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 Copyright Secured 1889. 
 
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 J?ers0ns Represented. 
 
 EDGAR ALLAN POE, Poet and Author. 
 
 CLARENCE BERGMAN A Cultivated, Selfish, Unprincipled Man. 
 
 CLARENCE BERGMAN, Jr., . . . A Desperate Character. 
 
 TORQUATO TASSO, . . A Poet and Spirit Father of Poe. 
 
 AARON BURR, .... The Politician, in Spirit Life. 
 
 JACOB HOLMES, . A Stolid, Ignorant Man, in Spirit Life. 
 
 MR. GOODMAN. . . In a Paradisical Garden, in Spirit Life. 
 
 MRS. GOODMAN, . In a Paradisical Garden, in Spirit Life. 
 
 LENORE, The Angel Bride of Poe. 
 
 SAPPHO .1 Poetess, and Spirit Mother of Poe. 
 
 LILLIE St. CLAIR BERGMAN. Wife of Clarence Bergman, in 
 
 Spirit Life. 
 
 MRS. HOLMES, . . Mother of Jacob Holmes, in Spirit Life. 
 MRS. LENOA', A Lady living with her Family in Philadelphia. 
 MISS BELLE LENOX, . . . A vivacious Young Lady. 
 
 MISS BLANCH LENOX, . . . Affianced of Bergman. 
 
 Scenes : 
 
 fit Baltimore, Philadelphia and the First Supermundane 
 Sphere of Earth. 
 
* V * V * Y *. Y. * Y * Y * Y * 
 
 ^cl I. 
 
 Scene 1 — On the Docks in Baltimore. Enter Bergman, Jr. 
 
 Bergman, Jr. — God 'fend the man who this night cross 
 " My path, and his appearance speak of wealth, 
 Though little 'twere, I'll have it. 
 For me the prison bars have lost their terror. 
 Shunned by my fellow men, loathed by myself, 
 An outcast and an outlaw, steeped in crime ; 
 My soul scarred o'er and o'er with damning deeds, 
 Not fit to live, nor yet prepared to die. 
 
 Would that kind death had called me hence 
 Ere 'I had learned to tread the paths of crime, 
 Ere I had left a mother's sheltering arms — 
 Oh ! what strange feelings doth that word Mother, bring ; 
 At the same instant waking in my soul 
 Feelings of deepest love, and direst hate. 
 Love for the mother ever kind and true ; 
 Hate for the man who cruelly deceived, 
 And wrought her ruin. The man I must call father — 
 
 Oh ! the deep and deadly hate I bear that man. 
 My gentle mother driven to an early grave 
 By his abuse and wrong, and I an outcast 
 Through his cold neglect. The thought of him 
 Doth fill my soul with rage, and makes me fit 
 Forany damning deed. 
 
 Hark ! some one comes this way. I see him 
 Passing under yonder lamp, preoccupied 
 And talking to himself. He bears him well, 
 And looks like well to do. Now is my chance — 
 Men hunt me as the hound doth hunt the fox, 
 And now I'll turn and strike. This bag of sand 
 Will leave no mark, and dead men tell no tales. 
 
 Bergman hides behind a pile of lumber down the pier, and Poe enters 
 wrapped in meditation, and stops v)ith his face towards the 
 lumber pile. A vivid flash of lightning 
 
Poe — What a vivid flash was that. How dark and angry 
 Looked the clouds it did reveal. This place seems stifling, 
 And a strange feeling creeps over me, as though 
 Some danger lurked upon the air — 
 
 This dreadful calm presages the coming storm. 
 Again the lightning shows the scurrying clouds, 
 And swiftly gathering storm. Anon 'twill break. 
 This war of elements doth well befit my mood. 
 The swirling clouds take not forms more fantastic 
 Than do these rushing thoughts of mine. 
 The lightnings cleaving through the heavens 
 And setting all aflame, are not more fervid 
 In their heat than are the mighty passions 
 That rush through my being as though they were 
 A molten liquid, burning out my life. 
 Oh ! Lenore. Lost Lenore. 
 
 Poe moves down the dock as he nails Lenore, and she enters clothed in 
 shining white, with a gleaming star above her forehead, and 
 approaches him from behind, but he does not see her. As he passes 
 the lumber pile Bergman, Jr., springs forth and fells Poe with the 
 sand bag. He then sees the angel Lenore as she drops upon her 
 knees beside Poe, and takes his head in her arms and presses a kiss 
 on his brow. Bergman, Jr., utters an exclamation of terror and 
 flees from the scene, and leaps off the dock into the water. The 
 curtain drops upon the tableau of Lenore gently caressing the 
 dying Poe, and uttering tender words of endearment. 
 
 Scene 2 — A landscape of Elysian Fields. Poe wrapped in a robe 
 that has some pure white places, but clouded and covered with 
 spots that range from a slight discoloration to a dark brown, is 
 seen asleep, reclining upon a little knoll, strewn with flowers. 
 A soft golden light pervades the ichole landscape, and men and 
 women, clothed in spotless, shining white garments, and talking 
 in low and tender tones stand around him, while Lenore sits 
 at his side with her hand resting upon his brow. Music loic, 
 tender and sweet fills all the place. After a time Poe begins 
 to move, and all retire, leaving him alone as he opens his eyes, 
 and he raises himself upon his elbow. 
 
 Poe — 'Tis strange, 'tis passing strange. 
 'Tis but a moment past that, as I woke 
 From a most peaceful slumber, 
 
5 
 
 The air seemed filled with music. 
 'Twas so tender, soft and low, 
 That it lulled me to sweetest rest. 
 It seemed like the tender lullaby 
 That flows from a young mother's lips 
 As she carols softly to her first born babe. 
 And there were voices mingled with it. 
 I must have slept a most refreshing sleep. 
 My weariness is gone. The dull pain that 
 Wracked my brain and made it throb 
 As though 'twould cleave the skull in twain 
 Has left me. The heaviness that hung 
 Like weights of lead upon my limbs 
 Has been removed, and I so light and 
 Airy feel, that seems that by a wish 
 I might o'er step a mountain. 
 
 No more the hot blood courses through 
 My veins like liquid fire, as though 
 'Twould scorch the eyeballs from my head. 
 
 Arises to Ms feet. 
 
 Why ; where am I ? This scene I never 
 
 Saw before. And, too, these garments % 
 
 Whence came these % These stained and soiled robes 
 
 Are not the dress I late did wear. 
 
 Do I dream % Am I still sleeping % 
 
 Were the voices and sweet music that I heard 
 
 But the fancy of an idle brain? 
 
 I see no persons near, nor in all 
 
 The beauteous landscape that stretches 
 
 Far away on every hand. How balmy 
 
 Seems the air. How beautiful 
 
 The flowers, and their perfume how sweet. 
 
 Oh ! that this dream might last 
 
 'Till tired nature brought me perfect rest. 
 
 But do I dream % I seem awake. 
 Come, I will pinch myself and walk 
 About to prove me whether 'tis I 
 Wake or sleep. I hear the murmuring 
 Of a brook near by. I'll seek its bank 
 
And in its rippling waters plunge my face, 
 And if it be I sleep and dream, it 
 Then shall waken me. 
 
 Goes to the stream, looks at his reflection in the water and starts bacR 
 in amazement. 
 
 What ? changed in feature and in figure too, 
 And so much younger grown. I know I wake. 
 From out these shining eyes the soul looks forth 
 With an unclouded vision. I, I must think. 
 Where was I when I fell asleep ; fell 
 Into that magic slumber that hath wrought 
 This wonderous change — 
 
 Oh ! I recall. It rushes o'er me 
 Like a Avhelming tide. I was on way 
 To meet my promised bride, and in the night, 
 Out through the streets of Baltimore 
 I took my way. My worn spirit, sore oppressed 
 And body racked with pain, found in the gathering storm 
 Congenial elements. I remember 
 Passing down by the docks and among 
 The shipping, and there a man rushed 
 Upon me and felled me to the earth. 
 Then all is blank until I waked 
 To music's sweetest sounds. 
 
