“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

CHAPTER
EIGHT:

A Year of Testing—Seth
“Looks Into” Envelopes
and Gives Rob a Few Art Lessons

For the next eleven months, the Seth sessions dealt mainly with test data of one kind or another. At 9 P.M. as usual, Seth would begin with the theoretical material in which we were increasingly interested. At 10 P.M. he gave impressions for Dr. Instream, and after that Rob gave me an envelope if there was to be such a test that evening. If we did have one of our own tests, then we’d sit up after the session, trying to evaluate the results. By then it was usually past midnight, and we would be exhausted.

Although my confidence had risen with the two out-of-body episodes, I felt that I was putting Seth and myself on the line with each test session. I never knew whether or not we would have an envelope test. Often I was afraid of having a session for fear we’d have an envelope test and the results just would not apply. (This never happened, incidentally, though the impressions given were not always as specific as we would have liked.) Actually I didn’t care what was in the envelopes—I just wanted to know if Seth could tell us, and I wanted him to be absolutely right each time. My attitude was bound to have an effect. Now I wonder that Seth was able to do anything with me at all in those days, but most of the time he managed to do very well indeed.

Seth gave thirty-nine impressions. Almost all of them had direct application. Here are several, pertaining to the test object, grouped together for convenience:

The above impressions referred to the test object itself. Now here are some about the page from which the object was taken. Seth said, in consecutive order: “A method of disposal … Something in the vernacular … Gubatorial.” (I was after the word “gubernatorial” here, but as usual Rob recorded it the way I pronounced it in trance.)

“But why didn’t Seth just say ‘sales’?” I asked in exasperation.

There were quite a few other surprises in this test. Not only did Seth pick up this excellent identifying information, but he gave further impressions concerning the whole page from which the test item had been taken. Besides all the sales, there were four articles on the large section. The envelope item didn’t include these, yet Seth gave impressions referring to three of them.

All of this referred to an article dealing with a Dominican seminary founded in Aldeia Nova, Portugal, in 1943. We believe “Illia” an attempt to get at “Aldeia.” The given date was correct, and the article goes on to tell about a young priest, Father Fernandes (F and R—the abbreviation for “Father” is Fr.), who was on a mission in this country to get funds to modernize the seminary. He was also described as organizing a pilgrimage to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary celebrations at Fatima, which is only ten miles from the seminary. The article states that the seminary includes, among other things, its own farm, vineyards, and vegetable and fruit gardens. We think that the “green, as meadow” impression referred to these. The “Januarious” connection doesn’t seem to be related, yet it is highly important because for me personally it had a strong religious connotation: one of my favorite grade-school teachers was a nun, Sister Januarious. The article speaks of the three children who saw the apparition at Fatima, and Seth mentioned a child.

Other impressions dealt with another article headlined “Portugal Shows Dip in Prisoners.” This specifically referred to the need to modernize the “big, old antiquated prisons” that were “of very low standard,” and made several remarks concerning the crime rate in Portugal. The article also stated that Portugal has the lowest per capita income in Europe. Seth’s impressions were fairly obvious here: “Connection with a monstrosity, as of a monstrous building … A disturbance … a determination and a disadvantage … an inadequate performance.”

Seth also gave some other impressions of the page from which the envelope item was taken, besides those dealing with the articles. “A date above … Buttons … some figures and a distant connection with skull shapes … the colors, blue and purple and green … and other round shapes.”

The date of the paper was at the top of the page, of course. Buttons, many of them, are clearly shown in the photographs of clothing for sale. These same models are also the figures Seth mentions, and as you can see from the photograph of the page, the women’s faces give a skull-like impression, with their hair pulled back. The colors mentioned by Seth are listed in the sheet advertisement. Purple, I believe, refers to “Orchid mist.”

This test brought several questions to mind at once, though. How had Seth picked up the information about the entire page, when only a small section of it was in the test envelope? Had some kind of projection on my part been involved, back to the studio bookcase? Seth hadn’t first given impressions of the envelope object itself, then neatly moved on to deal with the entire page; he had shifted back and forth between the two, as if viewing both at once. And why had he not confined his data just to the envelope object?

