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THE RIDDLE OF LIFE SERIES— No. 2

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THE

LIFE AFTER

DEATH

AND

HOW THEOSOPHY

UNVEILS IT

^

BY

C.

W.|j-.EADBEATER

With an Additional Ct-- - * ^ Thoughts abe T:itn«js, ' ANNIE BESANT

PRICE 25 CENTS

THE THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY

OBJECTS

1. — To form a nucleus of the Universal Brotherhood of Hu- manity, without distinction of race, creed, sex, caste or color.

2. — To encourage the study of comparative religion, philosophy and science.

3. — To investigate unexplained laws of nature and the powers latent in man.

The Theasophical Society is composed of students, belonging to any religion in the world or to none, who are urited by their approval of the above objects, by their wish to remove religious antagonisms and to draw together men of good will, whatsoever their religious opinions, and by their desire to study religious truths and to share the results of their studies with others. Their bond of union is not the profession of a common belief, but a common search and aspiration for Truth. They hold that Truth should be sought by study, by reflection, by purity of life, by devotion to high ideals, and they regard Truth as a prize to be striven for, not as a dogma to be imposed by authority. They consider that belief should be the result of individual study or intuition, and not its antecedent, and should rest on knowledge, not on assertion. They extend tolerance to all, even to the intolerant, not as a privilege they bestow, but as a duty they perform, and they seek to remove ignorance, not to punish it. They see every religion as an ex- pression of the Divine Wisdom, and prefer its study to its con- demnation, and its practice to proselytism. Peace is their watch- word, as Truth is their aim.

Theosophy is the body of truths which forms the basis of all religions, and which cannot be claimed as the exclusive possession of any. It offers a philosophy which renders life intelligible, and which demonstrates the justice and the love which guide its evolu- tion. It puts death in its rightful place, as a recurring incident in an endless life, opening the gate-way of a fuller and more radiant existence. It restores to the world the Science of the Spirit, teaching man to know the Spirit as himself, and the mind and body as his servants. It illuminates the scriptures and doc- trines of religions by unveiling their hidden meanings, and thus justifying them at the bar of intelligence, as they are ever justified in the eyes of intuition.

Members of the Theosophical Society study these truths, and Theosophists endeavor to live them. Every one willing to study, to be tolerant, to aim high, and to work perseveringly, is welcomed as a member, and it rests with the member to become a true The- osophist.

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TKE MIDDLE OF LIFE SEilES-^Noi e' >,,:',,, :

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

AND HOW THEOSOPHY UNVEILS IT

By C. W. JjEADBEATER

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WITH AN ADDITIONAL CHAPTER ON "THOUGHTS ARE THINGS," By Annie Besant

Theosophical Publishing House

Krotona Hollywood, Los Angeles, Cal.

Beprinted 1918

PUBLISHER'S NOTE.

The following chapters are reprinted, with kind permission, from pamphlets issued by The Theosophical Publishing Committee, of Harrogate, and from an article in Lucifer for September, 1896. The reception given to the first of this Series, ' ' The Eiddle of Life, ' ' of which 30,000 copies have now been printed, leads us to think that the present booklet, which gives a rational picture of the actual facts of the after life, will be warmly welcomed.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. Is There Any Certain Knowledge? 1

IL The True Facts 5

III. Purgatory 10

IV. The Heaven-World 19

V. Many Mansions 26

VI. Our Friends in Heaven. 31

VII. Guardian Angels 37

VIII. Human Workers in the Unseen 43

IX. Helping the Dead 49

X. Thoughts are Things 53

490.270

ILLUSTRATIONS

NO. PAGE

i. A Noble Thought Frontispiece

ii. Devotional Feeling 12

iii. Intense Devotion 12

iv. Affection 28

V. Deep Love 28

vi. Pure Eeason 44

vii. Ambition 44

CHAPTER I.

IS THERE ANY CERTAIN KNOWLEDGE?

This subject of life after death is one of great inter- est to all of us, not only because we ourselves must cer- tainly one day die, but far more because there can scarcely be any one among us, except perhaps the very young, who has not lost (as we call it) by death some one or more of those who are near and dear to us. So if there be any information available with regard to the life after death, we are naturally very anxious to have it.

