"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's consider this man's situation. He's an inventor from a world of possibilities, surrounded by evidence of his creative visions, which now seem real to him. On Earth, he imagined crowds of people using his innovations in mechanics and natural forces. He envisioned free public transport, where no one who couldn't afford it had to pay. He designed coins, minted at no cost to the public by his own mint (which he'd always wanted to own on Earth to fix systemic issues). This extended to everything else he'd hoped to make a reality on Earth. Though he died before seeing these dreams come true, in this new realm of consequences, it all appears factual—but only to him. Let's walk across this plain to the grove about 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 a while, we walked in silence, each of us taking in the beautiful scenery. Bubbling streams flowed through flower-filled meadows, while groves dotted the landscape. In the distance, a line of blue hills stretched across the horizon. When we reached the grove Mol Lang had mentioned, I realized we were at a station. Strange-looking vehicles stood on a network of tracks, with people coming and going in all directions. The cars had enormous spider-like wheels, several yards across. A light metal staircase led to the top of a tower, which also housed an elevator. Some people walked up, while others were lifted to the top. About twenty feet above the ground, passengers stepped into the car's body. An engineer then operated the machinery, causing the massive wheels to spin faster and faster. Soon, the lightweight vehicle could be seen moving at incredible speed across the countryside, easily handling hills and curves alike.
"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: Champion of the People"
"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 encountered this gentleman in a grand setting filled with beautiful, yet mechanical, devices. Everything seemed designed to systematize knowledge and serve practical purposes. While a machinist's paradise, I found it tiring. The sheer number of people was astonishing. Mol Lang explained that not all were Fowler's imaginary creations; some were real individuals like us, while most were disembodied souls sharing Fowler's inventive mindset. Fowler was clearly in charge here, surrounded by like-minded individuals. When I inquired about the Falls' location, Fowler mentioned that an author friend of his lived there, enjoying a massive pipe organ Fowler had built. "I made it myself!" he boasted. "Everyone benefits from my work and recognizes me as the most important and greatest person alive!"
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 person is processing their experiences of a life without spiritual guidance. Once they've fully absorbed these lessons, they'll be reborn on Earth. From childhood, their dominant traits will be self-importance and vanity. In their previous life, they planted the seeds for this future self. Here, they witness the growth of those seeds. The harvest will mature here too, and once complete, they'll take it back to Earth to replant. You might wonder about the value in perpetuating such conceit. First, it's God's law. Second, their future egotism will foster self-confidence. They have a strong spiritual nature and well-balanced, robust physical qualities. The positive aspect of their conceit will manifest in their next life as an ability to lead others to progress. Before they died, they were shy and introverted, feeling underappreciated. In their next life, they'll emerge as a strong-willed individual, capable of guiding others towards personal growth and enlightenment.
"Truly," I said, "all things under the hand of God work together for good!"
"Honestly," I said, "everything happens for a reason under God's guidance!"
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 existed in the dream-like realm of a beloved author known for his optimistic and imaginative writing. His popularity stemmed from his focus on nature's grandeur and life's noble aspects. In this heavenly space, he lived within his own stories, surrounded by the characters, emotions, and vivid imagery that moved his readers to tears. For him, these once-imaginary elements had become real, fulfilling his deepest desires. He experienced this seeming reality without realizing it was a dream. Some might question the value of such an experience, but these imaginative creations foster a profound spirituality and empathy. These qualities will soon bring about a universal human brotherhood, emerging with the new century. This fellowship will be free from creeds and limitations, asking only for unwavering aspiration and action from its members. And this author, who has dwelt in his soul's home for centuries, will return as one of its prophets, reincarnated to guide humanity.
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 discovered the Falls in an immense gorge, as deep as the Royal Gorge of the Arkansas River. It connected two stunning lakes, rivaling the beauty of Scottish lakes or Lake Champlain, though each was as vast as Nyanza. The river formed two magnificent falls over a half-mile-high cliff, each shaped like a horseshoe and more than a mile wide. An island separated the falls where the middle points of the two curves met. Three tall, conical rock needles rose over a thousand feet from this cliff. Each had a spiral stairway carved into the granite, with suspension bridges connecting their peaks. Two more suspension bridges, supported by miles-long cables, stretched diagonally from the falls to both shores. I realized that an engineer like Merton Fowler wouldn't have designed such bridges, knowing the cables would break under their own weight. But the author, not being an engineer, saw no such obstacle. In his imagination, the concept existed without limitations. Since we were experiencing his mental plane through his senses, we perceived these impossible structures as real. They were subjectively real to all in his realm, though invisible to earthly eyes that only see objective realities. Both states are real, but only to those on their respective planes. The spiritual seems foolish to the natural man, just as the natural world is to the devachanee. The author's imagined multitudes used his bridge, living in his created utopia—a veritable heaven. This nurtured his spirituality, reverence for God, and sense of the sublime. His soul has nearly assimilated these "steps toward God," readying it to reincarnate as a deeply artistic, constructive, and reverential earthly leader—one who turns toward God. Isn't he working for the Father? "By their works ye shall know them." As he leads, he'll draw ever closer to God and Nirvana, that glorious respite between lives. From there, the human spirit will awaken to find itself more than human—perhaps as one of those sublime World-Spirits whose glittering forms fill the night sky, or serving the Father in some other ineffable way.
