THE CELEBRATION.
President Miguel Lehumada was entering upon the third year of his second
term as President of the United States of America.
All of the prophecies of the seer, Julio Murillo, had been fulfilled to
the letter. The nation clamored for him to be placed at the head of the
“National School for Scientific Development,” but he preferred to remain
in the home of President Lehumada and carry on his scientific
investigations quietly and alone, save for the companionship of a few
whom he knew to be earnest in their investigations and of an harmonious
temperament to him.
The President and his wife were of the greatest assistance to him, and
while the President was ever busy with the affairs of the nation, and
his wife with her social and domestic duties, they both found time to
attend to the development of their spiritual life, and they never
wearied practicing their beliefs, and thereby showing others the
beauties a knowledge of the only _real life_ gave them. Señor Julio
lectured once a month to the school, and the President and his wife
never failed to be present.
The petition presented by President Lehumada, when he was Governor of
Chihuahua, to the United States Congress, asking that all priests and
female members of different orders of the Church be granted the
privilege of marrying without the consent of the Pope, and that both
priests and pastors become less like parasites upon the community, had
become a law, and the effect of it was already felt by the people.
And many men too lazy to earn an honest living, and who claimed to have
been called to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ, turned their attention
to something else, when they learned that if they had no means they
would be compelled to engage in some honorable work to help support
themselves, while trying to convert people to a religion which they
claim to be called to preach, and help those whom they sought to teach,
instead of being a burden upon them.
Since the petition became a law, quite six years ago, it was shown by
statistics that the number of fine buildings called churches, which had
been built every year previous to the passage of the law, had diminished
more than one-half, and on the other hand, the number of homes built and
well furnished by the poor, had been on the increase each year since
that time.
There seemed to be less immorality than formerly; for each person who
had no visible means of support was given employment, if he were able to
work; if not, such persons were cared for by the State. However, there
were very few people who were disabled for work by chronic diseases.
“Memory Fluid” had become a powerful germ killer, and wherever it had
been used, the person using it had completely recovered from the disease
which had disabled him.
The use of it was, however, not compulsory; and a great many people
objected to taking it, preferring to suffer than to know of a past
existence, if they had any.
In cases other than these, no one was incapacitated for labor unless he
was severely crippled.
Many of the formerly so-called mysteries of life, were no longer
mysteries to the great body of thinking people, to those who had been
_subjects_, and delvers in spiritual philosophy at the “School for
Hidden Thought,” at Saltillo, since their awakening.
Many students at the “National School for Scientific Development” knew
the law, and continued to live their lives upon the highest plane
possible, and their efforts were rewarded.
Juan, the former trusty servant of Governor Lehumada, and the worldly
Mrs. Serrano, both had become valuable assistants in the diffusion of
the spiritual philosophy. Juan occupied the same position in the private
laboratory of the Governor of Chihuahua, Guillermo Gonzales, as Julio
Murillo, the great seer and constant associate and adviser of President
Lehumada, did when he first entered the employment of the then Governor,
Miguel Lehumada, of Chihuahua.
Mrs. Serrano occupied the position she formerly did, that of
housekeeper, with the exception that she had added to her name, the name
of Degatau; in other words, she had become the wife of Juan Degatau.
They were happy in their new life, yet both realized that many
existences on earth would have to be experienced by them before they
could have the harmonious conditions necessary for the highest knowledge
of Law. They did their duty from day to day, as they understood it, and
grew stronger in the knowledge of truth by so doing. Strict surveillance
was for a long time kept over the revolutionists, after they abandoned
their evil designs upon the government to all outward appearances. At
the same time, from the day they surrendered, which was on the first
inaugural day of President Lehumada, they were permitted to return to
their homes and continue their usual avocation unmolested. Of the large
number who had no employment and no means of support, the government
gave them work for which they were well paid; at the same time, the
government saw that the work was well done, at the proper time. No one
realized better than the famous author of “Liquid from the Sun’s Rays,”
and the great seer, Julio Murillo, that “an idle brain is the devil’s
worship”—to use the language frequently heard on all sides in the
nineteenth century—and suitable employment was given to everybody who
could not procure it themselves.
There were very few people, even amongst the uninitiated, who were given
to shrugging their shoulders at people whose calling on earth was very
lowly, and had not sufficient money to live in the same style that they
did. For they never knew who of them had taken “Memory Fluid,” or
belonged to the great society of the initiated.
