I know not how long this lasted; it seemed a long, long time to me. I was sitting wrapped still in my despair when I heard a voice gentle and soft calling to me--the voice of my beloved--and I felt compelled to rise and follow that voice till it should lead me to her; and as I rose to go the thread which had so bound me seemed to stretch and stretch till I scarce felt its pressure, and I was drawn on and on till at last I found myself in a room which, I could dimly see, even in the darkness that always surrounded me, was familiar to my eyes. It was the home of my beloved one, and in that room I had passed, ah! how many peaceful happy hours in that time which seemed now separated from me by so wide and awful a gulf. She sat at a little table with a sheet of paper before her and a pencil in her hand. She kept repeating my name and saying: "Dearest of friends, if the dead ever return, come back to me, and try if you can make me write a few words from you, even 'yes' or 'no' in answer to my questions."
I don't know how long this lasted; it felt like an eternity. I was still wrapped in despair when I heard a gentle, soft voice calling me—my beloved's voice. I felt compelled to rise and follow it until it led me to her. As I stood, the thread that had bound me seemed to stretch endlessly, its pressure barely noticeable. I was drawn onward until I found myself in a dimly lit, familiar room. It was my beloved's home, where I had spent countless peaceful, happy hours in what now seemed like a distant past, separated by an immense, terrifying gulf. She sat at a small table with paper and pencil, repeatedly calling my name and saying, "Dearest friend, if the dead can return, come back to me. Try to make me write even a simple 'yes' or 'no' to answer my questions." For the first time since my death, I saw a faint smile on her lips and a glimmer of hope in her eyes, which were still heavy from crying over me. Her dear face looked so pale and sad with grief. I felt—oh, how I felt—the sweetness of her love, which now, more than ever, I dared not hope to claim.
For the first time since I had died I saw her with a faint smile upon her lips and a look of hope and expectation in those dear eyes that were so heavy with weeping for me. The dear face looked so pale and sad with her grief and I felt--ah! how I felt--the sweetness of the love she had given me, and which now less than ever dare I hope to claim.
I recoiled, sensing their awareness of me, and attempted to conceal my disfigured face and body with my dark cloak. Then, my pride stirred, and I thought: "Didn't she summon me herself? I've come, so shouldn't she be the one to decide my fate? Is it truly irreversible? Can nothing I do—no amount of remorse, repentance, great deeds, or hard work—change it? Is there really no hope beyond death?"
Then I saw three other forms beside her, but they I knew were spirits, yet how unlike myself. These spirits were bright, radiant, so that I could not bear to look at them; the sight seemed to scorch my eyes as with a fire. One was a man, tall, calm, dignified-looking, who bent over her to protect her as her guardian angel might. Beside him stood two fair young men whom I knew at once to be those brothers whom she had so often spoken of to me. They had died when youth with all its pleasures was before them, and their memories were shrined in her heart as those who were now angels. I shrank back, for I felt they saw me, and I sought to cover my disfigured face and form with the dark mantle which I wore. Then my pride awoke, and I said: "Has not she herself called me? I have come, and shall not she be the arbiter of my destiny? Is it so irrevocable that nothing I can do, no sorrow, no repentance however deep, no deeds however great, no work however hard, can reverse it? Is there indeed no hope beyond the grave?"
I saw three luminous figures beside her, clearly spirits unlike myself. Their radiance was so intense I could hardly look at them without feeling a searing pain in my eyes. One was a tall, composed man with a dignified air, hovering protectively over her like a guardian angel. Next to him stood two handsome young men, whom I instantly recognized as the brothers she had often mentioned to me. They had died in the prime of their youth, their memories forever cherished in her heart as angels.
And a voice, the voice I had heard before at my own grave, answered me: "Son of grief, is there no hope on earth for those who sin? Does not even man forgive the sinner who has wronged him if the sin be repented of and pardon sought? And shall God be less merciful, less just? Hast thou repentance even now? Search thine own heart and see whether it is for thyself or for those thou hast wronged that thou art sorry?"
A familiar voice, the same one I'd heard at my grave, replied: "Child of sorrow, is there no hope for sinners on Earth? Don't even humans forgive those who wrong them if they truly repent and seek forgiveness? Wouldn't God be even more merciful and just? Do you feel remorse even now? Look deep within yourself and determine whether you're sorry for your own sake or for those you've harmed."
And I knew as he spoke that I did not truly repent. I only suffered. I only loved and longed. then again my beloved spoke and asked me, if I were there and could hear her, to try and write one word through her hand that she might know I still lived, still thought of her.
As he spoke, I realized I wasn't truly remorseful. I was only in pain, consumed by love and longing. Then my beloved spoke again, asking if I was present and could hear her. She requested that I try to write a single word through her hand, just so she could know I was still alive and thinking of her.
