All the events of my life passed before my inner vision like a panorama, and I saw myself as others saw me,—the victim of wasted energies and an ill-spent life. How keenly did I regret much that I had done, and much more that I might have done, but did not! It was then and there, while seemingly unconscious to mortal things, I began to fully realize that omission is oftentimes as great a sin as commission,—that inactivity is as disastrous to the spirit as misplaced volition.
At this time, I did not see the forms and faces of any of those I had loved, and whom it might be supposed would be first at the death-bed of one so near to them. These forms and phantoms that surrounded me were encompassed by a cloud of heavy vapor, that entirely veiled the horizon from my sight. I strove to turn from them, but could not; they hedged me in on every side, and, while they spake no word, they seemed to mock me with their taunting looks and gestures.
This was my first spirit experience. I have since learned that it consisted entirely of the reflection of past recollections upon my mind, but it was extremely annoying and unpleasant.
My next experience was standing by myself, outside of my physical body, alone, so far as I could see, gazing down upon the old, worn-out tenement, that I had recently vacated. I found myself clothed in a body precisely similar to the one I had left, and not in much better condition, apparently. I was perplexed and bewildered; for, though spurning many of the old theologic notions of the Hereafter, this was certainly not the fulfillment of my conceptions of a future life.
I gazed around, hoping to attract the attention of some one who could give me an explanation, or in the expectation of meeting my boon companions; but all in vain,—I could see no one. All was misty, or rather in a smoky fog, like the streets of London at midday, though I have since been informed that I was not alone; that there were loving, helping spirits watching over me, to assist me when possible, but my mental condition prevented me from perceiving them; and that the smoky vapor was an emanation from my own spirit, and did not proceed from the state of the atmosphere.
While ruminating to myself, as collectedly as my condition would allow, I observed a party of individuals approach and take a view of my remains; and what appeared very curious to me, while they seemed very far away from me, I could distinctly hear their remarks. These parties were mortals, still dwelling on earth, drawn by a morbid kind of interest to take a final view of my body. However, I would they had stayed away, for they did my spirit more harm than good.
“Poor devil,” said one, “he’s gone at last. Well, he made a wreck of himself, sure enough.”
“Aye,” replied another; “he might have done better, but he would not; and so he’s gone. I always knew how it would turn out.”
“With all his singing and dreaming,” remarked a third, “he was no better than the rest of us. The old one would show himself pretty often.”
“That’s so,” chimed in the fourth; “wilt thee look at him now, lying there, when he might have been alive and well, like the rest of us! Well, he’s gone to his account now, poor lad!”