CHAPTER V. LIFE AND DEATH

_Invisible Helpers and Mediums._ There are two classes of people in the world. In one class the vital and dense bodies are so firmly cemented that the ethers cannot be extracted under any circumstances but remain with the dense body at all times and under all conditions from birth to death. Those people are insensible to any supersensuous sights or sounds. They are therefore usually exceedingly sceptic, and believe nothing exists but what _they_ can see. There is another class of people in whom the connection between the dense and the vital bodies is more or less loose, so that the ether of their vital bodies vibrates at a higher rate than in the first class mentioned. These people are therefore more or less sensitive to the spiritual world. This class of sensitives may again be divided. Some are weak characters, dominated by the will of others in a _negative_ manner, as mediums, who are the prey of disembodied spirits desirous of obtaining a physical body when they have lost their own by death. The other class of sensitives are strong _positive_ characters, who act only from within, according to their own will. They may develop into trained clairvoyants, and be their own masters instead of slaves of a disembodied spirit. In some sensitives of both classes it is possible to extract part of the ether which forms the vital body. When a disembodied spirit obtains a subject of that nature, it develops the sensitive as _a materializing medium_. The man who is capable of extracting his own vital body by an act of will, becomes a citizen of two worlds, independent and free. Such are usually known as _Invisible Helpers_. There are certain other abnormal conditions where the vital body and the dense body are separated totally or in part, for instance if we place our limb in an uncomfortable position so that circulation of the blood ceases. Then we may see the etheric limb hanging down below the visible limb as a stocking. When we restore circulation and the etheric limb seeks to enter into place, an intense prickly sensation is felt, due to the fact that the little streams of force, which radiate all through the ether, seek to permeate the molecules of the limb and stir them into renewed vibration. When a person is drowning, the vital body also separates from the dense vehicle and the intense prickly pain incident to resuscitation is also due to the cause mentioned. While we are awake and going about our work in the Physical World, the desire body and mind both permeate the dense and the vital bodies, and there is a constant war between the desire nature and the vital body. The vital body is continually engaged in building up the human organism, while the impulses of the desire body tend to tire and to break down tissue. Gradually, in the course of the day, the vital body loses ground before the onslaughts of the desire body, poisons of decay slowly accumulate and the flow of vital fluid becomes more and more sluggish, until at length it is incapable of moving the muscles. The body then feels heavy and drowsy. At last the vital body collapses, as it were, the little streams of force which permeate each atom seem to shrivel up, and the Ego is forced to abandon its body to the restorative powers of sleep. When a building has become dilapidated and is to be _restored_ and put in thorough repair, the tenants must move out to let the workmen have a free field. So also when the building of a spirit has become unfit for further use, it must withdraw therefrom. As the desire body caused the damage, it is a logical conclusion that that also must be removed. Every night when our body has become tired, the higher vehicles are withdrawn, only the dense and vital bodies are left upon the bed. Then the process of restoration commences and lasts for a longer or a shorter time according to circumstances. At times however, the grip of the desire body upon our denser vehicles is so strong that it refuses to let go. When it has become so interested in the proceedings of the day, it continues to ruminate over them after the collapse of the physical body, and is perhaps only half extracted from that vehicle. Then it may transmit sights and sounds of the desire world to the brain. But as the connections are necessarily askew under such conditions, the most confused dreams result. Furthermore, as the desire body compels motion, the body is very apt to toss about when the desire body is not fully extracted, hence the restless sleep which usually accompanies dreams of a confused nature. There are times of course when dreams are prophetic and come true, but such dreams result only _after_ complete extraction of the desire body, under circumstances where the spirit has seen some danger perhaps, which may befall, and then impresses the fact upon the brain _at the moment of awakening_. It also happens that the spirit goes upon a soul flight and omits to perform its part of the work of restoration, then the body will not be fit to re-enter in the morning, so it sleeps on. The spirit may thus roam afield for a number of days, or even weeks, before it again enters its physical body and assumes the normal routine of alternating waking and sleep. This condition is called _trance_, and the spirit may remember upon its return what it has seen and heard in the super-physical realm, or it may have forgotten, according to the stage of its development and the depth of the trance condition. When the trance is very light, the spirit is usually present in the room where its body lies all the time, and upon its return to the body it will be able to recount to relatives all they said and did while its body lay unconscious. Where the trance is deeper, the returning spirit will usually be unconscious of what happened around its body, but may recount experiences from the invisible world. A few years ago a little girl by the name of Florence Bennett in Kankakee, Illinois, fell into such a trance. She returned to the body every few days, but stayed within only a few hours each time, and the whole trance lasted three weeks, more or less. During the returns to her body she told relatives