CHAPTER XIV

A FAMILY PORTRAIT AND PSYCHIC PHOTOGRAPHY

In the very heart of Warwickshire there is a beautiful old "half timber"

hall, approached by a noble avenue of elms. The hall has come down from

father to son, in the direct line, for nearly six hundred years, as the

dates upon the front of the house testify.

The present Squire is not only an old friend of my early youth, but is

connected through marriage, and he and his wife and I have always been

on very friendly terms. He is the usual type of fox-hunting squire and

county magistrate, did good service during the South African War by

raising a corps of Yeomanry from the estate, and going out with them to

fight his country's battles, and, needless to say, he received a hearty

ovation from his wife and his county when he returned to them in safety.

He is devoted to his beautiful house and estate, and is the last man to

entertain fancies or superstitions in connection with either.

It is necessary to give these few words of explanation before relating

an "incident in my life" for which I have always found it difficult to

account, except on the supposition that some germ of psychic

sensitiveness may exist, even under a hunting squire's "pink coat and

top-boots."

I have known Greba Hall since I was a child, and all its quaint old

family portraits, especially those in the fine oak-panelled hall, with

the old-fashioned open fireplace and "dogs" of the fifteenth century.

But there were so many of these pictures massed together that I have

never distinguished one from the other, with the exception of the few

immediate ancestors of my friend.

Some years ago I was staying with a lady who lived about three miles

from Greba, and we had driven over there to have tea with the Squire's

wife, whom I will call Mrs Lyon. The friend I have mentioned had become

interested in psychic matters since my acquaintance with her, and I had

discovered that she possessed some psychometric capacity.

In the interests of non-psychic readers, I may explain that psychometry

is the science of learning to receive impressions and intuitions from

the atmosphere surrounding any material object--a letter, a ring, a

piece of pebble or shell, and so forth. We seem capable of impressing

all material objects with our personality, and naturally this is

especially the case in letters written and signed by us.

The lady with whom I was then staying--Mrs Fitz Herbert--had tried

receiving impressions from letters several times, at my suggestion, and

always with more or less success. We had been speaking of this with Mrs

Lyon, who was always very sympathetic, and she suggested giving one of

her own letters to Mrs Fitz Herbert to be "psychometrised."

The latter was sitting facing a door which led from the hall to an inner

room, and over this door hung the half-length portrait of an old

gentleman, whom I had never specially remarked before, as the picture

was hung rather high, and there was nothing very characteristic about

the face.

Mrs Fitz Herbert glanced at the portrait once or twice as she held the

letter, and began her remarks upon the writer; but I had no reason to

suppose that the glance was other than casual and accidental.

She gave, however, a very remarkably accurate description (as it turned

out) of Mrs Lyon's unknown friend, both as to his character and the

special and rather unique conditions of his life.

I was feeling naturally gratified that my "pupil" should have acquitted

herself so well, when she suddenly uttered a little expression of pain

and complained of severe headache.

I knew that she suffered from these headaches at times, and was

therefore not surprised by her asking leave to ring for the pony

carriage at once, and we were soon on our way home.

Mrs Fitz Herbert was driving the pony, and as we turned out of the long

elm avenue she murmured in a tone of relief:

"How thankful I am to have got away from that old man! I knew he was

telling me what to say about that letter, but afterwards he wanted to

give me some message himself, and I could not understand it, and that is

what made my head so bad." Then she explained, seeing my bewilderment,

that she was referring to the old gentleman whose portrait hung over the

door I have mentioned.

I suggested that we had better try to find out what the old man wanted

to say, and we arranged to do so that evening after dinner; but as Mr

Fitz Herbert (who had a very charming tenor voice) elected to come in

and sing to us, the old gentleman's communication had to be postponed

until the morning.

Mrs Fitz Herbert and I sat down in the drawing-room the next day, armed

with pencils and paper, so soon as her domestic duties were over. She

was most anxious that _I_ should take the message, but this seemed to me

absurd, considering that I had received no sort of impression about the

picture and could not even recall the face. So she took up the pencil

very unwillingly, and after some difficulty the name of _Richard Lyon_

was given, with the information that he had owned Greba, and had passed

over to the next sphere about one hundred and thirty years previously.

But when it came to trying to find out what he wanted to say, she

professed herself quite unable to grasp it, and passed the pencil

determinedly over to me.

Much to my surprise (for I had seemed to have no link with the old man

at all), he was able to write through my hand with great ease.

He explained to me that he had been much devoted to the property, had

lived only to improve it in every possible way, and that through his

concentration of interest on this one subject his life had been a very

limited one, and that now he could not get away from the remembrance of

his earth life and his beloved Greba.

"I suppose he is trying to explain that he is earth-bound," suggested

Mrs Fitz Herbert.

"Yes; that is just the truth," was the eager response through my hand,

"and it is so sad to think that my own descendants are the ones to keep

me imprisoned in this way. I am told that I could progress, as they call

it here, and be much happier if I could only forget Greba, even for a

time. And it worries me to see things done so differently and not to be

able to do anything myself for the old place. There is no happiness for

me here. Do ask them to set me free," he continued rather pathetically.

"But they don't _want_ to hold you down," I answered. "Tell me how they

do it and what you wish them to do."

The old man then explained the position very carefully and sensibly. He

admitted that his own deep love for his old property and surroundings

and his failure in life to develop any other very deep affection, was

chiefly in fault, but he added, that his portrait being hung there, in

the hall of his descendants, was also very unfortunate for him.

"It drags me down--I don't know why--but I am sure I could get away more

easily if they would not keep that picture in the old hall."

A few more practical questions elicited the following instructions:--He

said the picture might remain in the _county_, so long as it was not in

any house owned by a _Lyon_ (there were several members of the family in

Warwickshire); or it might be sent to London or elsewhere, and kept by

members of the Lyon family, so long as they were not in the direct

descent, and _did not live in his old county_.

We drove over to Greba that afternoon, and took the "message" with us,

knowing there was no fear of encountering the gibes of my fox-hunting

friend at three P.M. on any week day in the hunting season.

Mrs Lyon was extremely interested; she not only endorsed the _Richard

Lyon_ and his dates, but told us that he had done an immense deal for

the property, as her husband had often impressed upon her, and that at

his death, about one hundred and thirty years before, he had lain in

state for three days in the very hall where we had taken our tea, and

where his picture now hung. This was great encouragement, so we put our

heads together, wondering _how_ the poor old man's entreaty might be

complied with.

Mrs Lyon remembered that several of the old portraits were shortly to be

sent to a picture dealer in the neighbouring town (some ten miles away)

to be cleaned, but this special picture was not in need of restoration,

unfortunately.

"Still, I could put it with the others, and let it go to Warwick, and

then tell the man not to do anything with it--but what would Edward say?

Can you _imagine_ his allowing the picture to be taken down upon this

evidence?"

From an acquaintance with "Edward" extending over large tracts of years,

I was forced to admit that even my robust imagination could not reach so

far. "_Skittles!_" or "_Confounded cheek!_" would be his mildest reply

to such a request, even from the friend of his youth! I did not care to

think how much further his indignation might carry him!

But I felt so strongly that something outside myself had inspired the

message, with its accurate instructions, that at last I prevailed upon

Mrs Lyon to promise she would mention the matter to her husband, and

thus leave the responsibility of refusal with _him_.

She did so, and the refusal was all my fancy had painted--and more!

Several months passed, and the following spring I was once more in the

neighbourhood, staying with my own relations this time, who were related

also to the Squire and his wife.

The first piece of news I received at dinner the night of my arrival was

that the Greba Hall picture _had been sent in to Warwick!_

I could hardly believe my ears. My relatives could tell me nothing

beyond the fact, and advised my paying an early visit to Greba Hall

during the absence of the master.

I did this, and Mrs Lyon told me all she knew about the matter, which

was not very much.

"After you were here last," she said, "I spoke to Edward as I promised,

and, of course, he laughed the whole thing to scorn, and was very rude

about our tomfoolery."

"Yes, I know all about that," I answered hastily. "But what happened

_afterwards_--after I left Warwickshire, I mean?"