 My God — and was I murdered ! Am I dead ? 
 No, no I am not dead. The full tide 
 Of Life is pulsing through my being, 
 And ne'er before were I so much alive 
 As now. But I have passed through 
 Death, else how should I be here 
 In these Elysian Fields whose beauty 
 Doth surpass aught my eyes e'er gazed 
 Upon before. 
 
 Oh ! Death, how mightily hast thou been 
 Belied, until men name thee " King of 
 Terrors," and blanch their face to whiteness, 
 If but they think they hear thy footsteps 
 Coming towards their door. Death, Death, 
 Oh ! blessed Death, that by thy change could 
 
Make me what 1 am, from what I was. 
 
 But why am I alone ? Surely I heard 
 Sweet voices mingled Avith the music 
 As I waked. And oh ! the music of those voices. 
 So full of tenderness and love, that 
 Peace seemed wafted to me by their 
 Every accent. 
 
 Why leave me thus alone ? I would 
 That ye return and bear me company. 
 
 Enter Tasso and Sappho, the spirit father and mother, or guardians 
 of Poe, clothed in pure white shining garments. 
 
 Tasso — Child of our constant care and tender love 
 We felt thy call, and from the realms above 
 Wherein we dwell, we took our way to thee. 
 From hour of earliest birth, aye, from the 
 Hour thou was conceived have we 
 Watched over thee, and tried to guide thee 
 On the Way of Life. We stood beside thee 
 When you parted from your mortal form, 
 And brought you hitherto this supermundane 
 Plane. Then, as you Avoke, we, with many 
 Who had come to welcome the new born 
 Withdrew that you might wake alone, 
 And gradually comprehend the change. 
 
 Poe — Then I have stepped from out the realms of earth, 
 And entered on another life. 
 
 Sappho, advancing takes his hand, and, presses a kiss upton his brow. 
 
 Sappho — Child of our tender love and constant care. 
 We welcome you to this, a higher sphere. 
 And yet, thou art of Earth, and so 
 Are we. 'Tis true that through the portals of 
 The tomb opened by Death, that you 
 Have reached another stage in Life, but not 
 Another Life. Have reached another plane 
 Of Earth, but not another Earth. But more 
 Of this anon. Wearied and worn from the 
 Conflicts, cares and trials endured upon 
 Earth's lower plane, rest here awhile ere you 
 Resume your upward way. 
 
As we have watched and guided you through all 
 Your days, though hy you unseen, 
 So will we guide you still, and ever at 
 Your earnest call be present at your side. 
 In this, as in the lower sphere, each have 
 their work to do, and often you will choose 
 To be alone. 
 
 p oe — Mother ! Father ! Yes it must be so. 
 It seems as if I'd known you all my life, 
 And yet I ne'er had seen you till within 
 The hour. 
 
 Tasso — Father and mother of your mind are we, 
 And thus you've known us since consciousness 
 First woke within you. 
 
 Poe — And am I free to wander where I will ? 
 
 Tasso — Aye, child, full freedom is thine own. 
 As thy will prompts, so have you leave to do. 
 Would you explore the region round about ? 
 We'll be thy guides. 
 
 Poe — Yes, that would be great pleasure. 
 Lead thou the way. 
 
 Leaves the stage led by Sappho and Tasso. 
 
 Scene 3 — A beautiful paradisical garden with trees, fountains 
 and flowers, all in a strong white light, with one side of the 
 stage in shadow. In the garden a man and woman, Mr. and 
 Mrs. Goodman, walking in sweet converse. Tasso, Sappho and 
 Poe approach from the shaded side. As they come upon the 
 stage they halt, and Poe speaks. 
 
 Poe — What glorious place is this ! 
 
 It seems one living mass of light and color. 
 
 Tasso — This is a paradisical garden. A home of love and purity. 
 I know its occupants, a most worthy pair. 
 They'll bid us welcome. Shall we approach ? 
 
 Poe — 'Tis a vision of grace and beauty, 
 And the pair seem clothed in dignity 
 
And humility commingled. 
 Yes, let us enter. 
 
 They advance, but as they enter the sphere of light Poe hesitates, casts a 
 look at his soiled and spotted robes, and draws back within the 
 shadow. 
 
 Poe — I cannot endure the light. It blinds me, 
 And I feel a sense of suffocation 
 In it. My robe smelled foul and loathesonie, 
 And seemed covered with blots and stains. 
 Here it seemeth not offensive to me, 
 But in that light it seemed to clothe me 
 In a robe of shame ! — while yours grew bright 
 And did send forth sweet perfume. 
 Can I not have a robe like thine % 
 
 Sappho — Yes, child of our love, whatsoever thou desirest 
 That canst thou have. But only by your own efforts 
 Can it be secured. 
 
 Here each is clothed with love, wisdom and purity 
 As with a garment. Unholy passions leave 
 A stain upon the robe we wear, 
 And purer light than that in which we live 
 Doth bring them out to view. 
 And that the reason why in yonder 
 Glowing light thy robe didst seem 
 Distasteful to thee. 
 
 Death works no sudden change. 
 Not yet hast thou advanced to that degree 
 That thou controll'st thy passions. Oft have they 
 Swayed thee 'gainst thy better self and caused thee 
 Many a pain. Freedom here is thine, 
 And ever has been thine. To act, or not to act, 
 Is ever subject to your choice, but here 
 A greater power thou hast. 
 Much hast thou yet to learn, much to unlearn. 
 
 Poe — Let us go hence. Let us return to those 
 Elysian fields where first I woke to consciousness. 
 In that blest spot a sense of peace and rest 
 Pervades my being, and makes me feel at 
 Rest with self and all mankind. 
 
IO 
 
 Tasso — Yes, we will return : for there you find 
 Conditions suited to your best estate. 
 And, for a time you'll find your pleasure there. 
 There friends may come to you, the loved, not lost, 
 Those who have further grown, and who abide 
 In higher state and greater light than this. 
 
 Thus 'tis with each. When first they enter 
 From the mundane plane to this the second sphere, 
 Some loving heart and tender hand doth lead them 
 To such place herein as best befits their need. 
 The highest, loveliest, best their life below 
 Prepared them for. Here they remain at will. 
 To go, to come, and follow every bent 
 Of mind as fancy may dispose. 
 
 Here every thought and wish may find 
 Fruition. And, soon or late, each thought, 
 Each feeling, every least desire that did 
 In lower sphere find lodgment in thy being, 
 Respond as does a germ when aptly placed, 
 And grow and blossom here. 
 
 Then comes the weeding time. It comes to all, 
 For in each life the tares and wheat together grow. 
 It comes to all. 'Twill come to thee. 
 
 During the foregoing speech the light in the paradisical garden has 
 been changed to the soft golden, the pair therein ham vanished, 
 and the Elysian Fields are revealed in its place, and the party 
 advances into them, and Poe exclaims : 
 
 Poe — How beautiful is this place. It wraps me 
 In a sea of restful peace. 
 
 Tasso — Yes, it marks the acme of your growth 
 Till now. Whom wouldst thou see ? 
 
 Poe — Lenore. Bring to my side Lenore. 
 
 Tasso and Sappho withdraw to the further side of the stage, from 
 whence they watch with expressions of pleasure the entrance of 
 Lenore, dressed as before, and Poe rushing forward, folds her in 
 his arms in close embrace. Curtain falls on Act I. 
 
II 
 
 &tt II. 
 
