Part I

Introduction, by E. B. Gibbes

I This Petty, Puny Age

II The History Of Consciousness

III The Immediate Life After Death

THE METETHEREAL OR SPIRITUAL WORLD

LIGHT ON THE THIRD PLANE

TIME ON THE THIRD PLANE

THE FOURTH DIMENSION

LOVE AND MARRIAGE

THE TYRANT'S FATE

THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE WORLD BEYOND DEATH

THE FAMILY GROUP

THE DREAM-CHILD

HUMAN PERSONALITY AND SURVIVAL

THE DOUBLE IN ASSOCIATION WITH

THE LIVING PHYSICAL BODY

DISEASE AND THE DOUBLE

SUICIDES

IV Reincarnation.

V Affinities

VI The Two Aspects

VII Armistice Day

VIII November 11th, 1934

 

Part II

IX The Chart Of Existence

X Beyond Human Personality

THE MYSTERY OF MARS

VENUS

THE LOTUS FLOWER PARADISE

ARE THE PLANETS INHABITED?

XI Solar Man

LIFE ON THE FIXED STARS

THE BIRTH OF SOLAR MAN

LIGHT ON THE STARS

NON-HUMAN SPIRITS

LANGUAGE AND RELIGION

THE ALLEGED LIFE-FORCE

THE EXTINCT WORLDS

THE FIFTH PLANE

ULTIMATE REALITY

FINALITY

Part III

XII Prayer

COLLECTIVE PRAYER

PRAYER IN THE VALLEY OF DESOLATION

PRAISE AND THANKSGIVING

FATE AND PRAYER

STILLNESS

XIII Hell

HELL AND THE AFTER-LIFE

DO WE MAKE OUR OWN HELL?

THE WICKED MAN FLOURISHES

XIV The Right Way of Loving

KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM

GAUTAMA, KNOWN AS BUDDHA

CHRIST, BUDDHA AND THE SPIRITUAL WORLD

THE NAZARENE AND DISCIPLE OF CHRIST

Appendices

I Prevision And Memory

THE CONCEPTUAL WORLD

THE SUGGESTIBILITY OF MEDIUMS

II Nature Spirits

ANIMAL SURVIVAL

III Insanity

A SECOND METHOD OF TREATMENT

THE PREPARATION

THE VARIETY OF EARTH-BOUND SPIRITS

SENILE DECAY

MELANCHOLIA

HALLUCINATIONS

DELUSIONS

IV Justice

INTRODUCTION

by

E. B. GIBBES

"Unquestionably the truth or fallacy of the theory of the survival of the soul is by far the most tremendous question that can exercise the human mind. The more you think of it, the more all other questions seem to sink into utter insignificance, for only if survival be true, can the Universe be rationalized at all, because only in this way, and in this alone, can we confront the problem of evil. If survival be not true, then the only possible philosophy is blank pessimism, and the Ruler of the Universe cannot be acquitted of cruelty that would shock any normal man." Professor E. W. MacBride, F.R.S. (Psychic Science)

INTRODUCTION

The following essays were written automatically by Miss Geraldine Cummins in precisely the same manner as those contained in the book entitled The Road to Immortality. They purport to be communicated by the late F. W. H. Myers, one of the founders of the Society for Psychical Research and explain his conception of life after death in greater detail than was possible in the earlier volume.

In the above mentioned book is also presented a series of evidential cases which would seem to answer Professor MacBride's question (p. 10) and to offer cogent proof of the survival of human personality. It has not, therefore, seemed necessary to include in the present volume these and other evidential cases received through the mediumship of Miss Cummins. For such evidence readers are referred to the previous volume and also to various articles which have appeared in Light, the Journal of the Society for Psychical Research and other psychic papers during the last few years.

In his Foreword to The Road to Immortality, Sir Oliver Lodge describes Miss Cummins as "an amateur trance-writer... an amanuensis of reasonable education, characterized by a ready willingness for devoted service and of transparent honesty."

The present volume was sent to him and in a letter to me he says that he has "no reason to doubt the likeness to Myers' utterances except perhaps what is said about solar beings and about conditions of life in stars. At the conclusion of this portion the writer deals with difficult subjects and is not to be taken as an infallible guide. The whole is interesting... I think the chapter labeled 'Prayer' is very fine."

It is of interest here to quote an extract from a sitting which Miss Cummins gave to Sir Oliver Lodge. The communicator announces himself as F. W. H. Myers, and Sir Oliver Lodge has kindly consented to its publication in this volume.

[Extract from sitting with Sir Oliver Lodge, Dec. 10th, 1933]

F.W.H.M. I have come to the conclusion that there is no finished World of the Absolute, erase from your mind this conception of German and Indian thought. For God is imagination, is the illumination or blaze beyond reason. He maintains and preserves the past, and contains the conception or picture of the future. But he adds to Himself, that is an important point.

Now, the soul of man is a finite focus or center for imagination, more especially when functioning on the higher levels though still associated with the material body. This soul manifests dimly a creative power which is akin to, and of the Great Cosmic Imagination. God is many in One, One in Many. The souls and spirits of all things living aim ultimately at becoming one with their Creator. Thus the Imagination of God is altered and enriched by the adding up of the time process. It attains a perfection on a higher level ultimately. Schopenhauer, the advocate of the unconscious, seems to me to be in error. For God reflects, is purposive, and creates with an ecstasy beyond human comprehension....

I am very pleased by the simple and explicit manner in which you have developed the thesis of the ether in your book and in your discussions. I am aware that the scientists dislike this view of yours: but scientists are so often blinded by their own eyes.

The term "ether" is a bad one. I wish we could find a more suggestive word. I agree with you concerning its properties. I would like to find a Greek word which expresses the idea of the English equivalent "life-bearer." Let us find a word that conveys that meaning.

May I say that you are right in your conclusion that mind does not work directly on the brain. There is an etheric body which is the link between mind and the cells of the brain. I would like to explain certain points in that connection.

I am aware that of late years scientists speak of corpuscular particles. May I suggest that far more minute corpuscular particles than those already known travel along threads from the etheric body, or double, to certain regions of the body and to the brain. They whirl with a very great intensity. I might call them life units.

The threads I speak of are connected with the glands. Medical men have been impressed by the alteration in character caused by certain deficiencies in one particular gland. They will find perhaps in time&emdash;when they discover the etheric body&emdash;that this deficiency is partly caused by some weakening of the thread or wire which carries the life current from the etheric body to these glands. I know I am uttering heresies. But I want you to realize that this invisible body&emdash;called by me the double or unifying mechanism&emdash;is the only channel through which mind and life may communicate with the physical shape. Should a thread snap between the two, there is immediately a failure in control.

O.J.L. The ether seems to me to underlie every material process, but there is no means of getting at it.

F.W.H.M. Yes, the ether is the ancestor of matter. You will only be able to get at it through considerable research, through the making, in short, of a very delicate instrument which will record that mystery and make it intelligible to the sight of the scientist. I will discuss the possibilities of such work with Crookes; he may have some suggestions.

O.J.L. Pragmatically, it is said, the ether does not exist: everything goes on as if it were not there.

F.W.H.M. I see your point. Actually ether does make a difference. After all they know it to be a medium for messages. I think it may be necessary for instance to study the ether through its connection with the physical body. Experiments might be made with animals. Each animal has a unifying invisible body made out of modified ether. It should be possible to devise in time an instrument whereby this body can be perceived. I merely make this suggestion. I am no physicist, but I feel that light will be thrown on your main thesis if the ether is studied in connection with the human being and that unifying mechanism of which I have spoken.

O.J.L. You feel that I am right in sticking to the ether hypothesis? Everything would be in chaos if it did not exist.

F.W.H.M. Yes. You need have no fear that proof will be obtained of the non-existence of the ether. I prophesy that ten years from now the ether will have become a reality to thinking men. After you have joined me here, Lodge, they will find clues to its existence. They will come upon it partly by experiment with a very fine instrument, and also with the aid of chemistry. The ether, as I know it, is the very stuff and material of our existence here. It has a permanency which makes it more difficult and elusive for those who dwell in impermanent matter.

Is it possible for you to encourage the initiation of experiments in connection with the animal? Let the animal be studied not merely as a physical mechanism. Bring to bear on the subject the very finest photographic plates. But do not neglect the idea of an instrument through which the eye may perceive the double, the invisible body of the animal.

May I refer you to some remarks of mine on the etheric body which I made to this lady on the last occasion?..."

Readers of The Road to Immortality will remember the account given by Frederic Myers of the world of Illusion&emdash;the memory or dream-world, to which we pass at death, as well as his comments upon the Fourth plane or world of Eidos which succeeds it. In the present volume he amplifies our knowledge of these states and, passing on to the Fifth plane&emdash;that of the Flame-world or world of Helios&emdash;paints a remarkable picture of the existence that awaits us in the far distant future when we become stellar beings.

The following essays were written for the most part in 1933 and 1934 and it may interest our readers to know that F.W.H.M. was handicapped at first by the "automatist's" ignorance of certain technical terms. Miss Cummins has never been interested in the stars. He requested her, therefore, to read, in an encyclopaedia, some details concerning astronomy before he proceeded further. This was done. No study was made of the matter indicated&emdash;the details were merely read through. If comparison is made between Harmsworth's Encyclopedia and Part 2 of this volume, it will be seen that there is very little similarity. What the communicator required was merely the terminology without which he was unable to build up his description of solar man. It will be noted that on page 103 the alleged communicator says that he has "during his post-mortem existence sought for planetary knowledge"; also that he derives some of his information "from other travellers who have journeyed farther along the road."

Although some of the views herewith set forth are controversial and may not meet with unanimous approval Miss Cummins and I feel that this may enhance rather than detract from their general interest.

It is possible that the objection may be raised in connection with Part 2 that forecasts of life so far distant can have no particular interest to present day man. Nevertheless this part of the book has been included as the suggestion that there are other kinds of intelligent life existing upon the stars will doubtless appeal to that portion of the public to whom our mysterious universe is a fascinating enigma.

The short essay entitled "Finality," was written in answer to a question posed by a scholar who was keenly interested in this section of the book.

"Our leading astronomers," he said, "declare that the universe must end in so many millions of years by the second law of Thermodynamics&emdash;the sun and stars exhausting themselves in radiation. Is this likely?" This question I put to the alleged communicator soon after he had started to write Part 2. He replied that he would embody his answer in the essays he was then writing. When they were nearly completed he suddenly referred to the question asking for it to be re-read to him. We had, at that time, forgotten it. He then led up to the answer which ends this portion of the book.

It should be realized that, for a discarnate being, the difficulties of writing on such a theme as the Flame-worlds must be enormous. There are no words adequate in the languages of earth that could possibly be found to describe the conditions which, it is claimed, prevail in that state of being.

