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By Annie Besant & C.W. Leadbeater
THE TWO EFFECTS OF THOUGHT
Each definite thought produces a double effect—a radiating
vibration and a
floating form. The thought itself appears first to
clairvoyant sight as a vibration in the mental body, and this may be
either simple or complex. If the thought itself is absolutely simple,
there is only the one rate of vibration, and only one type of mental
matter will be strongly affected. The mental body is composed of matter
of several degrees of density, which we commonly arrange in classes
according to the sub-planes. Of each of these we have many
sub-divisions, and if we typify these by drawing horizontal lines to
indicate the different degrees of density, there is another arrangement
which we might symbolise by drawing perpendicular lines at right angles
to the others, to denote types which differ in quality as well as in
density. There are thus many varieties of this mental matter, and it is
found that each one of these has its own especial and appropriate rate
of vibration, to which it seems most accustomed, so that it very readily
responds to it, and tends to return to it as soon as possible when it
has been forced away from it by some strong rush of thought or feeling.
When a sudden wave of some emotion sweeps over a man, for example, his
astral body is thrown into violent agitation, and its original colours
are or the time almost obscured by the flush of carmine, of blue, or of
scarlet which corresponds with the rate of vibration of that particular
emotion. This change is only temporary; it passes off in a few seconds,
and the astral body rapidly resumes its usual condition. Yet every such
rush of feeling produces a permanent effect: it always adds a little of
its hue to the normal colouring of the astral body, so that every time
that the man yields himself to a certain emotion it becomes easier for
him to yield himself to it again, because his astral body is getting
into the habit of vibrating at that especial rate.
The majority of human thoughts, however, are by no means simple.
Absolutely pure affection of course exists; but we very often find it
tinged with pride or with selfishness, with jealousy or with animal
passion. This means that at least two separate vibrations appear both in
the mental and astral bodies—frequently more than two. The radiating
vibration, therefore, will be a complex one, and the resultant
thought-form will show several colours instead of only one.
HOW THE VIBRATION ACTS
These radiating vibrations, like all others in nature, become less
powerful in proportion to the distance from their source, though it is
probable that the variation is in proportion to the cube of the distance
instead of to the square, because of the additional dimension involved.
Again, like all other vibrations, these tend to reproduce themselves
whenever opportunity is offered to them; and so whenever they strike
upon another mental body they tend to provoke in it their own rate of
motion. That is—from the point of view of the man whose mental body is
touched by these waves—they tend to produce in his mind thoughts of
the same type as that which had previously arisen in the mind of the
thinker who sent forth the waves. The distance to which such
thought-waves penetrate, and the force and persistency with which they
impinge upon the mental bodies of others, depend upon the strength and
clearness of the original thought. In this way the thinker is in the
same position as the speaker. The voice of the latter sets in motion
waves of sound in the air which radiate from him in all directions, and
convey his message to all those who are within hearing, and the distance
to which his voice can penetrate depends upon its power and upon the
clearness of his enunciation. In just the same way the forceful thought
will carry very much further than the weak and undecided thought; but
clearness and definiteness are of even greater importance than strength.
Again, just as the speaker's voice may fall upon heedless ears where men
are already engaged in business or in pleasure, so may a mighty wave of
thought sweep past without affecting the mind of the man, if he be
already deeply engrossed in some other line of thought.
It should be understood that this radiating vibration conveys the
character of the thought, but not its subject. If a Hindu sits rapt in
devotion to Kṛiṣhṇa, the waves of feeling which pour
forth from him stimulate devotional feeling in all those who come under
their influence, though in the case of the Muhammadan that devotion is
to Allah, while for the Zoroastrian it is to Ahuramazda, or for the
Christian to Jesus. A man thinking keenly upon some high subject pours
out from himself vibrations which tend to stir up thought at a similar
level in others, but they in no way suggest to those others the special
subject of his thought. They naturally act with special vigour upon
those minds already habituated to vibrations of similar character; yet
they have some effect on every mental body upon which they impinge, so
that their tendency is to awaken the power of higher thought in those to
whom it has not yet become a custom. It is thus evident that every man
who thinks along high lines is doing missionary work, even though he may
be entirely unconscious of it.
