A Book Written by the Spirits of the So-Called Dead
Religion
A Book Written by the Spirits of the So-Called Dead
Spiritualism
"I was called, and justly so, a drunkard. By nature I was blessed with a
strong and robust constitution, and I was, what is too often a curse, the
child of wealthy parents. My father was rich, and this circumstance proved
my ruin. I was nursed in the lap of luxury, never knew what it was to
want, and consequently had no sympathy for those that suffered, or those
immersed in the fierce struggles of poverty. I disdained to work with my
hands for bread, and knew not the hardships and sorrows of the toiling
millions. My brow was never moistened by the sweat of labor, and I grew up
in the belief that the poor were intended and purposely created to serve
the rich, and were deserving of naught but a bare scanty subsistence. My
life of indolence and ease, my uninterrupted hours of leisure, produced
their inevitable fruit in their accompaniments of vice and immorality.
Idleness, as I now know, is the parent of vice, and riches too frequently
constitute the propagating life germs of wickedness. It was sadly true in
my unhappy case. Oh, fathers, mothers, heed my warning counsel: Train your
children to labor--to work, work, work. Allow but few idle hours for
dissipation and vice. Keep them away, if possible, from the club room,
where intoxicating beverages are indulged in and made inviting by
temptation, and where lascivious conversations only tend to stimulate and
develop the lower passions and propensities of their natures. Wine, fair
to look upon and with frequent imbibations exhilarating, contains within
its alluring embrace a terrible lurking serpent whose venomous sting is
fatal to all that is noble, grand, and holy. It strikes, figuratively
speaking, its poisoned teeth into the very vitals of our being, and the
effect follows us to the other life with its terrible retributive
vengeance. Oh, pity the poor inebriate, and erect all possible barriers
against the terrible ravages of the fell destroyer.
"THE DRUNKARD."
A MISER.
April 24, 1882, came the following:
"I am permitted to come to you to-day to relate something of my history.
There is a twofold purpose in my visit. I am told that this will greatly
benefit me as a spirit still bound to my idol--gold--and that I may be
instrumental in warning others to avoid my condition.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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