The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 35
The Impossibility of Identifying the Spirits : this Brightest Feature of Spiritism, is a Broken Reed to lean Upon, and Supplies no Comfort to the Friends of the Departed
The Impossibility of Identifying the Spirits : this Brightest Feature of Spiritism, is a Broken Reed to lean Upon, and Supplies no Comfort to the Friends of the Departed.
"Persons have supposed that when they get correct answers they get tests. But when we come to understand that the spirit can come into rapport with the mind in the circle, we then discover that he can perceive his thoughts, and get the answer as well as the question from his mind, and then being in communication with the medium can answer all his questions, and give him perfect answers, as to identity, at the same time that he is a far different spirit from what he purports to be."—P. 52.
"There was a difficulty, undoubtedly, in knowing precisely how it is, even upon the testimony of spirits, because spirits there occupying different spheres and immensely differing in their degrees of development, accordingly give discrepant accounts of the matter. We must first identify the spirit and determine his trustworthiness before we could accredit his testimony. We must observe the same rules of evidence, apply the same tests, and have the same care in ascertaining their identity and veracity we do in like matters here"—"Nat. and Ten. of Modern Spiritism," p. 88.
"For our part, we do not believe that Jesus Christ has communicated through any medium directly during the present century, though we do not pretend to know. If he should come to communicate, how would he be known? No living person would know him by his form, his voice, or his writing. No person could be induced to recollect by the relation of unpublished facts in his life, or by any peculiar marks, or idiosyncracies of character, for all these are unknown. So far as we could see, there could be nothing to identify his person. If the communication should be in any respect impure or immoral in its tendency, it would stand self-condemned. If it should be found in perfect harmony with the divine law, stilt it might come from some other intervening spirit."—Reply to Dwight, page 65.
"These appearances are intended merely as reminders and as tests of identity. All intelligent spirits are great artists. They can psychologise a medium to see them, and to describe them, in the style which would produce the greatest impression on the receiver . . . . . .They can easily represent themselves as old or young, as in worldly dress or in flowing robes, as is best suited to accomplish the ends of the visitation. They substitute pantomime and appearance for oral explanations."
"The question is continually being asked, especially by noviciates in spiritual investigations, "How shall we know that the spirits who communicate with us are really the ones whom they purport to be? and for want of a satisfactory answer many minds are thrown into perplexity, and even doubt, as to whether the so-called spiritual manifestations are really such. In giving the results of our own experience and observation upon this subject, we would premise that spirits unquestionably can, and often do, personate ether spirits, and that, too, often with such perfection as, for the time, being, to defy Every effort to detect the deception. Not only can they page 24 represent the leading personal characteristics of the spirits whom they purport to be, but they can, relate such facts in the history of said spirits as may be known to the enquirer or to some one else with whom the communicating spirit is or has been en rapport. And this, in our opinion, is done so often as to very materially diminish the value of any specific tests that may be designedly instituted by the enquirer for the purpose of proving identity; and that if direct tests are demanded at all, we would recommend that they be asked for the purpose of proving that the manifesting influence is that of a spirit, rather than to prove what particular spirit is the agent of its production."
"From much experience and observation, however, we are satisfied that if, after having received in all good faith, such messages directly from the spirit friend whom it purports to be, we proceed to enquire of theological faith or speculative philosophy, or even about such practical concerns of human life as may involve the ambition, conceits or prejudices of other spirits than the one with whom up to that moment we have been talking, then other spirits who may be more nearly related to, or who may have more perfect control over the mediums, will most probably assume instantly the name and position of our friend, pushing the latter aside, and he will set forth his own theories, fancies, and probably falsities, using the name of our friend, and all the confidence we may have gained in the latter's identity, by way of enforcing what he would have us believe. And we receive the communication, perhaps with the utmost surprise that our friend, in passing into the spirit world, should have so soon changed his opinion on that particular subject."
Ques.—"I wish to ask with reference to testing spirits that come to us. We have sometimes been very sadly misled. When a spirit purports to be present, how can we know to a certainty that it is the spirit it professes to be? We have frequently tested them by asking them if they were willing to say Amen to the Lord's prayer. . . . Can you tell me of any test upon which we may always rely?
