Life and labor in the spirit world / Being a description of localities, employments, surroundings, and conditions in the spheres.

I have recently attended a convocation of women, in one of these city gardens, earnest, noble, true-souled women, who met together to discuss plans and devise measures for the welfare of their sister-women upon the earth. They had gathered together to send forth their silent, penetrating, uplifting sympathy toward those who are crowded almost out of existence, either by the pitiless hand of poverty, or shunned and scorned because of the unfortunate lives circumstances have compelled them to lead.

In the realm of spirit, our societies are not confined to one sex; there is no exclusiveness; woman is not considered incompetent to discuss the questions of life with her brother. Men do not meet in club or barroom, to revel in scenes they would blush to have their sisters witness, neither do women have their sorosis, that the gentlemen cannot enter, or sewing-circle, where gossip and slander—those tender tid-bits so delicious to some tastes—are woven into the garments they fashion, with their pernicious and malicious influence.

Each convention, every organization is founded upon the polished square of Equality, and membership is freely extended to male and female alike; thus rounding out the perfect circle of harmonious life. But this convocation of which I speak, composed entirely of women—tender, helpful, loving women—who have witnessed the struggles and the sorrows of those dear children of humanity, whom mortals consider lost, but whom angels know shall yet be redeemed to honor and virtue, was called together because it had become evident to thinking minds that the so-called Progress of Humanity will remain but a sham, until society awakens to the fact that while one outcast remains outside the closed door of fraternal sympathy, while one poor sufferer is refused the helping hand or kindly word, to encourage her onward toward the highway of goodness, it is an agency of intolerance, and unworthy the name it bears.

And so, out in the bright, clear air, with the radiant sky above their heads, the flowery sod beneath their feet, where the grand old trees chanted their anthems of glory, as the breeze swept through their branches, these spirit women met, and with earnest faces and solemn words, dedicated themselves to the high mission of going one by one out into the material world to sow seeds of love and good-will in the hearts of mortals,—going forth from their beautiful spirit homes as teachers to humanity; and the one little lesson, so easy to read, so hard to remember and weave into practical life, which they seek to implant in human hearts, is this: “Judge not, but extend the friendly hand, the kindly word and smile, even more if you can, the cup of water and the meal of bread, to the poor unfortunate, whose life is bowed beneath the weight of its own mistakes, and who bears more punishment within the soul than you can dream it possible for one to endure.”

And so, from out the company of that heavenly band, whose influence stills all commotion, whose presence breathes a blessing of comfort and peace upon the passing spirit, I come to you today, dear reader, and in the tones of love say unto you of earth: “Oh, cultivate the truly Christ-like principles within you; develop the germs of benevolence, charity, patience, sympathy, and kindness, and let them flow out from your souls toward all those—whether male or female—who tread the paths of sorrow or vice, until like a cleansing flood they roll in waves of light over their sin-stained souls. Be just; give unto every soul the full measure of love that you would crave for yourself! Then shall the age of humanity become indeed a golden age, the fruitage of which will shine forth in noble lives, in redeemed lives, and in progressive lives; and society so blossom under the developed influence of Love and Sympathy as to shed its wealth of fragrant beauty over the hearts of all humanity, and every soul be known by the endearing name of brother or sister.”

DWELLERS IN ZENCOLLIA.

The dwellers in Zencollia are calm, peaceful, happy souls, who, having known the cares, the sorrows and the temptations of mortal life have, through their earnestness, through their aspirations, risen above all the annoyances of external things, and grown into harmony with the law of Love, which is the law of God. Associating together in bands of fraternal sympathy, they spend their time in devising ways and means to alleviate the condition of those bowed down by woe and suffering, to enlighten the ignorant, comfort the distressed, and free the imprisoned soul from error’s bondage, whether it be encased in mortal flesh, or dwelling in darkness of spirit.

They have founded schools of learning, colleges, where eminent teachers in the various branches of knowledge preside, and give forth their wisdom to the seeking mind, drawing forth and developing all the deepest, fullest powers of comprehension, and awakening all the noblest faculties of the student.

Investigation into the realms of Natural Law proceeds with minute exactness; experiments which test conclusions as to the cause, utility, and result of chemical and electrical forces are carried on; and schools are constantly sending out graduates, whose duty it is to search earnestly among the children of earth until they find minds capable of receiving, brains enlarged by earnest thought and study, competent to grasp and elaborate the ideas the spirits give, in order to convey to earth a practical demonstration of their experiments and investigations.

Such is Zencollia—happy, peaceful, industrious city of light; and as I gaze upon its glittering walls from my casement, I seem to feel a pulsating thrill, emanating, as it were, from its center, of good will to man, coursing through my being, until I become one in sympathy with the divine mission of its dwellers, which is, love toward God, manifested through love and helpfulness toward all creatures, all things.

This is but one of the many cities of that spirit country, that no thought can measure, no being scan. It is dearest, because nearest to me; yielding light, instruction, soul-sustenance to myself and to those I love. But there are countless other cities as glorious, peaceful, and ennobling, of which I shall speak in future pages. Among them may I mention Spring Garden City, home of intellect, philosophy and truth; Harmonial City, abode of wisdom, purity, and peace; Washingtonia, within whose walls dwell knowledge, justice, and freedom; and many another that presents a beautiful record of noble lives and enduring deeds, that shall outlast all perishable evidence of grandeur!—for they are engraved in spirit, and can never tarnish or decay.

Oh, darling friends in mortal, from the boundaries of that sweet city of light, we waft you spirit-greeting, love that shall know no change, sympathy that outlives all outward separation, and only grows the sweeter; peace that the world can neither give nor take away, and which passeth all understanding.

A SUBURBAN VIEW.

I have told you of the beautiful city of light, so near my spirit home; let me now speak of the natural surroundings upon which I may continually gaze in an ecstasy of delight from my western portico, or where I may roam at will, filled with the bliss of knowing the truth of existence, and its enjoyment among the beautiful works of Nature, that kind mother of us all, who brings her sweet offerings of waters, woods and flowers, birds and insects, mountains and hills, for the gratification and pleasure of humanity.

