Every morning, soon after waking, even while dressing or having my nursery breakfast, I saw visions of most beautiful places.  In whatever direction I happened to be looking, the Physical view of wall, door, ceiling, or whatever it was, would disappear, and in its place would gradually come valleys, gentle slopes, lovely trees and banks covered with flowers of every shape and hue.  The scene seemed to extend for many miles, and I was conscious that I could see much further than was possible with the ordinary physical scenery around me.  The most entrancing part to me was the restful, velvety green of the grass that covered the ground of the valley and the hills.  Walking about, in couples usually and sometimes in groups, were people who looked radiantly happy.  They were dressed in graceful flowing draperies, for the greater part, but every movement, gesture and expression suggested an undefinable and yet positive way a condition of deep happiness, a state of quiet ecstasy.  I remember thinking to myself, "How different they are, how different from the 'Down here' people, how full of love and light and peace they are.  No fear, or doubt, or dreadful mystery is there."  It all looked too expressive of Life and Joy to be in any way connected with the unsatisfactory state in which I mentally lived.

"I did not at the time, look upon these visions as  anything abnormal or unusual."

At first they thought I was "making it up," but as I was so persistent, and described many of the visions so minutely, they were forced to the conclusion that there was something in it—something which was not in line with their conventional way of looking at things.  I was sternly forbidden to see or look for the Happy Valley again!


. . . little by little, my visions disappeared.  This was a great deprivation.

A week or two later I again went out of my body, but this time I was not in the least nervous.  I saw Philip standing close to my bed as if he were waiting to take me somewhere.  I lost again for a few moments the power of conscious thinking, until I suddenly found myself standing in a most beautiful garden at the edge of a small wood.  Philip and I walked along together, and he pointed out various beautiful places to me, in particular a wide stream running under a charming rustic bridge.  He said to me, “This is like my home on the earth-Plane.”

I seemed to be floating or flying towards a very bright place.  On nearing it I saw a large stone house, with a veranda and terraces in front flanked by roses.  Several broad steps led up to a wide doorway, and standing on the top was a lady who had recently passed over, who used to visit me in order to communicate with her husband who had died four or five years previously, and whom she adored.  She always longed to join him, and used to say to me, "What will it be like over there?  Well, it doesn't matter much what it's like as my beloved George is there, and we can have our own home and garden as we had on the earth."

When she saw me coming towards her she smiled, and held out both hands to me, eagerly.  Her expression was of radiant happiness (how often one is forced to use the word radiant in describing the people and life on the Other Side!  It's the only word that fits.)  She was a handsome woman, and I noticed that she was dressed as carefully as ever, though I was puzzled to see that she was wearing a dress of somewhat old-fashioned design, and when she lived on earth every article of her clothing had to be the latest thing in fashion.

This particular dress was of the tight-fitting princess shape, made of cream-coloured "piece" lace, and it had a slight train.  Just as I noticed these details, I found myself being drawn back to my body again.  Somebody had knocked on my bedroom door, and I awoke, feeling rather disappointed that I had not been able to speak to my friend, or she to me; but I had brought back the knowledge that she was thoroughly happy.  I afterwards found out that the lace dress was one that her husband had loved her to wear when on earth.  I never saw her again, but occasionally she brought me the scent of red roses, and sometimes violets, of both of which she was very fond.

A few weeks after his passing I was spending the week-end with friends near Harrow.  On the Sunday afternoon my hostess insisted on my going to my bedroom and laying down to rest.  I prepared to doze.  Instead, I began to feel very much awake, but felt the same sensation of leaving my body as I described before.  Suddenly I found myself standing in a very pretty garden, stocked with every kind of flower.  A little way to the left was a house.

Looking around, I knew I had been permitted to visit the Spirit World again.

As I stood in the garden, I noticed that close to me on the right was a wooden shed.  I walked in.  The place looked like a small engineering works.  Suddenly a man stepped quickly out of the adjoining room, and to my joy I recognized Colonel Halifax.