But the first thought which arises in the mind of the man who sees such a title as this is usually ^*Can any- thing be certainly known as to life after death?" We have all had various theories put before us on the sub- ject by the various religious bodies, and yet even the most devoted followers of these sects seem hardly to be- lieve their teachings about this matter, for they still speak of death as *^the king of terrors," and seem to regard the whole question as surrounded by mystery and horror. They may use the term ^^ falling asleep in Jesus," but they still employ the black dresses and plumes, the horrible crepe and the odious black-edged note-paper, they still surround death with all the trap- pings of woe, and with everything calculated to make it seem darker and more terrible. We have an evil hered- ity behind us in this matter; we have inherited these funereal horrors from our forefathers, and so we are used to them, and do not see the absurdity and mon- strosity of it all. The ancients wei*e in this respect wiser than we, for they did not associate all these nightmares of gloom with the death of the body — partly perhaps because they had a so much more rational method of disposing of the body — a method which was not only

<\: THB ill^E : AFTER DEATH

infiiiil!e|y; tetter f or t]|^\(iea(} man and more healthy for the living, but was also free from the gruesome sug- gestions connected with slow decay. The'y knew much more about death in those days, and because they knew more they mourned less.

The first thing that we must realize about death is that it is a perfectly natural incident in the course of our life. That ought to be obvious to us from the first, because if we believe at all in a God who is a loving Father we should know that a fate which, like death, comes to all alike, cannot have in it aught of evil to any, and that whether we are in this world or the next we must be equally safe in His hands. This consideration alone should have shown us that death is not something to be dreaded, but simply a necessary step in our evolu- tion. It ought not to be necessary for Theosophy to come among Christian nations and teach that death is a friend and not an enemy, and it would not be necessary if Christianity had not so largely forgotten its own best traditions. It has come to regard the grave as **the bourne from which no traveller returns, '^ and the pas- sage into it as a leap in the dark, into some awful un- known void. On this point, as on many others, Theoso- phy has a gospel for the western world; it has to an- nounce that there is no gloomy impenetrable abyss be- yond the grave, but instead a world of light and life, which may be known to us as clearly and fully and ac- curately as the streets of our own city. We have created the gloom and the horror for ourselves, like children who frighten themselves with ghastly stories, and we have only to study the facts of the case, and all these artificial clouds will roll away at once. Death is no darksome king of terrors, no skeleton with a scythe to cut short the thread of life, but rather an angel bearing a golden key, with which he unlocks for us the door into a fuller and higher life than this.

But men will naturally say ^^This is very beautiful and poetical, but how can we certainly know that it is

IS THERE ANY CERTAIN KNOWLEDGE?

really so?" You may know it in many ways; there is plenty of evidence ready to the hand of any one who will take the trouble to gather it together. Shakespeare's statement is really a remarkable one when we consider that ever since the dawn of history, and in every country of which we know anything, travellers have always been returning from that bourne, and showing themselves to their fellow-men. There is any amount of evidence for such apparitions, as they have been called. At one time it was fashionable to ridicule all such stories; now it is no longer so, since scientitic men like Sir William Crookes, the discoverer of the metal thallium and the inventor of Crooke's radiometer; and Sir Oliver Lodge, the great electrician, and eminent public men like Mr. Balfour, the late Premier of England, have joined and actively worked with a society instituted for the investi- gation of such phenomena. Read the reports of the work of that Society for Psychical Research, and you will see something of the testimony which exists as to the return of the dead. Read books like Mr. Stead's **Real Ghost Stories," or Camille Flammarion's ^^L'lnconnu," and you will find there plenty of accounts of apparitions, showing themselves not centuries ago in some far-away land, but here and now among ourselves, to persons still living, who can be questioned and can testify to the reality of their experiences.

Another line of testimony to the life after death is the study of Modern Spiritualism. I know that many people think that there is nothing to be found along that line but fraud and deception ; but I can myself bear personal witness that this is not so. Fraud and decep- tion there may have been — nay, there has been — in cer- tain cases ; but nevertheless I fearlessly assert that there are great truths behind, which may be discovered by any man who is willing to devote the necessary time and pa- tience to their unfolding. Here again there is a vast literature to be studied, or the man who prefers it may make his investigations for himself at first-hand as I did.