Close beside the home I inhabit a sweet vale lies, decked with fertile meadows and sunny glades, watered by glistening streams and rippling brooks, shaded by magnificent oaks and elms, and gemmed with starry flowers of every hue and of delicious fragrance.

Thickets of roses, blooming in rich profusion, dot the landscape here and there—roses independent of limited days and weeks, but which blossom on from day to day, one bud bursting into beauty after another, and no one left to bloom alone.

A grove of giant pines make music through this leafy vale, as the breezes sweep through their rustling branches; the carol of birds, the hum of insects, the rippling of waters, and the music of murmuring breezes, all combine to form a sweet harmony of sound, that, blending with the pure harmony of beautiful scenery, brings rest and peace to the souls of all who linger here.

Sweet spirit vale! dear Auburndale! for such I love to call you; within your borders, in sweet communion with God and Nature, the soul becomes purged of all material impurities, and grows into closer harmony with the sacred laws of being—Love, Sympathy, and Purity.

Away in the distance rises that majestic pile which to me is Mount Lookout; and as the sunlight rests upon it in gorgeous splendor, I know that upon my earthly home the sun is slowly sinking, in lines of rose and purple glory, behind the western hills.

Who could dream of pain and sadness amid the sunny sweetness of this enchanting vale? And yet, even here sometimes comes from a-far a sound of distress and anguish, brought plainly to our spirit ears by the waves of sympathy that surge within our souls; and we hear the wails of pain welling up from earth life, and mark the signs of devastation and distress bearing down upon the friends in mortal.

But why is this? Because from the depths of human suffering, pain, and death, that we see around us, a heavenly sympathy is born within our souls, and we become desirous of helping those in need, a sympathizing pity, prompting us to extend the cord of love we hold, until it encircles and draws upward, into realms of ineffable peace, the storm-tossed spirits in pain.

Disasters come to earth—conflagrations, misfortune—and from them often result suffering and death; but, glory to Him who rules! from the midst of these scenes of sorrow arise pure streams of helpfulness, strength, and succor for the distressed, that not only enriches the receiver, but also overflows with sympathy and blesses the soul of the bestower.

Up from the surging billows of distress, out of the fiery furnace of affliction, arises the pure Spirit of Love, cleansed by its contact with water, or refined by its passage through fire—noble, enduring, true—growing stronger and better from its upward flight, seeking as it goes the sympathy of angels, who, looking downward from the upper heights, send forth the sustaining cord of affection to draw the spirit upward, singing as it arises this grand refrain refrain—

MY HOME; ITS LIFE AND ASSOCIATIONS.

The home I inhabit in the Celestial Sphere would appear to mortals as a large, spacious, white mansion, surrounded by porticoes, verandas, and the like, the doorways opening upon a scene of surpassing loveliness; for there Nature wears her richest robes to beautify external life.

The interior of this habitation you would observe to be divided into various apartments, each furnished with appropriate furniture and hangings, the whole designed to harmonize in a perfect blending of form, color, and texture, pleasing to the eye and restful to every sense of the beholder.

We have private apartments of our own, where, when in need of mental repose, silent study, or deep meditation, the spirit may retire, apart from all companionship save that which breathes through every breadth of space—the presence of its God.

There are times in every life when it is best to be alone, when the spirit requires silent, undisturbed self-communion, when outward presence is an intrusion upon the soul; and at such times we are privileged to retire to our own private sanctum, unquestioned and not misunderstood by others.

In my pleasant spirit home there is a quiet nook, where I love to retire and ponder over the great problems of life constantly unfolding themselves before me; and there, surrounded by the beautiful in nature and art, natural flowers climbing over marble statuary, singing birds making music beneath some exquisite painting, I strive to unravel the seeming mysteries of existence; and not in vain, for to the earnest seeker after truth there comes a flood of light, illuminating the dark places and answering all silent questioning.

But my home contains apartments where sociability reigns, and there a happy band of spirits daily congregate to amuse, instruct, and bless each other; there, social converse, mingling with the recital of some experience, lesson, or advice, pleasant faces and loving hearts, fill the place with that harmony and peace only to be found where spirit meets spirit in sympathy and appreciative kindness. Eight of us, all young souls, meet together hour after hour, bringing each one his or her store of acquired knowledge, or displaying his or her ignorance upon any theme, only to have it dissipated by some new truth revealed to our understandings by others. We are never unhappy, never restless, never idle. In earthly experience others are far younger than myself; but in spiritual love and life I am the youngest of them all, and it refreshes my soul to partake of what those I love have to offer in the way of acquired knowledge.

This is a sample of group-home-life in the spirit world; a band of loving, earnest spirits, whose highest ambition is to become great in knowledge, that they may understand the laws of life, and thereby be able to avoid mistakes, and competent to transmit a light and knowledge of life to poor, darkened, misguided souls, who moil in sorrow and pain. The members of these groups or bands are guarded and protected, instructed and upheld, by wisdom spirits, who, having dwelt in mortal until the physical ripened naturally for the change, passed on to enjoy the fruits of their experience, and, having dwelt long in the spiritual, are competent to guide and instruct these young souls bound to their own by the ties of soul-affinity, as well as those of consanguinity, yet confined by no arbitrary laws that chain and restrain the higher emotions; thus our lives flow smoothly on, and each moment of existence brings us some new lesson, or some new opportunity of being of use to some one of the many spirits who walk the paths of sin or suffering.

You have heard of Zencollia City, with its peaceful homes and stately temples. Let me now speak to you of that sweet, blooming, delightful Spring Garden City, where the good, the beautiful, and the noble gather together to engage in works of love for humanity. It is impossible for you of earth to conceive of the magnitude and extent of this spirit city, which seems almost boundless in width and length.

The habitations are of various hues and textures; many of them standing in the midst of luxuriant groves, where the branches of stately trees cast a pleasant shade, and where birds make music all the sunny day; or in the center of blooming gardens, where parterres of beautiful flowers make the balmy air redolent with perfume and the landscape to glow with beauty.