My heart seemed to rise into my throat and choke me, and I drew near to try if I could move her hand, could touch it even. But the tall spirit came between us, and I was forced to draw back. Then he spoke and said: "Give your words to me and I will cause her hand to write them down for you. I will do this for her sake, and because of the love she has for you."
My heart leapt into my throat, nearly choking me. I approached, hoping to touch her hand, to make even the slightest contact. But the towering spirit intercepted me, forcing me to retreat. Then it spoke: "Tell me your message, and I'll guide her hand to write it down for you. I'll do this for her sake, and because of her love for you."
A great wave of joy swept over me at his words, and I would have taken his hand and kissed it but could not. My hand seemed scorched by his brightness ere I could touch him, and I bowed myself before him for I thought he must be one of the angels.
An overwhelming sense of joy washed over me at his words. I wanted to take his hand and kiss it, but I couldn't. His radiance was so intense that my hand felt burned before I could even touch him. I bowed before him, believing he must be an angel.
My beloved spoke once more and said: "Are you here, dearest friend?"
My love spoke again and asked, "Are you there, my dear?"
I answered, "Yes," and then I saw the spirit put his hand on her, and when he did so her hand wrote the word "yes." Slowly and unsteadily it moved, like a child's learning to write. Ah! how she smiled, and again she asked me a question, and as before her own hand traced out my answer. She asked me if there were anything she could do for me, any wish of mine that she could help me to carry out? I said: "No! not now. I would go away now and torment her no more with my presence. I would let her forget me now."
I replied, "Yes," and then I saw the spirit place its hand on hers. As it did so, her hand wrote "yes." The writing was slow and shaky, like a child learning to write. Oh, how she smiled! She asked me another question, and again her own hand wrote out my answer. She inquired if there was anything she could do for me, any wish of mine she could help fulfill. I said, "No, not now. I'll leave and trouble you no more with my presence. I'll let you forget me now."
My heart was so sore as I spoke, so bitter; and ah! how sweet to me was her reply, how it touched my soul to hear her say: "Do not say that to me, for I would ever be your truest, dearest friend, as I was in the past, and since you died my one thought has been to find you and to speak with you again."
As I spoke, my heart ached with bitterness. But her response was so sweet, touching my very soul. She said, "Please don't say that. I'll always be your closest, most loyal friend, just as I was before. Since you passed away, my only goal has been to find you and talk to you again."
And I answered, I called out to her, "It has been my only wish also."
I called back to her, "That's been my only wish too."
She then asked if I would come again, and I said "Yes!" For where would I not have gone for her? What would I not have done? Then the bright spirit said she must write no more that night. He made her hand write that also and said she should go to rest.
She asked if I'd come back, and I eagerly agreed. For her, I would have gone anywhere and done anything. Then the bright spirit said she needed to stop writing for the night. He made her write that down too and told her to get some rest.
I felt myself now drawn away once more back to my grave and to my earthly body in that dark churchyard; but not to the same hopeless sense of misery. In spite of everything a spark of hope had risen in my heart, and I knew I should see and speak with her again.
I felt myself being pulled back to my grave and physical body in that gloomy cemetery. This time, however, I wasn't overcome by despair. Despite everything, a glimmer of hope had emerged within me, and I knew I would see and talk to her again.
But now I found I was not alone there. Those two spirits who were her brothers had followed me, and now spoke. I shall not state all they said. Suffice it to say they pointed out to me how wide was now the gulf between their sister and myself, and asked me if I desired to shadow all her young life with my dark presence. If I left her now, she would, in time, forget me, except as one who had been a dear friend to her. She could always think tenderly of my memory, and surely if I loved her truly I would not wish to make all her young life lonely and desolate for my sake.
I suddenly realized I wasn't alone. The two spirits of her brothers had followed me and began to speak. I won't repeat everything they said, but they made it clear how vast the divide between their sister and me had become. They asked if I truly wanted to cast a shadow over her young life with my dark presence. They argued that if I left her now, she would eventually forget me, remembering me only as a dear friend. They suggested that if I truly loved her, I wouldn't want to condemn her to a lonely and desolate existence for my sake.
I replied that I loved her, and could never bear to leave her, never bear to think of any other, loving her as I had done.
I told her I loved her and couldn't imagine ever leaving her or being with anyone else. My love for her was too strong.
Then they spoke of myself and my past, and asked if I dared to think of linking myself with her pure life, even in the misty fashion in which I still hoped to do? How could I hope that when she died I should meet her? She belonged to a bright sphere to which I could not hope for a long time to rise, and would it not be better for her, and nobler, more truly loving of me, to leave her to forget me and to find what happiness in life could yet be given to her, rather than seek to keep alive a love that could only bring her sorrow?
