When my period of work in any place was finished, I used to return to the Twilight Land to rest in another large building which belonged to our brotherhood. It was somewhat like the other place in appearance only not quite so dark, nor so dismal, nor so bare, and in the little room which belonged to each there were such things as we had earned as the rewards of our labors. For instance, in my room, which was still somewhat bare-looking, I had one great treasure. This was a picture of my love. It seemed more like a reflection of her in a mirror than a mere painted image, for when I looked intently at her she would smile back at me in answer, as though her spirit was conscious of my gaze, and when I wished very much to know what she was doing, my picture would change and show me. This was regarded by all my companions as a great and wonderful privilege, and I was told it was as much the result of her love and constant thought for me as of my own efforts to improve. Since then I have been shown how this living image was thrown upon the light of the astral plane and then projected into its frame in my room, but I cannot explain it more fully in this book. Another gift from my darling was a white rose-bud, which I had in a small vase and which never seemed to fade or wither, but remained fresh and fragrant and ever an emblem of her love, so that I called her my white rose.
When my work in any location was done, I'd return to the Twilight Land to rest in another large building owned by our brotherhood. It was similar to the other place, but not as dark, gloomy, or bare. In our individual rooms, we kept rewards earned from our labors. In my somewhat sparse room, I had one great treasure: a picture of my love. It was more like a mirror reflection than a painting. When I looked at it intently, she'd smile back as if aware of my gaze. If I wanted to know what she was doing, the picture would change to show me. My companions saw this as a remarkable privilege, resulting from both her constant thoughts of me and my own efforts to improve. Another gift from my darling was a white rosebud in a small vase. It never faded or withered, remaining fresh and fragrant as a symbol of her love. I called her my white rose.
I had so longed for a flower. I had so loved flowers on earth and I had seen none since I saw those my darling put upon my grave. In this land there were no flowers, not even a leaf or blade of grass, not a tree or a shrub however stunted--for the dry arid soil of our selfishness had no blossom or green thing to give to any one of us; and it was when I told her this during one of the brief visits I used to pay her, and when through her own hand I was able to write short messages--it was, I say, when I told her that there was not one fair thing for me to look upon save only the picture of herself, that she asked that I might be given a flower from her, and this white rosebud was brought to my room by a spirit friend and left for me to find when I returned from earth and her. Ah! you who have so many flowers that you do not value them enough and leave them to wither unseen, you can scarce realize what joy this blossom brought to me nor how I have so treasured it and her picture and some loving words she once wrote to me, that I have carried them with me from sphere to sphere as I have risen, and shall, I hope, treasure them evermore.
I had longed for a flower, having loved them on earth and seen none since those placed on my grave. In this land, there were no plants - no flowers, leaves, grass, trees, or shrubs. The barren soil of our selfishness yielded nothing. When I told her this during one of my brief visits, communicating through her hand in short messages, she asked that I be given a flower. A spirit friend brought this white rosebud to my room. Those of you with abundant flowers may not fully appreciate the joy this single blossom brought me. I've treasured it, along with her picture and some loving words she wrote, carrying them with me as I've risen through the spheres. I hope to cherish them forever.
From this Twilight Land I took many journeys and saw many strange and different countries, but all bore the same stamp of coldness and desolation.
I explored many regions within this dreary realm, visiting various strange and unfamiliar territories. Despite their differences, they all shared the same bleak and desolate atmosphere.
One place was a great valley of grey stones, with dim, cold, grey hills shutting it in on every side, and this twilight sky overhead. Here again not a blade of grass, not one poor stunted shrub was to be seen, not one touch of color or brightness anywhere, only this dull desolation of grey stones. Those who dwelt in this valley had centered their lives and their affections in themselves and had shut up their hearts against all the warmth and beauty of unselfish love. They had lived only for themselves, their own gratification, their own ambitions, and now they saw nothing but themselves and the grey desolation of their hard selfish lives around them. There were a great many beings flitting uneasily about in this valley, but strange to say they had been so centered in themselves that they had lost the power to see anyone else.
