LIFE AFTER DEATH/PART 2
II
THE TRUE FACTS
The state of affairs
found as actually existing is much more rational than most of the current
theories. It is not found that any sudden change takes place in man at death,
or that he is spirited away to some heaven beyond the stars. On the contrary,
man remains after death exactly what he was before it — the same in intellect,
the same in his qualities and powers; and the conditions in which he finds
himself are those which his own thoughts and desires have already created for
him. There is no reward or punishment from outside, but only the actual result
of what the man himself has done and said and thought while here on earth. In
fact, the man makes his bed during earth life and afterwards he has to lie on
it!
This is the
first and most prominent fact — that we have not here a strange new life, but a
continuation of the present one. We are not separated from the dead, for they
are here about us all the time. The only separation is the limitation of our
consciousness, so that we have lost, not our loved ones, but the power to see
them. It is quite possible for us to raise our consciousness, that we can see
them and talk with them as before, and all of us constantly do that, though we
only rarely remember it fully. A man may learn to focus his consciousness in his
astral body while his physical body is still awake, but that needs special
development, and in the case of the average man would take much time. But
during the sleep of his physical body every man uses his astral vehicle to a
greater or lesser extent, and in that way we are daily with our departed
friends. Sometimes we have a partial remembrance of meeting them, and then we
say we dreamt of them; more frequently we have no recollection of such
encounters and remain ignorant that they have taken place. Yet it is a definite
fact that the ties of affection are still as strong as ever, and so the moment
the man is freed from the chains of his physical encasement he naturally seeks
the company of those whom he loves. So that in truth the only change is that he
spends the night with them instead of the day, and he is conscious of them
astrally instead of physically.
The bringing
through of the memory from the astral plane to the physical is another and
quite separate consideration, which in no way affects our consciousness on that
other plane, nor our ability to function upon it with perfect ease and freedom.
Whether you recollect them or not, they are still living their life close to
you, and the only difference is that they have taken off this robe of flesh
which we call the body. That makes no change in them, any more than it makes a
change in your personality when you remove your overcoat. You are somewhat
freer, indeed, because you have less weight to carry, and precisely the same is
the case with them. The man's passions, affections, emotions and intellect are
not in the least affected when he dies, for none of these belong to the
physical body which he has laid aside. He has dropped this vesture, and is
living in another, but he is still able to think and to feel just as before.
I know how
difficult it is for the average mind to grasp the reality of that which we
cannot see with our physical eyes. It is very hard for us to realize how very
partial our sight is — to understand that we are living in a vast world of
which we see only a tiny part. Yet science tells us with no uncertain voice
this is so, for it describes to us whole worlds of minute life (microbes) of
whose very existence we should be entirely ignorant as far as our senses are
concerned. Nor are the creatures of those worlds unimportant because minute,
for upon a knowledge of the condition and habits of some of those microbes
depends our ability to preserve health, and in many cases life itself. But our
senses are limited in another direction. We cannot see the very air that
surrounds us; our senses would give us no indication of its existence, except
that when it is in motion we are aware of it by the sense of touch. Yet in it
there is a force that can wreck our mightiest vessels and throw down our strongest
buildings. You see how all about us there are mighty forces which yet elude our
poor and partial senses; so obviously we must beware of falling into the
fatally common error of supposing that what we see is all there is to see.
We are, as it
were, shut up in a tower, and our senses are tiny windows opening out in
certain directions. In many other directions we are entirely shut in, but
clairvoyance or astral sight opens for us one or two additional windows, and so
enlarges our prospect, and spreads before us a new and wider world, which is
yet part of the old one, though before we did not know of it.
Looking out into
this new world, what should we first see? Supposing that one of us transferred
his consciousness to the astral plane what changes would be the first to strike
him? To the first glance there would probably be very little difference, and he
would suppose himself to be looking upon the same world as before. Let me
explain to you why this is so — partially at least, for to explain fully would need
a whole treatise upon astral physics. Just as we have different conditions of
matter here, the solid, the liquid, the gaseous, so are there different
conditions or degrees of density of astral matter, and each degree is attracted
by and corresponds to that which is similar to it on the physical plane. So
that your friend would still see the walls and the furniture to which he was
accustomed, for though the physical matter of which they are composed would no
longer be visible to him, the densest type of astral matter would still outline
them for him as clearly as ever. True, if he examined the object closely he
would perceive that all the particles were visible in rapid motion, instead of
only invisibly, as is the case on this plane; but very few men do observe
closely, and so a man who dies often does not know at first that any change has
come over him.
He looks about
him, and sees the same rooms with which he is familiar, peopled still by those whom
he has known and loved — for they also have astral bodies, which are within the
range of his new vision. Only by degrees does he realize that in some ways
there is a difference. For example, he soon finds that for him all pain and
fatigue have passed away. If you can at all realize what that means, you will
begin to have some idea of what the higher life truly is. Think of it, you who
have scarcely ever a comfortable moment, you who in the stress of your busy
life can hardly remember when you last felt free from fatigue; what would it be
to you never again to know the meaning of the words weariness and pain? We have
so mismanaged our teaching in these Western countries on the subject of
immortality that usually a dead man finds it difficult to believe that he is
dead, simply because he still sees and hears, thinks and feels. 'I am not
dead', he will often say, 'I am alive as much as ever, and better than I ever
was before'. Of course, he is; but that is exactly what he ought to have
expected, if he had been properly taught. Realization may perhaps come to him
in this
way.
He sees his
friends about him, but he soon discovers that he cannot always communicate with
them. Sometimes he speaks to them, and they do not seem to hear; he tries to
touch them, and finds that he can make no impression upon them. Even then, for
some time, he persuades himself that he is dreaming, and will presently awake,
for at other times (when they are what we call asleep) his friends are
perfectly conscious of him, and talk with him as of oldc But gradually he discovers
the fact that he is after all dead, and then he usually begins to become
uneasy. Why? Again because of the defective teaching which he has received. He
does not understand where he is, or what has happened, since his situation is
not what he expected from the orthodox standpoint. As an English general once
said on this occasion, 'But if I am dead, where am I? If this is heaven I don't
think much of it; and if it is hell, it is better than I expected!'
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