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.Below the racial instinct of scepticism there is, I think, a still deeperrock-bottom perception that this is so.For, if one analyzes it down, mendo not dread death.What they dread is the dying.196 This can be proved any day by a glance at the newspapers--that men do notfear death itself, I mean.From war to the simplest wayside rescue,men--not heroes, just plain ordinary men--unhesitatingly make what isknown as the "supreme sacrifice." That is to say, they do so if the caseis open and shut and they have no time to think of the possible maiming,pain, hospitals, crippling that may lie in wait on the way out.So as tothe more usual procedure in merely growing old and passing out, we dreadthe approach of the close of life, not because it is the close, butbecause we fear it will be preceded by the disabilities and helplessnessof senility.I think, if we could dig down to the secret thoughts ofthose on the threshold of those final years we would find there a senseof congratulation, perhaps of envy, whenever a contemporary is takensuddenly, without warning.That the black-looking barrier across old age is not as formidable as itappears from a distance we have discussed in the chapter before this.Wehave had the testimony of certain of those who should know about it, thedwellers themselves of those later years.But the general feeling is thatwe have no such first-hand information as to death.Nobody, says theaverage man, has ever come back to tell us about it.And, he would add,if someone did I wouldn't believe it.2Well, of course, the latter part of that statement cannot be argued.Butthe first part is debatable.There have been reported and attested manyexperiences where men have died physically, according to the best medicaltests, and have revived to tell about it.The interesting part of that isthat they all say much the same things.As to one matter they areunanimous.The process is painless, comfortable, pleasurable.Thistestimony is unvarying whether the returned one "died" from disease oraccident.These witnesses are here.One can talk to them face to face.And nobody can deny that it is they who are talking nor that they are theones who apparently "died." The doctor can corroborate that.197 3There are other witnesses who say the same thing, with the elaborationsof wider and further experience in the subject.They are the ones who didnot revive back into our kind of life.We call them the Invisibles.Whathave these people to report? Quite a bit; both in theory and in practice,as one might say.Perhaps it might be a good start if I were to set down the verbatimaccounts of the very few who, for one reason or another, have seen fit totell us how it seemed to them to die.Ordinarily the Invisibles appearnot to bother with that type of curiosity.Once in a while, if we urgedour interest strongly enough, someone might oblige.Occasionally anewcomer seemed to be so full of wonder over the unexpectedness that hewould talk.These latter had the value of fresh impressions.Anyway, hereare a few.The first was a young fellow, a great friend of ours, killed in anautomobile accident."It was all a breathless crash of a hurry with a long-drawn quavery kindof bewilderment.There isn't much joy and rapture at first when you comeso hurriedly and have no one eager for you.You know how it is inlearning any new stunt: it seldom seems as good as the old ones you cando; but there was such a tremendous impulse in me to try to understandthat I soon won out; and now it is so much more wonderful and interestingall the time, I would go through anything to et here.I long to spillover telling you about it.In the first place, it is the realintellectual freedom I always dreamed of, mixed with something else thatinspires and satisfies and expands as intellectual pursuits neveractually do, when you line them up alongside a man building a fence, forinstance.That is the difference here I note the most, the proportion toeverything, nothing lopsided or unbalanced.""Who first met you there?" we asked198 "I don't know exactly myself.So much just seemed to seep into me, as ifI had sprung a leak somewhere.I didn't have any one person taking megently by the hand.All I can say is, in the Bible term, I was just plainministered unto."The next was a woman of middle age who brushed aside as unimportant theactual fact of dying to talk of her reaction to her new estate."In the first place we are just as interested in the novelty of oursurroundings as you were when you first found yourself in Africa.I havea keen delight in everything and am as full of questions as a child.Think of the most alive and intensely exciting moment of your life andmake it a whole day or a week and you will know how I feel over here."By way of variety here is a man, a great friend of ours, who had nevergiven a moment's thought, as far as we knew, to any of these matters.Hisdeath took place only after a painful illness.It is to that he refers inthe first two sentences."I didn't like it much.It was darned uncomfortable, for I suffered a lotand could not be sure of myself for some time.Now I cannot imagine why Idid not understand what was going on and why I made such a fuss about it.I came to without any pain and did not believe it; but that was enoughfor me just at first.I wanted to keep still and feel well.Then I got sofull of pep I ran around in circles.My body didn't interest me much.Idid not hang around it, for I think I passed out and went to sleep atfirst.I saw a man I used to know in the old days.He hung around to besociable and it helped, for at best you feet like a cat in a strangegarret except that it's all so exciting."Now for a simple soul, a colored woman, one of those lifelong retainersin Betty's family, loved by them all."The first person I saw," she answered Betty's question, "was my dearlady, Mrs.Calvert, and my brothers and several others.I was so pleasedto see them I was just tickled to death.I thought I was dreaming and199 would not believe them when they told me.I think I rested some time, forI did not feel a bit tired or sick in my head any more.I am having agrand time, and everybody is so good to me, showing me around andexplaining things."And the last I shall quote from these new immigrants, rather than oldinhabitants, of the new land, was an artist.He had died only a shorttime before, perhaps too recently to permit of direct communication, andit was Betty reporting."A beautiful pattern of transition," said she."There is nothing todying.Just a tickly sensation; that's all.So natural; so real.I amwith F., but there is no desire to talk yet.He tells me there'sabsolutely nothing to it--a DELIGHTFUL experience.He says that themoment he could he came to share the experience with us
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Tematy
IndexWhite James Szpital Kosmiczny 04 Statek Szpitalny
Gribbin John & White Michael W poszukiwaniu kota Schrödingera realizm w fizyce kwantowej
John Connolly Charlie Parker 04 The White Road (com v4.0) (lit)
Aida D. Donald Lion in the White House, A Life of Theodore Roosevelt (2007)
Perez Reverte Arturo Terytorium Komanczow.WHITE
White Patricia Mea Naucz mnie miłoœci
Ellen G. White Życie Jezusa. Konflikt wieków
Suzanne White Nowa podwójna astrologia
Ellen G. White Wielki bój
White Ellen G. Życie Jezusa