that in her absence she seemed to be in a place inhabited by all the people who died. But she stated that none of them spoke about dying and no one among them seemed to realize that they were dead. Among those she had seen was a locomotive engineer who had been accidentally killed. His body was mangled in the accident which caused death. The little girl perceived him there walking about minus arms, and with lesions upon his head, all of which is in line with facts usually seen by mystic investigators. Persons who have been hurt in accidents go about thus, until they learn that a mere wish to have their body made whole will supply a new arm or limb, for desire stuff is most quickly and readily molded by thought. _Death._ After a longer or shorter time there comes in each life a point where the experiences which a spirit can gain from its present environment have been exhausted, and life terminates in death. Death may be sudden and seemingly unexpected, as for instance by earthquake, upon the battle-field, or by accident, as we call it, but in reality, death is never accidental or unforeseen by Higher Powers. Not a sparrow falls to the ground without divine Will. There are along life’s path partings of the way, as it were; on one side the main line of life continues onward, the other path leads into what we might call a blind alley. If the man takes that path, it soon ends in death. We are here in life for the sake of gaining experience and each life has a certain harvest to reap. If we order our life in such a manner that we gain the knowledge it is intended we should acquire, we continue in life, and opportunities of different kinds constantly come our way. But if we neglect them, and the life goes into paths which are not congruous to our individual development it would be a waste of time to let us stay in such environment. Therefore the Great and Wise Beings, Who are behind the scene of evolution, terminate our life, that we may have a fresh start in a different sphere of influence. The law of conservation of energy is not confined to the Physical World, but operates in the spiritual realms also. There is nothing in life that has not its purpose. We do wrong to rail against circumstances, no matter how disagreeable, we should rather endeavor to learn the lessons which are contained therein, that we may live a long and useful life. Some one may object, and say: You are inconsistent in your teachings. You say there is really no death, that we go into a brighter existence, and that we have to learn other lessons there in a different sphere of usefulness! Why then aim to live a long life here? It is very true that we make these claims, and they are perfectly consistent with the other assertions just mentioned, but there are lessons to be learned _here_ which cannot be learned in the other worlds, and we have to bring up this physical body through the useless years of childhood, through hot and impulsive youth, to the ripeness of manhood or womanhood, before it becomes of true spiritual use. The longer we live after maturity has been attained, when we have commenced to look upon the serious side of life and started to truly learn lessons which make for soulgrowth, the more experience we shall gather and the richer our harvest will be. Then, in a later existence, we shall be so much more advanced, and capable of taking up tasks that would be impossible with less length of life and breadth of activity. Besides, it is hard to die for the man in the prime of life with a wife and growing family whom he loves; with ambitions of greatness unfulfilled; with hosts of friends about him, and with interests all centered upon the material plane of existence. It is sad for the woman whose heart is bound up in home and the little ones she has reared, to leave them, perhaps without anyone to care for them; to know that they have to fight their way alone through the early years when her tender care is needed, and perhaps to see those little ones abused, and she unable to lift a hand, though her heart may bleed as freely as it would in earth life. All these things are sad, and _they bind the spirit to earth_ for a much longer time than ordinarily, they hinder it from reaping the experiences it should reap upon the other side of death, and they make it desirable along with other reasons already mentioned to live a long life before passing onwards. The difference between those who pass out at a ripe old age, and one who leaves this earth in the prime of life, may be illustrated by the manner in which the seed clings to a fruit in an unripe state. A great deal of force is necessary to tear the stone from a green peach; it has such a tenacious hold upon the fruit that shreds of pulp adhere to it when forcibly removed, so also the spirit clings to the flesh in middle life and a certain part of its material interest remain and bind it to earth after death. On the other hand, when a life has been lived to the full, when the spirit has had time to realize its ambitions or to find out their futility, when the duties of life have been performed and satisfaction rests upon the brow of an aged man or woman; or when the life has been misspent and the pangs of conscience have worked upon the man and shown him his mistakes; when, in fact, the spirit has learned the lessons of life, as it must have to come to old age; then it may be likened to the seed of the ripe fruit which falls out clean, without a vestige of flesh clinging thereto, at the moment the encasing pulp is opened. Therefore we say, as before, that though there is a brighter existence in store for those who have lived well, it is nevertheless best to live a long life and to live it to the fullest extent possible. We also maintain, that no matter what may be the circumstances of a man’s death, it is not accidental; it has either been brought about by his own neglect to embrace opportunities of growth, or else life has been lived to the ultimate possible. There is one exception to that rule, and that is due to man’s exercise of his divine prerogative of interference. If we lived according to schedule, if we all assimilated