"Mrs. Leonard, I'm so glad you've come to see me," he said.  "now let me tell you something quickly, while there's time.  It's all true.  All I was told about the life here was true.  Only it's so much better than I was told it would be."  He said this with great emphasis, as if he longed to impress me with the sense of his happiness.

He told me that his wife had met him immediately after his passing, and that his joy in the reunion was great and deep.  Then he said, "There is someone here whom I wish you to meet, Mrs. Leonard, and please look at her well, so that you will remember her when you return to your physical body."  (He evidently was quite aware that I was only on a temporary visit to the Spirit World, and that I should be leaving again almost immediately.)

I turned, hoping to see his wife, but I saw at once that it could not be she, as during his earth life Colonel Halifax had given me a description of her, and the woman he now beckoned forward had a very different personality; indeed, she was so striking in colouring and figure that a description of her would not have fitted one woman in a thousand.

A moment after I felt myself being drawn away from the place and found myself in my physical body, lying on the bed in my friend's house.

About a fortnight later a sister of Colonel Halifax came to have a sitting with me.  I had not met her before, but her brother had told her, during his life here, about me.  After the sitting I told her about my visit to her brother's spirit home.  I omitted the description of the shed as it puzzled me, and seemed so unlike anything the Colonel would be interested in.  But when I described the—to me—unknown lady, she said, "That was one of the people he loved best in the world.  She was the aunt who brought him up, took the place of a mother to him.  He was devoted to her, right up to the time she died."

I was pleased to hear this, and felt sure that Colonel Halifax's critical and clever mind had arranged for me to meet his aunt instead of his wife, as he knew that I had never heard of the existence of the former, and it would be so much more evidential for me, and would prove to me that I had really been to his spirit home and seen him.  It was just like Colonel Halifax to think all this out, as he was always very keen on "evidence."

A few weeks later the sister passed over, too, very suddenly, and it was good to feel that her last days were happier because she had heard of her brother.

The engineering shed still stuck in my mind; I could not imagine what connection it had with Colonel Halfiax.

Several months afterwards I met a friend of the Colonel's, and while talking about him I felt impelled to ask if the Colonel had ever been interested in engineering.  The friend replied, "Of course he had.  He had been a very clever engineer, and was very fond of it, too!"  I was pleased with this information as it was something altogether outside my knowledge of him.

How very much like the earth this other world looks!  At least, that portion of it that I have seen when visiting the different friends who have passed away.  There appear to be houses, gardens, meadows, woods, lakes, but I have never seen what I would call a manufacturing town, a colliery town, or anything approximating to one; at least, not on the plane where I have seen these normal, everyday sort of people like Colonel Halifax, and my other friends.

That there are other conditions than this third sphere, as it is called, I am well aware.  I have never been to the higher ones, or if I have, I have not remembered on returning to my physical condition again.  We probably often visit the "third sphere" during sleep, but we forget it on awaking.  Undoubtedly, just as there is the physical world, or condition, so is there the spiritual or etheric world, or condition.

It has been my sad and painful experience to visit, during sleep, some of the lower planes, especially where the poor mistaken souls go who have committed suicide.


Oh, the difference between the sphere to which such a one goes, and the happy planes which I have described to you!


One visit to such a place remains in my mind above all others.  I realized that I had left my earth body, and after experiencing that "upward" motion which I have mentioned before, I found myself floating over a curious, desolate, rocky country.  Dark gloomy rocks, forming caverns and crevices, pools of dark water, and an overwhelming feeling of loneliness are what I remember most strongly about this sinister plane.


I found myself drawing nearer to one particular man.  I could see him distinctly, as I was so close to him.  His look of abject hopelessness was terrible, and changed occasionally to a kind of puzzled wonder as to what he was doing over there.  I felt overcome with pity for him.  My feeling was so intense, he seemed to feel it, or sense it.

Something that looked—or did I only imagine it?—like a faint ray of hope illuminated his face.  I wanted to speak to him, but immediately found myself being drawn back to my physical body again.  I awoke, remembering clearly every detail of the place, the people, and of this particular man's appearance.  I felt impressed to pray for him, and did so. 