"That was the queerest part of it all," she resumed. "A few days after

you had gone away he stood under the picture one evening, coming in from

hunting and waiting for tea in the hall, and said as he looked up at old

Richard Lyon:

"'Do you suppose I should allow _your_ picture to be taken down--_you_

who did so much for my property? Of course not!'"

"This happened once or twice, at intervals. Then he _said_ nothing, but

I used to notice that he always looked up at the picture whenever he

came into the hall or stood by the fireplace. At last, about three

months ago, he turned round suddenly, and said:

"'When are you going to send those pictures to be cleaned?' Now you know

I had been keeping the other pictures back, with a dim hope that Edward

might relent. But I saw it was quite useless, so I told him they were

going next day. To my intense surprise he said rather abruptly: 'Then

send this picture with them, and don't ask me any questions.'"

His wife took the hint, and waited for no second bidding. Off went the

picture to the Warwick shop, and there it remained for nearly six

months.

When it came back eventually, the Squire was very triumphant on the

subject, but I was equally triumphant in pointing out that nothing could

alter the fact that the picture _had_ been sent away, in spite of his

earlier denunciations of our folly.

Also I suggested that a good deal can happen in six months on either

side of the veil, and that no doubt poor old Richard Lyon had had ample

opportunity to "get free," as he called it, thanks to the unaccountable

action of his descendant!

I have reserved this story for my last chapter for two reasons. It

happened within the last few years, but I cannot remember the exact

date, and dare not inquire from my irascible hunting friend; and also it

did not specially link on to any of the previous incidents described.

* * * * *

I must now pass on to the autumn months of 1905, which found me in

Eastbourne, where I have various kind friends.

I had been going through a time of great anxiety, owing to family

reasons, and went down to Eastbourne with every prospect of finding rest

and peace there. I arrived on the 11th of November, and the first few

days amply justified my hopes.

Then a feeling of the most intense depression came over me, quite

unexpected and unaccountable. My family anxieties and responsibilities

were happily over. I had been able to make a wise, and, as it turned

out, most admirable choice, in finding a fresh attendant for an invalid

brother, and there was nothing now to be done but to rest on my oars and

be thankful that a most trying time--requiring infinite patience and

tact--was over.

When this unaccountable depression came on so suddenly, I put it down to

reaction, and expected it to pass away with returning strength, after

the heavy strain. But it _increased_ as the weeks passed on into

December, and did not lift until about eight A.M. on the morning of 22nd

December.

Then I had one of the most vivid experiences of my life. As suddenly as

they had enveloped me some weeks before, so did the heavy clouds now

roll off, leaving me with a sense of freedom and exaltation such as I

have seldom experienced. This sense of freedom and joy and happiness was

so marked that I mentioned it at once to an intimate friend, who came to

see me that day after breakfast. I said to her: "I can only describe it

as if one had suddenly been let out of prison or taken from a dark,

dismal room into one with glorious sunshine streaming through the

windows, where the very sense of being alive is sufficient joy; in fact,

I never felt so thoroughly alive before. And the curious thing is that

there is no apparent reason for this--nothing is changed--I have not

even had any specially pleasant letters. Life is just the same on the

outer; but on the _inner?_ Well, I cannot describe it!"

"But can't you account for it at all?" asked my friend, who had been

with me through all the depressing influences of the former weeks and

was astounded, as well as delighted, by the inexplicable change in my

spirits.

"Well, it is the day after the shortest day," I said, laughing. "But it

has never had such an extraordinary effect upon me before."

All day long this exuberant feeling of delight and happiness remained. I

had no specially spiritual or religious experience in connection with

it, but rather the happy feeling of confidence that a child might have,

who, after wandering about in unknown lanes and thorny paths, suddenly

found himself transported, with no effort of his own, to the dear,

familiar house and loving home faces.

Five days later, in a private letter, I read the first allusion to the

death of Dr Richard Hodgson. It came to me in a letter from Mrs Forbes,

not as a fact, but as an uncorroborated report, which would probably be

found incorrect.

"_There is nothing about it in The Times this morning, so I don't

suppose it is true._" These were her exact words. I don't think I ever

really doubted the truth of it, although it came as a bolt out of the

blue.

Only a few days previously, a letter from an intimate friend of Dr

Hodgson in America (he had brought us together) mentioned her having

seen him lately and thinking he was really much depressed over his work

and other matters, "_though, doubtless, if I taxed him with this he

would say it was quite untrue; but I feel quite convinced that it is

true_."

These words had not at the time given me any clue to my own curious

depression, but when the first _rumour_ of his death reached me, I felt

convinced that it was true, and that I must have taken on his joyful

conditions when he first found himself on the other side of the veil. I

can only surmise, therefore, that the weeks of my depression _may_ have

corresponded with feelings alluded to by his intimate friend; although

less intuitive, if not less valued associates, may have noticed nothing

but his usual cheery and genial spirits.

A telegram sent to Mr Stead showed me clearly that my inquiry had been

_his_ first intimation of anything wrong. Then, in despair of getting

accurate information, I wrote to Sir Oliver Lodge, who kindly responded

at once, confirming my worst fears. He was good enough to send me later

the particulars of the event, supplied by Professor William James.

It was a bitter blow for _us_, but for _him_ how joyous an awakening!

I am grateful for having had, through personal experience, even a dim

reflection of that wonderful New Life, so overwhelming and so exuberant,

that its rays could reach to the hearts of some of those who had been

honoured by his friendship.

On comparing notes I found that, allowing for difference of time,

forty-eight hours must have elapsed between his physical departure and

my experience of his awakening to new conditions.

There may be various ways of accounting for this. The spirit may not

have been wholly freed at once from its physical envelope, but may have

remained possibly, in some condition of unconsciousness, after the

strangely sudden severance of the tie that binds body and soul together.

_Note._--Since the above was written, I have received an explanation of

the lapse of time between the passing of Doctor Hodgson, 20th December,

and my experience of 22nd December 1905.

On 6th February 1907 I had the privilege of a sitting with Miss

MacCreadie, who not only gave an accurate description of Doctor

Hodgson's personal appearance, and of his sudden call hence, but added

that this spirit wished to explain to me that he had not been able to

get entirely away from the body for quite two days after physical death,

and that meanwhile he must have been in a state of trance. Miss

MacCreadie did not know the name of the spirit whom she described so

accurately, and whose message was thus conveyed to me.--E. K. B.

Some time after Dr Hodgson left us, a friend in London wrote to me that

she had either just read or heard that he had made some communication,

to the effect that "_he was not very happy, as he had regarded his work

only from the intellectual point of view_."

This seemed to me a most unlikely sort of message to come from such a

man.

In such cases there is nothing like going to the fountain-head for

information, and this came to me in the following words, which are, I

think, characteristic and certainly sensible:--

"My work _was_ intellectual--how could I regard it from any other point

of view? That has nothing to do with the spiritual side of things. My

spiritual life was very latent, it is true; but it was sincere, so far

as it went, and in this more favourable atmosphere, the buds are

unfolding, and I am learning more and more of the love and wisdom which

I always dimly saw and appreciated. It is the attitude of mind which is

all-important, and my attitude, though critical, was never obstructive,

as you know."

* * * * *

I should like to say a few words now on the subject of superstitions. We

are _all_ superstitious in various ways and upon different points--I may

laugh at _your_ superstition because it does not happen to appeal to me,

but you may be quite sure you could find out my "Achilles Heel" if we

lived together long enough.

The only difference between people is, that some are honest about their

superstitions and others--are not!

I met a lady not long ago at a foreign _table d'hôte_ who started our

acquaintance by remarking that she was thankful to say she had not a

single superstition. Before we had spent ten days under the same roof I

discovered that she believed in portents and lucky stones and the "whole

bag of tricks," and possessed the power of seeing people in their astral

bodies.

This is to introduce my own strongest superstition, which is a horror of

seeing the new moon for the first time through glass. _Breaking_ glass

is almost as disastrous in my experience, even if the article itself

only costs a few pence.

Now I do not for one moment suggest that either one or other is the

_cause_ of my subsequent misfortunes. No one surely can be childish

enough to suppose such a thing; yet I have known sensible people labour

this point in order to show me the folly of my ways--and thoughts.

