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

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Title: The Astral World—Higher Occult Powers - Clairvoyance, Spiritism, Mediumship, and Spirit-Healing Fully Explained
Author: Tiffany, Joel
Language: English
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The Astral World

HIGHER OCCULT POWERS
_Clairvoyance, Spiritism, Mediumship, and
Spirit-Healing Fully Explained_

JOEL TIFFANY

INTRODUCTION BY PHENIX

_Third Edition_

de LAURENCE, SCOTT & COMPANY
CHICAGO, ILL., U. S. A.
1910

_Title Page_

de LAURENCE, SCOTT & CO.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page
Introduction v

Chapter

I.—On the Determination of Truth 17

II.—The Sphere of Lust 38

III.—The Second, or Relational Sphere 61

IV.—Communication 76

V.—Philosophy of Progression 99

VI.—Mediumship 115

VII.—Mediumship—Spiritual Healing 130

VIII.—Condition of the Spirit in the Spirit-World 146

IX.—Organization—Individualization 160

X.—What Constitutes the Spirit 171

XI.—Lust 187

XII.—Marriage—Free Love 206

INTRODUCTION

The relations of man to his God have occupied the first minds of every
age, but without rendering those relations so understandable to the
mass of mankind as to be admitted as true. It has been evident to many,
although not to all, that some minds so engaged have been inspired to
write beyond the current knowledge of their day, indeed to foretell
truths which could only be recognized as such after centuries of
progression.

The natural propensity of the human mind in the exercise of its
ingenuity has been constantly developing in the endeavor to theorize
upon the writings of these inspired authors, so as to present an
entire system for the consideration of man. Each of these systems so
proposed has passed away, from the fact that it carried with it the
elements of its own destruction, itself not arising purely from the
absolute, and therefore subject to the analysis of progressed mind,
and by such analysis found wanting. Those theories which might have
seemed compatible with the ability to adjudge truth in the middle
ages, were not truths to the more progressed minds of later times;
so that truth, except to absolute consciousness, may be considered,
when subject to the test of human comprehension, as not absolute even
to such comprehension, except in degree, and that varying with the
continued progression of the recipient. Thus the best minds at this
time willingly admit that the writer of Job was inspired—that he wrote
truths beyond the comprehension of more than a thousand years beyond
his time. One instance of this may be thus stated:

To Galileo and Copernicus we have attributed the discovery of the fact
that the world is round; and yet the writer of the Book of Job, who
wrote a thousand years before them, tells us that the earth is round,
that its north is frigid, that the waters are divided by the dry
land, where the day becomes night, and the night becomes day—clearly
indicating that the continents are twelve hours apart, and that the
earth must revolve to enable the relative position of its parts to the
sun to give the phenomena now so well understood.

Plato was an inspired man. He wrote on the soul, far in advance of
his day; and it is only a progressed mind at this time that can read
and comprehend his views. With Plato, all admit that his normal
progression might have been equal to the observance of the results of
his inspiration. But the writer of the Book of Job could never have
seen an ocean. He could not have known of the existence of another
continent, and the sciences collateral to his text could not have
rendered him the didactic aid which would have been necessary to have
made him cognizant, in his normal condition, of the truths he uttered;
and, therefore, it is at least possible, if not probable, that these
truths were directly the result of inspiration, as much beyond his
own comprehension as beyond the comprehension of others. Indeed, even
at the present day, thousands of students of theology have read Job
without perceiving that he had fore-run Galileo and Copernicus in
their supposed discoveries.

It is not to be wondered at, then, that modern Spiritualism and its
truths, if credited to the source from which they are supposed to be
derived, should be found to present truths not understood as such by
every mind; and, notwithstanding its million converts, it seems to have
embraced but few minds capable of presenting in a didactic form these
truths. The various writers on the subject have rather spoken of its
curiosities than its use; and we know of no book capable of instructing
and satisfying even a progressed mind on either the precise use or
exact advantages arising from a full belief in Spiritualism.

This task has been most fearlessly performed by Joel Tiffany, Esq. He
brought to the work a vigorous and original mind. A long course of
legal practice had peculiarly adapted him to the task, particularly as
an investigator of truth. His own progression was such as to enable him
to advantage by his former practice, while his mediative power gave him
intuitive advantage seldom combined in the same individual. His course
of lectures seems to be suited to the precise wants of the day. It is
true that they are not calculated for the use of the novice, but they
are the only source we know of at this time by which those who have
passed through the curiosity-phase of the subject of Spiritualism are
enabled to review their observations and apply them usefully to their
own progression. All those properties of the mind known as _adjective_
in common parlance, requiring the assistance of the observation of
others to render them substantive, are clearly defined by Mr. Tiffany.

His analysis of mind, when properly understood, enables all the truths
he has set forth to be read understandingly; in other words he gives
the _modus_ by which we may determine truths at least equal to the
progressed condition of man at this time to comprehend.

The Sphere of Lust, that greatest bar to man’s progression, both in
its analysis and synthesis, is placed within his comprehension, and
hence his power of avoidance is materially increased. The fabled
terrors of Hades, Sheol, Tartarus, and Gehenna are defined so as to be
comprehended by an ordinary individual, while the relational sphere of
man is so treated as to enable each reader to define his own position,
and those below him, sufficiently well to assist in his aspirations for
higher exercise.

Communication and Progression are fearlessly treated, and the
master-mind is observable in all the collateral incidents of thought
consequent upon their investigation.

Mediumship is rendered understandable to all, and those phases which
have been unproductive of good results to minds not elevated beyond
the consideration consequent upon the morbid appetites of the curious,
are fairly depicted so as to enable the investigator to avoid their
recurrence, and to progress beyond their painful influences.

Mr. Tiffany has judiciously failed to cater to the tastes of those who
but magnify Kings to conceive of Gods. He has presented the Deity, or
the consideration of the Deity, to the minds of his audience, in such
a manner as to call forth the highest feelings of the soul for the
comprehension of the highest truth.

The condition of the Spirit in the Spirit-world, as portrayed by him,
is freed from the melo-dramatic condition in which it has been painted
by the fashionable and various theologians of the day. The character
of those Spirits is shown to be in accordance with the great law of
God—Progression.

While we freely admit the usefulness and beauty of many works written
on abstract phases of Spiritualism, we can not but perceive a want
of continuity in their didactic character; and from the point where
the mind admits a future state of existence to the supposed character
of that existence and the proper preparation of the Spirit while in
the form for entering upon such a condition, we can not but observe
that no work preceding these Lectures by Mr. Tiffany has met the
demand. A careful reading of these Lectures, we are confident, will
elevate and instruct every Spiritualist. It will enable him to review
his intuitions, and to find their true value. It will chasten his
confidence in communications which are not self-evident as truths, and
improve his power to comprehend these truths.

We ask the reader to peruse the following pages no more rapidly than
he can clearly comprehend them. Every proposition is worthy his best
thought and highest power of study; and if he follows them with the
same pure aspiration that seems to imbue their author, he will rise
from their consideration a wiser and a better man.

PHENIX.

THE ASTRAL WORLD HIGHER OCCULT POWERS

CHAPTER I.

ON THE DETERMINATION OF TRUTH.

In commencing the investigation of Spiritualism, it becomes necessary
in the outset that we find some point from which to start, or to
commence our examination; for, in the inquiry after truth, we must
find some standard by which we can determine truth—for unless we have
that to which we can appeal to determine infallibly what is truth,
however much we may investigate, we shall always be uncertain as to the
accuracy of our conclusions.

Man, as a conscious being, endowed with the faculty of perceiving
being and existence, and also being susceptible to the influence
of that which he perceives, himself becomes the center of all his
investigations in the universe; and if there is any standard by which
to try truth, he must find that standard within his own consciousness.
Outside of man’s consciousness there is no standard to him of truth.

I will illustrate briefly what I mean, that you may perceive how I wish
to direct you in the investigation of the question, What is Truth? and
how shall it be determined? The science of mathematics is said to
be certain and demonstrative. And why is the science of mathematics
any more demonstrable than is any other science? Why is it that the
truth which it affirms can be any more positively demonstrated than
any other truth? Is it because number and quantity are more fixed and
certain than are qualities and attributes of being and existence?
Why is it that the affirmations of mathematics are more demonstrable
than the truths of any other science? I answer, that it is simply
owing to the mode of proceeding in our investigations. If we will
adopt the same process that we do in mathematics, we can have the
same certainty upon all other questions that come within the sphere
of man’s perceptions and affections. The mathematician comes down
into his own consciousness, and finds certain conscious affirmations
pertaining to number and quantity. He puts them down as truths not to
be disregarded, and calls them self-evident truths or axioms. They are
such affirmations of the consciousness as everybody must, per force,
admit to be true; and when he has obtained the affirmations of his
consciousness pertaining to number and quantity, he puts them down
as truths not to be disregarded. They are always true everywhere,
and under all circumstances, where number and quantity are to be
investigated. He assumes nothing to be true which conflicts with these
conscious affirmations of the soul. “Things equal to the same thing
are equal to one another” must be received as true throughout the wide
universe, so far as the mathematician investigates; and he allows
nothing to controvert that self-evident truth; and so of all other
affirmations. He allows nothing, in his investigations, to conflict
at all; and whatever does conflict, he affirms to be false. Then,
before he takes another step, he is very careful to fix upon accurate
definitions, so that we may know precisely what he means—may understand
exactly the scope of what he says. For instance, speaking of geometry,
he will say that it pertains to the measurement of extent, and extent
has three dimensions—length, breadth, and thickness. He next goes on
to give definitions of that which is necessary to bound space—tells
you what is a straight line, what a curved line, what is a plain
surface, what is a curved surface, etc. After having ascertained the
affirmations of the consciousness of the soul, in respect to number
and quantity, and having fixed accurately upon the definition of all
terms to be used, he then commences by demonstration, and will not go
one step faster than demonstration attends him—does not launch at all
into conjecture. He makes the relation between premises and conclusion
inevitable; and if there be not an inevitable relation, he does not
establish his proposition mathematically.

Now, what is true in respect to mathematics, is true in respect to
every other subject that may come before the mind. There are conscious
affirmations of the soul lying at the basis of all investigation; and
in these conscious affirmations of the soul is to be found the standard
by which to try the truth of whatever plane or sphere of thought. The
first point to be taken is to ascertain what are the affirmations of
the soul upon these points to be investigated. Our next step is to fix
upon certain definitions, so that we can always understand precisely
what we mean in our use of terms. Then we must see next that the
relation between premises and conclusion be always inevitable. There
must never be left any opportunity for the premises to be true and the
conclusion false. Then we shall always be certain of having the truth.

In investigating the science of mind and spirit, I propose to
pursue this mathematical course; and not attempt to argue any point
that is not capable of demonstration—that is not based upon the
absolute affirmation of the soul, conducted with reference to strict
definitions, and making the relation of premises and conclusion
inevitable. The reason of being thus particular is, that the greatest
confusion prevails, not only in respect to the subject of the New
Philosophy, or Spiritualism, but in respect to all subjects pertaining
to spiritual life. Man does not know precisely where to begin his
investigation. He does not seem to know precisely where he is certain
of any thing pertaining to spiritual existence, and thinks that it must
be all conjectural.

Now here is an affirmation which I believe every man in the audience
will agree to be an affirmation of every one’s consciousness, and
that it lies at the basis of all our investigation of this and every
other subject. (I will say further, that, if any individual in the
audience disagrees with me, he will confer a favor by manifesting that
disagreement at any time; because I wish to be exceedingly near to
you as a lecturer, and wish you to be exceedingly near to me, so that
there may be the most perfect freedom of intercourse of thought and
expression between us.)

Then the first affirmation of the consciousness is this: That the mind
can perceive nothing but its own consciousness, and that which is
inwrought into that consciousness.

Now I wish you to try that in every possible way, to see if be true.
We talk about getting information and forming ideas from subjects
outside of ourselves, as though it were independent of our minds.
My proposition is, that the mind can perceive nothing but its own
consciousness, and that which is inwrought into that consciousness;
and, furthermore, that its perception of being and existence will
be according as it is inwrought into its consciousness; and by no
possibility can it be anything else to the individual; and, as a
matter of course, if there be any standard anywhere by which to try
truth, and know that it is true, that standard must be inwrought into
the consciousness of the individual who has to apply it; and he will
apply it accordingly as it is inwrought into his consciousness. Now
is there any one that does not perceive that this is absolutely true?
Then receiving that as a truth which every mind affirms—it can not
suppose the contrary of it to be true—we must set down every thing
as false which conflicts with this proposition, no matter whether it
overthrows authority or not. Whatever conflicts with this self-evident
truth, or affirmation of universal consciousness, must be false.
Truth does not conflict with truth. You may be assured that falsehood
always exists where you find conflict and antagonism. It follows then,
that all there is of being or of existence in the universe that will
ever be known to you or me will be that which is inwrought into our
consciousness. It follows, as a matter of course, the universe can
be no larger and no more perfect, than it can be inwrought into our
consciousness; and it will be limited to us by our mental unfolding.
Hence it will necessarily follow, that different individuals who are
differently unfolded in the different departments of their intellectual
and perceptional natures, will perceive being and existence in very
different lights; and yet each will suppose that each sees it in the
same lights, until we begin to compare notes. There will be as many
different New Yorks as there are different minds to form images or
conceptions of New York. So there will be as many different mental
Earths or mental universes as there are minds to form conceptions
of our Earth and the universe; and each mind will have the Earth or
the universe fashioned into his own consciousness, and when it will
investigate, it will investigate that which is then fashioned therein,
and study it as fashioned there. It follows then, as a matter of
course, that when the image of the existence within our consciousness
corresponds to the actuality, that is, when the ideal in man
corresponds to the real in God, then man has the truth—not till then.
That is, when my perception of being and existence corresponds with
the being and existence, then I have the truth of being and existence.
But just so far as my idea or perception of being or existence
deviates from its actuality, just so far my impression is false. These
conclusions follow as a matter of necessity. Hence you and I will
learn at once, that the first lesson for us to learn in commencing the
study of the universe, is to learn ourselves. The very first volume
that is opened before us, is that which God has given us in giving
us a conscious being. Here we must commence our first lesson, because
every thing must be recorded in the pages of this volume. God can never
manifest any part of the universe or himself to us beyond the capacity
of the pages of this volume to receive that manifestation. It follows
then, as a matter of course, that truth can never be communicated by
authority; and when a man tells me that a certain thing is true upon
his authority, I can not receive it simply upon his statement. You will
understand that I distinguish between stating a truth and narrating a
fact. I may receive a statement of fact upon authority.

A man may tell me that there is such a place as London, and I believe
it; and I may form an idea respecting it; but the ideal London I
have in my mind is very far from being the real London—is very far
from being a representation of the real London. That is, the ideal
London which I have exists only in my mind, has no representative
corresponding in the outward matter-of-fact London. But when the
real London is brought into my consciousness, I have _the_ London.
Before, I had a sort of _a_ London. Now you will understand what is
meant by a difference between forming a conception of a fact and a
truth. Suppose I should say to you that the sum of the squares of the
two sides of a right-angled triangle is equal to the square of its
hypotenuse, you having faith in my capacity to determine truth will
say, “I will believe it as a fact; but I have no perception of its
truth—I have only your word for it.” Now your faith is not in the
truth of the proposition, but in my word. There is a truth there, but
you can not receive it upon my authority. The reception of it as a
truth depends upon your mind being unfolded to the plane of that truth.
The question then for us to settle is, whether the conception in our
minds corresponds to the actuality. If we have the means of determining
that it does correspond, then we have the means of determining that our
perception is true. The truth is the perception by the mind of that
which is. You may apply this rule to any sphere of investigation that
you please. Then let us begin with man as a microcosm of the universe,
and who is destined in his spiritual unfolding to be a microcosm of
all that is in the universe; in other words, whose mind here is to
begin to translate the universe into its consciousness. The universe
is a great book, which it is man’s business to read and translate into
his consciousness, so that the image within shall correspond to the
actuality without—so that he shall be a universe of himself—so that
the individual in his affection by that which is transferred also
becomes a divine, a god. “Is it not written in your law, I said ye are
gods?” Man is to become in his impulses and character like the divine
of the universe, so that he has not only all the wisdom, fact, and
principle, but all the affection of the universe, to wit, the divine
translated into his affection, so that in his outward form and inward
being he is a child of God, created in his image. Thus, so far as we
proceed day by day in translating the actual and real universe into the
perceptive and ideal in us, so fast are we unfolding and growing up
into knowledge; and when that knowledge is united with the truth and
affectional impulses converted into wisdom, we are made temples for the
in-dwelling of the divine spirit. It becomes us, then, to make use of
all means within our power to perceive this great volume that God has
opened before us, and given us the means of studying, translating into
our minds, and making our own. Looking at man, then, as a conscious
being, one that possesses the faculty of perceiving existence in all
its various modes of manifestation, and also of perceiving being
itself, thus having within himself that whereon God can write not only
the phenomena, but the law and science of being itself, let us become
free men, lovers of the truth, determined to be honest with ourselves
and the world, determined to know what can be known, and not to be
deceived either by our own appetites, passions, or lusts, or by the
influences that others may extend over us to turn away our minds from
earnestly and truthfully investigating all subjects. The mind that is
afraid to look upon the wide universe, to receive the image that God
would impress upon it every day and moment of his life, is denying the
birthright of his soul.

Man, as a conscious being, is the subject of three degrees of
conscious perception—he can be subject to no less and no more; and
being influenced by what he perceives—three degrees of affection. In
other words, there is laid the foundation for three spheres of thought
and three spheres of affection. He can possess no more—no less. Now
I am to demonstrate this to be true in such a way that every one of
you shall know its truth. I begin first to prove that these spheres
of knowledge and affection exist in you, because it is my business,
after having proved this—if I should succeed in proving it—to show
that in the wide universe there are but those same three spheres of
knowledge and those same three spheres of affection and love—no less
and no more; that man possesses within himself the elements of all
knowledge and affection that exist in the wide universe. Unless he did
possess these elements, he could not investigate the universe; for
he can only investigate that, the elements of which exist within his
consciousness. In the first place, man has that faculty by which he
perceives the mere phenomena of existence, or, in other words, he has
that department of conscious being which is addressed by what we call
the physical senses, the scope of which is to reveal to him facts and
phenomena in the material plane of existence. The physical senses can
only reveal to him the facts and phenomena. In this respect man differs
not at all from the animal, which possesses the same number of physical
senses, and is impressed by the same light that impresses man’s
senses—is subject to the same conditions. The law by which perception
is awakened in the consciousness is the same in the animal as in the
man. But man possesses also another element that is not content with
mere investigation, or mere observation of forms and phenomena. You see
this other nature is manifested in the little child, after he begins to
walk about and observe the forms of things. There are certain things he
can not ascertain by the use of the physical senses, and he asks his
parents for further information. If you will examine the philosophy
of asking questions, you will perceive that it is a means of gaining
information by the exercise of some faculties higher than the physical
senses. It is seeking for information that shall be applied to the
consciousness, that shall be represented by ideas that exist in the
mind. We may suppose that Sir Isaac Newton and his dog were sitting
in the orchard, and that both saw an apple fall to the ground. The
dog could observe the fact as well as Sir Isaac Newton, but Sir Isaac
Newton perceived that there was something involved in the fall of that
apple, which the dog never thought of. The dog confined his observation
to the mere fact; but Sir Isaac Newton perceived, by the aid of a
higher faculty, that there existed a law which he wished to ascertain,
and therefore commenced investigation to discover it. This department
of mind which led Sir Isaac Newton to make this investigation was
not content with observing the mere facts or phenomena of existence,
but wished to investigate that which was concerned in the production
of the phenomenon. That faculty gives rise in man to this second
sphere, which observes not the phenomena, but investigates the law
or proximate causes of phenomena, and opens the field of science and
philosophy. Hence the second sphere of thought is that sphere which
investigates the relation of things and determines the law of action
and manifestation through that relation. It belongs to what we call
the relational, the middle, or mediatorial sphere; because it embraces
the means by which causes operate to produce effects. For instance,
I speak and you hear. I am a cause of producing a sound; your ears
are affected by the sound produced. The atmosphere is the medium by
which the action is transmitted from my organs of speech to those of
hearing. The physical senses notice the fact in the physical sphere;
the intellectual perceptions notice the means by which the fact is
produced. The next, the highest, the inmost, absolute nature is that
which perceives the absolute cause of these effects.

There is a sphere of mind in you that observes the mere effect; there
is a sphere that investigates the relation or law by which phenomena
are produced; there is also a sphere of mind which searches after
and perceives the absolute cause of the phenomena. Now, inasmuch as
all being or existence must come under one of these forms, either
its phenomena, the means by which they are produced, or the cause
which, through the means, has produced the phenomena, there can be
but these three departments of conscious perception: the physical or
intellectual, the moral or relational, and the divine or absolute,
which perceives the absolute of all being. To illustrate the difference
between the relational and the absolute: When Sir Isaac Newton
discovered the existence of the law of gravitation, and found it the
same that caused the motion of the planetary bodies, it was supposed
that he discovered the cause of their motion. He named that law
attraction, or attraction of gravitation. Now we turn upon Sir Isaac
Newton and ask, What is attraction of gravitation? The only reply
that can be made is to speak of its effects. However intellectual the
mind may be, it must be ignorant of the absolute, because it belongs
to the sphere of relations. You can not analyze the infinite. You can
not compare the infinite. It is only in the sphere of the finite that
the intellectual faculties have power to pursue their investigations.
That which perceives the absolute must of itself be absolute; that is,
the finite can not receive the infinite—the finite can not embrace the
infinite. Therefore, if the infinite is ever to be represented to man,
there must be a department that is receptive of the infinite; and that
department must be infinite, or it can not receive the infinite. When I
dwell more particularly upon this subject, I will endeavor to make it
apparent to you so far as language is capable of making it.

Corresponding to the three spheres of perception there are three
spheres of affection. The first sphere is called the sphere of
self-love, or, to use a word which would express it in every relation,
I would call it lust; that is, the desire for self-gratification. This
is the lowest sphere pertaining to the finite, and corresponding to
the sphere of fact or phenomena. The second sphere is the sphere of
relational love, and that divides naturally into two departments—the
love of unconscious nature, the love of sciences, etc., and the love
of conscious being, or moral love, by which man loves his neighbor,
some conscious being out of himself. That is the second sphere of love,
known as relational, and it belongs to the sphere of relational truth,
or the sphere of intellectual and moral investigation. There is a
third sphere of impulse or love, known as the divine or absolute love,
called the love of God, the love of the infinite. In one of these three
spheres is every man’s ruling affection to be found—in the sphere of
self-love, seeking self-gratification; or in the sphere of moral love,
seeking the welfare of his neighbor; or in the sphere of divine love,
loving as God loves, universally—not objectively, but subjectively,
all the wide universe. There can be but just these three spheres.
Now if each of you will investigate, you will readily recognize two
of the affections at least to which I have called your attention,
self-love, and social love, but more particularly self-love, desire
for self-gratification, desiring that you may be first mad happy, and
then leaving the world to be happy afterward. The love that goes out
of itself, and loves some being out of yourself, is exemplified in the
love of a true husband for his wife, of a parent for his child, of a
brother for a sister. All these loves give indication of the second
sphere of love, known as charity, good-will to the neighbor. This
love is the means by which self-love is first overcome or destroyed.
The individual is brought from self-love, through charity, to divine
love, just as, in his knowledge, he is brought from the sphere of
fact, through relation, to the absolute of being; and hence, in the
spheres of unfolding, the three degrees are necessarily absolute. Look
at society. What is it but the aggregate of individuals composing it?
Society, separate from individuals, is nothing. The love of society is
only the love of the aggregate of individuals. Now, inasmuch as the
love will belong either to the sphere of self-love, charity, or divine
love, you will find that society will always be expressive of one of
these three loves, never the third, though. We say of society, when
we look to the principles that govern it in its administration, it is
but the embodiment of the character and will of those constituting the
government —it is but an expression of the individuals composing it.
Therefore there are three spheres of government corresponding to the
three spheres of the individual. For individuals living in the selfish
nature, the government will be a government of force. The individual
who has come out of this obeys the truth because he loves the truth. He
does not feel the restraints of law that says, Thou shalt not steal,
Thou shalt not lie. He does not know that there are any such laws in
the State. He never felt any restraints. That individual is not in the
sphere of self-love; and the government over him is not a government of
force. The government over him is a moral government, and has its place
in his affection.

Coming out of the government of force, man comes into the second, the
Christian, or government of moral love, the government of charity. He
then comes under the “new commandment I give unto you, that ye love
one another.” This second, or mediatorial sphere, is a moral one;
hence this dispensation has been called the mediatorial dispensation.
Hence I say there will be a second sphere of government, or second
dispensation, as it was called; but that dispensation is only the
magnification of the individual. It is only the representation of
society as one great individual. Then there is a prophecy of the
third and perfect dispensation, which is called the millennial,
the divine dispensation. When the second shall have performed its
mediatorial work, when every individual will have been perfected in
his moral nature, and shall be prepared to receive influx from the
divine, then will arise the third dispensation of government, known
as the millennial. If we refer to the forms of expression by which
it is designated, we will find it spoken of as taking place at the
consummation of the age, at the end of the world, when that mediatorial
age is through, when man is perfected in his moral nature, has put
down all rule and power; then Christ himself becomes subject to the
Father, and God, the Divine, becomes all in all. That brings in the
third dispensation, the third sphere of government. These three spheres
of love in man lay the foundation for the spheres exhibited in the
Spirit-world. The governments upon the earth, as well as in heaven,
have their basis in man. Man is but the footings-up of all past ages;
and the Spiritual worlds have their foundation in him. Therefore, when
you and I wish to study the Spirit-spheres, to know what constitutes
a sphere and degree, we are not obliged to go out of ourselves and
look into space ten, fifteen, or a thousand miles away. That is not
the way to study the Spirit-world. The way is to go within and study
the spheres of Spiritual being and affection. Individuals who are in
either of these spheres are allied to one of the three spheres in the
Spiritual world. The first is called the lowest, or dark sphere, the
sphere of outer darkness, sometimes called the grave. The grave was
called the place of darkness, where there was neither knowledge, or
device, or wisdom, and was that to which allusion was made in saying,
that those in the graves shall hear the voice of God, and shall live.
It is sometimes called “Gehenna.” It corresponds to man’s lustful
nature, and represents the darkness and impurity of man under the
influence of his lusts. That is what characterizes the first or lowest
sphere of Spiritual being. The second sphere corresponds to man’s
intellectual or moral nature. It is called “Paradise,” the place of
happiness. Jesus said to the thief on the cross, “To-day shalt thou be
with me in Paradise.” Two days after, when Mary met him at the tomb,
and offered to embrace him, he said, “Touch me not, for I have not yet
ascended to my Father.”

He had been in Paradise—in the second sphere—and he told them that
when he ascended to his Father they should see him no more. Both
Gehenna and Paradise are spheres of Spirit-manifestation. Those who are
charitable, and who do possess truly spiritual natures or affections,
are in alliance with Paradise. Those in lust are in alliance with the
sphere of lust or Gehenna. Those who have passed through, and fulfilled
every impulse and every love in the second sphere, are said then to
be brought into the divine presence. They no longer need a middle man
between them and the Divine, because the Father can then speak directly
to them. But so long as man is in the sphere of outer darkness or in
Paradise, there is between him and the Divine (and he must approach
by a mediator) something that can take the things of the Father and
make them manifest to him in the visible sense. But when man has come
into the third sphere, there is no longer a middle man; Christ himself
becomes subject to the Father, and God becomes all in all. Then comes
the New Dispensation, or the Consummation of the Christian Age. The
point to which I wish to call your attention is, that the governments
in earth, as well as in heaven, all have their basis in man —man being
but the footings-up of all the ages of eternity. All is summed up in
him; and he is the footings-up of all that preceded him; hence all the
Spiritual spheres have their basis in man. Therefore, when we wish to
study the Spirit-spheres, we are not obliged to go out of ourselves and
begin to look off into space ten, fifteen, or one thousand miles away.
The way is to come within, and ascertain the sphere of Spiritual being,
Spiritual perception and affection; for all there is of the Spiritual
universe is what has its basis in the individual Spirits who constitute
the spheres.

As the societies of earth are composed of the individuals of earth,
so are the spheres of the heavens composed of the individuals of the
heavens, and the ruling nature of the different spheres is but the
aggregate of the ruling loves of those composing those spheres. The
laws of the spheres are but the laws of those composing the spheres. We
are germinal universes. We are to be developed and unfolded consciously
till the whole universe is translated into our consciousness. There
is but one way to study the universe, and that is to come down into
ourselves and study ourselves. This idea of looking out of ourselves,
looking to any external method outside of our consciousness to find
out what constitutes a Spiritual sphere or degree, is all fallacious.
Spirits may come and rap, talk, and preach till doomsday; if they can
not find the elements within your consciousness out of which they can
construct that Spiritual sphere, you can not perceive or get any true
idea of Spirit-spheres. It is as though I were born blind, and had
never seen the light, and of course knew nothing of light, color,
and darkness, and some individual should endeavor to make me believe
that I was living in total darkness, when there would be no part of my
being to which he could appeal to make me believe. There would be no
possibility of conveying the thought to my mind, because I should have
no conscious experience of light, color, etc. Outward language could
not give me the idea. Unless I have had the conscious experience to
give me the idea out of which to construct the idea, the Spirits from
the Spirit-world may come from every sphere and degree, and they can
not convey to my mind an accurate idea of those spheres and degrees.
If they would make me understand who God is, and what he is, they must
find in me the elements out of which to construct that God. I say it
is useless to look for information out of yourselves until you know
what is in yourselves. The first lesson is to learn who and what am
I. I propose to commence my investigations in each individual’s own
consciousness, starting with affirmations of that consciousness, and
with definitions about which we can not disagree, and then go forward
step by step, demonstrating every point, and ascertaining the law of
manifestation as that law is revealed in us. I do not ask Spirits,
and do not wish them to come to tell me about the law that governs
in their sphere. The truth is, we can not avoid the fact, that all
communications that come understandingly, must come in the method that
God has ordained, and that method is that it must be written by his
law upon our consciousness; and when it is written so, Spirits can
come and point out the writing to us; and that is the best they can
do. I desire you to understand distinctly what will be the basis of
my lectures, what will be the points I shall attempt to establish. I
shall endeavor to prove Spiritualism. I shall not come to the raps
for a considerable time. They are so far off, I shall not attempt to
prove Spiritualism by rapping for some time yet. People say we have got
beyond the rapping. The truth is, a large portion of the world have
not yet got to the raps. They are not yet able to appreciate the raps.
We must make considerable progress before we can get the philosophy
of the raps. We have much to learn yet before we can get the full
benefit of a simple sound, even though it be not accompanied by much
intelligence. The first lesson I shall attempt to teach—pardon me for
assuming to be a teacher, I will be a pupil at any time—is how to study
and know yourselves; how to ascertain the laws of your being, action,
and manifestation; how to determine what is and what is not spiritual
in you; how to determine whether you are under Spirit-influence or
not—for there are laws by which all these things can be determined.
In my investigation I shall perhaps be able to determine where that
terrible creature, Jack, the Giant-killer, the Odylic force, resides,
and show what it can and what it can not do. And I promise, too, in
the face and eyes of all theorizers who believe that the Spiritual
manifestations are traceable to this force, and to the satisfaction
of everybody else, to demonstrate that it is not competent to produce
them. I will demonstrate it according to President Mahan’s hypothesis.
I will show by every known law of nature that the power exerted at
the brain’s center, in a single instance he has given, was equal to
a thousand steam-engines of a million horse-power at the distance of
five feet from the brain. But that will merely come in as collateral
when I consider the objections offered to our theory. I will endeavor
to consider every objection which any objector has proposed to bring
forward. I do not stand here to boast, but what I speak is to me
absolute. I stand here fearlessly, and invite all classes of minds
to raise any objection they can to the Spiritual theory; and I bind
myself to answer them instanter, or confess my inability to do so. The
invitation commences now, and extends to every moment I am in the city.

