[Transcriber's Note: Some of the plates are
displayed out of sequence to correspond with references to them
in the text.]
THOUGHT-FORMS
As knowledge increases, the attitude of science towards the
things of the invisible world is undergoing considerable
modification. Its attention is no longer directed solely to the
earth with all its variety of objects, or to the physical worlds
around it; but it finds itself compelled to glance further
afield, and to construct hypotheses as to the nature of the
matter and force which lie in the regions beyond the ken of its
instruments. Ether is now comfortably settled in the scientific
kingdom, becoming almost more than a hypothesis. Mesmerism, under
its new name of hypnotism, is no longer an outcast. Reichenbach's
experiments are still looked at askance, but are not wholly
condemned. Röntgen's rays have rearranged some of the older
ideas of matter, while radium has revolutionised them, and is
leading science beyond the borderland of ether into the astral
world. The boundaries between animate and inanimate matter are
broken down. Magnets are found to be possessed of almost uncanny
powers, transferring certain forms of disease in a way not yet
satisfactorily explained. Telepathy, clairvoyance, movement
without contact, though not yet admitted to the scientific table,
are approaching the Cinderella-stage. The fact is that science
has pressed its researches so far, has used such rare ingenuity
in its questionings of nature, has shown such tireless patience
in its investigations, that it is receiving the reward of those
who seek, and forces and beings of the next higher plane of
nature are beginning to show themselves on the outer edge of the
physical field. "Nature makes no leaps," and as the physicist
nears the confines of his kingdom he finds himself bewildered by
touches and gleams from another realm which interpenetrates his
own. He finds himself compelled to speculate on invisible
presences, if only to find a rational explanation for undoubted
physical phenomena, and insensibly he slips over the boundary,
and is, although he does not yet realise it, contacting the
astral plane.
One of the most interesting of the highroads from the physical
to the astral is that of the study of thought. The Western
scientist, commencing in the anatomy and physiology of the brain,
endeavours to make these the basis for "a sound psychology." He
passes then into the region of dreams, illusions, hallucinations;
and as soon as he endeavours to elaborate an experimental science
which shall classify and arrange these, he inevitably plunges
into the astral plane. Dr Baraduc of Paris has nearly crossed the
barrier, and is well on the way towards photographing
astro-mental images, to obtaining pictures of what from the
materialistic standpoint would be the results of vibrations in
the grey matter of the brain.
It has long been known to those who have given attention to
the question that impressions were produced by the reflection of
the ultra-violet rays from objects not visible by the rays of the
ordinary spectrum. Clairvoyants were occasionally justified by
the appearance on sensitive photographic plates of figures seen
and described by them as present with the sitter, though
invisible to physical sight. It is not possible for an unbiassed
judgment to reject in toto the evidence of such
occurrences proffered by men of integrity on the strength of
their own experiments, oftentimes repeated. And now we have
investigators who turn their attention to the obtaining of images
of subtle forms, inventing methods specially designed with the
view of reproducing them. Among these, Dr Baraduc seems to have
been the most successful, and he has published a volume dealing
with his investigations and containing reproductions of the
photographs he has obtained. Dr Baraduc states that he is
investigating the subtle forces by which the soul—defined
as the intelligence working between the body and the
spirit—expresses itself, by seeking to record its movements
by means of a needle, its "luminous" but invisible vibrations by
impressions on sensitive plates. He shuts out by non-conductors
electricity and heat. We can pass over his experiments in
Biometry (measurement of life by movements), and glance at those
in Iconography—the impressions of invisible waves, regarded
by him as of the nature of light, in which the soul draws its own
image. A number of these photographs represent etheric and
magnetic results of physical phenomena, and these again we may
pass over as not bearing on our special subject, interesting as
they are in themselves. Dr Baraduc obtained various impressions
by strongly thinking of an object, the effect produced by the
thought-form appearing on a sensitive plate; thus he tried to
project a portrait of a lady (then dead) whom he had known, and
produced an impression due to his thought of a drawing he had
made of her on her deathbed. He quite rightly says that the
creation of an object is the passing out of an image from the
mind and its subsequent materialisation, and he seeks the
chemical effect caused on silver salts by this thought-created
picture. One striking illustration is that of a force raying
outwards, the projection of an earnest prayer. Another prayer is
seen producing forms like the fronds of a fern, another like rain
pouring upwards, if the phrase may be permitted. A rippled oblong
mass is projected by three persons thinking of their unity in
affection. A young boy sorrowing over and caressing a dead bird
is surrounded by a flood of curved interwoven threads of
emotional disturbance. A strong vortex is formed by a feeling of
deep sadness. Looking at this most interesting and suggestive
series, it is clear that in these pictures that which is obtained
is not the thought-image, but the effect caused in etheric matter
by its vibrations, and it is necessary to clairvoyantly see the
thought in order to understand the results produced. In fact, the
illustrations are instructive for what they do not show directly,
as well as for the images that appear.
It may be useful to put before students, a little more plainly
than has hitherto been done, some of the facts in nature which
will render more intelligible the results at which Dr Baraduc is
arriving. Necessarily imperfect these must be, a physical
photographic camera and sensitive plates not being ideal
instruments for astral research; but, as will be seen from the
above, they are most interesting and valuable as forming a link
between clairvoyant and physical scientific investigations.
At the present time observers outside the Theosophical Society
are concerning themselves with the fact that emotional changes
show their nature by changes of colour in the cloud-like ovoid,
or aura, that encompasses all living beings. Articles on the
subject are appearing in papers unconnected with the Theosophical
Society, and a medical specialist[1] has collected a large number of cases in which
the colour of the aura of persons of various types and
temperaments is recorded by him. His results resemble closely
those arrived at by clairvoyant theosophists and others, and the
general unanimity on the subject is sufficient to establish the
fact, if the evidence be judged by the usual canons applied to
human testimony.
The book Man Visible and Invisible dealt with the
general subject of the aura. The present little volume, written
by the author of Man Visible and Invisible, and a
theosophical colleague, is intended to carry the subject further;
and it is believed that this study is useful, as impressing
vividly on the mind of the student the power and living nature of
thought and desire, and the influence exerted by them on all whom
they reach.
THE DIFFICULTY OF
REPRESENTATION
We have often heard it said that thoughts are things, and
there are many among us who are persuaded of the truth of this
statement. Yet very few of us have any clear idea as to what kind
of thing a thought is, and the object of this little book is to
help us to conceive this.
There are some serious difficulties in our way, for our
conception of space is limited to three dimensions, and when we
attempt to make a drawing we practically limit ourselves to two.
In reality the presentation even of ordinary three-dimensional
objects is seriously defective, for scarcely a line or angle in
our drawing is accurately shown. If a road crosses the picture,
the part in the foreground must be represented as enormously
wider than that in the background, although in reality the width
is unchanged. If a house is to be drawn, the right angles at its
corners must be shown as acute or obtuse as the case may be, but
hardly ever as they actually are. In fact, we draw everything not
as it is but as it appears, and the effort of the artist is by a
skilful arrangement of lines upon a flat surface to convey to the
eye an impression which shall recall that made by a
three-dimensional object.
It is possible to do this only because similar objects are
already familiar to those who look at the picture and accept the
suggestion which it conveys. A person who had never seen a tree
could form but little idea of one from even the most skilful
painting. If to this difficulty we add the other and far more
serious one of a limitation of consciousness, and suppose
ourselves to be showing the picture to a being who knew only two
dimensions, we see how utterly impossible it would be to convey
to him any adequate impression of such a landscape as we see.
Precisely this difficulty in its most aggravated form stands in
our way, when we try to make a drawing of even a very simple
thought-form. The vast majority of those who look at the picture
are absolutely limited to the consciousness of three dimensions,
and furthermore, have not the slightest conception of that inner
world to which thought-forms belong, with all its splendid light
and colour. All that we can do at the best is to represent a
section of the thought-form; and those whose faculties enable
them to see the original cannot but be disappointed with any
reproduction of it. Still, those who are at present unable to see
anything will gain at least a partial comprehension, and however
inadequate it may be it is at least better than nothing.
All students know that what is called the aura of man is the
outer part of the cloud-like substance of his higher bodies,
interpenetrating each other, and extending beyond the confines of
his physical body, the smallest of all. They know also that two
of these bodies, the mental and desire bodies, are those chiefly
concerned with the appearance of what are called thought-forms.
But in order that the matter may be made clear for all, and not
only for students already acquainted with theosophical teachings,
a recapitulation of the main facts will not be out of place.
Man, the Thinker, is clothed in a body composed of innumerable
combinations of the subtle matter of the mental plane, this body
being more or less refined in its constituents and organised more
or less fully for its functions, according to the stage of
intellectual development at which the man himself has arrived.
The mental body is an object of great beauty, the delicacy and
rapid motion of its particles giving it an aspect of living
iridescent light, and this beauty becomes an extraordinarily
radiant and entrancing loveliness as the intellect becomes more
highly evolved and is employed chiefly on pure and sublime
topics. Every thought gives rise to a set of correlated
vibrations in the matter of this body, accompanied with a
marvellous play of colour, like that in the spray of a waterfall
as the sunlight strikes it, raised to the nth degree of
colour and vivid delicacy. The body under this impulse throws off
a vibrating portion of itself, shaped by the nature of the
vibrations—as figures are made by sand on a disk vibrating
to a musical note—and this gathers from the surrounding
atmosphere matter like itself in fineness from the elemental
essence of the mental world. We have then a thought-form pure and
simple, and it is a living entity of intense activity animated by
the one idea that generated it. If made of the finer kinds of
matter, it will be of great power and energy, and may be used as
a most potent agent when directed by a strong and steady will.
Into the details of such use we will enter later.
When the man's energy flows outwards towards external objects
of desire, or is occupied in passional and emotional activities,
this energy works in a less subtle order of matter than the
mental, in that of the astral world. What is called his
desire-body is composed of this matter, and it forms the most
prominent part of the aura in the undeveloped man. Where the man
is of a gross type, the desire-body is of the denser matter of
the astral plane, and is dull in hue, browns and dirty greens and
reds playing a great part in it. Through this will flash various
characteristic colours, as his passions are excited. A man of a
higher type has his desire-body composed of the finer qualities
of astral matter, with the colours, rippling over and flashing
through it, fine and clear in hue. While less delicate and less
radiant than the mental body, it forms a beautiful object, and as
selfishness is eliminated all the duller and heavier shades
disappear.
This desire (or astral) body gives rise to a second class of
entities, similar in their general constitution to the
thought-forms already described, but limited to the astral plane,
and generated by the mind under the dominion of the animal
nature.
These are caused by the activity of the lower mind, throwing
itself out through the astral body—the activity of
Kâma-Manas in theosophical terminology, or the mind
dominated by desire. Vibrations in the body of desire, or astral
body, are in this case set up, and under these this body throws
off a vibrating portion of itself, shaped, as in the previous
case, by the nature of the vibrations, and this attracts to
itself some of the appropriate elemental essence of the astral
world. Such a thought-form has for its body this elemental
essence, and for its animating soul the desire or passion which
threw it forth; according to the amount of mental energy combined
with this desire or passion will be the force of the
thought-form. These, like those belonging to the mental plane,
are called artificial elementals, and they are by far the most
common, as few thoughts of ordinary men and women are untinged
with desire, passion, or emotion.
THE TWO EFFECTS OF THOUGHT
Each definite thought produces a double effect—a
radiating vibration and a floating form. The thought itself
appears first to clairvoyant sight as a vibration in the mental
body, and this may be either simple or complex. If the thought
itself is absolutely simple, there is only the one rate of
vibration, and only one type of mental matter will be strongly
affected. The mental body is composed of matter of several
degrees of density, which we commonly arrange in classes
according to the sub-planes. Of each of these we have many
sub-divisions, and if we typify these by drawing horizontal lines
to indicate the different degrees of density, there is another
arrangement which we might symbolise by drawing perpendicular
lines at right angles to the others, to denote types which differ
in quality as well as in density. There are thus many varieties
of this mental matter, and it is found that each one of these has
its own especial and appropriate rate of vibration, to which it
seems most accustomed, so that it very readily responds to it,
and tends to return to it as soon as possible when it has been
forced away from it by some strong rush of thought or feeling.
