Chapter IV: Zencollia City and Its Surroundings

Shall I speak of my surroundings in the Summer-Land? Shall I tell you of the beautiful city that we in the eternal world call Zencollia,—meaning, literally, “city of light,”—so called from the brilliant rays which are reflected back from its towers, minarets, and gleaming walls when the sunlight falls upon them? The spires and towers of this beautiful city gleam in the distance as I am seated by my eastern window. Its white walls, glistening with alabaster-like spotlessness, seem to tell of purity and peace.

A TEMPLE OF LEARNING.

Amid that wonderful array of exquisite workmanship a brazen temple arises, its massive dome seeming to crown the structure with a coronal of living light. This grand temple I have visited in company with dear brothers who have gained a comprehension of truth and knowledge in the wisdom-schools of spirit life, and who have become familiar with the interior of this shining temple from frequent attendance upon the instructive lectures delivered therein. The temple of learning in Zencollia is the most massive building I have ever beheld. It is surrounded by an open space paved with delicate pink and white tiles of shining, translucent stone. A flight of variegated marble steps leads to the vestibule, which is also paved with pink and white tiles.

The building contains four spacious halls, the finest of which is dedicated to Science, the second to Literature, the third to Metaphysics, and the fourth to Music. Each hall is furnished with roomy seats for the accommodation of the audience; a raised platform at the farther end, upon which stands a marble table, and a cushioned seat, something like a capacious sofa, serves for the accommodation of the speakers or instructors.

The floors are all paved with variegated marble,—white, streaked with delicate pink and sea green; the pillars are of carved ivory; the walls are adorned with beautiful paintings, representing some illustration of the nature of the work to which the hall is dedicated; while the lofty ceilings are frescoed in the faintest azure, white and gold.

One of my companions, a student in the hall of science, was eager for my admittance there as a spectator, which was soon obtained. At the time of my visit the seats were filled with a throng of people, young and old, and of both sexes. The lesson was on the laws of chemistry; and the speaker, a gentleman apparently forty years old, but whom my brother assured me had been in the spirit world many decades of years, had a number of strange-looking instruments before him, with which to illustrate his theme, and to prove the truth of his theories by experiments.

“Do you notice that gray-haired gentleman in front, the one with the high forehead, whose penetrating, searching gaze seems to be taking in every movement of the speaker?” whispered my companion. I nodded assent.

“That is Michael Faraday, the scientist; and I tell you he is as earnest a student as any of us; he attends all our conventions. He has been invited to take part in the exercises, but declines, preferring to study rather than teach. Oh, I tell you, Sis, a good many of earth’s smartest men come here or go to other places to learn, when they reach spirit life.”

The lesson of the day was very instructive, and the experiments interesting; but as they were new to me, and far advanced, I did not understand them very well.

“I’ll tell you what, Miss Ammidown,” said brother J., playfully, as I expressed my amazement at some of the results of the professor’s experiments, “I’ll bring you here when we have a lesson on Electrical Life, and you shall see the teacher produce some most wonderful results without the aid of instruments. You look incredulous; but, Kitty, that is only because you have been used to earthly, material instruments. Here we can make use of the currents of electricity without any such adjuncts. You shall witness some of my own private experiments some time. You have a great deal to learn yet.”

And, indeed, I felt like a child who had just entered into the wonderful arena of knowledge, and saw spread out before her strange sights, and heard strange sounds, which she could not comprehend, but which seemed deliciously clear and interesting to those around her. This was long ago, but the feeling clings to me yet; and I feel there is so much to learn and understand, one can never be idle.

HALL OF METAPHYSICS.

To the Hall of Metaphysics we wandered. Here the speaker was a female; but although the ideas she expressed were grand and beautiful, the language with which they were clothed was almost too abstruse for me.

“I brought you here, dear sister,” said my companion, “not because I expected you to understand the proceedings; you are too familiar with earthly expressions for that as yet; but that you might visit a place where those filled with lofty ideals concerning the soul, and its relations to life, meet to exchange thoughts and to learn of each other. Emerson[4] will delight to frequent this place when he comes over to our side of life. We have scores of other places,” he continued, “where such teachers as Theodore Parker, Channing, and hundreds of like noble souls, hold forth with earnest utterance for the lifting up and sanctification of the people. These you can understand; and their teachings are generally delivered in some airy chamber or leafy grove, where all the surroundings and conditions are conducive to the worship of God. You will visit many of these with those who love you.”

Footnote 4:

This was written some time before Ralph Waldo Emerson ascended to the
higher life.

