"QUI BONO?"
My friends have so often asked me this question, that I think, before I
close this book, I am justified in answering it, at all events, as far
as I myself am concerned. How often have I sat, surrounded by an
interested audience, who knew me too well to think me either a lunatic
or a liar; and after I have told them some of the most marvellous and
thrilling of my experiences, they have assailed me with these questions,
"But what _is_ it? And what _good_ does it do? _What is it?_" There, my
friends, I confess you stagger me! I can no more tell you what it is
than I can tell you what _you_ are or what _I_ am. We know that, like
Topsy, we "grew." We know that, given certain conditions and favorable
accessories, a child comes into this world, and a seed sprouts through
the dark earth and becomes a flower; but though we know the cause and
see the effect, the greatest man of science, or the greatest botanist,
cannot tell you how the child is made, nor how the plant grows. Neither
can I (or any one) tell you _what_ the power is that enables a spirit to
make itself apparent. I can only say that it can do so, and refer you to
the Creator of you and me and the entire universe. The commonest things
the earth produces are all miracles, from the growing of a mustard seed
to the expansion of a human brain. What is more wonderful than the
hatching of an egg? You see it done every day. It has become so common
that you regard it as an event of no consequence. You know the exact
number of days the bird must sit to produce a live chicken with all its
functions ready for nature's use, but you see nothing wonderful in it.
All birds can do the same, and you would not waste your time in
speculating on the wondrous effect of heat upon a liquid substance which
turns to bone and blood and flesh and feathers.
If you were as familiar with the reappearance of those who have gone
before as you are with chickens, you would see nothing supernatural in
their manifesting themselves to you, and nothing more miraculous than in
the birth of a child or the hatching of an egg. Why should it be? Who
has fixed the abode of the spirit after death? Who can say where it
dwells, or that it is not permitted to return to this world, perhaps to
live in it altogether? Still, however the Almighty sends them, the fact
remains that they come, and that thousands can testify to the fact. As
to the theory advanced by some people that they are devils, sent to lure
us to our destruction, that is an insult to the wisdom or mercy of an
Omnipotent Creator. They cannot come except by His permission, just as
He sends children to some people and withholds them from others. And the
conversation of most of those that I have talked with is all on the side
of religion, prayer, and self-sacrifice. _My_ friends, at all events,
have never denied the existence of a God or a Saviour. They have, on the
contrary (and especially "Florence"), been very quick to rebuke me for
anything I may have done that was wrong, for neglect of prayer and
church-going, for speaking evil of my neighbors, or any other fault.
They have continually inculcated the doctrine that religion consists in
unselfish love to our fellow-creatures, and in devotion to God. I do not
deny that there are frivolous and occasionally wicked spirits about us.
Is it to be wondered at? For one spirit that leaves this world
calculated to do good to his fellow-creatures, a hundred leave it who
will do him harm. That is really the reason that the Church discourages
Spiritualism. She does not disbelieve in it. She knows it to be true;
but she also knows it to be dangerous. Since like attracts like, the
numbers of thoughtless spirits who still dwell on earth would naturally
attract the numbers of thoughtless spirits who have left it, and their
influence is best dispensed with. Talk of devils. I have known many more
devils in the flesh than out of it, and could name a number of
acquaintances who, when once passed out of this world, I should
steadfastly refuse to have any communication with. I have no doubt
myself whatever as to _what_ it is, or that I have seen my dear friends
and children as I knew them upon earth. But _how_ they come or _where_
they go, I must wait until I join them to ascertain, even if I shall do
it then.
The second question, however, I can more easily deal with, _What good is
it?_ The only wonder to me is that people who are not stone-blind to
what is going on in this world can put such a question. What good is it
to have one's faith in Immortality and another life confirmed in an age
of freethought, scepticism and utter callousness? When I look around me
and see the young men nowadays--ay, and the young women too--who believe
in no hereafter, who lie down and die, like the dumb animals who cannot
be made to understand the love of the dear God who created them although
they feel it, I cannot think of anything calculated to do them more good
than the return of a father or a mother or a friend, who could convince
them by ocular demonstration that there is a future life and happiness
and misery, according to the one we have led here below.
"Oh, but," I seem to hear some readers exclaim, "we _do_ believe in all
that you say. We have been taught so from our youth up, and the Bible
points to it in every line." You may _think_ you believe it, my friends,
and in a theoretical way you may; but you do not _realize_ it, and the
whole of your lives proves it. Death, instead of being the blessed
portal to the Life Elysian, the gate of which may swing open for you any
day, and admit you to eternal and unfading happiness, is a far-off misty
phantom, whose approach you dread, and the sight of which in others you
run away from. The majority of people avoid the very mention of death.