Again, I am quite aware that some people may break as much glass or

china as the proverbial bull, and see the moon through the former medium

every month of their lives, and not be a penny the worse for it--beyond

the amount of their breakages. I only maintain that for _me_ these two

things are invariably the precursors of misfortune.

When people say to me: "How can a sensible woman like yourself be so

foolish as to think such things?" I can only truthfully answer that I

should be very much _more_ foolish if so many years of my life had

passed without my noticing the sequence of events.

But to _explain_ the phenomena is quite another matter.

It seems to me quite reasonable that, allowing the possibility of

influences coming to us from the other side, some sign--no matter how

trivial--might be impressed upon us as a gentle warning to be prepared

for disasters, more or less severe.

Another curious thing is this: I have never found that avoiding seeing

the moon through glass _in any artificial way_ prevents disaster. I used

to let kind friends, indulgent to my "folly," lead me blindfold up to

the window, carefully thrown open for my benefit. I can remember a most

elaborate scene of precaution once, in an American railway carriage

between Philadelphia and Boston, when a charming American lady, about to

lecture on Woman's Suffrage, and grateful to me for some points I had

given her with regard to the woman's question in New Zealand, insisted

upon having a heavy window pulled up by a negro attendant, when she

found out my little weakness.

It was all of no avail. Left alone, I should most certainly have seen

the moon through glass on that occasion, and I felt, even at the moment,

that I had not really altered anything by falling in with the kind

American lady's suggestion.

In September 1906 I was going through a course of baths at Buxton, and

on a certain Sunday (2nd September) I saw the moon through glass in my

bedroom window in the most unmistakable way. There was no friendly

cloud, no other twinkling light to throw the smallest shadow of doubt

upon the fact. There was much good-humoured laughter over my

"superstition" in the house; but I knew _some_ trouble was on its way,

little dreaming that it was one which would alter my whole life.

On the Wednesday morning (5th September) I received the first intimation

of what proved to be the last illness of a brother who has been

mentioned in these pages already, and who had been an invalid for nearly

thirty years. A point to be noticed is that on the Sunday, when the sign

came to me, he was in his usual health, and even on Monday went out for

a long drive. The first attack of angina pectoris only came on in the

middle of the night of Monday-Tuesday, 3rd to 4th September.

Later, when the disease had become acute, and I was in the south of

England, living in hourly suspense, and receiving telegrams and letters

several times a day, another curious incident occurred which has a

bearing upon our subject.

As my readers are probably aware, in this sad and painful illness the

only proof of unselfish affection which one can give, may be to keep

away from the patient, when you know that all is being done for him that

skill and devotion can suggest. The smallest agitation is almost certain

to bring on a fresh attack of the terrible pain, and so long as there is

_any_ hope of a rally, or, in fact, any consciousness that can possibly

result in increased suffering, _everyone_ should be kept away from the

patient except those who are in actual and necessary attendance.

This naturally entails great mental distress and suffering upon those

who are living from hour to hour, in a state of tension and suspense.

After more than a fortnight of alternate hopes and fears, the position

became almost unendurable, and I was making all preparations for a visit

to the patient, or at least to the house where he lay (against my better

judgment), when letters and a telegram arrived imploring me not to come,

as a short visit from another relative had proved most disastrous in

bringing on another attack of the terrible pain; from which he never

really rallied.

Under these distressing circumstances, there could be but one course

open to me.

I was staying with my kind friends Admiral and Mrs Usborne Moore at this

sad time, and can never feel sufficiently grateful for their goodness

to me and sympathy with my distress.

The Admiral, as many of us know, is a most persevering student of

psychic science, and I think it was by his suggestion, or at anyrate

with his approval, that I determined to pay a visit to a lady of whom he

had spoken to me--Mrs Arnold, a daughter-in-law of Sir Edwin Arnold--who

is a gifted clairvoyant.

I went alone to the house, that she might not be able to connect me with

my host and hostess; and the interview was a remarkable one.

There were many evidential points given, which, for family reasons, it

is impossible to publish. She gave me the crystal ball to hold for a

good five minutes, in order that it might become impregnated by my

influence; and then she took it from me, and began making a series of

statements, without pausing for a moment or attempting to "fish," to use

a technical term.

These statements included my own life and studies and chief interests,

and the number and sex of my immediate family; also the attitude of the

various members towards myself, and in each case the special statement

was absolutely correct.

Her first words were: "You are in great anxiety, I see. It is about the

illness of an elderly man. _Two_ people with whom you are in very

intimate relations are ill, I see, but I will tell you now of the one

you wish to hear about especially."

She went on to describe not only my brother's surroundings and illness

at the time, but also his permanent state of paralysis, adding that he

was now in the country, for she saw green trees all round him and

waving grass. As my brother's life for many years had been spent

entirely between London and the seaside, this was a good bit of

evidence. As a matter of fact, he was spending a few weeks in a

country cottage for the first time in his life.

The single point where she failed was as to the _time_ of his passing

away. She saw at once that the illness was one from which he could not

permanently recover, and gave the approximate time very tentatively. "We

cannot see times exactly--they come only in symbols. For instance, I see

now falling leaves; it looks like an autumn scene, and so I infer that

means later on--perhaps October or November."

This, as I have said, was the only mistake in the whole interview. My

brother passed to the Higher Life on 24th September.

When I saw his valet in town later, I asked him about the trees, and he

explained that owing to the great heat, the leaves were all over the

ground, and gave an autumnal look to everything.

Most of us noticed the same appearance in London and elsewhere, even

quite early in September 1906.

The _second_ friend lying dangerously ill was a puzzle to me at the

time; but within five days of my brother's transition, I heard of the

death of Judge Forbes, who was one of my most intimate friends, as Mrs

Arnold had truly observed. His illness was a very short one; but on

comparing notes with members of his family I found that he had taken to

his bed three days _before_ my visit to Mrs Arnold, and was already very

seriously ill, although I had no knowledge of the fact for more than a

week after my interview with her.

Before closing these personal records I must say a few words on the much

vexed question of psychic photographs.

As my friend Admiral Usborne Moore observes in a letter received from

him as I write these words: "We are dealing with a great mystery here."

He is himself one of those who by persevering effort is helping us to

solve the mystery.

It is certainly the branch of psychic science which promises the best

results from an evidential point of view, but it must be a case of "each

man his own photographer."

There is always a tendency in human nature to be over-credulous as to

our own achievements, and over-sceptical as to those of our neighbours.

So for many years probably, we shall only accept our "very own" psychic

photographs as quite genuine; but when a sufficient number of people are

convinced by their personal experiences in this line of research, there

will be some hope that the subject will go through the usual stages--(1)

Impossible and absurd; (2) Possible, but very improbable; (3) Possible,

and not even abnormal; (4) Finally, normal, and "_Just what we knew all

about from the first!_"

Meanwhile some of us have been experimenting, with professional

assistance, and in these cases the question is not "Can such photographs

be faked?" We all know nowadays that faking photographs is the easiest

of all possible frauds. I have spent many a half hour doing the faking

myself, with an amateur photographer, by sitting for so many seconds in

a chair and then vacating it in favour of some other "spook"!

No, the whole question at present must be determined by our recognition

or non-recognition of the photographs produced.

If Mr Boursnell or any other photographer can produce (_as he has done_)

my old nurse, who died twenty-three years ago, and was never

photographed in her life, then we must find some other suggestion than

that of "common or garden faking" as a solution of the mystery. There

she sits, as in life, with a little knitted shawl round her shoulders

and the head of a tiny child upon her lap. The eyes are closed, and give

a dead look to the face, yet the features are to me quite unmistakable,

and no one knew the dear old woman so well as I did.

Again, I have in my little picture gallery, an old and very well-known

Oxford professor, in whose house I stayed many times.

Quite unexpectedly he appeared on one of Mr Boursnell's plates last

summer, and although this special photograph is fainter than the one

just described, the likeness can only be denied by someone more anxious

to be sceptical than truthful. I compared the photograph with an

engraving of the professor in much earlier life--which is to be found in

the Life published since he passed away--with an artist friend (who had

not known him). We went over the features one by one, and my friend said

she noticed only one small difference, the exact length of the upper

lip, and this, she considered, would be amply accounted for by the lapse

of time between the two pictures and the slight lengthening of the upper

lip owing to loss of teeth. The professor passed away as an old man; the

picture engraved in the Life represents him as he was at least twenty

years before his death.