These habitations, built as they may be of spotless, alabaster-like stone, marble, or a particular kind of variegated stone, peculiar to this place, which seems almost translucent, as it gleams in rainbow colors beneath the shining sun, are all furnished and adorned with soft, velvet-like draperies, snowy hangings, pure white tables and seats, beautiful, life-like pictures, ivory statuary, and hanging baskets of flowering plants, and present a picture of home-like comfort and hospitality.

Many of the houses are open at the sides, the ceilings being supported by exquisitely carved columns of stone, around which emerald vines, laden with fragrant flowers, climb and cluster; and the passer-by can note the appearance of purity, peace, and comfort within.

THE PEOPLE OF SPRING GARDEN CITY.

The inhabitants of this celestial city are ever busy, either devising some new method of aiding and assisting the distressed, attending some of its many schools of instruction, its halls of music and literature, or working together in bands to elevate and instruct needy souls upon earth, or in the lower realms of spirit life.

These spirit people dress simply and naturally, in flowing robes, of any color which most harmonizes with their interior condition; they are all beautiful, a light radiating from each countenance, an expression of peace and contentment upon each face, and a smile upon the lips; all of which beautify the features and cast a halo of brilliancy around the form.

Beautiful groves, watered by running streams, shaded by lofty trees, and made charming by banks of velvety moss, starred with fragrant blossoms, are seen in the midst of this city of souls; and in these spots beneath the blue canopy of the sky, inhaling the perfumed invigorating air, many spirits daily congregate to listen to words of advice, instruction, and wisdom from inspired lips. And from these places the inhabitants of Spring Garden City go forth to their homes, exalted in spirit, or come down to mortals who dwell in sorrow, and shed over them the divine influence caught from higher scenes, which uplifts and strengthens the struggling ones below.

CHILDREN’S LYCEUM.

In the center of one of the largest, most beautiful groves, where rippling waters, breezes swaying the leafy branches of the trees, and the song of birds send a constant stream of melody through the air, made fragrant by odorous flowers, a stately temple stands. It is of burnished silver, which flashes and glows in the light of the sun. Within, its walls are hung with landscape paintings, and draperies of azure satin. The floor is of white marble, and the spotless ceiling is frescoed with paintings of marvelous beauty.

Here the spiritual lyceum of Spring Garden City daily convenes its sessions, where spirit children are taught the duties and the lessons of life. Some of the most exalted and brilliant souls resident in that city are teachers and guardians in this school, and it is their delight to so cultivate and train the young minds under their charge that only the beautiful attributes of the soul will grow, and the selfishness of life shall be eradicated. And it is because of the instruction and development received in such schools as this that little children can so readily return to earth, and bless and comfort weeping mortals with their sweet words of sympathy and love.

Harmonial City is a broad, beautiful, extensive city of the spirit world. Its streets are literally shining, broad and straight, paved with blocks of cool, white stone of great purity, and lined on either side with beautiful, fragrant flowers.

In the center of each street, a fountain constructed of a material resembling silver, carved in the most wondrous designs, sends forth jets of crystal water, which rise in fan-like shapes and fall again in gleaming sprays upon the beds of flowers blooming at the fountain’s base, whence a cloud of sweet perfume rises to scent the balmy air.

At regular intervals, in this city of the spirits, beautiful parks are laid out, abounding in all the natural beauty of flowers, trees, shrubbery and water, serving to delight the eye and calm the senses of the soul.

The habitations of this city of harmony are formed or fashioned of various substances, each dweller building his mansion to suit himself; hence we observe the tiny, white vine-embowered cottage, with its surrounding flower garden, side by side with the stately mansion, environed with smooth walks and velvety lawns.

The inhabitants of this place are particularly sympathetic and harmonious; they are at peace with all the world and their own souls; they take no active part in the turmoils and strifes of others; they do not commune with earth save only as they transmit their messages through spirit intelligences below them.

Here are grand and massive temples, more richly draped and ornamented than any I have elsewhere seen; temples dedicated to Poesy, Music, Literature, and Philosophy. Here the active, critical, keen-searching scientist is not at home; but the musician, the poet, the philosopher, and the idealist find a heaven.

The poetry that delights the soul of the bard is here breathed forth through flower and streamlet; all the surroundings seem made up of poetry, so fragrant, sweet, and subtle is the calm, beautiful life we behold in this wonderful city. Well may it be named Harmonial City; for its very atmosphere, its pretty homes, its adornments, and the features and forms of its inhabitants, all breathe of harmony and peace. The dwellers within this city I am told seem not so much like members of one family, as parts of one healthy body, each performing its function and duty, the whole harmoniously blending in one form of symmetry and beauty; and I can well believe this, from what I have seen of them.

In this city, musicians, poets, artists, and idealists—transcendentalists, if you will—love to congregate in their respective temples, which are ever open to all who wish to enter, and by contact with each others’ minds throw off new strains of harmony in verse, outline some new work of beauty, develop some beautiful idea, or evoke a new melody of the spheres. And from these master-souls beautiful ideas, melodies, and ideals come floating down to earth. Transmitted through the atmosphere below, they eventually awaken an echo in the heart of some aspiring soul,—when, lo, a new poem, a new strain of melody, a new harmonious thought, is given to the world.

It has been my good fortune to visit once or twice this wonderful City of Harmony, and ever after my mind has possessed a new and beautiful picture to hang upon the snowy walls of memory,—a picture of harmoniously blended tints, of flowery beds, of sunny fountains, of massive temples, crowded with faces from which all trace of passion hath forever vanished, and which bear only the impress of ineffable peace; where harmony is the life of the spirit, and melody runs like a liquid stream through all the sunny days.

A MAGNIFICENT TEMPLE.

Imagine, if you can, a magnificent temple built of a kind of white translucent stone, which, as the sunlight falls upon it, glows and sparkles with the bright, prismatic hues of the rainbow; imagine this temple to be so vast and spacious in its dimensions that its brilliant dome seems to pierce the snowy clouds, while in length it extends as far as the eye can reach; imagine delicate vines, wreaths and pictures carved exquisitely upon the outer walls of this building, while a magnificent garden, blooming in the rich luxuriance of summer, surrounds it on every side; and after you have imagined all this, you will have a faint idea of that massive temple of Harmonial City, in which artists of every grade congregate to pursue their favorite studies.

