Old W.R. - My Unremembered Self

The incidents upon which my story turns happened in the summer of 1886. I was then living in the northern suburb of one of our large manufacturing towns. For some years’ past my leisure time had been entirely occupied with research in almost every phase of Western occultism; in short, I had little taste for anything but the mystical. I haunted the second-hand bookshops during the day in search of curious literature, and when successful in finding some old worm-eaten tome, more fusty than a charnel house, my homeward footsteps after the day’s work were swift and airy as those of Mercury when acting as special messenger to the gods in convention assembled !

Needless to say I burned the candle pretty evenly at both ends, frequently retiring to bed in the morning twilight with my mind full of thoughts and my brain still at high pressure on the track of some clue to the problem in hand. Under the abstracting influence of this fascinating study I rapidly developed a phase of absence of mind which ran very close at times to hallucination of an interesting character. On one occasion, the servant being absent from the house, I had been asked to go into one of the cellars and draw some ale from a barrel for the use of a brother whom Paul might, in a lenient mood, have counted among the “men of years” to whom strong drink was allowed. I took a key from a basket, and proceeded with jug and candle in hand to the cellar. Placing the candle on the barrel so that it gave me the light I needed, I drew a generous jugful and returned to the room where supper was already in process, placed the jug upon the table, and put the key into the basket upon the sideboard. I took my place at the table in the midst of a profound silence, and following the eyes of all those present I saw to my amazement the key-basket in the middle of the table quietly discharging from its meshes what was undeniably “table-beer”! Amid much laughter from my friends, excited no doubt by my own evident astonishment, I arose in confusion of mind to prove that a trick had been somehow played upon me, but on looking at the sideboard I found only a dry jug with a key in it! To this day I do not understand how it was that I saw the jug filling under my very eyes, nor why it did not change into a key-basket sooner than it did. Someone has suggested that it was a case of temporary hallucination, and that I covered the basket with the “thought-form” of the jug which I had in my mind.

114 On another occasion I was undressing for bed, and when half way through the process conceived the idea that I was getting up, and unconsciously commenced dressing, only correcting my impressions of time when I emerged from my room upon the darkness of the house. I then discovered that I been deluded even as to the nature of the light in my room, which, although gaslight, I had been quite willing to regard as daylight when the idea of dressing came to me.

These incidents, which were by no means the only ones of the kind that occurred to me at the time of my narrative, will serve to show that my researches in occultism (?) were in active process, but not as yet completed ! In fact, the more interesting my studies became to me, the more interesting, as a subject of serious study, did I become to those around me! But let me introduce you to my “den”. There it is! A bedroom and study in one you see; the curtain and screen in the centre forming the necessary division which, in a normal case, might have also served to divide the day and the night, the hours of labour from those of rest – but to me it was a mere arbitrary distinction, a line that might easily be overstepped, and often was. In the further half of the room you will see, by drawing aside the screen, my library on the right hand side, and my writing-table on the left; there in the corner is a celestial globe, a planisphere, and other paraphernalia of astral research; by the table is my lamp-stove, at which I make my tea or coffee when the nights are cold, or when I find I want a harmless stimulant. That’s all, I think. Those things? Well, yes, I didn’t intend you to see those, but under the circumstances there's no harm in telling you that they are the identical things which gave me the opportunity of telling the facts which follow.

It was on the night of Wednesday, the 4th of August, 1886, that I sat alone in my room thinking of a hint I had received upon a problem then in my mind night and day, and wondering why I could not get a clue which would enable me to complete what would be proof of conclusions already arrived at by intuition. I was convinced that S – knew all about it, and could have told me; indeed, might have done so, but that my too evident eagerness defeated its own end. I was thinking thus when my younger brother entered the room and said – “Are you disengaged now? I came a few minutes ago and saw you talking to some one, and so I waited till he had gone. Can you tell me what this means?” – handing me a book and marking a passage. I answered him somewhat briefly, and saying that I was busy, wished him good-night, and so he left the room. “Talking to someone,” I repeated; what could he mean? No one had been in my room during the evening to my knowledge! I thought for some time, and then let the matter drop. After all it was comforting to know that I was not the only dreamer in the house, and that if hallucinations were bad things, certainly delusions were not much better! I leaned back in my chair and resumed my thinking, until at last I became feverish and restless.