the experiences designed for our growth by the Creative Powers, we should live to the ultimate length, but _we ourselves_ usually shorten our lives by not taking advantage of opportunities, and it also happens that _other men_ may shorten our lives and cut them off as suddenly as the so-called accident whereby the divine rulers terminate our life here. In other words, murder, or fatal accidents brought about _by human __ carelessness_, are in reality the only termination to life not planned by invisible leaders of humanity. No one is ever compelled to do murder or other evil, or there could not come to them a just retribution for their acts. The Christ said that evil must come but _woe unto him by whom it cometh_, and to harmonize that with the law of divine justice: “as a man soweth, so shall he also reap,” _there must at least be absolute free will in respect to evil acts_. There are also cases where a person lives such a full and good life of such vast benefit to humanity and to himself, that his days are lengthened beyond the ultimate, as they are shortened by neglect, but such cases are of course too few to allow of their being dwelt upon at length. Where death is not sudden as in the case of accidents, but occurs at home after an illness, quietly and peacefully, dying persons usually experience a falling upon them as of a pall of great darkness shortly before termination of life. Many pass out from the body under that condition, and do not see the light again until they have entered the super-physical realms. There are many other cases however, where the darkness lifts before the final release from the body. Then the dying person views both worlds at once, and is cognizant of the presence of both dead and living friends. Under such circumstances it very often happens that a mother sees some of her children who have gone before, and she will exclaim joyously: Oh, there is Johnny standing at the foot of my bed; my but hasn’t he grown! The living relatives may feel shocked and uneasy, thinking the mother suffering from hallucinations, while in reality she is more clear-sighted than they; she perceives those who have passed beyond the veil who have come to greet and help her to make herself at home in the new world she is entering. Each human being is an individual, separate and apart from all others, and as experiences in the life of each differ from those of all others in the interval from the cradle to the grave, so we may also reasonably infer that the experiences of each spirit vary from those of every other spirit when it passes through the gates of birth and death. We print what purports to be a _spirit message_ communicated by the late Professor James of Harvard at the Boston spirit temple, and in which he describes sensations which he felt when passing through the gate of death. We do not vouch for its authenticity as we have not investigated the matter personally. Professor James had promised to communicate after death with his friends in this life, and the whole world of psychic research was and still is on watch for a word from him. Several mediums have claimed that Professor James has communicated through them, but the most remarkable are those given through the Boston spirit temple as follows: “And this is death, only to fall asleep, only to awaken in the morning and to know that all is well. I am not dead, only arisen. ------------------------------------- “I only know that I experienced a great shock through my entire system, as if some mighty bond had been rent asunder. For a moment I was dazed and lost consciousness. When I awakened I found myself standing beside the old body which had served me faithfully and well. To say that I was surprised would only inadequately express the sensation that thrilled my very being, and I realized that some wonderful change had taken place. Suddenly I became conscious that my body was surrounded by many of my friends, and an uncontrollable desire took possession of me to speak and touch them that they might know that I still lived. Drawing a little nearer to that which was so like and yet unlike myself, I stretched forth my hand and touched them, but they heeded me not.” ------------------------------------- “Then it was that the full significance of the great change that had taken place flashed upon my newly awakened senses; then it was that I realized that an impenetrable barrier separated me from my loved ones on earth, and that this great change which had taken place was indeed death. A sense of weariness and longing for rest took possession of me. I seemed to be transported through space, and I lost consciousness, to awaken in a land so different and yet so similar to the one which I had lately left. It was not possible for me to describe my sensations when I again regained consciousness and realized that, though dead, I was still alive. “When I first became conscious of my new environment I was resting in a beautiful grove, and was realizing as never before what it was to be at peace with myself and all the world.” ------------------------------------- “I know that only with the greatest difficulty shall I be enabled to express to you my sensations when I fully realized that I had awakened to a new life. All was still, no sound broke the silence. Darkness had surrounded me. In fact, I seemed to be enveloped in a heavy mist, beyond which my gaze could not penetrate. Soon in the distance I discerned a faint glimmer of light, which slowly approached me, and then, to my wonder and joy, I beheld the face of her who had been my guiding star in the early days of my earth life.” One of the saddest sights witnessed by the seer at a death-bed is the tortures to which we often subject our dying friends on account of ignorance of how to care for them in that condition. We have a science of birth; obstetricians who have been trained for years in their profession and have developed a wonderful skill, assist the little stranger into this world. We have also trained nurses attendant upon mother and child, the ingenuity of brilliant minds is focused upon the problem of how to make maternity easier, neither pains