We asked Seth about these points in a later session, and got some very interesting answers: “A portion is always connected to the whole of which it is part,” he said. “From the torn section, then, to me the whole [page] was present, and from portions of the whole, the whole can be read. With enough freedom on the one hand, and training on the other, Ruburt, speaking for me, could give you the entire copy of The New York Times from a torn corner.

“There were other issues, having to do with Ruburt’s own characteristics. Now it is true, generally speaking, that material of an emotional nature actually has a stronger vitality and is easier to perceive. Beyond this, however, Ruburt has no love for detail” (Seth smiled) “and will always use it as a clue to see where it leads him.

About the tests in general, Seth said: “I was teaching him, and I went along with his natural interests and inclinations. The antagonism he had for testing came not from the idea itself, as much as from the idea of focusing upon detail for detail’s sake. Only when you had that kind of a test did he become antagonistic. In extrasensory perception—as in so-called normal perception—the natural inclinations of the personality dictate the kind of information that will be sought from any available field of data.

This test was funny, really, because Seth was doing beautifully on his own. Then he threw the ball to me, and I nearly fell flat on my face. The envelope item was a bill of Rob’s, dated July 15, 1966. The session was on August 1. I’d been with Rob at the lumberyard when he got the bill. (See the illustrated section).

Here are some of Seth’s impressions: “Four square, or four and four square.” (We thought this was very good. Rob had the two pieces of Masonite cut in half so they’d fit into our car. This gave him four pieces, each four-foot square.)

All in all, Seth gave twenty-four impressions. Each of them did apply, though some were not as specifically connected as others. For example, Seth said: “Connection with black, symbolic of death; and with a tournament, again symbolic, as of a crossing of swords.” We believe that this was a reference to World War II, when the salesman who waited on us had his portrait done as a soldier. Another example was this: “Numbers … perhaps 01913.” The bill did have numbers on it, and in a series that began with 0 (this seemed unusual to us), but not in the order given by Seth. One series begins with 09 (not 019); and the last two digits, 1 and 3, do appear by themselves on the front of the bill.

Up to this point the impressions had come through with no concern on my part. I was in a deep trance. Then Seth said: “The feeling of something hanging over, threatening or overhanging, on the upper half of the object, and dark.” As I spoke these words for Seth, a rift seemed to open up—a doubt as to the information’s interpretation. I knew that Seth wanted me to narrow this down myself, and that this was part of my training.

I had the feeling of something very heavy hanging over me. Was this to be translated into an object like, say, a heavy roof over my head, or to an emotional feeling that “hung over me”? I didn’t know—and at that point I couldn’t figure it out. The correct specific connection wasn’t made. Seth threw me another: “Something bright and small also, beneath this overhanging or threatening portion.” Here again, left to my own devices, I couldn’t work my way to the specific data we wanted.

Yet Seth was trying to lead me to the word “roofing.” It was in the heading of the bill, on the upper half. See how correct and yet ambiguous that unfinished impression was—“the feeling of something hanging over, threatening or overhanging, on the upper half of the object, and dark.”

Here Seth’s impressions had been quite literal, as if the words on the bill were coming to life and being described as objects instead of as words describing objects. Later I was to do much better when Seth left some impressions up to me, but this kind of training was invaluable. Even though I didn’t do a very good job, we learned something about the nature of perception, which was Seth’s intent. This test made us suspect that all impressions, extrasensory or otherwise, are initially nonverbal and nonvisual, more like pure feeling that is only later interpreted in sense terms.

Seth said: “A connection with a family record, as a page, for example, from a book … connected also with a turbulent event or unpleasantness … four numbers in a row, and other numbers, the initial M, a connection with another city.”

After the session we opened the envelope. It contained a patient’s record sheet, a page from a pad that Nora had picked out of a wastebasket in another office. At the bottom corner were four numbers in a row, with other numbers on the top by the patient’s name, Margaret. Her hometown also began with an M; she was from out of town. A hospital stay is certainly unpleasant, often turbulent. Seth also gave other impressions concerning the woman’s background, but we couldn’t check these out.

