Spirits do not, as a rule, underrate their own powers; there is no false delicacy to be assumed; they understand something of the possibilities within, and eagerly and thankfully accept the opportunities afforded them to cultivate their powers, and to develop these possibilities of the soul.

Therefore, though I do not at present feel to echo these sounds from the other shore through the channel of poetic expression, yet I do feel that some time I may so develop my inner powers as to sing in measured tones and cadences the song of my spirit, the melody of my soul.

But there is one being on earth to whom I would bring the early efforts of my spirit, to whose name I would sing my first song, and over whose soul I would pour the melody of my undying love. And so, feeble, crude, and imperfect though it be, I bring my song and sing it to

MY MOTHER.

My object in writing these pages is to give mortals an idea of the real life that is constantly passing in the spirit world, and to inform them of the conditions, surroundings, duties, labors, and pleasures of the denizens of the immortal state. The unsightly and desolate places I shall describe are as real to their inhabitants as are the dark alleys and gloomy by-ways of your own large cities. But while city lanes and alleys have been occupied, and made unpleasant and unsightly by carelessness and the neglect of physical comfort, these spiritually dark spots have been hedged in and rendered squalid and barren because of the sin and selfishness gathered around the inner life of those who linger here, at the expense of the beautiful qualities of the soul that should shine out and make all places bright.

Thus, spirits whose earthly lives have been impure and selfish find themselves surrounded by darkness and gloom when they enter the other world. The objective scenes around them represent the wild, chaotic state and barren results of their past lives, and present an appearance of great disorder. But as soon as they fully realize their terrible condition, begin to mourn over their past errors and follies, and struggle to arise out of such an unhappy state, the darkness commences to vanish, light dawns upon them, they find sweet fields where before appeared sterile rocks and sandy wastes; and they dimly feel and perceive the presence of ministering spirits, where previously all had appeared lonely and desolate.

Then begins the struggle to break from old ties and associations that still fetter the soul; then repentance and reformation commence, and the spirit pauses not until he or she has arisen out of old errors, and gained knowledge, light, and peace. Spirits of this class who have passed through the cleansing waters of suffering and trial, who have felt the purging fires of tribulation, remorse, and contrition, do not pause and rest content with their own deliverance from temptation and evil, but invariably become grand and efficient co-workers with those sweet missionary angels who delight to do good, and as messengers of light spend their time in seeking to aid other unfortunates out of the slough of error or despondency.

In the spirit world there are many beautiful spots that present an appearance of peace and loveliness, even of grandeur and enchantment to those who linger therein. Of these places I will speak to you by-and-bye, and you shall learn of the life and doings of their inhabitants. But first, I desire to devote a portion of this chapter to scenes and incidents I have witnessed among the unlovely and darksome haunts and resorts of those spirits who have not yet arisen into the light.

What I am about to describe to you is far from being a heavenly scene, and yet it is a scene I myself have witnessed, when in company with a beloved aunt, a veritable angel-missionary, I visited one of the many fields of her angelic labor.

A DARKENED SPIRIT LED TO SEE THE LIGHT.

A barren waste of sand and rocks spread out far and wide before us; no blooming plants, no lofty trees, no singing birds, to awaken music with their melody; all was silent, profound, deep desolation. At a distance I could perceive the white foam and the dashing waves of angry waters breaking upon a great line of cragged, dreary-looking rocks. Oh, what an appearance of unrestfulness was here!

At first I could perceive no signs of human life, not even a vestige of animal existence. The place was too sterile, barren, and forbidding for even the very lowest form of conscious being.

I turned to my companion in surprise at having been brought to such an unhallowed spot; perceiving which, she silently pointed to an object slightly in advance of us, which appeared to me but one of the many rocks about us, so thickly was it enveloped in a cloud of darkness; but which in a little time I discovered to bear a resemblance to a human form.

The figure was crouching down in the sand, its head bowed upon its knees, presenting a most abject and despairing appearance. It was evidently a male, and he seemed to be suffering intensely. I shall never forget the terrible pang that shot through me at the sight; nothing more than that experience would I need through all my life, to pity, sympathize with, and seek to assist the miserable and unfortunate.