115 “Thinking, thinking, all day and all night; of what use is it? I have thought in every direction and can find no clue; it is of no use; and yet what is there of any use in a matter like this except thought?” Thus I ran on in my hopeless discontent, and my eyes rested for a moment upon a crystal ball which stood upon a tripod at the back of my table. Something in its form or brightness, or perhaps the happy conjunction of both in perfection, caught my eye, so that I remained watching it with critical appreciation for some moments. A sudden thrill of joyful hope ran through my heart as the thought flashed upon me – “Try the crystal!” I had not used my crystal for some time past, and the idea coming at the extremity of my efforts seemed to open out another and possibly a successful line of investigation. Eagerly I reached down a planetary ephemeris and noted the course of the moon. It was in the 9th House of my nativity, conjoined to the planet Mars and in evil aspect to Saturn and Venus, which were also conjoined. “Bad – very bad”, I thought, “and it does not look much like success; but as the moon is increasing in light, and in the House of visions and in an aerial sign, perhaps out of this collision of contrary forces I may get the lightning flash of truth; who knows? At all events I’ll try.” And so thinking I laid down my book, and setting aside my papers I took up the crystal, dusted it, and set it upon the stand.

The night had advanced, and all in the house had retired to rest. I lit my stove and made some tea, which I drank without milk or sugar, my mind all the while running on the subject of my research. I sat for some time thinking of my forthcoming experiment, and then rose to make the necessary arrangements. I brought out from its corner a stand some three feet high, to which I fixed a circular top, on the black enamelled surface of which were inscribed in gold letters certain names and symbols supposed to be efficacious in the use of the crystal, according to Trithemius and others. On the table thus prepared I set the crystal with its stand, a candle upon either side of it to equalize the light, and then, everything being ready, I noted the time – it was just past midnight – and turned out the gas. It was a curious thought that then occurred to me. There was I, in the latter half of this enlightened century, close upon the very heart of the most prosaic centre of mechanical industry in the world, calmly turning out the gas and practically groping in the superstition of the dark ages in search of truth! One thing at all events was satisfactory; I had never persuaded anyone to follow me, and if I went astray and got lost the fault would be my own, and I was willing to take the consequences.

Seated before the crystal, I continued gazing at it for some minutes. Then it became clouded by a white mist, which slowly disappeared, revealing what appeared to be a clear but starless sky, from which flashed forth now and then small lights like meteors or falling stars. A cool wind was playing over my face and neck and seemed to stir my hair. Suddenly a peculiar sickly sensation came over me; my brain grew hot and throbbed 116 rapidly beneath my temples; a cold shiver ran down my spine; my heart jumped, faltered, and stopped; my sight failed, and nothing but silence and darkness seemed to be, and I was somehow absorbed in them.

Ages seemed to roll by while I, an atom, wedged in between those impenetrable walls, motionless and senseless, waited for something to happen – my anguish of mind was indescribable !

At last thought came to my rescue. Was I dead or alive? I did not know. Where was I? I could not tell. Where did I come from? Stars, meteors, cool breeze, dark sky, white clouds, crystal ball – ah! Nothing more? Crystal ball! Remember that! Crystal ball, crystal ball! I clung to that idea as a child will cling to its mother in the darkness; I followed it as a bloodhound will follow the trail; it was as if my very being lay in that single thought! What was that?! Something was giving way in the darkness! there was a rushing like a terrible cyclone through a mountain forest, and then a mighty crash as if the universe had fallen in upon itself ! Then silence; followed by the soughing of a warm and gentle wind which fanned my cheeks and eyelids. I heard myself moan – a long, low, weary moan, as if a winter wind were belated and lost in a wilderness. Then a pale light seemed to penetrate the darkness, and far, very far away, I could see what appeared like the breaking of the daylight, a few silvery streaks which widened, united and grew till the light became all but brilliant, and in the midst of that broad belt of light I saw the figure of a man apparently in the act of devotion. Then a power seemed to catch me up and carry me, with indescribable swiftness, towards that figure in the light. As I came nearer I saw and felt that the figure was like myself, was myself! and a cry of exultation escaped my lips.

