A Beautiful Spiritual Revelation

Be to each other kind and true 

As you would have men be to you.

Heed not the scoffs and jeers of men,

Nor raise your voice to rail again;

But strive to lead a virtuous life,

Avoid all broils and sinful strife;

And love thy neighbour, lend him aid,

Thou’lt be rewarded God hath said—

And when thou leav’st this world of fate,

And enter’st through the mystic gate,

Amidst thy sorrows thou wilt sing 

Praise to the Great Eternal King,

The God of Earth and Lord of Skies,

Ever loving—just and wise.

Spiritual

A strange but emphatic revelation—

That the Lord had given and the Lord had taken away, and that for His will she had lived, and was now prepared to resign her spirit into His hands; then, with a smile upon her countenance, closed her eyes in death—

I have appeared by command of the highest powers to declare to the world the necessity of shrinking from the evils by which they are beset, and thus evade the sufferings they must endure at the hands of those they injure whilst living by not regarding the welfare and interest or looking with charity and sympathy of feeling on all their fellow creatures. I am the spirit of Ann Simpson who departed this life on the 22nd day of June 1827 in a secluded village in the county of Cambridge where I resided from my infancy and where on account of my disposition not to follow the dictates of the religious teachers by whom I was instructed, I was well known, and am still remembered; being hated by the rich and loved by the poor amongst whom I resided. As my career of charity is well known up to the period of my death, which occurred in my thirty-second year, I am only commanded to describe the sensation I experienced when quitting mortal life for immortality with my experience in entering the first sphere, and passage through it to my present abode, After a long and tedious suffering in which I experienced many privations, although I had given all my substance to those in need, yet few administered to my wants, and I bore the calamity with patience and resignation, knowing that the Lord had given and the Lord had taken away, and I praised His holy name. At length, as my strength decreased, I knew that the hour of death was at hand, and though I dreaded the sensation of its pangs, I had no fear as to the future, for I felt conscious that I had injured none wilfully and, therefore, resigned myself to the will of Him in whose presence I hoped shortly to be. I now felt a fainting sensation run through my body; a cold perspiration bedewed my face. My friends, who were with me, bent over me and, as if conscious that death had now stricken me, spoke kind and consolatory words but, though I heard distinctly, I was unable to reply. Another thrill of chillness seized upon me; my limbs became stiff and contracted; my eyesight left me; my ears filled with a sound as of the howling of a tempest; my breast heaved heavily; my heart turned cold and weighty, as if deluged with cold water; at the same instant, an explosive sensation occurred; a convulsive struggle followed, and the next instant all was over—the last pang had passed; pain had ceased, and troubles appeared at an end. I heard my friends utter the words, “She is dead,” and I endeavoured to assure them of the contrary, for my eyes were open and could perceive every object. I wondered at their assertions but was unable to make any reply. Still, however, 1 remembered the words; they sunk heavily upon my soul, but I did not understand my real position. As I lay reflecting upon the words I had heard, I felt myself removed from the place with a gentle hand, and at the same instant could see in every direction, and found myself passing through the air with the swiftness of lightning until I reached a place of darkness, which I cannot describe, where the most dismal and horrible sounds met my ears. I thought of the dreadful place of torment I had all my life endeavoured to evade. These thoughts, for the first time, assured me of my real position, and I knew that I was dead, and dreaded the experience I should undergo in the future, beyond the darkness. From this place, as if awakening from a dream, I found myself again in the room with my body, over which I wept, knowing it to be my own, and that to the world it was dead and motionless, yet I, a living perfect being, conscious of what had occurred and knowing that it must be returned to the earth to be no more seen. I, however, once more endeavoured with my will to raise the limbs but the effort was in vain and, as I stood weeping, I perceived standing by my side a female friend whom I had known in life and to whom I had administered necessaries and comforts when in need but who had died some four years previously. She led me from the apartment, endeavouring to console me, and told me that only for the dread of the future, she felt happy; then bade me farewell, but said we should meet again. I remained around and near my worldly home until the interment of my body; visiting familiar friends, but unable to reveal myself; flying from place to place at will, without making any physical effort. After remaining in this state for a time I am not able to describe, in which I met several friends who had departed before me, all of whom appeared happy but for the witnessing of the sufferings of others, and being compelled to assist in the administration of punishment on those whom they recognised as having suffered at their hands whilst living, without being enabled to hold communication with them—I again found myself within the darkness, where the horrible sounds once more reminded me of torment. After passing through this darkness, a scene of horror and confusion presented itself impossible to be described. Thousands of beings, some of whom I recognised, having known them whilst living, were yelling, howling, and screaming in the bitterest agony from the tortures they were inflicting upon one another, and I dreaded each moment's revelation. But, by following the direction of a light, the nature of which I do not have the power to describe, I found myself surrounded by groups of persons who were singing praises and rejoicing, and who came forward to greet me as I entered amongst them. Here I recognised old friends with whom I enjoyed indescribable happiness, for we are permitted to indulge in things corresponding with our lives upon the earth and the only barrier to our real happiness is that at times we are compelled to reproach those from whom we have suffered injury, whilst living, and continually witnessing the sufferings of others after we have thus far advanced through the first sphere of immortality—nor do we have the power to alleviate the sufferings or administer consolation to any beneath us. Still, we are at times permitted to visit the scenes of life, but having to pass through the tumult and strife, witnessing the miseries just described, it only adds to the mental grief and, therefore, seldom occurs. We all experience bitter anguish and reflection even here, and dread what the future state will be, all being aware of its existence. Therefore, let mankind take warning, for all must suffer, as there are none good, but the sufferings of those who lead a virtuous life whilst upon the earth will have no comparison with the sufferings of others whose lives have been spent in open rebellion to their Creator. Be assured, also, that loving kindness, charity, and sympathy of feeling will be rewarded in the world to come and instead of weeping and gnashing of teeth, there will be, for those who walk in the path of virtue, singing, rejoicing, and praising of God amidst the sorrows they feel at beholding the anguish others suffer who have lived lives mingled with follies and vices. Let all mankind remember that there is an everlasting existence in immortality, the beginning of which will be endured either in happiness or misery according to the natural or material lives of men—but we have no power to reveal anything beyond the sphere we inhabit, though all dread the future. My mission is now complete. Farewell.

A Message from the World of Spirits, J. G. H. Brown, Holyoake & Co., London, 1807