When a sudden wave of some emotion sweeps over a man, for
example, his astral body is thrown into violent agitation, and
its original colours are or the time almost obscured by the flush
of carmine, of blue, or of scarlet which corresponds with the
rate of vibration of that particular emotion. This change is only
temporary; it passes off in a few seconds, and the astral body
rapidly resumes its usual condition. Yet every such rush of
feeling produces a permanent effect: it always adds a little of
its hue to the normal colouring of the astral body, so that every
time that the man yields himself to a certain emotion it becomes
easier for him to yield himself to it again, because his astral
body is getting into the habit of vibrating at that especial
rate.
The majority of human thoughts, however, are by no means
simple. Absolutely pure affection of course exists; but we very
often find it tinged with pride or with selfishness, with
jealousy or with animal passion. This means that at least two
separate vibrations appear both in the mental and astral
bodies—frequently more than two. The radiating vibration,
therefore, will be a complex one, and the resultant thought-form
will show several colours instead of only one.
HOW THE VIBRATION ACTS
These radiating vibrations, like all others in nature, become
less powerful in proportion to the distance from their source,
though it is probable that the variation is in proportion to the
cube of the distance instead of to the square, because of the
additional dimension involved. Again, like all other vibrations,
these tend to reproduce themselves whenever opportunity is
offered to them; and so whenever they strike upon another mental
body they tend to provoke in it their own rate of motion. That
is—from the point of view of the man whose mental body is
touched by these waves—they tend to produce in his mind
thoughts of the same type as that which had previously arisen in
the mind of the thinker who sent forth the waves. The distance to
which such thought-waves penetrate, and the force and persistency
with which they impinge upon the mental bodies of others, depend
upon the strength and clearness of the original thought. In this
way the thinker is in the same position as the speaker. The voice
of the latter sets in motion waves of sound in the air which
radiate from him in all directions, and convey his message to all
those who are within hearing, and the distance to which his voice
can penetrate depends upon its power and upon the clearness of
his enunciation. In just the same way the forceful thought will
carry very much further than the weak and undecided thought; but
clearness and definiteness are of even greater importance than
strength. Again, just as the speaker's voice may fall upon
heedless ears where men are already engaged in business or in
pleasure, so may a mighty wave of thought sweep past without
affecting the mind of the man, if he be already deeply engrossed
in some other line of thought.
It should be understood that this radiating vibration conveys
the character of the thought, but not its subject. If a Hindu
sits rapt in devotion to Kṛiṣhṇa, the waves of
feeling which pour forth from him stimulate devotional feeling in
all those who come under their influence, though in the case of
the Muhammadan that devotion is to Allah, while for the
Zoroastrian it is to Ahuramazda, or for the Christian to Jesus. A
man thinking keenly upon some high subject pours out from himself
vibrations which tend to stir up thought at a similar level in
others, but they in no way suggest to those others the special
subject of his thought. They naturally act with special vigour
upon those minds already habituated to vibrations of similar
character; yet they have some effect on every mental body upon
which they impinge, so that their tendency is to awaken the power
of higher thought in those to whom it has not yet become a
custom. It is thus evident that every man who thinks along high
lines is doing missionary work, even though he may be entirely
unconscious of it.
THE FORM AND ITS EFFECT
Let us turn now to the second effect of thought, the creation
of a definite form. All students of the occult are acquainted
with the idea of the elemental essence, that strange
half-intelligent life which surrounds us in all directions,
vivifying the matter of the mental and astral planes. This matter
thus animated responds very readily to the influence of human
thought, and every impulse sent out, either from the mental body
or from the astral body of man, immediately clothes itself in a
temporary vehicle of this vitalised matter. Such a thought or
impulse becomes for the time a kind of living creature, the
thought-force being the soul, and the vivified matter the body.
Instead of using the somewhat clumsy paraphrase, "astral or
mental matter ensouled by the monadic essence at the stage of one
of the elemental kingdoms," theosophical writers often, for
brevity's sake, call this quickened matter simply elemental
essence; and sometimes they speak of the thought-form as "an
elemental." There may be infinite variety in the colour and shape
of such elementals or thought-forms, for each thought draws round
it the matter which is appropriate for its expression, and sets
that matter into vibration in harmony with its own; so that the
character of the thought decides its colour, and the study of its
variations and combinations is an exceedingly interesting
one.
This thought-form may not inaptly be compared to a Leyden jar,
the coating of living essence being symbolised by the jar, and
the thought energy by the charge of electricity. If the man's
thought or feeling is directly connected with someone else, the
resultant thought-form moves towards that person and discharges
itself upon his astral and mental bodies. If the man's thought is
about himself, or is based upon a personal feeling, as the vast
majority of thoughts are, it hovers round its creator and is
always ready to react upon him whenever he is for a moment in a
passive condition. For example, a man who yields himself to
thoughts of impurity may forget all about them while he is
engaged in the daily routine of his business, even though the
resultant forms are hanging round him in a heavy cloud, because
his attention is otherwise directed and his astral body is
therefore not impressible by any other rate of vibration than its
own. When, however, the marked vibration slackens and the man
rests after his labours and leaves his mind blank as regards
definite thought, he is very likely to feel the vibration of
impurity stealing insidiously upon him. If the consciousness of
the man be to any extent awakened, he may perceive this and cry
out that he is being tempted by the devil; yet the truth is that
the temptation is from without only in appearance, since it is
nothing but the natural reaction upon him of his own
thought-forms. Each man travels through space enclosed within a
cage of his own building, surrounded by a mass of the forms
created by his habitual thoughts. Through this medium he looks
out upon the world, and naturally he sees everything tinged with
its predominant colours, and all rates of vibration which reach
him from without are more or less modified by its rate. Thus
until the man learns complete control of thought and feeling, he
sees nothing as it really is, since all his observations must be
made through this medium, which distorts and colours everything
like badly-made glass.
If the thought-form be neither definitely personal nor
specially aimed at someone else, it simply floats detached in the
atmosphere, all the time radiating vibrations similar to those
originally sent forth by its creator. If it does not come into
contact with any other mental body, this radiation gradually
exhausts its store of energy, and in that case the form falls to
pieces; but if it succeeds in awakening sympathetic vibration in
any mental body near at hand, an attraction is set up, and the
thought-form is usually absorbed by that mental body. Thus we see
that the influence of the thought-form is by no means so
far-reaching as that of the original vibration; but in so far as
it acts, it acts with much greater precision. What it produces in
the mind-body which it influences is not merely a thought of an
order similar to that which gave it birth; it is actually the
same thought. The radiation may affect thousands and stir up in
them thoughts on the same level as the original, and yet it may
happen that no one of them will be identical with that original;
the thought-form can affect only very few, but in those few cases
it will reproduce exactly the initiatory idea.
The fact of the creation by vibrations of a distinct form,
geometrical or other, is already familiar to every student of
acoustics, and "Chladni's" figures are continually reproduced in
every physical laboratory.
FIG. 1. CHLADNI'S SOUND PLATE
FIG. 2. FORMS PRODUCED IN
SOUND
For the lay reader the following brief description may be
useful. A Chladni's sound plate (fig. 1) is made of brass or
plate-glass. Grains of fine sand or spores are scattered over the
surface, and the edge of the plate is bowed. The sand is thrown
up into the air by the vibration of the plate, and re-falling on
the plate is arranged in regular lines (fig. 2). By touching the
edge of the plate at different points when it is bowed, different
notes, and hence varying forms, are obtained (fig. 3). If the
figures here given are compared with those obtained from the
human voice, many likenesses will be observed. For these latter,
the 'voice-forms' so admirably studied and pictured by Mrs Watts
Hughes,[1] bearing witness to the
same fact, should be consulted, and her work on the subject
should be in the hands of every student. But few perhaps have
realised that the shapes pictured are due to the interplay of the
vibrations that create them, and that a machine exists by means
of which two or more simultaneous motions can be imparted to a
pendulum, and that by attaching a fine drawing-pen to a lever
connected with the pendulum its action may be exactly traced.
Substitute for the swing of the pendulum the vibrations set up in
the mental or astral body, and we have clearly before us the
modus operandi of the building of forms by
vibrations.[2]
FIG. 3. FORMS PRODUCED IN
SOUND
The following description is taken from a most interesting
essay entitled Vibration Figures, by F. Bligh Bond,
F.R.I.B.A., who has drawn a number of remarkable figures by the
use of pendulums. The pendulum is suspended on knife edges of
hardened steel, and is free to swing only at right angles to the
knife-edge suspension. Four such pendulums may be coupled in
pairs, swinging at right angles to each other, by threads
connecting the shafts of each pair of pendulums with the ends of
a light but rigid lath, from the centre of which run other
threads; these threads carry the united movements of each pair of
pendulums to a light square of wood, suspended by a spring, and
bearing a pen. The pen is thus controlled by the combined
movement of the four pendulums, and this movement is registered
on a drawing board by the pen. There is no limit, theoretically,
to the number of pendulums that can be combined in this manner.
The movements are rectilinear, but two rectilinear vibrations of
equal amplitude acting at right angles to each other generate a
circle if they alternate precisely, an ellipse if the
alternations are less regular or the amplitudes unequal. A cyclic
vibration may also be obtained from a pendulum free to swing in a
rotary path. In these ways a most wonderful series of drawings
have been obtained, and the similarity of these to some of the
thought-forms is remarkable; they suffice to demonstrate how
readily vibrations may be transformed into figures. Thus compare
fig. 4 with fig. 12, the mother's prayer; or fig. 5 with fig. 10;
or fig. 6 with fig. 25, the serpent-like darting forms. Fig. 7 is
added as an illustration of the complexity attainable. It seems
to us a most marvellous thing that some of the drawings, made
apparently at random by the use of this machine, should exactly
correspond to higher types of thought-forms created in
meditation. We are sure that a wealth of significance lies behind
this fact, though it will need much further investigation before
we can say certainly all that it means. But it must surely imply
this much—that, if two forces on the physical plane bearing
a certain ratio one to the other can draw a form which exactly
corresponds to that produced on the mental plane by a complex
thought, we may infer that that thought sets in motion on its own
plane two forces which are in the same ratio one to the other.
What these forces are and how they work remains to be seen; but
if we are ever able to solve this problem, it is likely that it
will open to us a new and exceedingly valuable field of
knowledge.
FIGS. 4-7. FORMS PRODUCED BY
PENDULUMS
General Principles.
Three general principles underlie the production of all
thought-forms:—
- Quality of thought determines colour.
- Nature of thought determines form.
- Definiteness of thought determines clearness of outline.
THE MEANING OF THE COLOURS
The table of colours given in the frontispiece has already
been thoroughly described in the book Man Visible and
Invisible, and the meaning to be attached to them is just the
same in the thought-form as in the body out of which it is
evolved. For the sake of those who have not at hand the full
description given in the book just mentioned, it will be well to
state that black means hatred and malice. Red, of all shades from
lurid brick-red to brilliant scarlet, indicates anger; brutal
anger will show as flashes of lurid red from dark brown clouds,
while the anger of "noble indignation" is a vivid scarlet, by no
means unbeautiful, though it gives an unpleasant thrill; a
particularly dark and unpleasant red, almost exactly the colour
called dragon's blood, shows animal passion and sensual desire of
various kinds. Clear brown (almost burnt sienna) shows avarice;
hard dull brown-grey is a sign of selfishness—a colour
which is indeed painfully common; deep heavy grey signifies
depression, while a livid pale grey is associated with fear;
grey-green is a signal of deceit, while brownish-green (usually
flecked with points and flashes of scarlet) betokens jealousy.