In my next lecture I shall begin with the question of Spirit-spheres,
and endeavor to unfold to the consciousness of each of you the evidence
of the existence of a first sphere, from which you will all do well to
escape; and shall then proceed to prove the existence of other spheres,
namely, the second, or relational sphere, and a third, or divine
sphere. I invite skeptics and atheists in particular to be particularly
captious.

CHAPTER II.

THE SPHERE OF LUST.

Man possesses three natures—the animal or sensuous nature, the
intellectual and moral nature, and the divine nature. Mind, in whatever
department it is manifested, possesses two qualities—perception and
affection, and understanding and love; or, when understanding is united
with true affection, wisdom and love. I have heretofore said, that
since man, in the lowest department of his being, is animal in his
character, possessing the faculty of perceiving facts and phenomena,
that faculty was the perceptive part of his animal being which embraces
self-love, or a desire after self-gratification. That portion of the
mind which pertains to the second part of man’s nature was described
as being that which investigates the laws and relation of things,
inquires into what relates to that department of nature called the
scientific, and studies that which relates to man and society. What
is called the moral department of man’s being is that which relates
to the affectional part of his nature, and which is called moral love
or charity. That which pertains to the divine or absolute of man’s
being was said to embrace the religious element in him; through which
department the Infinite, as the absolute of being and of affection,
is to be revealed to the mind. The love characterizing this department
was described as divine love—the love of the Divine Being. The first
love is objective in self, the second is objective in neighbor, and the
third is subjective in God. Thus, then, was given the division of that
department of mind pertaining to man’s perception and affection.

I am now to commence with the first—man in the lowest department of his
perception and affection, to show you its nature, and its presence in
him, in society, in government, and in the Spirit-world. If we would
learn the laws that govern in that sphere of the Spirit-world called
outer darkness, we need only learn the laws that govern in the sphere
of outer darkness which is in man, and which is caused by man to exist
in society. A singular idea has obtained, that this lower animal nature
derives its quality from the physical body we carry about with us; and
that when we come to be separated from it, we shall no longer possess
any of that nature; as though this earthly body was the foundation of
perception or affection—as though the instrument were the cause—as
though this body, which we temporarily inhabit, exercised more control
over us than the mind!

I propose first, then, to inquire how much influence the body exercises
upon the mind, and how much influence the mind exercises upon the
body, so that we may arrive at something like an accurate conclusion
as to what our condition will be beyond the grave; for if we know how
much is to be subtracted, at death, from our animal natures, we can
know how much of that nature remains after we have passed beyond the
influence of these material bodies. My first position is this: The
manifestation of impulse in finite beings rises out of the relation
which one finite being sustains to another. There is no impulse that
does not grow out of this relation; and the impulse is according to
the nature and character of that relation. In the divine order, if
my body, as a physical and a finite existence, did not sustain any
relation, it would be subject to no impulse; therefore, whenever I
perceive an impulse arising within me, I am informed thereby that I
sustain a certain relation to something, and that if I would become
truly wise in controlling that impulse, I must learn what that relation
is. I might begin back of mind or conscious being to show how uniform
this law is in the material or unconscious world, as that the influence
between the earth and the sun arises out of a certain relation existing
between them, and that if you change or destroy that relation, you
change or destroy that influence. But I will illustrate this truth
by reference to a conscious being. If man could be isolated from all
laws, he would be a very different being from what he now is, although
he might retain the same constitution which he now possesses; because
he could not then come into certain relations which are necessary, in
order to have revealed within him certain affections. I will take, for
instance, the conjugal relation. It is the nearest the Divine. It is
the first-begotten relation below the Infinite. Until a man and woman
come into the true conjugal relation, they can not experience that love
known as conjugal love. Till then it can not be begotten in them. They
may conjecture they know what it is, but until that true relation is
established between them, they can never have an adequate conception of
it—can never know what it is to become so oblivious in another as the
true wife does in the husband, or the true husband does in the wife;
nor can they, like the true husband and wife, experience that perfect
harmony of soul, or listen to that sweet spiritual music within, till
they have entered this relation, which alone can fit them for a proper
conjugal union. The law exists, and the conditions exist; but man must
place himself, and woman must place herself, within the sphere of the
law and the conditions, or they can not experience the benefit to be
derived from them. So with the parental relation. No woman can know
what maternal love is till she becomes a mother. Is it not so, mothers?
People may conjecture that they know what it is, and suppose it to be
a pure and friendly love-feeling existing between mother and child;
but they can have no adequate conception of the deep tenderness and
holiness of maternal love—their idea of it does not begin to reach
down into the almost infinite depths of that holy love. There is no
possible way for an individual to know what maternal love is, but to
come into the maternal relation. That is the way God reveals it in
the soul. The reason is, that the true maternal impulse in the finite
is the manifestation of the Divine in the finite sphere, and this
manifestation can only be made in an individual when that individual
comes into the sphere where the Infinite can confer that blessing. The
same is true with reference to paternal, fraternal, filial, and social
love: they all depend for their development upon those in whom they are
manifested coming into the true relation which gives birth to them.

The same law holds good when applied to the relations existing between
the body and the spirit. My body can not be nourished so as to become
an instrument of individualizing in me an immortal spirit, unless it be
sustained by those things necessary to become a part of its organism. I
have needs, as an immortal being, which must be supplied, or I perish;
and since those needs exist, they must have some means of manifesting
themselves to me; and one of the means employed for that purpose is the
feeling of hunger. A desire for food proclaims a need of my wasting
body. The needed material can then be taken into it to build it up and
fit it for its holy mission of being an instrument in elaborating an
immortal spirit. So, likewise, thirst is the voice of God proclaiming a
need of my body, and my spirit is induced to seek for that which shall
supply the demand of a divine impulse originating in that plane. So it
is in regard to all other needs of the body calling upon the spirit for
gratification. The impulses, then, pertaining to this body have not
their origin in this body, but only in the relation which this body
sustains to my spirit; and when the spirit has fulfilled its duty of
supplying the needs of the body, the demand ceases. When, being hungry,
I have appropriated the proper quantity of food, the desire for food
ceases. It is so respecting every other need—when it is supplied, the
demand ceases, and the individual continues to be satisfied till the
demand is again created. By studying the needs of the body, and making
yourself acquainted with its condition as far as it relates to the
spirit, you may learn exactly how much influence, truly and properly,
it exerts upon your spirit; but when you look beyond the needs of the
body, and find impulses asking for more, you may be certain that you
are finding impulses which do not pertain to your body. Though they
may lay hold of your body and stimulate it to action and administer
to its gratification, yet they do not arise out of it, but out of
some neglected need. Such impulses are the voice of God calling our
attention to some need which you have forgotten or neglected, and they
will not permit you to rest till you discover what that need is and
supply it. I will illustrate this point.

Although man in the lower department of his nature is animal, he is
nevertheless something more than an animal in the activities of his
nature. The highest impulse of the animal is to provide for and protect
its perishable mortal structure, and he has no immortal spirit to
provide for in the future. He is content when the needs of the body
are supplied. Did you never notice how content and unconcerned are the
horse and dog when their demand for food is supplied? Young animals
and young children, in their play, are supplying one of the needs of
their body. But when the children have passed from childhood, desires
of that kind cease, if they become properly developed men and women,
and others take their place; while the animal, whenever the needs of
his animal nature are supplied, is satisfied. Consequently, you do not
see dissipated animals. Did you ever think of that? Animals do not
get drunk, nor seek for gratification in any such unnatural channel.
Animals are true to nature and to God. They can not have thoughts
and desires that pertain to the undying spirit, their highest nature
being merely animal. Were man as true to all the needs of his being as
is the animal to the needs of his animal nature, he would not be the
discontented, unhappy, and lustful being he now is. But in consequence
of having to supply the needs of a higher nature, he finds himself
far from being as contented as the brute, whose animal wants are all
provided for.

There are spiritual needs pertaining to his understanding and
affections which are entirely overlooked or neglected by him, whose
demands are as imperative as are the demands of the animal nature. The
demands of his intellectual and moral nature cause him to feel the lack
of something within which destroys his rest and quiet. He seeks to
satisfy this lack by gratifying his sensuous appetites and passions.
Thus man runs into vice, and becomes sinful. Were it not for his
immortal thirsting for the water of life, he never would be a wicked,
lustful being; or if he would _supply_ the demands of that thirst, he
never would be discontented or lustful.

Now let us make the distinction between the lustful and the divine
impulse, that you may better understand what I mean by the sphere to
which I am calling your attention. We all can tell the difference by
appealing to our own consciousness. The divine impulse informs us of a
need, and leads us to seek to supply it. The Infinite only speaks of
needs, and leads man to supply them, that he may grow up into a perfect
being. Every impulse in man, from the lowest to the highest nature,
must be attended to, in order to render him perfect. The true impulse
is one that promotes individual happiness and contentment.

When the infant, in consequence of this impulse, feels the sense
of hunger calling for food, and such food as its infantile nature
requires, it cries; but the supply of that demand is only necessary to
cause it to cease its crying. This is because the child is free from
those lusts which attach to persons advanced in years. “Of such is the
kingdom of heaven.” The child does not lust after things that shall
gratify or tickle its palate; it only seeks for those things which it
needs; and when they are supplied, it ceases calling for more. But with
the advance of age it learns of lustful parents, or by being acted upon
by lustful influences, to seek gratification through lust, while in its
original unperverted state it knows no impulses but those which are
natural, and, consequently, it obeys the true and divine law.

Without stopping to inquire into the origin of lust, I may say that
it originates in man’s ignorance, necessarily. If you recollect the
figure in the parable of the Garden of Eden, you remember that the
sin committed by Eve was eating of the tree of knowledge of good and
evil. That is where we all eat. But I do not propose to dwell upon the
nature and origin of this lust in man, but merely to speak of it as
being that which characterizes him in his lowest sphere of being. It
brings him into antagonism with his neighbor and God. It is that which
begets in him so much crime, and which brings ruin upon the world. That
is lust which leads him to seek after self-gratification irrespective
of any need, while the true impulse only leads him to seek to supply
those things which are _really_ needed. The impulse belonging to the
lower sphere may be characterized as lust. The idea which obtains so
generally in society, that lust belongs only to animal, sensual, or
sexual desires, is, therefore, erroneous.

Man may seek gratification in every plane of his being; not only in
what he eats and drinks, but also in the intellectual plane. He may
seek to gratify a vain curiosity. When he feels restless, he goes off
searching after amusement. Time hangs heavy on his soul. There is a
perishing need calling for action, and he knows not whence it comes,
and he seeks to “kill” this time by amusement or otherwise. This is
lusting, not in the animal sense, but in the intellectual sense. He
may also lust in the moral plane. What are called friendships in the
world, are distinguished by lusts. You know how the world selects
its friends: it selects them according to the pleasure it expects to
derive from them. Is it not so? Does not the selfish man and woman
select friends with reference to the enjoyment they expect to derive
from their association with them? And are they not most constant in
their attention to those who are most successful in administering to
their enjoyment? Look at this, each of you. Look over the list of your
friends, and tell me _really_ what is the basis of your friendship.
You love your friends, you say. Why do you love them? You love to be
with them. Why? You seek their society. Why? Some of your friends you
love best. Tell me why it is that you love them best. You say they
are the most agreeable to you, and hence you love to be with them.
Is that the highest basis? If so, when they cease to administer to
your gratification, what relation will you hold to them then? It is
said that “prosperity makes friends, and adversity tries them.” They
can make it pleasant for us when they are with us, and in prosperity;
but when adversity comes, their position is not quite high enough
for us; and we prefer those differently conditioned. This remark is
in accordance with the statement, that the friendship of the world
is based upon the principle of gratifying ourselves. In making your
morning calls, you sometimes visit your friends from a sense of duty;
and are influenced by the fear that they will find fault with you if
you follow your feelings in the matter, and go where you will derive
the greatest amount of pleasure.

When you think these friends are laboring to your disadvantage, then
your love for them soon cools off. They don’t answer your purpose.
Thus, trifling circumstances make foes of friends. You may test the
friendship you think you have for individuals. If a person’s friendship
seems to be strong, and he can not enjoy his friendship for another,
unless in that other’s society, and he desires to be in the presence
of that person, so that he can hear his voice and feel his personal
influence, and if, when separated from that friend he is disquieted and
unhappy, very much as is the person who uses strong drink or tobacco,
and is deprived of his beer, or rum, or tobacco—his friendship has
a low basis. But if one has a true friendship, which is high, and
holy, and spiritual, one where his whole confidence is merged in that
friend, he trusts him with his heart and most secret thoughts, and
knows without doubt that he can not be betrayed by that friend; and
they hold constant spiritual communion with each other, no matter how
far apart—there is a concord of spiritual communion between them that
enables them to enjoy each other’s society when separated by hundreds
of miles. True friendship is of the spiritual kind that does not regard
so gross and physical a friendship as the friendship of the world. I
wish to call your attention to the presence of this impulse in you,
because perhaps you have not looked at the subject in this light.

A word to husbands and wives. A young man, when he contemplates getting
married, thinks he will get a wife that will make him very happy. One
young man thinks he would like a wife who will be economical; another,
one who would make a good housekeeper; and another, an intellectual
companion; so they select not so much with reference to the wife, as
to the use of the wife. And ladies, on the other hand, select husbands
who they think will provide them a good home, afford them protection,
etc.; they want a husband for his use; so the union between the man
and woman is often based upon the idea of use, and not upon their
fitness for companions; and hence their love for each other continues
so long as the use continues, and no longer. If a man who desires
a good housekeeper finds that his wife is not one, or if a husband
finds his wife faulty in any other important particular, just in
proportion as she proves faulty his love for her is abated; and at the
end of twenty-eight days—the period denominated the “_honey-moon_”—he
finds he does not love her near as well as he supposed; and that
what he supposed was love, was, after all, but a desire after
gratification—that he was loving self instead of his wife.

Man may be lustful in his religion as well as in his moral relations.
He may mistake what he supposes to be the love of God for the love of
the use of God. He expects God is going to make him eternally happy,
and bestow upon him unending enjoyment, and for this reason he shouts
and praises him, and calls it loving God. He does not see that God is
so much better than anybody else; but he has become satisfied that God
means well, and will bless him; and he honors him for these things.
Hence his seeking after religion that he may make himself happy and
save himself from suffering is as lustful and selfish as seeking after
something good to eat or drink, making self-gratification the object of
his search. The great difficulty, my friends, with popular religion is,
that it is only a religious expression of lust. That it has not beaten
swords into plowshares and spears into pruning-hooks, and taught people
to learn war no more, is because it has failed to adopt the means by
which the world can be made pure and happy. Hence the religious man may
be as selfish as the miserly man, and yet think he is so much like God
that he is going to be saved. But it is not religion that he loves;
it is only the use of religion. Satisfy him that God is not going to
benefit him, but that he is going to damn him, and he will curse him
bravely. I ask everybody to look at this.

It is claimed, as I have already remarked, that the impulse of lust
belongs to the body, and does not grow out of the relation which the
mind sustains to the body. What need, I ask, did Alexander’s body
feel, which demanded that he should have all the kings and potentates
of earth on their knees before him? What did he want of the wealth of
the earth? and what made him weep because there was not another world
to conquer? Was it his body? I tell you, Nay; there were perishing
needs within him that would not give him rest till they were supplied;
and, ignorant of the nature of those needs, he sought to supply them
by the gratification of his selfish nature. Not heeding the voice of
God, he took his sword and rushed upon mankind, and made that the balm
for the healing of his restless spirit; and when he had conquered the
world, and had it at his command, he was more miserable than before;
simply because he had entered farther into the broad road leading to
destruction and death. He felt the bitter agony of soul consequent
upon a departure from the straight and narrow path. This lust was not
the lust of his body—it was the lust of the spirit. It was a desire
for self-gratification that arose, because the needs existing in
consequence of neglecting the demands of the spirit were not supplied.
He sought gratification in a way in which he thought he could obtain
it; but he was sadly disappointed in the result.

The miser, in every age, has been trying to obtain happiness by getting
gold. A French miser, who, like a great mass of mankind, thought
wealth would make him happy, sought for it, and was so successful as
to obtain it. He possessed his untold millions, and yet desired more;
and he found that the more he possessed the more he desired. He also
perceived that his wealth did not gratify his wants. The moment he
possessed it, he found he could not take care of it to his liking. He
could not trust it in banks, for the banks might break; and he did
not like to invest it in stocks, for stocks were liable to depreciate
in value; so he made up his mind that he would convert it into money,
and keep it continually in his sight; and accordingly he had it placed
in heaps, and stood and watched it. But then he was unable to sleep
because he feared burglars and assassins, whose plottings for his life
and money constantly rung in his ear. As he stood and watched those
shining heaps, he reflected that although he had obtained wealth he had
derived no satisfaction from it, but that every dollar added to his
possessions added a new pang to his sorrows; and he determined to kill
himself, and accordingly proceeded to the banks of the river Seine,
for the purpose of drowning himself. Upon arriving at the river’s
bank, happening to put his hand in his pocket, he found four guineas.
Thinking they would thereafter be of no use to him, he concluded that
rather than have them lost, he would, before he sought his watery
grave, go and find some needy person to whom he might give the money.
He accordingly went to a miserable hovel close by. As he approached
it, he heard cries of agony and distress within. He entered, when he
beheld a most heart-rending sight. There lay a poor, sick, distressed
widow on a pallet of straw, with a few rags for covering; and there
were four hungry, dirty, naked children crying for bread, while the
sick mother had no bread for them, or the means of obtaining any.
The miser stepped up to the bed, and placed the four strayed guineas
in her hand, and told her they were hers. She looked wildly at the
money, and then at the giver, and then at the guineas again. She seized
his hand, pressed it, blessed him, and called upon God to bless him;
and the children thanked him. The thanks, and blessings, and tears
which were showered upon that miser’s heart caused it to break, and
for the first time in his life a pulsation of pleasure, delight, and
satisfaction beat through his soul, and as he stood and witnessed the
joy, and thankfulness, and hope of that family he exclaimed, “What!
is happiness so cheap? then I will be happy.” Then he went away, not
to drown himself in the Seine, but to seek out other similar cases of
suffering; and after that he had no occasion to kill himself, for he
had found what was the canker that had so long been gnawing upon his
heart. He found that he possessed a moral nature that had needs, and
that that nature was calling upon him to perform certain moral duties;
and that the moment he obeyed the demands of that nature, he silenced
that clamoring within, which had all his life long rendered him unhappy
and discontented; and at a good old age he testified that the way to be
happy was to be good and useful.

I think his experience will be yours and mine. We talk about wanting
pleasure, and we seek it in amusements and at theaters, routs, and
balls; and I tell you that this feeling arises from the same cause as
the miser’s misery. We have hungerings and thirstings of soul which we
are required to satisfy, and except we comply with these requirements
we will be disquieted. If those of you who love the opera, the
theater, etc., will go forth and tread these streets, and find out the
objects of need—those worthy of aid—and visit them, and administer to
their comfort, you will no longer feel the need of theaters, routs, and
balls; and you will find greater satisfaction in such a course than
these amusements can afford. Try the experiment, and I will guarantee
you will be successful. That this city, like all great cities, is
pursuing after pleasure, as the paramount object to be attained,
is because their souls are hungering and thirsting after that food
necessary to build them up into the stature of perfect men and women.
This makes time seem cruel, and hang heavy upon them; and, like the
victim who seeks to drown his sorrow in the cup, they seek to fill up
the long hours in dissipation. To return to my subject.

This sphere of lust, I say, then, does not arise from the body, nor
from the influence of the body on the soul. It arises from our neglect
of our spiritual needs. This lust, this desire proclaims a divine life
within, which demands activity corresponding to our real natures; and
we can never get peace and happiness until those real demands of our
natures are supplied. I appeal to all pleasure-seekers whether this is
not true. You have heard it argued whether there be more pleasure in
anticipation than in participation. The world’s pleasures are always
in the future, never in the present. The man or the woman of the world
is never satisfied with present conditions or present attainments. Why
not? Because the man and the woman of the world are not attending to
the present needs of the spiritual nature. The finite man ought to
understand that he lives only in the present. God the Infinite only
belongs to the future. Man’s needs pertain to to-day. His physical,
moral, and intellectual needs are all bearing upon the present, and
not the future. The past is his schoolmaster, to teach him how to be
ready to enjoy the future. It is to-day that we should take thought
for; hence the divine saying of the man of Nazareth—“Take no thought
for the morrow. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” If we
look to the present, and supply the needs of the present, the future
will take care of itself. The man seeking for religion thinks he wants
it for the future, in order that he may die right; but a man does not
want religion to die by. There will be no trouble about his dying if
he only lives right. I do not care for religion for the sake of having
it to die by. Only give me its living benefits, and you are welcome to
its dying benefits. This shows the false estimate the world sets upon
religion.

I desire to impress upon your minds this principle, that when you
look down to the real basis of selfishness and lust, you will find
that they do not originate in the body, but that they pertain to the
spiritual being. There are certain needs, however, which do grow out
of the physical body; but when the spirit is separated from the body,
it no longer feels these physical demands; for instance, it will no
longer feel the need of food, experience thirst, or be susceptible to
the effects of the elements—heat and cold—as is the physical nature;
but that which administers to the demands of the mind, independent of
the body, belongs to the mind. And when you enter the Spirit world, if
you take truth with you, you will also take falsehood—if you carry
purity with you, so you will impurity—if justice goes with you to that
sphere, so will injustice. Now think of society in its individual
action, social, governmental, and religious action, and tell me whether
the world, or the individuals of the world, are governed by the true,
divine impulse? Are they searching after the true needs of the body and
mind, or after pleasure and self-gratification? And in your activity,
which controls?—a sense of need, or a desire after gratification? You
settle this question for yourselves, and I will settle it for myself.
If you are under the rule, and in the sphere, of lust you belong to the
sphere of outer darkness; and if you are under the rule of charity, you
belong to the second sphere or Spiritual Paradise. His servants you are
to whom you yield yourselves servants to obey. It is for you to say
whom you will obey.

Now this earthly sphere is the lowest and darkest sphere. Its
influences are dark and defiling. In this sphere men are swallowed up
in worldly matters, and striving to gratify self.

But when a separation takes place between the mind and the body, we
shall come into new relations, although we shall not at once change
our thoughts, feelings, and affections, and shall recognize ourselves.
Our lusts and self-love will follow us to the Spirit-world. There is
not, as many seem to suppose, a miraculous process, by which man is
changed while passing through the dark valley of shadows. If a change
takes place in him in the Spirit-world, it must be in accordance with
the same divine law which governs him in this sphere of existence. If
you will but exercise your reasoning faculties on this point, you
will see that it should and must be so. When we come to understand
the Spirit-world, we shall find that in our Father’s house there is
a mansion suited to those who seek after self-gratification, and
that that world, like this, is subdivided into many minor spheres,
corresponding to the various grades of development in the different
spheres of mind. There are physical spheres, intellectual spheres,
moral spheres, and religious spheres, as there are in this world; and
they are very much of the some description as those here, because they
proceed from the same basis. Individuals passing from this sphere to
that, will fashion out of the materials which their own conscious
elements furnish the same kind of a Deity there that they worshiped
here. As in New York city there are many degrees of advancement in
these different departments—one man seeking to gratify his lusts
through appetite, and another man in some other way; and as you can
find here every sphere, except the divine sphere (I doubt whether you
can find that), so in the Spiritual world you will find all these
different degrees of advancement, each occupying its own appropriate
sphere.

Here is one man who seeks gratification, it may be, in strong drink,
and he worships the bowl; another seeks it in food, and hence becomes
an epicure, and worships the stomach; another, it may be, seeks
gratification in practicing certain games or tricks, or following
after some amusement; while another seeks gratification in sexual
indulgences. So you may go on and enumerate the endless variety of
channels in which men seek to gratify their selfish desires; and it
will be found that those in the same pursuit affinitize with one
another—drunkards with drunkards, etc.—every sphere delighting in that
which corresponds to the desires of those who compose it. So in the
Spirit-world; the Spirit who was a drunkard here seeks gratification in
the same direction that he did on earth; the seeker of pleasure there
still has a love for the theater, routs, and balls; the libertine still
delights in miserable songs he was accustomed to hear.

Governments, institutions, and associations and relations, whether
social, spiritual, or otherwise, are expressions of what are the loves
and delights of the soul of man. Therefore, in all institutions, you
will find displayed the characters of those who founded them. The
government of any country is but the child of the ruling mind or minds
of that country. Then, if we wish to understand the dark spheres in the
Spiritual world, we have only to drop the body and have our spiritual
eyes opened, when we will see that there exist there all the phases of
society that we find here. The cause of this arises from the sphere
of lust. You have there your gambling Spirits, your drinking Spirits,
your lustful Spirits, etc. And how do these poor creatures live there?
That is the next question. What do they do to gratify their desires?
I will tell you. You understand it to be a psychological principle,
that when two men are brought into sympathy, or into _rapport_ with
each other (one being positive and the other negative), feelings,
sensations, and desires can be communicated from one to the other.
To give an illustration: You have seen, in mesmerism, an exhibition
of mind separated from the influences of the body. When the mind is
thus separated, and this mesmeric sympathy is established between the
subject and the operator, any surgical operation can be performed upon
the subject without giving him pain, because his being of sensation is
removed from his body; but you can not pull the hair of the operator,
or hurt his finger, or otherwise give him pain, without giving pain
to the subject. Whatever the operator enjoys or suffers, the subject
also enjoys and suffers. Now it is in accordance with this principle
that Spirits of the other world gratify their desires. Spirits who
visit this world are obliged to make use of and come into _rapport_
with, those who have appetites and desires similar to their own. If the
mind is separated from its own body, it can experience the sensations
of another body with which it may come into _rapport_. On the same
principle a good mind, or, if you please, the Divine Mind, can flow
into the individual mind, and impart thought and sensation to that
mind. Or a good Spirit can flow into a medium, and awaken sensations
and thoughts in accordance with the law of action and re-action,
becoming negative or positive, according as he wishes to impart or
receive influence. Here, then, is the means by which the Spirit is
enabled to gratify its desires by visiting earth. Those Spirits who
allow themselves to be influenced by their lusts are called tempting
Spirits, and they influence individuals on earth that they may make
use of them as a means of gratifying these lusts. The same law is
manifested by individuals in the body. It is not because Spirits wish
to injure the bodies which they thus use, but because they desire
self-gratification, and know of no other means of obtaining it,
except in this sphere of outer darkness. The lowest in this scale of
unfolding corresponds to this lustful nature in man. Every affection in
society that can affect societies of men has its representative in the
individual man; so that every subdivision of the sphere of lust has its
representative in each individual; and the question is whether he lives
in one of these departments or another. If I am developed in the moral
department, there I live, and love, and worship; and when I pass to the
Spirit-world, I go to a sphere corresponding to that ruling affection
by which I am controlled. So it is in regard to any other sphere of
unfolding, whether it be relational or absolute, or otherwise. Hence
man himself determines his sphere. Take any man or woman you please,
and let them be developed to any sphere, from the darkest sphere of
lust to the purest sphere of love, and if there is any place in God’s
universe where they can find that which corresponds to that lust or
love, they will find it. If there is any condition suited to make them
happy, they will find it. If this were not so, the Spirit-world would
be the worst hell imaginable. To compel a man to go where he has no
affinity would be to inflict upon him one of the greatest punishments
conceivable. Compel a lustful libertine to remain in a Methodist
class-meeting, and shout and sing with the enthusiastic Methodists,
and he would be extremely miserable—he could find many places where he
would be infinitely more happy; and in order to be happy, he would be
obliged to go where he could find that which would correspond to his
cast of mind. We can determine where a man’s God is when we ascertain
what it is to which he will sacrifice every thing else.

After having thus given the law governing this lowest sphere of the
Spirit-world, which represents man in his undeveloped nature as an
intellectual and moral being—we are qualified to comprehend that
sphere, and understand that the same spheres of mind which belong to
this belong also to the Spiritual world, and that undeveloped Spirits
from that lust-sphere visit earth, or societies of earth, not for the
purpose of redeeming them, but for the purpose of seeking their own
gratification. I have presented to you my views of that sphere as I
understand it, and I shall be prepared, in my next lecture, to take
up the second sphere, and tell you what constitutes it, and how it is
that it becomes a mediatorial sphere—middle sphere. This second, or
Spiritual sphere, is between the dark and light, or divine sphere. It
is the means through which the lustful are brought out of their lusts
to the divine.

CHAPTER III.

THE SECOND, OR RELATIONAL SPHERE.

