"Phylos," said Mol Lang, "thou shalt now presently behold a man, all in a world of his own. He may not come to us, but we will go to him, and enter into perception of those things which he sees, and because we enter into his perception, therefore we shall be fellow spirits with him, not mere images of his conceptions. Then shall his environment seem as real to us as it does to him; nevertheless his world is (except for such visitors as ourselves, and those few, or perhaps many other souls who are on his identical plane) merely a world of him own conception; it exists not for him who is his neighbor, who will be, as we shall see, on a different psychic plane. Both persons will be existent in the Mansion of the Father, who thus giveth His beloved rest.
"Phylos," Mol Lang said, "you're about to see a man in his own unique world. We can't bring him to us, but we'll go to him. We'll experience what he sees, and by doing so, we'll become fellow spirits with him, not just figments of his imagination. His environment will seem as real to us as it does to him. However, his world is purely his own creation, except for visitors like us and others on his same level of consciousness. It doesn't exist for his neighbor, who we'll see is on a different spiritual plane. Both individuals exist in the Father's House, where He gives His beloved rest."
"Let us enter into the state of that man; he is an inventor from the world of cause, and all about him shall we find evidences of his inventive dreams, which here seem to be real to him. On earth, he in imagination beheld multitudes of his fellow beings using his adaptations of mechanical and natural forces. He had motor railways which were free to the public, none indisposed to pay were obliged to do so. And he had designs of coin, which the mint (owned by himself, as he had desired while on earth, so that he might correct abuses) minted free for use by the people. So also with all other things which he had hoped to see realized on earth. Yet he died without it, and coming to the world of effects, finds it all (to him only) a fact. We will walk across this plain to the grove yonder, a mile."
"Let us enter into the state of that man. He is an inventor from the world of cause. All around him we will find evidence of his inventive dreams, which here seem real to him. On earth, in imagination, he saw multitudes of his fellow beings using his adaptations of mechanical and natural forces. He had motor railways that were free to the public, and no one unwilling to pay had to pay. And he had designs for coins, which the mint (owned by himself, as he had wished on earth, so that he might correct abuses) minted free for the people's use. It was the same with all the other things he had hoped to see come true on earth. Yet he died without them. Coming to the world of effects, he finds it all (to him only) a fact. We will walk across this plain to the grove over there, a mile away."
For some time after this we walked in silence, each content to note the beauty of the scenery. Gurgling brooks meandered through flowery meadows, groves dotted the perspective, while far away on the horizon was a line of blue hills. When we came to the grove designated by Mol Lang I saw that we were at a station, where cars of strange appearance stood on a network of tracks. People were coming and going past this central point in all directions. The cars had immense spidery wheels, many yards across. A light flight of metal stairs led to the top of a tower; the tower was also an elevator, so that while some people walked up, others were hoisted to the top, where, several rods from the ground, they stepped into the body of the car; then an engineer on the car manipulated certain machinery, and the immense wheels began to revolve, swifter, swifter, and yet swifter, until the great, light vehicle could be seen moving at an amazing speed across the country, up and down hill or around curves with equal facility.
For some time after this we walked in silence, each content to take in the beauty of the scenery. Gurgling brooks wound through flowery meadows, groves dotted the view, and far away on the horizon was a line of blue hills. When we came to the grove Mol Lang had pointed out, I saw that we were at a station. Strange-looking cars stood on a network of tracks. People were coming and going past this central point in all directions. The cars had huge, spidery wheels, many yards across. A light flight of metal stairs led to the top of a tower. The tower was also an elevator, so while some people walked up, others were lifted to the top. There, several rods above the ground, they stepped into the body of the car. Then an engineer on the car worked certain machinery, and the huge wheels began to turn, faster, faster, and faster still. Soon the great, light vehicle could be seen moving at amazing speed across the country, up and down hills or around curves with equal ease.
"Let us take a ride," quoth Semla. So we walked up the spiral stairs, and there found a pleasant man in uniform, who asked if we would pay or not.
"Let's go for a ride," said Semla. We climbed the spiral staircase and met a friendly uniformed attendant who asked if we wanted to pay for our tickets.
"Yes," said Mol Lang, "I will, but my friends will not." Thereupon he produced a coin of gold, and while the official was making the entry in his book, Mol Lang handed the coin to me to look at, and I saw that it bore a face of a man, and around the edge the superscription:
"Yes," said Mol Lang, "I will, but my friends won't." He then took out a gold coin and handed it to me while the official was recording the entry. I noticed the coin had a man's face on it, with an inscription around the edge that read:
"MERTON FOWLER, THE PEOPLE'S FRIEND."
"MERTON FOWLER, THE PEOPLE'S FRIEND."
"What conceit!" thought I, whereupon Mol Lang smiled slightly, took the coin from me and paid it over. The official asked where we would go, and for answer Mol Lang said: "To the Falls." The official knew of no such place, but said that he would put us on a car, the engineer of which would know. He conducted us to a car on the other side of his platform, and having entered, we were soon speeding away like an arrow for swiftness. The stops which we made were numerous, all for the purpose, so the engineer explained, of complying with Merton Fowler's rule that all who rode on his cars must inspect his many inventions. The variety of these was bewildering to me, and so many of them seemed to be in operation solely for the purpose of demonstrating peculiar mechanical principles, that I will not consume space for description. At length, after traveling across half a world as it seemed, though not taking a tedious amount of time, we arrived at a splendid group of buildings. Then the engineer confessed that he knew nothing of the Falls, except that he had heard his master speak of them as existing. He would go to him. Accordingly the car ran up before an edifice which looked like an office, and there he put us in charge of another person with directions to take us to Merton Fowler.
"How conceited!" I thought, prompting a slight smile from Mol Lang as he took the coin from me and paid it. The official asked our destination, to which Mol Lang replied, "The Falls." Unfamiliar with the location, the official offered to put us on a car whose engineer might know. He led us to a car on the other side of his platform, and we soon sped away like an arrow. We made numerous stops, all apparently to comply with Merton Fowler's rule that passengers must inspect his many inventions. The variety was overwhelming, and many seemed to exist solely to demonstrate peculiar mechanical principles, so I'll spare you the details. After what felt like crossing half the world, though not taking an unreasonable amount of time, we arrived at an impressive group of buildings. The engineer admitted he only knew of the Falls from his master's mentions. He offered to inquire further. The car pulled up to an office-like building, where the engineer handed us over to another person with instructions to take us to Merton Fowler.
That gentleman we found in a palatial environment, where things were of great beauty, but where all seemed to be mechanical contrivances, and to exist for that great underlying principle of the designer, the systematization of his knowledge, and the putting of it to more or less utilitarian uses. It was a very paradise for a machinist, but I was not a machinist, and it fatigued me. The number of people was amazing. Mol Lang said that not all of these were mere ideals of that prolific mind, Fowler, but that on the contrary, many of them were real personifications, a few of whom were media like ourselves, but the majority "dead," that is, disembodied souls who were on the same plane of invention and realization as the real mind in control, Merton Fowler. He was the chief here, the others similars. I asked where the Falls were situated, and the inventor, Fowler, replied that a certain author of his acquaintance lived there, and had the pleasure of listening to a mammoth pipe organ made for him by the inventor, "By myself! All men whatever," said this egotist, "are beneficiaries of mine, and recognize me as the chiefest of human kind, and greatest of all living people!"
We found that gentleman in a palatial setting. Things there were of great beauty, but all seemed to be mechanical devices. They seemed to exist for the great underlying principle of their designer: the systematizing of his knowledge, and the putting of it to more or less practical uses. It was a true paradise for a machinist. But I was not a machinist, and it tired me. The number of people was amazing. Mol Lang said that not all of these were mere ideals of Fowler's prolific mind. On the contrary, many of them were real persons. A few of these were mediums like ourselves, but the majority were "dead," that is, disembodied souls. They were on the same plane of invention and realization as the real mind in control, Merton Fowler. He was the chief here, and the others were like him. I asked where the Falls were. The inventor, Fowler, replied that a certain author he knew lived there. That author had the pleasure of listening to a huge pipe organ the inventor had made for him, "By myself! All men whatever," said this egotist, "are my beneficiaries, and recognize me as the very chief of humankind, and greatest of all living people!"