Green seems always to denote adaptability; in the lowest case,
when mingled with selfishness, this adaptability becomes deceit;
at a later stage, when the colour becomes purer, it means rather
the wish to be all things to all men, even though it may be
chiefly for the sake of becoming popular and bearing a good
reputation with them; in its still higher, more delicate and more
luminous aspect, it shows the divine power of sympathy. Affection
expresses itself in all shades of crimson and rose; a full clear
carmine means a strong healthy affection of normal type; if
stained heavily with brown-grey, a selfish and grasping feeling
is indicated, while pure pale rose marks that absolutely
unselfish love which is possible only to high natures; it passes
from the dull crimson of animal love to the most exquisite shades
of delicate rose, like the early flushes of the dawning, as the
love becomes purified from all selfish elements, and flows out in
wider and wider circles of generous impersonal tenderness and
compassion to all who are in need. With a touch of the blue of
devotion in it, this may express a strong realisation of the
universal brotherhood of humanity. Deep orange imports pride or
ambition, and the various shades of yellow denote intellect or
intellectual gratification, dull yellow ochre implying the
direction of such faculty to selfish purposes, while clear
gamboge shows a distinctly higher type, and pale luminous
primrose yellow is a sign of the highest and most unselfish use
of intellectual power, the pure reason directed to spiritual
ends. The different shades of blue all indicate religious
feeling, and range through all hues from the dark brown-blue of
selfish devotion, or the pallid grey-blue of fetish-worship
tinged with fear, up to the rich deep clear colour of heartfelt
adoration, and the beautiful pale azure of that highest form
which implies self-renunciation and union with the divine; the
devotional thought of an unselfish heart is very lovely in
colour, like the deep blue of a summer sky. Through such clouds
of blue will often shine out golden stars of great brilliancy,
darting upwards like a shower of sparks. A mixture of affection
and devotion is manifested by a tint of violet, and the more
delicate shades of this invariably show the capacity of absorbing
and responding to a high and beautiful ideal. The brilliancy and
the depth of the colours are usually a measure of the strength
and the activity of the feeling.
Another consideration which must not be forgotten is the type
of matter in which these forms are generated. If a thought be
purely intellectual and impersonal—for example, if the
thinker is attempting to solve a problem in algebra or
geometry—the thought-form and the wave of vibration will be
confined entirely to the mental plane. If, however, the thought
be of a spiritual nature, if it be tinged with love and
aspiration or deep unselfish feeling, it will rise upwards from
the mental plane and will borrow much of the splendour and glory
of the buddhic level. In such a case its influence is exceedingly
powerful, and every such thought is a mighty force for good which
cannot but produce a decided effect upon all mental bodies within
reach, if they contain any quality at all capable of
response.
If, on the other hand, the thought has in it something of self
or of personal desire, at once its vibration turns downwards, and
it draws round itself a body of astral matter in addition to its
clothing of mental matter. Such a thought-form is capable of
acting upon the astral bodies of other men as well as their
minds, so that it can not only raise thought within them, but can
also stir up their feelings.
THREE CLASSES OF
THOUGHT-FORMS
From the point of view of the forms which they produce we may
group thought into three classes:—
1. That which takes the image of the thinker. When a man
thinks of himself as in some distant place, or wishes earnestly
to be in that place, he makes a thought-form in his own image
which appears there. Such a form has not infrequently been seen
by others, and has sometimes been taken for the astral body or
apparition of the man himself. In such a case, either the seer
must have enough of clairvoyance for the time to be able to
observe that astral shape, or the thought-form must have
sufficient strength to materialise itself—that is, to draw
round itself temporarily a certain amount of physical matter. The
thought which generates such a form as this must necessarily be a
strong one, and it therefore employs a larger proportion of the
matter of the mental body, so that though the form is small and
compressed when it leaves the thinker, it draws round it a
considerable amount of astral matter, and usually expands to
life-size before it appears at its destination.
2. That which takes the image of some material object. When a
man thinks of his friend he forms within his mental body a minute
image of that friend, which often passes outward and usually
floats suspended in the air before him. In the same way if he
thinks of a room, a house, a landscape, tiny images of these
things are formed within the mental body and afterwards
externalised. This is equally true when he is exercising his
imagination; the painter who forms a conception of his future
picture builds it up out of the matter of his mental body, and
then projects it into space in front of him, keeps it before his
mind's eye, and copies it. The novelist in the same way builds
images of his character in mental matter, and by the exercise of
his will moves these puppets from one position or grouping to
another, so that the plot of his story is literally acted out
before him. With our curiously inverted conceptions of reality it
is hard for us to understand that these mental images actually
exist, and are so entirely objective that they may readily be
seen by the clairvoyant, and can even be rearranged by some one
other than their creator. Some novelists have been dimly aware of
such a process, and have testified that their characters when
once created developed a will of their own, and insisted on
carrying the plot of the story along lines quite different from
those originally intended by the author. This has actually
happened, sometimes because the thought-forms were ensouled by
playful nature-spirits, or more often because some 'dead'
novelist, watching on the astral plane the development of the
plan of his fellow-author, thought that he could improve upon it,
and chose this method of putting forward his suggestions.
3. That which takes a form entirely its own, expressing its
inherent qualities in the matter which it draws round it. Only
thought-forms of this third class can usefully be illustrated,
for to represent those of the first or second class would be
merely to draw portraits or landscapes. In those types we have
the plastic mental or astral matter moulded in imitation of forms
belonging to the physical plane; in this third group we have a
glimpse of the forms natural to the astral or mental planes. Yet
this very fact, which makes them so interesting, places an
insuperable barrier in the way of their accurate
reproduction.
Thought-forms of this third class almost invariably manifest
themselves upon the astral plane, as the vast majority of them
are expressions of feeling as well as of thought. Those of which
we here give specimens are almost wholly of that class, except
that we take a few examples of the beautiful thought-forms
created in definite meditation by those who, through long
practice, have learnt how to think.
Thought-forms directed towards individuals produce definitely
marked effects, these effects being either partially reproduced
in the aura of the recipient and so increasing the total result,
or repelled from it. A thought of love and of desire to protect,
directed strongly towards some beloved object, creates a form
which goes to the person thought of, and remains in his aura as a
shielding and protecting agent; it will seek all opportunities to
serve, and all opportunities to defend, not by a conscious and
deliberate action, but by a blind following out of the impulse
impressed upon it, and it will strengthen friendly forces that
impinge on the aura and weaken unfriendly ones. Thus may we
create and maintain veritable guardian angels round those we
love, and many a mother's prayer for a distant child thus circles
round him, though she knows not the method by which her "prayer
is answered."
In cases in which good or evil thoughts are projected at
individuals, those thoughts, if they are to directly fulfil their
mission, must find, in the aura of the object to whom they are
sent, materials capable of responding sympathetically to their
vibrations. Any combination of matter can only vibrate within
certain definite limits, and if the thought-form be outside all
the limits within which the aura is capable of vibrating, it
cannot affect that aura at all. It consequently rebounds from it,
and that with a force proportionate to the energy with which it
impinged upon it. This is why it is said that a pure heart and
mind are the best protectors against any inimical assaults, for
such a pure heart and mind will construct an astral and a mental
body of fine and subtle materials, and these bodies cannot
respond to vibrations that demand coarse and dense matter. If an
evil thought, projected with malefic intent, strikes such a body,
it can only rebound from it, and it is flung back with all its
own energy; it then flies backward along the magnetic line of
least resistance, that which it has just traversed, and strikes
its projector; he, having matter in his astral and mental bodies
similar to that of the thought-form he generated, is thrown into
respondent vibrations, and suffers the destructive effects he had
intended to cause to another. Thus "curses [and blessings] come
home to roost." From this arise also the very serious effects of
hating or suspecting a good and highly-advanced man; the
thought-forms sent against him cannot injure him, and they
rebound against their projectors, shattering them mentally,
morally, or physically. Several such instances are well known to
members of the Theosophical Society, having come under their
direct observation. So long as any of the coarser kinds of matter
connected with evil and selfish thoughts remain in a person's
body, he is open to attack from those who wish him evil, but when
he has perfectly eliminated these by self-purification his haters
cannot injure him, and he goes on calmly and peacefully amid all
the darts of their malice. But it is bad for those who shoot out
such darts.
Another point that should be mentioned before passing to the
consideration of our illustrations is that every one of the
thought-forms here given is drawn from life. They are not
imaginary forms, prepared as some dreamer thinks that they ought
to appear; they are representations of forms actually observed as
thrown off by ordinary men and women, and either reproduced with
all possible care and fidelity by those who have seen them, or
with the help of artists to whom the seers have described
them.
For convenience of comparison thought-forms of a similar kind
are grouped together.
ILLUSTRATIVE THOUGHT-FORMS
AFFECTION
Vague Pure Affection.—Fig. 8 is a revolving cloud
of pure affection, and except for its vagueness it represents a
very good feeling. The person from whom it emanates is happy and
at peace with the world, thinking dreamily of some friend whose
very presence is a pleasure. There is nothing keen or strong
about the feeling, yet it is one of gentle well-being, and of an
unselfish delight in the proximity of those who are beloved. The
feeling which gives birth to such a cloud is pure of its kind,
but there is in it no force capable of producing definite
results. An appearance by no means unlike this frequently
surrounds a gently purring cat, and radiates slowly outward from
the animal in a series of gradually enlarging concentric shells
of rosy cloud, fading into invisibility at a distance of a few
feet from their drowsily contented creator.
FIG. 8. VAGUE PURE AFFECTION
Vague Selfish Affection.—Fig. 9 shows us also a
cloud of affection, but this time it is deeply tinged with a far
less desirable feeling. The dull hard brown-grey of selfishness
shows itself very decidedly among the carmine of love, and thus
we see that the affection which is indicated is closely connected
with satisfaction at favours already received, and with a lively
anticipation of others to come in the near future. Indefinite as
was the feeling which produced the cloud in Fig. 8, it was at
least free from this taint of selfishness, and it therefore
showed a certain nobility of nature in its author. Fig. 9
represents what takes the place of that condition of mind at a
lower level of evolution. It would scarcely be possible that
these two clouds should emanate from the same person in the same
incarnation. Yet there is good in the man who generates this
second cloud, though as yet it is but partially evolved. A vast
amount of the average affection of the world is of this type, and
it is only by slow degrees that it develops towards the other and
higher manifestation.
FIG. 9. VAGUE SELFISH
AFFECTION
Definite Affection.—Even the first glance at Fig.
10 shows us that here we have to deal with something of an
entirely different nature—something effective and capable,
something that will achieve a result. The colour is fully equal
to that of Fig. 8 in clearness and depth and transparency, but
what was there a mere sentiment is in this case translated into
emphatic intention coupled with unhesitating action. Those who
have seen the book Man Visible and Invisible will
recollect that in Plate XI. of that volume is depicted the effect
of a sudden rush of pure unselfish affection as it showed itself
in the astral body of a mother, as she caught up her little child
and covered it with kisses. Various changes resulted from that
sudden outburst of emotion; one of them was the formation within
the astral body of large crimson coils or vortices lined with
living light. Each of these is a thought-form of intense
affection generated as we have described, and almost
instantaneously ejected towards the object of the feeling. Fig.
10 depicts just such a thought-form after it has left the astral
body of its author, and is on its way towards its goal. It will
be observed that the almost circular form has changed into one
somewhat resembling a projectile or the head of a comet; and it
will be easily understood that this alteration is caused by its
rapid forward motion. The clearness of the colour assures us of
the purity of the emotion which gave birth to this thought-form,
while the precision of its outline is unmistakable evidence of
power and of vigorous purpose. The soul that gave birth to a
thought-form such as this must already be one of a certain amount
of development.