A few minutes sufficed to assure me that I was in my room and seated before the crystal as if no change had ever taken place. The candles, from which I took my first measure of time, clearly showed that I had not been long unconscious; my watch showed seven minutes past midnight. I remembered that I had commenced my sitting at midnight and knew that I had spent at least five minutes in gazing at the crystal. Could it be possible that I had passed through an eternity of mental torture in so brief a time? It was so at all events, if the record of two burning candles and that of an honest chronometer could be accepted as evidence! Shaking off the chilly sensation that supervened, I was in the act of rising from my chair when the thought came upon me that my experiment had failed! I had not discovered the clue of which I was in search; indeed, I had temporarily forgotten it, and had moreover suffered unexpected and all but unbearable experiences in the attempt to find it. I resumed my seat with a sense of disappointment and shame, and for a time sat thinking. The more I thought the more my courage returned, and my determination to go forward with the quest grew stronger. Should I try the crystal again, and perhaps suffer further agonies; or should I tax my thought and cling to the idea in my 117 mind until it yielded to my importunity, and revealed what I was in search of? I was deliberating on this point when the door of my room quietly opened wide. I waited, but as no one entered I rose, went to the screen, and drew it aside. All was still, so still that I could hear the chirping of the crickets in the kitchen below stairs on the other side of the house. There was no wind stirring, but what else could open the door thus, even if imperfectly latched? I took a candle and went out into the passage. Everything was quiet, the doors leading from the passage to the bedrooms were all shut. I returned softly, closed the door, and sat the candle on the table, before which I sat down. The events of the night filled my mind, and beneath them lay the thought of a secret as yet unearthed. My brain was abnormally active, and the effort to isolate myself for a fresh spell of thought upon the subject nearest my heart, was again and again obstructed by the sense of a dread darkness and silence which seemed to hang around me like the memory of a nightmare. The walls of my room seemed to press heavily upon me; my breathing grew difficult. I felt that I needed fresh air and space in which to breathe and think and move. I looked at my watch, it was after one o'clock; I decided to go out and walk off the impressions which seemed to gather round me. With this purpose in mind I lapsed into a dreamy half-conscious state and may have remained so for some minutes before recalling my intention, when I immediately rose, and going quietly from the room, descended to the hall, where in the darkness I felt for my hat; then having drawn the bolt and chain of the front door, I passed out, closing the door behind me.

The night was cool and moist and very still, while the far off stars blinked tearfully behind a veil of mist. I walked rapidly. Passing the old church, and the wood, and the open fields, I made my way by a sharp descent to where the river bends to the service of an old mill, and turned at last along a lane to the left which crossed the river by means of a foot-bridge. There I stopped and leaned against a tree whose branches overhung the water. It was a moonless night, and only a faint starlight diffused itself upon the obscure scenery around me. How cool and refreshing it was to stand there after my rapid walk and listen to the sipping of the water at my feet! That river and I seemed to be the only living creatures in the world; and I was the less happy of the two, because the more uncertain and the more lonely. The river knew its course and followed it, whether amid the secluded woods or in the open fields, by quiet farms or through busy towns; by day as by night it flowed without ceasing; and from the hillside where it had its birth, to the place where it joined the commonwealth of waters on their journey to the sea, as brook and stream and river, it stretched its full length along; and it was one, uninterruptedly one, and could be traced from its beginning to its end, and understood. But I? I shivered; perhaps at the thought of my own inscrutability – or perhaps I had cooled too rapidly. I turned to continue my walk, and 118 raising my eyes, saw close before me the figure of a youth. Somehow I was not surprised; I did not start, nor did I wonder even for a moment how or why he was there; but it was evident to me that he wished to speak. I regarded him attentively. He was of my own height, rather tall, and slenderly built. The obscure light made his features somewhat undescernible, though what could be seen of them was attractive rather than otherwise; and his eyes, wherein the uncertain light seemed to find a focus, were bright and penetrating. “What do you want?” I asked: merely for the sake of opening a conversation which, from our respective positions, appeared inevitable.

“Nothing”, he replied, “I have found you”.

“Found me?” I questioned. “Why did you seek for me?”

“You called me,”, was the brief but amazing reply.

“Who are you then?” I asked.

“I am yourself, your unremembered self. I was in sleep when you called me, but I heard you, and have come a long way, a very long way to find you; and now I have found you I am happy, inexpressibly happy, and I will never leave you; oh let me stay with you for ever!” He said this rapidly and leaned forward so that our faces almost touched, and the fire of his eyes seemed to burn into my own. What had I heard? Was I dreaming? I stood for a moment almost stunned, gazing into those eyes whose light seemed to penetrate me through and through. Then the place seemed to whirl round me; I felt myself lifted from my feet and thrown to the ground.

When I regained consciousness, I was lying upon the floor of my room. My body, overspread by a clammy perspiration, was cold and stiff, but with an effort I partially raised myself and looked around me to ascertain my position. I was lying with my head towards the door. The cold twilight was creeping in through the Venetian blind; the candles on the table were still burning, and, as I could see at once, had not been burning long; the chair in which I had sat – it seemed only a moment since – was overturned; the door was shut. I felt dazed and giddy, but with an effort I got up, stumbled to the window and hastily drew up the blind. The hazy morning light filled the room. I looked at my watch and found that it was nearly three o'clock. What had I been doing, and what brought me on the floor, were questions that I asked myself as I picked up the chair and flung myself into it.