Ans.—"My dear, good friend, by no possibility can you, under present circumstances, ever be thoroughly sure of the identify of any returning spirit, because the returning spirit is out of your sight, beyond the realm and sphere of your natural senses, and these senses alone are the powers by which you can weigh and measure all things with which you come in contact. Now, I may tell you I am the spirit of such an individual who lived at such a time, and I may tell you what is absolutely true. You may believe it, but you cannot know it. . . . Now, I care not how many prayers you may repeat, or how many "Amens" the spirit may add thereto; it will not make the slightest difference with regard to testing the identity of the spirits."
"Experience shows that spirits of the same degree, of the same character, and animated by the same sentiments, are united in groups and families; but the number of the spirits is incalculable, and we are so far from knowing them all that the names of the immense majority of them are necessarily unknown to us. A spirit of the same category as Fénélon may therefore come to us in his name, may even be sent by him as his representative; in which case he would naturally announce himself as Fénélon, because he is his equivalent and able to supply his place, and because we need a name in order to fix our ideas in regard to him. And, after all, what does it matter whether a spirit be Fénélon or not, if all that he says is excellent, and such as Fénélon himself would be likely to say? For, in that case, he must be a spirit of superior advancement, and the name under which he presents himself is of no importance, being often only a means of fixing our ideas." "It is certain, however, that the assumption of false names by spirits may give rise to numerous mistakes, may be a source of error and deception, and is in fact one of the most serious difficulties of practical spiritism."
"These undeveloped spirits can deceive you by personating other spirits and relating to you facts, which they do by coming in strong rapport with you in sympathy. They do not read your brain, as often supposed, but they catch as it were a thread of your thoughts, and can so bring circumstances up at times which you have entirely forgotten."—Page 155.
"If the spirit that comes is one that I have never known, how can I be certain that it is him? But if he comes as one whom I have known intimately on earth, whoso form and features appear to me as of old, or are accurately described to me, who speaks of incidents known only to us, who displays his peculiarities of character, who gives correctly names, dates, ages, and places connected with his earth life, who evinces the emotions natural to him, and all this unknown to the instrument through whom it comes, how can the sane mind resist the conclusion that it is a departed friend who is thus communing with me?"—"Letters and Tracts," p. 188.
"One day while I was at Roxbury, there came to me, through Laura (his daughter) as the medium, the spirit of one with whom I had once been well acquainted, but from whom I had been separated for fifteen years. His was a very peculiar character—one unlike that of any other man whom I ever knew, and so strongly marked that it was not easy to mistake his identity.
"I had not seen him in several years; he was not at all in my mind at the time, and he was unknown to the medium. Yet he identified himself unmistakably, not only by his peculiar characteristics, but by referring to matters known only to him and me.
"I took it for granted he was dead, and was surprised afterwards to learn that he was not. He is yet living.
"I cannot on this occasion go into all the particulars of an interview which lasted more than an hour. I was certain there was no delusion about it, and as certain that it was just as much a spirit manifestation as any I ever witnessed or heard of."
Thus the Judge confutes himself. Similar cases to the one just cited from Judge Edmonds have been stated to me by the persons concerned in them. A lady in Castlemaine, Victoria, who with her husband had adopted spiritist views, but afterwards saw her error, stated to mo that on one page 28 occasion her husband was possessed by a spirit claiming to be that of her deceased father, who resided in England and of whose death she had not previously heard. The identification given was of such a character as to fully convince her that it was really the spirit of her father that now communicated through her husband; and she wept tears of joy at this confirmation of her faith, and the privilege granted to her of holding intercourse with the spirit of her father. What, therefore, was her surprise when she continued to receive letters from her still living father mail after mail as the months passed round. At the time when this circumstance was related to me, a period of two years had elapsed and her father was still among the living. No wonder that her faith should be shaken in the reliability of spirit communications.