Then they discussed my past and questioned whether I had the right to connect myself to her virtuous life, even in the vague way I still hoped to. How could I expect to meet her after death? She belonged to a higher realm that I couldn't hope to reach for a long time. Wouldn't it be better for her, and more noble and loving of me, to let her forget me and find whatever happiness life could still offer her, rather than trying to keep alive a love that would only bring her sadness?
I said faintly I thought she loved me. They said: "Yes, she loves you as she herself has idealized your image in her mind, and as she in her innocence has painted your picture. Do you think if she knew all your story she would love you? Would she not shrink back in horror from you? Tell her the truth, give her the choice of freedom from your presence, and you will have acted a nobler part and shown a truer love than in deceiving her and seeking to tie her to a being like yourself. If you truly love her, think of her and her happiness, and what will bring it--not of yourself alone."
I weakly suggested that I believed she loved me. They replied, "Yes, she loves an idealized version of you that she's created in her mind. Do you honestly think she'd still love you if she knew your entire history? Wouldn't she recoil in disgust? Be truthful with her. Give her the option to walk away from you. That would be a more honorable act and demonstrate a purer love than deceiving her and trying to bind her to someone like yourself. If you truly love her, prioritize her happiness over your own desires."
Then the hope within me died out, and I bowed my head to the dust in shame and agony, for I knew that I was vile and in no way fit for her, and I saw as in a glass what her life might still be freed from mine. She might know happiness yet with another more worthy than I had been, while with my love I would only drag her down into sadness with me. For the first time in my life I put the happiness of another before my own, and because I so loved her and would have had her happy, I said to them: "Let it be so, then. Tell her the truth, and let her say but one kind word to me in farewell, and I will go from her and darken her life with the shadow of mine no more."
The hope within me faded, and I lowered my head in shame and anguish. I realized I was unworthy of her, and I could see clearly how her life might flourish without me. She could still find happiness with someone more deserving, while my love would only bring her sorrow. For the first time, I prioritized another's happiness over my own. Because I loved her so deeply and wanted her to be happy, I told them, "So be it. Tell her the truth, and let her say just one kind word to me in farewell. Then I'll leave her and no longer darken her life with my presence."
So we went back to her, and I saw her as she slept exhausted with her sorrow for me. I pleaded that they would let me give her one kiss, the first and last that I would ever give. But they said no, that was impossible, for my touch would snap forever the thread that held her still to life.
We returned to her, and I saw her sleeping, worn out from grieving for me. I begged them to let me kiss her just once—the first and last kiss I'd ever give. But they refused, saying it was impossible. They warned that my touch would instantly break the fragile connection keeping her alive.
Then they awoke her and made her write down their words, while I stood by and heard each word fall as a nail in the coffin where they were burying my last hope forever. She, as one in a dream, wrote on, till at last the whole shameful story of my life was told, and I had but to tell her myself that all was forever at an end between us, and she was free from my sinful presence and my selfish love. I said adieu to her. As drops of blood wrung from my heart were those words, and as ice they fell upon her heart and crushed it. Then I turned and left her--how, I know not--but as I went I felt the cord that had tied me to my grave and my earthly body snap, and I was free--free to wander where I would--alone in my desolation!
They woke her and made her write down their words. I stood by, hearing each word fall like a nail in the coffin of my last hope. As if in a trance, she wrote until the entire shameful story of my life was revealed. I had no choice but to tell her myself that everything between us was over, freeing her from my sinful presence and selfish love. I said goodbye. Those words felt like drops of blood squeezed from my heart, and they fell like ice upon hers, crushing it. Then I turned and left—I don't know how—but as I went, I felt the cord tying me to my grave and earthly body snap. I was free to wander where I wished, alone in my despair.
And then? Ah, me! While I write the words the tears of thankfulness are in my eyes again, and I almost break down in trying to write them; then she whom we had deemed so weak and gentle that we had but to decide for her, she called me back with all the force of a love none dare oppose--called me back to her. She said she could never give me up so long as I had love for her. "Let your past be what it might; let you be sunk now even to the lowest depths of hell itself, I will still love you, still seek to follow you and claim my right--the right of my love--to help and comfort and cherish you till God in his mercy shall have pardoned your past and you shall be raised up again." And then it was that I broke down and wept as only a strong proud man can weep, whose heart has been wrung and bruised and hardened, and then touched by the soft tender touch of a loving hand till the tears must come to his relief.
And then? Oh my! As I write these words, tears of gratitude fill my eyes again, and I almost break down trying to continue. She, whom we had thought so weak and gentle that we could simply decide for her, called me back with all the force of a love that no one dared oppose. She called me back to her. She said she could never give me up as long as I loved her. "No matter what your past might be, even if you were now in the lowest depths of hell itself, I will still love you. I'll still try to follow you and claim my right—the right of my love—to help, comfort, and cherish you until God in his mercy pardons your past and raises you up again." It was then that I broke down and wept as only a strong, proud man can—a man whose heart has been wrung, bruised, and hardened, then touched by the soft, tender hand of love until tears must come as relief.