THE HALL OF LITERATURE.

We did not tarry long in the Hall of Metaphysics. The teacher was grandly beautiful, clothed in flowing robes of classic style; her speech gently modulated; her gestures graceful; her mien earnest and convincing; and to those who understood she appeared to furnish a feast of good things. I felt humbly penitent, because I could not comprehend the whole; observing which, my guide hurried me away to the Hall of Literature.

Here I could appreciate, for I understood. The services were conducted by a number of men and women, who favored us with sketches of real life, not published, but what they had themselves witnessed; also readings from eminent authors, bits of rare, descriptive power, rich delineations of gifted writers, with extracts from their productions; followed by expressions of gorgeous imagery and brilliant passages of poetry. Here I was deeply interested, and the more so, because my companion pointed out to me the presence of gifted men and women, whose works I had admired and read on earth with never the hope of meeting them in person.

THE HALL OF MUSIC.

But I must hasten. With all the wonderful things I had seen and heard, what shall be said of the Hall of Music? The whole front of this spacious hall is a raised balcony, upon which the performers and choristers are generally seated.

Here we were joined by a dear sister, who I shall designate as May; like the May-flowers, she is beautiful and sweet; and hand clasped in hand, in silence,—and so far as I was concerned, in awe,—we listened to the enchanting strains of music evoked from stringed and keyed instruments, by the skillful fingers of their manipulators; and to the deep, rich tones, or bird-like, thrilling notes of the singers’ voices. I can never describe it. What I have said is but a faint type of all I witnessed in that marvelous temple; but the music!—the music was so grand, so powerful, so uplifting, and yet so sweet, so subtle, so enchanting, that I seemed floating away, with no thought but to soar upward to the very throne of Life and Love.

All petty affairs of life, all outward sense of existence melted away; and in the pure atmosphere of that celestial melody, my soul asserted itself in all its purest aspirations for the perfect completeness of life.

I love Zencollia for its divine harmony of sweet, inspiring music; and, oh, dear ones I love on earth, could you have been with me in spirit, my bliss would have been complete.

SOCIAL LIFE IN ZENCOLLIA.

In walking through the streets of beautiful Zencollia City, I have observed the perfect freedom of its inhabitants, the undisguised manner of living, the open frankness, and the confidence each one seems to repose in his neighbor, and also the unceremonious hospitality of each household; for every passer-by is welcome to enter, rest, refresh himself, and examine whatever excites an interest in his mind.

I have noticed this, because at first it appeared very strange to me—so at variance with the customs of mortals, who shut themselves up in their homes, becoming sometimes exclusive and ceremonious in their bearing toward others.

But I have learned that while it would be unwise and unsafe for mortals to leave their homes open to the inspection of every curious passer-by, and imprudent in the extreme for them to invite every stranger into their households, it is perfectly safe to do so in the spiritual city Zencollia, whose inhabitants are pure and spotless, who have become purged from all gross and carnal appetites and habits, who do not gossip and slander, who love each other, whose families are bound by the closest ties of tender sympathy and affection, and whose lives are so pure, so devoted to the welfare of others, they have nothing to conceal.

Every home is a shrine of prayerful praise; every family bows at the altar of Infinite Wisdom; each inhabitant has some lesson to repeat, or some experience to rehearse to the new-comer into these high spheres, that will be a guide to his feet; every habitation contains something of interest to the stranger who may have but recently ascended to the upper courts of Zencollia. And there is no risk in entertaining the stranger; for no impure, selfish, worldly-minded spirit can enter Zencollia; he could not breathe its refined atmosphere, the brilliancy of its light would blind him. For while it is true that exalted spirits can descend to lower spheres or conditions, where grossly-minded intelligences dwell, surrounded by the darkness which their mental state throws off, and there minister to the necessities of those earth-bound souls, yet it is as impossible for those spirits to _ascend_ to the upper heights as it is for mortals to pierce the heavenly worlds with their material bodies; for as the physical keeps you down to earth, so the weight of passion keeps those spirits down.

Therefore, no impure spirit enters Zencollia, and none who dwell there fear to entertain the stranger, for all the inhabitants of that celestial city are possessed of clear vision, and they can readily read the interior thought and desire of whoever comes within their sphere.

The dwellers in that happy city associate together in groups, all working for the common good; each obeys the law which all assist in framing; everyone contributes to the welfare of the people, the beautifying of the city, the maintaining of free, open schools of instruction, and in upholding a good government.