But the most interesting point to me in this photograph, is the

appearance on his lap of a much loved dog, a rather large fox terrier

named "Bob." I had not noticed Bob until a daughter of the professor

pointed him out to me, and now I cannot understand having missed him at

first.

Bob was not only the most important person in the Oxford household, but

he was good enough to be very fond of me, so it seems to me quite

natural that he should have come with his master to pay me a visit.

I remember arriving at the house one dark winter's evening after an

absence of over two years, and Bob's welcome to me was so ecstatic that

he nearly knocked me down in a vain attempt to get his paws round my

neck.

I heard the professor, who was always rather jealous of Bob's

affections, say in a whisper to his wife: "Most touching thing I ever

saw, that dog's welcome when Miss Bates arrived!"

Dear Bob! I am so glad he can still come and see me, with his dearly

loved master.

Another shuffle of the photographs brings to the top a sweet girlish

face and figure, "sixteen summers or something less."

She appeared first upon a plate in the summer of 1905, but so

indistinctly as to the _face_ that I could not recognise it.

A few months ago the same figure appeared again, but quite clearly this

time, and involuntarily, as I looked at it, I exclaimed: "_Why, of

course, it is Lily Blake!_"

Now it is nearly thirty years since I met this charming child; during my

first visit to Egypt. She and her father (a well-known physician) and

her aunt, were spending a six weeks' holiday in Cairo, and I saw more of

her than would otherwise have been the case, because she was the

playmate of another young girl--the child of friends of mine at

Shepheard's Hotel.

Lily was a sweet-looking, delicate girl, with soft, sleepy blue eyes,

and was always dressed in a simple, artistic fashion. A few months after

our return to England I saw in the papers the death of this pretty

child; for she was little more at the time. I wrote a letter of

condolence and sympathy, which was at once answered by the aunt in very

kind fashion; and since then I have seen nothing to remind me of Lily

until this last year has brought her once more within my ken. I am only

too thankful to realise that any influence so pure and beautiful as

hers, may be around me sometimes in my daily life.

* * * * *

And now let me say, in the words of our great novelist:

"Come, children, let us shut up the box and the puppets, for our play is

played out!"

Only I trust in this case we have managed to rise a little above the

usual atmosphere of Vanity Fair.

Surely the aim of all psychic research should be to give us a

_scientific_, as we have already, thank God, a spiritual, foundation for

the "Hope that is in us."

Spirit photographs and spirit materialisations and abnormal visions or

abnormal sounds amount to very little, if we look upon them as an end

in themselves, and not as the symbols and the earnest of those greater

things which "Eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither hath it entered

into the heart of _man_ to conceive."

I remember, years ago, in the course of a deeply interesting

conversation with Phillipps Brooks, the late Bishop of Massachusetts,

that I asked him what he thought about modern theosophy, which was just

then becoming a _culte_ in his native town of Boston. There was a great

deal of talk at the time about the new philosophy and the wonderful

phenomena said to accompany its propaganda. Sir Edwin Arnold had written

his "Light of Asia," and Oliver Wendell Holmes had welcomed it with

wondering awe, as something approaching a new revelation. And smaller

people were talking about the historical Blavatsky tea-cups, and hidden

heirlooms found in Indian gardens, and some of us were wondering how

soon we should learn to fly, and what would come next.

The bishop's answer to my question was so genial, so characteristic, and

showed such divine common-sense!

"It is not a question of _flying_," he said. "I should like to fly as

much as anybody; and a queer sort of bird I should appear!" (He was well

over six feet, and broad in proportion.)

"If you suddenly found you could fly," he continued, "it would be

_absorbing_ on Monday morning, _intensely interesting_ on Tuesday,

_interesting_ on Wednesday, and _quite pleasant_ on Thursday, but by the

end of the week it would be getting normal, and you would want to

discover some other new power. No, believe me, the real question is not

_flying_, but WHERE you would fly, and WHAT YOU WOULD DO WHEN YOU GOT

THERE."

This sums up the case in a nut shell, and seems to me only another way

of saying: "Don't forget the spiritual significance beneath the

scientific symbol."

And I would add: "Let us all join hands in the interesting and absorbing

work of trying to make our symbols as scientific as we can, by finding

out the laws which govern them, as well as all other things, in this

universe of Love and Law. Probably we are here to learn, above all

things else, that Love and Law are ONE."

* * * * *

Many people have had far more remarkable experiences than mine. For

various good reasons I have carefully abstained from any attempt to

cultivate, or in any way increase, the sensitiveness which is natural to

me.

I can only assure my readers that my record has been absolutely

accurate. In many cases it would have been very easy to write up the

stories into some far more dramatic form; but by doing so the whole aim

and object of my book would have been destroyed.

I wanted to trace the thread of what we at present consider abnormal,

through the whole skein of a single life, hoping thereby to encourage

others to do the same.

It is only by putting these things down, if not for publication, then in

some diary or commonplace book, that we can realise how far our normal

life is, even now and here, interpenetrated by another plane of

existence.

And so farewell to all kind readers who have followed me to the end of

my personal record of curious events--curious chiefly by reason of our

present imperfect knowledge.

APPENDIX

I

Much has been said of the folly and triviality of all messages coming,

or purporting to come, from the Unseen. I think here, as elsewhere, like

clings to like, and we get very much what we deserve; or rather, to put

it in a more philosophical and Emersonian way, we receive _what belongs

to us_.

Emerson tells us in one of his most illuminating passages, that

everything which belongs to our spiritual estate is coming to us as

quickly as it can travel. All the winds of heaven, all the waves of

earth, are bringing it to us, and neither angel nor devil can prevent

our taking what is ours or rejecting what is _not_ ours.

This is a universal law, and applies to automatic writing as to

everything else. Emphatically we get what belongs to our spiritual

estate.

Therefore any casual and general remarks as to the foolishness of all

automatic writing, must of necessity be made by those who are ignorant

of this spiritual law, or whose experience of such messages is very

limited.

I intend to give a few which I have myself received, in the form of an

Appendix to my book. With one exception, they all come from a very dear

friend, who passed into the other sphere little more than a year ago

under peculiarly happy circumstances. I do not wish to give his name,

although it would add considerably to the interest of the narrative. I

shall therefore call him Mr Harry Denton. The messages will be given

exactly in the form in which they were received, and without any

editing. We never discussed theological ideas from any standpoint of

_creed_; but I imagine that my friend, when here, would have looked upon

Jesus Christ as one of the many inspired teachers of the world, and that

his views were cosmic rather than religious--_in any narrow sense_--and

certainly _religious_, in the broad sense of the term, rather than

_theological_.

The first conversation (for this is a better description of my friend's

communications than the word _message_) refers to my own attitude, as

compared with that of a lady friend of mine, regarding Jesus of

Nazareth.

H. D.--I see a great stream of light round you, Kate, and it seems to

have come with your truer conception of Jesus Christ. It is all right

for your friend to say she prefers to put the matter aside and leave it

alone. That is just the best thing she can do; in fact, the _only_ thing

she can do at present.

The seed is still underground, and the moment of emergence has not come.

To try and force it above ground just now, would be fatal. It would also

be immature and uncalled for. The old husks of man-made creeds must drop

off gradually, leaving the bud they protected intact, not be torn off by

an impatient hand.

So far her instinct seems to me a true one. But the case is widely

different for _you_. The husks _have_ fallen off, as a matter of fact,

and the discomfort and sense of something wrong arose from your knowing

that you were only striving desperately to clutch on to them, when the

fine, strong bud was there, able and ready to take its proper share of

sunshine and rain, and even to bear the cold winds of misrepresentation

and misunderstanding if need be.

"QUIT YOU LIKE MEN, BE STRONG." That is _your_ lesson-book, and you will

never feel happy or content until you are learning it.

Surely you must feel how much you have gained since you faced your own

facts?

