How did the world actually start?

There exists an eternal ocean of atoms, without beginning―or end, and countless and endless forms live and move and have their being within it.

This atomical ocean is infinite.

Earth's oceans are a finite and a small type of this atomical and infinite ocean.

This atomical sea is in three distinct parts.

Small, round globes―or atoms swim―or move within an infinite, ethereal sea, which completely surrounds each atom, so that no one atom absolutely touches another atom.

Although these atoms are slightly heavier and denser than the ether, which surrounds them, they are counterpoised and evenly balanced by a central point―or dot of pure magnetic flame.

Like the yolk within an egg, elastic translucent matter surrounds this amber flame.

This ethereal sea is composed of flame―or fire translucent matter―or solid substance―ether―or spiritual substance―flame, matter and ether.

Our finite earth is a type of the infinite, and is composed of fire, earth and water.

Out of this ethereal sea, the atomical sea―the sea of flame―springs forth all things that are―or have been―or ever shall be―suns and moons and stars―constellations and systems and zones of worlds―angels and archangels.

Within this sea, which extends throughout all space and time lie the germs of all possible things―the material out of which all existent things are formed, and it is the uniting―or marriage of the magnetic flame and translucent matter that gives birth to all form.

Small, round forms, in size and appearance like a goose’s egg without a shell, are all in rapid motion, thrown back and forth on the waves of the atomical sea―the first―or primary forms that exist within this eternal sea.

If you were to examine this conglomeration of atoms, in substance like a round ball of jellyfish, transparent and slightly tinged with yellow, you would see that this ball begins with one atom within the atomical sea, which attracts and holds atoms enough to form this ball―the first form―or nucleus of a sun.

The little magnetic flame―or point of fire within each atom attracts and holds together this ball of translucent matter, and keeps on rolling and attracting atoms and holding them until a globe is formed as large as the sun.

From a small nucleus, soft and warm, it grows to an enormous size by its constant revolutions and motions, and by attracting and holding atom after atom.

As it grows in shape and size, this ball hardens into the consistency of an apple―its own motion, weight and growth harden it―it is warm, for each little atom still holds its central flame, and the cold translucent matter is warmed throughout all this great mass, and bears its life, growth and heat within it.

This young―or primary world grows very rapidly―more rapidly than one would suppose.

It feeds and grows from outside sustenance, just as a plant―or animal does, and it constantly gathers the atoms, which are composed of magnetic flame and translucent matter, and appropriates them to its own use and benefit.

As it appropriates all the atoms within the atomical space where it moves, it creates a vast orbit for itself, for it still continues to roll where it can gather its food, and shuns that part of the sea, which has been deprived of its atoms―it attracts the atoms and the intact atomical sea attracts it.

This is the manner in which the first―or primary worlds create their own orbits, and at length, this immense globe, rolling within its vast orbit, ceases to grow.

It has reached a point in its career where it must drop a portion of its weight―it has become too weighty to hold itself any longer.

The law of attraction and growth ceases with it―its weight and rapid motion cause the outer surface to harden still more, but the inner part still remains soft.

It now presents more the appearance of an orange with its rind, the harder and softer parts being about in the same proportion.

As it yet revolves rapidly within its orbit, the inner part gradually loosens from the rind, and the inner part becomes loose.

The motions of the now two distinct bodies are not the same―the inner part being softer and warmer than the rind by its more rapid motion constantly drives off―or repels the rind.

As this primary world has two motions―the revolving on its own axis and the rolling in its rut―or orbit, it has become elliptical―or in the form of an egg, and the shell cracks all around its central part.

The intact globe within still rolls on, and for a certain period of time, the shell―or ring is still carried by the power of attraction along with it.

But there comes a time when the ring by its own weight and the constantly repelling motion of the central globe breaks in pieces and falls away from the inner globe.

The inner globe escapes entirely and still rolls on by itself.

At length, the broken ring is cast off from the inner globe, and by its own inherent power of attraction draws itself together at its central point and becomes an independent globe.

The rapid motion of the two globes now repel each other and keep each other at a proper distance, yet their power of attraction holds them firmly at this distance.