I have often thought of the beauty and glory of this sweet life, wishing that I could cause mortals to view it as I do,—to view and to emulate, to bring down something of its happy conditions to earth; for then there would be no need of prison-walls, no cause for corporeal punishment, but love and justice would reign supreme, and the millennium, long foretold by prophet and seer, dawn upon the new earth.

INTERIOR VIEW OF ZENCOLLIA.

Zencollia, “City of Light,” the sight of thy white walls, gleaming in the distance, recalls a vision of thy beautiful streets, so unlike the city streets that mortals know. No jarring noise disturbs the serenity of thy places; and yet the ceaseless murmur, the ever-present appearance of active, energetic life within thy limits, proclaim that therein is found sentient, individualized, conscious existence.

The edifices so beautifully constructed of shining stone, artistically adorned with carvings of exquisite grace and symmetry, do not crowd and elbow each other for want of space; but each building stands within its own enclosure, surrounded by garden plats and banks of emerald green. Lofty trees, whose umbrageous foliage furnishes a cooling shade, are scattered here and there, giving an aspect of natural beauty to the scene. The very streets, though paved through their centres with polished stones, are fringed on either side with grassy leaves and nodding flowers, which no careless foot seeks to trample down.

And yet, it is a city, vast and magnificent. Its massive buildings, its countless inhabitants, all mark the difference between it and the town or country. At regular spaces, great plats, enclosing flowery beds of every variety of color and perfume; tiny lakes and gushing fountains; gleaming pavilions, furnished with rustic seats and tables; small groves of shade trees, tiny grottoes and fairy glens, where birds make music through all the sunny day—are kept under constant care and cultivation for the enjoyment of all who wander therein; and it is no uncommon thing for groups of harmonious spirits to gather together in one of these gardens, and spend an hour in that communion of soul expressed in the singing of hymns, the exhortations from inspired lips, or the encouraging words given from one to another, that lift the spirit still nearer the Infinite Light that pervades in some measure all space and permeates all life.

A CONVOCATION OF WOMEN.—EQUALITY OF SEX.

I have recently attended a convocation of women, in one of these city gardens, earnest, noble, true-souled women, who met together to discuss plans and devise measures for the welfare of their sister-women upon the earth. They had gathered together to send forth their silent, penetrating, uplifting sympathy toward those who are crowded almost out of existence, either by the pitiless hand of poverty, or shunned and scorned because of the unfortunate lives circumstances have compelled them to lead.

In the realm of spirit, our societies are not confined to one sex; there is no exclusiveness; woman is not considered incompetent to discuss the questions of life with her brother. Men do not meet in club or barroom, to revel in scenes they would blush to have their sisters witness, neither do women have their sorosis, that the gentlemen cannot enter, or sewing-circle, where gossip and slander—those tender tid-bits so delicious to some tastes—are woven into the garments they fashion, with their pernicious and malicious influence.

Each convention, every organization is founded upon the polished square of Equality, and membership is freely extended to male and female alike; thus rounding out the perfect circle of harmonious life. But this convocation of which I speak, composed entirely of women—tender, helpful, loving women—who have witnessed the struggles and the sorrows of those dear children of humanity, whom mortals consider lost, but whom angels know shall yet be redeemed to honor and virtue, was called together because it had become evident to thinking minds that the so-called Progress of Humanity will remain but a sham, until society awakens to the fact that while one outcast remains outside the closed door of fraternal sympathy, while one poor sufferer is refused the helping hand or kindly word, to encourage her onward toward the highway of goodness, it is an agency of intolerance, and unworthy the name it bears.

And so, out in the bright, clear air, with the radiant sky above their heads, the flowery sod beneath their feet, where the grand old trees chanted their anthems of glory, as the breeze swept through their branches, these spirit women met, and with earnest faces and solemn words, dedicated themselves to the high mission of going one by one out into the material world to sow seeds of love and good-will in the hearts of mortals,—going forth from their beautiful spirit homes as teachers to humanity; and the one little lesson, so easy to read, so hard to remember and weave into practical life, which they seek to implant in human hearts, is this: “Judge not, but extend the friendly hand, the kindly word and smile, even more if you can, the cup of water and the meal of bread, to the poor unfortunate, whose life is bowed beneath the weight of its own mistakes, and who bears more punishment within the soul than you can dream it possible for one to endure.”