THE LIFE AFTEB DEATH

Many men may not be willing to take that trouble or to devote so much time; very well, that is their affair, but unless they will examine, they have no right to scoff at those who have seen, and therefore know that these things are true.

A third line of evidence, which is the one most con- mending itself to Theosophical students, is that of di- rect investigation. Every man has within himself latent faculties, undeveloped senses, by means of which the unseen world can be directly cognized, and to any one who will take the trouble to evolve these powers the whole world beyond the grave will lie open as the day. A good many Theosophical students have already un- folded these inner senses, and it is the evidence thus ob- tained that I wish to lay before you. I know very well that this is a considerable claim to make — a claim which would not be made by any minister of any church when he gave you his version of the states after death. He will say, ' ^ The church teaches this, ' ' or * ^ The Bible tells us so," but he will never say, ^^I who speak to you, I myself have seen this, and know it to be true." But in Theosophy we are able to say to you quite definitely that many of us know personally that of which we speak, for we are dealing with a definite series of facts which we have investigated, and which you yourselves may inves- tigate in turn. "We offer you what we know, yet we say to you ^^ Unless this commends itself to you as utterly reasonable, do not rest contented with our assertion; look into these things for yourselves as fully as you can, and then you will be in a position to speak to others as authoritatively as we do, ' ' But what are the facts which are disclosed to us by these investigations?

CHAPTER 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 inteEect, 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 sepa- ration 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 so 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 re- member it fully. A man may learn to focus his con- sciousness 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 dur- ing the sleep of his physical body every man uses his astral vehicle to a greater or less 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 have dreamt of them; more frequently we

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

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 con- sideration, 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 per- sonality 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 died, 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 partX Yet science tells us with no uncertain voice that this is so, for it describes to us whole worlds of minute life 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

6

THE TEUE FACTS.

many cases life itself. But our senses are limited in another direction. We cannot see the very air that sur- rounds 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 clair- voyance or astral sight opens for us one or two addition- al 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 con- sciousness 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 mat- ter, 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

^Fuller details on this may be found in my ''The Other Side of Death.''.

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

he examined the object closely he would perceive that all the particles were visibly 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, peoplejvstill 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 im- pression upon them. Even then, for some time he per- suades 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 old. 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 defec-

8

THE TRUE FACTS.

tive teaching which he has received. He does not under- stand where he is, or what has happened, since his situa- tion is not what he expected from the orthodox stand- point. As an English general once said on this occas- ion, **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!"

CHAPTER m.

PURGATORY.

A great deal of totally unnecessary uneasiness and even acute suffering has been caused by those who still continue to teach the world silly fables about non-exis- tent bugbears instead of using reason and common sense. The baseless and blasphemous hell-fire theory has done more harm than even its promoters know, for it has worked evil beyond the grave as well as on this side. But presently the *^dead^' man will meet with some other dead person who has been more sensibly instructed, and will learn from him that there is no cause for fear, and that there is a rational life to be lived in this new world just as there was in the old one.

He will find by degrees that there is very much that is new as well as much that is a counterpart of that which he already knows; for in this astral world thoughts and desires express themselves in visible forms, though these are composed mostly of the finer matter of the plane. As his astral life proceeds, these become more and more prominent, for we must remember that he is all the while steadily withdrawing further and further into himself. The entire period of an incarnation is in reality occupied by the ego in first putting himself forth into matter, and then in drawing back again with the results of his effort. If the ordinary man were asked to draw a line symbolical of life, he would probably make it a straight one, beginning at birth and ending at death ; but the Theosophical student should rather represent the life as a great ellipse, starting from the ego on the higher mental level and returning to him. The line would descend into the lower part of the mental plane, and then into the astral. A very small portion, compara-

10

PUEGATOEY.

tively, at the bottom of the ellipse, would be upon the physical plane, and the line would very soon reascend into the astral and mental planes. The physical life would therefore be represented only by that small por- tion of the curve which lay below the line which indi- cated the boundary between the astral and physical planes, and birth and death would simply be the points at which the curve crossed that line — obviously by no means the most important points of the whole.