This book is complete in itself, but there are some slight allusions to, and repetitions of, The Road to Immortality. This is unavoidable and necessary where new readers are concerned. Owing to the fact that some readers of the above mentioned book expressed the wish that the language used by Frederic Myers had been somewhat simpler, a few revisions have been made in the text in order to clarify the meaning.

If the reader accepts the hypothesis of "spirit communication" it should be regarded to a certain extent as a collaboration between the living and the so-called dead. But the style of the writer when he lived on earth cannot be expected to be identical with that of communications purporting to come from him when he has been dead some thirty-five years. The difficulties of transmission are considerable and his experiences during that supernal period are quite likely to have altered his outlook and possibly to some degree his character.

It would also seem that the automatist reconstructs the ideas and impressions received by her brain from the communicator, and so the essays in this volume must necessarily be limited by the vocabulary and culture of the medium who has been described by the alleged F.W.H.M. as an "interpreter."

As in the case of the former volume, the title of this present book was suggested by the alleged communicator. In view of his well known work Human Personality and its Survival of Bodily Death, this selection would seem to be characteristic of F. W. H. Myers.

For further details as to the writing of the following essays, readers are referred to the introduction and summary in The Road to Immortality.

April, 1935 E. B. GIBBES.

PART I

THE IMMEDIATE LIFE AFTER DEATH

Chapter I

THIS PETTY, PUNY AGE

THE Greek ideal of soundness in mind and body, the Greek reverence for beauty and strength must come into their own again. I perceive the earth now as from a mountain top. I perceive the swarming multitudes, who give no real or considered reflection to the future of the coming generation. You may argue that conditions are perfect if compared with those prevalent in the Victorian era. It is true that there are degrees of darkness in every night. The world draws a little nearer to the dawn and there is a dim pallor in the east. Perhaps it is the portent of a splendid sunrise&emdash;of rose colored clouds, of the coming of a great yellow orb, which, with its life-giving rays, will yet dazzle and delight mankind; or perhaps that ghostly pallor suggests the squalid depression of a fog-bound and imprisoned sun; or more awfully, suggests an angry day of tempest, with the sweep of grey clouds across the sky from west to east, with the sound of the wind raging, tearing and breaking over the hills and hollows, over the wide, tremendous spaces of earth.

No man is permitted to know in full the secret of the coming time. But we souls who dwell in the After-death, we, who live in kindled bodies, with quickened intensity and with fiery delight in the first heaven-world, Eidos, dimly see the trend of man's thought and therefore, presage his endeavor in the coming times.

It is in the thought and fancies of the children that the future is being imaged. Created before it be flung into the potter's furnace to be hardened into the mould of the age, it takes on the indestructible sculpture of history and again, an era called "the present" passes, to be recorded in God's time, in Eternity.

I ask the men and women of your generation who, even now, in their children, are carving and shaping the morrow, to bear in mind the old dream of the Greeks, to remember their ideal&emdash;soundness of mind and of body, to recollect their devotion to beauty and to strength.

It is in no cavilling, destructive spirit that I beg of the men and women of the day to consider the human being apart from machines, to consider life apart from gold. Within the restless jangle of those monstrous cogs and wheels which now turn ceaselessly and bear your so-called civilization upon them, there is little leisure or quiet for the calmness or philosophic meditation out of which knowledge is born; and what sombre destiny may not await the children of the morrow if they, too, are caught in the grip of that creature without a soul, which is known in your age of steel as "the machine"&emdash;that last and final embodiment of the god of Materialism.

Christ, the Son of the Father, descended to earth and took on flesh and, in so doing, He drew down to men, the beauty that is not of this world. In the twentieth century the Machine, the son of the Golden Calf, the son of all materialism, descended to earth and took on body and substance. In these latter days, his creed is practiced in every comer of the globe. Men worship passionately, feverishly at his shrine.

Into many and various sections these ant-like human beings are divided, and these sections are called "nations" and each nation is baptised with another name for the machine which is briefly&emdash;Insulated State.

In a highly civilized country the state to-day runs with the automatic smoothness of any engine that drives the looms in Lancashire: that gives power to the mills&emdash;to the vast industrial enterprises which supply the needs of the swarming lives of earth. The state must necessarily control this multitude with something of the soullessness of the machine, else its population may lessen in numbers, may become the victim of fever and want.

But, because the state has now the character of a very delicate mechanism, there is grave danger of the mechanism running away with the man. The nation may plunge down the hill into war, or it may, in a slower manner, produce and propagate misery by an increase of its millions of human beings, and above all, by its increase of the ineffectives, the weaklings, the degenerates and the insane. Always, the blind purpose of this god of Matter&emdash;the State Machine&emdash;seems to be quantity and not quality, always its aim is the automatic multiplication of numbers and thereby the multiplication of distress.

With the exception of the thoughtful and sincere minority, men are not capable, as yet, of understanding or grasping the implications contained in the words of Christ. But they may dimly comprehend the Greek dream and they will be acting wisely and well if they turn back the pages of history, if they study the old Greek world and, eliminating the primitive elements of that hellenic adventure, take to heart for their children's sakes the lesson of soundness in mind and body, of reverence for beauty and for strength.

These precepts represent at least human values. They suggest to the soul a conception of idealized form: they declare a reverence for the loveliness of life which is so sadly absent from the feverish thoughts of the men in power who control or are controlled by the cogs and the wheels of State. Further, this Greek vision dimly reflects existence in that world beyond death which I have called "Eidos." It conveys, shadowily, the spirit of that splendid world, where the subtle body, in glowing perfection, expresses form in its greatest and in its highest intensity, where the mere act of living may be accompanied by an exultation that transcends the lofty ecstasy of the greatest earthly artist.

If men and women will turn their eyes away from the machine, if they will instil into their children the idea that this State Machine and all those other lesser machines in its control, are as dangerous as are wild animals to primitive man, then will there be hope for the future of the race, then will there be a shaping and a moulding of an image of peace for the morrow. If, too, they will remember that judgment is impaired when machine grapples with machine, when economic war impoverishes, and wars of aggression devastate the land; that neither beauty nor health can survive and flourish when nation destroys nation and machine destroys machine, then the spirit of revolt against this monstrous automatism will awaken in their hearts. More and more it directs and rules men's destinies, dethroning the soul, the kindly understanding of the intelligent, average man.

Once contempt and the spirit of irreverence are roused the god is in danger, the people no longer invoke him, his oracles are no longer heeded. Dodona's oak,* in time, is hewn down and cast into the fire.

That god, the State, or Super-machine, will thus have to be removed from the dreams and from the hearts of men. And, in its place, there must be set up the Greek view, which, though hedonistic, has

* "Dodona, in Epirus, the seat of the most ancient and venerable of all Hellenic sanctuaries... its temple was dedicated to Zeus and connected with it was an oracle which would seem to date from early times; for the method of gathering responses was by listening to the rustling of an old oak tree; perhaps a remnant of very ancient tree-worship."&emdash;Encyclopaedia Britannica.&emdash;E.B.G. a sanity that is wholesome and contains in it a respect for the temple of the body, which will eventually lead man to remember that he is essentially a spirit. And so he will, from that issue, be led at last to an understanding of the Words of Immortality and he will then grasp the significance of the Sermon on the Mount.

Man, each separately and privately by his own fireside perhaps, will have to come to the knowledge that the world to-day should envisage the ideal of quality not quantity; the development and creation of a civilization which represents the finest flower of the reigning generation, which does not, any longer, permit ugliness to be bred; suffering, broken bodies to be born; enfeebled and unsound human beings to enter into a world which can be, if man masters his present god, as lovely a paradise as any dreamed of by seer, poet or inspired and illumined philosopher.

I do not advocate the destruction of the machine. I merely ask that its true character should be recognized. A mechanism without a soul should be the servant, not the master of the thinking human being. Man must learn to control and check the mechanical powers that now so gravely influence his life and mentality, and for the sake of his spiritual evolution he will be well advised if he seeks, in the adventures of the mind and in the healthy exercise of the body and the senses, the pleasures and instruction which he now derives from the army of machines with which an alleged civilization has so abundantly provided him.

Chapter II

THE HISTORY OF CONSCIOUSNESS

THE history of Consciousness may be divided into six stages&emdash;that is, if we choose to use measurement as a term which will suggest its character.

(1) Limitation of consciousness through existence in a material world.

(2) Expansion of consciousness through existence in a metethereal world (i.e. the immediate state of life for the soul after death).

(3) Increased expansion. Consciousness as it exists on the Fourth plane, the world of Eidos: the state of being when the soul knows the perfection of form, its sublimation as it were.

(4) Cosmic limitation of consciousness. The soul is once more confined within a body that exists in the visible universe&emdash;that is to say, the traveller in eternity detaches himself from intimate communion with his Group, assumes a body of flame and experiences stellar incarnation.

(5) Cosmic expansion of consciousness. The traveller has completed his stellar experiences. He returns to the group-soul and then, when in its communion, obtains and holds within his consciousness, awareness of the whole visible universe. He can still withdraw and be the traveller, one discarnate being; and he can also be the one cosmic being: in other words, realize all the experiences of his group-soul and through it envisage the universe.

While realizing that the word "psyche" is feminine in Greek, for the purpose of clarity when referring to it the impersonal pronoun is used throughout. It will be noted that F.W.H.M. remarks that the soul is neither masculine nor feminine."&emdash;E.B.G.

(6) Infinite expansion of consciousness. The traveller in eternity becomes one with his Creator. He holds the universes within his consciousness. He is God and yet he is one of the Many in One.

Chapter III

THE IMMEDIATE LIFE AFTER DEATH

WE are such stuff as dreams are made on." In truth, we are the stuff of imagination. It is necessary, however, to discard the limited meaning of that word the meaning given to it in the dictionary. "The faculty of the mind for creating idealized pictures of things communicated by the senses," is indeed a paltry definition of the creative power which, in the highly evolved human being, can make a glory, not merely of earth life, but can envisage eternity in a phrase.

The imagination of man, during his existence on the physical plane, is fed by the senses, stimulated by his group-soul; the larger self of which he is a branch or shoot. It is also illumined, on occasions, by his spirit&emdash;a term I have previously defined as "The Light from Above." See The Road to Immortality. All similar allusions refer to the same book.&emdash;E.B.G.

It must be remembered that we are not merely short stories on the pages of earth, we are a serial, and each chapter closes with death. Yet the new chapter develops from those which preceded it, and we pick up the threads, continuing a narrative that has always design and purpose though the purpose may be hidden because human beings, as a rule, are only permitted to study the one life, the one period of their history at a time.

These earlier chapters may lend color and warmth to that period, or darken it with sinister and livid hues, cause strange happenings involving man in untoward and, at times, disastrous circumstances. His physical organism, apart from hereditary influences, is the creation of memory but a memory of a past which now lies buried, yet wholly intact, in his larger self.