I clearly saw that this unhappy soul could not perceive our approach. His senses were absorbed in his own condition and discordant surroundings; but we could trace upon the cloud-like vapor enveloping him lines indicating that his had been a hard and bitter life. Misery, intemperance, impurity of life, had marked his way; unmourned and unregretted on earth, he had entered spirit life, engulfed in degradation and despair. And then and there I learned that this place, appearing so terribly desolate, was typical of the earthly lives of those who came here for a time, because of their unhallowed existence through mortality.

Drawing closer, the angel with me spread her hands above the unfortunate’s head, and presently little lines of light streaming from her white fingers began to permeate the darkness, and the being before us groaned and stirred restlessly.

Continuing her work, my blessed companion made rapid passes over the form before us, the light still flowing down upon him from her fingers. He trembled, great tears coursed down his cheeks, and at last he cried: “Oh, Lord, save me! Help me, and I will be a better man!”

It was the cry of a spirit, struggling through the darkness, the degradation and sin of years, yearning for light and praying for assistance.

To me the place began to grow bright and beautiful. The gloom became permeated with streaks of rosy light. Sweet music floated through the air, which had lost its stinging sharpness. I lost sight of the barren rocks, the desert sand, and the dashing waves. Only the praying, tearful being before me, bloated and disfigured as he was, and the shining spirit at my side, were visible to me. The man’s tears redoubled, great sobs shook his frame, heavy sighs came welling up from his heaving breast; broken murmurs of remorse, contrition, and despair fell from his lips.

Still he did not see us; but to me the place grew brighter and brighter, until no ray of gloom remained.

Still continuing her magnetic passes, my friend cast a beam of light over the man’s face, and, looking up, he discovered her angel form bent in pity above him. Stretching out his hands with an imploring gesture, but with no sound, the miserable being gazed and gazed, as if to drink in hope, encouragement, even life itself, from the beautiful sight.

I soon became conscious of another presence beside me; an elderly female, bright, shining, beautiful, yet sad, very sad.

Catching sight of this new face bending over him, the suffering spirit cried: “My mother, oh, my mother!” and bowed his head from sight.

Drawing me away, my companion said: “We will leave him now to his mother’s tender care; she will help him to redeem himself. He is in the valley of tribulation, but soon he will arise to liberty and happiness.”

In company with that angel-missionary, my dear aunt, who passed from earth many years ago, a sweet, innocent maiden, I have many times visited these dark by-ways where undeveloped spirits, surrounded by gloomy clouds, remain, many of them perhaps indifferent to their condition. Yet we are always sure of finding one or more among them, who has grown weary, and become anxious for more light and goodness; and when we find them in this frame of mind, it is a beautiful task to talk to them, show them how they may grow better, and little by little lead them up to more pleasant conditions of existence.

AN OUTCAST FROM EARTH RETURNS TO AID THE FALLEN.

But to go on with my description of places I have seen: A thick, almost impenetrable forest, stretching out far and wide before us, its deep, dark undergrowth of shrubbery growing up in great thickets; tangled vines covering the trunks of the trees, and so interlaced that no sunbeams strayed through the leafy covert. No sound of singing bird, no scent of beautiful flower, could there be found. All was so dark, so lonely, so impervious, it seemed that not even a spirit might enter the confines of the gloomy place. But as we approached, the seemingly objective wood became subjective only; I found that we could pass through readily. In the depths of this forest, we came upon a female spirit, apparently asleep; wan, pale, and haggard, she presented an appearance of deep suffering.

My companion explained to me the meaning of this scene. This spirit had shortly before inhabited a mortal form. Tossed about here and there on the waves of poverty and misfortune, scorned and neglected and despised, she had felt herself an outcast from the human family, and in a fever of despair had ended her mortal life by poison.

Her wild longing for solitude, the hatred of society of any kind, her dislike to the city, and her desire to bury herself and her griefs in some uninhabited spot, had surrounded her spirit with this deep forest, within which no step disturbed her lonely vigils. She had realized that she could not kill the soul; she had found herself in this wild spot, alone and unclaimed, and for a time was thankful that no eye could look upon her.