The real central point would clearly be that furthest removed from the ego — the turning point, as it were — what in astronomy we should call the aphelion. That is neither birth nor death, but should be a middle point in the physical life, when the force from the ego has ex- pended its outward rush, and turns to begin the long process of withdrawal. Gradually his thoughts should turn upward, he cares less and less for merely physical matters, and presently he drops the dense body alto- gether. His life on the astral plane commences, but dur- ing the whole of it the process of withdrawal continues. The result of this is that as time passes he pays less and less attention to the lower matter of which counterparts of physical objects are composed, and is more and more occupied with that higher matter of which thought- forms are built — so far, that is, as thought-forms appear on the astral plane at all. So his life becomes more and more a life in a world of thought, and the counterpart of the world which he has left fades from his view, not that he has changed his location in space, but that his interest is shifting its center. His desires still persist, and the forms surrounding him will be very largely the expression of these desires, and whether his life is one of happiness or discomfort will depend chiefly upon the nature of these.

A study of this astral life shows us very clearly the reason for many ethical precepts. Most men recognize that sins which injure others are definitely and obviously wrong ; but they sometimes wonder why it should be said

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THE LIFE AFTEE DEATH

to be wrong for them to feel jealousy, or hatred, or am- bition, so long as they do not allow themselves to mani- fest these feelings outwardly in deed or in speech. A glimpse at this after-world shows us exactly how such feelings injure the man who harbors them, and how they would cause him suffering of the most acute char- acter after his death. We shall understand this better if we examine a few typical cases of astral life, and see what their principal characteristics will be.

Let us think first of the ordinary colorless man, who is neither specially good, nor specially bad, nor indeed specially anything in particular. The man is in no way changed, so colorlessness will remain his principal char- acteristic (if we can call it one) after his death. He will have no special suffering and no special joy, and may very probably find astral life rather dull, because he has not during his time on earth developed any rational interests. If he has had no ideas beyond gossip or what is called sport, or nothing beyond his business or his dress, he is likely to find time hang heavy on his hands when all such things are no longer possible. But the case of a man who has had strong desires of a low mate- rial type, such as could be satisfied only on the physical plane, is an even worse one. Think of the case of the drunkard or the sensualist. He has been the slave of overmastering craving during earth-life, and it still re- mains undiminished after death — rather, it is stronger than ever, since its vibrations have no longer the heavy physical particles to set in motion. But the possibility of gratifying this terrible thirst is for ever removed, because the body, through which alone it could be satis- fied, is gone. We see that the fires of purgatory are no inapt symbols for the vibrations of such a torturing de- sire as this. It may endure for a quite long time, since it passes only by gradually wearing itself out, and the man's fate is undoubtedly a terrible one. Yet there are two points that we should bear in mind in considering it. First, the man has made it absolutely for himself,

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Fig. 2.

Fig. 3.

PUEGATORY.

and determined the exact degree of its power and its duration. If he had controlled that desire during life there would have been just so much the less of it to trouble him after death. Secondly, it is the only way in which he can get rid of the vice. If he could pass from a life of sensuality and drunkenness directly into his next incarnation, he would be born a slave to his vice — it would dominate him from the beginning, and there would be for him no possibility of escape. But now that the desire has worn itself out, he will begin his new career without that burden, and the soul, having had so severe a lesson, will make every possible effort to re- strain its lower vehicles from repeating such a mistake. All this was known to the world even as lately as classical times. "We see it clearly imaged for us in the myth of Tantalus, who suffered always with raging thirst, yet was doomed for ever to see the water recede just as it was about to touch his lips. Many another sin produces its result in a manner just as gruesome, al- though each is peculiar to itself. See how the miser will suffer when he can no longer hoard his gold, when he perhaps knows that it is being spent by alien hands. Think how the jealous man will continue to suffer from his jealousy, knowing that he has now no power to inter- fere upon the physical plane, yet feeling more strongly than ever. Remember the fate of Sisyphus in Greek myth — how he was condemned forever to roll a heavy rock up to the summit of a mountain, only to see it roll down again the moment that success seemed within his reach. See how exactly this typified the after-life of the man of worldly ambition. He has all his life been in the habit of forming selfish plans, and therefore he con- tinues to do so in the astral world; he carefully builds up his plot until it is perfect in his mind, and only then realizes that he has lost the physical body which is neces- sary for its achievement. Down fall his hopes ; yet so in- grained is the habit that he continues again and again to roll the same stone up the same mountain of ambition,

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THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

until the vice is worn out. Then at last he realizes that he need not roll his rock, and lets it rest in peace at the bottom of the hill.

