In the same way, the magician will seem to throw the end of a rope up into the air. It travels far up until the end is lost sight of. Then he sends a boy climbing up after it, until he too disappears from sight. Then he causes the whole thing to disappear, and lo! the boy is seen standing among the audience. The boy is real, of course, but he never left the spot—the rest was all an appearance caused by the mind and will of the magician, pictured in the astral as a thought-form. In the same way the magician will seem to cut the boy into bits, and then cause the severed parts to spring together and reassemble themselves. These feats may be varied indefinitely but the principle is ever the same—thought-form projection.
Western visitors have sought to obtain photographs of these feats of the Hindu magicians, but their plates and films invariably show nothing whatever except the old fakir sitting quietly in the centre, with a peculiar expression in his eyes. This is as might be expected, for the picture exists only in the astral, and is perceived only by the awakened astral senses of those present, which have been stimulated into activity by the power of the magician—by sympathetic vibration, to be exact. Moreover, in certain instances it has been found that the vision is confined to a limited area; persons outside of the limit-ring see nothing, and those moving nearer to the magician lose sight of what they had previously seen. There are scientific reasons for this last fact, which need not be gone into at this place. The main point I am seeking to bring out is that these wonderful scenes are simply and wholly thought-form pictures in the astral, perceived by the awakened astral vision of those present. This to be sure is wonderful enough—but still no miracle has been worked!
I may mention here that these magicians begin their training from early youth. In addition to certain instruction concerning astral phenomena which is handed down from father to son among them they are set to work practicing “visualization” of things previously perceived. They are set to work upon, say, a rose. They must impress upon their memory the perfect picture of the rose—no easy matter, I may tell you. Then they proceed to more difficult objects, slowly and gradually, along well known principles of memory development. Along with this they practice the art of reproducing that which they remember—projecting it in thought-form state. And so the young magician proceeds, from simple to complex things; from easy to difficult; until, finally, he is pronounced fit to give public exhibitions. All this takes years and years—sometimes the boy grows to be a middle-aged man before he is allowed to publicly exhibit his power. Imagine a Western boy or man being willing to study from early childhood to middle-age before he may hope to be able to show what he has been learning! Verily “the East is East, and the West is West”—the two poles of human activity and expression.