Legend
< Evenings with Indwellers of the World of Spirits (continued from page 8-331) >
more uneasiness and anxiety than their inflictions or my doom—I was so fearful they should have the power I was so soon to lose.
“I was to be burned, and the night before it was customary to allow the prisoners the indulgence of a bod and a meal. Imagine my joy at that hour when my mattress was brought back. I picked out my book and concealed it in my dress until the last moment came, and then, with despairing energy, when that was no longer of avail, I clasped it in my hands and determined that it should be burned with me. I thought not so much of myself as of that, and I went to the stake as firm, perhaps, as the frailty of the flesh would allow a mortal to do. Many of us were burned, and to this circumstance, or to those again interposing who were not of earth, I must owe the preservation of my book from the sight, up to this time, of the officials around me. It was not until a moment or two before my execution that they attempted to grasp it. The chains that they had put on my hands I had bound round my book, and I held it as tight as the will of a man nerved by death can, and I hurried quickly into the very flames to get it out of their reach; I succeeded, and I saw it in flames when only the soles of my feet were scorched. As the flames went on consuming me my senses left, delirium came on, and I believed that I raved, My passing from life into immortality—from time into eternity—was certainly a fearful one. When my spirit was released, and I was again whole as I am now—when I started into being, the same as life, yet how changed—I found my book with me, and myself surrounded by those who had so often been my companions on earth.”
Just as I was about to be interrupted, the monk said:
“I will continue it with your permission when you have more time.”
2 p.m.—Action ended and the monk left.
18th Jan., 1857.
2.15 p.m.
Called the monk, and the seeress instantly remarked, “He is here as before.”
“I was burnt in 1693, in the summer, and I have not now progressed beyond the state I then found myself in. I had mistaken the appearance of the spirits that came to me upon earth. I had given myself up to their guidance without inquiring to what order they belonged, and I found, when it was too late, that I had been encouraging and communing with the planetary spirits, and not with those who can direct and counsel. I believed from the information I received—information from those who visited me—that the planets were the abode of men after death: that they formed the different degrees and modes of happiness, that some were evil and some good, and that the greatest felicity was enjoyed by those who were allowed to enter the sun. They never said one word to me of the spheres. I did not know that there was a short and direct mode by which I could obtain truth and profit by it everlastingly. I know now that I had the power of exercising and dispelling them if they were not what they represented themselves to be, the only spirits of the universe.
“I know now that I might have inquired of them, and that they would have been bound to answer me rightly; but while receiving them, and trusting implicitly to them, I lost sight of the Being who could alone rule them, and of the name by which, were they falsehood itself in their nature, they would be defeated and subdued. This was caused by my connection with the Catholic religion. I no more believed the doctrines I professed, the sanctity of vows that I took, than I did in my competency to give absolution for money, or my efficiency in obtaining the intercession of saints that I ridiculed.
“I was soon after death aware of my sin, and had a consciousness of all my offences, with a knowledge of the right, and a desire' to obtain it, and through it peace and rest. I have remained as I died, and I am told that it is to the mercy of the Providence that I blasphemed upon earth I owe even this my present position, sorrowful and earth-bound as it is. They tell me that my sufferings on earth, and my death by the hands of another, prevented me from living a sufficient time to be repentant, even if I had been convinced of my errors—that such a conviction might have come before my natural life had closed, when the Giver of it alone thought fit, and, therefore, the punishment that I might have expected with justice, had I died a natural death, was transmitted to those who caused my death; that they, when they deprived me of life, took upon themselves the whole burthen of my spirit and made me neutral, neither receiving increased happiness nor any punishment, save my own conscience, and as I sinned through error in my intercourse with spirits I am not punished for that, because I believed them to be the highest. Those for whom I mistook them look upon me with pleasure and with pity, and they do all that is possible to keep me from falling a step lower. By their aid I shall be able to rise gradually to a better state of existence. But there is one thing that I want out of my possession, that I want to see back in reality upon earth before I can rest—the book that I have treasured at all times more than my life; and at the last, when I am well aware that my thoughts should have been directed to a far different subject, it was my only aim to take it with me, and if I could not do that, to keep it from those who destroyed me.
“From that time to this I have incessantly wandered about trying to bring that book back into form before I lose sight of the earth. My only wish is to see it in material form as it was then, that the secrets which caused me such trouble to collect should not be lost when I was dead even to memory. I have tried to show it to men. So wild have been my endeavours that I have even presented it to them while asleep. They have dreamed of it, and I—oh, how hard have I tried to make it intelligible to them when waking has dispelled the illusion from their minds. I have sought other modes. I have tried to present it through writing mediums, but they have other spirits that, low as I am, I would not dare to mingle with or be near, for I shun their presence with as much abhorrence as I look with pleasure to the light which comes from those I trust may help me. They assure me that the more free I can keep my mind from the thoughts of earth, from the memory of the past, and turn them to things above me, the readier I may hope for assistance.”
The monk here paused, and, mentioning to him some similar cases from Jung Stilling’s Theory of Pneumatology, I earnestly exhorted, him to pray for assistance and pardon. He replied:
“But I cannot pray sufficiently for him to do so. More, I must show with my whole being that I am changed in turning my thoughts from earth to heaven. I must ask with humility by my actions as well as by my voice for His grace.”
I explained that although my time was fully occupied, yet, having received my G.S.’s permission, I would receive his book as often as possible, and, placing the title my seeress had copied, I asked if he could see it, and if the characters were correct.
“The figures are the same; the spiritual characters are the same.
“It is the talisman of the sun, as I thought when I <... continues on page 8-333 >