CHAPTER XLVI.
THE INNER CIRCLE, OR THE END OF GRAVITATION.--IN THE BOTTOMLESS GULF.
I recall a whirling sensation, and an involuntary attempt atself-preservation, in which I threw my arms wildly about with a vainendeavor to clutch some form of solid body, which movement naturallyended by a tight clasping of my guide in my arms, and locked together wecontinued to speed down into the seven thousand miles of vacancy.Instinctively I murmured a prayer of supplication, and awaited theapproaching hereafter, which, as I believed, would quickly witness theextinction of my unhappy life, the end of my material existence; but themoments (if time can be so divided when no sun marks the division)multiplied without bodily shock or physical pain of any description; Iretained 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 haveno fear, for you are not in corporal danger, and can relax your grasp onmy person."
I cautiously obeyed him, misgivingly, and slowly loosened my hold, thengazed about to find that we were in a sea of light, and that only lightwas visible, that form of light which I have before said is an entitywithout source of radiation. In one direction, however, a great graycloud hung suspended and gloomy, dark in the center, and shadingtherefrom in a circle, to disappear entirely at an angle of aboutforty-five degrees.
"This is the earth-shelf from which we sprung," said the guide; "it willsoon disappear."
Wherever I glanced this radiant exhalation, a peaceful, luminousenvelope, this rich, soft, beautiful white light appeared. The power ofbodily 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 beintact. Finally I became impressed with the idea that I must be atperfect rest, but if so what could be the nature of the substance, ormaterial, upon which I was resting so complacently? No; this could notbe true. Then I thought: "I have been instantly killed by a painlessshock, and my spirit is in heaven;" but my earthly body and coarse,ragged garments were palpable realities; the sense of touch, sight, andhearing surely were normal, and a consideration of these facts dispelledmy first conception.
"Where are we now?"
"Moving into earth's central space."
"I comprehend that a rushing wind surrounds us which is notuncomfortable, but otherwise I experience no unusual sensation, and cannot realize but that I am at rest."
"The sensation, as of a blowing wind, is in consequence of our rapidmotion, and results from the friction between our bodies and thequiescent, attenuated atmosphere which exists even here, but thisatmosphere becomes less and less in amount until it will disappearaltogether at a short distance below us. Soon we will be in a perfectcalm, and although moving rapidly, to all appearances will be atabsolute rest."
Naturally, perhaps, my mind attempted, as it so often had done, to urgeobjections to his statements, and at first it occurred to me that I didnot experience the peculiar sinking away sensation in the chest that Iremembered follows, on earth, the downward motion of a person fallingfrom a great height, or moving rapidly in a swing, and I questioned himon the absence of that phenomenon.
"The explanation is simple," he said; "on the surface of the earth asudden motion, either upward or downward, disturbs the equilibrium ofthe organs of respiration, and of the heart, and interferes with thecirculation of the blood. This produces a change in blood pressurewithin the brain, and the 'sinking' sensation in the chest, or thedizziness of the head of a person moving rapidly, or it may even resultin unconsciousness, and complete suspension of respiration, effectswhich sometimes follow rapid movements, as in a person falling from aconsiderable height. Here circumstances are entirely different. Theheart is quiet, the lungs in a comatose condition, and the bloodstagnant. Mental sensations, therefore, that result from a disturbedcondition of these organs are wanting, and, although we are experiencingrapid motion, we are in the full possession of our physical selves, andmaintain our mental faculties unimpaired."
Again I interposed an objection:
"If, as you say, we are really passing through an attenuated atmospherewith increasing velocity, according to the law that governs fallingbodies that are acted upon by gravity which continually acceleratestheir motion, the friction between ourselves and the air will ultimatelybecome so intense as to wear away our bodies."
"Upon the contrary," said he, "this attenuated atmosphere is decreasingin density more rapidly than our velocity increases, and before long itwill have altogether disappeared. You can perceive that the wind, as youcall it, is blowing less violently than formerly; soon it will entirelycease, as I have already predicted, and at that period, regardless ofour motion, we will appear to be stationary."
Pondering over the final result of this strange experience I becameagain alarmed, for accepting the facts to be as he stated, such motionwould ultimately carry us against the opposite crust of the earth, andwithout a doubt the shock would end our existence. I inquired aboutthis, to me, self-evident fact, and he replied:
"Long before we reach the opposite crust of the earth, our motion willbe arrested."
I had begun now to feel a self-confidence that is surprising as I recallthat remarkable position in connection with my narrow experience in truescience, and can say that instead of despondency, I really enjoyed anelated sensation, a curious exhilaration, a feeling of delight, which Ihave no words to describe. Life disturbances and mental worry seemed tohave completely vanished, and it appeared as if, with mental perceptionlucid, I were under the influence of a powerful soporific; the cares ofmortals had disappeared. After a while the wind ceased to blow, as myguide had predicted, and with the suspension of that factor, all thatremained to remind me of earth phenomena had vanished. There was nomotion of material, nothing to mar or disturb the most perfect peaceimaginable; I was so exquisitely happy that I now actually feared somechange might occur to interrupt that quiescent existence. It was as adeep, sweet sleep in which, with faculties alive, unconsciousness wasself-conscious, peaceful, restful, blissful. I listlessly turned myeyes, searching space in all directions--to meet vacancy everywhere,absolute vacancy. I took from my pocket (into which I had hastily thrustit) the bar of iron, and released it; the metal remained motionlessbeside me.
"Traveling through this expanse with the rapidity of ourselves," said myguide.
I closed my eyes and endeavored to convince myself that I wasdreaming--vainly, however. I opened my eyes, and endeavored to convincemyself that I was moving, equally in vain. I became oblivious toeverything save the delicious sensation of absolute rest that envelopedand pervaded my being.
"I am neither alive nor dead," I murmured; "neither asleep nor awake;neither moving nor at rest, and neither standing, reclining, norsitting. If I exist I can not bring evidence to prove that fact, neithercan 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-evidentfact."
"Know then," said he, "that existence is a theory, and that man isincapable of demonstrating that he has a being. All evidences of mortallife are only as the phantasms of hallucination. As a moment indreamland may span a life of time, the dreamer altogether unconsciousthat it is a dream, so may life itself be a shadow, the vision of adistempered fancy, the illusion of a floating thought."
"Are pain, pleasure, and living, imaginary creations?" I askedfacetiously.
"Is there a madman who does not imagine, as facts, what others agreeupon as hallucinations peculiar to himself? Is it not impossible todistinguish between different gradations of illusions, and is it not,therefore, possible that even self-existence is an illusion? Whatevidence can any man produce to prove that his idea of life is not amadman's dream?"
"Proceed," I said.
"At another time, perhaps," he remarked; "we have reached the InnerCircle, the Sphere of Rest, th
e line of gravity, and now our bodies haveno weight; at this point we begin to move with decreased speed, we willsoon come to a quiescent condition, a state of rest, and then start backon our rebound."