How I Know that the Dead are Alive

Google

This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project

to make the world's books discoverable online.

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books

are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover.

Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the

publisher to a library and finally to you.

Usage guidelines

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing tliis resource, we liave taken steps to
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.
We also ask that you:

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for
personal, non-commercial purposes.

+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.

+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for in forming people about this project and helping them find
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it.

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe.

About Google Book Search

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web

at |http: //books .google .com/I

ibyGoogle

p

WiLUAM B. Cairns Collechon

Of

American Women Writers

1650-1920

WiLUAM B. CaKNS

Professor of Engush
Univebetty of Wisconsin-Madison

oogic

,Gpogle

ibyGoogle

ibyGoogle

ib.Google

ibyGoogle

Fanny Ruthven Paget, Houston, Texas,

D,g,tze:JbiGOOt^lC

How I Know that the
Dead Are Alive

PUBLISHED 1917

i by Google

ibyGoogle

CHAm? '
I

^77ic0S

CONTENTS.

Lifting the Veil.
II The Visible and Invisible.

III "Never Less Alone Than When

Alone."

IV Shadows of Night.

V Forging Links in the Chain.
VI With the Coming of the Dawn.
VII A Day With the Invisibles at Sea.
VIII A Chill-Laden Promise.
IX As the Fatal Night Comes and Goes.
X Weaving Tangled Threads of Mys-
tery.
XI The "Choir Invisible."
XII Defining Soul and Body.

XIII Visions. Love Spiritualized By Death.

XIV Back Across the Dark Span.
XV Writing.

XVI Soul and Body In Process of Separa-
tion.
XVII Gethsemane.
XVIII Passing Into the Beyond.
XIX Over the Borderland.
XX The Red Darkens.
XXI The "Power House" of Existence.
XXII Panorama of Life As Lived On Earth.

XXIII Mundane Readjustment.

XXIV Mundane and Supermundane Rela-

tionship.
XXV The Link of Infinitude.
XXVI Atoms of Life Unifying With the

Source of Life.
XXVII A Soul Relinking With Earth.
XXVIII As the Todays Became Yesterdays.

ibyGoogle

ibyGoogle

FOREWORD. ;

"Fools deride — philosophers investigate."

In writing this book I am yielding to a sense of
duty, that impels me to offer to the thinking and
reading public, a series of incidents, embracing psy-
chological experiences, that came to me as unsought
and unasked as I am giving them to those who care
to avail themselves of the reading thereof; and no
matter how adversely their lack of sequence may im-
press the reader, they impressed the writer similarly
when they intruded themselves upon her discrimi-
nating mentality.

When evidence of this mysterious force first mani-
fested itself, May 21st, 1911, I was an avowed non-
believer in religion of any kind, with little knowledge
and less toleration of all things supernatural. Natu-
rally, deep impressions resulted and my viewpoint
veered around in harmony with demonstrated facts,
but I have no "Isms" to inflict on those who read.
I am simply recording a chain of incidents just as
they came to me in all their mystery-laden weirdness,
without intent of interfering with the desire, belief
or faith of any one, as I have even less respect for
the person who changes his opinions with every op-
portunity than I have for the pent-up, fossilized mind
that admits its limitations by never changing. My
hope is that the reader will maintain an open mind
throughout the reading and then investigate the sub-
ject thoroughly for himself, as knowledge is never
really knowledge unless we know for ourselves, to
which this subject lends itself admirably, for where
it is concerned one either knows or does not know.

i by Google

From the inception of these phenomena to the
writing of this book I have respected a constraint not
to read books or writings on the subject; therefore,
it is needless for me to say that I am. not affiliated
with, nor am I writing under, the auspices of any
person, sect, cult or society.

The conscious continuity of life after death has al-
ways been attested by the universal instinct and be-
lieved by nearly every one, as it is the foundation of
all religions. Unfortunately, it has been so shrouded
in mystery and uncertainty that its solution has en-
gaged the prophets, sages and philosophers since be-
fore the Father of Wisdom said "There is nothing
new under the sun" to this, our very materialistic
present; during which time there has been such a
persistence of evidence that we are compelled to ad-
mit that there is something, somewhere, not dreamt
of in our materialistic philosophy.

i by Google

CHAPTER I
LIFTING THE VEIL.

"There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Hora-
tio, than are dreamt of in your phiiosophy."

"Are you afraid?" came distinctly above the "rattle
of the rail" causing me to look up in quick appre-
hension from the newspaper I was reading and move
my eyes inquiringly about the coach. The equanimity
of the other passengers so surprised and puzzled
me, that, somewhat embarrassed at having started up
and stared around without any apparent reason, I
lowered my eyes and settled down in the most pro-
found perplexity, asking myself what it could mean.
Unquestionably I had heard it, as I remembered not
only the words but the very tone in which they had
been uttered, despite all of which there was no evi-
dence of any one having spoken nor did any one ap-
pear to have heard. The voice was as distinctly hu-
man as any I had ever heard but no person in the
coach evidenced the slightest interest in what had
been said. I was alone in the seat but the voice
seemed loud and distinct enough to have been heard
by those in the adjacent ones — why had they not
heard? A sense of the mysterious began creeping
upon me under which I became quite perturbed and
more determined upon a satisfactory solution of what
then seemed the-most unaccountable thing conceiv-
able.

After revolving the matter in my mind for a few
minutes, still deeply perplexed, I again turned in
my seat, which was near the front and faced the

i by Google

8 How I Knojw That

rear, manifesting as little concern in so doing as was
possible under a condition so at variance with equi-
librium of mind and manner, and scrutinized the face
of every one in the coach all of whom were con-
cerned, apparently, only with their own thoughts or
conversations. That the sentence had not emanated
from any of the passengers was as conclusive as the
conviction that they not heard. I was none the less
positive that I haj heard.

Then I began to analyze it — to put the search light
of reason on it — by what process could I have heard
to the exclusion of others confined equally within the
sound area? I could feel my positiveness neutralizing
— my mind beginning to fluctuate between doubt and
assurance. One minute I was positive I had heard it
— the next admitting the impossibility of it. When
confirmation in the negative was needed the serenity
of the passengers gave it, as I was sufficiently a stu-
dent of humanity to know that if that number of per-
sons had heard a sentence of such import with no ex-
planation as to the source of it, all would not possess
the self control requisite for such outward calm. But
when I looked away out of the window on the calm
face of nature there was something that renewed as-
surance — something that seemed to fasten the reality
of it on my soul. It was a problem I could neither
shake of? nor solve.

Torn by the conflict of it I became restless, ill at
ease and so generally uncomfortable that I removed
my hat and gloves (which I often do when traveling)
and after putting them in the rack, settled down with
the determination of dismissing the entire matter,
trying to convince myself that I was coping with a
delusion — lending myself to the most unreasonable
fancies. All of which was useless — it would not down

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 9

— it haunted me with disconcerting persistency —
in the midst of my denials of its existence I was con-
scious of wondering if it was not a warning of a train
wreck and of remembering that I had read of such
things.

Had I been of an imaginative temperament or ad-
dicted to belief in the supernatural, occult or kindred
subjects, I would doubtless have been spared much
of the perplexing conjectures which involved me but
I had always prided myself on my "strong minded-
ness,'* so much so that even the mysteries of religion
did not appeal to nor impress me. At that time I was
an avowed Atheist with only patronizing pity for
those less free in thought. Science, so called, domi-
nated me, shaping my thoughts and actions in all
things. That which I could not weigh, measure, sec
nor feel did not exist for me. I was skeptical of all
things that could not be measured by the yard-stick
of science and here I was, confronted with something
that brought the realization that the aforesaid yard-
stick was lamentably inadequate to the demand made
upon it No, no, this was an impossible conclusion —
I could not accept it and tried earnestly to formulate
some scientific explanation for the phenomenon but
this being impossible, I determined to dismiss it — let
it go unsolved in so far as I was concerned. How
foolish it seemed that I had permitted myself to in-
dulge in such a mental upheaval all because of some
unaccountable freak of fancy — a figment of the im-
agination.

Forcibly dismissing the subject I gathered up the
bulky Sunday paper and resumed reading with a
forced interest, accompanying which was a minor
chord of pride, of being well pleased with myself
that my allegiance to so-called science had withstood

i by Google

lO How I Know That

such an acid test and feeling that never again would
I give a moment's consideration to anything so ab-
surd as a voice coming out of space and projecting
words as it came. I could have laughed at the in-
congruity of it.

And then — suddenly a cold touch was upon my
hand and looking I started violently — stared at a
detached, shadowy hand, hovering over mine and
long spectral fingers closing gently over it, taking my
hand within their grasp. My first impulse was to
draw it hastily away but something seemed to hold
it where it was, as the paper slipped from my nerve-
less fingers, rattling noisily as it fell, partly on the
floor and partly in my lap. Awe held every muscle
rigid and an unearthly coldness was upon me. I
could feel the blood leaving my face and the strength
oozing out of my body as I sat petrified, with eyes
fixed upon the weird hand as it took mine into its
cold clasp, pressed it gently, as in the act of shaking
hands, and vanished. My hand, numb and weak be-
yond my ability to control, fell unrestrained into my
lap, where it lay listlessly, palm up, on the crumpled
paper, my eyes still fastened upon it, awaiting yet
shrinking from further developments. - Nothing
eventuated.

Slowly I relaxed, thawed out, as it were, and began
to wonder if any of the other passengers had seen the
hand but did not dare to look around lest my face
betray my emotion, realizing that such a hurricane
within must have its storm signals without. With
this realization I began suppressing any outward
evidence of emotion and gathering up the paper set-
tled myself back in a more or less studied attitude of
composure, pretending to read, while I thought it
out — ^trying to square sanity with such a happening.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 1 1

Suddenly I was conscious of the most startling thing
imaginable — I was not alone in the seat I An intan-
gible presence, indefinable yet existent was beside
me, so near that I could have reached out my hand
and have touched it (be assured that I didn't). A
heavy coldness oppressed me, little breaths of air
fanned my face, hands and feet, sending cold waves
of apprehension into every nerve, as I perceived the
presence moving, space by space, nearer to me, almost
overcoming me with awe.

It was touching me — soft touches came upon my
hand, at first not heavier than the falling of a feather
but gradually increasing to perceptible indentations,
which I could feel. and see, in so far as the indenta-
tions were concerned, but could not see the cau*« that
produced them. When the indentations on the hand
ceased, I could see shadowy fingers, so transparent
as to be scarcely perceptible, more of a suggestion
than a reality, moving up my arm, touching lightly
as they went. A moment later I felt them distinctly
on my face, first on the forehead, then, in a patting,
caressing way, on the cheeks. At every point of con-
tact a cold impression remained, despite the fact that
the spectral fingers had become humanly warm,
which outweighed in "crecpincss" the touch of the
cold.

Distinctly came the impression as of an open hand
passing over my hair, as though smoothing it back in
a caressing way (producing anything but a caressing
effect). My whole being seemed slipping into un-
consciousness, as I struggled against the perturbing
mystery, trying to keep ever uppermost in my mind
that I was not alone but one of many passengers and
must therefore regulate my actions accordingly,
maintaining outward calm regardless of what was

ib.Googlc

12 How I Kjiow That

raging within, which seemed the most trying test
ever put upon my self control, especially so when
that great, weird, awe-inspiring presence came nearer
and nearer, until I could feel its body pressing heavi-
ly against mine as it stood beside me. As I waited
in agonized suspense two hands, instead of one, were
caressing my hair, then two cold palms were taking
my face between themselves — after a moment there
was a gentle lifting pressure and I knew my head
was being thrown back — my face lifted. I looked
up and caught the faintest glimpse of dark, luminous,
detached eyes looking down into mine — the eyes
were all I saw — the outline of the face shading into
nothingness.

I could feel the pressure withdraw and lowered
my eyes quickly, turning my face away toward the
window, fearing it mirrored my agitation of mind,
which might subject me to the criticism to any who
might be observing. Thus I sat rigidly — almost in-
capable of movement, held apparently by a power
stronger than my ability to move or to think coherent-
ly; therefore, for the time being, I did neither, while
ardently desiring to do both. Meantime that un-
earthly being in all of its weird persistence, pressed
its touches, its caresses upon me until awe merged
into resignation and resignation into indifference — a
feeling that I must endure that which I was power-
less to control.

With the coming of this resignation the shadowy
fingers ceased their manipulations, the weird pres-
ence sat down beside me. I knew it was there — could
have put my hand upon it without looking around,
but instead with my hand resting on the window sill
I continued to look straight out over the green fields
and the grazing cattle, not daring to think or trying

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 13

to explain it to myself — even then I realized it was
the one thing of all things I preferred not accepting
— the demonstrated existence of the so-called super-
natural.

This most undesirable mental constraint was inter-
rupted by a voice, softly calling my name — "Fanny."
Instinctively I turned toward the presence beside me
in a listening attitude without even a suggestion of
fear or uncertainty. The mystery of the voice was
solved.

For some seconds I waited in listening attitude but
as nothing further was said, I relaxed and would have
resumed my position, looking out the window, but
was arrested by a voice in pleasant challenge :

"You were not afraid, were you?"

"No ; but woefully mystified," I answered mental-
ly, that is thought it, feeling that if this apparition,
creature, being, ghost or goblin, or whatever it was,
could not hear without my attracting the attention
of the passengers by speaking aloud to that which
was to them not only unseen but unrecognizable in
any way, conversation would either have to be dis-
pensed with entirely or conducted on a one-sided basis,
as it was very evident that I alone heard the voice or
was conscious of the presence. However, to thorough-
ly satisfy myself on this point I looked the passengers
over carefully again confirming my conclusion,
which, while it increased the mystery, was a mental
relief, as I felt that I could better cope with it alone
than to attract attention to that which I could not
any more explain to myself than I could to any one
else.

I wondered somewhat resentfully why I had been
left to puzzle and conjecture over the source of the
voice, when evidently the author of it was there all

i by Google

14 How I Know That

the time and could have spared me the mental dis-
turbance to which I had been subjected. My thoughts
were answered as though I had spoken.

"It was better so."

My grievance vanished at the sound of the voice,
so human, clear and distinct that the strangeness
grew upon me that I was the only one who could hear
it — it seemed so unreasonable. Again my thought
was answered:

"When you understand it will no longer seem
strange."

"It is strange enough now," I mentally ejaculated,
as I settled back resigned to anything that might
eventuate, which was evidently an ideal condition for
the furtherance of this mode of conversation, as the
voice began instantly:

"He is waiting for you." This not only surprised
but interested me. I knew the reference was made to
my fiance who was waiting at the Grand Central De-
pot in Houston to meet me upon my arrival in that
city where I was enroute to spend the day at his in-
vitation. My thoughts went so absorbingly to the
object in question that I ignored the presence until a
touch on the arm came as a reminder that I had with-
drawn my attention while it was yet required. I re-
sumed the listening attitude and the voice continued
as though uninterrupted ;

"He is not coming home for some time." While
I did not know just when he would return I knew it
vras not unlikely that he would be detained many
days from home, as he was of those who "sat at cards"
in the political game, the issue of which, at that time,
was of state-wide importance, requiring his presence
in the various sections of the state and leaving little
time for aught else.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 15

Here I beg pardon for introducing that which is
seemingly irrelevant to the subject but as the seen and
the unseen are so intimately interwoven it is almost
impossible to treat of one without including the
other, especially so, when one is retailing one's per-
sonal experiences, where everything points to the mun-
dane and supermundane in their relation to each
other as "parts of one stupendous whole," by the very
nature of which there are other personalities yet to
be incorporated for which I apologize in advance.

Nothing would please me more than the elimina-
tion of the personal pronoun / in this writing, but the
sense of duty that impels me to write requires even
more — that my soul be bared to those who read and
as it is a very sensitive soul I would ask my readers
to be, at least, charitable with it, as it shrinks at every
page in retailing that which should doubtless remain
sacred only to itself, but I cannot tear out of my con-
sciousness the conviction that there are those who see
the light dimly and will thank me for daring to give
utterance to that which most of us would lock up
within the secret recesses of our hearts with fear and
trembling lest some one find it out and criticise.

My spectral visitor, evidently knowing the subject
most interesting to me, went on speaking of my hus-
band-to-be and his political affairs, as one who knows,
disclosing many things of vital importance affecting
his interests, to which it is needless to say, I listened
most absorbingly, ever marveling at the wonder of it.
Thus I listened uninterruptedly until I perceived
the train slowing down and looked out the win-
dow into the blue-gray eyes of my fiance and
bowed in recognition as he did in return. The
train having stopped, I arose and as the pres-
ence was between me and the aisle, hesitated as in-

i by Google

i6 How I Know That

stinctively as though it were a human being, but
as this sense of obstruction passed almost instantly,
I filed out and down the aisle along with the other
passengers, hoping that I bore no visible evidence of
having undergone one of the most mysterious ex-
periences that could possibly incorporate itself into
an otherwise ordinary railroad journey of less than
two hours.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive

CHAPTER II
THE VISIBLE AND INVISIBLE.

After exchanging greetings with my fiance and his
secretary I accompanied them to the Brazos Hotel,
across from the depot. In a few minutes we had
turned one of the parlors into an impromptu business
office where he read the telegrams, letters, etc., I had
brought with me from his Galveston office.

While he dictated answers to his secretary, a soft
voice came apologetically:

"Do I intrude?"

"No," I made answer, as I was in no way engaged
except as an audience to a dictating party in which
I had no part, and felt that I had just as well listen to
this mystery-laden voice as to sit there thinking of
nothing else — how could I think of anything else with
the mystery of it so fresh in my mind?

The voice went on speaking in the most business-
like manner making me wonder at the knowledge it
displayed as to the contents of the letters and before
the answer was dictated anticipated accurately what
it was to be, adding a preview as to the final outcome
of the correspondence.

I was glad when it was all over and we adjourned
to the dining room for lunch, feeling relief to be re-
moved from its incessant talking and prognostica-
tions. But fancy my surprise when I perceived the
invisible presence occupying the one vacant chair at
the table I In an effort to shut out cognizance of its
existence, I launched into a spirited political argu-
ment in which all three became so interested that I
did forget the presence until while laughing at a

i by Google

1 8 How I Know That

witticism I was startled by soft rippling laughter,
joining in our mirth, so human that it seemed incon-
ceivable for it to have emanated from a presence not
of earth. Something like a shiver ran through me as
I looked at the place where I knew the presence was
— all I saw was the faintest glimpse of shadowy fin-
gers hovering over the white cloth — a ghost a member
of a luncheon party I It was with something of an
effort I again took up the thread of the suddenly sus-
pended argument, simulating an interest I was far
from feeling, as I could not get away from the trav-
esty of a "dead" person, sitting as though dining with
the "living," for such seemed to me the only solu-
tion of the mystery.

In the afternoon we went to the theatre. The per-
formance consumed more time than we had antici-
pated, and on coming out found we had only a few
minutes in which to reach the depot in time for the
train. As we hurried along the voice came distinctly,
"Don't worry — don't worry — you will get there in
time." I just did. I had scarcely settled myself in
the seat when the train moved out.

Tired? I do not think I was ever quite so tired in
my life, mentally and physically. My mind was sur-
feited with strange food for conjecture — enough to
last a lifetime ; and yet there beside me, clothed in all
its alluring weirdness was that mysterious being from
somewhere beyond the mundane — a being from the
impenetrable shadows far out beyond the explora-
tions of man — waiting to add to the burden already
laid upon my consciousness. I resented it, holding
myself aloof from even the admission that it was
there — I wanted to rest — to get away from it until
understanding could cope with it The strain of

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 19

shutting it out was nerve-racking, and finally I gave
up, relaxed and listened.

"I am here," came with gentle promptness.

I sighed aloud and mentally cried out:

"What is the meaning of it — what will be the out-
come of it — is it madness?"

A pained voice smote my consciousness :

"If you command it I will withdraw myself from
your consciousness and never enter it again."

"Oh, no; no;" I cried, adding apologetically, "I
ani tired — very tired — let me rest and then you can
explain everything and I will be no longer mystified."

"Rest be thine — when you call I'U be waiting."

With a sense of relief I lay back on the seat with
closed eyes and rest came with a sensation of being
lifted out of or above the weariness by a process new
to me. By thus relaxing I had fallen into harmonious
psychological vibrations that rested by a mental
rather than physical process and while still marveling
at the pleasant effectiveness of it, I realized I was no
longer weary but in perfect harmony with life and
all its conditions. There was a new joy — a new light
burning somewhere within me, flooding my soul with
a radiance that was as beautiful as it was inexplic-
able. I seemed to have touched something I had
never touched before ; a new gate had opened and I
had entered in.

With this new joyousness singing in my soul, I
listened (my latest accomplishment). Such a simple
little act when once acquired — this obscuring the
physical and opening the consciousness to the spirit-
ual! In the cadence of music came the voice:

"Blessed be the rest that giveth thy soul into com-
munion above the earth."

"Who are you?" I questioned.

i by Google

20 How I Know That

"That also you will know."

While this was anything but a satisfactory answer
there was something that pressed against further
questioning and I waited for the voice to take the
initiative in the conversation, which it did by asking:

"Shall I tell you some things that will convince you
that I am thoroughly acquainted with your life?"

"I shall be pleased to be convinced," I made as-
surance.

"So you shall be," came the voice solemnly.

The voice, in a retrospective tone, went back, far
back, invading childhood, to the very first records of
memory's tablet and came on down, incident by inci-
dent, chapter by chapter, to the very present, giving
dates, names and figures, speaking frankly of personal
matters, giving voice to that which had never been
spoken — that which my inner consciousness retained
and held sacred.

It is impossible to conceive of the effect such a rev-
elation can have on one. It produced a veritable
whirl of conflicting emotions but the candid inoffen-
siveness of the voice smoothed away every emotion
except wonder. And truly it was wonderful.

When the resume had ended there was a pause in
which I felt awkward and ill at ease — the voice was
hushed and I was so astounded by what I had heard
that there seemed nothing to say — it had all been
said. Suddenly a thought came and floated into
speech :

"Could you hew so close to the line as to the
future?"

"Yes; shall I proceed?"

As I was opening my consciousness to say "yes,"
an icy wave struck me dumb; a cold shivering sen-
sation engulfed me; apprehension held me like a vice

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 21

as I struggled to free myself that I might answer
"no." In the midst of which the pressure suddenly
lifted and I cried beseechingly (mentally) :

"Oh, don't — please don't."

Quite in contrast to my agitated appeal the voice
replied in a soft, dreamy way:

"It is better so."

Unaccountably depressed I turned my face to the
window, where the cool breeze fanned it, as I looked
out at the moon and the first stars of the evening and
I remember thinking, with a sense of gratitude that
they, at least, were unchanged, for somehow it seemed
to me that everything — life itself — had changed with-
in the last few hours. Then I was asking myself:
why did I shrink from the knowledge of what the
future had to give; why these shivers of foreboding
in every nerve? A voice chimed cheerily into the
depression, which vanished as the dew before the sun :

" 'Laugh and the world laughs with you' — you
know the rest — this applies equally to the spirit
world."

"Spirit world," I echoed, half wonderingly. "It
must be a spirit," I mused almost forgetful of the
presence, until it interrupted:

"Now I want you to listen attentively."

"At your service," I hastened to assure, as I
changed the aural gear from the physical into the
spiritual.

The voice began, so human in its every accent that
still I marveled at it. From the ordinary tone it be-
gan alternating high, low; harsh, gentle; soft, loud;
and while I wondered at such a proceeding, it quoted
softly in a far away, dreamy voice :

i by Google

22 How I Know That

"How pure in heart and sound in head,
With what affections bold,
Should be the man whose thoughts would hold
An hour's communion with the dead."

*'The dead," I mused and fell under the spell of its
awesomeness, from which I was awakened abruptly
by the voice screaming into my consciousness :

"Who wrote that?"

"I don't know," I cried, "but for mercy's sake don't
deafen me with your vocal gymnastics — it hurts."

"Wonderful — wonderful," purred the voice, "How
sensitive your hearing is — and you really could dis-
criminate as to the tones?"

"Every variation," I replied.

"Why did you not say so before?"

"I thought you knew."

"I was sounding your sensitiveness to ascertain to
what extent it could be relied on."

"I could hear your voice, in its every intonation,
as well as any human voice."

"Marvelous — marvelous."

My companion was evidently delighted, which fact
pleased me and we entered into conversation as un-
reservedly as any two earth beings.

To avoid any misconception as to the modus oper-
andi of such conversation it may be well to explain
that my questions and answers were given at all times
mentally and under no circumstance did I ever speak
aloud, while the voice speaking to me had the same
sound and tone as a person speaking in ordinary con-
versation. Hereafter when I say "I said," etc., un-
derstand that I simply think and it is heard just as
though I had spoken, as thought is the language of
souls. Had it been otherwise I would not be writing

i by Google

The Dead Are AUve 23

this as I would have foregone the privilege of such
communion rather than make myself worse than
ridiculous by speaking aloud to that which to the
material senses has no existence; it would bear the
semblance of madness.

This process of hearing is like, yet wondrously un-
like, its physical application. In automobile parlance
it might be described as "changing gears," which is
accomplished by reversing the connecting link which
holds automatic connection between the physical and
the inner consciousness, and which by a mental pro-
cess can be thrown .out of automatic harmony with
the physical as effectively as the physical, under ordi-
nary conditions, shuts out the spiritual. By this re-
versal the spiritual hearing, which is from within,
transmits itself to the physical sense instead of vice
versa — to the receiving senses the sound of the voice
is the same. When once the right connection is un-
derstood and established this mode of hearing is as
easy and spontaneous as the physical — it is all a mat-
ter of proper connection with the right vibrations.

To illustrate : the paraphernalia of a wireless station
would remain forever without receiving a message
if not properly connected, but put it in harmony with
like vibrations and messages result. We are all, more
or less, unconnected paraphernalia. The same prin-
ciple applies to the telegraph, telephone, electric
lights, gas and other things that come under our daily
observation. Everything depends on proper con-
nection.

The spiritual hearing, which is a transmission of
voice through the soul consciousness to the physical
sense requires as much direction in the accomplish-
ment thereof as the physical, contrary to the general-
ly accepted theory that total relaxation or mental

i by Google

24 How I Know That

blankness is the ideal condition — it is a listening
from within instead of without.

Who has not, in supposed fancy, heard some one
call his or her name, and, listening, hears nothing?
However, at the instant of the hearing spiritual con-
nection existed but the physical act of listening throws
the connection back into the physical.

Conscious harmony or understanding should be
established and maintained between soul and body,
realizing that they are separate and distinct entities
— that the body is the servant of the soul and subject
at all times to its direction. The body belongs to the
soul instead of the soul belonging to the body. The
soul lives after the body is dust. It is the Soul, the
Inner Self or Spirit within the physical body that
communicates with the disembodied spirits and
transmits their voices to the physical sense.

As I listened to the voice as it went on and on I
realized in all its fullness that I was in actual com-
munication with a being from the other side of life —
one who had solved the mystery of what we call death
and I was conscious of a feeling almost new to me —
humility. I wondered why, after I had so persistent-
ly denied and openly ridiculed the supernatural in
all its phases, that so wonderful a demonstration
of its existence would be made to me. My previous
attitude in these premises made me almost afraid in
the presence of the reality of that which I had always
denied and a sense of unworthiness weighed heavily
upon me. A voice soft as music wafted into my
troubled consciousness :

"Why not rather rejoice that you have been given
to know that which you refused to believe blindly?"

"It would be better, no doubt," I admitted, and

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 25

wrapping myself in silent meditation, sat engrossed
until the voice startled me:

"We are crossing the bridge."

"So we are," I acquiesced as I looked out over the
bay, beautiful in the moonlight and rather turbulent
for a day so calm, and so I sat staring, dreaming
until the water gave place to the land and the clang-
ing, stopping train called me from dreaminess into
the realm of reality.

A few minutes later I was pressing my way through
the usual Sunday excursion crowd, and soon had
reached the automobile and was driven quickly home.

i by Google

26 Hoiv I Know That

CHAPTER III.

"NEVER LESS ALONE THAN WHEN
ALONL"

After entering my apartments and locking myself
in I had the impression of not being alone, which
caused me to remain near the door I had entered,
wondering if any one was concealed within. This
was not a pleasant contemplation to one who had
never quite outgrown that indefinable awe of the
darkness which night brings and fastens upon our
childhood. At first I did not consider this sensation
as embracing a being of the invisible, but after a
moment's reflection, that it did was testified to by a
voice saying calmly:

"I am here."

While I half expected to hear the voice it startled
me and I cannot say I was entirely pleased, to have
this mysterious presence alone with me at night with
no living thing near. It was well enough during the
day in the presence of others but now to be locked in
alone with it in the still watches of the night was
something quite different — a difference one would
have to experience to appreciate.

After deliberating a moment I moved cautiously
into the middle of the room, where I stood trembling
in a coldness so intense it was like standing in a re-
frigerator, this, too, in the latter part of May, after
rather a warm day. Still combating the impulse to
run headlong out of the room, I stood transfixed,
looking about in an agony of awed suspense, cringing
from I knew not what — some indefinable something
that I knew was there somewhere — something against

ibyGOOgfe

The Dead Are Alive 27

which I had no means of defending myself. I do not
know how long I stood there before the realization
came upon me that I must do something to break the
thrall which held me — that I could not stand there
all night experiencing an awe that paralyzed with
every pulsebeat. "Their fears are most who know
not what they fear."

Almost mechanically I began slowly pulling off
my gloves ; and, fastening them together, tossed them
on a nearby chair. I then removed my hat, stepped
nearer to the chair and placed it with something of
precision upon the gloves. One of the hat pins fell
and rolled to the floor with a noise that in the dense
stillness sounded like a bomb explosion and startled
me most distressingly.

With a sudden impulse of daring I passed hurriedly
out of the room into the dressing room beyond, where
I stopped short, dismayed in the semi-darkness by
the sensation of many eyes upon me. I sank into a
chair, almost overcome by the many-sided mystery
that pressed in upon me on every side, and, summon-
ing the fragment of remaining courage, I looked
about the room and was astounded at the apparitions,
ghosts, spirits — or what you will — there they were in
all stages of materialization, with white clouds play-
ing amongst them, in which floated white, transpar-
ent hands and glimpses of faces and forms dimly dis-
cernible — and eyes — such eyes I

I could hear soft footfalls, on the floor, as they
moved about, and knocks coming from everywhere;
could feel touches and hear whispers — voices calling
my name in a pleading way. A cold breeze was stir-
ring about the room and a numbness was upon me as
I closed my eyes to shut out the sight. But a sense
of drowsiness warned against possible unconscious-

D,g,tze:Jbi Google

28 Hoia I Know That

ness, which spurred me into action. It was with con-
siderable efiort that I dragged myself out of the chair
and walked, weak and trembling, into the bed room»
and stood beside the South window where the gulf
breezes exercised a reviving effect

As I looked out on the calm beauty of the night, I
gradually shook off the awesome condition that en-
thralled me and could have laughed at myself for
what seemed foolish fears and fancies and was
ashamed of having indulged such demoralizing pro-
pensities as I admitted myself guilty of. In an effort
to shake it off entirely I repeated to myself a number
of times, "I am alone in this room," even trying to
exclude in thought the one presence I knew to be
there somewhere. To further this self deception I
fixed my thoughts upon the events of the day, the
pleasures thereof, crediting to fancy the visitor of
mystery, and gradually filling my mind with thoughts
of my beloved to the exclusion of all things else.
When I felt myself master of the situation, I walked
with proud unconcern into the dressing room and be-
gan preparations for retirement, my thoughts filled
with something more tangible than ghosts and such
things, which I kept consciously shut out of my
mentality.

I had a most distressing time unhooking the close-
ranged hooks and eyes on my dress that fastened up
the back and as I labored with it I could feel hands
touching mine, as though assisting in the operation,
yet I stubbornly ignored that which I knew would
demoralize if recognized and proceeded as placidly
as such an enforced attitude would permit.

No sooner were my shoulders bared than an open
hand, humanly warm, pressed upon one shoulder
and passed perceptibly across the back to the other.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 29

In a paroxysm of fear I drew my waist hastily up
over my shoulders and sat down utterly overcome.
Such an unpardonable liberty for even a ghost to take
and the fact that he had the daring and the ability to
execute it, was sufficient to frighten one less timid
than myself.

Again came the oppressive sense of many eyes
upon me, making me ashamed of being partly un-
dressed and I began forthwith repairing the cause
of my embarassment, with the determination of leav-
ing the house and spending the remainder of the night
at a hotel, feeling it impossible to remain all night,
alone, with that spectral horde — beings to whom
locks and keys were as nothing. I could not restrain
the tears as I made preparations for this unexplain-
able exit from the house in the dead hours of night
but proceeded with unwavering resolution, until a
hand came upon my arm and I heard a reproachful
voice saying:

"Fanny, don't you know we will not harm you?"

"Unfortunately, I do not kno-w it," I responded,
somewhat bitterly.

"Aren't you ashamed of such cowardice?"

"But why have so many come?" I persisted.

"Attracted by your ability to recognize and com-
municate with them. They are rejoicing and are
here to welcome you. Do not wound them by being
afraid."

"I am not afraid now," I replied, feeling some-
thing like a return of equilibrium, if not of entire as-
surance. Encouraged by my attitude of neutrality
they renewed their advances, perceptibly increasing
in numbers as the room increased in chilliness. Plead-
ing voices came, "Listen to me, please" — some gave
names, others were trying to tell of incidents, names,

i by Google

30 How I Know That

dates, days qi the week, of the year and of the
month indiscriminately. It was useless to try to dis-
criminate, therefore, I listened in a general way,
while all manner of demonstrations were being made,
until overcome by the perplexing strain I gave way
to tears. After indulging somewhat copiously, I
lifted my head and looked about, to find the room en-
tirely empty, and, as inconsistent as it may seem, I
felt aggrieved for having wounded beings, no matter
what they were, who had come to me with the offer-
ing of their companionship. A voice came in upon
my contrition soothingly :

"Do not worry, child, most of them have had ex-
istence on earth. They understand, but since coming
here they have been unable to communicate with
earth beings although having the ability to do so."

"If they would only come one at the time," I com-
plained.

"It would be better so but as there are so few with
whom they can intelligently communicate, when one
is found, it is an event of general rejoicing."

"Evidently," I made answer thoughtfully, feeling
sorry for having disappointed them. The voice in-
terrupted further regret by saying firmly:

"Now undress and go to bed."

"Very well," I assented, and with feverish haste
began, still struggling with the embarrassment of
undressing before an audience, and put on my night
clothes with more celerity than ever before in my
memory; all the time half resenting the tone of au-
thority the voice assumed. This accomplished, I
hurried into the bed room to be confronted by a real
dilemma — that of putting out the light and facing the
ghosts in the darkness! This does not sound nearly
so formidable as it really was. It was a combination

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are AUve 31

entirely too much for unmoved contemplation. As I
stood looking at the light in the fullness of its fancied
protection, I heard the clock striking and counted
every stroke — it was twelve o'clock.

No. There was no need of debating on the subject
any further — to be locked in with the ghosts was bad
enough in the light but in the darkness it was impos-
sible — a Aing not to be thought of. I remembered
that I had a little night lamp, which solved the prob-
lem, despite the faintness of its illumination, and a
few minutes later I was examining it and congratu-
lating myself that it was in first-class working order.
As I tested the wick and examined every part care-
fully, I was wishing for some living thing in the
room with me — just anything so long as it was alive.
I think I would have looked with friendliness upon
a spider or a fly if one had presented itself, but in
those well screened rooms such things rarely
ventured.

I sorely regretted leaving my little, white, toy dog,
Coots, to remain over night at the home of the friend
who had cared for him during the day. He was al-
ways in the room with me at night, and this night,
of all nights, I needed his loving, living companion-
ship and ardently wished that I had driven by for
him en route home — it was only a few blocks out of
the way. How alone I felt yet was anything but
alone I

After thoroughly satisfying myself as to the relia-
bility of the little lamp, I placed it very carefully
where the light would shed its protection on the bed,
lighted it and looked upon it with approbation, al-
though it was about as far below par as the other was
above. Then I walked over, put out the light and
stood in the darkness 1 This I lost no time in remedy-

i by Google

32 How I Know That

ing, and stood, puzzled, looking at the little lamp;
then went over, todc it up and examined it without
finding any cause for its delinquency. While I half
suspected it was the work of invisible agencies, I was
reluctant to accept that which was more disturbing
than reassuring and dismissing the suspicion, took the
little lamp, placed it where I knew it was secure from
the faintest breath of draught and lighted it with the
very last match in the room! I viewed it more criti-
cally this time but none the less satisfactorily.

I put the light out again and was appalled with
the same result I This time I stood in the darkness,
so annoyed, that I almost forgot to be afraid, staring
at the place where I knew the night lamp was ; won-
dering at the repeated extinction of the light. Then
I knew and a great fear grew and grew upon me un-
til it was something dreadful and I closed my eyes
to shut out the sight of anything that might confront
me in the chilly darkness. I felt a presence coming
nearer and instinctly lifted my hand to ward it off.
A cold grasp met my hand and pressed it firmly
downward, until it rested by my side, with all the
strength gone out of it, and a voice stern with re-
proach was saying:

"Fear is unworthy of you."

"Did you put that light out?" I demanded, ignor-
ing what had been said, as I was in anything but a
philosophizing frame of mind.

"I did," came the voice evenly.

"Why?" I demanded.

"Lest you prove yourself unworthy."

There was something painful about this rebuke,
bringing a sense of unworthiness, and despite the
trembling of my limbs I went swiftly across the
room, jumped into bed, pulled the light covers up

ibvGooglc

The Dead Are Alive 33

over my head (as I had so often done as a frightened
child), shut my eyes and listened, with heart beating
wildly. I knew the presence who had chided me
stood beside the bed, but, I could not, it seemed, re-
move the cover from my face nor open my eyes, while
feeling it was, required of me. The very concentrated
essence of fear was upon me — never had I been so
demoralized by any sensation, when a voice com-
manded :

"Uncover your head."

For an instant I felt that it might just as well have
said "Cut off your head," for one seemed about as
easy to do as the other. But after a brief hesitation,
during which something seemed to touch my fear
with neutralization, I obeyed calmly, opening my
eyes at the same time and looking in the direction
from whence came the voice.

"Are you afraid?" came the voice so laden with
reproach that I almost shrank before it.

"I was, but I am not now" I made answer truth-
fully, as fear had passed away so completely, that I
could scarcely realize that I had just emerged from
the agony of it and was alone in the darkness with a
ghost, who conversed with as much unconcern as
though the sun was beating down in the noontide of
day. This change of mental attitude was so pro-
nounced that my thoughts kept reverting to it, so
much so, that finally I asked :

"Why was I so dreadfully frightened?"

"That you may become superior to fear — to ex-
perience fear in its extremity is to recognize the full-
ness of its impotency."

"Am I superior to fear now?" I asked eagerly.

"That remains to be seen."

Then as if to prove one assertion and test the other

i by Google

34 How I Know That

the room began filling with misty clouds, white and
undulating in movement, in which I caught glimpses
of faces and forms, vibrating, ever moving. Blazing
eyes shone fieetingly from behind the clouds; vapory
hands reached toward me in entreaty and voices came
pleadingly, while I watched them eagerly, unafraid.
I could feel their touches, feel the bed tremble and
shake under their manifestations but was no longer
afraid — quite the contrary. The weird, wondrous
beauty, the mystery of it, appealed to me and as I lay
watching the misty whiteness and shadowy forms
within, listening to the voices, with cool, soft breezes
playing about me, there came such a sense of joyous
uplifting that the whole earth seemed made anew in
this conscious harmony with the invisible.

"It lies around us like a cloud.

The world we cannot see,
Yet the sweet closing of an eye

May bring us there to be ;
Its gentle breezes fan our cheeks.

Amid our earthly cares;
Its gentle voices whisper love,

And mingle with our prayers."

"One — two," I counted. The clock had struck
two, calling me back to the reality of passing time.
The voice beside me, after expressing pleasure that
I had accepted the coming of the Unseen in the spirit
of its meaning, said with finality:

"You may sleep now — goodnight."

