Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1908-05-26

@S
two men; l fuse them as two metals
| l make them more than twins-much
| more"
Vandraken looked incredulous.
"And this also was known to the
Chaldean, that each birth of man
leaves what we call an aura some
where on the universe. 1t Is like a
reflection or a shadow, and as the
human being changes, so changes the
aura, and every good thought that is
| projected by the human mind is re-
Elected. on it; and then, too, the bad.
So that as man has lived, so will his
must be unpleasant things to look at,
some Of those auras.'
II say!" objected Vandraken, "you
are going too fast! What, exactly, is
| an aura, and where does it live?"
"Ah, l am stupid, mister. I must
explain more carefully, more slowly.
For instance, now, the soul All the
wise men, all the clergymen, say it
plays hide-and-seek inside us" He
laughed his cackling laugh "And that
is very funny to me. Where is there
room for it? Under the diaphragm?
Yes, it must be very little, very tiny,
this SOUL" Then his voice changed,
and became as the voice of frantic.
''No, no! tell you it is on your star,
the star they say you were born under,
of which will explain later; not con-
fined down here, but at large on that
star, as your body is at large here.
On the immaterial plane lives the
soul, the aura-call it what you will;
on the material plane lives the body"
May smoker" asked Vandraken,
pleasantly. He believed Won larsen
helm was getting off conjurer's
patter, but he felt confident. that the
man was possessed Of unusual powers.
The occulist shot curious glance
at him acorss the table.
Certainly o Prince of Materialists.
You do not, then, believe in any plane
but this?"
IT have never given the matter any
thought" answered Vandraken, light
ing cigar. "It simply does not in
terest me; this world does Still, l
am always open to conviction, and
your theory has its advantage-it
keeps the souls at decent distance,
way off on some star, where it can't
bother.''
Distance! distance" cried Won Tar
senheim, explosively. Rocks are
distant from one another-tnere is no
such thing as distance to the soul!
Ach Colt! it is like talking to tree!''
He ran his hands desperately through
his black locks. Don't you under
stand that there can be no sense OF
distance, when you are connected with
your soul as two telegraph instru
ments are connected? There!" tap
ping the top of his head, sis a little
gland; in it there are three grains OF
red earth-there is a vibration like q
chord Of music and along that in
visible connection the thoughts of the
body travel to the soul, and insp.ra
tons of the soul travel to the body
and that little gland is the receiving
and sending instrument"
"Your theory?" inquired Eandra
ken, interested. Anything WORTH
weighing appealed to his inherited
legal and business mind.
mol" snapped Won Tarsenheim
ut is no ones theory. 1t is a frag
ment of truth, preserved in the books
tell you of, from the days when the
truth was known, and mems brains
were capable Of receiving it. There
were no theories in those days, my
friend, and only one ,eigion-as there
would be today, If the truth of the
universe were understood. There are
traces Of truth in all religions. The
recording angel, now. mans SOU
self is created perfect and as he de
faces 1t or as he keeps it in perfec
ton, so is the record of his life. Yes
my friend, each man is his own re
cording angel, and tell you there are
some unpleasant moments after death
When man has to meet his own soul
and see 1t as it is, as it was, as i
might have been-that, my friend, Ii
the second DEATH For | tell you tina
the survival of the fittest is a Law
which runs all through the universe
and the soul which is not in tune will
the master chord cannot live long, fo
; the very harmony with which it /!
out of tune will enervate 1t, and at al
opposite combination of the planets
under which it was created it disinte
SIdleS, TeCTySlalllSeS, ana ceases u
exist as consciousness. Your Bibl
will tell you that a Geological Gardel
of imperfect creatures is kept pre-
served in flame. No! no! The scrap
pile, my friend-the scrap-pile tn
melting pot. and it's symbolic, the fam
, from which your hell was taken. Al
, that is in my books. 1t is very in
, teresting, but for our purpose it lead
to this-every thought must be re
corded somewhere; there is no inver
, ton to prevent that. You lead tn
material life, you deface the sou
, backwards and forwards the ref1ee
lions go from earth to star, and S
on the human face the record Is ais
written. This is where my inventio
comes in. I cannot overcome the la,
!, Of Record, but l can"-the occultis
!, rose from his chair and gazed down a
Vandraken's face triumphantly-'
:, tell you, | can transfer all you
; thoughts vibrations to the soul of al
, other, provided l find man who
of the same star who will permit tia
/ hypnotise him.
.tA