The interior of this splendid palace is hung with richest drapery, and adorned with rarest works of art, creations of those artist-spirits who delight to give outward expression to the ideals of beauty within their souls.

Mortal eyes have never witnessed such forms of skillful beauteous art, so life-like in every sense, so soul-thrilling, as are gathered here. Mortal ears fail to catch the celestial tones of harmony, the divine notes of melody, that are uttered here by spirits who appear to be all music, all harmony.

The interior of this beautiful building is divided into four spacious compartments, with one vast hall over all.

The lower halls are devoted to sculpture, painting, music, and poetry. Each one is fitted up grandly, hung with shimmering drapery, and adorned with forms of peerless beauty. Here the student lingers, his soul entranced with the glory of his work, his being illuminated with the divine inspiration he gathers.

The whole edifice, with its splendid appointments, is like a divine poem, a completed strain of harmony, a perfect picture, or a finished statue of grace and symmetry; and the forms and faces of the masters who dispense instruction to the student give glory and benignity to the whole.

The vast hall above is the most beautiful place I have ever seen—paved with white and gold, the walls hung with exquisite paintings, adorned with gleaming statuary, save here and there where openings admit the balmy, perfumed air; the ceiling of white and azure, gemmed with golden stars; the shining fountains on the floor, which send up sprays of crystal water, the baskets of richly-blooming flowers, swinging here and there; the grand stands of shining gold, where the favored children of genius gather; the silken couches and dais for the visiting company—all present a scene of richness and beauty difficult to be described.

In this place grand entertainments are given, to which the denizens of the city and elsewhere are admitted, to feast the intellect upon the wondrous creations of artist, poet, sculptor, and musician, and to listen to instructive lectures upon the arts. And it is indeed a feast to the soul to attend one of these receptions; it is an experience which draws the spirit upward, and elevates it into a purer, more refined condition; for purity and goodness are the themes of the artist’s inspiration, and love broods over all, manifested in the desire to instruct and bless every life. This is one of the largest temples I have ever seen, although many smaller ones, erected for like purposes, are scattered throughout the higher spheres of spirit life.

CITY OF JOY.

There is a beautiful little city in the Summer-Land, which, situated between rising hills of ever-glowing verdure, presents an appearance of restful tranquillity and harmonious peace. Its name signifies “City of Joy.”

The habitations of this place are all of a circular shape, pavilion-like in appearance, typical of the rounded out completeness of human life. These buildings are open at the sides, the roofs of shining brightness, supported by columns of white ivory, exquisitely carved, and entwined with clustering plants and flowering vines. They also are ranged in circles or spheres, eight of these homesteads, with their connecting flower-gardens, comprising a circle. Here and there are gateways, leading to vast and beautiful grounds, where all that can delight the eye and charm the ear may be found. These gateways are reared of solid alabaster-like stone, in the form of an arch.

Everywhere we observe the circle and arch, nowhere do we find sharp corners, or the angular edge; all is smooth, completed, harmonious. The flower-beds are in rings, blooming with soft, exquisite tints, and redolent with delicate odors.

The inhabitants of this city dwell in unity, co-operate together in associative bodies, each one working for the good of all. Their sphere represents brotherly love and honest fidelity; their aura is clear, shining and transparent.

I understand that these beings rarely, if ever, return to earthly scenes. They have long since passed beyond the conditions of material things; they are without passions, but delight to minister to suffering souls; they understand the art of preparing their beautiful garments from elements gathered from the gardens, and their food likewise grows spontaneously in the shape of rich, juicy, and nutritious fruit.

The habits of life of these beings are extremely simple; they have no artificial wants and desires; their clothing is of the flowing, drapery style; their homes are simply furnished with furniture framed from tree and shrub, and adorned with vines and flowers.

They are a studious people, interested in all that affects humanity, and have groves and temples dedicated to Truth, Wisdom, and Knowledge; also temples, large rotundas, where the sage and the philosopher, the chemist and the scientist, hold forth in words of wisdom.

This place I have seen but once, and then imperfectly. Thither I was guided by a venerable ministering being, who delights to instruct the young and ignorant. But one peculiarity I observed; instead of the brilliant light of golden sunshine pouring down upon the scene, the whole city seemed partially veiled in a peculiar, rose-tinted haze, which threw a delicious sense of beauty over the white homesteads, the gleaming waters of the circular fountains, and the blooming gardens.

The inhabitants of this supernal city traverse space mostly by the intensity of will-force, but I am told they also possess conveyances for ærial travel, circular-shaped, silken-draped air cars, which glide through the atmosphere like graceful birds of golden plumage. These I did not see, but I have seen similar ærial cars in other places.

Oh, were it possible to convey to you an adequate comprehension of the wonders and beauties of another life than this, it would be a task over which an angel might rejoice.

FLORALIA, THE VALLEY OF FLOWERS.

I cannot begin to enumerate to you the beautiful cities of spirit life, and the sweet, outlying country places; neither can I hope to convey to you a description of the peaceful, glowing valleys and woodlands of the Better Country. But there are two beautiful valleys of which I feel to speak, and which may give you a conception of the many fertile spots, rich with luxuriant growth, that adorn the Land of Souls.

Floralia, or the Valley of Flowers, is charmingly situated between two ranges of massive mountains, which glow in the sun with more than roseate brightness, or deepen into purple as the cooling shadows ascend their gleaming sides.

Long and wide the valley stretches out, sweet and fair, dotted here and there with groves and clumps of trees; a clear and limpid stream of water, reflecting the azure sky, runs through the midst of the valley, which is fed by living springs from the mountain. Clusters of snow-white cottages abound, whose inhabitants are composed of little innocent children, with their guardians, teachers, or spirit parents; for little ones coming to our life, who have no father and mother to greet them, are at once adopted by kind spirits, who devote their lives to their care and guidance.