A near relative of my own had been separated from his wife for many years. A brother of this relative, being a believer in spirit intercourse, and having circles in his house, a spirit communicated professing to be the spirit of the deceased wife of my relative. Various tests were applied, form and features were accurately described, incidents spoken of which were known only to them and the supposed spirit; peculiarities of character were displayed, and names, dates, ages, and places connected with her earthly life were given correctly, and these things were all unknown to the medium through whom they were given. So clear was the evidence of identity, and so deep was the conviction produced, that the person, whose spirit it claimed to be, was really dead, that advice was given to the husband of the supposed deceased person which, had it been followed, would have led to inconvenient consequences. After a little time, and by instituting certain inquiries, the person was found to be living and in no apparent prospect of immediate death.
From the foregoing testimonies it must be evident, even to the dullest understanding, that no person can by any possibility know that they are in communication with their deceased friends, even when the evidence appears to be of the clearest kind. But another thought is worthy of being noticed here, and that is, that persons may be seeking intercourse with their deceased friends for years, and page 29 yet not be able to obtain the slightest communication which even purports to come from them. A gentleman with whom I became acquainted in Melbourne, and who was an ardent believer in spiritism, admitted that for more than ten years he had been seeking for some communication from his deceased friends, but had not received any. Another person in the same city, a lady, lamented that she had been unable to obtain communications from her friends. She had, however, received communications from evil spirits, who had tried to incite her to certain wicked deeds and to make away with her life. A friend of mine in the city of Dunedin, having, in company with his wife, heard much of spirit intercourse, solemnly besought her upon her deathbed, that if there was any truth in the power of the human spirit to return to earth and appear to their friends, that she would return and appear to him. The promise was readily and solemnly given. After her decease, my friend spent hours, night after night, and for whole nights, waiting in his chamber and without light, yearning for some intimation from his departed wife. He walked alone through the solitary roads of the Town Belt at all hours of the night, seeking some sign or token from the departed one, but none ever came. A German friend informed me a few days ago, that in his earlier years, and while residing in Germany, where almost all are believers in ghosts, he found himself unable to credit the commonly received views on the matter. His aged grandmother, who was an undoubting believer in the fact of spirits revisiting the earth, being anxious to convince him of its truth, made a compact with him, that when she died, on the third day after her death, he was to take his flute at two in the afternoon, and play a certain tune under an oak tree which she pointed out to him, and she promised if it were possible that she would appear to him, he promising to be no longer incredulous if she appeared, but reserving his right to remain an unbeliever if she did not appear. Within three months she died, and on the third day and punctually at two o'clock, my friend seated himself beneath the oak tree, and commenced playing the tune selected. His playing continued until long past darkness, but the spirit of the deceased grandmother did not appear. The conclu- page 30 sion to which we are inevitably led by these testimonies is, that it is utterly impossible to identity any spirit, and that no person can possibly be certain that any communication they receive is from a departed friend.
"Those victims numbered thousands. The orthodox world consign such persons as myself to a lake of fire and brimstone. I was in a hell inconceivably worse than this; the goadings of remorse that stung me as I looked upon one after another of these numerous, victims and experienced the agonies which They had suffered, multiplied tenfold, can never be conceived of. My prayer is that no other soul may go down to such a depth, and be compelled to travel up through such hells."
"The necessity was laid upon me to go to each one of these my victims, and labor with them, and it often required a great effort on my part to get them to be willing for me to come to them. When I succeeded, I was compelled to do everything I could to help them, and make amends for the wrongs I had done. It seems easy enough to speak of these things now, but I recall the stern conflict of a proud nature before I could submit to do it; but I have done it all, and each one of these is now a helper to me or to others who need, their assistance . . . .
