I have seen spirits whose earthly condition was one of prosperity and grandeur,—those in whom a sense of worldly ambition and aggrandizement overcame every other consideration in their minds; whose hearts became haughty and arrogant; whose lives grew morbidly selfish beneath the desire for personal gratification and the greed of gain. Primarily, their motives for action were laudable; but as they grew in worldly influence, power, and grandeur, the stifling atmosphere of this condition effectually pressed out all emotions and aspirations higher than those for earthly affluence, authority, and ambition.
I find the conditions of such spirits to be most unattractive yet pitiable. Deprived of their power and influence, unable to wield that authority which once belonged to them, powerless to attract the homage and laudation of the world in which they formerly lived and moved, longing for the things of material life which they cannot grasp with satisfaction, unfamiliar with things, conditions, and customs of spiritual life, they are restless and unhappy indeed.
The things for which these beings crave belong to the material plane alone, and they are constantly attracted back to this sphere of life. But they have not the authority and power they once possessed. Coming in contact with the very individuals who once fawned upon and bowed down to them, these spirits are yet unable to make any impression upon their minds. The invisible ones speak what they believe to be loud words of authority and dignity; but they are unheeded, even unheard, by the mortal to whom they are addressed. Even should the spirits succeed in expressing their identity and in giving utterance to their thoughts through the lips of a trance medium, they will remain as unnoticed by those for whom they are intended as is the faint flutterings of a leaflet blown hither and thither by the autumn wind, even if they are not scoffed at or scorned by those individuals who once were wont to bow down in servile awe before a scrap of paper bearing the name that is given by the returning spirit. Imagine the unhappy, restless condition of such a spirit, and you will understand something of that peculiar, self-tormenting state which in former times was typified to mankind as a lake of fire and brimstone.
WORLDLY SUCCESS OFTEN A MISFORTUNE.
Picture to yourselves a man who has been full of energy and power, successful in every undertaking, prosperous in business, influential in his walks of life,—one recognized for great executive ability and dispatch, bowed down and even toadied to by a multitude; one having a large class of human beings in his employ and under his dominion, to whom he is the autocrat upon all questions pertaining to their comfort, even existence itself. The note of this individual is recognized and accepted on all sides; his lightest word is law, and he has only to speak to be immediately obeyed.
A man wielding such authority, and delighting in it, is always ambitious and arrogant; he is held in fear by those under his charge, who endeavor to cajole him into some degree of mercy even while secretly despising him. This power, grandeur, prosperity, and worldly influence has been gained by the potency of a domineering, masterful will; but at the expense of the interior nature, which is stripped of all adornments and barren of those fruitful conditions necessary to the happiness and peace of spirits.
Such a man passes from the body. With the temple of clay he is shorn of all his power, grandeur, influence, and wealth; for such as he had were of the earth, temporal in their character and perishable. But the qualities of his mind are still his; the energy of his nature has not departed, the positive will-force does not desert him; he remains ambitious still. He does not become an imbecile or an idiot, therefore he is capable of realizing all that he has lost; but he has not yet learned that those things were unworthy an immortal soul, and that there is something of inestimable value to the spirit that may yet be acquired. He is in the condition that a strong, passionate man on earth would be in who had lost all that was dearest to him. At times, he is violent in the expression of his emotions, again he sinks into the apathy of despair; frequently he returns to earth, seeking to command attention, and to force obedience to his behests, and occasionally he endeavors to burst asunder the conditions that surround him.
Ask such a spirit as this of the beauties of the immortal life, and he will declare there are none,—that nature there is sterile and barren, that only damp clouds and fogs are to be seen, that rugged rocks and stones compose the roads, that the dwellings are uncomfortable and confining, and that the inhabitants are uncongenial and inhospitable. The truth is, this person is so enwrapped in the murky atmosphere of his own being, so chilled by the restless, combatant elements of his own mind, so torn by conflicting emotions, that he cannot see beyond the shadowy outline of his own selfish nature; and whatever object or person comes into the line of his vision becomes colored or darkened by the greyness of his own life, and presents an appearance corresponding to the conditions by which he is confined.
EARTHLY CONDITIONS CONTINUED IN SPIRIT LIFE.
There are many such beings in that immortal life—men and women—who have not yet outgrown the conditions belonging to the physical existence. The intensity of the will-force with these persons is so powerful when applied in any direction that it is difficult to detach it from the object in view, and to direct it to and through other channels of expression. Hence the positive, ambitious, energetic man of the world, who pursues his own business and pleasure, regardless of the rights and privileges of others, remains the same grasping, exacting individual after passing out of the body. Men and women, once of fashion and wealth, autocratic and haughty in their demeanor,—some of them rulers and sovereigns over multitudes,—have remained in a sphere of unhappiness for many years. Wrapping the pride of their selfishness around them, they have dwelt in a condition of cold and darkness, the chill and shadows of which were but emanations from their own lives, until at last they have grown weary and have stretched their hands upward in search of light and warmth.