By the Spirit of Robert G. Ingersoll.
Through the Lips of Cora L. V. Richmond,
at Cassadaga Camp,1 Aug. 5, 1900.
Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen:—I have no human form of my own; I have no lips of earthly life with which to address you.
I did not know when I last stood in your midst that I would be a living spirit today.
When the change came that set my soul free from the thralldom of earth, I had no knowledge of that which was to come, I say, I had no knowledge. Within every human mind there is born the impulse of hope; in every human mind the aspirations to futurity. I had received no evidence, even in your sylvan retreat here, of that which would convince me beyond all doubt of a future individual existence.
You will bear me testimony, Mr. Chairman and friends, that I never doubted your honesty. I believed that you thought that you had evidence. But a mind used to much careful analysis; a mind conscious of the fallibility of the human senses and human judgment, could but think that much of that which was supposed to be evidence of a future life was in reality but the happy conception of faith. But I am here to confess my mistakes as a spirit who is now aware of living, who is not willing to be considered dead, who does not wish to be mentioned in the past tense, and who, with your permission, will describe to you where he is.
I am a conscious, living intelligence, a thinking, active being, no longer bound by the narrow limitations of time and sense, and only tethered by my own lack of knowledge.
I have not smiled down from parapets and towers made of precious stones, nor from those streets of gold, nor from the midst of those fountains flowing with milk and honey, upon souls in torment and torture. I have not been glad that I was one of the saints to be saved and that most of my friends were to be lost. No such heaven has received me.
None of my theological friends have ventured to send me to the theological heaven, and I am not in the theological heaven. No angels, as far as I know, of the theological kind, received me when I passed from earth; no one ushered me into a kingdom of transcendent beauty and greatness which was separated from all the rest of the realms of space; no walls rose up; no gates opened to receive me guarded by the ancient benefactor of those who are saved; Saint Peter has not welcomed me, that I am aware of. If he did, he stood among those multitudes of spirits that I have seen, and he wears no label, and he has not refused to admit me into the place over which he has (it is said) guardianship. No harp has been presented and no crown. I saw no walls that shut out the majority of the human race; no alabaster throne, on which a fearful, judging God is enthroned, have I seen. I have passed through no vast spaces. I have not entered into the theological heaven that shuts you out and the majority of my friends. I have not smiled down from parapets and towers made of precious stones, nor from those streets of gold, nor from the midst of those fountains flowing with milk and honey, upon souls in torment and torture. I have not been glad that I was one of the saints to be saved and that most of my friends were to be lost. No such heaven has received me.
Notwithstanding a few of the utterances of my theological friends, that have been wafted to my consciousness in spirit life, I have seen no hell. No yawning abyss opens to receive my spirit; no flames of torture dart up from an abyss still more terrible to engulf and enfold me. No personal Satan, whether described in Milton’s “Paradise Lost” or in the figurative language of the Bible, has come to mock and torment me, nor one among the general throng of spirits to remind me of my sorrow, my condition, and ready to torment me further on. I entered no shadowy, cloudy region of flame and torture. I did not see demons lurking everywhere for those who are disenthralled, for earth to swallow them up in the shadows of eternal torment.
Ah, my friends! I have passed the boundary of death, and I have tested all that death can do. I was not afraid, because the mind becomes prepared by inward retrospection for the change that must inevitably come. I did not have much hope, but I was most intensely anxious until the last moment of my mortal life to study the change that was coming to me. I felt that it was coming, though I did not tell my family and friends. So when it finally came I wished to watch every emotion, every pulsation, every throbbing thought before the mind sunk away into that forgetfulness, which I thought might be the Lethean stream from which I would never awaken.
To my great surprise, with the shock that carried me off I felt the gateways of my being unloosen, and I felt as I have sometimes felt when watching the dawn, when Aurora, with her attendant beams, glides up the heavens and one by one unbars the gateways of the dawn for Phoebus, the god of day.
To my great surprise, with the shock that carried me off I felt the gateways of my being unloosen, and I felt as I have sometimes felt when watching the dawn, when Aurora, with her attendant beams, glides up the heavens and one by one unbars the gateways of the dawn for Phoebus, the god of day. You have seen with what splendor these gateways swing open and the rays of light, first reluctantly, then more consciously and more aware, rush in through all the avenues of existence. You have seen the leaves tremble, you have seen the lake grow silvery gray, and golden, and crimson beneath the flush of dawn, and you have almost heard the sliding of the bars of light that swing the gates open to receive the day god. I felt innumerable beings, throngs of messengers, sliding back the bolts and bars of my material consciousness, and opening up avenues of which I was unaware. Almost instantly it seemed to me millions of fairy singers touched my recollections and my consciousness in ways that had been well nigh forgotten; great and wonderful depths and promontories of thoughts and feelings came throbbing through my brain and heart like the tides that “well up when the ocean yields up its mighty treasures. I felt myself growing more and more conscious, more and more aware; more and more there were all the recollections and memories that had long perished: the imaginations of early youth and later manhood. Those wonderful imaginings with which our lives are crowded, and that make up in reality the immortal things that we are.