I turned away in contempt of such mammoth conceit and vanity, and as we left Mol Lang said:
I turned away, disgusted by such enormous arrogance and self-importance. As we departed, Mol Lang spoke:
"That man is arranging his concepts of a Christless life as gained on earth. When all is assimilated, he will recarnify on earth, and from his early childhood self-conceit and self-admiration will be his ruling characteristics. In his last life on earth he sowed the seeds of the one to come. Here, he enjoys the growth of those seeds. Here, too, will the harvest mature, and when all gather, he will take it to earth again to replant. Thou mightest ask what good cometh of perpetuating such vanity. I would reply: 'First, 'tis the law of God. Secondly, out of his future egotism will arise self-confidence.' His spirituality of temperament is large, his animal qualities well balanced and strong, and the good of all his conceit will manifest itself next as a governor of those forces which will lead men forward. Ere he died on earth he was a retiring man, timid, feeling himself never appreciated. When he next appears there will be a strong soul, and a leader of men to higher levels of life."
"That man is arranging his concepts of a Christless life, as gained on earth. When all is assimilated, he will reincarnate on earth. From his early childhood, self-conceit and self-admiration will be his ruling traits. In his last life on earth he sowed the seeds of the one to come. Here, he enjoys the growth of those seeds. Here, too, the harvest will ripen, and when it is all gathered, he will take it to earth again to replant. "You might ask what good comes of keeping such vanity alive. I would reply: 'First, it is the law of God. Second, out of his future egotism will come self-confidence.' His temperament has a large share of spirituality, and his animal qualities are well balanced and strong. The good of all his conceit will show itself next in his governing of those forces that will lead men forward. Before he died on earth he was a retiring man, timid, feeling that he was never appreciated. When he next appears, he will be a strong soul, and a leader of men to higher levels of life."
"Truly," I said, "all things under the hand of God work together for good!"
"Truly," I said, "all things under the hand of God work together for good!"
The Falls were in the devachanic realm of an author, who, while on earth, was a very pleasing writer, albeit extravagantly hopeful in his imaginative excursions and thought plays. This was, indeed, doubtless the reason of his popularity as an author. His mind dwelt on the sublime in nature, and on the good, the true, and the beautiful. Here in his heaven he lived his books, and found all about him the characters, the emotions, the delicate imagery and the sublime beauty which made his pages seem real to their readers, and over which tears of sympathy were shed by most perusers. To him also, these things, figments of his imagination when penned, were here become what his desire had always painted, realities, and he enjoyed the seeming actuality, nor knew it but as a dream of his life's nighttime. "Of what use, since it was only a dream?" I answer: these glorious creations of the imagination all make for that high spirituality, that keen sympathy of soul which shall soon bring about the universal Brotherhood of Mankind; it shall dawn with the dawning of the new century, creedless, boundless, asking nothing of any affiliate except high, unfaltering aspiration and action. And this author, who has been in his soul-home these many centuries, shall be one of its prophets, recarnified.
The Falls were in the devachanic realm of an author. While on earth he had been a very pleasing writer, though extravagantly hopeful in his imaginative excursions and plays of thought. This, indeed, was no doubt the reason for his popularity as an author. His mind dwelt on the sublime in nature, and on the good, the true, and the beautiful. Here in his heaven he lived his books. All about him he found the characters, the emotions, the delicate imagery and the sublime beauty that made his pages seem real to their readers. Most of those readers shed tears of sympathy over them. To him also, these things had been figments of his imagination when he wrote them. Here they had become what his desire had always pictured: realities. He enjoyed their seeming actuality, and did not know it to be only a dream of his life's nighttime. "Of what use is it, since it was only a dream?" I answer: these glorious creations of the imagination all work toward that high spirituality, that keen sympathy of soul, which will soon bring about the universal Brotherhood of Mankind. It will dawn with the dawning of the new century. It will be creedless and boundless, asking nothing of any member except high, unfaltering aspiration and action. And this author, who has been in his soul-home these many centuries, will be one of its prophets, reincarnated.
We found the Falls in a vast gorge, deep as the Royal Gorge of the Arkansas river. It connected two great lakes of rare loveliness; not the Scottish lakes or Lake Champlain are more beautiful, though either were as great as Nyanza. Over a cliff half a mile high, and in the form of a double horseshoe, each more than a mile wide, were two magnificent falls of the river, separated in the center where the middle points of the two curves met, by an island. From this cliff rose three tall conical needles of rock, up, up, up into the air, over a thousand feet each one. Around each was a spiral stairway chiseled in the enduring granite of the stream, and from top to top of each swung a suspension bridge. From the one overhanging the falls run two suspension bridges swung on great cables, miles long, reaching as they did the shores on either side of the river by a diagonal course. I felt sure that the inventor, Merton Fowler--would have conceived no such bridge, because his mechanical training would have told him such lengthy bridge-cables would break from their own weight. But this author, who was no engineer, saw no such difficulty, and consequently his concept found no bar to execution in his imagination. As it was not objective, but subjective, it existed for him, and as we were temporarily on his plane, and perceiving through. his senses, we also saw them and found them real; and to all on his plane they were real, subjectively real. But earthly eyes could not have seen them, for they see nothing except objective realities. And both states are real, but to those on the respective planes only. If the things of the spiritual are foolishness to the natural man, so are the things of the natural world too the devachanee. But I digress. The myriads of people, creations of the author's mind, used his bridge; they lived in a Utopia of his creation, and the whole was a very heaven. It all nurtured his spirituality, his reverence for God, his constructive sense even, as well as his sense of sublimity. His soul has almost assimilated the whole of these "steps toward God" and it is almost ready to recarnify as one of the deeply artistic, constructive, reverential souls of earth; one of the nobly beautiful, Godward turning leaders of the race. Is he not a worker for the Father? "By their works ye shall know them." And while and because he leads, he himself will draw nearer, with every passing hour to God; nearer to Nirvana, that glorious resting time of all the lives, out of which the spirit of man shall wake to find itself more than Man, find itself one of these sublime World-Spirits whose glittering forms fill the skies of night! Or servers of the Father in some other untellable way.
We found the Falls in a vast gorge, as deep as the Royal Gorge of the Arkansas River. It connected two great lakes of rare loveliness. Neither the Scottish lakes nor Lake Champlain are more beautiful, even if either were as great as Nyanza. Over a cliff half a mile high fell two magnificent falls of the river. They were in the form of a double horseshoe, each more than a mile wide. An island separated them in the center, where the middle points of the two curves met. From this cliff rose three tall cone-shaped needles of rock, up, up, up into the air, each one over a thousand feet. Around each was a spiral stairway carved in the enduring granite of the stream. From the top of each to the top of the next swung a suspension bridge. From the one overhanging the falls ran two more suspension bridges, hung on great cables miles long. They reached the shores on either side of the river by a diagonal course. I felt sure that the inventor, Merton Fowler, would have conceived no such bridge. His mechanical training would have told him that such long bridge-cables would break from their own weight. But this author, who was no engineer, saw no such difficulty. So his concept met no barrier to being carried out in his imagination. It was not objective but subjective, and so it existed for him. We were for the time on his plane, perceiving through his senses, so we also saw the bridges and found them real. To all on his plane they were real, subjectively real. But earthly eyes could not have seen them, for they see nothing except objective realities. Both states are real, but only to those on their own planes. If the things of the spirit are foolishness to the natural man, so are the things of the natural world to the devachanee. But I digress. The myriads of people, creations of the author's mind, used his bridge. They lived in a Utopia of his creation, and the whole was a true heaven. It all nurtured his spirituality, his reverence for God, even his constructive sense, as well as his sense of the sublime. His soul has almost assimilated the whole of these "steps toward God." It is almost ready to reincarnate as one of the deeply artistic, constructive, reverent souls of earth, one of the nobly beautiful, Godward-turning leaders of the race. Is he not a worker for the Father? "By their works ye shall know them." And while he leads, and because he leads, he himself will draw nearer to God with every passing hour. He will draw nearer to Nirvana, that glorious resting time of all the lives. Out of it the spirit of man will wake to find itself more than Man. It will find itself one of those sublime World-Spirits whose glittering forms fill the skies of night! Or it will find itself serving the Father in some other way that cannot be told.
