Mr. J. A. F. “In Articulo Mortis”

“The following record of the experiences of Mr. J. A. F. in articulo mortis, has been placed in our hands by Isabella C. Blackwood (author of ‘The Elderly House of Blackwood’), who acted as Mr. F.’s amanuensis. We have made all needful inquiries and are fully satisfied of the bona fides of the parties concerned:“

While reading the following account of my experiences in approaching close to the extreme boundary which divides this life from the next, let it be kept in mind that no thought of death, or even of danger, had ever occurred to me until I heard the doctor’s remarks just when he thought the end had come. Therefore the things which passed through my mind were not brought there nor suggested by any influence which the contemplation of death might have produced, but by some other power operating directly on my thoughts. During an intermittent condition of semi-consciousness (almost like a sleepy doze from which one rouses at every slight disturbance) which occurred after the heart had begun to recover its action, a number of strange subjects—things I had not, so far as I know, previously passed a thought—were reviewed and made clear in my mind. One thing was the following:

I seemed to have understood, as in a dream, that I had a double self, or other self, besides this that is called “I.” That “I,” or what passes for “myself,” is an extension endowed with understanding, judgement, reasoning, and designing powers, and capable of willing and remembering, and possessing these qualities in common with, but in an enormous degree superior to, all other species of animal creation. My “other self” is that part which possesses, or is the repository of, conscience; that part whence emanate all good thoughts, desires, and inclinations; which has the power or capability to love; in which are stored up all the scraps or pieces of divine knowledge and wisdom which may have been collected during life (long or short), and, although perhaps for the time forgotten or suppressed by my human self, are still there ready for use when occasion arises; that part of me which is the lodging place of any qualties [sp.] of a Godlike nature, such as charity, faith, &c., and which is capable of appreciating God; in short, that part which is made in the likeness of God, and which never can die, nor grow faint or weary like my human self.

Although I am not aware of ideas such as I have written here having hitherto been presented to my mind, yet they seem so familiar that I feel as if they were just some old ideas recalled, and as if they were quite commonly understood. During the “waking dreams” which I experienced while my human self was simply a helpless, inert existence, hardly alive, these two constituents of my being were to me very distinct and very separate. It seemed as if the one held converse with, or prompted the other; but one thing is undoubted, a supreme influence was exerted over both.

Another subject on which many ideas have come into my thoughts is death, but this has no relation to the account of my experience given below.

On May 16th, 1896, at a few minutes before ten o’clock in the morning, my pulse seemed to stop. On previous occasions, years ago, I had experienced a fluttering or palpitation of the heart, from flatulence, when it beat at an extremely rapid rate, continuing for about ten or fifteen minutes. This was the result of flatulence, and as soon as that was got rid of, the palpitation immediately ceased. On the present occasion I had no thought that there was anything beyond a recurrence of my previous experience, for I had failed to notice that there was no perceptible palpitation, but what seemed to be a complete stoppage of the pulse. In about fifteen minutes the doctor was with me, and administered one dose after another of brandy, until I had taken quite two gills without any other effect than to sicken me. In the meantime a mustard plaster was being prepared, a powerful embrocation being used as a substitute until the plaster was ready.

I told the doctor that my condition arose only from flatulence, which would soon disperse, but he did not relax his endeavors to start the heart’s action again. I lay stretched on my back with a noise in my ears like the roar of a cataract. I believe this was the circulation of the blood, which, though really feeble, seemed so loud that I began to be deaf. Shortly after eleven o’clock I became aware that the noise had greatly decreased, sounding now like the musical whir-r-r of a spinning-wheel—a pleasant, soothing sound.

Now came my first strange experience. There was nothing disturbing my thoughts; I was just in a pleasant sort of langour [sp.], when suddenly I heard the question addressed to me: “Can you not trust Him for one day?” Instantly I knew that this had reference to my wife and child in some way, but I do not remember if I knew or thought what it meant till the end. In a tone of surprise I said: “For one day?” And immediately there was the reply: “A thousand years are but as one day, and what are fifty or sixty?”

Then there came over me the most luxurious feeling of perfect rest which it is impossible to adequately describe. It was not like the rest which a wearied body enjoys; there was no sense of weariness or of worn-out strength, but a feeling of lightness, as if resting on air (if that can be imagined), with every part equally supported in whatever position it was placed. It was simply rest luxurious.

I now know that the circulation was steadily diminishing; and so low had it become that the doctor said my mind must be wandering or unconscious. But I was conscious to the last, by the mercy of God, as the sequel will show; and what was called “wandering” was my speaking out what I was experiencing. I think, however, that there were short periods of something like a doze, when my mind was away, as in a dream, for a few seconds only, as a word or movement around me seems to have aroused or recalled me.

The day was fine, and a very bright sun shone in through the two windows of my room. While I lay with open eyes I saw and recognized everything and all who were about me, heard what was said, and knew what was going on, just as I would at any other time. Another half-hour or so passed by. Then I became aware that the whir-r-r in my ears had ceased, and instead there was a quiet, singing sound, like what, I suppose, everyone has experienced, but very quiet, as when that singing in the ears is dying away.

While I lay with closed eyes I was now the spectator of scenes so magnificent as quite to baffle any adequate description. A light seemed to burst on my surroundings, which made the sun look as a candle does in daylight. I asked the doctor if it had any connections with the Röntgen Rays; and talking about them did not dispel the visions, which I tried to describe to those around. The doctor had told me some time previously that he was experimenting with the Röntgen Rays, and would show me some experiments; hence the question, I suppose. He replied, “Oh, never mind, it is nothing.” And to my wife he said it was hallucinations. He might call it so, but that raises the question, “What is hallucination?”