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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 connection between life after death and before birth is clear: our time in the afterlife is spent processing the results of our earthly actions. This period shapes our character, transforming these effects into causes for our next life on Earth. These influences don't manifest as isolated events, but as personality traits that guide our decisions. Like attracts like. When parents experience certain influences at crucial moments, a soul ready for rebirth will be drawn to those who resemble it at that specific time. This similarity may be temporary, but it's enough if there's a harmonious connection at that moment. There are no accidents in the universe; everything follows immutable laws of cause and effect. Child prodigies like Zerah Colburn in mathematics and Mozart in music didn't inherit their talents from their parents. While Mozart's mother's love for music may have created an attractive mental environment, it doesn't fully explain his genius. Atavism, the reappearance of ancestral traits, has been suggested to explain these cases of childhood brilliance when parents lack similar abilities. However, this explanation is incomplete. Heredity is complex; parents are influenced by specific factors, and children are souls drawn to those who match their mental state. If Zailm Numinos had included it in his history of Atl, he might have told you that Colburn was a renowned Atlantean mathematician. Similarly, Mozart was Aleman, the poet and lyricist of ancient Sparta.
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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 entered a spacious veranda of an impressive house, combining various architectural styles into a comfortable whole. Unlike typical Japanese homes, we found easy chairs instead of mats or rugs, and sat down at Mol Lang's invitation. Soon, a server in Japanese attire appeared, setting a table for five. An elegant older man and a young woman, presumably his daughter, emerged from the house and greeted us cordially. Mol Lang later explained that this man was the central figure around whom everything in this place revolved. The lake, tropical plants, and the reimagined Japanese people we encountered were all manifestations of this man's ideals. He saw his dreams of a peaceful, carefree, and welcoming life realized here, and because he perceived them, so did we. Mol Lang had connected our perceptions to this man's spiritual plane. We joined him for a generous meal. There were no alcoholic beverages, as the man was a teetotaler, and none could be found in this entire spiritual realm. Naturally, the people he believed he saw, whether imagined or real individuals in harmony with his mindset, also abstained from alcohol. The man was unaware of this, much like how a dreamer doesn't realize during sleep that their vivid dream characters and settings exist only for them. Sometimes, however, a dreamer may genuinely travel with another compatible soul on a psychic journey—not a dream, but a real experience.
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."
Finally, Mol Lang announced, "My friends, it's time to move on. Other matters require our attention. We can only spare a few hours here. Let's go to where this man's daughter truly 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."
That which always comes from everything. "Man is never content, but always seeking happiness" is entirely true. Our heaven isn't made from hopes we fulfill in life, but from our deepest unfulfilled desires, longings, aspirations, and goals. The happiest afterlife belongs to those whose lofty ambitions were limited to glimpsing their dreams from afar. Let no disappointed soul mourn unfulfilled desires, for we can't truly judge our own productivity. Times we thought wasted often prove fruitful later, revealing accomplishments and new beginnings. These seeds of aspiration will flourish in the afterlife, if we allow them to grow according to a higher plan.
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."
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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 diligent occupant had vanished. In their place, we saw a monastery perched atop a towering mountain peak, rising from a lake below. In the distance, we could make out hazy views of water, forested shorelines, and shadowy islands with a silvery sheen. Above the monastery's tower, a purple crescent of light pulsed brightly. I inquired about our current location.
"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, part of the afterlife realm, has no connection to the moon. It's a sacred resting place where many spiritual seekers go after death. Here, you'll find experienced practitioners and beginners of theosophy. In life, they perceived the world through spiritual eyes, so their understanding of existence differs from the average person. Their experience of the afterlife is unique, just as their earthly lives were. At this point, Semla bids us farewell. He won't return to Earth for 5,000 years. When he does, he'll be born into the American nation of that distant future, having spent most of his current life there. For now, he enters a well-deserved period of rest in his personal heaven.