A vast valley of grey stones lay before them, surrounded by dim, cold hills and covered by a twilight sky. Not a single blade of grass or stunted shrub could be seen, devoid of any color or brightness. This dull, desolate landscape mirrored the lives of those who dwelt there. The inhabitants had focused their lives and affections inward, closing their hearts to the warmth and beauty of selfless love. They had lived solely for themselves, their own pleasures, and ambitions. Now, they saw nothing but themselves and the bleak desolation of their self-centered lives reflected in their surroundings. Numerous beings flitted uneasily about the valley, but oddly, their intense self-absorption had robbed them of the ability to perceive anyone else.
These unhappy beings were invisible to each other until such time as the thought of another and the desire to do something for some one besides themselves should awaken, when they would become conscious of those near to them, and through their efforts to lighten another's lot they would improve their own, till at last their stunted affections would expand and the hazy valley of selfishness would hold them in its chains no more.
These unfortunate souls remained unaware of each other until they began to think of others and desire to help someone besides themselves. At that point, they would become conscious of those nearby. Through their efforts to ease another's burden, they would improve their own situation. Eventually, their stunted emotions would grow, freeing them from the fog of self-centeredness that had trapped them for so long.
Beyond this valley I came upon a great, dry, sandy-looking tract of country where there was a scanty straggling vegetation, and where the inhabitants had begun in some places to make small attempts at gardens near their habitations. In some places these habitations were clustered so thickly together that they formed small towns and cities. But all bore that desolate ugly look which came from the spiritual poverty of the inhabitants. This also was a land of selfishness and greed, although not of such complete indifference to others' feelings as in the grey valley, and therefore they sought for a certain amount of companionship even with those around them. Many had come from the grey valley, but most were direct from the earth life and were now, poor souls, struggling to rise a little higher, and wherever this was the case and an effort was made to overcome their own selfishness, then the dry soil around their homes would begin to put forth tiny blades of grass and little stunted shoots of shrubs.
Beyond this valley, I encountered a vast, arid region with sparse vegetation. Here, residents had begun small gardening efforts near their homes. In some areas, these dwellings were densely packed, forming small towns and cities. However, all bore a bleak, unattractive appearance, reflecting the spiritual poverty of the inhabitants. This land, while still marked by selfishness and greed, showed less indifference to others' feelings than the grey valley. As a result, people sought some companionship with those around them. Many had come from the grey valley, but most arrived directly from earthly life, now struggling to elevate themselves. Wherever individuals made efforts to overcome their selfishness, the barren soil around their homes would sprout tiny blades of grass and stunted shrubs, hinting at potential growth and improvement.
Such miserable hovels as were in this land! such ragged, repulsive, wretched-looking people, like tramps or beggars, yet many had been amongst earth's wealthiest and most eminent in fashionable life, and had enjoyed all that luxury could give! But because they had used their wealth only for themselves and their own enjoyments, giving to others but the paltry crumbs that they could spare from their own wealth and hardly notice that they had given them--because of this, I say, they were now here in this Twilight Land, poor as beggars in the true spiritual wealth of the soul which may be earned in the earthly life alike by the richest king or the poorest beggar, and without which those who come over to the spirit land--be they of earth's greatest or humblest--must come here to dwell where all are alike poor in spiritual things.
What a miserable place this was! The people looked like ragged, repulsive beggars, yet many had once been among the wealthiest and most fashionable on Earth, enjoying every luxury. They ended up here because they had used their wealth selfishly, giving others only the meager leftovers they could spare without noticing. As a result, they now lived in this Twilight Land, as poor as beggars in spiritual wealth – the true riches of the soul that can be earned in earthly life by kings and paupers alike. Without this spiritual wealth, all who enter the spirit world, regardless of their former status, must dwell in this place where everyone is equally impoverished in matters of the spirit.
Here some of the people would wrangle and quarrel and complain that they had not been fairly treated in being in such a place, seeing what had been their positions in earth life. They would blame others as being more culpable than themselves in the matter, and wake a thousand excuses, a thousand pretences, to anyone who would listen to them and the story of what they would call their wrongs. Others would still be trying to follow out the schemes of their earthly lives and would try to make their hearers believe that they had found means (at the expense of someone else) of ending all this weary life of discomfort, and would plot and plan and try to carry out their own schemes, and spoil those of others as being likely to interfere with theirs, and so on would go the weary round of life in this Land of Unrest.