The fact must be sufficiently obvious that the life between the grave and the cradle, life in the world of effects, is a life of assimilation of results due to causes set in operation while on earth, the world of causality. It is the character-forming realm, where effects are so arranged as to present them as causes in the succeeding earth life; not in the shape of segregate influences, but as traits of character, giving rise to well-defined policies in life on the part of individuals. Like attracts like, and if parents have certain influences governing their lives at critical times, the soul in devachan, which is perforce seeking rebirth on earth, will seize the opportunity presented of finding Its similars, similars at that time, though perhaps at that time only, like itself, but never so before, possibly never to be so again; suffice it if there be a concordant trinity at the time. There is no accident, no chance, in the Universe; all is immutable law, cause and effect. Zerah Colburn, whose precocity in mathematics whilehe was yet a little boy amazed the world, did not inherit his powers of calculation. Mozart did not inherit what neither of his parents possessed, though it is true that the maternal mind did provide attractive mental similarity by her own love for music, prenatally experienced. Atavism has been invoked to explain these cases of infantile precocity when it has been well known that neither parent had the traits which seem to have been passed to the offspring. But atavism will not wholly suffice. The question of heredity is a deep one; parents are moved by special influences, and children of that time are souls attracted from devachan to their mental similars. Such was the young Zerah Colburn: such the infant prodigy, Mozart. Zailm Numinos might have told you that Colburn was a noted Atlantean mathematician had he not neglected it in his history of Atl. And Mozart was Aleman the poet and lyrist of Spartan Greece.
The fact must be obvious enough that the life between the grave and the cradle, life in the world of effects, is a life of assimilating results. These results come from causes set in motion while on earth, the world of causality. It is the character-forming realm. There, effects are so arranged that they present themselves as causes in the next earth life. They come not as separate influences, but as traits of character, which give rise to well-defined courses of conduct in the lives of individuals. Like attracts like. If parents have certain influences governing their lives at critical times, the soul in devachan, which is necessarily seeking rebirth on earth, will seize the opportunity. It finds there its similars, like itself at that time. Perhaps they are like it at that time only, never so before, and possibly never to be so again. It is enough if there is a harmonious trinity at the time. There is no accident, no chance, in the Universe. All is unchangeable law, cause and effect. Zerah Colburn, whose precocity in mathematics amazed the world while he was still a little boy, did not inherit his powers of calculation. Mozart did not inherit what neither of his parents possessed. It is true, though, that his mother's mind did provide an attracting mental likeness, through her own love for music, experienced before his birth. Atavism has been invoked to explain these cases of childhood precocity, when it was well known that neither parent had the traits that seem to have passed to the child. But atavism will not wholly suffice. The question of heredity is a deep one. Parents are moved by special influences, and children born at that time are souls drawn from devachan to their mental similars. Such was the young Zerah Colburn, and such the infant prodigy, Mozart. Zailm Numinos might have told you that Colburn was a noted Atlantean mathematician, had he not left it out of his history of Atl. And Mozart was Aleman, the poet and lyrist of Spartan Greece.
Night seemed to be coming on; the air was pleasantly cool, and we found ourselves, after a long sail on a lovely body of water, standing on a shore whose sands and pebbles were of agate. Bamboo fringed the lake margin, and many graceful houses in quiet nooks dotted the varied landscape. The country bore some resemblance to the land of Japan, and indeed we found that we were in the concepts of an American who had resided for many years in Japan ere his entrance to devachan.
As darkness approached, the air grew refreshingly cool. We had spent hours sailing across a beautiful lake, and now found ourselves on a shore of agate sand and pebbles. Bamboo lined the water's edge, while charming houses nestled in secluded spots throughout the diverse landscape. The scenery resembled Japan, which made sense—we discovered we were in the mindscape of an American who had lived in Japan for years before entering the afterlife.
We went into a spacious veranda of a house of fine appearance, which in architectural style was a general combination of things, most comfortable. Contrary to Japanese customs, we found easy chairs instead of mate or rugs, and in these chairs we took seats, Mol Lang saying we would be welcome to do so. Ere long a servitor in Japanese costume appeared and placed a table before us, and upon it laid covers for five persons. Presently a handsome, elderly man, with a young girl, who, I judged, was his daughter, came out of the residence, and exchanged salutations with us, after the manner of true gentlefolk. This was as Mol Lang afterward explained, the real ego about whose imagery all things in this place clustered. The lake, the tropical vegetation, the remodeled Japanese people whom we met, in short, all effects here, were arranged in accord with this man's ideals. In them he saw realized his dreams of a quiet, care-free, hospitable life, and because he saw them, we also saw them, for Mol Lang had insinuated our perceptions into this man's soul plane. With him we partook of a generous supper. Liquors were not on his table, nor could any have been found in all that soul land, for the man was a total abstainer. Of course, the people whom he believed he saw, and who, for him, resided in this, his country, used no liquors more than he, for they were either his imagination's concepts, or, if real individuals, were in sympathy with the master mind, else they had not been there with him. But all this he knew not any more than one who in slumber dreams, knows at the time that the vivid dream personages and places exist solely for himself. Sometimes, truly, a night dreamer really goes away with another harmonious soul, the two being real souls on a psychic journey, it being no dream, but a fact.
We went onto the spacious veranda of a fine-looking house. Its architecture was a general mix of styles, and most comfortable. Contrary to Japanese custom, we found easy chairs instead of mats or rugs. We sat in these chairs, Mol Lang saying we were welcome to do so. Before long a servant in Japanese dress appeared and placed a table before us, and on it laid places for five persons. Soon a handsome, elderly man came out of the house with a young girl, who, I judged, was his daughter. They exchanged greetings with us in the manner of true gentlefolk. This man, as Mol Lang explained afterward, was the real ego around whose imagery everything in this place clustered. The lake, the tropical plants, the remodeled Japanese people we met, in short, all the effects here, were arranged in keeping with this man's ideals. In them he saw his dreams of a quiet, carefree, hospitable life come true. Because he saw them, we also saw them, for Mol Lang had slipped our perceptions into this man's soul plane. With him we shared a generous supper. There were no liquors on his table. Nor could any have been found in all that soul land, for the man was a total abstainer. Of course, the people he believed he saw, who for him lived in this, his country, used liquor no more than he did. They were either concepts of his imagination, or, if real individuals, were in sympathy with the master mind. Otherwise they would not have been there with him. But he knew nothing of all this, any more than a sleeper who dreams knows at the time that the vivid dream people and places exist only for himself. Sometimes, truly, a night dreamer really goes away with another harmonious soul. Then the two are real souls on a psychic journey, and it is no dream, but a fact.