I then saw standing before me, in this magnificent light, a long street or row of palaces. The first was a blue palace. Its end wall was towards me, as I was looking along the row. Against this wall rose a stair which led to a platform where the entrance to the palace was situated, but out of sight. This stair was of great width, the plateau of great height, and the palace itself in size like a mountain. The walls of the palace from top to bottom appeared to consist of one single sapphire stone. Each step of the stair was a single sapphire. The plateau (on to which I could not see for its height) seemed to throw out scintillating rays of magnificent blue, and the whole structure stood on a foundation of gold. The street or road, or ground, which extended as far as I could see, was of burnished gold, and upon it stood the row of palaces, one after another, and each of a different colour.

It is quite impossible to communicate any idea of the magnificence of the colours. I did not know what colour is until I saw these in the glorious light which displayed them. And while I looked with unrestrained admiration into the blue depths of the wall, which the brilliancy of the light enabled the eye to penetrate like clear deep water, I heard the words, “What are all the jewels and wealth of the world? One step of that stair surpasses the whole.”

Then my attention was turned to the one which stood next—a white palace. In form it was the same as the other, except the stair, but the material was as of diamond. The walls and also the steps were of single diamond stones. At intervals of so many steps the stair was arched across from side to side with wreaths of diamonds, which shone and sparkled like crystallised snow, so dazzling was their whiteness. The plateau threw out a perfect blaze of the whitest light.

The stairs of all the palaces, so far as I could see, were filled with figures in male and female attire, going up, and it seemed as easy as walking on level ground. Their garments were in a sort of Eastern or ancient Roman style, and their manners towards each other were the most graceful and deferential.

Next came an emerald palace, which was in form exactly like the first. And here again I must mention that the colour, green, was of the most beautiful shade imaginable, displayed in a light which extinguished the sun. It was beyond description, beyond conception, beyond comprehension unless seen. It brought to my mind—even in this waking dream, or hallucination, or vision—a thought of which I suppose I must have read or heard at some period of my life, namely, “What attribute of God is displayed or hidden in the colour, green, with which He has clothed all nature?”

And while this thought was in my mind, it was said to me, “Choose which you prefer.” Without hesitation I was just about to choose the emerald, when I was aroused to other thoughts by remarks of the doctor, who was telling my wife that the end was just at hand; that now he could not detect any circulation; that a very short time at the longest (it might be only seconds) was all that could now be looked for, and he had done all that he could do.

Until that moment, as it now appears to me, not a thought of death, or even of danger, had ever crossed my mind; nor had I (which surprises me more) given a single thought to any power higher than the doctor’s. That is so different from my usual practice that I can only explain it to myself by putting the blame on the sudden state of lethargy into which I sank, carrying with me the impression that I had only to get rid of a little flatulence.

Medicines are very powerful agents, and are given us for our use; and doctors and others who have studied medical science should be consulted when occasion requires. But without the favour of Divine aid, both these agents are quite useless; with that favour they become a healing power. I consider that to be the proper meaning of “faith healing.” We are not to expect miracles; but there is nothing to hinder the Almighty from answering prayer in such a way and at such a time as to show that His hand is specially in the matter. It has long been my practice in the case of any illness, not only personal, (for that has rarely been necessary) but in those in whom I am interested, to carry their case to “Our Father,” with perfect confidence that the right issue will follow, whatever it may be; and I have never been disappointed in my hopes.

When the doctor said he had done all he could, and when I realised my position, and at the same moment my unaccountable neglect, I said, “Have you?—Oh! I have not—Feel my pulse.” They saw my whispering attempts to speak and the hand put out, but could not make out the words distinctly. Between the two sentences “I have not,” “Feel my pulse,” which was just a breath, the following long train of thoughts passed through my mind, showing the inconceivable swiftness with which the mind can work when relieved of the body, or nearly so, and completely annihilating time. My thoughts were, “Here have I, for two hours, been lying dying, trusting myself to the doctor’s hands without giving a single thought to the true Physician. How can I have been so negligent? The doctor will most likely take credit to himself for what is about to happen, and what if he does? But I don’t know what to say, I can’t put the words together.”

Then I heard, “What are words?” Your words to a Chinaman or a Frenchman would all be different. He does not care for words. He knows your need better than you can say it.”

“Yes,” I said; “but I know it is a look—a look such as the bitten Israelites cast on the brazen serpent, a look of faith and trust.” And instantly the reply came (or something within me replied, but it seemed to me to be a voice), “That is it.”

With this the doctor’s fingers were on my wrist, and the whole of the above incident last detailed had gone through my mind like a flash.

My wife says the expression which came into the doctor’s face was the most extraordinary transformation imaginable. He had looked dreadfully dull, subdued and depressed, his face quite pale with anxiety. But instantly this changed; a mingled look of astonishment, satisfaction and delight beamed from his face, causing her to ask, “What is it, doctor?” And he looked quite radiant as he replied, “I think it is all right.”

As he touched my wrist the pulse had given a thump against his finger, followed after a pause by two quick beats, and repeating this erratic movement with longer and shorter pauses, as if hesitating whether to stop or go on. This irregular movement continued till late in the evening, when it became quite normal.

In the doctor’s opinion there could hardly be anything more like, or any nearer approach to, a “raising from the dead.” I say that I was so raised.