page 32"I have told you that I was irresistibly impelled to arrange and classify all my life actions. The effects of these were all stamped upon me, as they always are upon every one. The causes, however, I was compelled to search out and have them set before me in all their painful realities. I will only detain you to illustrate the practical workings of a few instances. First, that of the little boy already referred to—one of the companions of my early days"—a weak, little playmate, whom he had beaten and abused and robbed of some little things, as a pocket knife, cake, &c., and from whom he extorted a promise not to tell, under the threat that he would kill him. "I saw clearly now that my unjust and cruel treatment had shortened his days in earth life, and at times I was filled with an intense desire to go to him and ask his forgiveness. I had no difficulty in seeing him, but I could not get to him . . . . . At length, after long suffering and waiting, the time came when we were permitted to meet . . . .I found that I had been the means of keeping him in a greater degree of ignorance, and that it was necessary that I should show to him what wrong I had done to him, and how I had kept him lack in his career. This was a very difficult and embarrassing task for me to accomplish, for there was a strong disposition on my part to let him remain just as he was when I found that he did not blame me. For a long time I was engaged helping him onward in his life's journey . . . so that he might go forward as nearly in the line he would have walked if I had not crossed his path, as it was possible."
"I would say to all earth children, be careful how you injure a brother or sister, for by so doing you will forge a chain that will bind you to them until you have made full restitution to them, and enabled them to stand where they would if you had not thus injured them.
"I was in a hell inconceivably worse than the orthodox lake of fire and brimstone. The goadings of remorse that stung me as I looked upon one after another of my numerous victims and experienced the agonies which they had suffered, multiplied ten-fold, can never be described."—pages 158, 159.
From the testimony of these two spirits, it is clearly part of the theory of spiritism that the injured person does not progress, but sustains the injury until the injurer comes and aids his victim to a higher position. Now, there would be no injustice in the injurer being compelled to undo his wrong; but if there be a just governor of the world, how can we reconcile that fact with this theory that the injured person is, even in the spirit world, to be at the mercy of the injurer, and cannot progress until he is disposed to aid page 33 him. This, surely, does not seem just. But the point we press is, that in tins theory of spiritism there is no comfort to the friends of the departed. Whence can comfort be derived by the friends of injured persons from the above view? Another matter to be noticed is that spiritists often ridicule the teaching of the Scriptures as to a hell, and affirm "there is no hell!" Now here are two spirits, and what is very remarkable, in identically the same language, representing the hell they had suffered as "inconceivably worse than the orthodox hell!" However bad the "orthodox hell" maybe, these spirits had found one "inconceivably worse!" How bad that must have been must be left to the reader to decide, as words would fail to represent it fairly. Those who can derive comfort from the above are certainly blessed with a degree of hopefulness not usually possessed by mortals.
"I next saw a tall, vicious looking woman of about fifty years of age. She was dressed in a spotted calico frock, very common and very dirty. Her hair was gray; her teeth were gone; her eyebrows were heavy, and under them glowed a snaky pair of eyes. She held by one hand a child four or five years old, who was: squalid and ragged, but who seemed to be of a simple, pleasant, and affectionate disposition. The old woman was dragging the child along roughly and healing it with a stick. Its legs, and arms, and breast were scarified."—page 186.
"I was in those darker spheres again. The object that now attracted my attention was a woman and a young child, sitting on a rude bench by the side of a hovel. They were all drawn up in a heap, sitting close to each other as if attracted by a mingled feeling of fear and Jove towards a man who was walking rapidly backward and forward at a little distance from them. . . . They looked very wretched and unhappy: and the man, as he walked back and forth, in front of them, had them constantly on his mind, and was ever a witness of Their misery."
"But the first sensation he had on waking to consciousness in the spirit-world, was their presence, more palpable, more near than ever before; and from the time of his entrance to that world, which was long, long ago, he had never for one moment been exempt from their presence."
"Thus, then, he lived, with no companions but the victims of his evil passions, and no employment for his mind, which on earth had been very active, and was now even more so, but the recollection of his crimes. . . . Once in a while he would look at his victims with a feeling of concentrated hatred as if he would tear them to pieces; but his power over them was gone ... I saw him chafing his hands ... he beat his head with his hands, and threw his arms out . . . and looked for some means of escape. I saw him in utter despair seated on the ground, covering his face with his hands. . . . And as he thus sat, his victims rose and approached him. The woman laid her hand upon his shoulder, and the frightful agony with which he started to his feet at that touch, made one shudder. He resumed his walk more rapidly and wearily. The woman and child returned to their seat, and it seemed from his motions and gestures, that his sufferings and his despair were constantly on the increase."—pp. 346-49.