This man, in all of his princely extravagance, his artistically beautiful buildings, the richness of raiment of the people whom he conceived, the statues, fountains, groves, all, things, was but quaffing imagined joys, wholly unconscious the while that they were subjective creations. They were all conceived for a single purpose, pursuit of which formed his chief joy, that of caring for the happiness of his daughter. She was his idol, his joy, the reason for being, he would have said. And she was a pretty girl, though not to my mind beautiful. She was engaging, witty, well educated, and accomplished. But I have seen many such, and thought of her as only one of hundreds I had known. We were invited to stay indefinitely in this home, and, upon Mol Lang's suggestion, accepted the offer. Days passed rapidly in this paradise, of which our host's home was the central attraction. He had great parks, and gave splendid entertainments to scores of happy people. His house was a palace in itself. The libraries, the art gallery, with thousands of fine paintings, all this, and more, made life so pleasant that several months bad elapsed ere our party of three bade him adieu. In it all we saw that the gay life was for the sake of the daughter, and held little pleasure for the father. The art gallery, too, was added to his home for her sake. The libraries were for both, and, as he said, he thought he took more pleasure in books than she did; to him books were sacred treasures. But it was in music that his soul found ecstatic rest. Such divine melodies and such exquisite technique and feeling as he exhibited in his rendition of fine music I had never even dreamed of, much excellent music as I had heard. It was as the fable of Orpheus come true. Hour after hour he played for me, while Semla was away with Mol Lang, and my soul responded in a thrill which swept it with sublime joy, until it seemed as if my being had become a personless, throbbing, sobbing stress of harmony, that could flee on the winds and set the souls of men pulsing, beating in unison! I knew that the player was a companion to me in it all. We were two souls on the same plane, reaping identical experiences.
This man, in all his princely extravagance, created a world of artistic beauty. From stunning buildings to richly dressed people, statues, fountains, and groves, he crafted an imaginary paradise. Unknowingly, these were all subjective creations, conceived for a single purpose: his daughter's happiness. She was his idol, his joy, his reason for living. His daughter was pretty, though not exceptionally beautiful. She was engaging, witty, well-educated, and accomplished—one of many such young women I had known. We were invited to stay indefinitely in this home, and on Mol Lang's suggestion, we accepted. Days flew by in this paradise, centered around our host's home. He hosted splendid entertainments for scores of happy people in his great parks. His house was a palace, complete with vast libraries and an art gallery housing thousands of fine paintings. Months passed before our group of three said goodbye. Throughout our stay, we noticed that the gay life was primarily for the daughter's benefit, holding little pleasure for the father himself. The art gallery, too, was added for her sake. The libraries were for both, though he claimed to find more joy in books than she did, considering them sacred treasures. But it was in music that his soul found true ecstasy. His divine melodies, exquisite technique, and emotional depth surpassed anything I had ever imagined. It was like witnessing the fable of Orpheus come true. He would play for hours while Semla was away with Mol Lang, and my soul responded with sublime joy. I felt as if my being had become a formless, throbbing harmony, capable of setting the souls of men pulsing in unison. I knew the player shared this experience with me—we were two souls on the same plane, reaping identical experiences.
At last a day came when Mol Lang said: "My friends, let us go hence, for other things claim our attention. A few hours here must suffice us. We will go where the daughter of this man really is."
At last a day came when Mol Lang said: "My friends, let us go from here, for other things claim our attention. Our few hours here must be enough for us. We will go where this man's daughter really is."
My friend had, I thought, spoken of the months of our tarrying in this paradise in a figurative sense when he said "a few hours." But he had not; it was really only a few hours as the people on earth had counted the same interval through which we had so recently passed. Time is, after all, only R measure of so much done by or to him who experiences its lapse; myriads of people have lived a whole century during ten minutes of other people's time. Mol Lang's remark about our being ready to go where the daughter really was I could not comprehend at the time, nor did I know for years, all because my own astral had been left behind in the Sakaza on earth; I had no means of comparison of ideas. The place I was in was the only place existent for me; that is, it and the country of the author and that of the inventor, Fowler. These I knew of, and for them a memory shell had been formed by me as I went through them; not that I was conscious of such a process of creation; I was only aware of the memories which were retained for me, and which seemed part of myself. But Mol Lang explained only that the American really had not his daughter with him, but only his ideal of her ever before him.
My friend's mention of our time in this paradise as "a few hours" wasn't figurative—it truly was only a brief period by Earth's standards, despite feeling much longer to us. Time, after all, is merely a measure of one's experiences; some people live entire lifetimes in what others perceive as mere minutes. I didn't understand Mol Lang's comment about us being ready to go where the daughter actually was. In fact, I wouldn't comprehend it for years, as my own astral form had been left behind on Earth in the Sakaza. Without it, I had no frame of reference for comparing ideas. The only places that existed for me were where I currently was, along with the countries of the author and the inventor, Fowler. I had formed memory shells of these places as I passed through them, though I wasn't aware of creating them. I only knew of the memories that were retained for me, which seemed an integral part of myself. Mol Lang simply explained that the American didn't actually have his daughter with him, but rather carried an idealized version of her in his mind.
On our departure we went down to the lake and got into a boat, and as we traveled, somehow it seemed as if, without my knowing just how or when, we had left the boat and the lake, and were in a garden, walking amidst a profusion of flowers. It was unaccountable, but did not particularly surprise me nor long occupy my attention. No one is ever astonished at anything in the psychic realm.
As we left, we headed to the lake and boarded a boat. During our journey, I found myself suddenly in a garden, surrounded by an abundance of flowers. I couldn't pinpoint exactly how or when this transition occurred. Though puzzling, it didn't shock me or hold my focus for long. In the realm of the mind, nothing ever truly surprises us.
It was a city garden, and, situated on an eminence, the residence of the owner commanded the view of a great city, extending in all directions. The house was evidently the home of a person of refinement, and while evidences of wealth were numerous, these seemed to be adjuncts of comfort, instead of a display of riches. No person could long be amidst the influences of that home, to which Mol Lang admitted us, without feeling that the owner believed herself to have a great and sacred mission in life.
The house sat atop a hill, overlooking a sprawling cityscape in every direction. It was a refined urban oasis, clearly belonging to someone of taste and means. While signs of wealth were abundant, they seemed to enhance comfort rather than flaunt riches. The home's atmosphere, which Mol Lang welcomed us into, exuded a sense of purpose. Anyone spending time there would soon realize that the owner felt she had an important and sacred mission in life.
"This is the daughter,, said Mol Lang. "The girl whom we saw in the other home was the daughter, as the father imagined her to be when he died, leaving her at that age. See how different is the woman from his conception of her. I bring thee here that thou mayest see what difference exists between the devachanic concepts of the soul and the objects conceived of. It illustrates the saying that 'heaven is what we make it.'
"This is the daughter," said Mol Lang. "The girl we saw in the other home was how her father imagined her when he died, leaving her at that age. See how different the woman is from his mental image of her. I brought you here to show you the contrast between the soul's concepts in the afterlife and the actual objects of those concepts. It illustrates the saying that 'heaven is what we make it.'"
At that moment a lady entered the room, evidently on business; her manner was full of power. She seemed not to perceive us, and after a little I coughed slightly to attract her attention. Mol Lang smiled in amusement, as he! said:
At that moment, a woman strode into the room with an air of authority, clearly there on official matters. She appeared not to notice us, so after a brief pause, I cleared my throat softly to draw her attention. Mol Lang smiled in amusement and said:
"Phylos, thou mightest cough long, and she would not know of thy presence. Why? Because we are temporarily on the earth, and I have given thee power to see earthly conditions, that is, while we are on the earth, for it might be all about us yet if we were in a different psychic condition, the earth would not be near, but vastly remote from us. This lady has not yet come to the change called death. She is one who labors to place woman on the proud basis of independence, proud, because rightfully hers. But woman will never attain to it until she does so by self-effort; nothing is won worth the having except by self-effort. When she so wins it, she will be by the side of man, not above him, for woman is not man's superior; neither below him, for she is not his inferior; but beside him, for man and woman are equal in all things. It will be a blessed day for humanity when this time comes. This lady and her sister workers are now guiding those dwellers of the earth who have not such clear understanding of the needs of the times; and they will succeed, more or less, during this century, but not brilliantly, since no great reform, nor anything greatly good, can succeed in any century, decade or year nominated by the number nine. Hence, human hopes will wax on wane, will seem to go forth to victory, but will meet only failure until the new century. Darkest of all the years will that be which is just before the dawn. This brave leader we see here will see Hope set in that last year like a star in the west, and she will die then, despairing, though hoping, with prophetic Mackay, that 'Ever the truth comes uppermost, and ever is justice done.'"