FIG. 10. DEFINITE AFFECTION
Radiating Affection.—Fig. 11 gives us our first
example of a thought-form intentionally generated, since its
author is making the effort to pour himself forth in love to all
beings. It must be remembered that all these forms are in
constant motion. This one, for example, is steadily widening out,
though there seems to be an exhaustless fountain welling up
through the centre from a dimension which we cannot represent. A
sentiment such as this is so wide in its application, that it is
very difficult for any one not thoroughly trained to keep it
clear and precise. The thought-form here shown is, therefore, a
very creditable one, for it will be noted that all the numerous
rays of the star are commendably free from vagueness.
FIG. 11. RADIATING AFFECTION
Peace and Protection.—Few thought-forms are more
beautiful and expressive than this which we see in Fig. 12. This
is a thought of love and peace, protection and benediction, sent
forth by one who has the power and has earned the right to bless.
It is not at all probable that in the mind of its creator there
existed any thought of its beautiful wing-like shape, though it
is possible that some unconscious reflection of far-away lessons
of childhood about guardian angels who always hovered over their
charges may have had its influence in determining this. However
that may be, the earnest wish undoubtedly clothed itself in this
graceful and expressive outline, while the affection that
prompted it gave to it its lovely rose-colour, and the intellect
which guided it shone forth like sunlight as its heart and
central support. Thus in sober truth we may make veritable
guardian angels to hover over and protect those whom we love, and
many an unselfish earnest wish for good produces such a form as
this, though all unknown to its creator.
FIG. 12. PEACE AND PROTECTION
Grasping Animal Affection.—Fig. 13 gives us an
instance of grasping animal affection—if indeed such a
feeling as this be deemed worthy of the august name of affection
at all. Several colours bear their share in the production of its
dull unpleasing hue, tinged as it is with the lurid gleam of
sensuality, as well as deadened with the heavy tint indicative of
selfishness. Especially characteristic is its form, for those
curving hooks are never seen except when there exists a strong
craving for personal possession. It is regrettably evident that
the fabricator of this thought-form had no conception of the
self-sacrificing love which pours itself out in joyous service,
never once thinking of result or return; his thought has been,
not "How much can I give?" but "How much can I gain?" and so it
has expressed itself in these re-entering curves. It has not even
ventured to throw itself boldly outward, as do other thoughts,
but projects half-heartedly from the astral body, which must be
supposed to be on the left of the picture. A sad travesty of the
divine quality love; yet even this is a stage in evolution, and
distinctly an improvement upon earlier stages, as will presently
be seen.
FIG. 13. GRASPING ANIMAL
AFFECTION
DEVOTION
Vague Religious Feeling.—Fig. 14 shows us another
shapeless rolling cloud, but this time it is blue instead of
crimson. It betokens that vaguely pleasurable religious
feeling—a sensation of devoutness rather than of
devotion—which is so common among those in whom piety is
more developed than intellect. In many a church one may see a
great cloud of deep dull blue floating over the heads of the
congregation—indefinite in outline, because of the
indistinct nature of the thoughts and feelings which cause it;
flecked too often with brown and grey, because ignorant devotion
absorbs with deplorable facility the dismal tincture of
selfishness or fear; but none the less adumbrating a mighty
potentiality of the future, manifesting to our eyes the first
faint flutter of one at least of the twin wings of devotion and
wisdom, by the use of which the soul flies upward to God from
whom it came.
FIG. 14. VAGUE RELIGIOUS
FEELING
Strange is it to note under what varied circumstances this
vague blue cloud may be seen; and oftentimes its absence speaks
more loudly than its presence. For in many a fashionable place of
worship we seek it in vain, and find instead of it a vast
conglomeration of thought-forms of that second type which take
the shape of material objects. Instead of tokens of devotion, we
see floating above the "worshippers" the astral images of hats
and bonnets, of jewellery and gorgeous dresses, of horses and of
carriages, of whisky-bottles and of Sunday dinners, and sometimes
of whole rows of intricate calculations, showing that men and
women alike have had during their supposed hours of prayer and
praise no thoughts but of business or of pleasure, of the desires
or the anxieties of the lower form of mundane existence.
Yet sometimes in a humbler fane, in a church belonging to the
unfashionable Catholic or Ritualist, or even in a lowly
meeting-house where there is but little of learning or of
culture, one may watch the deep blue clouds rolling ceaselessly
eastward towards the altar, or upwards, testifying at least to
the earnestness and the reverence of those who give them birth.
Rarely—very rarely—among the clouds of blue will
flash like a lance cast by the hand of a giant such a
thought-form as is shown in Fig. 15; or such a flower of
self-renunciation as we see in Fig. 16 may float before our
ravished eyes; but in most cases we must seek elsewhere for these
signs of a higher development.
Upward Rush of Devotion.—The form in Fig. 15
bears much the same relation to that of Fig. 14 as did the
clearly outlined projectile of Fig. 10 to the indeterminate cloud
of Fig. 8. We could hardly have a more marked contrast than that
between the inchoate flaccidity of the nebulosity in Fig. 14 and
the virile vigour of the splendid spire of highly developed
devotion which leaps into being before us in Fig. 15. This is no
uncertain half-formed sentiment; it is the outrush into
manifestation of a grand emotion rooted deep in the knowledge of
fact. The man who feels such devotion as this is one who knows in
whom he has believed; the man who makes such a thought-form as
this is one who has taught himself how to think. The
determination of the upward rush points to courage as well as
conviction, while the sharpness of its outline shows the clarity
of its creator's conception, and the peerless purity of its
colour bears witness to his utter unselfishness.
FIG. 15. UPWARD RUSH OF
DEVOTION
The Response to Devotion.—In Fig. 17 we see the
result of his thought—the response of the Logos to the appeal made to Him, the truth which
underlies the highest and best part of the persistent belief in
an answer to prayer. It needs a few words of explanation. On
every plane of His solar system our Logos pours forth His light, His power, His life,
and naturally it is on the higher planes that this outpouring of
divine strength can be given most fully. The descent from each
plane to that next below it means an almost paralysing
limitation—a limitation entirely incomprehensible except to
those who have experienced the higher possibilities of human
consciousness. Thus the divine life flows forth with incomparably
greater fulness on the mental plane than on the astral; and yet
even its glory at the mental level is ineffably transcended by
that of the buddhic plane. Normally each of these mighty waves of
influence spreads about its appropriate plane—horizontally,
as it were—but it does not pass into the obscuration of a
plane lower than that for which it was originally intended.
FIG. 17. RESPONSE TO DEVOTION
Yet there are conditions under which the grace and strength
peculiar to a higher plane may in a measure be brought down to a
lower one, and may spread abroad there with wonderful effect.
This seems to be possible only when a special channel is for the
moment opened; and that work must be done from below and by the
effort of man. It has before been explained that whenever a man's
thought or feeling is selfish, the energy which it produces moves
in a close curve, and thus inevitably returns and expends itself
upon its own level; but when the thought or feeling is absolutely
unselfish, its energy rushes forth in an open curve, and thus
does not return in the ordinary sense, but pierces through
into the plane above, because only in that higher condition, with
its additional dimension, can it find room for its expansion. But
in thus breaking through, such a thought or feeling holds open a
door (to speak symbolically) of dimension equivalent to its own
diameter, and thus furnishes the requisite channel through which
the divine force appropriate to the higher plane can pour itself
into the lower with marvellous results, not only for the thinker
but for others. An attempt is made in Fig. 17 to symbolise this,
and to indicate the great truth that an infinite flood of the
higher type of force is always ready and waiting to pour through
when the channel is offered, just as the water in a cistern may
be said to be waiting to pour through the first pipe that may be
opened.
The result of the descent of divine life is a very great
strengthening and uplifting of the maker of the channel, and the
spreading all about him of a most powerful and beneficent
influence. This effect has often been called an answer to prayer,
and has been attributed by the ignorant to what they call a
"special interposition of Providence," instead of to the unerring
action of the great and immutable divine law.
Self-Renunciation.—Fig. 16 gives us yet another
form of devotion, producing an exquisitely beautiful form of a
type quite new to us—a type in which one might at first
sight suppose that various graceful shapes belonging to animate
nature were being imitated. Fig. 16, for example, is somewhat
suggestive of a partially opened flower-bud, while other forms
are found to bear a certain resemblance to shells or leaves or
tree-shapes. Manifestly, however, these are not and cannot be
copies of vegetable or animal forms, and it seems probable that
the explanation of the similarity lies very much deeper than
that. An analogous and even more significant fact is that some
very complex thought-forms can be exactly imitated by the action
of certain mechanical forces, as has been said above. While with
our present knowledge it would be unwise to attempt a solution of
the very fascinating problem presented by these remarkable
resemblances, it seems likely that we are obtaining a glimpse
across the threshold of a very mighty mystery, for if by certain
thoughts we produce a form which has been duplicated by the
processes of nature, we have at least a presumption that these
forces of nature work along lines somewhat similar to the action
of those thoughts. Since the universe is itself a mighty
thought-form called into existence by the Logos, it may well be that tiny parts of it are
also the thought-forms of minor entities engaged in the same
work; and thus perhaps we may approach a comprehension of what is
meant by the three hundred and thirty million Devas of the
Hindus.
FIG. 16. SELF-RENUNCIATION
This form is of the loveliest pale azure, with a glory of
white light shining through it—something indeed to tax the
skill even of the indefatigable artist who worked so hard to get
them as nearly right as possible. It is what a Catholic would
call a definite "act of devotion"—better still, an act of
utter selflessness, of self-surrender and renunciation.
INTELLECT
Vague Intellectual Pleasure.—Fig. 18 represents a
vague cloud of the same order as those shown in Figs. 8 and 14,
but in this case the colour is yellow instead of crimson or blue.
Yellow in any of man's vehicles always indicates intellectual
capacity, but its shades vary very much, and it may be
complicated by the admixture of other hues. Generally speaking,
it has a deeper and duller tint if the intellect is directed
chiefly into lower channels, more especially if the objects are
selfish. In the astral or mental body of the average man of
business it would show itself as yellow ochre, while pure
intellect devoted to the study of philosophy or mathematics
appears frequently to be golden, and this rises gradually to a
beautiful clear and luminous lemon or primrose yellow when a
powerful intellect is being employed absolutely unselfishly for
the benefit of humanity. Most yellow thought-forms are clearly
outlined, and a vague cloud of this colour is comparatively rare.
It indicates intellectual pleasure—appreciation of the
result of ingenuity, or the delight felt in clever workmanship.
Such pleasure as the ordinary man derives from the contemplation
of a picture usually depends chiefly upon the emotions of
admiration, affection, or pity which it arouses within him, or
sometimes, if it pourtrays a scene with which he is familiar, its
charm consists in its power to awaken the memory of past joys. An
artist, however, may derive from a picture a pleasure of an
entirely different character, based upon his recognition of the
excellence of the work, and of the ingenuity which has been
exercised in producing certain results. Such pure intellectual
gratification shows itself in a yellow cloud; and the same effect
may be produced by delight in musical ingenuity, or the
subtleties of argument. A cloud of this nature betokens the
entire absence of any personal emotion, for if that were present
it would inevitably tinge the yellow with its own appropriate
colour.
