THE TRAVEL DIARY
OF A PHILOSOPHER
IN T W O VOLUMES
*
Volume
2
THE
TRAVEL DIARY
OF A
PHILOSOPHER
+
BY
COUNT HERMANN KEYSERLINQ
TRANTSkATBD BV
J, H O 3L R O Y I> RBBCB
cue
VOLUME TWO
NEW YORK
HARCOURT, BRACE 6r COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1925, BY
HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY, INC,
FIRST PRINTING,
MtlNTID IN THK U. 0. A. BY
THK QUINN ft BOOEN COMPANY
AAHWAY, N. J.
CONTENTS
PART FOUR
<To the Far Sast
BAY OF BENGAL 9
RANGOON I I
PENANO 1 5
SINGAPORE 17
HONG-KONG 2O
PART FIVE
Qhina
CANTON 2<
MACAU 42
TSING-TAU 5 1
THROU<;n SHANTUNG 67
TSI NAN FU 7O
PEKIN 73
HANKOW 121
THE YANG-TSE 124
SHANGHAI 132
PART SIX
Japan
YAMATO 143
KOYA-SAN 150
NARA 164
KYOTO 174
ISE 2O5
MYANOSHITA 209
NIKKO 212
TOKYO 214
CONTENTS
PART SEVEN
the 5\O<oy World
THE PACIFIC 237
HONOLULU 244
THE KILAUEA CRATER 247
LAVA FIELDS 249
THE CRATER 252
BAY OF WAIKIKI 255
TOWARDS AMERICA 259
PART EIGHT
SAN FRANCISCO 279
YOSEMITE VALLEY 2 8 I
THE MARJPOSA CROVE 287
THE GRAND CANON 290
CALIFORNIA 294
YELLOWSTONE PARK 296
SALT LAKE CITY 3IU
EASTWARD 3 I 8
CHICAGO 33 I
NEW YORK 337
PART NINE
Home
RAYKULL
Index 373
PART FOUR: TO THE FAR EAST
32
IN THE BAY OF BENGAL
AFTER I had only ministered to the mind for many months,
my body, impatient of this state of things, resorted to the
extremest measures for coming by its due: I was taken seriously
ill; I spent the last weeks in India on a bed of sickness. In its
way it was no uninteresting period. It is a peculiar experience
to feel oneself less as an acting personality, but rather as a
scene of action; as the arena in which microbes fight their
battles. Besides, one experiences in times of physical debility,
psychic transpositions which, as a change, are not unwelcome
to me. Traits of my being come into evidence when I am ill
which as a rule remain hidden; the feminine aspect gains
supremacy, with the result that the world appears in a different,
more personal and more friendly light. During such times I
am without will, without wishes, and I think of my habitual
efforts, which express themselves often so violently, with that
gentle, amiable sympathy with which women watch man's
unreasonable ambition.
For the time being I am convalescent} this is a condition.
which always affords me the keenest enjoyment As a rule, I
feel my body as something extraneous, given to the mind as
some inalienable matter, without inner connection with myself.
But now my mind is completely passive, while the regenerating
physical forces are all the more busily at work; and conscious-
ness, now being centred in the body, enjoys the blissful feeling
of uninterrupted productiveness.
The small child's sense of happiness may be of this kind.
Grown-up individuals know conditions of a similar degree of
comfort only during times of physical weakness; the less so,
the more they belong to the intellectual type. The theoreti-
cally normal psycho-physical equilibrium, in which the centre of
consciousness resides midway between the physical and the
psychical, so that both seem real in the same sense and degree,
is not and cannot be a normal condition for people like our-
selves. No matter how different the dimensions are to which
9
io TO THE FAR EAST PART iv
our physical and mental life belongs it is one energy which
is expended in both spheres, and where one of them is called
upon to meet the highest requirements, the other must necessa-
rily suffer proportionate neglect. It would appear us if Eng-
lishmen possessed the secret of combining both achievements,
they who are always sportsmen as well as brainworkers. As
a matter of fact, it is just they who prove the impossibility of
such a union. Their intellectual level, as far as profundity
is concerned, is, almost without exception, lower than that of
the Germans, for the very reason that their Calocagathia robs
their soul of a portion of its contingent potency.
Yes, it does one good to lead a merely bodily existence for a
while, to do nothing and to let oneself have things done to one.
Such periods signify, moreover, natural reaction to times of
intensified mental activity. The Yogis, it is true, assert that
one should never relax: a single day during which one's aim
is lost out of sight carries one back to a position which one has
regarded as already overcome. Undoubtedly they arc right in
so far as the intention is to traverse finally into other worlds.
The man, who, on the other hand, does not mean to lose his
normal abilities, but would rather train and enhance the effi-
ciency of their functions, has every cause to be careful of too
much Yoga: for the violation of natural processes can result in
lasting paralysis. The Indians would not be so unproductive
if they were worse Yogis, for they are not lacking in talent j the
constant fixing of the mind bereaves it of its spontaneity; it no
longer works of its own accord. The very nature of produc-
tion, however, consists in discharging, from time to time, the
creations which the mind has matured in silent rumination,
For this reason, the man who here below wishes to achieve any*
thing dares not force nature, whose normal courses proceed only
in the form of the spiral. The alternation between various
modes of consciousness, the rhythmic change of interests, is
necessary and beneficial in the same sense as the alternation
between waking and sleeping. I have learnt long ago not to
suffer from periods of depression, and not to feel uneasy during
spells of mental inertia: 1 know that temporary stupefaction is,
CHAP. 33 RANGOON n
in the strictest sense, the preparatory condition of ensuing
enlightenment*
33
RANGOON
How admirably the laws of compensation work in this world!
on leaving a country, weary with its impressions, one
always suspects one's power of receptivity to be exhausted ;
and yet, as soon as one betakes oneself to other climes, one
is sure to be surprised by the welcome experience of having
remained as impressionable as before for the new impressions
require different organs from those which one had any oppor-
tunity for using before. In this way Burma is the almost
mathematically exact complement of India, life being lived
here entirely through the senses. India is beautiful, magnifi-
cent in parts, yet no typical Brahmin would subscribe to
Theophile Gautier's confession: Je sttis dr ceux pour lesgufls
le tntmdr vh\hl& exist?; for him the Visible is Maya, mere
semblance, or at any rate not worth seeing. His overwhelming
propensity for the superscnsual that inspires his soul has paled
nature into a play of shadows for him. Little or nothing does
he know of the individual purport and pregnancy of the hills,
nothing of the primeval forest, nothing of the sea; he may, at
most, be cognisant of gardens when under the spell of sultry
dreams. And where Nature is overpowering to such a degree
that he cannot evade her impressions, he transposes her mean-
ing into transcendentalism, and in this process the peculiar
meaning of appearance vanishes once more. Such an attitude
is incompatible with normal humanity; it is fraught with pen-
alties for such as are not marked out to be supcrsensual (in
opposition to those who have a divine right to look beyond
the sensuous), in so far as they not only appear, but are more
obtuse than otherwise less gifted people; since they refuse to
look upon the sensuous, while unable to cope with the trans-
cendental they behold nothing at all- If a man has acquired
this attitude temporarily, he is affected by it in the long ma
12 TO THE FAR EAST PART iv
as by a nightmare. Not very receptive souls may possibly
remain unimpressed by India's psychic atmosphere: the scenery
works upon them directly 5 they see the things in front of them
as though thousands of years of thought had not transfigured
the world. I, for one, felt the presence of spiritual entities
unceasingly. I also was incapable of seeing Nature in India
otherwise than as Mayaj I felt as though I was trespassing
when by chance I took her at her word. Thus, it strikes me
as a happy release that I find myself to-day in a world which
lives altogether for and through the senses.
This applies to Burma to an extraordinary degree, more so
than to France or Italy, more even than to ancient Greece,
whose atmosphere still hovers over her ruins. In Europe
spirit is intellectually too powerful. The Greeks never ceased
dreaming of Eternal Beauty, and ever since the whole of West-
ern art has followed in the footsteps of this ideal if only in
the sense that the crudest nature is being glorified as an ideal.
Thus, French sensuousness is, at bottom, metaphysics, for it
is entirely based upon mental premises. Deprive the French-
man of his imagination, and you will see his characteristic
eroticism disappear. In Burma there is no kind of mental
background whatsoever* Buddhism, which might indeed have
created such a background, has in fact only built up a neutral
frame within which the senses live their own naive life.
The keynote of Burma is the Burmese woman, the uncon-
sciously self-conscious girl. Her charm sways the whole of
the life of the people. Nature herself wears her colours, she
is the fostering genius of art. When I gaze upon the wilful
curves of the temples and pagodas, the dainty wood-carvings,
the glittering pillars, my thoughts instinctively revert to the
maidens who move laughingly beneath and among them. The
movement that inspires Burmese forms of art is instinct with
the same spirit that teaches the daughters of the country how to
walk, the glass ornaments mirror their smiles, the decorations
reflect their own colours. Even the terrifying dragons and
serpents on the copings and flagstaffs seem to harbour no more
serious intention than that of frightening the exuberant chil-
dren, every now and again, in the midst of their play. In this
CHAP. 33 RANGOON 13
world the girl reigns supreme. The fundamental traits in the
kindly faces of the old men are animated by understanding for
them, and even the monks appear to wear such an austere and
dignified air for the sole purpose of restraining youth, from
forgetting the seriousness of life altogether as it is just the
girls who insist that every hoy, for no matter how short a
period, must have been a real monk (just as in Germany he
must have been a soldier).
Until nightfall I sat in the square facing the Shwee-Bagon-
Pagoda. 1 saw the rays of the sun pass slowly through their
whole range of tints on the gilded roofs, I saw the girls, flowers
in hand, performing their evening devotions, while the old
men, puffing tobacco contentedly, watched the sportiveness of
the young* Two beggars were playing weird tunes in front of
me upon junker-shaped wooden cymbals. Inquisitive crows
meandered around me. Gaily coloured cocks displayed their
unerring feeling for style in their heraldic attitudes. And,
occasionally, a half-starved dog appeared who was so appall-
ingly, so improbably ugly in form and ｅxpression that I could
not help exchanging knowing glances with the wooden dragons
overhead.
When night descended I drove back into the town, A Bur-
mese hoUvSe opened its hospitable door to me. And while the
wrinkled mother was having her comfortable snore, I smoked
and jested with her four daughters, exuberant children of
compelling charm. My tongue was unintelligible to them, nor
was I acquainted with theirs. Still we managed to understand
each other very well with the help of the comprehensively
human language of mirth, whose symbols are innate in every
one.
HOW can one avoid, given an artistic disposition, idealising
the country and the people of Burma? What one sees and
experiences here recalls again and again the myths of the
Golden Age. In those days there were neither cares nor wants j
all men were fond of each other, war and strife were unknown.
Life sped happily on its way, like that of children in the mirror
i 4 TO THE FAR EAST PART xv
of grown-up consciousness. Burmese life seems to speed along
in just the same way.
This condition is due to Buddhism. Its extraordinary forma-
tive power in tropical surroundings appears ever more im-
pressively in Burma than in Ceylon, because here the Church
has far more importance than there, and because the possible
merits of the picture hardly count compared with the frame.
The Burmese as human beings cannot be placed on a high
level in any sense; they are neither profound, nor do they
possess real goodness of heart. These virtues are never devel-
oped in the case of children. Even the monks, however digni-
fied they look, can hardly be regarded as being formed in-
wardly by Buddhism, which can be said of many among the
Bhikshus of Ceylon: they have been formed externally, like
the average Catholic priest. The wisdom of the rules of
Catholic orders is great, but it proves its efficacy only subject
to special, more or less abnormal, conditions. The Buddhistic
canon in its grand simplicity is a form appropriate to almost
every inhabitant of the tropics, and leads him to perfection as
a matter of course.
How poor and puerile are the religious ideas of the Burmese !
Religion means to them, on the one hand, a certain routine of
life, an inherited form of psycho-physical hygiene, and, on the
other, a cheap and easy means of supplying oneself for the
beyond or one's next existence upon earth. It suffices to build
a pagoda, to bequeath a fountain or a rest-house, to share one's
superfluity with the poor, and to participate in the religious
festivals which resemble our merriest fairs, in order to accumu-
late so much *merit' that the future appears assured. This is
precisely the type of religiosity which predominates among the
people in Southern Italy and Spain perhaps the lowest of all
conceivable types. But in making this observation the problem
is not solved. Can one expect a profounder sense of religion
from the superficial souls of children? I should say that one
ought not. They are not sufficiently independent for that. For
them religion can only be an outer frame, whose value depends
on the degree in which it forms them. Now this is exactly
what Buddhism in Burma has been so successful in, that a
CHAP. 34 PENANG 15
condition predominates among these irresponsible children
which is really comparable to that of the Golden Agej given
their inborn nature, they could not possibly be anything more
or better than what they have become thanks to Buddhism.
And this is certainly not due to its outer form in and by itself,
but to the immanent profundity of Buddhism. Its form is the
direct ｅxpression of its contents, and since these are so wonder-
fully true, form has been able to work miracles, even where its
meaning has been misunderstood. For, in questions of practical
life, it is not absolutely essential that a man should be conscious
of the wisdom of the rules he obeys j let them be but wise, and
they will evince their magic power even where they have never
been understood. There is more truth in the ancient belief in
the efficiency of magic formulas than our day cares to admit:
there is virtue in words and phrases, which is communicable
even to those who are incapable of grasping more than the
letter.
The banks of the Irawaddy arc studded with more monu-
ments of piety than those of the Ganges. Pagodas upon pago-
das adorn the slopes, cloister upon cloister, overshadowed by
blossoming trees and encompassed by green gardens, enliven
the sandy plains. Still the Irawaddy is not a holy riven It
lacks a deeper symbolism, its greatness is purely quantitative.
Nor does the gravity of Burmese pilgrims convey an impres-
sion of seriousness greater than that of school-children who,
without thinking of the possibility of getting tired, are deter-
mined to taste all the possible joys of a Sunday excursion to the
full.
34
PENANG
THE vegetation of the Malayan Peninsula impresses me as
though I had never seen the like of it before. I bend an
admiring gaze upon the naive self-assurance of the shoots,
the intelligent pliancy of the creeping and climbing plants, the
insinuatingly tenacious wooing of the foliage for a place in the
16 TO THE FAR EAST PART iv
light: that wondrous tropical vegetative process which in its
stillness yet conveys the impression of greater abundance of
movement than the restlessness of a human crowd. It is true
that by reason of the extreme exposure those shades of
colour and form on which the beauty of a northern forest would
depend are lacking here; it is with difficulty that one succeeds
in disengaging particular forms in the sea of greenery. But
the life of the whole derives a surplus of vitality from this very
circumstance, each separate existence being merged in the
whole. Just as a thousand little rivulets together make a
stream, so tropical nature is borne in upon one's mind as an
indivisible and glorious unit of life. This flora is incredibly
rich, even more luxuriant than that of Ceylon. And it is more
beautiful, too, for here lofty stems again and again cleave the
maze of the jungle, so that the uncontrolled luxuriance of
growth creates an impression similar to that of shading on a
clear contour drawing. It is chiefly the light grey of the rotting
trunks of the jungle giants that enables the eye to survey the
immensity of the green. Here death has, as it were, marked
the division of the bars in an all too intertwined score.
What wondrous magic there is in the world of plants! The
restful, and, as it were, inevitable perfection, the unquestioned
harmony of co-existence, the unconscious beauty of the plants,
their care-free existence in itself, which yields withal a perfect
solution of the problem of life, invariably arouses in me the
feeling of certainty that I too am winning my way towards my
goal. For I myself am deeply rooted in plant life, and there-
fore I can understand itj plant life is the everlasting sub-
structure of the movements of my soul. And the more 1 grow
conscious of this fact, the more secure do I feel. Here these
friendly plants envelop me almost impetuously in the at-
mosphere of their being. They encourage me to think that I
already possess the certainty for which I still search and
struggle blindly, that I have already attained my goal; they
intimate that all is well with the world. How could precisely
the active-minded man fail to see his dearest complement in
plants? Was not the peaceful Sachsenwald the very place
where Prince Bismarck loved to roam? We speak of defiant
CHAP. 35 SINGAPORE 17
oaks, of majestic pines: such descriptions are not substantial.
What is essential for us in plants is just the fact that no word
or concept taken from the active life of man can be applied to
them. But the plant is comparable to women, or, rather, the
life of women bears a resemblance to that of plants* It Is the
same motive which attracts the combative man to the restful
woman, and to the unconcerned plant. Both are manifestations
of that modality of life where the end seems attained at the
very outset. It is what man's restless soul yearns for. It is
for this reason that we men, as long as the decision was in our
hands, always laid particular stress on the vegetative aspect of
women. We do not stand in need of the active, energetic,
busy woman.
This planet must have been a delightful place while plant
life was still paramount upon its surface. Was it necessary for
life to enter at all upon the arduous career of active progress?
No superman will ever go beyond the rose, as far as realisation
of significance is concerned. Why has this cumbersome way
been adopted? This is the question I have so often asked
myself dispiritedly when gazing from the pinnacle of a tower
I had scaled, upon the flat land below. To-day, full of melan-
choly, I put the same question. I know: the ascent is our fate;
I myself would despair if I were to rest. Yet when I recall
the vistas disclosed to my view during the earliest stages, when
I think of the joys which life offered to me then, I cannot
help regretting that I was fated to rise.
35
SINGAPORE
E plant world determines the character of Malayan na~
turcs so much that I fail to he affected by anything elsej
again and again my gaze is captured by the plants.
I have not been absorbed in this form of life since Ceylon,
therefore my interest in it is as new. I realize once more that
for any one who could understand plants perfectly, life would
no longer hold any secrets. And the plants surrender them-
i8 TO THE FAR EAST PART iv
selves so ingenuously to man. No being could be more sincere
than they are, more truthful, more genuine; they perhaps, of
all the world's creatures, represent themselves precisely as they
are. How few men do this unless it be at fleeting moments!
No matter how true they want to be again and again some-
thing inessential, something accidental, steps into the fore-
ground of the picture and the whole, which constitutes the real
being, appears distorted. This applies even to the higher
animals; whereas the plants, these blessed, pure creatures, are
never subject to evil moods, and always mirror the very core
of their being. Even phenomenologically their manifesta-
tions are quite as rich as those of more mobile beings: the
variety of their forms is such that nothing short of a divine
imagination could multiply them. In all probability, the open-
ing up of the psychic sphere, that gave so much additional
scope to man as compared with animals, has not led to any sort
of new formation, whose spirit the plants had not realised upon
their own level. The flora implies, on a definitely localised
plane, not only a perfect ｅxpression of the spiritual, but, more-
over, by far the most perfect which has been found so far.
The highest specimens of mankind, regarded from the angle
of perfection as compared with any flower, seem like abortions.
Thus, the flora does not only raise, but also answers, all the
problems which the human spirit may propound. The con-
templation of plants has once more made me conscious of the
empirical meaning of freedom. What do we call a free act?
A spontaneous event taking place according to strictly pre-
destined laws. The elementary notions contained in the above
definition are illustrated by plant life with wonderful plasticity,
I know nothing less mechanical than the springing-up of a
shoot in the tropics; if anything can be called spontaneous,
then it is such triumphant growth. Still, the laws of nature
are never more directly in evidence than here* I am looking
at one of those strange giant leaves which, as if by wilful inten-
tion, hang on their stem upside down. How taut is their form,
how vibrating with inner life! And yet its nature can be under-
stood, mathematically and physically, without further ado, and
a technician might possibly have designed it. Are we, in
CHAP. 35 S I N G A P O R E 19
practice, freer in any sense at all than the plants? Hardly.
The basis of the empirical concept of freedom is the possibility
of arbitrary action. But the arbitrary man is, in reality, the
most fettered - y no matter how tyrannically he may rule the
world, he is a slave to himself, to his own passions, to the
elements of his own soul, and only differs from plants in so far
as his nature, as such, is more mobile, more fluid. Even the
man who controls himself is not yet truly free, but only he who
is free from himself, whom self-love no longer trammels in
any respect; this, however, means, in the language of mysti-
cism, the man who is perfectly obedient to God, or, expressed
more scientifically, whose personal will is at one with the super-
personal power which appointed his place in the world of
appearances and this again means the man who allows events
to happen to him as the lily does. Plants and men are both
ultimately freej that is to say, the life which animates them
is essentially freedom. Empirical events have the same mean-
ing in both casesj it is a procej^s of self-ｅxpression accord-
ing to laws. It is not an essential difference whether this
happens by means of unconscious impulses, blind instincts,
personal wishes, conscious agreement, or initiative in doing,
which, ultimately, reaches beyond the personal sphere j the
growing of plants, the wilful or sacrificial action of men all
mean the same thing. Were the plant to raise the question
of liberty, its answer would not differ from our own*
I would have discovered the meaning of the instinct of im-
mortality with less trouble if, instead of analysing my own feel-
ings, I had looked deeply into all this greenery. All concrete
ideas of immortality are excrescences of the root-consciousness
that personality is no ultimate entity, that the meaning of life is
more profound- This truth is demonstrated ad oculos by the
flora* The plants know nothing of individuality, they are only
exceptionally aware of death. The emphasis even in the most
specialised single existence rests on what survives death.
And beauty? In the face of plants its meaning jumps to the
eye. Every appearance strikes us as beautiful in which the
existing possibilities find perfect ｅxpression. For this reason
plants are always beautiful when nothing external has inter-
ao TO THE FAR EAST PART iv
fered with their growth. Moreover, they wear a festive gar-
ment when the time of perpetuation draws nigh; then they are
resplendent in the most glorious decoration of bloom. Schol-
ars have endeavoured to explain this by considerations of
utility: how blind intellect is! Beauty is everywhere a purpose
unto itself; it is the ultimate ｅxpression of potentiality. The
whole of creation becomes beautiful during the season of love,
because then infinite, superindividual possibilities manifest
themselves for a while in the individual, because then the spirit
of eternity transfigures what is mortal* In the case of man,
it makes his soul blossom; its gloriousness beautifies, as long-
as the blossom lasts, the plainest face. In the case of plants,
being is exhausted in corporeality, the spirit puts forth cor-
poreal blossoms.
The contemplation of the plant world gives one a key even
to the darkest and most tragic problem: the onc-sidedness of
every direction of development. A being is either a monad or
an element; as a monad it is doomed to death, as an element
it is, though immortal, impersonal. A tree is perfect, either
while in bloom or as a bearer of fruit, either as a towering stem
or the dispenser of shade, either in rapid growth or solidity
of fibre. The tree cannot be everything all at once. The
utmost which is open to its effort is to fulfil many possibilities
of perfection consecutively, in the course of its various periods
of life: to grow rapidly at first, then gain in firmness; to devote
itself first to its blossom, then to its fruit; to shoot upwards
first, then to spread itself. But few are endowed with so rich
an inner life that they can attain perfection in more than one
sense.
36
HONG-KONG
THE scenery of Hong-Kong reminds me of the Riviera; I
have left the tropics behind me* The tension of the at-
mosphere has slackened, the rays of the sun are no longer
oppressive, all transitions have become more soft and gradual
CHAP. 36 HONG-KONG 21
Sundown and sunrise in the tropics disappoint the man who had
high expectations of them: the sun rises up in the morning
from the horizon like a fiery bubble and it is light j at evening
it sinks back into the sea like a heavy drop of molten metal
and it is night; no colour symphony before or afterwards, save
when dense cloud-banks create the refraction of light of moder-
ate zones artificially. These effects cannot compete in strength
of contrast with those of the tropics; but their possibilities are
not rich, and strong contrasts swallow up all shades. Thus 1
feel this evening as I look from the peak upon the expanse of
the Chinese Sea as if new forces had been born in me: I per-
ceive delicacies and shades in colour and form which I missed
altogether a few days ago. And the nature of the Far Kast
induces a process like no other; in it the lines are of a purity,
and the transitions of a neatness, such as are created among
us only by the artist's capacity for abstraction j this nature
has already been stylised by God. Many of the most ex-
quisite peculiarities of Chinese painting are already fore-
shadowed in it. When I first looked out upon the evening
sea, it seemed to me to be overcast by long white strips of mist.
Imagine my surprise when, soon afterwards, I saw islands
swimming above these very strips. No direct vision could have
taught me that these islands were not suspended in the sky;
in the presence of such nature a similar imagination is required
in order to catch the connection of perspective, as in the case
of Far-Eastern painting.
I see it already; in China I will have to transform myself into
a man of vision; here all appearance seethes with significance.
There looms, before my mind's eye, a synthesis of essence
and semblance such as I have never met with before.
PART FIVE: CHINA
37
CANTON
TTNFORTUNATELY, I am beginning my stay in China in un-
U favourable circumstances: the country is in full revolu-
tion* Such periods are often called 'great times/ and many
feed for the rest of their lives on the fact that they 'participated'
in them: for those, however, who look below the surface,
epochs of violent political upheaval arc the least interesting of
all. In the presence of extraordinary external events most men
lose their balance; they live on the surface, which 5$ not nor-
mal for them, or in any way symbolical of their being; their
essential qualities do not appear at all. What do the deeds of
violence of the 7V;vvw, or the July Revolution, mean in
reference to the bourgeois of Paris who committed them?
Nothing* They were the mere actors in an impulse of the
masses. There are, of course, exceptional natures, real storm-
birds, who can only be themselves altogether tit such periods,
and they are then highly interesting; but storm-birds are
more rare than one thinks; in the case of the majority their
behaviour in exceptional circumstances has not the slightest
symbolical significance. Almost every gentleman shows cour-
age in a moment of danger, so does almost every mother when
her children are in peril, and, especially in Germany, almost
every one acquits himself well in the face of the typical dangers
to which he is exposed by profession: the captain when his
vessel is sinking, the general in battle, the burgomaster if a
plague is visited upon his town, etc. only these people are
themselves in no higher degree than in their normal state,
but rather less so or not at all: they act not as individuals but
as representatives; and very often, only too often, these typical
actions imply concealment of their real selves, as in the case
of the rhetoric of delinquents on the scaffold. If Napoleon
attached importance only to the behaviour of his generals in
extremis, this was due to the fact that in his case all decisions
were taken in extremis^ and he was indifferent to the men in
themselves; if he had cared for their real being, he would have
26 CHINA PART v
judged differently. Of course, this real being is not necessarily
expressed within the frame of their daily existence, as Maeter-
linck would have it, for this frame does not ^neccssarily suit
men} only a corresponding frame is in question, but such a
frame cannot be, far definition, an exceptional one. In China
least of all, the land of everlasting peace and order! I cannot
take this revolution seriously, and, unless I am very much
mistaken, no thorough-going Chinese does so in Jrhe sense in
which it would appear a matter of course to Europeans ; I
have the impression that he looks upon it as revolutions ought
to be regarded everywhere: as a crisis of the organism^ The
body does not get over certain stages of evolution without
violence: it becomes ill, feverish, boils upj in this sense, revolu-
tions are sometimes inevitable (although hardly half of those
which appear in recent history belong to this category) j the
French Revolution, for one, corresponded undoubtedly to an
inner necessity, no matter how little pleasing its consequences
have proved themselves to be in general and fur France in
particular; for in no other way could the forms and institutions
of the anclen regime be broken up, which had lived their time
but which were strong precisely owing to their rigidity. Never-
theless, even the most inevitable infantile disease never ranks
with heroic acts. I can hardly suppress a smile when 1 hear the
'acts of the people' glorified, China will not expose itself thus
to ridicule- Nor will she revere Sun Vat-Sen as a hero for any
length of time, which is what would undoubtedly happen in
Europej she will perhaps be grateful to him for what he has
instigated, but for the rest she will not judge him otherwise
than as he is: a good-natured, although not a harmless, the-
oriser.
It is not only in the sense of time, but also in that of space,
that my start in China seems less auspicious than I would have
hoped: in Canton the external side of life is so overwhelming
and so importunate that it seems physically impossible to see
through it The official life, as such, is wholly uninteresting,
because its forms are the ｅxpression, not of the soul, but of the
objective necessities and conveniences of collective life, and
thus hardly vary in significance, not only from people to people,
CHAP. 37 CANTON 27
but even as between men and animals. Much has been written
concerning the strangeness of Chinese institutions: I find them
only too similar to European onesj no matter how different
they may be d$ facto > they differ hardly at all in meaning. In
this vast commercial city, famous for its singularity, I am
hardly aware that I am in strange surroundings. What might
a Chinese metaphysician learn, conversely, in Berlin or Frank-
fort? Little would he feel of the spirit, which, of course, is a
different one there from here, in the turmoil of the town. He
would notice rather less assiduity and work, and very much
more restlessness, and he would probably reach the conclusion
that we Europeans arc people of a precisely similar kind, only
on a lower level of culture.
So as not to return empty-handed, I remove the metaphysi-
cian and substitute for him the pure observer. In briskness of
traffic, Canton beats everything that I have seen; there da
not seem to be any idlers at all. And the uncanny thing is
that all these beasts of burden wear a uniformly cheerful look.
I am beginning to understand why the Chinese so easily appear
inhuman to the European. If one compares men with apes,
one should remember what the specifically grotesque element
of the monkey consists in the contrast between an eye of
human intelligence and an animal face, for which reason every
extremely intelligent and, simultaneously, vivacious eye in a
human face always suggests something monkey-like, even in
the case of a man like Kant. The Cantonese do not make an
animal impression, but they appear inhuman, because one feels
that behind their existence, which, according to our view, is
unworthy of human beings, there lies not coarse nature but
deep culture. Their cheerfulness is a product of culture. . * .
Whence the excessively unsympathetic aspect of this city? I
find it really impossible to gain clear impressions. It cannot
be due to the filth and stench, to which one can object no more
in China than in Italy: they belong to the peculiar character,
and even to the specific charm; in the end I almost came to be
fond of the exhalations of Benares, really painful in them-
selves. Still less can it be due to the specifically Chinese char-
acter, for this seems, on the contrary, to be very sympathetic.
28 CHINA PART v
It is due probably to the extremely commercial atmosphere.
I have never lived for any length of time among business
people of the smaller sort without experiencing a disturbance
of my equilibrium. This consideration, however, does ^not
decide the question either. ... At last I have it: what strikes
me as particularly repulsive in Canton is the soulless machine-
like quality of its life. These beings act in the profoundcst
sense without aim or purpose j they Jack altogether what con-
stitutes the idealism of the business man: acting subject to groat
points of view; they wear themselves out like ants. And when
ants, who are certainly only ants, have highly intelligent faces
and are simultaneously undoubtedly cultured, the result is
disquieting.
It cannot be true, what is asserted so often, that the heart of
China beats in Canton. Canton is no more typical of this
Empire than Marseilles or Naples are of Europe, But to that
extent it probably is typical, and perhaps it is a good thing
that this side of China has been presented to me first and in so
aggressive a form because I would otherwise have overlooked
it in the midst of all the beauty which is before me. Undoubt-
edly the Chinese is closer to the ant than any other human
being; undoubtedly he is below us in this very sense. But here
too is the root of his unintelligible superiority: the enormous
social culture of the lowest strata of the people. There is no
worker among the ants who in culture, in its own sphere, did
not equal the greatest Grand Seigneur.
I am now so much at home here that the negative sensa-
tions which Canton continues to evoke in me hardly disturb
my contemplations any more. Whatever may be said against
it, this town is beautiful. Everything decorative is of a perfec-
tion such as I have never seen elsewhere. The art of the gold-
smith, the ebony and ivory carver whatever belongs to the
arts and crafts is on an incredibly high level j the most sub-
ordinate artisan here seems to possess taste in the highest sense.
And when I then see what poor, dry fellows these marvellous
artisans are, I feel disconcerted every time. Obviously the
whole of this culture no longer means anything at all in
reference to the individual; all accomplishment is based upon
CHAP, 37 CANTON 29
routine. Automatically my thoughts wander back to the distant
times when the present rigid forms were still vibrating with
life. . . . Then, however, 1 ask myself whether forms of per-
fect beauty have ever prevailed before they had detached them-
selves from their meaning? Florence, in the days when Leo-
nardo and Michael Angclo were at work in it, could not have
been nearly as beautiful as in the period of her decadence;
during the time that the form was being created it did not
exist. Thus, the China of to-day is very likely far more in-
teresting to look at than that of the Tang dynasty. . . .
The Chinese, who in their early days were mighty creators,
have apparently lost their inventive powers. It is all the more
significant that they have not degenerated in the sphere of
art any more than in that of life which is what happens nearly
always at times of stagnation in the West; in their case the
following of tradition seems rather to be the biological equiva-
lent of invention. All that could exist in an unformed state
is already crystallised in China, for which reason new creations,
for a time at any rate, have become impossible- If, however,
the same phenomena appear again and again, showing undi-
minished power, then this signifies anything rather than steril-
ity: it is the way of nature, which also keeps, through im-
measurable distances of time, to the same manifestations, before
it decides upon innovations. one must evidently judge the
culture of the Chinese according to geological epochs in order
to do justice to it. Just so their antipathy to innovation will
have to be interpreted: essentially they are certainly not anti-
pathetic to innovation, for in the course of history China has
undergone transformations as great as those of Europe; only
it has been in less of a hurry. And on the whole it is not a
good sign, but a bad one, if some one evinces too much haste*
It can, of course, mean that he has placed his aim so high that
he must not lose a minute if he is to attain to it at all; generally,
however, it only means that he anticipates his end. . . ,
THE unheard-of beauty of form and colour of the streets and
byways of Canton impresses me more and more; the most
30 CHINA PART v
exquisite culture of the senses speaks from all manifestations}
there is hardly a household implement, hardly an arabesque,
which in idea at any rate does not possess artistic value, no
matter how often its execution fails. After sundown in par-
ticular the town has the effect of fairyland, like an immense
symphony in black and gold. All over the city, beautifully
shaped luminous bodies stand out from the black background
of night, and everywhere fiery ideograms shine out into the
darkness.
I could never see enough of them. They are so lovely in
form that Chinese streets delight the eye, thanks to their shop
notices and advertisements alone. How could writing and
painting not be valued equally here? Even in idea, the highest
art is contained in these hieroglyphics; and in order to present
them in the way in which they arc always demanded and in
which they frequently occur, the hand of a real artist is needed.
Connoisseurs often pay as much for a beautiful piece of hand-
writing as for a masterpiece of painting.
I will hardly be making a mistake if I trace the high level of
culture of the Chinese, as far as visible form is concerned, in
large measure to the existence of their system of writing. Not
only do they live from their earliest youth in surroundings
which must develop their sense of form it implies a necessity
of life for them to pay minute attention to form. There is no
Chinese language in the vocal sense j a special dialect is spoken
in every region, which often differs from that of another no
less than English differs from German. All Chinese, however,
employ the same written signs, and can, by their means, com-
municate with each other where they can no longer do so
verbally; how could the writing of characters then not be
studied thoroughly? once this has been done, its further
advantages follow of their own accord. The intrinsic beauty
of the ideogram unconsciously educates their taste, all the more
so as it is regarded as ill-bred not to have a beautiful hand-
writing, and the necessity of differentiating instantaneously a
large number of such ideograms, whose marks often consist
of the tiniest details, sharpens the vision of the eye. The in-
capacity of the educated Chinaman for producing anything
CHAP. 37 CANTON 31
ugly, and the unrivalled standard of the sense for form which
is possessed by the masses in China, are undoubtedly the direct
consequences of the prevalence of this system of writing.
But its advantages are not exhausted by the enumeration of
those which have been mentioned; I admire the system above
all on account of its mental significance. An idea can gener-
ally be expressed within this system only symbolically, not
objectively, or in and by itself 5 the symbolic image of a con-
ceptual relation is painted, and from its connection with a pre-
ceding or succeeding symbol the meaning of what has been
intended is made plain. In such circumstances it is impossible,
first of all, to read without thinking at the same time; hence
the surprising power of combination which even the lowest
Chinaman betrays, who is capable of reading and writing.
Then, of course, much more can be said by means of ideograms
than by means of articulated means of ｅxpression. only people
who have never produced a profound thought assert that we
know how to say exactly what we mean in all circumstances j
the language does not exist which could make this marvel
possible. Every epoch has its specific barriers, from which no
genius can escape, and every language possesses special ones
in and by itself. And that one should ever be invented in
which it would be possible to express everything with absolute
exactitude, seems all the less probable as the tendency of
development lies in the direction of expjidtness, and hence in
the direction of impoverishment; it is not possible to say as
much in French as in German, in modern English one cannot
say as much as in that of the Elizabethan Age- So much is
already true of that which in principle can be explained: but
what about that which goes beyond all possible forms of
ｅxpression, and yet is the most real portion of reality the
objects of metaphysical thought and of the innermost religious
experience? These things simply cannot be rendered in our
languages. But they can be represented in Chinese writing.
It is possible to place symbols of conceptual relations side by
side in such a way that they include, as well as qualify, the in-
finite, just as an open angle defines infinite space. Where one
of the scientes sees these signs in front of him, he knows at
32 CHINA PAKTV
once what is meant, and he experiences, when he did not know
it before, more than the longest explanation could teach him.
To give an instance: the whole of Confucianism can be
represented in three symbols (which are to be read in con-
junction); the first of these means concentrating, making an
effort, the second means the centre, and the third external
harmony. By means of these really everything is expressed
which is contained in the Four Books, and, moreover, that
which is at the bottom of Confucianism in idea, but which its
founder probably did not realise at all. What, in fact, could
a mortal do more than to become perfectly inward by the
extremest tension of the powers of his soul, and to express the
inwardness attained to in the harmony of external appearance.
This is not only the essence of Confucianism, it is more than
Confucius ever guessed, it is the supreme ideal of human
aspiration. Oh, if only I knew how to write Chinese! Gladly
would I then give up all other means of ｅxpression. After all
words have passed away, blessed spirits will still see Truth
before their eyes in fragments of Chinese calligraphy. , . .
The Chinese method of ｅxpression is not objective or exact,
but suggestive, and presupposes a sympathetic hearer or
listener, in the same way as the figurative method of ｅxpression
of women. This is in many ways an inconvenience: not only
because it makes practical arrangements more difficult un-
doubtedly it is less to suggest than to pronounce clearly what
one means 5 our own poets and writers, who aim at suggesting
effects, therefore are not above, but below, our explicit onesj
thus Stephane Mallarme stands below Baudelaire. This dis-
advantage expresses itself particularly in philosophy, whose
intrinsic problem it is to render clear what everybody may
surmise only indistinctly. Accordingly, scientific recognition
can only be represented imperfectly in Chinese writing.
Nevertheless, it would be a mistake to accuse it as one does
Mallarme's of the feminine method of ｅxpression. Kor
ideograms are means of ｅxpression of a different kind from
words or from our writing: they are comparable with mathe-
matical formulas. They may be described as insufficient by the
man who is simple enough to demand that they shall define in
CHAP. 37 CANTON 33
themselves every particular result whose law they determine:
in reality they are more precise than any version of language
could be, and they embrace, moreover, a great deal more be-
sides. That is precisely what is true, in so far as one can read
them, of Chinese formulas expressed in writing. Certainly
they do not determine directly, but they define the possible so
clearly that, in connection with other possibilities, the reality in
question is made absolutely plain. Thus, the Chinese language
of writing for many purposes is not below but above ours,
because, like mathematics, it can express relations directly which
escape all linguistic confines. What ^significance' really stands
alone? A thousand over- and undertones mingle their sounds,
and we must silence them if we want to be clear j Chinese writ-
ing remains univocal, although no overtone appears to be sub-
dued. At the same time, it robs reality of nothing of its colour,
which is the fate of mathematical formulas. All the sayings
of the sages of China are characterised by a certain tendency
towards paradox. This is a matter of course in so far as all
truth must seem paradoxical to the unlearned, and as remote
truths in particular can only be represented in powerful con-
trapuntal opposition but surely the nature of Chinese para-
dox is very strange: it has a humorous touch j I know no ex-
pression of Chinese wisdom which does not make me laugh
heartily in certain moods. Why is this? If I disregard the
national temperament, or if I trace it back to general principles,
I find that in these sayings the colour of harmonious life seems
to be transferred to the cosmos. There are few profounder
things than humour} it is possessed by him who knows how to
give ｅxpression to a profound opposition from the point of
view of a beneficent and serene mind. Thus the hieroglyphic
writing of the Chinese gives a humorous setting to the whole
cosmos 5 thus the mecanique celeste is translated into epigram*
As long as China retains her system of writing there is no
danger that, in one direction at any rate, the spirit will be
killed by the letter: for here significance creates all the facts.