However, imagination, the ruler and law-giver of our being, has, in its several parts, a freedom bestowed on it by God, and so, because of its limited character when enshrined in man, it creates evil as well as good and destroying the beautiful, seeks ugliness, creating misfortune and sorrow for others.

God, the Creative, Cosmic Power, permits the cruelties invented by the human imagination because only through such excesses may the soul of man evolve and grow, opening into the greater awareness through bitter experience of evil on the earthly level.

In the life after death he enters an intermediate stage, and, in that time, his soul is a spectator and perceives, at intervals, the episodes in the past existence. He dreams; sometimes the dream is a nightmare, sometimes it contains much that is beautiful and fine. The memories of evil must be considerable if these Hades-visions become acutely distressing in character. For, actually, imagination in its entirety dwells in a drowsy state during that period of perceptive existence.

I have already described the casting off of the husk and the development of the body and of the soul which takes place at this particular point on the journey. A man enters into the continuous life beyond death when apparelled in a new form. He passes from Hades into that state of consciousness in which he becomes aware of the world of Illusion. It might more aptly be termed "the world of Finite Imagination" for it is a world still influenced largely by the terrene level of consciousness.

The communicator (F.W.H.M.), refers to the immediate world after death in the following terms: The world of illusion: the world of finite imagination: the third plane: the lotus flower paradise: the illusory-world: the state of subconscious memory: the third level of consciousness; the sphere of terrene imagination: the effortless land: the world of finite reality.&emdash;E.B.G.

Out of the memories of earth the soul creates his environment, builds, through his imagination, the special dream, the primal object of his appetites or desires during this state of Illusion.

Now, it will be seen that imagination plays an important part in his conceptions of paradise. If it has become perverted through his deeds and thoughts when he was a man, it may create sinister surroundings for him, or perhaps, kindle the old fires of hate till they blaze again and continue to flame until their folly becomes apparent and thus, in time, he wearies of the sameness, of the monotony, of this particular kind of experience. Love, on the other hand, will draw about the soul the conditions necessary for its fulfillment. And in this world beyond death, very beautiful surroundings may be built up by the imaginations of those who truly love. These latter are not, however, as numerous as is commonly believed. If there be any soil or stain, any weakness in their love, the picture which they have created as their background will in some way be faulty, and, though it furnish temporary satisfaction, be far from the ideal of the seeker of Heaven.

The Metethereal or Spiritual World

"There never has been and never will be a man who has certain knowledge of the gods. For even if he should utter the whole truth yet he himself does not know it. But all may have their fancy." I should like to remodel these chastening remarks of Xenophon with the proviso that my words do not apply to those spirits who have passed out Yonder and have become one with the Creative Imagination.

There never has been and never will be an incarnate or discarnate being who has complete and certain knowledge of the realm of "Divine Things." For, even if he were capable of expressing the whole truth, yet he may not utter it for there is no language created by finite minds which can convey a clear and whole conception of God and universal life.

A discarnate or incarnate being can, in fragmentary fashion, reveal some aspect of the Whole Truth, but each interpretation of the Mystery of God and Creation is colored by the natural and instinctive prejudices of his mind. So what was one vision becomes many visions all differing from each other in some particular. The discarnate being who tries to convey his own thoughts and his conclusions concerning the spiritual world through the physical mechanism of another human being, is hampered to a very considerable extent. The possibility of such communication is not, as yet, universally admitted and he has also to make allowances for physical fatigue, the mentality, and the limited amount of time which the medium can place at his disposal.

I have described the spiritual world as consisting of seven planes, of seven stages in the journey of the soul. I should, perhaps, have called these planes "seven levels of consciousness," but the word "plane" is of a popular character so I deliberately chose it in order to convey my conception of eternity.

There can be said to be no locality in eternity. Yet, consciousness would appear to the journeying soul, to exist in a region or place. Certainly, this conception governs the lower or less developed states.

The wind of circumstance would seem, to such a being, primarily to influence the conditions under which he exists. He feels, intuitively, that he is the plaything of mighty forces and so he clings to his sense of locality, scarcely realizing that his surroundings are illusory and largely the creation of his soul and subliminal self, the expression of his own level of consciousness, of his aspirations and desires.

If, however, you would wish to study more closely the actual principle or law which governs the metethereal world it would be well for you to eliminate from your mind all preconceived ideas concerning localities or places. Contemplate instead the idea of motion, of varying speeds, then you will the more readily understand the mystery of space.

When I was on earth uneducated men and women frequently contended that it was impossible that human beings survived death because space could not contain the innumerable army of the dead. This very crude argument was never put forward by any intelligent men possessed of astronomical knowledge however slight and, therefore, dimly aware of the vastness of space. But apart from the human astronomical view of the universe, the whole conception of eternity is at fault when it is based merely on our perception of material surroundings. It should be founded, as I have said, on the idea of motion. A discarnate being is invisible to the human eye because the etheric body or vehicle of expression is vibrating at a more rapid rate than the physical body. When the soul passes to higher levels of consciousness, its form, or outward expression of itself, becomes more and more ethereal. That is to say, it is vibrating with greater rapidity and with a far greater intensity.

Numberless discarnate beings vibrate about you and within you, yet they are not of you, and in no sense make what one might describe as "contact" with either your mind or your physical body. When we seek to communicate with men we pass on to a different level of consciousness and can only do so by slowing down our processes of thought. It is not, to me, in any way distressing to do so for if I may compare the experience with earthly ideas, I would describe it as a passing from active life into a still, sleepy world which resembles, in its anaesthetising qualities, the high noon of an English summer's day when the sun shines and the air is heavy with unshed rain.

So human beings need not fear that they will enter some congested district of tenements, some "greater London" when they shuffle off their mortal bodies, when the cord of life is severed. They will, if their consciousness is of a normal character, enter into a wider freedom and find their ideas of space altered and enlarged. They will, in time, recognize that motion or rate of vibration, and that level of consciousness are the principles which govern their perceptions of existence both in part and as a whole.

Death means the passing merely from one speed to another, the adjusting of the soul to a more intense vibration, to a livelier, quicker state of manifestation.

When I spoke of souls lingering in super-terrestrial regions, I did not intend to convey an idea of locality. I wished to express a lesser rapidity of vibration by the term "super-terrestrial ", lesser when taken in conjunction with the higher levels of consciousness.

The Japanese proverb "See first the person and then preach the law," contains a profound truth. It is necessary carefully to analyze the construction of the individual when discussing the mystery of eternal life.

I have suggested that there are seven levels of consciousness. I have named them as follows:

(1) The Plane of Earth.

(2) The Intermediate Plane (Hades).

(3) The Plane of Illusion (The Immediate World after Death).

(4) The Plane of color (The World of Eidos).

(5) The Plane of Flame (The World of Helios).

(6) The Plane of Light.

(7) Out Yonder, Timelessness.

For the most part, we dwell in each state or world during the time we are attached to the appearances that constitute that world, though, I would emphasize the fact that, on the higher planes we escape from form and appearance. We can live in an outline. We can express ourselves in color or light, color and light which may not be perceived by the feeble senses of man. However, I would urge that no fixed rule should be applied to our sojourn in each world or state.

Man is a dual being. He recognizes the subjective and the objective aspects of his nature. Certain rare human beings may pass into what is called the subjective state and, enter into other worlds through the power of the Spirit.

St. Paul, for instance, has recorded his visit to the Third Heaven, but he would not tell of his experiences on that lofty level to any man. Others, too, while living in their physical bodies have visited what the Greeks called "The Kingdom of the Dead," and have passed on to higher states dwelling for a brief while in the world of Eidos, or have entered into the conditions of the solar world which I have symbolised by the term "Flame."

No human being, however, may for long thus be separated from the physical body. For he must fulfill his earth life, he must gain the measure of experience allotted to him on the plane of Matter.

Light on the Third Plane

The light that illumines the world of the departed souls on the Third plane, or world of Illusion, is not the light of the sun. It is true that certain spirits when communicating with human beings state that their world travels round the sun and receives its rays. But they are mistaken in this belief. For this etheric life of ours is nourished by cosmic rays that splendidly light up the kingdom we have created&emdash;the Lotus Flower Paradise that has sprung out of our imaginative force, our spiritual power.

These cosmic rays change in character according to the beat of our time. But they change for us because mind determines this change. Here, mind gives evidence that it is the mainspring of our daily life far more clearly than when it functions on earth. The very human illusions which certain men and women bear with them from the world lead them, for a while, actually to perceive the cosmic rays as they perceived the sun on earth. Habits of mind are so difficult to shake off that, in this period, they perceive, because they expect to perceive, a sun, moon, stars and other familiar surroundings. They are able also to persuade themselves that they continue to eat and drink although this is purely an act of the imagination and differs, therefore, in every sense from the taking of food for the sustenance of our physical bodies. Consequently because this habit of mind continues it compels them to follow an objective existence on what seems a fairer, larger earth than the one from which they rose. But if we reduce their condition to precise terrestrial terms we would say that they existed in the ether and were sensible of, and nourished by, the cosmic rays.

These emanations from the universe, these streams of light, have a double function. They make objects and surroundings perceptible to the newly dead and, at the same time, they sustain and promote&emdash;in some manner I do not understand&emdash;the life of this pervading ether, and thereby, the life of the etheric bodies of all creatures endowed with a psyche who have passed from earth.

Our etheric bodies depend for their nourishment on these cosmic rays and there are times set apart for the recharging of the etheric being with life. Such periods have some analogy to sleep and the mind puts up its shutters, withdraws from contact with other minds when the discarnate being on the Third plane desires to replenish his nature so that he may function in greater awareness and with a refreshed soul.

While in this passive, withdrawn state the soul reaches up to its spirit and its mind renews itself, receiving a necessary and essential stimulus.

In the immediate life beyond death the soul therefore, depends for its essential needs on the inner and outer light. Equally man depends for his needs on the sun's rays and on the primal light of his spirit which inspires and sustains him during his earthly journey.

In the lower zones of the Illusory-world the pretence of eating and drinking may be maintained as a part of the structure of each dream. But in this case the desired dinner appears through the man's act of desire. The epicure will experience the old pleasures if such be his fancy. The ascetic will experience the delight of deprivation when, in accordance with practice, he lives on bread and water. But when the epicure wearies of the monotony of the rare foods so easily obtained, he desires novelty; his imagination is awakened and he becomes conscious of the fact that his etheric body assimilates light automatically if nourishment is required.

These remarks of mine concerning food and light apply to the conditions that exist in the immediate state of life beyond death&emdash;conditions which may prevail for the traveller in eternity over a long period of time as measured in earthly terms.