Phylos, you could cough for hours and she wouldn't notice you. Why? Because we're temporarily on Earth, and I've given you the ability to see earthly conditions. While we're here, everything might be around us, but if we were in a different psychic state, Earth would be far away. This woman hasn't yet died. She's working to give women their rightful independence. But women will only achieve this through their own efforts; nothing worthwhile comes without personal struggle. When they succeed, they'll stand beside men, not above or below them, because men and women are equal in all things. Humanity will benefit greatly when this happens. This woman and her colleagues are now guiding those on Earth who don't fully understand the needs of the times. They'll make progress this century, but it won't be spectacular. No major reform or significant good can truly succeed in any century, decade, or year ending in nine. So, human hopes will rise and fall, seeming to approach victory but ultimately failing until the new century arrives. The darkest year will be the one just before dawn. This brave leader we see will watch Hope set like a star in the west during that final year, and she'll die then, despairing yet still hoping, echoing Mackay's prophecy that "Truth always rises to the top, and justice is always served."
For a considerable time after this we were silent, for Mol Lang seldom spoke without definite cause, and it now served his purpose better to be silent. I spoke next:
We remained quiet for a long while after this exchange. Mol Lang rarely spoke without good reason, and in this moment, silence suited his purpose better. Eventually, I broke the stillness:
"What good can it be, what good can be achieved through such bitter disappointment? Such heartache?"
"What's the point of all this? What can we possibly gain from such crushing disappointment and heartbreak?"
"That which cometh ever from all things. 'Man never is, but always to be blest,' is wholly true. And it is not from the hopes we are able to bring to realization in earth life that our devachan, our heaven, is made; but from those hopes, longings, aspirations and determinations which through life are our dearest desires because we have never been able to satisfy them. They have the most happy heaven whose high-soaring souls have ever been forced to be content with the mere view of Caanan from their mountain lookouts. Let no poor, disappointed soul on earth mourn because of life's unsatisfied longings, for we do not know to-day whether we are busy or idle. In times when we have thought ourselves indolent, we have afterward discovered that much was accomplished and much was begun in us. These beginnings are fruitful, indeed, for they bestow upon us our longed-for aspirations, 'over there' if we will, in His way."
"The good that always comes from all things. 'Man never is, but always to be blest,' is wholly true. Our devachan, our heaven, is not made from the hopes we manage to fulfill in earth life. It is made from those hopes, longings, aspirations and resolves that remain our dearest desires through life because we have never been able to satisfy them. They have the happiest heaven whose high-soaring souls have always had to be content with merely viewing Canaan from their mountain lookouts. Let no poor, disappointed soul on earth mourn over life's unsatisfied longings, for we do not know today whether we are busy or idle. At times when we thought ourselves lazy, we have later discovered that much was accomplished, and much was begun in us. These beginnings are fruitful indeed, for they grant us our longed-for aspirations 'over there,' if we will, in his way."
During this discourse of Mol Lang I had glimpses of the whole, both of earth and of heaven. A thing which struck me with a feeling of peculiar anguish was that that gentle soul who thought he lived for his daughter, really had not that daughter with him, but only his self-created image of her. I had not thought of the fact that even on earth we do not have our friends, but only our concepts of them; that our supposed friend may really be our secret enemy, but if we know it not we remain happy in our ignorance. Mol Lang observed the feeling on my part and said, as he turned and placed an arm around me as we walked onwards:
As Mol Lang spoke, I caught glimpses of the entire picture, both earthly and heavenly. Something that struck me with particular pain was the realization that this gentle soul, who believed he lived for his daughter, actually didn't have her with him at all. Instead, he had only the image of her that he had created in his mind. I hadn't considered before that even on Earth, we don't truly have our friends, but only our perceptions of them. Our supposed friend might actually be our secret enemy, but if we're unaware of this, we remain blissfully ignorant. Mol Lang noticed my reaction and, as we continued walking, put his arm around me and said:
"Phylos, beloved son, feel not so! When the day cometh when this lady shall enter the devachanic life, then whenever and wherever she has ideals and concepts like those of her father, or he like hers, then will they two be really together, 'two souls with but a single thought.' It is the same on earth; only identity of thought makes nearness of souls. As the grand march of souls following after Christ draw nearer unto God, those planes where all souls are together in the thought and concept will be the planes mainly occupied by humanity, till at the glorious last, none shall be apart from any other, or from the Father."
"Phylos, my dear son, don't feel that way! When the time comes for this lady to enter the afterlife, whenever and wherever she shares ideals and thoughts with her father, or he with her, they will truly be together, 'two souls with but a single thought.' It's the same on Earth; only shared thoughts bring souls closer. As humanity progresses spiritually, following Christ's teachings and drawing nearer to God, people will mainly exist on planes where all souls share thoughts and understanding. In the end, no one will be separated from others or from God."
The room and its earnest worker had faded from view. Instead of it we found that in front of us was a monastic edifice, set on a lofty mountain peak which arose from a lake. Dim vistas of water, of wooded shores and silvery, shadowy isles were in perspective, Over the tower which rose from the monastery was a flashing crescent of purple light. I asked what place we were now come to. The answer was:
The room and its earnest worker had faded from view. In its place, we found a monastery in front of us, set on a lofty mountain peak that rose from a lake. Dim views of water, of wooded shores and silvery, shadowy islands stretched into the distance. Over the tower that rose from the monastery was a flashing crescent of purple light. I asked what place we had now come to. The answer was:
"The Lunar Temple, a part of devachan, but having nothing to do with the moon. Here, where many occult students come after laying aside the earthly body, is a holy place of rest. Here are many theosophic adepts and neophytes; they saw then with eyes of spirit, hence had then, as now, much the same concepts of life; devachan to them is not, therefore, on the same plane as with other mortals, any more than their objective life was. Here Semla takes leave of us, to appear no more on earth until after fifty centuries of mundane time. He will then incarnate, not as a Tchin, but as a member of the American Nation of that far distant day, because his life has been mostly spent in that land this time. But now he enters into rest he has earned; this is his devachan."
"The Lunar Temple. It is a part of devachan, but has nothing to do with the moon. Here, where many occult students come after laying aside the earthly body, is a holy place of rest. Here are many theosophic adepts and neophytes. In life they saw with the eyes of spirit, and so they had then, as now, much the same concepts of life. So devachan is not on the same plane for them as for other mortals, any more than their objective life was. Here Semla takes leave of us. He will not appear on earth again until after fifty centuries of earthly time. He will then incarnate, not as a Tchin, but as a member of the American Nation of that far distant day, because he has spent most of his life in that land this time. But now he enters the rest he has earned. This is his devachan."
There, under the flashing purple light from the monastic tower, Semla took his leave, invoking upon us the peace of the Father.
There, beneath the pulsing violet beacon atop the monastery's tower, Semla bid us farewell, blessing us with the Father's peace.
Through ability conferred by Mol Lang, I had seen the nature of the life after death. For a few moments my soul was able to compare the newly gained knowledge with my old time ideals of nature. I thought, "If all this is but a dream, what is a dream? If this which seems real matter is not such--"
Through the power granted by Mol Lang, I had glimpsed the nature of life after death. For a brief moment, my soul could compare this newfound knowledge with my old beliefs about the natural world. I wondered, "If all this is just a dream, what exactly is a dream? If what seems to be solid matter isn't really that at all..."
