The Astral World—Higher Occult Powers / Clairvoyance, Spiritism, Mediumship, and Spirit-Healing Fully Explained

by Joel Tiffany

That which constitutes me a conscious being does not differ from that which constitutes you conscious beings. So far as the element of consciousness itself is concerned—so far as it enters into the mind—it is the same in every individual. Your individuality or mine does not consist in the fact that we are conscious, and possess in ourselves a consciousness, but it consists in that of which we are conscious. That which causes me to differ from you is that which comes into a certain relation to that consciousness.

This conscious principle within the spirit, whether in the body or out of it, is the Divine principle. It is to this spirit what the sun is to the natural universe. It is the light and the heat of the Divine sun shining within the individual, revealing him to himself; so that if we become familiar with this first proposition, so that we understand one another, our deductions will flow naturally, and we can understand perfectly whether we are on the side of truth or not. Understand, then, that it is not the fact that you possess a consciousness within you, which causes you to differ from me and every other being. We are all alike in that respect. But when that consciousness begins to shine out into your individuality, and look after your thoughts and affections which have arisen out of your individual development, and which have grown out of individual relations peculiar to yourself, then this conscious light and conscious heat, this conscious understanding and affection within you, begins to reveal to you your individual selfhood—that which constitutes you an individual being separate from all other individual beings. That which pertains to my character pertains to my character as an individual being.

This individual affection which distinguishes me from you belongs to my exterior or outer consciousness. So then, when I speak of character, I speak not of this inmost principle which has never changed, and never can change, but will live on unchanged, because self-existent and self-sufficient—not of the God within—the Divine breath living in the soul—but of that which is exterior of that which derives its life, understanding, and perception from the light which this absolute consciousness throws out. That which pertains to my character enters into my individual and finite selfhood; and it is by what is found there that I am to judge myself, and the world is to judge me. If you were to come to my inmost character, you would then come at the absolute and infinite which exists in me and in every other individual, without which man could not be a conscious being at all. Separate man from this conscious consciousness, and he would cease to exist. It is by the harmonizing of his finite perception with the infinite perception that he lives in God and God in him. All there is of life, of conscious being, is but a reflection of this absolute consciousness; just as the light of the moon is but the reflection of the light of the sun. Extinguish your sun, and your moon could give you no light. Separate man from this absolute consciousness, and he would have no finite consciousness. Then that which constitutes you and me conscious beings here and hereafter is not this absolute conscious principle within, but that which comes into unceasing relation to it, by which we are made conscious of that which is.

I have thought, feeling, and affection, which pertain to me as a finite physical being; and I am made aware of that thought, that feeling, and that affection by the presence of this absolute principle within me; but at the same time they do not take their character from this absolute consciousness. Hence we hear persons talk about forming characters. But character is to be considered in a double sense. All possess this inmost character, and hence it is said that every individual in his inmost is divine. But that Divinity, that God within him by which he lives, and without which he could not live, constitutes no part of his individual selfhood. It is the Jehovah in the soul, by which he is revealed to himself. That character in man, I grant, never changes.

It is the external individual character to which I wish to call attention in a special manner. Now that character which makes me an individual being, and by which I become wise or foolish, good or bad, true or false, is constantly undergoing changes, and is developed under laws growing out of relations which I sustain to material and spiritual things and influences which operate upon me from both the natural and spiritual plane. This finite character is the one by which I am to be judged.

I wish to examine man in his relations to the present and the future, and ascertain, if possible, how much of this finite character will continue with him after he enters the Spirit-world, because upon this point there is a great diversity of opinion. It is really one of the vital points of Spiritualism. How, then, is this external individual character unfolded? It depends upon the ruling love in the individual, as well as upon his intelligence or perception. We know that the individual dwelling in selfish lust unfolds his selfish character by doing that which he thinks will furnish him self-gratification, and we determine his character by the character of the impulse which governs him. The individual who has known no higher impulse than this desire for self-gratification, finds it impossible to conceive that a person can act from a higher impulse; but one who has experienced in himself a higher and purer impulse than that which looks after self-gratification, can easily understand how it is that men and women can act from higher impulses; but still he may not be able to understand how they can act from an incorruptible Divine love—love in its infinity, in its spontaneity, going forth of its own Divine fullness, and bestowing blessings upon all who come within its sphere.

If we look out into society, we see individuals living down in the lower departments of their nature. We wish to reform them and mankind, and talk about Spiritualism doing wonderful things for the world, by way of breaking off the chains of superstition which have bound people down in ignorance; we talk about its removing that superstitious bigotry which causes one man to persecute another for not thinking as he does. We expect it is going to diffuse a liberalizing influence, and thus reform the world. What do you mean when you speak of Spiritualism reforming the world? You mean that it is going to change the characters of those living in it. You thus virtually affirm that this external character that pertains to you, and me, and all others, is the subject of change. We understand, then, that your hope for the reformation of the world is based upon the expectation that the individual character shall be changed. And how are you to change that character? You hope to change the character of the unfortunate female, and place her upon a higher and purer platform, by changing her ruling love, correcting her false opinions and false understandings—by having a purer affection to govern her, and a higher understanding to direct her. You hope to cause her to walk more in harmony with her highest destiny. To persuade the inebriate to give up his cups, you desire to create in him a love and respect for the welfare of mankind—to implant in him a ruling influence which shall elevate his character.