It is therefore, a level of consciousness which, for the average human being, must always hold a very deep interest and be a matter of greater concern than any loftier state or world. For this reason it is necessary for me to emphasize once again the important part our subconscious memory of our past terrestrial life and our creative faculty play in the building up of a new life, a fresh story which, however, for a time, naturally bears a resemblance to the past out of which it has sprung.

For instance, we were accustomed to wear clothes that belonged to our particular period. The images of these are deeply marked in our subconscious memory. So our first instinct is to appear to those we love as we were on earth. Our minds, though unconscious of the imaginative act, fashion out of this amazingly plastic ether every thread, every inch of the garments which we habitually wore during our earth life. Naturally, after a while, we come to realize the change in ourselves and, aware at last of the creative powers of imagination, devise strange and lovely coverings for our etheric bodies. But as these fancies are largely drawn from it they are limited by the subconscious memory in character and kind.

Owing to the nature of human personality, we naturally seek out those few to whom we were drawn in that past period, whom death had severed from us, but in no way obliterated from our minds. In the creation of our surroundings therefore, of our clothes, of our dwellings and our occupations, we depend to a certain degree on these comrades of ours and we work together in small communities, building up our little worlds, expressing our many unsatisfied human desires in a manner that is at last adequate and sufficient for our needs.

I describe in this instance, of course, the fate of the average human being when he has passed through the gates of death.

Time on the Third Plane

Each community within the group-soul lives in its own space and time. When the traveller wearies of his little world and desires to progress, he develops a greater awareness and becomes capable of visiting those communities which belong to his Group and are therefore connected with him through the one spirit. He may find himself again in the eighteenth, seventeenth or even sixteenth century. Much depends on how long his comrades linger in this Illusory-world or state of subconscious memory.

No arbitrary limit may be assigned to the periods to which these souls belong. Frequently however, they only go back two or three hundred years and then the traveller can find no picture of social life anterior to the sixteenth century. But he soon perceives that his Group is not confined to one nation. He may visit a settlement of Chinese, Indians, Greeks, Italians often divers races are gathered within the radiance of the one spirit.

It is true, however, that, on occasions, the pilgrim meets with only one race when he makes these strange journeys into the past. Perhaps he finds the life of the Victorian era as it existed in London in the eighties, or the social conditions that prevailed in Devonshire during the Napoleonic wars, or the peasant life of the Highland crofters during the seventeenth century. But all have one characteristic in common, all are sublimated: that is to say, suffering, toil and sorrow are absent from each fantasy. Men, women and children bask in the satisfaction of earthly illusions which, through the imaginative processes, are satisfactorily fulfilled. The absence of struggle and effort from such lives gives to them a dream-like quality. In many cases such a condition is suggestive, in its aspect, of the peaceful character of a still, summer day. This may be said to be particularly the case when the dream is fading. Eventually the collective desire for progression shatters this community-life. The units that sustain it seek either the way back to the earth or choose the more difficult path that leads to Eidos, the Fourth level of consciousness.

The Fourth Dimension

I perceive that, through analysis of time, your earthly scientists are beginning to find proof of the immortality of the soul. Therefore, I would like to explain to my readers what is my view of the so-called Fourth Dimension. The closest analogy to this condition of existence as at present viewed by thinkers, is to be found in the higher zones of the world of Illusion.

To each human being his shadow, to each earthly event and scene a shadow or recorded image. Before the traveller in eternity rises to the Fourth level of consciousness, he surveys this memoried life of earth. Vast are the panoramas that extend before his vision. His sensitive perceptions may now register all the loveliness of the Renaissance period in Italy, all the cruelties and brutalities of the wars that ravaged Europe during mediaeval times. He enters the Greek world and may seek&emdash;if he is of a philosophic turn of mind&emdash;Socrates, Plato, Plotinus, all imaged within this memory, and still instructing the earnest young men of their period. But he is immediately aware of the different order of these perceived objects. They are automatic, without life in the sense that no souls dominate these scenes that at first pass one by one before the vision of the observer. None the less, when observing the images graven in the Great Memory, he becomes rapt, absorbed, caught in the excitement of the spectacle, in the strangeness and amazing character of this extensive drama. His own nature casts off its limitations; mind and feeling become fertilised, increasing in intensity and in power. The traveller journeying back to the Stone Age and even farther still, to the Ice Age, may suddenly wheel forward noting the germ of things and events that are yet to be. For already within the Imagination of God lies enshrined the conception of the whole future of the planet Earth down to the most infinitesimal detail. In this manner the traveller is permitted a glimpse of the scenes contained in this vast book of life before he proceeds further along his road in eternity.

As Christ was taken to a high place and surveyed from it all the kingdoms of the earth, so the pilgrim has been led to that pinnacle within the group-soul from which he may perceive the history of the earth extending apparently illimitably. Yet, as he increases in perception, his power to see the whole of a period in time as one act of thought increases also, and a century of eventful happenings may be grasped thus, in, as it were, one single and all embracing glance.

Truly the traveller has emerged from the dark womb of earth and knows it now in detail and as a whole. Out of such experience he rises a resurrected being and passes on to Eidos, the world of perfected form, wherein he experiences the great change which resolves the elements in his own nature, creating out of his limitations a mightier, grander being.

These experiences of which I have written are known only to those who do not have to return to the world of Illusion or the Third level of consciousness, because they have cut themselves free once and for all from the sluggish life of earth. Many travellers visit Eidos who, because they are merely birds of passage, do not, save perhaps in small measure, participate in the experience that I have just described.

Love and Marriage

On leaving the Third level of consciousness we assume a subtle body which, in beauty and in shape, no longer resembles the physical body. When, indeed, the intelligence proceeds on its journey to Eidos it makes a definite break with the material world; and few who have passed that way return to speak to men.

But, in the world after death which I have called the sphere of Terrene Imagination," men are the possessors of bodies which reproduce in shape and in general appearance the discarded physical form, though they are clothed in an ethereal substance which vibrates with a greater intensity.

In this sphere there is an absence of that strenuous struggle which leads to creative imagining&emdash;creative effort. Women do not bear children though the illusion of sexual passion may be experienced as long as it is the soul's desire. The woman possesses an etheric body so framed that it can serve her as the material shape served her various purposes, wishes and appetites on earth.

In uttering that famous saying, "But they which shall be accounted worthy to obtain that world and the resurrection from the dead, neither marry, nor are given in marriage," Christ spoke of the circumstances that prevail on the higher planes of consciousness. While existing in the world of Terrene Imagination man remains caught in his earthly memories. He is not, therefore, resurrected and still abides within the fantasy of the earth-dream, retaining, if it be his desire, that part of it which relates to marriage.

The problem of marriage, of two husbands or of two wives, is usually solved after death by the pull of the stronger, finer affection. Each soul is either drawn to the one who is most akin and sympathetic to it, or is absorbed by whatever special passion or desire fills its nature.

A pure but passionate love experienced by a certain number of normal men and women on earth is creative in character. It enlarges and inspires the imagination so death does not put out this fire for ever. On the contrary, in the world of Illusion and in the world of Eidos such men and women know pure yet passionate love again. Thus they create with their whole being and because of their greater sensitiveness such self-creative experiences are often heightened and intensified, and increase the vigour of the soul.

There exists in the higher regions of the sphere of Terrene Imagination and in Eidos a harmony and freedom that may not be the lot of true lovers when their minds are dulled and they are weighed down and oppressed by a heavy material body. On the Fourth plane such love changes in character, the conditions of life and consciousness being very different from those that prevail on earth.

A great scientist may at once seek those surroundings in which he will have full liberty to pursue further scientific studies, though these will naturally now be of a rather different character. In life, for him, the thing and not the person roused and stirred his imagination. So he chooses to travel alone and thereby satisfies the fundamental passion or desire of his nature. Equally men and women who care more for some particular work, pleasure, or pursuit, than for any human soul, or circle of souls, will continue to be engrossed in it until the point of satiation is reached. Nor do they require intimate companionships of the usual kind although, when conditions are satisfactory, they can meet and hold intercourse with dwellers on the same plane who are kindled with like enthusiasms. Or they may be drawn together because mutual interest has been aroused, or because each is necessary to the other in a wider and more intellectual sense.

The Tyrant's Fate

Infinite is the variety of imagination; infinite, therefore, is the variety of experience in the world beyond death. Indeed, there is no one Cimmerian entrance to the world of souls. We wander down a long gallery as it were, containing the scenes of our past. Each individual perceives portraits and pictures of memoried fancy that are not hung in the other galleries. Each has to react towards these, his own creations, according to the nature of his being. When, finally, he enters the etheric world, he puts from him, in great part, his experience within the echoing hall that lies immediately beyond death.

At first, with the assistance of others, he draws instinctively, from the scenes of earth, building about him, in company with those who were his intimates, the same scenery, the same earth stage. It is, of course, often idealized or darkened by fancy. And herein may be found the key to a vegetative content, to happiness and delight or to strange, sinister and sometimes terrifying dramas.

The tyrant, for instance, who gloated over the victims he cruelly tortured will experience similar sufferings in his soul. His imagination has thrilled with, and delighted in, the ugliness of pain, so that ugliness surrounds, penetrates and overwhelms, in the dark places, of his own creation.

Only, of course, for a time will he experience this feverish fantasy. He comes to a point when his goaded self craves to make the leap in evolution. Either he must go further into the Illusory-world and enter a state of darkness and isolation where he may re-organize his whole being, or he may choose to return to earth. Usually, the latter course is preferred, such men can seldom face a period of existence in darkness and solitude.

If, however, he returns to earth, he faces an existence of frustration and disappointment, of powerlessness in many cases, and thus only may he slowly evolve, coming, perhaps, in that fresh earth life, into the inheritance of pity which he derives from the disasters of his lot.

The various sinister figures of history all pass through such phases and all react differently. Some swiftly learning to control the errors of their imagination process, change fundamentally in a life-time. Some make little progress, but may eventually be rescued by other souls within their Group and be led thus out of reach of harm from the baleful fires of their own natures.

In certain cases salvation is only obtained through the actual destruction of a part of this soul's imagination, of, indeed, those scenes of evil which furnish it; and, with their suggestion, renew and feed afresh the sadistic streak that darkens the man's nature.

You may now perceive how vital is the creative activity within each human being, how it is indeed the very core of self, and prepares and builds up a life beyond a life, circumstance and happening for the unborn babe, either in the world beyond death, or again on this earth.

The Construction of the World beyond Death

Every molecule, every cell has its metetheric counterpart. But in the Hereafter, time and place are known as states&emdash;states of mind&emdash;by those spirits I have called "the Wise." These latter might be described as a divine hierarchy of souls. They serve the great Cosmic Imagination and rule and guide the tides of life and death. Into their charge is given the care of the so-called dead.