"Nay, my son," interjected Mol Lang, as I thought upon the nature of matter, "this is real matter. Why, what is matter, dost thou think? Matter is a One Substantiality, having not a single quality which any human sense can cognize. But force also is one of the creations of the Father. And force hath two polarities, the positive and the negative, absolute opposites. Now man on earth hath certain senses; seven are these senses: sight, hearing, feeling, smelling, tasting, intuition, and one innominate. These last are not yet evolved, for the fullness of days is not come; the Fifth Day is; but the Sixth and the Seventh are not. With the last, man becometh greater than he hath ever been. Only they that have ears that hear shall solve this saying. Five senses cognize the positive dynamic affections of matter by Force, and behold, man senseth the earth and some of the stellar bodies. But all these are of the positive, and hence are in the Father's Mansion of Cause. These five senses are what the Apostle Paul called the 'Natural mind.' But 'In my Father's house are many mansions.' And this, which is the briefer life after the grave, is His Mansion of effects, and it is the result of matter affected by negative force. Here the first five senses call all things pertaining to devachan 'mere dreams'; even wise Hamlet asks, 'What dreams may come?' But I say unto thee, both earth (cause) and devachan (effect) are material; both due in their every phenomena to force, but either state is cognizable only by senses special to it. Man in one hath five special senses, and these know the earth, but call heaven a dream; and Man in the other hath other seven special senses, and these know of devachan, but call earth a dream. Yet both states are really material, and similarly, both are unreal except to the Father. So Man is constantly dying from the one state and being born in the other, back and forth, and only that state where he is is real to him at any time. Myriad times does he repeat the process, incarnifying and discarnifying, and each time of rebirth on the earth finds him ever on a higher plane, until at last the concrete condition miscalled life is over, and the conditionless 'long devachan' (Nirvana) is attained. Then man and his Father are together and at-one. Man came from God; unto Him must he go. But only a few have done this as yet, and of these Jesus Christ of Beth-le-hem is so far the only One who can truly say, 'I and my Father are one.'" Mol Lang had no desire that I should continuously retain the memories of the experiences just passed through; the separate facts were to become quite as unknown as if never observed. All was solely for the purpose of surrounding my soul with influences calculated to force me upward and onward, out of earth life, or desire for it, until at last I would come to realize that I had known something higher, and must return to the plane of the spiritual nature. Yes, the word is MUST.
"No, my son," Mol Lang broke in, as I thought about the nature of matter, "this is real matter. Why, what do you think matter is? Matter is a One Substantiality, having not a single quality that any human sense can perceive. But force also is one of the creations of the Father. And force has two polarities, the positive and the negative, absolute opposites. Now man on earth has certain senses. These senses are seven: sight, hearing, feeling, smelling, tasting, intuition, and one that is unnamed. These last are not yet evolved, for the fullness of days has not come. The Fifth Day is here, but the Sixth and the Seventh are not. With the last, man becomes greater than he has ever been. Only those who have ears that hear will solve this saying. "Five senses perceive the positive dynamic effects of Force on matter, and so man senses the earth and some of the stars. But all these are of the positive, and so are in the Father's Mansion of Cause. These five senses are what the Apostle Paul called the 'Natural mind.' But 'In my Father's house are many mansions.' And this, the shorter life after the grave, is his Mansion of effects. It is the result of matter affected by negative force. Here the first five senses call everything that belongs to devachan 'mere dreams.' Even wise Hamlet asks, 'What dreams may come?' But I tell you, both earth (cause) and devachan (effect) are material. Every phenomenon in both is due to force, but each state can be perceived only by the senses special to it. Man in the one has five special senses, and these know the earth, but call heaven a dream. Man in the other has seven other special senses, and these know devachan, but call earth a dream. Yet both states are really material, and likewise both are unreal except to the Father. "So Man is constantly dying out of the one state and being born into the other, back and forth. Only the state he is in is real to him at any time. He repeats the process countless times, incarnating and discarnating. Each rebirth on earth finds him on a higher plane, until at last the concrete condition wrongly called life is over. Then the conditionless 'long devachan' (Nirvana) is attained. Then man and his Father are together and at one. Man came from God, and he must go back to God. But only a few have done this as yet, and of these Jesus Christ of Beth-le-hem is so far the only One who can truly say, 'I and my Father are one.'" Mol Lang did not want me to keep the memories of these experiences permanently. The separate facts were to become as unknown to me as if I had never observed them. All of it was solely meant to surround my soul with influences that would force me upward and onward, out of earth life, or the desire for it. At last I would come to realize that I had known something higher, and must return to the plane of the spiritual nature. Yes, the word is MUST.
After leaving Semla, with the new life open to him, Mol Lang and myself sought the lake, and after taking our seats on a bit of sandy shore, I asked questions as to the appearance of the scheme of creation to occult perceptions. It seemed to me that life must have a wider significance to him than to me.
After departing Semla and embracing the new opportunities before him, Mol Lang and I made our way to the lake. We settled on a small sandy beach, where I began to inquire about how the grand design of creation appears to those with occult insights. I felt certain that life must hold a broader meaning for him than it did for me.
"Phylos, it hath. Grand as the vision of life seemeth to the ordinary man, made up, as it is, of his few years on earth supposedly followed by unending existence in heaven, to me it is infinitely more sublime than even earth's loftiest vision can present it! Man's ideas are full of error; they involve the childishness of admitting that in the life on earth the multitudes who 'make in their dwellings a transient abode' are in the course of such a finite time, able to set in motion infinite causes which shall be carried out in psychic effects eternally. Only through the Great Master are any so able.
"Phylos, it has. While the average person's view of life seems grand—a brief time on Earth followed by eternal existence in heaven—to me it's infinitely more sublime than even the loftiest earthly vision can present! People's ideas are riddled with errors. They childishly assume that during their short stay on Earth, the masses can set in motion infinite causes that will have eternal psychic effects. Only through the Great Master can anyone truly achieve this."
"I have so willed, my son, that the features of this visit to devachan shall be withdrawn from thee, and thou wilt remember them only as a vague, delightful dream, which shall have influence in leading thee to the pinnacles of the Father and the summits of the soul. It is easy to erase these memories; I have but to disassociate the astral body here formed by thine experiences, and thou wilt thereafter know this state only when that astral shall control thee as its medium. I will take thee to mine own home in Hesper, and there thou wilt come to know my son, whose name is Sohma, and my daughter Phyris. Yet that knowledge also will I dissociate, after the time of it, and thou wilt forget it all; yea, even me wilt thou forget, and know only through the same mediumship, because thy karma orders for thee long years yet to come on earth, and atonement for evil works which have cried unto God for redress, lo! a century of centuries, and longer. Christ hath said: 'One jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law till all be fulfilled.' Save thou be re-leased to Him.
"I have willed it, my son, that the details of this visit to devachan shall be taken from you. You will remember them only as a vague, delightful dream. That dream will help lead you to the heights of the Father and the summits of the soul. It is easy to erase these memories. I have only to separate off the astral body formed here by your experiences. After that you will know this state only when that astral controls you as its medium. "I will take you to my own home in Hesper, and there you will come to know my son, whose name is Sohma, and my daughter Phyris. Yet I will separate that knowledge also, after its time, and you will forget it all. Yes, you will forget even me, and know me only through the same mediumship. For your karma orders long years still to come for you on earth. It orders atonement, lo! for a century of centuries, and longer, for evil works that have cried out to God for redress. Christ has said: 'One jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law till all be fulfilled.' Unless you are released to him.
"But thou hast asked a question. Hear the answer: I sow a seed, and it shall grow, and blossom and fruit, and though the sower be forgotten, the plant will not be. Thou wilt remember my words forever, nor forget them for one hour, for such is my will, yet forget me wholly.
"You've asked a question. Here's the answer: I plant a seed, and it will grow, bloom, and bear fruit. Even if the one who planted it is forgotten, the plant will live on. You'll remember my words forever, never forgetting them for even an hour, because that's what I intend. Yet, you'll completely forget me."
"Besides the heavenly world, there are many more which are imperceptible to men. Yet matter and force compose them all. Many of them are worlds of Cause, but no merely human being is in them, nor can any earthly sense cognize them or know of them. They are peopled, but by beings of whom some are good, and some are evil; in the sight of the Eternal Cause, relatively good or evil. That which exists under laws inimical to man is evil to man, though not in itself evil. But these 'mansions' are set apart from one another that they may not interfere. There is that which is astray, but in itself not evil, for in all the creation there is no evil eternal, for God is perfect.