I went back to my love and knelt down beside her, and though they would not let me touch her, that calm beautiful spirit who was her guardian whispered to her that her prayer was answered, and that she should indeed lead me back to the light. And so I left my darling, and as I passed away I saw a white angel's form hover over her to give her strength and comfort, who was herself my angel of light. I left her thus with those spirits, and went forth to wander till her voice should call me to her side again.
I returned to my beloved and knelt beside her. Although I wasn't allowed to touch her, her serene and beautiful guardian spirit whispered to her that her prayer had been answered. She would indeed guide me back to the light. As I left my darling, I saw a white angelic figure hovering over her, providing strength and comfort. This angel was my own beacon of hope. I departed, leaving her with those spirits, and set out to wander until her voice would summon me to her side once more.
After the short troubled sleep into which those bright spirits had put her, my darling awoke the next day, and went to visit a kind good man whom she had discovered in her efforts to find some way by which she might reach me even beyond the grave.
After a restless night filled with vivid dreams, my beloved woke up the next morning. She went to see a compassionate and wise individual she had found during her search for a way to connect with me, even after death.
If it might be that what she had been told about those people who were called Spiritualists was really true, she hoped through their aid to speak again with me, and prompted by those who were watching over her, she had searched out this man who was known as a healing medium, and by him she had been told that if she herself tried, she could write messages from the so-called dead.
If what she'd heard about Spiritualists was true, she hoped they could help her communicate with me again. Guided by those watching over her, she sought out a man known as a healing medium. He told her that if she tried, she could write messages from the supposed dead herself.
This I did not learn till later. At the time I only felt myself summoned by the voice of her whose power over me was so great, and in obedience to it I found myself standing in what I could dimly distinguish to be a small room. I say dimly, because all was still dark to me save only where the light around my darling shone as a star and showed faintly what was near.
I didn't learn this until later. At the time, I only felt called by the voice of the woman who held such power over me. Obeying her summons, I found myself in what seemed to be a small room. I say "seemed" because everything was dark to me except for the light surrounding my beloved, which shone like a star and faintly illuminated nearby objects.
It was to this good man of whom I speak that she had gone, and it was her voice speaking to him that had drawn me. She was telling him what had passed the night before, and how much she loved me, and how she would gladly give all her life if by so doing she could comfort and help me. And that man spoke such kind words to her--from my heart I thanked and still thank him for them. He gave me so much hope. He pointed out to my dear love that the ties of the earth body are broken at its death, and I was free to love her and she was free to return that love--that she herself better than any other could in truth help to raise me, for her love would give me comfort and hope as nothing else would do, and would cheer my path of repentant effort. And she had now the best of rights to give it, my love for her had been so pure and true a passion, while hers for me was stronger than death itself, since it had overcome the barrier of death. He was so kind, this man--he helped me to speak to her, and to explain many things as I could not have done the night before when my heart was so sore and full of pride. He helped me to tell what of excuse there had been for me in the past, though I owned that nothing can truly excuse our sins. He let me tell her that in spite of all the wrong of my past she had been to me as one sacred--loved with a love I had given to none but herself. He soothed and strengthened her with a kindness for which I blessed him even more than for his help to myself, and when she left him at last I, too, went with her to her home, the light of hope in both our hearts.
The compassionate man she had sought out was the one whose voice had drawn me. She was recounting to him the events of the previous night, expressing her deep love for me and her willingness to sacrifice everything to comfort and support me. His words to her were incredibly kind, and I remain grateful for them. He gave me so much hope. He explained to my beloved that death breaks the physical bonds, freeing us to love each other. He emphasized that she, more than anyone, could truly help uplift me, as her love would provide unparalleled comfort and hope, encouraging my path of repentance. He assured her that she had every right to offer this love, as my feelings for her had been pure and genuine, while hers for me had proven stronger than death itself by overcoming its barrier. This man's kindness extended to helping me communicate with her, allowing me to explain things I couldn't the night before when I was overwhelmed with sorrow and pride. He enabled me to share the context of my past actions, though I acknowledged that nothing truly excuses our sins. I was able to tell her that despite my wrongdoings, she had always been sacred to me, loved uniquely and completely. His gentle support for her touched me even more than his help to me. When she finally left him, I accompanied her home, both our hearts filled with newfound hope.
And when we got there I found that a fresh barrier was raised up by those two spirit brothers and others to whom she was dear; an invisible wall surrounded her through which I could not pass, and though I might follow her about I could not get very near. Then I said to myself that I would go back to the kind man and see if he would help me.
