CHAPTER VII. - VISITING THE SCHOOL.

 

ANNIE, Sigismund and myself were now standing together on what at first appeared to me to be an open plain; and I shall describe to my readers this lovely landscape, as nearly as it can be through a mortal's hand holding the pen to write out my thoughts, the thoughts of my recollections, as they are projected by me upon the sensitive plate of the brain: for the person who writes is like one who stands upon the rainbow bridge, a medium, standing half-way between the two worlds, the connecting link between heaven and earth, one whose hand I now clasp after nearly half-a-century has passed.

 

O! solemn thought! The mother who has waited all these years, and but just consummated her first earnest desire or prayer; who, all these years, has been earnestly striving to obtain heavenly wisdom that she might be able to teach her loved ones, care for and protect them; for love and wisdom are of no value unless used for the benefit of earth and heaven.

 

O! treat your mediums well. Be kind to them, standing as they do half-way between heaven and earth; too spiritual to do hard battle with earth and material things; not yet freed from the body, therefore, often clogged and dragged down by it and their earthly surroundings. Treat them well. Uphold and encourage them. Shield them from inharmonious conditions, for their extremely sensitive natures instantly reflect the conditions around them, and if you drag them down by your own inharmonious states, do not expect they will clearly reflect heaven. The faults are with yourselves more than with the mediums. Do not yourselves destroy the conditions necessary to obtain wisdom, love, and happiness.

 

We stood upon an open plain, and the eyes could roam for long, long distances around. The ground beneath our feet was soft and

elastic. For a short time I sprang up and down upon it, somewhat as a child does when first sitting down on springs, merely for, the pleasure the elastic springing motion gave me. My feet, really, scarcely touched the ground at all.

 

The most exquisitely beautiful flowers were growing profusely around, more perfect and beautiful than any ever seen on earth) yet of the same species.

 

"The earth," said Sigismund, "rolls, as a nucleus, about five miles beneath us, and we roll with it. We are now within the first Spiritual Sphere which surrounds the earth, and this sphere rests upon the earth's atmosphere. Our atmosphere is ethereal and our earth spiritual. If you let your gaze rest downward for a short time, Mary, you will be able to see the earth," and he pointed downward.

 

I looked with eager curiosity, and at length could see the earth for many, many miles in extent; could distinguish numerous towns and cities, the ocean, forests, hills and mountains; but, oh! how dark, coarse, and ugly they looked compared with this beautiful, spiritual, ethereal world. They were heavy and gross while this world was light, airy, refined and exquisite. This spiritual earth did not obstruct our sight in the least. One could look through it as easily as one looks through glass.

 

"Glass is a very substantial substance," said Sigismund. "It will keep out air and water, yet one can see through it with ease. Our spiritual earth is substantial to us, yet we can see through it, but, unlike glass, we can pass through it as well. The spiritual particles composing it are so rare and transparent that they do not obstruct our sight, neither do they obstruct man's sight on earth, and that is the reason why he does not perceive anything between himself and other planets except his own atmosphere, which he is well aware does not extend very many miles in thickness about the earth. He looks through the spiritual world as one looks through glass, and would not know it was there unless he came in contact with it. A man looking through spectacles would not know they were on his nose if it were not for the rims and weight of the frame. The spiritual world can only be seen by spiritual beings."

 

I now raised my eyes from the earth, and let my sight reach out as far as possible into the spiritual world, and here also were beautiful cities, towns, forests, mountains, lakes, rivers, and ocean, all sparkling like jewels of light. Reader, if you have ever blown up a soap-bubble when a child, imagine something a little like it but exceeding it by many degrees in beauty; imagine this bubble ten thousand times ten thousand larger, filled with all manner of life, and you have but the faintest outline of that which I wish to convey of the atmosphere and landscape around me, as far as the eye could reach, and the earth as a dark, coarse nucleus. The coloring of this beautiful world was ten thousand times more beautiful than the colors within a soap­bubble or a prism. The colors of the rainbow are even gross compared with the coloring of this lovely land. Truly, it is the land of immortal and glorious beauty.

 

Earthly writers write romances of earth. O! let me write romances—true romances—of this heavenly country, where love never dies or grows weary: where youth is perennial and everlasting: where death or decay never enters.

 

A vast store-house of all things which take root and grow on earth, and then translate themselves here.

"Mary," said Annie, "we are now ready to go wherever you wish."

"I should like to visit all three of the places you mentioned," I replied.

"You can do so if you wish. You have only to decide which place you would like to visit first."

"Then I will visit the school where my little girls are. I greatly desire to know just how children are educated here in this beautiful world."

"Very well," she replied, and we started.

I did not follow after them this time, but was able to keep by Annie's side without much assistance from her. The short journey was so delightful that I must tell my readers about it.

We left the plain, and entered a grove. There were many kinds of trees within this grove, and all so exquisitely perfect that it was intense happiness just to look at them. There they stood in all their immortal beauty: the oak, the maple, the elm, the pine, and many others. A gentle breeze sweet and solemn anthems through their branches, and beautiful birds, perched among the green and perfect leaves, joined their musical notes in harmony with the sighing wind. Soft moss covered the ground like a carpet. All around were trailing vines and most beautiful woodland flowers. Nothing was crowded. All seemed to have plenty of room, and, of course, there was not a decaying leaf or twig, no prostrate rotting logs, everything was glowing and sparkling with fresh perennial beauty. All seemed to find their places by a natural law which I did not at that time fully understand—and do you, my dear sir or madam, understand the natural law that causes your oak, elm, pine, or the birds and flowers which are in your earthly groves, to grow and find their natural places, when you are disposed to walk therein? And I did not understand, as I now do, the laws which governed this beautiful spiritual grove. It was enough for me, at that time, to walk through it feeling the joy and happiness which it gave me, as a child of earth does when gathering its woodland flowers. The child laughs and sings as naturally as the trees and flowers grow, without questioning how they came there. If one were to ask the child, how they came there, it would look at the questioner in surprise, and answer: "Why, they grow here ": it was enough for me to know that all this beauty grew here naturally

 

Presently we paused by a rippling, singing brook. There was no hurry. Why should an immortal being hurry? The thought forced itself home to me, that eternity stretched for ever before me, and death nor decay could never more touch me. I felt a strong desire to sit down on this mossy bank, to rest and dream. Dream of what? Ah! rather to drink in all this beauty, to make it a part of my very life; and so we seated ourselves on the soft turf.

