CHAPTER XXIV
NIGHT OF AN IMMORTAL
I passed a most remarkable night. On reaching home I went to bed asusual. My mind was busy, but what busied it was not the events of theday.
I lay in the darkness in a state of absolute contentment. My eyes wereclosed. My body was motionless, and felt warm and comfortable. I wasquite aware of the position of my limbs in space and I could hear thesound of passing vehicles outside. I was not asleep and yet at the sametime I was not awake. I knew I was not properly awake because, when Itried to move, there seemed to be a resistance to the impulse, whichprevented it from reaching the muscles. As I have already said, I couldfeel. The sensation of my body was there, though probably diminished,but the power of movement was checked, though only slightly. And allthe time I lay in that state, my mind was perfectly lucid andcontinually active. I thought about many things and the power of thoughtwas very great, in that I could keep my attention fixed hour after houron the same train of thought, go backwards and forwards along it, changeand modify its gradations, just as if I were dealing with some materialand plastic formation. Since that time I have become acquainted with adoctrine that teaches that thoughts are in the nature of things--that adefinite thought is a formation in some tenuous medium of matter, justas a cathedral is a structure in gross matter. This is certainly thekind of impression I gained then.
It was now in the light of contrast that I could reflect on the rustyand clumsy way in which I had previously done my thinking, and Iremembered with a faint amusement that there had been a time when Iconsidered that I had a very clear and logical mind. Logical! What didwe, as mere mortals full of personal desire, know of logic? Thereflection seemed infinitely humorous. My thoughts had about them a newquality of stability. They formed themselves into clear images, whichhad a remarkable permanence. Their power and influence was greatlyincreased. If, for example, I thought out a bungalow situated on thecliff, I built up, piece by piece in my mind, the complete picture; andonce built up it remained there so that I could see it as a whole, andalmost, so to speak, walk round it and view it from different angles. Icould lay aside this thought-creation just as I might lay aside a modelin clay, and later on bring it back into my mind, as fresh and clear asever. The enjoyment of thinking under such conditions is impossible todescribe. It was like the joy of a man, blind from childhood, suddenlyreceiving his sight.
As ordinary mortals, we are all familiar with the apparently real scenesthat occur in dreams. In our dreams we see buildings and walk roundthem. We see flights of steps and climb them. We apparently touch andtaste food. We meet friends and strangers and converse with them. Attimes we seem to gaze over landscapes covered with woods and meadows.
It seemed to me that the magic of dreams had in some way become attachedto thought. For as Immortals we did not dream as mortals do. In placeof dreaming, we created immense thought-forms, working as it were on anew plane of matter whose resources were inexhaustible.
That night I built my ideal bungalow and when I had finished it Iconstructed my ideal garden. And then I made a sea and a coast-line, andwhen it was finished it was so real to me that I actually seemed to gointo its rooms, sit on the verandah, breathe in its sea-airs and listento the surf below its cliff. I remember that one of its rooms did notplease me entirely, and that I seemed to pull it down--in thought--andreconstruct it according to my wish. This took time, for brick by brickI thought the new room into existence. One law that governed that statewas easy to grasp, for whatever you did not think out clearly assumed ablurred unsatisfactory form. It became clear to me as early as thatfirst night of immortality that the more familiar a man was with matteron the earth and its ways and possibilities, the more easily could hemake his constructions on that plan of thought.
The whole of that night I lay in this state of creative joy and I knowthat my body remained motionless. It seemed that only a film divided mefrom the use of my limbs, but that film was definite. At eight o'clockon that morning, I became aware of a vague feeling of strain. It was avery slight sensation, but its effect was to make the thoughts thatoccupied my consciousness to become less definite. I had to make aneffort to keep them distinct. The strain slowly became greater. It hadbegun with a sense of distance, but it seemed to get nearer, and Iexperienced a feeling that I can only compare to as that which a man haswhen he is losing his balance and about to fall.
The strain ended suddenly. I found myself moving my limbs. I opened myeyes and looked round. The graphic, visible quality of my thoughts hadnow vanished. I was awake.
I have given the above account of the night of an Immortal, because ithas seemed to me right that some record should be left of the effect ofthe germ on the mind. I would explain the inherent power of thought asbeing due to the freedom from the ordinary desires of mortals, whichwaste and dissipate the energies of the mind ... but of that I cannot becertain.
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