ry few
of us have any clear idea as to what kind of thing a thought is, and the
object of this little book is to help us to conceive this.

There are some serious difficulties in our way, for our conception of
space is limited to three dimensions, and when we attempt to make a
drawing we practically limit ourselves to two. In reality the
presentation even of ordinary three-dimensional objects is seriously
defective, for scarcely a line or angle in our drawing is accurately
shown. If a road crosses the picture, the part in the foreground must be
represented as enormously wider than that in the background, although in
reality the width is unchanged. If a house is to be drawn, the right
angles at its corners must be shown as acute or obtuse as the case may
be, but hardly ever as they actually are. In fact, we draw everything
not as it is but as it appears, and the effort of the artist is by a
skilful arrangement of lines upon a flat surface to convey to the eye an
impression which shall recall that made by a three-dimensional object.

It is possible to do this only because similar objects are already
familiar to those who look at the picture and accept the suggestion
which it conveys. A person who had never seen a tree could form but
little idea of one from even the most skilful painting. If to this
difficulty we add the other and far more serious one of a limitation of
consciousness, and suppose ourselves to be showing the picture to a
being who knew only two dimensions, we see how utterly impossible it
would be to convey to him any adequate impression of such a landscape as
we see. Precisely this difficulty in its most aggravated form stands in
our way, when we try to make a drawing of even a very simple
thought-form. The vast majority of those who look at the picture are
absolutely limited to the consciousness of three dimensions, and
furthermore, have not the slightest conception of that inner world to
which thought-forms belong, with all its splendid light and colour. All
that we can do at the best is to represent a section of the
thought-form; and those whose faculties enable them to see the original
cannot but be disappointed with any reproduction of it. Still, those who
are at present unable to see anything will gain at least a partial
comprehension, and however inadequate it may be it is at least better
than nothing.

All students know that what is called the aura of man is the outer part
of the cloud-like subs