But the silence, gloom, and solitude produced such an effect upon her spirit that a terrible reaction set in. She had had time to reflect, to realize her past life, and the cause of much of her misery. She had wept, and at last even prayed; and here alone with herself she had recognized her dependence upon humanity, and the duties she owed to it and to her own immortal nature. Then came a longing for companionship, a desire to leave this dreadful place, and a wish that she might go away where she could begin a new life, and be happy, innocent, and good like others.

Weary with contending emotions, she had sunk down exhausted, and her guardian spirit, who was no other than her own mother, and who had never left her, threw her into a deep trance, in which we found her, still attended by that mother-soul.

Raising the stricken being in our arms, we three spirits bore her away from the solitude, gloom, and darkness out into a beautiful valley, where the sun shone warmly, the birds warbled in the branches of the trees, the blue waters of a stream gurgled playfully between green banks, where flowers bloomed in fragrance and beauty, and laying her gently upon one of the mossy beds, we assisted the mother-spirit in bringing back the senses of her child.

Soon the blue eyes opened, and as they began to take in the scene around her, they filled with a happy light, and a peaceful smile played around her pallid lips. Very weak was this child of God, and we left her upon the fragrant couch, where balmy breezes bore new healing to her weary frame.

But not long; again and again we visited her, and shortly after found that she had been taken to a tiny, white cottage by her mother, where she was constantly growing stronger and better.

At times, thoughts of the old life would cause her cheek to blanch and frame to shudder; but as she was so thoroughly regretful for whatever had been wrong in her life, and was filled with such a desire to atone for past errors, and to learn the laws of her being, to perform whatever work my friend and teacher appointed her to do, she was so willing to learn and so anxious to aid others, that the memory of earth at last ceased to pain her, and now only serves to deepen in her soul a tender sympathy, and gentle, helpful love for the suffering and sin-tried souls who dwell on earth.

We call her “Charity,” and she has become a tender helper wherever a poor soul is in need of strength or encouragement; she goes out alone into the darkness, where others are suffering, and with her spirit love dispels the gloom, and sends rays of hope and mercy into the lowly depths of degradation and sorrow.

Above I have described scenes I have witnessed in the inner or soul-life of individuals, whose moral perceptions were but insufficiently developed, or had been warped and limited in action during their residence in the material form. Let me attempt to convey to you an idea of a scene I not long since witnessed in connection with a terrible disaster occurring upon the earthly plane.

UNSEEN HELPERS AT A CONFLAGRATION.

A terrible conflagration was raging in one of your large cities. Down among the business portions of the place, tenement houses, to be filled with families of human beings, had been erected. They had grown brown and unsafe with age, yet were swarming with human beings—a family of children, as well as grown persons, on every floor; and in this place a fire had broken out in the night, and had been raging for an hour before discovered. At last, relief came, but too late to save the lives of all those poor, helpless creatures. The bodies of a number of children, as well as men and women, were burned to a crisp in that holocaust of flame.

Attracted to the scene by the sufferings and necessities of human beings, hosts of invisible spirits penetrated the smoke and flame (which, though having no power to destroy disembodied beings, yet caused a darkness and gloom to surround them), and in company with dear spirits, whose work is ever for the amelioration of suffering and distress, I was privileged to approach with the hope of being of use to those who were passing out from mortal life in the midst of fiery flames.

And what a sight was there! Half-developed spirits, not realizing the grandeur of the triumph of right over wrong, were gathering around, as if to gloat over the sufferings of the stricken ones before us; gathered together by the fascinating attractions emanating from the spirit of that incendiary who had created this terrible blaze; and it seemed as if they were delighted at the calamity taking place before us. But a noble band of spirits, drawn together by the ties of sympathy, and attracted to the place by the tender pity in their souls for the suffering, approached, and with them brought such a radiant light that the evil-disposed influences speedily departed.