nor money are spared in these beneficent efforts for one whom we have never seen, but when the friend of a lifetime, the man who has served his kind well and nobly in profession, state, or church, is to leave the scene of his labors for a new field of activity, when the woman—who has labored to no less good purpose in bringing up a family to take its part in the world’s work—has to leave that home and family, when one whom we have loved all our lives is about to bid us the final farewell, we stand by utterly at a loss how to help; perhaps we even do the very things most detrimental to the comfort and welfare of the departing one. Probably there is no form of torture more commonly inflicted upon the dying than that which is caused by administering stimulants. Such potions have the effect of drawing a departing spirit into its body with the force of a catapult, to remain and to suffer for sometime longer. Investigators of conditions beyond have heard many complaints of such treatment. When it is seen that death must inevitably ensue, let not selfish desire to keep a departing spirit a little longer prompt us to inflict such tortures upon it. The death chamber should be a place of the utmost quiet, a place of peace and of prayer, for at that time, and _for three and one-half days after the last breath_, the spirit is passing through a Gethsemane and needs all the assistance that can be given. The value of the life that has just been passed depends greatly upon conditions which then prevail about the body; yes even the conditions of its future life are influenced by our attitude during that time, so that if ever we were our brother’s keeper in life, we are a thousand times more so at death. Post-mortem examinations, embalming and cremation during the period mentioned, not only disturb the passing spirit mentally, but are productive of a certain amount of pain, for there is still a slight connection with the discarded vehicle. If sanitary laws require us to prevent decomposition while thus keeping the body for cremation, it may be packed in ice till the three and one-half days have passed. After that time the spirit will not suffer, no matter what happens to the body. _The Panorama of a Past Life._ No matter how long we may keep the spirit from passing out however, at last there will come a time when no stimulant can hold it and the last breath is drawn. Then the silver cord, of which the Bible speaks, and which holds the higher and the lower vehicles together, snaps in the heart and causes that organ to stop. That rupture releases the vital body, and that with the desire body and mind float above the visible body for from one to three and one-half days while the spirit is engaged in reviewing the past life, an exceedingly important part of its post-mortem experience. Upon that review depends its whole existence from death to a new birth. The question may arise in the student’s mind: How can we review our past life from the cradle to the grave when we do not even remember what we did a month ago, and to form a proper basis for our future life, this record ought to be very accurate, but even the best memory is faulty? When we understand the difference between the conscious and sub-conscious memory and the manner in which the latter operates, the difficulty vanishes. This difference and the manner in which the sub-conscious memory keeps an accurate record of our life experiences may be best understood by an illustration, as follows: When we go into a field and view the surrounding landscape, vibrations in the ether carry to us a picture of everything within the range of our vision. It is as sad as it is true however, that “we have eyes and see not,” as the Savior said. These vibrations impinge upon the retina of our eyes, even to the very smallest details, but they usually do not penetrate to our consciousness, and therefore are not remembered. Even the most powerful impressions fade in course of time so that we cannot call them back at will when they are stored in our conscious memory. When a photographer goes afield _with his camera_ the results which he obtains are different. The ether vibrations emanating from all things upon which his camera is focused, transmit to the sensitive plate an impression of the landscape true to the minutest detail, and, mark this well, this true and accurate picture is in no wise dependent upon whether the photographer is observant or not. It will remain upon the plate and may be reproduced under proper conditions. Such is the subconscious memory, and it is generated automatically by each of us during every moment of time, independently of our volition, in the following manner. From the first breath which we draw after birth to our last dying gasp, we inspire air which is charged with pictures of our surroundings, and the same ether which carries that picture to the retina of our eye, is inhaled into our lungs where it enters the blood. Thus it reaches the heart in due time. In the left ventricle of that organ, near the apex, there is one little atom which is particularly sensitized, and which remains in the body all through life. It differs in this respect from all other atoms which come and go, for it is the particular property of God, and of a certain spirit. This atom may be called the book of the Recording Angel, for as the blood passes through the heart, cycle after cycle, the pictures of our good and evil acts are inscribed thereon to the minutest detail. This record may be called the sub-conscious memory. It forms the basis of our future life when reproduced as a panorama just subsequent to death. By removal of the seed atom—which corresponds to the sensitized plate in a camera,—the reflecting ether of the vital body serves as a focus, and as the life unrolls slowly backwards from death to birth the pictures thereof are etched into the desire body which will be our vehicle during our sojourn in purgatory and the first heaven where evil is eradicated and good assimilated, so that in a future life the former may serve as _conscience_ to withhold the man from repeating mistakes of the past, and the latter will spur us