Here a woman and a young child are the victims of a bad man and are murdered, and in the spirit-land these victims are represented as "very wretched and unhappy" as in "misery," and compelled continually to be with this man of evil passions, although they are not said to have been guilty of any crime. They are represented as being in the "darker spheres—in hell!" Is this not a horrible system that represents a young child and its mother, as being in misery, because they were murdered! What comfort is possible from such a theory as this? Let the reader suppose the parents of a young and blooming maiden giving their daughter away in marriage. The man to whom they give her, they have thought to be upright and honorable; but after marriage, habits develop themselves, and a disposition manifests itself, which they did not expect to see, and which, had they for a moment thought possible, would have led them to rather prefer laying their daughter in a grave, than to give her in marriage. In course of time a little daughter is born; but instead of this leading to amendment of life, on the part of the man, from a sense of increased responsibility, it only makes the hapless mother—the erstwhile blooming maiden and bride—more dependent and the patient victim of ill-usage. The man continues his downward career, and, in a fit of passion, or cold-blooded scheming, he murders his wife and child. Suppose, now, that the parents of that murdered woman are believers in this horrible theory of spiritism, which leads to representations such as the above! they must then believe that their daughter and grandchild are in the darker spheres, "very wretched and unhappy," and in constant "misery;" and that when the unhappy cause of their premature entrance into the spirit-world also comes there, the above narrative gives a fair representation of what will take place, and of what will be the condition of their daughter and her young child. Could the hearts of any parents draw comfort from such a conviction? Yes, if comfort can be produced by a forlorn picture of "wretchedness, unhappiness, and misery;" but not otherwise. We say the claim of spiritism, that it gives comfort to the sorrowing friends of the departed, is a delusion and a snare: that instead of giving comfort, if page 36 the theory be believed, its result must be to produce settled unhappiness and continual regret, as to the condition of the departed.
Quest.—"I understand from the controlling spirit that there is no forgiveness for sin; that an inevitable penalty follows every transgression of any law of our being?"
Ans.—"Returning spirits always inform you—such as have been informed themselves upon this point—that there is no forgiveness of sins. Every sin begets its own judge, and the Judge begets the punishment therefor."—P. 91.
Quest.—"I understand that the controlling spirit has stated that sometimes people can be cleansed from immoralities in a somewhat corresponding manner as diseases are cured. How can such things be without forgiveness?"
Ans.—"Forgiveness is a term which your correspondent seems to have defined according to his own understanding. To us, forgiveness is a something which avails without suffering . . . . . .You will learn, every one of you, sooner or later, that there is no forgiveness of sin, either in this world or the next. . . . . . . If you sin against the law of your own reason there is no forgiveness therefor till you have paid the uttermost farthing for your wrong doing."—Page 93.
Many other quotations might be given to the same effect, but the above are sufficient for our purpose, which is to present the fact that spiritism denies forgiveness, and then illustrate the legitimate results of such a theory. This page 37 theory of "no forgiveness" maybe regarded as a necessary and logical result of another part of the theory of spiritism, which will be treated of further on, viz., "There is no God"—that the only God there is, is "man," or a "vast ocean of magnetism," or "the principle which permeates all nature," and which is called the "soul" of the universe, or the "Father God," of which "nature" is the body or "mother God." If there be no intelligent, personal mind presiding over the affairs of the universe, but only blind force operating through inviolable laws, then we can understand how there can be no forgiveness, but this view will make the language which some spiritualists are so fond of using to be simply nonsense. If the only God be blind force, then how can such a power be addressed as "our kind, loving, merciful, and compassionate Father and God?" Such language necessarily requires that there should be a personal, conscious, and intelligent deity, who may be regarded as in some way susceptible to emotions of love, &c., analogous to those which human beings are affected by; but if God be but a "force," then such language is altogether out of place and is unmeaning. How can there be mercy, and yet no forgiveness? Surely words get strangely confused in the mouth of a spiritist! If, however, the deity be a personal, conscious, and all-pervading mind whose offspring we are, reasoning from the analogies of human life—and which is legitimate—just as the father forgives his child upon repentance and confession, so God, our great Father, may be expected to forgive His offspring. There is of course a disparity between the heavenly and the earthly parent. The earthly parent is himself frail and needs forgiveness, and that fact of need demands that he himself should forgive if he hope to be forgiven. The heavenly Father is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity. He is the infinitely holy and just God, and is the Governor of the universe. In pardoning sin it was needful that the requirements of justice should be met, and in the Gospel all this has been done. The only point sought to be made and enforced is, that if there be a God of mercy and love who governs, then forgiveness must not only be a possibility but an actual fact.