 

Annie and Sigismund had remained quite silent. Really, conversation was not needed. To breathe in this delightful life, and observe, was enough. As we sat there I saw many wild animals, but it surprised me no longer, for my mind had recognised the truth that all life, of whatever kind, was immortal, and lived here in this heavenly world as naturally as it had lived on the earth. I saw that the chain of analogy ran up into this world; that is, all life and beauty on earth had its root in the earth, and all life and beauty here had its root within the life and beauty which the earth produced.

 

As we thus sat dreamily gazing, I espied a tent across the brook among the trees, or, rather, as I soon saw, an Indian wigwam. A lovely Indian maiden came tripping down a little foot-path, smiling and beckoning to us.

 

"Shall we let Dancing-Water ferry us across?" asked Annie, turning to me, "or would you prefer to float over?"

 

The Indian maiden attracted me, and I replied: "O, we will let her ferry us across."

 

Annie waved her hand, and Dancing-Water stepped into a beautiful little canoe that was rising and falling with the mimic waves; a slight movement of her paddle sent the frail boat across; it touched the shore just at my feet. The lovely girl stood up in the canoe, her beautiful eyes fixed on mine.

 

"Ah! pale-face squaw, just come to happy hunting ground?" she asked. "Welcome! welcome! sweet sister!" and she threw a bunch of the most fragrant flowers into my lap. Going to little papoose's school over there? and she pointed toward the east.

 

"Yes," answered Annie. "This lady has two little girls at that school, and we are about to pay them a visit. You may ferry us across, Dancing-Water, if you please."

 

This beautiful Indian girl appeared to be about sixteen years of age. She had an oval face, with soft, lovely features; clear, brown skin; large, flashing, dancing, black eyes. Her thick, shining black hair hung down her back, nearly to her feet; her rounded arms and limbs were bare. She was clothed in a single short skirt, of what appeared to be a beautifully spotted leopard skin, together with a little sleeveless blouse waist of white satin. A bunch of red poppies rested on her swelling bosom. The canoe was like one of birch bark, lined with soft, white furs; there were two seats, which were like pearl, and the boat was strewn with the brightest and most fragrant of flowers. Her two little hands grasped the paddle, which was of ivory. Once or twice she took one of her hands from the paddle to throw kisses to me, while saying

 

"Welcome—welcome! sweet pale-face lady! Welcome to happy hunting grounds."

 

We were soon seated in the boat, and with a few dexterous movements she shot it across the stream. Thanking her, we waved farewell, and were soon gliding onward. We had not advanced far, when in the distance I espied a little group coming toward us, and as they drew near I perceived a young lady surrounded by eight or ten little ones.

 

"The children are coming to meet us," said Annie, with a smile.

 

And presently my two little darlings rushed toward me from out the band. I caught the youngest in my arms, and covered her little cherubic face with kisses, while Agnes, the elder, had grasped my hand, and was caressing it rapturously. Putting her little sister down, and kneeling, I smoothed Agnes's Curly, golden hair, embraced and kissed her fondly.

 

"O! my precious darling!" I said. "Mama has come to see you, this time. But where is Joey? Is he not with you?"

 

"Joey does not belong to this school," replied Agnes, "but we can go to see him whenever we want to, and he comes to see us.

 

Joey is in a school for boys: they are all older than we are, and learn different things."

 

Annie now introduced me to the guide, or teacher, of this band of little ones. She was a beautiful young lady, perhaps eighteen, clothed in flowing, spotless white, with large, soulful, violet eyes, soft brown hair, coiled smoothly and loosely at the back of her head. Her form was perfect: her movements graceful in the extreme. I noticed a beautiful brooch at her throat, which contained a miniature set with pearls. She gave me her hand in welcome, and a soft smile parted her sweet lips.

 

"We are very glad to see you, dear madam," she said: "and I hope you will be pleased with the care I have taken of your little ones."

 

My heart bounded toward her in love and thankfulness.

 

"Then it is you who have cared for and taught my little babes, who left me weeping and mourning over their cold dead forms? I thought their little souls had gone to be with Jesus. It is you, instead of Jesus, who have cared for them?

 

"Yes," she said softly, "it is I who have kept them with me in this little school. There are countless numbers of babes and children here in this world; they could not all be with Jesus. Thousands of young ladies, like myself, take charge of little children, guide and teach them. Each band usually consists of about eight or ten. I have, at present, ten with me, but two of the older ones will soon go to another guide, or school."

 

"Surely, I can never thank you enough!" I said, pressing her hand to my heart. "Can you understand the gratitude of a mother's heart toward the one who has cared for her little babes, whom she supposed were lost in the great maelstrom of death, when she finds them blessed, happy, and content with such a beautiful, angelic being as yourself?"

 

"Yes," she breathed, "I understand. I comprehend your mother heart, for I have visited you many times before you left the earth. I often took your babes to see their mother, not wishing them to forget you, and if they were lost to you for a time, you were not lost to them. They have visited you nearly every day since coming here to live with me."