“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

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.

Here’s an instance where Rob was trying to test for clairvoyance rather than telepathy. Like many others, this test had surprising results. Rob’s notes show clearly the procedure he followed in choosing the test item:

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.

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.

“He would not be content simply to give the details on the snatch of paper. This is a fairly automatic tendency of his mental life. We use it, I hope to advantage, in our sessions in other ways. … In the tests, however, we tried to utilize this characteristic, since we could not deny it. Ruburt’s abilities are what I have to work with and through—besides, of course, my own. So we used this tendency here to enlarge the picture and bring in further details that gave you rather respectable data … and in a way that was fairly natural to Rubert.”

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.

“There are many areas of knowledge in which any given individual is uninterested. He will not bother to use [even] normal perception to obtain it. I give Ruburt access to large fields of focus. I help him change the energy that he uses in perception into other directions, to turn it inward. I make information available to him. Then, according to his basic characteristics, he uses the information.”

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).

Rob had purchased two four-by-eight-foot pieces of Masonite and a roller pan. The salesman who waited on us became quite talkative when he learned that Rob was going to use the Masonite for paintings. He told us that a European artist had done a portrait of him while he’d been a soldier in World War II. Somewhat humorously, he described how the artist had drawn his face as though it were symmetrical and without blemish, while actually it was quite asymmetrical with an impaired eye. The salesman also wore glasses.

We tried all sorts of things with the envelopes. In The New York Times test, Rob himself didn’t know what was on the test object. He didn’t always know what the test object was, in any case, and sometimes he didn’t even know that a test would be held! For example, occasionally friends would come unannounced to a session and bring their own test envelope. This was just handed to me in the middle of the session, without my knowing beforehand whether or not a test would be held. Sometimes Rob would use such an envelope at once; at other times he would save it for a future session.

“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.”

And what about the Instream tests? First of all, I kept waiting to hear what Dr. Instream thought about my two out-of-body episodes. And he simply never mentioned them. To me this was terribly disappointing. The results had checked out, whether or not they could be considered scientific. If these didn’t convince him that something was going on, I didn’t see what would!

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.

One of our favorite topics of conversation that year was when will we hear from Dr. Instream? For months on end we would hear nothing. Perhaps, we thought, he wanted to give us no reports until the experiments were finished. If so, why didn’t he just tell us? When finally the suspense was too much for me, I would write: were we getting any hits or weren’t we? Dr. Instream always assured us of his continuing interest, told us to go on with the tests, and said that he had no evidence yet strong enough to “convince the hard-nosed psychologist.” But that was all. He said nothing about the numerous names and dates, the visitors or letters mentioned in the sessions. Was the data all wrong? Partially right? We never found out. He never told us.

Knowing that Dr. Instream would be concentrating on each session put me under a strain, perhaps because of my own attitude. But now I felt that I really had to have a session each Monday and Wednesday evening, come hell or high water. And even when we were alone, which we usually were, I felt that the sessions were no longer private—that an invisible Dr. Instream was an audience. We seldom missed a session before the Instream tests. But now my idea of great defiance was to miss a session, to go out and get a beer and let the psychologist go stare at his old vase or ink spot or whatever he’d chosen for that night’s test.

I didn’t feel this way in the beginning, but I was really furious that he didn’t tell us the results of the tests; all those hours seemed to be going down the drain. One night, really angry at not hearing from him, I did go with Rob to a nearby bar—only to rush home at the last minute so as not to miss the session!

With no idea of how we were doing, I couldn’t have cared less, finally, what Dr. Instream was concentrating on. The tests just became time-consuming, cutting down on the amount of theoretical material we could receive. Once more I wrote the good doctor, suggesting that he not spare my feelings in case the data was just wrong. If so, we were wasting his time and our own. Again he wrote of his continuing interest and suggested we keep on. But he would not say we were doing well, fair, or poorly, and he gave no reports on the many specific details given.

He was obsessed with statistical proof for the existence of telepathy and clairvoyance, and hoped that we could produce it. At first it seemed tremendously exciting to me to be a part of such an endeavor. But as we continued to read everything we could get our hands on, excitement turned to bewilderment. As far as we could tell, the existence of telepathy and clairvoyance had been scientifically proven time and time again by Dr. J. B. Rhine at Duke University, and demonstrated by others such as Croisset, a psychic, working with Professor Wilem Tenhaeff at the University of Utrecht in the Netherlands. The work of Harold Sherman and other psychics certainly added circumstantial evidence at the very least. Was Instream throwing out all of these results and countless other evidence gained in parapsychology laboratories throughout the world?

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.

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.

“Now, this information is from an artist who always used sienas for initial flesh tones, with a suggestion, very lightly, of violets. These were then very cleverly built up with a transparent ocher which he had, and a particular green, muted. The top complexion tone lay on this lightly, as if a wind could blow it away.”

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.