But we take the affirmation of spirits and spiritualists page 38 that there is no forgiveness of sin. Let us now look abroad at society as at present constituted. Is there one person who lives without sin? Is there one person who may not have injured others, either intentionally or unintentionally? The statement of the spirit above given was, that for every sin the utmost of the penalty, even to the "uttermost farthing," must be paid. Now, if there is no person who has not sinned, and if the penalty must be paid by each, and if that penalty begins, as is affirmed, immediately upon the spirit's entrance into spirit life, it follows as a logical necessity, from which there is no possible escape, that every conscious human being, on passing into the spirit-world, passes into a condition of misery and suffering; and that if they were able to come back and inform their friends of their state, if the account given were truthful, it would be of great anguish and suffering. Where, then, is the comfort which could arise to the friends of the departed from this system? And, it must be remembered, that in the supposition of character above given, we have taken the very best portion of society whose offences will, for the most part, have been of an unintentional kind.
But, now, take the class of society lower in the scale;. consider their condition. Just conceive of the untruths told, the acts of theft and dishonesty in trade and otherwise, the unkind and hurtful things both said and done of individuals and character, the legalised frauds, butcheries—called wars, &e., the oppressions of tyrants, murders, seductions, &c., &c. On the principle of there being "no forgiveness," what must be the condition of the persons who have inflicted these wrongs? Who can describe the fearful, the excruciating agonies, and mental torments which, on the principle of spiritism, these persons must be undergoing? But, as we have shown above, it is not only the injurer who suffers, but his victim also, and that suffering and non-progression must continue until the injurer is so minded as to aid them to rise. It is, then, the fact, that on the principle of spiritism, the unseen world must be one universal scene of suffering, mental and physical, from which there is no escape, and which is endured, in large part at least, by the injured as well as the injurer.
page 39"In front of the houses I saw two men fighting. Out of its window a man was looking and laughing at the affray. It was a dirty-looking hovel, and all around it was foul, neglected, and in confusion. How cruel that fight was! They were a large and a small man who were engaged. The larger held the smaller one fast and beat him in the face with his fists, long after he ceased to resist. Some of the passers-by regarded the scene with indifference, while some enjoyed it, and applauded and encouraged the larger one to keep on."—Page 181.
"At the door of one of the hovels that stood a little back from the road, I saw a female who seemed to be about twenty-six years old. She was round and full in appearance—was a dark brunette with painted cheeks. Her whole appearance, garb, and manner were meretricious, and she had taken up her position there to entice some one to enter the dwelling.
"At length a man in passing turned aside, under the influence of passions which had marked his earthly career, and with her entered her house. I saw they were both influenced by the same passions, but were incapable of gratifying them. The woman became furious. She raved wildly, and in her insensate rage she dashed the things around her to pieces. The man enjoyed her anger, and she raged at him for laughing at her. She seized a chair and aimed a blow at him. He evaded it, and with his fist page 40 knocked her down. He struck her in the neck just below the chin, and when she fell, he gnashed his teeth in rage, and stamped with his foot on her breast. He kicked her in the side several times, and rushed from the house"—Ibid, page 182.
"After awhile she arose from the floor and seated herself on the side of a bed. As she sat moaning, she deeply felt her misery. What awful torment she suffered while thus alone she brooded o'er her wrongs! Worse by far she felt than the hell she had heard of while on earth, and she was persuaded there was no end to it. Ask her and she would say that hell was eternal."—Ibid. p. 183.