Two days later, Sir Walter Gibbons [a theatre impressario who was a friend of Gladys] called to see me, looking very tired and exhausted.  I asked him what was the matter.  He replied, “I have had an awful time on the astral plane during sleep.  The night before last I was taken to the plane where some suicides go, and there I saw my old friend—who killed himself the previous day, because he had got so terribly into debt and financial trouble.”

“Wait a moment,” I said, “I think I have been there, too; wait till I describe some of it to you.”

I did so, and alternately Sir Walter and I described details of the place to each other, until we were certain we had actually been to the same plane, and seen the same man, at the same time, though I did not remember seeing Sir Walter, and he did not recollect seeing me.


This was not the only plane of which Sir Walter and I brought back complete and detailed memories.  Sometimes, on awakening from such an experience, Sir Walter would look at his watch and write down the exact time.  I did not do that, because in my bedroom I can hear the grandfather's clock chime in the hall below, and usually get a good idea of the time from that.  Several times I noticed that I must have “come back” about five minutes to six, as the clock chimed six almost immediately after I awoke.  Later, on comparing these notes, Sir Walter and I always agreed regarding the time of our return to our earth bodies.


The plane that Sir Walter and I disliked visiting even more than the one where we saw the suicides, was a place to which we went several times before we discovered what it was, and why it existed.

I have hesitated a great deal as to whether I should describe this particular sphere or not.  Yet I feel it cowardly to shirk truth because it is unpleasant, and it seems a very poor policy always to present one side of a picture, and purposely to ignore the other, when one knows it exists.  Let us dwell on the happy, hopeful aspects of life as much as we will, but we must not imagine there are no evils to be cleared away.  While we pretend there are none, or purposely avoid discussing, or trying to tackle them, we help them to accumulate, just as one would by ignoring the presence of dirt or dust in a room, because one didn't want to raise trouble by making an onslaught on it. 

While I was—wrongly, I know—considering the advisability of omitting this chapter, I put out my hand, without thinking, and reached for a book that stood on a table near by.  I opened it idly and at random, and staring me in the face were these words:

They are slaves who fear to speak
For the fallen and the weak;
They are slaves who will not choose
Hatred, scoffing, and abuse,
Rather than in silence shrink,
From the truths they needs must think.
They are slaves who dare not be
In the right with two or three.
                                               J. R. Lowell

This made me ashamed of my hesitation, so I must just tell you briefly what we saw in those lower regions.  I must give my own idea of them, but Sir Walter has seen the same, or some of the places, too.

On my first few visits I was so puzzled as to the nature of the places, that I only brought back a feeling of abhorrence, and a vague memory of animals being there.  I quietly thought it over during the day, and sent out a mental request that my Guides, or whoever was sending me to these places during sleep, would give me some enlightenment as to the purpose of their existence.  Otherwise it seemed a waste of time, if I was just going there to have my feelings harrowed by something I did not in the least understand. 

For some time after I did not see these places, and thought my visits must have been brought to an end by my instinctive dislike of them, and I felt that I must make a conscious effort to control such a feeling in which there might be lurking an element of fear, which often inhibits genuine “out of the body” travelling and experiences.

I must mention here that I have noticed that the real astral, or etheric, experiences are stopped by reluctance or fear, but that ordinary dreams or nightmares, the kind that are caused by indigestion or some other physical disturbance that affects the brain, are not stopped; in fact, the more one fears, the more one is harassed by them.  Many people have told me so, and children, too.