"Besides the heavenly world, there are many more worlds that men cannot perceive. Yet matter and force make up them all. Many of them are worlds of Cause, but no merely human being is in them, nor can any earthly sense perceive them or know of them. They are peopled, but by beings of whom some are good and some are evil, relatively good or evil in the sight of the Eternal Cause. That which exists under laws hostile to man is evil to man, though not evil in itself. But these 'mansions' are set apart from one another so that they may not interfere. There is that which is astray, but not evil in itself, for in all creation there is no eternal evil, for God is perfect.
"The worlds of human life are seven in number; yet four of them are invisible, unknowable to earthly senses, and this not because of remoteness, but the kind of force-affection of their constituent matter. Mankind occupies but one planet at a time, for like its present dwelling place (earth) the human race is but a letter in the Divine Library of Being. To be exact, the more advanced, occult souls do inhabit Venus, which I have called Hesper, and which was by the ancients of the Earth termed 'The Garden of the Hesperides.'
There are seven realms of human existence, but four of them remain invisible and beyond our earthly senses. This isn't due to their distance, but because of the unique properties of their matter. Humanity occupies only one planet at a time, as our species is just a single entry in the vast cosmic catalog of life. To be precise, more spiritually advanced souls do inhabit Venus, which I've called Hesper. Ancient Earth cultures referred to this planet as "The Garden of the Hesperides."
"Yes, Phylos, life does mean more to me than to thee. I look at its stately march, and I see the battalion of being wherein I am but a corporal, progressing around its appointed seven spheres, whereof only Mars, the Earth and Venus are matters which terrene perception can know; I see the human race progressively incarnating on each of its peculiar planets as it goes, every individual ego about eight hundred times, approximately, on each world each time the race comes to it, which is seven times also, making forty-nine world-carnate epochs. Each ego thus hath incarnation and discarnation periods to the number, more or less, of forty thousand. It is in these, that beginning as an irresponsible creation, far from human, as thou wouldst define the word 'human,' and ending as a Perfect Man entering into Nirvanic rest, that the scheme of the Eternal Uncreated Father is perfected. Yea, verily, man sins, but as his incarnations progress, he atones for every jot, every tittle. Karma is penalty for evil doing, and it is the law of God; it knows no abatement of payment, accepts no vicarious price, but is faithful gaoler over that prison which is life-action; whoso is cast therein shall not come out till every farthing is paid. Beware, then, of doing wrong, for thou must bear the penalty, only thou. Verily, life is long enough to make payment; 'tis better to have none to make!
Life means more to me than to you, Phylos. I see existence as a grand procession, where I'm just a small part of a much larger force. This force progresses through seven realms, of which we can only perceive Mars, Earth, and Venus. Each person reincarnates about 800 times on each world, visiting each world seven times. This totals roughly 49 world-incarnation periods, or about 40,000 individual lives. Through these cycles, we evolve from simple, non-human beings to Perfect Men entering Nirvana, fulfilling the Eternal Father's plan. We sin, but as we progress, we atone for every transgression. Karma is the divine law that punishes wrongdoing. It demands full payment without exception or substitute. It's the jailer of life-action, and one can't escape until the debt is fully paid. So, be cautious about wrongdoing—you alone must bear the consequences. Life is long enough to settle all debts, but it's better to have none at all!
See note on page 236.
"We go now to a view of the truth that the spirit came from the Father, and returneth to Him after it hath fulfilled the law and the prophets; it liveth in the worlds of cause a short span, but in those of effect a long span, for passivity is to activity as about eighty to one, and the lives are many, strung like beads on the one cord of the individual ego.
Now let's consider the idea that the spirit originates from the Father and returns to Him after fulfilling its purpose in accordance with divine law and prophecy. It exists briefly in the realm of cause, but for a much longer time in the realm of effect. The ratio of passive to active states is roughly 80 to 1. Our many lives are like beads strung along the single thread of our individual consciousness.
"Lastly, the ego coming from the Father hath no sex; it is not man, neither woman, but sexless. When it entereth upon life it becometh double, so that in the earth there is a man, and there is a woman, and though the bodies and the animal souls and the human souls be different in the twain, yet behold, their spirit is one and the same. Now sometimes the two, being of one spirit, are also husband and wife. Yet more often, they are not, for the age of harmony is not yet at hand. But it is of such singleness of spirit that the Bible saith, 'What God hath joined, let no man put asunder.' There is no man who could, if he would, so sunder. But that saying is not of the carnal marriage, but of the spirit unit only. And the latter hath no lust. But when the twain shall, after the millions of years which lie between the non-esoteric Christian and Nirvana, come to know all the law of life, then will the union be as it was before the separation. Thou canst not really comprehend the truth now, but when thou shalt at last be done with earth life, thou wilt then recall it and know. And knowing it, thou wilt then tell the world of it. But not now. Now is this true: Mates in the Lord can not know each other as such, until they both will to live after the rule of His Highway. And the latter hath nothing carnal. 'Straight is the Gate and narrow is the Way that leadeth unto Life, and few there be that find it.' Until they find it they find not each other; neither release from incarnation in the flesh."
Lastly, the soul from the Divine has no gender; it's neither male nor female, but genderless. When it enters life, it becomes dual, resulting in a man and a woman on Earth. Although their bodies and souls differ, their spirit is one and the same. Sometimes these two, sharing one spirit, are husband and wife. More often, they are not, as the age of harmony has not yet arrived. This spiritual unity is what the Bible refers to when it says, "What God has joined, let no man separate." No one could separate such a bond even if they tried. This saying doesn't refer to physical marriage, but to spiritual union, which has no lust. After millions of years between the average Christian understanding and spiritual enlightenment, when the two come to fully understand the law of life, their union will be as it was before separation. You can't fully grasp this truth now, but when you've finished your earthly life, you'll remember and understand it. Then, you'll share this knowledge with the world, but not yet. For now, this is true: Spiritual partners can't recognize each other as such until they both choose to live by His way, which has nothing to do with physical desires. "Narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it." Until they find it, they won't find each other, nor will they be released from reincarnation in physical form.
Mol Lang arose after this long discourse, wherein he had briefly described the works of God. He said:
Mol Lang stood up after finishing his lengthy speech, in which he had concisely explained God's creations. He then said:
"I have answered thee. Come, let us go hence, and thou shalt know my son, and my daughter, and my home."
"I've given you my answer. Come, let's leave now. You'll meet my son, my daughter, and see my home."
He laid his hand upon my brow, and I seemed to sleep; when I was again conscious we were in an immense garden, and before us I saw a house which at once impressed me as being a real home. This I say because somehow occult study had seemed foreign to home life and influences. How entirely compatible the two are will appear nearer the end of this history.
He placed his hand on my forehead, and I drifted off. When I came to, we were in a vast garden. Before us stood a house that instantly struck me as a true home. I mention this because I had always thought occult studies were incompatible with domestic life. How well these two actually blend will become clear later in this account.
I found on acquaintance with it that it bore out my first impressions perfectly, for it was the most genuine home that could well exist, and typified all human life in this world of Cause, Hesper. It was a home of human glorified beings, of occult students incarnate in exalted causal life.
Upon getting to know it better, I found that my initial impressions were spot-on. It was the most authentic home imaginable, embodying all aspects of human existence in this world of Cause, Hesper. It served as a dwelling for glorified human beings, advanced occult students living in an elevated state of causal life.
Do you ask me how any portion of the human race came to be so far in the van as the Hesperian contingent? The answer is that their septune natures had been so far perfected by the trials to which the study of occult adeptism subjects its initiates, that they had become enlightened, responsible beings; they had drunk of the cup concerning which Jesus inquired of the children of Zebedee if they had the ability to drink it. and in consequence there had come to them the keys to that realm of spirit which no natural mind can understand. They had learned the sevenfold character of their natures, that man is a composite being, having seven principles, viz. the I AM, or ego; the body of the spirit, or spirit-body; the human soul; the animal soul; the astral reflection of the two lowest principles, by name, vital force and the earthly body thereby animated. Thus far, I regret to say, the mass of mankind is not developed much beyond its animal soul; a minority have the human soul shining forth; but only occult adepts have the Sixth or spirit-body developed, while none of whom the world knows except Jesus and Buddha are perfect in the Spirit of the Father.