And I do not believe that this system will ever be replaced by
a more modern one, although it may be expected that China,
like Japan, will supply itself, for business purposes, with a
34 CHINA PAKT v
handier system. At any rate, it would be folly to believe that
the substitution of our own writing for the Chinese would in-
volve progress, for that which is thus called progress is not the
victory of mind over matter, but its opposite. What could
signify a greater triumph of matter than that the mind should
be forced to adjust itself entirely to it?
TO-DAY I visited the place where, quite recently, executions
of the most horrifying cruelty took place daily. Quite sud-
denly it has all become a matter of the past: torture has been
abolished, and in all probability for ever. This innovation to
modern European ideas an event of immense importance
seems to have been decided upon and introduced just like any
tariff reform: the members of a committee calculated that
humaneness would pay better in the given circumstances. No
one in China seems to sec anything special in this change in
the method of justice, not even those most nearly concerned,
the delinquents. only the guild of executioners is said to
demur, because their experts have now been put into an un-
happy position.
While I tarried on the scene of so many torments, my
thoughts naturally dwelt upon the meaning of cruelty in kill-
ing, and this led me to the conclusion that, theoretically, it was
very well justified; no worse, at any rate, than the refinements
of the pleasures of love. In both cases it is not a question of a
direct increase of feeling, but of an indirect one: through the
mental images which are related with it. Where death, as is
the case everywhere in the Kast, does not seem terrifying in
itself, it is natural to set the stage as impressively as possible,
so that the execution shall not fail altogether of its deterrent
effect. In every circumstance the meaning of killing by tor-
ture does not centre in the man who suffers it, but in him who
beholds, or could suffer it that is to say, the man who only
imagines it just as even the most horribly tortured indi-
vidual in all probability does not suffer anything like as horribly
as the sympathetic observer imagines. In the case of the actual
sufferer, the absolute greatness of the pain soon kills the
CHAP. 37 CANTON 35
whole of his power of imagination, and with it the possibility
of relating the sensations of the moment with those of the past
and the future, once this has happened, once consciousness
is only filled by the present, then the worst torture can hardly
be felt to be worse than the treatment of a diseased tooth
by a brutal dentist. I have had considerable opportunity
of experimenting in the sphere of painful sensations, and I
have found that hardly bearable pain can, without further ado,
be halved by transferring the centre of one's consciousness
that is to say, by diversion of the attention as such, or by the
exclusion of imaginative processes which enhance the facts; in
addition, there is the further meliorating circumstance that
man accustoms himself even to pain, and is incapable of ex-
periencing it beyond a certain degree: when he does not faint,
he becomes numb. This consideration is confirmed by all
experience which has been made in the case of torture. First
of all, coarse individuals suffer less than delicately organised
ones, simply because their power of imagination is less; then,
martyred Chinese in particular betray incredible calm, because
they see nothing terrible in torture; and finally, undoubtedly
sensitive natures have endured tortures in the Middle Ages
surprisingly well. If torture, therefore, should have its mean-
ing in the delinquents and not in those who watch it or think
of it, then its invention and introduction would have been
based upon a misunderstanding.
This serves to explain the fact that otherwise highly cultured
nations have adhered to cruel methods of execution for so
long; where the theory that punishment is to act above all as
a deterrent is accepted at all and where is it not accepted?
torture seems justified in principle, and it depends rather on
considerations of expediency than on those of humaneness, if
and when torture is abolished. For this reason, there is prob-
ably no great inner difference between us, who took this step
over a hundred years ago, and the Chinese, who followed
our example only last week, and this consideration removes a
great deal of the paradoxical character of the Chinese attitude
to this reform, to which I pointed at the beginning of these
observations. Even in Europe the system rather than the men
36 CHINA PART v
has been humanised. Those who believe in progress do not
know how to differentiate as clearly as might be desired be-
tween these two factors: it is permissible only in the rarest of
cases to draw conclusions from the system to the man who
acts in accordance with it. A judge who ordered the appli-
cation of extraordinary torture in the Middle Ages does not
need to have been a worse man than a humane judge in our
day, whereas, conversely, the humaneness of the latter need
not signify anything in reference to his being; even execution-
ers are not infrequently kindly people. The average man
always regards as fair what he is accustomed toj the man who
first pointed to the inhumanity of torture need not necessarily
have been an angel, but he was certainly a most original person.
Marcus Aurelius felt no hesitation in being present at the
cruel fights in the circuses j in the modern sense even Luther
did not feel humanely; St. Theresa, one of the most glorious
souls who have ever lived, found nothing to object to in the
methods of justice of Philip II and only saw generosity at
work in the war of destruction against the Aztecs, which we
count amongst the mOsSt disgraceful which man has perpe-
trated. one thing, however, is probably correct: all Asiatics,
and among these the Chinese in the first place, lack the capacity
for sympathy remarkably. Even Buddha's ^compassion* was
not sympathy in our sense of the word; it contained no stimu-
lus to helpj no modern Indian, in so far as he is not Western
in spirit, seems to possess that imagination of the heart which
makes a torture of witnessing inactively the suffering of others}
and no Chinese, above all, is capable of sympathy in the Chris-
tian sense. Are we concerned here with physiological differ-
ences? Probably only in so far as self-consciousness in the
East has its centre in the individual less than among us, and
for this reason individual suffering seems, relatively speaking,
indifferent j on the whole, the difference is due to psychic
causes. It depends on the fact that the recognition of the
solidarity of all life, which, as such, they possess in a high
degree, has taken hold of their sensibility less than among us,
that the tat twam asi> not embodied in any commandments,
laws and institutions, inspires the involuntary impulses of their
CHAP. 37 CANTON 37
soul to a lesser degree. By nature .all men are unsympathetic
towards everything which does not concern their person, and
cruelty is especially nearer to men than humaneness. This is
due to the primitive animal instinct of malicious joy at the
sufferings of others, which is the first deduced function of
assent to the fight for existence. Every being lives objectively
at the expense of others; even at the level of a dog's conscious-
ness, this produces subjectively a feeling of heightened vitality,
where others are worse off than one is oneself j the step from
here to intentional torture is not far. For this reason, atrocities
are committed on the part of humane people regularly as often
as the brute gains the upper hand in them in war. Will the
tendency to cruelty ever be overcome? I do not venture to
prognosticate. Of all Europeans only the Englishman is
habitually so advanced that he experiences natural disgust in
causing others to suffer, or in watching them suffering but
even in his case, this is only true where circumstances are favour-
able to his nerves 5 even he becomes brutal in tropical Africa.
on the whole, the tendency to cruelty among us seems to be
repressed rather than outgrown. But one day we may get so
far that the human consciousness will be definitely decentralised
from the level at which one being lives at the expense of an-
other, into the higher realm where the suffering of one hap-
pens to all, where one man's gain is to the advantage of every-
body* Then, and only then, will the beast have been over-
come.
THE soldiers have destroyed the images of gods in most of
the temples, and the mass of the people do not regard this as a
sacrilege. From the point of view of* the Church the Chinese
are undoubtedly irreligious; and as pronounced intellectuals,
they assume a sceptical position towards all myths of the be-
yond. The attitude of most cultured people towards theological
questions is that of Confucius, that it is superfluous and deroga-
tory to concern oneself with transcendental problems j the sig-
nificance of the world manifests itself in natural and^tangible
phenomena completely. That the Chinese are irreligious in a
38 CHINA PART v
prof ounder sense is certainly not true, and I will return to this
point later on. But this much seems certain, that divine service
does not mean anything religious to them; what we sec here is
nothing but superstition and magic. I felt surprised at the fact
that even the cultured individuals in this country, in which
public opinion In ecclesiasticls is so free, participate to a certain,,
and by no means small, degree in temple rites and religious
performances, and I tried to get to the bottom of the meaning
of these facts. The result was very extraordinary: the temples
mean to them just about what boards of agriculture and eco-
nomic councils mean to us, and the priests are more or less
equivalent to our engineers. They are the experts^who have
got to regulate the intercourse with the world of spirits.
I, for one, find this idea not superficial but profound, even
if it is expressed somewhat grotesquely, which happens so
often from our point of view in China, Even to the Indians
the gods are not transcendental beings, in the sense of the
Christian God, but natural phenomena of a higher kind, and
ritual exists in order to maintain good relations with them.
But the Indians are so religious in the Church sense that they
credit the gods subconsciously with more than corresponds
with their strict ideas of them; thus, even the Kali cult does not
seem essentially different from that of Christian worship. The
Chinese, on the other hand, who are practical and matter of
fact, have drawn every possible conclusion from the premises
which could be drawn from them: if there are demons, and if it
is possible to change their unwelcome effectiveness into one
that is welcome, then it must of course be donej there must be
institutions and people who undertake this important business
professionally. And this is the meaning of the Church-
It is impossible to believe how busy the technicians are who
have to appease the demons- China literally teems with spirits,
to such an extent that the comfort of life suffers seriously from
the disturbances which unceasing consideration of them re-
quires. one can neither bury nor marry when one likes nor
where one likes, nor even those whom one wants to: everything
is dependent upon incommensurabilities, A missionary whom
CHAP. 37 CANTON 39
I met once asked a high official, with the intention o taking
away his belief in spirits, why it was that such spirits did not
exist in Europe. He thereupon received the reply: if nobody
in Europe believes in spirits, then of course they do not exist
there; he personally was very much in favour of their dis-
appearing from China, but this was hardly to be expected
because the belief in them was too general to die out soon- He
meant that they were objectively real in China because people
believed very strongly in them. And, in fact, this seems to
be so: whatever can be interpreted as the intervention of
spirits, such as being possessed, or under a magic spell, etc.,
takes place in China more often than anywhere else. How
subtle was that Mandarin ! He was no less so than the Brahmin
who answered, in reply to the question as to what was the
use of praying to gods, as they were only natural phenom-
ena of an unsubstantial and transient kind: Prayers are useful
so that the gods may be strengthened. He meant the same
thing, that no matter whether they represent objective or
only subjective realities, a link is at any rate created by faith-
ful prayer, through which the mental image can affect the man
who prays. No, I cannot blame in the Chinese what almost
all European residents and travellers blame in him, I cannot see
a sign of superficiality in it, quite the contrary. The Chinese,
at any rate, see farther into the meaning of things than those
progressive Frenchmen whose latter-day persecution of Chris-
tians can only be described as insipid. Chinese superstition
is more profound than modern lack of faith. But, of course,
better and more advantageous consequences could be drawn
from the depths of this insight than the Chinese have known
how to do up to the present,
Goethe wrote somewhere how intensely a single clever say-
ing had furthered him. Something similiar happened to me
to-day: the accidental acquaintance with an apparently in-
different fact has made me cover a good piece of the road to-
wards the understanding of the Chinese.
What disturbed me more and more was the impassiveness of
this people, their uncanny equanimity. The calm of the Indians
does not surprise me, nor that of the Turks: the former lack
40 CHINA PART v
vitality and energy, and the latter are phlegmatic by tem-
perament. But the Chinese are not phlegmatic at all, no matter
how calmly they demean themselves, and they are vital to
the tips of the fingers. How is it possible that their masses
can give such an impression of serenity? I am told of un-
controllable outbreaks of anger, which are said to be more
violent even than those related concerning Scandinavian ber-
serkers. They say that it happens from time to time, that a
man gets into so thorough a rage that it takes several days
ere he gets back his equanimity j in the meantime he is said to
be furious as bulls are furious, absolutely irrespective of the
cause. The Chinese explain this phenomenon as due to the
accumulation of the substance of anger, Clfi. Many diseases
are traced back to it, and European doctors confirm the correct-
ness of the theory in its general outline: in fact, many dis-
turbances in the Chinese organism, some that end fatally, are
believed to be due to repressed rage.
Now the placidity of the mass is no longer an insoluble riddle
to me. Every one knows that the giants of action, like Caisar,
Napoleon, Mahomet, Alexander, Peter the Great, and even
Bismarck, were subject more or less periodically to nerve crises,
which assumed the shape sometimes of epilepsy, sometimes of
fits of rage, sometimes of collapse or fits of crying, but have
always been correctly regarded as what nerve-doctors call free- .
ing reactions* Temperaments of volcanic energy, which have to
be continuously collected, require a safety-valve opened at
certain intervals if they are not to burst; and the steam rushes
forth from them all the more impetuously the more condensed
it was. What is true of the heroes of action applies, within
certain limits, to the Chinese as a people. They are, on the
one hand, extraordinarily vital, and, on the other, they practise
the greatest self-control of all people. Therefore it was to be
expected, on an a priori basis, if nature was to remain nature,
that occasional fits of fury must belong to the national character
of the Chinese, and, moreover, fits of a much more violent
kind than those which are natural to the people of Southern
Europe, who habitually let themselves go* The facts of the
matter are in accordance with the postulates of reason j 1 there-
CHAP. 37 CANTON 41
fore feel mentally satisfied. The Ch*l should be studied more
in detail by psychologists. To-day the interaction between
body and mind commands the centre of interest: it could be
studied nowhere better than in the Far East, where self-dis-
cipline has been carried furthest and where its boundaries
the boundaries which nature has set to culture appear there-
fore most clearly. Above all, I should like to see the following
hypothesis tested by facts: the Chinese possess, unless I am
very much mistaken, the greatest physical vitality of all human
beings. Neither as individuals nor as a nation do they seem
to be capable of exhaustion} they get over illnesses which
would be fatal to other people, they can stand an excess of
work (also of mental work) without evil consequences to their
nerves, and the worst debauches harm them relatively little.
The nation seems to be deteriorated to a considerable extent
neither by over-culture, nor by inbreeding, nor by opium, nor
by syphilis in fact, by none of the things which ruin other
peoples. The only general phenomenon of degeneration which
can be observed among the cultured classes is their growing
philistinism and this is not regarded, for very good reasons,
as pathological in Europe at alL Is this marvellous physical
vitality not the consequence of psychic culture? It is a fact that
cultured individuals can stand the wear and tear of war better
than uncultured ones, that courageous men become less fre-
quently diseased and take less harm, than cowards, that the
nerves of a self-disciplined man can offer greater resistance
than those of the man who lets himself go, in short, that it
is possible to make oneself immune from physical dangers by
psychic measures} and the tendency of many schools of our
time is in the direction of strengthening the body through the
culture of the soul. Is the inherited vitality of the Chinese not
due to the same cause? They have practised self-control for
thousands of years, forced to do so by external circumstances,
and encouraged in it by a wise moral system} and in the process
has not that become inherited property which among us is
acquired only through personal effort by favoured individuals?
Of course, it must not be forgotten that in China natural
selection has assisted the building up of the race more than
42 CHINA PART v
anywhere else, and that this alone explains a great deal} weak
natures are hardly capable of life in China,
i
38
MACAU
HAVE escaped from the busy turmoil of Canton into ^ the
most idyllic and peaceful place which exists in the Far East:
I have reached the delightfully situated Macau, where Camoens
completed his Lusiadas. To what a remarkable extent the
atmosphere of China has taken possession of me! As a matter
of course the reaction against city life expresses itself in my
soul by quietistic thoughts & la Laotse and Djuang Tsej for
there can be no doubt that the extreme form of the quietism of
these men must be understood as a reaction against^ the ex-
tremes of sociability and bustle which characterised China even
in their day. When I re-read their writings here, then I feel as
if I were listening to the echo of my own self. The same
moods in Indian or European colouring would strike me as
heterogeneous, nay even as tactless.
What is it which gives its special character to Chinese mysti-
cism? Certainly not its meanings, its substance; in this direc-
tion it agrees with the wisdom of all peoples of all time. It is
partially its method of ｅxpression. I will not expand further
on this subject, as it is a direct function of the Chinese system
of writing. In just the same way, Taoistic philosophy does not
express definite thoughts so much as their ultimate signifi-
cance. And since this significance alone partakes of immor-
tality, whereas all conceptual embodiments must pass away
sooner or later, this fact brings about an absolute superiority
of the Chinese ｅxpressions of supreme truth j they alone will
continue to live as they stand; that which can be said of other
literatures only in the case of some rare sentences applies in
principle to all the ｅxpressions of Chinese wisdom. But I am
not concerned to-day with these objective things: I am too
tired after Canton, too needful of rest. And then Macau is
much too beautiful for me to enjoy the examination of abstract
CHAP. 38 MACAU 43
questions. When I think of Laotse to-day, I do not see the
harbinger of eternal truth in front of me, but a genial old gen-
tleman with a twinkle in his eye, with his unending flow of
humour, his winning bonhomie-, and if I stop to ponder about
the peculiarity of his wisdom I mean its concrete peculiarity,
that which is specifically Chinese in it. This is mainly ex-
pressed in the keynote of caution and circumspection which
resound from even the sublimest sentences of Chinese wisdom.
They will put up with anything rather than unpleasantness,
calculate everything in advance to a nicety, they organise
everything beforehand; they would rather place their light
under a bushel than draw attention to themselves by their
luminosity, they prefer to appear weak rather than strong,
they believe in giving way in all circumstances. This is just as
typical of the Chinese as longing for peace at any cost is typical
of the Indian, and active optimism of the Westerner, This
trait cannot possibly be sympathetic to me. But since I have
been in Canton 1 understand it so well that I am almost pre-
pared for the moment to make it my own. How could a man
become proud and free after the manner of the Greek sages,
or serenely detached in the sense of the Kishi, when it is liter-
ally impossible to keep at a distance from the masses? Within
the masses the wise man has no choice but to be cunning if he
wants to live a more or less supportable life. The Westerner in
such cases generally wears the mask of a charlatan, because our
plebs permit gladly to an eccentric, owing to their love of what
is new and unusual, what they would never forgive a sage, so
that his best policy is to let his wisdom appear as folly. In
China, where anything out of the ordinary is condemned in all
circumstances, the remarkable individual has no choice but
to avoid all friction with the crowd, and this can only be done
at the expense of his pride. Hence the extreme enmity to
culture and society on the part of the few who have neverthe-
less succeeded in withdrawing from the masses: it would be
inhuman if they had overcome this last shred of resentment-
How much is explained in China by over-population! And
how instructive are the effects which this has had upon the
Chinese temperament, for us white men who will also, sooner
44 CHINA PART v
or later, develop into a compact mass! China undoubtedly
owes its immense moral culture to it, and in this respect it still
excels the rest of humanity. It is impossible to flourish as an
uncultured individual when men are packed together as closely
as they generally arc in China; there, a boor is scarcely less
appalling than a criminal, who is a danger to the whole com-
munity, is among us. But, on the other hand, what a disadvan-
tage this is! How is an original personality to be developed in
the midst of such mass suggestion? How, above all, is he to
gain authority? Even among us, a genius by no means necessa-
rily fulfils his destiny; in China such a thing can only happen
thanks to an extraordinarily auspicious accident. No matter
how much talent a man may have in a small, out-of-the-way
village how is he to work his way up if so many millions stand
in his way? In such circumstances resignation from the start
means indeed the only salutary course. . .
I LIKE the Chinese here ever so much more than I did those
of Canton. The tradesmen, of course, cheat me with equal
success here as there, but that is not the point; in the Chinese
quarter of Macau the same atmosphere predominates which is
so homely and attractive in the style of Kung Ku-Tse: it is the
atmosphere of a cheerful bourgeois existence, possessing an
extreme sense of form. How little it matters what people
actually do! Christ preferred to associate with publicans and
sinners. What actually happens in the world is probably
without any significance. The continuous rattling of the gong
in Chinese theatres has ultimately the same effect as silence:
just so it is most likely no matter in itself whether one
lives in the desert or in a capital. The air of Paris remains
stimulating, no matter how silly the behaviour of its inhabi-
tants may be ; that of St. Petersburg drains one's soul, no matter
whom one may associate with. The psychic atmosphere of a
town is the result of so many component parts that the indi-
vidual component is of no account; just because there are so
many of them, the general atmosphere inevitably gives a pic-
ture of the real average. And here I notice to-day, first of all,
CHAP. 38 MACAU 45
what I have never felt with equal clarity anywhere else, how-
ever familiar I am with its theory: that originally there is no
necessary connection between action and being.
This is one of the fundamental views of the Indians. As in
so many cases, here, too, something which has been recognised
and understood more profoundly in India is better translated
into life in China j besides, it is easier to understand in China
because the Chinese, no matter what people say, are much
closer to us in culture, for which reason it is easier to judge
correctly of the differences. Among Europeans who live alto-
gether externally, being is necessarily influenced by action,
and accordingly intercourse is as a rule only agreeable with
those who practise a noble profession. In Europe the ruling
individual stands on the highest human level, as it is his duty
to act unselfishly on a large scale; the artist, who usually be-
lieves in distorted ideals, is unpleasant to deal with, and the
business man is repugnant everywhere unless his far-reaching
schemes do not drive him, in spite of himself, beyond his pro-
fessional thieving. In the East there is in general no necessary
connection between professional activity and being, and I am
more distinctly aware of this here than ever. I have been
observing the traders closely who draw my money out of my
pocket with so much skill: no matter how great an allowance
one may make for friendliness as a portion of business tech-
nique, I am convinced that many of these pedlars only carry
out their business and are not identified with it. They may
be on a high level as human beings.
The German understands this connection only with difficulty.
Here he must learn from the Russian, the only European who
originally possesses a direct relation to the soul of his neigh-
bour. Why should a man be bad, however much he may lie
and deceive? one must certainly take measures to protect one-
self j one should not let oneself be deceived, and where the
other party is too strong one should restrain him by law, so
that authority shall render him harmless. But it is barbarous
to ju&ge a man's being by his actions. For who has got to the
stage in which his actions are the complete ｅxpression of his
soul? I have never seen such a man. And where being and
46 CHINA PART v
action do not harmonise, the man who lies and deceives be-
cause custom permits it is equivalent in every way to the other
man who behaves justly from conventional motives. For him
who knows there is no difference between a 'pillar of society'
and a dishonest pedlar, in so far as neither of them are what
they do: if anything, the latter stands on a higher level in so
far as he has no ideals and therefore cannot be unfaithful to
them. I know it is not without danger to say such things j all
the more so as virtuous action does in the end influence the
soul, and vice versa; the Indians would have got farther than
they have done if they did not differentiate so clearly and
acutely between action and being. But these arc considera-
tions of practical politics which do not concern me for the
moment.
Laotse says:
He who recognises his light
And yet remains in the dark,
He is the model of the world*
The model. . . . I do not know whether Richard Wilhelm's
translation is exact here, but I should not be surprised- In this
instance the gulf which divides our conceptions of the world
(in which it is regarded as sinful to hide one's light under a
bushel) from that of the Taoists can be surveyed with particular
distinctness.
If the word were not 'model,' but ^mirror, 5 then nothing
could be said against this dictum. Unconscious creation without
intention, marching onwards without wanting to get on, being
content with given circumstances this is, in fact, Nature's
wayj and the man who follows consciously in her traces can
very well be described as her mirror. But as her model? only
if nothing higher can be conceived than the way of nature*
This is, in fact, the presupposition of the whole of Chinese
wisdom* Whereas, we recognise a domain of freedom above
nature, whereas we regard it as our duty to graft the spirit of
freedom upon the limitations of nature, with the result that
the natural static equilibrium does not present itself to us as an
ideal but as a condition which must be overcome, and that
CHAP. 38 MACAU 47
creation as opposed to obedience, overcoming as opposed to
surrender, willing in general as opposed to not willing, seem
to us to embody the higher value the Chinese have arrived at
precisely the opposite conclusion. Thus we arrive, in the ex-
treme case, at the paradoxical situation that the enlightened
individual regards it as his mission to hide his light under a
bushel.
Taoist wisdom is reproached on this account again and again
with unfruitful quietism, not least by the Conf ucianists, who
are ultimately of one spirit with it. There is no doubt that
Chinese wisdom fails in the self-conscious formation of this
life, just as creative work is opposed to its principle. It cannot
be denied, however, that the works of the Taoist classics con-
tain, perhaps, the profoundest sayings of wisdom which we
possess, the profoundest precisely from the angle of our ideal,
the ideal of creative autonomy. How is this possible? It is
possible because the Tao, 'Significance 7 (as Richard Wilhelm
has translated it so admirably) is expressed in natural proc-
esses more perfectly than in the freest way of freedom; so that
a life cannot but lead to perfection which reflects altogether the
sway of the forces of nature.
Heaven is eternal and the Earth enduring.
The cause of Heaven's and Earth's eternal duration is
That they do not live for themselves.
Therefore they can perpetually give Life.
Just so the Elected one:
He places his self hindmost,
And it comes foremost.
He renounces his self
And his self remains preserved.
Is it not thus:
Just because he does not care for his own,
Does that, which is his own, become perfected?
These glorious lines of Laotse are true in spite of the myth-
ical relation which he affirms between heaven and man, because
here the processes of nature are understood according to their
48 CHINA PART v
profoundest meaning, and because there is no difference in
meaning between vegetative and divine life. The call: back to
nature! understood in this way, has always advanced men.
Even where it has been wrongly understood, as in the case of
Rousseau, and also several later Taoists, it has only rarely done
harm, because Nature is perfect in her sphere, and hence even
superficial copying of her, a retrogression to her conditions as
such, brings the man constricted by his concepts nearer to his
vital centre. So much for the meaning of Taoist wisdom. I
have already dealt with its unique significance of ｅxpression:
of all the formulas of metaphysical reality which have been
discovered hitherto, the Chinese ones alone are probably im-
mortal. As to the human type which it produces, it possesses
that hybrid nature which is characteristic of the artist as well:
in the best case he belongs to the highest of which men are
capable; in all other manifestations except the highest, he
seems inferior to other types. No matter how great a Laotse
may have been the average Taoist was probably always a
mediocre fellow,
We, at any rate, must regard him as such', because in our
eyes it is the mission of man to rise above the plane of Nature.
If we too honour a Laotse as one of the greatest of men, it is
due to the fact that he has penetrated appearance altogether,
and has thus gone beyond the limitations of nature as well as
excelled the mission of men. I suggested above that the
Confucians also regard the Taoists as a low type, whereas the
opposition between Confucian and Taoist wisdom does not
seem so very great to us; this is due to the Chinese element in
both schools. Thus I have arrived once more at the point at
which I left off yesterday. This wisdom is, after all, Chinese
wisdom, and to this extent not supernational and difficult for
us to do justice to. If I therefore say that the average ^Taoist
is an inferior fellow, I possibly only express, with this per-
emptory judgment, my limitations as a European.
I AMUSE myself at the hour of the siesta by reading the Liao-
tshai-tshi-i, the 'curious stories from the den of refuge' of Pu
CHAP. 38 MACAU 49
Sung-ling, the c last of the immortals' of China. The quality
of humour which appears in this work is exquisite 5 real or
possible events seem to be related quite calmly and profession-
ally, even with a certain dryness, but the stories are told in
such a way that they inevitably strike the reader as funny,
although the intention is not apparent. In inner value the
humour of Gogol is equivalent to that of the Chinese, but that
for which there is no equivalent in European literature since
the days of the Greeks is the literary mastery by which it has
been found possible to achieve humorous effects out of the
pure form without calling any material circumstances to aid,
At first sight the humorous element does not seem capable of
presentment in a severe form. China proves the error of such
an opinion.
I gain my impression from a translation, which is presumably
bad: on what a high level must the original be placed if the
translation has failed to rob it of its nature! Even now I can
understand very well why cultured Chinese who possess a
command of European languages will only admit ancient
Greek literature as real art and as almost equivalent to that^of
China: the Greeks alone were simultaneously severe and rich
in their method of ｅxpression. The strictness of the Latin
form is exclusive the only form to which the term of strength
can be applied in the West since the days of Greece: form must
be inclusive, it must melt, condense, and not mutilate but
enhance its possible content, if its severity is to embody the
highest value. It is true that the Chinese masters work in
certain respects under more favourable conditions than any
others: they can be severe in their forms without tracing
definite boundaries. They owe this to their^marvellous system
of writing. As I have remarked already, it is possible in China
literally to express as much, and even more, with three hier-
oglyphics than can be said in our languages on many long
pages our masters of precision have all had to bury a great
deal in silence; the Chinese artists have all the advantages oa
their side which the pure mathematician has as compared with
the physicist in science. And the disadvantage which is in-
herent in this system from our point of view, namely, that these
50 CHINA PAKT v
poems exist chiefly for the eye and cannot very well be heard or
read aloud, obviously does not arise for the Chinese, for whom
this convention is a matter of habit. But what is the use of
speaking of easier or more difficult conditions? Man creates
the conditions which he deserves. China's supremacy of form
is unquestionable in all circumstances.
At night-time I occasionally visit one of the famous 'gam-
bling hells' and amuse myself with the fan-tan. There can
hardly be anything more calm and peaceful than such a hell.
Gamblers almost always look earnest and professional, but I
have never observed anywhere such cheerful equanimity as in
Macau. The game in itself is infinitely dull; the player at
best can only win very little, the bank must in all circumstances
win a great deaL The Chinaman, however, goes home calmly
and placidly after he has played away his daily wage. He rocks
himself at most, if he has lost too much, in sweet opium dreams
to comfort himself.
While I watched this game, the passage in the Bhagavad-
Gita came to my mind in which Krishna (as God, as Ijvara)
says of himself: I am the game of the gambler. As a matter
of fact, the feeling for hazard, whatever may lie said against
it, implies the existence of vitality. The independent staking
of pure chance as the sole condition of experience means, re-
garded from the Atman point of view, the same thing in prin-
ciple as being a match for the changes and chances of life. For
life is, after all, nothing but the capacity to assert a condition
of inner equilibrium within the transition of external circum-
stances. The fact that most gamblers, in intimate contradic-
tion to themselves, seek after systems, belongs to the counter-
point of Life: we always do that which destroys the mean-
ing of our real volition. Why is it that the type of the
gambler no matter what his stake may be cannot be re-
garded as a high one? It is due to the fact that the man who,
within the correlation of life with the outer world, stresses the
accidental side, thereby placing what is senseless above sense;
he really abdicates as a free, responsible being. The gambler
is the antipode of the hero: whereas the latter knows his life to
be profoundly significant and sacrifices it because he recognises
CHAP.39 TSING-TAU 51
something even higher, the former stakes his life because he
thinks it indifferent.
39
TSING-TAU
I AM beginning to be grateful to the revolution: thanks to it, a
large number of distinguished Chinese, among them several
ex-Governor-Generals and ex- Viceroys, have gathered together
in Tsing-tau, whither they have fled from the partisans of
Western civilisation. Richard Wilhelm interprets between
them and myself. Thus I am beginning to get an insight into
the highest possibilities of Chinese humanity.
My expectations arc being exceeded by a wide margin; these
gentlemen, whatever they may be as human beings, stand on
an extraordinarily high level as types; especially their supe-
riority impresses me. Not only do they stand above their out-
ward fate, which is such a sad one at the moment: they rise
above their thoughts, their actions, their personality in general;
and they do so not in the way the Yogi does; it, who has leapt
beyond appearance, but in the more difficult sense of the
worldly-wise, who preserves his inner freedom in the midst of
the turmoil in which he participates. In India, people disap-
pointed me; they are less than their literature. What is high-
est and profoundest in them has found ｅxpression in abstract
thought, and the majority of live Indians do not embody the
striving after the ideal, but they act it; therefore one learns
little through intercourse with them. The vital Chinese, on
the other hand, are undoubtedly more than their wisdom, yea,
and I would almost say that they are more than their classic
literature. I am beginning to understand the meaning of Con-
fucianism. Kung Fu Tse struck me, until now, as a rationalis-
ing moralist, and the high praise which falls to the lot of
Mencius astonished me to some extent since I could only
regard his conception of the world as no doubt exceedingly
reasonable but not profound. Now I realise that Confucian
philosophy must be understood in quite a different way from
52 CHINA PART v
the Indian and from the German: as philosophy it does not
represent any intrinsic and independent ｅxpression at all, but
it represents the abstract formula of a reality which has either
been experienced or is to be experienced} the word of Kung
Fu Tse must be understood as flesh, or as a reference to exist-
ing flesh. In these circumstances his teaching assumes quite a
different character and appears separated by a wide abyss from
the moral philosophy of our eighteenth century, which it
resembles so closely on the surface} therefore it does not sig-
nify much if its thoughts, as such, are not profound: I do not
believe that God thinks profound thoughts, for He is pro-
fundity itself} where profundity gains perfect ｅxpression in
concrete existence, there the sense for profundity is superfluous.
That is precisely what strikes me in the distinguished gentle-
men whom I meet in Tsing-tau: they Ihe Confucianism} what
I regarded hitherto as a theoretical postulate is their very form
of existence to them. All these statesmen take it as a matter of
course that the organism of state rests on a moral basis, that
politics are the external ｅxpression of ethics, and that justice is
the normal emanation of good intentions} and it seems a mat-
ter of course to them, in quite a different sense from that in
which the Sermon of the Mount does to the Christians: not as
something which ought to be, but which happens only rarely,
but as something which necessarily takes place. This brings
about a fundamental difference. one always achieves what one
does not doubt. I do not know the merits, as regents, of the
governors with whom I conversed: it is certain, in any case, that
they ruled in the Confucian spirit, which is to say from a moral
basis. And this necessarily transfigured even their insuffi-
ciency.
For the first time I find myself in the presence of a human
type whose deepest element is morality. Such a type does not
exist in the West, It is possible that our Government officials
have acquitted themselves better during the last hundred years
than Chinese ones (for the integrity of our functionaries is not
older than that, as a typical manifestation, even in Germany)
it is certain that the spirit from which they do so is not equiv-
alent to that of the Chinese, no matter how much they fail hi
CHAP-39 TS1NG-TAU S3
practice. Our political culture is conditioned externally; it is
the result of a system which forces the individual to good
actions} it was called to life independently of the soul, and con-
tinues independently of it. The political culture of the Chinese
depends upon the development of his inner self, and when
one considers that the great Chinese Empire has hardly been
governed worse for thousands of years than modern Europe
is to-day, and that this has been done without the mediation
of a machinery which automatically holds men in 'check,
purely and solely thanks to the moral qualifications of its
citizens, one must confess that the average level of moral cul-
ture must be extraordinarily high among Chinese literati. At
any rate, it is extraordinarily high in the case of those with
whom I have come in touch, And one can hear, through the
most courteous remarks they make concerning the West, a
certain surprise that the same is so little the case there* They
regard us as moral barbarians. Our system is, of course,
worthy of admiration, but the men, and their fundamental
attitude ... I am afraid these gentlemen are right. We
Westerners have run ahead of life with our intelligence. Our
moral superiority, of which we are so proud, seems up to the
present little more than the functioning within the confines
of a more than intelligently thought-out system; because this
is so, we are rebelling of late even against morality in general.
Which of the extreme manifestations of the social life of the
West do not find their profoundest explanation in the fact
that external manifestations are not rooted in internal realities?
Tolstoyism and anarchism on the one hand, and, on the other,
nationalism and racial fanaticism they are all movements
which want to substitute natural for artificial phenomena. We
are inferior to our system. The Chinese stand above theirs.
This is the success of education in the spirit of Confucius,
It gives me a great deal of food for thought that the practice
of such simple principles as the Confucian ones can give men
such superiority. I have never yet met with a perfect human
being among European moral fanatics. But the cause of this
difference is not far to seek: the principles of morals have
always meant an external law to us, be it that God or authority,
54 CHINA PART v
or absolute practical reason opposed to nature, has imposed
them upon us, Confucianism regards them as guiding lines,
according to which a cultured individual acts necessarily and
naturally. They think that it is in the nature of things that
father and son, husband and wife, friend and friend, prince
and subject, show each other faithfulness and benevolence; if
man develops what is natural, morality is said to result of its
own accord. The emphasis is thus laid on the perfect develop-
ment of human nature. No one has any inner opposition to
such categorical instruction;; everybody wants to be cultured.
Thus, the Chinese readily takes the trouble which the Kuropean
youth, since the day that the spirit of antiquity died, hardly
ever takes: he meditates on the weaning of morality. If he
does so seriously and continuously, the correctness of the Con-
fucian theory will some time or another be revealed to him.
For it is a question of a man's power of differentiation, which
can be increased by training, whether he inclines towards good
or evil. Henceforward, wavering is no longer possible; moral
nature has been awakened. How much in education depends
on its beginning and technique! The Chinese have not thought
anything like as much as we have concerning morality; they
have never seen in it such a high ideal as our (especially Protes-
tant) ethical leaders have* But in practice they have attained
much more.
THESE gentlemen are, of course, conservative: what politi-
cally developed individual is not? The man who possesses a
feeling for history, who knows that only organic growth leads
upward, is never progressive' in the radical sense. In the in-
trinsic meaning of the word, only such a man, of course, is
really progressive, for he alone feels reverence for appearance,
which the radical sacrifices everywhere thoughtlessly to an ab-
stract principle. Is it not highly significant that the workmen
of Belgium and France have already condemned the idea of
c human right/ and only recognised the right of existence of
their organised (technically 'conscious') comrades?
It must be admitted that the dignitaries whom I refer to are
CHAP.39 TSING-TAU 55
not only conservative but decidedly reactionary. But how
could a Confucian of the ancient type be in favour of inno-
vation? If the traditionally Chinese form of state, which was
codified by Kung, is really alone in being in perfect harmony
with the guide of the world, then the desire for innovation
means nothing short of madness. Then the people can do
nothing more wise than obey the old regulations strictly; then
what we call 'standstill 5 has the same meaning as the perpetual
rejuvenation of nature, which also proceeds within a changeless
general frame. Then the eradication of the heretic really sig-
nifies the same as the elimination of the unfit in the struggle for
existence. . . .
There are, of course, several things to be said against the
form of state which the Tao is said to demand; and even more
Weighty considerations can be brought against the funda-
mental presupposition of the static (immutable) nature of the
arrangement of the world, which makes all innovation appear
opposed to sense. The world is actually in process of growth;
no ready-made ideals underlie it, but ideals are created afresh
at every new stage. For this reason the idea of an absolutely
best form of the state includes, as such, a misconception: as
long as the world remains in the making, that is to say, as long
as it exists, any 'best possible form of state' is an impossible
concept; every concrete ideal can apply only for a definite
period and to a special place. But it is precisely the man who
understands all this who will pay the greatest admiration to
the Chinese conception of the world. It is not only that its
universal and fundamental idea, according to which the proc-
esses of nature and the lives of men form a flawlessly inter-
laced system, is a grand idea; it is not only the consistency
with which every individual phenomenon is being related back
to it, it is perhaps a unique example of intending-to-be and
being-in-earnest seeing what the Chinese were like during
the last thousands of years, one must admit that they could not
have professed a better philosophy: it has stood the pragmatic
test perhaps better than any other in the world. China is the
only empire which has solved the social question for an ex-
tended period; the only one in which the mass of the popula-
56 CHINA PARTV
tion was ever happyj and the only one which has ever embodied
the absolute social and political ideal in the world of appear-
ance. Since, moreover, the Chinese of to-day resemble their
distant ancestors so that we could mistake them how could a
cultured Chinaman not be reactionary?