The ring, which has been cast off from the parent globe is of a harder and firmer consistency than the first globe, and as it draws itself together at its central point, its surface lies in great fissures and chasms―it cracks all in pieces.

Its position and orbit lie about midway of the space that has been robbed of its atoms, that is, it occupies a central position, and the first planet moves in a great circle around it.

The first planet’s orbit is constantly growing larger and larger, as it again goes on attracting atoms, and again adding to its own weight.

The planet will keep on revolving and throwing off rings until there are seven in all.

Each system of worlds has seven fundamental planets, and all the others are auxiliaries―or aids to the first―or primary worlds.

All space and time are filled with these worlds in their various stages of perfection and growth.

As planets pass the stage of reproduction, they become hard and dense, and move slowly than at first―their orbits become extremely large, and they cease to attract and hold atoms.

These have hardened and amalgamated, and planets settle down into a more metallic form, and now prepare for a new and more useful life.

These planets have no atmosphere―have never evolved water―have never had any light of their own, except the pale light of amber, which its inner light―or magnetic flame gives them.

They are composed equally of amber flame and matter.

These worlds, in their primary condition, appear to be in darkness, without any water, and are hard.

These are all now revolving in their own orbits within the vast space, which has been robbed of its atoms,* the first planet rolling on the outermost limits of this space.

*This space has only been robbed of its atoms, and they roll within an ethereal and germinal sea, for the ethereal and germinal sea remain intact―it is, as yet, only flame and matter that have coalesced and produced form in the shape of vast globes.

Each little atom is in the form of a globe―all creation is in the form of globes―or circles, and so all things run in spiral circles.

As the primary globe yields its magnetic flame, and becomes too dense to hold it―the flame cannot be compressed―these pale magnetic rays shoot out from every atom composing the body of the vast globe.

The globe condenses by its own motion and weight, and the flame is squeezed out it―something as one would take an orange―or an apple in one’s hand, and gradually squeeze it until all the juice was squeezed out of it.

These magnetic rays―or the spirit of the atoms composing the globe cannot enter into any other forms, for they are full and perfect in themselves, and as like attracts like by a natural law, they gather themselves together into a form by themselves, just like the globe they have just left―or been squeezed out of.

At length, every particle of magnetic flame has left the body of the globe and has gathered itself into a corresponding magnetic globe, and the two globes now lie opposed to each―or at opposite points―the magnetic globe rolling in the same orbit as the globe, which has yielded it up.

The dead globe is now black as night, and is a mass of carbon.

When the magnetic globe perfects and condenses to a proper consistency, it holds a powerful attraction for the magnetic globe.

The carbonic globe attracts great waves of magnetism from the magnetic globe―it sets the carbon on fire―there rolls a great and glorious sun.

Every ray of light and heat, which this sun throws off passes straight back to the magnetic globe, and they keep up the play for countless ages.

When the light and heat from the sun strike the magnetic globe, they are again changed into pure magnetic flame, and again thrown back in great waves, which bathe and set the carbon on fire at every point. 

The two globes roll on forever exactly opposite each other, both in the same orbit, and there is electric light―a sun. 

The magnetic globe is not visible to our material eyes, only the electric light―the light of the sun, which is in reality a dead world, and has yielded up its spirit, which has become its counterpart, and is an outgrowth of itself, which constantly sets it in a blaze of glory.

The sun has no atmosphere―it does not need an atmosphere. 

It is a first―or primary world, never intended for habitation, but to perfect and give light and heat to the secondary worlds to which it has given birth―the rings cast off from the body of the sun. 

In gathering themselves together at their central point, the surfaces of these globes lie in great fissures and yawning abysses, soft and uneven, without water―or atmosphere, turning on its own axis once in twenty-four hours, and the sun’s warmth and attractive power cause them to describe a certain pathway― or orbit of their own. 

These worlds are not destined to be suns, but worlds that are at length to be inhabited by man.

Now, as the sun has no atmosphere, and the globes have no atmosphere, the heat of the sun strikes the globes without any modification whatever, and its rays are hotter than red-heat, and the globes begin to bake and harden through and through.