The Wise keep order and unity though they cannot alter the fate of the traveller who comes from earth. Each individual creates his future out of his past. He has free will, and is also in a measure responsible for the lives of those who belong to his Group.

Let us take as an example the soul of a wife and a mother whom we will call Margery Fitzgerald. Let us break through the mystery of death and follow her into the next world. She has been a devoted mother, and as a wife she has worked hard and unselfishly for her husband. Among the members of her family she is the first to make the crossing of death. There follows a period of rest and of dream in Hades, the intermediate world which I have previously described.

In time Margery emerges from her chrysalis state and becomes aware of her new existence and of her increased potentialities for living and loving. At a certain point in the journey she finds herself suspended in what might be described as "an air of matter." All around her stretches immensity of space. It appears to her perceptions as being pale and almost transparent. But Margery is not frightened; she is sensible of an extraordinary exhilaration, of an increased mental vigour, and, for the first time in her history, she feels like a bird floating happily, as it were, on the wind, drifting peacefully within the Unknown. After a while thoughts of those near and dear to her, who have already made the crossing of death, fill her mind; she desires their presence, and her urgent thought sounds like a voice through this apparently soundless world.

Swiftly they appear; for they have loved her dearly, and so are in tune with her mind and may hear its thoughts if directed towards them. She is still a very young soul, though she was sixty when she died. They take her to a radiant country, in beauty, as poetic as a picture by Titian. For these friends of Margery were advanced souls and consequently, when freed from the slavery of the physical body, were able to create out of their fine, sensitive imaginations surroundings that appeared quite material in character, yet were in every respect the creation of their mind and inspiring spirit. They explain to Margery that this world beyond death, which at first seemed empty space, actually consists of electrons differing only in their fineness or increased vibratory quality from those known to earthly scientists. These very subtle units are extremely plastic and, therefore, can be moulded by mind and will. In other words on earth matter cannot, as a rule, be altered by the power of thought acting directly upon it. But human beings, in the After-death, control substance through their freed&emdash;and therefore subtilized&emdash;imaginations.

Now Margery's unselfish life, her courage, her faithfulness have all perfected her creative instrument, the imagination. So, sweet as gathered flowers at dawn will be her future in the world beyond death. She learns from her companions how to shape and regulate her surroundings, for the creation of which she naturally draws from her earth memories. At first she thinks, for instance, of a garden, and in time, through the imaginative process, it appears. She desires the kind of house which could never be hers in life because of her poverty. Gradually, through pleasant labour and happy creative fancy, her imagination builds this house of dream, shapes it as a sculptor shapes marble with his chisel. She paints her landscape also out of the colors of memory, and she does not work alone. For love has drawn her within the dear, intimate circle of her youth and, in the company of others, she continues thus radiantly to live for a considerable period, until, perhaps, all those she left behind her, husband, sons and daughters, have joined her in the hereafter.

The Family Group

For the clearer understanding of the reader it is necessary to state that this hypothetical family consists of Professor Fenwick and his wife, their three sons, Martin, Walter and Michael, and an only daughter, Mary. Martin becomes engaged to Margaret, who, after his death marries Richard Harvey. This family is entirely fictitious.&emdash;E.B.G.

It is necessary to illustrate the future by taking as an example the story of a united family&emdash;a fairly rare phenomenon, but still to be met with occasionally.

Professor John Fenwick holds the Chair of Physics at the University of B&emdash;&emdash;. He is greatly attached to his wife, Anne Fenwick. She, too, loves her studious husband and is absorbed in his life and in her children.

Their eldest son, Martin, is a student of philosophy and intends to become a fellow of B&emdash;&emdash; University. Their daughter, Mary, dies at the age of ten. This is the first personal loss in that united family and both parents are, for a time, grief-stricken and oppressed by the strange cruelty of death which has so ruthlessly snatched from them this lovely child.

With the passage of years memory becomes dimmed and their sorrow passes away; the image of the child fading from their consciousness. But the problem of a life that has not been lived is not solved for the Professor, who sometimes thinks of his small daughter and ponders on the unfinished character of her experience.

Actually, when Mary before birth, chose to be born again on earth, she was in a state or condition of psychic evolution, that did not necessitate a long sojourn in the world of Matter. The girl's soul had, in an earlier incarnation, lived to be a very old human being, and so another complete life was not necessary to her development. She was, therefore, spared the experiences of adult existence and she returned to those of her Group who were living in the world of Illusion. Slowly she absorbed the memory of her earlier life, and so her soul entered into its prime and was able to imagine, and therefore create, in time, the body of an adult&emdash;the figure of a woman at its most beautiful period. When she met her parents in sleep she assumed the form that was hers on earth. She imaged it in her mind and so was able to appear in a familiar likeness.

There was between her and Professor and Mrs. Fenwick a strong and permanent bond. They had, in a previous life, some intimate relationship; the mere fact of death, though it might temporarily dim recollection, could not break this tie. So, during sleep, the parents and the daughter met on a level of consciousness which might be described by the term "inner chamber of imagination." Within this place, upon this level, conscious memory does not function. The double or sleep-body is connected, however, with the record of this experience in the case of the parents. In the case of the daughter the experience is registered on her deeper memory. She cannot, as a rule, bring back to her own world awareness of that meeting of three souls.

But, in this manner, the parents keep in touch with the daughter and come into their inheritance of subjective memory which implies knowledge of these experiences of sleep when they, too, belong to the Great Majority.

Professor Fenwick and his wife pass into the next world some thirty or thirty-five years after Mary's death. In spite of this gap of more than a quarter of a century they experience no strangeness on the occasion of their meeting with their daughter. As they are soul-comrades, as they belong to the same Group, they have been able to keep in touch with each other during the life of sleep. Sleep&emdash;if you but knew it&emdash;contains its own vivid, constructive existence. It is merely the physical body, the surface awareness, the lower levels of consciousness that rest during the hours of slumber.

Some children who die before they have reached adolescence do not meet their parents in the world between. They had only a fleeting, physical connection with them; they were strangers to each other's souls; they were not bound to each other through the comradeship of the Group. This being so, desire fades rapidly and, after death, such parents are not united to the children who went before them at an earlier time.

Within the Group there are what might be termed&emdash;for want of a better word&emdash;"psychic atoms." These consist perhaps of four or five souls; the number varies, as the number in the atom varies. Anyway, these beings are little groups within the Group and may, as with the Fenwick family, have their own intimate life which, during all the earlier stages of evolution, they do not share with others.

When the Great War was declared in 1914, Martin Was deeply disturbed by the news. He had just become engaged to Margaret Ellerton and an interesting career was opening out before him. In a little while the call came which few young men of his age and disposition cared to disobey. He became a soldier though he hated military life. Within two years of his being gazetted to an infantry regiment, he was sent to France and, in company with other young men, was suddenly and ruthlessly massacred in one of the big battles.

In the After-life, during his sojourn in Hades, his young sister, Mary, came to him. She was drawn to this brother through a very tender love that had been theirs, and which remained to them in spite of the years of separation. The two journey together into the world of Illusion or Terrene Imagination. Their imaginations have greater play now that they inhabit the finer etheric body and they create the old surroundings of the university town in company with others, who have previously inhabited it, are in outlook akin to them and who shared their earthly pursuits.

Martin resumes his philosophic studies, pursuing them with the scholastic zeal which he inherited from his father. He is happy in being able to satisfy this desire, and the companionship of his sister Mary makes up to him in some measure for the loss of Margaret, the girl he would have married if his life had not been so suddenly cut short.

As time went on, his brother Walter and his other brother, Michael, went out into the world, took up professions, and more or less drifted out of their parents' lives, but they were still bound to them by strong ties of affection.

Margaret, however, completely broke away from the Fenwicks. She married, and when a middle-aged woman, in company with her husband was killed in an accident while travelling abroad.

She would seem, therefore, to be faced with a difficult problem in the world beyond the grave. Her husband, Richard Harvey, had died at the same time as herself and accompanied her in the journey through Hades. During that period her soul was in a state of drowsy reflection when pictures of her past life drifted before her inner sight.

The review of that phase in time solved the apparent enigma of the future for the young soul. Margaret realized then that Martin, her first love, alone mattered to her because they were already psychically akin. Whereas her husband held her affections only through the physical tie which vanished with death. So, through the psychic law of gravitation, she was drawn into the life of the soldier who had been killed twenty years previously in the Great War.

In the world of Terrene Imagination she experienced the unfulfilled dreams that nested in her imagination, the love-life that she should have enjoyed with Martin Fenwick if he had not been so ruthlessly snatched from her in the days of their earthly youth. Her husband, Richard Harvey, loved her and was faced with the fact of her loss. In what manner did the Illusion-world furnish him with the compensations which are characteristic of that fanciful effortless sphere?

He was greatly attached to his mother. The old affection revived as he surveyed his past when in Hades. He found her, wise and maternal, with all the protective quality which is characteristic of that form of affection. He turned to her, entered her life and, having been absorbed in sport and in the pursuits of a land-owner, sought again, in her company, those familiar pleasures which now might be so easily created out of the stuff 4 imagination.

Professor Fenwick and his wife are typical representatives of University life. They possess a certain thinness of imagination, they are too entirely reasonable to experience, for any length of time, an existence other than the one they find in the world of Finite Reality&emdash;which is another term for the state of Illusion. But at least they possess warmth of affection for each other and regard the rest of the world with beneficent, if somewhat selfish detachment.

So, when the Professor and his wife pass down the long gallery they do not re-act violently, nor are they led into the dark places of creative fancy. Their lives were not stained with cruelty or any pronounced vices. They were gentle and affable though egotistical, and lacking in sympathy with mankind.

In the world of Finite Reality they experience joy at meeting their son, Martin, and their daughter, Mary, and they live happily for a time in the old surroundings of the B&emdash;&emdash; University. However, Mary, Martin and Margaret, his wife, have deeper, richer natures, and soon pass on to a higher level. In this world they evolve in the spiritual, creative sense, and weary, therefore, of the monotony of an existence within earthly memories.

So they set out on the higher adventure. They bid farewell to their parents and leave behind them the old grey colleges, the Gothic church and the quiet, cloistered surroundings which seemed, at one time, to satisfy all their needs. The cause for this change is to be found in the creative impulse which stirs anew in them; which seeks a higher and a greater awareness, a new enterprise, and surroundings that are no longer shaped out of earth memories, but in appearance, construction and being, are beyond any conceptions they had formed of reality when they inhabited their physical bodies.

These three are, indeed, on the level of the Soul-man and so, though they experience grief at parting with their friends and relations and the old university town&emdash;now imaginatively conceived&emdash;yet they do not hesitate, for they have received the summons to the next state of being, to the world of Eidos. Their ardent and more spiritually active natures compel them to take this upward step, to make a leap in evolution and, because their perceptions have become finer, enter into the enjoyment of a loftier world, magnificent, exquisite, full of strange beauties and forms that may still be, in some respects, reminiscent of earth. These are, however, infinite in variety. They are composed of colors and lights unknown to man. There, on this level, will be found a perfection in outward form, in surface appearances; a perfection only occasionally realized in the creations of the greatest of earthly artists.