I too feel like a reactionary here* All the more so as I sec
considerable reason to fear that that which has made China, until
to-day, worthy of admiration and reverence, will he lost to-
gether with the old order. The Chinese are, no doubt, not a
nation of thinkers; their conscious thought seems to have
moved more continuously on the surface than that of any
nation of comparable culture and talents. However, living in
accordance with profundity is more than harbouring deep
thoughts, and that is what the Chinese have done to an incom-
parable degree until to-day; their traditional communal life
has the same meaning as the sublime philosophy of the Indians
has for them; their life was a direct ｅxpression of the Tao.
How perfectly they have always solved the problem of hap-
piness! Every coolie demonstrates in his life the eternal truth
which our greatest men have preached to deaf ears, namely,
that happiness is a question of inner attitude, and that It is not
dependent upon external circumstances as such* The theory
that the course of the world is incapable of being influenced is,
of course, at fault; the fact that we have not acted in accord-
ance with the principle of Mong Tse: *It is better to wait until
the weather is favourable than to acquire good implements for
tilling the soil/ has made us into the masters of nature. But
how dearly we have paid for this achievement! Since we know
that the external world is changeable, we have transferred the
problem of happiness, together with all others, into this realm,
and this condemns us to hopeless misery until we change our
ways. And so on and so forth. Every Chinaman until this
day, no matter how superficially he may have thought, no
matter how inappropriately he may have acted^ demonstrated
a deep philosophy in his lifej he counted the outer world as
something truly external, and sought essentials in other dimen-
sions. In Europe only women do this; they are accordingly
by far the prof ounder philosophers of life* For this very rca-
CHAP.39 TSING-TAU 57
son women are typically conservative. In fact, if what is
essential in no way depends on external circumstances, then it
can easily appear more expedient to live in an unchangeable
world, to which one has accommodated oneself once and for
all, rather than having to adapt oneself anew again and again,
without ever achieving a better general result in the process.
Is not everything which is enduring reactionary? Nature, as
such, is reactionary j not merely because she knows nothing of
progress with a definite aim whenever she has been changed
from without she reverts, as soon as she is left to herself, back
to her original condition, and this, this alone, seems immortal
in her. Perhaps this is the solution of the problem why Asiatic
people are generally longer-lived than European ones: either
the physiological element dominates in them, or else the mental
element, thanks to a conservative attitude, has been so inti-
mately related to the former that it has become second nature.
HOW perfect is the courtesy of the cultured Chinaman! It is
an sesthetic delight to have intercourse with him, in spite of
the unusual technical difficulties which the code of Chinese
politeness causes to a foreigner. The fact is that etiquette in
itself renders intercourse more easy: it creates an equation
between incongruous elements, an equation which is always
soluble} it places the sinner and God, the beggar and the king,
on the same level, and leads strangers along a level track to-
wards mutual understanding. Before I met Chinamen I had
made myself familiar with the fundamental rules of their code,
and I now follow them as well as I can, and find, to my delight,
that it works.
In the distinguished Chinaman, that most refined form of
perfection seems to have been attained in which politeness,
within the limits of custom strictly observed, has given appro-
priate ｅxpression to personality. How rarely one meets with
this in modern Europe! I have observed something of similar
value only in a few French Grand Seigneurs, and they were
late-born sons of the eighteenth century. Whoever has good
manners to-day Is generally conventional and correspondingly
58 CHINA PART v
superficial. In order to realise the most personal content^ in
objective form, one must be more cultured than education
allows in present-day Europe. In China this is still possible,
and for this reason the great men of this country^ stand on a
higher level of culture than ours do* For the typical form is
not opposed to perfect individual ｅxpression} on the contrary:
individual ｅxpression generally precludes it. The more an art
becomes perfect, the more classic docs it become, which means
that what is accidental and individual becomes sublimated into
forms of general validity. The same is true vi man. The
more he becomes inward, profound, putentialised, the more
do his personal elements retreat into the background, and the
more generally human does his being appear to become. ^Thus,
all truly great men have been types rather than individuals.
Tolstoy is more of a Russian than a personality. Voltaire is
more of a Frenchman than himself j and those mightiest men of
all who have burst all local and national barriers, are, for this
reason, not less, but more, typical in a wider sense: they are
simply men, stylised according to an absolutely general for-
mula: according to the formulas of saints, of men of action,
of thinkers. Thus Christ calls Himself 'the son of man,' and
Buddha c the perfected one.' In precisely the same sense has
courtesy, which means obedience to the most general farm
which controls desirable intercourse between men, proved it-
self, everywhere and at all times, as the best possible means
of ｅxpression of a highly cultured personality.
How is it that this highest form seems to be attained by
educated Chinese not exceptionally, but as a rule, whereas
among us perfect Grand Seigneurs were scarce even in the
seventeenth century? This is the work of two writings which
have inspired all education for more than two thousand years
in the Middle Empire: the Book of Reverence (Ulau Oin^y
and the real catechism of Chinese civilisation, the Book of Rites.
The former bases the whole of morality (which, according to
Chinese ideas, contains the whole of life within it) upon the
principle of reverence. Like Goethe, Chinese wisdom sees in
it that 'which no one brings into the world with him, that upon
which everything depends, so that man shall become a man in
CHAP.39 TSING-TAU 59
all directions'; like him, it represents it in three aspects: as
reverence before that which is above us, that which is below
us, and that which is like us; indeed, reverence before every-
thing which exists appears to this outlook as the very basis of
all virtue and all wisdom. And that is really what it is: one
only does justice to that which one takes absolutely seriously.
For this reason, politeness is not something essentially exter-
nal, but the most elemental ｅxpression of morality: whereas
virtue and kindness cannot fairly be demanded of everybody,
the formal acceptance of another personality can be demanded.
This gives its profound significance to courtesy. This signifi-
cance, then, has been developed into a marvellous theoretical
doctrine in the second-named volume, the Book of Rites,
which, on the other hand, is founded upon it. It asserts that
man can only become inwardly perfect if he expresses himself
perfectly outwardly; he can only express what is most personal
in him correspondingly if he obeys the forms which have
proved themselves to be typical for the Chinese in the course of
history. How infinitely beneficial it must be to be instructed in
this manner from childhood! This equation is actually estab-
lished through the fact that it is regarded as a matter of course
that form symbolises its content, that the external gives ex-
pression to the internal; this happens in the case of talented
people by creative understanding, in the case of the average
man in the sense of Prussian military drill. This result is
enhanced by other circumstances: the Chinaman has a funda-
mental sense for etiquette, and for this reason the practice of
good manners meets only rarely with the opposition which is
peculiar to the modern European youth; moreover, considera-
tion is a vital question where the community ties the individual
on all sides so that he cannot be regarded as his own master
in any way, and sometimes even has to act <obj actively' where,
according to our ideas, only subjectivity is in question. But no
matter what empirical conditions may be at play: no matter how
external the circumstances may be, at any rate in China the
cultured individual appears to be more inward than anywhere
else.
The marvellous courtesy which has delighted me during
60 CHINA PART v
these days Is the flower of Confucianism, just as the thorough
moral development of man signifies its root. Is this world
conception not magnificent which knows how to bring all pro-
fundity to the surface? Which establishes a necessary equa-
tion, not only between moral and formal culture, between
charm and dignity, but between gracefulness and seriousness,
gracefulness and wisdom? This presupposed equation very
naturally manifests itself perfectly only in the highly cultured
individual; in the mass, externals predominate here, as every-
where else where culture has reached a similar height. Of all
European people the French arc socially the most cultured,
and even among them forms have come to lead an existence
which is ever more and more independent of its content j just
as in China manners dominate which have no relation to ethical
qualities, so a stupid Frenchman can seem clever simply because
his language is so very intelligent. Now what is to be pre-
ferred, a perfect external civilisation which exists by itself and
does not necessarily influence the individual, or perfect sincerity
of the subject which, considering what men are to-day, leads to
a condition of general barbarism? This question ^ will be
answered differently according to whether one's spirit is Catho-
lic or Protestant. The Catholic-minded will stress the fact that
the obedience to form which is objectively the best, no matter
how external it may be, influences a man in the long run, so that
it cannot be regarded as a misfortune if he does not appear
sincere from time to time, because he will be educated up to a
higher condition by this means j and he will reproach the
Protestant with the fact that too much emphasis on straight-
forwardness, although it makes man momentarily free, really
robs him of his future; he will maintain that the man who re-
fuses to be determined by what is above him, and what cannot
correspond to his being for that very reason, will never get be-
yond himself. The man of Protestant proclivities, on the
other hand, will judge sincerity to be absolutely superior, no
matter how dearly one pays for it, because man can be advanced
intrinsically only through his own experience, while no
matter how Imperfect an independently gained insight may be,
it possesses more value in all circumstances than the very best
CHAP. 39 TSING-TAU 61
activity under the guidance o authority. He will, moreover,
maintain that there can be no question of renouncing the future
for the sake of the present, because, as success has proved, the
Protestant people are precisely the most progressive. The
Catholics are to-day exactly where they were hundreds of years
ago, whereas the Puritans who, two hundred years ago, were
barbarians, march to-day, as every one knows, at the head of
civilisation. That is quite correct. Undoubtedly the culture
of sincerity implies the more far-sighted policy, as compared
with the culture of perfect form. But regarded from the angle
of the given present, the former seems to be the more desirable.
For it alone presents a picture of a perfection which has been
attained, whereas the other only promises it for the future.
MAY one describe the formal culture of China as exemplary?
Unquestionably, if it is understood according to its spirit j
the Chinese have transfused the surface with spirit more per-
fectly than all other people, and they have succeeded in pro-
ducing the most complete fusion of form and significance.
Again and again I come back to Confucius' picture of the *Noble
one, 7 whose profundity appears in his gracefulness: no demi-
god could be more accomplished. Generally, profundity and
attractiveness are mutually exclusive, just as primitive force
and charm, ease and thoroughness are; it seems almost incon-
ceivable that a man could combine within himself the advan-
tages of the Germans and of Frenchmen. The Chinese in his
highest manifestation really combines them within him. And
even if he does not attain altogether to the profundity of the
one or to the mobility of the other, if he is less brilliant, less
delicate, if his natural disposition is not quite so rich as ours is
in many cases, yet his cultured existence represents neverthe-
less a synthesis of humanity which has not been realised in an
equally embracing form anywhere else.
In spirit, formal Chinese culture is undoubtedly exemplary;
I, at any rate, could not conceive of any other which is more
worthy of emulation. But then I ask myself: Is its realisation
ultimately tied to Chinese peculiarities? Possibly. This world
62 CHINA PART v
is curiously constituted, in so far as it often requires a purely
accidental conjunction in order to embody an eternal and
generally valid meaning in appearance. Just as the poet is by
no means the * only true man/ as Schiller would have it, the
man with the intensest experience, the strongest passions, but
the one who happens to turn an accidental combination of tal-
ents into the mouthpiece of something which others often pos-
sess in a far deeper measure} just as the 'genius* is not a self-
determined unit, but comes to exist through the coincidence of
certain talents with definite historical factors, none of which
would have brought about an inspired creation by themselves
in this way it may very well be that Chinese perfection, which,
in its significance, represents an absolute climax, can only be
presented in Chinese. Such a presentment, however, cannot be
an example for us. For it requires a very special temperament
to remain perfectly genuine while obeying a strictly prescribed
ritual, and to evince genuineness while confining oneself
consciously within the limits of one of the most rigid forms
of life. This form of life is perhaps not quite as foreign to us
as it seems: Englishmen are not very different. They gener-
ally do, think and wish the same thing and remain original at
the same time 5 the Briton pronounces platitudes with the same
power of conviction as Galileo once pronounced his cppur si
muow; and the Briton is accordingly also by far the most per-
fect of all European men. But it is precisely when the simi-
larity in principle between the Chinese and the British has been
recognised that one must feel strong doubt whether the ideal
of absolute perfection is capable of general realisation. one
can become everything except an Englishman if one has? not
been born onej his characteristics are strictly conditioned by
thousands of details, accidents, limitations and prejudices,
more so than in the case of any other ｅxpression of European
humanityj and only where these primary conditions are ful-
filled do the advantages of the Englishman appear. In the
same way, the individualistic culture of the Renaissance stood
and fell with the predominance of extraordinary individuals.
Thus it may very well be that the example of' China too is
inimitable.
CHAP.39 TSING-TAU 63
I for my part do not regret this, for I believe but faintly in
the general and all-sided progress of the human race, nor do I
believe that it would be desirable. For whither would it lead?
To progressive uniformity. It is better for us that our ideals
experience short-lived realisation like lightning here and there,
sometimes in antiquity, sometimes now and sometimes at any
period, sometimes in China, sometimes in Greece, sometimes
in Germany, so that we are mentally continually on the look-
out j I say that this is better than that we should surrender
ourselves, with cheap optimism, to the drift of time which is to
lead us mechanically towards an ideal condition.
I MUST, after all, turn my attention to the reverse of the
Chinese culture of form: its external quality which on the
whole distinguishes it to-day.
That it is external in general is a matter of course: it is im-
possible that perfect form can be the true ｅxpression even of
the most highly cultured mass. The mass may be charming,
considerate, polite and yet straightforward, but it cannot be
straightforward and simultaneously polite in the courtly sense j
it is beyond their power to fulfil so much form- Whence,
however, the extreme character of Chinese externals? For they
are indeed extreme. The average Chinese is so aware of what
ought to be done that he reveals himself only exceptionally
without any ulterior thought j he appears quite at his ease
only where he feels absolutely secure 5 he is, throughout the
whole of his life, as it were, his own master of ceremonies.
Correspondingly, he only feels himself responsible for what
happens externally, for the 'workings' of the ceremonial; the
inner outlook does not belong to his domain, it seems unim-
portant to him. Nothing that has grown as a live being can
ever be deduced as suchj essentials escape justification. Still
it will do no harm if I summarise briefly in abstracto the gen-
eral causes which are at issue: the extreme nature of Chinese
externalism is due to the fact that a people with a limited con-
sciousness of individuality, with an extraordinary sense of
64 CHINA PART v
form, and with remarkable social talents, has existed in too
many examples for thousands of years.
Imagine thousands upon thousands of peaceable, practical
human beings crammed together into the smallest space and
never able to escape from it. The only possibility of satisfac-
tory mutual relations would depend upon the strict obedience
to what seemed right to every one present. In intercourse what
matters is not the attitude but its ｅxpression; not the true being,
but semblance. In a commonwealth like the one which has
been presupposed this would be the case especially. There
would be no room at all for personal whims j only a life of
strict conformity could possibly flourish as a general standard.
If, moreover, an original tendency existed to perform the in-
evitable, then this would benefit the prestige of custom, which
would further be supported by their sense for form. In this
way the whole of their social life would soon be regulated
according to objective forms, and it would have been external-
ised in this process. This trend of thought shows that the
actual condition of Chinese society can be construed on an a
priori basis. What does this prove? It proves how much it is
in accordance with nature. In point of fact, we are closer to
the Chinese than we believe. We are pleased to mock at the
Chinese 'face, 5 the longing to preserve appearances above allj
at the paradox of a man who bears the consequences of his
wrong-doing without a murmur, as long as he can keep up the
pretence that he is suffering innocently, or that his suffering is
no suffering at all: exactly the same is true of ourselves.
Among us too in social life everything depends upon reputa-
tion, public opinion, and on mythsj in our case, social life causes
externalisation everywhere. As soon as consideration of others
affects behaviour at all, straightforwardness and faithfulness
towards oneself recede into the background; as soon as the
former becomes decisive, the latter exists no longer. The mere
postulation of consideration as a value removes the sheer possi-
bility of congruity between being and action, or between being
and semblance. Let no one suggest that Christian love proves
the contrary: it is just Christian love which is essentially lack-
ing in consideration} it does not care a button for the feelings
CHAP.39 TSING-TAU 65
of its neighbour} it wishes him well for the sake of good. We
consider the feelings of our fellow-beings only in so far as we
are bad Christians. Thus, Chinese society expresses what is
typical only in an extreme, or, if you like, in a caricatured,
form; the Chinese are not an eccentric people, they are only the
most completely formed and the most consistent of men. And
in a certain sense they are the most sincere. We all act con-
stantly to ourselves; we all regard ourselves, in conscious self-
deception, as different from what we know we are; we are all
inwardly contented if, thanks even to the most dubious trans-
action, appearances are preserved before ourselves. We are
only afraid of dissimulation before others. The self-de-
velopment of the idea, as Hegel would say, has produced the
quaint result, that we are straighter towards others than we are
towards ourselves 5 that we are truthful from untruthfulness.
The Chinese manner of acting in front of others as they do to
themselves, seems, in comparison with our method, undoubt-
edly the more honest. Let no one imagine that I am merely
joking here; I am perfectly serious. Any one who cannot be-
lieve in the greater uprightness of the Chinese should get hold
of the newspapers in which they discuss their intimate affairs:
I have never met with such a method of observation totally
lacking in vanity, nor with such unreserved professionalism.
When they mean to be honest, they are honest, not otherwise}
we pretend to be always so.
The fact that the Chinese credit ceremonial with a signifi-
cance which seems inordinate to modern men is also typical
and not a proof of their eccentricity. The form no doubt plays
a more important part in China than its content: but this is a
state of affairs which we meet with everywhere at a certain stage
of development. The more a people is still in a natural condi-
tion, that is to say, the simpler, the more primitive it would
have appeared according to the theory of the eighteenth cen-
tury, the more does ritual mean to it. This state of affairs
assumes at first a more subtle aspect in the course of develop-
ment; ritual becomes more complicated, more refined, until,
at some moment, the point appears to be reached at which the
individual revolts against the reputations created by the com-
66 CHINA PARTY
munity, and he finally breaks the historical form* We Euro-
peans have arrived at the last of the stages which have been
sketched above, the cultured Chinese at the previous one, the
one in which objective form has attained to its uttermost devel-
opment. The Chinese represent this in classical typification,
more classical even than the Frenchmen did in the Europe of
the seventeenth century, whose condition resembles so remark-
ably that of the China of yesterdayj they regard the form of
all action really as its substance. Psychologically this attitude is
based upon the fact that at first man is not a match for the
things he has invented, and he therefore overestimates them
accordingly this applies to ritual as it does to machinery (the
mechanical view of the world of to-day is psychologically
equivalent to the ritualistic one)} he regards them as inde-
pendent entities, not merely as organs or means of ｅxpression
of his own being. Biologically, however, this view is directly
connected with the lack of individualisation of men at this
stage. Where a man's class seems more in his own conscious-
ness than man does himself, then the rules which apply to the
community necessarily mean more to him than his personal
equation^ there the strict obedience of custom has the same
metaphysical meaning that straightforward self-ｅxpression has
among ourselves. This is interpreted variously, according to
the mental capacity and culture of the people concerned: those
who are mythically inclined, like the Indians, accord magical
virtues to ritual, while people who are poorer in imagination,
like the French, content themselves with regarding custom
as the ultimate court of appeal The Chinese have thought out
the profoundest theory which could have been invented for
this relation, profound less in the sense of understanding than
in the more significant sense of its effect upon life: they have
taught and professed the belief that obedience to objective
forms necessarily leads the individual towards his personal
perfection. The masses have remained external in spite of it,
but to the higher average a road has thus been pointed out
which leads, more surely if not more rapidly, to the goal than
any which we have ever embarked upon.
The significance of ceremonial in China is a typical and not
CHAP-40 THROUGH SHANTUNG 67
an extraordinary phenomenon 5 it is typical of a society which is
not highly individualised but possesses a high culture at the
same time. The modern European finds some difficulty in tak-
ing such forms of life seriously. But if manifestations are
to be taken seriously at all, then this applies to these too. For
a metaphysician there is no difference between the forms which
nature puts into the world and those created by the inventive
imagination. As phenomena, both are equally real} from the
point of view of significance both are one and the same. And if
even the metaphysician cannot help considering this cMnoiseri*
as somewhat grotesque, as a caricature of the generality of man-
kind, it strikes him simultaneously as raised to the level of a
caricature of the whole creation. All definite manifestations
can be regarded as prejudice} every one, regarded from some
point of view, appears grotesque. It is a question of one's
mood, of one's momentary whim, whether one feels inclined to
smile at man as such, this strange, hybrid creature, or whether
the peculiar ceremonies which he observes when expressing his
greetings awaken our ridicule. . . .
40
THROUGH SHANTUNG
/-T-VHE greatness of China takes hold of and impresses me
L more and more. It is a universe by itself, essentially
greater than any other empire which I have ever entered, and
I well understand by now that its inhabitants are not inclined
to take the rest of the world very seriously. At times I am
reminded of Russia, that other gigantic empire which will
always appear great, no matter what may happen to it: whatsis
this common quality, of which I am so acutely conscious in spite
of all the differences? I do not quite know 5 but I believe
that it is the grandeur of the scale which differentiates China
in the same way from all the countries of the East as Russia
from those of the West. There is nothing wider, nothing more
encompassing, than the 'brown plain,' and^ it is reflected in
the smallest manifestations. The true Russian son of the soil
68 CHINA PARTY
is essentially (even if not always actually) a big and broad-
minded nature. In the same way, the open, clearly outlined
Chinese landscape is monotonous, rhythmic and great, and its
inhabitants bear the same stamp. The Chinaman too gives
essentially an impression of bigness, no matter how dry and
philistine he may often be, for a tremendous unity is at the
bottom of his chlnoherle. The very expressive term chtnoi-
serie awakens at first an image of something small and petty,
just as the corresponding image in Burma, Siam and Japan
actually bears a petty character. In China one feels the sub-
stance of the powerful soul of a great people through every
arabesque, and its power is uncannily seductive. I know
for certain that in the long run, it would take possession of me
completely, as it has taken possession already of so many.
The substantiality of the Chinese strikes one all the more
because his surface often betrays a nature which our European
imagination finds difficult to harmonise with the idea of pro-
fundity; whatever is pretty, dainty, graceful and finicky seems
superficial to us. The Chinaman, however, is profound, per-
haps the prof oundest of all men. No one is rooted so deeply in
the order of nature, no one is so essentially moral; and ex-
ternals mean to no one as much as they do to him. only pro-
found men are capable of taking forms so seriously,
But the quality which gives its unique weight to Chinese pro-
fundity is that it is profundity ^turned flesh j it is, as it were,
spiritualised gravity* The spirit of the masterpieces of early
Chinese art wears a more powerful body than anywhere else*
How overpowering is the oppression produced by early Chinese
images of Buddha! They breathe a measure of strength which
a god would have to possess in order to appear as a god upon
earth. Something of this power is innate in every Chinaman.
China as a whole, however, is inspired by it through and
through.
^ Whoever wants to do justice to China must keep in his
mind's eye simultaneously its chmoi$ene > the greatness of the
empire and the fundamental vital power of its inhabitants. He
must survey Chinese courtesy together with the grandeur of
Chinese nature. How little does intrinsic greatness, after all,
CHAP.40 THROUGH SHANTUNG 69
depend upon the accident of opportunities for ｅxpression!
This greatness is solely determined by being. China has re-
mained great although it has generally been vanquished in
war, although it has rarely been a strong political entity, and
would remain great even if one day it were to be dismem-
bered.
I am in Asia now. I am no longer in that Orient which ex-
tends from Greece via Egypt, Asia Minor and Persia, to India
and Southern China j I am in the Asia which begins in Russia
and comprehends all the people of this wide inland region in
one grandiose unity. Psychologically the Russian is more close-
ly related to the Indian than to the Chinaman; in many ways
the Russian soul is in tune with that of the old Indian 5 the fun-
damental relation to God and to nature of both peoples is the
same. But the background of the Russian, on the other hand,
is identical with that of the Chinaman. The background of all
Asiatics is that of concrete infinity, the infinity of space and of
time. That is something which no European, no Indian pos-
sesses. If one compares a distinguished German with a Rus-
sian of equal eminence, one is struck by the ampler background
against which the latter stands out: that is the Asiatic quality
in him. There is never more than his history behind the Euro-
pean, which, of course, when it is great, rich and significant,
gives him a relief which no other man possesses. But this
background is always a finite one, and the clearest contours do
not take the place of width. At the back of the Oriental stand
legends or fairy-tales: they represent more in so far as possi-
bility is always more than reality j it is less, as they are suscep-
tible of doubt. For this reason the Oriental seems always
somehow unreal j he produces the effect of a quasimodogenittt>$
who is simultaneously infinitely old. The background of the
Asiatic is immeasurable nature, the endless process of the world.
In this way the Indian has understood man, but his recogni-
tion has never been translated into life. Nature, which he
has understood so deeply, has hardly existed for him in con-
creto. How tremendously it exists for the Russian! No one
is so much at one with her as the simple Mujik, no artist has
represented man so plastically in his at-one-ness with the whole
70 CHINA PART v
of life as Leo Tolstoy. The delicate soul of the Slav is in
immediate sympathy with the universe which serves as its back-
ground. The matter-of-fact Chinaman possesses no capacity
for sympathy in this sense j but his living ^background is the
same. In his case, the case of the social genius, the feeling for
the world's significance manifests itself in the regulation of life.
Who else would ever have hit upon the idea of conceiving as
one indivisible whole the ceremonies performed by the Sou of
Heaven, and the alternation of the seasons of the year as the
normal evolution of social life? Who else has understood the
latter with anything like equal profundity? To the Chinaman,
in his own way, it seems self-evident that everything is corre-
lated- The Asiatics have never regarded man and nature as
alien, they have conceived the former as a part of the latter.
How moving it is in Anna Karenina that the death of the hero-
ine is not judged and presented in any other way than the previ-
ous death of the noble race-horse! How much style does its
non-anthropomorphic character give to Chinese art! While a
picture of exceeding beauty is produced when nature appears
projected upon the surface as it was by Homer and Goethe,
greater depth of insight is required not to differentiate between
man and nature, and to understand both from within as an in-
dissoluble whole.
41
TSI NAN FU
tefore have such impressive pictures of country life
i been unfolded before me as on this journey through inner
China. Every inch of soil is in cultivation, carefully manured,
well and professionally tilled, right up to the highest tops
of the hills, which, like the pyramids of Egypt, slope down in
artificial terraces. The villages, built of clay and surrounded by
clay walls, have the effect of natural forms in this landscape:
they hardly stand out against the brown background- And
wherever I cast my eyes, I see the peasants at work, methodi-
cally, thoughtfully, contentedly. It is they who everywhere
CHAP.4I TSI NAN FU 71
give life to the wide plain. The blue of their jerkins is as much
a part of the picture as the green of the tilled fields and the
bright yellow of the dried-up river-beds. one cannot even
imagine this flat land devoid of the enlivening presence of these
yellow human beings. And it represents at the same time one
great cemetery of immeasurable vastness. There is hardly a
plot of ground which does not carry numerous grave mounds;
again and again the plough must piously wend its way between
the tombstones. There is no other peasantry in the world which
gives such an impression of absolute genuineness and of belong-
ing so much to the soil. Here the whole of life and the whole
of death takes place on the inherited ground. Man belongs
to the soil, not the soil to man} it will never let its children
go. However much they may increase in number, they remain
upon it, wringing from Nature her scanty gifts by ever more
assiduous labour ; and when they are dead, they return in child-
like confidence to what is to them the real womb of their
mother. And there they continue to live for evermore. The
Chinese peasant, like the prehistoric Greek, believes in the life
of what seems dead to us. The soil exhales the spirit of his
ancestors, it is they who repay his labour and who punish him
for his omissions. Thus, the inherited fields are at the same
time his history, his memory, his reminiscences j he can deny it
as little as he can deny himself j for he is only a part of it.
What do all the country idylls, from the Georgics to Her-
mann und Dorothea, amount to by the side of this epopee?
I am reminded of Laotse's stanza:
Man has the earth for image,
The earth has the sky for image,
The sky has significance for image,
And significance has itself for image.
According to Chinese conceptions, heaven and earth, the
events of the world and the life of men, morality and the nor-
mal course of nature, form one single connected whole.
Heaven stands above the earth, and the earth stands above men.
The peasant is the man who is most strictly subjected to it. But
72 CHINA PART v
for this very reason he forms the basis of the whole. If he
does not carry out his duty rigidly, then the state, as well as
heaven, begins to totter. He thus acquires a dignity possessed
by no other being in the world. Every political philosophy will
credit the peasant with dignity; the highest is always borne
by the lowest, the most highly differentiated by the amorphous
mass; this is in the nature of things. For the Chinese, however,
this dignity has a special and very wonderful significance; their
spirit stipulates a living and not merely a mechanical connection
between every part of the universe and as a result the highest
appears not only based, but mirrored, in the lowest; the Chi-
nese peasant could, if he knew how to think and feel, regard
himself as the bearer of heaven. Where else has the dull ex-
istence of the mass been raised to the mirror of conscious
wisdom? Where else has the instinctive routine of life been
elevated to the image of spiritual harmony? This implies an
organisation of life which has never been excelled in signifi-
cance. And this great significance has, as always happens when
it is truly great, even transfigured appearance where it was
hardly understood. The connection which Chinese mythology
postulates is actually realised in life. The differentiated
organs, in particular the emperors, have failed frequently: the
Chinese peasant has always been, and is to-day, exactly as he
ought to be. This shows one to what an extent it lies within
the power of the mind to raise the world above itself. How
blind those naturalists are who deny and reject ideals which
cannot be proved to be originally in accordance with nature:
whether they are originally in accordance with her or not,
they can become so. Spirit sows its ideals into matter, and
when the seed has sprung up and become mature, then the
whole world appears transformed,
We Europeans are far ahead of China in the control of na-
ture, but life, as a conscious part of it, has found there its high-
est ｅxpression hitherto. And, after all, we are parts of nature;
whether as rulers or as subjects the fundamental synthesis
remains the same* The Chinaman is fully conscious of this
synthesis, and we are not; to this extent he stands above us.
CHAP. 42 P E K I N 73
42
PEKIN
I SPENT my first hours of the late afternoon in Pekin at the
Temple of Heaven* The gigantic marble altar towers up
from the wide, desolate expanse of sand, surrounded by a few
dusky pines* Every now and again one hears the cawing of
a croW5 the district is as if deserted by man. one feels that
history interferes here only at the turning-point of events.
The building is exceedingly sober, but of marvellously noble
proportions. Its pure and spiritualised beauty is most impres-
sive in the midst of these wild surroundings. It draws the
spirit away from what is physically powerful and oppressive
and points it irresistibly upwards towards heaven. All over the
snowy stone the emblem of the dragon has been chiselled. The
dragon is the primary image of the beginning of creation, the
first ethereal form into which significance has been condensed.
The dragon is the symbol of all-penetrating, omnipresent
fluidity, of eternal rejuvenation, of perpetual change j it is the
symbol of the first principle of the soul, and therefore of
eternity. It is the spirit of the dragon which has erected the
Temple of Heaven j it is a springboard from which to reach the
sky, not a symbol of earthly gravity.
I was in the right mood when I came. The picture of peas-
ant-life on the way there had prepared me for the full under-
standing of that which represents the extreme human link in
the cosmic cohesion. The emperor upon the dragon throne is,
as emperor, more than a man: he is the tie which unites heaven
and earth, just as the peasant is the link which joins the earth
to man. Thus he bears the responsibility for nature. A well-
observed ritual vouches for the normal sequence of the seasons
of the year j if the rain which the farmer needs comes too late,
then the emperor must do penance remorsefully. His might
and his position vouch for the harmonious function of creation,
his character vouches for that of his ministers, his behaviour
for that of his subjects. Thus, his right of autocracy is simul-
taneously all-embracing responsibility which conditions and
74 CHINA PART v
limits him strictly. He is responsible not only to God, like
the European autocrats of long ago, who could rule men
according to their whims, he is not responsible only to men in
the modern sense: he is responsible in the sense of the main
mechanism of a watch. If the watch goes badly, the fault is
always apparent in the main mechanism, but not in such a way
that the watch might go badly and that its main wheel might
fail, but feel quite comfortable for the rest: if the main
mechanism is out of order, then it suffers first; it comes to a
standstill by itself or else it breaks. Thus the dynasty which
does not know how to rule must disappear^sooner or later it
will either die out of its own accord, or it will be removed.
What a wonderful conception ! How infinitely higher than
the conceptions of rule by divine Right, of God's vicarage, or
that of the divine character of the ruler, such as the Roman
Csesars arrogated to themselves! It is the only conception
which has solved satisfactorily the problem of the co-existence
of absolute sovereignty with absolute practical responsibility.
The Son of Heaven is mightier than any prince, for he even
stands above Nature. But at the same time, he seems as
limited as any responsible minister in a modern democracy, for
he only signifies a special organ of a body which is cohesive on
all sides, and in order to exist and to operate he is dependent
upon all the other organs* Thus, the autocrat must allow him-
self to be advised by the wisest of the nation, he must take the
will of the people into consideration and strive unswervingly
after good. If he reigns from motives of selfishness, he thus
cuts off his own possibility of existence. This marvellous con-
ception of the calling and the position of a ruler of men is the
logical consequence of that general outlook on the world which
characterises the Chinese more than anything else. According
to this view, the laws of morality and nature belong to one
single unified system. Identical laws rule moral behaviour,^ the
sequence of the seasons and the change of day and night; it is
a single, all-embracing cohesion, which rounds off into har-
monious unity the non-human and the human, the organic and
the inorganic, the natural and the moral qualities. Moral
force, however, is the primary one! The Tao is qualified
CHAP. 42 P E K I N 75
morally. Morality really means self-realisation. Accord-
ingly, nature stands in danger o sinking back from cosmos
into chaos if men fail to do their natural duty if the father
is not a good father, the husband not a good husband, the ruler
not a good ruler, the subject not a good subject and if -they do
not practise assiduously the five heavenly virtues (justice, mag-
nanimity, politeness, insight and the faithful execution of
duty). Thus even no emperor has the right to change anything
in the existing order if his moral character does not qualify him
for this task. on the other hand, if his character is as it should
be, then everything runs smoothly of its own accord. In the
Chong-yong it is written: 'No sooner has the Emperor set his
person in order than all duties towards him are fulfilled, no
sooner does he pay due reverence to the wise men than he will
differentiate with unerring correctness between error and truth,
good and evil} no sooner does he show to his parents the love
which he owes them than all strife will cease between his uncles,
between his older and his younger brothers} as soon as he hon-
ours his ministers according to their deserts, the business of
state will prosper} as soon as he treats his subordinate officials
correctly, the literati will fulfil their functions at the cere-
monies with appropriate zeal. As soon as he loves his people
like his son, this people will strive to emulate him} as soon
as he has gathered together scholars and artists at his court,
his riches will be put to the right use; as soon as he receives
strange visitors in a friendly manner, men will flow together
from the four corners of the world in his empire in order
to participate in its blessings.' Moral force is the fundamental
force of the world} as soon as it can assert itself duly every-
thing else is regulated of its own accord. Kant spoke of two
things which filled his heart with ever-new reverence: the
starry sky above him and the moral law within him. For the
Chinese the heavenly cosmos itself is an ｅxpression of moral
law.
It seems absurd to us to find one denomination for the laws
of nature, which are fulfilled necessarily whenever anything
happens, and for moral commandments which ought to be
fulfilled but which are generally disregarded. In connection
76 CHINA PART v
with this it must be remembered that the Chinaman who be-
lieves in this conception of the world does not know any laws
of nature in our sense of the word j he judges from the point of
view of the farmer, according to whose typical view Nature
fails in her duties more frequently than she fulfils themj in-
animate activity is predetermined no more simply for him than
the actions of living beings, which demonstrably take this or a
different course according to the character of the men con-
cerned. Thus it is by no means irrational that he traces the
order of the world and the order among men back to a common
cause.
Moral force as the primary force of the world manifests
its influence directly; particular action is not required. There-
fore, it is handed down concerning the greatest emperors of
China that they did not rule. Kung-Fu-Tse said: Sublime
was the way in which Shun and Yu ruled the earth, without
doing anything to it. Laotse:
If a very great man rules, then the people only know that he
is there,
Lesser men are loved and praised, still lesser men are feared,
Still lesser men are despised.
If one does not trust enough,
one does not meet with trust.
How thoughtful they were in the choice of their words!
Tasks were accomplished, work was done,
And all the people thought:
*We are independent/
Moral value is all that the true ruler needs for government.
Even the convulsed China of to-day is in reality ruled only by
moral prestige and by the general reverence of the people for
that which stands above them. How insignificant is its machin-
ery! The Mandarins have at their disposal neither military
force nor police in order to carry out their orders, which are yet
obeyed most readily. The prestige of their dignity is sufficient,
CHAP. 42 P E K I N 77
for it is presupposed that it corresponds to their value, and
that it guarantees the reverence for what stands below them.
How marvellous is the idea of such a government! It is the
highest which can be conceived. If a people were perfectly
cultured, no institutions would be needed, for everything would
adjust itself of its own accord. The more cultured a people is
the more can it rely upon the value of the individual, the less
does it require any machinery. In England the judges are real
independent rulers; they create the law; and this system has
proved its worth because the men concerned stand on the
necessary level. In Germany such powers cannot yet be given
to the judges; strictly defined rules are necessary there. In
Russia control of each application and interpretation of justice
is required. In China the feeling for morality has gained the
greatest development hitherto; it is the fundamental trait of
this nation. And there, in idea at any rate, conditions are pos-
sible which seem superhuman to the Westerner.
Is there no machinery which a ruler necessarily requires for
purposes of government? Yes; the machinery he requires con-
sists in the rites. And here, wonderfully profound, the eter-
nally human ends once more in chinoiserie. No authorities,
and hardly any laws, are necessary; all life is organised of its
own accord. But if the emperor should commit an error of
etiquette during the great annual sacrifice on the altar of
heaven, then even the best-regulated world would suddenly be-
come chaotic.
THE streets of Pekin are not as beautiful or picturesque
as those of the metropolises of Southern and Central China.
They are on a grander scale to make up for it (which does not
only refer to physical breadth), and the air of the steppes
blows through them. The spirit of Jenghis-Khan, of the great
Manchu and Tartar conquerors, not that of the Chinese literati,
has given this town its character; its effect is therefore power-
ful and austere. Pekin is, above all, an Imperial city: this
makes it seem more like Delhi and St. Petersburg than the
nearby Tientsin and Tsi-Nan Fu.
78 CHINA PART v
These, gigantic gateways, these massi\ r e walls, these towering
palaces and pagodas are an equal number of tokens of the seat
of rulers. As I wander along the great distances which separate
monument from monument and take in the greatness of the
spirit of Chinese imperial power, I am overcome by an increas-
ingly hostile mood against the new republican state. How out
of place it is here! Why have the Chinese introduced it?
They will not become freer by itj America is not as free as
they were. The local community, the social atom of China,
was absolutely independent in its management. It chose its
own leaders, attended to its own business, and hardly paid any
regular ta>z;es at allj the sums which the Mandarins from time
to time squeezed out of them were inimitesimally small com-
pared with what they will have to find regularly in future.
The old government did not interfere at all in the daily life
of its subjects; it remained inactive until action appeared
absolutely necessary. Then, of course, it did often prove itself
unjust, extortionate and cruel, but this was due to the individ-
ual officials, not to the principle, which, as such, was admirable.