The atoms, which make up a globe are composed of, first, a magnetic point of flame surrounded by translucent matter, and the composition of this matter is just one-half water. 

Each atom may be divided into three component parts―one-third magnetic flame, which is the pure spirit of the atom, one-third pure water, and the other third, solid substance, which is eventually to be chemicalised into everything that exists on earth.

Now, as this globe bakes, and gradually hardens in the sun’s scorching rays, every particle of water is baked―or squeezed out of each atom, and every part is baked through evenly and alike, and there being no atmosphere,  the water does not rise, but runs down into all the fissures and chasms, and the solid parts of all the atoms all become solid rock, baked like clay in a potter’s oven. 

But the magnetic flame of each atom still remains within each atom―it is only the fluid, which is squeezed out of the water―the spirit within each atom is still within it. 

The globe lies in a solid mass of rock and water, but the water is principally on the surface of the globe―or near the surface, so that it appears to be composed of vast bodies of water and comparatively smaller bodies of rock, yet its water is really only one-third of its bulk and only appears otherwise because it lies mostly upon its surface. 

The globe is actually rolling within the ethereal―or germinal sea, and is bathed in pure magnetism, as it passes to the sun from the sun’s magnetic counterpart.

Now a time arrives when atmospheric air evolves, and atmospheric air is one of the constituents of the water―each drop of water is one-third air, and the water and air separate. 

Water lies, smooth and glassy, all over the earth in vast bodies, the hot and jagged rocks rising up from its sterile grandeur. 

There are no winds to move the water―or to cool the rocks―no atmosphere to shield the earth from the awful heat. 

The water is at length heated to that degree that air is squeezed out of it, and it begins to boil and bubble through all its vastness―the terrible heat causes it to yield up its air, and there is nothing to hinder the heat from penetrating to its remotest depths. 

Now the globe is surrounded by hot steam―or vapour, and the waters keep on boiling and bubbling and throwing off hot air until the globe is surrounded by the hot vapour to a thickness of about three miles―or more. 

Now we have the earth composed of rock, water and air―or rather hot vapour―it is a compound of genuine air and water, for the escaping air carries a portion of the water along with it, but the water, being heavier than the air, gradually condenses and falls back to the earth in the form of rain, which continually washes away at the hot rocks. 

But water in and of itself is cold in its nature―it is only the unmitigated rays of the blazing sun that have caused this heated state of things, so the water gradually cools the heated rocks, and for ages it washes away until it forms channels and rivers in the sides of the rocks, and thus gradually washes and grinds the rocks into powder.

After an atmosphere has formed about the earth, the motion of the earth is more rapid than the atmosphere, and this causes immense currents―or terrible winds to blow. 

The winds disturb the magnetic and electric currents that are passing to and from the sun, and its counterpart. 

They strike as lightning upon the rocks, rending them asunder and splitting them into fragments and fissures, casting them right and left, hurling immense boulders of rock here, there, and everywhere―all destined eventually to bring about a more perfect and equal state of things.

The earth is now at that point in its career where it is composed of rock, water and atmosphere, but as yet, it has no ocean―the waters all lie in the deep fissures and awful chasms of the earth―the water is all at boiling heat and there are terrible winds and great whirlwinds and forked lightning constantly splitting the rocks asunder―the waters are continually lashed into dreadful fury, which gradually ground and powder the rocks. 

At length, the rocks are so levelled in places that oceans are formed by the water gathering into the places so levelled. 

As the rocks are powdered by all the rivers and streams cutting their way through to the more level oceans, for all things seek their level, the waters carry along the powdered rock, which is composed of minerals and sand―the minerals by the common law of attraction settle themselves in beds, but all things that are soluble in water, the water keeps, for these will eventually form fish, the first and lowest form of life, but ages must pass before life can make its appearance, even in the ocean, and it is within the ocean that life first makes its appearance―the sponge and jellyfish are the first forms that material life takes on, and even this cannot be until the waters become cool enough for them to exist. 