FIG. 18. VAGUE INTELLECTUAL
PLEASURE
The Intention to Know.—Fig. 19 is of interest as
showing us something of the growth of a thought-form. The earlier
stage, which is indicated by the upper form, is not uncommon, and
indicates the determination to solve some problem—the
intention to know and to understand. Sometimes a theosophical
lecturer sees many of these yellow serpentine forms projecting
towards him from his audience, and welcomes them as a token that
his hearers are following his arguments intelligently, and have
an earnest desire to understand and to know more. A form of this
kind frequently accompanies a question, and if, as is sometimes
unfortunately the case, the question is put less with the genuine
desire for knowledge than for the purpose of exhibiting the
acumen of the questioner, the form is strongly tinged with the
deep orange that indicates conceit. It was at a theosophical
meeting that this special shape was encountered, and it
accompanied a question which showed considerable thought and
penetration. The answer at first given was not thoroughly
satisfactory to the inquirer, who seems to have received the
impression that his problem was being evaded by the lecturer. His
resolution to obtain a full and thorough answer to his inquiry
became more determined than ever, and his thought-form deepened
in colour and changed into the second of the two shapes,
resembling a cork-screw even more closely than before. Forms
similar to these are constantly created by ordinary idle and
frivolous curiosity, but as there is no intellect involved in
that case the colour is no longer yellow, but usually closely
resembles that of decaying meat, somewhat like that shown in Fig.
29 as expressing a drunken man's craving for alcohol.
FIG. 19. THE INTENTION TO KNOW
High
Ambition.—Fig. 20 gives us another manifestation of
desire—the ambition for place or power. The ambitious
quality is shown by the rich deep orange colour, and the desire
by the hooked extensions which precede the form as it moves. The
thought is a good and pure one of its kind, for if there were
anything base or selfish in the desire it would inevitably show
itself in the darkening of the clear orange hue by dull reds,
browns, or greys. If this man coveted place or power, it was not
for his own sake, but from the conviction that he could do the
work well and truly, and to the advantage of his fellow-men.
FIG. 20. HIGH AMBITION
Selfish Ambition.—Ambition of a lower type is
represented in Fig. 21. Not only have we here a large stain of
the dull brown-grey of selfishness, but there is also a
considerable difference in the form, though it appears to possess
equal definiteness of outline. Fig. 20 is rising steadily onward
towards a definite object, for it will be observed that the
central part of it is as definitely a projectile as Fig. 10. Fig.
21, on the other hand, is a floating form, and is strongly
indicative of general acquisitiveness—the ambition to grasp
for the self everything that is within sight.
FIG. 21. SELFISH AMBITION
ANGER
Murderous Rage and Sustained Anger.—In Figs. 22
and 23 we have two terrible examples of the awful effect of
anger. The lurid flash from dark clouds (Fig. 22) was taken from
the aura of a rough and partially intoxicated man in the East End
of London, as he struck down a woman; the flash darted out at her
the moment before he raised his hand to strike, and caused a
shuddering feeling of horror, as though it might slay. The
keen-pointed stiletto-like dart (Fig. 23) was a thought of steady
anger, intense and desiring vengeance, of the quality of murder,
sustained through years, and directed against a person who had
inflicted a deep injury on the one who sent it forth; had the
latter been possessed of a strong and trained will, such a
thought-form would slay, and the one nourishing it is running a
very serious danger of becoming a murderer in act as well as in
thought in a future incarnation. It will be noted that both of
them take the flash-like form, though the upper is irregular in
its shape, while the lower represents a steadiness of intention
which is far more dangerous. The basis of utter selfishness out
of which the upper one springs is very characteristic and
instructive. The difference in colour between the two is also
worthy of note. In the upper one the dirty brown of selfishness
is so strongly evident that it stains even the outrush of anger;
while in the second case, though no doubt selfishness was at the
root of that also, the original thought has been forgotten in the
sustained and concentrated wrath. One who studies Plate XIII. in
Man Visible and Invisible will be able to image to himself
the condition of the astral body from which these forms are
protruding; and surely the mere sight of these pictures, even
without examination, should prove a powerful object-lesson in the
evil of yielding to the passion of anger.
FIG. 23. SUSTAINED ANGER FIG. 22. MURDEROUS
RAGE
Explosive Anger.—In Fig. 24 we see an exhibition
of anger of a totally different character. Here is no sustained
hatred, but simply a vigorous explosion of irritation. It is at
once evident that while the creators of the forms shown in Figs.
22 and 23 were each directing their ire against an individual,
the person who is responsible for the explosion in Fig. 24 is for
the moment at war with the whole world round him. It may well
express the sentiment of some choleric old gentleman, who feels
himself insulted or impertinently treated, for the dash of orange
intermingled with the scarlet implies that his pride has been
seriously hurt. It is instructive to compare the radiations of
this plate with those of Fig. 11. Here we see indicated a
veritable explosion, instantaneous in its passing and irregular
in its effects; and the vacant centre shows us that the feeling
that caused it is already a thing of the past, and that no
further force is being generated. In Fig. 11, on the other hand,
the centre is the strongest part of the thought-form, showing
that this is not the result of a momentary flash of feeling, but
that there is a steady continuous upwelling of the energy, while
the rays show by their quality and length and the evenness of
their distribution the steadily sustained effort which produces
them.
FIG. 24. EXPLOSIVE ANGER
Watchful and Angry Jealousy.—In Fig. 25 we see an
interesting though unpleasant thought-form. Its peculiar
brownish-green colour at once indicates to the practised
clairvoyant that it is an expression of jealousy, and its curious
shape shows the eagerness with which the man is watching its
object. The remarkable resemblance to the snake with raised head
aptly symbolises the extraordinarily fatuous attitude of the
jealous person, keenly alert to discover signs of that which he
least of all wishes to see. The moment that he does see it, or
imagines that he sees it, the form will change into the far
commoner one shown in Fig. 26, where the jealousy is already
mingled with anger. It may be noted that here the jealousy is
merely a vague cloud, though interspersed with very definite
flashes of anger ready to strike at those by whom it fancies
itself to be injured; whereas in Fig. 25, where there is no anger
as yet, the jealousy itself has a perfectly definite and very
expressive outline.
FIG. 25. WATCHFUL JEALOUSY
FIG. 26. ANGRY JEALOUSY
SYMPATHY
Vague Sympathy.—In Fig. 18A we have another of
the vague clouds, but this time its green colour shows us that it
is a manifestation of the feeling of sympathy. We may infer from
the indistinct character of its outline that it is not a definite
and active sympathy, such as would instantly translate itself
from thought into deed; it marks rather such a general feeling of
commiseration as might come over a man who read an account of a
sad accident, or stood at the door of a hospital ward looking in
upon the patients.
FIG. 18A. VAGUE SYMPATHY
FEAR
Sudden Fright.—One of the most pitiful objects in
nature is a man or an animal in a condition of abject fear; and
an examination of Plate XIV. in Man Visible and Invisible
shows that under such circumstances the astral body presents no
better appearance than the physical. When a man's astral body is
thus in a state of frenzied palpitation, its natural tendency is
to throw off amorphous explosive fragments, like masses of rock
hurled out in blasting, as will be seen in Fig. 30; but when a
person is not terrified but seriously startled, an effect such as
that shown in Fig. 27 is often produced. In one of the
photographs taken by Dr Baraduc of Paris, it was noticed that an
eruption of broken circles resulted from sudden annoyance, and
this outrush of crescent-shaped forms seems to be of somewhat the
same nature, though in this case there are the accompanying lines
of matter which even increase the explosive appearance. It is
noteworthy that all the crescents to the right hand, which must
obviously have been those expelled earliest, show nothing but the
livid grey of fear; but a moment later the man is already
partially recovering from the shock, and beginning to feel angry
that he allowed himself to be startled. This is shown by the fact
that the later crescents are lined with scarlet, evidencing the
mingling of anger and fear, while the last crescent is pure
scarlet, telling us that even already the fright is entirely
overcome, and only the annoyance remains.
FIG. 27. SUDDEN FRIGHT
GREED
Selfish Greed.—Fig. 28 gives us an example of
selfish greed—a far lower type than Fig. 21. It will be
noted that here there is nothing even so lofty as ambition, and
it is also evident from the tinge of muddy green that the person
from whom this unpleasant thought is projecting is quite ready to
employ deceit in order to obtain her desire. While the ambition
of Fig. 21 was general in its nature, the craving expressed in
Fig. 28 is for a particular object towards which it is reaching
out; for it will be understood that this thought-form, like that
in Fig. 13, remains attached to the astral body, which must be
supposed to be on the left of the picture. Claw-like forms of
this nature are very frequently to be seen converging upon a
woman who wears a new dress or bonnet, or some specially
attractive article of jewellery. The thought-form may vary in
colour according to the precise amount of envy or jealousy which
is mingled with the lust for possession, but an approximation to
the shape indicated in our illustration will be found in all
cases. Not infrequently people gathered in front of a shop-window
may be seen thus protruding astral cravings through the
glass.
FIG. 28. SELFISH GREED
Greed for Drink.—In Fig. 29 we have another
variant of the same passion, perhaps at an even more degraded and
animal level. This specimen was taken from the astral body of a
man just as he entered at the door of a drinking-shop; the
expectation of and the keen desire for the liquor which he was
about to absorb showed itself in the projection in front of him
of this very unpleasant appearance. Once more the hooked
protrusions show the craving, while the colour and the coarse
mottled texture show the low and sensual nature of the appetite.
Sexual desires frequently show themselves in an exactly similar
manner. Men who give birth to forms such as this are as yet but
little removed from the animal; as they rise in the scale of
evolution the place of this form will gradually be taken by
something resembling that shown in Fig. 13, and very slowly, as
development advances, that in turn will pass through the stages
indicated in Figs. 9 and 8, until at last all selfishness is cast
out, and the desire to have has been transmuted into the desire
to give, and we arrive at the splendid results shown in Figs. 11
and 10.
FIG. 29. GREED FOR DRINK
VARIOUS
EMOTIONS
At a Shipwreck.—Very serious is the panic which
has occasioned the very interesting group of thought-forms which
are depicted in Fig. 30. They were seen simultaneously, arranged
exactly as represented, though in the midst of indescribable
confusion, so their relative positions have been retained, though
in explaining them it will be convenient to take them in reverse
order. They were called forth by a terrible accident, and they
are instructive as showing how differently people are affected by
sudden and serious danger. One form shows nothing but an eruption
of the livid grey of fear, rising out of a basis of utter
selfishness: and unfortunately there were many such as this. The
shattered appearance of the thought-form shows the violence and
completeness of the explosion, which in turn indicates that the
whole soul of that person was possessed with blind, frantic
terror, and that the overpowering sense of personal danger
excluded for the time every higher feeling.
FIG. 30. AT A SHIPWRECK
The second form represents at least an attempt at
self-control, and shows the attitude adopted by a person having a
certain amount of religious feeling. The thinker is seeking
solace in prayer, and endeavouring in this way to overcome her
fear. This is indicated by the point of greyish-blue which lifts
itself hesitatingly upwards; the colour shows, however, that the
effort is but partially successful, and we see also from the
lower part of the thought-form, with its irregular outline and
its falling fragments, that there is in reality almost as much
fright here as in the other case. But at least this woman has had
presence of mind enough to remember that she ought to pray, and
is trying to imagine that she is not afraid as she does it,
whereas in the other case there was absolutely no thought beyond
selfish terror. The one retains still some semblance of humanity,
and some possibility of regaining self-control; the other has for
the time cast aside all remnants of decency, and is an abject
slave to overwhelming emotion.
A very striking contrast to the humiliating weakness shown in
these two forms is the splendid strength and decision of the
third. Here we have no amorphous mass with quivering lines and
explosive fragments, but a powerful, clear-cut and definite
thought, obviously full of force and resolution. For this is the
thought of the officer in charge—the man responsible for
the lives and the safety of the passengers, and he rises to the
emergency in a most satisfactory manner. It does not even occur
to him to feel the least shadow of fear; he has no time for that.
Though the scarlet of the sharp point of his weapon-like
thought-form shows anger that the accident should have happened,
the bold curve of orange immediately above it betokens perfect
self-confidence and certainty of his power to deal with the
difficulty. The brilliant yellow implies that his intellect is
already at work upon the problem, while the green which runs side
by side with it denotes the sympathy which he feels for those
whom he intends to save. A very striking and instructive group of
thought-forms.