Then the memory of all that I had passed through came back to me, one fact after another beating in upon my brain in swift succession; the awful silence and the darkness, and all that agony of mind, followed by the crashing thunder of some mighty devastation; the far-off dawn and the strange aerial flight towards the spectre of myself; the fever of thought and feeling that succeeded; all the details of my passage from the house, and the swift walk through the night air to the lane by the river; the rest 119 beneath the willow, the reverie, and then, the mysterious youth! All passed through my mind with that distinctness which marks the most wakeful impressions and with that consciousness which distinguishes between such impressions and our most vivid dreams. And again those bright eyes seemed to look into mine through the misty light. Involuntarily I leaned forward and blew out the candles. “Yourself, your unremembered self” – I seemed to hear it all again – “and I will never leave you!” A strange weird feeling overcame me; I glanced nervously around. And yet, shall I be understood if I say, I was deliriously happy!

It was quite evident to me that I should have to endure till the morning had advanced some hours, for no one would be astir till then, and I longed to see some human being, something which could move and think and feel as I; an animal, anything that would give me a sense of the world in which I was. But most of all I longed for the broad daylight, and the touch of some hand that was familiar to me; and as I looked out of the window, watching the growing of the day, I planned some excuse for going early to my mother’s room. At last the morning came. I heard the servant descend the stairs, and then began to prepare for my morning ablutions. When I was dressed again I went out, and was about to enter my mother’s room, when I heard the servant in the act of opening the front door. An idea occurred to me. I went quickly downstairs and watched her release the chain and draw the bolt. She looked at me curiously as I passed out into the garden-plot before the house; my appearance at that hour was an occurrence without precedent in her experience. When I had stood a minute watching the birds flying about in the soft sunshine, I returned to the house and took the opportunity, while passing through the hall, to note that my hat was in its usual place upon the rail. Just then the servant came to sweep the hall-floor, and I noticed that there were no dirty foot-prints upon it; yet this was not curious perhaps, for certainly if I had unconsciously taken the trouble to bolt and chain the door upon my return, I should at least have wiped my feet, if only as a matter of habit. The further I pursued my enquiries, however, the more certain was I that I had not left the house that night. And yet my walk to the river was no dream; every detail was fresh in my memory, and the daylight only made them more certainly real to my consciousness. Nevertheless it was of all experiences the most mysterious I had ever passed through. I was hopelessly perplexed as to the true nature of the occurrence, and it seemed as if one mystery was only replaced by another. I went to my room and occupied myself till breakfast time in making a memorandum of the events of the night, and when I at length joined the family at the breakfast-table no one remarked anything unusual, nor could they know how dream-like they all appeared to me and yet how glad I was to be thus dreaming. I was glad to find they were ignorant of anything that had happened, and determined to keep the matter secret. I went to my business as usual, but during the 120 day I felt ill, and called upon the doctor, who told me I was suffering from a nervous affection of a peculiar nature, and prescribed entire rest and change of air.

On reaching home I went to my room. The associations which were called to my mind by everything around me were uncanny, and I felt that I could not get any rest there till I had regained health and strength in some degree; so I arranged to sleep in a room on the other side of the house. While preparations were in process for giving me some refreshment, I sat upon the edge of the bed. The declining sun threw its golden light upon the wall before me, and as I sat watching it I remarked that it gave to the simple design of the wall paper a peculiar beauty. I had remained thus for a few moments I suppose, when all at once I felt a strange tingling sensation in the top of my head. It increased and burned intensely. I put up my hand to still the pain. Then, suddenly, it was as if my head had been split open and hot sand poured into it which ran through my whole body and out at my feet. I fell from the bed upon my knees and cried like a child. For two days I suffered from violent hysteria and then hyperæsthesia developed. This affected my sight in a peculiar manner. Everything I looked at was present to my sight in all its detail with microscopic clearness, and the effect upon my system was extremely irritating. But the most extraordinary effect was that during the night-time, when the room was dark, I could see everything clearly as if each object stood in a light of its own which blended with that of things adjacent, so that the room appeared to be filled with a soft bluish phosphorescence. I remained in this state for about a fortnight and then rapidly recovered.

When I look back at that period of my life, it seems at once the most horrible and the most happy; horrible, because of the insecurity which seemed to beset my sense of individual existence, for somehow I seemed to have suffered a division of myself into three separate beings, between which my consciousness wavered; and happy, for as I then felt, and afterwards knew most certainly, I had discovered the secret which I was in search of; “myself, my unremembered self”! But to-day I am wiser because of that experience, and I have found that happiness does not lie in the memory of the past, but in the life which now is, with all its golden possibilities, in our very hands.

Sepharial.

Footnotes