E. K. B.--Yes, Harry, I do; but I don't quite understand _your_

position. Are you at the same point of view?

H. D.--No; not yet. It is all rather foreign to my previous notions. I

thought of Jesus of Nazareth as a great teacher--one of _the_ great

teachers of the world--but I had still to learn His unique position as

regards our chain of worlds.

They tell me here that He was the _first_ to attain to the full stature

of the _Divine Man_ as he existed in the thought of the Absolute.

Spiritual evolution is the process, apparently the only process, whereby

a Son of God in this sense can appear. And æons of time have been

necessary to produce this fine Flower of Humanity. Your own band are

helping me to understand this. _Having attained, being the anointed

One_, it is given to Him to bring the whole race after Him.

This is quite a different conception from my former one, and the one

held by most of those whom in old days we called Unitarians.

_You_ have had to _unlearn_, or rather to drop, some of the husks of old

tradition which have been guarding the truth for you, whereas I have

still _to come up to the truth_; but the point reached will be the same,

whether the approach to it is from north or south--do you see?

In Christ Jesus, they tell me, we are _all_ new creatures, as a matter

of fact; because, consciously or unconsciously, we are working together

with Him to realise and manifest ourselves, as made after the Image of

God.

He is the example and the pledge for us. St Paul saw this, of course,

and your present position illuminates his teaching for me enormously. So

I have much to thank you for, Kate. It is easier to learn from those we

know and trust, than from strangers.

And, moreover, when we can learn from the loved ones on earth _as well

as through the loved ones here_, it makes the links in the golden chain

complete, and helps us to realise the unity and solidarity of our common

existence, _in the Father--with the Son_. H. D.

II

Another morning I had told H. D. that I had been reading an article in

_The Nineteenth Century--and After_, I think, entitled "An Agnostic's

Progress," and asked if he had sensed it through me at all.

H. D.--Yes. We will begin with that this morning. I am very glad you

read it, for it is curiously like my own experiences in the same line.

Since coming over here, and thereby coming into such direct touch with

you, I have been able to grasp the key to much that puzzled me on the

other side.

As my views became more spiritualised I saw there _must_ be more truth

in the Christian religion than outsiders supposed, and yet I knew it

could not be absolutely true _in the form in which it has been handed

down_.

_That_ was for me unthinkable, because I saw it would be a sudden and

catastrophic incursion upon a cosmos of Law and Order.

It would mean God working in the highest departments of His Creation, as

He is never seen to work in the lower ones. And my faith in Him

prevented my entertaining such an idea! Schemes and plans of salvation

belong to the comparative childhood of the race, not to the full-grown

spiritual man. They are still in the fairy-tale stage, holding a truth,

but acting only as the husk of the truth.

The unity of the race; the necessity for self-sacrifice in realising

that unity: that by giving our life for our brothers we save our _Life_,

which is that unity in which the brethren are included--all this I could

accept in Christ's teaching or the teaching of the Apostles; but the

rest: the detail, the carefully arranged _scheme_ of the Atonement,

etc., as dogmatic doctrines--all these seemed to me so obviously the

desperate attempts of man at a certain stage of development to fit in

spiritual facts with the most probable theories; and to say that men who

wrote of these things were inspired, and _therefore infallible_, was

absurd.

Even in my short life, I had seen the world pass through several stages

of belief and assimilate them in turn.

As a child, I was told that God was angry with people for sinning and

breaking His commandments, and so Jesus Christ offered to come and die

on the cross to appease His just wrath.

That seemed a great puzzle to me, because, although it might account for

what happened _before_ Christ came and _until_ He came, I could not

understand why God _should go on letting people come into the world_ who

would break His laws, and make Him still more angry for centuries and

centuries. That seemed to me, as a child, so unnecessary.

Later I was told it was not God's anger but His sense of justice that

had to be appeased and satisfied, which was a distinct step in advance.

A little later, however, I read that this was not the hidden truth of

the doctrine. The religious world (the thoughtful section of it) now

arrived at the idea that it was not God who needed to be satisfied or

appeased in any of His attributes, but MAN, and that GOD--in the person

of his Son--came into the world to reconcile the world to Him, and not

Himself to the world.

This was a complete _bouleversement_ of the whole situation, though it

came so gradually that few appreciated that fact.

The last suggestion appeared to me by far the most luminous. In human

life it is invariably the _lower_ nature that needs to be reconciled and

conciliated; whilst the higher nature, in proportion to its

development, is forgiving and tolerant and wide-minded, and does not

prate about its own high sense of justice requiring to be appeased. The

best type of _man_ punishes a wrong-doer in order that he may learn to

do better and leave off tormenting and wronging his fellow-creatures;

not to appease any instinct in his own breast, for that would be

egotism, no matter how we might try to disguise the fact.

Now if it would be a blot upon the best conceivable _man_ to be

egotistical, _a fortiori_ must it be upon God.

To conceive otherwise is to make God in the likeness of the lower and

not the higher humanity. I thought all that out very clearly.

Still this crux remained for me, that to be suddenly, at any arbitrary

moment in the world's history, obliged, as it were, to send an

absolutely divine part of Himself into the world, was the way a _man_

would act faced by an unforeseen catastrophe, but not the way in which

God has acted throughout the rest of our history.

A succession of teachers, enlightening the world by degrees, and

culminating in the ANOINTED Son of God--the Flower of Humanity--_this_

is entirely in line with the processes of Nature and the laws of God, so

far as we know them.

All progress has its culminating point.

Æons have passed to produce the most exquisite crystals, the highest

forms of vegetation, of animals, of men. Then came the slow processes of

civilising and educating men; the dim instincts of fear and

propitiation, merging, by slow degrees, in the first conceptions of

Love, as something apart from desire, and so forth.

Was I to be expected to shut my eyes to all these known facts, and bolt

down the theories contained in one Book, written by human authors, no

matter how admirable?

I felt it was impossible.

Then I remembered with relief that these very dogmas, as a matter of

fact, were in so fluent a state, that my own bare fifty years of living

had seen at least four different high-water marks!

Here again therefore, under my very eyes, was the universal law of

progress working, the moment it _could_ work, by being released from the

swaddling-clothes of the Roman Catholic Church, which, so far as it is

orthodox, is fossilised.

I saw also that the whole body of dissent had moved on, taking up its

pegs and planting them a little further on each time; till a City

temple, with its widening theology, was an established fact.

Progress everywhere--slow, but sure--and the pace getting quicker, even

in my short span! Still, the _uniqueness_ of Jesus of Nazareth and His

influence over the nineteen centuries was a puzzle.

Buddha's influence has lasted longer, Mahomet's almost as long (the two

cancel any way), but I have always recognised an _advance_ in the

teaching of Jesus Christ. He brought a fresh element, in the personal

note of the Sonship with GOD.

I was at this point when I came over here. Now through your mind I have

been able to see, and, oddly enough, to quicken in your soul, the seed

already planted there.

They tell me the illumination came to you years ago, at

Oberammergau--no, not when you were there for the Passion Play--four

years earlier.

You took it in with your head then, not with your heart. Old traditions

were too strong, I suppose, and you had not made up the last little bit

of your mind, to be true to the convictions that had come to you through

your prayers for light.

And so you have gone on, see-sawing to and fro, not really believing the

old orthodox ideas, but not courageously sweeping them away for

yourself. So although the key was in your hands, you have not used it

until now. You have given me the key, and I have been allowed, as _my_

New Year's gift, to fit it in the door.

This is how Jesus Christ has stood so long at the door of _your_ heart

and knocked. He could only enter through the one door--namely, _that one

opened in the highest point of your spiritual realisation_. I see now

that He comes in at that door in each soul, and, as spiritual evolution

unfolds in each heart, so is the special position of that door shifted;

but the fact of His presence is the vital one! It was not possible for

Him to do otherwise than hide His face, as it were, whilst you were

barring His only door of access--_i.e. your true point of realisation_.

It all seems so clear to me now. And this is how He comes to so many in

different guises.

He is the Perfected Manifestation of GOD, as the Divine Man--the Flower

of Humanity.

