“I know that only with the greatest difficulty shall I be enabled to express to you my sensations when I fully realized that I had awakened to a new life. All was still, no sound broke the silence. Darkness had surrounded me. In fact, I seemed to be enveloped in a heavy mist, beyond which my gaze could not penetrate. Soon in the distance I discerned a faint glimmer of light, which slowly approached me, and then, to my wonder and joy, I beheld the face of her who had been my guiding star in the early days of my earth life.”
One of the saddest sights witnessed by the seer at a death-bed is the tortures to which we often subject our dying friends on account of ignorance of how to care for them in that condition. We have a science of birth; obstetricians who have been trained for years in their profession and have developed a wonderful skill, assist the little stranger into this world. We have also trained nurses attendant upon mother and child, the ingenuity of brilliant minds is focused upon the problem of how to make maternity easier, neither pains nor money are spared in these beneficent efforts for one whom we have never seen, but when the friend of a lifetime, the man who has served his kind well and nobly in profession, state, or church, is to leave the scene of his labors for a new field of activity, when the woman—who has labored to no less good purpose in bringing up a family to take its part in the world's work—has to leave that home and family, when one whom we have loved all our lives is about to bid us the final farewell, we stand by utterly at a loss how to help; perhaps we even do the very things most detrimental to the comfort and welfare of the departing one.
Probably there is no form of torture more commonly inflicted upon the dying than that which is caused by administering stimulants. Such potions have the effect of drawing a departing spirit into its body with the force of a catapult, to remain and to suffer for sometime longer. Investigators of conditions beyond have heard many complaints of such treatment. When it is seen that death must inevitably ensue, let not selfish desire to keep a departing spirit a little longer prompt us to inflict such tortures upon it. The death chamber should be a place of the utmost quiet, a place of peace and of prayer, for at that time, and for three and one-half days after the last breath, the spirit is passing through a Gethsemane and needs all the assistance that can be given. The value of the life that has just been passed depends greatly upon conditions which then prevail about the body; yes even the conditions of its future life are influenced by our attitude during that time, so that if ever we were our brother's keeper in life, we are a thousand times more so at death.
Post-mortem examinations, embalming and cremation during the period mentioned, not only disturb the passing spirit mentally, but [pg 153] are productive of a certain amount of pain, for there is still a slight connection with the discarded vehicle. If sanitary laws require us to prevent decomposition while thus keeping the body for cremation, it may be packed in ice till the three and one-half days have passed. After that time the spirit will not suffer, no matter what happens to the body.
The Panorama of a Past Life.
No matter how long we may keep the spirit from passing out however, at last there will come a time when no stimulant can hold it and the last breath is drawn. Then the silver cord, of which the Bible speaks, and which holds the higher and the lower vehicles together, snaps in the heart and causes that organ to stop. That rupture releases the vital body, and that with the desire body and mind float above the visible body for from one to three and one-half days while the spirit is engaged in reviewing the past life, an exceedingly important part of its post-mortem experience. Upon that review depends its whole existence from death to a new birth.
The question may arise in the student's mind: How can we review our past life from [pg 154] the cradle to the grave when we do not even remember what we did a month ago, and to form a proper basis for our future life, this record ought to be very accurate, but even the best memory is faulty? When we understand the difference between the conscious and sub-conscious memory and the manner in which the latter operates, the difficulty vanishes. This difference and the manner in which the sub-conscious memory keeps an accurate record of our life experiences may be best understood by an illustration, as follows: When we go into a field and view the surrounding landscape, vibrations in the ether carry to us a picture of everything within the range of our vision. It is as sad as it is true however, that “we have eyes and see not,” as the Savior said. These vibrations impinge upon the retina of our eyes, even to the very smallest details, but they usually do not penetrate to our consciousness, and therefore are not remembered. Even the most powerful impressions fade in course of time so that we cannot call them back at will when they are stored in our conscious memory.
When a photographer goes afield with his camera the results which he obtains are different. [pg 155] The ether vibrations emanating from all things upon which his camera is focused, transmit to the sensitive plate an impression of the landscape true to the minutest detail, and, mark this well, this true and accurate picture is in no wise dependent upon whether the photographer is observant or not. It will remain upon the plate and may be reproduced under proper conditions. Such is the subconscious memory, and it is generated automatically by each of us during every moment of time, independently of our volition, in the following manner.
From the first breath which we draw after birth to our last dying gasp, we inspire air which is charged with pictures of our surroundings, and the same ether which carries that picture to the retina of our eye, is inhaled into our lungs where it enters the blood. Thus it reaches the heart in due time. In the left ventricle of that organ, near the apex, there is one little atom which is particularly sensitized, and which remains in the body all through life. It differs in this respect from all other atoms which come and go, for it is the particular property of God, and of a certain spirit. This atom may be called the book of the Recording Angel, for [pg 156] as the blood passes through the heart, cycle after cycle, the pictures of our good and evil acts are inscribed thereon to the minutest detail. This record may be called the sub-conscious memory. It forms the basis of our future life when reproduced as a panorama just subsequent to death. By removal of the seed atom—which corresponds to the sensitized plate in a camera,—the reflecting ether of the vital body serves as a focus, and as the life unrolls slowly backwards from death to birth the pictures thereof are etched into the desire body which will be our vehicle during our sojourn in purgatory and the first heaven where evil is eradicated and good assimilated, so that in a future life the former may serve as conscience to withhold the man from repeating mistakes of the past, and the latter will spur us to greater good.