The subject now to be considered is that of the second sphere of
mind, both in its perceptions and affections. Our last discourse was
upon what we denominated the first sphere, which was characterized
as being a sphere of self-love or lusting after self-gratification.
The individual in this sphere was described as being in the lowest
department of his mind, and as allied in his affinities with the lowest
pleasures of existence. It was remarked that this plane of lust could
be manifested as well in the intellectual, moral, and religious plane,
as in the animal or physical plane. The criterion by which we determine
whether it is selfishness is to inquire whether the motive prompting to
activity has for its object desire after gain. If this is the ruling
impulse, then the individual’s love is the love of self. Though the
grossness of the lust may depend upon the direction given it, yet it
is essentially the same whether exercised in the moral, intellectual,
or physical plane. An individual who sought the happiness of another
without reference to his own interests was described as belonging to
the second sphere. He would seek association by the affinity of his
moral or second-sphere nature.

We meet with individuals in society who affirm that man is essentially
selfish—that he can not conceive a wish which does not originate in a
desire for self-gain. I have no doubt that the individuals making that
affirmation are very honest in it, and speak from their own conscious
experience. There are many such to be found in society, who know no
higher love than self-love, and their highest benevolence is based
upon selfishness. I doubt not that there are those who entertain such
sentiments, but I utterly protest when such men attempt to speak for
the Race. I will allow every person to speak for himself upon this
point, and to ascertain if there are not some actions which have not
this lustful basis; and when we find that there are such actions
arising within ourselves which are not contaminated with this selfish
thought, and which go forth to seek expression out of ourselves, we may
know that they do not belong to the first, but to the second sphere of
action, I mean the sphere of relation, as separate from the individual
considered in his individual love or individual selfish impulse. I will
give a few illustrations of this kind.

Every individual coming under the divine impulses of the sphere
of relation—I mean relation in its divine order—and living in
forgetfulness of separate self, will experience some of the impulses
which belong to that sphere. When the mother comes into the maternal
relation and experiences the love of a mother for her child, she is
ready to sacrifice the comforts and interests of self for the welfare
of that object that sustains that near and dear relation to her.
I speak of the maternal love as a representative of that love for
another which is divorced from its lustful or selfish character—not
based upon considerations of self-gain. We may desire the salvation of
individuals on our own account, for our own enjoyment, and also from a
love divorced from all considerations of self, which stands out holy,
pure, and undefiled for a being outside of itself. The mother, in
loving her child, experiences happiness; and as she presses it to her
bosom, and imprints upon its delicate cheek the maternal kiss, there
is joy deep and unutterable awakened in that mother’s bosom; but she
does not kiss the child that she may have the joy. It is not her joy
and happiness that she seeks, but the comfort, happiness, and welfare
of the child; and in thus supplying that demand of her maternal nature,
she feels the influx of the divine nature, saying, “Well done, good
and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I
will make thee ruler over many things: enter into the joy of thy God.”
That is what God says to every mother who loves her babe from the true
maternal feeling. So is it in the true relation between husband and
wife. I mean now the union in heaven, and not the union fixed up by
society and its institutions—I speak of such hearts as God has joined
together. When the true husband meets the true wife and surrenders all
his manhood to the care and keeping of that wife, in full confidence
and trust that she will receive it and not abuse it; and when the wife
in return gives all her womanhood to the care and fidelity of the
trusting husband—when two such souls surrender each to each the other’s
self, loving from an interior and divine harmony, then the joys of
conjugal love are awakened, the true demands of each soul are supplied
in the experience of those joys which can be found alone in that
relation, and God speaks saying, “Well done,” and breathes his divine
blessing upon them. So it is in the fraternal relation. Where from the
natural, constitutional harmony of soul existing between brothers, each
being individualized upon a common moral plane, and loving the other
with a pure and undefiled love, their love belongs to the second sphere.

Where the individual loves his neighbor as himself, he would as soon
sacrifice his own interest as that of his neighbor, and would as soon
be unjust to himself, nay, sooner be unjust to himself, than to his
neighbor. He loves that neighbor with a pure heart, loves him as a
manifestation of his divine Father’s Love, Will, and Wisdom, and seeks
to harmonize his own being with him in all his relations. He can not
see a brother, however weak, crushed, without seeing himself crushed
in that brother. When he loves a brother with that pure, unselfish
love—when the common heart of humanity abides in his breast, he comes
into the true plane of charity; for charity is that which seeketh not
her own. The motive that prompts him is not self-gain. It is the desire
to do good unto others that actuates him. The quality of charity is
to suffer long, not to be envious, not to be easily provoked, not to
be puffed up, or behave itself unseemly; but in all things to be true
and faithful, and kind to everybody. The man or woman possessed of
this love, whose whole being and activity is directed in the sphere of
relation to man, to society, to the world, belongs to what I call the
second sphere, and gives evidence that he or she has risen above the
lustful plane which seeketh its own, and which loves to gratify its
passion, desires, and appetites, in one form or another, and that he
or she is loving in harmony with God, and wills and acts in accordance
with the divine impulses.

Look abroad into society, look at the love of the world, and see how
many there are who love their neighbor with an unselfish love—how many
are so careful to be exactly just with their neighbor as they are
careful to have their neighbor be exactly just to them. There are many
who watch the scale to see if it preponderates in their favor; and if
the merchant gives good weight, they speak well of him; but if he does
not give good weight, they are very ready to speak ill of him. When
you come to see how much better they love to have justice done to them
than they love to do justice to others, you have an indication that
the lustful nature is somewhat alive and active in their breast. The
individual who is conscious that his desire is earnestly to be just,
will be as careful not to do an injustice to his neighbor as he would
be cautious to avoid an injury to himself—will no sooner circulate
defamatory remarks against his neighbor than he would defame himself.
When you find an individual thus acting, you may be certain that he has
risen from the first plane and is entering the second. But I am sorry
to say that in the vast majority of cases you will find lust lamentably
present. I called your attention to this in my last lecture, showing
you how it was manifested in almost every sphere of life, even in
performing the duties of a father, brother, husband, or wife. In the
majority of cases man and society are loved for their uses.

When it is desired to ascertain whether we belong to the first or the
second sphere—to the sphere of Gehenna or Paradise—we need only to
determine the quality of the affection that rules in us, to see whether
it be looking mainly to our own gain, or whether we rise above self and
go out to seek the well-being of man. We sometimes mistake, thinking
that we love a man himself, when we love his influence or society,
because by it we think we can be elevated in our social condition. We
ought, therefore, to be careful in trying ourselves to know to which
plane of affection we belong, lest some of these considerations outside
of the individual influence us, lest that we mistake for love that
which, proved by the true standard, will appear to be selfishness and
lust.

When one possesses a love for the well-being of all, he is willing to
contribute liberally and freely of his strength and talent for the
redemption of all, and has an unwillingness to be found at any time as
the representative of that idea which would tend to degrade or crush
any human being. There is no being so low in the scale of humanity as
to be beneath his efforts to raise him up; and if the tyrant should
stand upon the neck of the weak, his impulse is to push that tyrant
off and break away the captive’s chains, because he can not see his
brother fettered without feeling fettered himself—can not see the
humblest human being outlawed without seeing all humanity insulted.
The individual who has not seen enough of the dignity of the nature of
humanity to fulfill the duty he owes to universal humanity, has not
yet come to the true plane of charity, is not qualified to occupy a
high position in this second sphere.

I might illustrate in a variety of ways how it is that man apologizes
to himself for being selfish. Here is a constitution, and there a law,
and there a public sentiment demanding that a human being should be
crushed; and he turns his back to humanity and God and bows to the
Constitution. Such a man has not the love of humanity in his bosom; he
loves that which is respectable and strong, and which may be of service
to him under particular circumstances. But the individual who can be a
Judas and can sell the Lord in the shape of his brother—can betray him
with a kiss and sell him for thirty pieces of silver, whatever may be
his profession—belongs to the lowest grade of humanity. Here is a truth
that every soul must affirm. It honors the man that honors humanity,
and despises the man that despises humanity.

When a man in his lustful nature will bring his whole soul to honor
that sentiment, he is prepared to leave the first and enter the second
sphere, which is expressive of the finite character of man as he
comes into this charitable affection. This character in man is that
which determines the second sphere in the world of Spirits. Man is a
universe; and if there is a hell in the universe, it is because it is
in man; and if there is a heaven, it is because there is a heaven in
man. Those who are developed only in the sphere of outer darkness, and
who from affinity love to associate together, will be found composing
what is called the Outward Sphere. Do not now, by any means, associate
the idea of sphere with that of place. The persons in this room are
all together, so far as space is concerned, but so far as sentiment
or sphere is concerned you may be at heaven-wide distances. While one
is in _rapport_ with celestial affections, holding communion with the
Divine Father, the other may be in _rapport_ with Spiritual beings,
holding a communion with the angels; and a third may be in _rapport_
with the infernal, holding communion with the spheres of lust. It is
not a question of place, but simply a question of condition. If you and
I are in the condition of lust in our affections and perceptions, if we
associate with others in the same condition, heart thrills to heart,
just as in the moral or divine sphere heart answers to heart. Each in
his own plane seeks that which is adapted to his own nature. I say,
therefore, do not connect the idea of place with that of sphere.

Man is a little universe—a microcosm. This sphere of lust is within
him, from which the dark sphere of the Spiritual world is developed.
Those who are in the sphere of lust on the earth respond to the
inhabitants of this dark sphere of the Spiritual world. So also in the
Spiritual spheres is the development of man’s relational love. Man in
fulfilling his relational duties lays the foundation of the Spiritual
Paradise. Thus man rises and dwells in different spheres according to
the development of his affections. If we love our neighbor as such,
and seek after the redemption of man on his own account, we become
allied to that band of guardian angels whose mission it is to watch
over him and to stimulate in him impulses to resist that which is evil
and impure. We become guardian angels, and every effort we put forth
for the redemption of our fellow-man elevates our own souls. Hence the
remark of the poet:

“Heart thrills to heart
Throughout the wide domain of heavenly life;
Each angel forms a chain which in God’s throne begins,
And winds down to the lowest plane of earthly minds;
And only as each lifts his lower friend
Can each into superior joys ascend.”

We are told that we must seek our salvation. That is bad advice. He
that seeketh to save his life shall lose it. It is this very seeking
to save ourselves that damns us and the race. It is the very selfish
desire for salvation which allies us to the sphere of lust. The true
spirit is to seek to save our fellow-man; and as we can not save him
except by adapting our ideas to his needs, we must, as instruments
to his salvation, put away our lust. That effort will result in our
own salvation. There is but one way to save ourselves, and that is by
fitting ourselves as the instruments for the redemption of the world.
Laboring to redeem our outcast and down-trodden brother and sister is
the very best kind of labor to elevate ourselves, since it exercises in
us the true love for our fellow-men. Thus it appears that it is more
blessed to give than to receive.

I may go out into the streets some cold morning, and seeing a beggar,
stop and debate with myself whether he is worthy or not; or for
fear that I may refuse the right one, I may drop a sixpence in his
hand. From such an act I will not receive a blessing. But if I (in
forgetfulness of considerations of that kind, from the overflowings
of a loving heart, from a sincere desire to do good to a fellow-man
who is in need) give him alms, it is laying up treasure in heaven. I
have placed it at my Father’s disposal—have intrusted it to one of his
messengers.

We have a fashionable way of doing charities in this world. We do
not like to be troubled with charities. We are willing to be taxed
some—we are very generous to give sometimes; but then we do not want
the trouble of finding the object, and bestowing it with that love,
kindness, and sympathy of soul which carries more joy to the stricken
heart than the poor pittance. He needs it as much as he does your other
charities. But instead of taking this trouble, we raise contributions,
appoint a committee, and go and drop our gifts by machinery here and
there. If you will look up a poor sufferer some of these cold mornings,
and give but a dime, with a blessing, you will not only carry joy into
the heart of the suffering poor, but rejoicing into the Angel-spheres.
In that way you must cast your bread upon the water, and you will find
it after many days—will hear, eternally you will hear, the music of
that poor sufferer’s thankful heart. If you once in purity of soul,
in the pure affection of your heart, go and bestow a kindness from a
pure and fervent spirit, you will awaken a chord which will vibrate
harmoniously in your soul to all eternity.

As man develops in himself a love of his fellow-man irrespective of
exterior relation, but as a child of God, as possessing in his bosom
the germ of immortality, and as endowed with a facility of eternal
unfolding in the eternal future, he comes into the sphere of true
charity; and when his work is faithfully done here, he will enter upon
that reward which he has been laying up in heaven, where neither moth
nor rust corrupts, and where thieves do not break through and steal.

There is between the first and second spheres, speaking of them in the
affectional sense, another sphere, called the intellectual sphere.
Man as an intellectual being has loves or delights. The quality of
the intellect, you are aware, is to investigate, to think. Intellect
of itself has no affection, no sympathy. It can be allied with vice
or virtue. It can attend the missionary in his labor or the pirate in
his murderous work. It has of itself no conscience, no moral quality.
Hence you will find that men may be highly intellectual and vicious or
virtuous. Intellect can join upon vice or crime, and upon charity and
virtue, and that, too, without experiencing antagonism from such union.
Man may be developed intellectually without affecting particularly
his moral character. Intellect’s particular mission is to investigate
that which addresses the perception. It can join upon the sphere of
lust or the sphere of charity. Were it not for this, the selfish and
charitable natures could not unite in man, and there would be such
an antagonism in the individual, he could not be possibly developed
from the plane of his lustful nature to the plane of his moral nature.
Intellect is a sort of John Baptist that goes between the Moses and the
Christ of man’s nature. It does not partake of the lust of Moses nor of
the love of Christ. Its delights are sometimes mistaken for love, or
the joys of love. People often say of things which are beautiful that
they love them. They say that they _love_ the study of mathematics.
That expression seems to me to be improper. The heat of love is never
known to the cold intellect. The intellect can discourse eloquently
respecting justice and right; but, so far as the heart is concerned, it
may trample upon all justice. You will see men who, so far as theory
is concerned, will discourse eloquently concerning human justice and
morality, yet they utterly disregard and ignore all moral restraints
in their private character and practices. These men are babes in their
moral natures—they are less than babes. Intellect has to do with the
relations of things—pertains to dead matter. The difference between
intellect and morals is the difference between the essence and spirit
of matter and the essences or spirit of the soul. While science, which
belongs to the province of intellect, may harmoniously journey with the
moral affections, it may also journey with the sensuous affections. I
make these remarks so that you may not suppose that a man belongs to
the second sphere because of his having an intellectual character.

The second sphere is a finite one, and depends entirely upon relation
for its development, so that you can see at once that man could not
love in the second sphere of his being without some object to call
that love forth. The relational love, in this respect, is not like
the divine love which goes forth independent of any object. The
first sphere is objective in self; the second sphere is objective in
neighbor; and the third sphere is subjective in God.

The difference between this second sphere or love of the neighbor and
the third sphere or the love of the absolute in this: The second
sphere of love is objective, is not self-existent and self-sufficient;
it depends upon having an object to call it forth. The constitution
of mind is such that, in its consciousness, it can not love an object
without having perceived it, the perception being either an ideal
one or a real one. The love in point of quality depends, for its
perfectness, upon the perfectness of the object. Not so with the
infinite and divine love which is self-existent and self-sufficient.
Wherever it acts, it acts subjectively, not objectively, though it
is objective in its manifestation. Said Jesus of Nazareth, who was
deeply learned in this love, in speaking to the Jew who was to become
his disciple: “Ye have heard it said by those of old time, Thou shalt
love thy neighbor and hate thine enemy; but I say unto you, Love your
enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and
pray for them that despitefully use you; that you may be the children
of your Father which is in heaven; for he causeth his sun to shine
upon the evil and the good, and he sendeth his rain upon the just and
unjust.” Notice the figure. The sun shines not objectively. It shines
of its own nature. If the earth were to be blotted out of existence,
the sun would shine on still; and if every other planet in the solar
system should refuse to receive its light, the sun would continue to
shine. Its light and heat go forth in their own plenitude. Therefore if
you and I wish the sunlight, we have but to stand forth; but the sun
does not shine or send forth his heat because we are here. It does not
shine objectively but subjectively upon us. The sun, as a type of the
divine wisdom, continuously gives forth its light; and as a type of
divine love it constantly gives forth heat to build up finite forms.

The Divine Father does not stop to inquire, whether men love him or
not. His love is self-existent, self-sufficient, and goes forth of
its own divine plenitude, of its own infinite fulness, blessing every
being in every plane, according as he comes into the condition to
receive that blessing. God’s sun shines upon the field of the wicked
man as quick as upon the field of the righteous. This is bestowing
blessing upon a common plane. Man loves friend and curses foe, but
Christ says you must not make any difference. You must become like your
Father. You claim to be his children; therefore love your enemies,
seek good for all, whatever may be their affection for you. Christ’s
doctrine differed very much from what the world had heard before. It
had generally been supposed that God loved objectively. Christ taught
that God blessed every man according to the plane he occupied. God of
his infinite fulness will pour out all the blessings you are capable
of receiving. If you want all the joys of the third heaven, which are
inexpressible, bring your mind to love subjectively. Love God, not for
his use, not because he is going to bless you, but because there is
interior harmony and oneness between your soul and his—because your
heart thrills and throbs to his divine heart. Then you will reap the
blessings belonging to the divine plane. Man can only love an object by
having an object to love; but God is love; it is his nature to love and
bless; and whatever comes within the divine influence will be blessed
according to its capacity to receive the blessing; and every action,
every impulse, and every going forth of the divine in every plane is
but a manifestation of that divine love; so that when you and I have
perfected ourselves in loving our neighbor, have fulfilled the entire
law of charity to all mankind, we are yet to go into a higher and
holier love than that. We are to arise above this discrimination—we are
to come into a plane where, having received the divine life and love,
they shall go forth by their own plentitude to bless all around us, as
our Father blesses all. In other words, he is to sit as a refiner and
purifier of silver, and he is to purify us from all this dross, until
he sees his own image perfectly reflected in us. When we shall reflect
the divine image, there will be an indication that all dross is burned
away, and we shall be swallowed up in the divine will, though still
retaining our divine personality, our hearts beating with the great
heart that beats throughout the universe.

CHAPTER IV.

COMMUNICATION.

Communication proper belongs to the sphere of manifestation, and
signifies, as I use the term, the imparting by one, and the receiving
by another, of that which is imparted, or that which represents that
which is imparted. When we look at man as a finite being, born as
he is without conscious knowledge, and without conscious affection,
and developed from that negative point by that which flows or enters
into his consciousness and daguerreotypes itself there, we readily
see that he can only develop by being subject to the principles of
communication: that is, he must receive that which is without into
his consciousness; therefore it must be communicated to him. Hence
it becomes necessary for us to understand somewhat the laws of
communication. As communication belongs to the sphere of manifestation,
or the sphere of the finite, we must examine and see what are the means
by which man as a conscious being is addressed, and the law by which
the influence exerted upon him is governed.

The mind when looked at in its simplest nature consists of its
perceptions and its affections: that is, its knowledge, if you please,
and its love; but in the order of unfolding, perception, as a conscious
principle, precedes affection. That is, an individual as a finite
being can not love till he perceives an object to call forth that
love or affection. Whether it pertain to unconscious or to conscious
nature, he must perceive the object before the affection is known to
exist in his consciousness. For instance, a husband can know nothing
of conjugal love, neither can the wife, until the object calling it
forth exists in his or her perceptions. Neither can the mother love
her babe until the object exists in her perceptions. Neither can the
brother love brother or sister, or the child love its parents, until
they perceive the objects of their affection. So you understand what
I mean when I say in all finite natures perception precedes affection
as a conscious principle; hence the law of communication pertains to
perception and affection. As perception precedes affection, it is more
external, view it in what sphere you will. I am now using perception in
the sense of thought. The individual, by the means of communication,
may be addressed externally by first addressing his perceptions, and
thence through his perceptions addressing his affections; or he may
be addressed by first addressing his affections, and through them his
thoughts. I shall use for the purpose of convenience the expression
thought and affection.

Then the two methods by which individuals may be addressed are first
the external, and second the internal. The external communication flows
first into the thought, and the internal first into the affection. The
external proceeds from thought to affection, and the internal from
affection to thought. The one is by an outward language, by signs, and
symbols, and representatives of ideas; the other is without external
language, and is what is known as inspiration.

Now, as there are three planes of conscious being, conscious
perception, and conscious affection, and as the thought or perception
precedes the affection in the first or lowest plane, so it is in the
second; and it is the perception and affection in the third that
begets the affection in the divine sphere. But as I am speaking of
communication I am confining my remarks to the first two spheres—the
external physical sphere, and the spiritual or relational sphere;
for they are spheres of manifestation and communication, and have
reference to these finite spheres. When I complete the consideration
of these, I will make some remarks on the divine sphere, to show the
difference between it and those spheres below the divine. Take man,
then, as a mere animal being, looking at his nature as being nervous,
where his perceptions and affections have respect to his physical
being. Here the same law of order prevails—perception precedes
affection, and perception is external, while affection or love is
internal; but taken both together as constituting the animal nature, it
becomes external to his spiritual nature; but in his spiritual nature
perception precedes affection; hence, if we would communicate with him
spiritually, external language communicates first with thought, and
thence with the affection; while internal language communicates first
with the affection and thence with thought. Then external and internal
communication differ in this, that the external is by means of outward
language, and the internal is by means of a sort of inspiration.
There are inspirations pertaining to each of the three spheres—the
nerve-sphere, the spirit-sphere, and the divine-sphere. On coming into
_rapport_ with this audience, I through the nerve-medium by external
means perceive individuals about me—perceive their forms, their faces,
and their relative positions to each other; that is, by an external
medium which represents the individual through the nerve-medium to my
consciousness. But I may come internally into _rapport_ with these
individuals by bringing my nerve-system into harmony with their
nerve-system, and becoming negative to them. To explain: when I bring
my nerve-system into sympathy with you, I take your sensations upon
myself. If you have a pain in your head, I have a pain in my head also,
corresponding in location and character to yours; or if you experience
a pain in any other part of your body, I feel that pain. Not a word has
passed between us concerning it, but nevertheless it comes upon me,
and affects me in precisely the same manner that it does you. Now this
I consider analogous to the inspiration which belongs to the higher
plane. This is the inspiration of the nerve-sympathy. Permit me to
explain briefly what I understand by harmony; because the great law of
harmony is fundamental to a comprehension of the law of inspiration.

You are aware that if we take two strings of equal length and tension,
and vibrate one of them, its vibration communicates its motion to
the atmosphere, and through the atmosphere to the adjoining string,
so that they at length vibrate together. This experiment may be
made by any one; and it will be found that in this manner they can
be caused to give forth the same sound, because the length of the
vibrations of each will be the same; and when there is a difference in
the tone, it will be found that there is a difference in the length
of the vibrations. This fact can be demonstrated by varying the
vibrations—by tightening or loosening the strings, and thus shortening
or lengthening the vibrations, when it will be perceived that the
shorter the vibration the higher will be the pitch or tone. The length
of vibration, then, determines the question of harmony. Here appears
the great law of harmony in musical sound throughout the universe,
which is commensurability. In mathematics, things which will mutually
measure each other are said to be commensurable. Now these spheres of
atmospheric vibration will always produce concord or harmony of sound.
The difference between a third and a fifth is in the difference in the
tone, and the difference in tone depends, as already said, upon the
length of vibration. The sweetest harmony is the apparent discord,
where the vibrations do not chord, but where every fifth coincides;
and in this way produces the harmony of the third and fifth. The
octave produces it by being repeated twice, so that after all the real
octave is as the square of the octave; that is, the octave multiplied
into itself; and you arrive mathematically at the law of harmony by
following out that principle. The point to which I wish to call your
attention is, that what constitutes harmony is simply commensurability
in the atmospheric undulations.

Now my nerve-fluid moves by pulsatory movements, as move all other
media, and these movements sustain to those of your nerve-fluid
commensurable or incommensurable relations; and you will find that
the law of musical harmony, by which one of two strings having
the same tension communicates its motion to the other, is the law
which determines the harmony between my nerve-system and yours. I
am constituted to speak upon a certain key, like an instrument. My
nerve-vibrations undulate to that key, and when I am in perfect
health, there is perfect harmony in my system. Your nerve-undulations
are perhaps tuned on a different key, and if you are positive to
me, my nerve-undulation will not move yours, nor yours mine, but
they will resist each other like two strings unequally tuned. So my
nerve-vibration will not communicate its undulations to you, nor will
yours communicate its undulations to me, unless we happen to be upon
the same key, or in harmonic or commensurable relations with one
another. But in order to get our nerve-systems to undulate one upon the
other, I must either become negative to you or you must become negative
to me. If I relax the key of my nerve-vibration, I shall change them
until my nerve-system undulates in harmony with your nerve-system;
and I being negative and you positive, you undulate to my key, and
we get nerve-sensations between us without any sign. The individual
in mesmerizing his subject becomes positive, and he will succeed in
mesmerizing that subject just as soon as he brings about a harmony of
nerve-vibration, so that the nerve-vibrations of both are alike. The
condition is that the operator places himself in a positive position,
while the subject must become negative, by allowing his nerves to
become relaxed; then the operator commences by a strong effort to
undulate, so to speak, his nerve-influence or forces upon the medium,
until the medium sinking down comes to his key; and then he by his
forces insulates the system, and the individual passes rapidly into
the condition of mesmerism; but do any thing to disturb that medium,
so as to make the points of nerve-tension unyielding, and the operator
may work till doomsday in vain. It is not till the points have yielded
and the vibrations harmonize with his that he can produce the effect
upon the medium. This is on the same principle with the phenomena
exhibited in experiments with the string, which is a type of the law of
communication in every sphere—the vibration of the string represents
the entire law.

Take one string whose points of tension are unyielding, and another
whose points of tension are yielding; then cause one of them to
undulate, and it will impart its motion to the atmosphere, when the
atmosphere will strike upon the other; and if it have the same points
of tension that the other has, it will undulate; but if it have not
the same tension, it will receive the influence of the atmosphere,
the tendency of which will be to depress it and bring it to its own
vibration; thus eventually the two strings will be made to harmonize.
So when we sit down to mesmerize a person, he may be so positive that
we do not at first succeed, perhaps, in producing the least impression
upon him. We try again and again, and at last succeed in controlling
the nerve-system, and through that the mental system of the subject. We
are each time we try reducing the nerve-system to our key or standard,
and the moment it is reduced to that point, the subject is under the
operator’s control, and not till then. When I speak of the harmonic
action of one system upon another, it will be perceived that I speak
of the relative measure or length of the nerve-undulation which passes
between one mind and another. In the nerve-plane there is this method
of addressing the nervous perceptions by external means—by language, by
signs, by pantomimic representations. And there is the internal method
corresponding to inspiration, which consists in coming into nervous
sympathy and receiving nervous sensations one from another. A sensitive
person looking upon a wound shrinks from beholding the sight, and there
are real sensations experienced in his nervous system which have been
produced, not because a nerve-influence has acted upon him, but because
he has seen the wound. The impression first fell upon his conscious
perceptions, and then went to his feelings, which is analogous to
the principle that the idea first comes into the thought, and thence
reaches the feelings.

In the second plane—the mental or Spiritual plane—the same law
prevails. There is the external method of addressing the mind, and
there is also an internal method. The external is the method by which
the mind is addressed first through the thought, and the internal
is that by which the mind is addressed through the feelings. These
two methods obtain in the whole plane of manifestation. If I wish to
communicate with you, I must adopt one of these two methods; and if I
am not in spiritual or nervous _rapport_ with you, I must adopt one
of the methods of external communication, and address you by signs or
outward representations—addressing first the thought or understanding,
and coming thence to the affection indirectly. In all external
methods, as well as in internal methods, media of communication become
necessary. In speaking to you it becomes necessary that there should
be some external media between you and me, and my communication must
be through that media. In the present case, my speaking to you is
performed through the physical atmosphere. I undulate my organs of
speech to produce sound, and the atmosphere connects them with your
organs of hearing, so that my mind, through my organs of speech, is
connected with your mind. The method of communication is to transmit
the actions of my organs of speech to your organs of hearing. Without
this external medium I could not communicate with you by an external
language.

Were I to address, not the ear, but the eye, there must be between us
an external medium which addresses the eye; and that medium is the
light which takes up the image of that which I would represent, and
transmits it to your consciousness through the eye. So also in respect
to the nerve-medium. If I would communicate an impression through
the nerve-medium, there must be that medium external to me which
corresponds to the action of the nerve-fluid in you and me—there must
be a medium between us which takes up my action and transmits it to
you, and makes it your action. So with the mental medium. If I am to
stand here, and you are to come into _rapport_ with me, and I am to
impress my thoughts upon you without external language, there must be
a medium corresponding to these thoughts, and that medium must come
down from me to you; and while I have power to awaken its vibration,
its vibration must have power to awaken the same impression in you.
Hence, then, in respect to all communication, there must necessarily be
media connecting one with the other, who are all concerned in making
and receiving the communication; and the medium must be such that it
will extend from the one to the other. It must be continuous also; for
if there be any interruption in the media, the communication can not be
transmitted. For illustration, if I would address your consciousness
through sound, the atmosphere, as the medium, must be continuous
between you and me; for if you interpose a vacuum, you can not transmit
the action through it, the connection being destroyed. So in regard
to light. Interpose any medium which will not allow the light to pass
through it, and I can not transmit the image by means of light. So also
the nerve-medium must be continuous, in order to admit of transmitting
communication through it. The mental medium must likewise be
continuous, or I can not represent my thought through it. You perceive,
then, this universal law in respect to communication between one mind
and another, that there must necessarily intervene a medium, which must
be continuous between them, and it must be such as to awaken action
in the one, and transmit and awaken the same action in the other. It
matters not what the plane is. They all come under the same law.