And then we turned our attention to the spirits struggling out from the flesh; by gentle magnetic passes we released them from the flame and smoke and bore them away to pleasant scenes and blooming places in the spirit world, where nothing can destroy.

Three little children it was our good fortune to release from a terrible sense of suffocation and fear—dear little children, whom we bore away to the Summer-Land, and placing them in a bower of blooming roses, we left them in the charge of a kind mother-spirit, whose tender love and soothing care would hush all grief and fear which might overtake them when they awoke from the deep magnetic sleep cast upon them by spirit power, in order to remove all traces of suffering and anguish.

Oh, could you witness from the spirit side of life the results of such a terrible conflagration as this, you would never rest until your streets were so laid out, your buildings so constructed, and so remote from each other, that it would be impossible for a fire to spread among them and carry such deadly mischief in its blazing folds.

And yet, in spite of the awful scene of blackening smoke and lurid flames, the presence of evil-disposed influences attracted thither by the destroying elements, the suffering, the misery and despair,—in spite of these, the sight of high and exalted intelligences, whose interior life brilliantly illuminated their features, and dispelled the darkness, abashed the evil-disposed, and stimulated the sympathizing efforts of mortals to aid the suffering, was a scene to be witnessed with joy; creating within us a sense of thankfulness, that above and beyond all sorrow, evil and pain, there is a life peopled with unselfish, holy beings, who glorify their Father by alleviating the pangs of the sorrowful and distressed. And I observed that around those kind souls in mortal, who were working with herculean efforts to save the lives and property of the tenants of these houses; around the noble firemen; the crowd who were putting forth powers and desires to be of use; around those who opened their homes for the destitute and suffering, a golden light shone, and bands of helpful, shining spirits gathered, aiding with strength and sympathy; and a light shone in the darkness of despair, a star gleamed brilliantly above the light of human sympathy,—the star of heavenly love.

The unpleasant, disagreeable, desolate places I have seen in my experience of spirit life have been few indeed compared with the many beautiful spots I have visited, and the scenes of grandeur, sublimity, or sweetness I have been privileged to look upon. I find that the natural scenery of the spirit world far transcends in beauty of forms and coloring everything of the kind which exists upon the earth; for, though the glowing sunset, the fairy-like sunrise, the exquisite blending of colors in fragrant flowers, the blooming vales, the luxuriant forests, the grand old mountains and foamy oceans belonging to earth combine to make up many a scene of indescribable beauty, yet these same forms and tints, existing as they do in the spirit world, are so refined, so delicate, yet so grand, majestic and glowing, that it is impossible for mortals upon earth to comprehend their beauty, or to experience the emotions of reverential delight and solemnity that a spirit feels while gazing upon the wonderful forms of nature, and listening to the rapturous melody of sound rising from birdlings’ throats, gurgling waters, and rustling leaves.

ADVENT OF A MORTAL INTO SPIRIT LIFE.

I will now describe to you, as well as I can, a beautiful scene I once witnessed, the memory of which runs through my spirit experience like a strain of music.

Not a great while ago, there dwelt on earth a young girl of about twenty years of age. Of delicate organization and slender mold, one could see that want and suffering had been no stranger to her. Her home was in one of your large cities, where, in an humble dwelling, she lived alone with her invalid mother, whom she supported by the fruits of her needle.

For years she had plied that slender instrument—which has indeed proved an instrument of torture to many a toiling, suffering woman—patient, resigned, and cheerful, as long as she could earn the necessities of life for her dear mother, who was unable to do much of anything for herself. It was thought that the mother would depart from the mortal life long before the daughter; but exposure to a heavy storm had given a severe cold to the poor girl, and in a few days she was pronounced dying with pneumonia.

Who can describe the terrible grief of the stricken mother as the labored breathing of her child told only too well that the end was near! But angels watched beside that humble bed, and when the last breath was drawn, they mercifully cast a spell of unconsciousness over the mother’s senses, while they gently bore the arisen spirit to a haven of rest.