What has this entity of mystery to do with my
sleeping? I was asking myself, as I watched the white
mist disperse, the shadowy forms and fancies vanish,
felt the vibrations cease and listened to the soft re-

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 35

treating footfalls on the stairs and galleries, which
sounded unbelievably real. Yet, even then, I real-
ized that it was given only to add a touch of reality
to the unreal, that the finite mind might better grasp
it. Whether we realize it or not, there is nothing so
convincing to the mind as sound.

Then as if going out with the rest of it, I drifted
into a dreamless sleep that held me until the morning
sun was shining.

When I awoke I sat up in bed and looked about
guiltily, half expecting to find them still there. Then
I sat on the bedside, while memory, that most reliable
attribute of mentality, insisted on demonstrating its
power of retention, by rehearsing the mystery-laden
incidents of the day and night — incidents that had
caused the pendulum to alternate between fear and
confidence, defiance and acceptance, until they sub-
sided in joyous surrender. Now as I viewed it in the
broad light of day, it seemed a wild, mad, dream; so
much so that it frightened — alarmed me and I arose
hurriedly and began dressing for the street, deter-
mined to tear out of my consciousness what the day
dream of yesterday and the night-mare of last night
had fastened upon it.

As I dressed with this determination prodding me
I was startled by the voice that I was trying so hard
to forget that I had ever heard :

"Why fight against what you know exists?"

*'Please hush — do not begin the day with the mys-
tery of your voice. Whatever you are, be merciful —
give me a chance to adjust myself to that which I
would fain reject, despite its clamorings for recogni-
tion."

"As you will," assented the voice calmly, while
emotions and conjectures ran riot within and I was

i by Google

36 How I Know That

further away from a solution than ever, as I would
not accept what deep down in my inner conscious-
ness I knew it was. With this raging conflict in my
soul I went out and while the tension was somewhat
lessened by a brisk walk, there was ever the con-
sciousness that I was not alone. All during the day
when I came in contact with those who knew me, I
was conscious of an effort to regulate my actions in
• accordance with what would be recognized as "natu-
ral" — to be outwardly calm and well poised regard-
less of the storm within.

When the voice came, as it did at intervals, during
the day, it was gently repulsed with a tentative prom-
ise of later recognition. The presence never left me
— I could feel the pressure of its force upon me while
I resisted it — while I denied its existence and was
fighting against unconditional surrender. At the
same time I realized that a priceless jewel was being
offered me: I wanted to take it, to hold it, to press it
to my heart, yet was afraid to touch it — afraid to
have it touch me — a fear that was not physical but
was a feeling as inexplicable as the cause of it. To
accept would be to form all my conceptions and con-
clusions of life over again. Being a recognized free-
thinker, to admit a change of sentiment would be a
compromise of pride.

And thus all day long I fought the bitter fight with
an undercurrent of defeat uppermost in my con-
sciousness.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive

CHAPTER IV
SHADOWS OF NIGHT.

When night came again and I was locked within
my apartments my little dog was with me playing
about while I changed my street clothes for more
comfortable house apparel.

When I sat down to read the evening paper he lay
on a sofa pillow at my feet, evidently free from any
disturbing influence. In a few minutes he jumped
hurriedly into my lap, barking furiously at some in-
visible object. I tried to comfort him but to no avail.
Suddenly the barking ceased, the tenseness went out
of his body and he trembled violently, dumb with
fear. Thoroughly alarmed I arose with him, walked
about, talking to him, but in his endeavor to keep the
object of his perturbation under observation, he came
so near falling out of my arms that I placed him on
the bed and sat down beside him. Instantly he jumped
wildly off and ran under it, crouching as far back as
possible, with trembling in his body and fear in his
eyes. I made every effort to coax him out but he
only wagged his tail feebly and looked miserable,
refusing to move. Wondering what had so fright-
ened him I looked searchingly about the room but
there was nothing unusual in its appearance, not even
a suggestion of the supernatural other than a cold-
ness out of harmony with the temperature of the day.
Again I tried to coax him, out but when he persist-
ently refused his attitude of dejection so appealed to
me that I crawled under and brought him out against
his inclination. After a little while his fears subsid-
ed and I put him on the bed, covering him up com-

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

38 How I Know That

pletely. A slight trembling of the body was the
only remaining evidence of his perturbation.

Realizing that sleep was impossible I pulled an
easy chair before a south window and sat where the
cool, salt-laden gulf breeze could blow away some
of the cobwebs the spiders of mystery had been weav-
ing in my brain, and where lost in thought I looked
out on the beauty of a summer's night with its soft
undulating shadows without seeing it; listened to
the calling of the sea without hearing it; was fanned
by the cool breeze without feeling it, enmeshed in a
tangled web of mystery that defied unraveling.

Then began a solemn marching, first in disorder
then single file, of all the stories I had ever read or
heard pertaining to ghosts, apparitions, spirits, and
all things supernatural, brushing the dust of time
from these unfrequented paths of memory. I viewed
each eagerly, analytically, as it passed on leaving a
sense of insufficiency in its wake, shedding no light
on the present, which half irritated me, causing me
to swing with the pendulum to the other extreme and
try with all the intensity of which I was capable to
convince myself the whole thing was a fabric of
fancy — that science could never justify such foolish-
ness. A voice startled me :

"Why do you persist in trying to deceive yourself?"

"I am trying not to deceive myself — hush, please,
let me think it out alone."

"As you will."

I knew the room was now peopled with entities of
other worlds, but resolutely turned my face away and
sent my mind backward into the blank pages of past
experiences, and could have laughed at the comedy
of it if it had not been so enormously outweighed by
my intensity of purpose. There I was, perplexed be-

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 39

yond endurance, trying desperately to summon evi-
dence from the pages of the past when all around and
about me, waiting upon my acceptance or rejection,
was. evidence enough to convince the whole world.
I was however like the rest of the world — did not
care to be convinced.

This time I went far back, even violating child-
hood by digging up the "hant" stories of my old black
nurse (black mammy) with which she had induced
sleep when my childish perseverity ignored her
crooning lullabies. She had an array of cellar, attic,
old house "hants," but her favorite and most effective
one, in so far as I was concerned, was that of a head-
less "nigger" who had "hanted" "de quarter" after
the war, in which he had lost his head, and, according
to her version, was always looking for a head to ap-
propriate, caring little whether it was white or col-
ored. Here is where my childish interest began and
ended. No matter how strong my inclination had
been to get up and play, after her assurance that if I
did not go to sleep my head would be appropriated
by the "hant," I would creep further and further
down between the white sheets, scarcely daring to
breathe. Thus cold and trembling I would pass into
dreamland, where sometimes I met the horrible
"hant" face to face, while she rejoiced in her ability
to put "dat sweet chile" to sleep without scolding
her.

I smiled bitterly and thought with a shudder of
the "countless millions" who are sacrificed on the
altar of mistaken kindness!

Then memory fastened upon a little school mate
who was unsophisticated enough to admit in broad
day light on the play grounds of the school that she
not only saw "spirits" but talked with them — that

ly Google

40 How I Know That

they told her many things, some of which she retailed
to us, baring the whole story of her little psychic
soul to a jesting, frivolous bevy of school girls, who
heaped ridicule upon her sensitive, innocent head
even while she was telling the story. There was a
sting in the memory that / was not the least among
them.

Because of this confidence she was completely
ostracized by the girls and even now memory brings
back her little tear-stained face and pleading eyes as
she looked at the girls who would not play with her.
I was sorry for her but not sorry enough to act toward
her as I now would have others act toward me.

Later this sensitive little flower was transplanted
to another garden far from the ridicule that had made
her life unbearable, all for daring to tell what I now
know was the truth.

I dwelt painfully upon this incident for some time,
even after all these years, chiding myself for the part
I played in it. Then shaking it off with an ef-
fort I passed on over a psychologically barren period
from childhood to young womanhood, where an in-
cident, with practically nothing in common with the
present, clamored for recognition, and as it belongs
to the family of things not measurable by the scien-
tific yardstick, I may as well record it, although the
voice I heard was of the living instead of the so-
called dead.

I was away from home, at a hotel, and in the early
morning between four and five o'clock, I was awak-
ened by a pulling at my pillow and at the same time
heard distinctly the voice of my sister saying:

"Fanny, Eddie Lou is dead — come to me."

I sat up in bed, looking quickly around, half ex-
pecting to see my sister, for surely it was her voice I

ibvGooglc

The Dead Are Alive 41

had heard. There being nothing tangible I tried to
believe I had dreamed it, but I knets I had not and
arose with the conviction that my sister's baby was
dead, without understanding how the intelligence
had been conveyed to me. When I turned on the light
I was distressed to find the train was due in a few
minutes, rendering it impossible for me to dress and
reach the depot in time, which I would have done
had time permitted.

A few minutes later a message came confirming
the child's death and asking me to come, but the train
had already gone.

As this incident persisted and refused to be waved
aside as a thing out of keeping with the present mani-
festations, I wondered if, after all, it was not a mat-
ter of soul speaking to soul, difiering from the present
only in the souls being disembodied. It is reasonable
to suppose, I contended, that a soul is the same entity
within or out of the body. Why not? I was em-
bodied and in communication with the disembodied,
manifesting the same principle under different en-
vironments.

As I was casting about for some other incident to
fasten upon, a voice interrupted:

"The past has nothing to give — accept the present."

"Wait until I finish the review — I must satisfy my-
self," I contended.

"If you must," came half ironically.

I went back and took up the thread, coming on
down the uneventful line to the time when I strayed
into the pastures of materialism, which gave to me
the joyous (?) freedom of believing nothing, during
which time there came stories of the occult and spirit-
ual only to excite my ridicule. So powerful is the
influence of non-belief that even as I passed over this

i by Google

42 How I Know That

period in memory, in my heart I reviled and ridi-
culed the evidence that surrounded me. All uncon-
sciously I had gone around the circle and had come
back to the present and was fighting it, when a voice
startled me:

"And so the review brings you back to the pres-
ent?"

"Yes," I reluctantly admitted, and looking up in
the direction from whence came the voice, my eyes
met dark, luminous eyes that looked piercingly into
mine, and then vanished.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"Meon," came the direct, unexpected answer.

"Meon — Meon," I repeated musingly. There was
something so familiar about the name that I added,
more to myself than to the presence, "Where have I
heard that name before?"

"You have heard it many times," came the re-
sponse.

"When and where?"

"At different times and under different circum-
stances since time began."

"Since time began?" I echoed in interrogatory
amazement.

"Yes; and you have existed since time began but
that matters little at present."

"What does matter at present?"

"Your co-operation."

"That would be an easy matter if you would only
explain the mystery of your coming — where you
came from — ^why you came and all about it. Tell
me plainly what is required of me."

"Has life, in any of its phases, ever been explained
to you other than by living it?"

"No," I grudgingly admitted.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 43

"This phase, being a part of life, is no exception."

"In what way is it a part of life? — it is not a part
of everybody's life."

"Yes; it is the subconscious part — the soul life.
The life of the spirit is continuous and everlasting."

"Rather an unrecognized part in the average life,
is it not?"

"No. There are indeed few who deny the exist-
ence of the soul — the indefinable something over
which the physical has no control."

"However, I would appreciate some explanation,
as all this is very disturbing and mysterious to me."

"You would not believe. Suppose I told you my
coming was in response to your oft-repeated chal-
lenge?"

How vividly my words came back to me:

"I demand some material, tangible evidence — until
then I shall believe nothing." It was thus in a tone
of finality, I always disposed of religious arguments
that intruded upon my materialistic views, never
dreaming that that which I demanded would be given
— in fact, quite the reverse — I was sure it would not.
And now being actually confronted with the very
thing that I had demanded I was loath to accept it,
but there was nothing else to do. I had weighed my
little store of knowledge or rather store of little
knowledge in the balance and found it wanting.

With this realization full upon me I arose, slowly
turned about and faced the forces that were confront-
ing me, leaving the will-o-the-wisps of the past to
the oblivion to which the present consigned them.
There was no demonstration — they were waiting with
the patience born only of assurance — over all was an
unearthly stillness and a "cold creepiness" that made
me shrink a little as I stood hesitating, waiting for I

i by Google

44 How I Know That

knew not what. A cold hand took mine with a gentle
pressure that seemed to impel me forward, as a voice
was saying:

"Come, bathe in the light of the victory that is
yours."

As I wondered at a sentence so strange, many
voices took up the call "come — come," until the echo
fioated back from afar to the accompaniment of the
softest music and something within me was making
response, "I am here — I have come," as I walked as
one in a dream and sat upon the bedside in the apathy
of resignation, which gradually mingled into a joy-
ousness that comes not of earth.

After retiring I neither invited nor resisted dem-
onstrations from that which I knew to be surrounding
me but lay listlessly observing little lights, all sizes,
ranging from pin-head size to a few much larger,
that were fluctuating and vibrating, all scintillating as
they rolled about within the white mist where flashes
of miniature lightning were coming and going inter-
mittently. There was something so restfully fascinat-
ing about it that sleep threatened to come in and shut
it out, when suddenly, standing beside the bed was a
tall, dark person, illuminated f ronr head to feet by a
scintillating light which came from within and light-
ed up the body like an electric light does the globe
which incloses it. This time the luminous eyes blazed
into mine unflinchingly, as in awe I whispered :

"Meon?"

"Yes; Meon," came the confirmation, as I watched
it slowly vanish, noting with wonder that the light
within which had illuminated the body, was the last
thing to disappear. Before it disappeared, it stood
in the same spot blazing and scintillating like a live
thing as I stared at it until it became one with the

ibvGooglc

The Dead Are Alive 45

misty whiteness, and still I could feel the presence
beside me.

And thus, with sleep murdered within me, all night
long I drank deeply of this cup of mystery without
knowing or caring whether it was the wine of life or
its poisoned lees, held by its intoxication until the
gray dawn gave way to the pink sunrise.

i by Google

46 How I Know That

CHAPTER V.
FORGING LINKS IN THE CHAIN.

When morning came, after what seemed a veritable
reincarnation of the Arabian Nights Dream, I arose
with a guilty sense of having abused the night by in-
dulging a dark, untenable secret — something that I
dared not tell. Despite the wonder and beauty of it
I was strangely depressed all during the day, feeling
how differently people would regard me if they only
knew.

This companionship with the Invisible had estab-
lished itself into a permanency and I was never with-
out conscious knowledge of its existence. When in
conversation with any one voices would come whis-
pering, telling of incidents in the life of the one with
whom I conversed. To this was generally added the
request to deliver a message but pride always stood
sentinel between the message and its delivery. Though
at times, I admit I was "'almost persuaded" into re-
sponsiveness only to be deterred by the knowledge
that the object of the invisible solicitude could not
understand

"The touch of a vanished hand
And the sound of a voice that is still."

During the interval of this solicitude the life of the
person in question was to me an open book — some-
thing seemed to impress every condition of his or her
life upon my mentality — the future as well as the
past and present. Another noticeable effect was that
while this condition prevailed the aura (or pale light

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 47

that envelops the body) not only increased but
scintillated, moving and changing, sometimes from
one color to another. Different colors predominate
in different persons and are more pronounced and ex-
tended in persons in public life than otherwise. Un-
der ordinary conditions this light is barely percep-
tible even to the occult vision.

And thus the days went on as I struggled to adjust
myself to living in two worlds, eash exacting its ob-
ligations, while I tried to differentiate as to where the
one began and the other ended. As the other, how-
ever, was so evidently a part of or continuation of
this, I could only say "World without end," and let
it go at that

One Friday evening soon after retiring Meon came
and said solemnly;

"I am going away tonight. Be not deceived dur-
ing my absence."

While I listened for some explanation he vanished,
leaving a sense of apprehensive loneliness which was
not easy to shake off. Why had he gone; in what
way could his going affect me; how could I be de-
ceived. All this I was asking myself in perplexity
when it dawned upon me that I needed rest and re-
laxation from the mysterious disturbance that had
not abated since the advent of the voice the Sunday
before, and I rejoiced in anticipation of the much
needed rest. In my heart thanking Meon for his
consideration, as the physical and mental strain had
been intense, I forthwith adjusted myself comfortably
and relaxed in the presence of sleep that was upon
me without any wooing.

As I lay between sleeping and waking the bed
shook violently, so much so that I was nearly thrown
off. The dog, with a piteous whine, jumped off and

i by Google

48 Ho'W I Know That

scampered to his refuge underneath, and I sat up,
listening and looking about inquiringly. There was
nothing to be seen or heard. "Dreaming, perhaps,"
I murmured — but what about the dog? In sleepy
indecision I lay down again but scarcely had I done
,so when the shaking began, more violent than before,
and so continuous that the bed seemed rocking too
and fro within a radius of about two feet, while
from under the bed the mattress was being pushed
up, as by hands directly beneath me, rolling me about
from side to side with such energy and persistence
that it was all I could do to keep from rolling off.
When I became thoroughly annoyed, this form of
manifestation abated somewhat, giving place to a
weird creaking that kept up so monotonously that it
became nerve-racking in the extreme. When it
seemed I could not endure it another instant, I de-
manded of the very silence what it meant. With
startling promptness the answer came:

"Oh, nothing. We are just keeping the fans busy
— note the effect." With this a cold draft struck
shivers irtto my very soul to the accompaniment of a
chorus of laughter which gave the impression of a
joke — a joke coming from such a source! It is im-
possible to conceive of what a weird, "creepy" sen-
sation such laughter produced — the appalling in-
congruity of the "dead" joking and laughing! It was
something beyond my appreciation, yet, why should
they not laugh and joke? A soul out of the body is
little changed from that within. As there are fun-
loving souls on earth is it not reasonable to suppose
this propensity remains the same after the transition
from matter into a more unrestricted environment?
A complete and sudden change would mean loss of
identity, the one thing we do not care to lose. No

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 49

future, however wonderful, would appeal to us if we
were not to be ourselves — it is the exalted condition
of the conscious ego that appeals to us, all of which
is a problem that only evolution can work out.

As I shivered in the uncertainty of this new phase
of spirit life — a disillusioning phase, I must admit —
all kinds of manifestations were going merrily on,
knocks ranging from the soft telegraphic clicking
on the metal bed to boisterous noises about the room
and house. Footsteps were hurrying in every direc-
tion; little lights were coming in and going out of
existence all about the room. Forms and faces gave
me fleeting glimpses of themselves; the door knob
turned and shook as though some one tried to force
an entrance, after which a hand seized upon my arm
80 real that it frightened me into the belief that some
one had forced an entrance into the room. The
screen doors were opening and shutting, as well as
the door between the bed room and dressing room,
papers rattled, chairs moved about noisily and voices
began telling unreasonable stories, as hands pressed
upon me, peals of laughter coming ever and anon.
I tried desperately not to be afraid but success is
not always a matter of effort. It was beyond endur-
ance and when I would have gotten up, I was alarmed
to find myself incapable of doing so — something
seemed to hold me. This was the proverbial "last
straw," and my temper grew several degrees warmer
than my body, as I chafed at the insolence. Then
came the cry of my little dog, under the stimulus of
which I jumped up and weak though I was, sat on the
bedside, and called to him. He persisted in refusing
to obey my calling, therefore, as soon as I was equal
to the exertion, I crawled under and brought him out
in a condition of such abject terror that'he seemed

ly Google

so Hoijo I Know That

more dead than alive, which fact added new fuel to
my resentment and I began casting about for some
means of suppressing the annoyance, when a calm^
challenging voice came:

"Why did you not command us to go, after which
we could not have remained?"

"Go now and never return," I commanded, with
a feeling of relief that such company could be so
easily disposed of. After listening to them go and
the pall of silence, as the calm after the storm, came
upon me, I half regretted my harshness but not
enough to recall them, as I did not care to have my
little dog frightened to death, to say nothing of my-
self.
/ Experience has since taught me that there is a law
/ in the world of shadows that at the mundane com-
\ mand spirits must go at once and without question.
This I consider the most expedient prerogative con-
nected with the communication between the two
realms, as there are undesirable spirit entities as well
as any other contrary to the preconceived ideas as to
the infallibility of all pertaining to the spirit world.
Discrimination in the choice of unseen associates is
even more essential than in the seen, as their mental
influence is greater. While the rule of "like attracts
like" is generally applicable and can be relied on to
a certain extent after one acquires spiritual under-
standing, there are varied and noteworthy exceptions
that one passing into the privilege of such communi-
cation very soon discovers, more or less, to his or her,
disillusionment.

When I finally returned to bed I waited in fearful
uncertainty for a renewal of the "wake," but every-
thing was still almost to oppression, and while I lis-
tened for their coming, sleep came instead, shutting

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 51

■out all further disturbances, making it a matter of
indifference whether they cam,e or not.

The next day the desire was strong upon me to tell
these strange things to some one who could under-
stand — if such a being existed, and in this connection
I remembered my manicurist, who had, some time
previously, told me of a "medium" she had consulted
and was enthusiastic with satisfaction. Although at
the time I had laughed most heartily at her credulity
and shocked her by telling her exactly how I felt
about such matters, now I was determined to find
out where her oracle could be found and ask for
audience with her. My nails were not especially in
need of manicuring but an hour after this resolution
my hands were on the manicurist's table, she filing
away on my nails, as we discussed this most important
personage, I affecting an indifference I was far from
feeling.

When I came out of the parlors I dismissed the
car, fearing that, as it stood waiting before the Spirit-
ualist Temple, the chauffeur or number might be
recognized by some one who knew me and that my
inconsistency would become a matter of comment.
I was not ready to give publicity to that which had
revolutionized my views where they had been most
dogmatic.

As I had never consulted a "medium" nor attended
a seance nor believed anything I had ever heard
about such things, except to their discredit, it is
small wonder that this radical departure made me
feel like a guilty thing; that I was violating one of
the highest standards of my life. Too, my fiance was
a well known freethinker and I knew my action
would meet with his direct condemnation.

It was a long walk and a hot day and after all the

i by Google

52 How I Know That

agony of it I arrived at the Temple to find the object
of my inquiry away for the summer 1

Disappointment weighed heavily upon me as I
turned away and walked slowly home resolved to
yenture no further in such premises feeling that I had
exhausted all my initiative for radical departure
from the "trodden path," to which I had returned
and was meekly treading, half ashamed of my digres-
sion.

What a week it had been I Passing to all appearances
just as any other week since time began and yet I
wondered, if in all the world there was another who
had experienced the marvelous and radical changes
that had affected me I Science, where the super-
natural is concerned, had laid its sceptre down; the
flag of materialism had fallen into the hands of
Knowledge; the dark door of death had swung on
its creaking hinges, revealing a light beyond which
consumes the darkness that makes us tremble on its
threshold — truly I seemed to have changed my per-
sonality and if it is true "as a man thinketh, so he is,"
I had. The same to all appearances, and yet how
different I

As I expected to spend the morrow, as I had the
previous Sunday, with my fiance, I retired rather
early, but not before taking the precaution of asking
my landlady to call me early, as I could not antici-
pate what the night might require of me and would
take no chances of oversleeping and missing "the
eight-thirty train to La Porte, where I expected to
meet my fiance and his party and spend.the day cruis-
ing about the bay, a recreation we both enjoyed.
With this end in view his yacht had, during the after-
noon, steamed up to Sylvan Beach, La Porte, as a
precaution against delays or disappointments.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 53

It was thus I lay dreaming of the morrow and its
anticipated pleasures, without a thought of the in-
visibles, when Morpheus folded me within the
mantle where dreams and realities are one.

i by Google

54 How I Know That

CHAPTER VI.
WITH THE COMING OF THE DAWN.

"Awake — get up," came a command to which I
gave obedience almost before I was consciously
awake and sat sleepily on the bedside, wondering if
I had been dreaming. All doubt was dissipated by
the voice :

"Get out of bed," — I stood up and moved uncer-
tainly to the middle of the room, noting a suggestion
of the dawn in the semishadows that played about
and the gray that pressed upon the window panes.
This I noted with surprise as I fancied the night still
young, feeling that I had slept only a very short time.
The clock striking four relieved further conjecture
as to the time.

"Pull down the shades," was the next order, which
I obeyed rather mechanically, pulling them full
down, rendering the room quite dark. There was no
thought of turning on the light as I felt instinctively
the darkness had its purpose, otherwise it would not
have been enforced by lowered shades.

As I stood hesitating, waiting for further orders,
as it were, I was directed to take a footstool to a given
point in the room and sit upon it. This I did with-
out question, realizing that it was Meon who was
giving the directions and was pleased that he had re-
turned ; but refrained from expressing myself there-
on, as something a vast deal more important seemed
in process of manifestation.

After sitting as directed for a few minutes, drowsi-
ness came over me, the heaviness of which caused me
to forget that there was no back to the stool and my

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 55

leaning against the back that wasn't resulted most dis-
astrously. Thoroughly awakened, I scrambled up,
with resentment burning in my heart because of the
seemingly whimsical preference for a stool, when
several comfortable chairs were in the room, for
which I would have exchanged the stool, but a voice
vibrant with command smote my consciousness:

"Sit where you are," and I settled down with an
emphasis in keeping with the tone of command, con-
scious of an almost overpowering chilliness, as I
waited for I knew not what. As I conjectured, I per-
ceived a little light fluctuating before my face, fixing
my attention. As I looked at it, it assumed a pointed
shape and began moving slowly away, my eyes fol-
lowing. So it continued to move until it stood direct-
ly over a white easel on which was a life size portrait
of my fiance. Here it stopped, scintillating, grow-
ing in size and power of illumination. After holding
this vibratory, scintillating position a few seconds, it
moved, with a rolling effect, downward until it paused
directly in front of the face of the portrait, where it
stood quivering, emitting a light sufficient to make
the features distinctly discernible, despite the dark-
ness of the room. Thus suspended, it began quiver-
ing into nothingness and darkness was over every-
thing.

While there was nothing especially interesting
about this, I sat with my attention focused on the
spot where it had disappeared, almost breathlessly
waiting for the indefinable "something" to happen;
but as nothing eventuated, somewhat disappointedly,
I looked about the room and was fascinated by alter-
nating shadows of darkness and light, blending so
intimately that they seemed a commingling mass of
light and darkness, one, yet distinct, moving noise-

i by Google

56 How I Know That

lessly in circular waves toward the easel, which
seemed the magnet. The light would quiver over the
portrait, giving just a glimpse of it, when the shroud
of the pursuing darkness would shut it out, and thus
it alternated, becoming more and more distinct and
individualized until a pale, bluish illumination
fringed the edges of the shadows, making the sepa-
rateness more pronounced — the lightness more weird-
ly effulgent— the darkness as an Egyptian midnight.
The darkness would fall into the light like a great
curtain, obscuring everything, and in turn the white-
ness would come with a silvery glow, giving soft out-
line to everything within its area. As I gazed upon
the mystic beauty of it, suddenly there came down,
over and about the easel, a great flood of vibrating
whiteness, lighting up everything with a radiance,
revealing to my astonishment a clean, white, blank
canvas, where only a few minutes before I had looked
upon the likeness of, what was to me, the dearest face
in the world! I bounded forward in the face of
this daring obliteration, with rescuing intentions, but
my rising attempt was firmly suppressed by a power,
not as of hands, but a concentrated force, more pow-
erful and impressive, that forced me down with an
emphasis that checked even the desire to rise.

Held by this strange power I began wondering if
it was possible that I could be dreaming, at the same
time, felt convinced that I was not. Be that as it may,
I was not satisfied and wanted something tangible
that would bear material evidence when the light of
day laughs at the dreams of night. I began casting
about and summoning these mute, material witnesses
that were to stand before the judgment of the mor-
row, and in so doing felt a sense of "laying up treas-
ures" of victory that nothing else could give. First,

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive $7

I noted that one of the sheets lay partly on the floor,
where it had been dragged as I made my hasty and
half conscious obedience to the conlmand to arise;
also there was one of my bed-room slippers with
heel up and at right angles to the other. That was
all I could see in the semi-darkness that was worthy
of subpoenaing. Feeling these inadequate, I removed
my engagement ring from the third linger of the left
hand and placed it on the third finger of my right,
a most unusual thing, as the ring was rarely removed
from my finger under any pretext. Lastly I reached
over, not being permitted to get up, and removed an
onyx tablet from the lower section of a table which
stood near and placed it on the floor beside me.

Thoroughly satisfied, I viewed my assembled wit-
nesses and again gave my attention to that from
which I had withdrawn it, with the assurance that
no matter what developments the night might bring
forth these witnesses would stand as evidence against
it being a dream, no matter how interwoven it might
be with unreality.

As the easel had been the objective of the
preceding phenomena, I naturally fixed my attention
on the spot where I knew it was. Intense darkness
was prevailing at the time. This darkness was like
a proscenium curtain, studded with miniature lights,
and vibrating with variegated colors. It began to
rise slowly, revealing beyond a flood of silvery light,
holding within itself the easel, which was swaying
lightly, from side to side, up and down, within a
radius of about two feet. The canvas within the
frame was no longer blank — there were two objects
plainly discernible.

I Tense with anxiety at to what the canvas was
about to reveal, I watched eagerly, as the swaying

i by Google

58 Hoiv I Know That

merged into vibrations, and vibrations into visible
tremblings. The shadow of darkness came down, ob-
scuring it entirely from my vision, abruptly changing
expectation into disappointment, a reaction to whose
agony only experience can testify. I could have
fallen face downward on the floor and cried out
against the cruelty of it, when a hand was laid lightly
on my head and an encouraging voice was saying:

"Patience yet a little while."

With this I forced myself back under the strain of
expectancy and sat watching and waiting, while
touches came on my face, hands and hair, as though
the invisible entities would assure me that I was not
alone in the darkness.

Suddenly the whole room seemed to pulsate, the
very air became charged with life, thronging with
unearthly shapes and shadows — alive with the very
reality of the unreal. The coldness accordingly in-
creased until breathing seemed difficult, but the easel,
like a magnet, held my eyes, and my heart beat wild-
ly with expectation. Slowly the dark curtain was
rising again and beyond, in the silvery whiteness,
were the forms and faces of two human beings plain-
ly outlined and I was straining every nerve in the
quivering intensity of hopeful recognition. Then a
great illumination fell into the silvery mist with
various colors playing within its soft meshes. As it
spread over the entire room, it encompassed me with-
in its glow, and I stared at that which stood before
me, fully revealed and recognizable.

In the quivering whiteness the picture frame
seemed only a window and standing out beyond it,
looking at me with love in their eyes and happiness
on their radiant faces, were my parents, who had
only a few years before passed behind the vfiil, which

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 59

was now lifted that I might know they still lived
in the mystic realm beyond it.

No word was spoken, no sign given; and while yet
my heart was calling out its love to them they quiv-
ered into nothingness. Still I sat fascinated, gazing
enraptured at the place where they had stood, yet
realizing they had gone, as the calm eyes of the
portrait were looking steadily into mine, bearing no
evidence of having served as an impromptu reception
hall for envoys from another world. And still I sat
— held by the spell of it — the hushed, half-awed sa-
credness held me within itself, powerless to turn
away from where the shadowy footprints of unre-
ality had just fallen on the register of reality, break-
ing down the barrier between the two.

I was startled by the landlady's knock on the door,
punctuated by:

"It is time to get up."

The little dog, barking furiously, rushed from his
refuge under the bed, glad, no doubt, to have some
real, live, human being to take issue with, while I
arose and unlocked the door. She entered with a
cup of hot coffee, the one thing I needed most, as I
was very cold and my nerves not up to their usual
standard of steadiness.

As I stood holding the coffee, expressing my ap-
preciation therefor, I examined the mute witnesses
which I had assembled for the light of day which
had now come. I noted carefully the sheet which was
partly on the floor; the one slipper, heel up; the ring
on the third finger of my right hand and beside the
footstool, the onyx slab. This she noted, looking at
me inquiringly, to which I vouchsafed no explana-
tion, as we turned and went into the dressing room,
where I drank the coffee and began, with her assist-

i by Google

6o Hoiv I Knoiti That

ance, to make my toilet for the day, in accordance
with the dictation of a voice which evidenced interest
in my personal appearance for the occasion. The
costume selected was an all-over hand embroidered
linen, champagne colored, with every thing to match,
which made up in elegance what it lacked in ap-
propriateness as a yachting costume.

As I proceeded with my toilet voices from the in-
visible almost drowned every other sound as they
poured in upon me from every direction, causing a
preoccupation of manner that even the light talk in
which I indulged could not disguise, as was evidenced
by her question:

"Aren't you well?"

"Perfectly," I replied hastily, but realizing that
indisposition would be the most natural excuse for
my distrait manner, I added, forcing a little laugh,
"You know getting up early always puts me out of
tune, but as I feel so unusually inharmonious this
morning, I presume I am not quite well."

"Would you care for another cup of coffee?" she
asked kindly, expressing sympathy because of my
indisposition.

"Thank you — no," I answered, assuring her of my
appreciation of the solicitude she heaped upon me,
feeling the unworthiness that is born of deception.
Then, as if by mutual consent we lapsed into silence,
for which I was very grateful.

How I wished I could creep away to some quiet
spot where there were no appearances to keep up,
no voices, mundane or supermundane to interfere, as
there was a sacred silence they seemed to violate.
With hushed reverence my thoughts kept reverting
to that which had just given assurance of love that
outlives death; of ideals that persist through all
forms of life's continuity.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive

CHAPTER VII.
A DAY WITH THE INVISIBLES AT SEA.

"Patti, I am here," came a sweet girlish voice, so
familiar it startled me into forgetfulness that I was
wishing for silent meditation, and in awed uncer-
tainty, I whispered interrogatively:

"Lillian?" Not a sound came as I listened with
intensity not unmixed with perplexity, as I did not
then know the only person who ever so addressed me
had passed into the world of Silence. It was a friend
of my girlhood, who knowing and appreciating my
musical aspirations, had, in a girlish, jesting way, so
termed me as I sang the hours away instead of join-
ing her in the amusements she preferred.

Strangest of all came the perfume of violets, which
in earth life had always heralded her coming, and as
I marveled, her spontaneous, inimitable laughter
broke the stillness and I knew it could be none other.
The well remembered voice came again :

"Patti, you do not sing any more, my prima donna
dreamer."

"Oh, Lillian," I cried, "don't — if you know any-
thing you know why, but it does not matter now."

"Forgive me, dear, I only wanted to convince you
that it is really I."

"I am convinced but cannot realize that you have
passed out of this life — tell me all about it — what was
the cause?"

"Oh, I rode out on fever," she replied in her light-
est, most frivolous vein and laughed in that old care-
free, joyous way that made my heart bound with de-

i by Google

62 How I Know That

light and the years roll back to the sweet intimacy of
our girlhood days, which now seemed so long ago.

"Haven't you learned to be serious yet?" I chided,
for as much as I loved her, her frivolity was an im-
perfection to which at times I did not hesitate to call
her attention. "Tell me all about it — how long have
you been there?"

"Don't take it so seriously — rather rejoice with me
that I am free and happy and have been here long^
enough to pass beyond all obstructions and go where
I will. I often come to you and go to Edgar (a mu-
tual friend), but this is the first time you have ever
recognized me — Edgar never has."

"Let me see your face," I insisted.

"Not now, but I will when I come in different
vibrations."

"But what is the difference?" I questioned in sur-
prise.

"Much, as you will soon learn."

The honk-honk of the auto horn brought me back
to a realization of mundane demands and I hurried
out bidding the landlady good-morning and was fol-
lowed down the steps by her wishes for a pleasant
day.

As we drove toward the depot I felt a presence be-
side me and looking around I saw Lillian as dis-
tinctly as I had ever seen her in life, with her laugh-
ing eyes looking into mine and the same care-free
smile on her lips. She did not speak but vanished
almost as quickly as I saw her, leaving a sense of dis-
appointment at the sudden withdrawal of what
seemed a touch of reality to what had seemed very
unreal.

Since then, however, she has come many times,
always joyous and carefree, painting the other world

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 63

in such alluring colors that I would express a desire
to be there with her, but she would chide me saying:

"You could be as happy there, if you only knew
the truth."

"Tell me all about it," I would plead, but she
would answer always the same:

"I am not permitted," and I would wonder, and
would almost resent her lack of frankness, as she hid
her beautiful face behind the veil of the soul world
and her voice was stilled. She never remained after
she had made that answer, nor would she come if I
called.

As the train n^oved on and I sat complacently, I
could have transplanted myself into fancy's realm
and have been a queen holding court, so numerous
were the beings who "waited in state," as it were, for
my recognition, which I gave or denied as I elected.
The greatest exclusiveness marked my attitude to-
ward them, as I devoted myself to reasoning rather
than audience giving. There were too many. The
Sunday before there had been one — on this day, one
week later, there were many and each as anxious for
conversational recognition as the one had beenl I
had already had a week of almost sleepless nights and
trying days and felt that I would appreciate a diminu-
tion rather than an increase in the cause of it. I held
the doors of my consciousness shut against any sights
or sounds of the supernatural. At the same time I
was wishing ardently that there was some one with
whom I could intelligently share my secret — some
one who could understand — some one who could
swim in the deep waters on which I floated aimless-
ly, tossed by the vagaries of its currents, without even
a knowledge of its depths.

i by Google

64 How I Know That

"La Porte," the brakeman cried, with such energy
that it startled me almost out of the seat

My fiance met the train and we took a carriage
from La Porte to Sylvan Beach, which is some dis-
tance from the depot. Spirit entities crowded into
the carriage, pressing perceptibly against me while
cold touches made me shiver, but I persisted in re-
fusing them conversational privileges.

While we breakfasted at an al-fresco cafe on the
beach, I could hear the word "goodbye" softly whis-
pered and was curious to know why they were going
no further with me, therefore, listened. These words
came floating softly into my consciousness :

"All who dwell upon the land may not tread upon
the sea." Some were saying, "But I am going with
you," while others were murmuring sadly "goodbye
— goodbye."

Once begun it was not easy to shut out the ava-
lanche of voices that poured in upon me, but as we
walked down the beach toward the waiting yacht I
gradually suppressed them.

An hour later we were steaming over the placid
waters of the bay, watching the sunlight make gold-
tinted pictures on the tiny waves as they lifted their
heads in the golden radiance. It was restfuUy beau-
tiful but the calmness of the sea never appeals to me.
I love it in its wild, tempestuous moods, when it is a
veritable living thing in its responsiveness to the
storm element, when to be cradled on its bosom is to
flirt with death, the thrill of which I have known
many times, unmixed with fear. On this occasion,
however, there seemed a harmonious blending of its
calmness with the rythmic coming and going of
shadowy beings, who came on and off the boat with
meter-like regularity, giving the impression that they

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive 65

were entertaining guests who had come into their
domicile. Too, they seemed to be holding high festi-
val of some kind in which they chose to include us.
I had little time or inclination to delve into their
motives, as I had given a whole week of my time and
consideration to solving problems of their manifesta-
tions and had only this one day of my comradeship
and companionship to give to my husband- to-be, and
so resented any interference, regardless of its source.

After cruising about for some time we cast anchor
and angled with little success, tiring of which we
cast targets and vied with each other in rifle practice.
Although I have a medal, won by my rifle marks-
manship, the inaccuracy of my shooting on this oc-
casion showed the effect of the nervous strain un-
der which I had been for the past week. I was ex-
ceedingly proud of my reputation as a marksman,
and having no desire to forfeit it, feigned some trivial
indisposition, "headache,'* perhaps (although it is
something I never really have), and withdrew from
the contest, and when I stopped the others stopped
also. Some of the spirit entities manifested relief,
as the noise had seemed rather disturbing to them for
some reason.

After luncheon anchor was raised and we steamed
on, headed for Houston, which was a matter of sev-
eral hours' steady traveling. As we steamed on the
attentions of the invisible horde did not abate nor
were they the only intrusions upon the pleasant re-
alities by which I was surrounded. A dream picture
— the vision of a Paris creation — my wedding dress,
pearls hand-embroidered on white net, over the
softest pearl-white satin, which had come only the
day before, kept intruding itself upon my thoughts —
a veritable vision of loveliness. I seemed to see my-

i by Google

66 How I Know That

self robed in its elegance, just as I had viewed myself
the day before in the mirror with more than satisfac-
tion. As I was hugging to myself the pleasing vision
a voice interrupted :

"Waste not your dreams on that dress — ^you will
not be married in it."