Before I, by my simple will-power, can transmit a thought or idea or
impression of my mind to you, there must be something between us which
can take up and repeat that idea, or record it in your consciousness.
If there be anything to interrupt this medium, I can not transmit
that thought; so that any power whatever which can interrupt that
medium can interrupt the communication. Hence, again, it appears
that in all communication between one being and another, there must
necessarily interpose a medium, which must be continuous from the
communicator to the one receiving the communication. This brings us
to the consideration of other conditions necessary for communication
between two minds—the difference between the thing, the being, or the
existence itself, and that by which it is made known to the mind. I
stand here before you. You can see me. I am then present in each one
of your minds. I am present by my form, as well as by the sound of my
voice. How many of me are there here? One, of course. How many do you
see? How many of my mental images are here? Just as many as there are
eyes to look. My image is that by which you see me. My image is not
in your mind in reality; it is represented in your mind by something
proceeding from me to you. My form is multiplied and repeated wherever
there is an eye to see the image which proceeds from this form. If
there are two or three hundred persons present, I have two or three
hundred spiritual forms; and if there were ten thousand present, I
should have ten thousand spiritual forms. There is a difference, then,
between the form itself and that which represents the form, and you
should make this distinction. You may take as many positions as there
are mathematical points in this room, and place an eye in each, and
my form will be represented in all of these points. The means, then,
by which you, through the eye, become conscious of my presence here,
is omnipresent in this room. I am not omnipresent, but that which
represents me is omnipresent, and that by which mind becomes conscious
of me is omnipresent.

There is never any existence to the mind in the sphere of
manifestation, except by representation. We talk as though we saw the
sun, moon, and stars, and not as though we saw their representations;
but in regard to all things external or manifestational, man in all
forms only perceives the representation; and when the representation
corresponds to the reality, he has the truth. Now in looking at these
lights, the light is not in your mind, but its representation is
there. It is there by that which represents it. Then you must make
a distinction between the omnipresence of being and of that which
represents being. In respect to all means by which the mind perceives
existence external to its consciousness, it is true that it only
perceives it by representation, and not by its presence. Existence
in every department is represented to your mind, and mind by its
representation, and not by its absolute presence, perceives it.
Understand this distinction, and it will explain a great many mysteries
you have had to contend with in times past. As you perceive my form
by that which represents it to you, and as that which represents
it is omnipresent in this room, while my form, from which these
representations flow, has but one position, so also, if you should
remove these walls many feet, or even miles, making this room many
miles in extent, my form would be omnipresent in all this space, and
the mind that perceived me would perceive me by that representation of
form, and not by my presence.

Now then, understanding this law, we will be very careful in all our
investigations of communication to distinguish between the presence
of the thing itself and the presence of that which represents it.
Did I wish to communicate with a Spirit, who has unfolded in him a
Spirit-consciousness, which can be addressed in another way than
through the physical eye or ear or touch, and being so divested of
this physical form that my mind comes in absolute contact with this
Spirit-medium which permeates all space, and which internally and
spiritually corresponds to light external and physical, and passes
freely through bodies opaque to light—then my Spirit-form acts upon
that Spirit-medium which is not impeded by this wall, but which passes
through it as light through transparent glass, carrying my image with
it. We say that glass is transparent, because light passes freely
through it, and brings the image of that which it would represent.
We see an individual or tree coming freely through the glass into
the room. Now if we have a medium which will pass as freely through
a board, then that board is as transparent to that medium as glass
is to light. The magnetic medium, by which the magnetic needle is
influenced, passes freely through a board even; therefore to that
medium the board is as transparent as glass is to light. It is also
well to understand that this nerve-medium, as well as the spiritual
medium corresponding to the mind—which is to the mind what the medium
of light is to the eye—passes freely through these opaque bodies.
Therefore the individual brought in contact with this medium will
see Spirit-existences, not by their presence in the consciousness,
but by that which represents the presence there. Hence it is that the
clairvoyant (when you have proceeded with your manipulation until
you have insulated the mind, or brought it into clear _rapport_ with
this spiritual medium or atmosphere so that he sees by the spiritual
sight and hears with the spiritual ear, and no longer sees with the
physical eye, or hears with the physical ear) comes in contact with
this spiritual medium, and can look out into another room, and tell
what is transpiring, who is there, etc., just as we can look through
glass and tell what we see. The principle is precisely the same. The
medium by which he perceives things in another room freely permeates
or passes through the intervening walls; so that although my spiritual
form is still in this body, yet it is actually exerting its influence
on this spiritual medium throughout the world—throughout not only
this world, but throughout the solar system. Wherever this spiritual
medium extends, this spiritual image of mine is taken and carried
out through that medium, just as my physical image is carried out
through the medium of light; and whoever comes into _rapport_ with
that Spirit-medium and influence, and undulates to the same motion,
will perceive that form. Hence coming into the clairvoyant condition
I may see a person in London, if it so happen that the undulation
of my mind on this medium be such as to harmonize with that of the
individual in London—not that his spirit is personally here present,
or my spirit personally present there (but I am here in my own
spirit-consciousness, and he there in his spirit-consciousness), but
because his image as well as mine is here and there and everywhere
else. The idea that my mind goes to London, or his comes here, is
altogether a misconception. I perceive that individual in London, not
by his absolute presence, but by that which represents that presence
here; just as I see you, not by your presence in my mind, but by that
which represents your presence there. It is in this way that persons in
the body are at times seen as though in distant places; that is, they
are seen by that spiritual image which is present, where the mind is
unfolded so as to perceive by the spiritual medium, and happens to be
in _rapport_ so as to undulate to the same motion with that of the mind
of the individual it perceives.

Standing here this evening, I may be seen in Philadelphia, because
my image is there, as well as in every other place on earth; and the
individual, let him be where he may, who happens to be in _rapport_
with me, will perceive me as though I were present where he is,
and all the imagery by which I am surrounded. I am looking on this
congregation, and therefore the person seeing me, sees me surrounded by
this congregation. He does not see you, but since you are in my mind,
your image goes with mine. The person coming into _rapport_ with me,
sees you as your image exists in my mind. The idea that persons whose
external forms are in different places, communicate with each other
by being present one with the other, is altogether a mistaken one. So
far as the external or relational is concerned—so far as the finite or
manifestational is concerned—we communicate externally only by that
medium which represents that which we investigate or perceive; and that
is the peculiarity of arriving at knowledge through what is called the
sphere of manifestation. The difference between being and manifestation
is seen in that law.

If any one doubts this law, I am ready to be questioned. Bring up
any case you please, either from the natural or the Spiritual world,
and I will show that that is the law. I say it is altogether a
fallacious idea that Spirits can not communicate without being actually
present—the idea that Spirits can not communicate in New York, London,
Liverpool, or any other place in the world at the same moment, is
altogether a fallacious idea. They can be present wherever there is a
mind in _rapport_ with them to see that presence. People talk about
their being so rapid in their passage from here to Boston or London,
and wonder how they can go over the ground so quick. This is all
explained when you understand the law of manifestation. There is no
apparent difference of time between London and any other place—it is
only a relative difference—merely a question of relation. This, then,
being the law of communication and manifestation, we will just notice
one thing further, which will explain why it is that individuals are
obliged to come into certain states to receive communications, and
will answer many other questions, among which are, “Why are not all
mediums?” “Why can not all get communications?” “Why is it that one who
can get a communication at one time can not at another?” Ten thousand
such questions are pressed every day, when the law is just as simple as
that two and two make four.

If we wish to get a communication we must conform to the conditions
required by the law; and if we do not conform to those conditions,
God himself could not give it to us. The laws of manifestation and
communication are as fixed and immutable as God’s own being. Our
business is to comply with the conditions, and then take what follows.
We need not stop to quarrel because it requires a wire rather than a
tow-string to make a good telegraph. It is enough for us to know that
it is so, and conform to the conditions.

The great law by which all action producing result, producing
development and communication, is governed, is the one to which
I first referred—the law of commensurability in form and motion.
All development comes under that law. The law of triunes, the law
of sevens, and the law of twelves, are all wrought out by that
simple law. You can not develop in any key except you comply with
that law. Commensurability tends to produce harmonious results,
while incommensurability tends to produce discord and death—the
difference between concord and discord marks the difference between
commensurability and incommensurability in form and motion.

We have several different departments of our systems, I have a vital,
a nervous, and a mental system, each of which has actions peculiar to
itself—actions which sustain to each other certain relations, either
commensurable or incommensurable. Now, when my spiritual and vital
systems act upon the same key, there is harmony between my internal
and external forms; but if they do not undulate to the same key—if
there is not harmonious action between my mind and spirit, I can not
be a medium for physical communication, for the same reason that if
you graft a peach upon an apple, you can not make it grow (according
to my information). It is because the vital action between them is an
incommensurable action. Now, whenever my mental action is too intense
for my nerve or vital action, if you will by any means reduce my mental
action so that it may harmonize with my nervous action, perhaps I will
get physical manifestations peculiar to myself. I was once one of those
things called mediums, and am now, perhaps, to some extent. When I was
partially asleep there would be very loud raps, and if you could come
in without waking me up you might get a communication, and it has ever
been so when I am peculiarly quiet mentally; but the moment I rouse
up and ask questions I can get no reply. There are others who require
exactly opposite conditions, whose bodies are too active for their
minds, in whose presence you can get rappings by reducing the action
of the body. But you change them from that point, the manifestation
ceases. There are other individuals who in the normal state seem to
comply with all the conditions necessary; that is, whose vital and
nervous actions are the same; but you make them angry or stir up within
them feelings of dread or fear, and your manifestations cease, simply
because there is no harmonic action between the mental and physical
systems.

Persons boast, at times, of being able to destroy the power of
mediums; but nothing could be simpler, for a powerful battery may
have its action stopped by lifting out the connecting wire, simply
by disarranging the conditions of its action. It is often the case
that the entrance of a person into a circle where manifestations are
occurring, causes their discontinuance, and the person is perhaps
astonished to think the Spirits should be so contrary. It was simply
because he had come in and violated the conditions by which they
could manifest. He had, so to speak, disturbed one of the plates of
the battery. The law to which your attention is called, is this great
law of commensurability in form and motion; or, in other words, the
law of harmonic action, which is manifested not only in the material
plane, but unfolded in every degree upon the conscious plane. In
consequence of this law the communication between spheres differing in
their characteristics must necessarily be external; that is, I can not
communicate with an individual by the internal method, or the method
of inspiration, except he is on the same plane with myself. Perhaps
there is not one individual here so exactly on the same nerve-plane
with myself, that I could communicate with him without signs; yet I
can reveal my form so that you can all see me, by an external method,
though we belong, perhaps, to very different planes. We can all
communicate by external language, provided in our communications, we
take that plane of communication which will be familiar to all present.
This is the law existing between minds out of the physical body. One
mind out of the physical body may communicate with another out of the
physical body, by an external means, when he can not by the internal.
The external means does not come directly to the affection. The vulgar
and the profane man may speak to the refined mind by means of speech
so as to shock the feelings; but he can not speak by his sympathy.

One class of individuals in the sphere of lust—in what we call the low
and polluted plane—can not come into _rapport_ with those occupying a
higher plane. There is an “impassable gulf” between them. Nevertheless,
by the external language which addresses the external being, the
thought or perception, they may be able to communicate. The same law of
communication applies in the Spiritual world. If angels are employed
as messengers, they communicate by an external language; because their
thoughts can not flow into the lower affection—the lower can not
respond to them. If a Spirit in Paradise wishes to communicate with
one in the sphere of lust, he must take upon himself the conditions
of lust, or he can not communicate by the internal method. He can
not communicate by the internal method, because the conditions are
dissimilar. Communications made to us from a higher plane must be
external, and must be addressed to our thought; and if they operate
upon our affection, must flow from the thought into the affection. It
is for this reason that God, the Divine, can not communicate with man,
the imperfect and finite, except by means of those who can receive
truth from the Divine, and who can externally communicate it to those
below.

Spirits under a higher and more perfect law can not come and inspire us
in our polluted condition, but they can, by means of external language,
draw us from our low condition of lust, and bring us to a plane where
a Spirit nearer to our plane may by influx come into us and develop
within us the true affection; but the high spirit can not do it. Hence
it is that there is a gradation between the highest and lowest—that

“Angels form a chain which in God’s burning throne begins, And winds
down to the lowest plane of earthly things.”

I may possibly receive a communication from a higher plane by
abstracting myself from the lusts and evils of the world, by sending
forth my highest, and holiest, and purest aspirations after all that is
pure and good—for a moment elevating my condition to a higher plane.
That is the condition of true prayer. While in that condition a Spirit
of that higher plane may, by influx, raise me up and hold me in that
condition. That is, the true effect of the condition known as prayer,
is to separate you from the lusts and passions of the world—every
thing which is tending to degrade you. Then by fixing your mind on
your highest perception, and that which is pure, and true, and holy,
you elevate yourself above the plane on which you naturally move—bring
yourself where a higher angel can reach down and raise you up.
Therefore, though prayer does not change the state of the soul, yet it
is one of the conditions by which we climb to the higher spheres. You
know the direction in regard to prayer was, “when you pray do not go
into the public places and talk a great deal, thinking God is going to
hear you for your much speaking.”

The object of prayer is not to inform God—to change his mind—therefore
when you pray, retire from the world and all outward influences, and
if necessary go into a room, and shut the world out with all its
influences; and then, in the secret aspirations of your soul, raise
your thoughts and desires to the infinite, perfect, and undying, that
you may bring yourself within the plane of blessing—within the plane
of that influence which can elevate you. If God could come down to
our plane, and by the influx of his Spirit into our consciousness
could enlighten our understandings and purify our hearts, there is no
excuse for its not being done. He is infinite, and there is an infinite
fullness in him; but the reason he does not, is that he can not. It is
impossible that God should lie, and it would be lying if he should do
this.

Conditions can not be at the same time unlike and like—at the same time
discordant and harmonious; the plane of lust can not harmonize with the
plane of love. The plane of man in his low condition can not harmonize
with the plane of the Divine in his infinitely elevated, pure, and holy
condition. Therefore if a man would receive God into his consciousness,
he must put himself into the condition to receive influx; and if he
would have an influx from a pure Spirit, he must become pure and holy
himself. If God did not teach Moses so that he could understand all
truth, as did the Man of Nazareth, and understand the great principle,
“Thou shalt not resist evil by evil,” it was because he did not occupy
the plane of inspiration. He occupied a plane where there could be
external manifestations, which he had, but he could not receive a great
universal law, because he was not on the plane of the internal and
divine. The inspiration of Paul, Peter, Luke, and John, was not equal
to that of their Teacher, because they had not arisen to his elevated
condition; had they occupied his plane, God could have communicated as
well to them as to their Teacher; and it would not have been necessary
for them to have a middle-man to come between them and God.

When you have risen to the plane of communication, the communication
is internal. You have no outward form of expression, because you have
the thought itself by inspiration. In the language of the Apostle, God
writes his language in your understanding and in your affections. All
communication with the spiritual world proceeding according to this
law, each man’s communication will be according to his plane; if in
the low plane of lust, his communications will be of that character;
if in the plane of love, his communications will be of that character.
But even the lowest, by putting himself in the condition of prayer, by
aspiring for the good and the holy, by putting up earnest petitions for
aid, will always find a Spirit near to sustain and elevate him.

CHAPTER V.

PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESSION.

If we wish to arrive at an accurate knowledge of any subject, we must
endeavor to ascertain what is fundamental to that subject. If we need
to investigate accurately any science, we need to inform ourselves as
early as possible of the fundamental principles pertaining to that
science. There is no better way to study the history of creation than
by studying it as revealed in the phenomena of Nature. When I can
investigate Nature in her operations, and ascertain the laws by which
she performs her work, I then can arrive—at least approximately—at
the philosophy of Nature, in attaining which I attain the philosophy
of divine manifestation. There can be no interpolation there. The
Divine Artificer works alone in the fields of Nature, and where I
can discover the manifestation of wisdom and power, there I come
directly into communication with the Divine Being in that plane of
action and manifestation; and when I learn what the law of action and
manifestation is in that department, I learn so much of the method
of the divine work, or of the divine order. I propose, then, briefly
to call your attention to the teachings of God upon this subject of
progression, as manifested in the fields of Nature; and will then ask
you to accompany me in endeavoring to ascertain what are some of its
fundamental laws.

Were I to inquire what is the apparent design of everything we behold,
we must see that it is pointing to the ultimating of an individualized,
immortal, intelligent being, who should be capable of understanding
all truth, and being perfected in every true affection. Everything
tends to bring about that great result—the unfolding of an immortal
being. God and the material universe seem to be laboring to beget an
individualized being in the image of both God and the universe—God as
the absolute and infinite, and matter as the finite, uniting, produce a
being which partakes of both the absolute or infinite and the finite.
When viewed from one plane he is infinite; when viewed from another
plane he is finite; so that between God and matter man is mediate. I
would say, then, in simple language, God is the father of the spirit,
and matter the mother of his form. The first step in the path of
unfolding, as taught by Nature, is that of individualizing form. The
next step is that of individualizing life, of producing individuality.
The last step is that of producing personality, making the individual a
personal being. The form is necessarily finite. The mind can conceive
of it only as finite, and as composed of that which is the absolute,
finite matter, which, separate from the divine being, has no life or
power. It is not self-sufficient nor conscious.

If we can suppose that matter shall be divested from all connection
with media which can impress upon it a condition, we speak of it as
being amorphous matter, or matter without form. If we unite it then
with one medium, as electricity, we find it tending to produce the
gaseous condition, the nebular condition. Form is not yet attained.
If we unite with it still another medium which is a little different
from electricity, forms of the mineral kingdom are produced. We
have here the first degree of form, but as yet there is not life
or individuality. Now the next advance is to induce in that form a
condition which shall make it receptive of life, for that which is to
be individualized is life. So, then, in passing through the elaborating
influences of the mineral kingdom, it arrives at a certain point, a
sort of culminating point, where it joins upon the vegetable kingdom;
and the line between these kingdoms is passed by such imperceptible
gradations—so slow in the unfolding of forms—that it is impossible for
the naturalist to tell accurately where the one begins and where the
other ends; but the vegetable kingdom is manifestly begun when there is
found the incorporation of a new principle into a new form—a principle
looking to organization—giving matter an organic structure. When the
principle known as the life-force is introduced, then it is understood
that mineral has passed and the vegetable is commenced. As soon as this
is unfolded, we have a second advance of form—life in its first degree;
or, in other words, individualization commences. Form has passed to its
second degree, and goes on elaborating degree after degree, producing
diverse organic forms, until it is prepared to receive another and a
more interior principle—consciousness—until by imperceptible degrees
we arrive at the animal kingdom. We have then the animal form, the
third or finishing degree of form, and the second degree of life,
and the first degree of consciousness. Man in his animal nature is
the completion; of the highest form. Life has yet one more degree to
pass through; consciousness has yet two more degrees to pass through
before it is complete. The next advance is to a higher principle of
consciousness—to a more enduring principle of life, without changing
the material form, and that is to the spiritual degree of unfolding.

Looking to the highest types of the animal and the lowest types of men,
we will observe that they approach very near to each other. Naturalists
have been divided in opinion as to whether or not man was an animal
projected on a little higher plane, and whether or not the difference
is not merely one of degree. I say that when man is developed, we find
him developing or individualizing a higher principle. Individuality
was first started in the vegetable; the principle of vitality in the
animal. The second degree of individuality was where the animal became
individualized on a higher plane of life, on a plane of consciousness
belonging to what we call the nerve-medium. Man individualizes upon the
second degree of consciousness and the third degree of life, completing
an individuality. He becomes to us the highest type of form and life in
the finite; and a large class of philosophers and theologians conceive
man as formed in the divine image, and suppose the expression that God
made man in his own image, to refer to an external as well as internal
likeness.

Man as an individual occupies the highest plane; he has attained to the
third degree of life as a Spiritual being, consequently he becomes
immortal. If the third degree of life brings man into communion with
the self-living and divine, he becomes immortal; if not, then he is
not immortal; for that only is immortal which receives into itself
that which is self-living, self-sufficient, and self-existent, that
which can not be dissolved or disorganized. If man has not attained
to that plane which joins upon that which is self-existent, he is not
immortal. The simple fact that man can think, will, and act, proves
nothing for his immortality. The dog can act, and think, and will, but
that does not make the animal immortal. Those who base immortality
upon that, do not perceive its real basis. Man becomes immortal by his
_relation_ to that which is self-existent and self-sufficient, and
has that self-sufficient condition brought into him by induction. He
receives it by a sort of divine induction. I have brought in a chart
to illustrate the principle of induction or the law of progression.
You observe that man stands at the head of form and life, though not
at the head of consciousness. He is as a finite being produced only to
the second degree of consciousness. That is the last step man took.
Man has advanced to the second degree of consciousness, which looks
to the relational and finite, hence man as a moral being, as a finite
being; and that which he investigates in virtue of his faculties as a
moral being must be finite. He can therefore only investigate in the
sphere of the finite. The moment he attempts to embrace the infinite,
and translate that into the finite, that moment he is pushing his
investigations beyond his development.

But there is not only this second degree of consciousness, which
notices the relation, but there is a third degree, which notices or
perceives the absolute. It perceives not only outward form and mediate
relation, but the absolute essence of all being. Man attains to that,
not because that third nature is individualized in him, but because
by reason of its conjunction upon that condition which is known as
the absolute, he has that condition in him by a sort of induction—a
non-individualized condition, a sort of resident divinity in him, gives
him this third degree.

Now permit me to illustrate the principle of induction. You understand,
when electric conditions are produced, that there is such a thing
as causing them by induction. You understand that negative attracts
positive, and that positive attracts negative—that where these opposite
conditions prevail there is a tendency to bring them together. Similar
conditions repel, and opposite conditions attract, each other. We
understand that all electrical currents are double—that there is
a primary and a secondary current. In vitality, in nerve-aura, in
whatever acts as a medium, there is a double current. The second
current is within the primary, and runs in the opposite direction.
It is more interior than the primary. Now, if I have a body charged
positively, and I bring it into a certain relation to another body, it
imparts its electricity to it. This is called producing the condition
by induction. I speak now of progression under this law of induction.

Suppose, now, that we take the two great principles of
life—consciousness and action on the one hand, and death,
unconsciousness, or inertia on the other hand—one being impartive and
the other negative and receptive. God on the one hand and matter on
the other. (Pardon me for speaking of God as a principle, the subject
requires it. Whatever is attempted to be explained in language must
necessarily be considered as finite.) Now, whatever pertains to the
divine and absolute on the one hand, the very opposite pertains to
matter on the other hand; hence we speak of the sufficiency of Deity
and the inertia of matter. This principle of inertia, however, is as
essential to the development of form and individuality in the finite
as the principle of consciousness is to the conscious being. Without
the two conditions, that which is mediate could not be elaborated or
produced. God’s creative agency, the positive current, passes out upon
matter, from which there is a current returning to mind, in which
negative current individualization takes place. The returning current
first begins to elaborate form; next, with the progress of matter,
comes individuality; next, personality. The formative principle is in
the secondary current, which produces induction; but that which is
interior to form and elaborates it is the induced or positive current,
which partakes of the positive or energetic action of the divine
current, so to speak. In this way, by induction, form after form is
elaborated and made to become the receptive of certain conditions.
Matter has no power of itself, but at the same time is receptive of
influences or conditions.

Two theories have prevailed respecting the origin of man. One is what
we call the theory of supernaturalism, which supposes that the divine
being, at a certain period of time, when every other condition was
fulfilled, came down, and by special power formed man in his present
shape, and imparted to him his present spiritual life; and that from
that man thus formed, and a woman formed for his companion, sprang
all the rest of the human family. Others, who adhere to this idea in
general, suppose that there was a plurality of parents, from whom the
human race have proceeded. The opposite theory is, that man has been
developed from the animal kingdom—that he is a development of the
animal in a higher plane. This theory was advocated by La Marc. Now,
I believe in neither theory. The truth lies between the two. In the
outset I made this remark, which I intended to be understood as meaning
all that it implied: that God is the Father of the spirit, while matter
is the mother of the form. Matter is finite in all its attributes and
qualities. God is infinite in all his attributes and qualities. Man is
taken from the finite in his lower plane. His form is nourished and fed
by its connection with the finite, and when the spirit is separated
therefrom, this portion of man goes to decay; and so far as he is
concerned as an individual, he is no more. On the other hand, man comes
from the infinite, in the higher department of his being, so that man
partakes of both the finite and the infinite. He is in the image of his
mother, as well as of his father. He is created in the image of God and
the image of matter. He has both an individuality and a personality.
In his finity he is an individual; in his divinity he is personal.
Therefore man contains in himself all the germinal elements of the
universe, and also the representative elements of the Divine Being.

As a being of form man became receptive of conditions. The mineral
eventually became receptive of the principle of life, which developed
the vegetable kingdom. The moment this life-principle began to work in
producing organic structure and multiplying relations and conditions,
a variety of forms succeeded, until forms were brought to such a point
that they became receptive of a higher principle—the nerve principle
or consciousness, and the animal kingdom was the result. The vegetable
kingdom only produced the form. The spirit came into it by induction
from the other direction. The vegetable did not produce the animal;
it merely produced the conditions by which this conscious principle
could be induced into the individuality developed by the vegetable.
That individuality was raised out of the vegetable and placed upon the
animal plane, and a new kingdom was born by the application of the
law of commensurability. Eventually form was elaborated through the
entire animal kingdom until the highest form the nerve-principle could
produce, was produced.

The human form was elaborated through the animal kingdom, but the
spirit was not elaborated there. When the nerve-principle had done its
best, had fulfilled its highest possible condition, and had brought
form to join upon spirit, the condition of spirit was induced into
this form; and the induction of that spirit raised the form of the
animal kingdom into the human kingdom; and the first man thus stood
forth, produced by the divine breath breathing into him, consequently
the difference between the lowest man and the highest animal was very
slight. The man, to be sure, takes his animal body, appetites, senses,
and the laws which govern in the development of his body, from the
animal, but not that which pertained to his spiritual, nature. It
received this from above by the induction of the divine principle which
took hold of the form and raised him out of the animal kingdom; so
that man does not trace his parentage to the animal but to God. He has
been begotten by the spirit and power of God, operating through every
plane of being and action from the crystal to the divine. I detract
nothing from the divine wisdom and power when I say that God works in
an orderly and methodic manner. Forms are of the earth, but the spirit
is from heaven. The first man is of the earth, earthy; the second man
is the lord from heaven.

Every operation on the material side of the universe looks to the
ultimating of a form which shall be so perfect as to become receptive
of a spirit which shall be capable of living forever, of being
conscious of all that is, of being truly affected by that which it
perceives. There is not an operation in nature, not even the progress
of the comet in its path, which does not look to the production of
a human being, the production of an immortal soul. There is not a
manifestation of power or wisdom in the world which is not laboring and
conspiring to accomplish this great end of producing a son, a child of
God, which shall be capacitated to be receptive of its divine origin.
We shall eventually see that every law which we now think is working
for destruction, is but the going forth of the divine power to produce
the being, man.

I said that man was not immortal in consequence of his
spirit-individuality alone. The reason that man is immortal is very
manifest. The highest principle in the animal individuality is the
nerve-principle, the principle of consciousness which can perceive
material forms and material phenomena. That interior principle is not
unfolded in the animal. The inmost principle of the animal, I grant,
is spiritual, but that principle is not individualized. The animal has
only the nerve-principle, but in the spirit-principle; and joining
perceive facts and phenomena; but he can not perceive relations—has
no desire after relations—and knows nothing of moral duties. He can
not be active in that way, because his highest individuality is his
mere nervous individuality. God does not breathe into the animal that
breath of life which makes him a living soul. But man is individualized
not only in this nerve-principle, but in the spirit-principle; and
joining upon the infinite he does take the divine breath into him as
the inmost principle of his being. Man is immortal by his relation to
the self-sufficient and self-existent. It is his _relation_ to God that
makes him immortal. The animal is not immortal, because he has not
this relation. Man having this higher principle individualized in him
becomes a religious being.

In the example heretofore cited of Sir Isaac Newton and his dog
perceiving the falling of an apple, the dog was seen as observing only
the fact, while Sir Isaac Newton observed the law, which he called
gravitation; yet not being developed in his divine consciousness, which
perceives the absolute and divine, he could not tell the absolute cause
of the phenomenon. The dog is in the manifestational sphere, while Sir
Isaac Newton was developed in the manifestational and relational,
but not yet in the absolute, but was capable of being developed in
that sphere by induction. Man is therefore a microcosm. He has all
those conditions which pertain to the universe. He is its fruit. There
are three stages in the development of man: first, form; second,
individuality; third, personality—to which Jesus made allusion in
speaking of the development of fruit, saying that there was first the
blade, next the ear, and after that the full corn. Man, standing at the
head of the development, is the fruit of the universe. He is the grand
ultimate of all preceding action. He is the footings-up of all that is
and all that has been. There is no condition of being not a condition
of relation in the wide universe which man does not contain in some
department of his being; and just as he unfolds in his conscious
nature, does he represent different spheres in the Spiritual world. If
in self-lust, he registers his name in that department of the Spiritual
universe called Gehenna, if in charity, he records his name in the
sphere Paradise; and if in divine love—if the divine is so developed in
him that it is a ruling love—he is registered in heaven; and then it
is he perceives God. If he is developed like the Man of Nazareth, so
that his Father’s will is his will, so that he can bow submissively to
it, whether it be to inflict pain and death or life and prosperity, he
is born into the absolute or divine. This, then, is the simple law of
unfolding. Man becomes in the Spirit-world what he is in himself. When
you determine where his ruling love is, you have determined his sphere;
and if he is to manifest to this world, he will manifest according to
the sphere he is in. He advances by the same principle of induction as
is concerned in the development of his personality. It is as the poet
remarks:

“All angels form a chain which in God’s burning throne
begins,
And winds down to the lowest plane of earthly things.”

Understand, then, each individual is a link in that chain, all put
together in the various degrees of unfolding. So that “as each lifts
his lower friends, can each into superior joys ascend.” As you would
raise yourselves, raise the man next below you. As you would labor to
save yourself, labor to save your neighbor. Your salvation consists in
saving others. There is no way in which a man so entirely defeats his
own happiness as when he attempts to make that happiness his highest
end. The pleasure-seekers will bear me witness that the real happiness
is in performing some duty or fulfilling some end, not with a view
to getting happiness. If a man seeks after right, he can not avoid
happiness.

Now you can understand that it depends upon you and me to determine our
plane—to determine our condition in the Spirit-world.