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 interjected as I pondered the nature of matter, "this is real matter. Matter is a single substance, without qualities our human senses can detect. Force, also created by the Father, has two opposite polarities: positive and negative. Humans have seven senses: sight, hearing, touch, smell, taste, intuition, and one unnamed. The last two are not yet developed, as we're in the Fifth Day, not the Sixth or Seventh. With the final sense, humanity will reach new heights. Only those who truly listen will understand this. Five senses perceive matter's positive aspects through Force, allowing us to experience Earth and some celestial bodies. These are in the Father's Mansion of Cause, what Paul called the 'Natural mind.' But 'In my Father's house are many mansions.' This shorter afterlife is His Mansion of effects, resulting from matter affected by negative force. Here, our five senses consider all things in the afterlife as 'mere dreams.' Even Hamlet asks, 'What dreams may come?' But I tell you, both Earth (cause) and the afterlife (effect) are material, each perceived only by senses specific to it. Humans in one state have five special senses, knowing Earth but calling heaven a dream. In the other, they have seven different senses, knowing the afterlife but calling Earth a dream. Both are material, yet unreal except to the Father. Man constantly dies in one state and is reborn in the other, back and forth. Only his current state feels real to him. This process repeats countless times, with each earthly rebirth at a higher level, until the misnamed 'life' ends and the eternal afterlife (Nirvana) is reached. Then man and Father are united. Man came from God and must return to Him. So far, only Jesus Christ of Bethlehem can truly say, 'I and my Father are one.'" Mol Lang didn't want me to permanently remember these experiences; the details would become unknown as if never observed. This was all to surround my soul with influences pushing me upward and onward, beyond earthly life and desires, until I'd realize I had known something higher and MUST return to the spiritual plane.
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.
"My son, I have decided that the details of this visit to the spiritual realm will be hidden from you. You'll only remember them as a pleasant, hazy dream that will guide you towards spiritual enlightenment. Erasing these memories is simple; I need only separate the astral body formed by your experiences here. Afterwards, you'll only know this state when that astral body influences you as its medium. I'll take you to my home in Hesper, where you'll meet my son Sohma and my daughter Phyris. But I'll also erase that knowledge later, and you'll forget everything, even me. You'll only know through the same mediumship because your karma dictates many more years on Earth, atoning for past misdeeds that have long cried out for justice. As Christ said, 'Not the smallest letter or stroke shall pass from the Law until all is accomplished.' This applies unless you're freed 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.
Beyond our visible universe, countless other realms exist, imperceptible to humans. These worlds, like ours, are made of matter and energy. Many are causal realms, but no ordinary human can inhabit or perceive them with earthly senses. These realms have inhabitants, some benevolent and some malevolent, as judged by the Eternal Cause. What opposes human interests may be considered evil from our perspective, though not inherently so. These "mansions" are separated to prevent interference. Some elements may be misaligned but not intrinsically evil, as true evil cannot exist eternally in creation, 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! [*1]
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!
"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 wonder how a portion of humanity advanced so far ahead? The answer lies in their seven-fold natures, refined through the challenges of occult study. These individuals became enlightened and responsible, having metaphorically drunk from the cup Jesus spoke of to Zebedee's children. This granted them access to spiritual realms beyond ordinary comprehension. They understood the seven aspects of their nature: the I AM (ego), spirit-body, human soul, animal soul, astral reflection, vital force, and physical body. Unfortunately, most people haven't developed beyond their animal soul. A minority have awakened their human soul, while only occult adepts have cultivated their spirit-body. According to this view, only figures like Jesus and Buddha have fully realized 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.
In that beautiful western garden, we knelt side by side as Mol Lang recited the timeless and powerful Lord's Prayer. The words, though ancient, felt as relevant as ever. As we stood, our eyes misty with emotion, I turned and saw a stunning woman before us.
"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—entered one of the wide porches of the grand, Parthenon-like mansion and sat down. From there, we could see over the abundance of flowers in the vast gardens. The scene was so beautiful, both up close and in the distance, that I was happy to sit still and take it all in. This was no dreamlike afterlife or illusion, but a vibrant, real world full of action and consequence.
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!
Life on Hesperus is more advanced, perfect, and glorious than what Earth can currently produce. The ordinary existence there matches the highest forms of life on Earth, including the remarkable developments found in Earth's secret occult societies. It's challenging to fully convey the physical perfection on Hesperus. This ideal physical state and environment prepare the body to support the mind, which in turn supports the spirit—the true self or ego. This is how the ego evolves through matter. Reincarnation, a noble concept, doesn't involve the transmigration of souls. While reincarnation leads to constant advancement, transmigration—a misunderstood version of reincarnation—might sometimes lead to progress but often to regression. However, regression doesn't exist in the universe. Reincarnation offers a chance to atone for life's mistakes, the biggest being the failure to master oneself. If you refuse to pay this debt, you face dire consequences.
Footnotes
Footnotes
^311:1 See note page <page 236>.
[311:1] See note on page 236.