And I turned for relief to the shining companion who held me, and obeying an impulse suddenly imparted, I felt myself floating higher and higher till the last limits of the atmosphere surrounding the Earth were passed, and fields of pure and cloudless ether extended before us.  Here we met myriads of creatures like ourselves, all hastening in various directions—­all lovely and radiant as a dream of the fairies.  Some of these beings were quite tiny and delicate—­ some of lofty stature and glorious appearance:  their forms were human, yet so refined, improved, and perfected, that they were unlike, while so like humanity.

“Askest thou nothing?” whispered the voice beside me.

“Tell me,” I answered, “what I must know.”

“These spirits that we behold,” went on the voice, “are the guardians of all the inhabitants of all the planets.  Their labours are those of love and penitence.  Their work is to draw other souls to God—­to attract them by warnings, by pleading, by praying.  They have all worn the garb of mortality themselves, and they teach mortals by their own experience.  For these radiant creatures are expiating sins of their own in thus striving to save others—­the oftener they succeed the nearer they approach to Heaven.  This is what is vaguely understood on your earth as purgatory; the sufferings of spirits who love and long for the presence of their Creator, and who yet are not pure enough to approach Him.  Only by serving and saving others can they obtain at last their own joy.  Every act of ingratitude and forgetfulness and wickedness committed by a mortal, detains one or another of these patient workers longer away from Heaven—­imagine then what a weary while many of them have to wait.”

I made no answer, and we floated on.  Higher and higher—­higher and higher—­till at last my guide, whom I knew to be that being whom Heliobas had called Azul, bade me pause.  We were floating close together in what seemed a sea of translucent light.  From this point I could learn something of the mighty workings of the Universe.  I gazed upon countless solar systems, that like wheels within wheels revolved with such rapidity that they seemed all one wheel.  I saw planets whirl around and around with breathless swiftness, like glittering balls flung through the air—­burning comets flared fiercely past like torches of alarm for God’s wars against Evil—­a marvellous procession of indescribable wonders sweeping on for ever in circles, grand, huge, and immeasurable.  And as I watched the superb pageant, I was not startled or confused—­I looked upon it as anyone might look on any quiet landscape scene in what we know of Nature.  I scarcely could perceive the Earth from whence I had come—­ so tiny a speck was it—­nothing but a mere pin’s point in the burning whirl of immensities.  I felt, however, perfectly conscious of a superior force in myself to all these enormous forces around me—­I knew without needing any explanation that I was formed of an indestructible essence, and that were all these stars and systems suddenly to end in one fell burst of brilliant horror, I should still exist—­I should know and remember and feel—­should be able to watch the birth of a new Universe, and take my part in its growth and design.