Jesus said to his disciples that when he should go to his Father, they
would see him no more, meaning that he should no longer appear in his
form—no longer appear in the spheres of manifestation—Gehenna and
Paradise. He can only be communed with by those in the same condition.
But previous to going to his Father he told them, “A little while and
ye shall see me.” He was living then in his physical body, talking with
his disciples through their natural understanding. He told them he
was going to be gone a little while, and would return; but after that
he would go to their Father, and they would see him no more. He first
went to Paradise, from whence he could manifest himself. During forty
days after his crucifixion he remained in Paradise, which joins the
natural sphere, and manifested himself from time to time, endeavoring
to open communication between the Spiritual and natural sphere. Having
spent forty days developing his apostles as mediums, he went to his
Father, into a sphere which is not one of manifestation, and they saw
him no more. I do not mean that he went to a particular place, but that
he went into a more interior condition; that is, he retired from the
external to the absolute and divine, and of course could no longer be
made manifest; and according to the description, he was separated from
his disciples, and a cloud received him out of sight—not a literal
cloud, but that interior condition of divine personality which made
him invisible to them as a spiritual being, where he has continued
from that time to the present. The second sphere, Paradise, is that
in which angels are said to be God’s messengers. God can not directly
communicate his consciousness to us in this sphere. He simply give his
consciousness to his angels, who translate it into the external sphere.

In speaking of the Divine Being as nearly as possible in external
language, I would say that He is a personality, but not an
individuality. Individuality is finite necessarily; therefore all the
ideas originating from such an individuality are finite; hence if you
attempt to portray the Infinite in your imagination, you make him
finite, and just so sure as you attempt to make that finite image
or idea represent the Infinite, that moment you involve yourself in
inextricable confusion. You make an individual of God and make him
finite. By personality, which is quite another thing, I refer to this
principle of consciousness. That being only has attained personality
where the subject arises and the object terminates within himself.
That being is a personality alone who possesses self-existence and
self-sufficiency. Now I standing before you am liable to influences
outside of myself. An act arising from such influences is not strictly
mine, not depending entirely upon me for its existence. If you
influence me, and my act be a good one, you are entitled to part of the
credit; if it be bad, you are chargeable with part of the censure. You
can see that under this law of motive, which belongs to the first and
second spheres of mind, no action depending upon outward condition is
perfect, not being self-sufficient or self-existent. It belongs to the
individuality; but when the act is of such a character that it can not
receive outward influence arising from a sort of divine spontaneity,
it is self-existent and self-sufficient, and the person capable of
such an act may be said to be a personality; that is, he is becoming
independent—attaining to a self-sufficiency and self-existence.
An individual is neither. It is only that which receives. Hence
man, who is said to be begotten the child of God, has another’s
self-sufficiency. All that he has he has received. Said Jesus, speaking
from the natural plane, “I can of my own self do nothing. As I hear I
judge. It is not I that doeth the work, but the Father that dwelleth
in me that doeth the work.” So you will understand what I mean when I
say that man as a separate individual has a finite being, but in his
connection with the Divine Being he becomes a personality, not of his
own, but as a personality in God. The universal and eternal personality
of God is in him. This is the relation we sustain as finite beings to
the Infinite.

I expect not to convey my idea in a very clear manner. I can only
point in the direction, and say investigate in that direction and you
will find the infinite. I can only give a negative description of the
infinite by saying what it is not, and ask you to pursue the positive
in your inmost consciousness; and after a little while you will see
some glimmering of the instinct infinite. Then all your doubts about
the infinite will cease. You will then be able to perceive, although
not able to describe, how it is that there is an infinite Father whose
love and wisdom is over all his works.

CHAPTER VI.

MEDIUMSHIP.

My subject of discourse this evening is that of mediumship. There are
two classes of mediumship, and only two: that which is external, that
which reaches the consciousness through the region of thought; and the
internal, that which reaches it directly in the affections. The most
imperfect as a means of communication is what is known as the external,
its imperfection being due to the fact of its having to employ in its
communication certain signs or symbols, which signs or symbols each
individual must translate by his own standard—by his own understanding.
Its perfection as a means of communication depends, first, upon the
perfection of the communicator; secondly, upon the perfection of the
understanding of the individual to whom the communication is made. If
the communication pertain to those things belonging to the common plane
of the understanding, and the individual communicating and the one
to whom the communication is made understand alike the symbols used,
the method of communication is comparatively perfect. I am obliged to
make use of certain natural words which are signs of ideas. If you
understand these words precisely as I do, I will succeed in conveying
my ideas. But if the slightest difference exist between us in the use
of words, a perfect communication can not take place. You understand
how this is. Nothing is more common in an audience like this than for
different individuals to understand the speaker differently, though
each individual heard the same words. But different conclusions are
attained because each interprets by his own standard.

We can not be perfect in our external methods of communication any
further than we each occupy the same plane in our communication, and
understand alike the symbols used. If I were describing simple natural
things, and describing them by natural qualities, there would be no
difficulty, perhaps, in conveying a definite idea. I may not fail in
describing objects by using such terms as “red, white, round, square,
angular,” because these terms are commonly well understood. So in
regard to all the natural qualities of objects with which we are
familiar. We have the correct elements out of which to construct a
correct idea. Therefore, while I am communicating on the natural plane
where we all possess the same consciousness, external language answers
very well as a means of communication.

But suppose I attempt to go into a more interior truth—that which does
not address each one’s consciousness through the sense. I am obliged,
however, to make use of external language; but as the interior truth
is more interior than the natural plane, I must employ that language
figuratively—must speak by parables, similes, and allegories. But the
moment we begin to use language in that manner we are very liable to
be misunderstood. The individual inclined to understand all things on
the natural plane will very likely fail to get the spiritual idea which
is figuratively conveyed. A truth expressed in figurative language, the
figure being a natural one, will be understood by the one who takes it
literally in one way, while he who takes it in a spiritual sense will
get a different idea. So whenever we attempt to teach by parables,
there is a very great liability of diversity of understandings. I
refer to this to show that in communicating by external language, we
are very liable to be misunderstood, unless we confine our subjects
to the natural plane, and describe natural things by such properties
as are common to all, and are accurate in putting them together, when
we may succeed tolerably well. But if we omit any of these essential
particulars, there will be almost as great a diversity of opinions as
there are diversity of minds to hear the communications.

Many persons have thought that if they become mediums, and could
see disembodied Spirits in the Spiritual world, and see how they
are associated together there, they would become wise. As a mere
observation of the vegetable kingdom serves simply to acquaint one with
its various forms, but not with its uses, so a view of the Spiritual
world might acquaint one with the fact that Spirits existed, of their
employments, etc.; but the real interior truth, which is necessary to
enter into you and make you wise, can not be acquired in this way.

The idea that we can get perfect communication externally, when we
are imperfect ourselves, is altogether a fallacious idea. We depend
upon our understandings for the meanings of communications addressed
to us; and just so far as you are developed to understand perfectly,
you may get a perfect impression. But just so far as it is above
your comprehension, you are liable to misunderstand, and charge the
fault upon your communicator. The proposition is simply this: You
and I can not understand infallibly what is truth, unless we are
infallible ourselves in the determination of truth. That which, of
itself, is fallible and liable to err, can not determine the quality
of infallibility; and whenever an individual affirms, upon some
authority, the truth of any thing which, by his acknowledgment, lies
beyond the plane of his intellectual development, he asserts something
unphilosophical and false. That is only truth which, in our minds,
corresponds to the actuality. It matters not who speaks, even though
it be God; just so long as you must depend upon your understanding
to interpret the meaning of what is said, you are liable to get a
falsehood instead of truth. The question of truth depends as much upon
you as the communicator. There has been a great deal of discussion
about the infallibility of the Koran, of the Shasters, of the Vedas,
of the Bible, and of the Book of Mormon. It has all proceeded upon
an erroneous idea. Although the book may contain infallible truth,
yet since you have to depend upon your understanding to interpret
the language employed, you may fail to get the truth. You need to be
infallible before you can affirm that you have the truth. You hand me
the Bible, perhaps, saying that it is the Word of God, that it was
given by inspiration of God, and that every word it contains is true,
infallibly true. Very well. Do you wish me to receive the entire
book of paper, ink, and calf-skin, to take the book and read it, and
believe what it says? I must receive it as I understand it, and faith,
therefore, corresponds to my understanding of the book. Is my faith
in the book, or my understanding of the book? When a man affirms
the infallibility of the Bible, he affirms the infallibility of his
understanding. It appears that your faith can not be in the Bible,
whatever it may teach. Your faith is only in your understanding of the
Bible; and if your understanding happens to correspond exactly with the
truth, you then have the truth. But if your understanding happens to
be erroneous, your faith is in a falsehood. You affirm, then, that God
teaches that which He does not teach; and you make your falsehood God’s
truth.

I want to make this plain, for here the law of outward communication
is abundantly manifest. Look the world over and see how many
different sects there are in Christendom: Baptists, Universalists,
Presbyterians—I could not begin to name them all over to-night. They
all take the same book and learn from the same source; and yet they
come to very different conclusions. You may take any one doctrine
which you may think the Bible teaches—and I will immediately find you
a denomination who will deny it. One says that it teaches universal
salvation, and another affirms that it teaches almost as universal
damnation. Each man translates it by his own understanding; and each
affirms that he has infallible truth. If they would just take this
simple proposition, that that which is fallible can not determine the
quality of infallibility—that upon these subjects the human mind
is fallible, and therefore can not determine what is the absolute
meaning of the communications—they would learn the source of all their
errors. Men may be ever so honest, they will differ as a consequence of
their constitutional differences. A man whose intellectual faculties
are strongly developed, who will reason and demonstrate every thing
rationally, will be a Presbyterian. Hence the expression “long-faced
Presbyterian.” It is very common for them to be long-faced. They are
very actual, never have much feeling, and sit perfectly quiet. The
minister must do all the talking, and the singers must do all the
singing. The round, full-faced, emotional kind of man will not be a
Presbyterian. You could not force him to be, because he judges by a
different standard. He would be a Methodist. He would judge by the
standard of feeling, and must have a great deal of noise; and a meeting
is not worth a fig to him unless he can have a dozen round him shouting
“Glory!” The Presbyterian, all reason, says God is omnipotent and
omniscient; therefore He foreknew what should come to pass, and that,
therefore, God foreordains whatever comes to pass. This is one of his
cardinal doctrines. The Methodists says: “If that be true, man is not
a free agent; but I feel that he is.” He decides from feeling; the
Presbyterian from thought. They can not read the same book and come
to the same conclusion. There is a constitutional difference between
the two. If they are to determine upon truth by outward communication
they can not arrive at it. The man who feels pretty savage is ready to
accept the doctrine of damnation. He feels that certain persons ought
to be punished, and he thinks God will punish them. Here is another
man who is all sympathy and love. He can not see how one man should,
under any circumstances, want to injure another man, and he comes to
the conclusion that all men are going to be saved. He thinks that
if God is as good as he is, and he is sure He is, He will contrive
some way to save all. That man will preach the doctrine of universal
salvation.

So true is it, that phrenological differences point out different
religious beliefs, that in almost any congregation you can sort out
the Presbyterians from the Methodists, etc. This is a truth that God,
nature, experience—every thing teaches. What is the use of quarreling
about it, as long as we know that individuals hearing a discourse come
to different conclusions. They do, they must, they will, and they can
not help it. Until they come to a more interior plane they can never
have one faith, one Lord, one baptism.

Now you understand what I mean by what is called the external
communication. Suppose the Spirits make a communication, they make it
in words. These words only address your consciousness through your
understanding, and you make them mean according to your understanding
of them. If the Spirit makes a communication by pantomime, it still
appeals to your understanding, and depends upon your translation to
give it significance. There may be error in the communication and in
yourself, so that the error will be double. It is in this way that very
many errors which have been charged upon the Spiritual world, after
all, have their origin in the mistranslation and the misunderstanding
of those who hear the communication. The teachings of Jesus, I
think, are straightforward enough, if you will come to the plane of
understanding to which they were addressed. Being spiritual, they
can not be truly represented by natural ideas and language. For that
reason he was obliged to teach by the use of parables, figures, and
similes; and when he had done the best he could, the disciples, being
educated in the natural plane, interpreted his language naturally, and,
consequently, misapplied what he said. This is the fault to the present
day. The truths he sought to communicate were peculiarly spiritual,
and natural language could only represent them when used figuratively;
hence he made choice of such similes or parables as would convey his
meaning approximately, yet not without liability of material error.
Hence he declared to his disciples, with whom he had been so long
familiar, that they did not understand him, and could not, until the
Spirit of truth should come to lead them into the truth of what he had
taught. Language could not convey the truth, else it would undoubtedly
have been so given. He knew how to describe the things of the Spiritual
world so far as they could be described, for the Spirit had been poured
out upon him without measure; but natural language could not portray
the truths, scenery, and events of the Spirit-world.

The only perfect mode of communication is the interior method, or
communication by inspiration. As a means of becoming wise, it becomes
necessary for us to seek by some means to come into interior communion
with the Spirit-world and Divine Being, since we can not by outward
means arrive absolutely at the truth. If we will know that truth which
is required to build us up into eternal life, we must ascertain what
conditions are necessary to be observed to bring us into interior
communion with the Spirit, so that without outward sign they can flow
directly into our consciousness, and be written upon the thought or
heart, as was said, “I will put my law into their understandings, and
I will write it upon their affections.” Thus truth must come to us
without any recourse to Bibles or any other standard whatever. It so
happens that the means by which we are to attain to interior communion
are open to all. It is possible for every person to come into _rapport_
with the interior spheres. According to one’s ruling love or desire
will be his affinity or communion with the spheres of the Spirit-world.
If that be high, his communion will be high. If low, his communion will
be low.

I will illustrate what I mean by interior communication. Suppose
that some of you have a pain in the head. After your best attempts
to describe it to me by natural language, I might not get of it a
correct idea. But by putting myself in a negative condition to you, I
could receive the pain myself, and be able to understand its character
precisely. You thus communicate through the nervous medium interiorly.
Many persons in public assemblies are liable to receive headaches of
others by coming into _rapport_ with them.

In each there is that which corresponds to all the media in the outward
universe. There is a material earth, and I possess a material body.
There is electricity, and I have electricity in my system. There is
magnetism, and I have magnetism. There is a life-principle expanding
all over the world, and I am in communication with that vital medium,
and through it exert a vital influence upon others, and they upon me.
This process of healing by mesmerizing is only coming into _rapport_,
so that the vital forces of the healthy person enter in and strengthen
the vital forces of the weak. Then there is a nerve-media existing
around and in the individual, through which the pains of others
are communicated to him. Pain in another causes an action in this
nerve-medium which communicates the pain to me; just as my voice causes
a vibration of the physical atmosphere, which action is communicated
to your organs of hearing. The sounds I produce have certain meanings
attached to them. If you understand them precisely as I do, you get a
perfect communication. But any description in natural language of a
pain would be inadequate. But when I receive it myself, I have in every
respect an adequate idea of it. Very often, standing near individuals,
I have told them what difficulties they were laboring under by
experiencing them in myself. It is in this manner that clairvoyants
frequently tell what ails their patient.

If I go on and describe your pains, there is nothing astonishing in
it. I am simply in _rapport_ with your nerve-medium. I am sometimes
wondered at for this, but I might be a fool and yet do it. There is no
wisdom involved in such a power; and it is erroneous to suppose, as
some do, that because clairvoyants can tell them what ails them, they
can tell them how to cure it. These powers belong to very different
classes, but they may be united in the same individual, and he may
be competent to discover disease and to prescribe its remedy. I refer
to this simply to correct the false impression that clairvoyance is a
wondrous power. It is one of the simplest powers in nature. It is one
of the powers that may be made use of to bless; but if not properly
understood, it may be made use of to curse. What is true in regard to
this nervous medium is true also of thought. You often witness cases
of this kind in mesmeric and magnetic experiments, when the subject
and operator being brought into _rapport_, whatever one thinks the
other thinks—what one wills the other wills. The idea is transmitted
perfectly.

There is what is called thought-reading. This is governed by the
same law precisely as that of which I have been speaking. One mind
communicates its motion to the other by means of a medium, just as I
communicate to your organs of hearing the vibrations of my organs of
speech, through the medium of the atmosphere. When I have a thought
which is an active condition of the mind, which may be denominated
mental action, it is transmitted to the Spirit-medium or Spiritual
atmosphere, and undulates through that until it strikes upon that
receptive mind where the same motion is communicated, and the same
thought produced, and the thought is impressed upon the consciousness.
The one receiving it perceives it precisely as its communicator. Such
a communication does not depend upon the Understanding simply for its
perfection. This is what we call interior communication. According to
the elevation of our Spiritual sphere in the sphere of truth or love,
as we approach the infinite and absolute, will be the perfection of
this method of communication. If we are very low, it corresponds very
much to the external mode. But as we raise, it becomes more interior
and refined, until finally, being unfolded to the plane of the absolute
in our consciousness, perceptions, and affections, we shall come into
direct _rapport_ with the infinite, and receive communications directly
from the Divine—not by any outward sign or symbol, but by the inflowing
of the Divine thought and affection. This is the way and the only way
that Spiritual truths can be communicated. The reason that Jesus of
Nazareth did not communicate sufficient truth to the world to enlighten
it, was simply because the world was not prepared to receive it. He
said that he had many things to communicate, but they could not bear
them. He also said that the man coming after him, living the life he
had lived, should do greater things, because there would be a higher
and wider plane. The world was too low, too animal, to receive his
doctrine. For that reason he was obliged to go away, saying to his
disciples that they did not understand him, and it was necessary that
the Spirit of truth should come and illumine their understandings
before they could understand him.

If I wish to understand Spiritual truth, no man or medium can be a
medium for me, and I can not be a medium for you. Jesus of Nazareth can
not be a medium for one of you, nor can God himself. Every individual
who would understand the truths of the Spiritual world must be his or
her own medium. God must write his law upon your understanding, and
put it in your affections. If you want to become mediums for interior
communications, you must become absolutely true in every thought,
feeling, and affection—become absolutely pure in every desire and
aspiration of your souls—become absolutely just in all your relations
of life, so that morning, noon, and night you shall be inquiring and
thirsting after righteousness. Such an individual will not need any
outward signs to convey truth to him. But the person disposed to live
in the outward world, to live in the enjoyment of his appetites and
lustful affections, will require representations, if he ever believes
in Spirits. He has to be addressed as a physical or sensuous being. If
he ever believes in a future life, the Spirits have got to come and rap
him over his head. These outward manifestations are designed to say to
the sordid atheist, to the materialist, to the religious worldling,
“You have a soul.” It is for this reason that there is speaking
with tongues, and that all the wonderful works are wrought in your
midst. That is what makes Mr. Davenport’s circles necessary for the
vast majority of the citizens of New York. They are not sufficiently
developed to understand Spiritual truth. These manifestations are
necessary. They are not calculated to make you wise, but they can
startle you, and prompt you to investigate; and they can give you
such direction as will prepare you to enter into a higher and holier
investigation of your relation to the world and to the Divine Father.
It makes little difference whether they lie or tell the truth, provided
they satisfy you that you have souls. If they were always to tell you
the truth, you would be too dependent upon them. You have intellectual
faculties—exercise them, and you will never find yourself in a
position where you can not find all the light you need. A great many
people who believe that Spirits do communicate, can hardly go to dinner
without the consent of the Spirits. They make babes of themselves, and
afterward become fools. If the Spirits tell me to do a thing which my
judgment says I should not do, I tell them, “I won’t. I will do the
best I know how; and I would rather trust myself than you.” I always
get along a great deal better in this way than I would by getting
Spirits to rap according to my expectations. They are not designed
to become our governors. Sensible Spirits do not ask any such thing.
There are ninnies in the Spiritual world as in this, who will be glad
to become governors, if they can get dupes enough. The object of this
external communication is to give outward evidence. The Corinthians had
terrible times. Some people coming in said they were drunkards. Some
said they were mad. Some spoke in tongues. Paul reproved them for this
kind of talk. He told them that it was well to speak with tongues, but
he would endeavor to make some use of it, and would rather speak five
words with the understanding than ten thousand in tongues. The tongues
are for a sign to those who are not believers. The man or woman that is
not established in the faith that Spirits can communicate, needs these
outward manifestations; but when established, it is all time thrown
away to be chasing after these communications. Persons had better be
in their closets, throwing their aspirations for a higher and holier
life, and pray until, by their earnest aspirations, they call angels
of the brightest spheres to come and be with them. They would find
themselves getting along much better, and would give to Spiritualism
a very different character from what it now bears in the wide world.
I talk plain. I am in earnest. We have had nonsense and folly enough.
It is time we become rational, learn the use of our faculties, and use
them aright.

Everything has its true mission. Let, then, every thing be done
decently and in order. If Spiritualism is that which is to redeem the
world, we shall find it out by finding whether it makes us better; and
if it will not make the world better, we want nothing more of it. We
need no more raps than will save humanity. We need all we can get for
that purpose. If Spiritualism takes that direction, it is a God-send to
the world; and in whatever sphere the Spirit can work, let it work. I
bid it God-speed. But I say to all, that if Spiritualism, in its faith
and effects, does not tend to make you wiser, better, purer, and holier
men and women, it is good for nothing. That Spiritualism which will not
redeem you and me will not be sufficient to redeem the world. Therefore
let our faith be shown by our works—be exhibited by the influence it
shall exert upon our lives and characters in making us purer, better
men and women—just men and women.

CHAPTER VII.

MEDIUMSHIP—SPIRITUAL HEALING.

When we make use of external language as a means of communication,
our reception of truth does not depend so much upon who speaks, as
upon ourselves; for it matters not who uses language, before it
can awaken the idea in our minds, it must first be communicated to
our understanding. Therefore though the communication may convey
established truth, our understanding is quite liable to err as to the
meaning of the communication. Though the communication were made by
God himself, it might not convey the truth, because each man or woman
would understand it according to his or her plane of development. The
character of a communication is determined by the plane from which it
is translated. The caution is, “Take heed how ye hear.”

However credible and truthful an individual may be, he may be mistaken,
and falsify in respect to facts and principles communicated; so that
unless we have an absolute perception of the truth of that which is
communicated, we can not affirm that we have the truth upon the subject
in question. In holding communication with our neighbor, we find that
A or B or C has always told the truth, and therefore when he tells us
a particular event has taken place, we rely upon his word. Yet we know
that he is liable to be mistaken, and to be under influences which
may lead him to falsify, so that after all we can not know, upon the
report of an individual, that a thing is true. It does not address
that department of our being by which we are made as certain of it as
we are that we exist. Hence we always make a difference between what
we know and what we hear—between a report and our consciousness. One
we say we _know_ to be true, and the other we say we _believe_ to be
true. The difference is that between knowledge and belief. So if a
Spirit should communicate to me ten thousand facts concerning my absent
friends, every one of which I should find in every respect true on
investigation; and if, again, that Spirit should come and communicate
still other facts, I can not know that such other facts are true. The
fact that that Spirit has before told the truth is not a positive proof
that it will continue to do so. I can believe the statement to be true,
but, nevertheless, my belief can not amount to positive knowledge. So
that the questions often arise when Spirits communicate with external
language, How are we to know that they tell the truth, How are we to
know that they are the ones they purport to be? When a Spirit raps out
on the table, or speaks or writes through a medium, that he is such a
Spirit, and that such and such things are transpiring at some distant
place, how are we to know that he tells the truth? We are not to know
it, and can not know it. If we are to be accurately informed on that
subject, that which is addressed to our understanding must come more
interiorly into our consciousness than it can come through the ear,
the eye, or the sense of feeling. It may be true; and give me time
enough to investigate, and I can determine whether it be true or not.
But if I am to act upon it without investigation, I can not know. I do
not care if all the Spirits in Christendom testify to it, still I can
not know; for that means of communication can not, in the nature of
things, bring certainty—can not produce interior conviction in the mind.

I may be persuaded that a thing is so, and shape my course as though it
were so; still I am liable to be mistaken. Therefore I affirm again,
that this outward method of communication can not be relied upon for
the communication of absolute or positive truth. You can not make
it the basis of action as you can when you have clear and positive
information; and even if it should become as reliable as the ordinary
communications passing between man and man, still it will not bring
sufficient certainty to make it the basis of action. I might give
many other reasons why this external means of communication can not
be relied upon as sufficient to give us the necessary information
respecting our connection with the Spirit-world. It may give facts or
tests which may prove to be sufficient to satisfy the mind of every
inquirer that Spirits do exist and communicate. This is no unusual
thing; but the point is to make them the instruments of communicating
to us such information as from day to day we need, and upon which we
must rely. Those who do thus rely upon their communications, and yield
implicit confidence to them, nine times in ten show themselves to
be complete dupes, and make themselves the laughing-stock of every
sensible man and woman.

You will find in all parts of the country those who, if they can get
a rap, say “Spirits, is it so?” and act according to the responses
they receive. Nothing can be further from the true use and design of
these manifestations. My position is simply this: so far as these
outward means of communication are concerned, they are designed for
those who can not get a more interior view of their relations with the
Spirit-world. If an individual is living in his exterior or sensuous
nature, so that what comes to his understanding must come through his
senses, then these outward manifestations are useful and necessary to
satisfy him of the fact that Spiritual beings do exist, and have the
means of communicating with us. But when he is fully satisfied on that
point, he has received about all the benefit he can from these exterior
communications.

There is another important point to which I wish to call your
attention, and one which, if properly understood by those who
investigate the Spiritual phenomena, will save them a great deal of
embarrassment. It is this: that that class of Spirits who usually
manifest themselves through public mediums, either by sounds, by moving
physical objects, or by any other means before promiscuous objects,
or by any other means before promiscuous public assemblies, can not
generally be relied upon; and the reason is very obvious. It is well
understood that an individual who is excessively sensitive to all moral
influences—whose sensibilities are such that they can not endure the
presence of that which is vulgar—are repelled by, or driven from,
promiscuous circles or society; and, consequently, those who can
endure the common influences of a public circle can not be of a very
sensitive class. Take a medium who is exceedingly sensitive to external
influences; who must be in just such a condition in order that the
Spirits may communicate, and who requires that every mind in the circle
shall be in a peculiar condition; and place that medium in a public
circle, and you can get no manifestations at all, for the required
conditions are foreclosed at once. This kind of mediums will not answer
for the purposes of public circles; but if you get one that will
answer for such purposes, that medium will be one who is excessively
positive—one who can resist influences of ever so positive a character.
As that medium is required to sit for all classes, as a matter of
course he must be in a condition to respond to the kind of influences
which are brought to bear upon him, or manifestations can not occur
while such influences are present.

When communications are received through public mediums, the
probabilities are that the communicator belongs to a very low plane
of development, and that the communications can not be relied upon,
whatever may be the professions of that communicator.

There is almost always an influence which belongs peculiarly to each
public medium—an influence which seems to be a presiding Spirit, which
that medium will usually recognize, answering to the name of “Jim” or
“John.” It is generally the case that this Spirit will be found on hand
first, and is the one to do whatever is to be done; and he becomes the
father, mother, brother, sister, or friend of everybody. I speak from
experience on this subject. If this Spirit wants to be very accurate
in telling you a name, he gets you to write down a list of names, and
as your finger runs down the list, he raps when you come to the right
one. If he knows the name, why does he not spell it out? This is a
very reasonable question. Permit me to explain how these questions are
often answered. In mesmerism there is at times a certain relation of
the operator to the subject called _rapport_, in which condition the
operator can transmit his mental motions to the subject. In case a
Spirit comes into _rapport_ with yourself, he answers all the questions
you ask, even mental questions, and you come to the conclusion that
you are really conversing with the one who purports to answer. If
you ask whether you have a father, mother, brother, or sister in the
Spirit-land, he will answer according to your perceptions; and the
tests seem to be very good, though the Spirit is constantly answering
directly from your own mind. This often occurs in public circles.
Another individual, sitting next to you, who is very anxious to get
equally good tests from his Spirit-friends, gets no correct answers
unless he hands his written questions to one who has been found to be
in _rapport_ with the Spirit. I once knew an instance of this kind. A
doctor came into a circle with about thirty mental questions, to which
he desired to get responses; but he could get no answers, it seeming
impossible for the Spirits to get the questions from his mind; but
upon his writing them out, and handing them to a lady, who shortly
before had succeeded in getting answers, they were all replied to
without difficulty. The simple explanation of this fact is, that the
lady was in _rapport_ with the Spirit, and consequently her thoughts
could be seen by the Spirit, while he could not perceive the thoughts
of the physician, who was not in _rapport_ with him. If you ask
questions orally, it may be that the Spirit does not hear them, except
through the medium’s ears, so to speak. I might go on thus to great
extent, showing the liability there is to be deceived in these public
communications.

The circumstances of a public circle are exceedingly unfavorable to
getting communications from Spirits of a high degree of refinement.
The most that can be obtained under such conditions is some external
evidence of Spiritual existence. The point to which I wish to call
your attention is the almost universal fact that mediums devoted to
external manifestations, while under the influence of this presiding
Spirit, are under an influences to deceive, to cheat, which is almost
irresistible. It does not matter particularly how good manifestations
they get. I have seen this deceptive disposition manifested in mediums
who could get very remarkable manifestations, such as the movement in
the open light of a table with several men standing upon it. Not that
they themselves wished to deceive, but they were almost irresistibly
controlled by the influence surrounding them, and which must generally
be present in a large circle. I have seen this many times when I knew
the manifestations to be genuine. A skeptic, however, notwithstanding
their genuineness, would, upon detecting the slightest thing like
cheating, pronounce them all a humbug. There are but few mediums who
could resist this influence which comes over them at times, inciting
them to help the manifestations along a little, or to give them a
little start, with the hope that they will thereafter get along without
assistance. I refer to this to call attention to the influence to which
mediums are at times subjected, not to condemn the mediums, nor to
convey the impression that all these public manifestations are cheats.
I have seen many which were not of this character. This cheating
influence is attributable to the incongruous mental condition of a
large circle, where no care is taken to secure harmony.

I offer these remarks as a caution not to get discouraged. You will
meet with these things; and if the enemy can once catch you cheating,
no matter how many good demonstrations you have given for months
before, he has no hesitation in publishing to the world that it is all
a cheat. He requires the medium to be very truthful, but he has no
hesitation in lying himself. Being judged out of his own mouth, the
enemy who takes advantage of the least deception on the part of the
medium is as bad as the medium, and if he gets communications he must
expect them to be marked by his character.