They would not look at a corpse for anything; the sight of a coffin or a
funeral or a graveyard fills them with horror; the idea of it for
themselves makes them turn pale with fright. Is _this_ belief in the
existence of a tender Father and a blessed home waiting to receive them
on the other side? Even professed Christians experience what they term a
"natural" horror at the thought of death! I have known persons of fixed
religious principles who had passed their lives (apparently) in prayer,
and expressed their firm belief in Heaven waiting for them, fight
against death with all their mortal energies, and try their utmost to
baffle the disease that was sent to carry them to everlasting happiness.
Is this logical? It is tantamount in my idea to the pauper in the
workhouse who knows that directly the gate is open to let him through,
he will pass from skilly, oakum, and solitary confinement to the King's
Palace to enjoy youth, health, and prosperity evermore; and who, when he
sees the gates beginning to unclose, puts his back and all his
neighbors' backs against them to keep them shut as long as possible.
Death should not be a "horror" to any one; and if we knew more about it,
it would cease to be so. It is the _mystery_ that appals us. We see our
friends die, and no word or sign comes back to tell us that there _is_
no death, so we picture them to ourselves mouldering in the damp earth
till we nearly go mad with grief and dismay. Some people think me
heartless because I never go near the graves of those whom I love best.
Why should I? I might with more reason go and sit beside a pile of their
cast-off garments. I could _see_ them, and they would actually retain
more of their identity and influence than the corpse which I could _not_
see. I mourn their loss just the same, but I mourn it as I should do if
they had settled for life in a far distant land, from which I could only
enjoy occasional glimpses of their happiness.
And I may say emphatically that the greatest good Spiritualism does is
to remove the fear of one's own death. One can never be quite certain of
the changes that circumstances may bring about, nor do I like to boast
overmuch. Disease and weakness may destroy the nerve I flatter myself on
possessing; but I think I may say that as matters stand at present _I
have no fear of death whatever_, and the only trouble I can foresee in
passing through it will be to witness the distress of my friends. But
when I remember all those who have gathered on the other side, and whom
I firmly believe will be present to help me in my passage there, I can
feel nothing but a great curiosity to pierce the mysteries as yet
unrevealed to me, and a great longing for the time to come when I shall
join those whom I loved so much on earth. Not to be happy at once by any
manner of means. I am too sinful a mortal for that, but "to work out my
salvation" in the way God sees best for me, to make my own heaven or
hell according as I have loved and succoured my fellow-creatures here
below. Yet however much I may be destined to suffer, never without hope
and assistance from those whom I have loved, and never without feeling
that through the goodness of God each struggle or reparation brings me
near to the fruition of eternal happiness. _This_ is my belief, _this_
is the good that the certain knowledge that we can never die has done
for me, and the worst I wish for anybody is that they may share it with
me.
"Oh! though oft depressed and lonely,
All my fears are laid aside,
If I but remember only
Such as these have lived and died."
THE END.
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=_13. On Circumstantial Evidence_=--By Florence Marryat
This is a story in which love and intrigue are the two disturbing
elements. Miss Marryat is well-known to the readers of sentimental
novels. She has a bright and crisp way of presenting the frailties of
the human race, which makes her stories entertaining.--_Boston Herald._
CLOTH, $1.00. PAPER COVER, 30 CENTS.
=_14. Miss Kate, or the Confessions of a Caretaker_=--By Rita
This is a novel of much interest in the first part, of the objectionable
"guilty love" order in the latter half. There are some beautiful bits of
character drawing in it, and some very clever hits at American foibles.
This story is exceedingly well told.--_Nashville American._
CLOTH, $1.00. PAPER COVER, 30 CENTS.
=_15. A Vagabond Lover_=--By Rita
Is a mere sketch. The hero having been a child who was washed on shore
from a shipwreck during a storm, and found by a man who believed that he
had discovered the cause and generation of life. The child was made a
subject for experiment; life was breathed into it, but only physical
life and not its higher principle. The result is that the child grows up
to manhood without one redeeming virtue, and seems to delight in doing
all manner of evil.--_Philadelphia Record._
CLOTH, $1.00. PAPER COVER, 20 CENTS.
_=16. The Search for Basil Lyndhurst=_--By Rosa N. Carey
Is a well written English novel, into which are woven numerous
historical sketches, adding the merit of instructiveness to its other
qualities.--_Pittsburgh Post._
CLOTH, $1.00. PAPER COVER, 30 CENTS.
=_39. Sylvia Arden_=--By Oswald Crawfurd
Is a novel whose story is supposed to be told by a man who confesses at
the outset that life has been with him a failure. He has been successful
in nothing though trying everything--and the novel deals with the most
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book, and there is much in it which is fresh as well as
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CLOTH, $1.00. PAPER COVER, 30 CENTS.