But He can come into the heart in the narrowest creed, so long as the

holder of that creed is at _his true point of growth_ and not trying to

stifle God's gift of ever-advancing truth by cowardly want of trust, or

fear of being worse off in the end, by being absolutely honest to

himself and his own convictions in the present.

It has been a long message, and you have taken much of it awkwardly, but

on the whole it represents what I wanted to say. H. D.

III

H. D.--I feel now that you want to know what I meant by telling Miss R.

it was the _likeness_ to the old world which puzzled me here.

You see, we have all imbibed traditional ideas with our mother's milk,

however much our intellects may have modified them. Instinct is stronger

than intellect, because it is more elemental.

The first thing that struck me was that truths which are latent on

earth are made manifest here.

(Here comes an interpolation.)

You can take my words so easily that we must guard against wasting time

in mere verbosity. I must teach you to condense more. We must strike

some sort of balance between my brevity and your amplification. At

present it is as well to get the instrument into proper working order

before worrying too much over these details.

(He then resumed.)

It is as if you turned the old earth garment inside out, and saw the

very fabric of it, which the earth looms have hitherto concealed by the

warp and woof of the manufactured article.

For instance, you are told on earth that you are making your own future

conditions by right or wrong thinking. _Here_ you see the absolute,

_material_ results of right and wrong thinking, just as if you were

looking at two different patterns, woven by two different workers. I

said material results, because matter here is just as real as it was on

earth, and just as illusory, in one sense, in both spheres. Your matter

is unreal to us. Our matter is unreal to you. The truth is, both are

shadows cast by an antecedent reality on the Screens of the Universe.

The screens are the school-houses through which humanity learns its

lessons.

Don't be worried! There is no real difficulty in using your hand; it is

only trying to compromise between your redundancy and my brevity.

Earth is like a gallery of sculpture. (Note by E. K. B.--This simile had

flashed through my brain, and H. D. at once said: "Yes, that is very

good; you started it, and I pick it up and apply it.") All the figures

and groups are perfected and complete in their marble or bronze or

terra-cotta, as the case may be.

Some groups or figures are noble, others mediocre, others again may be

sensual and degrading, but they have one quality in common--for good or

bad, they are _ready made_.

Now go into the sculptor's studio, having studied well in the great

sculpture galleries of the world. You go to the studio, we will suppose,

as a pupil. He puts a lump of clay into your hands, and for the first

time you are invited to model your own statues and figures, to embody

your own ideas in this clay, which corresponds to thought stuff _here_.

You are even made to understand that your houses will only be worthily

furnished by the work of your own hands. _Here_ it is the work of your

own hearts, of your loving or unloving thoughts.

So the first lesson we learn over here is that THOUGHT is not only

Creative Power, as you are often told on earth, but it is also the very

stuff out of which the creation must be moulded. It is, in very truth,

the clay of the modeller.

Shakespeare said truly enough "We are such stuff as dreams are made of,"

but he was referring to our embodied selves.

The difference between the two worlds seems to me, so far as I have

arrived, as the difference between the pupil in the sculpture gallery

and in the experimental studio. The chief part of the earth modelling is

ready made--made by the racial thought stuff and the racial manipulation

of it.

_Here_, for the first time, we must turn to and take a hand in the work

ourselves. It would not be possible to give such individual power in any

lower sphere than this, for it would be misused, and would lead to

terrible tragedies.

You see some slight hints of this in what is called Black Magic--the

wilful and intentional throwing of evil conditions on other people,

making hard and cruel images of them in the mind, and so forth. But all

that is as child's play to what would happen if the absolute clay were

put into their hands, as it is here.

It is the difference between thinking out an ugly picture; and painting

it and hanging it up in a gallery; for we have objectivity here as with

you. Naturally what comes into objective existence has more power than

what remains latent. The latter can only influence exceptionally

sensitive souls, and that to a comparatively small extent, whereas the

former, here as with you, has a much farther range of influence.

So this sort of gunpowder is not given to us until we are old enough to

know better than to burn our fingers with it, in trying to make

fireworks!

At the same time, as all stages of evolution overlap, it is inevitable

that some hint of these possibilities should be already in your world.

Woe be to those who misuse them!

You have taken enough for this morning. H. D.

IV

The friend I have called Mr Harry Denton, during his psychic researches,

came, as many others have done, very strongly under the influence of

"Imperator," the chief of the Stainton Moses controls.

I knew that this was the case, especially during the last three or four

years of my friend's life, and I always rather resented the fact, for

the limitations of Imperator have always appealed to me so strongly, as

to dim, perhaps unduly, his undoubted claims to appreciation.

I have read many of the private Stainton Moses' records (thanks to my

friendship with the executor, with whom these journals were left), and

in all those referring to Imperator's communications, there was to my

mind the same note of cock-sureness and mental tyranny.

There was too much of finality and self-assertion, too much of "_Thus

saith the Lord_," about Imperator's remarks for my rebellious soul. I

could never be strongly impressed by any personality, however admirable,

that so palpably exacted allegiance and unquestioning obedience. These

must be the unconscious tribute to the Genius of Holiness, as to any

other sort of genius; never an enforced levy upon us.

So at least it seems to me. Certainly I would not escape one sort of

priestcraft to set up another in its place, whether the niche be filled

by Mrs Besant or Mrs Eddy or Mr Sinnett, or any other fallible

fellow-creature. Not even Imperator can strike me as infallible; and his

own evident belief in that direction does not affect the question.

It seemed to me rather to be deplored that Mr Denton, with his wide

outlook and cosmic conceptions, should fall so strongly under any

special influence, even that of the admirable Imperator!

So I was curious to know what his views were upon this subject from the

other side of the veil. I will now leave him to speak for himself.

H. D.--You want me to tell you just my position about the Imperator

group before and since I passed to this side? That is easily done.

Remember, the teaching I got through Imperator was practically the first

_spiritual_ teaching I ever had--the first I mean, of course, that I

could assimilate, because it appealed to my reason, as well as to my

sense of the fitness of things--and therefore I can never feel

sufficiently grateful to him and his group; and I see that they can

teach many who would not be amenable to a more distinctly spiritual

appeal.

Imperator is a great force in his way; a sort of plough that goes over

the hard, caked-up earth and throws it open to the sunshine and rain and

all Nature's beautiful influences, to all the possibility of Divine

influences on the corresponding sphere.

But the limitation of Imperator I see clearly now, as you always appear

to have done.

He is, as you say, too final and too dogmatic. This is at once his

weakness and his strength: his weakness, because it limits his own

spiritual receptivity; his strength, because it focusses his power in

dealing with materialistic minds.

A more spiritually true perspective in his communications would rule out

half the souls to whom his appeal is made.

_Stainton Moses has also progressed beyond the Imperator influence, and

this is why the communications between them had become so clogged and so

liable to error._

S. M. could not switch on to the old wires, as in the days when his

horizon was bounded by them. This accounts, I see, for much of the

misconception and apparent inconsistency of the remarks made through Mrs

Piper, but it was very disheartening for the investigator as time went

on and the "Light" became more and more clouded. Then there was the

additional fact to be faced, that Mrs Piper herself became, psychically

rather than physically, exhausted, and less able to be used from this

side.

Now I see you want to know about Frank Strong, and what he said about

sin existing only on your plane, and how inconsistent this was with the

previous teachings of Stainton Moses, who was supposed to be speaking

through Frank's assistance.

It is so difficult to explain everything in black and white when there

are so many shades of grey, so many degrees and amounts to be

considered. It is like a question in mechanics.

With increased momentum you get an increased rate as multiplied by

space. I am not an expert, but this is practically true. In the same

way, spiritual perception acts with increased momentum.

All sin is failure in spiritual perception. Spiritual perception

corresponds with the momentum of a falling body in mechanics. Only in

Divine mechanics it is a _rising_ body; but the same law holds good.

You say truly that an action can only be called sinful when the sinner

knows the higher and deliberately turns to the lower.

That is true; but it is only half a truth. It is still the _lack of

knowledge_ that causes sin. With the fulness of knowledge of the higher

(only another way of putting fulness of spiritual perception) _must_

come the righteousness of life.

