I, the great agnostic, am dead—
I tell you—
Burned up—
I, plain, simple Robert, stand here with scarcely a leaf to cover me.
I am trying to do myself justice by telling the truth, as you see.
Do you want me to go on with a lot of flowery falsehoods?
Where are you?
Neither in heaven—Nor in hell—Nor yet in purgatory.
One on either side of the before-mentioned sensitive—
I am learning how to write—
This good Herr Franz teaching and aiding me.
I am now laboriously trying to write—sans hand—sans paper—without pen and ink—laboriously trying to learn how to write on an entirely different kind of parchment—the quivering brain of a person still in the flesh—a sensitive.
To do this, I must first get my own thoughts clear, concise and positive—
The more positive I am, the better the reflection, for then my thought—becoming tangible—is reflected—or imaged—on my sensitive plate—
The spiritual brain of my sensitive or material medium.
Remember; I am new at the business, so do not expect too much, but say, as my earthly teacher did—
Robert, you are doing very well—
Persevere.
My present teacher smilingly says to me pretty nearly the same, so let not those who do not understand this, cavil, sneer and say—
This clumsy effort is not worthy of the great agnostic.
Just simply say, as I used to about this, I do not know.
I do not know—
Then go at once and try to find out.
Find out.
Try to find out, I say.
Try to find out!
You will never hear Robert G. Ingersoll say again—
I do not know; I do not know, without adding, but I will go and find out; so go you and do likewise.
Find out.Find out.Discover.
You may have to sail away from your former moorings, or ideas, but there is land ahead—be sure of that.
You will soon discover a new country—
A new continent not yet known to the greater part of the old world—
Struggle on against all opposition—Behold! the evidence is directly before you.
You do not mean to tell us there is a God—
A Christ who is the Son of God—
A Hell—
A Devil—
Immaculate conception—
Fre and furnace—
And all the rest of it—
The wretched dogmas you used to fight so valiantly?
You are a regular warrior.
You do not mean to say that you have succumbed to all this at last?
When you ask me if there is a Hell, I answer—No.
When you ask me if there are many hells, I answer—Yes.
There are as many, as there are broken laws and erroneous opinions, and some of these hells are about as hot as they can be.
There is not an error here—or on the earth—but is being consumed, as rapidly as possible, in the burning hells, which they create for themselves—otherwise, they would endure forever.
I cannot fight the churches very much more on the hell question, for liars, deceivers, robbers, murderers, drunkards, libertines, are all—
All in the hottest kind of hells—
Those who yield to every vice and error—or cherish them—are in hells to correspond.
The only point of difference now is that the spirit of man has the power of ascending out of its hell—
Whenever it is disposed to cast off its errors—Walk hand-in-hand with good—or God—which is one and the same thing.
Then you admit that there is no God?
No; I do not admit anything of the kind.
No one can cast God out and be either good or happy.
You do not mean to tell us there is a personal God?
Yes; I do—
God is within every person who ever lives—or ever will live—
A person is a personality, is he not?
Consequently, there is a personal God, and each person possesses him—or her—or it—
God possesses the person—
They are one and the same.
How about the Devil, the Master of Hell?
I tell you, my friends, there is a great big Devil, with hoofs and horns, and a forked tail, and all that—
He is the Master of Hell, as sure as you live—
He is a person, too, tempting every person who lives, or ever will live, and his ways are dark—
He goeth about like a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour—
He is personal, for every person can make a devil of himself if he does not take heed to his steps and listen to the voice of good, or God.
Now; I hope I have proved that there is a God—a Devil—a Hell—
They are all personal—or within a person.
No comments:
Post a Comment