How preposterous I I could have laughed at the
absurdity of it, despite all of which there was an un-
dercurrent of apprehension, which I attempted to
shake off and take up the golden thread of my dream
again.

"But the gold was out of the thread
And lead had entered instead."

To more effectually shake off the depression that
seemed determined to settle down upon me I arose
and walked about and finally requested the pilot to
permit me to steer, which he readily did, knowing
that I so enjoyed steering that I had practiced myself
into efficiency. There is something fascinating about
holding a splendid yacht in one's hands, as it were,
beside the intelligent direction of which her great
bulk and strength are as nothing. In about an hour,
somewhat tired, I relinquished the wheel and sat
down entirely relieved of the depression that had
weighed so heavily upon me.

"Tired?" asked my fiance in a matter-of-course
way, and sat down beside me.

"Just at bit," I answered, "The current is rather
exacting today." Looking critically into the water,
he said:

"And so it is," and as if by mutual consent we
lapsed into silent admiration of the glories of the set-
ting sun, as the gold played among the luxuriant fol-

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 67

iage and wild flowers that grew beside the ship chan-
nel that leads from Houston to the sea. The fragrance
of the blooming magnolias filled the air with a sweet
heaviness; the birds' and butterflies were singing and
flitting everywhere with a joyousness that was con-
tageous.

As I gazed enraptured, with my heart in perfect ac-
cord with nature's harmonious offering, the scene
changed — just merged into something quite differ-
ent. I no longer looked at trees, vines, flowers and
flitting birds but was staring with wide open eyes, far
out over hills and valleys unto a mountain, leading
up the side of which was an irregular path, narrow
but deeply cut, as by the treading of many feet and
upon the path journeyed a lone pilgrim, trying as
one blind, or in the darkness, to keep within the
path, despite its wearisome irregularities. This path
led into an immense "Silent city of the dead," with
its tombs and monuments gleaming white, far out
toward the setting sun. There were many graves —
one freshly dug and I beheld the lone pilgrim disap-
pear Within it and even as I looked in wonderment,
the same being was moving out beyond it, on what
seemed a continuation of die same path, which be-
came deeper and whiter as it went higher and higher
up the steep mountain side. The pilgrim went steadi-
ly on and on, climbing higher and higher. When
it was all but disappearing in the high, dim, dis-
tance it faced about suddenly and dimly but dis-
tinctly I saw — MYSELF.

Then I was staring at the sun-kissed foliage widi
its birds, butterflies and flowers; beside me sat my
fiance in silent admiration of the panorama that
nature was spreading before us and in blissful ig-
norance of the insert that had disturbed me more

i by Google

68 How I Know That

than anything the forces of mystery had yet con-
fronted me with. I could not move my eyes from
the scene — a great fear held me rigid — a revolution
raged within — I was wondering if I were mad, and
there is no agony so poignant as the fear that the
throne of reason is tottering in the face of one's
recognized inability to save it. I had not only seen but
remembered vividly every detail of that which I
knew had no existence 1 I could have cried aloud in
the very agony of it. What could it mean? What
would be the end of it all I

A mad impulse seized me to throw myself over-
board and thus end the tyranny of this mysterious
force that held me in a bondage that I could neither
explain to myself nor to any one else and there seemed
no escaping it Any fate seemed preferable to mad-
ness — the very thought was maddening. With this
alternative uppermost in my mind I arose and walked
to the aft of ^e boat, weighing the matter in all its
phases. When this mad impulse threatened to be-
come a tragic reality, a strong, firm hand fell upon
my arm, sending a sensation as of an elecrtic shock
through my entire body, rendering me so weak that
I fell rather than sat upon a chair, and a stern voice
was saying :

"How cowardly — thousands have spent their lives
working and praying for one little crumb from such
a feast as is being served to you without the asking."

"Why not serve it with less bitterness?" I com-
plained. "If you would only explain things to me.
You must know how sorely my soul is being tried."

"The soul that is too weak to meet any demand
made on it is unworthy of the cause that makes the
demand."

i by Google

The Dead Are AUve 69

"But you know what I saw does not exist," I per-
sisted.

"In so far as you are concerned it does."

"Yes, but suppose I told some one."

"Of which Uiere is no necessity."

"I loathe things without rhyme or reason."

"This is not without reason."

Utterly weary I turned away and sighed so heavily
that my fiance looked at m^ in quick surprise and
questioned solicitously:

"Are you not well?"

"Perfectly," I answered, shaking off the lethargy
with an effort and forcing a smile. "Such an ideal
day we have had."

"As all our days together are," he responded,
snuling, as we arose and went forward where we
stood indulging in inconsequential talk, watching the
falling of the evening shadows, and feeling the witch-
ery of the twilight hour, as the yacht ploughed on
amid the soft splashing of the water.

As we neared our destination I went down into
the cabin to bathe my face and rescue my hair from
its wind-tossed dishevelment. The invisibles were
even in there manifesting themselves. I felt my-
self immune against any surprise — feeling that the
surprise element had been exhausted — that I had
reached the limit, and had thereby gained a superi-
ority to any surprise that might try to foist itself
upon me. I remember thinking rather jocularly that
I could look on unmoved if the yacht suddenly turned
into Heaven or that other place, equally famous, or
rather infamous, as a future residential section.

Then the boat was docking and I hurried up on
deck just in time to step off without a moment's
waiting.

i by Google

70 How I Know That

CHAPTER VIII.
A CHILL-LADEN PROMISL

We proceeded directly to a cafe and ordered din-
ner in accordance with the ravenous appetites the sea
always gives — ^when it does not entirely destroy.

As we ate I perceived an invisible presence be-
side me, but as the physical was clamoring for con-
sideration I ignored it, very much as I had done, or
rather tried to do, during the day. But it was in-
sistent, refusing to be ignored, manifesting its pro-
testation by touching me, pulling my sleeve and
whispering "listen," until, more to relieve myself of
its nagging than anything else, I listened with as little
change in my outward demeanor as possible and this
is what I heard:

"Tell him you are going to die Tuesday night."

The knife and fork went slowly down and re-
mained so for a moment, then I arranged them in
the manner that indicates the termination of a meal
and sat back amid emotions struggling with stupe-
faction. A more choice diminisher of appetite was
beyond serving or conception !

"So this is the solution of it all," I mused, as I
stared at, without seeing, the unfinished meal before
me and heard my fiance asking in surprised solici-
tude:

"Not finished already?"

"Yes," and forcing a smile, added, "I was not
nearly so hungry as I fancied."

After looking at me critically for a moment with
a puzzled air he proceeded with his dinner, while I
sipped hot- coffee to dissipate the cold which per-

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive 71

meated my entire being. In a vague sort of a way I
was looking at life from a new viewpoint — the view-
point of leaving it How new and strange it seemed
— this intangible thing we call life, upon which I
had always looked as mine — a thing I possessed, to
use or abuse as I elected — and now it was to be re-
moved ; taken away with or without my consent by
a force over which I had no control. Had it ever
belonged to me — was it ever really mine, or was it
alwa^ subject to the power that now required it?
What is life, anyway? Suddenly life itself seemed
to line up along with the other mysteries — the great-
est of them, all 1

I neither feared death nor was I especially in love
with life, the mile-posts of which had not all been
labeled "Happiness," but when death, for which I
had, at times, been guilty of wishing, stood facing
me, ready to take me into its icy clasp and bear me
away to some mystic realm which the pen of the
historian had never violated — a mystery which to
solve was to become a part of, I hesitated— ques-
tioned it. Why had it waited until the star of love
had arisen in the firmament of my life, illuminating
it, making it a thing to be desired rather than toler-
ated?

"Are you ill?" came the anxious voice of my fiance,
which startled me almost painfully, as with some-
thing of an effort I replied :

"I believe I am."

He arose, took my arm, saying solicitously :
"Come," to which I responded with limbs so weak
and trembling that walking was an effort. As it was
near train time we went directly to the depot and the
gates being open, passed in to the train. I was glad
to sit down but grievously distressed, as I had not,

ibvGooglc

72 How I Know That

as yet, summoned sufficient courage to make the dis-
closure which I regarded as my duty to make. That
he was recognized as one of the leading freethinkers
in the state put the mention of the supernatural out
of the question, thus throwing on myself the responsi-
bility of any assertion I might make, which I re-
solved to assume, feeling that sentiment deserved
some consideration, for if the transition was to be
made on Tuesday night I would not again see him
and this would be our last goodbye and there were
only a few minutes before the train would go.

Finally in the most painful desperation I stam-
mered out:

"I am going to die Tuesday night"

He turned upon me a most disconcerting look and
demanded almost fiercely:

"Nonsense — why do you say anything so unrea-
sonable?"

"I know it," I defended in a tone as convincing as
I could command, yet realizing its ineffectiveness.

"Well of all strange fancies 1" he commented, glar-
ing at me and then settled back in a grim silence that
suggested he considered it a fancy unworthy of his
serious consideration but sufficient for his annoyance.

My pride resented his attimde, and having done
my duty, as I regarded it, in the premises, I put on
the brakes of self-control and asked with affected in-
difference :

"When does your train leave?"

"Nine something," he answered abstractedly, look-
ing straight ahead moodily, regardless of which I
chatted on in the most commonplace way of things
generally. Then it was time to say goodbye and I
said it smilingly, trying to keep back the tears that
were struggling for release.

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive ■ 73

"Goodbye, little girl, I hope you will feel better
tomorrow," he said rather wearily and left me. A
last goodbye and not even an apology of sentiment —
not even an extra pressure of the hand!

As the train moved out I was sorely depressed — the
banks of my eyes kept overflowing with a salt mist
over which I had no control, as I dreamed tear-
stained dreams to the accompaniment of an aching
heart. Possibly I was nervous and supersensitive,
but my heart cried out for human sympathy — human
understanding. I felt though that I had passed out
beyond that forever — that I was a creature of an-
other realm.

Any storm, emotional or otherwise, must spend
itself, and generally the more intense it is the sooner
it is over — so it was in this instance. I seemed grad-
ually to come back to earth and to wrap myself about
with that indefinable foolish thing that we are so
pleased to call "pride," bolstered up by which I was
becoming aggressively independent in thought, when
Meon interrupted:

"He is more unhappy than you are because he
cannot understand what caused you to make such a
startling statement."

Someway I resented Meon's interference in a mat-
ter so exclusively personal and replied with dismis-
sal in my intention :

"It was human sympathy I felt the need of — now
I want none."

"I understand," came softly, "you who have always
been rather indifferent to human sjrmpathy find it
tonight the most desired thing on earth."

"So it seems," I admitted rather reluctantly, as,
with a sigh I lay back on the seat and closed my
eyes with a feeling of being alone in the world, which

i by Google

74 How I Know That

I indulged in its highest key, until a voice broke
the discord:

"When you reach Galveston go to his office and
write according to the dictation which will be given
you."

"Very well," I assented, wondering what other
dreadful thing would be placed upon the already
overburdened records of the day. I was, however,
strangely ready to yield myself to any of its require-
ments, as the force which impelled me was as fasci-
nating as it was potent.

The train being long delayed I did not reach Gal-
veston until after ten o'clock. Upon my arrival I
took a cab which was waiting at the curb and drove
to the house to get the landlady and her husband to
go with me to the office as it was entirely too late to
go alone.

A few minutes later we were in the office and I was
ready to execute that which was required of me.

After the windows were raised and fans turned on
I sat down and began writing according to the dicta-
tion of the voice that was to my companions inau-
dible. I had explained to them that it was a "matter
of business that admitted of no delay," and, no matter
what they thought they were courteous enough to
make no comment. The writing concerned the dis-
posal of my personal property and personal matters
not of interest to one not intimately concerned, there-
fore, it is useless to inflict the reader with such de-
tails. To me it was a very serious matter.

As the midnight hour approached a warning voice
came:

"Tarry not — you will not be supported after twelve
o'clock." I glanced at the clock — it was eleven-
thirty. I resumed writing and continued until a

ib.Googlc

The Dead Are Alive 75

slight touch on the hand attracted my attention to a
small, white, transparent hand hovering over mine,
as in the act of removing the pen from my fingers and
a voice was saying :

"Mind lest you be too late."

It was seven minutes to twelve when I arose, say-
ing:

"We will go now."

The windows were lowered, the fans shut off, the
doors locked and we started down the steps, with an
invisible hand pressing my arm firmly, as though
assisting me. Then I heard the clock striking, one,
two, three — I counted mechanically, dimly realizing
that it was twelve o'clock, the hour against which I
had been warned but without realizing the import
until I felt myself sinking, sinking — falling into
space.

i by Google

yt How I Know That

CHAPTER IX.
AS THE FATAL NIGHT COHES AND GOES.

What my consciousness next recorded was like
unto a dream, vague and unrealistic — I seemed to
hear the dearest voice in the world coming as from
afar, and I was weary — too weary to differentiate
between dreaming and reality. Finally my eyes
slowly opened and dimly I could discern my fiance
sitting near, but I could neither speak nor move.
Noting my open eyes he came quickly to the bed and
asked eagerly:

"How are you, little girl?"

I tried but could not answer — his voice still seemed
far away and I had the impression of having to come
a very long distance before I could respond and so
remained for some time until the "pressure" of dis-
tance gave way and I could feel his warm hand
holding my icy one, of which before I was not con-
scious. It seemed I had just come out from under
a great burden and a thrill of joy passed over me
as I noted the pleasure mirrored in his face at my
return to consciousness. I smiled with an effort and
almost drifted out again as I was very weak and
dominated by a sense of belonging to another world,
the requirements of which were paramount. Thus
for a long time I remained in semi-consciousness,
ready to pass into another realm or remain in this
with equal indifference — nothing seemed to matter.
After a long time I aroused myself sufficiently to ask :

"I thought you were going North at nine some-
thing."

"Your indisposition so worried me that I remained

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 77

over and was not surprised when the long distance
call came for me."

"I am glad you came," I said closing my eyes again
too weary for further thought or conversation, but
was conscious of an undercurrent of pleasure that he
was there — that after all he did take what I said about
dying Tuesday night with the seriousness that I felt
it deserved.

AH that day and night the invisibles hovered about
me. I could feel their touches, hear their voices
whispering softly as they came and went, touching
my fevered brow with their cold fingers. I slept
intermittently, my dreams were peopled with crea-
tures of other worlds and how realistic they seemed I

Then came Tuesday, the day of destiny, the day
of fate, but even this mattered little, the tide was
going out and I was drifting with it in utter disre-
gard.

In the evening when my beloved was leaving he
said:

"Goodnight, and happy dreams — until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow" lingered in a tantalizing way long
after he had gone and I mentally reiterated "tomor-
row — tomorrow," wondering vaguely what the mor-
row would really bring, and as if a part of the half
dream I heard Mrs. P — the landlady, telling the
doctor over the phone that I was resting well and
that she would call him first thing tomorrow — again
I repeated "tomorrow — tomorrow," as though it
were an incantation which would reveal in advance
the hidden mysteries of the day with all of its necro-
logical aspects in which I would be the central figure.
It was very pleasing and I remember repeating to
myself :

i by Google

78 How I Know That

It seems most strange that men should fear to
die;
Seeing that Death, a necessary end
Will come when it will come.

"Please do not sit up with me, it is useless. You
sat up all last night and I know you are tired and
sleepy, I said to Mrs. P, as she came and sat beside
the bed in the semi-darkness.

"I would not think of leaving you alone as sick as
you are — I slept a while this afternoon."

"Come then and lie on the bed beside me — I will
call you if need be." At first she refused, but yield-
ed when she realized that I was determined, and
without removing her clothing lay down beside me,
protesting:

"I would much rather sit up — I'm afraid I'll go
to sleep lying down."

"I will call you, I promise, if need be," I reas-
sured her, for of all kind women she was the kind-
est, and would have watched over me all night witii-
out a moment's rest, rejoicing in her ability to help
some one who needed her — a splendid example of
unselfishness.

The deep quiet of the night had settled slowly
down and I waited with a calmness that was almost
indifference for anything that might eventuate.

MusicI just a few notes at first, then soft, mellow
strains, so low and far away that I had to consciously
shut out all other sounds and lift up my inner self,
as it wertf, to hear, and even then it was tantalizingly
indefinable. Little lights suggestive of miniature
lighming flashes were coming in and going out of
existence giving a suspicion of electricity in the at-
mosphere. Also, there were little round lights roll-

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are AUve 79

ing easily about amid the usual white and color-
tinted clouds that floated undulatingly, and emitted
cold breaths of air, which made me shiver ever and
anon. Caressing voices seemed to come from every-
where as beautiful, diophanous forms passed and re-
passed, beings which long ago my childish fancy
would have painted "angels," — ^just a dream page
from the long- forgotten book of childhood.

Thus half dreaming, half waking, I passed into
the sleep from which I expected to awaken In an-
other world (for which I was neither glad nor sor-
ry), and which was just a drifting out beyond con-
sciousness as an unanchored boat might drift out
from the shore.

The next thing I remember I was sitting bolt up-
right in bed staring about in interrogatory wonder-
ment — ^what was it that had awakened me in so
startling a manner? The impression was that I had
heard a most terrific blast as of a shrill whistle. A firm
voice reminded me that I had gone to sleep with the
expectation of awakening in another realm :

"Fanny, are you ready to come?"

"I am," I replied in perfect confidence as I settled
myself back on the pillows which Mrs. P had re-
adjusted, she having been awakened by my sudden
springing up. To her inquiry as to what the matter
was, I replied:

"Dreaming, I presume," which seemed to satisfy
her, as she resumed her place beside me and I gave
my attention to the presence whom I felt had come
concerning that to which all roads in life lead — death.

"Are you not over-confident?" came an unexpected
query.

"I think not — I am perfectly resigned."

i by Google

8o How I Know That

"Suppose that to be one of the least of the require-
ments?"

"I have taken little thought as to what might or
might not be required of me. I was told that I would
die tonight and feel that I am ready to do so," I re-
plied, somewhat defensively, as I began to wonder
if, after all, there were exactions from the other
world before beings of this could pass into it with
advantage to themselves.

I listened eagerly for a reply but none came; in-
stead a chilly silence, painful in its intensity, seemed
to permeate everything. There was something of
apprehensive bitterness in my heart as I waited un-
til I becan^e weary of waiting, calling vainly into
the dark silence for the messenger whom I felt need-
lessly delayed his coming.

Then the voice came so suddenly it startled me:

"So you are positive you are ready to come?"

"I think so — doubtless you knovj," with rising sar-
casm.

"I do," came the decisive answer — then slowly and
impressively, "know that you are not."

"I was told that I was to die tonight," I reminded,
feeling that some defense was necessary.

"Are there no other Tuesday nights?"

"Yes," I admitted, realizing with disappointment
that I had erred in accepting this night as the one
intended. Orthodox religious teachings to the con-
trary, I had never seriously considered the necessity
of making preparations for an entry into the life or
condition beyond what we term "death," and I failed
to understand why I should be detained in this phase
of life when I felt willing and ready to pass beyond
it After considering the matter a few minutes and

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 8i

casually reviewing my past life, from which no
crimes sprang up to accuse me, I asked :

"Would you mind indicating some of the offenses
which delay me here?"

"Practically all the crimes and offenses in the
world can be covered by one little word — selfishness."

"Surely you do not insinuate that I am selfish. I
have always considered myself quite generous."

"There is no virtue in generosity to those whom
we love or those to whom it is due, but to those who
need our generosity." And the voice trailed off into
a sadness that touched a vulnerable spot somewhere
within me and I shrank in a self -condemnatory way,
for I remembered that I had been rather remiss in
considering those in life less fortunate than myself;
the fact that I could trace my ancestry back to when
the centuries were few had always appealed to me
much more strongly than that which today I know
is the greatest possibility and privilege of humanity
— the brotherhood of man. I needed no accuser ; my
own conscience was sufficient and made me intensely
uncomfortable, as I thought of the many good deeds
I might have done and didn't. Vain regret is not
a desirable companion when Azrael stands beside
the bed. i.-'^., tX ^f cU. ,>',■,

J I-
It isn't the things you do, dear,

Its the things you leave undone
That gives you the bit of heartache
At the setting of the sun.

Then came a question more disconcerning than all
things else :

"What of your free-thinking?"

"I was — er — but," I began floundering under the

i by Google

82 How I Know That

weight of self condemnation, "but, now I know dif
ferent"

"Rather late, is it not?"

"So it is," I admitted, and an awful agonizing mO'
ment passed before the voice came again :

"That is not so bad. Thought is as much a matter
of evolution as anything else — in fact more so. The
truth which is to liberate the world is actually wait-
ing upon thought evolution."

A great joyousness flooded my soul — had I heard
aright? TTiat there was no condemnation for me
who had dared to say to God, "If there be a God — if
there be a hereafter — I demand some tangible evi-
dence." The evidence had certainly been given and
yet such a demand required no retribution!! It
seemed incredible — but what was the meaning of
"truth waiting upon thought evolution to liberate the
world ?" I had waded out into very deep water and
the only refuge I had was the return to my mental
attitude of chafing because I had to wait at least
another week to solve the mystery of mysteries, feel-
ing that if "free-thinking" was no offense I had com-
mitted no others and my soul was crying out "why
not tonight?"

"When you understand you will be thankful that
there are other Tuesday nights," came the voice sol-
emnly, but I could not bring myself to feel thankful
for that which seemed to me so depressingly un-
necessary. In the heaviness of disappointment sleep
began "weighing my eyelids down," but just as I
was crossing the mystic bridge between sleeping and
waking, the voice called me back with a question so
seemingly frivolous that I fancied I had not heard
aright — it was repeated:

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive 83

"If you gave a box party at the theatre would you
go as you are or would you dress for the occasion?"
"Dress for the occasion, of course," I made answer
promptly, wondering what spirits had to do with
theatres and vice versa.

"Yet you would permit your soul to enter into a far
greater throng inappropriately clad?"

"I do not know how a soul should be clothed," I
replied after a moment's hesitation, then added ir-
relevantly, "We have no soul-tailors on earth."

"Each soul is its own tailor — the garments are of ]
the soul's own weaving," came solemnly. -^

"Are they hard to make?" I asked, half derisively.
"That depends on the soul to be fitted."
"Mine, for instance," I persisted irreverently, sup-
pressing a perverse amusement, which was doubt-
less as foolish as it was ill-timed.

"Permit me to suggest that this is a very serious
matter — certainly not one for your amusement," came
the voice in cold, stern rebuke, which sobered me so
suddenly that it seemed to blast all humor out of my
system for all time.

"Forgive me, please — my disappointment at re-
maining on earth after I was so sure of leaving it is
the only defense I have to offer for my rudeness," I
pleaded, a deep penitence spreading over me as I
realized that subconsciously I was exercising the re-
resentment I felt for being alive after the hour in
which I expected transition had come and gone.
The voice came gently :

"That is well; now we can take up the subject
with the seriousness it demands."

"I am listening," I said meekly, settling down to
the seriousness I felt was required of me (and it was
no pretense). I had had my lesson.

i by Google

84 How I Know That

"No error," began the voice, clear and soft, "must
enter into the weaving of such garments — one false
thread and the weaving must all be done over again
and thus cycles of time are wasted — the goal is per-
fection."

"I will abide by your instructions."

"The simplicity of which will doubtless disappoint
you, but remember 'he who is faithful in little will
be faithful in much' — the little things of everyday
life are really the great things — the soul tests."

"I pledge my faith in all things great and small,"
I made avowal and my soul was strong in the prom-
ise of fulfillment.

"A pledge cannot be violated — it were better had
you made no pledge, but having made it you must
abide thereby."

"I intend to."

That the requirements, according to our mundane
conceptions, were not elaborate, we must admit, as
they are practically covered by the following, to-wit:

(i) The Golden Rule (the law of action).

(2) Unselfish, helpful love, embracing all living
things (the law of sentiment).

(3) A recognition of oneness with Infinity, in all
the word implies (embracing all mankind)
(the law of Divinity).

Then followed what one might call personal in-
structions. A daily bath was a requirement which
admitted of no interference; moderation and self
control in all things and under all conditions; pure-
ness of thought; truthfulness of tongue, serenity of
mind. Patience and endurance were impressed as

ly Google

The Dead Are Alive 85

virtues everlasting. A ready willingness to pass from
this life into the next as though it were but a con-
scious continuation of this in a higher, better sense
was the last injunction. It was impressed upon me
that the earth-life, lived in accordance with the fore-
going, breeds no complications in the Hereafter for
there arc no chains binding us to our previous actions.

I considered all that had been said to me very
seriously and reviewed it carefully in my mind, tabu-
lating it mentally that no omission might creep in.
As I did so a few bars of music struck in almost ab-
ruptly and as it toned down softly, a voice which
seemed far away, floated back in weird impressive-
ness:

"Oh, weaver of thy freedom, be faithful."

I shivered a bit, and moved restlessly, as the words
seemed to come down and cover me with a responsi-
bility that was "closer than hands and feet" — an in-
escapable thing. As though taking hold of a piece
of dynamite I repeated cautiously and carefully —
"Oh, weaver of thy freedom, be faithful," and as if
it required a renewal of my pledge, in all serious-
ness my soul again made the promise, "I will be
faithful in all things." Then the very air seemed
charged with something not of earth and I was in-
finitely happy, as though I were equal to any re-
sponsibility laid upon me, regardless of what it was,
recognizing no impossibilities.

Perhaps I should write more fully of that night's
unfoldments and revelations of strange, weird, unex-
plainable things which filled it to overflowing, but I
hesitate to tax, too far, the credulity of those who
read with the hope and purpose of gleaning a little
ray of light on a subject which is, unfortunately,
shrouded in an obscurity which can be illuminated

i by Google

86 How I Know That

only by its own light — each human being must know
for himself. My knowledge can help no one ; it can
only induce persons to investigate for themselves.

Suffice it to say it was an experience — a night — I
would not care to duplicate nor would I care to ob-
literate. No matter what it may have given or taken,
I came from under the darkness of it with a knowl-
edge that while there are invisible entities of love and
beauty touching intimately our mundane existence
there are also, touching as intimately, entities of the
opposite tendencies.

After the many lessons of the night had been, at
least in part, assimilated, and the room grew gray-
tinted with the dawn, there passed in review beings
which seemed expressions of the different cycles of
existence. After various manifestations, there were
materialized human beings, which disappeared only
to reappear in phantom forms, then came the light-
emitting, mist-shrouded creatures of perfection, so
beautiful and weird it was like unto a dream, follow-
ing which circling little lights appeared within what
seemed a powerful, electrified light that flooded
everything, embraced everything, scintillating with
color and brilliancy — of which I seemed a part in
veritable, uplifting joyousness.

Slowly it all faded out and then there came a few
minutes of breathless suspense, lest beings of oppo-
site tendencies should feel called upon to disport
themselves in parade, but to my infinite relief they
did not — daylight flooded the room instead — the day-
light that mocked me for being alive and seemed to
demand an apology that my earthly existence dared
intrude itself upon its light.

Yes, the day had come and I looked out upon a

ibvGoogle

The Dead Are Alive 87

world that was as changed, in so far as I was con-
cerned, as though I had in reality passed into the
beyond ; I realized then it would never be the same
old world to me again — and it never has been.

i by Google

How I Know That

CHAPTER X.

WEAVING TANGLED THREADS OF
MYSTERY.

As the day wore on the bathing proposition came
squarely before me, but I was so weak it seemed im-
possible to get out of bed, to say nothing of indulging
in such exercise. However, after I had argued it out
with myself and felt justified in refraining, that
weird sentence floated back in a tantalizing way —
"Oh, weaver of thy freedom, be faithful," and the
echo of my promise, "I will be faithful," mocked me
with the realization that my "faithfulness" had be-
come a shrinking thing in the presence of the first de-
mand made upon it. Then I determined to bathe
regardless of consequences.

It was well into the afternoon before this unex-
pected determination floated into speech, which
brought forth the storm of protest I expected.
While I realized how unreasonable my act must ap-
pear to those who could not understand, I was none
the less determined upon its execution — if my
strength permitted, which I really doubted. After
arguing for some time, putting forth every reason,
except the real one, why I should bathe, the point
was yielded to me, with much misgiving in which I
confess I secretly shared.

After a few minutes I arose, at first in bed, then
on the bed side, where I remained for some time
weak and trembling, the object of Mrs. P's kind but
most disapproving contemplation.

Then, with a supreme effort I rose to my feet ex-
pecting my weight to bear me down to the floor, but

ly Google

The Dead Are Alive 89

instead there seemed no weight. A force, suggestive
of strong hands, held me so lightly that the act of
walking was like treading on air and the putting of
one foot before the other merely mechanical. This
strength which came to me as a thing apart, yet mine
to use, remained with me throughout the bath and
until I returned to bed, where the weakness and
weariness came upon me as before. Yet an under-
current of exhilaration remained until long after.

That was rather an unusual bath in more ways than
one. When the water was turned on it came with a
"sizzling" sound, which I could hear through the
open door between my bedroom and bathroom before
going in. I paid very little attention to it but fancy
my surprise when I stepped into it, expecting it to be
cold and found it almost uncomfortably hot!

I came near jumping out so unexpected was the
shock. I never use warm or hot baths (except the
Turkish), therefore there was no connection nor
provision made for heating the water, rendering it
impossible for the water to have been heated without
my knowledge, nor was this the only time the water
was heated by the same process. No explanation was
made as to the modus operandi of the heating. Of
course, we all know a sub-normal temperature pro-
duces the illusion of heat but what about the "sizz-
ling" sound? Of course, some of our orthodox
friends may suggest my proximity to a locality where
such conditions prevail as a natural sequence, but, as
I am leaving much of what I am writing to the
construction of any one who cares to assume the re-
sponsibility, I will not attempt an explanation where
none has been given to me, feeling that every human
being has as much right to his or her opinions as I
have to mine. I am simply relating these incidents,

i by Google

90 How I Know That

as they came to me, painfully personal though they
are, because that which gave them to me insists that
they were not given for me alone, so I am just passing
them along so others may know that these mani-
festations are possible for all who care to investigate
for themselves, and abide by the requirements.

How changed the whole world seemed I Instead
of joyous anticipation at the coming of my Beloved
in the evening I dreaded his coming with a guilty
sense of deception, feeling that I would rather have
died any death than to have lived to face him, a
living exemplification of prevarication, illusion,
madness or what not. Yet when he came my unrest
vanished before the frank joyousness of his smile,
which said, plainer than words, how pleased he was
that the night had passed without taking me with it.
I so wanted to explain to him — tell him just how it
was, but he was a free-thinker and not believing,
would not understand; so, perforce, I refrained,
leaving him to place his own construction on it — he
made no reference to it nor did I.

As the days went on I took my baths without in-
terference as their strength-giving and refreshing ef-
fect was patent to all, for which I was very grateful,
as the baths gave many delightful diversions. In-
visible hands would sometimes playfully dash the
water over me, even into my face and over my hair,
laughing the while in a light, mirthful way, while
glimpses of faces came and went, ever changing; and
cold breezes would persist until I would come out of
the water shivering, as light-hearted and carefree as
a child at play. The impression was always that of
children or fairies at play, in which I believed as a
child, and I remember wondering if some such ex-
perience as this had not given rise to these wonder-

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive 91

ful stories which are so appealing and fascinating to
the childish imagination — who knows?

Then dawned another Tuesday. A cloudy, rainy
day; but to me it was very beautiful, as I awaited the
coming of the night as the fulfillment of the promise
for which I had worked and waited with a purpose
and patience that was new to my nature.

As the night came down the very atmosphere
seemed glorified, seemed to caress me, and my whole
being breathed responsiveness, as I waited in absolute
certainty for that which long delayed its coming —
for that which came not. How endless the night
seemed as I lay awake quivering with expectancy,
counting every hour as the clock struck, feeling that
when it struck again I would not be there to count
Still I waited — waited for the call for which I felt
myself ready in every way — ^just waited until the
dawn came and then the sunrise. It is much to re-
alize just how blank and empty life can really be. It
seemed utterly impossible to take up the burden again
— to act in accordance with the persistent require-
ments which my promise of "faithfulness" involved.
The temptation to denounce it all was strong upon
me — it seemed some hallucination or delusion was
chaining me to itself — that I had to free myself of it
and I would! Rash were the resolves I made and
meant to abide by! Chief among these was, that I
would get up out of bed, that I would never listen
to another voice and never do another thing that was
included in my promise of "faithfulness."

This inharmonious mood lasted until well into the
afternoon — until time for the bath, which I had
promised myself, in all seriousness, that I would not
take. Then the feeling of uneasiness — the sensation
of something important being left undone, began

i by Google

92 How I Know That

tantalizing me. As I was trying to be firm in my
resistance, I could feel hands pushed under between
me and the mattress, impelling me upward, as though
suggesting that I get up. This made me more de-
termined that ever in my resistance — I simply had
had enough of having my seriousness trifled with I
Suddenly something lifted me up, as though I were
a feather, and stood me with emphasis on the floor.
In obedience to it I marched into the bathroom and
stepped into the tub. I had passed again under the
dominance of that mysterious force from which there
seemed to be no escape — and the strangest part was
that while really under it there was no desire to have
it otherwise. As Z had said I would not bathe there
was no water turned on, so I took the hose which I
attached and used in preference to the regular spray,
as it shared less of the bath with the floor, and pro-
ceeded. As I sat with the water pouring over me, my
attention was attracted to something moving at the
point where the hose ejected the water. I looked at
it closely but could see nothing but a miniature reflec-
tion of my face — ^what any one would see — and pro-
ceeded with the "showering," but the attraction in-
creased with such absorbing insistence that I again
took the hose firmly in my hand and held it near my
eyes with the same result, only to have the same irre-
sistible attraction hold me when I began bathing
again. This time I held it up with the resolve that
I would either allay its disturbing attractiveness or
leave the bath, feeling that possibly this mode of
bathing was not entirely in favor with that under
whose direction it was being taken and this was be-
ing done to cause me to change it; and not having
altogether recovered from my attack of disobedience,
I did not care especially whether it pleased or not

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are AHve 93

Yes, there was the miniature reflection of my face in
the water — but there was something else. Reflected
above the head was something white, which upon
close scrutiny appeared as a scroll in the process of
folding and unfolding. Suspended from it, hang-
ing directly (reflected) in front of my face, parallel
with my mouth was a perfectly round, black ball
about two inches in diameter, jumping as though
suspended by a rubber cord. As I viewed it in as-
tonishment, a voice said:
"When it touches your mouth you will die."
This extraordinary statement shocked me for a
moment, but inspired by its potentiality I sat before
it, expecting that any moment might bring the col-
lision, which I had neither the power nor the wish to
avoid. The ball swayed back and forth all but touch-
ing me, bounding lightly away only to repeat the
performance, while I watched it eagerly for some
time, until I again felt that my seriousness was being
trifled with and left the bath with something akin to
resentment in my heart — I was terribly unhappy.

The reflection of that white, ever folding and un-
folding scroll, with the little bounding black ball, was
the most persistent of all the phenomena that came
to me, and really uninteresting after the first few
times. It was often reflected in water or wine as I
turned the glass up to drink, nearly always at the end
of the hose as I bathed; when looking in a mirror it
was as distinctly discernible as my face. However,
I never saw it except as a reflection in which my face
shared. Rarely a day passed that I did not see it in
some form, yet the scroll never quite unwound nor
did the litde ball, as near as it came, ever touch my
mouth. What purpose it served I do not know, un-
less it was to keep the consciousness of approaching

i by Google

94 How I Know That

death ever in my mind, which, at that time, seemed
the necessary condition, rendering me receptive to
what subsequently followed.

As the days went on I grew no better — no worse —
just remained at the dead level of monotony — fever
fluctuating around a half degree when the tempera-
ture was not subnormal. I realized that I was not
sick in the generally accepted term but at times I
was so weak I could hardly raise my hands. My
limbs, hands, arms, and sometimes my entire body
would have a feeling of numbness such as when one's
foot "goes to sleep" as the children say. Nothing
strengtihened me, although I took the medicines pre-
scribed by the doctors, rigidly — I wont say uncom-
plainingly. I tried to do everything that was re-
quired of me by the material as well as spiritual
forces, which clashed, at times, very disagreeably.

There seemed a force greater than the most potent
medicines holding me in just the condition that best
served the purpose of these manifestations. I seemed
an intermundane creature, suspended, as it were, be-
tween life and so-called death — a receiving station —
a creature of both worlds, yet of neither, and reader,
please don't envy me.

Voices would come prognosticating things that did
not eventuate, telling strange, weird and wonderful
stories, all of which I, at first, believed. Then a new
strength grew up within me — discrimination — mak*
ing my perception so strong that I could not only
discriminate between the voices of truth and decep-
tion but could feel the approach of an undesirable
presence, which I met with the command "depart,"
and in no sense was this command violated. How-
ever, in a few instances the presence would stop and
plicad to be permitted to come nearer, as though it

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 95

could be greatly helped thereby — but that "still small
voice" within permitted no such intimacies.

When I had become what one might term superior
to these deceptions there were great demonstrations
of joy in the spirit world as though I had made a
great advance — as though I had won a hard fought
battle. I shared in these rejoicings; feeling that per-
haps this was my passport to that "far country" into
which my entry had been so grievously delayed; and
half expecting to enter then and there, while the soft
music fell upon me like a benediction.

Then the voices, the rejoicings, the music ceased
and I waited — just waited on the ragged edge of
quivering expectancy in the stillness of the night.

i by Google

96 Hotv I Know That

CHAPTER XI.
THE CHOIR INVISIBLL

The best music is not complete — it ever suggests something
beyond — it is only a symbol of a spiritual condition which we
seek to attain.

Beethoven.

I was so depressed, weak and listless the next day
that despite my protestations a trained nurse was in-
stalled. From the beginning it was one of the doc-
tor's recommendations that I refused to comply with,
feeling in advance resentment for the constant pres-
ence of a human being who might interfere with my
companionable relations with the beings of the shad-
ow realms, which I preferred to the mundane, feeling
that I belonged more to the other side of life than
to this. But really her presence made little or no
difference, as she could not see what I saw nor hear
what I heard — she was not a "receiving station,"
therefore could not be brought into conscious con-
tact with the finer forces. Nevertheless I resented
her and was not altogether careful about conceal-
ing it. Her respect for duty was most abnormal-
ly developed as she administered according to the
doctor's directions with an insistence that pre-
cluded the omission of a single pill. I stoically took
her doses just as I did the attentions which she
felt it was her duty to bestow, and I always added
a few drops of that insidious soul poison — self-pity.

My little dog shared my resentment at her coming
to such an extent that he had to be sent away and
given into the care of a friend, where he had every
care and comfort and was brought for a daily visit

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 97

to me, at which times he was either joyous in his
demonstrations or would not come near me, evi-
dencing a fear that made him very cautious in
even wagging his tail at a safe distance. Some-
times, forgetful of caution he would run and
jump on the bed, but when he noted the object of his
disapproval he would hurriedly leap off and either
go under the bed or to the farthest corner of the
room, leaving no question as to his ability to see and
understand that which to mortal senses was not dis-
cernible. He seemed to be the only thing in the
world that understood, yet he denied me the sym-
pathy of his understanding.

I was not long in realizing that I was violating one
of the strictest injunctions of my promise of "faith-
fulness" in mental attitude where the nurse was con-
cerned, and made amends accordingly, which gave
me the sensation of another victory won, in which
the invisible forces made their approval felt.