Oh, you remember I believed in imagination! I thought it lent wings and power to every human faculty. I believed that it should be cultivated in the minds of children until poetry and philosophy should go hand in hand. But I never dreamed that that wonderful gift of Imagination lies close to Intuition; that it really opens the gateways of immortality to your poets, seers and philosophers.
I can understand now how the immortal Shakespeare learned the wisdom of life and his hints of that which is to come. I can understand now how the poets of antiquity reveled in this knowledge of the higher life, through that heaven-born gift of imagination. Then and there, in that supreme moment of the mighty change, I was glad that my imagination had not been sealed. Glad, Mr. Chairman, that in the midst of the treadmill of time, of the dull realities of human existence, of human law and lawmaking that there was a realm in my nature that had drawn close to the immortal realm and through which I had passed with fairies and blessed beings, creatures of those thoughts that are set free from the trammels of time and of the senses.
Now when the great hand of this added life, with all its messengers, had set free the thoughts that were teeming and pulsing in my brain, when every attribute seemed to kindle a resplendent glow, when near and far trooping messengers came born of the higher life, I found that I had fashioned them, and instead of being creatures of the imagination, poetic images that I had conjured up in my flights of fancy, they were living realities; they were born of the affections of the past, they were those affections that had been folded away in the chambers of the spirit, whose memories, laden with lavender and with sweetest gifts, had been placed among the things that were. All these came, as if summoned by the mighty presence of this wonderful change, to bid me welcome to myself; welcome to every avenue of my being, that until then had been closed and fettered; welcome to the great storehouse of thought and aspiration, that had sometimes been neglected; welcome to the hopes and prophecies that—some of them—had been abortive on the earth, or fallen, like the blossoms, or like seeds, on unfruitful soil.
I have never experienced so great a rapture as that which came to me because of death, the surpassing freedom of the consciousness that thought is eternal; that not one of these fairy children of the brain would be lost; that not one of these hopes and imaginings for human life would be destroyed; that not one of all those whom I had loved was missing in this goodly company that gathered to receive me.
Oh! I could stand at this hour for many days of mortal time and tell you of the infinite rapture of death; of that which you and I and all human beings have dreaded and feared the most of all things. I could stand here for hours, and days, and weeks, and declare to you that, not human birth, when the babe gazes for the first time into the mother’s eyes when she bends with all absorbing and grateful love above that little form, when the babe realizes for the first time the infinity of the love that is in the mother’s eyes, not that compares with the great rapture of death; not human love when the heart hath found its chosen mate and life opens with all its beauty like a newborn bower of paradise; not human love when two lives are linked together in perfect happiness and labor and suffer together, can compare with the great rapture of being caught into the arms of this eternal mother Death. Oh! I have stood (as you all have stood) when in human life over the remains of the dearest and the best; I have seen their silent lips close in the last sleep, their faces and forms chiseled and white, as if by some enchanted sculptor, and I have yearned; as you have yearned, and I have asked; as you have asked, and I have thought; as you have thought, and I have sobbed; as you have sobbed over the great relentlessness of this seeming foe of human life; but I have lately stood in spirit where my own loved ones were weeping, where the silence, and the gloom, and the stillness shut out all possible communion, where they could not follow, where they did not understand, where the dear hearts were clutched in the awful agony of this separation, and yet in the midst of that I have never experienced so great a rapture as that which came to me because of death, the surpassing freedom of the consciousness that thought is eternal; that not one of these fairy children of the brain would be lost; that not one of these hopes and imaginings for human life would be destroyed; that not one of all those whom I had loved was missing in this goodly company that gathered to receive me.
The awful barrier of the great human grief, the one inevitable sequence of human blindness to spiritual presences, had separated me from them and them from me.
Was I dreaming? Was it a delirium that would soon pass? Was this a great ecstasy that preceded the final dissolution and end? Nay. For there was my body clothed for sepulture, for such disposition as had been my wish and theirs who loved me. It was there. But oh! what was that compared to this? The eyes could not see; the lips could not speak; the hands could not move in response to all the endearing words that were uttered. But I was there; and after the great first flash of the awakening, after the great first consciousness of being free, of this which had come to me, of a new birth, and a new awareness of what that birth meant, there came a change: Then I, too, was immersed for a time in grief. A sudden change came over me, a sudden recollection that they did not know me, a sudden consciousness that those whom I had loved could not see me, nor hear me, nor speak to me, nor be aware of my existence. I moved among them a being unknown. The awful barrier of the great human grief, the one inevitable sequence of human blindness to spiritual presences, had separated me from them and them from me. For the instant I would have gone back into that habitation of clay; for the instant I would have taken up the breath and burden of human life again. Oh! there have been those who have come back from the borderland of the spirit realm and told the story of their experiences to their friends, and physicians, and men of science, and men of learning have heard them. Then I said: “Oh! it is but the imaginings of a poor, weak and sickly brain.” I uttered that sentence, and bestowed it upon others, as others have bestowed it upon you.
