"Well," he resumed, after a moment's pause, "I procured the implements
and the coloured blocks for practical experiment, and I followed the
instructions carefully till I had arrived at a working conception of
four-dimensional space. The tessaract, the figure whose boundaries are
cubes, I knew by heart. That is to say, I knew it and saw it mentally,
for my eye, of course, could never take in a new measurement, or my
hands and feet handle it. "So, at least, I thought," he added, making a wry face. "I had reached
the stage, you see, when I could imagine in a new dimension. I was able
to conceive the shape of that new figure which is intrinsically
different to all we know--the shape of the tessaract. I could perceive
in four dimensions. When, therefore, I looked at a cube I could see all
its sides at once. Its top was not foreshortened, nor its farther side
and base invisible. I saw the whole thing out flat, so to speak. And
this tessaract was bounded by cubes! Moreover, I also saw its
content--its insides." "You were not yourself able to enter this new world," interrupted Dr. Silence. "Not then. I was only able to conceive intuitively what it was like and
how exactly it must look. Later, when I slipped in there and saw objects
in their entirety, unlimited by the paucity of our poor three
measurements, I very nearly lost my life. For, you see, space does not
stop at a single new dimension, a fourth. It extends in all possible new
ones, and we must conceive it as containing any number of new
dimensions. In other words, there is no space at all, but only a
spiritual condition. But, meanwhile, I had come to grasp the strange
fact that the objects in our normal world appear to us only partially." Mr. Mudge moved farther forward till he was balanced dangerously on the
very edge of the chair. "From this starting point," he resumed, "I began
my studies and experiments, and continued them for years. I had money,
and I was without friends. I lived in solitude and experimented. My
intellect, of course, had little part in the work, for intellectually it
was all unthinkable. Never was the limitation of mere reason more
plainly demonstrated. It was mystically, intuitively, spiritually that I
began to advance. And what I learnt, and knew, and did is all impossible
to put into language, since it all describes experiences transcending
the experiences of men. It is only some of the results--what you would
call the symptoms of my disease--that I can give you, and even these
must often appear absurd contradictions and impossible paradoxes. "I can only tell you, Dr. Silence"--his manner became exceedingly
impressive--"that I reached sometimes a point of view whence all the
great puzzle of the world became plain to me, and I understood what they
call in the Yoga books 'The Great Heresy of Separateness'; why all great
teachers have urged the necessity of man loving his neighbour as
himself; how men are all really one; and why the utter loss of self is
necessary to salvation and the discovery of the true life of the soul." He paused a moment and drew breath. "Your speculations have been my own long ago," the doctor said quietly. "I fully realise the force of your words. Men are doubtless not separate
at all--in the sense they imagine--"

"All this about the very much Higher Space I only dimly, very dimly,
conceived, of course," the other went on, raising his voice again by
jerks; "but what did happen to me was the humbler accident of--the
simpler disaster--oh, dear, how shall I put it--?" He stammered and showed visible signs of distress. "It was simply this," he resumed with a sudden rush of words, "that,
accidentally, as the result of my years of experiment, I one day slipped
bodily into the next world, the world of four dimensions, yet without
knowing precisely how I got there, or how I could get back again. I
discovered, that is, that my ordinary three-dimensional body was but an
expression--a projection--of my higher four-dimensional body! "Now you understand what I meant much earlier in our talk when I spoke
of chance. I cannot control my entrance or exit. Certain people, certain
human atmospheres, certain wandering forces, thoughts, desires even--the
radiations of certain combinations of colour, and above all, the
vibrations of certain kinds of music, will suddenly throw me into a
state of what I can only describe as an intense and terrific inner
vibration--and behold I am off! Off in the direction at right angles to
all our known directions! Off in the direction the cube takes when it
begins to trace the outlines of the new figure! Off into my breathless
and semi-divine Higher Space! Off, _inside myself_, into the world of
four dimensions!" He gasped and dropped back into the depths of the immovable chair. "And there," he whispered, his voice issuing from among the cushions,
"there I have to stay until these vibrations subside, or until they do
something which I cannot find words to describe properly or intelligibly
to you--and then, behold, I am back again. First, that is, I disappear. Then I reappear." "Just so," exclaimed Dr. Silence, "and that is why a few--"

"Why a few moments ago," interrupted Mr. Mudge, taking the words out of
his mouth, "you found me gone, and then saw me return. The music of that
wretched German band sent me off. Your intense thinking about me brought
me back--when the band had stopped its Wagner. I saw you approach the
peep-hole and I saw Barker's intention of doing so later. For me no
interiors are hidden. I see inside. When in that state the content of
your mind, as of your body, is open to me as the day. Oh, dear, oh,
dear, oh, dear!" Mr. Mudge stopped and again mopped his brow. A light trembling ran over
the surface of his small body like wind over grass. He still held
tightly to the arms of the chair. "At first," he presently resumed, "my new experiences were so vividly
interesting that I felt no alarm. There was no room for it. The alarm
came a little later." "Then you actually penetrated far enough into that state to experience
yourself as a normal portion of it?" asked the doctor, leaning forward,
deeply interested. Mr. Mudge nodded a perspiring face in reply. "I did," he whispered, "undoubtedly I did. I am coming to all that. It
began first at night, when I realised that sleep brought no loss of
consciousness--"

"The spirit, of course, can never sleep. Only the body becomes
unconscious," interposed John Silence. "Yes, we know that--theoretically. At night, of course, the spirit is
active elsewhere, and we have no memory of where and how, simply
because the brain stays behind and receives no record. But I found
that, while remaining conscious, I also retained memory. I had attained
to the state of continuous consciousness, for at night I regularly, with
the first approaches of drowsiness, entered _nolens volens_ the
four-dimensional world.