 Scene I — The Elysian Fields. Poe standing ivith a look of dis- 
 content upon Ms face, a rose in his hand, from which he is 
 plucking the leaves and casting them on the ground at his feet. 
 After throwing down the last leaf, and for a moment viewing 
 the denuded stem he exclaims : 
 
 Poe — How hateful is this place. I thought it beautiful. 
 'Tis hideous. Beauty should charm. This place 
 Doth charm no more. 'Twas well enough so long 
 As naught more beautiful had been revealed to me. 
 But oh ! the beauty of the home of sweet Lenore. 
 And from that home a Pariah I 
 Debarred, but not by her, but by my own 
 . Foul raiment. 
 
 Curse on the wretch who sent me so 
 Untimely to the grave, while yet strong passions 
 Unsubdued did hold me in their thrall. 
 Look on this robe and see the damning stains 
 And blots they make. Blots that smell foul 
 When brought within the light of Lenore's home. 
 Aye, I can smell them now e'en here 
 So rank they've grown, they make me loath myself. 
 Vile wretch, that sent me here before my time, 
 And forced me all unfit, covered with filth, 
 Into the presence of the pure and just, 
 And that I could, I'd rend thee limb from limb. 
 
 Poe throws the stem of the rose upon the ground, and grinds it 
 viciously beneath his feet. Enter Aaron Burr, clothed in robes of 
 shining white. 
 
 Burr — Friend, what angereth thee ! 
 
 Poe — Look thou at this foul robe I wear. 
 
 Burr — And wouldst thou change it for a fairer one ? 
 
 Poe — Would thirsty traveler o'er the desert's sands 
 Welcome the bubling spring ? So would I welcome 
 Such a change. 
 
 Burr — Come then with me, and I will show thee 
 Where these brighter robes are wrought. 
 
12 
 
 Scene II — An arid plane. A few stunted scrubby trees, foul 
 weeds, a stone hut, a man unkempt and unwashed, in ragged 
 filthy garments, sitting in front of the loic door and muttering 
 to himself. The light is like twilight. Burr and Foe coming 
 upon the scene. 
 
 Poe — What dreary place is this ? 
 
 Burr — Yes, it is dreary to your eyes •, 
 
 And yet 'tis but a short remove from where 
 
 You dwell. Another section of the second sphere. 
 
 Poe — It hath the appearance of another land. 
 
 Burr — Within this second sphere of Earth 
 Are all conditions found. As on the plane 
 Where late you dwelt the vicious and the good, 
 The high and low, the foolish and the wise 
 Were mingled, and as we find all states 
 Are mingled in each human soul, 
 So here we find them interspersed, 
 And thus the evil is o'ercome by good 
 By its proximity ; and light that knowledge 
 Brings doth dissipate the clouds of ignorance. 
 But whether place or thing be beautiful or not, 
 Dependeth not upon itself so much, 
 As on the one who sees it. 
 
 Speak to this brother here, ami you shall learn 
 How he regards this place. 
 
 Poe — Good morning friend. You seem well pleased with life. 
 Does this place please you % 
 
 Holmes — Yes, yes mister, I like it. 
 
 Poe — Have you been here long ? 
 
 Holmes — Yes, I guess so. I don't know. I do not mind the time. 
 
 Poe — Would you not like a brighter, more cheerful place ? 
 
 Holmes — Why mister, this is bright enough for me. More light 
 would hurt my eyes. I have here all I want. A good house, fine 
 clothes, pleasant fields, and neighbors to visit when I wish, what 
 more do I need % 
 
 Poe — Then you are quite content and happy as you are ? 
 
i3 
 
 Holmes — Well, yes. That is, I was. Say, mister, why couldn't 
 you let an old man alone who hadn't never done nothing to you ? 
 
 Burr — Have I my brother, done you any wrong ? 
 
 Holmes — Yes you have. You kum here and you kept kummin, 
 and you kept a talkin' and a talkin', till byneby I begun to think about 
 those places you said's so mucb better than this, and it kind o'got 
 me dissatisfied like with this here place. I's all right afore you kum 
 around. I's gotter allow as how you's mighty kind and gentle like, 
 but I aint just so happy as I used to be. And now you bring this 
 other gentleman along, and the fust thing he does is to up and ask me 
 if I'd like a better place. He's got a mighty white dress, not a spot 
 on it, but it don't shine so like your'n, and when I see you both 
 lookin' so fine like, it does make mine look rather dingy, and I see 
 some spots on it that I hadn't noticed afore. Don't want to be rude 
 misters, but I wish you wouldn't come agin. It makes me discon- 
 tented like. And then, somehow, I kinder wish you would. You 
 see I don't know what I do want. I's all right till you begun to 
 kum to me. 
 
 Burr advancing and taking him by the hand. 
 
 Burr — My good friend and brother, if you will permit me I will 
 help you to remove this discontent. I know a way that would lead 
 you to a place where you could get a robe as white and shining as is 
 this I wear. The way is long, but each stage grows more pleasing, 
 and you would find much to interest you on the way. A party is 
 forming to make this journey, and if you desire you may join it. It 
 will make many stops on the way, and tarry for a time at each, but 
 you shall find each stopping place more beautiful than the last. 
 
 Holmes — Well, I don't know. I'm pretty well off here. That's 
 a pretty long journey you speak of mister, and you see I'd be leavin' 
 all my old 'sociates. 
 
 Burr — Do they satisfy you ? 
 
 Holmes — Well, there now. That's just it. You see they did, 
 till you kept kummin and talkin' to me. Just afore you kum I's 
 feelin' lonesome like, but couldn't make up my mind to go the 
 neighbors. Somehow I kinder thought you'd kum this mornin'. 
 Say, mister, do you think if I'd start on that journey 'twould please 
 my mother ? 
 
 Burr — Yes, greatly. I know it would. 
 
14 
 
 Holmes— Then I'll do it. She kuin here a good many times long 
 time ago, and wanted me to go with her out o'this place; but I 
 wouldn't. You see it just suited me then, and I wanted her to come 
 here and liye. She said she couldn't, and I said I wouldn't, and so 
 she stopped kummin. I kinder feel as though I's awful selfish to 
 want mother to come here, for her dress was very white and shinin, 
 and I begin to see now that this place is rather dirty, and not half as 
 purty as I thought it was. Yes, mister I'll go. Oh ! wont it please 
 mother when she hears I'm going to leave this place ? Oh ! I wish 
 she were here that I might tell her. 
 
 Bute?" Mrs. Holmes clothed in shining white, with three bright stars 
 upon her brow. 
 
 Mrs. Holmes — My son, my son, mother has come for you. 
 
 She folds her son to her bosom and presses her li2)s upon his brow, as 
 he lays his head upon her shoulder. Curtain falls upon the 
 tableau. 
 
 Scene III — Elysian Fields, in which the light is much brighter 
 than heretofore. Poe, wearing a robe having the same spots as 
 before, but all of a much lighter shade, is seen walking up and 
 down, with a bouquet of flowers in his hand which he is 
 examining and admiring. Pausing in his walk he soliloquizes. 
 
 Poe — These flowers seem like sentient things, and each 
 One breaths of love. If I but frown, they shrink 
 Away as though it gave them pain, and if I smile 
 Their petals tremble and seem to crave caress. 
 They droop or thrive according to my mood. 
 Out from the garden of my loved Leu ore 
 They come to keep me company. 
 
 Much time she passeth here, and her sweet presence 
 Hath made this hallowed ground. And now, 
 As time draws near when I shall quit this place, 
 I feel a sadness o ; er me stealing. 
 Here have I learned and suffered much. 
 Here have I read the record of my life 
 On earth. Each thought, act, feeling, faithful 
 Memory revealed, and showed the motive 
 That did underlie. Nothing was hidden — 
 Everything revealed. It seemed as though all 
 Earth and Heaven might read the record. 
 