In the midst of a charming spirit vale, where beautiful flowers bud and bloom, and fill the balmy air with fragrance, where the stately trees cast a pleasant shade over many a mossy bank, where glistening waters dash musically along between beds and thickets of roses, and where birds make music as they glance here and there in the soft and mellow light, there is a bower composed entirely of roses, red and white, which lift their regal heads and offer incense to the breeze. This bower has been constructed by loving angels for the resting-place of that beautiful spirit, whose illness and death I have just described.

Within the bower, upon a bed of dewy May-flowers and violets, the spirit form of the maiden reclines; she is robed in garments of white, arranged about her by ministering spirits.

She has been resting, drawing long draughts of health and strength from the flowers beneath and around her; the paleness disappears from her cheek, which loses its thin, attenuated appearance; the eyes no longer appear dim and sunken from exhaustion, but as they flash open, reveal a luster and beauty untold.

She starts, looks around, but perceiving the flowers, utters a low cry of rapture, and grasping the roses, May-flowers, and violets in her arms, she presses them to her bosom and buries her face in the rich fragrance of their leaves. Never before has she seen so many fresh and beautiful flowers together; never has she possessed so great a quantity of blossoms in her life; and she revels in their fragrant beauty with unmitigated delight.

But she is not long allowed to remain thus alone; loving spirits, gentle women, whose souls are all love and tenderness, enter the bower, and, taking the maiden by the hand, give her loving welcome in kindly words. She gazes upon them in delight; they appear to her the embodiment of all that is lovely and pure; and as they kindly greet her in her heavenly home, her spirit becomes filled with affection and gratitude for all that she sees.

Now she has recovered strength and is rested; her gentle companions bear her away from the bower of roses to a beautiful little cottage, embowered in flowers, which stands at the edge of the lovely valley. It is surrounded by a tiny flower garden, abounding with delicate colors and redolent with exquisite perfumes.

The cottage is open on the side, being composed of snowy lattice work, through which the golden sunbeams and the tender rose leaves stray. The interior of this little dwelling is daintily though simply furnished in white and azure, and all betoken it to be an abode of purity and simplicity. The new-comer is greeted at the entrance by a motherly, loving face, kindly hands out-stretched in greeting, and made to feel that she is indeed at home.

The ministering band of spirits who have thus far cared for the newly-arisen one, now leave her in the care of the motherly soul who has been awaiting her in the cottage home; and she immediately learns that this new friend is her own grandmother, who has been dead for many years. This is a home never dreamed of by the poor, working girl, and it seems almost like enchanted ground to her.

But a short time had passed since the spirit departed the body; she had lain in the bower of roses, tended by gentle missionary spirits; sunk in a semi-unconscious condition, but wrapped in a sense of ecstasy, very exquisite to the weary soul, until after the burial of her body, when she had been aroused and borne to her spirit home by her attendants.

Oh, how she enjoyed the sweet song of the birds, the balmy air and the fragrant flowers. The house she inhabited possessed no grand adornments; only white drapery, rustic yet graceful furniture, polished floors, here and there a tiny picture or bit of color within; climbing vines and fragrant flowers without; yet all was beautiful and sweet; and best of all, this pretty home had been reared bit by bit from the daily life of its occupant. Patience, self-sacrifice, devotion to an invalid parent, cheerfulness, and a spirit of perseverance, that faltered not in the midst of suffering, poverty, and affliction, together with an almost passionate love of the beautiful, had thrown out material from the life of this young girl that had been eagerly seized on by her spirit guides with which to rear her cottage home.

And within a tender grandmother had been domiciled to give her greeting and companionship. From the entrance of this little home, its occupants could look out, beyond the blooming garden, into the glowing valley, with its stately trees, its rippling brooks and mossy dells, with here and there a white homestead, around which gardens spread, and before the doors of which children made glad music. Nestling between two massive mountain ranges, the crags of which glowed in the sunlight like bronze, or deepened into purple radiance at twilight, the valley presented a scene of smiling peace and tranquility.

