THE INNER CIRCLE, OR THE END OF GRAVITATION.--IN THE BOTTOMLESS
GULF.
I recall a whirling sensation, and an involuntary attempt at
self-preservation, in which I threw my arms wildly about with a vain
endeavor to clutch some form of solid body, which movement naturally
ended by a tight clasping of my guide in my arms, and locked together we
continued to speed down into the seven thousand miles of vacancy.
Instinctively I murmured a prayer of supplication, and awaited the
approaching hereafter, which, as I believed, would quickly witness the
extinction of my unhappy life, the end of my material existence; but the
moments (if time can be so divided when no sun marks the division)
multiplied without bodily shock or physical pain of any description; I
retained my consciousness.
"Open your eyes," said my guide, "you have no cause for fear."
I acquiesced in an incredulous, dazed manner.
"This unusual experience is sufficient to unnerve you, but you need have
no fear, for you are not in corporal danger, and can relax your grasp on
my person."
I cautiously obeyed him, misgivingly, and slowly loosened my hold, then
gazed about to find that we were in a sea of light, and that only light
was visible, that form of light which I have before said is an entity
without source of radiation. In one direction, however, a great gray
cloud hung suspended and gloomy, dark in the center, and shading
therefrom in a circle, to disappear entirely at an angle of about
forty-five degrees.
"This is the earth-shelf from which we sprung," said the guide; "it will
soon disappear."
Wherever I glanced this radiant exhalation, a peaceful, luminous
envelope, this rich, soft, beautiful white light appeared. The power of
bodily motion I found still a factor in my frame, obedient, as before,
to my will. I could move my limbs freely, and my intellect seemed to be
intact. Finally I became impressed with the idea that I must be at
perfect rest, but if so what could be the nature of the substance, or
material, upon which I was resting so complacently? No; this could not
be true. Then I thought: "I have been instantly killed by a painless
shock, and my spirit is in heaven;" but my earthly body and coarse,
ragged garments were palpable realities; the sense of touch, sight, and
hearing surely were normal, and a consideration of these facts dispelled
my first conception.
"Where are we now?"
"Moving into earth's central space."
"I comprehend that a rushing wind surrounds us which is not
uncomfortable, but otherwise I experience no unusual sensation, and can
not realize but that I am at rest."
"The sensation, as of a blowing wind, is in consequence of our rapid
motion, and results from the friction between our bodies and the
quiescent, attenuated atmosphere which exists even here, but this
atmosphere becomes less and less in amount until it will disappear
altogether at a short distance below us. Soon we will be in a perfect
calm, and although moving rapidly, to all appearances will be at
absolute rest."
Naturally, perhaps, my mind attempted, as it so often had done, to urge
objections to his statements, and at first it occurred to me that I did
not experience the peculiar sinking away sensation in the chest that I
remembered follows, on earth, the downward motion of a person falling
from a great height, or moving rapidly in a swing, and I questioned him
on the absence of that phenomenon.
"The explanation is simple," he said; "on the surface of the earth a
sudden motion, either upward or downward, disturbs the equilibrium of
the organs of respiration, and of the heart, and interferes with the
circulation of the blood. This produces a change in blood pressure
within the brain, and the 'sinking' sensation in the chest, or the
dizziness of the head of a person moving rapidly, or it may even result
in unconsciousness, and complete suspension of respiration, effects
which sometimes follow rapid movements, as in a person falling from a
considerable height. Here circumstances are entirely different. The
heart is quiet, the lungs in a comatose condition, and the blood
stagnant. Mental sensations, therefore, that result from a disturbed
condition of these organs are wanting, and, although we are experiencing
rapid motion, we are in the full possession of our physical selves, and
maintain our mental faculties unimpaired."
Again I interposed an objection:
"If, as you say, we are really passing through an attenuated atmosphere
with increasing velocity, according to the law that governs falling
bodies that are acted upon by gravity which continually accelerates
their motion, the friction between ourselves and the air will ultimately
become so intense as to wear away our bodies."
"Upon the contrary," said he, "this attenuated atmosphere is decreasing
in density more rapidly than our velocity increases, and before long it
will have altogether disappeared. You can perceive that the wind, as you
call it, is blowing less violently than formerly; soon it will entirely
cease, as I have already predicted, and at that period, regardless of
our motion, we will appear to be stationary."
Pondering over the final result of this strange experience I became
again alarmed, for accepting the facts to be as he stated, such motion
would ultimately carry us against the opposite crust of the earth, and
without a doubt the shock would end our existence. I inquired about
this, to me, self-evident fact, and he replied:
"Long before we reach the opposite crust of the earth, our motion will
be arrested."
I had begun now to feel a self-confidence that is surprising as I recall
that remarkable position in connection with my narrow experience in true
science, and can say that instead of despondency, I really enjoyed an
elated sensation, a curious exhilaration, a feeling of delight, which I
have no words to describe. Life disturbances and mental worry seemed to
have completely vanished, and it appeared as if, with mental perception
lucid, I were under the influence of a powerful soporific; the cares of
mortals had disappeared. After a while the wind ceased to blow, as my
guide had predicted, and with the suspension of that factor, all that
remained to remind me of earth phenomena had vanished. There was no
motion of material, nothing to mar or disturb the most perfect peace
imaginable; I was so exquisitely happy that I now actually feared some
change might occur to interrupt that quiescent existence. It was as a
deep, sweet sleep in which, with faculties alive, unconsciousness was
self-conscious, peaceful, restful, blissful. I listlessly turned my
eyes, searching space in all directions--to meet vacancy everywhere,
absolute vacancy. I took from my pocket (into which I had hastily thrust
it) the bar of iron, and released it; the metal remained motionless
beside me.
"Traveling through this expanse with the rapidity of ourselves," said my
guide.
I closed my eyes and endeavored to convince myself that I was
dreaming--vainly, however. I opened my eyes, and endeavored to convince
myself that I was moving, equally in vain. I became oblivious to
everything save the delicious sensation of absolute rest that enveloped
and pervaded my being.
"I am neither alive nor dead," I murmured; "neither asleep nor awake;
neither moving nor at rest, and neither standing, reclining, nor
sitting. If I exist I can not bring evidence to prove that fact, neither
can I prove that I am dead."
"Can any man prove either of these premises?" said the guide.
"I have never questioned the matter," said I; "it is a self-evident
fact."
"Know then," said he, "that existence is a theory, and that man is
incapable of demonstrating that he has a being. All evidences of mortal
life are only as the phantasms of hallucination. As a moment in
dreamland may span a life of time, the dreamer altogether unconscious
that it is a dream, so may life itself be a shadow, the vision of a
distempered fancy, the illusion of a floating thought."
"Are pain, pleasure, and living, imaginary creations?" I asked
facetiously.
"Is there a madman who does not imagine, as facts, what others agree
upon as hallucinations peculiar to himself? Is it not impossible to
distinguish between different gradations of illusions, and is it not,
therefore, possible that even self-existence is an illusion? What
evidence can any man produce to prove that his idea of life is not a
madman's dream?"
"Proceed," I said.
"At another time, perhaps," he remarked; "we have reached the Inner
Circle, the Sphere of Rest, the line of gravity, and now our bodies have
no weight; at this point we begin to move with decreased speed, we will
soon come to a quiescent condition, a state of rest, and then start back
on our rebound."