But the most remarkable feature of this valley, and the one from which it derives its name, Floralia, is the lavish profusion of flowers on every hand. The green sward, so like velvet in softness, is literally covered with flowers—flowers of every type, degree, and color—the whole forming a magnificent scene of beauty and fragrance; so exquisitely do the colors blend and their odors harmonize. This you will believe is the home of honey-loving insects and singing birds, and the whole presents a perfect picture of delight.

To this flowery home, little children are brought, who pass out from earth in childhood’s hours; here they are borne by loving, ministering angels, and tenderly reared and cherished. Many of these little ones knew not the meaning of care and tenderness on earth, but all are lovingly tended at this place.

Here they attend the school of Nature, learn of flower and bird and rippling rill; and are instructed in the lessons of life, and the laws of being, by their gentle guardians. Only purity and peace abound here, and the little ones develop all their sweetest attributes of soul.

THE VALLEY OF DELIGHT.

The other vale of which I have spoken is called the Valley of Delight. This valley is somewhat depressed and nearly round; nestling between gigantic hills, it resembles a great green basin set with flowers of many hues. No scorching wind, no battling storm ever sweeps across this valley; all is mild and balmy. The crystal water flashes from many fountains and gurgles from leaping springs.

In this sweet spot more than one poet abides, more than one artist makes his home; but the great attraction of the place is a massive, white, academic-looking structure, in the center of the valley. This building is indeed a college of learning; within its lofty walls lessons are given and learned, not only in the usual arts and sciences, but, best of all, in the art of teaching, and of becoming competent to guide, instruct, and develop all the best powers of the little children. From this college in the Valley of Delight, spirits, men and women, youths and maidens, go forth to Floralia, to become teachers and guides for the little children who gather there.

In this college school, even elderly men and women are entered as pupils; those who, having experienced earthly life without the advantages of education, or have passed through mortality confined to one department of learning. In our world every spirit receives the opportunity for acquiring an education, and all, at some time, avail themselves of it. There are many such schools of learning in the spiritual world, and they are of untold benefit to the inquiring soul.

It would be useless for me to attempt to describe even a tenth part of the places I have visited, and scenes I have witnessed in the spiritual. Mortal language fails to convey a proper idea of certain phases of spirit life, even when the brain of our instrument can receive correctly the thoughts we impress upon it. To realize positively the beauties as well as the deformities,—if I may be allowed to use the word in relation to the lower spheres of spirit life,—one must be able to perceive them with spirit vision. Hence I have only attempted to convey to you a faint though real idea, so far as it extends, of what I have witnessed in other lands than those of earth.

THE HAPPY HUNTING GROUND OF THE INDIANS.

Before I close this chapter I must speak to you of that fair, peaceful, mountainous country of the spirit world, where the Indian race find a happy home. To reach this region from the cities of which I have spoken, one must go far out into the open country; through valleys and over hills; through deep forests and sunny glades, up, ever upward in his march, until at length he comes to an open stretch of green fields, where the mellow sunlight gleams and tiny flowers blossom. Beyond this level plain of verdure, a deep, blue, rolling river sweeps, its shining waves dancing in the sunlight under the quaint, canoe-like boats that rest upon them. Kanalaw, Smiling River, I have heard these waters called; and it seems indeed a fitting name, for only peace and joy is suggested at the sight of its shining waves. Beyond this rolling river there is a deeply-wooded country. Here you are up high among the mountains; this is the red man’s home, his happy hunting ground, where no foe disturbs him, where no storms can come.

The white race is welcome here as visitors, and a number live here as teachers to their dusky friends; but this is exclusively an Indian country. Throughout the deep forests, where cooling streamlets flow, and birds make merry music in the branches of the stately trees, the picturesque wigwams of the Indians stand, white and shining, embroidered with quills, feathers, and silks of every hue, hung with many-colored hangings or curtains of silken texture, and ornamented with natural flowers, which give out sweet incense to the breezes. The young people of the race delight to weave flowery garlands with which to deck their homes.

Out in the sunny glades of this region, where flowers of every kind bud and blossom, where the brooks murmur over mossy stones, and all life is glad, the great lodges of the country stand,—their school-houses and their council-halls,—and there they meet to give or gain instruction and to receive counsel from the wise chiefs whom they honor and love.

Tribes here mingle together and dwell in unity; no hate, no anger, no fears disturb their minds; they grow in harmony, and gain that strength of mind which they send back to aid and assist the pale-faces through their chosen mediums. Here the Indian finds rest and peace, gaining freedom, vigor, and strength from the waters, woods, and hills; growing gentle like the flowers, and mild as the evening breeze. His soul grows and expands in the power of love, and he gains knowledge not only from surrounding scenes, but through his intuitive faculties, which are receptive to truths, and likewise from learned and cultured beings from the higher spheres, who delight to teach the red man, and whom he in turn listens to with reverence and love.

This beautiful country, fairer than mortal eye hath ever witnessed, has proved a blessing to many a weary spirit. Not only is it a refuge for the poor, hunted and despised Indian, who, fleeing from mortal chains, finds therein rest and peace, but it is also a haven of rest to many a poor, weary pale face, who, passing out from mortal life, uncared for and alone, is taken up by tender spirits into this blooming country, and amid its pure air and green hills, cared for by the tender Indian maid, he gains strength and ease of mind and body. Here, too, many little children gain strength and power to return to earth as messengers of light to weary hearts.

And there are lyceums in the Indian country,—lyceums, where lessons are learned from the singing brook, the mossy stone, the budding flower, and the warbling bird; where the grand march is made beneath archways of living green, and many-colored banners are formed of blooming flowers; where life is natural, and where souls are happy and free.

As you gather around your cheerful firesides as mortals, and rejoice in the sweet associations and affections of the family circle, do you not sometimes think of those homes not made with hands, which the great army of your so-called dead inhabit? and do you not long to know something of them and their manner of existence?