15 
 
 Slowly the scroll unrolled that bore the record 
 Of my life, and I was forced to sit 
 In judgment on myself. 
 
 In mercy all my friends withdrew and I 
 Was left alone. But while the scroll unrolled 
 Before my eyes I thought 'twas read by all. 
 But only to myself was it revealed, 
 And I alone was judge. So koow I now ; 
 And much it hath revealed to me. 
 
 Now comes the weeding time. To pluck away 
 The tares is now my earnest purpose. 
 Already I perceive these stains are fainter 
 Grown, and hate gives place to pity. 
 But late I cursed the man who by his act 
 Did send me to this sphere of life. But now 
 I'll seek him out, and strive by gentle words 
 And loving deeds to turn him from his evil ways. 
 For have I not in mine own self perceived 
 How we are swayed by passion. 
 How, letting our thoughts dwell upon a real 
 Or a fancied wrong, we harbor vengeful thoughts 
 Until we are their slave, and they our masters. 
 How in our blindness we rail at fate 
 And curse our destinies, turning the current 
 Of our lives to bitterness, and breading 
 For ourselves and others woe ; for on the psychic, 
 As on the physical plane like begets like, 
 And every thought's a cerm that grows to fruitage 
 If cherished by our love — 
 Indeed the weeding time doth come to all. 
 Thrice happy they who on Life's mundane plane 
 Doth pluck the weeds ere they to rankness grow. 
 
 Enter Tasso and Sappho and embrace Poe. 
 
 Tasso — Our child, we bring thee greeting and congratulation 
 For the victory won. Now, that thou hast judged thyself 
 And justly, more rapid shall thy progress be ; 
 For thou dost love the right, and ever hast. 
 Thy love was warm, thy admiration great, 
 Ambition lofty. Pride filled thee with fierce passion. 
 At the restraints that hemmed thee in thou oft 
 
Didst chafe, and many a weed did nourish 
 
 In the garden of thy life. The weeding time has come, 
 
 And well we know how faithfully thou'lt do 
 
 The work. 
 
 As we did tell thee, each on entering here 
 Is taken to such place as fits their best 
 Condition. Not all like you remain, 
 And make such place their starting point for 
 Further growth ; but many, living in their 
 Lower natures with more of hate than love, 
 Seek out a lower and more congenial 
 Spot in deeper shades, and there remain 
 'Till keen remorse awake within them sense 
 Of pity. Here in the second sphere are all 
 Conditions found, and here we all remain 
 Until outgrowing them. Some quickly pass 
 Its several stages through, while others 
 Linger here for ages. 
 
 Twelve spheres has Earth, rising from mundane 
 Up to twelfth, and into these is each one born 
 Successively. And when, at last 
 Our natal world outgrown, by birth 
 Through death we still pass on to higher spheres. 
 Thus stage by stage doth man advance. . • 
 
 On mundane plane man first begins to live. 
 At birth he casts aside his most external 
 Body. The placenta dies that man may live 
 On higher plane, and in more perfect form. 
 As is the universe with its many spheres, 
 So is the man with many bodies, each in 
 The germ, and all enfolded one within the other. 
 Through death, man is born from first 
 To second sphere, as you have been ; 
 And what was inner body there, becomes 
 Objective here j and by development 
 And growth in wisdom, truth and love, 
 That body that's internal here, becomes 
 Objective in next higher sphere. 
 Thus stage by stage do all progress, and each 
 Successive birth reveals a fairer body. 
 
 Here each is taught, and each doth teach. 
 
17 
 
 The higher to the lower come and strive 
 
 To lift them up. Within the lower sections 
 
 Of the second sphere is greatest need. 
 
 Therein do all who've passed the ordeal of 
 
 Self-judgment find a work to do. 
 
 There dwell the vicious, ignorant, apathetic. 
 One of these last you helped awake to 
 
 Sense of something wanting, and now 
 
 His time of progress has begun. 
 
 Not vicious nor unkind had his life been 
 * On mundane plane, but simply stolid. 
 
 The finer qualties of his being 
 
 Had never waked, were still in embryo. 
 
 The place you found him in was heaven 
 
 To him, as satisfying as these Elysian Fields 
 
 To you when first you entered here. 
 
 Your tenderest love was used to make this place 
 
 Distasteful to you. Your ambition, 
 
 To hasten your self-judgment. Thus rapidly 
 
 Have you been prepared for higher state. 
 
 And now we go to visit one in sore distress, 
 
 Whom deep remorse hath seized upon, and who 
 
 Is pierced by bitter, vengeful thoughts 
 
 Sent forth by one he'd wronged 
 
 Will you go with us ? 
 p oe — Aye, gladly will I go, for vengeful thoughts 
 
 No longer find a lodgment in my breast, 
 
 But tender pity doth outflow for all. 
 
 Sappho — 'Tis well 'tis so ; for naught so well becomes 
 Mankind as love, pity and tenderness 
 For those who suffer. Full many a day 
 We've waited for this hour to strike from off 
 A suffering man bis bonds. Let us away. 
 
 Scene IV— A dismal cavern, with dark, lurid light and slimy 
 reptiles. Bergman, Jr., robed in black and tattered garments 
 sitting tipon a stone in a despairing mood. Burr, clothed as 
 before, stands near regarding him with looks of tenderness and 
 pity. Enter Tasso, Sappho and Poe. As they enter Poe 
 exclaims. 
 
Poe — What a dreadful place is this. The horrors accumulate as we 
 advance. Are there others still more deadful. 
 
 Tasso — Yes. This is not the worst, but here is the object of our 
 mission. 
 
 Poe — Oh ! what a wretched object is that man. He looks as 
 though despair, remorse and pain had claimed him for their own. 
 And there beside him stands that gentle, loving man who led me to 
 that arid waste, and waked the man from out his apathetic state. 
 He seemeth like an angel of mercy. Can you tell me who he is f 
 
 Tasso — That is Aaron Burr. 
 
 Poe — What do you say ? Aaron Burr ? 
 
 Tasso — Yes, that gentle, loving man is Aaron Burr, and much of 
 his time is given to visiting the unfortunates who dwell in these 
 lower sections of the second sphere, trying to aid them to reach a 
 better condition. 
 
 For a time after his first entrance into this sphere of life he was in 
 a condition similar to this you now behold, for that unhappy man has 
 been brought here by his misdeeds that followed as the effect of 
 his ungoverned passions, and his remorse is for a great wrong he did 
 an innocent man whom he did not even know, and having realized 
 the enormity of his offence he now suffers from the pangs of remorse, 
 and also from vengeful thoughts sent out to him from the one he 
 injured, and at times he feels as if being rended limb from limb. 
 See, the spasm comes on him now. 
 
 Bergman, Jr. — Oh ! tortures of the damned. I feel the clutch 
 of my victim, and he's rending me in pieces. Curses upon him — 
 Why did he come my way when I was desperate % And yet, 'twas 
 I, not he to blame. But oh ! that villain of a father. 'Twas he 
 that made me what I am. 
 
 Springing to his feet, gnashing his teeth in rage and grinding with 
 his feet. 
 
 Oh ! that 1 had him here. I'd tear him with my teeth, grind him 
 with my feet, spit in his face, and heap my curses on him so thick 
 and fast that he should think a thousand fiends pursued him. 
 
 Burr — Peace, peace dear friend. These bursts of passion do but 
 injure you. Think how at times you long for the forgiveness of your 
 victim. Perchance your father may now long for thine. 
 
 Bergman, Jr. , sitting down and dropping his eyes to the ground. 
 
19 
 Bergman, Jr. — I had not thought of that. 
 
 Burr — Think of it now. Think you your mother would curse or 
 bless him. 
 