But you are not to think the girl, who had been borne from the cares of material life to this beautiful spot, had forgotten that invalid mother whom she had left to suffer earthly sorrow and care. Not so; her whole soul went out in love, sympathy, and longing toward that lonely parent, and guided by a slender cord of silvery light which, though invisible to others, yet was always visible to herself, and which extended from her own spirit home to the spot where her mother lay, she constantly returned to the side of her she loved so well, and by her ministrations soothed many a weary pain, and eased her mother’s passage to the spirit land.

She found that her mother had been removed from her former habitation to one of the wards of a hospital, and she—the spirit child—found among the nurses one whom she could influence to act tenderly towards the invalid under her care.

But it was not long that tenderness of earth was needed. The shock of her daughter’s sudden illness and death was too much for the poor invalid, and in one month from the decease of that daughter the mother joined her in the spirit world.

As I was privileged to be with the guardian band who had attended the younger spirit into the Higher Life, so I also had the privilege of being present at the spirit birth of the elder woman; but the first to greet her was that daughter who had preceded her to the immortal realms, and who now, radiant as an angel of light, returned to bear her mother to rest in her own sweet, little home.

The expressions of delight at her appearance from her mother first called the attention of the daughter to herself; for the first time since her change she discovered that she was no longer pale, wan, and weary-looking, but radiant, bright, and beautiful. With the self-devotion so natural to her, she had been so absorbed in her mother’s condition that she had no idea of the beauty which now enveloped her own being like a halo of light. These spirits,—mother and daughter,—with the noble grandmother, dwell happily together in their valley home; and their time is spent in doing good, and in influencing others to assist the needy and suffering.

Shall I speak of my surroundings in the Summer-Land? Shall I tell you of the beautiful city that we in the eternal world call Zencollia,—meaning, literally, “city of light,”—so called from the brilliant rays which are reflected back from its towers, minarets, and gleaming walls when the sunlight falls upon them? The spires and towers of this beautiful city gleam in the distance as I am seated by my eastern window. Its white walls, glistening with alabaster-like spotlessness, seem to tell of purity and peace.

A TEMPLE OF LEARNING.

Amid that wonderful array of exquisite workmanship a brazen temple arises, its massive dome seeming to crown the structure with a coronal of living light. This grand temple I have visited in company with dear brothers who have gained a comprehension of truth and knowledge in the wisdom-schools of spirit life, and who have become familiar with the interior of this shining temple from frequent attendance upon the instructive lectures delivered therein. The temple of learning in Zencollia is the most massive building I have ever beheld. It is surrounded by an open space paved with delicate pink and white tiles of shining, translucent stone. A flight of variegated marble steps leads to the vestibule, which is also paved with pink and white tiles.

The building contains four spacious halls, the finest of which is dedicated to Science, the second to Literature, the third to Metaphysics, and the fourth to Music. Each hall is furnished with roomy seats for the accommodation of the audience; a raised platform at the farther end, upon which stands a marble table, and a cushioned seat, something like a capacious sofa, serves for the accommodation of the speakers or instructors.

The floors are all paved with variegated marble,—white, streaked with delicate pink and sea green; the pillars are of carved ivory; the walls are adorned with beautiful paintings, representing some illustration of the nature of the work to which the hall is dedicated; while the lofty ceilings are frescoed in the faintest azure, white and gold.

One of my companions, a student in the hall of science, was eager for my admittance there as a spectator, which was soon obtained. At the time of my visit the seats were filled with a throng of people, young and old, and of both sexes. The lesson was on the laws of chemistry; and the speaker, a gentleman apparently forty years old, but whom my brother assured me had been in the spirit world many decades of years, had a number of strange-looking instruments before him, with which to illustrate his theme, and to prove the truth of his theories by experiments.

“Do you notice that gray-haired gentleman in front, the one with the high forehead, whose penetrating, searching gaze seems to be taking in every movement of the speaker?” whispered my companion. I nodded assent.

“That is Michael Faraday, the scientist; and I tell you he is as earnest a student as any of us; he attends all our conventions. He has been invited to take part in the exercises, but declines, preferring to study rather than teach. Oh, I tell you, Sis, a good many of earth’s smartest men come here or go to other places to learn, when they reach spirit life.”

The lesson of the day was very instructive, and the experiments interesting; but as they were new to me, and far advanced, I did not understand them very well.