Do you ask me how any part of the human race came to be so far in the lead as the Hesperian group? The answer is that their sevenfold natures had been so far perfected by the trials that the study of occult adeptship puts its initiates through, that they had become enlightened, responsible beings. They had drunk of the cup that Jesus asked the children of Zebedee if they were able to drink. As a result the keys had come to them to that realm of spirit which no natural mind can understand. They had learned the sevenfold character of their natures: that man is a composite being with seven principles. These are the I AM, or ego; the body of the spirit, or spirit-body; the human soul; the animal soul; the astral reflection of the two lowest principles; and those two, namely vital force and the earthly body it animates. So far, I regret to say, the mass of mankind is not developed much beyond its animal soul. A minority have the human soul shining forth. But only occult adepts have the Sixth, or spirit-body, developed, while none whom the world knows of, except Jesus and Buddha, are perfect in the Spirit of the Father.
With Mol Lang I stood, looking upon his home in Venus, the world to which Terre's children will come, leaving it deserted until another round shall return them, although on a higher plane, that of perfect love, "the greatest thing in the world." But now Hesper is the planet of this Christlike love, its home in the course of nature and man's development. Ye will not all come, alas!
I stood with Mol Lang, gazing at his home on Venus, the world that Earth's children will eventually inhabit, leaving Earth empty until the cycle begins anew. When they return, it will be on a higher plane of existence, that of perfect love—"the greatest thing in the world." For now, though, Venus is the planet where this Christlike love naturally resides as humanity evolves. Sadly, not all of you will make this journey.
"Phylos," said Mol Lang, "my son is of nearly thine own number of years; my daughter Phyris is of the same age as thyself. Both will tell thee of occult truths, as I have done, yet they nor I, nor aught but the intuitions from thine own Godgiven Spirit can teach thee. If a soul hath not in itself perception of God and His works, no man can teach it, for having ears to hear and eyes to see, he heareth and seeth, but comprehendeth not. To me it is given of God to show thee and tell thee of those things which many prophets and righteous men have desired to see and to hear, but have not. Blessed are thine eyes, for they see, and thine cars, for they hear. Yet, nevertheless, thou wilt go again to earth and wilt forget, and restlessly long for a better state, yet shalt not find it again for long years. O Phylos, my son, would that thou couldst even now know! But karma pursueth thee, seeking repayment. And karma shalt have its dues, and thou wilt then go free. Let us pray unto God now, for I speak no more of these things; I have spoken already. Hereafter Phyris shall tell thee and show thee in my place."
"Phylos," Mol Lang said, "my son is about your age, and my daughter Phyris is exactly your age. Both will teach you about hidden truths, as I have, but neither they nor I, nor anything but your own God-given intuition can truly educate you. If a person doesn't have an innate understanding of God and His works, no one can teach them. They may have ears and eyes, but they won't truly comprehend. God has allowed me to show and tell you things that many prophets and righteous people have longed to experience but couldn't. You're fortunate that you can see and hear these things. However, you'll return to Earth and forget, restlessly yearning for a better place, but you won't find it again for many years. Oh Phylos, my son, I wish you could understand now! But karma pursues you, seeking repayment. It will have its due, and then you'll be free. Let's pray to God now, for I won't speak more on these matters; I've said enough. From now on, Phyris will teach and show you in my place."
Then, in that Hesperian garden, we knelt together, and Mol Lang repeated that eloquent voice of the ages, so old, yet ever new, the prayer of our Savior. I think tears were in our eyes when we arose. Turning, I beheld a lovely woman.
Then, in that Hesperian garden, we knelt together, and Mol Lang repeated that eloquent voice of the ages, so old, yet always new: the prayer of our Savior. I think there were tears in our eyes when we rose. Turning, I saw a lovely woman.
"Phyris, my child, he is come! Phylos, this is my daughter, of whom I told thee."
"Phyris, my dear, he's here! Phylos, this is my daughter, whom I mentioned to you earlier."
It had so surprised me to hear a man who had so much of what untaught fancy calls Godlike power speak of his children, that Mol Lang had said to me in comment:
The fact that a man with such immense, seemingly divine power spoke about having children caught me completely off guard. Noticing my reaction, Mol Lang commented:
"Phylos, thinkest thou that because I have wisdom which thou bast conceived only God to possess, that I am not human? My son, I am more wholly and truly human because thus near unto God. But the mass of people on earth are not fully developed even yet in the human principle; their lives, actions, passions, are centered in the Fourth or animal soul, and only the more exalted are come to the development of the human within them. When mankind shall come fully into its humanity, then Earth can no more be its planet; they must come here. Bear in mind ever, that all thou seest in Hesper is but human, and so thou wilt know more of what Man is, how glorious a being he is. Man is only partially human, and not filled with the Father, nor come into his Spirit body, and he must therefore marry and live in marriage, else the race would cease to reincarnate. Each ego must pay its debts. But many will die debtors to Him."
"Phylos, do you think that because I possess wisdom you once thought only God could have, that I'm not human? My son, I'm more fully and truly human because I'm closer to God. Most people on Earth are not yet fully developed in their human nature; their lives, actions, and passions are rooted in their animal instincts, and only the most evolved have begun to develop their human essence. When humanity fully embraces its human potential, Earth will no longer be suitable for them; they must come here. Always remember that everything you see in Hesper is human, and this will help you understand what Man truly is, how magnificent a being he is. Currently, Man is only partially human, not yet filled with the Father's essence or evolved into his Spirit body. Therefore, he must marry and live in marriage, or else the race would cease to reincarnate. Each soul must pay its debts. But many will die as debtors to Him."
We three, father, daughter, and myself, went into one of the wide porticos of the brown Parthenon like mansion, and sat down, being where we could see over the profusion of flowers in the great gardens. So beautiful was the scene, both near and far, that I was content thus to remain, unmoving. Here was no devachan, no scene of effects, but an active life in a world of cause.
We three, father, daughter, and I, went into one of the wide porticos of the brown, Parthenon-like mansion and sat down. From there we could see over the abundance of flowers in the great gardens. The scene was so beautiful, both near and far, that I was content to stay as I was, without moving. Here was no devachan, no scene of effects, but an active life in a world of cause.
This life differed from that upon earth in being broader, more perfect, more glorious than terrene conditions can produce in the present round. Ordinary life in Hesperus is all that the highest form of life can be on earth; and thus has all the wonderful development which exists in the midst of the secret occult brotherhoods of Earth. It is impossible to express adequately what perfection of physical life exists in Hesperus. But it is a perfection of the physical nature, amid ideal surroundings, all of which prepare the animal man to work for the human man, and he for the Spirit man, the I AM, or ego. Thus does the ego progress through matter. Is it not a sublime thought that reincarnation does not mean transmigration of souls? The first leads man ever up; the other, which is false, even in theory, merely a perverted notion of the first, might mean progress, but more often would mean retrogression, and in all this Universe there is no retrogression. Reincarnation is but a chance to expiate the errors of life, chiefest of which is not overcoming and containing self. Will ye not pay? Then are ye doomed!
This life differed from life on earth in being broader, more perfect, and more glorious than earthly conditions can produce in the present round. Ordinary life on Hesperus is all that the highest form of life can be on earth. So it has all the wonderful development that exists among the secret occult brotherhoods of Earth. It is impossible to express fully what perfection of physical life exists on Hesperus. But it is a perfection of the physical nature, amid ideal surroundings. All of it prepares the animal man to work for the human man, and the human man for the Spirit man, the I AM, or ego. This is how the ego progresses through matter. Is it not a sublime thought that reincarnation does not mean the transmigration of souls? The first always leads man upward. The other is false, even in theory, merely a perverted notion of the first. It might mean progress, but more often would mean going backward, and in all this Universe there is no going backward. Reincarnation is simply a chance to atone for the errors of life. The chief of these is failing to overcome and contain self. Will you not pay? Then you are doomed!