There were, moreover, in monarchic China no privileged
classes, no aristocracy} for thousands of years every individual
had an open road to the highest offices. Nowhere else in the
world was government less oppressive, in fact it was hardly
noticeable, and nowhere have fewer official difficulties crossed
the path of private initiative. The fact that the individual in
China was, in spite of it, less free than in our world, was due
to the inherited social order, not to the system of government,
and if the former was to be changed, this could have been done
just as well or just as badly under the old regime. Why,
then, the revolution? I suppose it was necessary, for the
Manchus had exhausted the range of their possibilities: they
had come to a point at which the spirit of the Chinese constitu-
tion directly demanded a change of dynasty. It is inevitable
in a system whose efficiency is guaranteed exclusively by the
quality of its representatives that as soon as the latter deteri-
orates the most undesirable conditions soon manifest them-
selves. For whether it is right or not that a good ruler is
necessarily served by good officials it is certain that a bad em-
CHAP. 42 P E K I N 79
peror, under the Chinese form of government, inevitably drives
the state coach astray, for here there is no fixed machinery
which could hold personal circumstances in balance. Thus a
revolution had to come. But the fact that this revolution meant
more than the usual crises in the Chinese organism, that it led
to the collapse of the whole system, is due to external circum-
stances, especially to the infectious example of the West. And
it will inevitably turn out to the disadvantage of the Chinese
people if their common sense and their profound social and
political culture do not prevent them from emulating the mis-
takes of the West,
I am not an enemy of the idea of a republic. I admit uncon-
ditionally that if people were perfectly cultured it would em-
body the best of all forms of the state. But at the stage at
which even the most advanced peoples of our day have arrived,
it leads to the opposite of that which it is to bring about: to the
rule of the incompetent, instead of that of the best; to enslave-
ment in the place of liberation; and instead of raising the
general level it lowers it.
It does not bring about rule by the best elements because the
uncultured individual is never inclined to recognise that any one
is superior to him. He prefers to choose a man for his lord
whose equal he considers himself to be; just as the Americans,
with refreshing candour, admit openly that they do not wish
to have distinguished representatives in their Congress, because
such men would not represent the people. only the prominent
individual, who is not more important but more cunning than
his electors, the demagogue, the intriguer, the opportunist, has
any hope of gaining command of the rudder in a republican
regime. Therefore, the leaders of such states lack precisely
what the cardinal virtues of the ruler consist of: superiority.
They are never free inwardly, they never have the calm power
of surveillance which distinguishes the born leader of men.
They simply are not independent, they have to ingratiate them-
selves with the electorate and the Press. And what is already
true of the chiefs applies, in an even higher degree, to their
followers. Robert de Jouvenel, in his very amusing book
La republique des camarades> has shown that the French Par-
8o CHINA PART v
liamcnt of to-day does not represent the people in any way,
but that it is a completely independent parasitical organism
which lives in its midst, whose component parts arc, on the
other hand, absolutely dependent upon each other and must,
therefore, consider each other in the first instance j hence they
are only exceptionally in a position to think of the welfare
of the state at all: in principle the same is true of all republics,
and it is only a question of time how far the principle becomes
actualised. Superiority and independence are not, so long as
men remain what they are to-day, capable of continued exist-
ence in republics.
I said, moreover, that the republican form of government
brings about, not liberation, but enslavement. Its introduction
involved everywhere, originally, liberation from some kind of
slavery, but only in order to result in a new and more evil
variety* All republicans start from the false assumption that
men are originally equal 5 thus the feeling for superiority in the
citizens of such communities is eradicated artificially. The
wise man possesses no more prestige than the average person,
the distinguished personality no more than the plebeian. A
responsible post is not given to the man who by nature is fitted
for it, but to any one at random, or to a man of cunning, Thus
personalities offer no guarantee for the functioning of the
body of the state. What is to be done? The dead machine
must be strengthened j it must vouch for everything which
would otherwise be due to the intrinsic value of human
beings. For this reason we find extreme democracies marked
without exception by the machine-like quality of their activity.
I wrote yesterday that the significance of a political system was
in direct relation to the lack of culture of the subjects; whereas
the English judge creates laws, the German may only apply
them. Accordingly, the machinery seems absolutely omnip-
otent in extreme democracies, where the best individuals can
hardly make themselves felt. This is notably the case in the
North American republic. There the caucus possesses more
power than any Asiatic despot, and as the machine has no soul
its tyranny is worse than that of the most cruel autocrat.
The third point is the lowering of the level which republic-
CHAP. 42 PEKIN 81
anism inevitably brings about; it results almost completely
from what has been considered already. While incompetence
is esteemed as much as competence, while the feeling for supe-
riority becomes blunted and every one is ready to grant leader-
ship only to his equals, superiority actually retrogresses and the
general level falls to that of the lower elements ; all the more
so as the examples of a higher life become progressively more
rare, and the supply of ideally minded citizens becomes re-
duced. The development of as great superiority as existed in
aristocratic periods is not possible in democratic communities
and this includes to-day all the states, even with a monarch-
ical government because wherever the masses are considered
at all, very great individuals are not able to exist; but in mon-
archies the level does not descend as far as in republics, where
every one may have his say. Here the mass omnipotently
creates the spirit of the age, and as it is this spirit which is com-
municated to each new generation, it is inevitable that each suc-
ceeding generation becomes more trivial than the preceding one.
There is another weighty consideration against republics: it is
related to the right of each individual to partake in political
decisions. The interest in politics is elevating only to the
man who regards it as a great ideal task, that is to say the born
ruler, the professional statesman, and the all too rare citizen
with a real sense for the commonweal; all other people are de-
teriorated by it. Why? In small things every one is mean; per-
sonal interests determine his action. As a co-ruler of a re-
public, the individual becomes mean on a large scale. He sees
personal interest everywhere and acts accordingly. Under ab-
solute rule it does not pay the private individual to concern
himself with the larger issues of politics. For this reason
self-interest there flourishes least; even in the most constitu-
tional monarchy, there must be a few problems which do not
concern him. In a republic, every one partakes in decisions
about everything.
CHINA was free and will become enslaved, the level of the
people will sink, and the 'canaille' will take the place of the
82 CHINA PART v
intelligentsia unless China, happier than Europe and America,
evades the danger at the last moment. How f oolish^ it is to
hope for a rise in the general level from the introduction of a
republic! Of course, the difference between a coolie and a
Mandarin is inordinate, and the former must be raised. But
this will certainly not be brought about by emancipating him
suddenly and allowing him to outvote his superiors. And even
if intellectual development is to gain, moral development will
certainly lose. But moral education is the most important fac-
tor for every people, and the Chinese of all nations possess this
quality in the greatest measure. How superior the coolie seems
in this way to the haughty foreigner whom he carries and drives
about! Or the hungry peasant to the missionary who pre-
sumes to preach to him! How superior, above all, is the Man-
darin of the old regime compared with the impudent young-
sters who are at the head of the empire to-day! I think back
to the days which I spent in Tsing-tau with the exiled leaders
of bygone times: there was hardly one among them who, in
spite of all his possible faults, could not be regarded as morally
thoroughly cultured $ who to this extent did not seem fitted to
occupy a prominent position. Not long ago they were rich and
mighty, now they are homeless and poor, and yet they bear
their fate with smiling equanimity. I have seen them in
despair, and even in tears: but that was out of sadness at the
end of the great civilisation of China which they saw approach-
ing. * .
A FRANTIC sandstorm is ragingj the sand-drift fills the
streets. The Mongols whip their mules in order to reach a
place of refuge more quickly; the Chinese in the rickshaws wear
sheets in front of their eyes which cling, under pressure of the
sand-laden wind, like dirty grease paint to their faces. There
is no possibility of going to see anything. I spend my time in
reading the history of Tsu-Hsi, the great dowager empress.
This empress, who, according to our standard, was the most
horrifying, ruthless tyrant, to whom men were no more sacred
than flies, who had one of her ladies-in-waiting drowned with-
CHAP. 42 P E K I N 83
out further ado because her entrance had disturbed her while
painting was regarded by her people as a kind-hearted, in
fact as an all too kind, female; I heard this opinion only to-day
from a Mandarin who had served under her. Undoubtedly
she possessed a big nature, and big people are never bad; she
intended the best, she fulfilled her duties as a ruler to the best
of her conscience; the great traditions of ancient China were
alive in her to an extraordinary degree. She was a masterful
regent, a marvellous connoisseur of men, simultaneously a real
artist and perfectly educated in classic literature. And yet
one cannot say that she was good; she was a dragon, not a lamb.
That she continues to live beneath the halo of kind-heartedness
is very significant, for it has undoubtedly deeper causes than
that typical metamorphosis wrought by memory, thanks to
which even Napoleon is occasionally praised as a good and
kindly person.
The main cause of this is probably the psychological intui-
tion, the feeling for the essence of a human being which char-
acterises all Asiatics and above all the Chinese. From the
moment I reached India I had to admire the certainty with
which the Easterner applies an appropriate gauge to every one
instinctively. This ability is due, in general (if I disregard
special empirical conditions), to his belief in types; for we too
were better psychologists as long as we looked primarily not
for the special components but for the type of a soul. For the
man who does so must perceive synthetically, he must see the
individual elements in their correlation, and this correlation
must appear as primary compared with its elements. Thus, the
intelligent Asiatic takes it as a matter of course that he judges
the actions of another man, not by himself, but according to
what they mean in reference to the man concerned. The mind
of Tsu-Hsi was undoubtedly noble. She committed murder
either because it seemed to her politically necessary, or because
she did not see anything evil in it (no Chinese regards the
process of conveying people from life to death as anything
extraordinary), or finally, because she had not learned to resist
her impulses* Her subjects had complete understanding for
these circumstances. They understood that violence, in the case
84 CHINA PART v
of people in the higher and the highest positions, does not nec-
essarily mean more than an angry shrug of the shoulders in the
case of a lowly individual. They knew, moreover, how diffi-
cult it is to remain controlled in the fulness of power, and they
therefore made less demands upon their emperors than upon
their equals. The Chinese are tolerant from understanding,
tolerant to the point of lack of character. This explains why
precisely this people, whose world philosophy rests on a moral
basis more than that of any other, who recognise no one as
juridically fit to govern unless he is also morally qualified for
the task, nevertheless tolerate more bad government in prac-
tice than any other nation of a comparable level of civilisa-
tion. The Chinese do not believe that men can be perfect;
they doubt the possibility of the flawless functioning of any
institution. They look sceptically upon any improvement} they
take it as a fact that high officials incline towards violation and
low ones towards chicanery, and they are content if abuses and
evils do not exceed a certain limit, which they silently recog-
nise as inevitable. What a high official said to me the other
day with regard to the famous 'squeeze' was very characteristic:
one should differentiate between 'pure squeeze* and 'dirty
squeeze*; the man who extorted only as much as he needed to
keep himself in decency (for the official salaries are insufficient
for this purpose) could not be reproached at allj and only he
was evil who exceeded the reasonable minimum. The Chinese
find their very corrupt regime bearable just because they under-
stand so much and expect so little of men* They place signif-
icance everywhere above fact. For this reason their system, no
matter how badly it works in practice, seems to them better than
ours, whose practical advantages they do not deny, because the
significance of theirs is on a higher level. Theirs is based upon
a moral foundation, ours is not 5 and this is the decisive con-
sideration. Whether the officials are actually moral has little
to do with the matter, however desirable it would be. And
finally, they demand of their government, in the last instance,
only one thing: authority. Authority pure and simple. This
is the logical consequence of their ideal of non-government.
Any authority is better than none at all, and a bad one is better
CHAP. 42 P E K 1 N 85
than a good one in so far as it is better justified according to its
meaning.
The boundless respect of the Chinese for law and order
brings with it simultaneously a surrender to occasional irregu-
larities. It cannot be denied that experience speaks for, not
against, the appropriateness of this point of view. In this
gigantic empire, in which radical measures have never yet
been taken against existing abuses, more continuous order has
reigned on the whole than in all states managed with greater
energy; in this country without police, with authorities of
dubious integrity, there is on the whole less theft, murder,
breach of faith, quarrels and bickerings than in the well-
organised German Empire. Nevertheless, I must agree with
those who find most unsympathetic the peculiarities of the
Chinese who guarantee the functioning of this state. The
Chinese middle classes lack moral courage, they seem utterly
incapable of heroism 5 they never risk their own skins; they
prefer to tell a lie rather than speak the truth if the truth
could cause them any inconvenience. The Chinese is the proto-
type of the utilitarian. And he is consciously proud of the
fact. This is true not only of the bourgeois: Laotse says of the
masters of antiquity:
Hesitating like the man who traverses a river in winter,
Cautious as the man who fears his neighbours on all sides,
Reticent, like visitors,
Simple, like unused material,
They were wide as profundity,
They were impenetrable as opacity-
And further:
It is their nature to love retreating.
The so-called noble and gallant virtues cannot flourish where
the world is regarded as unchangeable and where harmony a
tout p-isc means the ideal. The man who professes a static
conception of the world is not ready to face death for any ideal,
86 CHINA PARTV
he does not strive to change the world, he only takes given data
into account. He who thinks and acts in this way can certainly
not be noble. Is it not profoundly ironical that it is the Chinese
who, precisely thanks to his unsympathetic peculiarities, has
given the highest example of social order, attained the greatest
social culture, and literally solved the social question for
a long period? Will not 'progress' make us also progressively
less noble, since growing order and security of life must also
increase the value of the ideal of security?
NO, the new system as such will not regenerate China. It has
been shown that the condition of France has hardly changed at
all, in spite of all revolutions and alterations in its regime, since
the days of Louis XIV, and the fundamental thesis of Gustave
Le Bon's philosophy of history, that f les peuples sont gouver-
nes, non par leurs institutions mais par leur caractere, 1 ex-
presses a fundamental truth of general validity. The abuses
in China can only be removed by the spirit of its possible per-
fection j its own specific perfection, not that of a foreign
civilisation. It may well take over our machinery, our institu-
tions, our schools, our methods j they will do good service even
in China. But they will only do so when it is found possible to
bring them into inner relation with the spirit of China's ancient
culture.
It becomes clearer to me every day that if China is in need
of reform it is not because of the old system as such, but be-
cause the old spirit has disappeared from it. No matter
whether an ideal state of affairs ever existed such as is tradi-
tionally reported of the days of Yao, Shun and Yu even
Confucius and Mencius complained of decadence! China has
for centuries been nearer to its ideals than any historical nation,
and the spirit which made this possible once upon a time is
still alive within it to-day. only it has grown exceedingly
weak. The most distinguished Chinese are too highly bredj
they lack virile strength ; they wail and moan where they ought
to act. At the same time, what a difference lies between
them and the class whom the revolution has placed at the helm!
CHAP. 42 P E K I N 87
These are without any moral basis, without roots in the pro-
f oundest sense of the word. They lack, like the Russian anar-
chists and nihilists, all sense of historical evolution, and they
will therefore be able to destroy, but never to build up again.
A regeneration of China, I am convinced, is conceivable only
in the spirit of Confucianism. May God grant that it still
possesses the requisite strength!
Unfortunately, the spirit of Confucianism, which preserves
what exists at its highest level like no other, is very little suited
to renovation. I lunched yesterday with an old priest, who was
glowing with enthusiasm for his religion, who saw in it the
salvation of the whole of mankind, and who traced the down-
fall of China exclusively to the deterioration of Confucianism*
I suggested to him that he should step forth and shake the
people from their coma with inspiring words. He replied
that he was not fitted for such a taskj this was the business of
the emperor and of the highest authorities; the condition into
which he had been born confined his attention to the faithful
fulfilment of his duties towards his parents and his family.
And, he added, if all sons showed their fathers' piety, then
everything else would work perfectly of its own accord. once
more this hopelessly static attitude, according to which every-
thing in the world is in perfect equilibrium, and which cannot
even conceive of an accelerating motive, a motive which might
transmute a low condition of equilibrium into a higher one!
How is the world to be rejuvenated subject to such assump-
tions? It can only be regenerated of its own accord. If every
one fulfils his immediate duty, a molecular transposition is
brought about in the system of the world which slowly leads
to the highest condition of equilibrium. This path has all the
advantages of a process of growth} once it has led to a maxi-
mum of good results, then this stands on a firmer basis than
could be brought about by any other method j hence the in-
credible length of the great periods in China, hence the mar-
vellously solid structure of the Chinese state even to-day. But
such a process requires a tremendous amount of time, while,
under modern conditions, all development, thanks to the record
established by Europe and to the new circumstances which its
88 CHINA PARTY
influence has created, must take place very rapidly if it is to
lead to any goal at all; in fact, the mere possibility of its per-
fection in such circumstances is questionable. What, then, is
to be done? I am certain that the process of rejuvenation
should proceed from the spirit of Confucianism, in spite of
everything enumerated above; this spirit is rooted so deeply
and inwardly in the race that it would not be possible to sub-
stitute another for it. It would, moreover, be a crime ^ to
attempt its eradication, for in idea it is the highest which
has ever formed the basis of any society. Nothing more ideal
could be conceived than a community whose outer order was
entirely guaranteed by the moral culture of its members, in
which mechanical means were superfluous j this is not only the
early Chinese ideal, it is the ideal of humanity. We too will
one day, if God helps us, come to be regarded as Confucians in
this sense. But, of course, new and accelerating motives will
have to be embodied in traditional Confucianism.
This should not be incapable of execution, granted some
degree of insight on the part of the leaders. Confucius stands
at such an immeasurable height in the eyes of the people that
they would permit any further idealisation of him. In fact,
they would be highly satisfied if it were to be demonstrated to
them that the new ideas, whose efficacy for good they will not
be able to deny in the long run, are already laid down or pre-
conceived in the holy writings, and they will accept willingly
new truths which can be based upon old ones. Thus, it would
appear to be the foremost problem of the leaders of New
China to invoke the authority of Rung Fu Tse for all the re-
forms which they contemplate. Thanks to the aphoristic nature
of his dicta, this can easily be compassed technically; scruples
as to the facts will hardly arise because Confucianism, on the one
hand, will be rendered more profound thanks to the new inter-
pretation which will transfuse it with such an amount of
Indian and Christian wisdom, and, on the other hand, Western
practice will gain a moral foundation such as it never had here-
tofore, by reference to Confucian principles. They would,
of course, falsify history in advancing such a new interpreta-
tion: what does it matter? What progressive age has not
CHAP.42 PEKIN 89
acted similarly in so far as it still clung to the old ideals?
What has not become of Christianity in the course of history!
The religion of long-suffering has changed into one of ruth-
less action, the sweet, merciful Saviour has become the proto-
type of the modern self-determined personality! Every age
has attempted to harmonise its real ideal with the traditional
one, and this has always been achieved only by a falsification
of history. All innovators who want to resurrect the <reaP
Christ, from St. John to the prophets of New Thought, are
really falsifiers of history, because they translate their own
convictions, whatever their intention, into the helpless Past.
This is not a reproach which I make, quite the contrary: it is
impossible to take away man's historical roots; the man who
was born and educated in a Christian atmosphere is essentially
a Christian no matter what he believes in; he never escapes the
conceptions which formed his soul. But he interprets them in-
dependently if he wishes to safeguard his personality, and
brings them into harmony with the rest of his outlook on the
world.
In this sense, it ought not to be impossible to reform the
Chinese Empire from the spirit of Confucianism j only, as has
been said already, an accelerating motive must be embodied
into it. Can this be done successfully, seeing that nothing
characterises the Chinese more essentially than their decidedly
static outlook? European history proves that such metamor-
phoses take place. From the very beginning I was struck by
the similarity between the early Confucian and the Dearly
Lutheran types of men; they seemed to me to be really children
of the same spirit. As I pondered over this impression^ it
turned out to be well founded; both these world philosophies
are really closely related. The Lutheran view^ is also essen-
tially static, it too regards the existing classes as justified ^meta-
physically or 'divinely ordained 7 ; it too regards^ suffering as
more than action, patience as more than initiative, and the
attempt to strive beyond inherited position as criminal;^ it too
is a philosophy of endurance. Thus the Lutheran faith has
called to life similar advantages and similar weaknesses. Its
advantages were the culture of family life, of patriarchal
go
CHINA PART v
existence in general} its disadvantages were its inclination
towards reaction, its inability to give new forms to life, ^to
adapt itself to new circumstances, to change natural rigidity
into the power of tension by free initiative. But yet it was
Luther from whom originated a tendency which suffers in no
way from the weaknesses of Lutherism: Calvinistic Protestant-
ism. That is the religion of action $ar excellence, the greatest
stimulus to initiative, to progress, to self-reliant organisation of
life which has ever existed. No human type in the world is
comparable in efficacy with that of the reformed Protestant.
To-day this type is estranged from the Lutheran; yet it is its
true descendant; and in the very last instance both are still
one and the same. There is still a general spirit of Protes-
tantism of which both professions partake. By analogy with
this development I do not regard it as impossible that the
spirit of Confucianism will one day take on a form, thanks to
which the Chinese, without having to deny their history, will
come to be no less progressive than Americans and Scotsmen.
+
THE similarity between Confucians and Protestants is indeed
striking. The matter-of-factness and sensibleness of the
Chinese, their lack of plasticity, the dryness of their souls, are
to be found in an only slightly altered shape in Protestant
Europe and America. In both cases their conceptions of life
are based on a curious mixture of belief in authority and self-
determination; both types are marked by a noticeable lack of
differentiation in their souls, and an equally noticeable forma-
tive power with respect to the external world. The soul of a
cultured Catholic is, no matter how paradoxical this may sound
to the 'enlightened,' far richer than that of a Protestant; the
education by a system such as the Catholic, which takes into
account all the manifold influences of the soul and treats
them all with understanding, whose forms create content and
conversely produce a sense for form, cannot help developing
the soul; whereas the uncomplicated and crude dogmatic sub-
structure of Protestantism gives great moral support and a
unique stimulus to action, but very little self -recognition and
CHAP. 42 PEKIN 91
almost no psychic culture. The Chinaman is inferior to the
Indian precisely in the same respect as the Protestant is to the
Catholic. It is extremely tiresome to discuss psychological and
metaphysical problems with Chinamen. Again and again they
serve one with the first principles of Confucianism, just as
pastors do with the Augsburg confession; they seem to be
incapable of fixing their eyes upon psychic facts as such and of
realising that the metaphysical significance of manifestation is a
possible problem. Their understanding of religious problems
in particular is infinitesimal. The average Chinese religiosity
means, like the average Lutheran one, no more than firm belief
in certain revealed facts and strict observance of a definite
routine of life; genuine religious experience they do not know.
The Confucian Church also (so far as such a description is per-
missible), like the Lutheran, means essentially 'authority' and
nothing more. But, on the other hand, in the same respect as
the Protestants are superior to the Catholics, the Chinese are
to the Indians. I know few things more coarse, less spiritually
satisfying, than the religious dogmas of Calvinism j the 'faith
of the meanest Catholic peasant is spiritually higher than that
of a cultured Puritan; it has nevertheless created a type of man
who excels in moral value all other Christian types. The fact
is that what matters for practical life is not all-embracing
insight, but singleness of character, and such a character is most
readily produced by a simple doctrine. Thus, the Chinese
are so marvellously cultured morally, just because they have
troubled themselves so very little about the meaning of moral-
ity, and have instead allowed the Confucian principles, ^ which
express indeed eternal truths, to take complete possession of
them. Such a method no doubt makes people uninteresting,
but it makes them efficient.
So much for the problems of faith- As to the postulate of
self-determination, this applies in China no less than it does in
our case. only it seems to me that in the Confucian world it
enters into life at a higher level Among us the profession of
the ideal of autonomy easily takes the form of making men
refuse to recognise anything which they do not understand, for
which reason they reject the gradations of society and do not
92 CHINA PART v
accept the authority even of those who are demonstrably more
competent than they are. This psychic attitude is as derogatory
to culture as it is beneficial to the development of initiative 5 the
man who believes in no one except himself cuts himself off
from all the cultural influences which are included in the
experience of others j by breaking through the barriers which
nature has set to his aspirations (for it happens only very rarely
that a man is destined to greater ends than those which his
inherited position would admit of), he really closes the gate
which leads to his perfection, for perfection is only possible
within definite limits. For this reason, the most superstitious
Catholic is frequently on a higher cultural level than the so-
called enlightened individual. In China self-determination
always only means self-determination within given limits. The
Chinaman thinks for himself, judges for himself, acts as he
thinks right but only within a definite sphere. Any one who
hereupon should doubt his autonomy as a postulate of Chinese
consciousness should try to order a Chinese servant about in
the ordinary European way5 he will have little success. He
will discover that the Chinese servant, with all his respect-
fulness, with all his assiduity and faithfulness of service, only
does what seems right to himself j he does not really obey in our
sense: his position is that of a man who obeys, but within this
limit he is autonomous. In all details he wishes to decide what
he has to do and what to leave undone. The same applies,
mutatis mutandis, to all professions. In my opinion this estab-
lishes in principle the best conceivable equilibrium between
autonomy and heteronomy. Absolute autonomy belongs to
God alone. Man may only be self -determinate within limits
if his soul is not to take harm, and these limits appear ever more
restricted the more he descends from the highest stage to
low ones.
one must not attempt to carry the parallel between Confu-
cianism and Protestantism too farj perhaps I have gone too
far already} Ku Hung-Ming, of whom I have seen a great
deal of late, and who runs to excess in comparisons of this
kind as few others do, may have infected me. In con-
clusion, I should like to refer therefore to a few points in
CHAP. 42 P E K I N 93
reference to which Confucianism and Protestantism appear to
be quite incomparable. The former lacks the pathos which
belief in an almighty personal God has given to the life of
Protestants. No matter how heroic Confucians may be their
heroism has never that quality of grandeur which characterises
the devout Protestant and Moslem j even in the highest in-
stance, the case of the Confucian is rather that of a pedant's
obstinacy than of the sacrificial joy of great faith. This differ-
ence is so considerable that it would change the entire picture if
this pathos were not as much lacking in the Protestants of our
day as it is in the Chinese. . . . The second radical difference
between Confucianism and Protestantism is based upon the
inartistic character of the latter. Protestantism recognises no
connection between religious and artistic experience, creates
no necessary relation between content and its form of expres-
sion. Thus, the genuine Protestant has as a rule very little
sense for form. The Confucian possesses this sense perhaps
more than any other man. Thus I felt at home immediately
with the Mandarin, who lately accompanied me to the Buddhis-
tic cloisters and brought me to the verge of despair by his
lack of understanding of religious problems, as soon as I
discussed the problem of style with him in his house, to the
accompaniment of unending cups of tea.
I AM now living almost entirely like a Chinese; I have most
of my meals outside the Embassy quarter. The change in
itself does me good 5 an everlastingly identical mode of life
renders the physical organism philistine, robs the mind of its
agility. I am convinced, if the Hindus did not eat the same dish
of rice three times a day, they would not appear so stereotyped;
if change in itself were less curative, then such a great variety
of cures would not be efficacious; and the fact that we Euro-
peans feel the need for variety of food like no other race on
earth has undoubtedly a close connection with our inventive
impulses. one cannot of course deduce the peculiarity of a
nation from its specific diet, although there is no doubt a close
connection between them. The man who wants to escape
94 CHINA PART v
sensuousness loves vegetarian food, he who wishes to refine
his senses prefers animal and spiced food. And so on and so
forth. What is true in general applies no less in particular. I
have always found that it is advisable, when studying a nation,
to share their method of life as far as possible. And in China
this process is delightful.
My friends take me to those out-of-the-way gourmet restau-
rants which are as typical of Pekin as they are of Paris. only
the arrangements of the Chinese interiors possess more style.
They are very tiny cabinets $articuliers, generally^ offering a
view upon the surrounding hills, and are covered with pictures
and handwriting} in the room in which we feasted yesterday,
there were verses of Li Tai-Pes. This inn is said to have existed
since the days of the Ming Dynasty. No matter how this may
be, an atmosphere of refined culture predominates in it which
has changed me too into a gourmet. I listened intently to the
advice of the mdHtre frhotely who put the dishes together for
us as a poet chooses his words, and his pure culinary idealism
infected me irresistibly. Why should the palate be regarded
as less than the eye and the ear? A great cookjs creative in
the highest sense. How does he know, when he invents a new
dish, and when he mixes ingredients, tasteless enough in them-
selves, in never previously attempted combinations, that his
product will please strangers? How does he know what every
dish requires? Whence his knowledge that this goes with
that, considering that, as an eater, he has very little experience?
If that is not genius, then nothing is. Accordingly a great
cook nearly always professes decidedly the theory of Part pour
Part. This was actually the case with old Frederic in the now
sadly deteriorated Tour d'Argent, He waited on no one per-
sonally who was not specially recommended to him. He looked
down upon his customers, just as the painter looks down upon
his public, and he received me, when I visited him for the first
time, with the comment that he had, on the previous day, shown
a visitor to the door who had dared to order Burgundy with a
certain dish. . . . And the gourmet is he not, too, apprecia-
tive of art in the most ideal sense? There is no doubt that
CHAP. 42 P E K I N 95
humanity exaggerates the importance of vision and hearing.
one sense is as good as another j what matters is how much one
achieves by it, I can imagine that, through the organs o the
nose and the mouth, a perfect outlook on the world could be
gained which, in its own language, conveyed the equivalent of
the mysticism of Master Ekkehart. This is denied to us men
because even the greatest of chefs has never got his sense of
taste developed as his chief sense. But animals, of whom the
latter is true, for whom the sense of smell also means their
sense of distance, as in the case of dogs and stags, are probably
capable of this in principle. Let no one misunderstand this
state of affairs: if among us the gourmet as a type is below the
thinker, this is not due to the fact that he lives for his palate,
but to the fact that the palate conveys all too limited recogni-
tion. Even thought alone leads only exceptionally to the high-
est achievements} in fact, it makes most people more superficial,
more material, than they would have become without it.
I have spent most enjoyable hours in these restaurants. The
Chinese cuisine is exquisite, and equal in value to the French,
regarded from the artistic point of view. once we were served
duck six times in succession, and its preparation was so deli-
cately varied that it did not give the effect of repetition} while
I had to admire that dish above all as a technical masterpiece
which consisted chiefly of pickled jellyfish. How these unsub-
stantial creatures could be dressed is beyond me. . . . The
Chinese, of course, use materials which we are not accustomed
to, but this does not speak against them: every habit is a matter
of convention, and every adherence to habit is a limitation.
Thus I am ashamed that at first I shuddered at a dish of mag-
gots which afterwards turned out to be exceedingly delicious.
If only I did not have to drink so much! But I never guess
the riddles which are asked during meals, and it is the custom
of the country that the man who fails thus must drain the cup
of rice wine to the dregs time and again. And this lasts for
hours. Course follows upon course, riddle upon riddle, and
these gentlemen never tire in emulating each other in sagacity.
People like myself acquit themselves very poorly on such occa-
96 CHINA PART v
sions. The solving of Chinese riddles presupposes a delicacy
of mind and a capacity to guess the whole directly from the
slightest references, which probably no one possesses whose
power of combination has not been developed to an almost
improbable degree by constant occupation with Chinese writ-
ing. For what my companions achieved playfully seems quite
improbable. The solution of a riddle in reference to some
casual word is often to be found in an unimportant quotation
from the classics: it is solved without further ado, and gener-
ally by several people simultaneously. Men who know how
to handle their subjects thus playfully can be as scholarly as
you please they possess simultaneously vital minds and souls.
Yes, these gentlemen are vital, no matter what worthy mem-
bers of the Hamlin Academy they may be. Their expressive
eyes sparkle merrily, they seem indefatigable in their carousals,
and their laughter is so infectious, so seductive, that I join in
even when I do not know why.
A famous doctor related how some time ago he fell in love
with a sing-song girl. Eventually, life without her became
impossible} and when his worthy wife died soon afterwards,
he took the girl home. He now regards his house as a paradise.
While he devotes himself to his weighty studies, he is yet
constantly surrounded by her chirping gaiety, and just this
made his earnestness completely productive. A tear sparkles
in the old gentleman's eyes. No, the Chinese are not without
feeling.
How can the myth of the Chinese lack of feeling have come
to exist? I have never heard people talk more vivaciously or
laugh more heartily. The uncultured European always judges
the man who is master of himself as dry and cold; this often
happens to Englishmen. The truth is that the self -controlled
potentialise their capacities} the inner life of Englishmen is
not weaker but more intense (even if it is poorer) than that of
the German. In addition, only the man who is really in posses-
sion of himself can surrender himself truly. The Chinese, who
never lose their equanimity, know how to relax for this very
reason. And then their humour overflows and a thousand
forces bubble forth all of a sudden.
CHAP. 42 P E K I N 97
The Chinese feel no less deeply and richly, only differently
from ourselves. If they are wanting in Christian love for their
neighbour they possess instead a feeling for solidarity which
we do not know 5 our sympathy replaces the high culture of
reverence. If the Chinese show themselves occasionally to be
hard, cunning and cruel, they are, on the whole, much tamer
than we Westerners, to whom they have much the same re-
lation the comparison comes from Ku Hung-Ming as
domesticated animals have to wild ones. We appear to them as
typically heartless, coarse and cruel 5 from their point of view
no doubt they are right. But in the same sense we are right if
their inner life seems poor to us in several respects. They cer-
tainly do not know love, for instance, in our sense. I am think-
ing of the famous novel P^ing-Chan-Ling-Yen, in which calli-
graphic skill really plays the part of a love potion, of those
'willow studded streets' (the quarters of the ladies of pleasure)
within whose confines by far the greater portion of the Chinese
life of love takes place: to most of the Chinese, love means
about the same as it did to the men of European antiquity.
Even St. Augustine did not know the feelings which we regard
as belonging essentially to love. He knew desire, enjoyment,
the animalic pleasure of proximity 5 and probably he knew the
specific mental charm, the stimulating power, which women
radiate. But of love for a particular woman for her own sake,
he had no idea. But then; how many among us are capable
of love in this highest sense? Most of that of which we believe
that it lifts us above the rest of humanity is something which
we possess only in idea. . . .
+
MY Chinese friends are scandalised because I do not betray
any intention to marry: 'Surely you are not a wolf, no rapacious
animal, that you should dare to place yourself above the uni-
versal order! ' I reply to them that I would have married long
ago if I had been born into the world as a Chinaman, or even
as a European, if the problem with us were a comparable one.
But to-day that is not so. What should be a function of the
race, implies an individual problem for us, and the man who
98 CHINA PART v
cannot regard marriage like that, because his consciousness is
not capable of being centred in the instinct for mating, simply
does not marry.
In all seriousness: the new individualistic view of the mar-
riage problem implies a misunderstanding, and is in principle
beneath the Asiatic attitude. Procreation is a matter of racial
concern, and should be regulated in such a way that individual
preferences play no decisive part in it The problem would
be different if there were a necessary connection between the
latter and what is best for the species. But such a relation
exists only exceptionally. Unfortunately, it is not true that
children of love are necessarily valuable children for every
bastard who possesses genius there are a thousand mediocrities.
Unfortunately, it is not true that nature, as Schopenhauer
asserts, avails itself of personal inclinations in order to achieve
its higher purposes for it does not know higher purposes} it
cares nothing for the ennoblement of the human race. It does
seem as if incompatibility of husband and wife and even this
has not been proved quite conclusively exercises an un-
favourable influence upon their progeny. on the other hand,
it is absolutely certain that passionate inclination does not
guarantee that the children will turn out well. The individual
and the species do not coincide in this connection, their rela-
tion is rather one of polarity: the former increases at the ex-
pense of the latter, which, for its own part, flourishes at the
expense of the former} this is the meaning of the well-known
fact that great men rarely leave heirs, and that those races de-
generate last in whom the type dominates the individual. It
is from this angle of recognition that the marriage problem
should be attacked and -solved. This still happens in Asia.
Nothing could be wiser than to present marriage as a self-
evident duty which no one may evade, and in whose fulfilment
the wishes of the individual are not in question, while only the
good of the race should be considered} for by this means two
things are attained simultaneously: firstly, the certain continu-
ance of the race under the most favourable circumstances; and
here the family always has a clearer view than the personally
interested individual. The fact that marriage intermediaries
CHAP. 42 P E K I N 99
are good judges is proved beyond doubt by the incredible
longevity of Eastern families and by the rarity of the phenom-
enon of decadence. Secondly, however, to begin with, this
fundamental decision of the marriage problem against the con-
sideration of individual feeling removes all odium. If mar-
riage is regarded as a matter of course, as a stage upon the road
of life, then it hardly plays any part in the consciousness of the
individual 5 he does not put the question whether he is 'really'
absolutely happy, and for this reason he cannot become alto-
gether unhappy j as to the typical advantages of married life, he
will partake of them no less than under other assumptions; he
has a home, is free from the restlessness of the man whose
race-instincts remain unsatisfied, his consciousness is enlarged
in the care for his progeny. These typical advantages are
always the decisive ones for the individual, even if he concludes
his marriage subject to purely individualistic considerations.
Where, then, are the disadvantages of the Asiatic system?
They are obvious enough. A perfect marriage in the European
sense that continuous growing together hardly ever occurs
in the Far East. But we must think here on large lines: are
such marriages by any chance numerous among us? I have
only seen very few, but I have noticed all the more frequently
that the ideal of perfect wedlock has lowered the parties con-
cerned. When husband and wife deceive themselves into think-
ing that they are made for each other when this is not so, they
do not develop, they stunt one another; their consciousness
idealises what should not be idealised, commonplace ideals de-
termine the whole course of their life, and the eagle becomes a
mere cock-pigeon. For this reason, married men are so fre-
quently on a lower level than single ones, and even married
women are often less than maidens, no matter how contrary to
nature this seems. The Chinese, for whom the married estate
is no ideal but simply a matter of course, and who generally
proves himself to be an admirable father and husband, owing
to his peculiar sense for the order of nature, is never lessened
by being a married man. I once wrote: c He who procreates
himself renounces his personality* 1 ; this applies also to the
1 Vide the author's Unsterblichkeit, 3rd ed.
100 CHINA PART V
Chinese; but he renounces as little as can be renounced. As
married life appears to him to be a matter of course, it ^does
not fetter his consciousness. Though he grants more rights
to the species than we do, his individual consciousness is freer
from racial ties.
This, then, would appear to be the decisive factor which
must be adduced against our attitude towards the marriage
problem: while, on the one side, we raise matters of breeding
to the level of personal problems, we drag, on the other hand,
emancipated personal consciousness into that of the genus.
The result is absolutely negative. The race is badly preserved
in our case, degenerates or dies out, and the individual has
less freedom than in the East. It is surely a serious miscon-
ception to see, in the extraordinarily individualised modern
eroticism, for instance, a proof of heightened self -conscious-
ness: it would seem here, rather, as if racial instincts had been
raised unnaturally into the sphere of self -consciousness^ which
accordingly loses its own nature. Individualisation in this
sense is no sign of emancipation. The other day a French novel
fell into my hands: I can hardly say how shallow the typically
Western view of love seems against the background of the
East. The love for a particular sensuous being is to be the
meaning of life. . . . This is a terrible misconception, even in
the case of the purest love, and proves superficiality, even in
the case of the profoundest inclination. The Upanishad
teaches: c The husband is not dear for the husband's sake but
for the self's own sake.' And this doctrine, and not Western
romanticism, is right. Of course, a particular individual man
can be the exponent of the highest to another hereupon rests
the possible divinity of marital love but it remains in itself a
pure question of the species, and to make it into a personal one
can only be done at the expense of personality. Moreover,
experience teaches the man better than to treat generalities
individually. Most men with distinguished minds complain
that women do not do them justice in that capacity, but merely
as c famous' people or as productive, powerful beings, and
highly talented girls complain similarly that men only value
their typical qualities. The fact is that in sexual love the
CHAP. 42 P E K I N 101
species manifests itself; a personal view of this impulse implies
a metaphysical misconception* This does not occur often in
the East. For this reason, love has rarely produced such fair
blossoms there as among us; they flourish only where their
significance is overestimated, and personally I would be sorry
to miss them. But I am too honest to justify my preferences
objectively: I know, rather, that the view of the wise men of
the East, which accords to the species what is due to it, while
basing the self -consciousness in other spheres, is the higher and
more beneficial attitude.