It was a calm, still moonlit night — the kind that
seems to call one to come out under the stars and just
weave dreams in harmony with its tenderness and
beauty. I had fallen under the spell of it and was
just listlessly dreaming — half thinking. It seemed I
had attained a fuller sense of harmony with the high-
er forces — that in some way I was lifted up to a
higher consciousness than I had before realized — to a
different vibration. Soft, quivering, indefinable life
seemed to interpenetrate the atmosphere with the
suggestion as of soundless music and a subnormal
stillness was upon everything, as I lay in happy rest-
fulness within it. Then suddenly there burst on the
stillness music the like of which I had never heard —
the whole invisible world seemed a gigantic orches-
tra, yet there was something so soft about the music

i by Google

98 Hoiv I Know That

that breathing sounded above it as a profane thing in
that ethereal atmosphere. It was spontaneous ; music
without the sound of the instrument, voices without
the effort of production, just concentrated harmony
sinking into the soul, touching a chord so responsive
that it seemed a soul communion rather than a thing
apart — the real music of which the mundane is only
a shadow.

I had never before heard anything so wonderful as
on this occasion although it was really not my first
audience to the "Choir Invisible." I remember some
years ago I was very ill with measles complicated by
pneumonia — a necrological combination, at best, es-
pecially so, as I was no longer a child. All hope of
recovery had been abandoned by my father and the
physician who sat through the "night watches," hop-
ing against hope.

It was a cold January night and a blizzard, ac-
companied by sleet and snow, was wildly sweeping
the country and howling uproariously. I was sup-
posed to be unconscious, but I heard the wind as it
whistled, shrieked and drove against the shutters, yet
above all, soft, zephyr-like music was as perceptible
and distinct as though nothing broke the stillness.
Even now I remember the very tunes and have often
tried to "cage" them on the piano, but when I seek
most ardently they elude me most effectively.

All night long the duet of music and storm played
on — one raging in its fury — the other soft as the
silence, yet each distinctly audible.

When the night was all but giving way to day the
doctor felt my pulse, professionally at first, then
eagerly, motioning to my father to come nearer,
which he did, waiting for the verdict. One long
minute they stood both eagerly watching my face.

ibvGooglc

The Dead Are Alive 99

"She will live," said the doctor solemnly, turning
to my father, who replied ardently :

"Thank God," as my eyes opened in perfect con-
sciousness and I murmured "Such music — such mu-
sic," which caused my father to look disappointed, as
he considered me delirious, but the doctor reassured
him:

"That is not unusual in her condition."

No one seemed to understand when I made refer-
ence to the music I had heard so I gradually re-
frained from speaking of it, storing it away in
the casket of sweet, sacred memories where it has
since remained. Yet compared to the music I had
just heard it seemed so insignificant, it was hardly
worth remembering — it was like the sun shutting out
the brilliance of the stars. I fully realize that to one
who does not understand, this music is a mystical un-
reality, but to the person hearing it it is more than
real.

On waking in the morning I was possessed with an
almost uncontrollable desire to share my knowledge
of the existence of such music. I wanted to tell some
one about it ; it was too wonderful a thing to be selfish
about. The constraint which advisability placed up-
on me made me so unhappy that, in my heart, I cried
out against the force that held my soul in one world
and left my body in the other, a creature of the earth
life, a part of it and apart from it. While I did not
fail to realize that "in this great moral conflict we
must go forth alone," I also realized that it was a
grand sentiment but a dreary practice. I deplored
being hedged in, as it were, by tiie materialism of the
spiritually blind that surrounded me — feeling that
there must be some one, somewhere, who could un-

i by Google

lOO How I Know That

derstand, but such an one seemed not amongst my
acquaintances.

I wished my fiance was less dogmatic on the sub-
ject — but to mention it in his presence was like touch-
ing a match to a powder magazine. While I deplored
this I tried to be reasonable and did not resent it, as
I knew if conditions were reversed and, in the days
of my materialism, he had come to me with such
stories I fear my toleration would not have been so
elastic as his had proven itself. At times, however,
I brooded over the conviction that, had he chosen he
could have enlightened me on the subject, or at least
its theories, as I recalled having heard him relate,
in derision, incidents of what he termed "spiritual-
istic phenomena." Knowing nothing of the subject,
it never especially appealed to me and rather sub-
consciously I assumed his attitude toward it. All re-
ligions were alike to us — "the metaphysics of the
masses," as Schopenhauer puts it. But now how dif-
ferent! I knew I had heard music not of the earth
but who would believe it I Then I wrestled with
self-pity, feeling that I was alone ; that alone I drifted
on the relentless seas of other realms to sink or swim
as my own strength might determine. This was
really not very far from the truth, but it is not nearly
so tragic as it then seemed.

While in this unenviable frame of mind, a friend,
Mrs. S, came in, and I was more than glad to see
her as she is of that rare companionable temperament
whose very presence exudes sympathetic understand-
ing. With a cheery "How are you, dear?" she came
directly to the bed and sat down beside me. Demon-
strating my pleasure at her coming, I laid my hand
caressingly on her arm. In an instant a strong force,

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive loi

as of an invisible hand, pressed mine down on her
arm with such emphasis that it was perceived by her.
We looked at each other with understanding and then
spoke freely of that which had long been calling for
human understanding. She did not seem to regard
my experiences as especially wonderful or unreason-
able, and, above all, she did not glare at me as though
she considered me quite mad, for which I covered her
with the mantle of my gratitude and pulled her face
down to mine and kissed it, as the invisible forces
began clattering away on the metal bedstead as
though it were a telegraph battery. Looking at me,
smilingly she said: "I hear them," as she arose to
give place to newly arrived visitors, who could not
see, feel, hear or understand, and looked at her
strangely when she shivered and said, "It is like cold
storage in here — I'm freezing." While perspiring
and fanning themselves they started an argument
about the heat of the day, suggesting that she must be
ill to feel cold in such torrid weather. I paid the
newly arrived guests little attention ; I was reveling in
the satisfaction of having heard at least one human
being admit the existence of "spirits," as she termed
them. It is impossible to conceive what this little
grain of sympathy and understanding meant to one so
utterly deprived of both.

In the evening when my fiance came he was de-
lighted that my condition was so improved and fore-
saw that I would be well in a few days if such im-
provement continued. I refrained from mentioning
the cause but assured him that I was feeling splendid-
ly, and we chatted unreservedly of things that sug-
gested themselves without intruding upon the sub-
ject that had come like the serpent in Eden, and im-
parted to me wisdom of which he knew nothing, and

i by Google

102 How I Know That

which formed a kind of intangible barrier that both
recognized silently and tried to ignore.

In the presence of his love and solicitude I would
forget that I had affianced myself to death — that I
belonged to another world. When he was with me
the touch of his hand, the radiating aura of his love,
his magnetism, made me want to live and love and
sing with him always beside me — "we, two, together,"
but when he went away, lacking the magnetism of
his presence I would again fall under the domina-
tion of the force that held me in willing readiness
to pass beyond this realm. Listening to the "choir
invisible," my soul would lift above the mundane
and I would close my eyes in anguish at the delay, as
a bride might whose bridegroom delayed his coming.

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive 103

CHAPTER XII.
DEFINING SOUL AND BODY.

"And there are diversities of operations but it is the same
Cod that worketh all in all.

"But the mamfestation of the spirit is given to every tntm
to profit withal.

"For to one is given by the spirit the word of wisdom, to
another, the word of knowledge by the same spirit.

"To another the working of miracles; to another prophecy;
to another discerning of spirits; to another, divers kinds of
tongues; to another, the interpretation of tongues;

"But ail this worketh that one and the selfsame spirit, di-
viding to every man severally as he will."

PIRST CORINTHIANS — 12; 6 tO II.

I could'not sleep, so heavily did depression weigh
upon me. I was tired of waiting and there was re-
volt in my soul against what seemed trivial require-
ments and needless delay. A reproving voice intrud-
ed itself into my rebellious consciousness:

"Why do you permit such thoughts to dominate
you ?"

"I am tired of life and everything in it," I replied,
as petulantly as I felt.

"Everytime you fall into such vibrations you move
the time of your release further away."

"Well, I'll just live then," I snapped. "I am
ready and willing to die, but I shall not remain here
forever waiting to do so. I shall get up tomorrow
and try to forget that I was ever identified with such
a torturing mystery."

iy Google

104 How I Know That

"Hush, child, you know not of what you speak."

"Then why don't you explain it to me instead of
leaving me harassed by uncertainty and torn by its
attending tortures?"

"To know life you must live — to know death you
must die."

"But there is no death," I insisted.

"It is the name by which the birth into the higher
life — the real life — is recognized."

"Tell me about it, wont you?" I pleaded with new
interest.

"To know death you must die," repeated the voice
so impressively that a shiver ran over me, for the
very presence of death seemed in the room, as with
awe I listened for the voice to further enlighten me
concerning "Death, the hidden, dark way between
the threshold and the light." Instead I heard the
night birds singing and crickets chirping in a dis-
mal sort of way, and realizing that the interview was
over I repeated dreamily to myself, trying to realize
its import: "To know death you must die."

The next morning I was awakened by a magnifi-
cent rendition from II Trovatore in Italian. So
natural did it seem that I looked about the room half
expecting to see the singer, but the song ended al-
most before I could appreciate the beauty of it I
listened a long time, hoping for its return but it had
not come when my attention was diverted by the
arrival from Dallas of an immense express package
which proved to be roses and ferns sufficient to deco-
rate a banquet hall.

With gratitude to the sender for thus indulging
my love for flowers, I had the box put on the bed
so I could help take them out and arrange them as
fancy might dictate. With this end in view I had

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are AUve 105

all my vases, some rare and beautiful, brought and
placed in waiting for the floral burden. Pedestals,
impromptu and otherwise, were arranged about the
room. Statues were removed to give place to flower-
laden vases — even the jardiniers were filled to over-
flowing.

All day long I reveled in this gift from nature's
storehouse of loveliness and when the night came
"the scent of the sleeping roses" mingled their fra-
grance with my dreams.

Suddenly I was awakened — ^wide awake without
any apparent cause. After listening for a few min-
utes into the "silence" without hearing anything I
looked about but could see nothing and decided that
I had only awakened just as any one might. After
breathing deeply of the scent of the roses I would
have slept again but a voice which seemed nearer than
usual said firmly:

"Arise and move that table to your bedside."

I heard but doubted.the evidence of my hearing, as
the onyx table alone was beyond the capacity of my
strength but now that it was heavily laden with vases
filled with flowers it was not to be considered. To
move it would be to break the vases and my mind's
ears seemed to hear in advance the crash that would
arouse the "dragon" (nurse) and what a time I would
have explaining to her I

Thus hesitating I remained in bed in a semi-re-
clining position, resting on one elbow, looking hope-
lessly toward the table and then at the face of the
sleeping nurse, whom I could not see very well. The
sound of her deep, regular breathing, however, was
more reassuring than the sight of her face would
have been.

Reluctantly obeying a force that was stronger than

ib. Google

io6 How I Know That

my inclination to disobey, I arose cautiously creep-
ing on tiptoe to the table with fear and trembling
for the lives of my vases and thinking of the humilia-
tion to myself when the nurse should arise in the
execution of her duty.

I stood for a moment beside the table, tears welling
up into my eyes at the tyranny of a force that not
only compelled me to attempt the impossible but to
destroy my treasured vases which held the fragrant
offering that had come to gladden my tired senses.
While thus hesitating, I could feel the force pressing
me, very pronouncedly, bearing heavily upon me,
pushing me nearer and nearer the table until I
touched it with my body. Then in the desperation of
accepting the inevitable, I placed both hands upon its
sides, testing it for the safest and most effective hold.
To my surprise as well as relief, it lifted lightly and
floated gently to the bedside without disarranging as
much as a rose, leaving me standing in amazement just
where I had stood when I placed my hands upon it,
and too much relieved that no harm had come to the
vases to fully appreciate the wonder of the perform-
ance.

After standing in petrified amazement for some
minutes with my eyes fixed upon the table, I slowly
walked over and again stood by it and being very,
weak, put one hand on it to steady myself, but quickly
removed it, as there was a distinct shock as of elec-
tricity, which caused me to refrain from further
direct contact with it.

A voice came in a tone deep with seriousness:

"Choose a red rose and white one — the red one
you will hold in your right hand, the white in your
left." This I did and the voice commanded, "Now
get into bed."

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive 107

Obedience was never one of my virtues, even as a
child, and I resented its exactions upon any circum-
stances, therefore, I got into the bed slowly, deliber-
ately, arranging my pillows with exaggerated pre-
cision despite the roses in my hands, feeling that I
should be requested to do these things, not command-
ed. Finally I lay down with a red rose crushed in
my right hand and a white one in my left, wondering
what would be the next requirement or what would
be the outcome of what the night had already re-
quired.

I was so weak and tired that I did not prognosti-
cate very long as I felt sleep coming gently down and
shutting out all perplexities. This condition was
instantly and most effectively relieved by the calm
announcement :

"You are going to petrify tonight."

"What?" I cried in alarm, echoing "Petrify?" but
no further explanation was vouchsafed.

"What did you say?" I called again and again into
the unresponsive blackness, and even while I listened
a coldness began creeping upon me and continued
ever increasing until I felt that I was freezing,

I did everything I could to shake it off, feeling
that I was a victim of suggestion. I told myself in
all seriousness that I was not cold at all but was in-
stead comfortably warm and honestly tried to feel
myself so, even when the sense of coldness became
so intense that to deny it was unreasonable. I could
have cried out for cover though the night was hot,
with a sultry threatening of rain in the atmosphere
and not a breath of air stirring.

I looked about the room but the semi-darkness
showed it to be normal except for a frosty mist that
was hanging about with a bluish light scintillating

i by Google

io8 How I Know That

and spreading itself in pale illumination. The table
stood beside the bed and as if to reassure myself — to
prove its presence — I reached out my hand, still re-
taining the rose, and took a piece of fern that lay
loosely upon it and pressed it into my hair, which
was rather loose and disheveled about my face, as
my hair generally is at night (I like to sleep with it
unconfined). I do not remember that I had any de-
fined motive in the act unless it was the subconscious
desire for material confirmation of that which was
in the act of transpiring.

A moment later I could move neither hand nor
foot, could not move a muscle in my body as it be-
came rigid, the eyes wide open and the power of
speech gone. I think I must have been rather terri-
fied or distressed for an instant, for I remember the
impulse of tearing myself away from it, which grad-
ually gave place to resignation and observation.

The very atmosphere in the room seemed electri-
fied, alive, and out of its quivering vibrations came
the form of my mother, who stood by the bedside
looking down upon me lovingly and tenderly with
great illuminated eyes. She wore a gray dressing
gown, which I recognized as the one she had worn
when last I saw her in the earth life. In her hand
she held a gorgeous white flower, stretching it toward
me, almost touching my face with it. The fragrance
seemed to fill the entire room, neutralizing, over-
powering that of the earth flowers, and my mood
blended into the perfect harmony of the offering, I
wanted to reach out and take the flower from her
but conscious of the impotency of my hand, manacled
by some strange power, I could only glance at it as it
lay out from me showing tiny glimpses of crushed
red petals between the clasped fingers. So life-like

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive 109

did she seem that the impulse was strong upon me to
kiss her and tell her how glad I was that she had
come, but this being impossible, I cried out mentally:
"Mama — little mama — speak to me."
"The body is to the soul what the flower is to the
fragrance," she whispered softly and smilingly, and
then slowly faded away while still I was looking at
the place where she had stood, my soul calling to
her to come back, though the cold was stiffening my
body and freezing my blood. Then I fell to wonder-
ing if clothes and flowers really have souls that pass
into other realms, and are these still the possessions
of those who owned them in the earth life — do they
have souls at all? Was there really no end to perplex-
ing problems to press in upon one from every side?
My attention was diverted by Meon standing before
me, plainer and more illuminated than I ever had
seen him before. I called out to him :
"Meon, what is the matter — am I dying?"
He looked into my eyes steadily and ignoring my
question said impressively:

"Truth stands unveiled before thee — let it not pass
unobserved," and with his steady gaze upon me, re-
sistence and perplexities gave way and I began trying
to analyze my predicament as the cold waves, like a
rising tide, every surge of which was perceptible,
ebbed nearer and nearer life's centre. Then, as it
were, I felt them touch, and stiffened as the full tide
of insensibility enveloped me physically while men-
tally I grew proportionately more active and dis-
cerning. I could no longer see Meon but felt that
he was near, still looking at me with sternness in his
eyes and command in his attitude, impelling me to a
discernment that, inferring from his words and atti-
tude was very essential. Then I felt myself to be

i by Google

I lo How I Know That

absolutely alone, alone with the mystery of myself,
the roses and the cold.

Suddenly I was conscious of the most compelling
sensation I ever felt — / was a thing apart from the
cold, frozen body which seemed a heavy wall sur-
rounding me as though I were wrapped in something
cold and heavy. I realized an independence of it,
an existence without it, and half resented it as a thing
that bound me, that interfered with my freedom. As
I acknowledged this to myself, the / principle or in-
ner strength grew in power until it seemed to reach
out beyond the cold, useless exterior and meet, in a co-
operative sense, a greater strength or power. I could
feel the two meeting, touching, as it were, through the
dead coldness of the physical body which had become
as nothing. Then came the gradual birth of a grand
sensation — a merging of the strength within and that
without, blending, powerful in its cooperation. I
felt that this great new power was mine, mine to use
as I elected, mine to draw upon at will.

A few seconds later I perceived that the physical
body was moving aiid / within it, as a thing apart,
was being lifted by the cooperative strength of this
within and without power. The body was as insen-
sible as a stone with a stone's cold heaviness, but it
moved lightly up, up, slowly, cautiously, until within
a few inches of the ceiling where it stopped. While
it was thus suspended this outer and inner strength
came together more pronouncedly and forcibly, as
if to further define and cement their oneness of power
in independence of the body.

Then the /, the ego, looked with analysis upon its
relationship with its physical environment of which
it had always deemed itself a part, or rather a whole,
and came to the conclusion that the soul and body

ibvGooglc

The Dead Are AUve 1 1 1

are two separate entities, that the soul is independent
of the body and uses it only for the convenience of
functioning while in the earth life. The body is
only moulded clay — the soul or spirit is the real life,
the life everlasting.

When this conviction was full upon me a voice
came crying joyously :

"It is well — it is well," and many spirits joined in
the demonstrations of rejoicing that I had not per-
mitted this "unveiled truth to pass unobserved," and
a great exultation possessed me as the body was
gently lowered on the bed, head on pillow, more per-
fectly adjusted than before the ascent. It is impos-
sible to convey any idea of a condition so out of har-
mony with the automatic or involuntary actions of
physical life but suffice it to say, it was wonderful, this
drawing the line between soul and body, defining it,
feeling that the soul recognizes not only itself but a
cooperative relationship too new and mysterious to
be either fully understood or explained. Veritably
it seemed to recognize itself as a part of God — one
with all power.

Then slowly the cold began giving away to warm
comfortable life, to the accompaniment of a prick-
ling stinging sensation not unlike when one's "foot
goes to sleep."

My body was miserably stiff and uncomfortable as
sensibility returned, but I was so tired that although
the dawn had come, I drifted into the slumber that
consumes weariness, the chilly memory of the night
being obliterated for the time being.

Long after sunrise when I opened my eyes there
were the material footprints — the flower-laden table
sat beside the bed, in my right hand was a crushed
rose of red, in my left one of white and a sprig of
fern was tangled in my hair.

i by Google

Hoiv I Know That

CHAPTER XIII.

VISIONS. LOVE SPIRITUALIZED BY
DEATH.

The nurse looked upon the table and at me with
interrogatory disapproval, which I feigned not to
see, closing my eyes to avoid her questioning when
she picked up the fern and crushed roses from the
floor where I had tossed them. I shrank from the
sound of a human voice — in fact, any sound was al-
most painful to me, I was in such a sensitive, spiritu-
alized condition, feeling more than ever a creature of
another world.

The day was well into the afternoon before this
super-sensitiveness gave way to normality, and I went
into the bath almost free from it

While I bathed a voice came speaking hurriedly,
as though explaining something.

"What are you saying?" I asked, listening more
intently.

Then followed an explanation concerning the con-
struction of an electrical appliance for heating water
and heating rooms generally, to which I replied :

"You must know that I understand little of the
practical application of electricity."

"But why not learn it? The knowledge of its reat
value is in its infancy."

"I may — some day," I replied almost indifferently,
without realizing that my indifference was an offense
to one so deeply in earnest, and felt a tinge of self-
condemnation when a moment later a retreating voice
wafted back with reproach in its tone — "Oh, if people
only understood what they call electricity — the pos-

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 113

sibilities of it." I wished that I had listened more
discriminatingly, as by my indifference, I doubtless
forfeited a truth which otherwise might have been
given me. All afternoon I could not forget it and
kept wondering to what extent things exist in the in-
visible world before they are manifested in this and
such kindred conjectures. Possibly the recognition
of this point — that things do exist in the other world
before they do in this — was the object sought — ^who
knows?

When night came I was glad, as I was weak and
weary almost to unconsciousness, and invited sleep
with something of a longing for it. But it did not
come. Instead I lay wide awake thinking in a list-
less, undefined way, with my consciousness closed to
the invisible world, counting every stroke of the clock
as it chimed out on the soft stillness of the night,
which held my soul en rapport with its mood. When
twelve struck I remember there was a pleasing sen-
sation that when it struck again its sound would be
reouced to the minimum.

Distrait, with eyes wide open, staring into the
semi-darkness, I could sense a change coming over the
room and discern a slowly gathering mist, which be-
came so pronounced that it obscured the walls and
objects in the room. Then it began growing in scope
until it became boundless in expanse, lights and colors
mingling and intermingling in it. Thqp it took on
the look of the sea, as though it were, in fact, water ;
showing the inhabitants of the sea, "those under the
crust of her roof and those above it," exercising a po-
tent, invisible power which will not always remain
beyond the range of our conception. There were

i by Google

1 14 How I Know That

ships* that traveled with even more flcctness and
sureness of purpose "under the crust of her roof"
than those above it. A terrible blackness, as of a
storm, yet not a storm, was upon the sea destroying the
ships that rode upon her waves without injury to
those that plied beneath them. Then there was a calm
sea with ships passing down beneath the waves easily
and unperturbed; others, differently made, passed
serenely, high above the sea in the air, and there was
something ominous about it. Then a change came
over the scene and when the white mist showed again
there was a darkness within it, which I perceived rep-
resented land with its cities, rivers, lakes, trees and
flowers. There were the inhabitants, those on the
earth and those in the air about and above it, in ap-
pearance so like that it was difficult to distinguish one
kind from the other except for the positions main-
tained. Then came soldiers of all nations in full
uniform and war equipment, flags flying, marching,
marching, ever marching toward an illusive goal
which was labeled "PEACE," and like a will-o-the-
wisp it moved ever before them as they grimly pur-
sued it with the attitude of "We will have peace if we
have to fight for it" And while "peace" was yet afar
off, they marched with the sound as though they
waded in mud — but it was not mud, it was blood —
they were wading in it, splashing it over everything.
I turned away to shut out the horrible sight and
sound, and when I looked again — but I will not at-
tempt to describe the desolation of the readjustment.
I turned from it and its long drawn out agony, and
had not the courage to look back for some time. When
I did a change was over everything — the whole world

♦PuBusHEi's Note: The following was written in 1913, before the out-
break of the European war.

ly Google

The Dead Are Alive 115

seemed transformed in every way — a wonderful
event had come and unity was established among the
people who were rejoicing exceedingly. Suddenly
the water mists and the land mists formed themselves
into a gigantic map of the world, and the people, as
one great family, were within it, while on the line
of the circumference the word "PEACE" came out
in large, illuminated letters, which moved like living
things around the map and then formed themselves
across the diameter, embracing the whole world.
Slowly the scene began fading, the map going first,
then the people, then the letters one by one. As my
tired eyes were riveted upon them in the darkness,
over and about was a halo, dim but discernible, which
manifested itself in a scintillating way. Then the
scenes slowly gave way and I was looking at the famil-
iar paper on the wall and the picture just as natural-
ly as though there had been no intrusion of that which
was non-existent. There was a sense of relief when
I looked out of the window and saw the reflection of
the street lamp and listened to the street noises, try-
ing to shake off the "coming shadows" of something
terrible that was nagging my consciousness into ap-
prchensiveness.

This, however, was not the only occasion on which
such phenomena presented themselves but they came
only when I was too weak and ill to care whether
they came or not. I have tried to "call up" something
of the kind at will, but so far have never succeeded.
Of course, they are only visions and may or may not
have a meaning; but strange as it may seem, from the
very beginning of these manifestations I have resented
the vision phase of it Even now it almost irritates me
to write about them. I have in mind an especially
irritating incident — one afternoon flags of the differ-

i by Google

Il6 How I Know That

ent nations waved, going up and coming down, chang-
ing positions, uninterruptedly for hours as plainly as
though they really existed and had some meaning in
their activity. This persisted until I felt as though I
could fight every country that ever had a flag, so
tired of them did I become. Scenery, lakes, seas,
flowers, trees, beauteous creatures, have come and
gone, ever changing, in the meshes of the mist —
veritable dream pictures of loveliness to which I did
not especially object, although I did not encourage
them. Be that as it may, that which I saw I wanted
to have at least a semblance of existence, a preten-
sion anyway.

The next morning after the first "attack of visions,"
I was thoroughly displeased with myself and felt
more strongly than ever the advisability of tearing
myself away from the domination of this tyrannical
mystery which had held me for days, if not entirely
against my will, certainly against my judgment. I
was determined to end it all by getting out of bed
that very day. The irony of such a determination
when one is almost too weak to lift one's hands 1 But
something had to be done — just to think I had at one
"sitting" seen what seemed like the world as a giant
battlefield, in all its bloody horrors; then a valley of
desolation, in the tragedy of readjustment, all of
which was finally "swallowed up" by the victory of
unity— of UNIVERSAL PEACE, a kind of para-
dise on earth. It impressed me more than I would
care to admit even now, the temptation to interpret
it was ever recurring to me and it seemed that I
could forsee awful things. Then I would try to per-
suade myself that it had no meaning and when it
persisted I could only take consolation in feeling that

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 1 17

"Time is the old justice that examines all offenders,"
and time would tell.*

While I grappled with the "vision" problem a
telephone message came announcing the arrival in
the city of a little nephew, whom I welcomed as a

Foot Note— (Written January, 1916.)

•While it was during the summer of 1911 that this series of mani-
festations presented itself it was nearly two years before I put it in
manuscript form and not until September, 1913, that I first made an
effort to interest a publisher in it. At that time a world's war seemed
such a remote possibility that publishers were not inclined to risk it —
to say nothing of the subject matter of the book in general. After
several unsuccessful efforts at publication I finally modified the "war
visions," changing them from well defined outlines into the general
form in which they remain. I then continued taxing publishers with
the manuscript until the war materialized when I put it regretfully aside,
as a thing that had failed, and tried to forget it. But now that the
war comes nearer the end, perhaps a pre-vision as to its outcome
might be of interest At any rate I find myself restless under a re-
awakened desire to have it published.

The manifestations were generally heralded by the assemblii^ of
the flags of the nations. That of Germany came first and others would
come floating in, one by one, and all would wave about, intermingling,
until they became a conglomerated mass from which they would
linally emerge stained by a redness as of blood, rendering some almost
indistinguishable — notably that of Austria. The United States always
came in toward the end, emerging with only a few drops of blood,
therefore, I should say that when the United States loses that few
drops of blood the end of the war will not be far off.

The readjustment will last for some time and be almost as de-
moralizing as the war, — a veritable commercial war, with the revolu-
tionary spirit stalking relentlessly in more countries than one.

To the Allies will be the ivictory in the present war. An emperor
will die before the end. There will be many deaths in high places.
Many fires — one great one, as of a city burning. Austria's throne
will become vacant — Hungary will become a separate nation. Russia
will gain, comparatively, more than any other nation in every way;
the United States in wealth, as it will practically rehabilitate all
Europe. The French soldier will go down in history as the bravest
and best, the German, the most relentless. Italy is serving her double
purpose splendidly, the religious significance of which is patent only
to those who care to be observant. Germany will not by any means
be annihilated but will be our next important Republic. The fall of
Turkey is inevitable.

And England? iBngland will come in on the "home run"— and will
not be found wanting on land or sea.

In the process of readjustment India and Ireland, after a time, will
have home rule.

There is a reason for all things and the purpose of this war is to
settle for all times national differences and "clean the slate" for the
new dispensation that is being ushered in— a new world is being bom —
but there will be no settling down until all national differences are
adjusted. Then a world's teacher will come amongst us as the new
dispensation is recognited and ushered in, in peace and universal
brotherhood.

i by Google

ii8 How I Know That

needed diversion. He was the child of my younger
brother, whose wife had died a short time before.
While I was very fond of the mother I had never
seen the child, who was then about two years old.
While I appreciated the courtesy I was somewhat
surprised to have the wife's parents bring the child
to visit me as I had never met either of them.

A few minutes later they were ushered in, and in-
troductions over, the grandfather placed the child on
the bed beside me saying :

"And this is your brother's boy."

He was a pretty, intellectual child, with golden
curls and large, expressive brown eyes that looked
questioningly into mine. I put my arms about him
without any intention of kissing him but suddenly I
felt an intense desire to do so and asked him if he
was not going to kiss me. He seemed not quite sure
about it but after a moment's deliberation, bent his
little curly head and touched my mouth with his rose-
bud lips. I released him so his grandfather might
take him if he so desired, fearing he might fall if
not restrained by more force than was mine to exer-
cise. I was astonished to hear quite plainly a voice
cry out:

"Oh, Fanny, hold him again — I want to kiss him."

And there standing beside the bed, in broad day-
light, leaning lovingly over her baby, was its little
mother, just as lifelike as I had ever seen herl

Again I folded the child within my arms and as I
did so I could distinctly feel her arms about mine
and hear her faint love-laden whisper:

"Oh, my baby — my little boy."

Pulling his face down to mine I again kissed it
but this time I felt distinctly a cold obstruction be-
tween the child's lips and mine, as its mother's in-

ly Google

The Dead Are Alive 119

visible arms about mine held it tightly clasped to
my breast. At that moment I felt what a sacred, holy
thing a mother's love is — it passed through my entire
being and held me glorified, uplifted — the purest
passion that ever flooded my soul. Suddenly the pres-
sure lifted, leaving me almost unconscious with weak-
ness. The divine spark of motherhood, with its il-
luminating joy, which had been loaned me for that
brief instant, had gone, possibly never to return. Yet,
I feel that I shall always know what a love of a
mother is like — a mother's love spiritualized by death
— a deathless love.

When released, the child sat looking at me in a
puzzled way — ^who can say, child though he was,
that his mother's love did not touch his conscious-
ness? His grandfather came and stood by the bed-
side, unconsciously falling under the influence of his
dead child who stood so near him, "the substance of
things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen."
Looking at the child and then at me, he said with
a tremor in his voice:

"So like her."

"Yes," I echoed, "so like her."

After removing the child, he looked at me and
said with solicitude:

"How tired and ill you look — I hope the boy has
not overtaxed your strength."

"Not in the least," I assured him, in a mumbling
sort of way, as talking was rather difficult for my
lips had a sense of deadness caused by conveying a
kiss over the span that divides life and death. There-
fore, I closed my eyes to avoid further conversation
until I was equal to it. A gentle voice which I re-
membered so well, came like a caress :

i by Google

I30 How I Know That

"Thank you, dear, it was for this I had them bring
him. I wish I could thank them, too."

"I will do it for you," I promised. "Thank you,"
came the voice so weak that it was scarcely audible,
but she did not go away. Instead, she remained in
the room the greater part of the day near her baby.
I could feel her presence and on several occasions
caught the faintest glimpses of her but she did not
again converse with me nor did she materialize.

Subconsciously these dear "old folks" had acted
in accordance with a request from the world invisible,
by making a journey to take a baby to a sick aunt who
had never seen him, that his dead mother might avail
herself of the occasion to hold her baby in her arms
and kiss him, while the divine current of her love
flowed like a benediction over his little body.

"There is no deathl the stars go down,

To rise on some fairer shore,
And bright in Heaven's jeweled crown

They shine forever more.
And ever near us, though unseen,

The dear, immortal spirits tread,
For all the boundless universe

Is life — there is no dead."

How I wanted to tell this dear old couple that the
child they mourned as dead stood beside them radi-
antly happy, bathing them doubly in her purified love
because of their tender care of her child.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive

CHAPTER XIV.
BACK ACROSS THE DARK SPAN.

The psychology of a love so beautiful remained
with and haunted me far into the night, as I lay
looking listlessly out of the window on the moonlight
— just a waking dreaminess wrapped in careless, con-
tented indifference, which a peaceful joyousness
sometimes imparts.

It was nearing midnight before I drifted into a
sleep from which I was rudely awakened by a loud
knocking, which became ever louder and more pro-
nounced. I sat up quickly, staring inquiringly in
the direction from whence it came. As the noise came
from the direction parallel to my head I was obliged
to turn around as well as to sit up in order to see
what it was. So numerous had been my surprises
during the previous weeks that I had come to regard
myself as being immune from surprise and I now
realized that X had grievously erred in this, as I
stared in surprise and horror at the very last thing
that one would ever expect to sec coming back across
the dark span I

Moving serenely up and down, using a large white
pedestal on which was a life-size statue of Sapho as
a background for its manipulations — was a crutchl
It continued to move up and down methodically, be-
coming plainer and plainer, until the hand manipu-
lating it could be seen distinctly — a hand so char-
acteristic as to be recognizable among thousands —
that of my father. A crutch had'made his life on
earth a "long, sad requiem," and there before me was
the evidence ttiat it had pursued him even into eter-

i by Google

122 How I Know That

nity! My fondness for my father made the contem-
plation of this thing a horror beyond expression.
With heart beating wildly, my eyes riveted on it, in
anguish I cried out:

"Oh, papa is it you — really you?"

"Yes, child, it is I," came the placid answer, as the
crutch disappeared and I perceived him coming
nearer, and asked in an awed whisper :

"Are you crippled in that life, too?"

"Why no — I am a veritable giant of strength and
vigor," he replied, easily, as he took my arm with a
grip that verified his assertion.

"But why did you bring that hateful thing?"

"That you might know it is I."

"I should have known anyway."

"Possibly; but do not believe all that you see and
hear from this side — there are many deceivers."

"Deceivers?" I echoed in alarm.

"Yes; unhappy creatures near the earth, who, to
attract and maintain the attention and consideration
of those with whom they can communicate, make the
most preposterous representations."

"How shocking — but how is one to guard against
them?"

"One soon learns to discriminate; 'like attracts
like,' and by keeping your spirit pure only the high-
est can come into spirit communion with you."

So Intense had been my interest as I listened that I
did not realize that I was still sitting in a cramped
position, with my feet crossed under me. He seemed
pleased and said, "You used to sit that way nearly all
the time when you were a little girl," and helped to
smooth out the pillow as I lay back on it in joyous
readiness for a tete-a-tete with the idol of my child-
hood, coaxing eagerly : •

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 1 23

"Now, papa, dear, tell me everything — how you
came and all about it."

"Coming was easy enough, but to get you to hear
and understand was quite a different matter. Often
I have come to you, called and caressed you, but
when you heeded me not I would go away sorrowing
deeply that my little girl refused to turn her face to
the light."

"I am glad I can see you now — glad to know you
still live and love me."

"There is no death — it is all a beautiful birth as
the people of earth will soon recognize."

"Tell me all about it," I said with finality, ex-
pecting to have the whole story in a nutshell — all
the mysteries solved at once.

"The earth life well lived is one of the most im-
portant phases of existence and means much in those
that are yet to come."

"Are there more than one?" I asked in astonish-
ment.

"It is well that one is not all."

"How many are there?"

"I have yet to learn. You know I came here bound
by the traditional beliefs and have been about as
busy unlearning as I have learning."

"Are things so different?"

"In so far as everlasting punishment and a local-
ized Hell and Heaven are concerned, yes; but we
must not discuss such things, let's talk about children,
as I have not long to remain."

"Very well, papa," I assented, trying to suppress
my disappointment that he had so abruptly changed
the subject most interesting to me. After speaking
with loving solicitude of each of his children, calling
them by name, he turned away saying:

ibvGooglc

124 Ho'w I Know That

"I must go now."

"No — not so soon," I protested. "There are many
things I want you to explain to me."

"Create today thy life for tomorrow. I must go,
as there are requirements in this existence just as
there are in the earth life."

When I realized that he was really going I called
after him, "Oh, Papa, tell me — am I going to die?"

"There is much you will be given to know — be pa-
tient, very patient — goodbye."

"But, Papa, you did not tell me — am I going to
die?" I called after him in the darkness but no an-
swering voice came and I knew for a certainty he had
gone. I sat up in bed again and looked around where
I had seen the crutch, half afraid that I woul<f see it
again but there was nothing that even suggested the
supernatural except a chillness which caused me to
shiver slightly and put the sheet up over me as I lay
down again.

On the following evening when my fiance came I
wanted so much to tell him of the scene with the baby
the day before and the crutch of the previous night
but when I realized that I must not, my heart ached
at the "rift in the lute" this secretiveness on my part
was causing in the perfect harmony of our love —
just a little minor discord, but it was ever there.
While frankness may be dangerous waters for the
sailing of ships of State, the same can be said of the
lack of it in the paddling of Cupid's canoe.

After he had read aloud to me for some time I felt
less the oppression of my enforced lack of candor and
enjoyed listening to a story of life instead of death,
such as I had listened to for many weeks.

After the story was concluded, on my natural im-

.h, Google

The Dead Are Alive 125

pulse of frankness, I did a very foolish thing — I at-
tempted to tell him about the crutch that I had seen
manipulating beside the white pedestal. The nurse
looked shocked and he looked at me in undisguised
disapproval and disappointment, saying:

"And I was congratulating myself that you were
better 1"

"I am all right, sir," I assured him but this was
too much for his toleration. He left the house thor-
oughly discouraged and no doubt disgusted, while I
lay dampening the pillow with the tears I could not
restrain, listening to his footsteps as he went down the
stairs. I next heard the gate latch click and knew he
was gone.

The next day, to my utter bereavement, every
statue, pedestal and almost every movable thing was
taken out of the room, leaving it not only without a
background for ghostly manipulations but so deso-
late in appearance that these words kept running
ceaselessly through my brain :

"Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds
sang."

i by Google

Hoiv I Know That

CHAPTER XV.
WRITING.

When the nurse told me the doctor considered the
room "more sanitary when less crowded," I made
no comment but simply turned my head to the foot
of the bed so my eyes would not continually rest upon
the devastation of what I considered the most beau-
tiful room in the world at a time when I needed its
beauty most — another dagger tipped with the poison
of mistaken kindness I

As the afternoon wore on I became more and more
restless and dissatisfied and had to battle with myself
to keep from being really angry at such presumption
but my "promise of faithfulness" embraced self-con-
trol and I strove to be equal to the test put upon it.
Nor was it as easy as it sounds. I resolutely shut out
the voices of the invisibles and looked out with my
thoughts on the gathering storm. The black clouds,
the lightning flashes and the thunder made me wish
the wind would blow and the rain would come down
in torrents to harmonize with my mood, to say noth-
ing of dispelling the sultriness of the atmosphere.
After some time of this depression I felt that I must
do something — anything — to counteract it. With
this end in view I asked the nurse to bring me writing
materials and when she did so and made me com-
fortable by extra pillows I began writing letters.

Before proceeding very far I perceived that my
pencil did not respond to my mental direction with
the usual swiftness and accuracy but I charged it to
my weakness and tried to continue. The pencil was

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive r 27

lifted from the paper in the middle of a word and al-
most ren^oved from my hand. I began again but it
was pulled at, touched, shaken and lifted with such
persistence that at last I gave up writing as the let-
ters were not of such importance that they had to be
executed under such stress. Thus arguing I lay back
disgusted, with the pencil relaxed between my
fingers. No sooner had I done so than a numbness, as
of something coming down into my arm and per-
meating it, was distinctly felt, rendering the arm
and hand utterly useless. This I regarded very ser-
iously, as fear of paralysis was upon me; but thor-
oughly alarmed as X was there was something that
pressed against removing the hand from the position
in which it was, and I could only regard it appre-
hensively. Then I saw the hand vibrating and the
pencil, independent of my direction, assume a writ-
ing position and, propelled by a force and guided by
an intelligence outside of my own, began writing,
yes, writing with my own hand yet I did not
know what it was until I read it. How wonderful
it seemed and "still the wonder grew" when I dis-
covered some of the writing was in a language I did
not understand!