“I’ll tell you what, Miss Ammidown,” said brother J., playfully, as I expressed my amazement at some of the results of the professor’s experiments, “I’ll bring you here when we have a lesson on Electrical Life, and you shall see the teacher produce some most wonderful results without the aid of instruments. You look incredulous; but, Kitty, that is only because you have been used to earthly, material instruments. Here we can make use of the currents of electricity without any such adjuncts. You shall witness some of my own private experiments some time. You have a great deal to learn yet.”

And, indeed, I felt like a child who had just entered into the wonderful arena of knowledge, and saw spread out before her strange sights, and heard strange sounds, which she could not comprehend, but which seemed deliciously clear and interesting to those around her. This was long ago, but the feeling clings to me yet; and I feel there is so much to learn and understand, one can never be idle.

HALL OF METAPHYSICS.

To the Hall of Metaphysics we wandered. Here the speaker was a female; but although the ideas she expressed were grand and beautiful, the language with which they were clothed was almost too abstruse for me.

“I brought you here, dear sister,” said my companion, “not because I expected you to understand the proceedings; you are too familiar with earthly expressions for that as yet; but that you might visit a place where those filled with lofty ideals concerning the soul, and its relations to life, meet to exchange thoughts and to learn of each other. Emerson^[4] will delight to frequent this place when he comes over to our side of life. We have scores of other places,” he continued, “where such teachers as Theodore Parker, Channing, and hundreds of like noble souls, hold forth with earnest utterance for the lifting up and sanctification of the people. These you can understand; and their teachings are generally delivered in some airy chamber or leafy grove, where all the surroundings and conditions are conducive to the worship of God. You will visit many of these with those who love you.”

THE HALL OF LITERATURE.

We did not tarry long in the Hall of Metaphysics. The teacher was grandly beautiful, clothed in flowing robes of classic style; her speech gently modulated; her gestures graceful; her mien earnest and convincing; and to those who understood she appeared to furnish a feast of good things. I felt humbly penitent, because I could not comprehend the whole; observing which, my guide hurried me away to the Hall of Literature.

Here I could appreciate, for I understood. The services were conducted by a number of men and women, who favored us with sketches of real life, not published, but what they had themselves witnessed; also readings from eminent authors, bits of rare, descriptive power, rich delineations of gifted writers, with extracts from their productions; followed by expressions of gorgeous imagery and brilliant passages of poetry. Here I was deeply interested, and the more so, because my companion pointed out to me the presence of gifted men and women, whose works I had admired and read on earth with never the hope of meeting them in person.

THE HALL OF MUSIC.

But I must hasten. With all the wonderful things I had seen and heard, what shall be said of the Hall of Music? The whole front of this spacious hall is a raised balcony, upon which the performers and choristers are generally seated.

Here we were joined by a dear sister, who I shall designate as May; like the May-flowers, she is beautiful and sweet; and hand clasped in hand, in silence,—and so far as I was concerned, in awe,—we listened to the enchanting strains of music evoked from stringed and keyed instruments, by the skillful fingers of their manipulators; and to the deep, rich tones, or bird-like, thrilling notes of the singers’ voices. I can never describe it. What I have said is but a faint type of all I witnessed in that marvelous temple; but the music!—the music was so grand, so powerful, so uplifting, and yet so sweet, so subtle, so enchanting, that I seemed floating away, with no thought but to soar upward to the very throne of Life and Love.

All petty affairs of life, all outward sense of existence melted away; and in the pure atmosphere of that celestial melody, my soul asserted itself in all its purest aspirations for the perfect completeness of life.

I love Zencollia for its divine harmony of sweet, inspiring music; and, oh, dear ones I love on earth, could you have been with me in spirit, my bliss would have been complete.

SOCIAL LIFE IN ZENCOLLIA.

In walking through the streets of beautiful Zencollia City, I have observed the perfect freedom of its inhabitants, the undisguised manner of living, the open frankness, and the confidence each one seems to repose in his neighbor, and also the unceremonious hospitality of each household; for every passer-by is welcome to enter, rest, refresh himself, and examine whatever excites an interest in his mind.