to greater good. A phenomenon similar to the panorama of life usually takes place when a person is drowning. People who have been resuscitated speak of having seen their whole life _in a flash_. That is because under such conditions the vital body also leaves the dense body. Of course there is no rupture of the silver cord, or life could not be restored. Unconsciousness follows quickly in drowning, while in the usual post-mortem review the consciousness continues until the vital body collapses in the same manner that it does when we go to sleep. Then consciousness ceases for a while and the panorama is terminated. Therefore also the time occupied by the panorama varies with different persons, according to whether the vital body was strong and healthy, or had become thin and emaciated by protracted illness. The longer the time spent in review, and the more quiet and peaceful the surroundings, the deeper will be the etching which is made in the desire body. As already said, that has a most important and far reaching effect, for then the sufferings which the spirit will realize in purgatory on account of bad habits and misdeeds will be much more keen than if there is only a slight impression, and in a future life the still small voice of conscience will warn so much more insistently against mistakes which caused sufferings in the past. When conditions are such at the time of death that the spirit is disturbed by outside conditions, for instance the din and turmoil of a battle, the harrowing conditions of an accident or the hysterical wailings of relatives, the distraction prevents it from realizing an appropriate depth in the etching upon the desire body. Consequently its post-mortem existence becomes vague and insipid, the spirit does not harvest fruits of experience as it should have done had it passed out of the body in peace and under normal conditions. It would therefore lack incentive to good in a future life, and miss the warning against evil which a deep etching of the panorama of life would have given. Thus its growth would be retarded in a very marked degree, but the beneficent powers in charge of evolution take certain steps to compensate for our ignorant treatment of the dying and other untoward circumstances mentioned. What these steps are, we shall discuss when considering the life of children in heaven, for the present let it be sufficient to say that in God’s kingdom every evil is always transmuted to a greater good though the process may not be at once apparent. _Purgatory._ During life the collapse of the vital body at night terminates our view of the world about us, and causes us to lose ourselves in unconsciousness of sleep. When the vital body collapses just subsequent to death, and the panorama of life is terminated, we also lose consciousness for a time which varies according to the individual. A darkness seems to fall upon the spirit, then after a while it wakes up and begins dimly to perceive the light of the other world, but is only gradually accustomed to the altered conditions. It is an experience similar to that which we have when coming out of a darkened room into sunlight, which blinds us by its brilliancy, until the pupils of our eyes have contracted so that they admit a quantity of light bearable to our organism. If under such a condition we turn momentarily from the bright sunlight and look back into the darkened room, objects there will be much more plain to our vision than things outside which are illumined by the powerful rays of the sun. So it is also with the spirit, when it has first been released from the body it perceives sights, scenes and sounds of the material world, which it has just left, much more readily than it observes the sights of the world it is entering. Wordsworth in his Ode to Immortality noted a similar condition in the case of new-born children, who are all clairvoyant and much more awake to the spiritual world than to this present plane of existence. Some lose the spiritual sight very early, others retain it for a number of years and a few keep it all through life, but as the birth of a child is a death in the spiritual world and it retains the spiritual sight for a time, so also death here is a birth upon the spiritual plane, and the newly dead retain a consciousness of this world for some time subsequent to demise. When one awakes in the Desire World after having passed through aforementioned experiences, the general feeling seems to be one of relief from a heavy burden, a feeling perhaps akin to that of a diver encased in a heavy rubber suit, a weighty brass helmet upon his head, leaden soles under his feet and heavy weights of lead upon his breast and back, confined in his operations on the bottom of the ocean by a short length of air tube, and able only to move clumsily with difficulty. When after the day’s work such a man is hauled to the surface, and divests himself of his heavy garments and he moves about with the facility we enjoy here, he must surely experience a feeling of great relief. Something like that is felt by the spirit when it has been divested of the mortal coil, and is able to roam all over the globe instead of being confined to the narrow environment which bound it upon earth. There is also a feeling of relief for those who have been ill. Sickness, such as we know it, does not exist there. Neither is it necessary to seek food and shelter, for in that world there is neither heat nor cold. Nevertheless, there are many in the purgatorial regions who go to all bothers of housekeeping, eating and drinking just as we do here. George Du Maurier in his novel “Peter Ibbetson” gives a very good idea of this condition in the life lived between the hero and the Countess of Towers. This novel also illustrates splendidly what has been said of the sub-conscious memory, for Geo. Du Maurier has somewhere, somehow discovered an easy method which anyone may apply to do what he calls “dreaming true.” By taking a certain position in going to sleep, it is possible, after a little practice, to compel the appearance, in a dream, of any scene _in our past life_ which we desire to live over again. The