On the First Night.—Fig. 31 is also an
interesting specimen—perhaps unique—for it represents
the thought-form of an actor while waiting to go upon the stage
for a "first-night" performance. The broad band of orange in the
centre is very clearly defined, and is the expression of a
well-founded self-confidence—the realisation of many
previous successes, and the reasonable expectation that on this
occasion another will be added to the list. Yet in spite of this
there is a good deal of unavoidable uncertainty as to how this
new play may strike the fickle public, and on the whole the doubt
and fear overbalance the certainty and pride, for there is more
of the pale grey than of the orange, and the whole thought-form
vibrates like a flag flapping in a gale of wind. It will be noted
that while the outline of the orange is exceedingly clear and
definite, that of the grey is much vaguer.
FIG. 31. ON THE FIRST NIGHT
The Gamblers.—The forms shown in Fig. 32 were
observed simultaneously at the great gambling-house at Monte
Carlo. Both represent some of the worst of human passions, and
there is little to choose between them; although they represent
the feelings of the successful and the unsuccessful gambler
respectively. The lower form has a strong resemblance to a lurid
and gleaming eye, though this must be simply a coincidence, for
when we analyse it we find that its constituent parts and colours
can be accounted for without difficulty. The background of the
whole thought is an irregular cloud of deep depression, heavily
marked by the dull brown-grey of selfishness and the livid hue of
fear. In the centre we find a clearly-marked scarlet ring showing
deep anger and resentment at the hostility of fate, and within
that is a sharply outlined circle of black expressing the hatred
of the ruined man for those who have won his money. The man who
can send forth such a thought-form as this is surely in imminent
danger, for he has evidently descended into the very depths of
despair; being a gambler he can have no principle to sustain him,
so that he would be by no means unlikely to resort to the
imaginary refuge of suicide, only to find on awakening into
astral life that he had changed his condition for the worse
instead of for the better, as the suicide always does, since his
cowardly action cuts him off from the happiness and peace which
usually follow death.
FIG. 32. THE GAMBLERS
The upper form represents a state of mind which is perhaps
even more harmful in its effects, for this is the gloating of the
successful gambler over his ill-gotten gain. Here the outline is
perfectly definite, and the man's resolution to persist in his
evil course is unmistakable. The broad band of orange in the
centre shows very clearly that although when the man loses he may
curse the inconstancy of fate, when he wins he attributes his
success entirely to his own transcendent genius. Probably he has
invented some system to which he pins his faith, and of which he
is inordinately proud. But it will be noticed that on each side
of the orange comes a hard line of selfishness, and we see how
this in turn melts into avarice and becomes a mere animal greed
of possession, which is also so clearly expressed by the
claw-like extremities of the thought-form.
At a Street Accident.—Fig. 33 is instructive as
showing the various forms which the same feelings may take in
different individuals. These two evidences of emotion were seen
simultaneously among the spectators of a street accident—a
case in which someone was knocked down and slightly injured by a
passing vehicle. The persons who generated these two
thought-forms were both animated by affectionate interest in the
victim and deep compassion for his suffering, and so their
thought-forms exhibited exactly the same colours, although the
outlines are absolutely unlike. The one over whom floats that
vague sphere of cloud is thinking "Poor fellow, how sad!" while
he who gives birth to that sharply-defined disc is already
rushing forward to see in what way he can be of assistance. The
one is a dreamer, though of acute sensibilities; the other is a
man of action.
FIG. 33. AT A STREET ACCIDENT
At a Funeral.—In Fig. 34 we have an exceedingly
striking example of the advantage of knowledge, of the
fundamental change produced in the man's attitude of mind by a
clear understanding of the great laws of nature under which we
live. Utterly different as they are in every respect of colour
and form and meaning, these two thought-forms were seen
simultaneously, and they represent two points of view with regard
to the same occurrence. They were observed at a funeral, and they
exhibit the feelings evoked in the minds of two of the "mourners"
by the contemplation of death. The thinkers stood in the same
relation to the dead man, but while one of them was still steeped
in the dense ignorance with regard to super-physical life which
is so painfully common in the present day, the other had the
inestimable advantage of the light of Theosophy. In the thought
of the former we see expressed nothing but profound depression,
fear and selfishness. The fact that death has approached so near
has evidently evoked in the mind of the mourner the thought that
it may one day come to him also, and the anticipation of this is
very terrible to him; but since he does not know what it is that
he fears, the clouds in which his feeling is manifested are
appropriately vague. His only definite sensations are despair and
the sense of his personal loss, and these declare themselves in
regular bands of brown-grey and leaden grey, while the very
curious downward protrusion, which actually descends into the
grave and enfolds the coffin, is an expression of strong selfish
desire to draw the dead man back into physical life.
FIG. 34. AT A FUNERAL
It is refreshing to turn from this gloomy picture to the
wonderfully different effect produced by the very same
circumstances upon the mind of the man who comprehends the facts
of the case. It will be observed that the two have no single
emotion in common; in the former case all was despondency and
horror, while in this case we find none but the highest and most
beautiful sentiments. At the base of the thought-form we find a
full expression of deep sympathy, the lighter green indicating
appreciation of the suffering of the mourners and condolence with
them, while the band of deeper green shows the attitude of the
thinker towards the dead man himself. The deep rose-colour
exhibits affection towards both the dead and the living, while
the upper part of the cone and the stars which rise from it
testify to the feeling aroused within the thinker by the
consideration of the subject of death, the blue expressing its
devotional aspect, while the violet shows the thought of, and the
power to respond to, a noble ideal, and the golden stars denote
the spiritual aspirations which its contemplation calls forth.
The band of clear yellow which is seen in the centre of this
thought-form is very significant, as indicating that the man's
whole attitude is based upon and prompted by his intellectual
comprehension of the situation, and this is also shown by the
regularity of the arrangement of the colours and the definiteness
of the lines of demarcation between them.
The comparison between the two illustrations shown in this
plate is surely a very impressive testimony to the value of the
knowledge given by the theosophical teaching. Undoubtedly this
knowledge of the truth takes away all fear of death, and makes
life easier to live because we understand its object and its end,
and we realise that death is a perfectly natural incident in its
course, a necessary step in our evolution. This ought to be
universally known among Christian nations, but it is not, and
therefore on this point, as on so many others, Theosophy has a
gospel for the Western world. It has to announce that there is no
gloomy impenetrable abyss beyond the grave, but instead of that a
world of life and light which may be known to us as clearly and
fully and accurately as this physical world in which we live now.
We have created the gloom and the horror for ourselves, like
children who frighten themselves with ghastly stories, and we
have only to study the facts of the case, and all these
artificial clouds will roll away at once. We have an evil
heredity behind us in this matter, for we have inherited all
kinds of funereal horrors from our forefathers, and so we are
used to them, and we do not see the absurdity and the monstrosity
of them. The ancients were in this respect wiser than we, for
they did not associate all this phantasmagoria of gloom with the
death of the body—partly perhaps because they had a much
more rational method of disposing of the body—a method
which was not only infinitely better for the dead man and more
healthy for the living, but was also free from the gruesome
suggestions connected with slow decay. They knew much more about
death in those days, and because they knew more they mourned
less.
On Meeting a Friend.—Fig. 35 gives us an example
of a good, clearly-defined and expressive thought-form, with each
colour well marked off from the others. It represents the feeling
of a man upon meeting a friend from whom he has been long
separated. The convex surface of the crescent is nearest to the
thinker, and its two arms stretch out towards the approaching
friend as if to embrace him. The rose colour naturally betokens
the affection felt, the light green shows the depth of the
sympathy which exists, and the clear yellow is a sign of the
intellectual pleasure with which the creator of the thought
anticipates the revival of delightful reminiscences of days long
gone by.
FIG. 35. ON MEETING A FRIEND
The Appreciation of a Picture.—In Fig. 36 we have
a somewhat complex thought-form representing the delighted
appreciation of a beautiful picture upon a religious subject. The
strong pure yellow marks the beholder's enthusiastic recognition
of the technical skill of the artist, while all the other colours
are expressions of the various emotions evoked within him by the
examination of so glorious a work of art. Green shows his
sympathy with the central figure in the picture, deep devotion
appears not only in the broad band of blue, but also in the
outline of the entire figure, while the violet tells us that the
picture has raised the man's thought to the contemplation of a
lofty ideal, and has made him, at least for the time, capable of
responding to it. We have here the first specimen of an
interesting class of thought-forms of which we shall find
abundant examples later—that in which light of one colour
shines out through a network of lines of some quite different
hue. It will be noted that in this case from the mass of violet
there rise many wavy lines which flow like rivulets over a golden
plain; and this makes it clear that the loftiest aspiration is by
no means vague, but is thoroughly supported by an intellectual
grasp of the situation and a clear comprehension of the method by
which it can be put into effect.
FIG. 36. THE APPRECIATION OF A
PICTURE
FORMS SEEN IN THOSE
MEDITATING
Sympathy and Love for all.—Hitherto we have been
dealing chiefly with forms which are the expression of emotion,
or of such thought as is aroused within the mind by external
circumstances. We have now to consider some of those caused by
thoughts which arise from within—forms generated during
meditation—each being the effect produced by a conscious
effort on the part of the thinker to form a certain conception,
or to put himself into a certain attitude. Naturally such
thoughts are definite, for the man who trains himself in this way
learns how to think with clearness and precision, and the
development of his power in this direction shows itself in the
beauty and regularity of the shapes produced. In this case we
have the result of an endeavour on the part of the thinker to put
himself into an attitude of sympathy and love towards all
mankind, and thus we have a series of graceful lines of the
luminous green of sympathy with the strong roseate glow of
affection shining out between them (Fig. 37). The lines are still
sufficiently broad and wide apart to be easily drawn; but in some
of the higher examples of thought-forms of this type the lines
are so fine and so close that no human hand can represent them as
they really are. The outline of this thought-form is that of a
leaf, yet its shape and the curve of its lines are more
suggestive of a certain kind of shell, so that this is another
example of the approximation to forms seen in physical nature
which we noted in commenting upon Fig. 16.
FIG. 37. SYMPATHY AND LOVE FOR
ALL
An Aspiration to Enfold all.—In Fig. 38 we have a
far more developed example of the same type. This form was
generated by one who was trying, while sitting in meditation, to
fill his mind with an aspiration to enfold all mankind in order
to draw them upward towards the high ideal which shone so clearly
before his eyes. Therefore it is that the form which he produces
seems to rush out from him, to curve round upon itself, and to
return to its base; therefore it is that the marvellously fine
lines are drawn in lovely luminous violet, and that from within
the form there shines out a glorious golden light which it is
unfortunately quite impossible to reproduce. For the truth is
that all these apparently intricate lines are in reality only one
line circling round the form again and again with unwearied
patience and wonderful accuracy. It is scarcely possible that any
human hand could make such a drawing as this on this scale, and
in any case the effect of its colours could not be shown, for it
will be seen by experiment that if an attempt be made to draw
fine violet lines close together upon a yellow background a grey
effect at once appears, and all likeness to the original is
destroyed. But what cannot be done by hand may sometimes be
achieved by the superior accuracy and delicacy of a machine, and
it is in this way that the drawing was made from which our
illustration is reproduced,—with some attempt to represent
the colour effect as well as the wonderful delicacy of the lines
and curves.
FIG. 38. AN ASPIRATION TO ENFOLD
ALL
In the Six Directions.—The form represented in
Fig. 39 is the result of another endeavour to extend love and
sympathy in all directions—an effort almost precisely
similar to that which gave birth to Fig. 37, though the effect
seems so different. The reasons for this variety and for the
curious shape taken in this case constitute a very interesting
illustration of the way in which thought-forms grow. It will be
seen that in this instance the thinker displays considerable
devotional feeling, and has also made an intellectual effort to
grasp the conditions necessary for the realisation of his wishes,
and the blue and yellow colours remain as evidence of this.