Permit me now to call your attention to the subject of healing
mediumship. Man, as we have seen, possesses within himself the
elements of all prior existence—in fact, of all existence, from
dead matter to the self-living Jehovah. These elements exist in
him in an individualized condition. He has composing his form
individualized matter of various kinds, as electricity, magnetism,
nerve-aura, which are connected with matter of a like character
which is unindividualized. I need but say that all matter this side
the Divine is of itself dead—that all life and consciousness flows
directly and indirectly from the Divine Being, and that there can be
no manifestation except as connected with the Divine Being. The idea
that magnetism, electricity, or nerve-force has power of itself, is
altogether false. They are only connecting parts in the universe,
uniting the Divine on one hand with matter on the other. They are mere
media of communication between the Fountain of all power on the one
hand, and the recipient of power on the other. Let us for illustration
observe a manufacturing establishment. One part of the machinery is
perhaps concerned in scouring and cleansing wool; another part cards
it into rolls; another part spins them into yarn; another part weaves
the yarn into cloth; and another part dresses the cloth. Each of these
parts seems to be disconnected from the other parts, and each seems to
be accomplishing a specific end; but you will find that all parts are
connected one with the other, and all connected with the primary power
in the basement. In the water-wheel or steam-engine there is a power
which puts them all in motion. The parts next to it are negative to it,
and receptive of its power; and these parts, though negative to the
principal power, are positive to those parts more remote. All parts are
in motion, all moving as the primary wheel moves. Break the connection
anywhere between the parts, and those parts beyond the connection cease
to move. But establish the connection, and they will again commence
their motion. Every part is negative to the primary power, but positive
to all more remote from it than itself. No one of the parts has a
power to move itself, and unless there is a connection maintained
between the primary power and the several parts, they will cease to
move. So with all media through which potential manifestations are
made. Electricity has no power of itself. It is only by its connection
with that which is nearer to the great self-existent Being that it
derives all its power to act. Next comes magnetism, which derives all
the power it possesses from the power which precedes it. Next is the
life-force, which is negative to all nearer to God than itself, and
receives its power from them, but is positive to all others. Next comes
the nerve-force; and next the spirit, which derives all its power
from the Divine Fountain. It is the medium through which all power is
imparted to all that is more exterior than itself. I have the power to
move my arm—by my will to make potential manifestations through this
arm. If, however, by any means, you break any of the links out of the
chain which unites the divine in me, through my spirit, with the matter
of my arm—abstract the electricity, the magnetism, or nerve-force—I
lose all power over my arm. Bisect the motor-nerve, which connects my
arm with my brain, and my arm will hang lifeless by my side. There are
all of the media there, but they are not continuously connected with
my brain, and through that with the Divine Fountain. But if you will
throw a current of electricity down the nerves of my arm, you will
produce an extension of it. So you may withdraw the nerve-force, or the
vital force from my arm, and it will cease to exist. My arm will be no
longer subject to sensation, because you have broken the link between
sensation and matter.

We then, as individuals, possessing in ourselves all these different
media, which become receptive of influences, must come into connection
with the Divine Fountain itself, if we would receive power from it; for
we can impart nothing which we do not receive.

As spiritual beings we become receptive of this influence through our
spiritual nature, but impart it through our lower nature. To become
a medium of potential action or manifestation, I must have the power
to impart to that medium through which the power is to be manifested.
To affect you nervously to relieve you from pain, I must be able to
impart through my nervous system that power which I received through my
spiritual nature. To be able to operate psychologically, I must receive
through my interior being and impart through my outward being—must
first have the powers of receptivity, and, secondly, must possess the
powers of impartability. It becomes just as necessary to have a good,
healthful physical development to be able to impart, as to have a good
spiritual development to receive the power. The individual becomes
stronger as a medium in proportion to his development in receptivity
and impartability.

That Jesus was so much more powerful than others was owing to the
perfectly harmonic development of his different natures. Our power to
exert healing influences depends upon our development. The higher we
are developed—the nearer we come to the great absolute Fountain of all
power—the more largely will we be receptive of that power.

Jesus being fully developed in his religious and spiritual being, was
in conscious communion with the Father and with Spirits of the most
exalted character, and received largely of the Divine power. He was
always aware whether he had the necessary power to perform any work.
Being so fully unfolded as to perceive the causes of the disease to
be cured, he knew beforehand whether it was worth while to make the
experiment. He knew what was to be done to bring the individual into a
condition to receive that which he needed to restore him. Therefore,
when called upon to perform a cure, if the individual was not in the
right condition, he commenced to bring him into it, requiring them to
come into a certain condition called faith or belief. That he might
perform the desired work, he required the assistance of those around
him. When he went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and where
he was looked upon as an ordinary man, his right to teach was called
in question, and his learning doubted. What was his success there?
Mark says he did not succeed, because of their unbelief. He could not
command the conditions which were necessary to impart his power, and he
could do no mighty work there, except to lay his hands on a few sick
folks. Another writer referring to it, says, “He did not many mighty
works there, because of unbelief.” We all know that Jesus said, “A
prophet is not without honor save in his own country.” He had to keep
away from Nazareth simply because the state of mind was such that he
could not control the conditions necessary to produce his mighty works.

Within three weeks before his crucifixion, when going to Jerusalem to
attend one of the feasts, his brethren called upon him and said, “If
you do these things, show yourself openly, for no man doeth these
things in secret, and yet seeketh to be known openly; for,” says John,
“his brethren did not believe on him.” Christ, even with his high
degree of receptivity, found it necessary at times to call to his aid
surrounding minds; and he could not always perform his work without
faith being reposed in him. The question was very often asked by him,
“Believe ye that I am able to do this?” When he had performed the cure,
he immediately said “It is faith that did it.” They had no faith in him
as the Son of God, as supposed by some, but simply in his power to work
a cure.

I desire to enforce the idea, that if we wish to be mediums of high and
exalted powers for the removal of diseases, it becomes necessary that
we should be highly developed, not only physically, but spiritually
and religiously. A high order of the absolute religious development is
very essential to great power as a healing medium, because this highest
nature, this absolute nature, in man, much more than any other, serves
to unite him with the absolute Fountain of all power. The highest
development of this religious nature in man is necessary to give him
a clear perception of the nature of disease and the means for its
removal. The man who has this religious faculty highly developed, needs
not that any man should say anything to him of man, for he knows what
is within him. Clairvoyant mediums know very well that that condition
which enables them to see most clearly the state of the individual is
that which is high and exalted; for when their thoughts and aspirations
seem to be ascending—like the odor from the flower—there is a sort of
conscious exhalation going forth permeating every thing around the
individual, and he sees and feels clearly the condition of everything
by which he is surrounded.

There is nothing in the world which summons the human being to such a
degree of activity as that which we call the religious nature—there is
nothing which takes hold of him so deeply. What other influence in the
world could cause a mother to destroy her babe, but the stimulating
influence of this religious nature, coming up as it does from the
deepest fountain of the soul? Make a man believe that his religious
nature requires sacrifice, and he will make that sacrifice, cost what
it may, simply because his religious nature wells up so strong when it
is moved, that there is nothing outward which can resist it. When the
individual’s religious nature is highly developed, it is more powerful
than all his other natures.

We will become healing mediums just in proportion as we are developed
in this religious nature, so that we shall become more receptive
and perceptive, and be enabled to exercise stronger mental power to
accomplish our results. But a healthy physical development is quite
as essential to good mediumship as is a high and healthy spiritual
development. Good organs of impartability are required. Secure a good
harmonic physical with a good harmonic spiritual development, knowing
that you are receptive on the Spiritual side, and impartive on the
physical side.

There is much folly connected with mediumship. That such should be the
case with people so profoundly ignorant as the majority of mankind are
with reference even to their having souls, is by no means surprising.
Many people suppose that if their hands are touched, a Spirit has got
hold of them, and is about to make something great of them, and they
set themselves up as something wonderful. If they can perceive any
influence coming upon them, it is attributed to a Spiritual agency.
It may be so and it may not, because there are other than Spiritual
agencies. I once witnessed the curing in five minutes of an individual
who had been blind for three years. This, told to the world as an
instance of Spiritual healing, would appear marvelous; and if I had
happened to do it on the platform, before the people of New York, they
would have thought I had almost performed a miracle. It is probable
that not a particle of Spiritual influence was exerted in the case.
The individual performing the cure did not suppose that he was a
medium, though some would not hesitate to publish it to the world as
a remarkable instance of healing by Spiritual aid. The blindness was
doubtless caused by a paralysis of the optic nerve, and required only a
little action to restore the sight. The individual proceeded according
to the usual modes of mesmerism. The cure was not half as difficult as
it would be to get a sliver from under the nail, nor was it half as
mysterious.

A case of the restoration of hearing, by placing the fingers in the
ears and taking them out suddenly, is also within my knowledge. Such
cases are frequently circulated as evidence that Spirits do cure. The
cure in this case was doubtless effected by a strong mesmeric current
passing from the fingers of the operator over the nerve of the ear.
As honest men and women, we should be careful about publishing these
things as instances of Spirit-healing. We have abundant _genuine_
evidence of what Spirits do. Attributing to Spirits that which is
not produced by them, tends to make us dishonest with ourselves and
our neighbors. Were due caution exercised in this matter, we should
not need _half_ the evidence which is now required to convince the
world that Spirits do exist and communicate. When it is observed that
everything is attributed to Spirits, the world will not believe us even
when we tell them facts.

I know that Spirits _do_ communicate—_do exist_. It is not with me
a matter of conjecture at all—I KNOW it; but there is no occasion
to make persons believe that every thing comes from Spirits. I
ask Spiritualists to be more careful, more dignified in their
investigations in these matters, and they will find that there
are facts enough before the world to convince it of the truths of
Spiritualism, when you can convince the world that you are duly
cautious and not easily misled. I do not wish to lie for Spirits, nor
do I wish them to lie for me.

CHAPTER VIII.

CONDITION OF THE SPIRIT IN THE SPIRIT-WORLD.

In order that I may present the general condition of the Spirit in the
Spirit-world in the most intelligible form, it will be necessary for us
to enter into a very close and accurate analysis of what constitutes
the Spirit, because if we do not well understand what constitutes
the Spirit, we shall only be able to conjecture of its condition of
happiness in the Spirit-world; and if we are to have a close and rigid
analysis of the Spirit, we, can only have it by having a close and
rigid analysis of our own conscious being, because we can know nothing
but our own consciousness; and if we are to learn of the condition of
Spirits in the other world, that condition must be translated into our
consciousness, and we must find it therein recorded, or we can only
conjecture of their condition.

Then the first point to which I wish to call your attention, is that
which distinguishes the condition of absolute consciousness from
that condition which goes to make up individuality—that which is
universal and applicable to all, and that which is only individual
and applicable to each and every individual. Every individual has the
means of determining how much of this being—“I, myself”—belongs to
the external and finite, and how much to the internal and infinite;
because that which makes me to differ from you is finite; but that
which makes myself or yourself one and the same with every other
individual being in the universe, is infinite. Therefore the first
point of investigation is to ascertain what it is that makes you and me
differ from every other individual being in the universe—in what that
difference consists—because when I speak of you as a Spiritual being,
I speak of you in view of that difference, and not in view of that
sameness.

You understand that individuality makes the difference between us.
My individuality makes me to differ as an individual being from you.
The question now arises, what constitutes my individuality, this “I,
myself”—what enables me, when speaking of the events Of childhood,
to say, “When I was a child,” though every thing has changed that
pertained to my individuality as a child—thoughts, feelings, tastes,
pleasures, form? What is it that connects the events of twenty or
thirty years ago with my present being?

I wish each one to go down into his own mind and solve that problem,
because if we are to talk about Spirits we must learn about ourselves.
When each man understands thoroughly the Spirit that is at present
speaking to him, he will be able to form some correct ideas respecting
its condition in the Spiritual world.

Upon examination, each will find that there is within himself
a principle of absolute consciousness—a principle which is
self-conscious, which represents itself to itself, and is not
represented by any thing but itself. It can not be analyzed. It is
absolute in itself. To prove to you that your consciousness of
identity has undergone no change, I need but attempt to prove to
you that you are the same individual that you were when a child, by
referring to scars made upon your fingers in childhood, which still
remain, by calling to mind traits of your childish character. All
these proofs you would consider very much inferior to that proof
afforded by an affirmation within you, which rises above all outward
evidence. It is that to which the Book alludes when it says, “As he
could swear by no greater, therefore he swore by himself.” Although in
your physical, intellectual, and moral being you have changed in every
thing pertaining to your finite consciousness, yet there is that within
you which tells you you are the same. Let one change follow another to
eternity, you will not lose your consciousness of identity.

That which makes you differ from others does not enter into this
absolute consciousness of identity. In other words, the thought,
feeling, and affection which characterized you at any particular time
of life has nothing to do with this absolute identification of self.
Nothing by which the world knows me, or by which it knows you, enters
in to form our inmost identity. We have an identity which lies deeper
than everything external; and it is this identity, which admits of
no change, which says that we are the same, and will forever remain
the same identical beings to all eternity. No change of position, no
change of character, no destruction of reputation, no conversion of
happiness into suffering, presents the least difficulty in the way of
identification. The man who has fallen, been ruined in reputation,
and is steeped in suffering, finds no difficulty in identifying
himself as the same being who was once good, respected, and happy.
He does not say that there was once a being who was happy and good,
but who has changed and become another being, but he says that the
character and position of this individual identity has changed, while
his identity has undergone no change. I wish to call your attention to
that principle of absolute consciousness in you, by means of which you
know yourself, but by which nobody else knows you. You know that that
principle in you does not constitute your individuality. It constitutes
your personality; but that in you which is undergoing change, and
develops from a lower to a higher degree of knowledge, constitutes your
individuality. This unchanging, ever-present, conscious identity is
the very divine life within you, from which you derive all life. This
outside identity, which thinks and wills, is no part of my immortal
nature, separate from this divine principle within me. This outside
consciousness can never be in any other state than the finite. For
wherever you have succession and duration, you have time. Where you
have succession in extent, you have space. In regard to this outward
finite nature, one change follows another; and if change follows
change, there must, in respect to such change, always be succession;
and where you get succession, you must necessarily have time. Hence
the spirit, in its finite nature, must always be in time till it shall
cease to change; when progress ends, time will cease with the finite.
This is a proposition so plain that no mind can for a moment be lost in
considering it.

We can form some definite idea of the Spirit-world by first learning
something of ourselves. You know that this conscious principle within
me and you knows nothing about time or space. Suppose I instantly
become unconscious, and remain so twenty-four hours, and am then
suddenly restored to my consciousness. During this twenty-four hours
there has been no additional record of events made within me; therefore
that twenty-four hours is obliterated so far as my consciousness is
concerned. I take up the time where I left it. To the unconscious there
is no time. To the unchangeable there can be no time. Time is but
the marking of succession. The inmost principle by means of which we
become acquainted with ourselves, knows nothing about time. When one
is restored from unconsciousness to consciousness, he knows instantly
who he is, but he can not say how much time elapsed to the outward
world. Clairvoyants who pass into a condition of unconsciousness to all
exterior things, have no recollection of what occurs while they are in
that condition, though they may have been in it for several hours.

I knew an individual once to be put into the mesmeric condition,
who was unconscious in his normal condition of what occurred in the
mesmeric state, though he was in it for five hours, and during that
time performed many interesting experiments. At the time of sitting
down to be mesmerized he was in so great hurry that he thought he could
spend but a very few minutes’ time. On being brought to consciousness,
he started off again in great haste, supposing that he had sufficient
time to attend to his business, showing clearly that he had not been
in a condition to mark succession of events.

The inmost principle of consciousness which identifies me of to-day
with what I was thirty years ago, does not, of itself, notice time,
except as it is connected with this outward part of me. It counts
time by changes; but when you come into itself and separate it from
those changes, it does not know time at all. Between my infancy and
the present time it has been a constant now. It is the presence of the
infinite and eternal in man, and the means by which he is connected
with the infinite and eternal. It is by the presence of this infinite
and eternal consciousness that man knows that he possesses a finite and
changeable nature. It is a lamp within, which shines out and reveals to
him his finite consciousness, and the changes transpiring there. So man
has two selfhoods, an inward, and an outward which is changing from day
to day.

When I speak of you as an individual being who differs from me, I speak
of your outward, changing selfhood. But when I speak of you in your
inmost consciousness, I speak of you in your inmost selfhood, in which
you do not differ from me.

It is by this inmost consciousness that I know that I am. It reveals
myself to myself by just the same law by which you are revealed to
yourself. There are two methods of addressing the outward selfhood—from
without, and from the infinite within. Where the individual
consciousness is addressed from within, the communication is made
to the affections, whence it flows into the understanding. When it
is addressed from without, it is by representations of that which
addresses it. But when I go to the Spiritual world, I go with this
divine consciousness, this constant, unchanging consciousness within,
but not as a principle which belongs to me, which is individualized
within me. It is just as universal as God. It is the divine
consciousness which is unindividualized within me, and wherever that
is, I must be, because of the ubiquity of this divine principle. If
there were any point from which this could be excluded, and into which
the individual could be thrust, he would be annihilated.

What we need is to bring the external consciousness into unceasing
relation with this internal consciousness. That which does not come
into such relation with this absolute consciousness does not become a
part of our finite selfhood—a part of our immortal selfhood. Standing
before you I perceive your countenances, because your images are
brought into a certain relation to this absolute consciousness within
me. Now when they come into unceasing relation to this unchanging
consciousness, they become a part of my external, finite selfhood.
Memory is the result of bringing events into such relation with this
consciousness.

Looking at man, then, as possessing an absolute consciousness which
never changes, and an external consciousness which is constantly
changing, and which alone causes one man to differ from his fellow,
it is apparent that if individuality is preserved upon entering the
Spiritual world, each must take with him so much as causes him to
differ from others. Whenever this external nature would represent
itself to another, not having a consciousness of its own separate
from the divine consciousness, it comes under the law of exterior
communication and representation. Therefore it is never present in
the mind by itself, but by that which represents it there. If we
would learn how it is that a Spirit represents itself in different
places at the same time, we must learn the law of representation. I
see my audience, by which I mean I see that which represents you to
my consciousness. You are presented to my consciousness by means of a
medium which comes between you and me; and according to the accuracy of
my faculties to perceive, and according to the accuracy of this medium
to represent you to my consciousness, will be the accuracy of your
representation in my mind.

I see you now by the medium of light; and you all see me at the same
time. I am here and only here, but you all see me in your various
positions. You see me by means of the light which takes my image into
every part of the room. Though actually present in but one place in
this room, yet by that which represents me I am omnipresent in this
room. The great law of representation is that we perceive a thing, not
by itself, but by that which represents it in our consciousness. Hence
according to the ubiquity of the medium will be the ubiquity of the
representation. In this room the medium light is ubiquitous, and my
image is just as omnipresent as the medium. The same is true of every
other medium by which presence is represented.

I, as a finite spirit, am conscious only by means of the divine
consciousness within me, which imparts and reflects consciousness to
my outward nature. My outward consciousness is like the light of the
moon, which is the reflected light of the sun. The real consciousness
within me is that from which I derive my external consciousness.
Whenever I, as a spirit in my external consciousness, would represent
myself to you, I must come into some medium of representation—some
medium which will be to my spirit what the light is to my body. The
medium of light will not represent me, but there is a medium which
will. This, the Spirit-medium, is vastly more refined and ubiquitous
than light. Standing here as a spiritual form, and giving off spiritual
undulations, just as my body reflects the undulations of light,
wherever the Spirit-medium extends, there my image will extend. And
whenever an individual comes into _rapport_ with this spiritual medium
and sustains a certain relation to me, he will be able to perceive my
presence, because I am brought to his view by that which represents me.

Many suppose that a person whose mind is separated from the sensuous
influences of the body, or brought into the clairvoyant condition,
can go to a distant place, as to London, and see an individual to
whom his attention is directed. He tells me what the individual in
London is thinking and saying, yet hears what is said to him here.
If the individual in London were to be thrown into the clairvoyant
condition, and have his attention directed to the clairvoyant here,
the two could readily converse together. Space is not noticed by them,
though it might be by carefully going over the space and observing a
succession of objects. Being brought into _rapport_ with each other,
each can observe the thoughts and feelings of the other. This is
done by virtue of a simple law; and there is no mystery in it. The
medium which unites my organs of speech with your organs of hearing,
extends through the entire room, and my voice is as ubiquitous as the
medium which communicates it. So in regard to this Spirit-medium,
which is the medium of communication between the clairvoyants. By that
medium, London, Canton, or any other part of the earth, is present
here. Persons who mistakenly suppose that persons in the clairvoyant
condition leave their bodies and make journeys to distant places, get
up many curious theories to account for the body and spirit being held
together. Their error arises from a mistaken conception of the actual
condition of a Spirit. You see readily that a Spirit can be addressed
externally only by that which represents that which addresses it. Apply
to the case in hand the same law by which you see and hear me, and
substitute for the media of light and atmosphere the Spirit-medium, and
you will have no difficulty in understanding how it is that Spirits can
be represented in different places.

Persons sometimes meet with difficulty in explaining the apparent
fact, that person in the form are sometimes seen as though they were
out of it. I recollect several cases where persons were said to have
been seen and conversed with at places very remote from each other;
and it was supposed that the spirits left their bodies and went to
these distant places and represented themselves. It is very easy to
understand how my spirit can appear in real Spirit-form and speak to
one a hundred miles away from here. It is done by what is called
psychologic representation. If I come into _rapport_ with any mind
yet in the body, which mind is in _rapport_ with me, I can create any
spiritual image in your mind that I may see fit to make; that is, I can
cause the image in me to reproduce itself in you—so that that image
in my mind shall be reproduced in your consciousness, as the object
before the camera daguerreotypes its image on the prepared plates.
Now suppose that between us one or more guardian Spirits are passing.
The Spirit coming into _rapport_ with me, and having a full and
perfect perception of you, can, by the intensity of his mental action,
daguerreotype my image upon your consciousness. You then perceive me
by the psychological action which that Spirit exerts upon your mind.
It is in this way that we can apparently meet and see each the other’s
form, just as though it were present. But if we were more susceptible,
there would be no necessity of having the intervention of a guardian
Spirit. If we are both so developed as to clairvoyantly perceive one
another, the conversation can go on, though both are in the body, and
you in London and I in New York. We see each other as though we were
present one with the other. It does not follow, however, that my spirit
is present in two places at the same time; but that which represents
it is universally present. The question may arise, why we can not,
upon passing into the clairvoyant condition, see all the Spirits in
the universe—because they are all in _rapport_ with this spiritual
atmosphere. I will explain. Suppose we have ten thousand strings
strung from the ceiling to the floor, and they are made to give forth
certain sounds. Now all that have the same degree of tension will give
forth the same sound. The vibration of one will cause all the others
to vibrate which have the same degree of tension. Take any stringed
musical instrument, and vibrate one of the strings. If any other of the
strings has the same point of tension, it will vibrate. Now when my
spirit comes in contact with the Spiritual sphere and sustains the same
relation to any Spirit that the strings sustain to each other, I can
see that Spirit. Upon the same principle I may see all who are in the
condition to respond to my spirit. When my consciousness will undulate
to their conscious vibrations, I perceive them, and not till then.

If a Spirit is not present, except by that which represents it, it will
appear useless to open doors to permit Spirits to enter, for a door is
as transparent to the medium by which they are represented, as a pane
of glass is to the medium of light. Jesus appeared in the midst of his
disciples, though they were shut up; and when the time came for his
disappearance, he ceased to be seen, not by going out of the door or
window, but by disturbing the conditions by which he was represented to
their consciousness.

In respect of Spirit-mansions, etc., in the Spiritual world, we are
very liable to mistake representation for actuality. We are very liable
to mistake images of things—creations, so to speak, proceeding from
the minds of the Spirits—for actualities. We are very apt to perceive
animals. Some think that animals have a living form and exist in the
Spiritual world; but I pretend to say that it is not true. I know very
well how they appear there. I know very well how it is that persons
suppose they do exist, and why Spirits in the Spiritual world appear to
have their dogs, cats—their pet animals. To them they are actualities.
Nevertheless, I understand that the idea that a cat or dog has an
immortal soul is not only inconsistent with any principle of philosophy
in the universe, but is contradicted by every principle of philosophy.
To say that a cat or dog is immortal is to affirm that to be immortal
which God himself can not make so. The condition of immortality can
not pertain to the mere animal being. The representations of animals,
forests, fields, and things of this kind, have no basis upon that which
has a material or actual existence in the universe. They are only
developed under the law of representation. Man has a sort of creative
faculty, by which he forms the images which are mistaken in the
Spiritual world for actualities. When Spirits are thinking of animals
they have seen in this world, they throw out their images, and the
individual who chances to be in _rapport_ with these Spirits sees these
images, and thinks they are actualities.

If you will only investigate the law of representation, you will have
no difficulty in accounting for these things in the Spiritual world.
Man makes these—they are not real. God makes all that is real in the
universe. Man works in the sphere of representation, but God works in
the sphere of actuality.

Had I time, to-night, I should be happy to go into a careful
investigation to justify the conclusion that dogs and cats, etc.,
are not immortal. There is no end to be subserved in their being
immortal. If the animal were to go to the Spiritual world, there
being nothing to address his consciousness, he would virtually
have no being. Whenever a mind goes where its consciousness is not
addressed, it ceases to be mind. If there is any place in the universe
where consciousness ceases to be addressed, there consciousness must
cease to be. What would there be in the Spiritual world to address
the consciousness of the animal who has been developed only to the
perception of physical objects?

Again, between the nerve principle (the highest principle developed in
the animal) and the absolute or divine principle, there intervenes the
Spiritual principle, which, being developed in man, makes him receptive
of the highest or divine consciousness, and makes him immortal. The
animal lacking this principle can not be immortal. According to
aspirations the animal puts forth, according to its mental phenomena,
according to every principle, the animal is not immortal. Nevertheless
he has a representation in the Spiritual world, according to the law of
representation.

Every individual who is conscious of an existence as an individual, has
that within him which constitutes him an individual; and as he goes
into the Spiritual world, he takes with him that individuality. This
individuality in its inmost joins upon the absolute, through which it
perceives its own consciousness, and by this connection is unfolded in
the facts, truths, and principles of the universe.

CHAPTER IX.

ORGANIZATION—INDIVIDUALIZATION.

The experience of man has been such, in respect to organization, that
all prudent and careful men and women are beginning to have fears for
the welfare of a cause when it assumes the shape of an organization;
and they have just ground for fear; for the experience of the past
has been such as to justify them in supposing that evils arise out
of organizations. Their tendency usually has been to beget a party
feeling, or that which corresponds in the organization to selfishness
in the individual. It is natural that every individual should love
himself better than others, and when individuals associate together,
they acquire a spirit of individuality—a selfishness which pertains
to their particular society or organization. Individuals who unite in
religious organizations entertain a sort of selfishness in reference to
their particular denomination. The Presbyterian, for instance, likes
Presbyterians a great deal better than Methodists, and the Methodists
likes Methodists a great deal better than Presbyterians, and prefers
to bestow his favors upon Methodists. In fine, the general tendency of
this kind of organization is to lay in men and women the foundation of
a selfishness in addition to their natural or individual selfishness.

There are many reasons for the evil results of organization; and if we
continue to organize upon the principles observed in organizations of
times past, we may expect that the same evils will continue. I propose
to inquire whether there is not a natural basis, and endeavor to
discover the causes of evils for the past, so that we may know how to
rectify them and guard against them in future.

Every operation in nature tends to individualism. From the moment
you begin to watch matter, every process is found tending to
individualization. The elements which now compose our bodies
originally existed in a general unindividualized state or condition.
The material elements of our bodies, and the media through which the
material elements were controlled, in bringing them to their present
position, existed originally in an unindividualized condition; and
when each particle was brought under a certain process that it might
receive vital affinities, it was with reference to the formation of an
individualism. Nature labors constantly to organize and individualize,
and you and I owe our individual existence to this tendency in nature;
and the same law operates in society. The fact that there have been
so many organizations, shows that there is a natural tendency to
organize. The great difficulty attending all organizations has been the
departure from the law of nature—the law of affinity or attraction—for
Nature works by the law of affinity, never by the law of repulsion or
excretion. The law of excretion is only applicable to those elements
which are to be rejected. External force has never been applied by
Nature to aid her. She does not bring external force to hold the
elements of the tree or rock together, nor to hold together the organs
of the animal.

Individualization is the result of an inward power which attracts one
part to cohere with its fellow. Nature is very careful to observe the
law of affinity; and the moment you bring any element which should
not enter an organism, repulsion immediately operates to prevent its
entrance.

Hate is at times defined to be a less degree of love, and love
sometimes is very negative. Repulsion is also defined to be a less
degree of attraction. A stone thrown into the air is drawn to the
earth by the power of gravitation. But the balloon which is subject
to the same law, instead of coming toward the earth’s center, rises.
It does not rise because the earth does not attract it, but because
the atmosphere, for which the earth has a greater affinity than for
the balloon, causes the balloon to recede and make room for it. The
case of the balloon illustrates the law of excretion. The position
which each particle is to assume in the system is determined by the
vital affinities imparted to it in the stomach. If any particle
loses its vital affinities, it occupies the position needed by some
other particle; and the new particle accordingly displaces the old.
But I wish to impress upon the mind the fact, that Nature’s law of
individualizing is that of affinity, and that Nature does not apply
external force to build up her individuals. However, before any
particle can be taken into an organization by the law of affinity, it
must receive a peculiar impress or affinity, and an affinity suited to
the particular organization into which it is to enter. It receives that
affinity by passing through a natural process. If it enter without
a vital affinity, it will enter in as a stranger, as a disturber of
harmony; and the tendency of the organism will be to reject and throw
it off. What we here learn from Nature, we may apply to organizations,
religious or otherwise. Each of us is a particle in society. But before
we can be organized harmoniously, so that each shall be found in his
specific place, each must be prepared for that organism by receiving
the vital or spiritual affinity which is necessary for that organism.
You can not make A, B, and C into a community unless they have the
true impulse, any more than you could go into the field and gather
clay, sand, etc., and mold them together, and make a man or animal
body. You can not hold men together in an organization by outward
restraint, and have them fulfill the office of a genuine organization,
suited to the development of the spirit. The method by which society
seeks to organize itself is like the method by which God created our
first parents. Each individual should be fitted to become a member of
an organization by being placed where he will receive the appropriate
vital affinity, and leave the affection of his nature to point out
his true position, whether that of head, hand, or feet. The great
difficulty in all past organizations is that the natural law has not
been observed. Organizations have usually been formed with reference to
exerting force, either moral or physical. They have organized by that
which is external rather than internal.