=_40. Young Mr. Ainslie's Courtship_=--By F. C. Philips
It seems impossible for F. C. Philips, the author of "As in a Looking
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and agreeable up to the very last chapter.--_San Francisco Chronicle._
CLOTH, $1.00. PAPER COVER, 30 CENTS.
_=41. The Haute Noblesse=_--By Geo. Manville Fenn
Is a well wrought story of which the heroine is a child of the high
aristocracy, but nevertheless such admirable traits and qualities that
even the humblest reader cannot fail to love her.--_Columbus, O.,
Journal._
CLOTH. $1.00. PAPER COVER, 30 CENTS.
=_42. Mount Eden_=--By Florence Marryat
Miss Florence Marryat is well known to the readers of sentimental
novels. She has a bright and crisp way of presenting the frailties of
the human race, which makes her stories entertaining, even if they are
devoid of all good moral purpose. They open one's eyes to the
inconsistencies of life without wholly destroying his faith in his
fellow citizens.--_Boston Herald._
CLOTH, $1.00. PAPER COVER, 30 CENTS.
_=82. A Woman's Heart=_--By Mrs. Alexander
The name of this author is familiar to all lovers of fiction who will
need nothing more to assure them that they will not regret the time
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works.
CLOTH, $1.00. PAPER COVER, 50 CENTS.
_=83. Syrlin=_--By Ouida
The announcement of a new novel by Ouida, sends a thrill of delight
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=_84. The Rival Princess_=--By Justin McCarthy and Mrs. Campbell Praed
It is a romance of contemporary English politics wherein many well-known
public men appear under thin disguises. There is a Stuart princess with
lineal claims to the English throne, and there is an unmasked Mr.
Gladstone, who boldly urges the abolition of the House of
Lords.-_-Charleston Sunday Times._
CLOTH, $1.00. PAPER COVER, 50 CENTS.
_=85. Blindfold=_--By Florence Marryat
Is, in many respects, the best novel which has been given us by the
prolific pen of the well-known Englishwoman. The story is novel, well
told, and events follow upon each other quickly, never allowing the
interest to flag.--_Denver News._
CLOTH, $1.00. PAPER COVER, 50 CENTS.
UNITED STATES BOOK COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, N. Y.
Transcriber's Notes:
Text that was written in bold is marked =like this=.
Page 4, "MARRYATT" changed to "MARRYAT" (Normalising spelling of
author's name)
Page 18, "nor" changed to "not" (a single medium of whom I have not)
Page 47, "bood" changed to "blood" (where the stain of his blood still
remained)
Page 49, "briliant" changed to "brilliant" (a room that was unpleasantly
brilliant)
Page 58, "tempered" changed to "tampered" (it had not been tampered
with)
Page 61, "seing" changed to "seeing" (the possibility of seeing a
"ghost,")
Page 127, "foreigh" changed to "foreign" (he was equally ignorant of
foreign languages)
Page 134, "succssefully" changed to "successfully" (in order to imitate
her manner and speech successfully)
Page 137, "Gupyy" changed to "Guppy" (As Mrs. Guppy came sailing over
our heads)
Page 138, "it" changed to "if" (I inquired of every sitter if they had
seen)
Page 155, "eartly" changed to "earthly" (as naturally as if she were
their earthly form)
Page 156, "Fitzgarald" changed to "Fitzgerald" (Mrs. Fitzgerald was
dining with us)
Page 158, "Fitzgereld" changed to "Fitzgerald" (returned through Mrs.
Fitzgerald)
Page 176, "don" changed to "done" (perhaps, than anything else has done)
Page 180, Added missing end single quote in probable correct place
(through the life that lies before you.')
Page 182, "forgetten" changed to "forgotten" (I had almost forgotten Mr.
Plummer)
Page 185, "mamed" changed to "named" (a photographer in London, named
Hudson)
Page 189, "instrument" changed to "instruments" (the two instruments
pealed forth)
Page 198, "ocsion" changed to "occasion" (Mr. Towns prognosticated on
that occasion)
Page 201, "conducter" changed to "conductor" ("Did you know the spirit?"
the conductor asked)
Page 220, "aquaintance" changed to "acquaintance" (soon after I made her
acquaintance)
Page 255, "creature" changed to "creatures" (creatures who were
invisible to me)
Page 256, "Mr" changed to "Mrs" (Mrs. S---- and I slept in the same
room)
Page 264, "Christian" changed to "Christians" (Even professed Christians
experience what they term)
End catalogue, No. 13, "Circumstatial" changed to "Circumstantial" (On
Circumstantial Evidence)
End catalogue, No. 39, "successfu" changed to "successful" (He has been
successful in nothing)
N.B. 1. Some punctuation corrections have not been noted here.
2. Two non-matching instances of latin word: "propria" and "propria".
Left as-is.