 Bergman, Jr. — Mother was an angel — mother would forgive him 
 without his asking. Why, sir, she would go to him and beg the 
 privilege of being allowed to forgive him. 
 
 Burr — You know how at times you feel as if the man you wronged 
 were rending you limb from limb ? 
 
 Bergman, Jr. — Yes. 
 
 Burr — Would you like me to tell you why you have those 
 feelings ? 
 
 Bergman, Jr. — Yes, tell me. 
 
 Burr — 'Tis because the man you injured, in a fit of passion cursed 
 you and said " And that I could, I'd rend thee limb from limb." 
 Thoughts earnestly expressed reach out in this sphere and do the will 
 of their projector. And if your father were already in this sphere, 
 he would have felt all the pam and misery you wished to heap upon 
 him. 
 
 Bergman, Jr. — I'm glad he is not here. I shudder now to think 
 how he would have suffered. Your asking what mother would do 
 has set me to thinking that if I were more like her, perhaps that man 
 would forgive me. She used to make me say the Lord's prayer when 
 I was a little fellow, and often she would say that we should forgive 
 as we would be forgiven. 
 
 Tears come to his eyes, and he rvipes them away with his hand. 
 
 I believe I could forgive my father now if he were here. Once, 
 when I first came to this side my mother came to me — it was- a long, 
 long time ago. How long have I been here ? Do you know ? 
 
 Burr — Oh ! not so very long. A few months as you would have 
 counted the time in earth life. 
 
 Bergman, Jr. — It seems a long time to me. Well, as I was saying, 
 mother came to me. I was not in this dark casern then, but in a large 
 place that seemed like a hospital. I woke from what seemed to me 
 to have been a sweet and refreshing slumber, and mother was stand- 
 ing at my side. I was so glad to see her, and she was so glad to 
 see me. 
 
 She kissed me tenderly, and called me her darling boy, and said so 
 
20 
 
 many kind and pleasant things to me, and tried to make me feel con- 
 tented and happy, but somehow, although everybody looked pleasant 
 and seemed kind, I felt as though I was an intruder and was not 
 wanted. 
 
 This feeling kept growing upon me until it became unbearable, 
 and I told mother I could not remain there any longer. 
 
 She said I was free to go wherever I desired, and that when 1 
 wished for her she would come to me. Then I left her, and as I 
 walked away every one I met looked at me kindly, but their looks 
 seemed to say: "You are an intruder here. You have come before 
 your time. Why did you do it ? " 
 
 This made me wish to shun everybody and go away by myself. So 
 I travelled on and on, not knowing nor caring where I was going 
 until 1 found myself in a desert place. 
 
 Up to this time it had not occurred to me to ask myself where I 
 was, but now that thought came to me,. and like a flash my thoughts 
 went back to the last scene of my earth life, and I knew that 1 was 
 dead, and yet I knew that 1 was still alive. 
 
 The whole scene came back to me, I saw the dock at Baltimore, 
 ' the man coming down it, myself hiding behind the lumber pile with 
 the sand bag in my hand ready to attack him. I saw him come 
 near, and as the lightning flashed and thunder rolled, I saw him stop 
 and heard again the words he uttered. Then 1 saw him come 
 towards me and I sprang forth and felled him to the earth. Then I 
 saw a beautiful angel, her he had called I thought it was, kneel 
 down and lift his head in her arms. I turned, ran from the spot 
 and plunged off" the dock into the water. 
 
 Poe — (Aside.) What, this the man that late called forth my 
 curse. Oh! how I pity. him. 
 
 Bergman, Jr. — As I realized my crime, my double crime, the 
 murder of my victim and myself, I felt instinctively why I was 
 looked upon as an intruder here, and I fled on and on, until I 
 reached this place and here you found me. 
 
 Here in fear and dread I hid myself. I cursed my fate and all 
 mankind, and when you came I cursed you too, for I thought you 
 sought me out for punishment. But you've been kind and made me 
 hope, and now, at last have wakened in me my more kindly nature. 
 Tell me but how, show but the way that I can right the wrong of 
 him I foully murdered and I will do it. 
 
 Poe advancing and taking Bergman, Jr.'s hand. 
 
21 
 
 Poe — Friend, brother, I am lie of whom thou hast just spoken, and 
 freely, joyfully do I forgive you the act that sent me out from my 
 earthly body. Already have you greatly suffered, and 'twas my own 
 ungoverned passions flowing forth in curses that caused you part of 
 it. For that I crave your pardon, and I ask the privilege henceforth 
 to be counted as your friend and' brother, and let me be the one to 
 lead you from this dark and noisome place to fairer scenes. 
 
 Bergman, Jr. — Oh ! many, many thanks. And may I call you 
 friend ? A crushing weight has dropped from off me. Now let me 
 comfort those more miserable than I. 
 
 Burr — In the expression of that wish you have yourself marked 
 out the way whereby you can make full reparation for every wrong 
 you have done. 
 
 Bergman, Jr. — Already do I feel a soothing sense of peace steal 
 over me, and yearnings for a mother's fond embrace well up within 
 my bosom. 
 
 Enter Lillie St. Clair Bergman and Lenore. Mrs. Bergman embraces 
 her son in silence, tenderly stroking his cheek. Lenore approaches 
 Poe, and placing her hands upon his shoulders and looking into 
 h is face exclaims. 
 
 Lenore — Now shall they robes be pure and white, for thou hast 
 learned to render blessings for curses, and to forgive as thou wouldst 
 be forgiven. 
 
 Mrs. Bergman — My beloved son, your temptations and your trials 
 have been great. You have suffered much, but you have now 
 entered upon the way which shall lead you from darkness into light. 
 Henceforth mother can come to you, and mother will guide you. 
 
 Curtain falls upon Act II. 
 
22 
 
 £ct III. 
 
 Scene I. — A parlor, and seated therein Mr. Bergman, Mrs. Lenox, 
 the mistress of the house, and her daughters, Miss Belle and 
 Miss Blanche, young ladies. 
 
 Mrs. Lenox — Oh ! Mr. Bergman, what is this strange thing the 
 papers are full of, that they call the Rochester knockings ? They say 
 that the spirits of the dead are coming back, and by means of raps 
 are talking with the people here. 
 
 Only a few days since I read in the New York Tribune a long 
 account of bow it all originated at Hydesville New York, not quite 
 two years ago in a family where there were three young girls that 
 they call mediums, and it stated that since that time the raps have 
 been heard in hundreds of families all over the country. 
 
 Mr. Greeley stated in the article that he had himself attended a 
 seance I think he called it, Avith those Fox girls, and that the raps 
 were heard upon the table, the floor, walls and ceiling as loud as 
 though someone were pounding with a hammer. 
 
 That by calling over the letters of the alphabet the raps spelled 
 out whole sentences, giving intelligent communications. He 
 declares that he is positive that those sounds or raps were not made 
 nor controlled by any person then present in the body, and that 
 while he was not prepared to admit or believe that they were made 
 by the spirits of the dead, he did know that they were produced by 
 some power that possessed human intelligence. 
 
 Now, Mr. Bergman, what do you - think about it ? Have you 
 heard the raps ? for I hear they are being produced at a number of 
 houses here in Philadelphia. 
 
 Bergman — Well, I do not know very much about it. Naturally 
 seeing so much written about such a strange phenomena one is 
 likely to become at least curious, and the other evening I went with a 
 few friends to a gentleman's house who had told us that his daughter, 
 a Miss of about twelve years I should think, possessed the strange 
 power, and that the heavy dining table would tip to answer ques- 
 tions, and do many other strange things. 
 
There were present on that occasion the gentleman, his wife and 
 daughter, rny three friends and myself. We all took seats around 
 the heavy dining table, and all placed their hands palms down upon 
 it. After perhaps two minutes a rap, about such as one would make 
 upon a door before entering a room was made, apparently near the 
 centre of the table on the underside. 
 