The O’Sullivans and O’Rileys, who now sped around in their gilded
vehicles, were the descendants of Pat and Tim, who run the joints around
the corner in an early day; and of Mary McPherson and Susan O’Hallihan,
both of whom did the scrubbing at the big folks’ houses. These people,
before the discovery of “Memory Fluid,” boasted of their social position
and inherited wealth; for they never dreamed that anyone knew or would
ever know that Pat and Tim killed a man for his money in their “joint,”
one night. Since the trial of the “Plunger from Kansas,” they had
changed so much that strangers even noticed it.
One’s social position is rated by the knowledge he has of the Great
Cause and his desire to learn spiritual truths.
Money no one scorns, but it is only considered as the medium by which
commerce is carried on; the means by which the necessities of life can
be obtained the most independently. The sustaining of self in the
highest manner possible is the doctrine the teachers of the occult
inculcate. To be true to self, and never a burden on anyone else, was
the first great lesson. A lesson which none but the initiated could
understand.
“The beauties which emanate from the Great Cause are so numerous, and so
plainly demonstrate the great ‘World without end,’ that physical man, in
his present state of grossness, would not be able to get more than a
peep into the real life during the present existence,” Julio Murillo,
the great seer, often said to those seeking admittance into the
“National School for Scientific Development,” when they wished to be
placed in touch with the Hidden immediately, “Take ‘Memory Fluid.’”
All such persons were first advised to take “Memory Fluid,” after which
there would be some hopes for them.
Preparations were begun for the celebration of the discovery of “Liquid
from the Sun’s Rays,” and the entire nation had been invited to take
part, by the promulgators of the “Schools for the Study of the Occult,”
and others devoted to scientific researches in general. It was to be a
great event, and every one looked forward to it with great pleasure.
Not since the marriage day of the President, now seven years past, had
the public ever been treated to a serenade like the one given that day
by the spirit friends of the Governor of Chihuahua, and his bride. And
many hoped the same music would come again; yet the possibility of
hearing it was not held out as an inducement to secure a large
attendance.
The great auditorium, connected with the grand Museum at Washington,
built under the supervision of President Lehumada, his wife, and the
well-known seer, Julio Murillo, had a seating capacity of fifty thousand
people, with acoustics, heating, lighting, cooling and ventilating
facilities unsurpassed.
While there were more people from a distance, in Washington, who had
come to attend the celebration, it was hoped that everyone who desired
would have the opportunity of being present at one or more of the
lectures, to be delivered during the three days of celebration.
Francisco de Urdiñola, president of the “School for Hidden Thought,” of
Saltillo; Guillermo Gonzales, Governor of Chihuahua; Juan and his wife;
and “The Plunger from Kansas,” were conspicuous figures at the national
capital. The Plunger was as young in appearance as ever, but he had less
money than formerly, to spend on such occasions as the present one,
where it had been his delight to make everyone wonder at the freedom
with which he spent large sums of money.
He wore the first new suit of clothes he had bought since the conclusion
of his famous trial. Yet the money he had taken by stealth in the life
long since passed, was not paid in full. He was working to fulfill his
promise to lift that burden he had helped to place upon himself in his
present existence, for he well knew that if he failed to pay the debt
now, he would be compelled to do so in a life to come.
One of his objects in coming to Washington was to try to secure
employment at higher wages than he was able to get in Chihuahua.
“What do you wish to do?” asked a newspaper correspondent, who was
interviewing the Plunger on the street.
“Oh, it does not matter what I do; but it is the price I get, about
which I am concerned. I mean, of course, it does not matter what I do,
so long as I am engaged in an honest business,” replied the Plunger.
“Then you do not care to make another ‘plunge’ on someone’s else money,
in order to make a stake?” asked the reporter, with a meaning smile.
“Well, hardly; the taste I had of that in the year of our Lord eighteen
hundred and ninety-eight, as the makers of the chronicle said then, has
not left me yet. No son, no more plunging for me. Remorse of conscience
is the greatest punishment one can have. Take the advice of a man who
_remembers_, son, and never engage in dishonest transactions. There will
come a day, as sure as fate, when you will have to repair the wrongs you
have committed, if you do,” was the fatherly advice of the Plunger.
The reporter stood quietly by for a few moments, no doubt revolving in
his mind the many exaggerated stories he had written about different
people, and wondering if he would, in a life to come, be compelled to
retract all he had said.