Originally this thought-form was circular, and the dominant idea
evidently was that the green of sympathy should be upon the
outside, facing in all directions, as it were, and that love
should lie at the centre and heart of the thought and direct its
outgoing energies. But the maker of this thought-form had been
reading Hindu books, and his modes of thought had been greatly
influenced by them. Students of Oriental literature will be aware
that the Hindu speaks, not of four directions (north, east,
south, and west), as we do, but always of six, since he very
sensibly includes the zenith and the nadir. Our friend was imbued
from his reading with the idea that he should pour forth his love
and sympathy "in the six directions"; but since he did not
accurately understand what the six directions are, he directed
his stream of affection towards six equidistant points in his
circle. The outrushing streams altered the shape of the outlying
lines which he had already built up, and so instead of having a
circle as a section of his thought-form, we have this curious
hexagon with its inward-curving sides. We see thus how faithfully
every thought-form records the exact process of its upbuilding,
registering ineffaceably even the errors of its construction.
FIG. 39. IN THE SIX DIRECTIONS
An Intellectual Conception of Cosmic Order.—In
Fig. 40 we have the effect of an attempt to attain an
intellectual conception of cosmic order. The thinker was
obviously a Theosophist, and it will be seen that when he
endeavours to think of the action of spirit upon matter he
instinctively follows the same line of symbolism as that depicted
in the well-known seal of the Society. Here we have an
upward-pointing triangle, signifying the threefold aspect of the
Spirit, interlaced with the downward-pointing triangle, which
indicates matter with its three inherent qualities. Usually we
represent the upward triangle in white or gold, and the
downward-pointing one in some darker hue such as blue or black,
but it is noteworthy that in this case the thinker is so entirely
occupied with the intellectual endeavour, that no colour but
yellow is exhibited within the form. There is no room as yet for
emotions of devotion, of wonder, or of admiration; the idea which
he wishes to realise fills his mind entirely, to the exclusion of
all else. Still the definiteness of the outline as it stands out
against its background of rays shows that he has achieved a high
measure of success.
FIG. 40. AN INTELLECTUAL CONCEPTION OF
COSMIC ORDER
The Logos as manifested in Man.—We are now coming
to a series of thoughts which are among the very highest the
human mind can form, when in meditation upon the divine source of
its being. When the man in reverent contemplation tries to raise
his thought towards the Logos of our
solar system, he naturally makes no attempt to image to himself
that august Being; nor does he think of Him as in any way
possessing such form as we can comprehend. Nevertheless such
thoughts build forms for themselves in the matter of the mental
plane; and it will be of interest for us to examine those forms.
In our illustration in Fig. 41 we have a thought of the
Logos as manifested in man, with the
devotional aspiration that He may thus be manifested through the
thinker. It is this devotional feeling which gives the pale blue
tinge to the five-pointed star, and its shape is significant,
since it has been employed for many ages as a symbol of God
manifest in man. The thinker may perhaps have been a Freemason,
and his knowledge of the symbolism employed by that body may have
had its share in the shaping of the star. It will be seen that
the star is surrounded by bright yellow rays shining out amidst a
cloud of glory, which denotes not only the reverential
understanding of the surpassing glory of the Deity, but also a
distinct intellectual effort in addition to the outpouring of
devotion.
FIG. 41. THE LOGOS AS MANIFESTED IN
MAN
The Logos pervading all.—Our next three Figures
are devoted to the effort to represent a thought of a very high
type—an endeavour to think of the Logos as pervading all nature. Here again, as in
Fig. 38, it is impossible to give a full reproduction, and we
must call upon our readers for an effort of the imagination which
shall to some extent supplement the deficiencies of the arts of
drawing and printing. The golden ball depicted in Fig. 42 must be
thought of as inside the other ball of delicate lines (blue in
colour) which is drawn in Fig. 44. Any effort to place the
colours in such intimate juxtaposition on the physical plane
results simply in producing a green blur, so that the whole
character of the thought-form is lost. It is only by means of the
machine before mentioned that it is at all possible to represent
the grace and the delicacy of the lines. As before, a single line
produces all the wonderful tracery of Fig. 44, and the effect of
the four radiating lines making a sort of cross of light is
merely due to the fact that the curves are not really concentric,
although at first sight they appear to be so.
FIG. 42. THE LOGOS PERVADING
ALL
FIG. 46. THE THREEFOLD MANIFESTATIONFIG.
45. ANOTHER CONCEPTION
FIG. 44. THE LOGOS PERVADING ALL FIG. 47. THE SEVENFOLD
MANIFESTATION
Another Conception.—Fig. 45 exhibits the form
produced by another person when trying to hold exactly the same
thought. Here also we have an amazing complexity of almost
inconceivably delicate blue lines, and here also our imagination
must be called upon to insert the golden globe from Fig. 42, so
that its glory may shine through at every point. Here also, as in
Fig. 44, we have that curious and beautiful pattern, resembling
somewhat the damascening on ancient Oriental swords, or that
which is seen upon watered silk or moire antique. When
this form is drawn by the pendulum, the pattern is not in any way
intentionally produced, but simply comes as a consequence of the
crossing of the innumerable microscopically fine lines. It is
evident that the thinker who created the form upon Fig. 44 must
have held in his mind most prominently the unity of the
Logos, while he who generated the form
in Fig. 45 has as clearly in mind the subordinate centres through
which the divine life pours forth, and many of these subordinate
centres have accordingly represented themselves in the
thought-form.
The Threefold Manifestation.—When the form
employed in Fig. 46 was made, its creator was endeavouring to
think of the Logos in His threefold
manifestation. The vacant space in the centre of the form was a
blinding glow of yellow light, and this clearly typified the
First Aspect, while the Second was symbolised by the broad ring
of closely-knitted and almost bewildering lines which surround
this centre, while the Third Aspect is suggested by the narrow
outer ring which seems more loosely woven. The whole figure is
pervaded by the usual golden light gleaming out between the lines
of violet.
The Sevenfold Manifestation.—In all religions
there remains some tradition of the great truth that the
Logos manifests Himself through seven
mighty channels, often regarded as minor Logoi or great planetary
Spirits. In the Christian scheme they appear as the seven great
archangels, sometimes called the seven spirits before the throne
of God. The figure numbered 47 shows the result of the effort to
meditate upon this method of divine manifestation. We have the
golden glow in the centre, and also (though with lesser
splendour) pervading the form. The line is blue, and it draws a
succession of seven graceful and almost featherlike double wings
which surround the central glory and are clearly intended as a
part of it. As the thought strengthens and expands, these
beautiful wings change their colour to violet and become like the
petals of a flower, and overlap one another in an intricate but
exceedingly effective pattern. This gives us a very interesting
glimpse into the formation and growth of these shapes in higher
matter.
Intellectual Aspiration.—The form depicted in
Fig. 43 bears a certain resemblance to that in Fig. 15; but,
beautiful as that was, this is in reality a far higher and
grander thought, and implies much more advanced development on
the part of the thinker. Here we have a great clear-cut spear or
pencil of the pure pale violet which indicates devotion to the
highest ideal, and it is outlined and strengthened by an
exceedingly fine manifestation of the noblest development of
intellect. He who can think thus must already have entered upon
the Path of Holiness, for he has learnt how to use the power of
thought to very mighty effect. It will be noted that in both the
colours there is a strong admixture of the white light which
always indicates unusual spiritual power.
FIG. 43. INTELLECTUAL
ASPIRATION
Surely the study of these thought-forms should be a most
impressive object-lesson, since from it we may see both what to
avoid and what to cultivate, and may learn by degrees to
appreciate how tremendous is our responsibility for the exercise
of this mighty power. Indeed it is terribly true, as we said in
the beginning, that thoughts are things, and puissant things; and
it behoves us to remember that every one of us is generating them
unceasingly night and day. See how great is the happiness this
knowledge brings to us, and how gloriously we can utilise it when
we know of some one in sorrow or in suffering. Often
circumstances arise which prevent us from giving physical help
either by word or deed, however much we may desire to do so; but
there is no case in which help by thought may not be given, and
no case in which it can fail to produce a definite result. It may
often happen that at the moment our friend may be too entirely
occupied with his own suffering, or perhaps too much excited, to
receive and accept any suggestion from without, but presently a
time comes when our thought-form can penetrate and discharge
itself, and then assuredly our sympathy will produce its due
result. It is indeed true that the responsibility of using such a
power is great, yet we should not shrink from our duty on that
account. It is sadly true that there are many men who are
unconsciously using their thought-power chiefly for evil, yet
this only makes it all the more necessary that those of us who
are beginning to understand life a little should use it
consciously, and use it for good. We have at our command a
never-failing criterion; we can never misuse this mighty power of
thought if we employ it always in unison with the great divine
scheme of evolution, and for the uplifting of our fellow-man.
HELPFUL
THOUGHTS
The Figures numbered 48 to 54 were the results of a systematic
attempt to send helpful thought by the friend who has furnished
us with the sketches. A definite time was given each day at a
fixed hour. The forms were in some cases seen by the transmitter,
but in all cases were perceived by the recipient, who immediately
sent rough sketches of what was seen by the next post to the
transmitter, who has kindly supplied the following notes with
regard to them:—
"In the coloured drawings appended the blue features appear to
have represented the more devotional element of the thought. The
yellow forms accompanied the endeavour to communicate
intellectual fortitude, or mental strength and courage. The rosy
pink appeared when the thought was blended with affectionate
sympathy. If the sender (A.) could formulate his thought
deliberately at the appointed time, the receiver (B.) would
report seeing a large clear form as in Figs. 48, 49, and 54. The
latter persisted for some minutes, constantly streaming its
luminous yellow 'message' upon B. If, however, A. was of
necessity experimenting under difficulty—say walking out of
doors—he would occasionally see his 'forms' broken up into
smaller globes, or shapes, such as 50, 51, 52, and B. would
report their receipt so broken up. In this way many details could
be checked and compared as from opposite ends of the line, and
the nature of the influence communicated offered another means of
verification. Upon one occasion A. was disturbed in his endeavour
to send a thought of the blue-pink connotation, by a feeling of
anxiety that the nature of the pink element should not be
misapprehended. The report of B. was that a well-defined globe as
in Fig. 54 was first seen, but that this suddenly disappeared,
being replaced by a moving procession of little light-green
triangles, as in Fig. 53. These few drawings give but a slight
idea of the varied flower-like and geometric forms seen, while
neither paint nor crayon-work seems capable of representing the
glowing beauty of their living colours."
FIG. 48. HELPFUL THOUGHTS
FIG. 49. HELPFUL THOUGHTS
FIG. 50. HELPFUL THOUGHTS
FIG. 51. HELPFUL THOUGHTS
FIG. 52. HELPFUL THOUGHTS
FIG. 53. HELPFUL THOUGHTS
FIG. 54. HELPFUL THOUGHTS
FORMS BUILT BY MUSIC
Before closing this little treatise it will perhaps be of
interest to our readers to give a few examples of another type of
forms unknown to those who are confined to the physical senses as
their means of obtaining information. Many people are aware that
sound is always associated with colour—that when, for
example, a musical note is sounded, a flash of colour
corresponding to it may be seen by those whose finer senses are
already to some extent developed. It seems not to be so generally
known that sound produces form as well as colour, and that every
piece of music leaves behind it an impression of this nature,
which persists for some considerable time, and is clearly visible
and intelligible to those who have eyes to see. Such a shape is
perhaps not technically a thought-form—unless indeed we
take it, as we well may, as the result of the thought of the
composer expressed by means of the skill of the musician through
his instrument.
