A New Era of Thought

by Charles Howard Hinton

If we make a similar supposition about our æther along which our earth slides, we may conceive the movements of the particles of matter to be determined, not by attractions or repulsions exerted on one another, but to be set in existence by the alterations in the directions of the grooves of the æther along which they are proceeding.

If the grooves were all parallel, the earth would proceed without any other motion than that of its path in the heavens.

But with an alteration in the direction of the grooves, the particles, instead of proceeding uniformly with the mass of the earth, would begin to move amongst each other. And by a sufficiently complicated arrangement of grooves it may be supposed that all the movements of the forms we see around us are due to interweaving and variously disposed grooves.

Thus the movements, which any body goes through, would depend on the arrangement of the æthereal grooves along which it was passing. As long as the grooves remain grouped together in approximately the same way, it would maintain its existence as the same body; but when the grooves separated, and became involved with the grooves of other objects, this body would cease to exist separately.

Thus the separate existences of the earth might conceivably be due to the disposition of those parts of the æther over which the earth passed. And thus any object would have to be separated into two parts, one the æthereal form, or modification which lasted, the other the material particles which, coming on with blind momentum, were directed into such movements as to produce the actual objects around us.

In this way there would be two parts in any organism, the material part and the æthereal part. There would be the material body, which soon passes and becomes indistinguishable from any other material body, and the æthereal body which remains.

Now, if we direct our attention to the material body, we see the phenomena of growth, decay, and death, the coming and the passing away of a living being, isolated during his existence, absolutely merged at his death into the common storehouse of matter.

But if we regard the æthereal body, we find something different. We find an organism which is not so absolutely separated from the surrounding organisms—an organism which is part of the æther, and which is linked to other æthereal organisms by its very substance—an organism between which and others there exists a unity incapable of being broken, and a common life which is rather marked than revealed by the matter which passes over it. The æthereal body moreover remains permanently when the material body has passed away.

The correspondences between the æthereal body and the life of an organism such as we know, is rather to be found in the emotional region than in the one of outward observation. To the æthereal form, all parts of it are equally one; but part of this form corresponds to the future of the material being, part of it to his past. Thus, care for the future and regard for the past would be the way in which the material being would exhibit the unity of the æthereal body, which is both his past, his present, and his future. That is to say, suppose the æthereal body capable of receiving an injury, an injury in one part of it would correspond to an injury in a man’s past; an injury in another part,—that which the material body was traversing,—would correspond to an injury to the man at the present moment; injury to the æthereal body at another part, would correspond to injury coming to the man at some future time. And the self-preservation of the æthereal body, supposing it to have such a motive, would in the last case be the motive of regarding his own future to the man. And inasmuch as the man felt the real unity of his æthereal body, and did not confine his attention to his material body, which is absolutely disunited at every moment from its future and its past—inasmuch as he apprehended his æthereal unity, insomuch would he care for his future welfare, and consider it as equal in importance to his present comfort. The correspondence between emotion and physical fact would be, that the emotion of regard corresponded to an undiscerned æthereal unity. And then also, just as the two tips of two fingers put down on a plane, would seem to a plane-being to be two completely different bodies, not connected together, so one and the same æthereal body might appear as two distinct material bodies, and any regard between the two would correspond to an apprehension of their æthereal unity. In the supposition of an æthereal body, it is not necessary to keep to the idea of the rigidity and permanence of the grooves defining the motion of the matter which, passing along, exhibits the material body. The æthereal body may have a life of its own, relations with other æthereal bodies, and a life as full of vicissitudes as that of the material body, which in its total orbit expresses in the movements of matter one phase in the life of the æthereal body.

But there are certain obvious considerations which prevent any serious dwelling on these speculations—they are only introduced here in order to show how the conception of higher space lends itself to the representation of certain indefinite apprehensions,—such as that of the essential unity of the race,—and affords a possible clue to correspondences between the emotional and the physical life.