.We have considered the case of the ordinary man, and of the man who dii3Pers from the ordinary because of his gross and selfish desires. Now let us examine the case of the man who differs from the ordinary in the other direction — who has some interests of a rational nature. In order to understand how the after-life ap- pears to him, we must bear in mind that the majority of men spend the greater part of their waking life and most of their strength in work that they do not really like, that they would not do at all if it were not necessary in order to earn their living, or support those who are de- pendent upon them. Kealize the condition of the man when all necessity for this grinding toil is over, when it is no longer needful to earn a living, since the astral body requires no food nor clothing nor lodging. Then for the first time since earliest childhood that man is free to do precisely what he likes, and can devote his whole time to whatever may be his chosen occupation — so long, that is, as it is of such a nature as to be capable of realization without physical matter. Suppose that a man 's greatest delight is in music ; upon the astral plane he has the opportunity of listening to all the grandest music that earth can produce, and is even able under these new conditions to hear far more in it than before, since here other and fuller harmonies than our dull ears can grasp are now within his reach. The man whose de- light is in art, who loves beauty in form and color, has all the loveliness of this higher world before him from which to choose. If his delight is in beauty in Nature, he has unequalled possibilities for indulging it; for he can readily and rapidly move from place to place, and enjoy in quick succession wonders of Nature which the physical man would need years to visit. If his fancy turns to- wards science or history, the libraries and the labora- tories of the world are at his disposal, and his compre-

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PURGATORY.

hension of processes in chemistry and biology would be far fuller than ever before, for now he could see the inner as well as the outer workings, and many of the causes as well as the effects. And in all these cases there is the wonderful additional delight that no fatigue is possible. Here we know how constantly, when we are making some progress in our studies or our experiments, we are unable to carry them on because our brain will not bear more than a certain amount of strain; outside of the physical no fatigue seems to exist, for it is in reality the brain and not the mind that tires.

All this time I have been speaking of mere selfish gratification, even though it be of the rational and intel- lectual kind. But there are those among us who would not be satisfied without something higher than this— whose greatest joy in any life would consist in serving their fellow-men. What has the astral life in store for them? They will pursue their philanthropy more vigo- rously than ever, and under better conditions than on this lower plane. There are thousands whom they can help, and with far greater certainty of really being able to do good than we usually attain in this life. Some devote themselves thus to the general good; some are especially occupied with cases among their own family or friends, either living or dead. It is a strange inver- sion of the facts, this employment of those words living and dead ; for surely we are the dead, we who are buried in these gross, cramping physical bodies; and they are truly the living, who are so much freer and more capa- .ble, because less hampered. Often the mother who has passed into that higher life will still watch over her child, and be to him a veritable guardian angel; often the ^'dead'^ husband still remains within reach, and in touch with his sorrowing wife, thankful if even now and then he is able to make her feel that he lives in strength and love beside her as of yore.

If all this be so, you may think, then surely the sooner we die the better ; such knowledge seems almost to place

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THE LIFE AFTEE DEATH

a premium on suicide! If you are thinking solely of yourself and of your pleasure, then emphatically that would be so. But if you think of your duty towards God and towards your fellows, then you will at once see that this consideration is negatived. You are here for a purpose — a purpose which can only be attained upon this physical plane. The soul has to take much trouble to go through much limitation, in order to gain this earthly incarnation, and therefore its efforts must not be thrown away unnecessarily. The instinct of self- preservation is divinely implanted in our breasts, and it is our duty to make the most of this earthly life which is ours, and to retain it as long as circumstances permit. There are lessons to be learnt on this plane which cannot be learnt anywhere else, and the sooner we learn them the sooner we shall be free for ever from the need of return to this lower and more limited life. So none must dare to die until his time comes, though when it does come he may well rejoice, for indeed he is about to pass from labor to refreshment. Yet all this which I have told you now is insignificant beside the glory of the life which follows it — the life of the heaven- world. This is the purgatory — that is the endless bliss of which monks have dreamed and poets sung — not a dream after all, but a living and glorious reality. The astral life is happy for some, unhappy for others, accord- ing to the preparation they have made for it; but what follows it is perfect happiness for all, and exactly suited to the needs of each.