The waters at length become comparatively cool, the atmosphere somewhat clearer―it is the shielding atmosphere, which enables the waters to become cool.

The earth was much younger and nearer the sun than it is at present, for the earth, as it grows older and more perfect, recedes farther and farther away from the sun.

The ocean is gradually and constantly changing its bed, owing to the rotatory motion of the bed. 

At length, the atmosphere becomes clear and cool enough for moss to grow upon the rocks, and then small ferns―at the same time, the ocean and the waters have become alive with fish of all kinds, but all germs are within the atmosphere. 

The ethereal sea and the germinal sea within it are left intact. 

The earth’s atmosphere has not displaced the ethereal―or germinal sea, and the earth’s atmosphere is made up of dense atmosphere, ethereal atmosphere, and germinal points. 

As soon as moss can form upon the rocks, it is formed in this way―or primary primitive moss is, and we can observe it today, as well as any time, for it always forms wherever the surface of a rock decays in the slightest―tiny scales of rock raise themselves up a little from the surface, something in the form of irregular leaves, and the little flame of magnetic attraction, which, as we have already seen, has not left the atoms composing the earth, which at that period of its history was all rock, attracts and holds the lowest form of all germs―or moss germs, which are within the ethereal sea, and thence moss grows as rapidly, as time and seasons will allow. 

Now sponge within the sea is formed in the same way, but more rapidly, for it begins on the wet rocks and gathers sustenance from the sea. 

The germ of the living sponge is attracted in the same way, from out of the ethereal sea―or from out of the atmosphere. 

The germs of all things that live and grow are within the ethereal atmosphere, and they are invisible points.

As soon as there is gelatine enough within the waters, from dead and decaying sponge, it is washed here and there into little jelly-like masses, and in this higher form attract and hold the higher germ of the jellyfish. 

The jellyfish, within the warm waters, grow to an enormous size, and its substance by the constant washing of the waters become separated into the form of long arms and legs, something like the spiders, and there we have the ocean tarantula that still keeps up the same motion as the jellyfish, which it really is, and its long arms wind about and draw everything in their reach.

As the jellyfish grow and become old, these long arms drop off, but the living principle still resides within them, and these form great water serpents and enormous eels, which love to wallow in the bed of the ocean and suck their sustenance partly from the water and partly from the decomposed rocks. 

At the same time, the rocks that are not within the waters are forming moss―then within the moss spring up small ferns―at length, when these decay, they, in the moist, warm rains become gelatinous, and in this form attract and hold the lowest germs of animal―or insect life, and become enormous soft, pale yellow spiders―or tarantulas―the arms―or legs at last become so large they are broken―or thrown off, but still retain life within them. 

They become great serpents and smaller snakes and these crawl about over the rocks and hide in the fissures and chasms, suck at the decaying mosses and ferns and grow and increase in size. 

At length, the great sea serpents crawl up on the sands of the beaches and bask a part of their huge bodies in the rays of the sun, which harden them―or that part of them, which is out of the water, and as the sun hardens them, it also changes their colour from the colour of a jellyfish to a darker hue, and many at length become something like enormous alligators without tongue or teeth―they merely have the power of sucking, yet their food is still within the sea―at the same time, the great serpents on the land―or rocks, for there is no soil at this period become great lizards and these things are forming today just the same, modified by the cooler atmosphere.

At length, from the continual motion of the waters, the rocks become so powdered that seaweed and grasses appear, but the germs of these things in their various kinds still attract and hold from out of the atmosphere. 

On the land, the mouldering mosses and ferns form very thin soil, perhaps an inch―or two in thickness, and from this spring forth the fine low grasses, something like the buffalo grass, the mountain blue grass and buffalo grass are fair samples of this primitive grass, and they form today just as much as ever they were, with modifications.

The oceans, as before stated, and all rivers and streams are constantly changing their beds―as the oceans recede and change their beds, the immense quantities of seaweed, powdered rock and decaying jellyfish, eels and serpents form deep alluvial soil, and out of this springs up giant ferns, weeds, and various kinds of rank tropical vegetation, and they swarm with great snakes, eels, primitive alligators. 