When we arrived, I discovered a new obstacle created by those two spirit brothers and others who cared for her. An invisible barrier encircled her, preventing me from getting close. Although I could follow her movements, I couldn't approach her. I decided to return to the kind man to see if he would help me.
My wish seemed to carry me back, for I soon found myself there again. He was at once conscious of my presence, and strange as it may seem, I found that he could understand much, although not all, that I said to him. He gathered the sense of what I wanted to say, and told me many things I shall not set down here since they concerned only myself. He assured me that if I were only patient all would be well in time, and though the relations might build their spiritual wall around my love, her will would at all times draw me through it to her, and nothing could shut out her love from me; no walls could keep that back. If I would seek now to learn the things of the spirit, and work to advance myself, the gulf between us would disappear. Comforted I left him and wandered away again, I knew not where.
My wish transported me back, and I found myself there once more. He immediately sensed my presence, and remarkably, I discovered he could understand much of what I said, though not everything. He grasped the essence of my message and shared many personal insights I won't disclose here. He reassured me that with patience, everything would eventually work out. Even if her family erected spiritual barriers around my love, her will would always draw me to her, and nothing could block her love for me. He advised that if I focused on learning spiritual matters and improving myself, the gap between us would vanish. Feeling consoled, I left him and drifted away aimlessly.
I was now beginning to be dimly conscious that there were other beings like myself flitting about near me in the darkness, though I could scarce see them. I was so lost and lonely that I thought of going back to my grave again, as it was the spot most familiar to me, and my thought seemed to take me back, for soon I was there once more.
I started to vaguely sense other beings like me moving around nearby in the darkness, though I could barely see them. Feeling lost and alone, I considered returning to my grave, as it was the place I knew best. This thought seemed to transport me, and soon I found myself back there once more.
The flowers that my love had brought me were faded now. She had not been there for two days; since speaking to me she seemed to forget the body that was laid away in the earth, and this to me was well, and I would have had it so. It was well for her to forget the dead body and think only of the living spirit.
The flowers my love had given me were now wilted. She hadn't visited in two days; since our conversation, she seemed to have moved past the body buried in the ground. I was glad for this and wouldn't have wanted it any other way. It was good for her to let go of the physical remains and focus on the enduring spirit.
Even these withered flowers spoke of her love, and I tried to pick up one, a white rose, to carry away with me. I found I could not lift it, could not move it in the least. My hand passed through it as though it was but the reflection of a rose.
Even these faded flowers symbolized her love. I reached for a white rose, hoping to take it with me as a keepsake. To my surprise, I couldn't lift or move it at all. My hand passed right through it, as if it were merely a rose's reflection.
I moved round to where there was a white marble cross at the head of the grave, and I saw there the names of my beloved one's two brothers. Then I knew what she had done in her love for me; she had laid my body to rest beside those she had loved best of all. My heart was so touched that again I wept, and my tears fell like dew upon my heart and melted away its bitterness.
I walked over to the white marble cross at the head of the grave and saw the names of my beloved's two brothers inscribed there. In that moment, I understood what she had done out of love for me: she had laid my body to rest beside those she cherished most. This realization touched me so deeply that I wept once more. My tears fell like dew upon my heart, melting away its bitterness.
I was so lonely that at last I rose and wandered away again amongst other dark wandering shapes, few of whom even turned to look at me; perhaps like myself they scarcely saw. Presently, however, three dark forms which seemed like two women and a man passed near me, and then turned and followed. The man touched my arm and said: "Where are you bound for? Surely you are newly come over to this side, or you would not hurry on so; none hurry here because we all know we have eternity to wander in." Then he laughed a laugh so cold and harsh in tone it made me shudder. One of the women took my arm on one side and one on the other, saying: "Come away with us and we will show you how you may enjoy life even though you are dead! If we have not got bodies to enjoy ourselves through we will borrow them from some mortals for a little. Come with us and we will show you that all pleasure is not ended yet."
I felt so alone that I eventually got up and wandered among other shadowy figures, most of whom barely noticed me—perhaps they were as blind as I felt. Soon, three dark shapes resembling two women and a man passed by, then turned to follow me. The man touched my arm and said, "Where are you going? You must be new here, or you wouldn't be rushing around. No one hurries here because we all know we have eternity to wander." He then laughed, a sound so cold and harsh it made me shudder. The women took my arms, one on each side, saying, "Come with us. We'll show you how to enjoy life even in death! If we don't have bodies to experience pleasure, we'll borrow them from the living for a while. Come on, we'll prove that not all pleasure has ended."