I have recently visited one of these homes in the spirit world, of which I will endeavor to tell you. Imagine a large, white building, surrounded by pleasant grounds, and shaded by lofty trees (similar to your trees of maple and oak), in form, construction, and surroundings much like a substantial, comfortable country-seat of some well-to-do merchant in earth life. This home of which I speak is situated in “Pleasant Valley.” No wintry storms, no sudden waves of cold, no visitations of extreme heat, ever come to this place! The temperature of the valley is mild and delightful. There are many such homes as this of which I speak in Pleasant Valley, but they are not all inhabited by the same class of people.

In this comfortable home dwell two beings, male and female, companions in every sense of the term, whose delight it is to minister to the wants of others. I know not all the roads of suffering they passed, but I do know that on earth, many years ago, this woman loved and trusted in this man, and through the force of circumstances and conditions (perhaps because of a vacillating, fickle nature), he abandoned her to the merciless scorn of an unpitying world. Left alone, friendless and unaided, to fight the battles of life, what wonder that she was plunged in despair! Her babe lived scarcely three months on earth, ere it passed to the spirit world.

Crazed at this culmination of all her woes, the poor mother ended her mortal existence by suicide. For a time she led an aimless, restless existence in spirit, owing to the law of association drawing her back to former scenes; but soon, through the aid of ministering spirits, she was aroused to her true condition and prevailed upon to reach outward for a higher life.

Her mother-heart yearned and prayed for the tiny babe she had lost, when, lo, it was brought to her arms by tender mother-spirits, who had tended and cared for it with loving kindness. Mother and child were taken to a bright home, where flowers bloomed and branches waved, where all was beautiful, and there was nought of selfishness or woe to mar the serenity of the scene. Here in Pleasant Valley, surrounded by loving helpers and guides, these two beings unfolded in sweetness and purity, their lives growing into harmony with all mankind.

But the mother, whom I will call Mary, could not forget her early love; the object of her fondest affections was still dear to her soul, and in spite of unkindness, desertion, and neglect, her woman’s heart went out to him in a devotion born of undying love. At times, she could feel something like a chord vibrating within her, as if with pain, and she would feel that the spirit of her dear one was calling her to him.

At length she found him, still on earth, but, oh, how changed! Sorrow, want, and pain were marked on every feature. Oh, what tribulation and suffering had been his! Friends had died or deserted him; fortune had fled, and sickness marked him as her own. In hours of misery, thoughts of Mary had come to him; bitterly did he repent his past conduct, sadly did he mourn over his wasted life.

Soon he was called to the spirit world, but not at first did he find the angel of his dreams; though she was near, seeking to aid and assist him to throw off the clouds that pressed upon him, and to aid him to emerge from the terrible conditions that surged around him, it was impossible for her to announce her presence.

At length, by the herculean efforts of his will, by a determination to live for others instead of wholly for himself, he succeeded in throwing off the incubus that weighed upon his soul and confined it in the bondage of darkness. Then, what a glorious sight burst upon his awakened vision,—the face of her he once knew and loved, the face of her he had wronged, he beheld smiling upon him tenderly and peacefully, glorified by angelic love and pardon, while beside it gleamed another,—sweet, innocent, lovely,—the face of their angel child.

It is impossible for others to realize the misery and anguish of a human heart, to comprehend the thorny path a soul may have to tread in its journey of purification; therefore I cannot convey to you a knowledge of the suffering and sorrow these two beings experienced,—the one through betrayed confidence, the other through selfishness and wrong-doing; but we may well believe the anguish of the latter must ultimately have exceeded ten times the suffering of the former, as the wrong-doer must meet with stings and scourges of conscience of which the wronged is never aware.

A HOME FOR THE WEARY.

Led by Mary and her child into paths of peace, and at last pleasantness, the erring spirit began to blossom out from old conditions, and to develop depths of goodness in his nature, undreamed of hitherto. At length, it became their desire to open a spiritual home of peace and comfort for such weary souls, who, like our friend Mary, are forced out of mortal existence by the relentless hand of despair and to surround them with that sweet magnetism of love that serves to assuage their sorrows and strengthen their hearts.

Consequently, this beautiful home in Pleasant Valley, surrounded by shaded walks, rippling streams, blooming flowers, and smiling fields, is sustained by them as a refuge for weary, heart-sick souls, who through misery, want or neglect, have passed out from earth by their own act. Within, the apartments are pleasantly situated, commanding views of the joyous scene without; comfort, and even luxury, abound; the furnishing of the house is such as to please the eye and harmonize with the senses; form, color, and texture all blend in perfect unison. Seclusion and privacy may be had by those who will; cheerful companionship also is freely offered. Surely such a house of refuge, such a home of peace, must be welcome to a weary, storm-tossed soul.

Content in their work for others, Mary and her companion pass their time, constantly devising something new for the amelioration of human suffering, or giving of their energy and influence to strengthen and encourage the morally weak and blind. As teachers, helpers and guides, they are invaluable to others, and their labors follow them in the blessing and appreciation of all. Serenity and peace are stamped upon their features, while their forms, clad in simple robes, shine with dignity; hand in hand they pass through life, happy in each other and in their work.

What shall we say of their child,—innocent, star-eyed Stella,—she who returns to earthly scenes daily, as a missionary of light and peace to weary mortals, who brings an influence of benevolence to the hearts of the affluent, that they may bestow their bounty upon those in need; who soothes the weary and sad, and carries a blessing wherever she goes? She is a missionary of light, performing a noble work in guiding sorrow-stricken hearts to a haven of rest. The angels bless her, as mortals would do, were they aware of her presence in their midst, at times, when a deep influx of strength and consolation flows out from her life to theirs, and they know not whence it comes.

A few words more: Those happy, calm, and quiet beings, who at present inhabit the home in Pleasant Valley,—the “Mary Home,” as we love to call it,—would never be recognized as the sorrowful, hollow-eyed, unhappy creatures who not long since dragged their weary frames through the streets of earth. Now, peace and content are theirs; affection and sympathy feed their lives, and their hearts are no longer starved for the sustenance they crave.