I have noticed this, because at first it appeared very strange to me—so at variance with the customs of mortals, who shut themselves up in their homes, becoming sometimes exclusive and ceremonious in their bearing toward others.

But I have learned that while it would be unwise and unsafe for mortals to leave their homes open to the inspection of every curious passer-by, and imprudent in the extreme for them to invite every stranger into their households, it is perfectly safe to do so in the spiritual city Zencollia, whose inhabitants are pure and spotless, who have become purged from all gross and carnal appetites and habits, who do not gossip and slander, who love each other, whose families are bound by the closest ties of tender sympathy and affection, and whose lives are so pure, so devoted to the welfare of others, they have nothing to conceal.

Every home is a shrine of prayerful praise; every family bows at the altar of Infinite Wisdom; each inhabitant has some lesson to repeat, or some experience to rehearse to the new-comer into these high spheres, that will be a guide to his feet; every habitation contains something of interest to the stranger who may have but recently ascended to the upper courts of Zencollia. And there is no risk in entertaining the stranger; for no impure, selfish, worldly-minded spirit can enter Zencollia; he could not breathe its refined atmosphere, the brilliancy of its light would blind him. For while it is true that exalted spirits can descend to lower spheres or conditions, where grossly-minded intelligences dwell, surrounded by the darkness which their mental state throws off, and there minister to the necessities of those earth-bound souls, yet it is as impossible for those spirits to ascend to the upper heights as it is for mortals to pierce the heavenly worlds with their material bodies; for as the physical keeps you down to earth, so the weight of passion keeps those spirits down.

Therefore, no impure spirit enters Zencollia, and none who dwell there fear to entertain the stranger, for all the inhabitants of that celestial city are possessed of clear vision, and they can readily read the interior thought and desire of whoever comes within their sphere.

The dwellers in that happy city associate together in groups, all working for the common good; each obeys the law which all assist in framing; everyone contributes to the welfare of the people, the beautifying of the city, the maintaining of free, open schools of instruction, and in upholding a good government.

I have often thought of the beauty and glory of this sweet life, wishing that I could cause mortals to view it as I do,—to view and to emulate, to bring down something of its happy conditions to earth; for then there would be no need of prison-walls, no cause for corporeal punishment, but love and justice would reign supreme, and the millennium, long foretold by prophet and seer, dawn upon the new earth.

INTERIOR VIEW OF ZENCOLLIA.

Zencollia, “City of Light,” the sight of thy white walls, gleaming in the distance, recalls a vision of thy beautiful streets, so unlike the city streets that mortals know. No jarring noise disturbs the serenity of thy places; and yet the ceaseless murmur, the ever-present appearance of active, energetic life within thy limits, proclaim that therein is found sentient, individualized, conscious existence.

The edifices so beautifully constructed of shining stone, artistically adorned with carvings of exquisite grace and symmetry, do not crowd and elbow each other for want of space; but each building stands within its own enclosure, surrounded by garden plats and banks of emerald green. Lofty trees, whose umbrageous foliage furnishes a cooling shade, are scattered here and there, giving an aspect of natural beauty to the scene. The very streets, though paved through their centres with polished stones, are fringed on either side with grassy leaves and nodding flowers, which no careless foot seeks to trample down.

And yet, it is a city, vast and magnificent. Its massive buildings, its countless inhabitants, all mark the difference between it and the town or country. At regular spaces, great plats, enclosing flowery beds of every variety of color and perfume; tiny lakes and gushing fountains; gleaming pavilions, furnished with rustic seats and tables; small groves of shade trees, tiny grottoes and fairy glens, where birds make music through all the sunny day—are kept under constant care and cultivation for the enjoyment of all who wander therein; and it is no uncommon thing for groups of harmonious spirits to gather together in one of these gardens, and spend an hour in that communion of soul expressed in the singing of hymns, the exhortations from inspired lips, or the encouraging words given from one to another, that lift the spirit still nearer the Infinite Light that pervades in some measure all space and permeates all life.