Then the rain came down torrentially, lightning
flashed, thunder rolled and the wind blew wildly, but
heeding them not I wrote on and on, enchanted by
this weird and marvelous manifestation. Held in
bondage by an intelligence that was dominating its
every movement independently, my hand gave some
wonderful demonstrations of what could be accom-
plished in this way. There were communications
from friends and loved ones, predictions (a world's
war amongst them) thoughts, poems, etcetera.

i by Google

128 How I Know That

I here reproduce one of the poems which was
given that afternoon wherein the soul and body are
treated as two separate entities, defining their rela-
tionship, as it were.

THE CASTLE ME

I dwell in the Castle Me

Where I would reign alone

But Good and Evil are here
Beside me on the throne.

I gaze out of its windows
See it lashed by life's sea
■ While I grow ever stronger
Within the Castle Me.

But some day I'll go away

And leave it here below
For I'll no longer need it

In the realms where I go.

Earth will take it back again
And dust with dust remould
• Just as tho' it had never

Harbored a human soul.

While I go on my journey

Unto regions of light
Where there'll be no sorrowing

And there will come no night.

Now re-read it as I did and the fullness of its
meaning will come upon you bringing a sense of

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 129

soul — independence of the body — a recognition of
the ego, as a thing apart from the body and yet man-
ifesting within it.

This wonderful ability to write — to pass my hand
into the realm of the Invisible and bring back oft-
times strange and startling records, still remains with
mc but I rarely exercise it — what is the use? Even
as I write this book I constantly combat efforts of in-
visible intelligences to control my pen and incorpo-
rate their views in the writing thereof, but, as it is
a record of my personal experiences, I am recording
it incident by incident just as it came to me, regard-
less of how it may sound or seem; therefore, I repel
such interferences.

Using the pencil was not the only phase of this in-
dependent writing that manifested itself through mc.
On numerous occasions invisible hands have taken
mine and with my index finger written on walls,
doors, portieres, bed or anything convenient — even
on my lap. Where there was no visible result each
word was spelled out slowly, letter by letter, as my
mind accepted and retained it. If for any reason a
letter was obscure or I failed to grasp it, it was im-
mediately rewritten until correctly conveyed.

At first all writings were accomplished by pro-
nounced vibrations of the hand but gradually this
ceased and the hand appeared practically normal.

While admitting this form of writing to be one of
the most wonderful phases of my psychological ex-
periences, I strongly advise against indulging in it
indiscriminately or in the spirit of levity. When the
hand is passed into the Beyond it is generally taken
by any presence that happens to be near and if levity
attracts irresponsible beings, in accordance with

i by Google

130 How I Know That

the law of "like attracts like" the result is as often
misleading as otherwise. There are entities in the
world of shadows who do not hesitate to give the
most astounding untruths just as there are on earth.
This I have proved to my own satisfaction and hence
this is a subject that should be approached only when
one is mentally and spiritually en rapport with the
highest influences — bathed in purity of purpose and
strength of soul more powerful than adverse influ-
ences can possibly be always remembering where
Good rules evil is powerless. Unless we have some
aflinity for evil it cannot touch us, therefore, when
any experiment is undertaken with our thoughts "in
the right key" we lessen the chances of forming un-
desirable invisible acquaintances which are really
of more importance than visibles. Our thoughts
should he carefully trained in the right channel he-
fore attempting any experiments at all, and then only
leith careful discrimination.

. "You can never tell what your thoughtt will do
In bringing you hate or love.
For thoughts are things and their airy wings
Are swifter than carrier dove.

They follow the law of the universe

Each thing must create its kind,
And they speed o'er the track to bring you back

Whatever went out from your mind."

That "thoughts are things" cannot be overlooked
in the study of psychology — one might say it is the
keynote — it is by thought we converse with the soul
world — our thoughts in the spirit world are very

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive 131

much what our personal appearance is in the earth
life, only more so. Our invisible associates are very
much what our inner thoughts are as that is what
attracts them.

All that stormy afternoon was consumed in watch-
ing my benumbed hand and arm serving accurately
and swiftly an intelligence other than mine and look-
ing at the result with as much surprise and wonder-
ment as if executed by the hand of another.

When the sun was set and the evening shadows
came into the room the nurse suggested that I must
be very tired and insisted on putting the writing ma-
terial away and sending the letters to be mailed, to
which I replied "they arc unfinished" and carefully
folded what I had written and put it in an envelope,
placed it in the box and handed it to her to put on
my desk, which she did without comment.

Then the night came on, dark with continuous rain
and a distinct coolness in the atmosphere but there
was no sleep as it was Tuesday night and I could not
tear myself away from the watching and waiting it
fastened upon me. How weary I felt of waiting,
weary of life, even weary of the promise of death.
All night long my consciousness was open to the
silence — I called into it but no answering voice came
— the only form of communication was a mingling
mass of letters which arranged and rearranged them-
selves in a meaningless way before my eyes, continu-
ously vibrating, as I tried and tried to decipher them.
Hands would take mine and write words or letters
indiscriminately on the bed covers with my first
finger. This continued until in very desperation I
closed my eyes, feeling that I would despise writing
unto the end of time; would never try to decipher

i by Google

132 How I Know That

any more such communications ; never again permit
my hand to be used for such purposes. This resentful
and rebellious mood lasted until day had almost come
and as I felt it giving way opened my eyes and was
almost shocked to see those vibrating, tantalizing let-
ters in the identical position I had last seen them. I
viewed them almost indifferently now, feeling that it
did not matter whether they were there or not, then
in a gentle, methodical way, the vibrating letters
formed themselves into this sentence: "This is thy
lesson in patience — be thou patient even unto the
end." And thus another Tuesday night took its place
in the file of yesterdays.

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive

CHAPTER XVI.

SOUL AND BODY IN PROCESS OF
SEPARATION.

"There is a natural body and there is a spiritual body." — St,
Paul.

The next day found me so weak and weary that I
mentally protested against the least exertion, even
the bath, my one diversion, but the echo that came
back, "I will be faithful," compelled my compliance
according to my promise. I protested in a subcon-
scious way, just as I did about breathing or any other
exertion, voluntary or involuntary. I was tired of
it all — ^ihe endless tragedy of itl

As I went into the bath room I stopped and leaned
against the door facing to rest and almost succumbed
to the temptation to turn back to the bed, regardless
of the invisible world and its requirements. Again
1 seemed to hear myself saying: "I will be faithful,"
which spurred me on until I stood beside the tub.
With one foot poised in mid air I stood transfixed,
looking with wide, amazed eyes at myself stretched
full length in the tub !

My foot slowly descended to the floor as a sensa-
tion of awe came upon me. There was no mistaking
it — there I lay — there I stood — one / gazing at the
other. Common courtesy not to mention physical
impossibilities forbade me joining my "other self"
in the bath ; beside which I did not care to annihilate
that "other self" without giving it an opportunity
of explaining why I had waited so late in life to be-
come twins!

i by Google

134 ■^0'"' I Know That

While watching it eagerly it began evidencing
life, vibrating, splashing about as tho' in reality tak-
ing a bath — the thing was awesome and I trembled
somewhat as I looked at it — it was certainly me and
there I stood looking at it, watching it manifest life,
and acting as I would act. Then almost suddenly
it became dual as it struggled in the water — distinct-
ly I could see another body, shadowy but defined, an
exact duplicate, confined within the physical body,
the duplicate as distinctly discernible as the original
This body interpenetrated the physical, the relation
of the physical body to it being very much that of a
glove covering the hand, the inner body directing
the movements of the outer body as the hand directs
the glove. At first the duplicate or shadow body
used its potency in regulating the movements of the
physical body, then it seemed to withdraw within it-
self, letting go of the physical body, as it were, which
became heavily still. Independently of the outer the
inner body began slightly vibrating, more and more
pronouncedly and with ever increasing power.

In the exercise of its movements, now unhampered
by the physical, it began pulling up the feet with that
peculiar vibratory motion so characteristic of these
manifestations and continued pulling until the
"shadow" feet came up to about midway between
the knees and ankles only to fall back and vibrate up
again and again. Then the "shadow" hands began
jerking and pulling themselves up loosening them, as
it were, from the physical hands that lay still and mo-
tionless. They did not succeed so well as the feet;
with the greatest apparent effort they could come
no higher than just about the wrists. Tlien the
"shadow" hands and feet began working at the same

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive 135

time and the entire inner body moved in apparent
readjustment — the hands and feet repeatedly pulling
up to what seemed their limit only to fall back and
start all over again while the physical body lay white
and still in the water.

It is impossible to conceive of how fascinating and
awe-inspiring this phenomenon was — it held me ob-
livious to all things else. It was evident that the
spirit or soul body was trying to force itself out of the
physical — trying to gain strength by drawing up the
hands and feet to propel it in an upward direction
beyond the physical confines. The "shadow" head
was pressing hard against the cranium but never one
time did it go for even the faintest fraction beyond.
The "shadow" eyes pulled away from their phjrsical
windows, the nose and ears drew away, but the mouth
remained firm. I realized that I was being shown
the modus operandi of the separation of the soul
from the body and truly it was a grcwsomely won-
derful thing to look upon.

So engrossed was I in its contemplation that I took
no note of time and just when it promised a revela-
tion of the exit, a voice so startled me I nearly
jumped into the tub amid the strange, weird dissec-
tion,

"You have been in here quite long enough," and
punctuating her words with her presence the nurse
stood looking at me, her face mirroring her surprise
and annoyance to find I had not even been in the
water. Suppressing her annoyance she said, with
forced solicitude:

"How stupid of me to permit you to remain so
long — come into bed at once."

So saying she took my cold hand and half leaning

i by Google

136 How I Know That

on her I went into bed with a heart heavy with dis-
appointment, feeling that but for ill-timed interrup-
tion, my eyes would have feasted upon the mystery
of mysteries — the goodbye scene between the soul
and its earth abode.

With half closed eyes I listened without hearing
her lecture on "Taking the proper care of oneself."
Then I heard her go into the bath room and turn out
the water, wondering vaguely if the apparition was
still there, yet realizing that even if it were the
power to see it was not hers. Strange that one person
can see such things and another cannotl Yet such is
a truth that can be demonstrated.

When she came in she brought some wine and
tried to cheer me but my disappointment was too
poignant to be dissipated by mere wine and words,
especially as her promises were for physical better-
ment of which I never expected to avail myself, for
death seemed in a measure to have already fore-
closed its mortgage on me.

What I had seen haunted me ; it seemed my mind
had photographed it; wherever I looked I seemed
to see that weird, struggling spirit in its desperate
efforts to escape from the prison house of flesh in
which it was incarcerated. Shutting my eyes did not
shut it out but rather intensified it. In fancy I al-
most felt a "shadow" body struggling within me. I
knew it must be there but was it really struggling to
escape? I was sure it was, but why did it struggle
when I was so willing that it should escape?

I think there must have been something of exul-
tation in the knowledge that now I could answer that
oft-repeated question — "Where is the soul?" to
which everybody seems to have some kind of answer,

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 137

theory or conjecture, but which inevitably reverts to
the agnostic admission, "I do not know." And now
1 did know and the knowledge was wonderfully up-
lifting spiritually.

This relationship of soul and body can be likened
unto the interpenetration of water poured on sajid.
The water sinks into the earth, fertilizes, gives it
life and the ability to reproduce and yet it is not
visible to the physical eye any more than is the soul
in the human earth. Water is the soul of mother
earth — spirit the soul of human earth. Water goes
back from whence it came — so does the spirit— each
in its own way by its own process.

When night and the magic of its stillness was upon
everything it all came back and the "shadow" body
within was calling to other "shadows" that had been
released from their prisons of flesh and they came re-
newing the promise of my release and we ail rejoiced
together. My body had become a thing apart and I
no longer included it in thought of myself — it was
now a useless thing from which I would soon escape.

Then in a sense of humility, I wondered why this
wonderful experience, this knowledge, had been
given to me instead of one more spiritually worthy,
to one of the many who have spent their lives in an
effort to solve this great problem. The more I
thought of it the more the responsibility of the
knowledge weighed upon me. I could not feel that
I was entitled to it and my mood grew retrospective.

As I meditated out of the files of memory came a
little song, which as a child, I sang in Sunday School
long ago, entitled "PASS IT ON" and insinuated
itself into the thread of my thoughts as tho' it be-
longed there, and in the long silent watches of the

i by Google

138 How I Know That

night every word came back — tramping through the
halls of consciousness as tho' it were a thing of today
instead of belonging to the yesterdays of childhood.
It made me feel that I wanted to tell the whole world
what I knew and what I had seen; and in reality
"(jass it on" even unto the ends of the world and I
felt the thrill of such a possibility. And as the dream
pages turned backward — I was a child again — time
had given back its toll. I could hear the old organ
pealing forth its melody in the little church nestling
among the cool, green trees, saw the flowers and half
dilapidated grounds, the solemn gravestones (senti-
nels of the dead) in the distance as I looked out of
the window. In the Sunday School choir with me
were the same little girls with their fluffy skirts and
curly hair — the same little boys with hair wet and
plastered down, fumbling nervously with catechisms,
stealing glances at the lessons which they had not
looked at until they came ; there were the same teach-
ers with benign and kindly faces; the same organist
and we were standing about her as she played, all
singing :

"Have you had a kindness shown?

Pass it on, Pass it on,
'Twas not given for you alone

Pass it on, Pass it on,
Let it travel down the years

Let it wipe another's tears
Till in Heaven the deed appears,

Pass it on. Pass it on."

And thus with the present and past intermingling,
half dreaming, half-waking, "Sleep, nature's soft

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 139

nurse" touched me with her tender unconsciousness
and I did not wake until the day had come.

That day when I went to the bath I looked eager-
ly, hoping that I might again see that which had so
engrossed my thoughts since its appearance the day
before. But it was ever so, when I expected or
looked for such things they came not but waited un-
til I was entirely "off guard" to confront me with the
most unexpected and inconceivable phenomena.
With disappointment I resigned mjrself to the most
uneventful bath of the series. I could not even feel
a presence near, listened but no voice came, no hands
touched me — the invisible world seemed suddenly
depopulated. A chilly depression made the bath as
short as it was uneventful and I returned to bed with
a loneliness so intense it was painful. This sudden
withdrawal of the supermundane from the mundane
life produces the most oppressive loneliness imagin-
able. However, loneliness of any kind was a new
sensation to me, for my invariable answer when any
one asks me if I am ever lonely, is "Yes, sometimes —
for my own company — to be alone with myself." This
strikes a responsive chord in some hearts, but most
admit their dependence for companionship on their
fellow creatures.

And now I was lonely, really bitterly lonely, my
soul was crying out for companionship — how had I
offended my friends of the world invisible that they
had withdrawn so entirely? "Come bick to me" I
whispered pleadingly "come back, I am so lonely
without you" but they heeded me not, and with a
heavy heart, I turned my eyes to the nurse, a mun-
dane creature, for companionship and consolation.

i by Google

140 How I Know That

Noting the unhappiness in my face she was quick to
respond and came to me, asking kindly:

"What is it, dear?"

"Oh, nothing — nothing. I am so tired — tired of
being sick" I made answer as a downpour of tears
relieved the tenseness. She answered with conven-
tional words of consolation :

"There, there, don't cry — ^you will be well in a few
days, you arc so much better already."

I did not reply, knowing well enough that I was
neither better nor worse, but in the same negative
condition that I had been for days, being held there
by a force desiring it and having the ability to en-
force it. I felt this force and recognized it yet was
ccHnpelled to take pills and medicines until the sight
and .effect of them, almost made me really ill, for the
nurse having a professional sense of duty never let
a period which demanded these inflictions pass with-
out exercising her prerogative. I submitted as uncom-
plainingly as possible. But this day my enforced
loneliness made me feel more kindly toward her
than I had done before and I entered into a conver-
sation with her that helped fill an otherwise lonely
afternoon, and found her more intellectual than I
had hoped for.

But it was when the shadow of earth called night
came down, shutting out the light of day, that the
floodtide of loneliness penetrated my being. It was
then I called again and again "come;" it was then
my eyes searched .eagerly for a sign; then that I
listened anxiously for even a whisper or a tapping;
listened until hope turned ashes and weariness sifted
its torturing despair into my soul. I felt like holding
up my hands in the darkness that pressed upon me

DigitzedtiyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive 141

and calling aloud to those hidden behind it to come
to me again, to speak to me, but the shadows flicker-
ing past only mocked me, assuming shapes roused
my hopes until the dawn came dispelling them en-
tirely.

Nor did the day bring their return — noon gave
way to afternoon with their desertion still preying
upon me. I wondered how I had offended — whether
1 had failed in my promised "faithfulness." Out of
the stillness these words came back to haunt me, "O
weaver of thy freedom, be faithful" — I seemed to
hear them again and felt as though I had not been as
faithful as I might have been, nor did I try to justi-
fy myself. I was only sorry with a desire to make
amends, yet feeling that it was too late. A vague
sense of the end was upon me, and with an aching
heart I waited.

The afternoon was well spent, when the nurse not-
ing that my usual bathing hour had passed asked :

"Aren't you going to bathe today?"

"Yes, but don't turn on the water — I'll just take a
shower."

And again the temptation not to bathe assailed me
as I felt really unequal to it in every way. Then I
reasoned that absence of him to whom I had made
the promise did not absolve me from it and I felt
ashamed for almost yielding to the temptation, feel-
ing that if I could not keep my promises when left
alone my faithfulness was indeed a cheap com-
modity. Then I resolved to be truly faithful in
every promise regardless of everything. With this
determination full upon me I went into the bath and
turned on the water, which came with a hard, cold
impact that was almost painful. Wondering at this

ly Google

142 How I Know That

I reduced the supply but it came so insufficiently,
that Z turned it on full again but it spurted upon me
with such chilling impact, that I decided, shivering,
to conclude the bath, when I noted the usual appear-
ance of the water. It was clear and sparkling, fall-
ing in ice-like formations over my body, piling up in
some places, and melting as it came in contact with
my warm skin. I looked at it and examined it analy-
tically and if it wasn't ice I never saw any I While
realizing how preposterous this sounds, I took it in
my hand and held it between my fingers. It melted
and I shivered with the coldness of it. I held the
hose high over my head permitting these crystalline
formations to fall over my hair and roll on my body
in their cold transparent beauty while I wondered at
it.

Suddenly the whole room seemed turned into a
veritable crystal palace, catching and radiating all
colors, soft, glistening white predominating, and still
the formations fell upon me, some melting in my
hair, others rolling about in icy indiscrimination —
just a page from the book of fairy dreamsl

Then a change came over everything — the room
seemed to merge into something else; the hose had
fallen from my hand, beings of the invisible, cloud-
robed and frostily- white floated about, while the
"choir invisible" added its harmony. Rainbows and
crystals seemed intermingling in the radiant white-
ness and I felt as one with the pure creatures that
hovered about, as the "shadow" body within me, in
independence of the physical environment felt
stronger and more defined as a separate entity in its
association with what it recognized as creatures of
its kind — free from the restraint of the material.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 143

Above all was a sense of something too great to be
measured, something which to describe would be to
degrade. Infinitude interpenetrated all, including
me.

So far had I drifted out beyond the portals of the
mundane that the sound of the nurse's voice was like
an explosion of dynamite as she said decisively:

"Time is up. You are not strong enough to stay
in long today."

And thus from "above the clouds" wrapped with-
in the meshes of its misty veil, I fell suddenly into
a cold bath tub, with the nurse bending over me with
anxiety in her face.

i by Google

Hoiv I Know That

CHAPTER XVII.
GETHSEMANL

"The broad minded see the truth in different religions; the
narrow minded see only the dOferentes."

After my nurse assisted me into bed she remarked
with emphasis :

"You are not able to take these baths and I shall
insist that the doctor have them discontinued."

When I was about to remonstrate a voice whisper-
ed:

"No more are necessary," and accordingly I re-
sponded submissively :

"I shall take no more."

Evidently pleased at what she considered an easy
victory, the nurse added :

"You may take them when you are better, but not
while you are so weak."

She chafed my cold hands between her warm
palms, which burned almost painfully. Then pull-
ing the light covers more snugly about me, she gave
me a glass of port, which I drank to the last drop
enjoying its life-giving glow.

"Try to rest now," she said kindly as she went to
the South window and picked up a magazine, leav-
ing me to the joyous realization that if my soul had
been stained in the past on its terrestial journey
my naturalization with the ethereal forces had beau-
tifully demonstrated that it was no longer so, and had
left no doubt as to my oneness with them.

"And now," I told myself, "I am ready for the
transition." In profound humility I thanked what-

ly Google

The Dead Are Alive 145

ever it was that had tortured me with waiting and
preparations, at which I had so often rebelled, and
felt completely compensated by this one manifesta-
tion. Even now I look back on that bath as too
sacred to describe in a book, the very nature of which
is bound to excite differences of opinion, even in the
sympathetic, to say nothing of the criticisms of those
who cannot understand and the jestings of those who
will not. The last class Schopenhauer must have
had in mind when he §aid: "Naked truth is out of
place before the eyes of the profane vulgar; it can
only make its appearance thickly veiled."

It is easier for me to understand those who refuse
to believe anything than those who believe every-
thing blindly. To me, knowledge and faith are
synon^nous. I believe in knowing for oneself. All
else is a matter of belief. While / know that what
I am recording in these pages is true, I do not expect
my readers to accept my mere statement. I do hope,
however, that this book will impel its readers to in-
vestigate for themselves individually. The soul's
relation to the invisible world is not a matter of
belief; it is a matter of knowledge — one either knows
or does not know. A wider or more fascinating field
of research does not exist but each person must search
for himself. The gate is open to all— we can enter
or not just as we will.

"He who thinks with the many must often think
wrong," so Shakespeare tells us and so history proves.
There was a time when "the many" believed the
world had four corners and the sun moved instead
of the earth but this did not make the earth square
nor the sun move. When Columbus announced his
intention of going in search of another world which

i by Google

146 How I Know That

he believed beyond the seas, only a few shared his
belief, while "the many" not only doubted and
scoffed but denounced him as mad. Fortunately, the
existence of the Western Hemisphere did not depend
on whether "the many" believed in it or not. There
is always a Columbus who insists on seeing for him-
self and thereby is convinced, thus helping the world
in its evolution towards perfection. Just as surely as
there is a world beyond the sea of water there is one
beyond the sea of Silence. The space world, like the
sea, has its inhabitants. Looking casually you
cannot discover this but when once upon it, the evi-
dence of life appears. The sea has laws that must
be complied with before we can become intimate
with its creatures. Calling a fish will not bring him,
but a hook and line will. There is no doubt that
at one time people, except those few living where the
tides brought them in, did not know what the in-
habitants of the sea were like. Most people do not
know what the inhabitants of Space are like except
the few whose consciousness is touched by the tides
of other shores and there are more of these than is
generally supposed. The standing army of cowards
that Public Opinion makes has within its ranks those
who could tell truths stranger than any fiction ever
written but dare not for fear of what people might
think or say.

Vanity intrudes itself even at death. As I lay with
eyes closed dreaming of the long delayed transition,
which I felt was near realization, my mind wandered
to a pearl-bedecked dress, pure and white, and be-
fore my mind's eyes there was materialized a beauti-
ful corpse, robed in magnificent garments, which had
been created for a bride, to whom every pearl, every

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 147

thread had represented joyous anticipation of love's
consummation. There was something fascinating
about the picture, even in the contemplated arrange-
ment of the hair, the manicuring of the nails, etc. So
enamored did I become of robing my corpse in my
wedding dress that I wanted to look into a mirror
and see whether this enforced illness had left any
traces on my face, as apprehensively I wondered
whether the long agonizing weeks had written their
story in lines on my face. Although I realized this
was foolish, it was irresistible, and I felt compelled
to see how I looked. I knew that I should be think-
ing of higher things and though I resisted the im-
pulse as long as I could I was finally obliged to call
the nurse and ask:

"Will you please bring me a mirror? — I want to
see how I look."

"Very well," she assented smiling, as she turned
away to comply with my request, and in a moment
returned, handing me the glass, saying:

"Your illness has certainly dealt gently with your
looks." I accepted her remark only as an encourage-
ment and when she resumed her seat by the window
I held the mirror in my hand hesitating to look — be-
cause I thought it possible that my appearance had
changed. After pausing a little I looked. Uncer-
tainty deepened into profound interest as I stared
into the mirror. Not a line of my face nor the sem-
blance of it did I see. Instead of the reflection of my
face there was something alarmingly different — a
garden in which the form of a man was kneeling with
eyes upturned in reverential entreaty. It needed
no one to tell me what this represented yet I was re-
luctant to admit it, and tried further to deceive my-

i by Google

148 How / Know That

self by wondering what it meant refusing to accept
what I knew it was and what everyone would recog-
nize. I had, perforce, one might say, within the last
few weeks accepted God, a Supreme Being, Infinite
Intelligence — call it what you will — the Cause of
which the earth life ia the effect, but to accept the
Christ seemed different, and yet there before my eyes
was reflected in minute detail, as the orthodox would
conceive it, the sublime agony in the Garden of
Gethsemane.

It distressed me to behold this scene — I who at the
same time was denying it and looking at it. I did
not want to see it nor admit its existence. I had pro-
gressed so wonderfully near the World Beyond that
encountering this vision on the threshold of it was
like a bar to further progress. It was as if my great-
est sin of omission had waited to halt me at the very
gateway.

"No, not that, it cannot be," I told myself, as with
a sigh of unrest I laid the glass face down on the bed
and tried to convince myself that it was all a delusion,
that my sight had become impaired by constantly see-
ing things that did not exist to the' physical senses.
And then, what had the story of this garden to do
with me anyway? I knew there was an existence be-
yond this into which one passed through the process
we call "death" but this did not compel the accept-
ance of all the theories of all the ages. I argued to
myself that this Christ was only one of many Christs,
recalling the beautiful story of Lord Buddha and the
Saviours of other nations. Along these lines my
thoughts wandered from the vision in the mirror into
the realm of "stock" arguments against the Christ,
which so fortified me mentally that I was quite con-

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 149

fident that the vision had vanished and with this as-
surance I raised the mirror and again looked into it.
I almost dropped it so great Was the shock; it was
nearer, much nearer and wonderfully magnified. I
never looked upon anything that so affected me, es-
pecially so when I perceived that the figure in the
garden was alive! As I looked fixedly at it the hands,
rnoved in supplication, the eyes tremblingly opened
and shut in agony, and a great scintillating light came
down above the head and played about the sorrowful
face, while the lips quivered, the eye-lids stiffened
and the eyes grew fixed in upward supplication.

I realized that this was the most wonderful scene
that I had had the privilege of beholding. The hand
of time had turned back to the Tragedy of Tragedies
and bringing it up through the centuries, had placed
it before my unbelieving eyes and I gazed at it in the
very agony of its reality. Yes, there was the garden
— the Garden of Gethsemane lay across my pathway
— between me and the other world, and to go beyond
it was to pass through it.

And the living scene held me as in a spell. I could
not turn my eyes away ; it held me in an awe that was
painfully fascinating and a voice was whispering
sorrowfully: "Gethsemane — Gethsemane," and soft
voices took up the refrain farther and farther away
until the very faintest echo came back "Gethsemane
— Gethsemane." I then found myself staring in the
mirror at the reflection of my own pale, disturbed
face, to which I did not even notice for I realized
the wonderful vision had gone. I laid the mirror
down reverently, face up, and thought long and earn-
estly. All noises seemed sacriligious. I remember
these words insinuated themselves into my thoughts :

i by Google

150 How I Know That

"The same world still whether it smiles or scorns
That crowned Voltaire with roses, Christ with
thorns."

The vision seemed indelible. It was photographed
on my mentality, and impressed upon my soul. I
sought to fathom the mystery of it, a voice startled
me saying :

"We are all Christs — the same divine spark is in-
corporated within all. He is the Son of God and all
are the children of God."

How shocking this sounded for a moment but the
''still, small voice" within, the divine spark, whis-
pered and I knew it was true.

"He is the perfect man manifested; our Exemplar
and teacher," continued the speaker. "When we
evolve to where we are willing to die that others
might live, we begin to recognize within ourselves
the Christ Consciousness."

There was such a sense of being lifted up above
and beyond the mundane, a sense of no longer be-
longing to the earth life, that when dinner was served
it seemed an unnatural thing, a thing to be resented.
■ How could one administer to the physical when the
banquet halls of the soul were filled with feasts that
money could not buy nor earth produce?

"And I fee! the power uprising

Like the power of an embryo God;

With a glorious wall it surrounds me
And lifts me up from, the sod."

In the stillness of the night these manifestations of
the day came back persistently and re-enacted them-
selves, driving sleep away. I tried to shut them out

i by Google

The Dead Are AHve 1 5 1

by listening attentively to the heavy dashing of the
sea against the rip-rap beyond the sea-wall and en-
deavored to fancy myself watching the spray as it
splashed above the rocks and fell back in the foam
of the sea but above all there was a garden scene that
haunted my senses — the face of the "Man of Sor-
rows" shut out everything else. There was an invis-
ible throng about me. I could hear them talking
amongst themselves as in consultation and hear that
compelling word "Gethsemane." Then magically
a change came over everything and I stood in the
garden where I had seen the Figure of Sorrow kneel-
ing. I realized that standing there was a privilege
that transcends conception. And even as this recog-
nition was upon me I found that I was not alone; in
some strange way this garden semed to embrace the
whole world and the whole world was sorrowing
deeply, and "the voice that was calmer than the si-
lence," said:

"When I come again I will destroy this garden
of sorrows."

Was it Christ telling me that he was coming again?
I was asking myself in perplexity not unmixed with
humility, as I looked pityingly upon the sorrow about
me and then lifted my eyes beyond it to the other
side, and, although the garden was dark but for the
stars, beyond it there was a beacon light,, illuminat-
ing the dark, silent waters beyond, to which the path
through the garden led.

"We may not know it but there lies

Somewhere under the evening skies

A garden we all must see

Gethsemane, Gethsemane

Each his own Gethsemane."

i by Google

152 How I Know That

CHAPTER XVIII.
PASSING INTO THE BEYOND.

At breakfast the next day a voice said :

"Eat nothing ; drink nothing," so the breakfast re-
mained untasted, while I wondered at a command
so strangely at variance with all mundane require-
ments. My obedience caused a veritable storm of
I^rotest from those interested in my physical welfare.

When my fiance came in the evening and remon-
strated, I was strongly tempted to confess all but
when this temptation was strongest, I remembered
a motto hanging over his desk: "The Head That Is
Loaded With Wisdom. Does Not Leak At The
Mouth," and refrained, realizing that my confession
might be productive of more harm than good. I thus
forced him to place his own construction on what ap-
peared to be "obstinate foolishness" on my part.

The finest wines, delicacies and fruits were brought
to me only to be carried away. I really did not want
them, as I was neither hungry nor thirsty. In some
splendidly beautiful way I was protected against the
physical inconvenience and distress that otherwise
would have attended so complete a fast.

It was then I felt most keenly the responsibility of
living in two worlds — each exacting its obligations.
To the requirements of the forces of earth, the invis-
ible would not concede an inch and so between the
two I was unhappily suspended — an intermundane
creature, of neither world yet in both I I bore it all
as patiently as I could, realizing that those interested
in me were drawing as heavily on the Bank of Pa-

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive 153

tience as I was and so tried to impress upon them my
appreciation of the kindness of their intentions. They
were toiling blindly in the darkness but I was moving
toward the beacon light beyond the darkness, in uni-
son with something they could not understand.

On the third day my Beloved came in the evening
with a look of determination on his face, and after
seating hhnself came characteristically straight to
the point

"I have never before asked favor of God, Man or
Devil but I do ask you to be reasonable and to con-
form to the recognized requirements of life."

"Oh, Dear, please let's talk of something else," I
pleaded, but he continued until he had said every
word he intended and concluded by asking point-
edly:

"Will you?"

"No," I replied, feeling that I had affixed my sig-
nature to my death warrant. He drew himself up
with a sorrowful expression on his face and resent-
ment in his eyes, and refrained from further com-
ment on the subject.

I felt like screaming — to relieve the tenseness of
the silence that had settled down upon us. When it
seemed I could not endure it another moment, I said
with pleading in my soul, whether it was in my voice
or not.

"Talk to me, dear. Tell me something that has
happened today."

"Nothing has happened," he answered looking
straight ahead.

"Don't worry about me," I ventured, and added,
"Can't you see that I am better?"

i by Google

154 How I Know That

"Nonsense," he replied almost irritably, taking
further refuge in the silence that so oppressed me.

I tried desperately to escape the influence of the
oppressive silence but it was impossible. Then the
tenseness began to give way — something seemed to
snap — I was sinking — sinking — going out beyond the
depression — beyond the range of argument.

Observing this, he turned to me calling:

"Fanny, Fanny," which I heard without the abil-
ity to respond. He took my cold hand, felt the pulse
and turned to the nurse:

"Wine, please."

When she came with the wine he lifted my head
and tried to pour it into my mouth but obedient to
the force that dominated me, I turned my face away.
The wine stained the white pillow without a drop
going into my mouth.

This was too much. I saw his face almost con-
vulsed with annoyance, which he restrained with a
visible effort, as he set the glass down with precision,
bade me an icicle- fringed good-night and left the
house.

In semi-consciousness I listened to his retreating
footsteps, all the time hoping that he would relent
and come back but when I heard the gate click with
more emphasis than usual I knew my wishing was
in vain. That icy good-night seemed a living thing
which tantalized and chilled me, making me feel
like calling him back to explain to him, regardless
of consequences, that my change of attitude was not
a change of heart. This I wanted to tell him before
the "cold hand" that lingered near touched me with
the silence that would forbid the telling of what I
felt he should know.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 155

"Fanny," interrupted a voice from the invisible, I
whispered "Hush — let me hold my love to my heart
for the last time," and then —

"Why the last time?"

"I will soon be in another world."

"You have been taught that love does not suffer by
the transition from world to world."

"So I have — so I have," I admitted more to myself
than to the voice.

Then I heard the nurse creep quietly into bed as
though she fancied me asleep. Soon I heard her
sigh the sigh of weariness born of her unavailing ef-
forts to tempt me from an allegiance she could not
understand. That she soon slept was evidenced by
a voice that said solemnly:

"She is asleep and cannot wake until she is freed."

I had felt no concern as to whether she slept or not,
until this assertion made me wonder why her sleep-
ing was required. As far as I was concerned the dis-
trcssing happenings of the evening had "murdered
sleep." Also it was Tuesday night, with the hand of
fate pointing toward the end of uncertainty.

"Yes," I mentally admitted, "this is Tuesday night
and there will be no more."

"Yes," echoed a voice, "but other Tuesday nights
have found you equally assured." This had a damp-
ening effect on my assurance but a rousing effect on
my resentment. The thought of another week with-
out the strength to endure it appalled me. Weak
though I was I sat up in bed and looked out the win-
dow on the soft moonlit night, felt the gulf breezes
on my already cold face and shivered. Oh, the
wretchedness of it all I Weak and trembling I sat
huddled up, with my arms about my knees, review-

ibvGooglc

156 Ho-w I Know That

ing the events of the agonizing weeks that had passed,
feeling anew resentment that this strange, strong
strong force held me, making a plaything of my earn-
estness, causing me to wound and annoy those who
loved me and whose love I cherished ; holding me in
the weak subjective condition of semi-illness, causing
me to act as directed with all the earnesmess of my
soul only to be rewarded with deception and disap-
pointment. I could not reconcile the events leading
up to this night with the continuation of mundane
existence. When I thought of the irony of the voice
my very soul cried out in darkness :

"Why can't you be fair with me?"

Out of the stillness came a calm voice in rebuke :

"Can you not yet discern between truth and de-
ception?"

"Forgive me," I whispered, contritely, "you
Imow how weary I am." A flood of joy burst upon
me and again the controlling Power held me passive.

Slowly I turned, adjusted the pillows, arranged
my night clothing comfortably, shook my hair loose,
pushed the covers away so they would not touch me
and lay down, fint in one position, then in another,
in a vain effort to get comfortable.

As a soft hand pressed my forehead and caressed
my hair a voice said tenderly:

"Remember the light beyond the darkness."

"Yes, the beacon light beyond Gethsemane," and
I seemed to see it again nearer and more luminous
than before.

"Peace be thine," came like a benediction, falling
on the soft stillness; all weariness was gone and my
soul was bathing itself in the floodtide of resignation
as I whispered :

ly Google

The Dead Are Alive 1 57

"I am thine, Oh, God, (Jo with mc as thou wilt,"
and closing my eyes in a resignation that was abso-
lute, I realized that I was very cold with a coldness
that held my hands and feet numb within its icy em-
brace. Then chilly waves touched my heart, slowing
its pace. Little lights like miniature stars rose in the
white cloud firmament that had formed in the room;
the tiniest electric flashes, blue tinged, came and
went; waves o,f soft variegated colors, undulating
amid the whiteness, were spreading themselves into
delicate tints ; the air was perceptibly charged with
electricity, the room vibrant with it and I was con-
scious of almost imperceptible shocks which gave an
apprehensive feeling lest a real shock come. Then
what seemed little detached electric lights, illuminat-
ed the whiteness in a most weird and fantastic man-
ner during which time the shocks became quite dis-
tinct. Then into the electrified whiteness came forms
and faces of ethereal, light-emitting, self-illtuninat-
ing beings wrapped in ever-moving silvery vapor,
that tinted everything with silver. White, transparent
hands appeared only to hide themselves again with-
in the mist, where faces, ever changing, were coming
and going. Floating within the silvery mist were the
faces of my parents. Lillian was there, too, with her
happy, smiling face, near enough for me to touch.
There came others I had known in the earth life
smiling in welcome recognition. Dream faces came
and went and voices chanted in harmony with the
"choir invisible" while I felt a conscious at-one-ness
with the manifestations which surrounded me.

Then slowly there came down an unconfincd elec-
tric-laden lightness, which spread over me, touching
me at first cautiously and lightly with an undulating
movement, which caused perceptible shocks. It

i by Google

158 How I Know That

would touch me and draw away when the shocks be-
came too pronounced, only to return and repeat the
process again and again until finally the shocks were
no longer perceptible and I had the sensation of being
a part of them, of being electrified, as it were. Then
with a vibrating, quivering movement it spread itself
over my body, enveloping me entirely, holding me
within itself, as it settled down with a suggestion of
permanency. It was with considerable wonder I
tried to analyze this strange scintillating, vital, living
essence. It was a live thing without any sign of life,
I could see it without seeing it, feel it without feeling
it, as it held me in its magnetized embrace; it gave
the impression of the very essence of power, occupy-
ing unlimited space, inter- penetrating all things in-
definable yet holding all things subject to its law. It
was a kind of white fire but without the faintest sug-
gestion of fire as we know it.

"Can this wonderful — this beautiful thing be
death?"

"It is birth — there is no death," voices chanted
back and in unison with these musical voices, I joined
in "It is birth — there is no death," which lifted my
soul higher and higher in wonderful realization.

I knew it was what we term "death" — the separa-
tion of the soul and body, that which we look upon as
something horrible, a thing to be avoided at all costs
and as long as possible; yet I held it to me as the
most wonderful and beautiful experience that life
had ever given me.

I knew I was "going out" — drifting out over the
borderland, through the Channel of Death unto die
Sea of Life Everlasting, which is supposed to give
up its mysteries only to those who sail upon its waters.

I could feel my blood turning cold — could feel the

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 159

physical body growing heavy and still. There was
not even a suggestion of pain. Then I was conscious
of something moving, something struggling within
and knew it was the "shadow" body struggling for re-
lease — the soul freeing itself from its prison of flesh.