There are certain disadvantages attached to membership of a united family. Such unity may lead to selfishness, to lack of regard or thought for other human beings. Mrs. Fenwick was too possessive a mother and a wife, and was principally responsible for the tying of the family knot. Her husband and her two sons, Walter and Michael, all became so closely bound to each other, largely through these qualities of hers, that they failed on earth to make any sure contact with men and women outside the family circle. Walter married but he was an unsatisfactory husband because the mother's love was still wound about the adult man like swaddling clothes. Bitterness arose, husband and wife quarrelled frequently, and eventually parted. Then Walter devoted himself to making money and remained attached to his mother and his home.

Michael did not marry; his mother's love and his father's pride in him having led to his developing an inordinate affection for himself, so that he had no love left for any other living creature. He too, however, revered his father, and always preserved a selfish affection for his mother. He was a man-about-town and towards the end of his days spent most of his time at his club.

It was somewhat startling for Michael to wake up from his egoistic dreams. But he discovered in his gallery the pleasant pictures of his days of childhood and youth, and always in them figured the adoring mother, the proud father. So, when his term in Hades was completed he found himself with Professor and Mrs. Fenwick in the illusory, imaginatively conceived university town of B&emdash;&emdash;.

Walter followed his brother very swiftly from earth; and now all desires would seem to be satisfied. The parents and their two sons might continue to live and delight in their memory-world. On earth they were a united family, and now they were united once more, while the knot, which had been loosened through death and separation, was pulled tighter than ever.

Clearly all four had reached heaven: they might continue old pursuits, seek out old pleasures and admire each other as in past days. Actually, however, they were&emdash;as spiritual beings&emdash;extremely undeveloped and had not, therefore, the capacity to create either a heaven or a hell for themselves. Their souls had shrivelled, as it were, through their entire disregard of all save their immediate selves.

On earth Walter's favourite pursuit was the making of money. It gave him importance in the eyes of his family and it did not interfere with his love for his mother. So he obtained considerable pleasure from a fortune honestly gained but carefully hoarded, for he was mean and gave nothing to charity.

Here in the other world where, at first, memory rules existence he sought for the old game of barter and exchange, for the sport of buying and selling stocks and shares. He found others of his kind who were prepared to play with him but the adventure of gathering money soon lost its charm. He discovered that, in the world of Terrene Imagination, money was no longer the criterion of worth. The majority of people no longer desired it because their minds and the greater spirits behind those minds provided them with all they desired. The man who had beautiful and vivid memories of life and of faithful love was the rich man, and for him memory yielded up its abundant treasures.

But Walter however, possessed only a mentality impoverished by his pursuit of money, by the absence from his soul of any love for living, for people or for things. It is true that he had a certain affection for his mother; and in his boredom at the failure of the game of stocks and shares, he turned to her and tried to find happiness in the antecedent relationship of mother and darling son.

As he found money-getting in company with his fellow stock-brokers to be a sham, a game in which however great the fortunes gathered they were valueless, so at last he realized that his mother's love was injudicious and foolish. Her feelings for him sprang from her gratification in possession, she admired him because he was her child. At the same time his father's pride in Walter was being undermined by this gradual appreciation of the fact that he now lived in a world where financial success was estimated at its true worth. Here men who were money-makers and nothing else were accounted as beggars; ruled by minds that knew but one passion and were deficient in imagination they were incapable of laying up for themselves the treasure which is eternal and which is necessary for the life of the soul.

Walter soon began to suffer acutely. He could obtain no pleasure from existence on this level of consciousness. The values were of a different order from those that had engrossed him on earth. In his leisure hours his mother's demands wearied and finally enraged him. His father humiliated him with criticism of his failure as a member of that world of Illusion. He longed, therefore, with all his heart for the earth life, for those hours of excitement when he bought and sold on the Exchange, for the satisfaction of being courted and flattered because he was a monied man.

He began, indeed, to dream back, and so there came what is called the earth pull, the birth pull. He returned to the intermediate world, and rested there for a while in the chrysalis state; in that condition he perceived himself and his past as in a mirror. Then, when all that made up his being had floated in procession across that glassy surface, the spirit as judge summed up the vision for him and bade him choose.

It is hardly necessary to declare the nature of that choice. Inevitably the soul of this primitive man looked back towards the earth and clamoured for entry again into world-time, clamoured for a physical body and the conditions in which for Walter it alone seemed possible to exist. In the life beyond death he had been like a fish on dry land, unable to breathe that rarer atmosphere. So he deliberately chose to be reborn;* but this time he came back with a certain amount of knowledge of the poverty of his soul, and was in a condition to learn and to develop, readier to throw himself outward and to live no longer for the sake of one selfish person, one tie.

* At the time of conception the soul of the unborn babe makes a link with the mother. So, psychically, there is a connection between the soul and the germ as soon as fertilisation has taken place. It may be said that life begins for the babe from that moment. When a soul seeks rebirth on earth, its etheric body is absorbed by the double which accompanies it through this incarnation. Let us take as an analogy a seed which is all that is left of the blossom and fruit of a past summer. Yet it contains the potential flower and fruit of a future summer. Equally, the etheric body is reduced to the littleness of a seed and has its dormant characteristics, particularly during the first half of a soul's new life on earth. But be assured that there will come the time of flowering and the fruit gathered in the After-death.&emdash;F.W.H.M.

During the time of this preparation before rebirth, the spirit, or Light from Above, sought for Walter the earthly conditions which would be best fitted to develop his nascent desire for improvement, and which would also help to enlarge his outlook and enrich his nature. It was decided therefore, that his soul should now inhabit a female form, that he should be born into poverty and meet with insuperable difficulties at nearly every step of his road. Still more importantly, because he had despised and rejected Love he must now be refused it and in loneliness learn the lessons which only adversity can teach.

Thus by going back he made a step forward, and in this new incarnation was able to harvest far richer potentialities for existence on a higher level of consciousness. Through trouble he carved and reshaped himself, increasing his capacity for living in a finer world beyond the grave.

'Alen Walter deserted his family and returned to earth his mother directed her somewhat possessive attention upon her husband. But the Professor was not satisfactorily responsive. He would not tear himself away from his studies of the construction and nature of the Illusory-world. His scholarly but unimaginative mind still followed the old cart ruts of thought. He was as he had been in the days of his occupation of his Chair at the University. He had not moved on but remained an extremely reasonable materialist, the same beneficent academic figure. Only now he believed that when he had completely exhausted his subject, his ego would disintegrate, give up the ghost, fading out from sheer weariness. This idea satisfied and he found a shallow happiness in meeting other academically minded friends and in ruminating upon, and rummaging in, the and chambers of learning. Mrs. Fenwick could not rouse him, or draw him out of his rut. So she turned to Michael, her bachelor son, seeking her happiness in him.

Of all six members of the Fenwick family Michael might be said to be the lowest in the scale of psychic evolution. When he left the earth he was, in many respects, a mere nonentity, having allowed his mental gifts to atrophy and his interests to become deplorably narrow. He had never really lived. Existence came to him at second hand. It is true that he had no serious vices; he was merely self-absorbed and indolent, unstirred by any creative energy or even, as was his brother Walter, by a perverted love for money. So his mother, who was beginning to wake from the dream of this Illusion-world, could find neither happiness nor any responsive warmth in his society. He offered her merely the conventional respect and regard that he had given to her on earth.

Thrown back upon herself, her passionate, possessive nature caused her to yearn for her favourite son Walter; so she returned to the shadow-gallery where again the choice is made.

And her spirit came with the mirror, showing her more than her own life, casting upon the glass images of happenings and misfortunes in the earth life of her son Walter who now was facing the hard upward road of progress in the world of Matter.

His troubles lit up the unselfish quality which is usually buried somewhere in a woman's maternal love. She did not want to return to earth. Behind her lay the effortless existence of fantasy where she might contentedly abide for centuries. But Walter's need conquered; she decided to be reborn, petitioning only, even though it might mean suffering, that she should be permitted in some manner to help him in his new earth life.

Her request was granted; and thus was she cured, thus did she make reparation for her shortcomings as a mother and for her injurious influence on her family in her previous earth life.

The Professor and his wife belonged to the same group-soul. So he soon began to feel his loneliness, to desire something more than intellectual pleasures, than dialectical triumphs over his fellows. His was in many respects a fine mind; now his emotional nature, which had been severely repressed, awakened, he began to feel an urgent need for human love, for special and intimate companionship. The Effortless-world no longer pleased and, though utterly weary of it, the unfortunate scholar discovered that he could not renounce existence, that there seemed no prospect of a convenient disintegration.

A purgatorial period ensued. The Professor yearned in vain for his daughter, for Martin or his wife. The bonds that held the family together had been untied and he was condemned to pay the price of the narrow clannishness which had cut them off from their fellow men during their earth life.

Martin, however, caught the echo of his father's cry of loneliness as it came faintly to him in Eidos. So he journeyed back and though he might not actually show himself to the Professor, the strong bonds of affection that linked them to each other enabled him to act as his guide. Soon with his help Fenwick rectified the mistakes into which he had been led when on earth. He looked beyond the family circle; he visited the dark places in the world beyond death where strange and perverted souls abide. Thus pity and compassion were roused in his rather desiccated academic soul. And as Paul fought with the beasts in Ephesus so the Professor fought with the monsters shaped by the imaginations of those who, passing over from earth, lived in a hell of their own creation.

Gradually, through this labour for others, the Professor evolved, breaking the hard crust that had inhibited and confined his generous nature. In time so freed was he from the limitations that hindered him he was able to realize the possibilities of the kingdom within himself. He came to know loveliness and began to realize the creative side of his larger self. So his soul flowered and he was permitted to journey to Eidos where he rejoined his son and daughter, where he gained the knowledge of immortality, the knowledge of the stupendous grandeur of the peaks to which a soul may rise if heart and mind, if imagination and passion are directed by creative love and wisdom.

Michael remained for centuries inert on the Third plane, becoming more and more of a negation, sinking lower and lower in the scale of consciousness by reason of his vegetative, selfish existence.

Finally, for him also there came an awakening, but like his brother he had to return to earth. There through the educative influence of a crippled physical existence he gradually changed, his better nature awakened and he was able to understand the pictures of his existence when, after another earth journey, he passed once more down the long gallery.

The members of the Fenwick family offended not so much individually, but as a unit. So the unit was broken up, its parts scattered. And though some day all of them will meet again they will with one exception journey along different roads through time and space until they evolve and add to themselves the precious and necessary sense of the group-soul, of its communal character, of its divine sharing of experience, wisdom, life and love.