In my loneliness I was glad to have some being to speak to, that although they were all three most repulsive looking--the women to my mind even more so than the man--I felt inclined to let them lead me away and see what would happen, and I had even turned to accompany them when afar off in the dim distance, like a picture traced in light on a black sky, I saw the spirit form of my pure sweet love. Her eyes were closed as I had seen her in my first vision, but as before her hands were stretched out to me and her voice fell like a voice from heaven on my ears, saying: "Oh! take care! take care! go not with them; they are not good, and their road leads only to destruction." Then the vision was gone, and as one waking from a dream I shook those three persons from me and hurried away again in the darkness. How long and how far I wandered I know not. I kept hurrying on to get away from the memories that haunted me and I seemed to have all space to wander in.
In my solitude, I welcomed any company, even though these three individuals were quite unsightly—the women even more so than the man. I felt compelled to follow them, curious about what might unfold. Just as I was about to join them, I saw a distant vision of my pure, sweet love. Like a luminous image against a dark sky, her spirit form appeared. Her eyes were closed, as in my first vision, but her hands reached out to me. Her heavenly voice resonated in my ears, warning, "Be careful! Don't go with them; they're dangerous, and their path leads only to ruin." The vision vanished, and I snapped out of my trance. I shook off the three figures and hurried away into the darkness. I lost track of time and distance as I wandered, desperate to escape my haunting memories. It felt as though I had the entirety of space to roam.
At last I sat down on the ground to rest--for there seemed to be ground solid enough to rest upon--and while I sat there I saw glimmering through the darkness a light. As I drew near it I saw a great haze of light radiating from a room which I could see, but it was so bright it hurt my eyes to look upon it as would looking at the noon-day sun on earth have done. I could not bear it and would have turned away, when a voice said: "Stay, weary wanderer! Here are only kind hearts and helping hands for you. And if you would see your love, come in, for she is here and you may speak with her." Then I felt a hand--for I could see no one--draw my mantle over my head to shut out the brightness of the light, and then lead me into the room and seat me in a large chair. I was so weary, so weary, and so glad to rest. And in this room there was such peace, it seemed to me that I had found my way to heaven.
Finally, I sat down on what felt like solid ground to rest. As I rested, I noticed a faint light in the darkness. As I approached, I saw a bright haze coming from a room. The light was so intense it hurt my eyes, like looking directly at the midday sun. I couldn't bear it and was about to turn away when a voice said, "Wait, tired traveler! Here you'll find only kindness and help. If you want to see your love, come in. She's here, and you can speak with her." Then I felt an unseen hand cover my head with my cloak to shield me from the brightness. The hand guided me into the room and sat me in a large chair. I was exhausted and grateful for the rest. The room was filled with such peace that I thought I had found my way to heaven.
After a little I looked up and saw two gentle, kindly women who were like angels to my eyes, and I said to myself, "I have come near to heaven surely?" Again I looked, and by this time my eyes seemed strengthened, for beyond those two fair good women--and at first I could scarce believe it, so great was my joy--I saw my beloved herself smiling sadly but tenderly at where I sat. She smiled, but I knew she did not really see me; one of the ladies did though, and she was describing me to my darling in a low quiet voice. My darling seemed so pleased, for it confirmed to her what the man had told her. She had been telling these ladies what a remarkable experience she had had, and how it seemed to her like a strange dream. I could have cried out to her then that I was truly there, that I still lived, still loved her, and was trusting in her love for me, but I could not move, some spell was over me, some power I could dimly feel was holding me back.
After a moment, I looked up and saw two kind, gentle women who appeared angelic to me. I thought to myself, "Surely I'm close to heaven now." As my vision cleared, I noticed someone beyond those two women—I could hardly believe it, such was my joy—my beloved, smiling sadly but tenderly in my direction. She smiled, but I knew she couldn't actually see me. One of the ladies could, though, and was describing me to my darling in a soft voice. My beloved seemed pleased, as it confirmed what the man had told her earlier. She had been telling these ladies about her remarkable experience, which felt like a strange dream to her. I wanted to cry out that I was truly there, still alive, still in love with her, and trusting in her love for me. But I couldn't move; some mysterious force held me back, its power faintly perceptible.
And then those two kind ladies spoke and I knew they were not angels yet, for they were still in their earthly bodies and she could see and speak to them. They said much of what the kind good man had done, as to the hope there was for sinners like me.
The two compassionate women then spoke, and I realized they weren't angels yet, as they were still in their physical forms and she could see and communicate with them. They echoed much of what the benevolent man had said about the hope that existed for sinners like myself.
The same voice which had bidden me to enter, now asked would I like one of the ladies to write a message for me. I said, "Yes! a thousand times yes!"
The same voice that had invited me in now asked if I'd like one of the women to write a message for me. I replied, "Yes! Absolutely yes!"
Then I spoke my words and the spirit caused the lady to write them down. I said to my beloved that I still lived, still loved her. I bid her never to forget me, never to cease to think of me, for I required all her love and help to sustain me--I was ever the same to her though now I was weak and helpless and could not make her see me. And she, ah! she gave me such sweet words in return I cannot write them down; they are too sacred to me, and still rest in my heart for evermore.