At this hour I take upon myself all the blame that I deserve for laughing at such as had knowledge of the future life; for disputing the evidence that came to minds as capable of judging as myself; for helping to seal the doorways between human consciousness and that which shall come after death. I take back the boasted sentence of my proud agnostic mind, “One world at a time is enough for me.”
“one world at a time is enough for me,” but it must mean all the world, not a part of it; the entirety of existence…it must be all of that which is within, around, beneath and above as well as that which is in the conscious human sentient being and frame that you now possess.
I ask you to forgive me; for there is nothing that can come into human life, there is no knowledge of love, of poesy or science, nothing that can uplift and strengthen the infirm, the week, the downtrodden, and those who are prone to error, like the consciousness of this continued life. I may repeat that sentence by and by: “one world at a time is enough for me,” but it must mean all the world, not a part of it; the entirety of existence, not its mere primary department; it must be all of that which is within, around, beneath and above as well as that which is in the conscious human sentient being and frame that you now possess. I would give all the possibilities of many, many years and ages of my spirit’s existence if I could unsay any words that have influenced any in human life to disbelieve in the evidence of the future existence.
Take my message for what it is worth, for it comes from the great heart-throbs of that recollection that finds itself in possession of its life, of its weaknesses, of whatever strength it had, of all its faculties, of its great possibilities. So if at this hour I could wipe away the doubts and substitute the distinct inquiry that leads to knowledge, I would do it. I would not substitute faith, blind faith, any more than when I stood here four years ago; I would not substitute credulity, blind credulity, any more than I would then. But I would, substitute that attitude of mind that is willing to receive evidence.
I was offered evidence while here. I would not take it. I was met with a fraternal spirit that proposed to lead me to a line of investigation that would give me evidence. I did not accept it. Let no one say that I stultified my convictions; for I did not. But I was afraid to have convictions. If I had convictions, would I not be obliged to speak them? If they came to me as they have come to you, and you, and you, where would be the citadel of that boasted reason and intelligence which I had set up to distinguish between dark, false superstition, and the reasoning faculties of the human mind? But, oh! without knowing it I did shut out the evidence, I did close my mind to the receiving of testimony. I wished to stand free and untrammeled before the gateways of human life that I might help to destroy error and superstition. I saw those masterminds who had aided in destroying superstition, and I did wish to continue the onslaught against the theological errors which I believed held the world enthralled.
But oh! I saw not that which had opened to you, that vast plain of thought into which I did not enter. With all the possibilities of this grand truth, the light, the knowledge of life that has come to you (much that you accept or that is offered to you is not true). But rather than that your knowledge should be destroyed, I would leave it that the healthful growth may take the place of that which is unhealthful. I will not tear away the sacred vine and the precious fruitage of immortal life, if I must do so in order to take away the tares. You are intelligent, you understand, you know that there is the shadow as well as the light in all human life. But preserve this truth as Christians would the Bible; hold high, as they would, the sacred truth of Olivet, for such it is evermore; accept the allegorical language of that which comes to you as manifesting the knowledge of spirit existence.
Where am I? No limited space enchains me, no walls encompass me around about, no dim labyrinths of terror mock me, no limit appears before my vision. I feed upon the nectar and ambrosia of the gods.
Now where am I? In a realm so vast that I have seen, as yet, no boundary lines; a realm that stretches far and far away in all directions, peopled with lives, some of whom I have known on earth, some of whom I have known in dreams and visions, some of whom are the heroes of my imaginings, some of whom have been my familiar companions in the, works of poets, authors and dreamers of mankind. Where am I? No limited space enchains me, no walls encompass me around about, no dim labyrinths of terror mock me, no limit appears before my vision. I feed upon the nectar and ambrosia of the gods. But they are not gods of the heathen, or of Christian theologies; they are the dear ones of my household, the loved companions of my thoughts; those who, like me, have passed from the trammels of time and sense; and, like unto me, are seeking to tell you and teach you of their existence.
Alas! too often the dear ones fold the memory away, as carefully and sacredly as a lock of hair, or a keepsake, a sacred treasure trove at the altar of love, and say, “how good he was.” There is no “was.” It is: life is eternal, it is now, it is endless, it is indestructible, it is continuing to unfold, it will be the bearing of the message unto all eternity.