The first requisite for an organization is a nucleus of the character
of the organization you wish, which nucleus may consist of one, two,
or half dozen individuals. The individual who is seeking to establish
an organization must look for the nucleus in himself, not in his
neighbor. The idea of looking out of yourself for an organization is
all false. The idea that you must look to a distance for some being
out of yourselves as a representation or reflection of the perfect
attributes of Deity, is erroneous. The individual who feels the need of
an organization must first understand that that organization must be
built up by the law of affinity; and that as each individual becomes
a particle to be incorporated into the organism in his love and
affection, he must grow to retain his position. The vital principle
must be felt by himself. If he wishes to redeem the world, he must
commence by redeeming himself. If he wishes help in redeeming the world
from its various evils, he must first find in himself that spirit which
he wishes infused into the helping association.

If a principle has not succeeded in saving me, I need not hope that
it will save the world. Therefore, when we are about to organize a
society upon any principle, the first thing to be ascertained is
whether this principle has saved us. If not, we may just as well drop
it. If a person wishes to form an organization to make the world
Christian in faith and practice, you should ask him if he has been made
a Christian in faith and practice. If he wants fidelity to truth and
righteousness, ask him if he is faithful to truth and righteousness.
Let the individual be tried by that which he wishes to accomplish. If
he can not stand the test, he is not the proper person for a nucleus
for such an organization. Before one mourns over the lusts of the
world, let him look after his own lusts. So in respect to every thing
necessary to make a truly upright man, a man who shall live in all good
conscience before God and the world, and before the inmost of his own
soul. Let him see to it that after he has made a perfect examination of
his own breast, there is nothing found lacking. Let him be so satisfied
with his examination of his own character, that he will be content to
have mankind redeemed up to the plane he occupies. Then let his life be
the incarnation of the principle. Let the world, when they look upon
him, be constrained to say, “He has been with Jesus,” if Jesus is to be
the model of the church. Let his life correspond exactly to the high
and beautiful ideal of the church he is wishing to have established;
and then an influence will go out from him which will become attractive
to all who, like him, are thirsting for that life. He will find it
unnecessary to throw out catechisms, because there will be the true
affinity which will come forth from the character, and attract all
who, like him, are hungering and thirsting after righteousness. Form a
church by the application of external tests, and there will be conflict
all the time; while concord will characterize one formed in accordance
with the natural principle of organization.

Spiritualists have become very numerous. I doubt whether there is
any other class of believers so numerous as those now known as
Spiritualists. They now number millions, and they are men and women
who have come from under the restraints of authority—of external law—a
“thus saith the Lord”—and have assumed the prerogative of acting for
themselves. One article of their creed has attached to them the name
of “Spiritualists”. They profess to believe that our disembodied
Spirit-friends are near to us, and hold converse with us; and when any
one says that he believes in that, he is called a Spiritualist. That
appears to be the only test. But that external belief or assent is not
better as the basis of an organization than is the creed, “I believe
that God fore-ordained whatever comes to pass.” The idea that such an
assent could be made the basis of an external organization is entirely
unnatural and supremely ridiculous. If you should attempt to organize
upon such a basis, you would be guilty of the error into which all
previous organizations have fallen.

Many entertain the idea, that because we have overcome our
blind deference to authority, refused to be ruled by the
“thus-saith-the-Lord”—because we have come to the conclusion to examine
all questions for ourselves—we have taken all the steps necessary
for our own reformation and that of the world. But what has been the
influence exerted by this new faith—New Philosophy as it is sometimes
called—upon the lives and character of those who have accepted it. You
say, perhaps, that when you drive all the church dogmas out of the
way, there will be nothing in the way of redeeming man. So far as you
are concerned, they are driven out of the way, and what has been done
for you? How much better are you morally, religiously, than the man
you call a bigot? You wish all the world to be converted to a belief
in the possibility and actuality of Spiritual intercourse; but suppose
that all the world are converted to this faith, what are they to gain
if it produces no better fruits in them than in you? While we are
trying to get the motes from our religious brother’s eye, is it not
possible that we have very extensive beams in our own? We are calling
for organization to unite the moral power and energy of the millions
of Spiritualists; but if the influence of Spiritualism has not served
to redeem us, how are we to expect that it is to redeem the world?
If _Spiritualism_ does not save _you_, how are you to reproach the
church for its inconsistency in sending its missionaries to convert the
heathen to what they themselves do not practice—when even slave-holders
are received to the bosom of the church, while the slave toils in the
rice and cotton swamps of the South, while the babe is torn from its
mother’s breast. If the church were to turn round and point out similar
inconsistencies among Spiritualists, what would the Spiritualists of
New York reply?

Spiritualists should see to it that the work which is wrought in
them by Spiritualism testifies what will be its work in others. If
it does not touch their own character; if it does not make the false
man true, the corrupt man better, what reason shall we give in favor
of its being received by the world? We have Spiritualists enough to
convert the world if they were only _spiritualized_. There is the
difficulty. It is one thing to be a _Spiritualist_, and another thing
to be _spiritualized_. What we want is something that shall take our
Spiritualists and spiritualize them. We want to find some key which
shall open up a fountain deeper in any man’s soul than has yet been
opened by these manifestations—which shall call out higher, holier,
and purer aspirations after eternal life than have yet been called
out. We all know this. We find every thing on the right hand and the
left to admonish us that when the whole world shall have been converted
to our faith, it will be a bad world still. What then is needed is,
that you and I set about a work which is peculiarly intrusted to us. We
shall then redeem the world.

I must look for the coming of my Lord in my own affection. He must
come in the clouds of my spiritual heavens, or he can not come for
any benefit to me. I must place myself in that condition that shall
invite him to come and reveal to me the way by which I am to be
redeemed; and then I shall learn the way by which you and all mankind
must be redeemed. When all my falsehood, injustice, selfishness, lust,
appetite, and passion are dead, and when the God of heaven shall live
and work in me, then there will be laid in my soul the foundation of
that true spiritual affinity which shall go forth, not seeking others
to unite with me, but, of its own plentitude, uniting with me those who
have the same affinity—uniting us stronger than any creed. We shall
not then be obliged to ask permission to join or withdraw from such
a church as we should establish, but each man would join or withdraw
according to affinity or repulsion. Each man will stand upon his own
responsibility. I shall not be responsible for you, nor you for me.
I stand not here to give you Christian character, nor you to give me
Christian character. Each man must have a communication for himself
with the Fountain of all love and truth. We must all draw our water
from the same well, and it will become in us a fountain springing up
into eternal life.

Each must prepare himself for the kind of church he needs. Let each
seek to redeem himself. The Spiritualists of New York and throughout
the United States will be ready to form a church just as soon as they
have prepared themselves to give forth the true affinity; and you will
find that it will not be necessary to have any creed or catechism, any
thing external by which to try the faith of this or any other movement.
If you make up your mind to lead a true life, to speak the truth, to be
pure and just—if you make up your mind that whoever comes within your
influence shall breathe in of your truth and righteousness—you will
find none will seek to come unto you unless they desire to breathe that
atmosphere.

The difficulty of the old organizations has been, that no man or woman
supposed it was necessary to make themselves the representatives
of that which they believe to be necessary for the redemption of
the world. Their faith was not in their own righteousness, but in
the righteousness to be wrought in somebody else. They worked to
be righteous by proxy. They hoped to be saved by the righteousness
of another. Consequently they organized upon an external basis, as
their organizations were not based upon a true affinity of character.
They did not understand that they must possess the true character,
consequently they did not labor to attain it. The individual seeking
to form a church only labored to form a creed. He did not suppose it
necessary to form a character which he wished to have infused into the
church. The world, however, can never be saved until the false opinion
that it can be saved by the righteousness of another is done away. The
world would put away its lusts, appetites, and passions, were it not
that it loves them. Although they do not confer the happiness the soul
feels it needs, they confer more happiness than they know how to obtain
from any other source. Therefore the world is not willing to put away
its lusts, appetites, and passions, and to become absolutely pure and
just; and if you will offer them a religion which offers to save them
from the consequences of sin, and yet permits them to continue in their
sins, they will willingly pay for it, especially if its ceremonies
and the decorations of the church gratify the taste. If they can have
nice things in their churches, it is considered nearly as good as
to put them in their parlors. But tell them these things will avail
them nothing, that they must love their neighbors as themselves, that
they must put away lust, appetite, and passion, and you offer them a
salvation they are unwilling to accept.

CHAPTER X.

WHAT CONSTITUTES THE SPIRIT.

The idea which has sometimes prevailed, that when the spirit enters
the Spirit-world it becomes divested of certain states of affection,
certain loves or delights, and that it becomes so changed in its
character or station as to seek its delight in some other direction,
is very general among Spiritualists. They believe that all our evil
passions and affections pertain to this body, and that when the spirit
leaves it, his disposition to do evil or to enjoy the fruits of his
evil desires ceases. Now, I wish to investigate this subject thoroughly
upon principles which commend themselves to every individual’s
consciousness.

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 _re_form 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.

There are certain impulses pertaining to the body _in its relation_
to the body. An instance of such is the sensation of hunger. I do not
mean to say that the body has the sensation of hunger, but that it is
awakened in the spirit by a demand which the body makes upon the spirit
for material to supply its need. There are the sensations of thirst,
heat and cold—diverse sensations of this kind which come to the spirit
through the body. But that impulse which leads the individual to seek
gratification at the horse-race, the brothel, etc., has its spiritual
original, and flows out of the depraved condition of the spirit; and
the body is not responsible for it, though the body may be destroyed by
such impulse.

When we enter the Spiritual world, if we recognize ourselves at all,
we must recognize ourselves by that which the absolute consciousness
reveals to us. I do not recognize myself by the principle of absolute
consciousness within me, but by that which it reveals to me. When I
go to the Spirit-world, I must take that with me of which I must be
conscious, else I shall not take my individuality with me—else I become
annihilated. Just to the extent I leave my affections behind me, shall
I be annihilated as a spiritual being. When I go to the Spiritual
world, I must take my character with me—that which is made an integral
part of my spiritual character by its development in me. Of course,
then, wherever I go that must go. The love which rules within me must
go with me until that ruling love is changed, or until some holier love
shall call me to a higher plane of action. I am prepared to maintain
that when we go to the Spiritual world, we shall take with us all the
love, affections, thoughts, feelings, and sentiments which characterize
us as individual beings. Every thing which causes me to differ from
you here will cause me to differ from you when we enter the Spiritual
world. I will retain my spiritual selfhood by the same laws by which
we maintain our selfhood here. I believe the testimony of all Spirits
who have spoken to us concerning it, is that the difference between
the sensations here and there is so slight that it is difficult to
tell when one has entered the Spiritual world. Many times have Spirits
testified that they had to make many examinations after entering the
Spiritual world, to satisfy themselves that they had left the body.
That is, their sensations, thoughts, feelings, loves, and affections
underwent so slight a change, they did not recognize any change in
passing to the Spiritual sphere.

If that individual Spirit changes his character there, it must
evidently be by some law operating upon character. We know perfectly
well that if you were to bring an individual into New York who has
been given to a certain kind of pleasure, unless he can find the same
channel of pleasure here, he would feel miserable. Let any one of you
get in the habit of going night after night to the theater, and you
will by-and-by acquire such a habit that you will be perfectly wretched
unless you can go there. You make resolutions to break up the habit;
but often break your resolutions, and will feel miserable until some
other love takes the place of your love for theatrical amusements. The
poor drunkard often, in the midst of his dissipation, resolves to put
away his cup; but when again he comes in the presence of the bottles
and decanters, his mouth begins to feel thus and so, and he can not
help drinking. The habit is so fixed upon him that he can not break it
up, unless something can implant a stronger love within him.

As is our condition in this world, so is our state in the Spiritual
world. How often does an individual feel that there would be no source
of enjoyment for him in the Spiritual world if he could not find
certain pleasures there. The beef-eater will continue to have a desire
for beef, unless some other gratification can come in to supply its
place. So it is in reference to every means of gratification. Upon the
same law that the good desire the good and true, would the individual
who has been a pleasure-seeker in this life seek in the Spiritual world
for his accustomed gratification.

In the Spiritual world the Spirits have the means of gratifying their
desires. Beef-eaters have the means of gratifying their desires. Not
that they have any Spiritual beef. They have a mode of getting beef
there different from ours—namely, by representing it and growing it on
their own plantations. Spirits also enter into their former pleasures
by coming into _rapport_ with those here who have tastes like their
own. If all their passions and lusts are to be dropped, how are those
to know themselves in the Spiritual world who, during a whole life
here, have been dead to every feeling and sentiment? Will they know
themselves by their truth and justice? They never had any. How are they
to know themselves, except by that for which they were known here?
It is evident that they must carry their animal impulses with them.
Gratification for these impulses are procured by the law of mental
sympathy—the Spirits getting into _rapport_ with those on the earth who
have desires similar to their own, and taking thus the gratifications
in which they delighted while in the body. It is for this reason that
so many dark, benighted Spirits are found revealing themselves to
the world. I am aware that, in these latter days, the idea has been
advanced that Spirits, when they leave this body, get rid of all this
filth. The truth is, the body was the cleanest part of them here.
The idea that when a Spirit leaves the body he gets rid of all his
impurity, has caused many to greatly venerate Spiritual communications,
and attach to them much authority. I remember that it was with much
deference that I listened to the first communications which came
from the Spirit-world; but I very soon learned that a Spirit was not
necessarily wiser because of his separation from the body, and that
he required quite as much watching as one in the body. Not that they
are below the world; for when you have taken an average of the justice
and wisdom of the world, you will find that the standard it could set
up would not be very high. When you look over the earth and witness
the very low state of character of the human race here, why should you
wonder that Spirits of a very low character should hover around us and
manifest themselves to the world.

There was some philosophy in Dr. Beecher’s conclusion, that the
manifestations were Spiritual, but devilish; for the majority of these
manifestations come from the very lowest Spirits. There is no use in
denying it. But the fault is all our own if a Spirit of an undeveloped
character comes in communication with us and controls us; for I have
power, which is superior to all their finite power, to prevent their
controlling me. If I will live the life I should, I can be protected
from all such influences. If a Spirit of a low character comes into
_rapport_ with you to control you, it is your fault. It is because
you are not in that true condition of soul by which you come into
_rapport_ with Spirits of a pure and wise character. It is nevertheless
unphilosophical for any individual to say that, because there are low
Spirits, he will have nothing to do with Spiritual communications.
It would be equally unphilosophical to say, because there are good
Spirits, that all Spiritual communications should be received.

In respect of developing mediums, I wish to say, that if they are to
be developed for curiosity’s sake, they had better remain undeveloped.
But if it is desired to bring them into conditions to redeem them, it
is all very well. But no person should permit himself to become passive
in his feelings and affections while waiting for Spirits to come and
develop him as a medium; for in that condition he will be liable to be
influenced by bad Spirits. He may become the instrument of one of the
lowest and most debasing influences, and may be influenced to commit
the most filthy and disgusting deeds. While the body should be passive,
the affections should be ardent, the soul must send forth its most
earnest aspirations.

You need not read from the Bible or the Koran. What is needed is to
keep your hearts right. Let the aid for which you seek have strict
reference to keeping the affections right. We need to guard against
being influenced by those low Spirits who are waiting round us to seek
self-gratification. If you wish to commune with Spirits, you yourself
must determine what shall be the class of Spirits with whom you will
commune. If you would commune with Jesus, you must come upon his plane.
If you would commune with the Divine Father, you must become like him.
You must assume the character of the class of Spirits with which you
wish to commune. By observing this law we need not have so much of
this low manifestation. We need a higher class of communications to
convince the world. The objections to Spiritualism is not that there
are not enough facts, but that their character is such that the world
is not willing to accept them.

CHAPTER XI.

LUST.

“Every man is tempted when he is drawn away of his own lusts.”—James
_Letter_, chap. i. 14.

Lust may be defined to be the desire for self-gratification. The
forbidden fruit is that which seems to be desired to make one happy,
and is sought after, not for the purpose of supplying a need, but to
gratify a desire.

Man’s constitution is such that there are needs pertaining to every
part thereof; and those needs are indicated by awakening desires; and
when the need is supplied, a pleasure or gratification is experienced,
which is a sort of plaudit of “Well done;” and all legitimate pleasure
or happiness which man is constitutionally fitted to enjoy arises from
complying with the proper demands of his being. All constitutional
demands of the being man have strict reference to constitutional needs;
and the life and energy making that demand will not be disregarded. It
will not suffer the being to find rest until the demand is complied
with. It will create restlessness and disquiet; and the individual will
give expression to that life and energy in some direction, if he does
not in the true one.

Man possesses within him immortal energies, or he could not be
immortal. He has that which is essentially being and life, and
which can not be destroyed. Hence his divine energies will act with
omnipotent power to him, and he will be constrained to submit.

Here, then, is to be found the fundamental distinction between true
and false impulse—true and false action. That impulse which arises
within, indicating a need of some department of our being, is true and
legitimate; and all proper action which tends to supply that demand,
without conflicting with any other need, is true action. All other
action and impulse are illegitimate. The distinction between the two
classes of impulse and action is easily made, by an appeal to our own
consciousness. By a careful examination, we can tell at once whether
the impulse to perform any act for ourselves arises from a sense of
need or from a desire of self-gratification; and whether the impulse
to perform any act for others arises from a near or remote prospect of
self-gain, or from a sense of fitness, justice, or goodness of the act,
in forgetfulness of separate self.

In the very outset I postulate the following as undeniable truth: All
_true_ desire in man has respect to a need of some department of his
being, which, when truly supplied, will harmoniously develop him in
respect to every other department of _his_ being, and also in respect
to all other beings necessarily connected with him. That all _true_
happiness or enjoyment which he is capable of possessing must flow as a
consequence of truly supplying these needs; and that while every need
of his being is fully supplied, he will be in the enjoyment of all the
happiness he is capable of desiring, and consequently will not desire
happiness on its own account.

I postulate further; that until every need is supplied, man will feel
a sense of lack, a desire for something which he does not possess,
the tendency of which will be to stimulate him to activity in some
direction; and unless his activity is directed to the proper supplying
of the need, it will be misdirected, and will tend to _deprave_ rather
than to _improve_ his being.

Hence I postulate further, that when man feels within himself a desire
for happiness, he has demonstrable evidence that these are needs of
his being which have not been supplied; and any attempt to fulfill
his desire, short of finding out and supplying the true need, will be
derogatory to his highest good and destiny, and will consequently fail
of conferring that which he seeks, happiness.

I therefore postulate further, that happiness or enjoyment is not to
be sought; that if it come at all, it must come unsought; that it is a
necessary and inseparable incident of the true life, by which is meant
that life which in its activity fulfills its every need. That happiness
which is sought after is never found, simply because it is not an
_end_, but only an _incident_ of being; and that while man is absorbed
in the pursuit of pleasure, he must necessarily be unmindful of his
needs, and thereby he will neglect their demands.

Here we have the foundation laid for examining the distinction between
the true impulse, known as love in the various planes of unfolding, and
that which is to be characterized as lust. The true impulse is that
which indicates a need of some department of our being, and which
prompts to activity, looking to the supply of that need, independent
of any gratification which it may promise. The false impulse is that
which prompts to activity, not in respect to any specific need, but in
respect to the gratification which it may afford. This latter impulse
is known as lust.

For the purpose of distinction I shall denominate the true impulse,
_love_, as being a manifestation of the Divine Father’s wisdom and
goodness, in whatever plane it may be found; and I shall denominate the
false impulse, _lust_, as being a manifestation of that which tends to
lead to selfishness and antagonism, and makes the interests of finite
self overrule those of infinite self, or the selfhood of the divine.

In the scale of being there is every plane of unfolding, from the
unconscious to the divine consciousness; that is, there is every sphere
of divine action and manifestation, from the monad to the highest
angel, and consequently there are many degrees of love as the true
impulse to action. It has its sphere in the plane of physical need, in
the plane of intellectual and moral need, and in the plane of religious
need; and it is exalted just in proportion as it approaches the
absolute or divine.

As there is a true impulse belonging to every plane of unfolding,
begetting the proper enjoyment in the conscious plane when its demand
is properly complied with, so also is there every degree of lustful
desire seeking gratification in every plane, differing in grossness
according to the _means_ by which it seeks its gratification.

Reflection will satisfy every truth-seeking mind that desire for
self-gratification, as an impulse to action, has its basis in self;
and, from its nature, makes itself the center of attraction, and
becomes a sort of an absorbent, seeking self-appropriation; and
whenever it makes an expenditure, it is with respect to that which is
to return. And it never gives without the hope of receiving in return a
full equivalent.

This principle of action is from its nature finite and antagonistic,
upon the principle that that which it seeks to appropriate to its own
benefit and make its own, can not at the same time be appropriated by
another; and hence the desire of self-appropriation naturally leads the
individual into antagonism with others.

This finite and selfish impulse is the very opposite of the infinity
and unselfishness of the divine. Its imperfect and antagonistic rule
of action can not harmonize with the perfection and harmonic action of
the divine. As the finite in every respect is the negative and opposite
of the infinite, so this finite impulse in the individual is in every
respect the negative and opposite of the divine impulse. It is for this
cause that there is such an antagonism between the principle of love
and the principle of lust; an antagonism which must continue until the
divine shall bring all into subjection—until the finite shall, in its
principle of action, harmonize in the infinite, or until God shall
become _all_ in _all_.

Having already postulated that all true and legitimate desire in
the individual has strict reference to the needs of the individual,
independent of any promised gratification, and that the gratification
incident to the supply of such needs was the measure of all true
finite happiness, I now proceed to illustrate this truth by an appeal
to the experience of all who hear me.

Happiness, in its general sense, is the fulfillment of desire. And the
more complete is the fulfillment of every desire, the more complete is
the happiness; and happiness can not be perfect until every desire is
fulfilled. If in fulfilling the desire of one department of our being
we neglect the needs and consequent demands of another, we may obtain
temporary gratification, but it does not answer the full demand of our
being so as to confer happiness. On the contrary, while we gratify a
lust, we resist a true demand, and purchase gratification by disease
and suffering.

The individual, ignorant or unmindful of the true demands of his being,
and intent upon self-gratification, must forever fail of obtaining
happiness, because in his lustful pursuit he does not heed the real
demands of his entire being, and therefore he does not minister to
their needs; and hence can not obtain ease and satisfaction. All
pleasure-seekers can testify as they have testified, that their
pleasures are more in anticipation than participation. Their happiness
is in the future, and seldom if ever in the present. The time never
comes when they find every desire gratified, and consequently they are
never quite contented, therefore never quite happy. The very desire
after happiness is that which defeats it. The finite belongs to the
present; the _past_ is his schoolmaster, teaching him in the _present_
how to receive the future. His duties and needs are of _to-day_, and
those which pertain to the morrow will come on the morrow, not before.
“Sufficient unto the day are the evils thereof,” and sufficient
unto the day are the _duties_ and _pleasures_ thereof. Man can not
take being and existence by anticipation, neither can he take their
true incidents in that way. All anticipations of pleasure by which
the individual is made to live in the future, to the neglect of the
present, are lustful and illegitimate, and antagonize with man’s true
nature and destiny, and consequently tend to defeat true happiness.
That this is so, all human experience affirms. That this must be so,
the philosophy of true happiness demonstrates.

There is no room for controversy upon this point. It is most evident
that true happiness can only flow to the finite by fulfilling the true
desires of the finite, and that complete satisfaction can only take
place when every true desire or demand is complied with.

Now it must follow that every true desire is indicative of a real need
of the being in which it exists; and consequently when every need is
supplied, every true desire must be gratified, and true happiness must
be the result. And as every need has respect to that which pertains
to the _present_, every true desire belongs to the present, and asks
present fulfillment.

From considerations of this kind it becomes evident that anticipated
pleasures are illegitimate, and belong to the school of lusts, and
do not tend to beget true happiness; and that just in proportion as
the individual is absorbed in the anticipated pleasures or duties of
the morrow, he is disregarding the true law of his being, neglecting
present needs, and laying the foundation for defeating the very end
he seeks. Man, as a physical, intellectual, moral, and religious
being, has needs pertaining to each and every department thereof,
and consequently in supplying these needs he becomes receptive of
pleasure from every department of his being. When he is truly and
harmoniously unfolded, all his needs are orderly and harmoniously set
forth; and when he truly complies with their demand, his delights or
gratifications blend or flow together in one harmonious stream, and
his whole soul is filled with the divinest melody, instinct with the
_present_ God. But note, the moment he neglects a single need, or
misdirects the energies of his being, there is not only a strain which
is not represented in the choral anthem of God, but it is caused to
vibrate discordantly with those strains which are represented, and
instead of a soul pulsating with the divinest melody and joy, you have
it harshly jarring to the discordant notes of antagonism and death.

The principles of this philosophy affirm that man must attend to
the needs of every department of his being, if he would develop
harmoniously. The Divine, in the plenitude of his wisdom, has given
to man nothing superfluous. His physical body, with its needs, is
just as essential to the perfect man as is his spiritual being; and
its demands are as imperative in their sphere. And man is as really
obeying the Divine in truly administering to his physical as to his
spiritual needs; and the pleasures attending the true administration
are as true and just in their sphere as are those pertaining to more
exalted spheres of being and action. He who despises and afflicts
his body to benefit his soul mistakes the divine order and method,
and in afflicting his body wars with the true interests and destiny
of his immortal being. The disposition to afflict the body for the
benefit of the soul is that higher manifestation of the selfish and
lustful principle turning its weapons purposely upon itself. Its aim is
self-gain, and, through that, self-gratification. Hence the cloistered
nun, the solitary monk, and the stern ascetic, of whatever school, are
violating the divine method and law as much as is the pleasure-seeking
worldling. They are as really under the dominion of their lusts for
self-gratification as any other class. Their expenditure of worldly
pleasure has respect to the spiritual, which they hope thereby to
obtain; and, like any other selfish being, they only act with respect
to some expected gain, bringing with it enjoyment or gratification.

The great error of the world is that it does not distinguish between
the true and false impulse, giving rise to true and false action, out
of which grows true and false development, bringing existence into
antagonism and false relation.

Said the Divine Teacher, speaking of little children, “Of such is the
kingdom of heaven.” The infant at birth instinctively obeys the law of
its being, and it continues to do so in every department of its being
which does not come under the rule of its conscious, voluntary action.
When it feels the demand for food to nourish and develop its infantile
body, it indicates that demand by its restlessness and complainings;
and when the demand is supplied, its complainings cease. It does not
ask for gratification beyond the supply of its needs; _that_ it does
ask for, and must have to give it quiet. During this early period
it eats to live, and continues to do so until, by its development,
another nature with its needs is brought into conscious existence, and
neglected. Then the unsatisfied demands of that other nature impart
disquiet to the being, and he begins to search after gratification. It
is in this way that lust is begotten. It is never felt until the demand
of some need is neglected, and it is an immutable law that such neglect
must beget lust; and hence whoever feels the demand for gratification
of any sort hears the voice of God within proclaiming a neglected
demand, a perishing need. He sees the cherubim of God standing at
the gate of Paradise, with a drawn sword of flame turning in every
direction, guarding the tree of life. Thus man’s lusts proclaim his
imperishable needs, and, when truly understood, they are but the echo
of God’s voice calling upon him to return and live.

The child naturally comes under the dominion of its lusts through
ignorance. It feels the disquieting influence of its neglected needs;
it feels discontented and unhappy, and therefore it seeks gratification
in such direction as experience has taught it it might sometimes be
found. He early learns the pleasures of sense. He could not comply with
the demands of his physical nature without knowing them; hence, when he
feels a demand for something—he does not know what—what more natural
than that he should seek sensual gratification. Thus it is according
to the figure, that man partakes of the forbidden fruit before his
eyes are opened to know good and evil. His first disobedience is in
consequence of his ignorance of the nature and requirements of his
needs; and, seeking to obtain gratification, he violates the true
law of his being. But as man has needs pertaining to his physical,
intellectual, moral, and religious natures, and as there are pleasures
pertaining to the proper supplying of them, man’s lusts may lead him
to act in either the physical, intellectual, or moral and religious
departments; and, as already remarked, the _grossness_ of the lust will
depend upon the plan and the means by which it seeks gratification.
Reflection will demonstrate that the different lusts, as they are
called, differ not in the primary impulse, but differ in the manner of
seeking gratification. Man, in the external and finite of his being,
may be differently affected by the different modes of gratification
which his lust prompts him to seek. Thus the physical effect produced
upon him by seeking gratification through his appetite for strong
drink, will be different from that produced upon him by seeking
gratification through his relish for food or social amusement. Seeking
gratification through the improper exercise of any of the faculties of
the body or mind tends to produce injury in two ways.

First, the tendency is to call off the attention from the actual
needs of the being, so that the proper demands are neglected, and
thereby lustful desires become intensified by the influx of an
unnatural degree of energy in that false direction. And second, by
overtaxing the capacity of those organs which are used for lustful
gratification. Thus the inebriate and glutton who make use of their
appetites as a means of gratification, often weaken and disease the
organs of digestion and assimilation, and thereby disqualify them
for performing their proper functions. Man can not engage in lustful
exercises without subjecting himself to these twofold evils. And
their manifestation will be according to the plane of the lust and the
means adopted for its gratification. But while lusts differ thus in
their modes of expression, as well as in their primary and secondary
effects upon the individual, they are all alike in their inception,
and in the end sought to be attained. They all have their beginning in
the neglect of some need, which creates a sense of lack, and they all
seek self-gratification irrespective of such need; so that all lust, in
whatever plane found, is alike in its origin and end. All are fatal to
true happiness.

The general sameness of character of all lusts accounts for the
singular compounds and apparent incongruities of character found in
certain individuals. That is, it is not unfrequent to find individuals
remarkable for their zeal in politics, morals, and religion, carried
away at times by the grossest lusts. Men, eminent for their piety,
sometimes have been notorious for their intemperance and lewdness; and
the world have been astonished at it. But a careful attention to the
distinction to be made between the true impulse and lust soon solves
the mystery. Such men are pre-eminently under the influence of lust in
every department of their being—in the moral and religious as well as
in the physical. The piety of such men may be ever so deep and earnest,
yet its basis is in use. They see nothing in the Divine character or
perfections which excites in them love or admiration any further than
it is to bear upon their own well-being and happiness. Their love of
God is a love of the instrument or means by which they are to become
supremely blessed. And their love, after all, is a love of their own
happiness, and of God as essential to their happiness. If they should
discover that God stood in the way of their future enjoyment, they
would like him no better than any other enemy.