The previous examples of lives passed in the world of Illusion are purely hypothetical. But the following narrative relates to a case the details of which it is stated are known to the communicator.&emdash;E.B.G.

The Dream-Child

A certain mother longed for a daughter. Sons were born to her, but the little girl she desired so much never appeared in the flesh. Yet she is waiting for her mother in the world beyond death, for her soul has, on two or three occasions, made the attempt to be born but failed in each instance. There is a cogent reason for this failure. The soul of the daughter may not meet the mother in full conscious knowledge until after the latter's death. They meet already, but subjectively, in the manner I have described in a previous chapter. I might call this daughter the "dreamchild." She has a lovely soul and if she had been born into this present life would have made a paradise for her mother.

Now during this earth life, owing to the fact that this particular heart's desire of hers was not granted, the mother has learned much and developed spiritually. The little daughter was bound to absorb her attention, leading her to become selfish, and only occupied with the pleasure of motherhood. For the child would have made radiant all her days. Such happiness belongs as a rule to the first heaven-world&emdash;to Eidos, and there she will, in due course, experience such joy. In the world of Illusion she will meet this daughter and be so overjoyed at seeing her and having her companionship that the separation from her sons, caused by death, will not inflict the suffering that might otherwise have been her portion.

So there is a providence in the fact that this child has never been given into her charge during her earth life. After death the mother will obtain her longing&emdash;a quiet, lovely, country place where her family live and come and go&emdash;a nursery where she finds this little daughter who fulfills the dream, is the dream of her imagination, the one she proudly cherishes and shows to her own brothers and sisters and to her parents; the pretty little birdlike thing with whom she plays baby games and thus fulfills her own nature, the child to whom she loves to give: the playmate she dresses up and adorns: to her that treasure beyond other treasures&emdash;a small girl, dainty, exquisite, needing all her protection and love.

Therefore, the mother's true happiness lies in the world beyond death. Deep down she already knows this little daughter because they belong to the same group-soul, and because she has been with the child when she was in deep slumber. But the inexorable supernal law forbids her to bring the memory back to her conscious life, she bears only the ache of parting from the child and this ache is expressed in a vague dissatisfaction&emdash;a kind of weariness or feeling of disappointment which she cannot understand and attributes to all but the true cause. After death her memory of these meetings with her daughter will be recaptured by her soul, and so they will meet as adoring mother and child.

But you must not assume that the many years of earth-time affect this child. In the Hereafter there exists a subjective time that may run according to the character of the souls who make the varying patterns within the Group. Appearance and desire will harmonise. At the time of the mother's death and entry into the new life, the daughter will have reached that lovely age when the child begins to talk brokenly, to make brave expeditions&emdash;half crawling, half walking&emdash;across the vast expanse of nursery floor. AH the enchantment of the great, big world for the slowly blossoming intelligence will be perceived by the mother when she comes over here: she will find all that she has most desired on earth in the Lotus Flower Paradise which lies beyond tawdry death, beyond the tomb.

You may say that this picture I have drawn of a mother's happiness and heaven sounds too good to be true. But bear in mind that Fate presents a debit and credit account. The mother, in this case, has known a great deal of unhappiness while on earth-troubles and disappointments that torment and take the color out of life. So, before she chooses to go farther along the road to immortality, her heart's desire is granted and she reaps the full harvest from the grain sown with care and toil and sometimes pain in that terrestrial life of hers.

I was interested in this woman's soul and traced it back to the roots, and so made the acquaintance of the dream-child. I see that she is the outstanding feature in the former's supernal existence. As things are the mother will always be deeply affected by the pull of this other world where lives the dream-child. For where your treasure is there will your heart be also.

I should like to draw your attention to my repeated statements that imagination has extraordinary creative force in some instances, and you must not think it essential that to be an artist it is necessary to paint pictures, or write poems, or compose music. This mother is essentially an artist and such an artist may make a poem of life. If she be a mother she may desire to make a poem of childhood for a small daughter.

Pray remember always that, however you are placed, you can make an art of living and thus enrich the lives of those who are of your immediate circle.

Human Personality and Survival

It is true that when friends meet they build up the structure of each other, they create one another; they deepen and extend character, color the framework that has seemed bare and inexpressive and generally achieve a picture or creation of the self, that vanes with the company.

I am, therefore, perplexed as to the use of the term "Personality" in relation to survival. It may be as elusive and ephemeral in the superficial sense, as images in water. Pray look up the meaning of the word in the dictionary. (At this request E.B.G. fetched a dictionary (Annandale's) and read as directed. The communicator selected a sentence and rewrote it as above.)

"The state of existing as a thinking, intelligent being," such is the meaning of the word personality, if we follow the ruling of the dictionary. Unfortunately, many materialists would alter its signification and demand of personality not merely thought and intelligence; but the material attributes of face, features, figure and gesture. They would declare it to be an expression of the physical organism. For them, the physical structure alone is real. When, therefore, the student of psychical research argues with a materialist on the subject of the survival of human personality, the two are usually at cross purposes; the materialist maintaining that the personality does not continue when life no longer animates the body.

This argument rests upon an unsatisfactory basis. It is necessary, indeed, that a definition of this important word should be made once more. For it is the very kernel of the dispute between the protagonists of temporary and eternal life.

The term "human personality" is described as the state of existing as a thinking, intelligent being. Therefore, idiots and madmen would not be permitted the privilege of possessing a personality. This necessarily limits our debate to sane people, which, in itself, is a little unfortunate. Further, we have to note that the state of existing as a thinking, intelligent being, does not necessarily imply physical characteristics. It may imply, however, association with a body. For that, in human thought, is suggestive of a presence which can react upon another presence or appearance. Therefore, when discussing the survival of human personality, the student should discard the idea of any bodiless creation. He should endeavor to imagine the possible conditions that prevail.

It is conceivable, he would argue, that there is a body vibrating at a slightly higher rate of intensity which accompanies the human being from birth till death&emdash;a body invisible to the eye, which receives the soul or conscious intelligence during sleep&emdash;a body which, at all times, acts as intermediary between the intellect, imagination and the physical shape.

Having accepted, as an hypothesis, this etheric shape, it would be well to describe it by the word "double" or, "unifying mechanism." For it is, in construction, just as automatic in its responses as the physical shape. Further, this double is in the likeness of the visible manifestation of the man. So similar are they in appearance, they might be described as twins if they could be visualised together. The double, indeed, reflects the impressions of its companion, receives the memories registered by the senses and imprints those impressions on its brain-substance, which connects it with the mental representations that are, indeed, the very stuff of memory.

It will be recognized therefore, that the word "double" in part expresses the meaning of this finer mechanism which serves the mind and bears the burden of communication between the higher centers and the physical brain. Actually, in order to complete the meaning, the word "unifying" seems essential, for it conveys the purpose of this etheric mechanism,&emdash;namely, that it serves to unite, to correlate, to harmonise, to bring together all the working parts of the human being.

On this basic structure the student may build up his arguments when he engages the materialist in discussion. He can account, for instance, for loss of memory in the ageing man or woman, by the fact that the soul can no longer effectively impress the deteriorating physical brain. The machine is too worn to be responsive. On the other hand, the memory of the individual is retained and registered very fully in the unifying body. This body does not imitate its companion and gradually decay as the years pass. In MY previous book I have called it the "husk," for it contains and shelters the nascent manifestation which is to be eventually the body of the soul in the world after death.

During the whole of a man's life, this potential expression of personality is forming in the etheric womb, is growing during the span of twenty, fifty, seventy years, whatever may be the term of his sojourn on earth. As the shell of an egg is thrown away&emdash; discarded, so is the husk after the travail of birth which occurs in Hades.

However, birth in the world of Matter is a different affair in many respects from birth into the world beyond death. Two, three or more discarnate souls as a rule assist the dying man, freeing him from that level of consciousness on which he dwells when he walks the planet Earth. They do not, like a mother, suffer terrible pains, they are apart from the mechanism of birth. Herein lies the initial difference between the two worlds, the two levels of consciousness.

The task of those beings, who attend upon the dissolution of the physical shape, requires considerable skill. They must gently sever the web that holds the double to the broken frame. In the case of illness they gradually break the threads, taking them one by one so that the soul meets with no sudden shock that might inhibit progress in the coming life for a time.

Even the infant that is born dead possesses a double which is the exact counterpart of the double that would have accompanied the child if its small, physical shape had lived and commenced growth on the material plane. This infant-soul will slowly evolve in the world beyond death. Its etheric body, inherited from a previous life, will, however, provide it in time with a form which attains to maturity.

Actually, the stillborn child is an example of the soul who has made a mistake in its choice, who has sought a return to earth when, by reason of a previous incarnation, or because of the pattern woven by fate, this being should have continued life in the world of Terrene Imagination.

Finally, I may say that it is possible for the embryonic souls of animals so to evolve that many, making one group, eventually become one human soul. In this matter there is no question of good or evil, it is merely founded on the basic principle that consciousness must find experiences in a more and more complicated organism until it reaches the human level.

We are, however, at the moment interested in the double. During sleep, this body receives the soul and feeds the physical shape with life units, with nervous force, and resembles in every particular the human form. All the organs are similar, and it is indeed as an image or reflection in a glass. But it vibrates with greater intensity; and when a man's life draws to a close the subliminal self commences its work of developing the etheric shape within the double. This again will resemble the man as he appears to his friends; but it will be in the prime of life, or will image youth, particularly if a man passes from the physical plane before he reaches his three score years and ten.

However, the mind of the group-soul cannot complete the task of re-imaging and developing this body of the man until his soul resides for a period in Hades. So the artist or spirit, who controls the life of the Group, in collaboration with the soul, re-creates the appearance or manifestation; but all that is fundamental in the man's nature is retained. The outward form in the new world will express what he has been on earth.

The Double in Association with the Living Physical Body

The double holds the physical body within its grip and is a power for integration. Even when the human being sleeps and the former no longer occupies the material shape the latter is controlled by a fine webby certain threads and two cords which unite it to its finer semblance.

Mind does not merely communicate through the mechanism of the brain. It is in indirect contact with other physical centers such as the ductless glands, the solar plexus and the sacral plexus. But the soul has to work through the medium of the double and never directly commands matter. Always there is this unifying body which comes between the self and his outward appearance in the material world.

Ectoplasm may be said to be an intermediate substance almost semi-physical in character which is of the life principle and has not yet gone through the digestive processes. The double distils and imparts ectoplasm, distributing it through the body, its ultimate purpose being the nourishment of the nerves and the enrichment of the cells.