Little lapses of consciousness came and went as the
"Shadow" body adjusted and readjusted ite sails and
helm in conformity with the beacon light ahead, as
the shore it was leaving became dimmer and dimmer.
Suddenly it stopped upon the "still waters" of the
channel and as seabird to its mate, it called to a
loved one who remained on the darkening shore,
"good-bye, my love." While lingering in regret
that the voice could not span the distance between
them, the beloved face seemed to come and mingle
with the dream faces within the silvery mist, just
as though it were one of them instead of a human
being in the earth life. Again the magic word
"good-bye" was whispered and the departing soul
then renewed its struggles against the tides of the
receding shore, with eyes fixed on the beacon light
beyond the dark channel.

Night began "casting shadows before," hiding the
dream faces, obscuring the lights, hushing the music.
Then suddenly came an impact in the right side, de-
fined but painless, causing a perceptible start.

The night was come — it was dark, so dark — I was
alone on the mystic sea of the silence.

"Welcome to Death,
If thou, oh. Death, a being art, draw near

And let me clasp thee; for I hold thee dear.
1 shall extract eternal life from thee;

Thou cans't but snatch this worn out dress from

ibvGooglc

i6o How I Know That

CHAPTER XIX.
OVER THE BORDERLAND.

It was very dark and I was wondering where the
dream faces had gone — where the lights were — in
fact, what had happened.

In my perplexity I began casting vaguely about
but there was nothing to touch. It was all apace,
just empty space — ^and the bed, where was it? It
dawned upon me that I was suspended somewhere,
somehow; and from that base I began trying to make
observations. All about and above me I could see
nothing, but fancy my astonishment if you can, when
looking down, I saw my body resting peacefully on
the bed, representing what is commonly called a
"dead person." I could not move my eyes from it;
it fascinated me as it lay in the cold whiteness, robed
in a gown of lavendar silk, with dainty laces and
ruffles. The neck and arms were bare, as were the
feet; the hair lay loose and disheveled, with little
brown curls on the white forehead. The deep blue
"windows of the soul," the eyes, were at half mast;
the soul being absent the light was gone; the lips,
slightly parted wore just a suggestion of a smile; the
left hand rested lightly on the breast — the engage-
ment ring scintillating as brightly as ever; the right,
which no doubt had been lifted unconsciously at the
shock of impact, had fallen a little apart from the
body and lay, palm upturned. How peaceful it
looked! Thus every detail of the clay image fastened
itself upon my consideration as I viewed it dispas-
sionately, realizing that it was a cast-off garment for

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive ibi

which I had no further use. However, I felt a pro-
tective kindliness toward it; it had been a faithful
servant, executing my every wish and whim and now
that I had passed beyond the range of its services, it
pleased my fancy to robe it in the white, pearl-be-
decked dress, the wearing of which, had meant so
much to me in quite a different way.

A disturbing thought obtruded itself — how differ-
ently he would look upon that which I was contem-
plating with complacencyl This changed the focua
of my interest and I turned my eyes away in the dark-
ness, with the desire heavy upon me to go to him and
let him know that I still lived — that it was "not all
of life to live nor all of death to die;" that the pas-
sage across the dark channel intensifies rather than
abates love. As though responding to my thought I
felt myself moving, or being propelled by a vibra-
tory sensation. It seemed to last but a moment Then
I stopped and, instinctively looking down, I saw
sleeping beneath me the object of my solicitude. As
I looked upon him I saw the shadow body more dis-
tinctly than the physical. Viewed from the other
side of life, the "shadow" body seemed the original
and the physical the duplicate, the soul the real, the
body the unreal. Within and interpenetrating all
was a light, which I had not before perceived as be-
ing a part of the spiritual anatomy. This light pene-
trated from -within, both the shadow and physical
bodies, maintaining through and about the body an
aura or illumination which enveloped it; clothing
it, as it were, in a magnetized illumination. How
wonderful this three-in-one life-manifestation
seemed, especially when we generally recognize only
the one — the physical!

i by Google

i62 How I Know That

Someway, how different he seemedl It was like
a mental vivisection. Yet the difference of view-
point was the only difference, I concluded, as I
moved a little nearer and called low so that I might
not startle him from his slumber.

"Dearest, I am here," I said mentally, in the very
same way that I had conversed with the invisibles
before my transition, but he slept on. His soul which
was not sleeping responded joyously and tried to help
me pass the perception of my presence into his physi-
cal consciousness. He moaned and turned restlessly
in his sleep, as I called to him again and again. Then
in a disturbed way, he moved and called out:

"Fanny, Fanny," as wide awake he sat up in bed,
and said :

"Such dreams — I deamed she was dead." So he
had really heard without recognizing it

Now that he was awake I came yet a little nearer,
confident that he would see and hear me, for I stood
very near him and called softly: "I am here, dear,"
but he only seemed more restless and sighed more
deeply. Then with nervous impatience he turned
on the light, reached for his glasses and a magazine
which were on the stand beside his bed, muttering:

"Such a night — no rest — no sleep." He was think-
ing sorrowfully of the possibility of my death as he
adjusted his glasses, turned one of the pillows on
end to make his head higher, and settled down to
read, despite the fact that I stood near, calling to
him, charging the very atmosphere with sentiment
and eagerness. In a hurt way I drew back and sud-
denly, as though for the first time, the full realization
came upon me, and in an awed way, I whispered to
myself :

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive 163

"I am dead, that is why he cannot hear and see
me," and yet I felt more alive than I had ever felt. I
was the same person in every way. There was some-
thing pitiably painful about being so near one be-
loved, seeing him plainly and hearing him distinctly,
even knowing that he was thinking of me, and yet
having him utterly ignore my presence, and above
all knowing that he would never recognize me again
— never hear my voice no matter how ardently I
called, while I was the same in every way minus the
physical body.

Then I fell to wondering why he could not hear
or see me and perceived that the vibratory environ-
ment in which I was held did not harmonize with
that which encompassed him, yet touched so Inti-
mately that even as I watched, I hoped for a har-
monious blending of these vibratory waves, which
gave the impression of "cross currents" in the sea.
Mine was die vibration of perpetual motion — his
more like a "dead sea" into which these vibratory
currents ebbed and flowed, and it seemed such an
easy matter to move out of the "deadness" into the
"ebb and flow" that I waited and watched a long time
before I realized that he would make no effort to do
so. With this realization full upon me, I looked at
him calmly, without expecting him to sec or to hear,
acknowledging that my mission had failed and wish-
ing that I could explain it all to him. Looking down
into his troubled face, I moved a little nearer and
called to him again without expecting any response:

"Au revoir, my love — until we meet again." Then
with a strange soul sadness I turned away and would
have moved on when I perceived the vibratory force
was holding me, steadily restraining any further

i by Google

164 How I Know That

movement. I began to wonder and to chide myself
for mundane interests beyond which I realized I had
passed. Persistently the force held me, as though in-
viting me to further consideration of earth interests,
but I had none. My material possessions were dis-
posed of as I desired; there was no life-work I was
leaving incomplete; I had no children, no one de-
pending on me; nothing held me to the earth. My
desire had been to go beyond it and now that I had
done so, I was well pleased and wanted to go on to
the joys I felt awaited me beyond the influence of
the earth. Yet the force held me, try as I would to
pass beyond it, until, instead of struggling against
it, I tried to understand it — to wrest from it its reason
for thus detaining me, feeling that there must be some
reason for such marked persistence. Almost instant-
ly the lesson sank into my consciousness and I rea-
lized that the long arm of mundane interests can
reach into the Beyond and hold its victims within the
shadow of earth — pitting its magnetism against the
promise of higher things.

Then I was moving easily in an undulating way,
within the propelling vibration and when I stopped
darkness enveloped me — not a sight nor a sound —
just oppressive heavy darkness, with the sensation of
being alone in eternity weighing heavily upon me, as
I waited in awesome uncertainty.

At first this darkness was appalling, the silence op-
pressive; but I was not long in perceiving that this,
too, had its part to play in the great scheme of things,
as I could feel a wonderful, new strength manifesting
within me. My sight grew, until it overcame the
darkness and I perceived that I was not alone nor
was it dark — that the darkness had been within me

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 165

and could be eliminated only from within. There
were loved ones and many others welcoming me and
rejoicing that I was with them. Meon also was there
at which I rejoiced exceedingly, feeling vaguely thai
where he was there could be no uncertainty. How
carefree and light I felt!

Again came that indescribable sensation of being
held within that electric-laden, living light that had
come upon and enveloped me, just before my transi-
tion. It now gave the impression of a kind of invis-
ible, living elevator. It was still holding me within
itself with all of its electrified, weird, vibratory
power and I wondered that it was no longer a light.
As I wondered, it emitted a faint blue-tinged illum-
ination, giving the impression that it was a light, only
as it elected, or occasion required.

As I quivered within the strangeness of it all,
Meon fastened his dark, luminous eyes upon me, and
asked solemnly:

"And having come, whither goest thou?" Rather
a disturbing question one must admit when I was
trying to adjust myself to the condition of having
come! And now I was to go? I remember feeling
that if he did not know any more about it than I did,
we were in a more deplorable plight than the "Babes
in the Woods." As I deliberated, not altogether
pleased at assuming such a colossal responsibility,
Meon, knowing my thoughts, interrupted:

"Weaver of thy Freedom., Choose." Again that
phrase I — it had followed me even into eternity which
fact I half resented but since I was confronted with
choosing my destiny, in a world of which I knew
nothing, and since hope had painted beautiful and
alluring pictures of a soul's ideal; feeling that the

i by Google

i66 How I Know That

time had come for ideals to become real, I cried out
in exultation:

"To the very highest Heaven."

"That is well," he made answer evenly, as the
electrified vibrations began manifesting and he stood
in a listening attitude which I simulated. In a mo-
ment I distinctly heard the word "Come" and with
a soft, bluish light playing about and enveloping us,
we floated out on the undulating waves of space.

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive 167

CHAPTER XX.
THE RED DARKNESS.

As we floated I noted that the vibratory waves by
which we were propelled were not unlike those
which had propelled my hand to write independent-
ly of my direction and realized that the same power
was, in like manner, propelling my body through
space.

And so we went on until I could see fringing the
darkness red light or rather a red darkness, which
held my attention until we came within it when the
sensation of being among many excluded all other
considerations. I was listening, trying to hear what
they were saying but the vibrations were evidently
not in harmony, so I could not hear distinctly, and
after a long time of vain effort I turned to Meon, and
asked : •

"What place is this?"

"Let Perception be your teacher," he replied curt-

ly-

"Tell me, please," I penisted, with increasing in-
terest.

"Ask no questions — that which is for you to know
will be given without asking."

Thus rebuked I took refuge in silence. Then —
surely I was mistaken — it was only fancy, a horrible
fancy, those agonizing groans and cries 1 But slowly
a terrible knowledge sifted into my consciousness — I
knew what a burdensome thing memory could be
and listening carefully I learned many other thingi
from the environment about me.

i by Google

i68 How I Know That

"Are we near the earth?" I asked, feeling con-
vinced that we were.

"Yes, within its magnetism or spiritual gravita-
tion."

"Why are these beings detained here?"

"They are not detained. Some desire it while
others are not yet strong enough to progress beyond
it."

"Why?"

"Earth's interests hold them."

I would have questioned further but remembered
what Meon had said and restrained myself, feeling
grateful for the information that he had given and
turning again to Perception, as my teacher.

As I listened discriminatingly I heard cries of the
"might have been;" of lives wasted in the making;
of derelicts tossed by the waves of circimistances; of
those who had failed creatures depending on them;
cries of vengeance unexecuted; of vengeance execut-
ed^ of crimes unpardonable and unpardoned; earth
ties of weakness ; a consuming love of earth and the
pleasures thereof; of those who wanted to go back if
only for an hour to right wrongs they had fastened
upon some earth being; of those who were afraid to
go on and wanted to come back. Horrible to listen
to and pitiful to contemplate. There was no bar to
their going on but they did not want to; some did
not know they could. It was the earth that attracted
them — the earth that held them — they felt they could
not give up the earth life. So intimately was the con-
nection between this place and the earth that I could
hear living, loving human beings of earth, because
of these invisible influences, crying out in their
anguish in a hopeless way; could hear them saying,

ibvGooglc

The Dead Are Alive 169

"Earth is HcU — Earth is Hell," as they suffered on
without knowing the cause.

In this dark earth-magnetized region disembodied
spirits lived the mundane existence much as the psy-
chic lives the spiritual while yet in the mundane —
one is progression, the other retrogression. Diseni-
bodied spirits living the mundane life do so at the
expense of human beings in the earth life, while the
mundane person living the spiritual life is obeying
the law of evolution and progression.

It is this condition which requires discrimination
on the part of the investigator.

I heard the voices, felt the touches of these dere-
licts, outcasts and fallen creatures of the Spirit
World and my heart cried out in pity for them as I
wondered if this condition was permanent or by what
process this spiritual blindness was treated. As I
wondered my perception quickened, enlarging my
spiritual vision and I saw descending into the redness
spirits of love and mercy illuminating the way as
they came down, calling, calling as they came and
while all of the submerged had not yet acquired spir-
itual hearing some had and I could hear an occa-
sional answering voice struggling up from the vor-
tex, "I am coming," and I knew that some were pass-
ing beyond it. Also I was given to know what a
powerful influence earth beings could exert in send-
ing them on their journey instead of permitting them
to exercise influence and propensities at their ex-
pense. Then and there I wanted to tell the suffer-
ing, toiling creatures of earth that they were not com-
pelled to submit to such influences; that no matter
how strong the influence of evil is, the God principle
incorporated within every human being is stronger,

i by Google

lyo How I Know That

making us superior to all other forces. If we could
only recognize this within ourselves — this divine es-
sence that makes us one with the source of all life,
power and infinitude we could not only free Our souls
from uncertainty, our bodies from disease, plague,
madness, murders and unhappiness but could help
these souls of darkness to turn toward the light into
the vibratory waves of progression and realize that
"Knowledge is the Wings wherewith
We fly to Heaven."

The one thing I would like to impress upon every
one is there is no soul irretrievably lost, no matter
how many aeons it may remain in darkness (and long
and many are the journeys some make before the
light of truth floods their consciousness).

As I was vibrating about trying to learn all I could
of the place I became aware that souls were passing
on, going beyond this Red Darkness, and I in turn
was filled with a desire to pass beyond it. Then
came a chilling fear — horror of horrors — was this
my destination?

Meon relieved my suspense promptly:

"Did not the Christ descend into this place before
his ascension?"

The word "Hell" intruded itself upon my con-
sciousness although there was nothing suggestive of
the orthodox Hell of fire and brimstone. It was red
but certainly not fire, nor did it have any of the at-
tributes of fire. I could not shake off the conviction
that it was Hell none the less — made up of souls who,
while on earth, had been so entirely dominated by
the flesh, that the separation from that domination,
caused them in their very soul weakness to look back
upon the physical as a thing superior to themselves.

DigitzedbyGOO^^IC

The Dead Are Alive 171

Feeling assured that I was not to remain in this
environment, I went boldly further into the dark-
ness, as if to wrest every secret from it, but I had not
gone far when a voice from the very depths arrested
me and I fell back listening and a voice unlike any
I had yet heard was saying:

"Earth's sins gave this place existence; earth's
magnetism maintains it"

Somehow I did not care to penetrate any further
and grew retrospective. "Descended into Hell,"
kept recurring to me until it became my theme of
thought. I remembered {a memory not altogether
pleasant just then) that that had been one of my
stock and, according to my version, most effective
arguments against the existence of the Christ. I re-
called the number of Gods or Christs that according
to Theological History (and Mythological) had
"descended into Hell and risen again the third day."
There were Krishna, the Hindoo God; Zoroaster,
the Persian God; Osiris, Egyptian God; Baldur,
Scandinavian God; Quetzalcoatle, Mexican God;
as well as the virgin-born saviors Horus, Adonis,
Bacchus, Hercules and Mercury, the Word and
Messenger of God. Many Christs in many different
religions. There was the beautiful story of Lord
Buddha. Meon interrupted gently:

. "To all nations has been given their ideal man —
their teacher, as an example of man's possibilities.
One for the whole world will now suffice but when
these ideals came nations knew less of each other than
they did of God."

What a difference one's viewpoint can make of the
same circumstances! In the Christ argument that

i by Google

172 How I Know That

which had been the ultimate in the negative now oc-
cupied the same position in the afBrmative.

As I pondered over these things I felt myself again
within the vibratory propelling force and heard the
word, "Come."

I regret a sense of duty compels me to incorporate
within a book the undesirable condition just de-
scribed. I would choose, were the choice mine, to
embody only that which is beautiful and uplifting.
Personally, I have always opposed the theory of evil,
believing with Shakespeare, "Nothing is evil but
thinking makes it so," but in our daily lives when we
face facts instead of theories we know that evil (call
it what you will — that which is disagreeable to us)
exists, regardless of what our theories may or may
not be. We admit that evil has no power except what
ive give it; and yet we know that every day we cope
with something that tries to tear us away from our
ideals and standards of life, making us realize that
"The post of honor is a private station," while we go
on living our double lives— the lives we intend to live
and the lives we really live.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive

CHAPTER XXL
THE POWER HOUSE OF EXISTENCE."

There were many questions I would have asked
Meon as we went along but felt instinctively that it
would be useless, as he had advised, "Let perception
be your teacher," therefore I was acting in accord-
ance in so far as I could.

All about me the air was charged with moving be-
ings, going ever pnward, some going swiftly, while
others plodded along as though their burdens had
not been sufficiently lightened for the requirements
of the journey.

While noting all this I discovered that I could see
back of me, to the right or to the left as easily as I
could in front, as though my body saw as well as my
eyes. This strange new faculty of observation grad-
ually increased my scope of vision.

Far out beyond the red-fringed darkness I could
see light, in which rainbows seemed to play, pale as
the dawn, of a gray-weird loveliness, coming and go-
ing as though flirting with the darkness, for to em-
brace it would be to destroy. For delicate beauty it
seemed I had never seen anything more fascinating
or alluring than this kiss of the dawn and the dark-
ness in the Soul world — it was like life kissing death
goodbye.

With this mystical and lovely dawn of another
world upon me, I lost in the witchery of it, we landed
suddenly on what had every appearance of being an
earth. There were houses, flowers, trees; everything

ibvGooglc

174 How I Know That

was so life-like it amazed me. I almost fancied I
had returned to earth. The light was dim as of the
dawn and a cool peaceful gentleness permeated
everything, as the inhabitants moved about in a free,
easy and unrestrained way. They conversed with
me as though they considered me a spirit of the high-
er world, asking me questions of the "life to come,"
as we might of one who comes from the realms be-
yond the earth. They were full of faith, love and
certainty as to an "after life" and seemed spiritually
far in advance of the earth, yet they were perfectly
familiar with earth-life and its conditions, evidently
having lived on earth, nor were they entirely free
from the magnetism of earth interests, as I saw some
going earthward, as though drawn by something of
paramount importance. They would dive, as it
were, quickly and easily, into the Red Darkness and
gradually become one with its redness.

While there seemed no doubt that these people
once inhabited the earth, I saw no one I had ever
known in this life. They had possibly progressed
there out of the darkness and would go back to help
those less fortunate into the higher condition which
they had attained.

As I wondered at it all, the dimness of the soft,
silvery light and other things which I did not under-
stand, a voice came;

"To eyes grown accustomed to the darkness this
light is brilliant."

"It is beautiful — very beautiful" I said, as the ad-
mitted mercy of its softness, added to its loveliness,
held me in mystic dreaminess until the command
"come" called me beyond its environment and I went
wondering — and I am still wondering.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 175

For my own convenience I called this place of ex-
istence the "Dawn World," for so it seemed, as it was
there the light began to neutralize the darkness for
those whose nights had been very long and whose
dreams had been bad.

As we vibrated onward in the ever increasing light
passing silent shadow cities under the radiance of
great orbs, we seemed to be riding on the very air in
company with countless thousands, everything vi-
brating onward in perpetual motion.

So enchanting was this riding on vibratory waves
of space (not entirely unlike those of the sea) in a
gentle undulatory way, that I felt like going on for-
ever, and forever, never tiring, never stopping but
after abandoning myself to the witchery of it for
some time, I perceived the vibrations changing,
merging into a quivering sensation, even more ex-
quisite, and then, as if a part of it, my feet came upon
something different, something firm and reliable, as
one

"Treads upon the void and finds
The rock beneath."

Wonderful was the sight that met my enraptured
gaze I A city of light and of whiteness, boundless in
expanse. I walked in this place very much as I had
on earth, for it seemed I had reached the limit of
my ability to float in space, it seemed that I was
heavier than my surroundings in some way. Every-
where were the most exalted souls I had yet seen.
Some came forward and greeted us, addressing Meon
as though he were one of them, and then, together,
we entered into a building immeasurable in space
and height, the veritable soul of architectural mag-

ib.Googlc

176 How I Know That

nificence. The material had the transparency of
glass of a variegated whiteness, into which colors,
harmonizing in the most delicate way, were coming
and going, ever changing. Electricity seemed to be
the power which held it all together, as the electric
blue would merge into violet and play incessantly, in
a serpentine way, into which almost imperceptible
yellowish streams seemed to flow. It was self -illum-
inated. This is not a very accurate description but
really I am not master of the words that it requires,
so we will just have to let it go at that, with the hope
that some day, when we are more familiar with such
matters, some enterprising person will compile a
dictionary for the convenience of those who will
write describing our future homes.

The floor was even more transparent, with less
color, and vibrated as the beating of a pulse. Tread-
ing upon it sent strange thrills through my entire
body, as though harmonizing the body with its mag-
netism. At first this was not altogether a pleasant
sensation but after getting into harmony with it all
mysteries seemed dissolved ; the very atmosphere ex-
uded knowledge, free and flowing for the mentality
to feed upon as there is only the mentality to sus-
tain; just as in the earth life, air is free and flowing
to give breath to the physical body.

It seemed that all the wisdom of all the ages was
mine as I stood there. Life and death gave up their
mysteries, and I no longer wondered but observed as
one who understood. The machinery of earth exist-
ence was operated and regulated by and through the
power of this plane. It was actually in contact with
the earth. No happening on earth escaped the ob-
servation of the great spirits who seemed to have

i by Google

The Dead Are Alwe 177

nothing else to do but watch over the beings of earth,
to teach them, to lift them up, to protect and help
them up through the darkness; watch over reincar-
nations, create teachers and place them where they
were most needed. With these teachers they were
in direct communication at all times and knew exact-
ly what was going on through some form of wireless
telegraphy or telephony, perhaps, but they commun-
icated as though there were no distance. They
seemed to draw the highly evolved souls of earth up
to them mentally, and these cooperated consciously,
responding unerringly. It was marvelous to watch
the process or rather processes, as there were many
phases of this supervision. They were coming and
going all the time. I saw many go out and disappear
into the depths, all rejoicing in their work, the up-
lifting of humanity. The souls were countless, the
space immeasurable, yet there was no confusion — it
was system idealized, each recognizing his mission
and doing it. Truly it was the Christ principle man-
ifested, for they were laboring for others, not them-
selves.

"For my own convenience I designated this place,
"The Power House of Existence" and even now I
cannot think of anything more appropriate, so we
will just let it go at that.

Once again I was conscious of being held within
that great self-illuminating electrified current that
had made itself manifest all along the way. Now, it
not only held me but interpenetrated, holding within
itself even this great "power house" which had so
impressed me with its importance that it seemed
there could be nothing greater. I looked with a new
interest upon the living fluid within it, saw it spread-

i by Google

178 How I Know That

ing itself out before me, going out into the violet-gold
space, illuminating as it went, lighting up the dark-
ness, even the red darkness, until I could see the far
away earth, small in the distance; and could see souls
all along the way held within its magnetized em*
brace, could see it touch the earth in the same care-
ful, vibratory way that it had touched my body, an
atom of earth. And again I asked myself — what is
this invisible, silent ghost-like power that seems to
be the living essence in everything? Suddenly it
either greatly magnified the earth or gave me tele-
scopic vision, for I could see the earth plainly, could
feel it vibrate and tremble in unison with the "Power
House" in which I stood, and up through this living
current I could hear the voices of its people. Over
all was a sense of a living connection between this
place and the earth, as the darkness slowly obscured
the earth and my vision passed out of harmonious
vibrations with the electrified essence. While my
senses lost sight of its presence there was something
within me that made me know that there was no such
thing as passing beyond its influence, as it interpene-
trated all things. I still looked down into the blue-
gold space without seeing, but the earth had taken on
a new interest for me. Those about me had spoken
of it as the most important phase of existence and I
wondered how I could have been so blindly indiffer-
ent while the privilege of its existence was upon me.
That hitherto obscure phrase, "The Brotherhood of
Man," {which theory I had often laughed to scorn)
prodded me with its importance. There had been
something glorious in the recognition and admission
of my oneness with God, Infinitude; but now I knew
that I must also recognize and admit, in the same

i by Google

The Dead Are AHve 179

way, my oneness with mankind for "God has made
of one blood all nations of men." And even yet fur-
ther was the acknowledgment of my oneness with all
living things, animate and inanimate; for the inani-
mate evolutes into the animate, the animate into
animals, animals into man and man into God; "The
race of men and God is one." Man is as God and
exercises the God perogative to that which is in the
scale below him and dependent on him; recognition
of and action in accordance with this responsibility
would greatly facilitate the problem of existence.
Nor is there any sex in soul — the same soul some-
times functions as a male — sometimes as a female in
the cycles of reincarnation. Referring to reincarna-
tion, every step I took fastened its reality more firm-
ly on me. It is, to me, the only explanation of the
inequalities of life as I saw them all along the way.
Reincarnation is the key to evolution — evolution the
key to existence in an individualized way.

A great new love was in my heart for the people
and the living things of earth. I sorrowed deeply
because of their blindness, which caused most of their
unhappiness and desired to go back and tell them
what I had seen and what I knew that it might al-
leviate conditions in even the smallest way, A voice
interrupted as I meditated:

"The first flush of the sunrise is even now upon the
earth."

This, however, did not deter me in my desire to go
back. In fact, I gave very little thought as to the
meaning of the sentence. The desire to go back was
growing, becoming more and more intense until it
seemed as I stood looking far down into the fathom-
less space, that I could hear the earth calling me —

i by Google

i8o How I Know That

calling me, strange fantasyl With this desire full
upon me, I turned to Meon and said:

"Meon, I want to go back."

He made no answer but looked at me with a
strange triumph in his eyes, saying:

"Come."

Forthwith we moved from the earth's registration
center and went higher up within the same environ-
ment where the influence of the earth was not felt
so intimately. A great soul came forward as I went
in and asked just as though I had told him :

"And you would return to earth?"

"Yes; if by so doing I could accomplish good."

"Suppose you could not, would you try regardless
of what it might mean to you?"

"I am not considering myself — I want others to
know what I know; it would make life so splendidly
different."

"Suppose they would not believe you?"

"I would like to give them the opportunity,
whether they would or not."

"Did the welfare of the people always interest
you ?"

"No."

"What has caused this change of sentiment?"

"Your splendid example and the process by which
I have been shown earth's necessity."

"Would you suffer torture that another might pass
into freedom?"

"I feel that I would endure anything that would
uplift humanity."

"All experience that sensation when it is too late,"
said the voice sorrowfully and I was left alone with
my new born desire, which did not change but rather

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive l8i

intensified, despite the discouraging remark that had
concluded the interview. I felt almost rebellious,
as though I would go back anyway regardless of all
opposition or opinions to the contrary and tell what
I knew regardless as to whether people believed it
or not.

Alone, removed from the direct influence of the
earth and the great spirits, I viewed the matter dis-
passionately from all points, and the more I thought
of it the more enamored I became of the project and
the more determined in its execution, at the same
time fully realizing that there were other forces to
be taken into consideration in a co-operative sense,
for in the great scheme of things there is no inde-
pendence;

"All are parts of one stupendous whole
Whose body nature is and God the soul."

Alone in that ether-electricity, one with the very
soul of things, in the intensity of my desire to return
to earth with a message of knowledge and love, I
lifted my eyes and there before me was a familiar
face — the one I had seen in the garden before leav-
ing the earth place; the agony was gone out of the
face and it was radiant with love and promise, at the
sight of which my soul rose up in pleading and I
cried out;

"Let it be so — let it be so," and again I was alone
with bowed head, the intensity of the desire burning
within me, feeling that it was not in vain; for some-
thing deep down within me was saying; "Christ, too,
is going back."

i by Google

i82 How I Know That

CHAPTER XXII.
PANORAMA OF LIFE AS LIVED ON EARTH.

When I again raised my eyes, vibrating directly
before me was a little light, so tiny that, at first, I
ignored it, but its persistence and magnetic attraction
compelled my attention, which I gave rather reluct-
antly at first, then eagerly as it began shaping itself
into something. As it vibrated it would disappear
downward only to reappear larger and brighter than
before. What was the meaning of it?

Then it appeared several times, illuminating dif-
ferent human faces, alternating male and female. It
was not unlike a moving picture. Now it seemed to
stand still before me larger and brighter than ever
and more compelling in its attractiveness. As it
started vibrating, a small, white, diaphanous, globe-
like formation appeared around it and grew with it.
In the growing it was no longer a tiny light within a
tiny globe; it was a pretty, delicate baby faice that
smiled innocently into mine. So tiny and helpless it
was that it appealed to me. Then I was given to
know that this bit of humanity represented myself as
I had come into this cycle of earth existence. As I
gazed upon it, it merged into a doll-faced curly-
haired, blue-eyed girl, incorporated within which I
could still see the little light, bright and radiating,
within the globe of White, which was within a
"shadow" body, that in turn, interpenetrated and
grew with the physical.

School days came and I heard people saying "she
is the brightest girl in school." Still she grew as the

ly Google

The Dead Are Alive 183

little light within glowed in harmony with the great
light that interpenetrates all things.

At this stage of the metamorphosic process I rea-
lized that it was truly myself, as I recognized the in-
cidents portrayed as pages from the book of my
schooldays, just as my memory retained them. Yet,
I was looking upon this creature dispassionately, just
as though it were someone else and in describing it I
shall do so as if it were. It is so much easier to write
in the third person, to say nothing of sparing the
reader a whole life history of I's.

We will go back and take up this frail little crea-
ture as she revels in music, the one grand passion be-
fore which all things else seem as nothing. It holds
her in bondage to itself, as she grows in the joy and
mastery of it. How the little, white fingers, too small
to span an octave, subconsciously caught fragments
from the "choir invisible" and imprisoned them on
the piano I

At college the last practice period in the evening
was in what was termed the "haunted music room,"
where most of the girls dared not go after nightfall,
so demoralizing was the story of the haunt but there
was something about the mystery of it that appealed
to this girl and made her prefer it to any of the other
rooms, although the piano was the most ill-toned as
well as ill-tuned in school. And now I even saw the
ghost of the old music room standing beside her as
she played — after all there -was a ghost, regardless of
the fact that she had laughed to scorn the idea. How
strange it seemed to actually see it now after all these
years I

With the coming of young womanhood I saw fall-
ing upon her a mantle which was labeled "SELF

i by Google

184 How I Know That

RESPONSIBILITY." It came upon her sudden-
ly, covering her from head to feet, yet she was as un-
conscious of its coming as she was of its potentiality
and went on just as though it had not come. As it
spread itself upon her there appeared before her
three roads ; one was labeled "GOOD" one "EVIL"
and the other, the center, was unlabeled. There
were thousands treading the center road where there
were hundreds on the others. There were many more
upon the road of "Good" than upon that of "Evil."
These roads were guarded by invisible creatures, ac-
cording to the indicated propensities of each, who
were always calling to those who traveled in the cen-
ter, in an endeavor to influence them to more de-
termined tendencies. Ever and anon there were
paths leading from the center to the outer roads and
from one outer road to the other, showing how easily
one can change ones course at will.

I saw the girl's feet upon the unmarked road, saw
her disappear in the onward moving rush and heard
the voices calling, calling to those who heeded and
those who heeded not.

When she came before me again there were two
great shadows — twin shadows, as it were, hovering
over her. One was labeled "Ambition," the other
"Selfishness," and under cover of these shadows I
saw her dreaming, dreaming, ever dreaming; the
mirage was a great singer; the compensation, the
homage of the world. I saw her holding to her
heart in enchanted fancy, as the only thing worth
while, the emptiest of all life's coveted cups — Fame.

With these terrible, dark shadows hovering over
her, — touching her, her eyes glowed, her heart beat
wildly, as she played on and on — sang on and on,

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 185

ever dreaming of that magical "some day" on which
she would sing as only dream singers can!

When night came, instead of lifting her fair, girl-
ish face that the light within might consciously re-
ceive the illuminating influence of the greater light,
she crept into bed, forgetful of all things except the
object of her dreaming and there was no one to re-
mind her that "by ambition fell the angels."

Then slowly, as by absorption, the twin shadows
crept within the white globe, staining it and dim-
ming the light within, unconscious of which she hap-
pily dreamed on. That "globe" eflfect was so pecu-
liar that it is hard to describe so it can be under-
stood, but I'll do my best. At first it was somewhat
like an ordinary globe around any light, only it was
nebulous; but as the bodies (the spiritual and physi-
cal) began manifesting and growing, it took on
rather an oblong shape, interpenetrating and extend-
ing out beyond the bodies several feet, giving the sug-
gestion of being the illumination from the little light
that still remained within the bodies, the life spark,
as it were. Colors came and went within it but they
were very unlike these dark red-hued shadows that
insinuated themselves into the whiteness about the
head and spilled downward. Spirits of love and
mercy focused their influence upon her, looking with
sadness upon the shadows which the sport period of
*'self responsibility" had fastened upon her. Spirits
of another kind came and smilingly whispered their
approbation and encouragement, as her "Spanish
Castles" grew to mighty proportions.

At last school days were over and I saw a proud,
self-centered woman at a health resort, laughing,
dancing and singing, with a heart as light and care-

i by Google

i86 How I Knoie That

free as that of a bird. The world was good to her.
She sang on, dreamed on, holding to her heart a pas-
sionate prayer to the Gods of destiny.

In the next scene she was sitting with a magazine
on her lap, idly turning the pages, her thoughts far
away, tangled in the meshes of illusion, delirious
with its soft caresses. Great souls of the Invisible
world stood beside her consulting as to her welfare,
looking sadly upon the shadow stained globe but not-
ing with satisfaction the pure whiteness where the
shadows were not. Other spirits nearby were listen-
ing curiously, some joyously, some sadly, all realiz-
ing the seriousness of the consultation except the one
most vitally concerned.

After some discussion and earnest deliberation one
of the great souls said, with finality:

"Take away the cause of the shadows — it is the
only way."

Then the great spirits went away sorrowfully, leav-
ing her at least one more day of joy in her castle on
the sands, before the tide would come and wash it
away.

Something of what had transpired sifted into her
consciousness, as she became restless and depressed
— "blue" without knowing why. Apprehensive fore-
bodings, indefinable but insistent, obtruded them-
selves upon her so forcibly that she laid the maga-
zine down, arose, shook it all ofi and went singing
to her room, where she arrayed herself in her most
beautiful and becoming gown and went to a rehearsal
of a society amateur theatrical to sing her "swan
song," the encores of which she held to her heart
as an advance consignment of the world's homage.

After the dancing began, a theatrical man made

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 187

the world her very own by saying :

"The world will hear of your singing some day — I
feel that I have made a find."

"Thank you," I heard her say, smiling serenely, re-
gardless of the riotous triumiph within.

"Would you accept an engagement?"

She looked at him in surprise and shrank away.
Her dream had not progressed to that materialistic
stage — the magical "Someday" was hid somewhere
behind an alluring veil, far away in the dim future,
with many days to dwell in dreamland before its com-
ing. Accordingly she made answer almost indiffer-
ently :

"Not just yet — some day — perhaps."

"Mistake — ^you are making a mistake — there is no
practice like stage practice for a stage career," he
hastily admonished.

"Perhaps," I heard her say, as she gave him her
permanent address before whirling away in a waltz,
delirious with triumph. She danced until the hours
were small and went home and sat for a long time
dreaming the old dreams in a higher key and then
slept as only the carefree can.

How vividly I recalled every incident as I saw it
re-enacted in this ethereal realm far away from the
earth, but it was hard to recognize this passionate,
fame-mad creature as myself. It had been so long
since I had enjoyed such rapturous madness that it
seemed to have been in some former incarnation in-
stead of only a few short years before.

All the details of this living picture I shall not in-
flict upon the reader but in this review of my earth
life even the most trivial incident was not omitted.
Its faithfulness to detail was perfectly marvelous.

i by Google

i88 How I Know That

Nothing was hidden, nothing slurred over. It was
all there. I was standing face to face with my earth
life just as I had lived it, awaiting its condemnation
or justification. In writing this, however, I am con-
fining myself to the most important incidents or main
thread, which is sufficient to show the interest and
influence of the invisible world on our earth lives in-
dividually, showing that while they respect the law
of self-responsibility they interfere when it is used or
abused to the detriment of the soul and operate or co-
operate according to the law of soul progression. It
is the exercise of this prerogative that sometimes
changes the most joyous life into a living death from
a mundane viewpoint, but fortunately the mundane
is not the only viewpoint. If one cannot or will not
grow strong spiritually and be happy at the same
time, happiness is removed, that the soul may have
its exercise on .the dumb bells of misery and thereby
grow strong, as spiritual strength is the only thing
worth while that we can take with us when we cross
over the Borderland.

There was a marked interval between the showing
of the happy, triumphant girl and the sick woman
who lay on a bed of agony the next morning. She
was ill, very ill, with a cold, or hoarseness that grew
so alarmingly worse that a physician came and diag-
nosed "Laryngitis." Without realizing the serious-
ness of it she wondered how she had "caught such a
cold," and felt it would be entirely dissipated within
a few days.

But when another day gave place to another and
yet another she knew different; she realized that she
was very ill — down in the "valley of the shadow."

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive '189

Breathing became so difficult that every effort, arti-
ficial and otherwise, was made to facilitate it.

I could see the "shadow" body within struggling
to free itself, to pass beyond its bondage which it
seemed to realize would thereafter be a bondage in-
deed — a veritable prison house of expiation. So des-
perate became these struggles that I heard those near
saying: "She is dying harder than any one I ever
saw."

Standing beside her through it all was the great
spirit whom I had heard say, "Take away the cause
of the shadows" and he touched her troubled soul,
speaking to it, spirit to spirit, and it struggled no
longer but settled down in the resignation that comes
only of such communion. Those watching about her
thought the transition had come but instead she
opened her eyes calmly to physical perceptions, then
slept easily, peacefully, while the great Spirit re-
mained, comforting her troubled soul, which had
not altogether relinquished its desire to escape from
its imprisonment of flesh while the bars of resistance
were down.

Hours after she was lying wearily on the bed,
awake, with the light gone out of her eyes and a great
fear gripping her heart. When she would have taken
comfort in the embraces of the old dream she found
something cold and lifeless about it — an utter lack
of responsiveness. It was then she turned to the doc-
tor and whispered in a hoarse, croaking way:

"My voice — will it come back?"

"In time— yes," he made answer professionally,
but she persisted :

"I mean — to sing?"

i by Google

190 How I Know That

She saw the sentence in his eyes before his lips pro-
nounced it:

"Possibly."

There was something — not the doctor — that told
her the truth. She knew and turned her face to the
wall, with her heart crying out, "Let me die — let me
die," and later, in a half conscious way, with her
face still to the wait, and her eyes closed, she was
murmuring over and over again, "My soul is dead —
my soul is dead."

There came another pause in this strange moving
picture — the space was blank — and then I saw her
taking up the burden of life in all its emptiness. Life
and singing had been to her synonymous and now
there was only life — the casket with the jewel gone.
She despised life — it had become a great, empty
waste and meant nothing to her. In the bitterness of
it all she cried out: "There is no God," and a cover-
ing of materialism began weaving about the globe,
which, still shadow-stained, enveloped her. The
same Great Spirit looked on sorrowfully, respecting
the law of self- responsibility and refrained from in-
terference, yet was ever present with his protecting
influence.