In this realm, some individuals argue and grumble about their situation, claiming it's unfair given their former social status. They blame others for their predicament, making countless excuses and seeking sympathy from anyone willing to listen to their perceived injustices. Others persist in pursuing their earthly ambitions, attempting to convince people they've found a way out of their misery—usually at someone else's expense. These individuals continue to scheme, sabotaging others' plans that might interfere with their own. And so the tedious cycle of existence continues in this Land of Unrest.
To all whom I found willing to listen to me I gave some word of hope, some thought of encouragement or help to find the true way out of this country, and so passed on through it and journeyed into the Land of Misers--a land given over to them alone, for few have sympathy with true misers save those who also share their all-absorbing desire to hoard simply for the pleasure of hoarding.
I shared words of hope and encouragement with anyone willing to listen, offering guidance on how to escape this place. Then I moved on, entering the Land of Misers—a realm inhabited solely by those consumed by greed. Few can empathize with true misers except those who share their obsessive desire to hoard wealth for the sheer pleasure of accumulation.
In this country were dark crooked-looking beings with long claw-like fingers, who were scratching in the black soil like birds of prey in search of stray grains of gold that here and there rewarded their toil; and when they had found any they would wrap them up in little wallets they carried and thrust them into their bosoms that they might lie next to their hearts, as the thing of all things most dear to them. As a rule they were lonely, solitary beings, who avoided each other by instinct lest they should be robbed of their cherished treasure.
In this land, hunched figures with long, claw-like fingers scoured the dark earth like vultures. They searched tirelessly for scattered gold flakes, which occasionally rewarded their efforts. Upon finding any, they'd carefully tuck them into small pouches and press them against their chests, close to their hearts—the gold being their most prized possession. These beings typically lived as solitary hermits, instinctively avoiding others for fear of losing their treasured findings.
Here I found nothing that I could do. Only one solitary man listened for a brief moment to what I had to say ere he returned to his hunt in the earth for treasure, furtively watching me till I was gone lest I should learn what he had already got. The others were all so absorbed in their search for treasure they could not even be made conscious of my presence, and I soon passed on from that bleak land.
I found no opportunity to help here. Only one lone person paid attention to me briefly before returning to his treasure hunt, eyeing me suspiciously until I left, afraid I might discover his findings. The others were so engrossed in their search for riches that they didn't even notice me. I quickly moved on from this desolate place.
From the Misers' Country I passed downwards into a dark sphere, which was really below the earth in the sense of being even lower in its spiritual inhabitants than parts of the earth plane.
From the realm of the greedy, I descended into a dark domain that was truly beneath the earth. This place was even lower in its spiritual nature than the earthly plane, housing beings of an even baser essence.
Here it was very much like the Land of Unrest, only that the spirits who dwelt here were worse and more degraded looking. There was no attempt made at cultivation, and the sky overhead was almost dark like night, the light being only such as enabled them to see each other and the objects near them. Whereas in the Land of Unrest there were but wranglings and discontent and jealousy, here there were fierce fights and bitter quarrels. Here were gamblers and drunkards. Betting men, card sharpers, commercial swindlers, profligates, and thieves of every kind, from the thief of the slums to his well-educated counterpart in the higher circles of earth life. All whose instincts were roguish or dissipated, all who were selfish and degraded in their tastes were here, as well as many who would have been in a higher condition of spiritual life had not constant association on earth with this class of men deteriorated and degraded them to the level of their companions, so that at death they had gravitated to this dark sphere, drawn down by ties of association. It was to this last class that I was sent, for amongst them there was hope that all sense of goodness and right was not quenched, and that the voice of one crying to them in the wilderness of their despair might be heard and lead them back to a better land.
This realm resembled the Land of Unrest, but its inhabitants were even more degraded. The landscape was barren, and the sky was almost as dark as night, with only enough light to see nearby objects and people. Unlike the Land of Unrest, which was filled with bickering and jealousy, this place was rife with violent fights and bitter arguments. Here, one could find gamblers, alcoholics, con artists, and criminals of all kinds, from petty thieves to sophisticated white-collar criminals. The inhabitants included those with roguish or depraved instincts, as well as selfish individuals with degraded tastes. There were also many who might have reached a higher spiritual state if not for their constant association with such people on Earth, which had lowered them to their companions' level. Upon death, these individuals had been drawn to this dark realm by their earthly ties. It was to this latter group that I was sent. Among them, there was still hope that not all sense of goodness and morality had been extinguished. Perhaps the voice of one calling out to them in their despair might be heard and guide them back to a better place.