Great whales also come to be. 

As the ocean recedes, the swamps are gradually drained, and the rank, decaying vegetation keeps on forming bed after bed of deep, rich soil―then spring up great forests of palm trees, and other kinds of trees, and after a while great forests of various kinds. 

As yet there has been no fire on the earth―the atmosphere is too warm, moist and thick with vapours. 

No bird can fly in the air―birds have not yet come to be―nothing, but the lowest forms of animal and reptile life. 

The first form of a flying insect is a mosquito, and they are enormous, inhabiting the marshes. 

Maggots form within the decaying offshoots of the jellyfish that are left on the shores, for these creatures hold life within them, and each germinal point becomes a maggot―the maggots become great flies, and now we have enormous mosquitoes and flies. 

A creature something like a stork springs from the mosquito. 

It is a soft, huge thing that can just flap its wings and jump from log to log―or mound to mound, and dive its great, soft bill into the waters, and fish out a wriggling eel―or water snake, which it immediately sucks down in its great maw. 

When its maw is full, it goes and perches high up, away from the water, for fear the wriggling things might escape, and the great thing sits stupidly for weeks until its maw is empty, and its food has been digested―then descending and drinking its fill of fresh water. 

It repeats the process over and over again.

From the flies come great buzzards that are not far removed from the primitive stork. 

As the ocean recedes, and still recedes, it leaves great sandy deserts, and now a period is reached in the earth’s career when it is made up of great rocky mountains, great sandy deserts, interminable marshes and tangled forests seemingly without end.

The oceans keep up a continual encroachment upon the mountains one way, leaving great marshes and sandy deserts the other way. 

After ages pass, the highest peaks of mountains become the beds of the waters, and thus it is that soil, vegetable, low animal life, and the most primitive form of birds first come into being.

The lives of all these creatures at this time are very long―many of them live for a hundred years―the whale, the stork, and many of the great serpents, and now as these creatures wander―or are left by the tide out on the sandy deserts and plains, their natures gradually change, and by the action of the sun, they harden. 

All these lower creatures hold the male and female elements within each one―they have not yet separated and become two distinct forms. 

The lowest forms of serpents have no lungs. 

They have no eyes. 

Now, until a creature has a very small lung developed, it cannot attract the germinal points from the atmosphere, but draws its life, as the jellyfish does. 

Neither has it any blood. 

But flies and mosquitoes develop a very small lung and attract and hold the germinal points, and these develop eggs. 

Now comes a time when eggs are laid and hatched. 

The stork scoops out with its long bill a shallow hole in the hot sands and deposits its eggs into it. 

The fishes begin to spawn in the waters, but these fish are not like the fish of today―they are enormously large, and of a soft, primitive kind that hold the male and female principles in one―the first form of crocodile life is the same, and they lay their first eggs in the hot sand. 

Their eggs are innumerable―the sands are literally filled with them, and as they hatch, the male and female principle take a step in advance, and they hatch equal numbers male and female―each germinal point separates its male and female principle into two forms, but these forms hatched from the hot sands are smaller, harder and more perfect, and have developed lungs, as they grew, and consequently red blood. 

And the spawn within the sea is the same―it hatches smaller and more perfect fishes, male and female, with colder red blood, and the lungs are in the form of large gills. 

Gradually, a regular vertebrae and bones are formed.

As time goes on, great elephants roam the forests and over the plains. 

The mastodon wades in the swamps. 

The camel treads the hot sands. 

Then the great lion and bear appear, the eagle and the ostrich, the ape and the gorilla.

The earth has now become cool enough for man to make his appearance, and presently, from the highest form of gorilla, walks forth a dark, hairy, squat savage, with long arms and a giant in size. 

He carries a club and wields stones with which he kills birds, animals and serpents. 

He tears them in pieces with his long claws and teeth, devouring them fiercely, with gleaming eyes, for lungs, eyes and blood depend on the atmosphere to sustain them.

Now we have man in his lowest―or primitive form.

Oceanides―A Psychical Novel