 Our host then explained that one rap meant "no," two raps, "don't 
 know, " and three raps u yes." He then asked if any spirits were 
 present, and three raps were given. Asked if they would answer 
 questions. Again three raps. 
 
 Then he asked who were there, and called over a number of names 
 of those who were dead. To some the answer was yes, to others no. 
 Then many questions were asked and answers received. I asked if 
 any one with whom. I was acquainted while they lived here was pres- 
 ent, and an emphatic no was signaled. 
 
 I then asked if they could and would answer mental questions, and 
 to this there was given an equally emphatic yes. 
 
 I then mentally asked that the raps be made in different parts of 
 the room, and upon various pieces of furniture, and in each and every 
 instance the raps were made - where I desired, and almost instantly, 
 and the exact number that I desired. 
 
 I was seated at the end of the table, and the little girl next on my 
 right. I finally mentally requested that the table should move towards 
 me, and it did, with a vengeance. 
 
 I had hardly formulated the request in my mind when the table 
 started towards me, and kept coming, bringing the little girl and her 
 chair along with it at its side, but leaving all the others, and pushing 
 me and my chair before it until I was tightly squeezed between the 
 table and wall of the room, nor could I push it away or release my- 
 self until I requested the table to move back, which it did, taking the 
 girl with it but leaving me against the wall. 
 
 That is all I hnow about these Rochester knockings, though I have 
 heard about a great many strange things that is said to have occurred. 
 And I have heard that Prof. Hare, of the University, is going to in- 
 vestigate and report upon this strange phenomena. 
 
 Belle- — Well, I wish I could see something of the kind. 
 
 Mrs. Lenox — I have a little curiosity too, in that direction. Do 
 you think Mr. Bergman, that you could secure us an invitation to 
 your friend's house ? 
 
 Bergman — Oh ! I can hardly presume to call him a friend, as I 
 
2 4 
 
 met him for the first time that evening, he being a Mend of my three 
 friends who presumed to take me along. But suppose we try for 
 ourselves. It is said that the raps are often got by a number of per- 
 sons sitting around a table. 
 
 Belle — Oh ! that will be splendid. Come Blanche, let's get a table 
 and have a circle right off. 
 
 Blanche — No, thank you. No spirits for me. I've got spirits 
 enough of my own without invoking the dead. I've just been imagin- 
 ing that I could feel some one pulling at my dress ever since Mr. 
 Bergman began to talk about that seance. 
 
 Mrs. Lenox — Well, if Blanche does not desire to join us, let us 
 three try ; but first let us solemnly agree between ourselves that if 
 any manifestations do come, that if any information is given to 
 either of us, we will truthfully state whether it is true or false. I 
 think that such a course would be but just to ourselves and to the 
 spirits that come, if they do come. 
 
 Belle — Oh ! I agree to that and am off for a suitable table. (Exit 
 Belle. ) 
 
 Berqman — And I do solemnly swear that in the matter now about 
 to come before us, 1 will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing 
 but the truth, and this I swear by my love for Blanche, and as I hope 
 to soon call her by the sacred name of wife. 
 
 Blanche — Remember sir, that you have sworn by a most "sacred 
 name, and never would I become the wife of any man that failed to 
 keep to the uttermost an oath such as you have just sworn. 
 
 Bergman — No fear dear Blanche. I'll keep the oath and tell the 
 truth. But here comes Belle with the table. Let's form our circle. 
 
 Belle enters, followed by a servant bearing a table which is placed 
 near the center of the stage, and the three seat themselves around it. 
 
 Blanche — Well, friends all, I wish you success in your new under- 
 taking, but think it would be but dull music for me to sit and watch 
 your labors of waiting, so I will while you evoke the spirits, evoke for 
 myself music from the piano. Who knows which may move first, the 
 table or the piano. I suppose all the solemn vows hold good for the 
 piano as well as for the table % 
 
 Bergman — Aye, the piano shall claim a double sanctity. 
 
 Blanche — So mote it be. 
 
25 
 
 The three sit silent around the table with their hands palms down upon 
 it. Blanche seats herself at the piano and begins to play a lively 
 waltz. She plays it through and then begins again, and as she 
 strikes the first note, the piano begins to beat the time. She gives a 
 little start, but continues playing, staring hard at the piano, which 
 now rises and falls rythmically, keeping perfect time. After watch- 
 ing it for afewbars she calls out merrily. 
 
 Blanche' — Oh ! come here. Here they are keeping perfect time for 
 rue. I've got them first, and now that they are here, why, we'll give 
 them a hearty welcome, and say u How de do f ' Ain't this jolly ? 
 
 As she says "How de do," the piano tips far over to the front, and slowly 
 rises again as if making a profund bow. The three have left the 
 table and draw near, and Belle exclaims. 
 
 Belle — I do believe Blanche it was making a bow to you. I give 
 you hearty welcome too. 
 
 Mrs. Lenox — And I. 
 Bergman — And I. 
 
 All boioingprofoundly to the piano, — and again the piano makes its 
 bow. 
 
 Blanche — Will you rap for us and answer questions? 
 
 Three rajjs are heard on the piano. 
 
 Belle — Oh ! I've got an idea 
 
 Bergman — What a strange thing for you to have Belle, but wher- 
 ever could you have found it. 
 
 Belle — It came like Topsy, it growed. But its a good one, aint it 
 Spirits ? 
 
 A shower of raps upon the table. 
 
 Mrs. Lenox — Why, they have gone to the table. Well Belle, 
 what is your grand idea ? 
 
 Belle — Just this. Mr. Bergman said they rapped just where he 
 asked them to mentally, and I thought, why not take those blocks 
 little Lillie plays with that have letters on them, and place them on 
 the table, then let the spirits rap on the letter they want. In that 
 way they could talk faster. 
 
 J. shower of raps come on the table and Belle runs off for the blocks, 
 brings and arranges them on the table, gets a pad of paper and 
 pencil and handing them to her mother says: 
 
26 
 
 Belle — Now mamma, let us all sit around the table, and - Mr. 
 Bergman, Blanche and I will call the letters indicated and you 
 write them down. 
 
 All sit down around the table, and the three call the letters where the 
 rap is heard, and Mrs. Lenox writes them down as follows : 
 
 Good evening friends. It gives us great pleasure to be able to 
 communicate with you. 
 
 Blanche — What do they say to mamma ? 
 Mrs. Lenox reads as written above. 
 
 Bergman — Who is communicating ? 
 Raps begin again and they call the letters as follows : 
 
 A stranger to all here present, but one who would be pleased to 
 serve you. 
 
 Mrs. Lenox reads it. 
 
 Bergman — Are there any spirits here present of those I know ? 
 
 Raps begin again and they call the letters. 
 
 Yes, there are two of your friends present whom you know inti- 
 mately. Would you like them to communicate with you ? 
 
 Mrs. Lenox reads it. 
 
 Bergman — Yes, if they will do so, and I especially desire that they 
 give such information as will be convincing to me that it comes from 
 the ones whose names may be given. I would have them establish 
 their identity in such a manner as to leave no doubt of it in my 
 mind. 
 
 Raps begin again and they call the letters. 
 
 Your request shall be granted far more fully than you desire, but 
 let us say here and now, that in giving the information that we do 
 we do it not through any feeling of resentment or revenge, but in 
 tenderest love, and for your own good and the good of others. 
 
 Know then, that it is Lillie St. Clair Bergman who stands beside 
 you, she who twenty-five years ago this day you secretly married 
 in the city of Baltimore, with whom you lived for two years and two 
 months and then deserted her, and your child and her's, a boy one 
 year old. That boy, our son, now stands here beside me, and for- 
 gives you all the cruel wrong that you have done both him and I. 
 