The wretched houses or dwellings of this dark Land of Misery were many of them large spacious places, but all stamped with the same apalling look of uncleanness, foulness and decay. They resembled large houses to be seen in some of our slums, once handsome mansions and fine palaces, the abodes of luxury, which have become the haunts of the lowest denizens of vice and crime. Here and there would be great lonely tracts of country with a few scattered wretched houses, mere hovels, and in other places the buildings and the people were huddled together in great gloomy degraded-looking copies of your large cities of earth. Everywhere squalor and dirt and wretchedness reigned; nowhere was there one single bright or beautiful or gracious thing for the eye to rest upon in all this scene of desolation, made thus by the spiritual emanations from the dark beings who dwelt there.
The dilapidated buildings in this grim realm were often massive structures, yet all bore the same disturbing signs of filth, squalor, and ruin. They resembled the slum dwellings of our world, once-grand mansions and palatial homes, now reduced to dens of depravity and crime. The landscape alternated between vast, desolate areas dotted with a few ramshackle hovels and crowded, gloomy urban centers that mimicked Earth's largest cities in their most degraded state. Everywhere, squalor, grime, and misery prevailed. Not a single uplifting or attractive element existed to ease the eye in this desolate scene, shaped entirely by the dark spiritual energies of its inhabitants.
Amongst these wretched inhabitants I wandered with my little star of pure light, so small that it was but a bright spark flickering about in the darkness as I moved, yet around me it shed a soft pale light as from a star of hope that shone for those not too blinded by their own selfish evil passions to behold it. Here and there I would come upon some crouched in a doorway or against a wall, or in some miserable room, who would arouse themselves sufficiently to look at me with my light and listen to the words I spoke to them, and would begin to seek for the better way, the returning path to those upper spheres from which they had fallen by their sins. Some I would be able to induce to join me in my work of helping others, but as a rule they could only think of their own miseries, and long for something higher than their present surroundings, and even this, small as it seems, was one step, and the next one of thinking how to help others forward as well would soon follow.
Among these miserable souls, I wandered with my tiny beacon of pure light. It was no more than a bright spark flickering in the darkness as I moved, yet it cast a soft, pale glow around me—a star of hope for those not too blinded by their own selfish desires to see it. Here and there, I'd encounter someone huddled in a doorway, against a wall, or in some squalid room. They'd rouse themselves enough to look at my light and listen to my words, beginning to seek a better path—the road back to the higher realms from which their sins had cast them down. I could persuade some to join me in helping others, but most could only dwell on their own suffering, yearning for something beyond their current state. Even this small step, though it may seem insignificant, was progress. The next step—considering how to help others move forward—would soon follow.
One day in my wanderings through this country I came to the outskirts of a large city in the middle of a wide desolate plain. The soil was black and arid, more like those great cinder heaps that are seen near your iron works than anything I can liken it to. I was amongst a few dilapidated, tumble-down little cottages that formed a sort of fringe between the unhappy city and the desolate plain, when my ears caught the sound of quarreling and shouting coming from one of them, and curiosity made me draw near to see what the dispute might be about and if even here there might not be someone whom I could help.
During my travels across this land, I reached the edge of a large city situated in the middle of a vast, barren plain. The ground was dark and dry, reminiscent of the massive slag heaps found near iron foundries. I found myself among a handful of rundown, crumbling cottages that formed a boundary between the dreary city and the desolate plain. Suddenly, I heard shouting and arguing coming from one of the houses. Curious, I approached to see what the commotion was about, wondering if there might be someone I could assist, even in this forsaken place.