THE MEANING OF THE COLOURS
The table of colours given in the frontispiece has already been
thoroughly described in the book Man Visible and Invisible, and
the meaning to be attached to them is just the same in the thought-form
as in the body out of which it is evolved. For the sake of those who
have not at hand the full description given in the book just mentioned,
it will be well to state that black means hatred and malice. Red, of all
shades from lurid brick-red to brilliant scarlet, indicates anger;
brutal anger will show as flashes of lurid red from dark brown clouds,
while the anger of "noble indignation" is a vivid scarlet, by
no means unbeautiful, though it gives an unpleasant thrill; a
particularly dark and unpleasant red, almost exactly the colour called
dragon's blood, shows animal passion and sensual desire of various
kinds. Clear brown (almost burnt sienna) shows avarice; hard dull brown-grey
is a sign of selfishness—a colour which is indeed painfully common;
deep heavy grey signifies depression, while a livid pale grey is
associated with fear; grey-green is a signal of deceit, while
brownish-green (usually flecked with points and flashes of scarlet)
betokens jealousy. Green seems always to denote adaptability; in the
lowest case, when mingled with selfishness, this adaptability becomes
deceit; at a later stage, when the colour becomes purer, it means rather
the wish to be all things to all men, even though it may be chiefly for
the sake of becoming popular and bearing a good reputation with them; in
its still higher, more delicate and more luminous aspect, it shows the
divine power of sympathy. Affection expresses itself in all shades of
crimson and rose; a full clear carmine means a strong healthy affection
of normal type; if stained heavily with brown-grey, a selfish and
grasping feeling is indicated, while pure pale rose marks that
absolutely unselfish love which is possible only to high natures; it
passes from the dull crimson of animal love to the most exquisite shades
of delicate rose, like the early flushes of the dawning, as the love
becomes purified from all selfish elements, and flows out in wider and
wider circles of generous impersonal tenderness and compassion to all
who are in need. With a touch of the blue of devotion in it, this may
express a strong realisation of the universal brotherhood of humanity.
Deep orange imports pride or ambition, and the various shades of yellow
denote intellect or intellectual gratification, dull yellow ochre
implying the direction of such faculty to selfish purposes, while clear
gamboge shows a distinctly higher type, and pale luminous primrose
yellow is a sign of the highest and most unselfish use of intellectual
power, the pure reason directed to spiritual ends. The different shades
of blue all indicate religious feeling, and range through all hues from
the dark brown-blue of selfish devotion, or the pallid grey-blue of
fetish-worship tinged with fear, up to the rich deep clear colour of
heartfelt adoration, and the beautiful pale azure of that highest form
which implies self-renunciation and union with the divine; the
devotional thought of an unselfish heart is very lovely in colour, like
the deep blue of a summer sky. Through such clouds of blue will often
shine out golden stars of great brilliancy, darting upwards like a
shower of sparks. A mixture of affection and devotion is manifested by a
tint of violet, and the more delicate shades of this invariably show the
capacity of absorbing and responding to a high and beautiful ideal. The
brilliancy and the depth of the colours are usually a measure of the
strength and the activity of the feeling.

Another consideration which must not be forgotten is the type of
matter in which these forms are generated. If a thought be purely
intellectual and impersonal—for example, if the thinker is attempting
to solve a problem in algebra or geometry—the thought-form and the
wave of vibration will be confined entirely to the mental plane. If,
however, the thought be of a spiritual nature, if it be tinged with love
and aspiration or deep unselfish feeling, it will rise upwards from the
mental plane and will borrow much of the splendour and glory of the
buddhic level. In such a case its influence is exceedingly powerful, and
every such thought is a mighty force for good which cannot but produce a
decided effect upon all mental bodies within reach, if they contain any
quality at all capable of response.
If, on the other hand, the thought has in it something of self or of
personal desire, at once its vibration turns downwards, and it draws
round itself a body of astral matter in addition to its clothing of
mental matter. Such a thought-form is capable of acting upon the astral
bodies of other men as well as their minds, so that it can not only
raise thought within them, but can also stir up their feelings.
THREE CLASSES OF THOUGHT-FORMS
From the point of view of the forms which they produce we may group
thought into three classes:—
1. That which takes the image of the thinker. When a man thinks of
himself as in some distant place, or wishes earnestly to be in that
place, he makes a thought-form in his own image which appears there.
Such a form has not infrequently been seen by others, and has sometimes
been taken for the astral body or apparition of the man himself. In such
a case, either the seer must have enough of clairvoyance for the time to
be able to observe that astral shape, or the thought-form must have
sufficient strength to materialise itself—that is, to draw round
itself temporarily a certain amount of physical matter. The thought
which generates such a form as this must necessarily be a strong one,
and it therefore employs a larger proportion of the matter of the mental
body, so that though the form is small and compressed when it leaves the
thinker, it draws round it a considerable amount of astral matter, and
usually expands to life-size before it appears at its destination.