 You know how I, worn out with suffering and care, passed away 
 
27 
 
 when he was but a child of ten. You know how I sent for you as I 
 lay upon my dying bed, and pleaded with you to take and tenderly 
 care for our child, because by denying our marriage, you had made 
 us both outcasts from my father's home. 
 
 You will remember how, while standing there beside me dying of 
 a broken heart, you promised to be a good father to our boy from 
 that day forth, and educate and care for him. 
 
 You will remember how you soon broke that promise, and abused 
 him, and drove him forth an outcast and homeless upon the streets. 
 You will remember that but a few short months ago you saw his 
 body after it had been drawn from the water in which he drowned 
 himself after felling a man to the earth, for you, Clarence Bergman, 
 saw him strike Edgar A. Poe to the earth, and then flee and leap 
 into the water. 
 
 You will remember that you now have a wife living in the city of 
 New Orleans to whom you were legally married, and we have come 
 to-night to tell you all this to save you from a further crime, and to 
 save this innocent girl from the fate you had prepared for her. 
 
 We have done. You dare not but keep your oath and acknowl- 
 edge all that we have given to be true. We warn you. Go, and 
 amend your ways. 
 
 Lillie St. Clair Bergman. 
 Clarence Bergman, Jr. 
 
 Mrs. Lenox reads the communication in a firm stern voice, and as sh? 
 proceeds Bergman drops his head in his hands. Blanche rises and 
 stands like a statue looking at him, with mingled expression of 
 horror and contempt. When the reading ceases, Blanche in a 
 commanding tone exclaims : 
 
 Blanche — Sir ; stand up. 
 
 Bergman arises but looks down. 
 
 Blanche — Look me in the face. Already does your actions con- 
 demn you, but speak, is the message true or false *? 
 
 Bergman — My God, 'tis wholly true. 
 
 Blanche — Leave my presence, and never see nor speak to me 
 again. 
 
 Bergman cowers before her and the curtain falls upon the tableau. 
 
28 
 
 Scene 2 — A paradisical garden with trees, fountains and flowers, 
 and a beautiful dwelling surrounded with columns around 
 which twine flowers, foliage and plants, embowering the whole 
 in a mass of color, with a light of dazzling brightness over the 
 iv hole scene. Foe and Lenore emerging from the dwelling. 
 The garments of both are radiantly white and shining. Each 
 wears a coronet, with three bright stars above the forehead. 
 
 Lenore — Within this home for years I've waited for 
 Thy coming. Not long and weary years, for time 
 Doth pass with scarce a noting, when witli works 
 Of love we are engaged, and such 
 Have occupied my time. 
 It ever has been beautiful to me, 
 And all my soul desired. 
 But until now, there has within its shadows 
 Lain concealed a half its beauty. 
 Not that its light has brighter grown 
 By thy dear presence, bnt standing by thy side 
 A deeper, fuller beauty doth reveal 
 Itself. Each clinging vine, each trembling leaf, 
 And every fragrant flower doth realize 
 Thy presence, and breathes a tender welcome. 
 See how the waters of the fountains dance 
 For joy, how sings the brook, and list what joyous 
 Notes come swelling from those feathered throats. 
 
 And thou my love, hast helped me build this home. 
 This is thy work and mine, and many are 
 The beauties thou hast wrought herein 
 Since first thou came into this higher sphere. 
 Thou knowest that on thy robes were many a dark 
 Unsightly stain, and each of these did leave 
 Its shadow here concealing much of beauty. 
 And over these it was my wont to place 
 A veil. If at some point I saw a deepening 
 Shadow grow, then straight away I sought 
 Me out some lowly one and brought within 
 Their life some gleam of light, and thus did I 
 A picture or a wreath produce which I 
 Would hang before that naughty stain and hide 
 It from my sight. And then I'd watch to see 
 It fade away. And oft 'twould vanish in 
 
2Q 
 
 A single night, washed out by penitence 
 Of thine. 
 
 And then sometimes they'd take a deeper hue, 
 And I would say, lt My love doth suffer from 
 The thralls of earth," and then I'd hie me to 
 Thy side, and strive by every gentle means 
 To win thee to thy better self. 
 
 And when at last thou felt my near approach 
 And deep contrition did possess thy soul, 
 Then I with joy would watch the shadow flee 
 And take its presence from above our door. 
 
 Oh ! precious Love, of my own soul a part> 
 How often have the shadows come and gone 
 Upon these Avails, while 1 have labored here 
 To build this home. 
 
 Sometimes thou helped me with a noble help, 
 And sometimes, as 1 built, thou didst destroy. 
 But oft'ner far you labored at my side 
 With noble thoughts, and generous deeds, and from 
 Thy ever constant love for me I drew 
 A stimulous and strength, that made my labors 
 Light and filled me with a tenderness for all. 
 And now, in thy dear presence, blessed one, 
 I reap a rich fruition. 
 
 No longer shall I tread Life's upward path 
 Alone, but henceforth hand in hand we'll seek 
 The wisdom that the ages bring. And now, 
 That we have passed the mists that gather o'er 
 The first brief stage of Life's long journey, 
 And have wiser grown by each experience 
 Though 'twere dearly bought, yet we, dear Love, 
 May now rejoice for with the knowledge we 
 Have thus acquired we'll keep all shadows from 
 Our future homes, and with our growing light 
 Illumine those still groping in the dark. 
 
 Poe — Loved of my Life, Mate of my Soul and of 
 Myself a part, here in this blest abode 
 Shall we find rest and peace. To thy dear love 
 I owe much that I am this day. To me, 
 It was and is a strength and shield. Through all 
 The darkest hours of mv life on earth 
 
30 
 
 Thy love did ever cheer and comfort me, 
 And gave me strength and purpose to o'ercome 
 The evil with the good. 
 
 And now, we journey onward hand in hand, 
 Heart pressed to heart, with every inmost thought 
 Of each to other known, to turn no more 
 To lower planes of earth save when on deeds 
 Of love and mercy bent, or if perchance 
 The time do serve, to bring some ray of light 
 To penetrate the gloom of ignorance 
 That shroudeth man in darkness dense and drear. 
 So, from this beauteous spot, Oh ! Brother Man 
 Upon Earth's mundane plane, I cry to you — 
 
 Farewell ! Farewell ! 
 Like the music of a bell 
 Floating downward to the dell — 
 Downward from some alpine height, 
 While the sunset embers bright, 
 Fade upon the hearth of night ; 
 So my spirit, voiceless, breathless, 
 Indestructible and deathless, 
 From the heights of Life Elysian gives to Earth my parting 
 song; 
 
 Downward through the star-lit spaces, 
 Unto Earth's most lowly places, 
 Like the sun-born strains of Memnon, let the music float along, 
 With a wild and wayward rhythm, with a movement deep and 
 
 strong, 
 " Come up higher! " cry the angels. This must be my parting 
 song, 
 
 Earth ! Oh ! Earth ! thou art my Mother, 
 Mortal man ! thou art my Brother, 
 We have shared a mutual sorrow, we have known a common 
 birth ; 
 
 Yet with all my soul's endeavor, • 
 I will sunder, and forever, 
 Every tie of human passion that can bind my soul to earth — : 
 Every slavish tie that binds me to the things of little worth. 
 "Come up higher" cry the angels! "come, and bid farewell 
 
 to Earth." 
 I would bear a love Platonic to the souls in earthly life ; 
 
3i 
 
 I would give a sign Masonic to the hei-oes in the strife ; 
 I have been their fellow-craftsmen, bound apprentice to the Art, 
 Whereby Life, that cunning draughtsman, builds his temple in 
 the heart. 
 