The Plunger noticed his thoughtful attitude, and said: “When you take
‘Memory Fluid,’ you will ponder more seriously than you do now. Come,
help a fellow if you can. I want to get this burden of debt off my
shoulders.”
“It was on that subject I was studying, my friend. I know a man who
wants a head gardener; wages, one hundred dollars a month and board,”
replied the reporter.
“I hope I can get the job,” said the Plunger, as the two walked on arm
in arm.
“We will see about it at once, then go to the auditorium to hear the
discourses upon the great scientific subjects. Ah, and I must have you
in the description of this great celebration. What a lucky fellow I am
to have fallen in with you this morning. I will be promoted to city
editor on account of getting the first interview with you,” said the
reporter, delighted over the prospects.
“If I get the job you mention,” replied the Plunger, “no one else can
have an interview with me.”
On seeing a man coming toward them, the reporter became very excited,
and exclaimed: “There is Judge Barrow now! I am in luck again. He is the
man who wants a gardener.”
At that moment Judge Barrow met them. He seemed to be very much in a
hurry and when the reporter spoke to him, he said, hurriedly: “No
interview this morning, Tom. Nothing new.”
“But, Judge, one moment. You want a gardener, do you not?” exclaimed the
reporter, hurrying after him.
“Yes,” said the judge, turning around.
“Well, I have just the man here for you,” said the reporter, delighted
at his success so far.
“What experience has the man had?” asked the judge.
“Oh, he has had none; he is the ‘Plunger from Kansas’!”
“The what? The ‘Plunger from Kansas’!” exclaimed Judge Barrow, eying him
closely.
“That’s my title, Judge. I have had no experience; for since I made the
memorable plunge, I have lived the life of a gentleman through the
biggest part of three existences, but since I had to whack up, I have
been dead-broke, and am still in debt. I will get out of debt in this
life, if I am given a chance.”
“Ah, you are a noble young fellow. You can have the job, at one hundred
and fifty dollars a month, and board. Show up in the morning, young man.
It is a great thing for me to have such a noted person for my gardener,”
concluded the judge, as he left the two men spellbound.
“After all, I am not having such a bad time. It is not so bad to repent,
after all,” said the Plunger.
“Nor to have been a _subject_,” added the reporter. “Who are the people
coming toward us; they seem to recognize you. Are they some of your
friends in a life gone by?” asked the reporter.
“Yes, and no,” seriously said the Plunger. “The man, however queer it
may sound to you, was once my son. In this life, no; and the woman upon
whose arm he is clinging is his wife.”
“How strange! The man is much older than you. This is an age of marvels,
and when I stop to consider, I am at sea without a pilot, or in a
wilderness without a guide,” commented the reporter.
At that moment Mr. and Mrs. Degatau came up, smiling, no doubt, at
seeing on the street of a big, strange city, a familiar face.
Juan Degatau held his hand out to the Plunger, and said: “Papa, I am
glad to see you. This celebration could have not have been much of a
success, had you stayed away.”
“That I had no thought of doing. I have a twofold purpose in being here,
however,” replied the Plunger.
“Yes?” said Mrs. Degatau, without further question.
“Ah, what a crowd of distinguished looking people. I must get out
amongst them and see if I cannot get items for to-morrow’s paper, which
_The Hidden_ does not contain,” said the reporter, moving away uneasily.
“That you cannot do,” said Juan; “for if the seer sees fit to report to
_The Hidden_, the most powerful daily paper in the world, the trivial
affairs you are collecting this morning, your paper will fall short of
being anything but second-class.”
“Now, _son_,” said the Plunger, his tone betraying the satire he
evidently tried to conceal, “don’t be so hard on Tom. He is doing the
best he knows how. What were your thoughts before you _remembered_? Tom
has done for me this morning, more than my son (and he has been a
_subject_) ever offered to do for me.”
“The reporter, no doubt, was born to a higher plane in his first
existence, than your son,” curtly replied Juan, “and that accounts for
his natural kindness of heart. The curse of having to live through three
existences in punishment, on account of the house in which one lived his
first existence being so full of sin, did not fall to his lot. Good
morning, gentlemen, good morning; my wife and I are going to the
auditorium. If we tarry longer, we will not get in. I wish you and Tom,
Papa, much luck.” Juan bowed very low, and together with his wife,
walked very rapidly toward the auditorium.