2. That which takes the image of some material object. When a man
thinks of his friend he forms within his mental body a minute image of
that friend, which often
passes outward and usually floats suspended in
the air before him. In the same way if he thinks of a room, a house, a
landscape, tiny images of these things are formed within the mental body
and afterwards externalised. This is equally true when he is exercising
his imagination; the painter who forms a conception of his future
picture builds it up out of the matter of his mental body, and then
projects it into space in front of him, keeps it before his mind's eye,
and copies it. The novelist in the same way builds images of his
character in mental matter, and by the exercise of his will moves these
puppets from one position or grouping to another, so that the plot of
his story is literally acted out before him. With our curiously inverted
conceptions of reality it is hard for us to understand that these mental
images actually exist, and are so entirely objective that they may
readily be seen by the clairvoyant, and can even be rearranged by some
one other than their creator. Some novelists have been dimly aware of
such a process, and have testified that their characters when once
created developed a will of their own, and insisted on carrying the plot
of the story along lines quite different from those originally intended
by the author. This has actually happened, sometimes because the
thought-forms were ensouled by playful nature-spirits, or more often
because some 'dead' novelist, watching on the astral plane the
development of the plan of his fellow-author, thought that he could
improve upon it, and chose this method of putting forward his
suggestions.
3. That which takes a form entirely its own, expressing its inherent
qualities in the matter which it draws round it. Only thought-forms of
this third class can usefully be illustrated, for to represent those of
the first or second class would be merely to draw portraits or
landscapes. In those types we have the plastic mental or astral matter
moulded in imitation of forms belonging to the physical plane; in this
third group we have a glimpse of the forms natural to the astral or
mental planes. Yet this very fact, which makes them so interesting,
places an insuperable barrier in the way of their accurate reproduction.
Thought-forms of this third class almost invariably manifest
themselves upon the astral plane, as the vast majority of them are
expressions of feeling as well as of thought. Those of which we here
give specimens are almost wholly of that class, except that we take a
few examples of the beautiful thought-forms created in definite
meditation by those who, through long practice, have learnt how to
think.
Thought-forms directed towards individuals produce definitely marked
effects, these effects being either partially reproduced in the aura of
the recipient and so increasing the total result, or repelled from it. A
thought of love and of desire to protect, directed strongly towards some
beloved object, creates a form which goes to the person thought of, and
remains in his aura as a shielding and protecting agent; it will seek
all opportunities to serve, and all opportunities to defend, not by a
conscious and deliberate action, but by a blind following out of the
impulse impressed upon it, and it will strengthen friendly forces that
impinge on the aura and weaken unfriendly ones. Thus may we create and
maintain veritable guardian angels round those we love, and many a
mother's prayer for a distant child thus circles round him, though she
knows not the method by which her "prayer is answered."
In cases in which good or evil thoughts are projected at individuals,
those thoughts, if they are to directly fulfil their mission, must find,
in the aura of the object to whom they are sent, materials capable of
responding sympathetically to their vibrations. Any combination of
matter can only vibrate within certain definite limits, and if the
thought-form be outside all the limits within which the aura is capable
of vibrating, it cannot affect that aura at all. It consequently
rebounds from it, and that with a force proportionate to the energy with
which it impinged upon it. This is why it is said that a pure heart and
mind are the best protectors against any inimical assaults, for such a
pure heart and mind will construct an astral and a mental body of fine
and subtle materials, and these bodies cannot respond to vibrations that
demand coarse and dense matter. If an evil thought, projected with
malefic intent, strikes such a body, it can only rebound from it, and it
is flung back with all its own energy; it then flies backward along the
magnetic line of least resistance, that which it has just traversed, and
strikes its projector; he, having matter in his astral and mental bodies
similar to that of the thought-form he generated, is thrown into
respondent vibrations, and suffers the destructive effects he had
intended to cause to another. Thus "curses [and blessings] come
home to roost." From this arise also the very serious effects of
hating or suspecting a good and highly-advanced man; the thought-forms
sent against him cannot injure him, and they rebound against their
projectors, shattering them mentally, morally, or physically. Several
such instances are well known to members of the Theosophical Society,
having come under their direct observation. So long as any of the
coarser kinds of matter connected with evil and selfish thoughts remain
in a person's body, he is open to attack from those who wish him evil,
but when he has perfectly eliminated these by self-purification his
haters cannot injure him, and he goes on calmly and peacefully amid all
the darts of their malice. But it is bad for those who shoot out such
darts.
Another point that should be mentioned before passing to the
consideration of our illustrations is that every one of the
thought-forms here given is drawn from life. They are not imaginary
forms, prepared as some dreamer thinks that they ought to appear; they
are representations of forms actually observed as thrown off by ordinary
men and women, and either reproduced with all possible care and fidelity
by those who have seen them, or with the help of artists to whom the
seers have described them.
For convenience of comparison thought-forms of a similar kind are
grouped together.
Suggested Further Reading
| Source:
Excepted from the Thought-Forms, by Annie Besant and C.W.
Leadbeater 1905. This text is in public domain and reproduced and
reformatted by Jayaram V for Hinduwebsite.com. While we have made
every effort to reproduce the text correctly we do not accept any
responsibility for any errors or omissions or inaccuracies in the
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reference please check hard copy edition of the book.
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