"Soon I came to a small collection of people who were acting the scene of hanging a man on the gallows. There was the scaffold, which had fallen, and a man was hanging by the neck in the death struggle. His eyes protruded; his tongue was thrust out of his mouth, his face was flushed; he struggled and writhed, but he could not die. No welcome death could come to put an end to his misery. No voice of pity nor murmur of compassion arose to greet his ear, but only shouts and laughter, rendered louder and more furious, the more severely he struggled and suffered, and accompanied by the beating of a drum—for they had made quite a military parade of it—and the gallows was surrounded by many in grotesque military uniforms, and armed with sticks and broom-handles. . . . . .
"Next I saw a party who were burning a man at the stake. He was fastened to the stake by cords so tight that he could not move a limb, and thus they roasted him by a slow fire.
"Then I saw enacted a scene with which the history of the Inquisition has rendered us familiar. A man was undergoing the torture. There were only two or three persons around him, as if there was some exclusiveness in this enjoyment. His leg was in an iron ease, and wedges were driven in to crush the bone and flesh together. How well they did enjoy it! how expert they were! and how they gloated over his yells of agony! It was to them a repetition of an earthly pleasure."—Ibid, pages 185, 186.
"I now approached one of those black spots, and there, in a miserable hovel, was a human being. He was ghastly thin, haggard, almost a skeleton. He knew no means of escape from that dark habitation, where he was all alone. The most violent of page 41 human passions were raging in him, and he was ever walking back and forth, like a chained tiger chafing in his cage.
"If you could have seen the agony that was painted on his face, the despair and hatred that spoke in every lineament, the desperate passion that swelled every muscle, and the horrible fear that stole over him of what further or worse might ensue from his daring defiance of his God, you would have shuddered and recoiled from the sight; and what aggravated all this suffering was his ignorance that there was any redemption for him, and the belief that it was forever!
"They have taken me to the darker spheres. There I see countless numbers of spirits, of various hues of blackness, amid that dark and murky atmosphere, so dark and thick that it would seem almost palpable to my senses.
"There is a restlessness about those inhabitants that is terrible to behold, for it speaks of the worm that never dies, it tells in language not to be mistaken, that its gnawings are incessant, that its torments never cease. That worm is memory, and with all who people that immense desert, it is ever busy in discharging its duty as a minister of the Most High God, ever active in the performance of its terrible task of retribution. Like a hissing serpent, it is ever following the heels of those whose past was evil.
"It needs the aid of no material flame to infuse suffering into the heart. It needs no chains of earthly iron to bind the fallen soul to the dark soil in which it grovels. It needs no galling fetters to have it iron enter that soul; but, alone, unconquerable, unceasing, ever active, from its blasting embrace there is no escape, from its devastating breath there is no refuge."—pp. 424, 425.
"At fifty years of age I was launched into eternity, and the first that met my gaze were friends I had left on earth whom I had hoped never to meet again. I was taken with despair and remorse of conscience. I was amazed. I looked upon myself—enough! for the serpent was stinging me. I was clothed in the human form. What! was I not dead? Had not I gone? Was I in a frenzy? Was it imagination? I know not how long I thus mused, when I was conducted to the earth. I looked and saw a form clothed with rags and vermin. I looked and saw I was living, and seemed to have a body still, and in anguish I cried, 'Oh, is there no death or grave' I am, then, with my kind again; but I see no plain to retire to from all around me,' for I was surrounded by adders in human form, and oh, what a hell! Your imaginations could not picture such a hell."—p. 443.
The reader will see from the foregoing quotations that this matter has not been overdrawn: that it has simply been represented in the language suggested by spiritualist writers themselves. We are again led to ask, Where is the comfort which this system gives? We have seen that there can be no possible certainty as to the identification of spirits, even upon the admission of spiritist writers themselves: that spirits are deceivers and liars, and can, and do, personate the friends of the departed, and so read the mind, as to be able to give such resemblance to genuine identification, as to deceive even the most wary; and that even could friends be identified, the theory of "no forgiveness," taught by spirits and spiritists, is fraught with such terrible consequences, that even were identification possible and certain, must take away all comforting assurance, as the condition of the spirit must be one of unhappiness. We therefore pass this claim as unworthy of the slightest confidence.