The third and last evening of the great celebration, in honor of the
seventh anniversary of the marriage of the President of the United
States, Miguel Lehumada, and Helen Hinckley, was at hand.
Sharply at eight o’clock, the house already filled to its utmost for an
hour or more, arose at a signal given by the master of ceremonies, to
witness the arrival of the President, his wife, and their beautiful
twins, a boy and a girl six years old, moving through the air. When they
took the seats assigned for them on the rostrum, the audience sat down.
After the President’s address of welcome, there was an eloquent
discourse by the great seer, Julio Murillo, upon the “Divine in Man,” in
which he spoke of the discovery of “Memory Fluid,” the great destroyer
of germs, without any but good effects upon the physical, making man in
his physical state cognizant of all his past, and creating in him a
desire for a knowledge of the Great Cause.
At the close of his remarkable address, he spoke of the strange effect
of Ebony Fluid upon animal matter, after the spirit had taken its
flight. A screen was removed from the side of the rostrum, which
disclosed to view the ebonized bodies of Francisco R. Cantu, Father
Hernandez, Rev. J. T. Note, Marriet Motuble, and last, of the little
child, Catalina Martinet.
These bodies had been in the National Museum for some months, but had
never been unveiled for inspection. The history of all the persons,
whose bodies, black as midnight and as hard as flint, stood before them,
was familiar to everybody, and were objects of very great interest in
consequence.
The two children of the President ran from one ebonized body to the
other, while Julio Murillo explained which had been occupied
respectively by the five persons who had made many pages of history teem
with interest.
The little girl was a beautiful brown-eyed child, retiring and quiet and
a very striking likeness of the President.
The boy, much taller than the girl, was aggressive, and quite the
contrast of his sister Helen. His hair was light brown and curly, and
his eyes were blue. _Little_ Miguey, as he was called, after his famous
father, was strikingly unlike either of his parents.
His great talent for music had been cultivated by the best masters, and
at the tender age of six years he could handle skillfully any musical
instrument; but his fondness for the horn was shown by the masterly way
in which he played upon it.
The committee in charge of the music for the celebration secured the
consent of the President and his wife to allow their talented son to
play the horn in the last musical number on the program, for the last
evening of the celebration. It would be his first appearance in public,
yet the fact gave him no concern.
The large horn used by the child hung on a rack on the rostrum, and was
an object of much interest, as well as the ebony figures.
Julio Murillo concluded his talk upon the subject of ebony bodies, by
saying: “The souls which once occupied these bodies, are here in spirit,
and with others whom we knew in a life gone by, will now appear before
us, and we will have music from the spirit choir.”
The stillness in the room was appalling to those who did not know, to
the uninitiated, until the music began.
At first the Spirit Choir was invisible; but as the music grew in power,
first one, then another could be seen surrounding the President’s
family, until all who were taking part were seen. After the conclusion
of their music, Mrs. Lehumada arose to thank them, and when she had
expressed her thanks for their music and for the pleasure she had at
seeing them, she concluded: “There is but one thing concerning this
celebration which makes me sad, and that is, dear spirit friends, that
you did not bring a little child I once loved dearly, Catalina Martinet;
and another, a lady whom I grew to wish for after she passed to spirit
land—she of whom I speak was called Marriet Motuble. And her music on
the horn in spirit was only to be heard once, to be wished for again.”
“Dear Mamma,” cried little Helen, “do you not know that it is I, who was
Catalina whom you loved? I came back to you and my dear papa—that is
Catalina’s ebonized body. I live again.”
The President clasped the child in his arms, and the audience went wild
with delight.
Little Miguey took his big horn from off the rack, and stepping to the
front, said: “And it was I, dear Mamma, who was Marriet Motuble—and you
shall hear my music.”
The crowd arose in amazement, and while the strange child played
divinely upon the big horn, the spirit band disappeared.
And when the child laid his horn up, his mother arose, and clasping him
in her arms, said: “After all, there are, even to the initiated, many
things which cannot be explained.”
And there was heard throughout the great auditorium the musical murmur
of “Amen.”
_Saltillo, Mexico, Wednesday, September 12, 1899, 12 o’clock_ A. M.
THE END.
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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
1. P. 198, changed “Well, well, _omego_, you are a loyal servant.” to
“Well, well, _amigo_, you are a loyal servant.”
2. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in
spelling.
3. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed.
4. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.