But these beings will not always remain here. One by one, as they become strengthened and refreshed, as they become imbued with a desire to help others, they pass out to other scenes, to new labors, and new associations, where, as missionaries, they will continue to work for others, leaving sweet memories to cluster around the old home, and bright influences which bless and strengthen the weary ones who are brought to fill their places.

Such is the work accomplished in the Mary Home; such the life spent by those who, through much tribulation and sorrow, have found the dawn of a new existence. We do not scorn a spirit for what it has been; we honor it for its efforts to advance and grow into something better; for in this way happiness, peace, and blessing come to humanity.

THE CONDITION OF ONE SELFISH ON EARTH.

Passing through the various places and conditions of the spirit world, on missionary or beneficent purposes intent, one comes in contact with strange and startling scenes and people, presenting a weird and uncouth appearance, as well as with those bearing the impress of suffering and woe.

I well remember one being with whom I was brought into association by a beautiful spirit, whose delight it is ever to work out some benefit to others. This being, to whose side I was brought, was a female, tall, gaunt, unhappy; her garments seemed to be formed of a heterogeneous mass of fabric, of every color and texture, presenting at once a grotesque and unnatural appearance.

“See,” she said, as I gazed upon her, “see my fine robes, how beautiful, how rich; I hid my jewels, that none should find them; I cut up my handsome dresses, that none could wear them when I was dead; I hid my gold, that none should spend it in riotous living; and see, I have them all here again, in these beautiful robes of mine.”

It was plainly to be seen that this unfortunate creature believed what she said; presenting a pitiable appearance to others, to herself she appeared to be the perfect ideal of dignity and beauty. I soon learned the secret of her deplorable condition. On earth this woman had been cursed with great wealth. I say “cursed,” for to her spirit it had indeed proved a curse, narrowing her intellect in the eager pursuit of more wealth, and warping her spiritual faculties to a truly lamentable extent. While not denying herself the luxuries of life, she yet refused to spend one penny for the comfort of others; indeed, so selfish and greedy had she grown, that she could not bear to see others enjoying one grain of the wealth and luxury which she possessed, and she determined that since she must “die,”—she did not believe in a future life, nor in the existence of a higher power than man,—since she must leave all she possessed, no one else should enjoy it; and so she had destroyed her riches and garments, and hidden much of her jewelry and gold, so that after she was dead, her relatives would fail to benefit by them.

This woman had lived alone on earth, a solitary, haughty, mercenary being; and in this spirit of unrest she had passed out into the Eternal World, only to find herself stripped of all wealth, grandeur, and honor,—a poor, wretched creature.

But as yet she had not aroused to this fact; she felt herself a dethroned queen; she did not realize the utter poverty and squalor of her surroundings; her only desire seemed to be to keep the gold and jewels hidden from the light of day.

I was much interested in this spirit. I sought to awaken some sense of justice, honor, and benevolence within her soul, but without avail. To all my entreaties, arguments, and persuasions, she would turn a deaf ear. Her mind seemed to gloat only upon the disappointments of those on earth, who sought for her hidden treasure, and her time was spent in mocking their futile search, bewailing her own inability to profit by her wealth, or parading herself to and fro before the eyes of any passer-by.

The surroundings of this miserable woman seemed to be as sterile and gloomy of aspect as her own soul,—cold, cheerless, and deserted. No blooming flower, no shrub of luxuriant green adorned the scene; barren rocks and stony ground alone met the sight; not even the maligned thistle or thorn-bush were here to enliven the scene; and yet this being in her haughtiness of spirit, perceived not the gloom and darkness and dearth.

This woman,—seemingly in all but outward appearance anything but a woman,—so haughty, selfish, even vindictive—what could she produce sweeter than thorn or thistle?

Spirit parents and friends of this unfortunate being gathered around, who would fain have assisted her out of her miserable condition; but she knew them not, and waved them away from her side.

FIRST STEPS TOWARD ENLIGHTENMENT.

But this state of things could not continue long; as the constant dropping of water will wear away a stone, so the continued influence of earnest spirits descending upon another will produce its result, and so the influence of these good, beneficent ones began slowly yet surely to produce a softening effect upon this woman’s heart. She grew unhappy, restless; the gold and jewels of her former days haunted her; she longed to see them once again. In one of these moods she found herself in the bodily presence of a kinsman,—one poor, but worthy,—whom she had despised as shiftless, because while burdened with an invalid wife, and a family of little ones, he could do nothing more than keep himself and family above want and debt.

Thinking deeply of the hiding-place of her treasure, and longing to behold it once again, she did not know that the intensity of her desire, and the impression on her soul concerning the place of concealment, communicated itself to the mind, or spirit, of her relative. He was in a partial slumber, it was early morning; just the time and condition favorable for producing spirit impression. Starting from his sleep, he exclaimed to his suffering wife: “I believe I have dreamed out the hiding-place of aunt Sarah’s money; I believe I can find it; at least, I shall search for it.”

His companion tried to soothe him into quiet, but all in vain; he could not rest, and shortly left the house, followed by the now anxious and thoroughly alarmed spirit.

I need not enter into details; before nightfall the treasure was found,—bank-notes, gold and jewels,—together with a note in the handwriting of the deceased woman, stating that the money should be owned by whoever found it, but the jewels must be returned to the heirs of the family. The only heir to the property was a young lady, a governess in a distant city. Gladly did the fortunate finder communicate with her, and as the jewels were worth fully as much as the money, she was glad to take them, and leave the residue with her relative.

Thus were honest hearts made happy, and needy ones provided for. He who found the treasure had been sorely tried; his wife’s health had become more precarious than ever, and his family were in need of even the necessities of life; for he had been thrown out of employment, and there was no prospect or hope of better days before him.

You may judge of the rejoicing in the poor man’s cottage that night; the children were elated, but the invalid’s tears flowed freely, as in broken accents she thanked the Father of us all for his tender mercy.

ENFRANCHISEMENT OF A SPIRIT.