Yet sometimes I’d get discouraged even over good results. One test had pleased me no end at first. It was our 37th, held in the 237th session on March 2, 1966. The target item was a print Rob had taken of his own hand a week earlier, when we were reading some books on palmistry. Seth’s impressions couldn’t have been more concise. I went around the house with a smile on my face just thinking of it for days afterward.

“He might,” Rob admitted. “But the fact is, we’ve received plenty of letters that I could have used since then. We also did work in handwriting analysis; I could have used one of those samples. I could have used something older than you are—as I’ve done before. I could have used anything. No matter what we use, Seth still has to describe a particular item. And those impressions weren’t general; they could only refer to that specific hand print.”

The overall results of our own envelope tests encouraged us to hope that Seth was doing fairly well on the regular Instream data, too. We started these with zeal and energy.

For one year, twice a week, Seth gave his impressions as to Dr. Instream’s activities. These included specific references as to names, initials, dates, and places. Some of this data could be easily checked out. Dr. Instream wanted Seth to concentrate on naming a particular object, though, upon which he would be concentrating in the distant town in which he lived. It became obvious that emotional elements were more important; that activities of an emotional nature “came through” more clearly than impressions of a more neutral object. Seth did give material pertaining to objects also, but he was more apt to give specific information on Dr. Instream’s daily life.

Apparently he was. And our own results were presenting difficulties. Dr. Instream admitted that he didn’t know how to evaluate them statistically. A hit had to have so many known odds against it before it could be credited, and it was nearly impossible to set up odds against any particular statement made by Seth.

Seth told Dr. Instream that he would be moving to a Midwestern university by the end of the year, for example. I have no idea if Dr. Instream had any indication of this ahead of time, but he did move when Seth said he would, and to a Midwestern university. We never learned how many correct impressions even of this sort checked out. Enough of them would have added up to something. So would a high enough percentage of hits on specific names and dates and so forth, statistics or no.

This time Peg and Bill went to Nassau. Again, neither Rob nor I have been there. Again, we exchanged no cards, letters, or communications of any kind. But to my delight, Seth certainly knew where the Gallaghers were staying. In a series of impressions one night (October 17, 1966), he accurately described their hotel:

Each point was correct. We went over the material with the Gallaghers on their return. But there was much more. Seth had correctly described a nightclub they’d visited, then went on to mention that there had been a “nuisance there.” Bill and Peg wholeheartedly agreed. They’d been annoyed by a loud-mouthed English tourist. So, obviously, had others. The Englishman insisted upon whistling with the band. Seth also said that there were eighteen shrubs out in front of the nightclub, but Bill had to admit that though there were shrubs out front, he hadn’t thought of counting them.

Seth seemed to pick up things that had particular emotional meaning for Peg and Bill. For instance, he included among other impressions, “a commemoration of a murder … a statue …” It developed that the Gallaghers had passed a statue, a memorial to Sir Harry Oakes who had been murdered in a sensational, well-publicized case in 1943. Peg was so curious about this that she even questioned a cab driver on his knowledge of the murder events.

Then, strangely, Seth gave a very specific description of a place Peg and Bill visited, but with one distortion, apparently of wording. “A fountain with steps leading up to it; a circular formation surrounded by flowers, with closely crowded, old, two-story structures to the left of the street and very close to it, in rows.” Everything was correct, except that there was a water tower rather than a fountain.

In any case, I always think of that “testing year” as beginning with the Gallaghers’ trip to Puerto Rico and ending with their Nassau trip. As far as we were concerned, Seth had proven himself. After a year’s work we wrote to Dr. Instream, ending the tests and giving our reasons. After a few more envelope tests, we ended those, too.