I spoke, and the spirit made the lady write down my words. I told my beloved that I was still alive and still loved her. I asked her to never forget me, to always keep me in her thoughts, as I needed all her love and support to keep going. I explained that I remained the same person, even though I was now weak and unable to make myself visible to her. Her response was so tender and loving that I can't bring myself to write it down. Those words are too precious to me and will forever remain in my heart.
The period that followed this interview was one of deep sleep for me. I was so exhausted that when I left that room I wandered on a little way and then sank down upon the ground in deep dreamless unconsciousness. What did it matter where I rested when all was as night around me?
After the interview, I fell into a deep sleep. I was so exhausted that upon leaving the room, I stumbled a short distance before collapsing on the ground, losing consciousness entirely. In my state of utter despair, it made no difference where I rested; everything around me felt shrouded in darkness.
How long my sleep lasted I know not. At that period I had no means of counting time save by the amount of suffering and misery through which I passed. From my slumbers I awoke refreshed in a measure, and with all my senses stronger in me than before. I could move more rapidly; my limbs felt stronger and freer, and I was now conscious of a desire to eat I had not felt before. My longing grew so great that I went in search of food, and for a long time could find none anywhere. At last I found what looked like hard dry bread--a few crusts only, but I was glad to eat them, whereupon I felt more satisfied. Here I may say that spirits do eat the spiritual counterpart of your food, do feel both hunger and thirst, as keen to them as your apetites are to you on earth, although neither our food nor our drink would be any more visible to your material sight than our spiritual bodies are, and yet for us they possess objective reality. Had I been a drunkard or a lover of the pleasures of the table in my earthly body I should much sooner have felt the cravings of appetite. As it was, nature with me had ever been easily satisfied, and though at first I turned from those dry crusts in disgust a little reflection told me that I had now no way of procuring anything, I was like a beggar and had better content myself with a beggar's fare.
I'm not sure how long I slept. Back then, I had no way to measure time except by the amount of suffering and misery I endured. When I woke up, I felt somewhat refreshed, with my senses sharper than before. I could move faster, my limbs felt stronger and more flexible, and I now felt hungry for the first time. My hunger grew so intense that I went looking for food, but for a long time, I couldn't find any. Eventually, I found what looked like hard, dry bread—just a few crusts. I was grateful to eat them, and they helped satisfy my hunger. I should mention that spirits do eat spiritual versions of your food and experience hunger and thirst as intensely as you do on Earth. Although our food and drink wouldn't be visible to your physical eyes, just like our spiritual bodies, they are real to us. If I had been a heavy drinker or food enthusiast in my earthly life, I would have felt these cravings much sooner. As it was, I had always been easily satisfied, and though I initially turned away from those dry crusts in disgust, I quickly realized that I had no other way to get food. I was like a beggar and had to be content with a beggar's meal.
My thoughts had now turned to my beloved again, and the thoughts carried my spirit with them, so that I found myself entering once more the room where I had last seen her and the two ladies. This time I seemed to pass in at once, and was received by two spirit men whom I could but very faintly see. A veil seemed to hang between us, through which I saw those two spirit men, the ladies and my beloved. I was told that I might again give a message to her through the lady who had written my words before. I was so anxious to try if I could not make my darling write down my words herself as I had seen her guardian spirit do, that I was allowed to try. To my disappointment I found I could not do it; she was deaf to all I said, and I had to give up that idea and let the lady write for me as before. After I had given my message I rested for a short time and watched my beloved one's sweet face, as I had been wont to do in other happier days. My musings were interrupted by one of those spirit men--a grave, handsome young man he seemed to be so far as I could see him. He spoke to me in a quiet kindly voice, and said that if I truly desired to write my own words through my darling herself, it would be well for me to join a brotherhood of penitents who like myself desired to follow out the better way, and with them I should learn many things of which I was yet ignorant, and which would help me to fit myself to control her mind as well as give me the privilege I sought of being with her at times while she dwelt on earth. This way of repentance was hard, he said--very hard--the steps many, the toil and suffering great, but it led to a fair and happy land at last where I should rest in happiness such as I could not dream of now. He assured me (even as the kind earthly man had done) that my deformed body, which I was still so anxious to hide from my beloved one's eyes, would change as my spirit changed, till I should be once more fair to look upon, such as she would no longer grieve to see. Were I to remain upon the earth plane as I now was, I should most likely be drawn back into my former haunts of so-called pleasure, and in that atmosphere of spiritual degradation I should soon lose the power to be near my darling at all. For her own sake those who guarded her would be obliged to exclude me. On the other hand, were I to join this brotherhood (which was one of hope and endeavor), I should be so helped, so strengthened, and so taught, that when in due course my time came to return to the earth plane, I should have acquired a strength and an armor that could resist its temptations.
