Part 3 (1/2)
FORETHOUGHT.
”Post fata resurgo.”
”What is forethought may sleep--'tis very plain, But rest a.s.sured that it will rise again.”
”Forethought is plan inspired by an absolute Will to carry it out.”
It may have struck the reader as an almost awful, or as a very wonderful idea, that man has within himself, if he did but know it, tremendous powers or transcendental faculties of which he has really never had any conception. One reason why such bold thought has been subdued is that he has always felt according to tradition, the existence of superior supernatural (and with them patrician) beings, by whose power and patronage he has been effectively restrained or kept under. Hence gloom and pessimism, doubt and despair. It may seem a bold thing to say that it did not occur to any philosopher through the ages that man, resolute and n.o.ble and free, might _will_ himself into a stage of mind defying devils and phantasms, or that amid the infinite possibilities of human nature there was the faculty of a.s.suming the Indifference habitual to all animals when not alarmed.
But he who will consider these studies on Self-Hypnotism may possibly infer from them that we have indeed within us a marvelous power of creating states of mind which make the idea of Pessimism ridiculous.
For it renders potent and grand, pleasing or practically useful, to all who practice it, a faculty which has the great advantage that it may enter into all the relations or acts of life; will give to everyone something to do, something to occupy his mind, even in itself, and if we have other occupations, Forethought and Induced Will may be made to increase our interest in them and stimulate our skill.
In other words, we can by means of this Art increase our ability to practice all arts, and enhance or stimulate Genius in every way or form, be it practical, musical or plastic.
Since I began this work there fell into my hands an ingenious and curious book, ent.i.tled ”Happiness as found in _Forethought minus Fearthought_,” by HORACE FLETCHER, in which the author very truly declares that _Fear_ in some form has become the arch enemy of Man, and through the fears of our progenitors developed by a thousand causes, we have inherited a growing stock of diseases, terrors, apprehensions, pessimisms, and the like, in which he is perfectly right.
But as Mr. FLETCHER declares, if men could take _Forethought_ as their principle and guide they would obviate, antic.i.p.ate or foresee and provide for so many evil contingencies and chances that we might secure even peace and happiness, and then man may become brave and genial, altruistic and earnest, in spite of it all, by _willing_ away his Timidity.
I have not a.s.sumed a high philosophical or metaphysical position in this work; my efforts have been confined to indicating how by a very simple and well-nigh mechanical process, perfectly intelligible to every human being with an intellect, one may induce certain states of mind and thereby create a Will. But I quite agree with Mr. FLETCHER that Forethought is strong thought, and the point from which all projects must proceed. As I understand it, it is a kind of impulse or projection of will into the coming work. I may here ill.u.s.trate this with a curious fact in physics. If the reader wished to ring a door-bell so as to produce as much sound as possible he would probably pull it as far back as he could and then let it go. But if he would in letting it go simply give it a tap with his forefinger he would actually redouble the noise.
Or, to shoot an arrow as far as possible, it is not enough to merely draw the bow to its utmost span or tension. If just as it goes you will give the bow a quick _push_, though the effort be trifling, the arrow will fly almost as far again as it would have done without it.
Or, if, as is well known, in wielding a very sharp saber, we make the _draw-cut_, that is if we add to the blow or chop, as with an axe, a certain slight pull and simultaneously, we can cut through a silk handkerchief or a sheep.
Forethought is the tap on the bell, the push of the bow, the draw on the saber. It is the deliberate yet rapid action of the mind when before falling to sleep or dismissing thought we _bid_ the mind to subsequently respond. It is more than merely thinking what we are to do; it is the bidding or ordering self to fulfill a task before willing it.
Forethought in the senses employed or implied as here described means much more than mere previous consideration or reflection, which may be very feeble. It is, in fact, ”constructive,” which, as inventive, implies _active_ thought. ”Forethought stimulates, aids the success of honest aims.” Therefore, as the active principle in mental work, I regard it as a kind of self-impulse, or that minor part in the division of the force employed which sets the major into action. Now, if we really understand this and can succeed in employing Forethought as the preparation for, and impulse to, Self-Suggestion, we shall greatly aid the success of the latter, because the former insures attention and interest. Forethought may be brief, but it should always be energetic. By cultivating it we acquire the enviable talent of those men who take in everything at a glance, and act promptly, like a NAPOLEON. This power is universally believed to be entirely innate or a gift; but it can be induced or developed in all minds in proportion to the will by practice.
Be it observed that as the experimenter progresses in the development of will by suggestion, he can gradually lay aside the latter, or all _processes_, especially if he work to such an end, antic.i.p.ating it.
Then he simply acts by clear will and strength, and Forethought const.i.tutes all his stock-in-trade, process or aid. He preconceives and wills energetically at once, and by practice and repet.i.tion _Forethought_ becomes a marvelous help on all occasions and emergencies.
To make it of avail the one who frequently practices self-suggestion, at first with, and then without sleep, will inevitably find ere long that to facilitate his work, or to succeed he _must_ first write, as it were, or plan a preface, synopsis, or epitome of his proposed work, to start it and combine with it a resolve or decree that it must be done, the latter being the tap on the bell-k.n.o.b. Now the habit of composing the plan as perfectly, yet as succinctly as possible, daily or nightly, combined with the energetic impulse to send it off, will ere long give the operator a conception of what I mean by Foresight which by description I cannot. And when grown familiar and really mastered its possessor will find that his power to think and act promptly in all the emergencies of life has greatly increased.