... I HAVE read over what I have written, a day later. It
is correct, of course, rather more in idea than in practice, for
there is no doubt that our family life is above that of the
Chinese, because of our prof oundcr understanding of human
rights in general, and particularly of the dignity of women.
But it applies in idea. Our next duty would be to re-establish
on our higher level of individualisation the fundamental
relation between the genus and the individual which exists in
the East. The continuance of the species must not be per-
manently exposed to the caprice of inclination, for this would
inevitably lead to the extinction of the race. The days, of
course, are past in which man and woman could, like animals, be
brought together by the decision of an outside party, but they
must now learn to do from free choice what used to be done for
them. They must now learn to conduct the procreation of the
species as such from personal assumptions; they must unlearn
drawing consequences from individual inclinations, in which
they may otherwise indulge at pleasure, but which could harm
what is super-individual. It is possible to imagine a general
state of affairs in which men and women are so far developed
that they could differentiate at will between their personal ego
and that of their species, and in which, for this very reason,
they would be able to establish perfect harmony between the
two.
102 CHINA PART V
TO-DAY at last the spirit of Chinese classicism has taken
hold of me. There is no method of approach from the outside
to the spirit of a living culture, it is a monad without windows $
the man who has not been possessed by it will never acquire it.
And this spirit seems proportionately more exclusive as the
word has become flesh. It is just possible to understand
Protestantism without being converted to itj Catholicism is
only understood by him who has at any rate felt in a Catholic
way in certain moods ; in the same sense, French civilisation is
more exclusive than German culture. As to Chinese culture:
if any apparently abstract entity can lay claim to concrete
reality, then it is the 'spirit' of this culture. It is independent
to such a degree that the individuals who are animated by it
almost cease to be individuals: they give the effect of mere
representatives. What I had often experienced as a fact out-
side of myself became my personal experience this morning,
when I tarried, in the company of a scholar, learned in the
classics, in the temple of Kung Fu Tse.
In the courtyards of this temple, which are decorated by the
mortuary tablets of all the sages of the country, the great state
examinations have taken place ever since the Yuan Dynasty,
and the name of every one who passed them with honours is
handed down to posterity upon a stone tablet. Next door, in a
peaceful hall, the> works of the nine classics are engraved upon
the enduring marble. Every year in this very place the em-
peror used to read his own poems aloud. There is an atmos-
phere of culture in this place, of an intensity such as, to the
best of my belief, I have never known. It penetrated into my
being irresistibly. And as I entered into the soul of my literary
companion, who explained the monuments and descriptions to
me with a voice trembling with reverence, and who read to me
now and again, with eyes shining with enthusiasm, famous mes-
sages from the classics, I conjured up the spirit for which I had
been searching.
What a unique spirit! It is, no matter how unexpected it
may sound, the incarnate spirit of classical philology, and yet
it is no pale ghost, but quite a substantial creature, perhaps
the most solid that I have met with for a long time in this
CHAP. 43 P E K I N 103
sphere} its density seems to me to be considerably greater
than that of the scholar who serves as my intermediary. Here,
then, the spirit of a definite literary tradition has actually be-
come the soul of a vital section of men. I can turn whichever
way I like, I can strike whatever chords of my being I choose j
this spirit will not release me. I experience everything as the
ｅxpression, explanation, completion or illustration of classical
wisdom, and in the very form which makes its peculiar style.
And, strange to say, I should feel oppressed, but I cannot say
that I do j it seems to me as if my possibilities of experience
were not in any way restricted; they only seem to have taken
on a different colour. But no: of course I am confined within
narrower bounds, only I am no longer able to perceive it; I
have exchanged my normal consciousness against another one;
and I ought to know, as a philosopher, that the rose, from her
point of view, is not in a position to realise in what way she is
inferior to the violet. All that I can recognise immediately,
and what should stand the test of objective criticism, is that I
am infinitely more unequivocal than usual; I react to all im-
pressions according to a unified plan, all my ideas spring from
an identical source, and, above all, I find no hesitation what-
soever in the process of expressing myself: where as a rule I
search laboriously for corresponding forms, I now slip into
traditional forms instinctively, and I feel nevertheless that I
am expressing myself intrinsically, originally and personally.
This is a very significant experience: as far as its general
quality is concerned, it is not new to me: the spirit of Catholi-
cism possesses one in just this way. It too does not give to one's
consciousness new content but rather creates a new form of
consciousness; it too is so all-penetrating that it takes hold
of every impulse of the soul; it too has the power of leading
over all personal experiences into objective forms, so that even
the freest spirit does not feel necessarily tied by its dogmas,
while the most spontaneous and vital individual not infre-
quently finds a means of personal ｅxpression in the observance
of traditional ritual; this spirit too really creates a special
variety of men. But this is more intelligible in the case of
Catholicism, for its spirit represents an organism so highly
104 CHINA PART v
developed and so universally and delicately differentiated,
that it includes within it the possibilities of the richest indi-
viduality. The spirit of Chinese classicism, however, must be
described as poorj its fundamental ideas are few in number,
and its ramifications are scanty. How is it that nevertheless
I do not experience a feeling of poverty, and that the Chinese
scholar, potentially at any rate, is a complete being? For
the Puritan, the child of an equally poor spirit, is not com-
plete, nor is the Buddhist, not to mention the European classi-
cal philologist, who also belongs to the same genus as the
Chinese scholar. The cause is, what I have recognised again
and again as the main characteristic of Eastern wisdom: the
concentration, to which it owes its origin, and the concentra-
tion with which it is studied. The teaching of the wise men
of China is sparse and monosyllabic, not because it excludes,
but because it condenses} its dicta, understood in the way in
which the cultivated Chinese understand them, contain within
themselves the quintessence of all that could possibly be meant.
And this is true of its ｅxpression as well as of its meaning.
The more profoundly a connection of facts is understood, the
nearer one approaches the point of intersection of the co-
ordinates which serve to determine it, and the less concepts are
in question. In the case of our arithmetical means of ex-
pression (in which we must necessarily represent also Chinese
wisdom) this does not appear always quite clearly; in the case
of the algebraic method of the Chinaman, however, it is so
obvious that the classical ｅxpression appears as the only possible
one from the point of view of every one who has seized its
meaning. And this is the aim and result of the specifically
Chinese training. It sounds grotesque to us that a man should
devote ten or twenty years to the study of Confucius alone : he
does not study in the way we do; he meditates every individual
sentence until its meaning has permeated his inner being, and
when he has reached his goal, it does not mean that he has un-
derstood Confucius in our sense, but that the spirit of the great
teacher has taken complete possession of him, just as a great
passion takes possession of men. In this process philology ac-
quires a new meaning. If it can be presupposed that the spirit
CHAP, 42 P E K I N 105
of a culture has been acquired, then really nothing else matters
than to turn all one's attention to its ｅxpression, and when
this ｅxpression can be found to perfection in classical litera-
ture, then philological study is really the gateway to humanity.
Our philologists credit European classical studies with similar
importance; they too assert that men of classical education who
are masters of Latin and Greek, and know their Cicero, are a
match for all the problems of life. But this is no longer true
in Europe. The spirit of Greece and Rome is not our spirit at
all, but its ancestor. And, no matter how perfect that spirit
was, it does not help others to perfection, as does the Chinese
spirit, because its roots do not go so deep. This spirit embodies
significance as it were in itself, beyond the realm of appear-
ances; the other does so in the form of a particular phenomenon
which differs in quality from that other which is our existence.
For this reason the classical philologist cannot be a complete
being in modern Europe, and classical education is not essen-
tial to perfect development of personality, and is of little use in
acquiring the mastery of life, no matter how valuable its posses-
sion may be otherwise. In China it makes men perfect and
fits them, moreover, for practical life. It was with very good
reason that, until the great revolution, all official posts were
occupied by doctors of philology, and the passing of the literary
state-examinations was regarded as an absolute proof of com-
petence. The Chinaman who had inwardly assimilated the
spirit of his classics was a match for all the manifestations of
early Chinese life, in the same way as Americans are a match
for their own if they are possessed completely by the spirit of
initiative, no matter how mediocre the rest of their knowledge
may be.
But, on the other hand, this spirit is a mature organism. It
can procreate itself and act but it cannot become rejuvenated;
it will not tend to the salvation of the China which no longer
contains the world within it. It is, moreover, in spite of all its
advantages, too much a spirit of philistinism. If the philolo-
gist, the scholar, the literary man, can be revered by a nation as
its ideal type, then the peculiarities of this variety of men must
also apply to its essential being. And it is so. I am entering
io6 CHINA PART v
freely into the spirit which possesses me: yes, it is unbend-
ing, pedantic, rigid, precocious and whimsical. My conscious-
ness is that of a schoolmaster, or, to be more precise, that of a
pushing model pupil, overproud of what he has acquired.
To-day I could do nothing foolish, it would be impossible for
me to fall in love, unless it were with a girl who was a model
pupil j I would never dare to pursue a thought whose direction
had not been pointed out by authority. Significance apart
from the letter does not interest me. And the worst is that I
am very well pleased with myself in this garb, that I feel no
desire beyond the confines of my philistinism. Yes, the pro-
fundity which found exhaustive ｅxpression once has by that
very fact become superficial. For a short period the surface
appears to be profound, but an intimate change soon takes
place by which it becomes superficial once more; the spirit
which was originally embodied in the letter becomes eventu-
ally resolved in it again. Thus, the importance of every
cultural value is ultimately a question of time. The Chinaman
concerned with the Eternal has, therefore, more inducement
than all other men in the same position to deny manifestations
altogether.
I SPEND many hours each day with Ku Hung-Ming and his
friends and supporters. He is a man of such wit and such a
fiery temperament that I am sometimes reminded of a Latin.
To-day he was explaining at great length how wrong the Euro-
peans, and especially the sinologists are, in considering the
development of Chinese culture quite by itself, without com-
parison with that of the West: for both have evolved, accord-
ing to him, within the frame of an identical formula. In both
there has been an equivalent of antiquity and medievalism,
renaissance and enlightenment, reformation and counter-
reformation, Hebraism and Hellenism (to use the terms of
Matthew Arnold), rationalism and mysticism j and the parallel
is to be drawn even in detail: even in China, for instance, there
has been a Bayard. I do not know Chinese history sufficiently
to test the soundness of these comparisons, and I rather suspect
CHAP. 42 PEK1N 107
Ku Hung-Ming, as I do the majority of his countrymen,
of practising rather too cheap a form of intellectualism, such
as flourishes, for instance, in Southern Italy. This much,
however, is true: all historical conditions are special manifesta-
tions, brought about by particular circumstances, of the natural
forms of human life, which are the same everywhere} and
since all possible combinations of circumstances vacillate round
a few types whose sequence appears to be subject to one rule,
it cannot but be that all peoples of comparable temperament
also pass through comparable stages. Now Western Euro-
peans and Chinamen are singularly comparable; they belong
essentially to an identical fundamental type, the type of the
c men of ｅxpression, 3 to which the Indians and the Russians, for
instance, do not belong. It must be possible therefore to
establish historical parallels. Nevertheless, my attitude to-
wards the value of such comparisons is sceptical. Time may
possess one single significance in itself it certainly is not so in
reference to men. The Chinese are men of long, and we of
short, breath; for us mobility, for them quiescence, is the normal
condition. How, then, can one make valid comparisons? We
boast of our rapid progress: thanks to it, we will probably
always remain barbarians, since perfection is possible only
within given limits and we are perpetually changing ours.
Nor do I accept it as agreed that we will continue to advance
for long at the same rate: every direction in life is limited
inwardlyj we too will one day reach the end, and probably
earlier than we think. I have often heard the following argu-
ment, especially in India: since all cultures we are aware of
start at a relatively high level and this is correct this pre-
supposes that there has been before an exceedingly long period
of slow ascent. Most certainly not! Every idea contains
within itself, not only in theory but de facto, the whole of its
consequences; it strives for actuality; it becomes embodied
wherever matter permits it to do so, so that, as soon as the
mental processes are set in motion at all, they take place with
great rapidity. For this reason, as long as consciousness is
asleep, aeons may pass before anything new happens; this may
occur either in the primordial state br, as in China, at a cer-
io8 CHINA PART v
tain level of culture which has once been reached. But once
it has been wakened, development takes place with extreme
rapidity. How long was the span of time from the awaken-
ing of the Greek spirit to its perfection? A century. How
long did it take from the discovery of the principle of aviation
until it was applied perfectly in practice? Not ten years. In
the same sense it may very well be that we too shall shortly
come to an end, and stop progressing at a level of development
which will be not nearly so far ahead of that of China as
we suppose. For in the modern sense of the word we too have
been progressive people only for the last hundred years.
Ku Hung-Ming does not miss a single opportunity of having
a dig at Laotse. His fundamental thesis is that Confucius is
the infinitely greater of the two because he understood signifi-
cance as profoundly as Laotse, but did not retire from the
world, but expressed his profundity in his mastery of it. If
Confucius really had been, and had achieved, what Ku asserts
of him, then, of course, he would be incomparably greater.
However, this is not so. It would appear to be contradictory
to nature that the same man should live altogether in pro-
fundity and prove himself, at the same time, to be a mighty
organiser of the surf ace j each one of these problems requires a
special physiological organisation, and I know of no accredited
case in which a man possessed both to a similar degree. Kung
Fu Tse and Laotse represent the opposite poles of possible
perfection} the one represents the perfection of appearance,
the other perfection of significance} the former, perfection
within the sphere of the materialised, the latter, within the
non-materialised} therefore they cannot be measured with the
same gauge. But Confucius must no doubt appear greater to
the Chinese because they are practical to the extreme as a
nation, and to this extent they have no direct relation to pro-
fundity as such. The more I see of the Chinese, the more I
notice how uninteresting their thoughts are. Their thinking
is not their essential quality: their existence is the ｅxpression
of their depth. Thus, Ku Hung-Ming is far more important
as a man than as a writer and as a thinker.
CHAP. 42 P E K I N 109
IT is true, after all: the average Taoist is far below the aver-
age Confucian. The Chinaman, as he appears to-day, is really
essentially (I would almost like to say physiologically) a Con-
fucian, if he denies the spirit whose child he is, he is unfaith-
ful to himself. This appears already in the flaws of the
popular Taoist theory, even where it is free from all magic
and fetish additions. To-day a priest of high standing ex-
plained to me that while the concept of Tao applied no doubt
to a principle in itself, the significance of the world lay all the
same in its pre-established harmony} so that meditative absorp-
tion does not really lead to a union with the creative mainspring
of life, but to unison with the objective order of the world.
Even this Taoist priest was, without knowing it, a Conf ucian.
once one has become identified with one's deepest Self, then
one knows of no given order any longer; from the Atman point
of view even a supposedly conclusive existence appears as crea-
tive development, and creation lies beyond all norms; all this is
a matter of course for every Brahmin. For the Taoist, how-
ever, the Confucian 'harmony' remains his fundamental idea, in
spite of the profundity of Taoist doctrines. He only knows
how to comprehend what is objective; he can experience noth-
ing purely subjectively.
The specific form of Taoism does not, on the whole, seem to
me to be suited to produce a higher type of men; it is too wide,
too manifold, too ambiguous for this purpose j and to this
extent it does not signify much that the Taoist monk is below
the Buddhist as well as the Christian one. But the fact that
all the Chinese with whom I have had intercourse, including
the Taoists, have no understanding whatever of the mar-
vellous teaching of Laotse, makes one conclude that they are
typically weak in subjective matters; they lack metaphysical
consciousness. This does not surprise me. Something similar
is true of all people to a higher or lesser degree whose typical
aspiration is directed towards completion; of the Greeks, for
instance, and the French, The man whose primary instinct
is the tendency for ｅxpression will make his being objective
like no one else. He will be, according to his talents, the great-
est artist, the noblest man, the most perfect political being,
110 CHINA PART V
but he will not understand himself profoundly} as soon as he
begins to think, he gets beyond himself and only perceives
what is external. Thus it is that the thinkers of peoples who
produce the greatest artists are usually rationalists. In the
case of the Greeks this relation did not appear unequivocally,
on account of their Dionysian impulses, which, especially in
the case of their philosophers, frequently held the balance
against their Apollonian tendencies: in the case of the Chinese
it appears in an extreme degree, because the Chinese are 'men
of ｅxpression' in the extreme. There is probably no more
inward or more profound art than that of China, but the proc-
esses of thought are nowhere more arid in their effect. How
unbearably boring and dry are the discourses of Mencius!
Quite unconsciously they evoke the picture of the most pedan-
tic of all schoolmasters. In reality, however, Mencius was
undoubtedly a very cultured gentleman, of perfect moral
culture, with the most delicately shaded sense of form, in whom
everything external appeared to be animated from within.
only the processes of thought were no corresponding means
of ｅxpression for himj he was unable to give a voice to his ego
by thinking.
Philosophising is, as it were, unnatural to the Chinese,
although they lead the most philosophical of all lives j their
wisdom expresses itself in what they represent by their lives,
not by their thoughts about it. Nevertheless, they have pro-
duced some of the prof oundest thinkers of whom we know.
What sort of men can they have been? I dare say there was
much in them of the fool and the charlatan; they must have
been typical, even extreme, examples of the co-existence of
great wisdom and great insufficiency* When the wise man
in the Tao-Teh-King exclaims: C I am undecided, without a
sign for my actions, like a little child which cannot laugh as
yetj I have the heart of a fool. I am unquiet like the sea, I
am lazy like a good-for-nothing' I do not think that this is to
be understood only ironicallyj the wise man will, with that
curious lack of vanity which characterises the Chinese so fre-
quently, have given a faithful picture of himself. At any rate,
it gives us food for thought that the Chinese people, whose
CHAP* 42 PEKIN in
feeling for human greatness is unrivalled in its acuteness, is
honouring the Taoist sages more as magicians than as 'noble'
and 'perfected' men.
Nevertheless, there may have been Taoist saints who might
be regarded as the greatest of all. There is a superiority in
Taoism which exists neither in Buddhism nor Christianity nor
even in Brahminismj for Taoism is the only Yoga system
which has not established an equation between perfection and
bliss. What an evil influence it has been in Indian and Chris-
tian Yogis that they demand the coincidence of the highest
condition with happiness! This expectation has frustrated
their aspirations to become really free from themselves. Hap-
piness can only be defined as a function of egoism; it is no
possible condition for the man who has overcome his ego. The
Taoists alone have recognised this fact. If a Taoist has ever
existed who has known how to translate this recognition into
life, he will probably have surpassed all the saints.
HOW nature mocks all formulas! I had imagined that I had
exhausted in my mind the possibilities of the Chinese literati,
and now I meet a man whose mere existence gives the lie to my
generalisation: a true scholar with a glowing soul of the most
sublimated spirituality! In China, as everywhere else, many
enthusiastic spirits are concerned to-day in calling a new world
religion into life, and here, as everywhere else, these prophets
are generally uninteresting. They are professorial natures
who have been intoxicated by the (supposed) recognition of
the one spirit which is at the basis of all higher religions, and
who thereupon step forth and endeavour to better the world
instead of writing harmless textbooks on comparative religion.
The man with whom I spent this afternoon is animated by the
most genuine religiosity; he reminds me in many ways of
Calvin, only the latter's characteristics appear softened by
many a Franciscan trait, a thing which seems possible only in
China. He sees the fundamental weakness of China in pre-
cisely that which strikes every thoughtful visitor from the very
first: that the spirit has died in the letter; and the one object of
112 CHINA PART V
his existence is to impart a new spirit to the letter. The spirit
which he means is closely related to the Christian spirit of St.
John the Apostle. But of course he considers Confucianism
as the best possible form in which to realise its meaning. The
fact is that he is a Chinaman and a cultured one into the bar-
gain, and he would not be one if he thought differently. The
looseness of Taoism, the excessive softness of Buddhism, are
not congenial to him. As to Christianity, its indubitable truths
are, according to him, expressed in a language which is alien
to the Chinese. If he should translate them into his own, they
would result in nothing else than Confucianism, perhaps not
in its traditional form, but in the Confucianism which he
means j and for this reason the introduction of Christianity
can consequently be disregarded.
While I was listening to him and watching the play of ex-
pression in his marvellously spiritualised face, whose language
I could understand directly, I felt full of shame when I thought
of the missionaries who dared to 'convert' such 'heathens.' If
only they would learn before they taught! Of course, my
interrogator was not quite in the right j the deepest truth of
Christianity cannot be resolved in Confucianism. But this
last word will never be understood by the Chinese, just as little
as the Europeans will ever penetrate into the innermost heart
of the religion of the Indians} biological and historical barriers
exist there. However, these barriers do not limit religious
experience, they only limit the mental field of vision. Thus, an
orthodox Confucian can be as near to God and give an equally
true ｅxpression to the divinity within him, as the most enlight-
ened of Indians} he can do so precisely in so far as he remains
within the frame of his nature.
How beautiful a good Chinese head is! It represents an
extreme of expressive value and by how much simpler means
than in our case! A European must look 'remarkable' (for in-
stance, he must have rugged features, wild hair, a powerfully
marked cranium) if his head is to possess pictorial qualities}
the Chinese are beyond looking remarkable. In their case the
highest mobility has been condensed in simple curves, in calm,
relaxed features. A good Chinese head, no matter how strange
CHAP. 42 PEKIN 113
it may sound, seems more classic than an equally good Euro-
pean one.
on the whole, there is no lack of men and communities, no
matter what may be said concerning the lack of religiosity
among the Chinese, who have placed their powers at the service
of a religious revival of China. Nevertheless, I can understand
perfectly now that the missionaries regard the Chinese as
irreligious: for none of them is religious in the Church sense of
the word, not even their most zealous reformers} none of them
seems to be anxious to gain a victory for a new profession of
faith. Probably such militant procedure is opposed to the
temperament of the Chinese: no matter how intransigently
conservative the Confucian may be in his attitude in practice
he fought against and finally overcame Buddhism by absorbing
the foreign doctrine, so that he now asserts that it is an ex-
pression of his own Confucian outlook. From time to time
fanatics have appeared, and they have been allowed to go their
way, like everything else in this empire, until they came to a
standstill of their own accord} but the average cultured China-
man is no less tolerant than the Indian. I must constantly
think of a conversation which I had with an exceptionally
zealous and rough-mannered old Confucian priest: of course,
said he, Confucianism was the absolutely perfect ｅxpression of
truth; but the truth in itself, according to its inner meaning,
we Christians possess alsoj that was a foregone conclusion.
Compare such an attitude with that of a Lutheran pastor who
is in debate with a Catholic!
The new religious movements in China seem to me to be
marked essentially by their lack of confessionalism and lack
of ecclesiasticism. This is the natural consequence of that
typically Chinese attitude to which I referred already in Can-
ton, namely, that the Church is regarded as an 'institution,'
as a practical, external organisation which has no inner con-
nection with religiosity as such. How Protestant this trait is!
The Church was always an institution to the Protestant, insti-
tuted by God so as to keep the world in order; thus it could
ii4 CHINA PART v
not but be that every new formation, in the name of inward-
ness, contained within it a tendency to separate from the
Church, which was never the case in Catholicism, for which
cults have an inner significance- What is happening more and
more in the lap of Christian Protestantism, but which is
openly admitted only rarely, is the natural tendency of Chinese
Protestantism. Here we see how matter-of-fact considerations
can, in certain circumstances, lead to the same goal as creative
intuition. Undoubtedly religious feeling is weakly developed
among the Chinese people j nevertheless, the latter has under-
stood, perhaps more clearly than any other, that which is not
essential for religion. In principle the Church has really
nothing whatever to do with religion} the interrelation of these
two things is a secondary matter in the conceptual sense j divine
worship is magic in all circumstances. And while magic is a
very important natural science and a noble craft besides, it has
no religious significance. Being religious means striving after
the highest self-realisation; endeavouring to transfuse all ap-
pearance with the divine life. Such aspirations can be assisted
by magic, which in itself, however, remains a mere technicality.
Where, as in the case of the Chinese and the Northern Euro-
peans, the temperament is a sober one, and where, moreover,
the feeling for independence is developed so highly that men
do not want to accept more assistance than they can possibly
avoid, there development inevitably leads ever further away
from magic j and thus away from the Church, from cults and
from professions.
WHY does the Conf ucian reach such a high degree of per-
fection so frequently? This question imposes itself more and
more upon me, the more cultured Chinese I meet. I cannot
say that I have got to know a truly great man, a 'noble' one in
the sense of Confuciusj I cannot assert of any of my acquaint-
ances that they impress me by their nature. But an extraor-
dinary number among these gentlemen stand on a human
level such as I have only met with exceptionally in other lati-
tudes. This must be due to Confucianism. I will devote to
CHAP. 42 PEKIN 115
the penetration of this problem the dusky twilight hours of
a day on which the plundering soldiers do not make it seem
desirable to drive about.
The ideal Chinese is defined by the cultural ideal of his
nation: the ideal of concretion j the inner meaning is to mani-
fest itself exhaustively in appearance, for every one partakes
of Tao and signifies, as a special phenomenon, a link in uni-
versal harmony: he can therefore realise himself only if he acts
in unison with the order of the world, and that means as
long as he regulates his life strictly according to objective
rules and laws. If I may further presuppose that the obedience
to the recognised rules actually makes possible the highest
degree of self-realisation, then it is inevitable that, in adhering
to them, I become perfected, no matter what I may be as an
individual. Thus my problem would be solved: the Confucian
is so frequently on an unusually high level of culture because
his highest ideal is an ideal of the norm, so that every normal
being appears in principle fit to realise it 5 and because, more-
over, the given setting of the ideal points for the Chinese the
road directly to self-realisation.
All races and religions have postulated ideals which are to be
exemplary to every one. Every one of us is to be like Christ,
every Indian like Krishna or like Buddha. But every one can-
not become a saint, no matter how fervently he may strive,
because this requires special talents which he does not possess,
and for this reason Christians especially regard it as impossible
that they will ever be able to attain to their highest example.
Thus the example remains ineffective as a rule. If it is effec-
tive, the result is not beneficial for most men: it is not good for
any one to want to be what is not in accordance with his nature.
The Catholic priest is undoubtedly superior to the Protestant
in idea 5 the clergyman ought to have reached the point at
which he can live a celibate life without temptation, his sexual
instincts ought to have been transmuted completely, he ought
to have escaped from all natural ties, and he should be able to
live only for others. But in the majority of cases he cannot do
so, all the more rarely as religious temperament goes hand in
hand, without exception, with sensuousness, and for this reason
Il6 CHINA PARTY
it was a good thing that a different, cheaper type of priest
received official sanction with the advent of the Reformation.
The concrete value of ideals depends solely upon its rela-
tion to given possibilities j only such as have a favourable rela-
tion to nature, which are attainable in principle, can be ad-
vantageous. The latter applies to a marvellous degree in the
case of the Chinese. Their ideal does not presuppose an ex-
traordinary, but an average, temperament which every one can
assume of himself, and it is realised in the perfect development
of an average nature. Thus a priori it does not frighten any
one. It is not unattainable for any nature, it rather helps every
one who strives after it seriously, to realise what he is. It is
very curious how Conf ucius simply rejects everything abnormal.
He says: c To recognise the unrecognisable, to attain the un-
attainable; to perform deeds which would draw admiration
from the coming centuries: these are things which I would
never attempt.' And, elsewhere: The way of Tao is not out-
side or apart from the normal life of man.' He cautions ex-
pressly against overestimation of the ideal. In the Chong
Yong he says: c Now I know why truly moral life is so rare;
wise men regard the moral ideal as higher than it really is, and
the fools do not know how to do it justice; noble men aspire
too highly, they want to live high above their normal selves,
and the ignoble do not strive enough.' Confucius seems to be
anxiously concerned that the ideal might be overestimated.
The ideal man is not considered the man who strives to con-
quer heaven, but the one who does what lies nearest to hand,
the modest individual who wishes to represent only what he is
destined for. Not the genius is considered to be the highest
man, but he whose indifferently gifted but supremely cultured
personality gives perfect ｅxpression to the norm, for all individ-
ual existence is the mirror of universal harmony. But Con-
fucius lays all the greater stress upon ｅxpression. A wise
man who stood on a high inward level was not yet to be re-
garded as perfect: he had to express himself with dignity; the
wise man who expressed himself with dignity was not yet to
be regarded as perfect either: dignity had to be sublimated
into charm. Profundity could only be regarded as profundity
CHAP. 42 PEKIN 117
when it transfused the surface altogether. How is any one, for
whom the teaching of Kung Fu Tse is the word of God, whose
education has been conducted in such a way that this teaching
has become his very principle of life, not to advance upon the
road to perfection? How is he, since this teaching actually
includes the essence of all practical wisdom of life, not to
approach perfection frequently? Every average individual
must get further as a Confucian than as a Brahmin or as a
Christian} only those who are not normal do not benefit. The
subnormal individual remains farther below the norm than he
would do subject to Christian presuppositions, because these
give him more hope; the development of those who are above
the average is impeded j and the abnormal individual meets
with no understanding. Therefore, among the Chinese orig-
inal individualities are rarer than anywhere else, the uncultured
man is more blunt and failures are sacrificed. But the average
reach a higher degree of perfection more frequently than any-
where else in the world.
Is the Confucian alternative, in a world which is not round,
not the best possible, if one may assume that there can be
an ideal of universal applicability? Perfection is the supreme
goal which mortal men may aspire to, therefore all emphasis
must be laid upon it. This, moreover, is the most humane
course one can possibly take. For perfection is attainable in
principle for every onej it is also the wisest in so far as, subject
to assumptions which facilitate such a development, men can
become great who would not become so otherwise} one should
remember the greatness and profundity which distinguish
sometimes insignificant women, that naive, innocent greatness
before which even the wisest man bows so readily. And this
brings me to the last consideration which speaks decisively
for Confucianism: it creates men with great potentialities.
The development of the feminine soul has almost always taken
place, thanks to the external inhibitions of family life: in the
same way the Confucians owe the high level of their humanity
to their incredibly rigid system. The gentlemen whom I mean
would never have attained anything like so deep a culture if
they had been born and educated in Western latitudes} they
Il8 CHINA PARTY
owe this to their static conception of the world as a static sys-
tem. According to Chinese ideas, the universe stands still j it
is perfect in itself, not to be perfected 3 thus ultimately nothing
can be achieved by will. Life, however, presses upwards irre-
sistibly, and remains a progressive and dynamic principle even
where it is interpreted statically} thus, progress takes place in
spite of everything. only it takes place not externally but
internally. Psychic energy becomes accumulated which finds
no ｅxpression in initiative, and for this reason the average
cultured Chinaman is characterised by a state of inner tension
such as we find only now and again in an exceptional being in
the West.
The Chinese owe their superiority without doubt to the Con-
fucian 'ideal normality.' It is impossible to conceive a more
salutary general ideal. Even the West is beginning lately to
recognise this: public opinion is giving the preference more
and more to normality as opposed to abnormality, the ascetic
and heroic ideals are being replaced by the ideal of appropriate-
ness to Nature, and perfection is valued higher than natural
condition. The canonisation which Goethe is experiencing
progressively in German-speaking countries is largely due to
this very fact: of all our great men, he was a normal man more
than any one else, he excluded fewer existences than all the
others. Will Confucianism one day come to us? It is not
impossible. It is the philosophy of normality, and, understood
profoundly and essentially, according to its spirit and not
according to the letter, it is undoubtedly the best philosophy
for the masses. There is one point, however, on which we
must not give way to any illusion: the philosophy of normality
does not draw us upward, does not favour a high idealism, does
not enhance our powers. Everything that goes to make up the
highest pride of the West is due to the fact that it has desired
the impossible; the Confucian always only wants the possible.
Here one must choose one of two alternatives: either we desire
the superman then we can have no consideration for the
masses} that was the situation until recently in the West} all
supreme ideals, those of Christianity included, were destined
for a select minority. Or else we want to lead the masses as
CHAP. 42 PEKIN 119
they are to perfection then one renounces the higher types.
It is hardly to be doubted that, sooner or later, our democratic
world will seize the latter alternative, whose ideal is the perfect
normal man, if it constructs a model for itself at all. And
it will construct one. Humanity is less aware to-day than ever
before that ideals are not meant to be examples, which every
one has to imitate, but embodiments of the basic tones of life
to which every one is to attune his personal note; it seems less
mature to-day than ever to deny the postulate of uniformity
and to approach that highest condition in which every tone
resounds only as itself in a harmonic relation to the basic tones,
which, for their part, should resound powerfully and purely;
modern life is further than ever from the ideal of the sym-
phony. . . . Nevertheless, even if the ideal of normality
should be proclaimed as the absolute ideal, it would be a mis-
take to introduce Confucianism as it is into Europe. In order
to see normality idealised in Confucius, one must be a Chinese.
only men who have not been individualised to a high degree
can recognise so many regulations as being universally appli-
cable, only minds of weak imagination can become enthusiastic
at such a matter-of-fact example, only beings of great talent
for ｅxpression, but small talent for conception, can find satis-
faction in so poor a system. However strange it may sound:
the more human beings an ideal, regarded in the abstract, is
destined to lead to perfection, the less do its concrete expres-
sions appear to be generally exemplary. Christ and Buddha
embodied true ideals of humanity, however little the majority
may emulate them directly 5 Confucius can only be an example
to the Chinese; he does not rouse our enthusiasm. This does
not speak against him, but only proves once more the exclusive-
ness of everything concrete. Englishmen will hardly under-
stand our Goethe cult; it is strange to them that a pronounced
pedant, a circumstantial, clumsy provincial, can represent a
human maximum to a people; and Goethe really was, among
other things, what they reproach him with. But in this same
sense it seems monstrous to us that England could have made
an ideal of Dr. Johnson, that thick-headed average Briton,
without the least originality, who was more biased than any
120 CHINA PART V
Anglo-Saxon after him, the founder of that cult of prejudice
which ever since has characterised the English middle classes as
nothing else does, the rot das cw3tres y as Sainte-Beuve so ad-
mirably called him, the man who, of all those whose memory
has been preserved by mankind, has pronounced the largest
number of commonplaces with the greatest and prof oundest
conviction. But this is the fate of every ideal of normality
which has been materialised.
I AM spending the last days I have in Pekin in excursions
to the surroundings. on what a grand scale nature is here!
How powerfully it enlarges one's self-consciousness! The
rhythmic uniformity of the landscape gives it the appearance
of unlimited extension 5 the clear, dry air makes all distance
seem illusory: I feel as if my vision reached to the boundaries
of the world. If I had been born as the heir to the dragon
throne in Pekin it would probably seem a matter of course to
me to be lord of the earth; especially as no proof would be
required. It would appear from the history of antiquity that
the mere existence of the emperor is sufficient to keep the world
in order. From the cradle on, the example of Shun would
have been held up to me. This holy man only sat there, turned
his face towards the south, and complete harmony predomi-
nated. The seasons maintained their allotted spans, all sons
served their fathers, all couples loved each other, all officials
were trustworthy. I would be assured again and again: if only
I brought my personality to perfection, then the cosmos would
arrange itself of its own accord. And if I really perceived
clearly what that meant, what immense importance was innate
in me, and then looked out into the expanse of nature, then
I would undoubtedly think: I am great!
But I would think so without vflpis, in all modesty j I would
perhaps think so in all humility. I would have the same feel-
ing which takes hold of the mountaineer when at last he looks
about him from the summit of his aspirations: the feeling of
being great, yes, but in the midst of something so infinitely
more great that he delights, as a matter of fact, much more in
CHAP. 43 HANKOW 121
the consciousness of his being small. I, the emperor, am only
a wheel in the mechanism of the infinite world j perhaps the
greatest, the fly-wheel, but only one member in the organisa-
tion. And thereupon I would think in humility of the unlimit-
edness of my power. Why am I called unlimited when I am
responsible for the whole of creation, where an insignificant
carelessness on my part would result in unspeakable damage?
They call me unlimited because no one stands above me.
Somewhere or other the last authority must be reached. All
moral efficacy is based upon authority^ where this authority is
not unconditional it is lacking altogether. The barbarians,
the Christians, so I am told, transfer all unqualified authority
to a god whom no one has ever seen. That must have been
the invention of a cunning but unjust emperor who wanted to
make things easy for himself j or whose moral sense was not
sufficiently developed. I would be ashamed not to bear ex-
treme responsibility.
I escape from the soul of the Son of Heaven, and enter into
one of the many who, in the shape of curious enquirers, come
from the Far West to visit the imperial town of the Far East.
What an amazing discovery! I have entered from something
very great into something very small, and I find that the self-
estimation of the latter is many times greater. He recognises
nothing above himself j regards himself as the highest con-
ceivable man, destined to rule the world. Moreover, he is
irresponsible; he stands outside the solidarity of nature.
Which autocrat is more worthy of reverence, the emperor,
who bears consciously the responsibility for the processes of
the world, or the free American, who boasts that he could
smash it?
43
HANKOW
on the way here from Pekin the train was held up sud-
denly by soldiers. They were an independent division
which belonged neither to the republic nor to the Manchus, and
they were apparently bored and eagerly seized upon the few
122 CHINA PART V
opportunities for diversion which came their way. At first the
situation did not look uncritical, no matter how uncritically
the train conductors seemed to regard it: the soldiers attacked
the carriages with fixed bayonets, and looked as if they were
going to search the baggage. However, they did nothing; in
the midst of the turmoil they seemed to wait for something 5
and when the 'peacemakers' came and began to talk to them
with a gentle mien, they seemed to have found what they
wanted. It took hours before the negotiations were concluded}
but they let us pass on unharmed.
What quaint soldiery! During my stay in Canton a battle
raged between the troops of the Government and the pirates;
but occasionally an interval occurred, and the enemies had
the most peaceable and friendly intercourse as if they were not
at war at all. The story goes in Hankow that residents who
were playing football were molested the other day by the
bullets which flew across from the neighbouring field of battle;
they thereupon sent a message to the nearest general with the
request to cease shooting until they had finished their match,
and he is said to have acceded to their wish. The Chinese
seem to be warriors as other people are cobblers or haber-
dashers, that is to say, they do not connect any kind of idealism
with the profession of arms; and while they practise it, their
heart seems hardly to be in it. What wonder, in a realm whose
people have, from immemorial times, professed peace a tout
prix as the highest ideal! In Chinese literature the general is
rarely represented as a hero; he is often represented as a
ruffian, and generally simply as a coarse churL It has never
been regarded as a disgrace in China if a campaign was lost;
pre-eminence was always given to the weapons of the mind
over physical ones. A quaint legend relates how envoys of a
king of barbarians once came to the emperor and threatened
him with war and conquest. He did not know at first what he
should reply, because he was convinced of the worthlessness
of his own army, and not sufficiently informed concerning that
of the enemy. He thereupon thought of the poet, who hap-
pened to be at his court: he no doubt would know how to frame
such an answer that the envoys would depart in terror. The
CHAP. 43 HANKOW 123
poet was, as usual, full of winej and it was only the empress
who, with the assistance of the most beautiful of her women,
succeeded with difficulty at last in waking him up from his
inebriation. But when he finally realised what the trouble
was, he improvised such a fine speech on the spur of the mo-
ment, a speech animated by the spirit of such a superior force,
that the envoys actually departed in terror and reported to their
lord that his army was not a match against such forces. I have
noticed several times, in conversation with Mandarins, that
they did not admire but despised physical courage. They admit
that it is useful occasionally, and that one must keep people
who possess it} only they are not higher types of men; joy
in fighting is to them a proof of vulgarity. They regarded
the soldier as standing below the scholar, comparable rather
with a bulldog than with man.
