that this piece was the Martian Hymn of Praise to the Great Ruler of the
Universe; and that its performance was regarded as one of their most
solemn acts of public worship.

The grandeur and majesty of this music, its melodious themes and
thrilling harmonies, are utterly beyond my powers of description; the
air and sky seemed filled and pulsating with prayer and praise, then
resounding with grand crescendoes of triumphant shouts; each succeeding
movement of the music carrying it higher and ever higher in the scale,
until at last it seemed to soar and pierce the infinite, the final
cadences dying away in melodious strains of celestial beauty and
ineffable sweetness.

Finally the air-ships all circled round the sky, then took their
departure--darting off in all directions--the sound of their sweet music
becoming fainter and fainter in the distance until at last all was
solemn silence; then the great assembly slowly and quietly dispersed.

For some minutes none of us spoke, for each was in deep thought, so
impressive and exalting had been the effect of that wonderful and
majestic hymn. When at length Merna turned to us and asked if we were
pleased with what we had seen and heard, we found it very difficult to
give adequate expression to our feelings.

Then M'Allister said, "Mon, it was beautiful, most beautiful! and I
never felt so nigh to heaven as I have this night!"

I remarked to John that "I had never expected to hear any music that
would equal, much more excel, the incomparable 'Hallelujah Chorus' in
Handel's 'Messiah.' It had always seemed to me impossible that any music
could ever be composed which would even approach it in majesty and
power; but what we had heard that night certainly surpassed it."

On looking at my watch I found that the musical portion of this feast of
tone and colour had occupied nearly three hours; yet, as I remarked, it
had seemed to me only a few minutes!

"Yes," John replied, "to me it has been an experience like that of the
monk Felix in Longfellow's 'Golden Legend.' The monk went out into the
woods one day, where he saw a snow-white bird, and listened to its sweet
singing until the sound of the convent bell warned him that it was time
to return. When he reached the convent he was amazed to find the faces
of the monks were all strange to him; he knew no one, and no one knew
him, or had ever even heard of him. At last one very old monk, who had
been there over a hundred years, said