One night, soon after I recognized this fact, I found myself leaving the physical body, but instead of the soaring upward motion, I had a heavy weighted feeling, as if I were forced to travel in a horizontal position, and suddenly found myself in a narrow, dark street.  I found I could just stand upright now, as if I were adjusting myself more easily to the atmosphere, but I did not want to put my feet on the ground as it was covered with mud and slime.  Gloomy buildings, like stables, huddled against each other so closely that they almost touched, leaving only sufficient room for one to walk between.  Here and there I saw a wider opening, which appeared to lead into a kind of yard, into which the doors of some of the stables opened.  I looked in and saw that the yard was crowded with animals—bullocks, pigs and sheep—dead, and yet alive.  I knew they were dead,  but I could also see that they were alive, too.  They moved very slightly, many lay on the ground.  I understood at once from their appearance that they had just been slaughtered.

I pulled myself together with a tremendous effort.  The place and everything in it was so horrible that I did indeed have to make an effort—a great one.  I noticed that there was a great difference in the substance of this plane, compared with that of the planes where I had seen ordinary discarnate human life.  Even the suicides' plane was different, inasmuch as it seemed fixed and solid.  This dreadful place gave me the impression that it had but temporary existence.  I will not go into more details of the place and the condition of the animals, but only tell you that it was indeed most dreadful and repulsive in every possible sense.

I soon became aware that somebody was speaking to me, somebody whom I could not see, and who seemed to be a long way off.  This person, who I afterwards found out was one of my spiritual Guides, told me that the place lay between the earth and etheric planes.  Its misery was due to the tremendous slaughtering of animals for food that takes place daily; so much strong animal life is suddenly forced  out of the actual physical condition into one that is very close indeed  to earth, and yet is in no way part of the spiritual world.  What happens to the animal astrals, I do not know.  I was only shown this horrible scene on the astral side, which followed all the killing and pain on the earth side.  In the very air around me was a most definite feeling of terrible fear, suffering, and blind  resentment that was even more tangible than the buildings and walls. 


Now, up to a short time ago I had been a flesh-eater.  Every day I had my cutlet, cut off the joint, or piece of chicken.  It always looked so nice and appetizing that somehow one hadn't thought of it as being a piece of something that had walked and breathed, and felt pain and discomfort, just as we do ourselves.  From time to time Feda [Gladys's spirit 'control'] had tried to discourage me and other people, too, from eating meat, but as there is only a limited amount of power that can be used, I had been obliged to devote it to the needs of bereaved sitters, and so had little opportunity of questioning Feda on this point.  Now, after all I had seen, and the explanation given me of the reason for the existence of this horrible plane, I felt I wanted to ask several questions, so I got one or two sitters to ask Feda about it, while they were talking to her through me.

One thing we asked was, “What would happen if we all suddenly stopped eating meat?  Surely, the world would be overrun with cattle, sheep and other animals?”

“No,” said Feda.  “You wouldn't be overrun with them because you would stop breeding them.  There would not be anything like the number you have got if you hadn't purposely encouraged them by breeding them.”

She said that, in time, as people understood more of the Spiritual World, they would eat less flesh, and be better for it, and from my own more recent personal experience, I have come to the definite conclusion that Feda was right.  Since I gave up meat entirely a few years ago, my health has improved very much, in spite of strenuous work done under sometimes very difficult conditions.  My husband, too, has found great benefit through becoming a vegetarian, and the same has been told us by many of our friends.  My mind is clearer, and I am more “open” to direct spiritual guidance than I used to be.

You must not think that all animals that die, or have to be “put to sleep,” go to such places as I have described.  An animal that you have loved and who has loved you, whether it be horse, dog, cat, or bird, goes usually to the third sphere where somebody takes care of it, and where it leads a normal animal life (except that it doesn't reproduce its species as it would on earth), and is even brought to see you at times while you are still on earth.  I know you will meet your pets, the animal companions that you have loved.  I have seen my special cats, and also a dog, a pekinese, to whom my husband and I were much attached.  It seems as if the animals who love, and are loved, attain to spiritual rights and have an after-life in the spiritual world, just as we do.  Whether their “post-physical” lives continue for ever, I do not know.  I rather doubt it; that is, I doubt if they continue everlastingly in animal form, but they certainly live for a considerable time in the shape we loved and knew them by, and, thank goodness, they will live with us again when we pass over.