We too are undoubtedly gravitating towards a condition in
which the virtues of the warrior will lose in importance, and in
which the failings of this type will seem greater than its advan-
tages; and from many points of view this is desirable. ^ But we
will pay dearly for its advantages: we will become philistines,
unprepared for sacrifice, and we will lose in nobility of outlook*
Unfortunately, as things happen to be, the ideal of eternal
peace is absolute only in relation to heaven. We who dwell
upon earth require the instigation of material danger if we are
to remain capable of idealism. How little round the world is,
in spite of Galileo! Duelling is a very barbarous invention
which must disappear. Even to-day it is contradictory to the
whole of the rest of our attitude to life. Nevertheless, the
human types who fight duels are in many ways superior ^ to
those who have got beyond this stage. Their prejudice forbids
them in all circumstances to give in to natural fear, and it
teaches them to act in accordance with the recognition that
there are higher values than life; above all it educates them, in
forcing them to allow their opponent equal chances of victory,
to show respect in the highest sense to the personality of
another.
The turbid stream of the Yang-Tse rolls on before me.
Thousands of sweating coolies toil away on the steamers and
124 CHINA PART V
junks, loading, dragging, carrying, pushing, jerking, pulling,
shoving. Such life suits the Chinese better than fighting for
their fatherland. Their idealism appears in the manner in
which they bear the burden of the day.
i
44
on THE YANG-TSE
AM now gliding on the kindly stream without which the
immeasurable reaches of country through which it flows
would be so much desert. The fall of the river is considerable;
nevertheless, its waters seem hardly to move, so great and
heavy is its mass, just as the flight of the wild goose seems
slow compared with that of the wren. Everywhere on the
shores of the Yang-Tse life is green and flourishes. Wher-
ever I look, I perceive the intelligent activity of the peasants.
Wherever I turn, they appear as the very hand of nature.
This is the real, the immortal China. Since I have got to
know its flower, I realise with redoubled certainty that the root
of the whole of Chinese culture is in its peasantry. If the
Confucian system did not represent the spiritualised ｅxpression
of a fundamentally natural condition, it could never have be-
come the skeleton of the whole of China.
The families which ploughed the fields in the days of Shun
and Yao still live on their inherited soil, deeply conscious of
their language. They emigrate only rarely. Where the
peasant toils during his lifetime, there he also returns to earth.
The ploughed field is the cradle of the whole of China. There
is no hereditary nobility. Every now and again one man or
another succeeds in passing the great examination, and then
he rises to a higher position. The mass remains eternally as
it was.
I do not know any one who has lived for some period
amongst the Chinese peasants who did not learn to love them
dearly and even to honour them. In them the virtues of the
patriarchal age are really alive. Their life represents, as if it
were a matter of course, what Confucius and Mencius have
CHAP.44 THE YANG-TSE US
taught. Here all external order is born from the inner atti-
tude, here no system seems even conceivable which is not based
upon natural impulses. When have laws of state been neces-
sary in primeval circumstances, in order to regulate the relation
between the various members of the family? It is natural for
parents to love their children and vice versa, it is natural to a
clan to cling together. The more dense a population is, and
the more peaceable and reasonable it is by temperament, the
more do the natural elements become moral laws. It is so
obvious that an existence such as theirs can only flourish sub-
ject to harmonious co-operation, that it appears criminal, be-
cause against nature, to disturb such harmony j it is, moreover,
so obvious that this inevitable order oppresses no one who
welcomes it as the realisation of his wishes, that it seems there-
fore necessary to develop the natural social impulses as much
as possible. In this way, love between members of a family,
reverence before age and authority, have been cultivated so
intensively by the Chinese peasants that they have become
long ago the decisive factors of their souls. Nothing is more
natural to primitive man than to generalise to infinity: thus,
not only the whole vast empire, but the entire universe, has
been understood as a community which is based upon ^ the
natural relation between the members of a family. ^ Provided
the sons evince the necessary reverence towards their fathers,
then the rain will also come at the appropriate season. This
ancient Chinese peasant wisdom, of which the simple people
were hardly conscious, no matter how much they demonstrated
it in life and action, subsequently became articulated by the
masters of antiquity. And since they taught what was anyhow
at the bottom of men's actions, two things happened: their
dicta were recognised as correct without further ado, and now
that they had become conscious, they were obeyed with re-
doubled attention. In this way it happened that Conf ucianism
grew to be China's form of consciousness more and more long
after it had represented its form of existence. Confucianism
became, of course, more differentiated, clarified and artificial
as the nation progressed, but it never lost its original meaning.
This was possible only thanks to the special historical cir-
126 CHINA PARTY
cumstance that the Chinese have, from the very beginning
until the present day, remained a nation of peasants, while no
powerful castes were formed whose form of life was opposed
to that of the peasants j while the infinitely complicated consti-
tution of later times remained in essence patriarchal until
to-day. Thus the dicta of Kung Fu Tse and Mong Tse were
never in opposition to practical utilityj they always remained
appropriate to the age. The more a man was capable of
thought, the more he had to be surprised at their wisdom j thus
their prestige increased continuously in the course of cen-
turies. And this was necessary if they were to retain their old
efficacy. The ideas of the old masters were, no matter how
deeply they were rooted in humanity, too simple after all; only
uncomplicated, primordial souls can be resolved completely
in the order of nature, but the soul remains the foundation of
even the most developed individual. Thanks to the prestige
which the Confucian dicta enjoyed, the most subtle minds were
induced to absorb its meaning profoundly, with the result
that that something remained alive, or came to life again, which
exists only very exceptionally in the consciousness of non-
Chinese men of culture. Hence the nature-like profundity,
which generally distinguishes even the most refined Chinese.
The feeling for what is original and genuine is always alive in
him. The relation of the children to their parents, and vice
versa, is understood more profoundly than anywhere in Europe
to-dayj the impulses of nature are cultivated correspondingly.
Hence, even in the most cultivated there is a vital feeling for
simplicity and primitiveness, and a vital understanding of the
meaning of morality even among those who are decadent them-
selves. I have never seen a Chinese for whom morality meant
anything but cultivated nature. Nevertheless, no Mandarin is
as good a Confucian as any peasant in the valley of the Yang-
Tse, simply because Confucianism is originally only appro-
priate to the horizon of the peasant. But as long as there are
no castes in China, as long as the peasant remains the Chinese
and does not alter his character as such, the characteristics will
not die out, thanks to which the Chinese appears even to-day
morally as the most cultured human being.
CHAP.44 THE YANG-TSE 127
As long as. ... Will the peasant remain the same old in-
dividual that he was after this new revolution? And if not,
what then? I look with profound melancholy upon the fields
and the villages round about, upon the indefatigable country
folk who follow their old habitual occupation along the banks
of the Yang-Tse. Poverty such as seems typical of the
Chinese peasant is, no doubt, an absolute evil but how is it
to be overcome without the instigation to individual egoism
by which the moral foundation of the marvellous civilisation
of China, the omnipotent family feeling, would be destroyed?
There is little to be said for the dirt: but how is cleanliness to
be introduced before prosperity has come? It is indeed hor-
rible that so many men die year after year from hunger and
pestilence: but where is the excess of population to go to if the
self -regulation of nature is broken? A higher condition of
equilibrium is certainly conceivable than the present one, but
it will take centuries before it is brought about, and in the
meantime the misery will become greater than it was before.
What is the kernel of the social evil among us? That men
know too much in order to be happy within the narrow limits in
which they live, that they do not know enough to under-
stand that this undesirable state of things can only become al-
tered on a large scale in the passage of long periods of time,
and that for this reason a violent attempt to get beyond such
a state of affairs must inevitably lead to making it worse. In
America it is undoubtedly desirable to let every one learn as
much as he wants to, for there the opportunities for success
are so many that every talented individual can hope to fight
his way through. In more narrowly confined Europe this
is possible only exceptionally, and it would therefore be better
if the temptations were not made too great. In the overpopu-
lated and correspondingly poor realm of China, with its rigid
social order, that which is a misfortune for Europe will un-
doubtedly assume the nature of a calamity. Thus, the tradi-
tional happiness of the Chinese is at an end in all, even the
most favourable, circumstances.
The path of progress represents itself as an endless series of
intimate tragedies. Happiness depends exclusively upon inner
128 CHINA PART v
circumstances, it cannot be adduced from the outside: to this
extent progress seems purposeless, even harmful. A given
unalterable condition produces in the long run, of its own
accord, the inner outlook thanks to which it becomes bearable ;
in changing circumstances man loses his inner equilibrium.
The problem consists in acquiring an inner condition which
could do justice to all external circumstances, that is to say,
which would make him independent of them in practice, and
that means a condition of the highest culture. Thus, whereas,
under stationary conditions, every individual shares happiness
potentially, only higher individuals do so in changing circum-
stances. Here the masses are condemned to permanent un-
happiness. Perhaps this is the intention of Providence in so
far as it exists, for man develops undoubtedly more rapidly in
adversity than in happiness; perhaps it is well that a period of
necessarily increasing misery has fallen upon humanity. But
it is tragic that it welcomes this period as one of greater happi-
ness, for the inevitable disappointment will raise its dissatis-
faction inordinately*
The involuntary attitude of the well-intentioned man of
culture towards this fate is one of wanting to stop it. For this
reason all really cultured Chinese are reactionary. But they
would be more wise if they fought against their sympathies.
They ought, as far as possible, to anticipate the future con-
dition of equilibrium and present this as an example to the
masses, for only in this way will they be able to help them.
The ideals of the olden days have abdicated; the past type of
perfection can no longer be regarded as exemplary. It is the
duty of the cultured, the aristocrats, in China, as everywhere
else, not to immortalise a past perfection, but to fashion as
soon as possible, from their better insight, the type which
can paint the way to the humanity of to-morrow.
THE captain tells me of the time when he sailed up and down
the Yang-Tse as a young officer: in those days everything was
different. How delightful it was then to negotiate with the
Chinese merchants! They were true to their contracts and
CHAP.44 THE YANG-TSE 129
never broke them, and generally a verbal agreement was suffi-
cient. They were as reliable and honest as any English firm.
To-day one had to watch them ever so closely; they cheated
wherever they could do so. This was the result of their con-
tact with American business organisations. Well, perhaps it
was not the Americans alone who had brought bad customs
to the East; most Europeans had behaved there in a manner
which would make them impossible at home. The more
I see and experience, the more certain I am that where inner
culture is not of the most unusual kind, that which is good is
preserved only in so far as it is demonstrably useful. In all
close communities it is most useful to be good, and for this
reason nations as well as castes, guilds as well as criminals,
wherever they are far-sighted enough, maintain a certain
minimum of moral principles. And goodness proves itself
proportionately more useful, the more active intercourse and
the greater the turnover becomes, so that honesty is frequently
absolute in very large business organisations. Thus, we
modern Europeans, as long as we do business with one another,
are presumably the most honest dealers who have ever lived.
But that our morality is nothing primary, but purely the result
of circumstances, is proved with horrifying clarity as soon as
we transfer our activities beyond our own circle: there we
behave like wild beasts. The cultured Chinese among them-
selves refer to us as 'pirates,' and this description is certainly
not too severe. Since I have stayed in the East, I can, un-
fortunately, doubt no longer that our moral culture is purely
external.
Fortunately, goodness proves itself everywhere in the long
run to be most useful, so that the white man will one day not
be able to be anything but decent and honourable, even in the
East. But it makes one feel ashamed to think that the majority
among us have remained morally quite crude, in spite of
Christianity, the ideal of humanity, and the most well-thought-
out systems. If God suddenly destroyed the whole of our
external machinery, we would appear as pure barbarians. A
similarly threatening God would not need to strike terror into
the Chinese: what they possess of morality (and that is more
130 CHINA PART v
than most of us possess), is conditioned inwardly, not externally.
Of course, it is not independent of externals if it were, the
Chinese would be demigods ; the culture of the individual
would never have gone so far without the compulsion of the
closest living together under difficult circumstances; if the
merchants are less honest than in former days, they are also
taking the external circumstances into account. But their
feeling for morality represents a primary factor in their souls,
not a secondary one, as in our case. Therefore they appear,
seen from God's point of view, morally superior to us, even
where their actions are more immoral. During my stay in
China I often thought of the thesis of Paul Dubois, that an
uncertain feeling for the difference between good and evil is
a sign of stupidity; it was a question of purely objective cir-
cumstances, which one either recognised or not, concerning
which there could not be two equally valid opinions, just as
little as over the problem as to whether twice two makes four
or five. No Chinese seems as 'stupid' (or, more correctly,
^uncultured') in this direction, as most European men (women
are much more cultured) ; the Chinese, no matter how dubious
his action action depends upon character probably always
knows what is right. He knows it, however, because this
side of his soul stands on a high level of culture, thanks to
Confucianism. Is it not about time that we too educated our
children in this Confucian manner? Sooner or later this will
undoubtedly happen; it is to be hoped that it does not happen
too late. Our self-sufficient men of ethics and morals ought to
be compelled to have intercourse with cultured Chinese for
at least a year (just as I recommended all those interested in
religion to spend a year in Benares) : those whose souls are not
completely blind would recognise in surprise that these gentle-
men, no matter how 'immoral' they may be according to Euro-
pean ideas, no matter how histrionic they are, no matter how
much they dissemble, how much they lie, how unabashedly
they visit brothels, and no matter how unimposing their char-
acter is as a rule, stand on an incomparably higher level of
moral culture than most of the men of our race. The mere
concept of moral culture is strange to the average European*
CHAP.44 THE YANG-TSE 131
He imagines that, with the quality of 'character, 5 everything
is said and done. But what does character mean? It means
the solidity of a given psychic organism. But this is purely a
question of physiology and has nothing to do with morality.
Just as it is exquisite when a morally cultured individual
evinces firmness, it is horrible if a coarse one does the same.
By breeding for character we have given a more durable raw
material of soul to the world than the whole East can show.
But more than this has not been achieved up to to-day. The
time has come to begin to elaborate it.
I wish the missions would be forbidden on the part of gov-
ernments. Their single members are often altogether vener-
able, but in moral culture they stand, almost without exception,
too far below those whom they come to 'convert' not to do
much more harm than good. one should not send hobblede-
hoys as teachers to cultured people, even if they are better
men.
A STORM is raging on the Yang-Tse. When I lie there
with my eyes shut and listen to the voices of the water and the
air, I cannot help fancying that I am on the ocean. And when
I look up I am disappointed by the spectacle of dirty furrowed
water. It is better to keep one's eyes shut. As I open them
again after a while, my consciousness being entirely enthralled
It is an old and favourite game of mine to imagine small
things great and great things small} a game which provides
much amusement. To see canons in sand-purls and the sea in
puddles this requires no exertion of the imagination, and
the inner enrichment which one experiences in the process is
great. one may thus witness catastrophes of nature without
ever having left one's native soil. . . . And yet no amount of
imagination helps us beyond our essential limitation. What
difference is there as such between a puddle and the ocean?
only that of absolute size. Both are facts in the same sense j
132 CHINA PART v
the ocean is not richer in problems; every atom is a solar sys-
tem and can be imagined as such without further ado. And yet,
only that which is great in relation to us calls forth great feel-
ings in us. This shows how lamentably dependent we are on
external stimulus. A powerful shock raises even the philistine
high above himself; on the other hand, a genius can only fulfil
his destiny absolutely in the midst of favourable surroundings.
one ought to get so far as to become entirely independent of
the accident of one's external surroundings; that is to say, one
ought to have such complete mastery over one's inner sur-
roundings one's given psycho-physical organism that, by
changing it at will, as the chameleon changes his colour, one
would attain with certainty what is otherwise only more or less
attainable by the shrewd consideration of external influences.
45
SHANGHAI
Now I have seen Shen Chi-P'si, the scholar of whom I have
heard so much. The expectations with which I looked
forward to his acquaintance were great. Almost every time
when in Pekin the conversation turned upon European con-
ditions and I had cause to rectify the views of my Chinese
friends, they looked at each other meaningly and exclaimed:
'Shen Chi-P'si told us that too; only we did not wish to believe
him, because, no matter how learned he may be, he has only
occupied himself superficially with Western civilisation.'
What kind of a man must he be who understood most things
without knowing them! His appearance, the personal con-
tact with him, did not bring me any disappointment. Shen
Chi-P'si is the greatest fulfilment of Chinese possibility which
I have seen; he is actually a c Noble one,' as Kong Fu-Tse has
delineated him. He is an old man with the fire of a youth;
venerable and earnest, as is proper for a sage, and at the same
time as graceful in his demeanour as a girl; he is perfect
in form and simultaneously all profundity and significance.
Shen represents, in an astonishingly high degree, the ideal of
CHAP.45 SHANGHAI 133
concretion which is the chief characteristic of Chinese culture.
In him all personal profundity has become typical form and
surface} he makes no gesture which is not in accordance with
the Book of Rites, nor does he betray one which did not give
adequate ｅxpression just to him and only to him. His con-
versation is singularly instructive. I have never met such
profound understanding among Chinese for non-Chinese
questions, not to mention Chinese ones. And yet Shen is one
of the most extremely orthodox Confucians whom I have
known} he is hostile to innovations, reactionary, a scholar of
the old school who regards alien literature as hardly worth
knowing. He has penetrated so profoundly into himself that
everything human is a matter of course to him, while the fewest
of external considerations suffice for him in order to anticipate
every human significance. I realise once more that every mani-
festation, even the most limited, is a possible ｅxpression of the
infinite.
I am thankful for having seen this image of human perfec-
tion with my very own eyes. For a long time I intended to
write a general summary of the nature of the Chinese, but I
always waited in case I should encounter some fact which
would demand the enlargement of its scope. I will not meet
a richer nature, a more perfect culture in China than is em-
bodied in Shen. Therefore, I may to-day, with the concrete
vision before my eyes, proceed to the execution of my inten-
tion with a good conscience. I must summarise and illuminate
from one single source what I have noticed and written down
independently during my stay in China.
Let it be well understood that I am to-day concerned with
the definition of the general characteristics of the Chinese, not
with their concrete and specialised embodiments} I am con-
cerned solely with that which, on the one hand, can be described
in abstracto^ and has, on the other, symbolical significance for
the whole of mankind. The concrete Chinese substance is an
absolutum, which can neither be deduced nor delineated as an
example} this essential substance remains outside the limit of
my observations. only this much I will put down while the
impression of Shen Chi-P'si is fresh in my mind: the Chinese
134 CHINA PART v
substance is something very great, a life-force which, in power
if not in richness, can hardly be excelled.
THE Chinese is unquestionably less individualised than the
European; a man like Shen is much nearer to a coolie than an
intellectual is to an agricultural labourer among us; this strikes
one all the more as the differences between the classes in China
are very much greater than in our case, which counteracts the
relation described above. Even the greatest Chinaman is not
personality in Goethe's sense. Thus, certain definite limits
which cannot be exceeded are laid down for him: everything
which presupposes a differentiated consciousness of uniqueness
or singularity is beyond his power: thus, individual character-
isation, individualised love, especially that infinite and yet
purely personal love which Christ is supposed to feel for every
soul; Chinese charity represents, where it exists, no personal
relation to the individual, but rather, like Stoic humanity, an
abstract one in relation to generality. For this reason the
Chinese lacks the personally creative quality which neces-
sarily presupposes the consciousness of uniqueness; for this
very reason he is an intellectual! Intellectualism is produced
everywhere as the subjective reflection of objective uniformity;
where a non-individualised type of men (which nota bene is
never the earliest! primitive people are much more individual-
ised than the Chinese) is gifted with considerable intelligence,
it professes without exception the ideal of uniformity, of sys-
tematisation; it postulates unlimited possibilities for generalisa-
tion, for nothing is so natural to intellect as generalising.
Where the facts thoroughly justify this process the more
non-individualised a people, the more do general and abstract
considerations do justice to the individual the original inclina-
tion is strengthened in the course of time. Thus, a further
barrier is set to the possibilities of mental life. The Chinese
as an intellectual has no conscious relation to metaphysical
reality; he remains, so far as he thinks, on the surface of
things.
It is most significant that the Chinese, in spite of these bar-
CHAP.45 SHANGHAI 135
riers, is our equal in all essential mental directions; the recog-
nition and ｅxpression of essential Being do not presuppose a
condition of individualisation. As a mystic he is the equal of
the greatest Europeans and Indians, for mystic recognition im-
plies realising the fundamental principle of life which is the
same everywhere. The Chinese possesses a direct relation to
absolute goodness and beauty because the realisation of the
absolute ideal is exclusively the function of perfection and in-
dependent of the nature of its elements. Wherever essentials
are in question, there is no trace of narrowness in him. This
is so, because Being lies at a greater depth than individual-
ity. This truth China has demonstrated for all time.
In so far as the Chinese is not very individualised, one may
say that he is on a lower level of nature than we are. No mat-
ter how little I like the dogma of evolution: a man as a mental
being does develop in the sense of progressive differentiation,
and in this way we have got further than the Chinese. But
equally certainly, we have gone less far than they have in cul-
ture, for this depends upon the degree to which a given natural
condition has been developed. In cultural accomplishment
the Chinese is the most advanced man; the whole of his
natural disposition is transfused with spirit, and its ｅxpression
seems perfect everywhere. Thus the example of China proves
something more: that culture belongs to a different dimension
from progress. It proves yet another thing: that ultimately
everything depends upon education in its widest sense, because
on and in spite of his low natural level, the Chinese has ap-
proached more nearly than we have done hitherto to the real-
isation of the ideal of humanity.
Accordingly, the nature of the Chinese represents, on the one
hand, a rest from past stages of development, and, on the other,
an anticipation of the ideal of the future. For me there can be
no doubt that the most highly developed individuals of future
times will be nearer to the traditional Confucian than to the
modern man, that the social order of the future will be more
akin to that of the Chinese than what is hoped for by our
Utopians. The man of the future will surely be autonomousj
there will not be many external barriers, and the existing ones
136 CHINA PART v
will be condemned as ps-aller, as has been the case in China
for thousands of years. But men will of their own accord,
from their own higher insight, mark their own limitations j
they will think superindividually, not individually. This stage
of perfected super-individual thought will, however, be more
closely akin to the subindividual thought of China than to our
modern thinking.
The traditional Chinese type, accordingly, has much the
same relation to the highest conceivable condition of humanity
as the mythically expressed wisdom of the ancients has to its
scientific confirmation in a more precise form. To go beyond
the Rishis in significance is hardly possible j but the same recog-
nition can be better expressed. Just so Chinese culture will
never be excelled in significance. As far as ｅxpression is con-
cerned, its insufficiency is connected, in all principal points,
with their intellectualism. The ideal of concretion, in itself an
absolute one for this world, becomes realised in China, not in
the perfection of incomparable unique souls, but in the perfect
presentation of a norm, with the result that the prof oundest
elements in men remain untouched. The highest aim would
be to realise the ideal of concretion by means of the pure sub-
jective self. The profoundest layer in man is pure subjectiv-
ity, which cannot be made objective nor taken hold of from the
outside j it is our problem to live directly in it and by it. The
Chinese does this indirectly through self -surrender to objec-
tive wisdom. Such wisdom, no matter how profound and
embracing it may be, does not do justice to particular phenom-
ena, it is only cognisant of types 5 it must externalise, since it
does not take the individual soul as a starting-point, but the
abstract relations which exist between many; it must level,
because it only considers generalities; and the harmony which
it creates eventually lives at the expense of possible wealth.
If one day we succeed, by means of the free initiative of per-
fectly developed individualities who strive with singleness of
purpose after their personal perfection, in creating a harmony
as complete as that which exists in China, then the social ideal
will have been realised.
one word more in connection with our greater originality
CHAP.45 SHANGHAI 137
compared with the people of the East. It does not imply an
unqualified advantage, for it is compensated by a correspond-
ingly poorer memory. East and West embody, at the moment,
the opposite poles of life, that of innovation and that of mem-
ory. The stereotyped quality of nature is nothing but memory,
her new creations mean nothing else than inventions, and both
together seem indispensable for the continuation of the world.
Actually, however, new formations and tenacity to existing
forms are mutually exclusive. Almost every creative spirit has
complained of a bad memory, most people with a good one have
few ideas. The power of memory of people in the East is
overwhelming; it might almost be defined as the incapacity
to forget. No less enormous is the durability of the forms
of life there, and their physical vitality. Cultural formations
degenerate in the East as slowly as those of nature do in the
whole world. We degenerate as soon as we do not progress.
This is due to the fact that we have bad memories. The con-
tinuation of our existence seems possible only in so far as we
continue to invent. Will we be able to continue invention for
ever? Or will we one day swing across to the opposite pole of
life? Or will we disappear altogether from this planet after a
brief and hasty course? No one can tell.
TO-MORROW I leave the Middle Kingdom; what do I take
away with me? More instruction than I shall be able to utilise
in the course of years. And yet I feel unsatisfied: no matter
how much China has given me, it has not changed me; I pass
from it almost exactly as I came. Contrary to my own tempera-
ment, I have been an observer here from the beginning to the
end; no matter how much I have been absorbed in the Chinese,
the period of being different seems to have meant remarkably
little to me. How strange: China has impressed me more than
any other country; it has taught me an immeasurable amount;
I have, moreover, developed a real affection for it. And yet I
pass from it with a slight feeling of resentment.
When I reflect on this feeling I discover its cause soon
enough. I have gained less from China than from other coun-
138 CHINA PART v
tries, objectively less interesting, in the same sense as Agra
meant little to me in comparison with the wilderness of the
Himalayas, and just as all art in general has always meant
little to me compared with nature. In regarding the art o
men, with the exception of the greatest, I never get beyond
my original possibilities; I learn, perhaps, to speak new lan-
guages, to express myself better in the ones that I know, I
become conscious of sides in myself which I would otherwise
have overlooked, but I remain confined in my humanity with
its narrow boundaries. This typical misfortune has overtaken
me in China to an unusual degree, because the Chinese, of all
people, are the most human; they have gone further than
any others in the differentiation of their peculiarity. And al-
though they have expressed, in a degree hitherto unattained, in
the particular what is generally human, and in the human that
which is more than human, the very exhaustive nature of the
ｅxpression brings it about that the resultant picture represents
something all too human. To carry moral culture so far that
the outer order appears as the necessary result of free wills in-
terfering with each other is no doubt a supreme achievement,
but simultaneously it is all too human, for only men perfect
themselves in the social community. To stylise emotional life
to such a degree that objective ritual appears as the adequate
ｅxpression of subjective impulses that is equally a supreme
achievement, but it is also equally all too human: for urbanity
is only in question for men. The Chinese possesses, as the most
deeply rooted being, the most universal background, but what
is universal has been squeezed in his case into what is purely
human, with the result that the human quality appears en-
hanced to an incredible degree. I too am, until further notice,
a human being; and if I tarry in the atmosphere of heightened
humanity, then my limitedness also becomes increased. I am in
danger of becoming crystallised in my peculiarity, and that is
what I fear.
If only Chinese civilisation were difficult to understand as a
phenomenon, which can be said in a high degree of the Indian
civilisation, then it would nevertheless possess stimulating
powers. Ants must seem uninteresting to other ants because
CHAP.45 SHANGHAI 139
every one of them exhausts the nature of ants as completely
as a statue of Phidias exhausts the possibilities of Greek phy-
sique, so that none offers something new to another, but their
contemplation helps me nevertheless, because entering with
my feelings into their f all-too-ant-like' nature at any rate draws
me away from the 'all-too-human' quality. In relation to the
Chinese I am as one ant to another; of all nations they are the
most immediately intelligible. The matter-of-f actness of their
fundamental temperament, the predominance of common sense
over the imagination, their delight in the obvious, their cult of
the classical ideal, result in the fact that none of their mani-
festations, no matter how intricate it may appear at a distance,
offers the least difficulty to the intelligence of any one who
examines it minutely. There is no Chinese ideal which could
not serve as an example for every one, there is no chinoiserie
to which every one could not do justice* Thus there is noth-
ing in the atmosphere of Chinese culture which stimulates the
mind as such: it confirms one, on the contrary, in the routine of
humanity.
It is true that Chinese nature is grand j on the few occasions
on which its spirit got hold of me, I advanced inwardly tre-
mendously. But in China, men have placed nature in the back-
ground as nowhere elsej here, culture rules supreme. In
Europe this is not the case half so much, in spite of the greater
efficacy of our cultural methods, because there man, in order
to control nature, has entered into its own meaning and there-
fore enhanced its manifestations} in China, one sees the most
intense human culture impressed as it were upon an inert soil.
For this reason the contemplation of Chinese nature helps one
only exceptionally beyond the human realm. How tragic that
the highest manifestation in itself no longer stimulates the
mind, but blunts it! one no longer feels the perfectly ex-
pressed primordial force; where all possibilities have been ex-
hausted, nothing remains for the mind to wish for. The 'Rus-
sian man' appears to the Western European of to-day as the
most primordial of all; that is because he is the most unaccom-
plished of all talented people, the most opposed to the Chinese.
He is intrinsically no more primordial than the latter. If I
140 CHINA PART v
have learnt anything in China, it is that perfection does not lead
to diminished spontaneity (no matter how often it does so)}
the civilised individual does not need to be less vital than the
barbarian. The appearance of the essential lifelessness of ex-
pressed forms is purely due to the fact that they do not stimu-
late the observer. Plants and animals are not denied original-
ity by any man, and they are more perfect in their sphere than
any man has ever been because they do stimulate him; in order
to understand them, he must himself create the transition from
appearance to significance, and for this reason that which
strikes him as rigid and lifeless among his peers seems to ani-
mate him here. But this recognition alters nothing in the fact
that the perception of accomplishment does not induce con-
tinued creation in the mind* For this reason, the product of
culture is less significant for us than that of nature; for the
same reason I part with less benefit from the most civilised
humanity which exists than I parted from the primeval forests
of Ceylon.
The contemplation of Chinese civilisation throws much light
upon the relation of nature and spirit. I wrote it down already
in the Himalayas: creation expresses its principle without being
the principle itself. The appearances of culture are, as such,
no nearer to their spiritual cause than those of nature j they too
are 'nature,' not 'spirit' j here, too, as soon as manifestation has
become perfect, it is all over with spontaneity. From the meta-
physical point of view there is no difference between dead
institutions and the array of the stars. In the routine of judi-
cial proceedings no more living spirit is manifested than in the
circulation of heavenly bodies. Thus also, Chinese civilisation
in its present typical shape is 'nature/ not 'spirit 7 ; it is no form
of freedom.
All freedom is fulfilled in limitation. For the moment,
however, I am satiated with fulfilment} I long for the ecstasy
of innovation: most of all I long to be away from that which is
all too human. I almost wish I already had Japan behind me,
and were sailing for the South Seas, where there are said to be
such strange and weird-looking fishes.
PART SIX: JAPAN
46
THROUGH YAMATO
I BEGIN my stay in Japan with a walking tour through Ya-
mato, that province with which the oldest and holiest tradi-
tions of the country are associated. It is the time for the pil-
grimages to the Buddhistic sanctuaries. All the streets and
forests are teeming with life; half Japan seems to be on holi-
day excursions. I share, as far as possible, the life of my fel-
low-travellers, I try to think and to feel with them and to per-
ceive with their senses.
The nature of Japan is probably unrivalled in delicacy and
wealth. There are a surprising number of different conifers,
the leaf -bearing trees are marvellously manifold, and no artist
could have contrasted the colour and form perceived at various
levels more artistically. Small wonder that the Japanese are
endowed with much feeling for natural form! Just as the
man whom a happy fate has brought up in the midst of art
treasures which he was allowed to regard, not as some strange
magnificence, but as his natural surroundings, possesses, even if
only mediocrely gifted, such taste and an eye for art by nature
as an artistically much more gifted child of barbaric countries
can acquire only exceptionally it is in the same sense that a
richly differentiated nature is beneficial in effect. In latitudes
where the contrasts of light and colour are so great that their
delicate shades remain unnoticed, the nation with the greatest
visual gifts does not achieve as much in landscape painting as in
districts possessing more favourable conditions of light ref rac-
tionj it is not for nothing that the landscape painting of the
West flourished and accomplished most in Holland, and not in
Italy. Now as to Japan, it simply compels the eye to perceive
just those relations of colour and form which characterise
Japanese art. A specific scale of values is revealed there as a
fact of nature. And once it has been perceived and understood,
then an artistic mind continues to create in accordance with it
involuntarily. This process, this continuing to compose in the
spirit and meaning of nature, has been practised by the artists
143
144 JAPAN PART vi
of the Far East from early days with an understanding never
evinced by us. It is as if nature's own struggle for beauty had
become conscious in them, as if man was the special organ by
means of which Nature attained her final perfection} here man
seems, as it were, responsible for the extremest harmony.
Whence this marvellous ability? The explanation is to be
found in the method of visual training* Chinese and Japanese
painters are Yogis j they do not regard nature from the outside,
but they become absorbed in it as the mystics become absorbed
in God. In this process they get beyond their humanity and
become one with the spirit of nature. For man is not only
man, he is simultaneously, in various parts of his being, ani-
mal, plant, rock and sea} only he rarely becomes conscious
of the fact and only knows how to feel as a human being. If,
however, he learns to be at one with what apparently lives as
something strange outside him, then he can bring it forth out
of himself. Thus, there really dwells, in Far Eastern land-
scape pictures, the life of the landscape; thus the Japanese
succeed almost playfully in utilising nature artistically and yet
as nature. The incredible perfection of Japanese flower deco-
rations is due to the fact that the very spirit of the flowers ar-
ranges the nosegay into a nosegay; professionally cultivated
forests are not ugly in Japan, as in Germany, because here
men, instead of imposing their intention upon the trees, assist
them in doing what they would like to do themselves. The
natural rotation of the plants is taken into consideration, never
forgetting the special conditions of the soil. And if an over-
grown tree on a slope forms a beautiful silhouette, well, they
let it stand there, even if, from a forestry point of view, it
ought to be cut down.
Of course, to travel so far in the understanding of nature,
one must be a Japanese. I do not believe that a gardener of
any other people would know how to dwarf trees in the Japa-
nese sense, without any violation of nature: as far as I can see*
there is no teachable method for it, it depends entirely upon
an inner understanding. Every morning the 'tree-trainer'
looks at his little plants carefully, and then takes away a
leaf or a shoot! Why just this one? He could not tell you
CHAP. 46 YAMATO 145
himself; but he knows that just this organ must be extirpated
in order that the inner impulse for growth does not lead beyond
the prescribed dimension, and his success justifies him almost
every time. Such powers of intuition can probably not be
explained j one has to let them pass as miraculous. But it seems
certain to me, anyhow, that the marvellously different shades
in Japanese nature, the alteration in living manifestations which
is brought about in Japan by the slightest change in the soil,
is an important consideration in the development of existing
talent. I too am beginning to observe, as I have never ob-
served bef orej it seems to me as if I had been blind until a few
days ago. And I enjoy the wondrous gift of vision so intensely
that I cannot watch the otherwise so welcome twilight without
regret.
I AM now tramping through distant valleys which are hardly
ever visited by white men. To the villagers I am the object of
unending amusement. They are as friendly and obliging as
they possibly can be, only they laugh, wherever I turn, because
of what seems to them my superhuman stature. This morning,
as I was climbing up a steep mountain path, I suddenly felt
myself pushed from behind 5 when I turned round, two exceed-
ingly pretty girls laughed and ran away: they had wanted to
find out how heavy I was. There is something marvellous
about the nature of backwoodsmen. I know it well from my
home. Every time I visit my out-of-the-way forest estates, I
find a new opportunity for reverential surprise at the impor-
tance of the most everyday events within small circles, and I
notice how enormously a narrow perspective enhances the
significance of what is not a portion of the daily round. My
keeper hardly regards the itinerant workmen from the islands,
who speak a different Esthonian dialect from his own, as
human beings j they are strangers to him. He reports to me:
'Lately a certain Michael lived here no one knows exactly
where he comes from his manner is queer something seems
to be wrong with him,' This Michael then proves to be the
most trivial of all average creatures, but he stands out against
146 JAPAN PART \a
the everyday background of the backwoodsman as a figure as
big, as plastic, as gigantic as a hero of Homer. And how per-
fect these backwoodsmen are! Among the lower classes of
our time, form and content amalgamate into unity perhaps
only in them. In order to be perfect in ample circumstances,
one must have many generations behind one which have en-
larged one's horizon and one's natural sphere of activity; it
does not happen all at once from to-day to to-morrow. Thus,
in the rapidly moving modern world in which the peasant's
son often ends as a rich citizen, only what is eccentric appears
interesting; it is not for nothing that the writers of our day
have a predilection for criminals, psycho-pathological individ-
uals and swindlers. This implies, of course, a jaute de mieux,
that concentric perfection is the higher value. Eccentricity is
essentially exclusive, concentricity essentially inclusive, and for
this reason the concentric man is, in all circumstances, the
richer, profounder and more substantial; he alone can express
flawlessly the deepest being in his own appearance. Among
backwoodsmen every one preserves his peculiarity and it is
readily recognised in every one; in the wide amorphous mass
each and all want to be alike. Their essential formlessness
conditions a more slavish adherence to convention. The sum
of all the figures has, as it were, to produce the form which no
single figure possesses in itself.
The nature of the Japanese backwoodsman is more sympa-
thetic to me than that of any other which I have ever seen. It
possesses all the sweetness, gentleness, thoughtfulness, all
the charm and good-heartedness which have made the lower
classes of these latitudes seem so lovable to me since I have
read Lafcadio Hearn. These poor people here are lovable.
Their politeness undoubtedly comes from the heart; I have
noticed no greed or the wish to take unfair advantage of one.
Perhaps they show me their best side because, following the
suggestion of my companion, a young poet from Kyoto, I treat
them as at home, as a feudal lord, I treat my patriarchally
minded peasantry. In the out-of-the-way valleys of Yamato
the Middle Ages are not yet past; there the era of Meiji has
hardly begun; there the peasants still expect superiority, mag-
CHAP. 46 Y A M A T O 147
nanimity, distance, from their lord, they expect that conscious-
ness of absolute superiority which, for this very reason, allows
extreme familiarity. There they still want to look up. How
gladly I reverted to a part which our world offers less and less
opportunity for playing! And the practical result was that
people were found everywhere who rendered me services and
showed attention without wishing to accept payment for it.
I AM halting in a prosperous village close to a foaming river
full of trout. Where in the world is the child of the people
anything like as cultured as in Japan? Whatever he does dis-
plays culture j he permits nothing unclean or uglyj the most
exquisite consideration controls the behaviour of every one to
each other. And especially as far as the children are concerned,
I have never seen such delightful ones anywhere. They hardly
ever appear to be unruly, which is apparently due to the fact
that they are treated with complete understanding, and are yet
never spoilt: even the tiniest have consideration impressed upon
them. There is incredibly little selfishness herej every one
seems to live joyfully for others, contributing his portion so
that the whole shall become as harmonious as possible.