And so, from out the company of that heavenly band, whose influence stills all commotion, whose presence breathes a blessing of comfort and peace upon the passing spirit, I come to you today, dear reader, and in the tones of love say unto you of earth: “Oh, cultivate the truly Christ-like principles within you; develop the germs of benevolence, charity, patience, sympathy, and kindness, and let them flow out from your souls toward all those—whether male or female—who tread the paths of sorrow or vice, until like a cleansing flood they roll in waves of light over their sin-stained souls. Be just; give unto every soul the full measure of love that you would crave for yourself! Then shall the age of humanity become indeed a golden age, the fruitage of which will shine forth in noble lives, in redeemed lives, and in progressive lives; and society so blossom under the developed influence of Love and Sympathy as to shed its wealth of fragrant beauty over the hearts of all humanity, and every soul be known by the endearing name of brother or sister.”

DWELLERS IN ZENCOLLIA.

The dwellers in Zencollia are calm, peaceful, happy souls, who, having known the cares, the sorrows and the temptations of mortal life have, through their earnestness, through their aspirations, risen above all the annoyances of external things, and grown into harmony with the law of Love, which is the law of God. Associating together in bands of fraternal sympathy, they spend their time in devising ways and means to alleviate the condition of those bowed down by woe and suffering, to enlighten the ignorant, comfort the distressed, and free the imprisoned soul from error’s bondage, whether it be encased in mortal flesh, or dwelling in darkness of spirit.

They have founded schools of learning, colleges, where eminent teachers in the various branches of knowledge preside, and give forth their wisdom to the seeking mind, drawing forth and developing all the deepest, fullest powers of comprehension, and awakening all the noblest faculties of the student.

Investigation into the realms of Natural Law proceeds with minute exactness; experiments which test conclusions as to the cause, utility, and result of chemical and electrical forces are carried on; and schools are constantly sending out graduates, whose duty it is to search earnestly among the children of earth until they find minds capable of receiving, brains enlarged by earnest thought and study, competent to grasp and elaborate the ideas the spirits give, in order to convey to earth a practical demonstration of their experiments and investigations.

Such is Zencollia—happy, peaceful, industrious city of light; and as I gaze upon its glittering walls from my casement, I seem to feel a pulsating thrill, emanating, as it were, from its center, of good will to man, coursing through my being, until I become one in sympathy with the divine mission of its dwellers, which is, love toward God, manifested through love and helpfulness toward all creatures, all things.

This is but one of the many cities of that spirit country, that no thought can measure, no being scan. It is dearest, because nearest to me; yielding light, instruction, soul-sustenance to myself and to those I love. But there are countless other cities as glorious, peaceful, and ennobling, of which I shall speak in future pages. Among them may I mention Spring Garden City, home of intellect, philosophy and truth; Harmonial City, abode of wisdom, purity, and peace; Washingtonia, within whose walls dwell knowledge, justice, and freedom; and many another that presents a beautiful record of noble lives and enduring deeds, that shall outlast all perishable evidence of grandeur!—for they are engraved in spirit, and can never tarnish or decay.

Oh, darling friends in mortal, from the boundaries of that sweet city of light, we waft you spirit-greeting, love that shall know no change, sympathy that outlives all outward separation, and only grows the sweeter; peace that the world can neither give nor take away, and which passeth all understanding.

A SUBURBAN VIEW.

I have told you of the beautiful city of light, so near my spirit home; let me now speak of the natural surroundings upon which I may continually gaze in an ecstasy of delight from my western portico, or where I may roam at will, filled with the bliss of knowing the truth of existence, and its enjoyment among the beautiful works of Nature, that kind mother of us all, who brings her sweet offerings of waters, woods and flowers, birds and insects, mountains and hills, for the gratification and pleasure of humanity.

Close beside the home I inhabit a sweet vale lies, decked with fertile meadows and sunny glades, watered by glistening streams and rippling brooks, shaded by magnificent oaks and elms, and gemmed with starry flowers of every hue and of delicious fragrance.

Thickets of roses, blooming in rich profusion, dot the landscape here and there—roses independent of limited days and weeks, but which blossom on from day to day, one bud bursting into beauty after another, and no one left to bloom alone.

A grove of giant pines make music through this leafy vale, as the breezes sweep through their rustling branches; the carol of birds, the hum of insects, the rippling of waters, and the music of murmuring breezes, all combine to form a sweet harmony of sound, that, blending with the pure harmony of beautiful scenery, brings rest and peace to the souls of all who linger here.

Sweet spirit vale! dear Auburndale! for such I love to call you; within your borders, in sweet communion with God and Nature, the soul becomes purged of all material impurities, and grows into closer harmony with the sacred laws of being—Love, Sympathy, and Purity.