My thoughts returned to my beloved, and I found myself back in the room where I had last seen her and the two ladies. This time, I entered immediately and was greeted by two faint spirit men. A veil seemed to separate us, through which I could see them, the ladies, and my beloved. I was allowed to give another message through the lady who had written for me before. Eager to have my darling write my words herself, as I had seen her guardian spirit do, I was permitted to try. Disappointingly, she was deaf to my words, and I had to let the lady write for me again. After delivering my message, I briefly rested and gazed at my beloved's sweet face, as I used to do in happier times. One of the spirit men, a grave, handsome young man, interrupted my musings. He spoke kindly, saying that if I truly wished to write through my darling, I should join a brotherhood of penitents who sought to follow a better path. There, I would learn many things to help me control her mind and be with her while she lived on earth. He warned that this path of repentance was difficult, with many steps and great toil and suffering. However, it would lead to a fair and happy land where I would find unimaginable happiness. He assured me that my deformed body, which I still wanted to hide from my beloved, would change with my spirit until I became fair to look upon again. If I remained on the earth plane as I was, I would likely be drawn back to my former haunts of so-called pleasure. In that atmosphere of spiritual degradation, I would soon lose the ability to be near my darling at all. For her sake, her guardians would have to exclude me. However, if I joined this brotherhood of hope and endeavor, I would be helped, strengthened, and taught. When the time came for me to return to the earth plane, I would have acquired the strength and armor to resist its temptations.
I listened to the words of this grave, courteous spirit with wonder and a growing desire to know more of this brotherhood of whom he spoke, and begged he would take me to them. This he assured me he would do, and he also explained that I should be there of my own free will and choice only. Did I desire at any time to leave I could at once do so. "All are free in the Spirit world," he said. "All must follow only where their own wishes and desires lead them. If you study to cultivate the higher desires, means will be given you to attain them, and you will be strengthened with such help and strength as you may need. You are one who has never learned the power of prayer. You will learn it now, for all things come by earnest prayer, whether you are conscious that you pray or not. For good or for evil your desires are as prayers and call around you good or evil powers to answer them for you."
I listened intently to this solemn, polite spirit, fascinated and eager to learn more about the group he mentioned. I asked if he could introduce me to them, and he agreed, assuring me that my participation would be entirely voluntary. He explained that I could leave at any time, emphasizing that everyone in the Spirit world has free will and follows their own path. He continued, "If you focus on developing higher aspirations, you'll be given the means to achieve them, along with any necessary help and support. You've never fully grasped the power of prayer, but you'll discover it now. Everything comes through sincere prayer, whether you're aware you're praying or not. Your desires, good or bad, act as prayers, attracting corresponding forces to fulfill them."
As I was again growing weary and exhausted, he suggested that I should bid adieu to my darling for a time. He explained that I should gain more strength as well as permit her to do so if I left her for the time I was to remain in this place of which he spoke. It would also be well that she should not try to write for three months, as her mediumistic powers had been greatly tried, and if she did not rest them she would be much impaired, while I would require all that time to learn even the simple lessons needful before I could control her.
As I was feeling tired and drained once more, he proposed I say goodbye to my darling for a while. He explained that both of us would regain our strength if I left her during my stay in this place he mentioned. He also advised that she shouldn't attempt to write for three months, as her mediumistic abilities had been severely tested. If she didn't rest, her powers would weaken significantly. Meanwhile, I would need all that time to learn even the basic lessons necessary before I could control her.
Ah! me, how hard it seemed to us both to make this promise, but she set me the example, and I could but follow it. If she would try to be strong and patient so should I, and I registered a vow that if the God I had so long forgotten would remember and pardon me now, I would give all my life and all my powers to undo the wrongs that I had done; and so it was that I left for a time the troubled earth plane of the spirit world of which I had as yet seen so little, but in which I was yet to see and suffer so much. As I left the room to go with my new guide I turned to my love and waved my hand in farewell, and asked that the good angels and the God I dare not pray to for myself might bless her and keep her safe for evermore, and the last thing I saw was her tender eyes following me with that look of love and hope which was to sustain me through many a weary, painful hour.
We both found it difficult to make this promise, but she set the example, and I felt compelled to follow. If she could be strong and patient, so could I. I vowed that if God, whom I had long neglected, would forgive me, I would dedicate my life to rectifying my past wrongs. And so I left the troubled earth plane of the spirit world, of which I had seen little but would soon experience much suffering. As I departed with my new guide, I waved goodbye to my love. I asked that the angels and God, to whom I dared not pray for myself, bless and protect her forever. The last thing I saw was her tender gaze, filled with love and hope – a look that would sustain me through many difficult times ahead.