It is the broken gleams, the little knowledge, which is truly a

dangerous thing, for it brings responsibility, and therefore the

capacity for sinning. Yet the _choice_ between good and evil fully made,

is the schoolmaster to bring us to the full realisation of our nature as

Sons of God.

Now when Frank came over here, he was so greatly impressed by the

dynamic force of spiritual perception that for the time he lost all

sense of proportion and accuracy of judgment. Compared with the old

earth temptations, those in his sphere seemed non-existent, whilst the

temptations to goodness were enormously increased.

What wonder that in the delightful sensation caused by his sense of

moral and spiritual freedom from old shackles, he should exclaim with

youthful fervour: "Sin is only possible in your sphere--it is unknown

here!" Any communications of which he formed the channel, would of

necessity be coloured by this dominant idea of his. Everything is a

question of degree, and he is learning that lesson now, I find. He says:

"Why do people in the earth life quote our words as if we were Delphic

Oracles?"

Why, indeed? But I am afraid I did much the same whilst so strongly

under the Imperator influence.

E. K. B.--Why is Imperator so slow in throwing off his own spiritual

limitations?

H. D.--I can read your mind so easily. It is quick and alert, and has

already answered its own question. It is because he has a work to do on

your plane amongst those who could not come in touch with a higher

spiritual development. There are spiritual as well as scientific

martyrs, you must remember; and he is one of them. But the Divine

Economy works very beautifully here. He is not conscious of any

spiritual limitation, and therefore he is happy in his work, and the

martyrdom I spoke of is _unconscious_. When it becomes conscious, with

him it will mean that his present plane of work is finished, and that he

will be removed to another "_Form_" so soon as he is prepared to teach

there.

He is essentially a teacher, and a valuable one, for those who have not

soared beyond his present perceptions. It is all so much more simple and

reasonable than you suppose. It is these crusted old creeds that have

misrepresented actual conditions, and yet they also have been, as

Imperator; doing their own work amongst the people to whom they have

acted as necessary stepping-stones.

That is enough for to-day; take a rest now. H. D.

V

The following conversation between Mr Denton and myself (the last of the

series which I propose to give) took place, I see, at Buxton, 4th

September 1906.

There had been some correspondence in _The Daily Telegraph_ about Time

as a fourth Dimension, and I asked my friend if he could say anything to

me on the subject. His reply was as follows:--

Time is really a form of perception, _not a thing in itself_--do you

understand?

Your limitation of perception you call _Time_.

Another limitation is called _Distance_.

This also is an illusion, or a limitation, whichever you choose to call

it.

_The White Ray is the Absolute._ The spectroscope gives you the

limitation which makes the colours perceptible to your human eyes. For

the one who is free from these limitations, all colours exist and are

present in consciousness at the same moment. But they must be split up

and observed severally to enter into the earth consciousness. It is

exactly the parallel of Time.

_Events in Time coincide with the colours in the Ray._ All exist

simultaneously for the one who is free from limitations. All must be

brought into sequence for the one who is bound by limitations.

This is really the key to so many puzzles, and accounts for so many

occult phenomena.

As we transcend the normal earth limits ever so little, so do we develop

these abnormal powers, as they are called. But here, as everywhere, the

reality is just the converse of the apparent.

The true norm is the Perfect Ray--the Ceaseless Sound--the Perfect

Vision; and the abnormal is the limitation upon the earth, or upon any

succeeding plane, short of the Absolute. But naturally we consider that

normal which happens to be our standpoint for the moment.

Already to me the earth limitations appear _abnormal_, and my more

extended capacities mark the norm of existence for me. This must be the

case naturally.

_Prevision_ would be more accurately termed _Whole vision_--seeing the

whole and not the tiny section.

In moments of intense joy or realisation of any kind, Time seems to

cease, and a moment may hold an Eternity. Any absorbing emotion, joyful

or sorrowful, may bring this experience. For the moment _you are out of

yourselves_. This is literally true. You are living in the next

Dimension. Time and Space no longer exist for you. Most of you have had

some such experience, but of necessity it can be a flash only in the

midst of your normal life. Ask me something now.

E. K. B.--A man writing lately in _The Daily Telegraph_ of Time as a

fourth Dimension said something about the cube as being an infinite

number of flat planes of infinite tenuity, heaped up one over the other.

To the person who knew only length and breadth, the cube would have no

existence. Such a person would realise only an infinite number of planes

in sequence. Yet they would all _co-exist_ for the three-dimensional man

of the present day. The suggestion appeared to be that, in exactly a

similar way, events which to the three-dimensional man can only be

perceived normally _in sequence_, would _co-exist_ for a

four-dimensional being. This would mean practically the annihilation of

Time, as giving sequence. Do you see Truth in this idea, and can you

tell me if it extends also to Space?

H. D.--Certainly. That is just what I meant as regards Distance. _All_

limitations are mental, as a matter of fact. We have them here, but

infinitely fewer than in the old earth life.

Mind has always been able to flash from pole to pole and to affect those

at a distance, because mind and distance occupy two different planes.

The latter is an earth limitation. As the veil lifts a little, even on

your side, so you become conscious that mind has these powers; but the

powers were always there. It merely means that you have come up with

your own mental capacities to some small degree.

E. K. B.--Is there any help here for my constant problem: Why should

one's individual life be only _now_ evolving in Eternity? Do you see

what I mean?

H. D.--Yes; but I hardly know the answer to that tremendous problem.

Still, I will try to suggest a few thoughts to you.

To be conscious of holiness and virtue we must have known its

antithesis--evil and separation, which are really synonymous. Separation

from Holiness _is_ evil. It is a condition, a limitation.

It is to the Divine Essence just such a limitation as Time is to the

mortal. Separation is therefore the antecedent cause of all

limitations. These _must_ exist where the Wholeness or Holiness is

absent.

I must use the language of earth or you would not understand. Logically,

of course, Holiness can never be absent, since it is the cause of all

Existence; but it is _apparently absent_, and this apparent absence,

this separation, this evil in fact, acts as a spectroscope. _It

analyses, and thus brings into our consciousness the White Ray of the

Divine Nature._

We can go no further than that. The Divine Chemistry, beyond this fact,

must remain a mystery, probably for ages to come.

We cannot tell _why_ things are thus arranged; we only know that it is

so.

As well ask _why_ the White Ray of Light gives out its colours only

through separating them.

But it is easier to speak of the co-ordination of _events_. Take your

own suggestion of the cube--that will help us best.

Take it that each life is a cube of planes, of experiences. These

experiences are co-existent and knit together, as firmly in the life of

a human being as the many planes are co-existing, and knit together in a

mathematical cube. You can dissect the cube and slice off infinitesimal

small planes in sections.

So is the individual life sliced off into an infinite number of planes

by the sequences of Time (our three-dimensional condition).

But these experiences--great or small, important or trivial (from your

point of view)--_exist in the cube of that person's earth pilgrimage_,

as the colours exist in the White Ray.

The Ray may be split up into sequence, but the colours belong to it all

the same, and by a _perfectly seeing eye_ would be known and recognised

without the help of the spectroscope.

The true seer is the one who sees the cube of your life; before whom it

is spread out, without Time Separations, into planes of experience. This

is the real secret of all _foretelling_. Such people, when honest, have

some amount of access to the cube of earth life, some more, some less.

Many mix up and confuse what they see; but they do see beyond the plane

section which Time gives to the normal human being.

I think you have taken enough now.

I will only add that, of course--as you know--there is nothing arbitrary

in the cube of life, as I have called it. It is built up of necessary

experiences and necessary consequences. But it is built up by Love and

Wisdom, the two Elements of the Divine Nature, in which we live and move

and have our being. H. D.

VI

The next selection that I shall give from my automatic script comes from

an entirely different personality, which can be sufficiently indicated

by the initials E. G.

E. G.--Worship is a necessary part of each soul's training, and we can

only worship that which we feel to be above and beyond ourselves. As we

grow older and become more developed in spiritual consciousness, so do

we tend more and more to worship the inner and intangible, rather than

the outer and manifest. So whilst the instinct of worship is always the

same, the objects and methods must continually change with our own

advancing realisation and unfolding consciousness.