Some such forms are very striking and impressive, and
naturally their variety is infinite. Each class of music has its
own type of form, and the style of the composer shows as clearly
in the form which his music builds as a man's character shows in
his handwriting. Other possibilities of variation are introduced
by the kind of instrument upon which the music is performed, and
also by the merits of the player. The same piece of music if
accurately played will always build the same form, but that form
will be enormously larger when it is played upon a church organ
or by a military band than when it is performed upon a piano, and
not only the size but also the texture of the resultant form will
be very different. There will also be a similar difference in
texture between the result of a piece of music played upon a
violin and the same piece executed upon the flute. Again, the
excellence of the performance has its effect, and there is a
wonderful difference between the radiant beauty of the form
produced by the work of a true artist, perfect alike in
expression and execution, and the comparatively dull and
undistinguished-looking one which represents the effort of the
wooden and mechanical player. Anything like inaccuracy in
rendering naturally leaves a corresponding defect in the form, so
that the exact character of the performance shows itself just as
clearly to the clairvoyant spectator as it does to the
auditor.
It is obvious that, if time and capacity permitted, hundreds
of volumes might be filled with drawings of the forms built by
different pieces of music under different conditions, so that the
most that can be done within any reasonable compass is to give a
few examples of the leading types. It has been decided for the
purposes of this book to limit these to three, to take types of
music presenting readily recognisable contrasts, and for the sake
of simplicity in comparison to present them all as they appeared
when played upon the same instrument—a very fine church
organ. In each of our Plates the church shows as well as the
thought-form which towers far into the air above it; and it
should be remembered that though the drawings are on very
different scales the church is the same in all three cases, and
consequently the relative size of the sound-form can easily be
calculated. The actual height of the tower of the church is just
under a hundred feet, so it will be seen that the sound-form
produced by a powerful organ is enormous in size.
Such forms remain as coherent erections for some considerable
time—an hour or two at least; and during all that time they
are radiating forth their characteristic vibrations in every
direction, just as our thought-forms do; and if the music be
good, the effect of those vibrations cannot but be uplifting to
every man upon whose vehicles they play. Thus the community owes
a very real debt of gratitude to the musician who pours forth
such helpful influences, for he may affect for good hundreds whom
he never saw and will never know upon the physical plane.
Mendelssohn.—The first of such
forms, a comparatively small and simple one, is drawn for us in
Plate M. It will be seen that we have here a shape roughly
representing that of a balloon, having a scalloped outline
consisting of a double violet line. Within that there is an
arrangement of variously-coloured lines moving almost parallel
with this outline; and then another somewhat similar arrangement
which seems to cross and interpenetrate the first. Both of these
sets of lines evidently start from the organ within the church,
and consequently pass upward through its roof in their course,
physical matter being clearly no obstacle to their formation. In
the hollow centre of the form float a number of small crescents
arranged apparently in four vertical lines.
PLATE M. MUSIC OF MENDELSSOHN
Let us endeavour now to give some clue to the meaning of all
this, which may well seem so bewildering to the novice, and to
explain in some measure how it comes into existence. It must be
recollected that this is a melody of simple character played once
through, and that consequently we can analyse the form in a way
that would be quite impossible with a larger and more complicated
specimen. Yet even in this case we cannot give all the details,
as will presently be seen. Disregarding for the moment the
scalloped border, we have next within it an arrangement of four
lines of different colours running in the same direction, the
outermost being blue and the others crimson, yellow, and green
respectively. These lines are exceedingly irregular and crooked;
in fact, they each consist of a number of short lines at various
levels joined together perpendicularly. It seems that each of
these short lines represents a note of music, and that the
irregularity of their arrangement indicates the succession of
these notes; so that each of these crooked lines signifies the
movement of one of the parts of the melody, the four moving
approximately together denoting the treble, alto, tenor and bass
respectively, though they do not necessarily appear in that order
in this astral form. Here it is necessary to interpolate a still
further explanation. Even with a melody so comparatively simple
as this there are tints and shades far too finely modulated to be
reproduced on any scale at all within our reach; therefore it
must be said that each of the short lines expressing a note has a
colour of its own, so that although as a whole that outer line
gives an impression of blueness, and the one next within it of
carmine, each yet varies in every inch of its length; so that
what is shown is not a correct reproduction of every tint, but
only the general impression.
The two sets of four lines which seem to cross one another are
caused by two sections of the melody; the scalloped edging
surrounding the whole is the result of various flourishes and
arpeggios, and the floating crescents in the centre represent
isolated or staccato chords. Naturally the arpeggios are not
wholly violet, for each loop has a different hue, but on the
whole they approach more nearly to that colour than to any other.
The height of this form above the tower of the church is probably
a little over a hundred feet; but since it also extends downwards
through the roof of the church its total perpendicular diameter
may well be about a hundred and fifty feet. It is produced by one
of Mendelssohn's "Lieder ohne Wörte," and is characteristic
of the delicate filigree-work which so often appears as the
result of his compositions.
The whole form is seen projected against a coruscating
background of many colours, which is in reality a cloud
surrounding it upon every side, caused by the vibrations which
are pouring out from it in all directions.
Gounod.—In
Plate G we have an entirely different piece—a ringing
chorus by Gounod. Since the church in the illustration is the
same, it is easy to calculate that in this case the highest point
of the form must rise fully six hundred feet above the tower,
though the perpendicular diameter of the form is somewhat less
than that, for the organist has evidently finished some minutes
ago, and the perfected shape floats high in the air, clearly
defined and roughly spherical, though rather an oblate spheroid.
This spheroid is hollow, as are all such forms, for it is slowly
increasing in size—gradually radiating outward from its
centre, but growing proportionately less vivid and more ethereal
in appearance as it does so, until at last it loses coherence and
fades away much as a wreath of smoke might do. The golden glory
surrounding and interpenetrating it indicates as before the
radiation of its vibrations, which in this case show the dominant
yellow in much greater proportion than did Mendelssohn's gentler
music.
PLATE G. MUSIC OF GOUNOD
The colouring here is far more brilliant and massive than in
Plate M, for this music is not so much a thread of murmurous
melody as a splendid succession of crashing chords. The artist
has sought to give the effect of the chords rather than that of
the separate notes, the latter being scarcely possible on a scale
so small as this. It is therefore more difficult here to follow
the development of the form, for in this much longer piece the
lines have crossed and intermingled, until we have little but the
gorgeous general effect which the composer must have intended us
to feel—and to see, if we were able to see. Nevertheless it
is possible to discern something of the process which builds the
form, and the easiest point at which to commence is the lowest on
the left hand as one examines the Plate. The large violet
protrusion there is evidently the opening chord of a phrase, and
if we follow the outer line of the form upward and round the
circumference we may obtain some idea of the character of that
phrase. A close inspection will reveal two other lines further in
which run roughly parallel to this outer one, and show similar
successions of colour on a smaller scale, and these may well
indicate a softer repetition of the same phrase.
Careful analysis of this nature will soon convince us that
there is a very real order in this seeming chaos, and we shall
come to see that if it were possible to make a reproduction of
this glowing glory that should be accurate down to the smallest
detail, it would also be possible patiently to disentangle it to
the uttermost, and to assign every lovely touch of coruscating
colour to the very note that called it into existence. It must
not be forgotten that very far less detail is given in this
illustration than in Plate M; for example, each of these points
or projections has within it as integral parts, at least the four
lines or bands of varying colour which were shown as separate in
Plate M, but here they are blended into one shade, and only the
general effect of the chord is given. In M we combined
horizontally, and tried to show, the characteristics of a number
of successive notes blended into one, but to keep distinct the
effect of the four simultaneous parts by using a
differently-coloured line for each. In G we attempt exactly the
reverse, for we combine vertically, and blend, not the successive
notes of one part, but the chords, each probably containing six
or eight notes. The true appearance combines these two effects
with an inexpressible wealth of detail.
Wagner.—No
one who has devoted any study to these musical forms would
hesitate in ascribing the marvellous mountain-range depicted in
Plate W to the genius of Richard Wagner, for no other composer
has yet built sound edifices with such power and decision. In
this case we have a vast bell-shaped erection, fully nine hundred
feet in height, and but little less in diameter at the bottom,
floating in the air above the church out of which it has arisen.
It is hollow, like Gounod's form, but, unlike that, it is open at
the bottom. The resemblance to the successively retreating
ramparts of a mountain is almost perfect, and it is heightened by
the billowy masses of cloud which roll between the crags and give
the effect of perspective. No attempt has been made in this
drawing to show the effect of single notes or single chords; each
range of mimic rocks represents in size, shape, and colour only
the general effect of one of the sections of the piece of music
as seen from a distance. But it must be understood that in
reality both this and the form given in Plate G are as full of
minute details as that depicted in Plate M, and that all these
magnificent masses of colour are built up of many comparatively
small bands which would not be separately visible upon the scale
on which this is drawn. The broad result is that each
mountain-peak has its own brilliant hue, just as it is seen in
the illustration—a splendid splash of vivid colour, glowing
with the glory of its own living light, spreading its resplendent
radiance over all the country round. Yet in each of these masses
of colour other colours are constantly flickering, as they do
over the surface of molten metal, so that the coruscations and
scintillations of these wondrous astral edifices are far beyond
the power of any physical words to describe.
PLATE W. MUSIC OF WAGNER
A striking feature in this form is the radical difference
between the two types of music which occur in it, one producing
the angular rocky masses, and the other the rounded billowy
clouds which lie between them. Other motifs are shown by
the broad bands of blue and rose and green which appear at the
base of the bell, and the meandering lines of white and yellow
which quiver across them are probably produced by a rippling
arpeggio accompaniment.
In these three Plates only the form created directly by the
sound-vibrations has been drawn, though as seen by the
clairvoyant it is usually surrounded by many other minor forms,
the result of the personal feelings of the performer or of the
emotions aroused among the audience by the music. To recapitulate
briefly: in Plate M we have a small and comparatively simple form
pourtrayed in considerable detail, something of the effect of
each note being given; in Plate G we have a more elaborate form
of very different character delineated with less detail, since no
attempt is made to render the separate notes, but only to show
how each chord expresses itself in form and colour; in Plate W we
have a still greater and richer form, in the depiction of which
all detail is avoided, in order that the full effect of the piece
as a whole may be approximately given.
Naturally every sound makes its impression upon astral and
mental matter—not only those ordered successions of sounds
which we call music. Some day, perhaps, the forms built by those
other less euphonious sounds may be pictured for us, though they
are beyond the scope of this treatise; meantime, those who feel
an interest in them may read an account of them in the little
book on The Hidden Side of Things.[1]
It is well for us ever to bear in mind that there is a hidden
side to life—that each act and word and thought has its
consequence in the unseen world which is always so near to us,
and that usually these unseen results are of infinitely greater
importance than those which are visible to all upon the physical
plane. The wise man, knowing this, orders his life accordingly,
and takes account of the whole of the world in which he lives,
and not of the outer husk of it only. Thus he saves himself an
infinity of trouble, and makes his life not only happier but far
more useful to his fellow-men. But to do this implies
knowledge—that knowledge which is power; and in our Western
world such knowledge is practically obtainable only through the
literature of Theosophy.
To exist is not enough; we desire to live intelligently. But
to live we must know, and to know we must study; and here is a
vast field open before us, if we will only enter upon it and
gather thence the fruits of enlightenment. Let us, then, waste no
more time in the dark dungeons of ignorance, but come forth
boldly into the glorious sunshine of that divine wisdom which in
these modern days men call Theosophy.
[1] By C.W.
Leadbeater.
BRADFORD: REPRINTED BY PERCY LUND, HUMPHRIES AND CO.
LTD.
End of Project Gutenberg's Thought-Forms, by Annie Besant C.W.
Leadbeater