This substance may be possessed by certain rare individuals in superabundance and such people usually find that they possess the gift of physical mediumship. Given certain trance conditions they can exteriorise it, and there have been mediums whose unifying body may be so mastered by a discarnate intelligence, that the latter can cause the temporary disappearance of a part of the actual physical shape through its rhythm being altered, transposed into the higher vibratory rate of the double.

Students of psychical research will recall instances of this curious phenomenon and will find the explanation for it in the controls who operate from this side and in a certain elasticity and looseness which characterizes the double of one individual in many millions.

Now, when the ordinary man is fully awake, his unifying body rests within the physical shape. The two forms fit into each other and pervade each other exactly. But, as soon as a man becomes drowsy, the double tilts outwards; and one who can see with the inner eye will perceive a pale form which has, perhaps, half emerged from the actual material body. If a shock or noise rouses its owner, instantly it slips back within the physical manifestation of the individual.

Disease and the Double

Emotion may be said to be a force that is of an electrical type and can radiate outwards from the human being. The ductless glands are primarily related to the emotional nature and may be called the emotional brain. The soul, working through the double, affects these glands and they in their turn can change the chemical composition of the blood. When the mind fails to function adequately through the channel that connects it with a certain gland the character of the individual alters, and strange abnormalities occur. These are sometimes due to some weakness in the double, or, on occasions, to a fault in the soul when controlling mind. Usually, the soul should be held responsible for the vagaries of the glands, for inadequate or excessive secretions.

The medical man may inform you that character and personality depend to a considerable extent, perhaps almost altogether, on these glands. He would seem, in view of the abnormal cases that come his way, to have cogent reasons for setting up such a dogma. But it is, in reality, necessary for him to look deeper to find the cause for the unusual functioning of these physiological centers. He must look for it in the soul who may be said to have failed to regulate them: this failure being due to some errors committed by the subliminal self.

I am making a bold and, no doubt, questionable statement in saying that suggestion strongly and repeatedly made by a certain individual to his subconsciousness will, in conjunction with a certain manner of living and a system of exercises, lead to improved secretions in connection with a gland which is defective or over effective in its activities. Further, I would add that some diseases are the direct result of a weakness in the unifying body. Some forms of cancer may be traced directly to a defect in this invisible shape. Until, therefore, medical men realize that as wireless messages are invisible so there is an invisible organism functioning, they will be hindered and held back from the discovery of a cure for certain kinds of cancer.

When a man or woman suffers from an incurable disease and experiences considerable pain both mentally and physically, then a doctor should, of his mercy, gradually relieve the sufferer, giving him some drug that will enable him to pass quietly and not too swiftly from his material body. For the soul is not injured or evilly affected by the character of this death. So long as the doctor does not cause the soul to be too rapidly dissociated from the diseased body, so long as he causes release to come gently over a period at any rate of three or four days, then he is entirely justified in committing what is still held to be murder by the law of the land.

Disease and the human being do not, however, concern us deeply in a discussion of personality. It will be recognized that the existence of an invisible unifying body has not, so far, been disproved; nor has it, the sceptic will argue, been proved to exist. Such proof, nevertheless, will in time be furnished to man. In the meanwhile, if the hypothesis of this subtle mechanism be accepted; if it be the medium between the soul and the brain, then an extension of the meaning of the word "personality" has to be made. For necessarily this other part, this delicate construction, affects and influences by its nature the outward appearance and shape, all that expresses the personality. The swift and sluggish mentalities may and do act thus because of the character of the channel through which mind operates. That is to say, the double can be a blocked filter, or it may be clear of all obstructions and perfectly convey the messages from the higher centers of the soul.

Suicides

One of the reasons why we discarnate beings urge, when we communicate, that no man or woman should take his or her life, lies in the fact that the condition of mind&emdash;despair, terror or cynical disillusionment which usually accompanies the suicide&emdash;is greatly intensified when he realizes that he can no longer control his physical body. He may not always realize that he is dead; but the mood that drove him to self-slaughter will envelop him like a cloud from which we, on the other side of death may not for a long while give him release. His emotional thoughts, his whole attitude of mind set up a barrier which can only be broken down by his own strenuous efforts, by a brave control of himself, and above all by the call sent out with all the strength of his soul, to a higher being to bestow succour, to grant release. Unfortunately, the suicide is usually inverted, his whole consciousness thrown inwards&emdash;subjectivity in its darkest aspect rules and dominates so that he punishes himself for his act, and yet, very often believes that the punishment is not due to his deed but to malevolent powers which control his surroundings. And indeed, in many cases, the sinister brooding which precedes suicide will tend to summon certain non-human beings, elementals who can trouble, disturb, dismay and torment him. For they can reach to his earth-bound level and may appear in tangible form to his feverish fancy.

I am not, of course, in these remarks embodying the post-mortem history of every suicide. There are exceptions&emdash;cases wherein the man who kills himself is filled with some noble purpose, sacrifices his life in order that, through his death, others may be relieved of want, or of the painful sight of a loved one slowly perishing of an incurable disease. The very mood, then, in which he commits the last dread act, has in it a certain fine fervour, a confidence that leads him to throw his consciousness outwards; there is, in short, an absence of egoistic self-consciousness which redeems him in the black hours after his passing. And though his double can only be slowly released from the entanglement of the fine web that bound him to the human frame, yet he is not violently suffering: his soul being satisfied, he is haunted by no inverted despair, no torment of self-pity. So the dark beings cannot obtain access to his world and fail to appear even as feverish dreams.

The man who commits suicide from unjustifiable motives dwells for some time in the darkness of Hades and later in the lower zones of the world of Illusion. But the posthumous career of each suicide varies according to his character and the life followed by him when he was on earth. Moreover, there are instances in which a man takes his own life because a suggestion of this kind has been repeatedly made to him by some obsessing spirit. Then, though he abides for a while in darkness, it is not he but the obsessor who pays the full penalty for such an act.

Thus, in discussing the penalties that may be attached to suicide, you must bear in mind the character of the soul, the mood, the motives behind the act, and until these are clearly envisaged you are not in a position to calculate its consequences.

I may add that in the event of sudden death the passing will in many cases vary, and for certain happy souls be comparatively smooth. No account or description of this break from the body can be said to cover all experiences in this connection. I only take a common denominator and write of the experiences of the majority. The ancient prayer that we should be delivered from sudden death was derived from an old wisdom, an occult knowledge now lost to scientific men.

It is inevitable, that the man who dies suddenly in his prime, will linger longer in the intermediate world, will make slower progress towards the brilliant light, the clearer air of the other invisible life which vibrates in the depths of space. This life vibrates also about earthly men and women yet is not of them: flows through their crowded streets, over their mountains, passes within and above solid ground and remains apart, aloof from all that material existence, as if indeed it did not exist at all, or as if men and women and their cities were ghosts, who, in very rare and singular instances, haunted the world that is the home of the newly dead.

Of course I speak of those discarnate beings who are not explorers as I am, seeking for their own particular reasons, the earth which once they knew; who coolly, through certain processes of imagination and will, break a way through to the collective mind of men and blend with a sensitive or sensitives who will interpret their ideas.

Nor do I allude to certain souls bound by ties of love to men and women, souls who can enter again into the private subjective minds of those dear to them and so share their existence, though they are parted from them by death. I speak for that large majority of the newly-dead when I claim that they pursue a life within and without the material world, and yet, while in full consciousness, are wholly unaware of it. I speak for those beings whose kinsfolk shut the door upon their dead, making no effort to seek communion with them, refusing through fear, preoccupation, or mistaken piety, to offer at least an opportunity for meeting, for renewal of intercourse, for even a brief greeting or parting word.

There are numerous souls of course, who, in spite of the aloofness, of the ignorance of those they love, succeed, when in a dream state, in perceiving the desired and cherished individual left behind&emdash;as if they were occupying the same world and existed on the same plane. But, on the whole, I think I may say that, in the present time, world vibrates within world, millions of souls within millions of souls; and yet, these, in their lives and wakeful hours, are entirely invisible to each other&emdash;isolated, cut off, unrealized in any particular because they exist in a different rhythm. If he could perceive the two conditions, the psychologist would admit that these two orders of beings interpenetrate, occupying relatively, the same localities.

However, the above statement does not, of course, cover the period of deep slumber for the human being&emdash;when he goes out in his double and at times enters the subjective minds of those two or three discarnate beings who are bound to him by ties of warm affection.

Chapter IV

REINCARNATION

I Am quite clear that those human beings who live almost wholly in the physical sense while on earth, must be reborn in order that they may experience an intellectual and higher form of emotional life. In other words, those human beings I have described as "Animal-man" almost invariably reincarnate.

Some of the individuals I have designated by the term, "Soul-man," also choose to live again on earth. But metempsychosis does not involve a machine-like regularity of return. I have not noted any evidence of a continual progression of births and deaths for any one particular soul. I do not for a moment believe that the individual returns a hundred times or more to the earth. This is indeed, a wrong assumption. There may, of course, be certain exceptions which you are more likely to meet with among those primitive beings who seem incapable of aspiration&emdash;of desire to rise above their physical nature. But the majority of people only reincarnate two, three or four times. Though if they have some human purpose or plan to achieve they may return as many as eight or nine times. No arbitrary figure can be named. We are only fairly safe in concluding that, in the human form, they are not doomed to wander over the space of fifty, a hundred and more lives.

They do not, it may be suggested, gather any proper share of experience from the few earth existences that are thus allotted to them. But provision has been made for the ignorance that is necessarily incurred through the whole span of lives covering but a fragment of typical experience.

Beggar, jester, king, poet, mother, soldier. I mention only six of the varied roles that would seem to provide lives entirely different in condition and in kind. It must, incidentally, be observed that these people all use the five senses&emdash;unless indeed fate steals one or more from them&emdash;that they all experience the same fundamental emotions; these being merely altered according to the character and rhythm of the physical organism.

However, it is well to be agreed that, even if we run, the race of life on earth six times, we touch but on the fringe of human experience. We have obtained only a certain discipline. We have not plumbed the depths or scaled the heights of being; we have not covered all the space of human consciousness, of human feeling. Yet I can assure you that until we have harvested many times the fruits of lives spent on earth we shall not, save in exceptional cases, live on the higher planes beyond death.

It is not necessary for us to return to earth to gather into our granary this manifold variety of life and knowledge. We can reap, bind and bring much of it home by participating in the life of our group-soul. Many belong to it and these may spread themselves in their journeys over past, present and future. Indeed in the Group, we speak of the life of a man as a "journey." Very well. I have not, at any time, been a member of the yellow races, but there are souls in my Group who have known and lived that eastern life, and I may, and do, enter into every act and emotion in their past chronicles.

Through our communal existence I perceive and feel the drama in the earthly journey of a Buddhist priest, of an American merchant, of an Italian painter, and I am, if I assimilate the life thus lived, spared the living of it in the flesh.

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