Before closing this chapter let us consider one or two questions which are perpetually recurring to the minds of those who seek information about the next life. Shall we be able to make progress there, some will ask? Un- doubtedly, for progress is the rule of the Divine Scheme. It is possible to us just in proportion to our development. The man who is a slave to desire can only progress by wearing out his desire ; still, that is the best that is possible at his stage. But the man who is kindly

16

PUEGATORY.

and helpful learns much in many ways through the work which he is able to do in that astral life; he will return to earth with many additional powers and qual- ities because of the practice he has had in unselfish ef- fort. So we need have no fear as to this question of progress.

Another point often raised is, shall we recognize our loved ones who have passed on before us ? Assuredly we shall, for neither they nor we shall be changed; why,, then, should we not recognize them? The attraction is still there, and will act as a magnet to draw together those who feel it, more readily and more surely there than here. True, that if the loved one has left this earth very long ago, he may have already passed beyond the astral plane, and entered the heaven-life; in that case we must wait until we also reach that level before we can rejoin him, but when that is gained we shall possess our friend more perfectly than in this prison-house we can ever realize. But of this be sure, that those whom you have loved are not lost ; if they have died recently, then you will find them on the astral plane; if they have died long ago, you will find them in the heaven- life, but in any case the reunion is sure where the af- fection exists. For love is one of the mightiest powers of the universe, whether it be in life or in death.

There is an infinity of interesting information to be given about this higher life. You should read the liter- ature; read Mrs. Besant's '^ Death and After," and my own books on ^^The AstraLi'lane, ' ' and "The Other Side of Death." It is very well worth your while to study tliis subject, for the knowledge of the truth takes away all fear of death, and makes life easier to live, because we understand its object and its end. Death brings no suffering, but only joy, for those who live the true, the unselfish life. The old Latin saying is literally true — Mors janua vitae — death is the gate of life. That is ex- actly what it is — a gate into a fuller and higher life. On the other side of the grave, as well as on this, prevails;

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THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

the great law of Divine Justice, and we can trust as im- plicity there as here to the action of that law, with re- gard both to ourselves and to those we love.

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CHAPTER IV.

THE HEAVEN-WORLD

All religions agree in declaring the existence of heaven, and in stating that the enjoyment of its bliss follows upon a well-spent earthly life. Christianity and Mohammedanism speak of it as a reward assigned by God to those who have pleased Him, but most other faiths describe it rather as the necessary result of the good life, exactly as we should from the Theosophical point of view. Yet though all religions agree in painting this happy life in glowing terms, none of them have succeeded in producing an impression of reality in their descriptions. All that is written about heaven is so absolutely unlike anything that we have known, that many of the descriptions seem almost grotesque to us. We should hesitate to admit this with regard to the legends familiar to us from our infancy, but if the stories of one of the other great religions were read to us, we should see it readily enough. In Buddhist or Hindu books you will find magniloquent accounts of intermin- able gardens, in which the trees are all of gold and silver, and their fruits of various kinds of jewels, and you might be tempted to smile, unless the thought occurred to you that after all, to the Buddhist or Hindu our tales of streets of gold and gates of pearl might in truth seem quite as improbable. The fact is that the ridiculous ele- ment is imported into these accounts only when we take them literally, and fail to realize that each scribe is try- ing the same task from his point of view, and that all alike are failing because the great truth behind it all is;

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THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

utterly indescribable. The Hindu writer had no doubt seen some of the gorgeous gardens of the Indian kings, where just such decorations as he describes are com- monly employed. The Jewish scribe had no familiarity with such things, but he dwelt in a great and magnificent city — probably Alexandria; and so his conception of splendor was a city, but made unlike anything on earth by the costliness of its material and its decorations. So each is trying to paint a truth which is too grand for words by employing such similes as are familiar