In idea it is the same in China. When Confucianism came
to Japan, its inhabitants accepted it as the transfigured and
deepened ｅxpression of that which had always been habitual
to them, and the perfect ｅxpression of its own led to deeper
understanding and the consolidation of traditional customs.
None the less: what a difference compared with the Middle
Kingdom! Confucianism is cautious peasant wisdom, the
Japanese culture of consideration seems to me to be something
instinctive, I would almost like to say an animal impulse. The
Japanese are cleanly as cats are cleanly, they are polite in the
same way in which penguins are polite, they are considerate
of each other with the same matter-of-courseness with which
mothers love their children} thus, their ｅxpression is of a piece
with the perfection of animals. The Japanese have nothing of
Chinese profundity and gravity. They seem to me to be super-
ficial, poor in imagination, matter of fact to an almost inhuman
148 JAPAN PART vi
degree; simultaneously, they are extraordinarily susceptible,
possessing sensitivity in the widest sense as no Chinese does.
Their whole sphere o sensation seems to be 'pervious* in
the same sense as only compassion is among us. That which is
based upon metaphysical realisation with the Chinese rests upon
physiological sensitiveness with them.
I am reminded of Sontoku Ninomiya, that peasant sage who
did so much for his countrymen in the first half of the nine-
teenth century, the description of whose life and whose doc-
trines has since then been distributed among the people as a
gospel by the Government. 1 I must think of this simple coun-
tryman, who embarked upon a life of complete unselfishness
as soon as he had worked his way up from direst poverty,
and did not cease to toil endlessly and exclusively up to the
hour of his death for the improvement of the conditions of
others: according to the letter, he was a genuine Confucian, nor
did he consider himself to be anything else. In reality he was
absolutely unique, a man who in the whole of Asia was con-
ceivable only on Japanese soil. He lacked the wide horizon of
the Chinese sages, he lacked their omniscience and their uni-
versal outlook j regarded philosophically, he was superficial.
But, thanks to his capacity for sympathy and the energy which
he had at his disposal, he achieved more in practice, even if on
a small scale. Sontoku was, at bottom, a Christian j his prob-
lems were those of the Christian love of one's neighbour. Can
this be the main cause of the fact that the Japanese have West-
ernised themselves so quickly and successfully? We too are
less thoughtful and profound than the Chinese and the In-
dians j we are merely more energetic and more sensitive. Prob-
ably, what we call Christian love is determined much more
physiologically than theologically.
THE Japanese are, no doubt, closely related to us in many
waysj now that I have turned my attention to the matter, it
iThe title of this book is Hotokuki; it has been translated into English by
Todasu Yoshimoto and published by Longmans, Green & Co. under the title
A Peasant Sage of Japan*
CHAP. 47 KOYA-SAN 149
strikes me more and more. The: energy o the Japanese, too, is
kinetic, and his consciousness is turned towards the outside,
but above all he is equally curious and keen on innovation as
we are. Regarded metaphysically, is it not perhaps accidental
that his culture is nevertheless an ｅxpression of the Chinese
spirit? I have endeavoured, during these days which I have
spent uninterruptedly in the company of pilgrims, to enter
into the soul of the Japanese, and the little which I have recog-
nised so far hardly permits me to doubt any longer that this
people would have become quite different under different
influences. I am all the more grateful for the fact that history
did not take another course, but just the one it did: the Jap-
anese people owes its singular charm undoubtedly to the
Chinese schooling} all the manifestations which delight me
are familiar to me in idea from China. And so I ask myself
how we Northern barbarians would have developed if we had
been subjected to Chinese influences instead of to Greco-Ro-
man ones: would we perhaps have got further than we have
done? Presumably we would, even then, be 'Christians' under
one name or another; we would be as energetic, inventive and
active as we arej aesthetically and morally, we would surely be
much more cultured. We would be less advanced in techni-
calities, and there would not be industrial towns upon earth
even to-morrow. But would this have involved any intrinsic
disadvantage, if the Germanic races had drawn their cultural
treasures, not from Rome, but from Loyang? I do not know.
It is difficult for me to judge without bias, because I notice in
Europeans mainly what they lack, and in the Asiatics what
speaks in their favour.
47
IN THE MONASTERY OF KOYA-SAN
I AM ending my wanderings through Yamato with a pilgrim-
age to the mountain Koya-San, whose summit is crowned
with the most famous monastery of Japan. It lies in the shade
of conifers hundreds of years old. I never saw a more holy
150 JAPAN PART vi
grove. Of all the trees which I know, the cryptomeria calls
to life religious associations most compellingly and powerfully.
This tree has the duskiness of the cypress yew-tree, it sym-
bolises joyful hope like the Thugaj at the same time it has the
majesty, the cosmic power and immortal quality of the fir-tree.
The monastery is a typically Japanese building. It consists
of low houses built of wood, with beautifully curved roofs, and
is surrounded by attractive gardens j I expected the same atmos-
phere of delicacy and charm as elsewhere when I beheld
something similar in Japan, Instead of this, there is an air
about the place which I am familiar with from Europe, but
which, in spite of everything I have learned since, I did not
expect to breathe in Japan; it is the atmosphere of Christian
mediseval monasticism. There is something commanding,
even warlike, powerful, violent, in this air, in spite of the
gentle charm of all its individual manifestations, I can imag-
ine the monks here just as well fighting as praying} the abbot
I can picture best as a prince of the Church in the mediseval
sense. And this is a Buddhistic place of pilgrimage! How far
away are those hot regions, where gentle, dark-coloured men
and women bring their floral offerings to the Buddhas who
squat placidly on their thrones! The spirit which dominates
Koya is not a spirit of sufferance and non-volition, not the spirit
of longing to be out of the turmoil of the world; it is abso-
lutely alien to the spirit of India. It is essentially one with the
spirit which animated our ancestors, from the days of the Caro-
lingians to the end of the Middle Ages.
I try to visualise what I know of the history of Japanese
Buddhism. In the frontier districts between India and Central
Asia, the land of Gandhara, a wonderful religion came to be
developed in the course of the first centuries after Christ.
According to the letter, it was the religion of Buddhism, ac-
cording to the spirit, a variety of the Bhakti, the emotionalistic
form of ｅxpression of Brahmanism, in which the divinity bears
a personal Character and in which faith and love pass as the
cardinal virtues j but according to its dogmatic concepts, it
was something completely new for India: a religion of salva-
tion in the Christian sense. At that time a longing for salva-
CHAP. 47 KOYA-SAN 151
tion filled the whole world. All over the surface of the earth
communities sprang up whose centre was a past, present or
future Messiah, the air was pregnant with the expectation of
revelation, and the spirit of the age seemed uniform, from
Alexandria to the Far East, to a degree such as has never been
the case since. Indian teachings had found their way to Egypt
and vice versa, doctrines from Syria and Asia Minor, among
these Christianity in its many varieties, had penetrated with the
merchants as far as China, the Greek sphere of ideas had taken
firm root in the valley of Kabul, together with the Greco-
Parthian princes, with the result that all local religions were
either transformed or at any rate fructified by the universal
spirit of that epoch. In this way, Christianity, originally an
unimportant and limited belief of an obscure sect, was devel-
oped in the West into a grand, all-embracing world religion;
the same thing happened with Buddhism in Gandhara.
Gautama, the man, became transformed into a god, who had
assumed human shape for the salvation of the whole of crea-
tion y the specifically Indian doctrine of salvation by recognition
gave way more and more to the specifically Catholic doctrine
of salvation by faith. Buddhism was eventually changed from
a philosophical conception of the world, which knew of neither
God nor soul, into a Church which differed from the Christian
in nothing fundamental,
It will probably never be decided which influences played
the chief part in this transformation} but it may safely be sup-
posed that all influences which were in question at all contrib-
uted to this result, in view of the great plasticity of Maha-
yana, the general Oriental tendency not to take manifestations
seriously metaphysically, and the specifically Indian inclination
to stress the common factor of various elements. Among
others, Christianity, which began just at that time to develop
into a great spiritual power in its Gnostic, Ophitic and Nestorian
varieties in Central Asia, played its part. Still, Mahayana re-
mained purely Indian in its nature for a long time; India's
superior spirit gave life to the body of its mental images, no
matter whence they may have been derived. Even in China,
the new Buddhism remained essentially Indian. But when it
152 JAPAN PART vi
reached Japan it changed fundamentally very soon: it was sub-
stantially influenced (what had hardly happened in China)
by the practical spirit of Confucianism, which had penetrated to
Japan a little earlier, and it was soon wedded and partially
intermingled with the local worship of gods and ancestors. It
was a religion of soldiers. Buddhism in Japan adapted itself
more and more to the knightly spirit. This explains why it is
here so reminiscent of the spirit of our Middle Ages.
Japanese Buddhism is indeed fundamentally different from
the Buddhism which Gautama, the ascetic, had founded once
upon a time. But the man who would say thereupon that it is
not Buddhism at all but Christianity, could be told with
justice by a Japanese that our Christianity, too, cannot be
regarded really as Christianity. The idea of a saviour, which
is common to-day to both religions, was the property of neither
originally: it is only St. Paul who transfigured the Jewish
Messiah to the Hellenistic croi^p. The soul of Egyptian
monasticism, whose example has contributed more to the con-
version of the West than all gospels and epistles, was the
wisdom not of Jesus, but of Egyptian Neo-Platonism; the
teaching of Origen (to say nothing of Gnosis) was more akin
to the spirit of Iran and Hindustan than to that of Palestine,
and that which ultimately penetrated to the barbarians of the
north and became the faith of the Crusaders, is something
totally different from original Christianity. Nevertheless,
Christianity is to be traced back to this original form, more
essentially than to apparently more closely related manifesta-
tions, so that we are fully justified in calling ourselves Chris-
tians. The spiritual forces which are actively manifest in his-
tory assume different forms, according to the natures through
which they actj they can do so because no definite form is
necessary or essential to them* The experience of love in the
Christian sense can fall as well to the lot of woman as to that
of man, to the man of action as well as to the sufferer, to the
priest as well as to the warrior, and it expresses itself differ-
ently in each one of them to such an extent that the ｅxpressions
are often completely contradictory. Nevertheless, they regard
themselves as the children of one spirit, and justifiably soj
CHAP. 47 KOYA-SAN 153
the peculiar modality of his personal experience, as such,
gives the Christian, not this or that profession, this or that
method of behaviourj his love was unknown to the Hindus
and to the Neo-Platonists; it goes back solely to Jesus. A
certain quality of love is the essential quality of Christianity,
and this has remained unchanged through all the transforma-
tions in appearance, from the days of Jesus to the present age.
Just so, Japanese Buddhism, in spite of all foreign influences
which have fashioned its empirical nature, is Buddhism in
essence. It is not perhaps Buddhism in the same sense in which
Christianity is Christianity: the specific charity which animates
it is more generally Indian than specifically Buddhist, more
in accordance with Krishna than with Gautama j but this Indian
form of love penetrates it throughout. And if it manifests
itself very differently in Japan from the way it does in India,
then this appears as a parallel to what happened within Chris-
tendom: Buddhist, like Christian, love is capable of manifold
manifestations 5 both remain essentially what they are, no mat-
ter how they are represented. Regarded from the point of
view of an absolute ideal, their manifestations appear neither
here nor there as of equal value, but they have proved them-
selves in practice to be equally beneficial, especially from the
angle of Buddhist charity, which demands that every phenom-
enon shall be measured only by the standard of its own pos-
sible perfection. It cannot be expected of young, energetic,
active men that they should feel love and compassion as a
maiden does; they should, whatever happens, act for the sake
of good. If they fight, it should be for an ideal, if they flare
up, it should be from rage at the oppression of the weak} thus
the ideal is brought nearer to realisation even by them. And
this takes place quicker than one thinks. Constant action sub-
ject to an idea, no matter how little it is understood, prepares
the path for the idea to become conscious} even the most hate-
inspired battle for the ideal of love develops the capacity for
love. There is a profound truth in the myth of a 'Providence, 3
which, in slow and quiet toil and often contrary to all appear-
ances, turns everything to good account: the spiritual forces
which became manifest in Christ and Buddha really continue to
154 JAPAN PART vi
operate unceasingly, and, instead of becoming weaker in the
course of time, they become more powerful from millennium
to millennium.
Marvellous indeed is the manner in which the same signifi-
cance conditions similar manifestations everywhere. Unfor-
tunately, our age has little understanding for such processes.
The history of Christianity is often regarded as a progressive
degeneration, because its development has led away from
original Christianity, and the same applies to Buddhism.
For the moment I will assume that original Christianity and
original Buddhism embody the highest phases: even subject to
this supposition, it would be a mistake to place a low value on
the later formation, because a highest condition is attainable
only by a few chosen individuals, and a world religion which
is to save every one must take every one into consideration. It
must countenance temporary conditions, it must lead men
upwards lovingly, it must give them courage where they would
otherwise despair. That is just what the Christian Church,
especially in its mediaeval phase, understood and achieved in
the most masterly manner, and the later forms of the Buddhist
Church are animated by the same intention. But original
Christianity and original Buddhism do not embody the highest
human conditions at all, and thus the whole argument falls
to the ground. Christ and Buddha were possibly the greatest
of all human beings, and probably attained their supreme per-
fection, but they were, for all that, definite human beings,
their perfection was that of a definite type, namely the ascetic
type, and precluded all other forms of perfection. Accordingly,
original Christianity as well as original Buddhism were not
destined to direct the paths of mankind. They either had to
remain limited sects, or they had to enlarge their horizon if
they aimed at a wide sphere of effectiveness. This widening
has taken place in both cases, and in both cases it has made
these religions more profound. The Catholic Church is the
profounder system compared with that of the original Chris-
tians. It sounds like a dubious compromise, this justification
of war by love, of intolerance by generosity, of insufficiency by
the perfection in the beyond j in reality it does not refer a lower
CHAP.47 KOYA-SAN 155
Condition to a higher one, but it leads the lower towards the
higher, and hallows insufficiency as a stage upon the road to
the goal. The 'true doctrine' does not lie buried in the original
condition, it beckons, rather, as the ideal of a better future.
There is no doubt that the sayings of Jesus are understood
more profoundly to-day than they were heretofore. But this
does not mean that we recognise better what Jesus meant, but
that we are understanding more profoundly the true, that is to
say the objectively correct, meaning of His wisdom, whether
Jesus was aware of it Himself or not. Probably He was not
aware of it} His immediate disciples certainly were not, and
misunderstanding has governed for a long period most Chris-
tian manifestations. But this misunderstanding has prepared
the road for recognition; without Catholicism, Reformation
and counter-Reformation, without dogmatic conflicts and text-
criticism, we would never have got to the point from which we
can behold the pure meaning of Christianity/ In the same
way Northern Buddhism implies exactly what its followers
believe, not a degeneration, but the crowning of Hinayana.
Most of its doctrines can hardly be traced back to Gautama.
But they are very much nearer to the truth.
I know little which is more profound than the teaching of
Acvagosha nothing more far-sighted, more all-embracing,
than the Mahayana system, and this lies at the root of the
Japanese Church. But of course, this Church is not what it
might have become among Indians j as in our case, misunder-
standing has controlled its external development. All the
excrescences, re-, mal-, and de-formations which in our case are
characteristic, on the one hand, of Catholicism, on the other
of Protestantism, can also be established in the case of Japanese
Buddhism of to-day. There are sects which concern them-
selves chiefly with thaumaturgy, others in which a hierarchic
system throttles all individual life, and again others which
reject all traditional wisdom and teach the individual to rely
entirely on his own personal opinion. Even the extremest
manifestations which could be expected did not fail to appear:
1 1 have tried to define the Christian doctrine as it will live in the future in
my lecture Weltanschauung u. Lebensgestaltung' in Der Leuchter, 1924.
156 JAPAN PART vi
a religion which laid the greatest stress upon insight has de-
veloped into a religion of blind faith. Such a religion is most
readily professed by every one for whom thought presents a
difficulty. What penetrated to Japan originally was a philo-
sophical conception of the world which could only seem appro-
priate to Indians, this philosophical nation $ar excellence $ it
had to be changed in order to persist among the Japanese; and
this is what happened. At an early stage reformers appeared,
who shaped Mahayana, which in itself is capable of many
interpretations, into definite doctrines, which were more in
accordance with the Japanese temperament; salvation by faith
became more and more the fundamental dogma of Northern
Buddhism. And to-day the Shinshu sect, the most superficial
of all, according to which the mere calling upon the name of
Amida and trust in the efficacy of this practice is said to suffice
to guarantee eternal bliss to the faithful, threatens to expel all
others from Japan.
It is worth a great deal to me that my first personal contact
with Japanese Buddhism took place in its own stronghold:
here its peculiarity predominates absolutely over those ele-
ments which it has in common with other forms of Buddhism.
I would never have believed that from Indian foundations
something so Western could have developed: for the religion
of the monks of Koya-San is far more Western in effect than
it is Asiatic. They are remarkably akin to medieval Christians
in typej just what is best in them seems to be the child rather of
the Christian than of the Buddhist spirit, in so far as I abstract
the latter from what I have seen in Burma and Ceylon. There
is something like a specific ecclesiastic head, who is to be
found among all peoples; still, no one could mistake a Brah-
min for a Catholic prelate. A Japanese abbot, however, could
pass for the latter without further ado; his traits are fashioned
by a closely related spirit* This is evidently due to the fact
that both religions imply objectifications in a similar sense.
Even the Tantrikas, the ritualists among the Hindus, for
whom strict observance is the only means to salvation, regard
appearance nevertheless as Maya, not as necessarily related to
being. For the Catholics, the Church is the living body of
CHAP. 47 KOYA-SAN 15?
Christianity, which can be separated from its soul only by
death, and something similar seems to apply to Japanese Bud-
dhism. The latter does not profess a corresponding dogma,
on the contrary: in so far as it represents a philosophy it takes
appearance no more seriously than Brahmanism} even in Japan,
mutually exclusive professions are regarded as equally ortho-
dox. But the hieratic sense of the Chinese, whose primary in-
clination is to express all content directly and completely in
appearance, had given a highly organised body to Buddhism at
an early stage, which later grew in Japan, among more versatile
people, from a work of art more and more into a living being.
But both Churches the Catholic and the Buddhist yet
differ from each other most essentially. In the former, what is
objective is born of the intellect. No matter how irrational its
dogmas may be their relation and development have been
attended by pure reason. one and the same spirit of strict
rationality had animated all Christian manifestations of the
Middle Ages, from the theodicy to the spiritual hierarchy,
from the cathedral to the summa of Thomas Aquinas; mankind
has never, neither before nor since, attached such weight to
symmetry, to clarity and rational cohesion. The Japanese
objectification of spirit in the Church is wholly unintellectual,
and for this reason it lacks all the advantages which rationality
alone supplies. on the other hand, it is artistic in the highest
degree; her forms are never allegories, always symbols, and
they have all the advantages of an ｅxpression whose elements
are born of feeling. They are extraordinarily convincing in
effect; I recognise them as a matter of course; my soul uncon-
sciously enters into relation with God in Koya-San, in the
Buddhist manner. And I am beginning to guess that, in so
far as Confucius is right, the Japanese Church may be regarded
as the crown of Indian wisdom. Kung Fu Tse taught that
only such wisdom was to be regarded as perfect which ap-
peared in the form of charm: this has happened here. It is
the genuine spirit of Mahayana, all-embracing, earnest and
profound, which animates this form of Buddhism but its
appearance is pure beauty and charm. And this does not
estrange me: I have never, on the contrary, felt closer to the
IS8 JAPAN PART vi
prof oundest revelations of Indian wisdom than during the con-
templation of Japanese images of Buddha.
But strange: what moves me so much seems to say nothing
to the Japanese, nowhere do I feel a direct experience of the
harmony of appearance and significance; it seems as if they
did not know what they were doing when they materialised
the spirit of Mahayana. And as I let my gaze roam once
more over the monastery, with its golden temples, its decora-
tive clergy, within the magnificent frame of the cryptomeria
grove, suddenly reality is changed for me into a theatrical
scene. No, this Church in all its greatness and beauty is quite
unsubstantial. It really means nothing except as art. The
whole pathos of the Catholic Church is wanting. Where the
Christian lives, the Japanese Buddhist only represents.
Though this representation may possibly imply the extreme
possibilities of his experience. - * ,
I INSPECT the holy places together with the pilgrims who
came up with me to Koya. How different these pilgrims are
from Indian pilgrims! only women fairly advanced in years
seem to take their journey seriously in the religious sense; the
younger women regard it no differently from the men, as a
cheerful holiday excursion, during which many new things are
to be seen, and they wear the pilgrim garment chiefly from a
feeling for style, or from a delight in mummery. They listen
to the sagas and the marvellous stories which are connected
with the individual temples, with that semi-sceptical credulity
with which immature children listen to fairy-tales, and the
feeling of piety which takes hold of them in the place where
Kobo Daishi, the founder of the monastery, a great magician
and miracle-worker, is said to live to-day awaiting the day of
his resurrection, contains more curiosity than religious devo-
tion. Well, what the Koya pilgrim is expected to believe is
really asking rather too much of him. The Shingon sect, to
whom this monastery belongs, practises more magic than any
other, and the Japanese of to-day regard these practices very
sceptically. Even the priests do not seem to think too highly
CHAP. 47 KOYA-SAN 159
of their cult. They prefer to talk about Fichte and Kant, and
they evade my questions relating to dogma and cult with a
gentle smile. But all, priests as well as congregation, join in
the religious performances j not one of them wants to be a
spoil-sport. They all have too much feeling for form not to
carry out all ritual with artistic seriousness* Their seriousness
is really that of the comedian, who has entered into his part
wholeheartedly. This morning I missed the early Mass in
the temple where I am staying. As I expressed my regret to
the abbot at this fact, he declared himself at once ready to
celebrate it once more for me, because the very ancient ritual,
which had probably come via India from Egypt, would cer-
tainly interest me. This was done, of course, from politeness,
and I am heartily obliged to him, all the more so as this service
was actually one of the most remarkable which I have ever
attended. Nevertheless, I doubt whether a priest who is really
in earnest would go so far for the sake of courtesy.
It is quite correct; the Japanese mind lacks religious pro-
fundity in the Indian sense. Nowhere do I feel anything of
the inner experience which transfigures the faces of the pilgrims
in Benares or Rameshvaram5 and the conversations which I
have had with the priests concerning Mahayana doctrine did
not teach me anything whatever. And yet, Buddhism in Japan
seems to have a much more vital significance than one is led to
believe from the first casual impressions. The Japanese are
not religious in the Indian sense, nor in the Christian, for
they are wanting in profundity of recognition and imagina-
tive powers; when they do not think, they believe, as the simple
people do everywhere, in certain miraculous facts and cir-
cumstances; and when they have learned to think, they begin
to doubt. But the processes of thought are nothing essential
to the Japanese: what is most essential, most profound in
him, appears in his sensibility. I say in his sensibility, not in his
feeling, his soul, his heart; it is in the manner in which the
surface, not the depths, of his psyche answers to the im-
pressions of the internal and external worlds. The inner life
of the Japanese takes place on the whole in the domain of
sensibility, just as in the case of children and young women.
160 JAPAN PART vi
Here, too, his religiosity is expressed. The faith of a child is
no profound faith, and yet it leads directly to God. His kind
of faith, however, is the most lovable of all. Thus, the Jap-
anese religiosity, which, seen from the angle of the spirit, ap-
pears shallow, has created realities in the domain of sensibility
and in the realm of moods which belong to the most priceless
treasures of the human race. There is nothing more fragrant
than the religious lyricism of the country of the Rising Sun,
nothing more sweet than the conceptions of love which are
symbolised by Amida and Kwannon, nothing more ingeniously
delicate than the concept which the Japanese Buddhists asso-
ciate with life after death. The missionaries who understand
Christianity most profoundly, and who have at the same time
penetrated most deeply into the higher forms of Buddhism,
are, therefore, unanimous in their conviction that, if our ideas
of divine grace and love are the more profound in themselves,
the Japanese ideas and presentations of the same qualities are
the more beautiful. The process of concretion takes place in
the realm of sensibility; in this sphere the Japanese stands,
perhaps, higher than all other men. No wonder, therefore,
that in the individual instance, in spite of his essential super-
ficiality, he excels every one in the power of religious sensibility.
This is true, above all, of the Japanese woman: I can never
see enough of these delightful children, who bow, full of
reverence, before the golden tablets. They know nothing of
faith in the Indian sense; they probably do not even know
whether they believe; they laugh where they should be serious.
And yet, they are unmistakably animated by that very love
whose ideal is embodied by Avalokitecvara. I would almost
declare that they all feel, as in India perhaps only a Krishna
does, or as only a St. Francis of Assisi has felt among us; and
in their existence, which is so ready to sacrifice itself, in their
relation to those which are nearest to them, they practise daily
what it is beyond their power to understand.
THE same pilgrims who displayed so little feeling of so-
lemnity when visiting the Buddhistic sanctuaries now seem to be
CHAP. 47 KOYA-SAN 161
deeply moved when an expert guide leads them through the
cemetery. It is the most impressive cemetery which I have
seen; no country of Europe possesses a similar monument of
patriotic piety. We are following along an avenue of gigantic
cryptomeria, which leads for a good mile over the summit of
Koyaj at each stone monument erected to an individual or to
a family, our guide stops and calls out the name. And there is
no one who is not connected for ever with the history of Japan,
and not one of her great sons is missing. The famous Daimyo
clans have here their sign in stone j here rest the great military
leaders and the great statesmen. Not all of them are actually
buried on the Koya, but they all have their tombstones on it,
and it therefore seems as if the whole of Japan slumbers here,
... I look at the pilgrims who recently laughed and chatted
so light-heartedly. Now they seem as if transformed. Their
innermost depths have been stirred. The dainty surface is
transfused by profound seriousness.
Here for the first time I have come in contact with the soul
of Japan. It does not appear in the relation of the individual to
God, nor in the faith in transcendental reality, not in the
latter's realisation in thought or life: it expresses itself in the
relation of the Japanese to Japan. Patriotism is the prof oundest
factor in the Japanese. His relation to his country, its great-
ness, the continuance of its glorious existence, means to him
what the relation to Brahma means to the Indian, what mem-
bership of the universal order means to the Chinese, It is not
easy for us to enter into this quality of profundity} it is not
profound to us any more. But every one has known moments
during which feelings from a far-off hoary past have rushed
irrepressibly from a dark source into his consciousness, in
which blood relationship and national solidarity seemed pro-
founder ties to him than his relation to God or the universe.
In those moments he was related to the Japanese.
The man who attempts to visualise the soul of the Japanese
from the experience of such conditions will not regard it any
longer as superficial; he will recognise that the greatest pro-
fundity and extremity emanate from it. only it speaks a lan-
guage which is strange to us. We cannot revere anything con-
162 JAPAN PART vi
crete as the prof oundest significance. For us, loyalty can never
be a last instance, we can understand the metaphysical unity
of country, people, state, nation, family and ruling house,
which is still the living fundamental presupposition of every
not too Westernised Japanese, only with our intellect, and not
even the most patriotic modern European has experienced, in
times of peace, the feeling of absolute moral obligation towards
his country as such. The feeling which speaks out of the verses
of Take Hirose, the hero of *Port Arthur:
*As infinite as the dome of heaven above us
Is the debt we owe our Emperor;
Immeasurable as the deep sea below us
Is the debt we owe our country.
The time has come for us to pay our debts.'
This is a feeling which he will only appreciate when the
danger of war has temporarily changed his mode of conscious-
ness, when the monad has been transformed into a cell in the
national body, when, for the time being, he has ceased to
exist as an autonomous individuality. For him the individual
soul is the ultimate earthly garment of metaphysical reality.
All ideal demands are related to it, and in comparison with it
even the mother-country seems to be something superficial.
It is superficial, judged by the standard of the cognisant spirit,
but this does not necessarily imply that men who feel like the
Japanese are themselves superficial: their love of country
means an extreme of profundity. Every ｅxpression of life is
profound which is rooted in the principle of life. For this
reason only such thoughts are deep which go back objectively to
the basis of things that is to say, really deep thoughts in the
ordinary meaning of the word; but in the spheres of volition
and feeling, profundity is independent of objective depth;
there it depends on the degree to which subjective appearance
mirrors subjective being. Now the subjectivity of the Japanese
is defined by the ideas and feelings described above; for him
there is nothing beyond them. Consequently, they are pro-
found in relation to him. An essentially superficial people
CHAP.47 KOYA-SAN 163
would neither have vanquished the gigantic Empire of Russia,
nor would it, above all, have had the tenacity and courage of
sacrifice which was required in order to reorganise itself com-
pletely in a span of thirty years.
The prof oundest qualities of the Japanese are expressed in
patriotism. This profundity, seen from the angle of the mind,
is no doubt superficial, and in so far the general judgment
concerning him, namely that he- lacks depth, is justified.
Everywhere where appearance cannot be traced back to its
living background, to Japan, his understanding and his ability
fail. The Japanese is not deep nor can he be, either religiously,
in the sense of the Indians, or philosophically, in the sense of
the Germans, or more generally in any speculative sense. But
here, if anywhere, the truth becomes obvious that every appear-
ance within its limits can give ｅxpression to Atman. The per-
fection of the rose means the same before God as that of Bud-
dha; the former is nearer to God than the latter before he had
become perfect. Thus, the perfect patriotism of the Japanese
is worth more metaphysically than the higher insight of the
Westerner, which stops short half-way. And further, the per-
fection of the rose is something absolute: no man will ever
attain to it; in the sense of the rose, man stands below her.
Thus, the individualised and profoundly thinking peoples,
where the exceptional condition of national war does not de-
velop them retrogressively, are inferior as patriots to the
Japanese, The Indians whom I mean are altogether unpatri-
otic, as their consciousness regards manifestation as far beneath
them, the Chinese likewise, because their ideal of China is too
high to be touched by the accidents of history; we white men,
however, once closely related to the Japanese, will become
progressively less patriotic in their sense (in spite of the appear-
ance to the contrary, caused by the automatic activity of the
conscious spirit which evokes corresponding emotion by the
means of nationalistic theory and also by the solidarity of all
interests in the modern state), because a man's native country
can no more imply an extreme to the completely individualised
than to the most profound man, because individualism neces-
sarily produces world-citizenship. That is an advance from
164 JAPAN PART vi
the point of view of recognition. At the same time it weakens
physiological cohesion. The Japan of yesterday is closer than
our future to the ideal national condition.
I am studying the faces of a few officers who are accompany-
ing me through the cemetery} they are unmistakable Samu-
rais. An outlook on life shines in their eyes which is shared in
Europe only by posthumous sons of past centuries. I enquired
about a particularly magnificent monument which has only
been erected recently. It was put up to the memory of those
who fell in the Manchurian War, Russians as well as Japanese.
It is the noblest quality of knighthood to honour the enemy*
48
NARA
Now I delight in religious art. According to my feelings,
Buddhism has produced the highest of this kind upon
earth, and many of its most glorious monuments are to be
found in Japan, in and about Nara and Kyoto. How unspir-
itual do the highest manifestations of Christian imagination
appear by the side of those pictures in which Amida, embody-
ing the idea of light, itself transfigures earthly darkness, rising
like the sun over the mountains, or by the side of those con-
templative and beneficent Buddhas in which the peace of the
soul has perhaps received its final ｅxpression! In depth of
feeling the simple artists of our earthly Middle Ages were
probably not the inferiors of the Buddhists, but their feeling
was broken against their reason. They were educated to re-
gard the manifestations of their faith either literally as his-
torical or even scientific facts which, as such, signified something
ultimate or else to interpret them allegorically, and both these
attitudes rendered directness impossible. In rare cases their
religious feeling has nevertheless expressed itself directly in the
execution of Biblical designs and their effect is then all the
more moving; the majority of their works are only indirect ex-
pressions. The Buddhists, like all descendants of the Indian
spirit, never regarded dogmas and myths as more than means
CHAP. 48 KARA 165
of ｅxpression; they never treated them as substances. For this
reason, Buddhistic artists could succeed in what was denied
to Christians.
Probably all the fundamental conceptions of Far-Eastern
religious art are of Indian or Greco-Indian origin, and that
which has been preserved in Borobodur and Angkor Vat proves
by itself that the Hindus once upon a time were also great as
sculptors. Still, the greatest embodiments of their artistic
volition which have been preserved to us are not their work.
The most important religious art of the East was created by
Chinese masters, and their ideas have found their most fruitful
soil not in China but in Japan. It is a sign of profound misun-
derstanding to point again and again to the fact that Japanese
art is not indigenous: no art was ever absolutely indigenous}
Greek as well as Indian and Chinese sculpture was dependent
upon foreign countries in so far as their highest development
only began after external stimulus had fertilised the native
genius. It is true that Japanese religious art has remained
dependent upon its examples to the very end, that it has never
rivalled them and has developed nothing new from the old;
to this extent one cannot compare it fairly with Chinese art.
But it is nevertheless thoroughly genuine, a true ｅxpression of
inwardness; in fact the latter is true in a wider sense than
in China. It is not necessary to have invented the form of
ｅxpression which is most appropriate to one; one does not
need to alter what is inherited, so that it corresponds with one's
own personality. Almost the whole East turns to quotations
when it wishes to give ｅxpression to a direct personal experi-
ence, and this does not mean in their case, as among us, either
impotence or lack of taste: it means that the soul recog-
nises herself again and again in certain eternal manifestations,
just as Nature continually renews herself in identical forms,
with undiminished originality. The world of forms of Bud-
dhist art corresponds to the Japanese Buddhist religiosity as
completely as it probably only corresponded in exceptional
souls in China, which was already thoroughly Conf ucianised
no matter whether this correspondence existed previously, or
whether it was, conversely, created a posteriori through the
166 JAPAN PART vi
influence of Buddhism upon the Japanese soul it represents
a true image of spiritual life in Japan. It is a Japanese and not
a Chinese mood of the soul which speaks from the sweet
Kwannon pictures, the discreet and yet rich chromatics of the
Mandaras is the reflection of Japanese, not of Chinese, in-
wardness. one might say that if all forms and colours down
to the very last had been invented on the Continent and if there
had been no Japanese who adopted them, then the last possible
connection between art and life would have remained unre-
lated. In Japan, Buddhist art had become the normal expres-
sion of religious feeling; for one Fra Angelico in Tuscany,
there were hundreds here. Many saints and fathers of the
Church were simultaneously painters and sculptors; the ma-
jority of the statues and pictures which are shown in the old
temples have been created by priests and monks.
It will be objected here: but the Japanese are not spiritual;
how should the most spiritual of all the arts be appropriate to
them? Hereupon one must reply at first cautiously that, if
the modern Japanese are rarely spiritual, this does not prove
that this was always the case. The concept of a people, of a
race, corresponds to a definite idea always only within definite
limits of time. The Jews of to-day would not create a Bible,
the American business men of the twentieth century do not let
us guess that their ancestors escaped across the ocean from
religious motives in order to found a kingdom of saints upon
earth. Pure blood may be considered as a constant factor in
such an equation, but the variable factors also have their say,
and, not infrequently, they decide. The variable quality of
Christianisation has, in the course of centuries, in spite of all
the existing constant factors, unified the most diverse races of
the West psychically to such a degree that a non-European
can hardly distinguish one from the other. Buddhism has
achieved something similar. The latter has, in accordance
with its softer nature, not influenced external life nearly so
powerfully. on the other hand, its greater spirituality has
led to results which Christianity has never achieved to the same
degree: it has spiritualised peoples who by nature were not
CHAP. 48 NARA 167
spiritual, or it has at any rate done so in some of its ｅxpressions.
The anti-metaphysical Chinese have risen as Buddhistic artists
to heights o metaphysical knowledge which no other people
has attained to; and the Japanese, whose mental constant
factor as a race has probably always been matter-of-f actness,
have been illuminated through the light of Mahayana for
centuries to such an extent that precisely their matter-of-fact-
ness has led to spiritual achievements. After all, religious
experience is something as purely empirical as the experience
of a child of the world; only it takes place in a different sphere,
the entrance to which is, however, open to every one. one ray
of light from the jewel on the brow of Buddha pointed out
this entrance to the Japanese. As long as they were illuminated
by it, they were able to behold and to achieve divinity.
To-day, in face of the glories of Nara, I have at last seen the
problem clearly which has occupied me since Koya: how is it
possible that the Japanese, who 'know not what they do,' may
be regarded in many ways as perfecting the ideal of the Indian
sages: it is directly connected with the fact that the omniscient
Indians have hardly ever expressed themselves in a manner
which did them justice, and something similar is true of the
Germans; that so far, the most permanent manifestations of
the European spirit do not emanate from the more profound
Teutons but from the Latin peoples; and this means that the
supreme ｅxpression of spirituality is never found by spiritually
but by materialistically minded people.
(I am here using the concept 'materialistic,' of course, in a
far wider sense than is customary; as a general description for
every mental tendency which lies in the direction of appearance
as such.)
The control of matter requires organs which are a perfect
match for it, in particular fully developed senses; the mind as
such is not sufficient. As one and the same man is never
equipped equally perfectly with mind and with senses there
is, rather, an antinomic relation between these two traits the
materialistic individual is most successful in the world of
appearances. Now the ｅxpression even of spiritual significance
168 JAPAN PART vi
belongs in all circumstances to the sphere of phenomena^ the
best ｅxpression is found, not by the man most transfused with
spirit, but by him who knows best how to materialise spirit.
And such a man is a materialist. He never recognises the
spiritual quality as such by himself, but if it is pointed out to
him he grasps it then: and for this reason, the best ｅxpressions
of spiritual truths have emanated from poets, not from saints
and philosophers. The spirit, however, is present in each
individual j every one knows the spirit, whether he is aware of
it or not. This explains why materialistic people, to whom no
spiritual truth would ever have been revealed, have understood
and appreciated its ｅxpressions, as soon as they became familiar
with them. The Higher Buddhism met with immediate com-
prehension in China and Japan and received there, not long
afterwards, its sublimest forms of ｅxpression, because the
people of the Far East have an incomparable capacity for
ｅxpression at their disposal, and because those fundamental
ideas which they would never have conceived themselves ex-
isted already. The materialistic temperament of the Chinese
and the Japanese, therefore, does not provide a riddle in re-
lation to their religious art, but, on the contrary, makes it in-
telligible. As far as Japan in particular is concerned, it bears
to China the typical relation of the disciple who completes the
work of his master. The pioneer tediously breaks his way
through material; he rarely lives long enough to express him-
self completely, and he rarely cares about final ｅxpression. A
disciple beginning where his master had to stop carries out
what he has outlined and if he has a subtle mind, with an
understanding for the peculiar function of form, possessing
in addition taste and feeling for shades and high lights, then
it falls to his lot to carry the conception of his master, which,
as such, is far beyond his powers, to its supreme perfection.
That is what the best of the religious artists of Japan have
achieved in the domain of the Buddhist world of formsj this
world owes to them its charm, its sweetness, its Franciscan
fervour. The Japanese have never been deeply religious like
the Indians j but they were fervently religious, precisely in the
Franciscan sense. The Holy Ghost never revealed Himself as
CHAP. 48 NARA 169
such to them, but He has transfigured their sensibility. And
by means of this transfigured sensibility He has created works
of art which resemble Him as nothing else does upon earth.