It was more like a barn than a house. A great rough table ran the length of the room, and round it upon coarse little wooden stools were seated about a dozen or so of men. Such men! It is almost an insult to manhood to give them the name. They were more like orangutangs, with the varieties of pigs and wolves and birds of prey expressed in their coarse bloated distorted features. Such faces, such misshapen bodies, such distorted limbs, I can in no way describe them! They were clothed in various grotesque and ragged semblances of their former earthly finery, some in the fashion of centuries ago, others in more modern garb, yet all alike ragged, dirty, and unkempt, the hair disheveled, the eyes wild and staring and glowing now with the fierce light of passion, now with the sullen fire of despair and vindictive malice. To me, then, it seemed that I had reached the lowest pit of hell, but since then I have seen a region lower still--far blacker, far more horrible, inhabited by beings so much fiercer, so much lower, that beside them these were tame and human. Later on I shall describe more fully these lowest beings, when I come to that part of my wanderings which took me into their kingdoms in the lowest hell, but the spirits whom I now saw fighting in this cottage were quarreling over a bag of coins which lay on the table. It had been found by one of them and then given to be gambled for by the whole party. The dispute seemed to be because each wanted to take possession of it himself without regard to the rights of anyone else at all. It was simply a question of the strongest, and already they were menacing each other in a violent fashion. The finder of the money, or rather the spiritual counterpart of our earthly money, was a young man, under thirty I should say, who still possessed the remains of good looks, and but for the marks that dissipation had planted on his face would have seemed unfit for his present surroundings and degraded associates. He was arguing that the money was his, and though he had given it to be played for fairly he objected to be robbed of it by anyone. I felt I had no business there, and amidst a wild chorus of indignant cries and protestations that they "supposed they were as well able to say what was honest as he was," I turned and left them. I had proceeded but a short way, and was almost opposite another deserted little hovel when the whole wild crew came struggling and fighting out of the cottage, wrestling with each other to get near the young man with the bag of money whom the foremost of them were beating and kicking and trying to deprive of it. This one of them succeeded in doing, whereupon they all set upon him, while the young man broke away from them and began running towards me. In a moment there was a wild yell set up to catch him and beat him for an imposter and a cheat, since the bag was empty of gold and had only stones in it, the money, like the fairy gold in the stories, having turned, not into withered leaves, but into hard stones.
The building resembled a barn more than a house. A long, rough table filled the room, surrounded by crude wooden stools seating about a dozen men. But to call them men seemed almost insulting. They looked more like apes, with features reminiscent of pigs, wolves, and birds of prey. Their faces were coarse, bloated, and distorted, their bodies misshapen, and their limbs twisted beyond description. They wore tattered versions of their former finery, some in centuries-old styles, others in more modern attire. All were dirty and disheveled, with wild eyes that glowed with fierce passion or sullen despair. I thought I'd reached the depths of hell, but I've since seen far worse places inhabited by even more terrifying creatures. The men were arguing over a bag of coins on the table. One had found it, and now they were gambling for it. Each wanted to claim it for himself, regardless of others' rights. It was simply a matter of who was strongest, and they were already threatening each other violently. The finder of the money - or rather, its spiritual counterpart - was a young man under thirty. He still had traces of good looks, and if not for the marks of his lifestyle, would have seemed out of place among his degraded companions. He argued that the money was his, and though he'd agreed to gamble it fairly, he objected to being robbed. Feeling out of place, I left amidst their angry protests. I hadn't gone far when the entire group burst out of the cottage, fighting over the young man with the money bag. They beat and kicked him, trying to take it. When one succeeded, they all turned on him. The young man broke free and ran towards me. Suddenly, they realized the bag contained only stones, not gold. With a wild yell, they chased after him, calling him a cheat and an imposter. The money, like fairy gold in stories, had transformed not into withered leaves, but into hard stones.
Almost before I realized it the wretched young man was clutching hold of me and crying out to me to save him from those devils; and the whole lot were coming down upon us in hot pursuit of their victim. Quick as thought I sprang into the empty hovel which gave us the only hope of asylum, dragging the unfortunate young man with me, and slamming the door I planted my back against it to keep our pursuers out. My Goodness! how they did yell and stamp and storm and try to batter in that door; and how I did brace myself up and exert all the force of mind and body to keep them out! I did not know it then, but I know now that unseen powers helped me and held fast that door till, baffled and angry that they could not move it, they went off at last to seek for some fresh quarrel or excitement elsewhere.
Before I knew it, the terrified young man was clinging to me, begging for protection from his tormentors. The mob was closing in, eager to reclaim their prey. Instinctively, I pulled him into a nearby empty shack—our only hope for refuge—and slammed the door shut, bracing myself against it to keep the pursuers at bay. The crowd's fury was intense. They shouted, pounded, and tried to force their way in. I summoned every ounce of strength, both mental and physical, to hold them back. Although I didn't realize it then, I now believe that unseen forces aided me, keeping the door firmly shut until, frustrated and enraged by their failure, the mob finally dispersed in search of new targets for their aggression.