Then I saw her parents one after the other pass
into the spirit world and she was alone, fighting that
bitter fight; hating life, yet living. She felt that she
was alone in the world but she was not. The same
great spirit was with her always and when life's pit-
falls yawned across her pathway, his hand ever held
hers, lifting her safely over, preserving the white
spotlessness of the globe where it had not been
touched with the shadows which were growing dim-
mer and dimmer as the tragedies of life went on.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 191

Then her heart was touched by something that had
never come to it even in dreams, as ambition admitted
no rivals. At last she knew the meaning of love, the
splendor of which was so absorbing she felt it com-
pensated for all that had been taken away — it was to
her the "Land of Beginning Again," and life seemed
to start all over with new promises, new ideals, such
as ambition could never satisfy.

The great spirit smiled as though well pleased as
he looked upon her new dream, but he did not leave
her. He remained, helping her soul to grow yet
stronger and teaching many lessons as though there
was an object in view. She was not conscious of his
presence and he seemed well content to have it so,
seeming to know that when the time came for him to
be recognized the way would be paved for her re-
sponsiveness.

Then came that well- remembered train scene. I
saw her sitting there in perplexity, listening, wonder-
ing, while the great spirit was beside her. He had
spoken and she had heard. Then he took her hand
and she was conscious of his presence — it was Mean.

Then came the death scene — a scene of that very
night, bringing earth existence down to the very end
of its pilgrimage.

Naturally, regarding this as the end, I would have
turned away but something compulsory in its
strength held me. I looked about, half expecting to
ict something but to all appearances I was still alone
— perhaps it was the shadow of earth's spiritual deaf-
ness and blindness that made me unable to see. Then
I looked back where I had seen the "pictures" and
was standing face to face with myself as a spirit. I
looked at it and it looked at me. When this airy,

i by Google

192 How I Know That

fairy shadow form came and lay down at my feet in
the attitude of restful relaxation, I was woefully per-
turbed. A moment later, quivering before my eyes
was that same little light, larger and more illuminat-
ed, clothed with its wonderful globe radiance from
which all the shadows were gone. It was glowing in
unison with that same great living light essence in
which it was incorporated, which interpenetrated
everything. Then I looked down at the "shadow"
body — the light was gone out of it! — Was it possible,
— could it be dead? Being transparent, it seemed
that I could see the deadness all through it and I
shuddered, as I lifted my eyes again to the light that
had deserted. It was still quivering within its won-
derful illumination, then it slowly quivered upward
and outward beyond the range of my vision. Again
I looked upon the "dead" shadow body and shrank
away from it, wondering, wondering — what could
this mean? Did the "Shadow" body have to pass
through the valley of death just as the physical did?
In perplexity I turned away from it all and there
stood Meon waiting. I would have told him what
I had seen but he interrupted me evenly:

"I know."

"But why did you treat me like that, Meon?" I
demanded.

"To build an edifice on the ashes," he answered im-
pressively.

"And changed your mind?" almost sarcastically.

"No," with a touch of reproach that made me say
hastily :

"Forgive me, Meon. What I saw made me live
it all over again, the bitterness and the agony of it.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive '193

but it does not matter now and I thank you for your
interest."

"Now that you understand better the relationship
of the earth plane and the lives after it, is it your de-
sire to remain here or to return?"

"Return to earth," I replied unhesitatingly, re-
joicing in this privilege which I felt would be mine,
yet admitting that it was more than my worthiness
justified.

"That is well," he said, as joined by many great
souls who rejoiced with us, we descended into the
environment which I has designated "the Power
House;" and stood waiting.

"Come, tarry not, lest the gates of earth close
against you," he admonished. "Are you ready?" I
knew he meant the deterioration of the body and re-
plied quickly: "I am," as I thought of what a catas-
trophe it would be, if after all, I returned to find the
brand of death already upon my physical abode.

While I waited for Meon to lead the way — to go
as we had come in — the floor seemed to give way and
we went down with the sensation of falling through
space.

i by Google

194 How I Know That

CHAPTER XXIII.
MUNDANE READJUSTMENT.

I was trying to open my eyes, the lids of which had
grown stiff and unyielding; trying to adjust myself
in a case which seemed to have shrunken ; trying to
move hands that had grown heavy beyond my ability
to lift. Meon and other spirits were hovering about
me; I could feel the electrified essence, which had
manifested its presence everywhere during my voy-
aging, drawing itself away — letting me go, as it were.
Then the burden of physical life was full upon me
and what a misfit I was! I felt as though I had been
crammed into something several sizes too small for
me. The heat within was awful while the exterior
was cold and as heavy as lead.

While laboring in this agony of readjustment the
nurse raised up, rubbing her eyes, with an expression
of guiltiness on her face for having overslept:

"My how I have slept!" she was saying. "All
night without waking; when have I done such a
thing!"

Then she looked at- me as though she had just
thought of me and asked, trying to prune her voice
to professional cadence;

"How are you this morning?"

"Very well, thank you," I managed to mumble as
my benumbed tongue obeyed reluctantly the demand
made upon it. Had she been less sleepy I am sure
she would have noted the unusual sound of my voice,
which was quaky and scarcely audible. Instead she
yawned violently, drew herself up, got out of bed and

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 195

went into the bathroom, leaving me thankful for the
opportunity of further readjustment and examination
of my exact physical status after existing for so long
entirely independent of the body.

While she made her toilet I took the inventory.
The finger nails were blue as though bruised. As I
was unable to raise myself I could not see my toe
nails but fancied that they were in the same condi-
tion and pushed them under the edge of the sheet and
shut my hands so she could not see them and turned
my face where it would be in shadow, all the time
wondering how it looked. When I shut my hands I
could not feel the nails on the palms and altogether
there was such an unnatural feeling that I began
investigating and of all disconcerting things it was
the discovery that my body was insensible! How
awesome was the thought of being a living soul in
a dead body I I pinched myself, easily at first, then
as vigorously as my limited strength would permit.
This having no effect I took a hairpin, from where
I had put it the night before when I loosened my
hair, and with it pricked my arms, then my body
through the thin gown but there was no more sensa-
tion than if I had been pricking the bed! It was
terrible and I heard the nurse coming and closed my
eyes. She came very near and after looldng at me
critically for a moment, remarked :

"Not eating is certainly telling on you."
Then it all came back, this sickening tragedy that
seemed a thing of some other cycle of time, so much
had happened since it had tortured me, and I had
no time nor patience for it now, as the dead condi-
tion of my body was consuming all of my considera-
tion. It was then when the very thought of eating

i by Google

196 How I Know That

was most hateful to me that breakfast was brought
in, arranged in the daintiest and most tempting man-
ner. I could have screamed at the sight of it, but
restraining myself, I smiled and said pleasantly:

"I don't care for anything this morning, thank
you."

After the tray had been taken away and the nurse's
arguments over with, I again settled down to the per-
plexing problem confronting me. What ought I
to do? After deliberating for a long time J called to
the' nurse :

"Will you please bring my rubber flesh brush from
the bath room?"

When she returned with it, I said, by way of ex-
planation :

"Thank you — my flesh seems so dead."

She looked at me disapprovingly and turned away
without a word, as I began rubbing vigorously with-
out producing the slightest effect. With the deter-
mination of making myself feel, I summed up all
the strength I could and attacked my arm just below
the elbow with a strenuousness that X did not realize
until I felt the rubber working easily as though on
damp flesh and looked at the arm to discover that the
skin was removed and the blood oozing out, dampen-
ing the rubber. There was something sickening about
it — so much so that my hands fell weak and helpless
by my sides and the rubber rolled off on the floor. The
nurse came over and picked it up and then brought
a towel dipped in perfumed ice water and rubbed
my face, which no doubt would have been refreshing
if I could have felt it. I kept my arm in a position
that hid the wound, shrinking from a questioning to
which there was no satisfactory answer.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 197

Then I realized that worrying was not helping me
so what was the use of worrying? Plato tells us,
"Nothing in human affairs is worth any great
anxiety," and his philosophy is still our greatest ex-
position of idealism — in a speculative way. So I dis-
missed, or rather crowded out thoughts of my body
by reviewing the occurrences of the night before and
tried to formulate in my mind a working basis of all
things being one, being interpenetrated by that won-
derful magnetic or electrical current, invisible,
silent, powerful. Finally the illustration that most
appealed to me was likening it to an electric power
house to which we arc as the lights in the different
parts of the city, each with its own scope of illumina-
tion, a power that can be turned on or off at will.
Connected it illuminates our own pathway and those
of others, if turned off we grope as blind creatures,
crying out in the darkness. But we cannot get away
from this silent invisible power; it is always there, to
be used or abused as we elect.

How wonderful it all was and yet I dared not even
hint it to any one, despite the fact that we have
reached that stage of progression where we recognize
nothing as impossible, using every day commonplace
things which were once high among recognized im-
possibilities. Suppose for instance some one had told
our forefathers, as they rubbed stones together to pro-
duce a light, that the time would come when by touch-
ing a tiny button a whole building or city would be
lighted up instantly — that a man could sit in Wash-
ington and press a button that would light up a sky-
scraper in New York or anywhere else on this con-
tinent and that in future, the same could be done
anywhere in the world. When they were killing

ibvGooglc

198 How I Know That

their horses riding in mad haste to deliver messages
suppose some one had Suggested that the time would
be when a message could circle the globe before they
could saddle the horse ; could they then have believed
that a person could sit in ane city and converse with
another miles away; could they foresee the wonders
of wireless telegraphy — and that the same principle
will in time be applied to telephony? Take moving
pictures for instance — suppose some misguided
wretch had suggested years ago that anyone could
play in New York and be seen by the whole world;
further, that the player dying would make no differ-
ence — he or she could play on and could be seen
after death just the same as befote. Similarly in the
case of a phonograph record — it is not altered in the
least by the death of the singer — tef hnically we hear
the dead sing — see the dead play, but there is nothing
supernatural about it. It is that great silent invisible
force ELECTRICITY demonstratiny its power on
earth at it does in the invisible spheres. We have
made all these wonderful things commoo by every-
day use and so we will go ever onward filling the won-
ders of today with the commonplaces of tomorrow,
and there are many wonders still unborn, greater
even then we dream.

Spirit communication is one of the wonders of to-
day that tomorrow will claim for its commonplaces,
when we will converse with the so-called dead as
easily as we now do with the living; communicate
with other realms as we now do other cities; visit the
invisible worlds, leaving our physical bodies at home
just as we now do our other material possessions.

Really spirit communication is nothing new — it
is as old as the records of the world; all religion is

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 199

based on it; without it there would be no religious
foundation, nothing on which to hang the theory of
"life after death." While conscious continuity of
life has been admitted down through the ages, evi-
dence of it has always been shrouded in mystery and
uncertainty — a glaring inconsistency — but the time
is now upon us when it refuses to be denied any
longer and insists on taking its place in the foremost
ranks of demonstrated facts. It is a demonstrated
fact, admitted by the greatest scientists and thinkers
of the world, who see the "handwriting on the wall"
that all who will may read and understand.

The history of spirit communion is rather diversi-
fied, as each age had treated it in its own way whether
right or wrong. In Biblical times those who com-
muned with spirits were sacred, the chosen of God;
in later days they were burned at the stake as witches,
heretics and worse ; still later they were incarcerated
within asylums for the insane; but now it has met us
at Philippi — we stand face to face with it, with no
choice but acceptance; and still later, in the future,
it will revolutionize the world. There will be peace,
one nation, one religion and we will wonder how it
could ever have been otherwise. However, there is
a price, a mighty toll, to be paid before this ideal
condition prevails.

How I digress I

I could not chain my thoughts to earth that day;
they would soar away and I seemed to live in that far
away world, away from the earth and all of its sor-
didness, but when the lunch hour came it dragged
me down again to that everlasting eating tragedy —
the war of the seen and unseen over a soul that be-
longed to neither and yet to both — one exacting a

i by Google

200 How I Know That

fast, the other a feast. The nurse had reached the
limit of her patience and a few minutes later I heard
her phoning the doctor, admitting her inability to
"cope with such contrariness."

About the middle of the afternoon the doctor came
and after exhausting his power of persuasion, de-
livered the following ultimatum :

"You will either eat or be sent where the opera-
tion will be performed under compulsory condi-
tions."

I flinched under such a lash but made no appeal.
After he had gone, however, I cried pleadingly to
the forces that held me, cried out into the invisible
void, "be merciful," but no answering voice came
back and I knew that until I was released the fast
would prevail regardless of consequences. But was
there such a place where people could be made to eat
whether they wanted to or not? Was he trying to
frighten me into compliance?

I asked myself lots of questions and was very un-
happy for a while and then utterly weary of the
tragedy of it all — of watching preparations go for-
ward in accordance with the doctor's ultimatum, of
the bitterness of it all, I turned my face to the wall.
Tears that hurt as they moistened the dry benumbed
lids came sparingly as though the parched lids ab- .
sorbed them before they could escape. Then a peace
came upon me — I did not care — nothing mattered.
No matter how the tide ebbed I would just drift with
it in utter disregard. I would make no appeal where
either World was concerned, they could do with me
as they liked. Suddenly I realized that I was ex-
ceedingly hungry and thirsty and there was a sting-
ing sensation in the throat It needed no one to tell

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 201

me that I had been released. I knew it before I
heard the voice saying:

"Eat — drink."

Now that the fasting pressure was lifted a strange
regret, almost apprehensive, came upon mc and I
was wondering if the spiritual privileges had been
entirely withdrawn and I had been unreservedly
given back to the physical. Though hungry and
thirsty I remained for some time as I was, loath to
dissipate a condition that had played its part in the
transitional drama of the night before, the memory
of which seemed even more beautiful than the reali-
ty. I had wanted to come back to earth but now was
T altogether satisfied that I had done so?'

A special dinner was prepared that evening and
served with as much ceremony as though in reality it
celebrated my return from the "Port of Missing
Men," all of which I appreciated more than I dared
express, feigning an indifference the absence of
frankness enforced. However, I ate very sparingly,
as someway, I was not really hungry when the time
came but it satisfied those interested and that was
much.

At last the long day with its mundane and super-
mundane exactions was over and I was alone in the
night watches again, wondering if I had been given
back unreservedly to the mundane and was almost
afraid to call into the silence lest I should find it
void, a confirmation more terrible than suspense. As
I waited in this awful uncertainty, I perceived Mcon
beside me, felt the great electrified current envelop
me, and before I fully realized what was transpiring,
I was again riding on the vibratory waves of space.

i by Google

How I Know That

CHAPTER XXIV.

MUNDANE AND SUPERMUNDANE RE-
LATIONSHIP.

"That which was profit^le to the soul of man the Father
revealed to the ancients; that which is profitable to the sout of
man today revealeth He this day."

Again I looked down upon my vacated body but
it was not nearly so interesting as it had been the
night before, and aiter the most casual observation I
vibrated leisurely about within the environment of
the earth, wondering what was forthcoming.

For some time I waited for Meon to speak but as
he did not, I ventured:

"Where are we going, Meon?"

"Would you care to observe the earth in its actual
relationship with the invisible?"

"Nothing would please me more," I assured him,
feeling almost enthusiastic at the prospect.

"Come," he called and we vibrated lower upon the
face of the earth where the vibrations became more
pronounced, as we harmonized with its magnetism.

I floated easily about over the city, taking what
might be termed a physical inventory. I wanted to
see if things looked the same viewed from the other
side of life. They did. Moonlight flooded the city
ivith its softness and I looked into the faces of the
stars, feeling the witchery of the night's perfection
much as I had always done; the automobiles, con-
veyances, pedestrians, were hurrying along just as
usual. The buildings and everything looked just
the same.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 203

l^c "town dock" was nearing the midnight hour.
After looking into its familiar face a few seconds, I
turned away and would have walked upon the side-
walk that I rttight go into the buildings through their
doors but Meon entered easily through the wall, and
with just a little misgiving I followed and learned
that material constructions or obstructions formed
no bar to my sight or passing, I was surprised that
I had not thought of that before as it seemed I must
have known it, as otherwise how could I have gone
out and come in the night before?

As the inhabitants lay wrapped in the oblivion of
sleep we passed into their homes, even unto the most
sacred firesides and stood aghast as the doors of skele-
ton closets creaked on their rusty hinges and strange
ghosts walked out in full view, concealing nothing;
nothing could be concealed as between souls there
can be no deceptions. Those of us who spend our
energies making deception and concealment fine arts
find in the end how worse than useless has been the
expenditure of our energies. How strange it all
seemed as we violated home after home, passing
through the "halls of pleasure," and the "isles of
pain," until I began to feel ashamed of the unfair
advantage I was taking of unsuspecting and defense-
less humanity and would have returned but Meon
spurred me to renewed activity by saying solemnly :

"One must first procure knowledge before giving
it — to serve humanity one must know humanity."

And thus using my purpose to excuse my act, I
went on and on, suspended above or standing by the
bedside of the sleeping, conversing with the soul that
never sleeps. In fact, in some instances souls were
entirely absent from the bodies as they slept, away

i by Google

204 How I Know That

somewhere. When I first observed that sleep is
nothing more nor less than the soul leaving the body
lor the higher pleasures and benefits of the spirit
world I was shocked but soon became accustomed to
seeing disembodied spirits and spirits of the sleeping
mingling together in the friendliest and most natural
manner.

The "household" or guardian spirits in some
homes objected to our entry and we passed on, re-
specting the objection without question, as some
spirits love the human beings over whom they keep
watch so devotedly that they exclude from them all
other spirit influence or interference. Such protec-
tion other spirits respect as long as the human beings
thus guarded make no objections, and as most per-
sons are unconscious of invisible solicitude they
neither appreciate it nor object to it. In some in-
stances it is all right but in others it would be better
to break the influence. However, this breaking up
or changing ones invisible household is a very serious
matter and should be undertaken only with discrim-
inating intellectuality and spirituality, or even more
undesirable entities may enter into the vacancy cre-
ated by the departure of those who must retire at the
command of the one concerned. While the law of
"like attracts like," is excellent, we must not lose
sight of the fact that "a chain is no stronger than its
weakest link" and that we are no stronger than our
weakest propensity.

"And good may ever conquer ill

Health walk where pain has trod

'As a man thinketh so he is'

Arise and think with God."

ly Google

The Dead Are Alive 205

Varied were the emotions born within me as I
viewed uncovered souls and knew them as they knew
themselves in all their sin-laden weariness and sor-
row-laden memories. Even the whitest and purest
souls suffer because of fancied sins even more than
real criminals suffer for real crimes. Even little
children sorrow deeply, as I saw little pillows damp
with childish tears that aching hearts had pumped to
the surface — a soul as old as time struggling with a
new opportunity. Selfishness enthroned itself in many
hearts while the willing subjects held unto themselves
the joy of self-love which poisons while it pleases.
There were blackened souls within handsome and
beautiful bodies of men and women ; souls too pure
and white for earth's tragedies incorporated within
weak, deformed and ugly bodies; then there vyere
beautiful souls within beautiful bodies ; hideous souls
within hideous bodies, and so it went on and on, the
invisible influence ever in evidence. Some otherwise
beautiful souls were held in unconscious bondage by
invisible earth-magnetized beings whose influence
was worse than degrading, even criminal. It is such
influence that sometimes make criminals after com-
mitting a most revolting crime defend their actions
by claiming that "God" or some scion among the in-
fluential dead told them to do it. They feel perfectly
justified in what they have done regardless of con-
sequences to themselves or any one else. Such earth-
magnetized spirits live, in a way, the physical life, at
the expense of human beings, and in some way gather
unto themselves strength beyond the average spirit,
so much so that they can imitate the voice or appear-
ance of any person they find it expedient to represent.
They find some person of their own instincts and

i by Google

2o6 How I Know That

dominate him and when he is sufficiently sensitive for
the purpose for which he has been trained, they ap-
pear to him, or speak assuming the appearance or
voice of the person most effective in the accomplish-
ment of their design. They assist in the accomplish-
ment of crime, as well as in the apprehension of the
criminal, rejoicing in the chain of misery they have
the power to create as well as to satisfy their craving
to identify themselves with physical action. St. Paul
warns us :

"Beloved, believe not every spirit but try the
spirits whether they are of God."

Reason was given us to use, therefore, we should
put the search light of reason on everything, spiritual
as well as material. No matter what comes from the
invisible world submit it to the highest pressure of
reason before becoming identified with it or acting
in accordance with it. Spirits are only disembodied
human beings, who take human frailties and perver-
sities into the spirit world with them, some having
a very hard time ridding themselves of them. We
retain our identity absolutely as we would not be
ourselves if by simply coming out of our physical
bodies we changed immediately into a soul much
better or infinitely worse. What we are in this world
is what we will be when we "wake up and find our-
selves dead" and so we shall remain until, by our
own spiritual strength, we evolve into the higher con-
ditions of the after life. However, it is possible for
us to so live while in the earth life that we may pass
unconsciously through all eliminating conditions,
and wake in what one might term the Heaven World,
a condition of extreme spiritual happiness. Very few
go by way of this direct route.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 207

I cannot too strongly impress it upon the reader
that there are no lost souls. The unfortunate crea-
tures who go into the spirit world after abusing,
through their own weakness, the privilege of earth
life, fall out of the evolutionary vibrations for a time
and become creatures of retrogression instead of pro-
gression but sooner or later that ever onward irresist-
ible current takes them within itself and unifies them
with the great scheme of things. We may give this
class our pity and our prayers but we must shut them
out of communion with us until we have attained
soul strength sufficient to uplift them instead of be-
ing degraded by them. In fact, they are very good
things to leave alone entirely until we are quite sure
of ourselves. We must learn to know that nothing
can make us evil or commit criminal acts against our
wills — nothing can really hurt us but ourselves.
There is a "still small voice" within which we call
"conscience" and which never fails. When in doubt
we should just listen to it. Uistening, we cannot act
wrong and feel happy in so doing.

So I floated on and on over the sleeping city, listen-
ing and learning, earth life an open book before me.
I floated through the iron bars into the jail and
looked down with pity noting that there were souls
not nearly so shadow stained as many who were free.
Poor dominated creatures, miserable and pliant in
their unconscious servitude, I wanted to tell them
how easy it would be to shake off such influence and
be free but not one heard me, although I persisted
in calling. One young man, a sailor, turned quickly
and listened when I called but that was all. Al-
though the hour was late he was sitting, staring out
of the window: he turned his face, listened a mo-

i by Google

2o8 How I Know That

ment then sighed and stared on. He was thinking
of his home and loved ones across the sea, and I could
see the little home and all of its details, his mind
imaged it so perfectly.

Then I went down on the wharves, into the ships
and every ship had its individual invisible household,
that seemed to belong to it as much as the furniture
or even the material with which it was built. These
spirits seemed to be much happier in every way than
those who confine themselves upon the land. Instead
of making objections to my coming among them they
welcomed me more cordially than any other class
that I had intruded my presence upon. It was really
like a social diversion. They talked freely, explain-
ing many things of interest. They accompanied me
out upon the wharves but in no instance did they
enter a ship other than their own.

When I was back upon the land rather a pitiable
condition manifested itself to me. There were souls
who could not realize that they were dead and imag-
ined themselves still in the earth life. One was ex-
cessively unhappy because of being ignored by
friends and loved ones. He could see and hear them
but they could not hear him speak nor see him. Not
knowing that he was dead he could not understand
why. Some were groping about, ever feeling, as
though they could not see, calling in the most pitiful,
pleading way, "Where are you? — ^where are you?"
as though searching for some one they could not find,
with the name dearest to them ever on their lips. I
realized what a dreadful thing it was to live in the
spirit world recognizing only the physical, ignoring
the soul, shutting it out from the growth and develop-
ment which is the purpose of the earth existence and

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 209

the reason it is given to us. I shuddered and turned
away from this condition, to one, if anything, more
uncanny; there were souls sleeping — peacefully
enough — but just sleeping in the darkness — ^waiting
— waiting for what? A call to awaken them, or had
they just dropped out to peacefully await another
cycle of time? Those who slept were certainly not
unhappy, but just sleeping "even as you and I.'*

I had grown weary of seeing things I did not care
to see and turned my eyes away, shutting out all
sights, wondering if there was nothing beautiful in
the relationship of the seen and unseen. So far my
observations had been rather disappointing, and I
felt inclined to go back into my body if what I had
seen was all there was to our invisible relationship.
When I would have made this suggestion to Meon
I observed that everything was changed, even the vi-
brations were different. I could feel the interpene-
tration of that great electrified current, see the light
of it spreading out over everything. Great souls were
coming down through the darkness illuminating as
they came down the electrified pathway between the
earth and the higher planes. While these beings do
not directly interfere with the law of "self -responsi-
bility," which requires each soul to choose for itself
between right and wrong, their influence has much
to do with the choosing, as well as in the rectifying
when the wrong choice has been made, each soul pay-
ing the price its wrong choice involves.

Almost every one is, at times, consciously or uncon-
sciously en rapport with these highly evolved souls,,
as they harmonize with the mundane strata and leave
permanent creations in the form of art, literature,
music, love — things that make life worth while to

i by Google

2IO How I Know That

us. There is a note within every human being in
tune with the infinite and we must sometimes feel it
when the chord is struck. Sometimes we are con-
scious of it when we stand in the presence of a mas-
terpiece of nature or of man. At such times a mem-
ory, a chord or strain of music touches within and
stabs us, as it were, with something too deep and ex-
quisite to analyze, leaving a sense of something high-
er — illusive though it may be — something, some-
where — the soul-touch of higher things.

There is another class of spirits that seem to be-
long, in rather a permanent way, to the invisible
world about us. They are not highly evolved and
know practically nothing about the world beyond
this but they seem to be helpers and friends to hu-
manity, doing all they can to make the earth life
happier. They are very happy and companionable
themselves, laughing and playing like children
amongst us all the time. Nor are they above playing
harmless pranks and jokes on us, which give them
much amusement and do not harm us. They are more
attracted and helpful to some persons than others, as
some seem to attract while others repel them. Their
position does not seem to be an important one but
they keep life from being too burdensomely serious
by adding to it a touch of humor and playfulness.
They go down under the earth which is very easy of
access to them and to a certain extent in the air, con-
fining themselves, however, very closely within the
area of human habitation. They have names which
are very unlike the earth variety but rather pretty.
While I have never attended a spiritualistic seance
of any kind I fancy these spirits would lend them-
selves quite unreservedly to such occasions and do all

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 21 1

they could to promote communication between the
two worlds but if they presided over it entirely there
would be little to learn further than the possibility of
such communication. The mere fact that such com-
munication is possible, however, is much to the in-
vestigator.

Then came a phase so tender and beautiful that I
looked on almost reverently. It was the tender solici-
tude of departed loved ones.

There was the good, pure spirit mother watching
lovingly over her children, especially the little ones
whom her transition had left at the mercy of the
world. I saw her bending with hopeful persuasion
over the wayward son, pleading with him who heed-
ed her not. There was the loving, protecting father
helping and comforting the child that needed him
most, teaching the one most vulnerable to his influ*
ence; innocent little children were kissing the lips of
their sleeping parents, murmuring "Mama — Papa;"
there was the loving husband or wife, trying to light-
en burdens that weighed heavily on beloved should-
ers and impress his or her presence on the object of
solicitude. Friends came to friends; loved ones to
loved ones. Eyes looked tenderly into eyes that saw
them not; voices went lovingly into ears that heard
them not; lips pressed lips that felt them. not.

"Eyes watch us that we cannot see
Lips warn us that we may not kiss

They wait for us and starrily

Lean towards us from Heaven's lattices."

The beauty of all this was that these souls were not
bound by the magnetism of the earth but by the ties
of love, which transition glorified, making it a pure,

i by Google

212 How I Know That

holy offering, compared to which love in the earth
life is only a shadow. They come and go at will.
Yet, I strongly advise those investigating this subject
or any one who passes into a condition of sensitiveness
sufficient to communicate with the invisible, not to
call too often to the loved ones on the other side, as
they have their lives there with its attending duties
of progression, which demand much of them. The
refining of the soul is a delicate process which inter-
ference complicates. If they care to come of their
own volition it is well; let them understand that
you are always glad to have them come when they
will. I looked upon some beautiful souls that were
held almost earth-bound by the continuous and sel-
fish calling of loved ones still in the earth life who
could not even recognize them when they came and
were regardless of the sacrifices they were causing.
When it is possible for our loved ones to come they
will do so without our exacting it. On the other
hand such exactions without the possibility of com-
pliance leave us open to spirits of deception who
would gladly embrace the opportunity of represent-
ing themselves to be the desired one. As we are prone
to believe without question what our loved ones tell
us, we thereby risk putting ourselves in the power of
unscrupulous spirits. Those who have learned dis-
crimination run no such risks; it is the beginner who
should be careful.

Another interesting phase of this wheels-within-
wheels, mundane-supermundane conglomeration was
that of persons who had passed out of life with un-
finished work to which they had devoted their lives
and talents. They were seeking earnestly for "sen-
sitives" vulnerable to their influence. When such a

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 213

"receiving station" is found they help and direct
without dominating the continuance of their achieve-
ments and labors, to which is added the knowledge
that the evolution to a higher existence supplies —
one of the greatest forces in earth's progress. Many
of our great men are still living amongst us in this
way. Instead of going on the journey of individual
progression they are sacrificini; themselves on the al-
tar of progression of humanity in general, which in
the end will be a sacrifice more than well made.

As I went on taking soul inventories over the city
I came near unto my fiance but loyalty placed her
white hands over my soul's eyes and I passed on with-
out the slightest desire of "seeing unseen" any skele-
tons that might darken his closet — if there were any
they were, to me, too sacred to violate. This, how-
ever, did not apply to his friends, so I vibrated out
to the home of one of his business associates and float-
ed (hrough the walls into his presence. He was sur-
rounded by highly evolved beings, who while they
loved him very much made not the slightest objec-
tion to my coming as near to him as I desired. He
recognized my presence immediately as that of a
spirit, an unseen thing, without recognizing who it
was. I was shocked to see suspended over his head
a scroll so nearly unwound that it was hanging by the
merest thread, vibrating, quivering, threatening to
"let go" as I looked. It needed no one to tell me
that this soul was preparing to "raise anchor" for
other seas.

When I would have told him, would have warned
him of his coming transition, I perceived that he
knew it and was arranging his business affairs ac-
cordingly. As I looked upon his soul splendor I

i by Google

214 How I Know That

realized how erroneous is the teaching against the
spiritual greatness of a rich man. He was rich un-
questionably in material possessions but richer still
in soul achievement and spiritual strength. In the
consciousness of his impending transition I remained
for some time studying this phase of life's drama and
then left the room wrapped in that awed reverence
we feel in the presence of approaching "death."

The next day I told my fiance of this coming tran-
sition but he chided me for "foolish fancies'* but I
knew different — a difference which a few weeks
verified.

When I was again suspended over the city I bathed
listlessly in the moonlight, listening to the moaning
of the sea, with all desire for further delving into the
soul problem gone. It was all such a tangled web, so
many conflicting influences and contradictory mani-
festations that I felt it was a problem stupendous be-
yond my ability to solve — a veritable puzzle. Really
there was no happiness. There was no soul however
shadowed by sin that sorrow did not outweigh the
sin, even in those who "combine one virtue with a
thousand crimes." In the midst of my conjectures I
noted a strange shadow-like darkness, creeping upon
the earth, enveloping it and such a wave of tragedy
and unhappiness swept over me that I was alniost
afraid. I mrned with the thought of running back
into my body but the darkness was terrible and I
heard a voice saying: "Earth is a giant Gethsemanc,"
and so it seemed, as I waited, wondering.

Then I felt the great electrified current and my
distress vanished instantly. I could see it spreading
out, far out over the face of the earth dispelling the
darkness, consuming the sorrow. Everything was

i by Google

The Dead Are AHve 215

transformed, transfigu'red, and looking up I saw the
"Power House" as though it were very near and
great was the illumination between. As I looked
suddenly I beheld a face that we all know and heard
voices crying out:

"Behold Uie second coming of Christ."

Slowly this vision faded and I was looking down
on the uncovered souls of the city just as though there
had been no insert of agonizing darkness followed by
the light and its wonderful promise. So much had
been crowded into such a limited period of time that
there was a sense of confusion and uncertainty in the
midst of which I appealed to Meon:

"Meon, I want to go back — I am so tired that
fancy is taking liberties with me."

"Very well, but to accuse Fancy is not to convict
it."

"But is Christ coming to earth again?"

"Certainly," he replied impressively. "The rein-
carnation of this great teacher by a perfectly natural
and recognized law is soon to be fulfilled."

Further questioning availed little and when I
would have escaped into my body as into a refuge I
observed beside it a spirit woman crouching furtive-
ly, her hands grasping frantically trying to touch it,
her eyes gleaming, her face passionate with eager-
ness, showing how vitally intent she was upon her
purpose whatever it was. I turned to Meon for ex-
planation :

"What is she doing?" I asked mystified.

"Trying to appropriate your body during your
absence," he replied evenly, filling me with appre-
hension, which he allayed by adding: "But she wont

ibvGooglc

2i6 How I Know That

— she cannot even touch it. It is protected against
invasions of all kinds."

Looking up she saw us and with a screeching,
moaning cry she slunk away in the darkness. The
echoes of her piteous moans wafted back, making
even the "flesh" of my soul "creep." I gazed' after
her intently even after I could no longer see nor hear
her, conjecturing. Then suddenly I was a^ast at
the revelation, feeling that I had solved the mystery
of "lost identity," which has so baffled our ph3rsicians
and scientists.

Then I slipped into my body and readjusted myself
much more easily than I had the night before.

AH souls leave their bodies at times consciously or
unconsciously, always during sleep, which is only
a matter of the soul (or spirit) leaving the body and
going out into the spirit world. When it returns we
"wake up." Why do we not bring back the con-
sciousness of such experiences ? Really I do not know.
What I do know is that souls are out of their bodies
during sleep for I saw this to be a fact. Some were
near their bodies, others were nowhere to be seen,
evidently on journeys into higher realms. However,
during this time the bodies are protected against pir-
acy of the earth magnetized beings, who would be
glad to appropriate any body in order to function in
the earth life. Because of this splendid system of
protection such cases are fortunately exceedingly
rare. It is a very interesting subject none the less. I
recall reading recently of a case where even the eyes
and the stature had changed. The fact is, it is an
entirely different soul that inhabits the body. Possi-
bly the former incumbent deserted its earth abode for
joys of other realms leaving it at the mercy of the

ib. Google

The Dead Are Alive 217

merciless. Possibly some disembodied spirit gained
strength superior to the embodied and simply ejected
it. Too, I believe this change has been made by
spirits so conversant with the affairs of the person
in question that no one ever suspected it. There are
cases where persons have changed in character so
suddenly and entirely that no accepted theory could
reasonably explain them. There are, I believe, in-
stances where the rightful owner has, after a time,
regained possession of its earth abode and remem-
bers nothing of the transaction, or so claims. The
chances are that he does not. On the other hand
Public Opinion (the tyrant that makes or mars the
average life) would curtail frankness in the matter.
This also could be applied to insanity.

This, however, was not the only time I saw that
woman and heard her wailings. At times while with-
in my body I felt her disturbing presence, which was
always heralded by an unaccountable attack of what
we call the "blues." Then I strengthened myself
against her influence, mentally affirming that she
could not affect me in any way, that I was superior
to such influence. After that when she came there
was only the consciousness of her sinladcn and sor-
rowing presence. I pitied her and spoke to her kind-
ly, asking her to leave me, which she always did im-
mediately but as she went the moaning cries that
floated back pierced my heart with a pity that was
painful.

Later she came and seemed more comforted. Her
cries became less and less agonizing, and her presence
less disturbing.

At last she came — it was a soft, breeze-laden sum-
mer's night as I lay in convalescense. I perceived her

i by Google

2i8 How I Know That

presence and knew she stood beside the bed but as she
had never spoken, I did not even listen. Then she
came very near — nearer than she had ever come be-
fore and whispered pleadingly:

"Let me touch your Hand, please."

I lifted my hand that she might take it if she so de-
sired and as her icy touch came upon it she bent over
me and said with passionate earnestness:

"Oh, beautiful soul, through you I have seen the
truth and the light and I go toward them blessing
you."

With all my weaving of dreams, all the promises
that passing behind the veil had given, I had never
considered the possibility of helping a soul that had
passed beyond the mundane, while I was still in the
mundane life, and yet, why not? While still marvel-
ing at the revelation she passed out of my presence
and has never since returned.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 219

CHAPTER XXV.
THE LINK OF INFINITUDL

The next day was dreary, melancholy and the
mood was contagious, especially when as the after-
noon wore on, rain drizzled with a plaintive,
pattering sound on the metal roof, distant thunder
rolled and a rough sea was roaring and moaning as
the waves dashed on the rocks beyond the seawall.
A fitting background for depression. Then the rain
poured down with the steadiness that promises to last
several hours and I listened to the downpour with a
vague sense of unhappiness. Tears came and went
spasmodically as that "what is the use?" feeling
pressed upon me. The conviction that I was going
to die was a thing not to be shaken off; I argued that
one could not live who was already dead. I realized
that while out of my body I lived with the so-called
dead — that my body was only a place where I "kept
up appearances*' of being alive during the day but
when night came I deserted it for the real life — the
life in the spirit world. I felt that all my hopes and
dreams had been foolish — out of all reason — and that
there was nothing for me to do but just die and be
done with it — just go out and never return.

I knew it was impossible for this condition to last
much longer. It seemed that I was more illy adjust-
ed than usual, my body was a thing painfully apart
from me. I could consciously recognize myself as
two separate entities. The outer or physical was cold
with the heaviness of clay, while the soul or inner

i by Google

220 How I Know That

was light and strong, resenting the prison walls in
which it was confined.

Then I perceived Meon beside me and com-
plained :

"When this sensitiveness came upon me I was in
perfect health and strength, why have I been other-
wise since?

"A condition necessary for what had transpired
and is still to transpire."

"Tell me, please, am I to remain on earth or am
I going to die? This has become unbearable."

"It will not be required much longer," he replied,
looking at me reproachfully, but I persisted :

"But you have not answered my question."

"It will answer itself soon enough."

This disturbing unrest was still upon me when my
Beloved came in the evening and I welcomed the
diversion he offered. Opening a book he said:

"I have brought the Rubayat of Omar Khayyam
to read to you — would you like it?"

"Surely yes — it will be like old times," I assured
him as I thought almost regretfully of the mysterious
force that had come into my life touching its rifting
fingers to the perfect lute of our comradeship.

Every word of the quaint Bacchanalian philosophy
was like a return of an old friend who had been long
absent and as he read ever and anon he would lift
his eyes to mine in appreciation of my undivided at-
tention and the congeniality of our literary tastes.

When he came to this :

I sent my soul through the Invisible

Some letter of that after life to spell

And by and by my soul returned to me

And answered, "I myself am Heaven and Hell."

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 221

How forcibly the truth of it struck me I All of
life's philosophy summed up in one little sentence I
No matter what we say, what we do, or where we
go, there are means of escaping everything but just
ourselves, and from ourselves there is no escape in
this life nor the life to come, even unto the end of
the journey, therefore, it is well to make of ourselves,
our most desirable companions, for it is this com-
panionship that will outlast all things else, even
throughout all eternity.

He was quick to note my abstraction and said with
apologetic solicitude :

"I have wearied you reading so long but it seemed
so good to have you listen again."

"I am not tired. It is such a pleasure — ." I has-
tene^to assure him, but he closed the book saying :

"We will take no chances — there will be days and
days we can read together when you are well."

"You are considerate to a fault," I said, half laugh-
ing, trying to disguise my regret that the reading was
over.

After he had gone for some time the magnetism of
his presence lingered, preventing an immediate re-
turn to the despondency that the day had fastened
upon me, but it was not long before the duet of the
rain and sea made me restless again and I called into
the silence. No answering voice came. No loneli-
ness that afflicts mortals is greater than that caused
by the withdrawal of the copipanionship of the spirit
world, after one has experienced the joys of it. I
turned again to the dismal earth sounds and com-
plained that sleep, "nature's soft nurse," refused to
come while I was still within the domain of her com-
forting influence, feeling that by another night I

i by Google

222 How I Know That

would be entirely and forever removed from its ne-
cessity. As though accepting the challenge she fold-
ed me tenderly to her bosom, lifting me above the
melancholia that had so dominated my waking hours.

