In setting down some of the experiences of my fourscore years, I have done so at Red Cloud’s request in order to “leave behind for incoming generations a great reality to comfort the mourner.” The reality to which he refers is, of course, eternal, that we cannot die because our spirits are immortal. For that reason the greater part of this book is devoted to examples of evidence of survival, for without acceptance of this central fact the whole edifice of religious faith must fall down.
The teaching of Jesus, Buddha and of all the world’s religious leaders is meaningless if this concept is not upheld. Without it, the only philosophy open to us is “Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die,” which is surely the outlook of grim despair. By contrast the truth of survival floods the mind with light and warmth.
It opens up an endless vista of glorious life, a perpetual expansion of the consciousness, each advance bringing enhanced love and happiness as we travel along the road to Perfection. We no longer mourn for the dear ones who have left us, for we know that they live and we shall meet again. We no longer fear death and disease for ourselves, for we know these are but temporary conditions and that we shall re-awaken to a new life in a perfect body.
Many people fear the actual moment of the death of their bodies. Yet they have no need to do so. I have many times seen death occur, and know it to be no more than falling asleep. I sat beside my mother’s bed when she lay dying. In her last moments she was in a semiconscious state, and I knew she had something to say.
Summoning up the last of her strength, she spoke and, in speaking died. Whether she realized it or not I do not know, but she completed in death what she had begun to say in life and I heard her last words by clairaudience.
Again, ten years ago, I was in the presence of death when my husband, Charles, died in my arms. Steadfast in the knowledge of his own survival, he had no fear of death and his last words to me were of gentle reassurance. A few days later his body was cremated. As the coffin slowly withdrew into the inner chamber of the crematorium, I saw him and his cousin, Dr. Charles Gordon-Moore, standing arm-in-arm, smiling at me.
The truths of Spiritualism, which I have always striven to pass on to others who mourned, now brought me comfort in my turn. During Charles’ long illness I had given up my public work in order to be with him, for he so hated me to be away from his side. Inevitably his passing left a great void in my life,
but fortified by the knowledge that he lived beyond death I returned to the practice of my mediumship following an interval of only two weeks. After three years absence, I returned to the public platform, eager again to demonstrate to all who would learn the truth of life after death.