Those limitations which once made for reverence are in time found to be

cramping and to lead to superstition.

It is the same with the education of either children or of childish

nations.

In both cases a _display_ of power is necessary to command obedience,

because the childish mind can only apprehend from the outer, and realise

the existence of that which it sees physically demonstrated. Tell a

child of tender years that to be naughty is to be unhappy, and in

ninety-nine cases out of one hundred he will neither understand nor

believe you. But take away his toys or his sweets or put him in a

corner; make him, in fact, _physically_ aware of the truth that to be

naughty is to bring unpleasant consequences upon himself, and you have

taken the only argument which he is capable of realising at a certain

point of consciousness.

This is why certain nations, at the child point of development, _must_

be treated as children. They don't realise the appeal to the spiritual,

and will only misconceive you and your motives, and read cowardice in

your attempt to treat from a standpoint they have not reached.

It is the same with certain religions, and this is the cause of much

failure in mission work.

Theosophy and Roman Catholicism appeal strongly to comparatively

immature minds.

Those who care more for form than for essence are always in the immature

stage.

They love big words and mysterious sayings and doings. To have something

apart from others--whether it be happiness or knowledge--is their idea

of bliss. Hence in most theosophists, as in all Roman Catholic converts,

you find this note of immaturity and monopoly. I say _converts_, because

those born in the Roman Catholic faith are on different ground. Their

spiritual life may grow and develop in spite of the creed limitations

into which Fate has cast them, but those who deliberately _choose_ such

limitations give the best possible proof of their own standpoint. And

the same may be said also of all strict creed religions.

They have their great and valuable uses, as prison bars have their uses

in a community which has not learnt to respect the rights and property

of its neighbours.

Withdraw these bars and you let loose upon society a pestilential crew

of murderers and marauders. Relax the bars of creed and you will find

the same result. But as bars are not necessary for the advanced souls

who recognise that to murder or defraud their fellow-creatures leads to

their own misery, apart from any detection or punishment, so creeds are

not necessary, under a corresponding evolution of the spiritual

instinct, which tallies with the social and moral instincts noted above.

And as treadmills and oakum picking can be dismissed in the one case, so

can much of the theological machinery for the discipline and punishment

of sinners against spiritual laws be dispensed with, in the case of

those who are, spiritually speaking, _coming of age_.

They come then into the full liberty of Sons of God, and shall be no

more treated as servants, _but as sons_, as the Apostle puts it.

This brings me to my special subject.

There are many things of great and transcending interest which we are

obliged to keep secret from our younger children, partly because they

would fail to understand, but still more because they would

_misunderstand_, and this to their own hurt and disadvantage; not to

speak of possible injury to others through them.

Spiritual Evolution is the true Doctrine, but it is not food for babes

in spiritual life.

To have an unlimited series of advancing lives and advancing experiences

unfolded before their eyes would not only dismay and bewilder, but would

also paralyse their energy for good, and terribly augment their capacity

for evil--for the _not good_.

Until they are sufficiently versed in spiritual experience to realise

the difference between purity and impurity, good and evil, God and the

world, fame and peace, pleasure and happiness, the peace which passes

understanding and the false glamour of sensual passion and sensuous

self-indulgence, so long it is dangerous for them to know, with absolute

certainty, the real facts of the case.

Even the terrible and abhorrent pictures of an Eternal Hell, of endless

flames and of undying worms, have had their uses.

In this form alone could the thoroughly immature mind be made to realise

the discomfort and misery that would inevitably attend wrong-doing. It

_was_ a truth, although not a literal truth. Many literal truths convey

a false impression to the immature mind, whilst a symbolic truth may

convey as true an impression as such a mind is capable of receiving.

The old ideas of Heaven and Hell are already doomed; but other ideas,

equally untrue from the literal point of view, still hold their own, and

will be more slowly eradicated. It is well this should be so. The world

at large is not prepared yet to take this further step.

Frequent examinations have been found useful and inevitable in school

training, both as a test of progress and still more as an encouragement.

If you tell a school of boys and girls in January that a grand

examination will be held the following December, do you suppose they

will work as well and as diligently as if they knew there will be short

examinations at Easter and more important ones at midsummer?

Again, if you tell boys of ten years old, who are learning a little

history, geography, and arithmetic, just in the Rule of Three and simple

fractions, with perhaps a little Latin; of the Algebra and Euclid and

Conic sections and higher Mathematics, and Latin and Greek verse and

Hebrew and Philosophy, which they must some day confront, you will

puzzle and paralyse their brains, and leave only a sense of misery and

revolt and helplessness, which will quickly show forth in reckless

despair, even concerning the tasks which are well within their present

capacity.

God, in His Infinite Wisdom (of which ours is the feeblest reflection),

acts in precisely the same way as wise fathers and wise teachers.

Your earth is more or less of an infant school, but before leaving it,

some of you must prepare for the higher classes and learn to take your

own spiritual responsibilities.

It is seen that in these days of reaction and readjustment, many minds

are puzzled and perplexed by the old doctrines, which they have

outgrown, and which were never more than the outer husk and protection

for the inner kernel--the casket for the jewel of spiritual truth.

The one term of probation--the one chance for progress--the immediate

Heaven or Hell--the Great White Throne of Judgment, instant and

inevitable--all these correspond with the frequent examinations, with

the good and bad marks--the judging of the school work at the end of

each term. The only difference lies in the fact that the schoolboy

_knows_ he has other terms in front of him, and we are all aware that

this is a very unfortunate fact where an idle boy is concerned.

How often you may hear them say: "Never mind! I'm a bit behind now--but

I have three years more--I shall catch up later." And this is probably

just what they fail to do; for with such characters it is always

_to-morrow_ that is to see the reformation which so often comes only

when life has taught its hard lessons to the defaulter.

Is it not apparent, therefore, that there has been wisdom and goodness

in our very theological mistakes and illusions?

The opposition to spiritualistic teachings has its good and healthy

side. It is really the fierce antagonism of the undeveloped nature

towards a truth it dimly apprehends to be ahead of its own development;

and, tiresome as it seems, and _is_ from one point of view, it is the

best safeguard for the world at large.

Unimaginable horrors would come to pass upon the earth were Power as

well as Knowledge put into the hands of the crude and undeveloped.

It would be arming savages with Winchester rifles and quick-firing guns.

_Never regret_, therefore, this opposition, even whilst fighting against

it in individual cases.

Both _must_ grow together till the Harvest--the Tares and Wheat, the

Crude and the Developed--and the former are the enormous majority.

This is the reason why all Truth must be born into each world through a

fight and an agony; for it always comes as an advance upon normal

conditions, no matter in which sphere it may be. And it is through the

struggle that the Victory comes and the Light is born.

Let people jeer and deride when they hear of a future life, not so very

different from your own; of houses and lectures and boats and horses, of

pet animals, and so forth.

Those who jeer and deride or talk of blasphemy are still at the orthodox

stage, when it is well for them to know only of _one_ school, of _one_

term, of _one_ chance, and of an immediate and final judgment for the

deeds done on earth.

Others are old enough (spiritually speaking) to know the truth

_i.e._--that GOD is in _all_, of an infinite series of spheres, through

which each travelling soul must pass, gaining ever fresh light, growing

ever into fresh knowledge and realisation of Divine Beauty and Divine

Love; spheres differing little externally from the one left behind, but

enormously in the capacities and qualities which by degrees the soul

will unfold in the Cosmic Journey.

The outer will become more and more the result of the inner condition;

for the creative faculty, scarcely born with you, flourishes in the

ascending spiral. Down here you are babes, with your clothes made for

you, your bottles filled for you, and dependent on others for the

conditions of life, but by degrees you will enter on the full

responsibility and the full joy and glory of independent existence,

which yet will be unified--first into the life of the Affinities--the

True and completed Being--and then into the life of that Body of

_Christ_, of which St Paul speaks in his prophetic moments, where "there

shall be neither Greek nor Jew, Barbarian, Scythian, Bond nor Free," but

_Christos_, the glorified and crowned Humanity, shall be all in all--GOD

IN MAN; the coping-stone of the Building, whose foundations were laid as

MAN (the Image and Likeness of God) IN GOD.