 But with earth no longer mated, I have passed the First Degree ; 
 
 I have been initiated to the second mystery. • 
 
 Oh ! its high and holy meaning not one soul shall fail to see ! 
 Now, with loftiest aspirations, onward through the worlds I 
 march, 
 
 Through the countless constellations, upward to the Royal Arch, 
 
 II Come up higher!" cry the angels: ''come up to the Eoyal 
 Arch." 
 
 Farewell ! Farewell ! 
 Like the tolling of a bell, 
 Sounding forth some funeral knell, 
 Tolling a sad refrain, 
 Not for those who rest from pain ; 
 But for those who still remain ; 
 So sweet pathos will I borrow, 
 From the loving lips of sorrow, 
 Weaving in a plaintive minor with the cadence of my song, 
 For the hearts that lonely languish, 
 For the souls that break with anguish, 
 For the weak ones and the tempted, who must sin and suffer 
 
 long; 
 For the hosts of living martyrs, groaning 'neath some ancient 
 
 wrong ; 
 For the cowards and the cravens, who in guilt alone are strong. 
 But from all Earth's woe and sadness, 
 All its folly and its madness, 
 1 would never strive to save you, or avert the evil blow ; 
 Even if I would, I could not, 
 Even if I could, I would not 
 Turn the course of Time's great river, in its great majestic flow; 
 Grapple with those mighty causes whose results I may not know; 
 All life's sorrows end in blessings, as the future yet shall show. 
 From Life's overflowing beaker, I have drained the bitter 
 draught, 
 Changing to a maddening icnor in my being as I quaffed. 
 I have felt tho hot blood rushing o'er its red and rameous path, 
 
32 
 
 Like the molten lava, gushing in its wild, volcanic wrath ; 
 Like a bubbling, boiling geyser, in the region of the pole ; 
 Like a Scylla or Charybdis, threatening to engulf the soul. 
 Oh ! for all such fire-wrought natures, let my rhythmic num- 
 bers tell ; 
 Vulnerable, like Achilles, only in one fatal part, 
 I am wounded by Life's arrows, in the head, but not the heart. 
 u Come up higher," cried the angels ; and I hastened to depart. 
 
 Farewell ! Farewell ! 
 
 Like a merry marriage bell, 
 
 Pealing with a tunefull swell, 
 Telling in a joyful strain, 
 With a whispered sweet refrain, 
 Of the hearts no longer twain ; 
 
 So, no longer cursed aud fated, 
 
 Fondly loved and truly mated, 
 I can pour my inspiration pure as Orpheus through my strain. 
 
 Gifted with a sense of seeing, 
 
 Far beyond my earthly being, 
 I can feel I have not suffered, loved, and hoped, and feared in 
 
 vain ; 
 Every earthly sin and sorrow I can only count as gain ; 
 I can chant a grand " Te Deum," o'er the record of my pain. 
 
 Ye who grope in darkness blindly, 
 
 Ye who seek a refuge kindly, 
 Ye upon whose hearts the ravens, ghostly ravens, perch and prey. 
 
 Listen ! for the bells are ringing, 
 
 Tuneful as the angels singing, 
 Ringing in the glorious morning of your spirit's marriage day, 
 When the soul no longer fettered to the feeble form of clay, 
 To a high harmonious union, soars, elate with hope away. 
 Where the iris arch of Beauty bridges o'er celestial skies, 
 Where the golden line of Duty, like a living pathway lies, 
 Where the gonfalon of Glory floats upon the fragrant air, 
 Ye who read Life's lengthening story, find a Royal Chapter 
 
 there. 
 Ye shall see how men and nations o'er the ways of life advance; 
 Ye shall watch the constellations in their mazy mystic dance ; 
 And the Central Sun shall greet you, greet you with a golden 
 
 glance. 
 Oh ! for souls in Life Eternal let the bells in gladness ring ; 
 
33 
 
 Bind the wreath of orange blossoms, and the wedding garment 
 
 bring. 
 " Come up higher," cry the angels. Let the bells in gladness 
 
 ring. 
 
 Farewell ! Farewell ! 
 Like the chiming of the bells, 
 Which a tale of triumph tells, 
 As the news in tuneful notes, 
 Leaping from their brazen throats, 
 On the startled ether floats ; 
 So in freedom great and glorious, 
 Over flesh and sense victorious ; 
 Does the spirit leap the barrier which across the pathway lies 
 Greater far than royal Ceesar, 
 Fearless as the northern iEser, 
 Drawn by Love's celestial magnet, winged with faith and hope 
 
 it flies, 
 Upward o'er the starry pathway leading onward through the 
 
 skies, 
 To the land of Light and Beauty, where no bud of promise dies. 
 There through all the vast Empyrean, 
 Wafted, as on gales Hesperian, 
 Comes the stirring cry of " Progress ! " telling of the yet to be. 
 Tuneful as the seraph's lyre, 
 11 Come up higher ! " " come up higher ! " 
 Cry the hosts of angels ; learn the heavenly Masonry ! " 
 Life is one eternal progress ; enter, then, the Third Degree ; — 
 Ye who long for light and wisdom, seek the Inner Mystery ! 
 Thus oh! sons of Earth, I leave you; leave you for that higher 
 
 light; 
 And my charge is now, Beceive you all my parting words 
 
 aright. 
 Human passions, mad ambition, bound me to this lower Earth, 
 Even in my changed condition, even in my higher birth. 
 But by earnest, firm endeavor, I have gained a height sublime ; 
 And I ne'er again, no never, shall be bound to Space or Time ; 
 I have conquered ! and forever ! Let the bells in triumph chime ! 
 "Come up higher," cry the angels; "come up to the Boyal 
 
 Arch ! 
 Come and join the Past Grand Masters, in the Soul's progres- 
 sive march, 
 
34 
 
 Oh ! thou neophite of Wisdom ; Come up to the Koyal Arch ! " 
 Sons of Earth ! where'er ye dwell, 
 Break temptation's magic spell ! 
 Truth is Heaven, and Falsehood Hell ! 
 Lawless Lust, a demon fell ! 
 Sons of Earth ! where'er ye dwell, 
 In this Heaven, or in this Hell, 
 When ye hear the solemn swell 
 Of Creation's mighty bell 
 Sounding forth Time's funeral knell, 
 Ye shall meet me where I dwell ; 
 Until then, Farewell ! Farewell ! 
 
 Curtain falls. 
 
 Notk. — The " Farewell " is taken from the published works of 
 Lizzie Doten, through whom it was spoken while in an entranced 
 condition. The entrancing power claimed to be Edgar A. Poe. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 016 102 652 9 
 
 BEING, PER SE, 
 
 Its Planes of Manifestation anil Modes of Action 
 
 By JOHN FRANKLIN CLARK. 
 
 Chapter I Axioms. 
 
 II Evolution of the first world. 
 
 III The Solar System. 
 
 IV The Saturnain System. 
 
 V Evolution of the first universe. 
 
 VI The present or sixth universe. 
 
 VII Stages of World life. 
 
 VIII World government. 
 
 IX Progress of World from Sun to Comet. 
 
 X The Planetoids. 
 
 IX Development of Forms. 
 
 XII The Unity of Being. 
 
 XIII Mind, 
 
 XIV Stratification of a World's Spheres. 
 XV Form determines the manifestation. 
 
 XVI The Arch of Evolution. 
 
 XVII Origin of Species. 
 
 XVIII Transmission of Light and Sound- 
 
 XIX Development controlled by the magnetic condi- 
 tion, or Sensorium of the Form. 
 
 XX Nothing Created. All things evolved or con- 
 structed. 
 
 XXI Postulates and general conclusions. 
 
 Plates and Explanations. 
 
 This work is ready for the printer and will soon be published. 
 
 Orders from the trade will be filled by the American News 
 Company. Orders for single copies may be sent to the author at 
 89 Liberty Street, N. Y. Price, ONE DOLLAR.