Such minds mistake lust for love, and in seeking their own happiness
call it seeking God; and in rejoicing in their anticipations, call it
rejoicing in God. The man that seeks religion for the sake of securing
to himself salvation and endless delight, is just as lustful and
selfish as he who seeks gratification in any other way. Man may go a
whoring after strange gods as well as after strange women.

Those who appeal to men to get religion in order that they may escape
misery and secure happiness, appeal to their lusts, and so far as
they influence them by their appeals to their hopes and fears, they
stimulate them to lust. The individual who seeks religion for the
purpose of saving his soul, is exercising the very impulse which most
of all tends to defeat his salvation. Hence said Jesus upon this very
point, “Whosoever seeketh to save his life shall lose it,” etc. The
very impulse is as selfish and undivine as possible. It is for this
very reason that the influence of the popular religions of the day is
not redemptive in its character. To say to the world that when all
should be converted to the religion of these fashionable churches, the
millennium would come, would provoke in the highest degree their sense
of the ludicrous. Their lustful seeking after self-gratification is so
apparent and gross, that they can not even deceive themselves.

It will not be considered a false declaration when I say, that there
is no possible resemblance of character or practice between these
modern fashionable Christians and Jesus of Nazareth. The redemptive
principle of the religion of Jesus can not be found in their religion.
The difference is, Jesus was seeking the kingdom of heaven and its
righteousness, while they are seeking self-gratification. The impulse
in Jesus was that of religious love; theirs is a religious lust. The
impulse in Jesus led him to hunger and thirst after righteousness;
theirs leads them to hunger and thirst after the things of sense.
Jesus, in the things pertaining to the world, was the Lazarus; they are
the Dives.

Furthermore, I must be permitted to say that the popular religions of
the day are manifestations of man’s lustful character, in the moral and
religious plane; and that it is more difficult to reform a man in his
moral and religious lusts than it is in his animal lusts. It was for
this reason that Jesus pronounced his severest woes upon the Scribes
and Pharisees, who thought they were righteous and who despised others.
Hence he said to them, “Ye shut up the kingdom of heaven against
yourselves.” Also, “The publicans and harlots do pass into the kingdom
of heaven before you.”

The proposition reduced to its simplest form is this: True religion
can not dwell with lust. “Ye can not serve God and mammon.” But the
religion of the Pharisee of every age is lust in its highest and most
impregnable plane. Hence the more of such proposed religion they have,
the farther are they from true religion. Jesus was condemning lust in
the moral or charitable plane when he directed that alms should be done
in secret. The impulse to charitable deeds which looks to self-gain or
self-gratification, brings no reward to the soul of the giver. If he is
prompted by a desire after fame, or from a hope of inward satisfaction,
he does not act from the true impulse. He who sounds the trumpet in
the world or in his soul, to call attention to his charities, can have
no reward of his Father in heaven. He who acts from the true divine
impulse acts spontaneously, acts as it were involuntarily; that is, he
is not aware that he wills. His left hand knows not what his right hand
doeth. He meets with a case of need. He stops not to argue the question
and determine probabilities and uses. The steel and the flint are in
contact, and the spark, comes forth.

In the domestic relation of husband and wife, parent and child, brother
and sister, there is much of this moral lust which is mistaken for
love. Many professing to be husbands, and really thinking themselves to
be so, love the _use_ of their wives better than the wife, just as the
lustful in religion love the _use_ of God better than God.

It is this mistaking _lust_ for _love_ which begets so many unhappy
marriages. The considerations leading to the union are not unfrequently
of a lustful character altogether. Thus the young man seeking a wife
is constantly trying the question of use. She will administer to his
comfort in this way and that, and upon the whole she will be the
means of making him very happy. It will not be denied that in a vast
majority of cases the man, in seeking a wife, is seeking after his own
happiness, and he will cherish her while she conduces to that end.
But if he finds himself disappointed—finds that she fails to fulfill
his expectation—the ardor of his love begins to abate; and just in
proportion as he is disappointed in his expectations will he grow cold
and neglectful. So common is this that it has arrested the attention
of universal man. The difference between the fondness manifested
while yet the newly-wedded pair have met with no disappointments,
and that which is manifested a few weeks or months later, has given
rise to the expression “_the honey-moon_,” meaning that the age of a
single moon is usually sufficient to reveal the imperfections of the
loving pair, and consequently to cause the ardor of their love to
abate. The husband does not find in the wife all that he anticipated.
She is not so perfectly adapted to making him happy as he had hoped.
Consequently he is disappointed. And as his happiness was the object of
his pursuit when he was seeking a wife, and he mistook that lust for
self-gratification for love for the wife, being disappointed in his
lust, he finds little or nothing of love left.

It is thus, by mistaking lust for love, that so many disappointments
take place, and so many unhappy unions are formed; and while the
individuals are under this lust for self-gratification, there is little
hope of their doing better a second time. It was in reference to this
lustful and selfish love that Jesus said unless a man loved him or his
doctrines with a better and purer love than that with which he loved
wife, children, parents, etc., he could not become his disciple. The
simple truth of the expression was, that man’s love, or the love of the
world, was lustful; and unless man loved God and truth with a purer
love than that lustful love, he could not be a true disciple.

The same lustful impulse is found in the parental and fraternal
relation. Man is so naturally selfish and lustful, that it is found in
every relation, leading him into the broad road to disobedience and
sin. And herein is manifested the deep excellence of the morality of
Jesus, that it aimed a fatal blow at the lust itself, and thus “laid
the axe at the root of the tree.” “His fan was in his hand, and he
thoroughly purged his floor,” “gathering the wheat into the garner, and
burning the chaff with unquenchable fire.”

In man’s social relations the same lust after self-gratification is
found. The friendships of the world have this lustful basis, and herein
are they distinguished from true friendship. The selfish man or woman
seeks social and friendly intercourse for the pleasure or gratification
it affords. They cultivate social and friendly relations solely with
respect to the pleasures thereof. Consequently their love of _friends_
is only in their _use_ to them. They love their own gratification
supremely, and they love the use of that which will administer
thereto—consequently their attachments turn upon the question of
gratification. They do nothing, they love nothing in forgetfulness of
separate self.

This distinction between true love and lust is to be made in every
plane. The true impulse in every plane is the manifestation of the
present God in that plane. The obeying that impulse is obeying God.
The harmonizing with it is harmonizing with God; and the individual
who in all things walks in accordance with its principles is walking
with God, and is in the straight and narrow path which leadeth unto
life; while he who, on the contrary, is led by his desire after
self-gratification, in whatever plane, is in the broad road which
leads to antagonism and death. “His lusts, when they conceive, bring
forth sin; and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death.”

There is no middle ground between _love_ and _lust_; and unless the
distinction be taken where I have taken it, it can not be taken at all.
Excuse the principle of seeking after gratification as a true incentive
to action, and you have destroyed the distinction between purity and
impurity—between truth and falsehood—between holiness and sin. If
action in respect to use and the gratification of self be the highest,
then, indeed, there is no God—no virtue—no right. Such is the ultimate
conclusion of those who know of no higher rule of action than pertains
to the sphere of use and gratification. They know of no intrinsic
virtue, goodness, purity, etc. They affirm of existence the qualities
of good or bad from results. They say that a thing is right or wrong
because the result is wrong, and not that the result was wrong because
the thing itself was intrinsically bad.

This is a very common error with the world. They are apt to trace
the evil in the result and overlook it in the cause. The reason that
lustful action is pernicious is not because its results are bad, but
because the condition itself is intrinsically false, and can not
produce other than false fruit.

We sum up in this. Man will never feel the need of that which he does
not lack. He will never feel the need of happiness or gratification so
long as every demand of his nature is gratified; because the compliance
with every demand of his being will of itself confer all that he can
desire, and he will be satisfied. Hence the desire for that which he
does not possess demonstrates that there are true and just demands of
his being which are not complied with.

Therefore any attempt to satisfy that desire, short of complying with
the true demand, will result in begetting false action, which will tend
to overtax and disease some part of his organism, creating an unnatural
demand in that department, which, instead of bringing satisfaction
and content, will bring restlessness and disquiet, calling for still
further gratification. Thus lust, when it is conceived, bringeth forth
a violation of the normal or healthy condition, which is sin; and that
sin in its work, when finished, bringeth forth death.

CHAPTER XII.

MARRIAGE—FREE LOVE.

“Think not that I am come to destroy the law or the prophets. I am not
come to destroy, but to fulfill.”—JESUS’ _Sermon_.

MAN, as a finite and relational being, is the subject of government.
Being produced and developed by laws acting to certain ends, he is the
subject of such laws. Being receptive of influences out of himself, he
is subject to such external influences, through their action upon his
conscious perceptions and affections.

Man, as a conscious being, is the subject of two classes of impulses.
One is a sense of affinity, the other of restraint. The first is the
natural impulse proceeding from certain relations, and is a spontaneous
proceeding from such relation without considering consequences. The
other is a reflex impulse proceeding from supposed consequences which
will follow certain conditions and actions, and has respect to ends or
uses.

This latter class of impulses makes him the subject of outward motions,
and bring him under the dominion of laws external to his being. As such
he becomes the subject of an external government. As a conscious being,
man is the subject of two classes of external government, the one which
appeals to his selfish and lustful nature, and the other which appeals
to his moral and relational nature—and he is the proper subject of the
one or the other government, according to the character of his ruling
affection or love.

Man, as a conscious being, can be governed only through some department
of his consciousness. That which induces in him volition must address
his perceptions, and proceed thence to his affections. For man’s
affections can not be approached externally except through his
perception. This is most manifest to the reflecting mind. Before an
individual can love or hate an object, he must be able to perceive it.
And his love or hatred thereof will be according to his perceptions.
Hence it will be perceived that the individual who is in the ruling
love of self, if governed at all as a conscious being, must be governed
by an appeal to his selfish nature; that is, by an appeal to his hopes
and fears. For so long as he is not under the rule of his moral nature,
he can not be governed by its influence. If man is to be controlled, he
must be controlled by controlling that which controls him.

The selfish and lustful man is under the dominion of his selfish
nature, and whatever controls that nature governs him. And he can
be governed, as a lustful being, only by controlling his selfish
nature. The same is true in principle of the moral man, or he who is
under the dominion of his moral nature. Whatever controls the moral
nature governs him; and so long as he is under the dominion of his
moral nature he must be so governed. Thus it will be perceived that
our proposition is true, that man, as a conscious being, must be
governed through that department thereof which rules in him. If it be
the selfish, he must be governed by an appeal to selfishness; if it be
charity or moral love, then that nature must be appealed to.

Since, then, man must be governed by an appeal to that impulse which
rules in him, and since mankind are naturally under the selfish
impulse, the first government to which man becomes subject naturally is
that of force; and it appeals to his hopes and fears—that is, to his
selfish desire for gain or happiness, and his dread of suffering and
loss. Hence _selfishness_ is the basis of the first dispensation of
government. This dispensation of government is not calculated, nor is
it designed, to make the comer thereunto perfect. Its end and use is
to protect the individual from external or outward evils, and not from
that which comes from within. It can not extend beyond the cleansing of
the outside of the cup and platter.

The most this kind of government can do is to restrain man from
depredating upon the rights of his neighbor, by an appeal to his
selfishness. Hence the language of the law pertaining to this kind of
government is, “eye for an eye,” “tooth for a tooth,” “life for life,”
etc. It does not propose to govern man by appealing to his sense of
justice and his love for right. On the contrary its language is, man
has no sense of justice or love of right. He is selfish and sensual,
and therefore the law appeals to his selfishness and sensualism. It
says, Your love of your neighbor is not sufficiently strong to prevent
you from injuring him, but your love of self is sufficiently strong
to prevent your injuring yourself. Therefore says the law, if you
injure your neighbor, we will injure you; if you kill your neighbor,
we will kill you; and the same blow which you aim at your neighbor, we
will cause to fall upon your own head. In this way this first kind of
government takes advantage of man’s selfishness to restrain him. It
does not cause him to love his neighbor. It does not cause him, from
his heart, to respect his neighbor’s rights. It does not tend to lesson
his selfishness or lust. It does not in any manner tend to make him
more true, just, and pure at heart. It only restrains him from giving
expression to his selfish and lustful desires.

So far as his motions to action are concerned, he is under the same
impulse, whether he keep or break the law. He is as righteous at
heart in violating its commandments as in observing its requirements.
In either case he is governed by his judgment respecting that which
pertains to his self-interest, and in keeping the law he is consulting
his own gratification, and in violating it he is doing the same.

So far is this kind of government from tending to make the individual
better at heart, that it not unfrequently makes him more selfish by
intensifying his selfish feelings. The individual who is restrained
from stealing through fear of punishment, and not from a love of
justice, is a thief at heart, and will continue so notwithstanding the
law says, “Thou shalt not steal,” and by its penalties deters him from
stealing. His neighbors may thank the law for its protection. But that
is the end of its use. It will not improve the _moral_ condition of its
subject.

Such, then, is the nature and use of this just dispensation, sometimes
called the first covenant. It is absolutely indispensable for the
protection and preservation of individuals and society. Man left to the
unrestrained exercise of his lustful and selfish nature, would not only
destroy his neighbor, but he would ultimately destroy himself. And thus
the very principle of self-protection compels individuals to associate
together under these governmental forms, by means of which the weak are
to be protected against the encroachments of the strong, the simple
against the machinations of the cunning.

This necessity gives rise to institutions among men which are designed
to direct the _manner_ of applying this power to the protection of
those who institute them. The laws of these institutions are but the
expressions of the intellectual and moral character of those who make
them. Their wisdom is displayed in adapting the means by which their
united force shall be directed to the execution of the governmental
will, whether that be just or unjust.

The uses of these external governments are most apparent; by which I
mean their uses as a means of protection. The highest possible use of
governmental institutions is that of uniting and directing its force
to prevent the weak from becoming the prey of the strong, and the
simple the dupes of the cunning. If every man or human being had the
means of self-protection always at hand, or if none were disposed to
encroach upon the rights of others, but were disposed to do good to
all rather than evil, then there would be no occasion for governmental
institutions. So we see that the uses of institutions, as means of
government, have respect to the concentration and direction of force.

But as the selfish man can be governed only by an appeal to his selfish
nature, and that must be addressed through the motives of hope and
fear, these institutions of government, addressing man’s hopes and
fears, are indispensable for the well-being of society, and can never
be dispensed with until man is elevated to a higher plane, and made the
subject of a higher government. In other words, this kind of government
must never be taken from man, but man must be elevated above, and thus
be taken from the government. There have been two opposite errors
respecting this kind of government: one declaring it to be ordained
by God, and therefore to be observed and obeyed as an exponent of the
Divine will and character; the other holding that all governments
of force and blood are contrary to Divine appointment—both of which
doctrines are true when viewed in a proper direction, and false when
viewed in the opposite one.

In the first place, it is according to Divine appointment that man,
as well as every other finite being, shall be governed according to
the law of the plane in which he exists and acts; because every thing
existing in a finite and relational sphere must become the subject
of some law, or it could perform no mission in respect to itself or
any other existence. Without law it could not be saved from utter
destruction. And being the subject of law, it must be the law of the
plane in which it exists and acts; hence whatever may be the law of
that plane, it is one of Divine appointment.

Man living in the plane of selfishness and lust must be governed by the
laws of that plane; he can be governed by no other. Hence the law of
that plane of sensualism requiring “eye for eye,” “tooth for tooth,”
“life for life,” etc., is a law of Divine appointment for that plane;
and whoever descends into that plane of impulse, and lives there,
becomes subject to its law. Having yielded himself servant to obey his
selfishness and lust, he has become the subject of its laws. Having
taken the sword, he is subject to its use. Having appealed to force, he
must be sure to be on the strongest side, or he will be likely to be
crushed.

But while the law of selfishness and force is one of Divine
appointment, in the sensual plane, it must not be understood as giving
law to any other plane. If the law of “eye for eye,” “tooth for tooth,”
etc., was applicable to the dispensation of sensualism, which the
Mosaic represents, it does not follow that it is the true law of the
Christian or Spiritual dispensation; and he who appeals to such laws
of the Mosaic can have the benefit of them by containing under that
kind of government. But he must remember, if he wishes to obtain the
benefits of the Christian dispensation, he must “put away the old man
with his deeds.”

Hence, according to the teachings of Jesus, he who would become
his disciple must rise above the plane of sensualism. The new law
under which he was to come demanded that the law of force should be
discontinued. If he would have the benefits of the kingdom of heaven,
that is, of the government pertaining to the moral and spiritual
plane, he must not resist evil by force; he must not smite back when
smitten; he must not indulge in feelings of hatred or unkindness
toward any one; he must love his enemies; bless them in the midst of
their cursings. He must be pure in heart; he must hunger and thirst
after righteousness; he must, in all things, be under the dominion of
a love, pure, holy, and unselfish. Such a one would be freed from the
law of sin and death; such a one would cease to be a debtor to the law
of the first dispensation, and would be born into liberty, not into a
liberty to do wrong, but a liberty which had respects to his purified
affections.

This will be understood by contrasting the principles of the two
dispensations. The first governed by a force external to the subject,
constraining him as a selfish being to do things not agreeable to
him, thus bringing his will into subjection. The second governed by
implanting the true affection within the subject, so that his delight
was in the law, according to the inward man. Hence the new kingdom was
to be “within.” The first was over man with force and fear; the second
was to be within man with charity and love.

From this it will be seen, that the first government, or covenant, as
it is called, necessarily required external institutions to beget and
direct its force to compel obedience to its enactments and edicts.
And these institutions were necessarily authoritative; and persons
belonging to their plane of administration were compelled to submit to
them, as to the authority of God.

The second government or covenant which ignored force, and governed by
love, had no use for such institutions, and hence returned the sword
to its sheath. Under its administration, swords were to be beaten into
plowshares and spears into pruning-hooks. Men were to “call no man
master.” But it must be noticed that this second government pertained
only to those who had come under the rule of charity and love, and
thus had put off the old man and his deeds. So long as the individual,
in his affections and lusts, continued in bondage to the impulses of
his animal nature, he belonged to the first dispensation, and must
be continued under tutors and governors until the coming into him of
Christ.

Here, then, we see the two classes of errors into which mankind have
fallen, the first by supposing that the laws of selfishness and force
were applicable to all planes, and that the Christian could find
authority under Moses. The second, by supposing that the laws of
selfishness and force were to be abolished in every plane, not thinking
that such law is just as necessary at one time as another, so long as
man continues under that plane of impulse. Herein we can see the wisdom
of Jesus in his teachings. He came not to destroy the law, or take it
away from man, but his mission was to take man away from the law, and
thus to fulfill or consummate the uses of the law. He condemned not
the law of force as applicable to those who, in their selfishness and
lusts, were under its dominion. And he did not propose to emancipate
them by destroying the law. But he did propose to redeem them from
under it, by calling them to a higher plane of impulse and action. He
proposed to lead them out of Egypt, not take Egypt away from them.

Herein is to be found one of the fundamental errors of Christendom, in
not perceiving the true meaning of the _first_ and _second_ covenants;
that is, in not perceiving the true sphere of the Mosaic and Christian
governments. Each are of divine appointment in their respective
spheres; and neither have respect to time or place of administration,
but to condition. The Mosaic, which is a figure representing the
governments of force addressed to man as a selfish being, will never be
at an end so long as society is in a condition to require that kind of
administration. It will not be at an end in the individual until his
moral nature is in the ascendant, until he keeps that new commandment
of “Love one another.” And the Mosaic dispensation will not be at an
end in society until the kingdom of heaven is established in the hearts
of the members thereof.

The theologian has committed a great error in making the kingdom of
heaven a historic affair, supposing that the death of Jesus terminated
the first, and introduced the second dispensation, not seeming to
understand that the _character_ of the government determined to which
dispensation it belonged irrespective of time or place. That government
which is instituted with respect to, and is administered upon the
principles of selfishness and force, is Mosaic, no matter in what age
or by whom administered. All civil and ecclesiastical governments which
are external and forceful belong to the Mosaic, no matter by what
names they may be called. A moment’s reflection will demonstrate to a
mind of ordinary intelligence and information, that all external human
governments are of this character. We have no Christian governments
exercising power and compelling external obedience to law. The very
supposition is an absurdity. The very moment a government is organized,
and clothes itself with external force, its _Christian_ character is
destroyed.

Christianity, in its true spiritual and saving character, acts only
from _within_ the _individual_. It is not a government over men or
among men. It is a government in man. It cleanses the _inside_ of the
cup and the platter, and _thence_ makes clean the outside. Christians
have no need of governments to keep them in the right way. Understand
me—_real_ Christians, not _professing_ ones. They have no uses for
institutions, for each obeys the right, and takes upon himself the
labor of all needful charities.

Thus it will be found to be a truth of universal applicability, that
wherever institutions, and especially legal institutions, are found
necessary, the people are not Christians, no matter what creed they
profess. Christianity pertains to _character_, not _creed_. External
institutions are incompatible with true Christianity. Both can not
live and act together in the same individual. Men have been conscious
of this, and hence have been involved in doubt and difficulty as to
their duties. But there need be no difficulty on this point. Let it
be understood, that the man who feels the needs of outward restraint
belongs to the Mosaic government, and by it he must be governed; that
all men who are under the dominion of their selfish natures have not
put on Christ, and hence are under Moses. Such are under the law, and
must be continued under “tutors and governors.”

External institutions, then, belong to the first dispensation, and will
continue to be necessary so long as man continues to live under the
dominion of his selfishness and lusts. When he shall be redeemed from
such nature in himself, he will be redeemed from bondage to external
institutions, and he can not properly be before. The evil, then, is
not in the institution, but in that condition of the individual and
society which makes the institution necessary; and the remedy is not
in destroying the institution, but in elevating man, and thereby
dispensing with its need; and until that is done, the law and the
prophets must continue.

This brings me directly to the _institution_ of Marriage, respecting
which so much has been said of late. Like all other _institutions_, it
belongs to the external and Mosaic, and looks to the external relations
of the parties. Its necessity is based upon the same selfish and
lustful principle in man, as is the necessity of all other external
institutions.

Its office is _protection_, not _purification_. Hence all its laws
look to legal security, but do not attempt to elevate and purify the
affections. Those who have written and spoken against the external
marriage institution have acted very unphilosophically in supposing
that the fault of which they complain was in the institution and not in
themselves. I will endeavor to make this apparent.

In the first place, I will do them the justice to say, that the
external institution is in character but little, if any, better than
they affirm of it; that it is made the means of rendering respectable
the grossest lusts; that there is no Christian difference between lust
_within_ and lust _without_ the forms of wedlock; that the individual
who looks upon another with a lustful desire, when tried by the
standard of Jesus, is an adulterer, whether sustaining the external
marital relation or not.

In speaking of the _abuses_ of this institution, I would not have them
abate their zeal by ceasing to proclaim its infidelity to that inward
purity of soul so essential to the true Christian union; but I would
have them make a very different use of the fact.

The use which many, and perhaps most of those who oppose the external
institution of marriage make of its lustful abuses, is rather to
palliate the conduct of those who are lustful outside of its license,
by showing that, at heart, they do not differ from those who indulge
in the same lustful desires and exercises _under_ its licentious
permission; thus very naturally taking license, and, when censured by
others, pleading the respectable guilt of others as their excuse.

In speaking of the abuses of the marriage institution, I would not
plead them in mitigation of lust; nor would I make them the occasion
of license. I would refer to them for the purpose of condemning more
strongly the foul practice of seeking gratification in that direction.

It is not to be objected to the external institution of marriage that
under its sanction the grossest of lusts are practiced in the name of
virtue, and that the weightiest evils are the result. Such is not the
fault of the institution, but of those who use it for that purpose; and
were it not for the institution, under the present lustful condition
of society, the same practice would become universal, and would be
as respectable as it now is under the sanctions of wedlock. If the
external institution does not restrain the exercise of lust between
the parties thereof, it does render disreputable its exercise beyond,
and thus exerts an influence for good to that extent. It does not make
the comer thereunto perfect in his character; but it tends to restrain
him in the exercise of his lust toward others, and thus confines its
evils to a narrower sphere. One of the greatest moral benefits of the
legal institution of marriage is that it tends to restrict the lustful
practices of the parties to themselves; and, in reality, this is the
bondage of which the objector complains.

The advocate of that which is called “free love” complains that under
the legal institution of marriage the parties are prohibited from
following their attractions or passional affinities; that although they
might have been suited to each other at the time of the union, that
circumstances and tastes have changed; that love requires variety,
and that in matters of love each ought to be at liberty to follow its
leadings. The first great error into which the advocate of free love
falls is in mistaking _lust_ for _love_. The doctrine that love changes
is a fundamental error, and of itself demonstrates that the objector
has mistaken _lust_ for love. The true impulse known as love has an
immutable basis, and will be as constant as the relation and need
through which and for which it became manifest.

The nature of _hunger_ and _thirst_, as expressive of the needs of the
body for food and drink, never changes; and the gratification incident
to the proper supply of those needs never changes until abuse and
disease have wrought their work. Man’s desire for particular kinds of
food may change; but that has respect to lustful gratification rather
than the supply of a real need.

Remembering our definition of lust to be _a desire for
self-gratification_, we shall find that this _change_ and _variety_ in
food and drink looks more to the gratification of desires than to the
fulfilling of needs, and therefore belongs to the class of lusts.

True love never changes. From its nature it can not. It being that
impulse which indicates an affectional need, it must be as unchanging
as the soul and God. Take that known as maternal love, and who that
has known a mother’s love will say that it demands for its life and
continuance variety and change? Tell the mother, as she presses her
first-born to her bosom, that she will soon demand change and variety
to keep alive her maternal affection, and she would reply in the
language of Macduff, “He has no children.” No, of all things else, true
love will admit of no change, no variety.

In no affectional relation, save that of husband and wife, would the
free lover admit that love required change or variety. In the parental,
fraternal, filial, and social relations that doctrine does not apply.
The parent loves his child, and feels no demand for variety.

What would be thought of that mother who should tire of loving her
child, and give as an excuse that her tastes had changed; that once
her child was suited to her maternal affection; but that now her
maternal love had changed its character and quality, and demanded a
corresponding change on the part of the object of its affection? It
requires no argument to show that such can never be the requirements
of maternal love. The same is true of every other manifestation of
the affectional principle. Fraternal, filial, and social love will
admit of no change; demand no variety. The brother and sister can
love on and love forever; the parent and child can do the same; and
true friendship abides in constancy of affection. But _lust_ demands
variety, and consequently change. When the true impulse is overlooked,
and self-gratification becomes the end in pursuit, then comes with it
the demand for variety. This is seen in eating and drinking. Hunger
and thirst only call for simple food and drink. They will supply the
demand. But the moment gratification is consulted, then great must be
the change and large the variety. And by far the largest amount of
labor and expense is bestowed upon gratification.

The same is seen in the social department. Those who, in their social
intercourse, are seeking selfish gratification instead of the happiness
and well-being of their associates, are those who demand variety; who
themselves are _cloying_ of one kind of amusement, and then demanding
another. This principle of demanding change in food, in society, in
amusement, etc., depends upon that condition known as _cloyed_; and it
does not take place in respect to any need. The thirsty soul is never
cloyed with drink until it ceases to be thirsty; the hungry soul with
food until hunger ceases. But it is not thus with lust; it ceases to
enjoy one means of gratification after another, while yet the demand
mand for gratification continues. The same principles apply to the
marriage relation. True conjugal love never changes. It can never
change, because it must rest upon an unchangeable basis. The mode
of begetting offspring must be as enduring as the race. The demand,
therefore, will be as imperative as the necessity, and hence the desire
for offspring must be as deep and fundamental as the soul itself.

The law of procreation demands that in view of the great end to be
accomplished, those who unite in the procreative art should unite
upon the highest and purest plane. Hence the conjugal affection or
love has its basis in this deepest and most immutable necessity of
the soul. Understand me—man, in his present condition, is the grand
ultimate of all past being and action. And that which took all past
ages to accomplish is committed to man in the command to be fruitful
and multiply. The future is committed to him. That which comes into
conscious being must do so through him, and the true foundation for the
fulfillment of the great command is laid in the conjugal union of the
male and female souls. To say of the impulse calling for such union,
that it demands change and consequent variety, is blasphemously false
and absurd. The basis of conjugal love is as deep and immutable as are
the foundations of immortality and eternal life.

But let this union be a mere external and lustful one, that is, one
looking for self-gratification, and it becomes subject to the law
of lust, and consequently, like every other lustful affection, will
demand variety. The very nature of lust is to disease and destroy and
to defeat the end sought. It therefore brings with itself ultimate
cloying and disgust; and to remedy that, it must have change.

That this is the nature of that impulse which _free lovers_ mistake
for love, is further evident from its associations. The plea they set
up is, that every one is free to seek happiness; and consequently when
one relation or pursuit fails to conduce to that end, they should be
permitted to change the relation or the pursuit, and seek happiness in
another. They make the seeking after happiness the great end of life;
hence they have adopted very appropriate language, such as “passional
attraction,” “passional affinity,” etc.

For this reason, in their assemblies they aim at self-gratification.
Each is striving to beget pleasure. Their assembly-rooms are full
of amusements and “innocent recreations,” singing, dancing, playing
at different games, chatting, etc., all pursued in respect to the
pleasures they promise, and not in respect to the good irrespective
of the pleasure. The plea is, the people demand cheap amusements, or
rather need them. Cheap amusements are the very things they ought not
to have. It is but another name for cheap dissipation. But the advocate
for free love complains that the law and public sentiment hold him to
his choice, when he has made a bad one. The uses and benefits of the
law are seen in this, that they do hold all such to their choice, and
by so doing avoid a multiplicity of bad matches.

The individual who is out seeking passional affinities is under the
influence of lust, and the sooner he or she is caught and caged the
better; such can gain nothing by being permitted to experiment. Until
they can rise above their selfish and lustful natures in other things,
they will not be very likely to do it in matrimonial affairs.

END.

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Astral World—Higher Occult Powers - Clairvoyance, Spiritism, Mediumship, and Spirit-Healing Fully Explained" ***

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