When you look at yourselves even, you see that your character is undergoing a change. When a boy, there were certain kinds of amusements in which I took delight. Moral and religious exercises were nothing compared with my hoop, top, etc.; but when I became a man, and began to be manly in my aspirations, my character had changed. So it has been with us all. That within us which we call character, we suppose must be forever subject to change. Each of us as we progress, hopes to change, to become wiser, better, purer. He who boasts that he has never changed his opinion, virtually says that he has not progressed. He who claims that he feels as he did twenty years ago, boasts of his own shame. Our hope to progress implies our expectation of change from that which is false to that which is more true—implies a change of this external changing principle within us, which constitutes our individual character—our finite selfhood.

The question arises whether we shall take this distinguishing character with us into the Spiritual world. We need not be left to conjecture here, if we will only enter into a philosophical examination of what will constitute our character. You see clearly, that what constitutes you an individual being here, is that which is external to the absolute consciousness within, and that when you lose this, you lose your individuality—that if it should be absorbed, your individuality would be gone, and you would be taken up by the principle of general absorption, and would cease to be as an individual being. But when you understand that that which constitutes you a spiritual selfhood pertains to your thoughts, your understandings, and affections, and that nothing outside of your understanding enters into that selfhood, in which you live, and by which you know yourself, you will perceive that if you do not take that with you to the Spiritual world, you will take nothing with you that is yours. If you leave that behind you, or so change it as to make it represent another and not yourself, as a matter of course, when you go to the Spiritual world, you do not go there.

The idea has obtained to a considerable extent, that this material body is the cause of our lusts, passions, and appetites, and that these will die with it. It is my opinion, however, that the body, so far as the matter itself is concerned, does no more to degrade us or injure us in any wise, morally, than does the matter composing any other material substance. It has only become an instrument receptive of certain conditions, as the horse-shoe magnet has become receptive of certain magnetic conditions. We talk about the attraction of the magnet as though the attraction were in the iron. But the attraction is between the positive and negative conditions, which are present in the iron; and when your bring the different parts of the iron together, you bring the conditions which they contain into proximity, between which the attraction exists. So it is with this material body; it is made receptive of conditions. The matter entering into this body needs to go through a certain process, after it is taken from the rock, before it is fit to enter into the human system, because the matter which enters into the mineral kingdom undergoes a certain change by which it is fitted for the vegetable structure; and is then brought into a certain relation by another principle by which it becomes receptive of another condition, which other condition is essential to it if it would enter into or become receptive of the essential condition. So that the particle of matter passing through the vegetable kingdom passes through it for the purpose of being made receptive of a higher condition; and when it passes into the animal it has come into relation to another power, called the nerve-power, with which it was not in relation when in the vegetable kingdom. It is brought under the influence of this nerve-power, and made receptive of another principle. And thus one particle of matter, in passing from the mineral up to the animal kingdom, goes through that elaborating process, simply because by being brought into relation with certain media it becomes receptive of certain higher conditions of which it was not before receptive. The conditions do not change the character of the matter at all. They pertain rather to the spiritual than the material department of this being; so that when my body is brought to a certain condition of development, it becomes receptive by a sort of induction of new conditions. Certain relations are established between my body and spirit. My body depends upon certain things for nourishment, and my spirit depends upon my body for certain assistance. These relations make my body subject to a law of consciousness; but that law of consciousness does not pertain to my body. My body is but the instrument by which that consciousness is acted upon from the external world. When I experience pain in my finger from placing it in the fire, it is not my finger that smarts, but there is a consciousness in my mind which experiences the pain, from the report of nerves which come to the surface in my finger. Separate these nerves, and I may hold my hand in the fire without feeling the least pain; yet if the finger were pained, it should feel as much after the nerves were separated as before. Though the sensation appears to be at that point, it is after all in the mind. The body is but an instrument by which sensations of a peculiar character reach the mind. Those who have had arms amputated, have experienced pain seemingly in the fingers at times in consequence of the exposure and irritation of the nerves which go to the hand. It is sometimes conjectured that they have spiritual fingers, but it is not so. There are instances of persons experiencing pain seemingly in the toes, after the leg has been amputated. This is in consequence of the exposure and irritation of the nerves which go to the foot. Furthermore, the individual who has been mesmerized—who has had his mind separated from the sensuous influences of his body—may have his body dissected to pieces without experiencing any pain, notwithstanding the least injury done to the person who is in rapport with him will be instantaneously felt, as though the sensation were in himself. He can not be reached through his nerve-system, but you can reach him through the nerve-system of the operator, whose mental condition is impressed upon him. The sensation, however, is in his mind, not in his body, notwithstanding he locates it as though it were in his body. Numerous other proofs might be adduced to prove that though the body is the means through which the mind is reached, yet the sensation is all in the mind. Man makes use of his body for the gratification of all his sensuous desires; all of which originate in the mind. I do not deny, however, that a sense of lack, not pain and disease, may be induced in the body by certain courses of action—by disturbing the nervous system. But that is a thing entirely of itself. But there are other influences originating in the mind, leading the individual to seek gratification in horse-racing, gaming, sexual indulgences, etc. In ten thousand instances the stimulating influences to various acts arise in the mind, and form a part of the mind. In the majority of instances the body is simply made the instrument for the gratification of lustful desires. Did the usual habits of thought permit, it might be demonstrated, in various ways, that lustful desires originate in the impure condition of the spirit.