Therefore Forethought means a great deal more, as here employed, than seeing in advance, or deliberate prudence--it rather implies, like divination or foreknowledge, sagacity and mental _action_ as well as mere perception. It will inevitably or a.s.suredly grow with the practice of self-suggestion if the latter be devoted to mental improvement, but as it grows it will qualify the operator to lay aside the sleep and suggest to himself directly.
All men of great natural strength of mind, gifted with the will to do and dare, the beings of action and genius, act directly, and are like athletes who lift a tree by the simple exertion of the muscles. He who achieves his aim by self-culture, training, or suggestion, is like one who raises the weight by means of a lever, and if he practice it often enough he may in the end become as strong as the other.
There is a curious and very ill.u.s.trative instance of Forethought in the sense in which I am endeavoring to explain it, given in a novel, the ”Scalp-Hunters,” by MAYNE REID, with whom I was well acquainted in bygone years. Not having the original, I translate from a French version:
”His aim with the rifle is infallible, and it would seem as if the ball obeyed his Will. There must be a kind of _directing principle_ in his mind, independent of strength of nerve and sight. He and one other are the only men in whom I have observed this singular power.”
This means simply the exercise in a second, as it were, of ”the tap on the bell-k.n.o.b,” or the projection of the will into the proposed shot, and which may be applied to any act. Gymnasts, leapers and the like are all familiar with it. It springs from resolute confidence and self-impulse enforced; but it also creates them, and the growth is very great and rapid when the idea is much kept before the mind. In this latter lies most of the problem.
In Humanity, mind, and especially Forethought, or reflection, combined in one effort with will and energy, enters into all acts, though often unsuspected, for it is a kind of unconscious _reflex_ action or cerebration. Thus I once discovered to my astonishment in a gymnasium that the extremely mechanical action of putting up a heavy weight from the ground to the shoulder and from the shoulder to the full reach of the arm above the head, became much easier after a little practice, although my muscles had not grown, nor my strength increased during the time. And I found that whatever the exertion might be there was always some trick or knack, however indescribable, by means of which the man with a brain could surpa.s.s a dolt at _anything_, though the latter were his equal in strength. But it sometimes happens that the trick can be taught and even improved on. And it is in all cases Forethought, even in the lifting of weights or the willing on the morrow to write a poem.
For this truly weird power--since ”the weird sisters” in ”Macbeth”
means only the sisters who _foresee_--is, in fact, the energy which projects itself in some manner, which physiology can as yet only very weakly explain, and even if the explanation _were_ perfect, it would amount in fact to no more than showing the machinery of a watch, when the main object for us is that it should _keep time_, and tell the hour, as well as exhibit the ingenuity of the maker--which thing is very much lost sight of, even by many very great thinkers, misled by the vanity of showing how much they know.
Yes, Foresight or Forethought projects itself in all things, and it is a serious consideration, or one of such immense value, that when really understood, and above all subjected to some practice--such as I have described, and which, as far as I can see, is _necessary_--one can bring it to bear _intelligently_ on all the actions of life, that is to say, to _much_ greater advantage than when we use it ignorantly, just as a genius endowed with strength can do far more with it than an ignoramus. For there is nothing requiring Thought in which it cannot aid us. I have alluded to Poetry. Now this does not mean that a man can become a SHAKESPEARE or Sh.e.l.lEY by means of all the forethought and suggestion in the world, but they will, if well developed and directed, draw out from the mystic depths of mind such talent as he _has_--doubtless in some or all cases more than he has ever shown.
No one can say what is hidden in every memory; it is like the sounding ocean with its buried cities, and treasures and wondrous relics of the olden time. This much we may a.s.sume to know, that every image or idea or impression whichever reached us through any of our senses entered a cell when it was ready for it, where it sleeps or wakes, most images being in the former condition. In fact, every brain is like a monastery of the Middle Ages, or a beehive. But it is built on a gigantic scale, for it is thought that no man, however learned or experienced he might be, ever contrived during all his life to so much as even half fill the cells of his memory. And if any reader should be apprehensive lest it come to pa.s.s with him in this age of unlimited supply of cheap knowledge that he will fill all his cells let him console himself with the reflection that it is supposed that Nature, in such a case, will have a further supply of new cells ready, she never, as yet, having failed in such rough hospitality, though it often leaves much to be desired!
Yes, they are all there--every image of the past, every face which ever smiled on us--the hopes and fears of bygone years--the rustling of gra.s.s and flowers and the roar of the sea--the sound of trumpets in processions grand--the voices of the great and good among mankind--or what you will. Every line ever read in print, every picture and face and house is there. Many an experiment has shown this to be true; also that by mesmerizing or hypnotizing processes the most hidden images or memories can be awakened. In fact, the idea has lost much of its wonder since the time of Coleridge, now that every sound can be recorded, laid away and reproduced, and we are touching closely on an age when all that lies _perdu_ in any mind can or will be set forth visibly, and all that a man has ever _seen_ be shown to the world. For this is no whit more wonderful than that we can convey images or pictures by telegraph, and when I close my eyes and recall or imagine a form it does not seem strange that there might be some process by means of which it might be photographed.