Have I visited other worlds? I know not. For the present I am here; I bask in the sunshine of that light that comes from within and above. I see around me on earth and in spirit thousands of spiritual beings who, like myself, are seeking to solve the problems of life. I offer you my congratulations that here is an open gateway, where there are no powers of fear, superstition and prejudice to separate you from that realm unseen. See to it that there are no barriers erected; see to it that this investigation is pursued in a clear and honorable manner; see to it that the pathway which the investigator would travel is made clear and plain; and, above all things, friends, at this hour, in this moment of my great secondary joy, when the first sadness and sorrow for the separation because of those I loved has been passed, let me enjoin upon you not to build these walls of sorrow between you and your loved ones. Think of it! Out in the world they say, “he has gone from human speech.” Often prompted by human errors of speech, you say, “he was with us four years ago.” How many days, and hours, and moments, through how many messages and impressions he has been with you since, you take little note of. Alas! too often the dear ones fold the memory away, as carefully and sacredly as a lock of hair, or a keepsake, a sacred treasure trove at the altar of love, and say, “how good he was.” There is no “was.” It is: life is eternal, it is now, it is endless, it is indestructible, it is continuing to unfold, it will be the bearing of the message unto all eternity. I that spoke to you then, I that am speaking to you now, I that will speak many more times through as many human lives as I can inspire, and approach as many brains as are amenable to my influence. I will speak and think thoughts as the product of this realm of intelligence forever.
What is the motive power I employ? I have no need for the torturous steam engine, or for the swift lightning stroke to bear my message. Thought itself is my message-bearer. I have built my mansions or palaces of thought. I have made them of such of my deeds as were worthy to be preserved in the kingdom of life. I make no boast of this. They are mine. If they are shadowed I am permitted to wipe out the shadow. If I have unfittingly pained any one I can remedy that by aiding that one. If I have done injustice to my fellow man through ignorance, I can gain knowledge and aid him.
I have no nation, I am a spirit, I live with all souls that are like unto me, I am fraternal with them.
In the great interests of human life I take part still; but it is the interest that leads thought-ward and soul-ward, not mammon-ward, not even nation-ward. I have no nation, I am a spirit, I live with all souls that are like unto me, I am fraternal with them. The boundaries or limits of human habitations, human races and human conditions affect me not, excepting as my loved ones are there. I believe in Humanity, in the great dominant, living, absorbing purpose of human life. I believe in the spirit of humanity. I have done with earth and earthly measures and devices. I know nothing about finance or war. I see nothing but shadow in the direction where the war clouds tend. I plead with you for the higher and nobler condition, I plead with you for the light that comes from poetry and philosophy and the living message of absolute life. Teach the people how to live, teach them the great knowledge of life.
May I bear my torch as one of the humble instruments in this great truth; as one who has seen no God face to face, no Satan starting out from any terrible region of bondage; but has seen the godlike human souls and those who have passed onward and upward into higher and more divine beatitudes. These I have seen and I must follow, and you must follow.
Oh, the great, surging, incoming tide of Life! It bears you upon mighty billows; it woos and beckons you by its crested arms and shining waves; it is the one eternal light and truth that must sanctify human love, must upbuild human aspiration, that must crown human hopes, that must set mankind free from the thralldom of error, and from the thralldom of the dust!
Knowledge and truth are offered to me. I stretch out my mental pinions for flights. If I falter it is from lack of knowledge. I stretch out my heart to include the world; if I falter it is from lack of loving kindness.
Oh, ye friends! unto whom this knowledge is given at this hour, I pray you turn with me to these immortal heights of light and promise, and thought. No heaven of glory, no fair region of pictured saints, no delightful paradise appealing to the senses can compare with this realm of supernal and perfect thought and truth. We are borne on its mighty pinions; we are not afraid of its great intuition; we are plumed for the flight into its eternal azure spaces of thought and truth. Every word that drops from the messengers of spirit life healing the brokenhearted, giving balm to the afflicted mind and breathing unto the mother and father, the husband and child the knowledge of this life, is a word that is sanctified and sacred from the altar of heaven.
Talk about sacred altars; there are none, excepting the altars of love; human love which uplifts humanity from the dull bondage of the senses and makes human lives worthy to be lived. Divine love, which cometh from the human soul when crowned with immortality, and bathed in the living splendor of that morning which shall never be shadowed, which shall never go down to the evening tide of sorrow, but shall forever and forever bear you on and on until the gateways of eternity open more and more refulgently, and then on and on and on forevermore!
The Progressive Thinker Sept. 8, 1900.
- Southern Cassadaga Spiritualist Camp Meeting Association is a community of spiritually minded people established in 1894. ↩︎