It was this scene that softened the heart of that unhappy spirit, and actually brought tears to her eyes. She had rejoiced at the sight of her treasures again, then grown alarmed as she realized they had forever passed away from her; but when she witnessed the tears, and listened to the thanksgiving of the invalid woman, her own heart melted, and she wept in sympathy.

And so one little wayside blossom dared to lift its head above the arid soil, and to shed its fragrance over a bitter life,—the flower of Sympathy, which is so near akin to Love, that the angels consider them twin lilies blooming from one stem.

At this blessed moment, those earnest spirits who had longed for this surrounded the woman, dissipating the shadows with their brilliant presence, and revealing her to herself as she was. Horror, shame, anguish filled her spirit for a time; remorse for the good she had left undone pierced her through and through; but possessing strength, endurance, and energy, and assisted by her friends, she at length rallied and emerged from her old condition into a brighter one; her old garments dropped away, and womanly robes of simple fashion clothed her form, which soon rounded out in beauty of expression and symmetrical proportions. She is still growing, seeking to learn more of her new life, and to benefit others; and it is her delight to impress the receivers of her former fortune to expend a part of it for the benefit of others.

Thus have the wayside flowers of sympathy, love, benevolence, humility, and peace blossomed out from the defilement of selfishness and pride.

CHILDREN’S PROGRESSIVE LYCEUMS.

In this chapter, which I have devoted to the recital of scenes and incidents that occur in the spirit land, I must mention something concerning the Children’s Progressive Lyceums of that world, which are in session at this hour. I will give a description of that school which daily convenes in the massive temple at Spring Garden City, dedicated to Truth and Education. In this, as in all of our spirit lyceums, spiritual principles and aspirations are inculcated, and a knowledge of the laws of life instilled into the young minds who throng its spacious halls.

In that delightful temple, adorned with the artistic expressions of grace and beauty, where snowy statuary gleam out from nook and corner, displaying the sculptor’s skill, marvelous creations of ideality, representing all the grace and loveliness of human conception; where beautiful paintings adorn the crystal walls: scenes of natural beauty, glowing landscapes, gleaming water pictures, representations of calm and peaceful life, which the artist-soul has caused to speak a lesson from inert canvas; where the ceiling is carved in delicate forms of beauty, and the open walls invite the perfume of the flower and the balm of the passing breeze; where in truth all the surroundings are calculated to awaken only thoughts of the good, to develop a love of the beautiful in the growing mind, and to cause sensation to glow and blossom under the light of Purity;—groups of spirit children meet to learn the lessons of life, develop all the highest, noblest attributes of mind, and to cultivate the strongest, purest health for the outward form.

There spirit teachers gather, to give instruction to these young souls; to draw forth the inner powers of the undeveloped minds under their charge, and to inculcate on them the principles of true spirituality, which are love, purity, fidelity to truth, and a sense of justice.

And these groups of innocent children, from the prattling babe to the laughing youth or maiden, present a picture at once sublime and inviting. Whether chanting in chorus their beautiful spiritual hymns, which awaken devotion, or delivering in concert their golden-chain recitations, which tell of the wisdom and boundless love of our Father; whether relating some simple story of actual experience, or transmitting the grand and soul-inspiring utterances of others; whether exercising the limbs in wing movements, or performing the graceful and strengthening evolutions of the grand triumphal march; in each and all of these they present a picture of youthful beauty and innocence, of developing power and purpose, which strikes the beholder with the conviction that these groups of spirits are yet to wield a mighty power. By-and-bye those young souls will depart to take their places as teachers, guides, and helpers to the needy and lowly of earth, or to the ignorant, darkened minds who enter spirit life covered with the pall of superstition and fear; and to such beings they will prove a light that will brighten the highway to knowledge.

METHODS OF INSTRUCTION IN SPIRIT LYCEUMS.

These spirit lyceums are schools of education where thought is developed and love awakened; where beautiful sights and sounds arouse the young spirit into activity, and draw it into a condition of perfect harmony. The lessons are all instructive while entertaining, and are drawn from some natural object of bird or blossom, or taken from some beautiful painting, or group of statuary, which represents the idea to be conveyed to the mind grasping for knowledge.

Each child whose musical taste is developing, receives instruction in the laws of harmony and melodious sound; each child who loves art in its expressive form of painting or sculpture receives lessons from master-minds who delight to guide the awakening talent in its proper direction. All work in concord and all delight to please each other.

The rose and the acorn, the sparrow and the bee, the tinkling brook and the mossy stone, all speak a lesson of active, changing life to the child. The stars and the sunbeams breathe a lesson of divine goodness to him; and the spirit of all things is felt as he communes with Nature. And thus these children are prepared to go forth from their spirit lyceums breathing holy inspirations upon the lives of others, gently drawing them upward towards the life that knoweth all, the Love that enfoldeth everyone.

Oh, ye fathers and mothers, who weep in sorrow today because some darling has been taken from your earthly homes; did you realize how tenderly your loved one is cared for, into what a beautiful school your child has entered, to prepare him or her to become a glorious messenger of life and light and peace to the weary and the sad, you would not mourn, but rather rejoice that you have been permitted to offer up to the service of the Lord such a beautiful and pure missionary of love.

These spiritual lyceums, unlike your earthly gatherings of like import, convene daily; and the children and leaders, in constant association with each other, grow so in harmony together in sympathy and love, that they become a perfect whole, each one fitting naturally and beautifully into his or her place; and hence are enabled to perform an unequalled amount of good for humanity; and I have found that to these bands of holy angels, together with the efforts of the red race,—our Indian brothers,—belongs the credit of swinging back the pearly gates of immortal life, and setting them forever ajar, for the benefit of those who linger yet in mortal clay.

A GOLDEN-CHAIN RECITATION.

I would like to give you a specimen of the golden-chain recitations I listened to at the lyceum of Spring Garden City. The Guardian of the school recited the first line; the teachers of the various groups or classes followed on, in concert, with the second line; then the children of the first group recited the third line; the scholars of the second group the fourth line; and so on, until all had taken part in the exercise and become impressed with its beauty and devotional tendency; when all joined in the recitation of the last four lines.