I was awakened by thousands of spirit voices
blending in a monotonous chant, the same thing over
and over again. With one voice they chanted one
sentence and that sentence was: "Thy will be done,
O God, not mine." Some of the voices were sweet
and low; some high and loud; some near; some came
from afar, yet there was no discord but perfect mo-
notonous harmony, if one can conceive of a thing so
rare. After listening to it for some time wondering
why they made no variation in voice or word, I tried
to shut it out and go back to sleep but I reckoned
without the chanters, who, with renewed energies put
sleep in the category of impossibilities.

After resenting it awhile I tried to harmonize my
soul with the sentiment, and to join in the spirit of
it but some way my "old self" seemed to have come
back and resentment kindled anew. I argued that my
•will is mine to use, not to make it subjective to that of
another, even though it were God's and that I would
use it just as I elected. Thus my resentment grew in
pace with the ever increasing power and persistence
of the monotonous chanting, which finally became so
nerve-racking that I felt like running out into the
street, into the rain — anywhere to escape it — as it
went on and on and on, no faster no slower, just dead
level monotony.

When it seemed I could endure it no longer, I
called Meon but as no response came I called for just
any one who would answer with the determination
of coming to some understanding, or even compro-

i by Google

. The Dead Are Alive 223

mise if necessary — anything if they would only stop
demanding that which was expected of me. Natur-
ally this attempted communication threw me more
intimately into their vibration, which almost over-
powered me with their sentiment that I should join
in the chant not only in words but in sentiment, but
I did not succumb. However, I could feel my re-
sentment wearing itself out, my arguments seemed
weak and unsustained. I was tired — utterly weary —
and I wanted them to just please hush, if only for a
moment. The clock struck two and I remember
wishing it was twelve and in fancy I almost felt the
thrill of counting twelve big, long strokes as they
hammered into the monotony. Instead the two little
strokes had come and gone and my soul was pleading
"please hush" into the very silence, which the voices
so violated.

Then in a vague dream-like way, I caught the
faintest glimpse of the mantle of "Self-Responsibil-
ity" just as I had seen it come fluttering down upon
me in the panorama of my earth lift. Suddenly I
was stabbed, as it were, with the realization that ac-
cepting this was not compulsory but was, in reality,
the greatest of all privileges being oflfered for my ac-
ceptance or rejection — the privilege of thinking with
God. I realized that by merging my will in the Uni-
versal Will its power would be my power and the
prerogative would be mine of thinking and acting in
conscious oneness with the All- Intelligence, that in-
stead of making my will subjective such a unification
would give it a dominance that it could not otherwise
attain.

I was appalled at my stupidity in resisting this
privilege and wondered how I could have been so

i by Google

224 How I Know That

blind. Yes, it was the law of Self-Responsibility in
operation. My choice had been left absolutely un-
influenced. Even now I wondered what would have
been the result had I rejected it Just to think that
while clothed in the authority of Self-Responsibility,
wrapped in my garment of flesh within the magne-
tism of earth, I had persistently resisted that which
I most ardently sought when beyond earth's confines
— conscious oneness with all power. How unworthy
X felt as I listened to the offering of the privilege of
privileges, feeling that no matter to what extent a
soul may progress, as long as it remains on earth it
is assailed by diverse influences. Finally I shook it
all off and took refuge in the joy that I had not en-
tirely succumbed and began harmonizing myself
with the prevailing sentiment, preparatory to its ac-
ceptance.

Although the dawn was bathing the room in gray
the chanters kept on and on. It was no longer dreary
monotony but the sweetest music I had ever heard.
Tears of contrition, hot and blinding, came into my
eyes as a link came down into my soul chaining me
to the Infinite, unifying my will with the Great Will,
as my soul in uplifting exultation, softened by humil-
ity, lifted up its voice in unison with the chanters in
words and sentiment; "Thy will be done, O God,
not mine."

Slowly the chanting merged into a magnificent
rendition — the most wonderful thing I have ever
heard — thousands of voices singing as only spirit
voices can to the accompaniment of the Choir invis-
ible, in which my soul joined, a living, vibrating re-
sponsive chord.

Then came silence spreading wings of peaceful

i by Google

The Dead Are AUve 225

calm over everything and although the day had come,
the fringed curtains of my eyes came down, shutting
out the light, and I passed into the unconsciousness
which is one of the most beautiful provisions in the
whole scheme of things.

i by Google

226 How I Know That

CHAPTER. XXVI.

ATOMS OF LIFE UNIFYING WITH THE
SOURCE OF LIFE.

I was awakened by the bringing of the breakfast
tray and as it sat before me a voice said :

"Eat nothing — drink nothing."

"Oh, surely that tragedy is not to be reenactedi" I
protested.

"Just for today."

Closing my eyes I sent the breakfast away saying :

"I would rather sleep," and sleep I did until a
voice came calling me into wakefulness with the in-
junction :

"Exercise today the privileget you accepted last
night."

My mind went back and reviewed all that had
happened during the night. I seemed to live it all
over again, analyzing it, repeating, "Thy will be
done, O God, not mine." I realized that it did not
mean the negation of your will or my will but the up-
lifting of our consciousness into cooperative oneness
with the Universal or God Will, of which our wills
are an individualized manifestation. This for the
reason that in the final analysis there is but one will,
to which we are as drops of water to the sea, grains of
sand to the land. Truly:

"All are parts of one stupendous whole

Whose body nature is and God the soul."

Conscious co-operation or conscious oneness with
the God Will can only be acquired by exercising and

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 227

strengthening what we recognize as our wills in an
individualized way, with the consciousness of our
unity with the God will, which will be powerful in-
dividually only according to the strength we inject
into it. First we must know we are right, on which
point the "still small voice" within will keep us ad-
vised. Then armed with the golden rule and gen-
erosity in everyday affairs, let nothing swerve us from
our real purposes.

As the day wore on I seemed to live further and
further away from the earth, so much so that its re-
quirements grated on me and human voices seemed
unnatural, loud and harsh. I therefore kept my eyes
closed that the nurse might fancy me asleep and re-
frain from speaking or disturbing me in any way.
The deadness of my body weighed heavily upon me
and I had the sensation of having something cold and
heavy wrapped around me. When my hands closed
they seemed to hold some foreign substance in them ;
even sight grew dim, so dim that objects in the spirit
world were more discernible than those in the room.
Above all was the conviction that at last the time had
come to close the book of my physical existence, not
to be reopened during the present cycle of time and
it mattered little one way or the other. I was just
drifting, trying to keep in tune with the Infinite,
bolstering myself up with the supplication "Unify
my soul with thy purpose, O God," feeling that if
this "purpose" was for me to remain on earth I
would, otherwise I would not.

Not eating caused little comment, as I promised
that while I did not feel like eating today I would
tomorrow whether I felt like it or not. "Tomorrow
— tomorrow never comes," kept reiterating itself un-

i by Google

228 How I Know That

til it seemed I had already passed over the border-
land and there was a tomorrow — the tomorrow of
death — life everlasting. Thus a kind of semi-con-
sciousness began playing its part in the drama and I
was glad when

"I saw night

Digging the grave of day
And day take off her golden crown

And flung it sorrowfully down."

Later I mechanically watched the nurse perform-
ing her little ante-slumber duties, feeling that the
same duties would not be required of her when night
came again. Then she crept into bed noiselessly and
was soon asleep and I was knocking at the door of
the Silence from which no answer came. I knew,
however, that I was not alone, as my soul felt that un-
mistakable comfort of soul companionship and I just
watted listlessly.

When I was almost weary of waiting, weary of
everything, I perceived Meon beside me and asked
eagerly :

"Oh, Meon, am I coming out tonight? I am so
weary of earth."

"Yes, come," he made answer and I almost jumped
out of my body so eager was I to escape and I soon
vibrated far out into the soft whiteness of the Space-
World, happier and more carefree than I had ever
been before.

As I vibrated onward I noted the similarity of the
vibrations to those of a moving train and asked:

"Meon, did the vibrations of that moving train
have anything to do with facilitating your first com-
munication?"

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 229

"Yes, by throwing you en rapport with these vi-
brations."

"But I was not thinking of such things," I pro-
tested.

"Which still further facilitated matters."

"I was reading, if you remember."

*'No; you were not reading — ^you were looking
over the paper with your mentality open to receive
the most unexpected intelligence, creating an ideal
condition. I spoke — you heard."

As we drifted far out, ever onward, I noted with
interest great vibrating orbs of light and remember
wondering if they were inhabited to which Meon
vouchsafed the intelligence that they were and the
desire was strong upon me to visit them. In a mo-
ment, however, this impulse was blotted out by the
beauty of the "scenery," as we vibrated onward
through the cloud mountains of space, quivering
within the electrified current as a part of it; colors
mingled and intermingled suggesting rainbows bath-
ing in a silvery sea — the silvery sea whose waves
seemed propelling us and thousands of others ever
onward toward a wonderful shore somewhere in a
wonderful world.

Almost abruptly we were upon a substantial white-
ness which I instantly recognized as "The Power
House of Existence." I realize it is a liberty on my
part to presume to name this plane of existence as it
doubtless has a name already, but as I designate it
according to its functions, it would not interfere with
its position as a numerical plane, which I am quite
sure it is, as there are a number of planes or phases
of life between it and the earth life. These planes
however, so intricately interpenetrate that it

i by Google

230 Hov> I Knotp That

would take one better versed in the matter dian I am
to intelligently dififerendate. So for convenience, we
will just call it "the Power House" and let it go at
that

Evidently we were expected, as many great spirits
were waiting to greet and welcome us, after wtiidi
th^ accompanied us into the wonderful electrified
building in which we had gone when there before.
Again I stood on the transparent floor, again felt its
pulse beating in the same way, but saw nodiing as I
looked down into the void toward earth, which was
as a closed door. I knew that my presence was not re-
quired there and passed almost hurriedly op into Ibe
apartment where I looked upon the panorama of my
earth life, where the shadow body had laid down at
my feet and the light had gcmc oat of it and disap-
peared into the whiteness ^mvcl

After mentally reviewing all that I had seen tfaeie
I became oppressed, goaded, as it were, by the desire
to go on, which became so irresistible that I looked
at Meon for explanation, saying, half apologetically:

"I want to go on."

Instead of this being a discourtesy, as I half feared,
it was received with great rejoicing and it was with
the most elaborate ceremony that I was condw^ed
into another part of what appeared to be the same
suite, idiere I was greeted by the most ethereal,
shadowy crcamres that I had yet encoontered, veri-
table spirits of spirits, wbcsc soft gentleness and lov-
ing soiicimde made dteir presence atanost painful
joy, while the very essence of soul mnsic was coming
from everywhere. In the cttiter. summnded by these
beingi was an opaline, couch-shaped dood, kissed
by amethyst and gold, and in obedience to my per-

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 231

ceptions, despite its unsubstantial appearance, I re-
clined upon it It was quite restfully reliable and
its soft magnetic embrace very pleasing. If one caa
conceive of such a thing this couch gave the impres-
sion of a cloud being held together and supported by
electricity but it was quite sufficient for my body,
which was as ethereal as my surroundings. Reclin-
ing thereupon I wish I could adequately describe my
sensations, as these wonderful creatures hovered
about me, holding me in the magic of their presence,
intensifying my desire to be like them. Then I was
conscious of a change — an inner lightness and power,
which grew into a feeling of independence of the
•hadow or spirit body, as though it were a part of the
couch rather than myself, much as I had felt about
the physical body before leaving the earth plane.

Again the great electrified current manifested it-
self, but this time with a quivering instead of vibrat-
ing, taking me unto itself so gently that it was almost
imperceptible. Souls of the superethereal realm
were calling to me, calling into a world that is as far
above the ethereal as the ethereal is above the physi-
cal and I wanted to go. Then I could feel myself
slipping, slipping over the borderland where the
realm of God kisses the realm of Christ, to remain
beyond which we must have become as Christs, as
beyond it we begin the evolution toward the Ultimate
— Godhood.

Then I was looking down upon my spirit body
much as I had done my mundane garment after leav-
ing it upon the earth plane, and into the grandeur of
it all came a voice saying: "It is the second death,"
and as I wondered at the word "death," the voice ex-
plained:

i by Google

232 How I Know Thai

"That word has no application to the soul — it ap-
plies only to its garments as they are cast aside."

There was something appealing about the little
shadow body as it lay there in all its transparent
whiteness amid its glistening environment — a strang-
er in a strange land — what would become of it? Pos-
sibly it was a gift of that plane just as the clay image
is the gift of earth. Why was Meon sitting beside it
— why had he not come with me? All this I was
asking myself when suddenly I realized that I was
a great power and began analyzing myself to see
what constituted me and found there was no me —
there was only /. Yes, I was consciously /, a greater
Ego that I had ever been, yet I was only a little light
within a misty white globe, one with and within the
great electrified current, a veritable spirit of a spirit,
a living atom of intellectual power — a power more
wonderful than even my wildest dreams ever depict-
ed. The living thing within was memory, an insig-
nificant little impediment or otherwise in the earth
life as we suppress it, or hold it fondly to our hearts
crying out in anguish, "Oh, if I could only forget —
if I could only forget." True, if we could only for-
get we would leave the judge, the jury and the exe-
cutioner this side of the Styx I Be that as it may, mem-
ory is refined and purified and lays down its every
burden before it passes into this realm, where sins,
sorrows and shadows never violate. The soul is veri-
tably stripped of every shadow, the process of which
is not always a delightful diversion as we come up
through the different strata of life from the earth to
the "Power House," therefore, it is well for us to re-
member that a burden placed on memory must go on
a very long journey, perhaps several of them, before

i by Google

The Dead Are AUve 233

the soul can free itself of it. Nothing wc can do will
keep the soul's tomorrow from coining but we can re-
frain from placing upon tomorrow burdens of to-
day. On the other hand it is possible, though rarely
attained, to so live the earth life that we can pass al-
most immediately beyond the condition tiirough
which I had just passed — the second death.

It was an exceedingly blissful condition in which I
found myself, a veritable dream of Heaven; and of
all the places I had ever visited in the worlds of
spirit this most appealed to me. I wanted to stay and
settled down with the sensation of permanency
among these souls reveling in their dreams of idealty.
Many were entering in and strangest of all some
seemed to be going back down through the "Power
House." This going back reminded me of my ex-
pressed desire in that direction and I became rest-
less, with that "going on" feeling and almost instant-
ly I was quivering upward within the electrified cur-
rent with something of a pang at leaving the wonder-
ful "residential section" that had so appealed to me.
As we ascended so refined became the uplifting pro-
cess that it was more of a perception than a move-
ment, just floating in a void of blended harmony, en-
chantingly exhilarating. Feeling that I was soon to
know the ultimate of a soul I began conjecturing as
to its beginning. A voice, or rather a mental im-
pression came softly out of the silence :

"Every soul is as young as the youngest ; every soul
is as old as the oldest; all have existed since time be-
gan." Where did the voice come from? Suddenly
I realized that that which had been to me a great
electrified current was in reality a great universal
Spirit, interpene rating everything, uniting all

ibvGooglc

234 How I Know That

realms, lifting souls erer onward on the journey of
evolution and progression — it was a living, intellec-
tual, speaking entity, the great silent emissary of all
power — the God spirit — a kind of universal thread
on which all life is strung.

I was not the only passenger within this living,
electrified elevator, whose invisible silent power was
limitless, world-embracing. There were other globe-
confined lights moving atwut blazing with luminos-
ity, with which I recognized myself as unified yet
separate, but above all was the conviction that we
would yet be one in a greater and more concrete
sense by a process yet unrevealed.

We passed through indescribable strata of space,
wonderful beyond description but did not come in
contact with any condition of life but went ever
steadily onward, the uplifting process of which had
become

"Such a tide as, moving seems asleep
Too full for sound and foam."

Then a living whiteness, a veritable white fire of
radiance was interpenetrating everything with a
neutralizing effect, giving the impression of finality
— the end. There was no sense of being overpowered
but just a merging into Infinitude as it merged into
me — as a dewdrop sinks into the sea and the sea into
the dewdrop — just a unification. I was still con-
sciously / in a most remarkable sense — I felt that /,
myself, was Infinity — a thrill inexpressible! It was
the end of the journey — coming home after the end-
less ages of reincarnations, of battling through
worlds material and ethereal, burning in the crucible
of Evolution through the Wearisome eons and cycles
of time for the Ultimate — ^wherc evolution pours her

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive ■ 235

Gods — atoms of life unifying with the source of life.

I could see the passengers, just little lights no
longer encumbered by even the misty globes, losing
themselves in the Power Radiance, becoming one
with it. Suddenly I remembered the earth and my
request to return to it but suspended as I was between
the end and the beginning of the journey, I did not
dare to hope that my desire to return to earth with a
story of a "far country" would be respected, as I had
known so many in the spirit worlds with the same
desire. Too late, we want to come back just for the
good we may do but how few ever come back across
the dark span!

Then I could feel the mantle of Infinitude with-
drawing itself, throwing me back, as it were, into the
neutralized current, rendering me as negative as I
had been a moment before positive, as a soundless
voice, a mentalized wave floated into my conscious- .
ness:

"Return thou unto earth chained to thy request."

In an instant a change was over everything. I was
quivering within the electrified current, moving out
into the Whiteness, my face toward the earth. As I
looked down I seemed to see it, to feel its magnetism.
In fancy, I seemed to hear it calling me, to feel that
it rejoiced that I was returning and a great joy was
within me that the privilege was mine and as I came
on down through the quivering, silvery whiteness,
still tuned with the Infinite, nothing seemed impos-
sible. How wonderful it all was then, but now re-
duced to the small, material capacity of pen, ink and
paper, I can only say — what havoc reality plays with
our dreams I

But I was still dreaming the wonderful dream

i by Google

236 How I Know That

when there came a gentle pause, a slowing vibration
and suspended I was looking down upon my shadow
body just where I had left it; with Meon still beside
it AH about me were those superethereal beings and
just for a moment I relaxed, giving myself up to the
restful joy of that realm that had so appealed to me
and then slipped into my spirit body so easily that I
marvelled.

At first it seemed such a thing apart that it was op-
pressive then I could feel myself giving it life and
power, renewing its life in conjunction with mine.
In a little while I arose from the couch with it as
much a part of me as it had ever been.

There was great rejoicing, as they all seemed to
know where I had been and were pleased to regard
me as a very exalted being instead of a poor mundane
creature on its way back to earth. * Some questioned
mc as to the life in the world of the Ultimate, all of
which I answered as well as I might.

"But far on the deep there are billows
That never shall break on the beach;

And I have heard songs in the Silence
That never shall float into speech

And I have had dreams in the Valley
Too lofty for language to reach."

*'Meon, did you know I was coming back?" I
asked eagerly.

"Yes."

"Is it well that I have done so?"

"That depends on yourself — it is a rare responsi-
bility as well as privilege."

My soul was caressing that thrill of Infinitude and
the wonderful privilege and possibilities that were

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive zyj

mine, as we went down and stood once again on the
transparent floor, felt that strange pulse beating sen-
sation and then were going downward, floating out
into space, accompanied by many great spirits, who
rejoiced with us, lighting up our pathway by their
self-illumination, singing in unison with the "choir
invisible." My loved ones who are in the spirit
world then joined us, all vibrating in joyous deli-
rium, until a hand closed gently on mine and the
voice of Meon was saying :

"Come," to which I quickly responded remember-
ing with compassion a fast deteriorating clay image
in the darkness on the far away earth and hastened
downward, creeping into the cold deadness of it.

i by Google

238 Ho-w I Know That

CHAPTER XXVII.

A SOUL RELINKING WITH EARTR

So unresponsive was the stiffening clay in which I
was incarcerated that I feared my long absence had
forefeitcd my dominance over it. I labored long and
earnestly with the problem of readjustoient, realizing
the impotency of the spirit in a material executive
sense without the co-operation of the body. I was so
oppressively cramped that I had to combat the desire
to just let go and return into the spirit world.

"O, Thou who hast poured the essence of thy life
Into this urn — this feeble urn of clay."

Morning found me so indifferently adjusted that
I feigned sleep until long after the breakfast hour,
as I was far from being assured that I could speak,
to say nothing of eating. When the nurse went out
of the room and I was alone I tried my voice in a
low tone, the squeaky sound of which struck me as
being exceedingly comical and I laughed most heart-
ily {noiselessly, of course). That laugh did more
toward adjusting me than one could imagine. The
blood began circulating with the sensation as of
something crawling on me, it excelled all "flesh
creeping" producers in the category of "creeping
things," for the few seconds it lasted. I squirmed in
the agony of it but when it was over I found that my
soul and body were at least on living terms and I was
much less oppressed. When the lunch hour came I
spared myself any further comment on that subject
by eating lightly, as my body had become fairly re-

i by Google

The Dead Are J live 639

sponsive and I was feeling unusually well consider-
ing everything.

As the day wore on I could not resist wandering
back to the Ultimate — the fullness of Infinitude with
which I still felt myself (uiificd, the reflected glory
of which seemed to make a reritable paradise of that
little man-made room and all that was within it
Truly the kingdom of Heaven was within me, and
I thought of the wonderful grain of truth, "I myself
am Heaven and Hell," that our beloved Omar had
planted in his quaint philosophy that we all love and
hold tenderly to our hearts yet dare not exemplify in
our lives.

When night had settled down and its shadows
were flitting about mockingly I watched and waited,
hoping against hope, the echo of the "good-bye,"
which I had heard the night before when I was leav-
ing the spirit world haunting me with a meaning that
I tried to shut out. I could not bear the thought
that my pilgrimages into the spirit realms were over.

"Meon, are you thereP" I called and called agdin
into the silence but no answer came, as tears welled
up ever and anon to burn the dry, deadened lids. I
knew I had been given back to earth but was loath to
accept it, and grew resentful because of Meon's ab-
sence, feeling that he should at least relieve my sus-
pense by telling me the truth. His absence was really
a verification of my worst apprehensions, as I knew
if he did not come I would not go, as he had gone
with me on every occasion of my going.

"One, two,*' yes, it was two o'clock and while hope
was slowly dying out I became aware of touches un-
like any I had ever felt on my face and hands to
which I paid little attention until they extended over

i by Google

240 How I Know That

my entire body which until then had been practically
insensible since the night of my first voyage upon the
mystic sea of the silence. To have sensibility return
after so long a time should have pleased but instead
I could have cried aloud in the anguish of its recog-
nized meaning. I had known the life of a spirit
— had ridden on the wings of evolution to its finality
and now to take up the burden of physical existence
again seemed an impossible thing despite the fact
that I had so ardently desired it. llie dream and
the reality I

This touching, as of fingers, continued, pressing
upon me, growing ever more vigorous. I thought of
the earth-magnetized spirits I had seen groping
about in the spirit darkness and shuddered but my
perception assured me that I had nothing to fear
from these as they were not of the submerged type
but beneficial in some indefinable way. But what
were they doing — what did they mean?

At last I perceived Meon and cried out to him :

"Meon, what is this that keeps picking on me?"

"You are in the hands of the healers and will soon
be well."

"Healers?" I echoed in astonishment, wondering
that such seemingly material methods should be re-
sorted to, and asked, "Why could that not be done
spiritually?"

"Your body has fallen out of accommodation or
co-operation with your spirit and practically become
a material substance, therefore, is being treated as
such in remagnetizing it."

"Why could not I remagnetize it with spiritual
co-operation?"

"You could if you wanted to but you do not and

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 241

there is no time to be lost where it is concerned. These
manipulations will persist until you turn your mind
to the restoration of your body, which is, for the pres-
ent, your home. The object of your indisposition is
over and there is nothing to hinder your speedy re-
covery."

"Am I never to come out again?" I wailed des-
pairingly.

As I waited listening eagerly I seemed to hear that
sentence that had so haunted me — "Weaver of thy
freedom, be faithful," following in its wake came
another, "Return thou unto earth chained to thy re-
quest," and veritable I felt chained — hopelessly
chained but after a few minutes of "kicking against
the pricks," I reasoned with and coaxed myself into
a resignation that I did not altogether feel. I reason-
ed that I had been given what I most ardently de-
sired and should be rejoicing instead of complaining,
wondering at my own inconsistency. Thus began the
relinking of a soul with a body from which it had
been released in the pursuit of the brand of knowl-
edge that St. Mark doubtless meant when he said,
"There is nothing hid that shall not be manifested."

As the days went on the "healers" worked with ad-
mirable persistence and I could feel myself growing
stronger and stronger, until I could recognize my
body as a part of myself just as it had been before
the separation came, "even as you and I" — ^just as
any of us feel, for which I was smnetimes glad —
sometimes sorrowful, for it was not easy to tear one-
self away from the lure of the "other side," so beau-
tifully different. Yet the spirit world has its obli-
gations and lessons just as the earth life and we can
never get so far nor become so highly evolved that we

i by Google

242 How / Know That

do not recognize the earth life as the greatest oppor-
tunity of the soul and should use it accordingly in-
stead of abusing it, as we too often do.

Earth naturally exacts its obligations, its toll^ just
as any plane does. At the same time we must con-
sider its beautiful gifts, privileges and opportunities
— all ours for the taking. It gives of itself a body in
which to clothe our spirit, which body it maintains
by the products of its industry. By the strong arm of
its gravitation it holds us in safety to itself. We use
its gifts of clay to do our bidding and according to
such servitude our spirits progress and grow in
strength, usefulness and helpfulness, and, finally,
when it has served our purposes we give it back with-
out even a feeling of thankfulness or realization of
the wonderful opportunities it has afforded our spir-
its. Even where the spirit becomes the servant and
the clay the master, earth is not to blame but rather
the weakness of the spirit to be pitied. When earth
life is lived in accordance with the laws and privi-
leges governing it, other phases of life follow auto-
matically and with as little friction as day follows
night

To strengthen us, to force us into the mastery, earth
permits us to burn in the caldrons of her temptations,
to fall over her precipices, always recognizing;

"Great souls must burn in sorrow's furnace heat i
Ere fully fitted life's great work to meet"

Earth life is one of the strongest links in the great
co-operative chain of evolution, and in the light of
geological teachings and sunnises, et cetera, who can
say that our dear old mother earth is not, herself,

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 243

some great soul ploughing the heavy sea of evolution
toward — what?

So rapid was my improvement that within a few
days I went, accompanied by my fiance and the nurse,
for a drive on the beach. How vividly I recall every
incident — someway it stands out alone — different
from all other outings. I was lifted down the stairs
and into the yard where the sunshine touched me for
the first time in many long weeks — its heat
was consuming. I went slowly, leaning heavily, my
limbs so long unaccustomed to duty threatening to
collapse at every step. When I sat down in the car
it was like falling through space and ending in a
crumpled heap, so completely did relaxation follow
the exertion.

How strange everything seemed as we went speed-
ing out over the cityl Houses, conveyances and
people seemed so unreal that I realized I had been
living in the spirit so long that the physical had be-
come the unreal and the spirit the real. I could see
the spirits more plainly than I could the human be-
ings. As my acquaintances expressed their pleasure
at my convalescence and chatted of the commonplaces
their voices grated on me, so unreal and harsh com-
pared with the soft vibrating voices of the space
world, which are as soft as the silence and as caresf-
ing as love.

Gradually this sense of unreality passed away.
When we reached the Boulevard on the seawall level,
high above the sea, I looked out over the broad
expanse, where the gold of the setting sun kissed the
blue of the sea. My old love for the sea welled up
anew in my heart as I thought that all the beauty was
not reserved for the worlds beyond ours. Watching

i by Google

244 How I Know That

the smoke of an outgoing steamer, far out beyond
the bar, and another ploughing heavily, coming in,
I was struck with the realization that on earth, just
as on other planes, life is very much a matter of com-
ing and going — not so different after all.

This drive having no ontoward results paved the
way for a duplication every afternoon and a very
long one on Sunday — to the very end of the island.
After our return I could not disguise from myself
that I was very tired, which being patent to every one
was accepted as a natural consequence of the unusual
exertion.

There was one sentence that struck me forcibly, yet
without any special meaning or conviction but I have
recalled it often since. Just as we drove upon the
sea wall facing the sua a voice cried out:

"Look into the face of the Sun and you look into
the face of God."

It was not, however, until I was alone that I rea-
lized how very tired I was and lay down without re-
moving my clothes. Instead of resting there came
upon mc the pervereity of unrest, rendering re-
laxation impossible as I tossed and sighed in the dis-
tress of it Then Meon stood beside me and I im-
plored him :

"Oh, Meon, I am so tired I cannot rest here — do
let me come out and float about in cool comfortable
space and I will feel so different — please."

"Rest where you are," came with gentle firmness,
as a sense of finality pressed upon me — the full reali-
zation that I had been given back to earth unreserv-
edly, to which I would have protested perhaps but
there was a pain, the very essence of pain, as of some-
thing being withdrawn from my right side just below

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 245

the ribs in the identical spot where I had felt the
thrust or impact the first night my soul was released
and I went over the borderland. This excruciating
pain — and it was the most acute I ever remember in
all my life — spread over my entire body interpene-
trating it, enveloping it, with an agony beyond en-
durance, then gradually subsided, leaving only a
soreness centralized in a small area in the side. After
it subsided and I relaxed from the agony of it, there
was upon me the sense of my soul and body having
been locked together again — made one — an atom of
infinitude and an image of clay. Following this al-
most immediately was severe internal bleeding, the
blood of which was dark, clotted and stagnant in ap-
pearance, which forced me to remain for days with
ice bottles on the affected side, keeping it in a frozen
condition. Here is where the doctor and the nurse
exercised their prerogative relentlessly, enforcing an
invalidism that tried my patience to the utmost. Nor
did the "healers" grow weary of "well doing" — they
persisted until I was in such a condition of physical
supersensitiveness that anything touching my skin
distressed it — especially those ice bottles. During
these trying days the invisible forces did not desert
me but instead hovered about with loving solicitude
telling beautiful stories (and otherwise) of other
worlds and their experiences therein.

Of all the unreal things in this tangled web of un-
reality, this connecting link, in a physical way, be-
tween the release of my soul from the body and its
final return, days later, is the most unreal — the most
inexplicable. I even hesitate to embody it but as it
is as much a link in this chain of mystery as any of
the other incidents, I feel inclined to so respect it..-

i by Google

246 How I Knots That

Then came a day, a beautiful summer's day, when
I pulled myself away from the shadows of other
worlds and took my place in the world of human af-
fairs where I had left off more than two months be-
fore, a consciously reincarnated being — the same and
yet how different I

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 247

CHAPTER XXVIII.
AS THE TODAYS BECAME YESTERDAYS.

As people congratulated me on my return from the
"valley of the shadow," I wondered what they would
think if they knew just how far beyond the "valley"
I had penetrated, and at times smiled bitterly as I
realized with what incredulity such a statement
would be received.

This, however, did not alter my resolve to write
and I began to wonder just how much had already
been written on the subject and what information was
available. This I determined to ascertain and avail
myself of the reading thereof, feeling that if some
one else had written frankly on such a subject it
might lessen the full burden of criticism that I felt
would descend on me for daring to stray so far from
the "calf paths" made by the few minds who "belled"
themselves for the herd to follow. Meon silenced all
further conjecmre by interrupting emphatically:

"Read no line on this subject until you have writ-
ten — then you will be free to read as you will."

"Why?" I asked in surprise, wondering what dif-
ference it could make, feeling assured that it could
in no way affect me.

"Writings are always clothed in the personality of
the writer and errors of personality often uncon-
sciously intrude themselves upon truth. The truths
that have been given to you will tax your personality
to the very utmost without seeking the errors of
others that are already clad."

While I resented this, in a way, I have abided by

i by Google

248 . How I Know That

it conscientiously and refrained from taking up any
phase of the subject. Otherwise, possibly I would
never have written as I have — taking, as it were, a
naked truth and clothing it in words that fit in some
places and misfit glaringly in others. However, the
clothing of the ethereal in material form is rather
a delicate process, the superlativeness of which only
experience can demonstrate, as the ethereal must
come down to the material — the material cannot be
lifted up to it.

As I grew stronger the invisible forces did not
withdraw their interest but watched over me even
more eagerly, permitting me to feel the pleasure of
their solicitude, which did much to promote the
restoration of my health and by the end of August
I was practically well, despite a peculiar all-over
weakness which spirit communication imposed upon
me at times.

Then my fiance became my husband, and the great
wedding that was to have been, was conspicuous by
its simplicity. A traveling dress of champagne-col-
ored messaline made rather a pretty substitute for
the magnificent pearl-bedecked creation that had
so injected itself into that weird drama of the
shadows.

I was physically unequal to the Oriental tour we
had planned and after remaining in New Orleans a
few days stress of business called my husband back
to Galveston, where we remained only a short time
before launching our ship of business in other waters,
where the tides of more than two years have ebbed
and flowed with my resolution to write riding on the
uncertain wave of "someday," with the sunshine of
love blinding me to the universal law of duty.

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 249

"Yes, I will write it all some day," I would assure
my accusing conscience (that "still small voice"
within), while I "gloried and drank deep" at the
Court of Procrastination, wearing the crown of Love,
studded with jewels of contentment, while the days
with their wonderful opportunities passed unheeded
into the file of yesterdays.

As I grew stronger I half feared my ability to com-
municate with the world invisible would abate ac-
cordingly but that rare privilege is still mine and my
health was never so splendid in all my life. How-
ever, it is a prerogative I rarely exercise but that it
is mine to use when I elect lends a significance to life
that nothing can take away and nothing else can give.
Be that as it may, on the whole that experience is one
I would not care to duplicate, nor obliterate, as dur-
ing those days I lived consciously and intelligently in
two worlds, as much in one as in the other, in neither
and yet in both, drinking to the dregs the cup of
agony as well as joy.

It was at night when all the world was sleeping
and "silence, that dreadful bell" was ringing som-
brely that Meon and the great spirits would come
and chide me with their mute reproaches. Respect-
ing the law of self-responsibility they would not
speak but my soul would cry out self-condemned in
the agony of the unredeemed promise that I had laid
upon it while in the world of shadows and I would
renew my assurances, but when daylight came every-
thing seemed so diflfcrent that I just drifted with the
difference — assuring myself that the world was not
ready for such knowledge. And then there was my
husband's attitude on the subject!

i by Google

250 How I Know That

Finally the ghost of that unexecuted promise to
which my soul seemed veritably chained, began
haunting me both day and night, taking all the joy
out of life, filling me with an unrest that nothing
could dissipate, and my mind was ever reverting re-
sponsivcly to Schiller's abjuration : "Why hast thou
cast me thus into the town of the ever-blind to pro-
claim thine oracle with the opened sense? Take back
this clear-sightedness ; take from, mine eyes this cruel
light I Give me back my blindness — the happy dark-
ness of my senses; take back thy dreadful gifti"

Then came a spring night, cool with a touch of
winter in it, the wind howled dismally and I tossed
in the anguish of "murdered sleep." I could see the
light burning in my husband's room and knew that
he, too, was restless and reading, as is his custom
when he cannot sleep. We had come in late from
a box party at the theatre and I was miserably tired
and sleepy but this did not matter to the invisibles
who waited to administer their mute reproaches,
which seemed more unbearable than ever before. I
tried to shut them out with the same old promises,
which they heeded not but just waited — waited in
the stillness of the night as I lay in the torture of
sleepless self-condemnation.

Then from afar came soft strains of the "choir in-
visible," and upon me was the awareness of little
electric shocks. How well I remember them ! Yes,
there was the great electrified current coming down
upon me, touching me, gathering me unto itself, just
as it had done before. The horror seized me that it
was death that had come, that I had forfeited the
opportunity so ardently sought and my soul was cry-

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 251

ing out with the renewal of the promise it meant to
redeem regardless of all things — everything.

No spirit word was spoken — no sound broke the
awesome stillness — I could feel myself clasped with-
in the vibrations of the great electrified current mov-
ing upward, going up bodily just as I had once be-
fore; I could feel the covers slipping away as they
fell back on the bed, hear the bells of my little dog's
collar jingle as he hurried about excitedly, a be-
numbing cold permeating everything. I was vi-
brating slowly upward, up, up. One hand was rest-
ing on my breast, the other hanging limply down,
eyes closed, and a hopeless resignation pressing heav-
ily upon me. Then came a pause and I apprehen-
sively opened my eyes to behold a wondrous change.
1 was staring into a white-canvas-like mist fringed
by a nebulosity in which variegated colors played,
the blue of electricity predominating. As in a mov-
ing picture I saw mjrself on the train with Meon be-
side me, just as on that May morning which seemed
so long ago. Following this was a panorama of
every incident in the weird, shadowy drama in which
Fate had sent me far wandering into the realm whose
door is death. As I viewed it thus condensed, I rea-
lized more forcibly than ever the intricately inti-
mate relationship of the realms, visible and invisible,
each a continuation of the other, each interpenetrat-
ing and all interpenetrated by that great electrified
current, making "one stupendous whole." When the
wonderful moving scene, which so enthralled me,
came to the relinking of the soul with earth I could
feel myself being lowered, vibrating downward, my
eyes fastened on the slowly fading scene until the

i by Google

252 How I Know That

clouds broke into rolling confusion and there came
into the shadowy mist, in letters of gold, these words :

"'Twas not given for you alone
Pass it on; Pass it on."

The End.

Since writing the foregoing I have come to the
conclusion that Agassiz was not very far wrong when
he said :

"Every great scientific truth goes through three
stages. First people say it conflicts with the Bible.
Next they say it has been discovered before. Lastly
they say they have always believed it."

For the convenience of those who may be thus in-
fluenced I submit the following Bible references cov-
ering different phases of spirit manifestation;

INDEPENDENT SPIRIT VOICES.
Hattbew, iii, i6, i? Matthew, ivii, s John, xii, 28, 39, 30

Eiekiel, 1, 28 Mark, ix, 7 I Sam., iii, 3, g

Acts, jci, 7, 8, 9 Deut,, ix, 12, 13 Acts, ix, 4-7

Job, iv, 1-6

SPIRIT LEVITATION.
II Kings, ii, 9, 10, II I Kings, xviii, 13 Ezekiel, viii, 3

AcU, viii, 39 Ezekiel, iii, 12, 13, 14

SPIRIT COMMUNICATIONS IN DREAMS.
Job, xxxiii, IS Joel, ii, 28 Genesis, xxxi. 11

Genesis, xxxvii, 5 Genesis, xxviii, 12

SPIRIT CONTROL OR INFLUENCE.

Nmnbera, xxiv, <
Daniel, x, 9
Acts, X, 10, II

Acts, ix, 3, 9
Genesis, xv, 12, I?
Acts, xxii, 17

MATERIALIZATION.

MaKhew, xvii, i, 9 Job, iv, is Ezekiel, ii, 9

Genesis, xviii, i Exodus, xxiv, 10, 11 Mark, ix. 4

Lnke, xxiv, 15, 16, 39, John, xx, 19, 20 Genesis, iii, S

30, 31 Genesis, xxxii, 24 Daniel, v, 5

i by Google

The Dead Are Alive 253

II Chron., nd, 13 Exodus, jucxiv, i
Exodus, xxxii, i6 Exodus, xxiv, 12

Daniel, v, 5 Duet., v, 22

Matt, xxvii, 51, Sa. S3 Judges, vi, 36, 40 I Sam,, t, 10, 11, 17,

Genesis, xxiv, 14, 19 I Sam., x, 2, 10 26, 37, 38

Job, hr, 15, ifi, 17

Also I find many who are influenced by what
others think, and grade the subject accordingly. Such
persons may be as much surprised as I was to find
that a very long list of our foremost writers, teachers,
thinkers, scientists and philosophers (past and pres-
ent) are not only liberal where spirit phenomena is
concerned but have written openly admitting that
there is something in it, notable among whom are
two of the world's greatest scientists, Sir Oliver
LfOdge and Sir William Crookcs,

i by Google

,Google

D,B,i,.db.Google

ibyGoogle

,Google

ibyGoogle

i

ib.Google

ibyGoogle