Away in the distance rises that majestic pile which to me is Mount Lookout; and as the sunlight rests upon it in gorgeous splendor, I know that upon my earthly home the sun is slowly sinking, in lines of rose and purple glory, behind the western hills.

Who could dream of pain and sadness amid the sunny sweetness of this enchanting vale? And yet, even here sometimes comes from a-far a sound of distress and anguish, brought plainly to our spirit ears by the waves of sympathy that surge within our souls; and we hear the wails of pain welling up from earth life, and mark the signs of devastation and distress bearing down upon the friends in mortal.

But why is this? Because from the depths of human suffering, pain, and death, that we see around us, a heavenly sympathy is born within our souls, and we become desirous of helping those in need, a sympathizing pity, prompting us to extend the cord of love we hold, until it encircles and draws upward, into realms of ineffable peace, the storm-tossed spirits in pain.

Disasters come to earth—conflagrations, misfortune—and from them often result suffering and death; but, glory to Him who rules! from the midst of these scenes of sorrow arise pure streams of helpfulness, strength, and succor for the distressed, that not only enriches the receiver, but also overflows with sympathy and blesses the soul of the bestower.

Up from the surging billows of distress, out of the fiery furnace of affliction, arises the pure Spirit of Love, cleansed by its contact with water, or refined by its passage through fire—noble, enduring, true—growing stronger and better from its upward flight, seeking as it goes the sympathy of angels, who, looking downward from the upper heights, send forth the sustaining cord of affection to draw the spirit upward, singing as it arises this grand refrain refrain—

“Nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee;
E’en though it be a cross that raiseth me.”

MY HOME; ITS LIFE AND ASSOCIATIONS.

The home I inhabit in the Celestial Sphere would appear to mortals as a large, spacious, white mansion, surrounded by porticoes, verandas, and the like, the doorways opening upon a scene of surpassing loveliness; for there Nature wears her richest robes to beautify external life.

The interior of this habitation you would observe to be divided into various apartments, each furnished with appropriate furniture and hangings, the whole designed to harmonize in a perfect blending of form, color, and texture, pleasing to the eye and restful to every sense of the beholder.

We have private apartments of our own, where, when in need of mental repose, silent study, or deep meditation, the spirit may retire, apart from all companionship save that which breathes through every breadth of space—the presence of its God.

There are times in every life when it is best to be alone, when the spirit requires silent, undisturbed self-communion, when outward presence is an intrusion upon the soul; and at such times we are privileged to retire to our own private sanctum, unquestioned and not misunderstood by others.

In my pleasant spirit home there is a quiet nook, where I love to retire and ponder over the great problems of life constantly unfolding themselves before me; and there, surrounded by the beautiful in nature and art, natural flowers climbing over marble statuary, singing birds making music beneath some exquisite painting, I strive to unravel the seeming mysteries of existence; and not in vain, for to the earnest seeker after truth there comes a flood of light, illuminating the dark places and answering all silent questioning.

But my home contains apartments where sociability reigns, and there a happy band of spirits daily congregate to amuse, instruct, and bless each other; there, social converse, mingling with the recital of some experience, lesson, or advice, pleasant faces and loving hearts, fill the place with that harmony and peace only to be found where spirit meets spirit in sympathy and appreciative kindness. Eight of us, all young souls, meet together hour after hour, bringing each one his or her store of acquired knowledge, or displaying his or her ignorance upon any theme, only to have it dissipated by some new truth revealed to our understandings by others. We are never unhappy, never restless, never idle. In earthly experience others are far younger than myself; but in spiritual love and life I am the youngest of them all, and it refreshes my soul to partake of what those I love have to offer in the way of acquired knowledge.

This is a sample of group-home-life in the spirit world; a band of loving, earnest spirits, whose highest ambition is to become great in knowledge, that they may understand the laws of life, and thereby be able to avoid mistakes, and competent to transmit a light and knowledge of life to poor, darkened, misguided souls, who moil in sorrow and pain. The members of these groups or bands are guarded and protected, instructed and upheld, by wisdom spirits, who, having dwelt in mortal until the physical ripened naturally for the change, passed on to enjoy the fruits of their experience, and, having dwelt long in the spiritual, are competent to guide and instruct these young souls bound to their own by the ties of soul-affinity, as well as those of consanguinity, yet confined by no arbitrary laws that chain and restrain the higher emotions; thus our lives flow smoothly on, and each moment of existence brings us some new lesson, or some new opportunity of being of use to some one of the many spirits who walk the paths of sin or suffering.