Actually, I’m not sorry that we took so much time for the tests, but I’m glad we ended them when we did. I’m not temperamentally suited to putting myself under fire twice a week, which is what I was doing with the attitude I had at the time. Emotionally I disliked the tests; intellectually I thought them necessary. Seth didn’t seem to mind them at all, but I forced myself to go along because I thought I should. The fact remains that in our sessions the best instances of ESP have occurred spontaneously or in response to someone’s need, and not when we were trying to prove anything. I knew I was disappointed not to get some sort of “certificate of legitimacy” from Dr. Instream. On the other hand, we didn’t ask for one; we were too burned up not to have reports on the results.

Now we could concentrate on the Seth Material. Freed from the test structure, the sessions were ready to go places. We were in for many surprises. If I’d had more faith in Seth’s abilities and my own, I could have saved myself a lot of trouble. Actually, even while we were conducting the ESP tests, other things were happening and not only in sessions.

Very shortly after the sessions began, Rob started to see visions or images. Some were subjective, but others were objectified—three-dimensional, or nearly so. Some were of people, and Rob began to use them as models for his paintings. Now our living room is full of portraits of people we don’t “know.” Seth has said that some depict ourselves in past lives. One, used in this book, is a portrait of Seth in the form in which he chose to appear to Rob. (Since then, a student and a friend of ours have both seen Seth as he appears in this picture.)

Rob has a strong visual memory. Once he sees such an image, he retains it and can refer back to it at will. My visual memory is poor, in contrast, and so is my eyesight (I have no depth perception). Rob is a professional artist, an excellent draftsman and technician. Yet in sessions, Seth has given Rob excellent advice and information on the techniques and philosophy of art. This strikes us as really funny, since I paint as a hobby, with a stubborn lack of perspective. Rob used to try to teach me perspective, but the lessons just wouldn’t take. I’ve never studied art, and my paintings are rather childish in execution, done with raw color. Yet Seth told Rob how to mix and use certain pigments, and Rob has added the information to his repertoire. Seth says that he has no artistic ability either, but questions artists who have entered his own field of reality.

In one session, Seth gave some pointers that Rob immediately put to use. The picture is one of our favorites, and belongs to Rob’s “people series”—portraits of people we’ve never met. The inspiration for this particular painting came to Rob suddenly a few days after the session in question, and he used the techniques Seth had given in its execution.

Here are a few excerpts from that session: “In a portrait,” Seth said, “do the same exercise as given earlier: [that is], imagine the individual as the center of all life, so that when the painting is completed, it automatically suggests the whole universe of which the individual is part. Nothing exists in isolation, and this is the secret that the old masters knew so well.

After the session Rob told me he was quite certain that I didn’t consciously possess such knowledge—that my mind “didn’t work that way.” Rob had never tried this particular method of building up color tones in portrait work, and it is this technique he used in the painting idea that “came to him” a few days after this session. Later Seth added to this information. We are still accumulating material on art, art philosophy, and painting techniques.

Seth has dropped some hints as to the identity of the artist who is passing on this data to him. According to what he’s said so far, the artist was a fourteenth-century Dane or Norwegian, and was known for his domestic scenes and still lifes. We have been told that his name will come in future sessions, along with other information on art.

Seth did say, however, that Rob’s picture using the color-building technique is a portrait of the artist in question. (See illustrated section.) He also said that Rob would do other paintings of both the artist and his environment, including possibly the artist’s studio.

In the past, Rob’s portraits were representations of personalities involved with us personally through association or past life connections—as far as we know. Some of them still have to be identified. Lately, however, the range of the portraits has been extended. Rob did one of a young man recently, for example (see illustrated section). He had no idea who it was. Later one of my students, George, picked out the painting as a portrait of a personality called Bega, who communicates with him through automatic writing. Seth corroborated this, and said that Bega is one of his own students in another level of reality.

Though the sessions continued as usual, we found ourselves having other experiences then, like Rob’s visions, that also developed out of the Seth Material in one way or another. And as if to stress our new sense of freedom and further add to my confidence and training, Seth was to send me to California during a session, while he and Rob talked in the living room of our apartment in Elmira, New York. So much more fun than trying to tell the contents of sealed envelopes! This time complete strangers were involved in an experience that would really satisfy my seemingly endless search for proof after proof.