THE impression of the catholicity of the spirit of the first
century after Christ impresses itself upon me once more in face
of the art treasures of Nara. What a magnificent synthesis
which included Indian wisdom, Greek forms, Alexandrian
doctrines and Christian dogma! In the Temple of Horiuji
there reigns a Korean Buddha. His specifically Far Eastern
appearance yet condenses within itself all significance which
has ever been perceived between the Indus and the Nile. - . .
And at the same time, there is no question of eclecticism. That
marvellous impulse to love, which in the West transmuted
the Stoic into a Christian, the proud into the humble, which
in the heart of Judaism, which only knew of justice, created
the sublimest religion of divine grace, which transformed the
self-sufficient ascetic of early Buddhism into the Bodhisattva
who made the vow not to enter into Nirvana as long as one
human soul languished unsaved in earthly fetters this impulse
has really fused into one what appeared to be capable of
union in theory only. But if I now compare in my mind both
the final products of this process Christianity in the West
and Japanese Buddhism in the Far East then I must bow
once more before the greater profundity of recognition, as well
as the higher artistic capacity of ｅxpression of the Orient.
How much more true is the doctrine of Mahayana than the
equivalent doctrine of Christianity! Whereas in our case
narrow-minded Africans and unphilosophical Romans, or at
best verbose Greeks, developed our doctrines, this was done
in the East by wise Indians; and whereas among us literal
acceptance and allegorical interpretation of Christian mythol-
ogy bowdlerised its form into a kind of hieroglyphic descrip-
tion which was incapable of expressing what was intended
directly, the artistic delicacy of the East created, from almost
identical manifestations, a language which revealed the eternal
quality of appearance with unrivalled directness. Amida is
170 JAPAN PART vi
nothing else but our Saviour, Kwannon does not differ in idea
from the Virgin Mary, who incarnates the feminine aspect of
divine love 5 Sukhavati is identical with our heaven. But
whereas these myths of Christianity have remained scientific
facts up to the present day, or, even worse, have been under-
stood as allegories, the East has never regarded them as any-
thing but symbolical. In India this process was philosophically
conscious, in China half-conscious, half-instinctive, in Japan
it took its course probably quite unconsciously, with the child-
like naivete of the genuine artist. Again and again I come
back to the word of the crucified Saviour: *They know not
what they do.' The Japanese are undoubtedly quite innocent
of the marvel of their religious art; all the more innocent as
they really imitated the art of others in the main. But their
'copies' are more spiritual than our originals.
As far as spirituality is concerned, Indian wisdom is and
remains the maximum, and its most perfect means of expres-
sion is the artistic feeling of the Chinese and the Japanese.
Of how little avail is the gift of intellect here! I think back
to my experiences in Adyar, and the teachings of modern theos-
ophy. They are almost identical with those of Mahayana, and
the theosophists are probably a better match than the Japanese
for their intellectual content. None the less, Japanese Bud-
dhism towers high above modern theosophy. Theosophy does
not treat the Indian doctrine more wisely than our Middle Ages
treated the Greco-Christian teaching: it too accepts literally, or
interprets allegoricallyj its synthesis is also an external aggre-
gate. The racial temperament appears, after all, to be insur-
mountable: Anglo-Saxons remain Anglo-Saxons, a practical
but unspiritual race, even where they convert themselves to
Mahayana. Let us hope that the Japanese will remain Far
Easterners in spite of their tendency to Westernisation,
YES, racial disposition is final wherever the power of faith
and imagination are not extraordinarily great. In the case
of the Japanese both are exceptionally small, and for this
reason blood inheritance has an unusually large significance
CHAP. 48 NARA 171
for them. It is not true, however often it be asserted, that
they, as imitators, are highly changeable; transformation pre-
supposes imagination. They have remained the same through
all their changes far more than any other people. No matter
to what influence they surrendered themselves Korean, Chi-
nese or European it has not altered them in any essential.
The history of Japanese Buddhism illustrates this fact with
extraordinary clearness.
The monks of Nara were famous as robber knights. The
gentle wisdom of India did not have the slightest enervating
effect upon these warlike troopers rather it accommodated
itself to their outlook. Buddhism melted almost immedi-
ately into the native cult of ancestors and gods, acquired a
thorough-going god of war soon afterwards, and it did not take
long before the Buddhist monasteries caused the rulers more
trouble than the most restive vassals, Indian wisdom, as such,
had a direct effect only on that portion and those sides of the
Japanese to which it corresponded to begin with: the women
and their feeling for art. The Japanese woman is a born
Buddhist in her gentle sufferance, her selfless warmth of heart 5
and as an artist the Japanese is closely related to the Indian.
I perceive it ever more clearly: the Buddhist Church in refer-
ence to the popular life of the Japanese means, in so far as
it is really Buddhist, only an artistic phrase, nothing more.
But for this very reason it has meant every now and again
something so very personal to the individual, especially to
women. The Catholic Church was, above all, a state; it has
educated more nations than individuals, it meant to be a refuge
rather for humanity than for men. For this reason, the
Catholic saints are wanting in the intimate traits which make
Buddhist saints appear so lovable. There is only one among
them who seems comparable with them: St. Francis of Assisi.
The wistaria is in blossom at the moment. These delicious
clinging plants wind themselves to the tops of the defiant fir-
trees in the parks. In this way the rough and the sweet ele-
ments of Japan have always been marvellously complementary.
Love for women, battle for men; Buddhism for her, Shinto
for him. But Bushido for both, the spirit of proud, aspiring
1 72 JAPAN PART VI
purity: of the possible formulas which reconcile contradictions
into unity, this does not seem to me to be the worst.
I HAVE several times touched upon the Franciscan character
of that which is profoundest and best in Japanese-Buddhist
religiosity; I must tarry a little longer on this point of conver-
gence of the East and the West. There is no doubt that the
qualities of sweetness, loveliness and delicacy are fundamen-
tally the same, both here and there; it has certainly attained
the higher degree of development in the Far East. But Fran-
ciscanism is not exhausted in sweetness. I am reminded of a
remark of Alfred Weber: The corresponding ｅxpression of the
spirit which was once embodied in the Franciscan Order is to-
day the Salvation Army. This is probably true. The whole
of the spirit of St. Francis does not express itself in sweetness
and fervour* In the East the counterpart is missing for
the other quality, the quality of passionate action.
Missionaries, of course, will say that this difference is due to
the superiority of Christian teaching, and this much is certain:
very similar fundamental ideas have evinced incomparably
greater power in their Christian manifestations. But whence
does this greater power come from ultimately? What is the
reason that the Franciscan spirit has produced only sweetness
in Japan, and in Europe sweetness as well as strength? It is
hardly due to the teaching of Christ in itself, but to the tem-
perament of those of whom it took possession} Mahayana
doctrine would probably have had similar effects among us. I
am trying to visualise the soul of St. Francis: love has never
burned with such intensity in the heart of any Japanese; no
saint of the whole East, if I exclude Islam, has ever felt such
passion. What differentiates the Christian Bhakta from the
Asiatic ultimately, is the fact that it has at its disposal a much
larger quantity of energy. Thus, the advantages of Chris-
tianity over Buddhism, in so far as they are in question, depend
to a large extent on physiological circumstances; they depend
on the more dense, more graceful material by means of which
its spirit was able to express itself. I have never met a man
CHAP. 48 NARA 173
among the Asiatics whose psychic body was so full and so rich
as is the case with the superior average individual among us;
all of them, so far as I can judge, are psychically meagre com-
pared with us.
From this point of view, it seems to me that very interesting
vistas of our supposed materialism and the supposed spiritu-
ality of the East open before us. The facts are, of course,
what they are, but their import is not quite the one which is
usually ascribed to them. Spirituality appears generally more
spiritual in the East than in the West, but it does not follow
necessarily that the former is really nearer to the spirit: it need
only follow that its body is more meagre. This interpretation
is undoubtedly correct in many cases, and it applies presumably
throughout in the case of Japan. A great deal of what seems
admirable in India may find its true cause here: it is not diffi-
cult to renounce, if one's passions are feeble. This much is
certain: the richer the body, the better are the means of ex-
pression of the spirit. This is proved by Beethoven, by Bach;
nothing Eastern rivals them. China proves this most im-
pressively of all. Wherever it seems possible to compare Chi-
nese with Japanese manifestations on the one hand, and with
Indian on the other, that is to say wherever either an identical
spirit lies at the bottom of cultural appearance, or where
identical means of ｅxpression are employed, one is impressed
by the greater substantiality of the Chinese manifestations. It
seems not only more robust, more materially significant, not
only more clearly defined, more powerfully executed, it seems
to be animated from a greater depth. In order to bring pro-
fundity to the surface, physical force is required; and the more
surface is led back to its living basis, or is illuminated by it,
the more clearly it appears. The Chinese are the most sub-
stantial of the Asiatics; they are the only people whom I know
whose psychic bodies can stand the comparison with our own.
For this reason, Oriental spirituality has found its strongest
earthly ｅxpression in China.
174 JAPAN PART vi
49
KYOTO
I AM still deeply affected by the tragedy which has been
played on the boards before me. It was a famous historical
drama, conducted and performed in a masterly manner and
moving for this reason alone j but what overpowered me was
the pathos of the mood, spread over the whole performance by
the alternation at rhythmic intervals of the chanting of old
folk tunes as the accompaniment to dumb mime, with the real
action. I experience nothing short of a perfect evocation of
the Middle Ages.
The Middle Ages are not very far in the past in Japan.
Their peculiar condition of consciousness and their forms of ex-
pression are familiar to the aged from personal experience, so
that it is easier in Japan to evoke their spirit than in Europe.
Moreover, their character was far more crass in general, their
manifestations were correspondingly stronger. I do not believe
that the virtues of the Samurai spring from such profound roots
as those of the Prankish Knight; the loyalty of the vassal, feel-
ing for honour and contempt of death, probably meant more to
him. But, thanks to the peculiar Japanese temperament,
according to which presentation and being signify almost the
same thing, for whom stylised exaggeration is natural, they
appear more picturesque in his case, for which reason they
excel our own in scenic and artistic value in general. The gist
of the drama which I witnessed is roughly as follows: the
feudal lord has entrusted a vassal clan with a valuable scroll of
writing. The member of this clan who looks after it, shows
more inclination to a lady of the court than it pleases his proud
wife to behold. She determines to ruin her rival. For this
purpose she removes the scroll, so that the representative of
the feudal lord, who soon after appears to demand it back,
finds the chest empty. Some one must have stolen the treasure.
The mistress of the castle accuses the hated lady of this deed,
and thereupon chastises her the greatest disgrace which can
overtake a lady of birth with her slipper in front of the
CHAP.49 KYOTO !7S
assembled court. As a result of this humiliation, the falsely
accused woman commits suicide. Her faithful servant, how-
ever, avenges her death by beating the moral murderess with
the same sandal, and then slays her in a knightly duel. The
fable is simple enough and of small significance according to
our ideas j for us, the tragic motives, moreover, do not seem to
lie in the depths of human nature, but appear to be based in
superficial conventions. But for these people, convention was
nature. And any one who has personally experienced, under
the influence of a perfect theatrical representation, the atmos-
phere of the Japanese Middle Ages, will perceive, in what is
apparently artificial, the purely human element in a shape as
moving and naked as in a Greek tragedy of fate. Even c f ate'
was, after all, a convention we no longer believe in its power;
even the passions which have since been used as motives are
not necessarily compelling forces for man can stand above
them; it depends solely on where he actually does stand. If he
identifies himself really and perfectly with a foolish prejudice,
then this acquires the profundity of nature. Now the intensity
of experience was so great in the case of medieval man that
his prejudices imply more pathos than metaphysical tragedies
do among modern people.
A feeling which 'resembles sorrow 5 steals over me. Jt is
explicable enough: no matter how much I may be an in-
tellectual, I feel nevertheless the fundamental instincts of
the knight very vitally in me, and they no longer fit into this
age. The days of the nobleman are numbered. What folly to
see in this fact a sign of unqualified progress! The typical
traits of the nobleman do, of course, not imply absolute values,
but absolute values are innate in no manifestation; all are only
definite forms of life, as such not essentially necessary, con-
ditioned, limited, subject to change, and easily recognisable,
especially in men, as accidental, because the barriers are
psychical which separate one type from another here: one-
sidednesses, peculiarities, prejudices. The knightly concept of
honour is, no doubt, theoretically a prejudice, but the same
applies to the professional honour of the merchant, and particu-
larly to that which the freethinker proudly calls his lack of
176 JAPAN PART vi
bias. The question is, which prejudices are the better ones? In
principle it may perhaps be foolish to ask: to be a stag is prej-
udice from the point of view of the horse, and vice versa. ^ All
manifestations are an ｅxpression of inward necessity within
the limits of external possibility, they are complementary to
each other x and change more or less correlatiyely. But there
are nevertheless better and worse prejudices in the sense that
not every constellation permits the realisation of equal values,
and some are lost altogether if a particular form of life dies
out. In this sense the nobleman towers high above the types
which irresistibly take his place to-day j no one is his equal in
moral courage, idealism, self-denial, loyalty, nobility of out-
look and disregard of material advantages. Thus, humanity
suffers an irremediable loss through the extinction of the
knightly spirit.
It is true that a type is beginning to crystallise which, similar
in spirit to that of the knight, is superior to it in so far as it is
defined by less particularised prejudices and gives greater
play to individual temperament: it is the type of the intellect-
ualised and universalised English gentleman. But it is much
more difficult to compass this type than the other, and for this
reason it remains questionable if it will ever prevail. It re-
quires an enormous innate culture, which even the bearers of
the greatest names do not possess in our days of extravagant
intermarriage, and it presupposes a capacity of conscious self-
limitation which is directly opposed to the ideal of the eman-
cipated average, in order to be a nobleman in this highest
sense. At present very few are ripe for freedom, by far the
majority are still men of the herd, and incapable of perfecting
themselves beyond the limits of the community. Thus, where
the old connections have been destroyed, they enter into new
ones, which are justified much more superficially than those
which have matured in the process of history. To-day the
rich join hands: it was better when the noble-minded did so.
I am becoming bitter. How should I not be, since I have
1 See as to the ultimate reason for the correlation of all living beings my
lecture Weltanschauung und Lebensgestaltung' in the Leuchter, 1924 (Otto
Reichl Verlag).
CHAP. 49 KYOTO 177
to look on while the trend of events irresistibly drags down
the type which ought to be the most noble? There are ap-
pallingly few genuine aristocrats already among the bearers
of the greatest historical names. It is in the nature of things
that an organ which cannot act in accordance with its nature
becomes degenerate. This takes place in two ways, the empha-
sis may be laid on the word 'accordance' or on the word c act':
the rigid reactionaries degenerate because they do not
exert themselves at all; the progressives do the same because
they, where they can no longer live in accordance with their
peculiarity, try their fortunes in different ways for which they
lack direction because their inherited instincts faiL To-day
most of the landed nobility have to live as merchants. As they
are not merchants by nature, and can only be guided by con-
siderations of utility, not by intuitive feeling in this profession,
they lie, in the metaphysical sense, when they do business,
which is expressed in appearance by the fact that they are often
less gentlemanly in their dealings as men of business than
professional tradesmen. All that lies in their blood is knightly
honour, the specific morality of the tradesman is something
strange to them j and they therefore belong, in their new career,
only too often to a lower class than the representatives of old
merchant families. The types of humanity are not interchange-
able, and can only be transformed to a small degree. In this
way, Japan offers the most instructive of all examples. In this
country, modernity immediately followed upon the Middle
Ages, the era of the economic outlook immediately succeeded
the era of the Crusaders. What was the result? Among
knights, the buyer and seller is always held in contempt, and
contempt kills noblemindedness from the outset. Therefore,
the Japanese merchants, compared with the Chinese, were typi-
cally low-minded. The noblemen have proved their value as
knights brilliantly enough in war. That the typically knightly
attitude is still vital to-day, I myself have had considerable
opportunity to observe; I have often been struck by the simi-
larity between the Japanese and the Baltic noblemen: in both
cases there is a Don Quixote-like contempt of money, in both
cases there is a magnanimity and a largesse which is hardly
I7 8 JAPAN PART vi
met with any more elsewhere. But to-day most of these
Samurais are not in the position materially to continue their
existence in the old wayj to-day they must, in order not to
starve, participate in the economic competition, and here they
are not guided by any certain instincts. Thus they rely ex-
clusively on their sense for business, and this is only far-sighted
in so far as it works from a solid basis of character} the result is
obvious to everybody: I have so far not met with one single
white business man in the East who did not regard every
Japanese as a low, vulgar and thoroughly unreliable fellow.
While the medieval tragedy was being played upon the boards,
the faces of all, even those of the Japanese who wore European
dress, appeared to be transfigured} certain strings of their
being were vibrating which modern life no longer touches.
And these strings are the prof ounder, the fuller and purer
ones in Japan as everywhere else on earth.
THE character of Kyoto differs from that of all the cities
which I have visited so far in Japan: its character is that of a
metropolis which summarises all the forms of life in the wide
realm into one magnificent unity. I go to visit the sights: the
monuments of court culture, of pompous vassal power, of the
magnificently lavish sway of the prelates, and the memorials of
that austere and manly warrior spirit, which has brought
about the final rise of Japan; and I am amazed at the manifold-
ness of the manifestations in which life expressed itself here
once upon a time. What similarity existed between the exquis-
itely cultured courtiers, with their feminine sensibility, their
delicate artistic feelings, and the rough, masculine Samurais?
Between the Amazon-like empresses of the old times, the
great lady artists of the Middle Ages, to whom Japan owes
the best of its literature, and the Spartan-minded spouses of
the knights? Every one of these types can be regarded as a
special species of humanity, and has always been judged as
such. And if I compare the well-articulated organism of an-
cient Japan with the uniformity of to-day, and think at the
same time of the near future, when this process of levelling
CHAP. 49 KYOTO 179
will have become perfected, then once more a feeling of bitter-
ness takes hold of me. The misconception that the removal
of the social barriers could favour the differentiation of men
is really too foolish! Of course it facilitates individual differ-
entiation, but what does this signify in comparison with typical
differentiation which it throttles from the beginning? Under
the most highly individualised people it happens only excep-
tionally that an individuality, as such, is valuable} conversely,
the types which crystallise in the most impersonal nations are,
without exception, the bearers of human values, which are lost
when the boundaries between the types become blurred. Man
happens to be a differentiating being, there is no blinking the
fact} he becomes conscious of his peculiarity only in reference
to what differs from him; for this reason, high culture flour-
ishes only in aristocratic communities. The differences between
individuals who substitute differences in type in democracies
are too small, and, above all, too superficial, to be stimulating
to the same degree. The Japanese illustrates these truths as
no other people does. They are, as all connoisseurs affirm
unanimously, markedly impersonal, they have remarkably little
feeling for individuality. They lose in proportion as they
depart from the possibility of typical manifestation. The
courtier of long ago was refined as opposed to the crude
Samurai, and the latter was manly and strong as opposed to
the subtle Daimyo} the woman of birth was severe and self-
controlled in the consciousness of her superiority towards the
children of nature who acted as her servants. To-day the
Japanese regard themselves more and more as equals, they
strive, above all, to be 'modern people.' And this makes them
more banal every day. . . .
But in Kyoto the psychic atmosphere of the old days still
prevails, and the spirit of the residency still holds sway. I feel
as I sometimes did in Versailles, when I strolled in the light of
the October sun, through its semi-wild avenues. I feel as
though I were a courtier; etiquette regulates all my impulses;
semblance is highest reality to me, and formulas appear es-
sential. And this constitution does not limit me: in fact here
this very constitution brings about the greatest possible inner
i8o JAPAN PART vi
freedom. In the Versailles of Louis XIV only the perfect
courtier could be entirely genuine. In Kyoto it was similar.
In its artificial society, supposedly controlled by puppet em-
perors, ruled in fact by their favourites, contaminated by
intrigue, only the servile courtier was quite in his element.
But he appeared to be remarkably substantial. ^ Thanks to the
peculiar Japanese temperament, which unites in so strange a
manner sensitivity, lack of imagination and matter-of-f actness,
the courtiers could be absolutely genuine. They were as
genuine as the penguins, who spend their days in the mutual
display of courtesy on the ice-fields around the southern pole.
IN the highest circles of Old Japan, interior decorations and
the costumes of women were subject to successive changes in
relation with the rotation of the seasons. No interior was
ever attuned to summer while it snowed and stormed outside,
no grande-dame of Japan would ever have worn a garment
suggestive of chrysanthemums at the time that the wistaria
blossomed. The idea is the same as the Chinese 'harmony,'
only it is expressed here, not profoundly, but superficially,
just as the painter seizes and reproduces the significance of
things in their 'coloured reflection' (Goethe). The Japanese
did not bother much about heaven j he has, instead, thanks to
his marvellous feeling for nature, made his earth into a para-
dise. I can well imagine that a dwarfed tree does not feel
itself ill-treated as a tree trimmed in the French manner cer-
tainly does: he probably feels grateful to his gardener, as he
changes his nature without violence, in such a way that it seems
perfectly suited to his surroundings. At any rate, every man
of taste to whom the same thing happened would be grateful.
The 'meaning' of this feeling for nature, as Laotse would
put it, is the basic tone of all Asiatic philosophy of the world
and of life. The Indians have expressed it in their philosophy,
religion and music, the Chinese in the whole of their culture,
the Japanese, above all, in the shaping of what is visible; in
this respect they are thoroughly Asiatic. The whole East
regards man as a component part of nature, and behaves accord-
CHAP. 49 KYOTO 181
ingly, whereas it is characteristic of us that we deny our mem-
bership. There is no doubt that the Eastern point of view is
the more profound. An all-embracing religion and philosophy
which denies nothing can only originate from the Asiatic atti-
tude to the world, it alone makes a perfect social organisation
possible in principle} only the man endowed with the Asiatic's
feeling for the world will possess taste in the highest sense.
For what else is taste but clear consciousness of proportion?
The man whose eyes have been trained in Japan will only rarely
want to open them in Europe. How barbaric is our habit of
overloading! How seldom does an object stand in the place
which correlation appoints to it! How obtrusive our pictures
are! And how rarely is a European aware that a room exists
for the man, and not vice versa, that he, and not the curtain or
the picture, is to be given his best possible setting! Even
Japanese architecture achieves in the same way something more
valuable than our modern method of building, no matter how
insignificant their creations may be in other respects. A Japanese
temple is designed in its setting, it cannot in fact be dissociated
from it. And as this is done with mastery, and as every build-
ing gives the effect of unity with its background, the general
view is aesthetically more satisfying than our buildings, which
are mostly better in themselves. It is characteristic that the
Japanese loses his taste as soon as he assumes European man-
ners and European dress: they are alien to his inner nature, he
cannot understand them in their own connection. And it is
very significant, in the same way, that the temples are gener-
ally very overloaded: they too do not exist for men, but for su-
perlative beings, of whom he does not make clear mental
images for himself. Accordingly men visit them only on fes-
tive occasions, where the elated atmosphere anyhow demands a
more gorgeous frame. To-day I attended the annual feast of
the Nishi-Hongwanji temple. There the most extraordinary
pomp was displayed. But that is just how, according to the
Japanese view, religious festivals ought to be essentially
extraordinary performances and for such purposes the gor-
geously decorated, gold-shimmering and gaily lacquered tem-
ples provide a framework of appropriate style a
182 JAPAN PART vi
Japanese gardens, however, are absolutely beautiful, they are
the perfectly beautiful gardens, an ｅxpression of no less classical
a spirit than Greek images of gods. Why do the Japanese
dwarf their trees? Not from a preference for what is small in
itself, but so that the tiniest piece of land shall reveal infinite
perspective like a landscape by Millet. Wherever, as in the
imperial park of Kyoto, there is space in plenty, the trees in
the background have almost been allowed to touch heaven,
and their impulses of growth have only been limited in propor-
tion to their distance from the background, so that the same
picture of infinite distance is achieved on a large scale which
the pauper realises on a small one. And how infinitely more
can be accomplished by intelligent penetration into the pecu-
liarities of nature than by their violation! By means of some
stones, a few plants and a little trickle of water, the artist con-
jures beauties into an indifferent space, such as cannot be found
in many famous sites. . . . While I rest in these magical gar-
dens during the hot hours of the day, I am reading in the
Jengi Mongagatari, that mediaeval novel which gives such a
perfect picture of the life of the princes of Japan: this quality
of refinement no court of the West has known; nor, probably,
any court of China. What characterises this culture is a rela-
tion which was only possible in Japan: between the animal-
like intuition for sensuous phenomena and their extreme artis-
tic elaboration. When Prince Jengi enjoyed the mood of a
moonlit scene, he did not dream like a Persian poet: he was
attentive like a beast of prey lying on the watch, but he felt
what he observed simultaneously as an exquisitely sensitive
aesthete.
The charm of this aesthetically most attractive of all coun-
tries enmeshes me more and more. Here, the objects of the
outer world take possession of me, as otherwise ideas in the
realm of thought, and they modulate the mood of my soul until
it continues to compose in their key of its own accord.
Is it because in Japan I live altogether through the senses
that I feel younger every day? That is probably the reason.
We happen to be born into the world for this world, for the
exploitation, not for the renunciation of earthly ability, and if
CHAP. 49 KYOTO 183
we want to live at too early a stage beyond the realm of the
senses we have to do penance. once life has passed its earthly
zenith, it fulfils itself more and more in an existence of a
purely mental kind. So long as the curve on earth is still in
the ascendant, the senses imperiously demand their right. The
processes of nature do not allow themselves to be cut short.
But this is not the only, nor the chief cause which raises the
tone of my life so considerably in Japan: it is the unique satis-
faction which a life in and with the senses offers one in the land
of the Rising Sun. Here, as nowhere else on earth, externals
are attuned to internals, nature to man, so that the possible
impressions possess from the beginning a harmonious relation
to the possible sensations j and here, as nowhere else, this har-
monious relation is realised in the best objective rhythm. The
number of such rhythms is not unlimited: just as combinations
of the elements lead to enduring chemical compounds only in
definitely limited numbers, just as the heavenly bodies can
only be joined into a system subject to certain relations of
weights and of distance from each other, so the maximum of
beauty, satisfaction and happiness is also dependent on certain
rhythmic relations. In objective art, especially in music, this
state of things can easily be shown: the more classical a com-
position, the more does it appear controlled by those very
rhythms which, outside in the expanse of the sky, control the
harmony of the spheres. In the case of subjective sensations,
however, where objective proof cannot be brought, every one
whose organisation is sufficiently delicate will have the same
personal experience. I know no one who has really penetrated
into the rhythmic gymnastics of Jacques-Dalcroze and has
not experienced through and in it an incredible exaltation
of life: these gymnastics realise the objective optimum in the
rhythm of the play of human gestures. I know no artistically
minded person to whom the beauty of a masterpiece does not
appear as an objective absolute. And, last but not least, the
happiness which two people can give to each other depends,
in all cases, upon the degree of their physiological and psychic
sympathy, that is to say, it depends on the relation in which
the strings of their nature harmonise. Exactly in the same
JAPAN PART VI
sense, the relation in which objective culture in Japan stands
to human subjectivity is a best possible ^ relationship. Of
course, one must have become a Japanese in order to experi-
ence this optimum to the full} but in Japan one does become a
Japanese 5 no assimilative mind escapes this transformation.
And if he then notices that the foreign Far Eastern manifes-
tation is beginning to appear, even to him, as an objective
optimum, then he will also realise how little this style means
as such. It is the relations within the conventions which make
him happy j the same relations could also be represented in
the Greek language of form. And the fact that in Japan he
enjoys what is Japanese most, only proves how very appropriate
this special style is to the amblente.
My thoughts wander back to China. No, the perfection
which I have in my mind's eye to-day is specifically Japanese,
not Chinese, and even if each individually beautiful mani-
festation was invented in the Middle Kingdom} the routine of
this life is based upon consideration; but it is expressed in
obedience to objective forms of politeness, irrespectively of
what may be going on in the consciousness of others. I was
told the story of a Chinese lady who came to call upon a Euro-
pean lady, whom she estranged because, instead of bowing to
her, she dropped her curtsy in the opposite direction, turning
her back to her hostess in the process: her hostess should, ac-
cording to etiquette, have been standing on the opposite (on the
southern) side of the roomj the fact that she did not actually
stand there was a matter of indifference to the Chinese lady.
In Japan it is just the living consideration which is developed
to the extreme; nowhere else on earth does sensibility seem to
be so delicately shaded. Thus, Chinese invention bears its
finest fruit only here. In Japan the idea of harmony is em-
bodied in the mobility of living appearance; nothing happens,
except in harmonious proportion, nothing occupies any but
the best rhythmical position. Thus Qne feels well and happy
wherever one turns. After all, most things all the world over
depend upon trifles. only one shade differentiates tactlessness
from tact, one shade divides politeness from impertinence.
The Japanese has the most developed sense for trifles. Thus,
CHAP.49 KYOTO 185 "
after what was great had been given him, he was able to
achieve results which remained unattainable to a greater being.
The reverse of all this but I do not want to spoil my mood
of happiness. Why should a man or a people possess all ad-
vantages? The nations of this earth complement each other.
Some play bass, the others treble j a few people strike the basic
tones, many others sing the melody. Humanity is an orchestra
of many voices 5 the philosopher listens to the symphony. And
if he must travel in space in order to gain the impression of
unity, this implies no more serious objection against the order
of the world than does the fact that the unity of any single
melody is only realised in the passage of time.
+
I DO not know myself any more: not merely because I spend
hours pottering about among antiquaries and curio dealers
I am actually busy buying and thinking about interior deco-
rations. This is quite an unusual state of affairs. Never, as far
as I know, have I attached any weight to property, ^especially
to the possession of things which please my eye. It is more in
accordance with my personal requirements if that which is
beautiful is where I can, but where I need not, see it, in the
houses of friends or in public collections} if it is constantly
before me, it disturbs me, and all the more so the greater its
own merit is. Then I have to consider it, to adjust the style of
my life to a work of art} above all, my imagination is not at
liberty in such a presence. How am I to^ unearth thoughts
without hindrance from unconscious depths, if the space before
me is not empty, if my senses are caught up again and again
in something perfect outside myself? It is true that things
which are merely pleasing are not so restrictive in their effect 5
but then, I do not need them. I would, of course, mind it if
the ladies I know did not make their surroundings ^as beauti-
ful as possible, for when I am with them my consciousness is
turned to the outer world, and suffers from any of its insuffi-
ciencies} from my 1 own surroundings I merely demand that
they shall not enter upon my consciousness at all: that should
be their perfection. But here, under the influence of Japan,
I86 JAPAN PART VI
I am turning into an epicurean, into an amateur of art. Here,
everything visible is designed for man; the whole of nature
only seems like the frame of human life, every object w there
for use, every work of art presupposes an observer. Thus it
happens that even a man otherwise independent of the outer
world feels oppressed and uncomfortable, if he is capable ot
impressions at all, so that any discord in Kyoto makes me think
involuntarily how I could be aesthetically more in harmony
with my surroundings, and I live, in fact, in the belief that I
would continue to have such wants at home. I have to laugh
at myself. With a little less self-criticism I might almost per-
suade myself that I am a connoisseur of art. This morning,
at the opening of an auction, I watched Japanese experts
examining porcelain. I am probably blind to what they notice,
but it seemed to me at the moment, quite seriously^ as if I
too might join in the conversation about porcelain, and it really
seems as if I had not judged wrongly on a number of occasions.
This I owe entirely to the suggestion of my surroundings; by
nature I lack every feeling for the arts and crafts. However,
I am well content to have stood in the shoes of a man of taste,
for a few moments at any rate, because in the process a new
side of the Japanese temperament has become clear to me.
Goethe remarks somewhere that the theatre had the double-
sided peculiarity of making the audience imagine that they too
were able to produce dramatic work. What is the cause of this?
Apparently it is due to the fact that men do not give such close
attention to most events as they do to the performance of a
play; and that which has really been seen lies, regarded from
the angle of the mind, on the same plane as that which has been
invented. Thus, the spectator thinks involuntarily that he has
created the drama of another man, or at any rate, as this is
demonstrably not the case, he imagines that he is capable of a
similar achievement. In just the same way, even a barbarian
in artistic surroundings, at some time or another, arrives at the
conclusion that he 'really' is a connoisseur of art, for in these
circumstances he notices what otherwise he overlooks. This
train of thought has, however, not yet reached its end: the edu-
cation of attention for the purposes of observing certain things
CHAP. 49 KYOTO 187
develops the capacity to see them} in fact, it leads further:
continued attention calls forth creative gifts. This then seems
to me to be the key to the understanding of the artistic creative-
ness of Japan. The Japanese are by nature not productive in
the same way as the Chinese used to be in their earlier daysj
but they have eventually become creative because in idea imag-
ination and technique, receptivity and production belong to
one single psychic whole. A powerful imagination creates
means of ｅxpression for itself 5 where technique is perfect, there
spirit and significance become incarnate of their own accord} the
perfect observer is ultimately surprised by original ideas. The
Japanese possess two qualities by nature: they are incompa-
rably acute observers, and virtuosos in all technical skill. By
virtue of these qualities they have not only been able to make
their own the achievements of all the peoples whom they
wished to emulate they have succeeded, without really having
ideas, in presenting ideas, even ideas which none before them
has produced.
TO what an astonishing extent I have already become a Japa-
nese! Their senses have become my own} I apply the stand-
ards of their aesthetic as a matter of course, I notice and regard
a thousand things which I never noticed otherwise; I seem to
have become completely transformed from a thinker into a
visual man. And I am amazed at the wealth of the visible
world. Until now I had often found that this world conceals
rather than reveals} that reality, as seen by the eye, is poor by
the side of that of the mind and of the soul. Now, however, I
recognise that it is marvellously rich, that it only depends upon
the talents of the observer how much it offers and means to
him} just as much meaning can be manifested in the play of
colours and lines as in the most intelligent structure of thought,
But, of course, it is a meaning of a different kind. They say
that the gods talk to each other in colours} this may well be}
but then they talk of something else than we do. I do not
know whether men who live continuously by their eyes are as
conscious of this as I am} the visible world is a world by itself}
l88 JAPAN PART vi
the experiences of a graphic artist do not possess a concrete
common denominator with those of the thinker. Therefore,
it means an absolute enrichment of my existence that for the
moment I am able to perceive like a Japanese painter.
For the moment for this attitude will not last long.^ The
possibility of being Japanese is certainly innate in me, just as
everything natural is innate in all men; every one may, delib-
erately or involuntarily, be, at various times, a tiger or a deer,
a waterfall, an earthquake or a plant} it simply^depends on the
elements of his being which he stresses.^ But in the long run
every individual is only capable of existence subject to the
attitude which defines him as suchj this attitude alone is a reli-
able means of ｅxpression for what is profoundest in him$
and for this reason, the entering into something top strange
unfortunately seldom proves to be as productive as in theory
it ought to be it does not lead us whither we would. This
afternoon, while I sat for hours on a wooded hill, among blos-
soming azaleas, with the wide expanse of Lake Biwa in front of
me, I experienced this once more myself. _ I assumed the
nature of the visual man; I became absorbed in the pure form
of plants; before long I was able to see them in the way in
which Japanese painters see them, and the meaning of every
line was revealed to me. But as I became more deeply concen-
trated, their visibility disappeared; not absolutely, but in its
own independent sense, with which alone art is concerned. I
began to realise ever more clearly what is becoming a true
reality for me more and more: the possibility of appearance.
once more I was in direct contact with that invisible power
which conditions existence and its nature from within, which
rules all the processes of growth and decay. And when light-
ning flashes of reflection darted through my mind, I won-
dered, as often before, why it is denied to me to have my
personal centre in pure possibility, and why I cannot, when 1
actualise myself, sometimes be the whole, and sometimes noth-
ing, and sometimes any single part of it. And my contempla-
tion was followed, as usual, by sadness. It is tragic for one's
knowledge to be in advance of one's ability. Why am I not
a god? only because I am wanting in physical strength; it
CHAP. 49 KYOTO 189
is the available quantity of energy, and nothing else, which
differentiates the metaphysician from God. If I possessed
sufficient power, then my ideas would, of their own accord,
become physical manifestations, and, as my thoughts wandered,
one world would succeed another. As it is, I am not even able
to be a Japanese as long as I wish; the limitations which I do
not recognise in idea control me all the same. Every -new
manifestation ultimately unmasks the old Keyserling again,
and this happens generally long before I have exhausted the
possibilities of the manifestation in question. What is one to
do? If my nature were purely that of an observer, I could
at any rate deceive myself concerning the facts, as most mystics
have done: I could not act so consistently, abide so continuously
in thought in the realm of possibility, that I would lose the
consciousness of my limitations, until the course of events really
explodes them one day. But unfortunately I am much too
active for such a condition to be possible for me. Nothing bet-
ter is left to me than to educate the invincible Keyserling into
so pliable an instrument that I at any rate do not need to waste
any attention on his existence while I work.
BEFORE I had seen a Japanese dancing festival I would never
have dreamt that rhythms as perfect as those of Byzantine
mosaics could be presented by living beings. The lute-players
on the right, the drummers on the left, seated in identical atti-
tudes, line the amphitheatre. They carry out identical move-
ments in uniform time, and form together a living frieze of
perfect rhythmic unity. And the Geishas, who performed
their character dances sometimes on the stage, sometimes along
the auditorium, produce the effect of angels in mediaeval
pictures of paradise, of mere repetitions of an eternally con-
stant symbol. on this occasion I felt more than ever: it is
pnly in rhythmic stylisation that nature becomes completely
herself; the richness of life is only fulfilled in the simplifying
curve. I felt as though I was being enlarged, as though all
inhibitions and barriers were vanishing; it was as though all
impulse became resolved in blissful harmony.
igo JAPAN PART vi
The accompanying music did not sound beautiful to Euro-
pean ears, but the performance itself was music. Here I
realised, for the first time, that moving colours and lines are
able to effect just what reverberations of tones can do. The
European ballet is too superficial to cause such effects} the
facial play of our musical dancers amounts to copying or
interpretation, it is not a direct ｅxpression. In principle, that
which Jacques-Dalcroze strives for should be able to embody
the ideal, only I am afraid it will only do so partially, because
our dancers, no matter how they are trained, remain conscious
individualities} a European cannot forget that he is a 'person-
ality. 5 In Japan the ideal is actually realised, because the per-
formers are Geishas } creatures born and trained to produce
blissful moods without self -consciousness} to represent an ara-
besque or an accompaniment selflessly } never to exist for and by
themselves. It does not enter into the mind of the man who
watches them that they possess individual souls. They are
what they are supposed to represent notes struck upon a
string, patches of colour, mosaics; elements without a signifi-
cance of their own. Blessed are the people who have thus hon-
oured the Geisha! Instead of expelling her contemptuously,
or using her only as a means of enjoyment, they have conse-
crated her as priestess: thus, that which may be the lowest
in itself takes part in the creation of the highest. The Geishas
have the privilege and the duty of fostering the old traditional
forms} thus, they are the guardians of the Holy of Holies.
In performing the ceremonies and dances again and again
which are the perfect ｅxpression of the soul of old Japan, they
preserve this soul alive through all time. And only they, the
loose, the light-hearted ones, are capable of doing this. None
but this type of humanity can be elemental in the manner re-
quired by ritual and ceremony, for only this type is, regarded
metaphysically, selfless} Geishas alone exist relatively in the
literal sense of the word, only they are literally without person-
ality. Therefore they are able to achieve what more autono-
mous types cannot do: they can represent to perfection what
in figurative ｅxpression is above personality.
The tea ceremony took place before the performance of the
CHAP. 49 KYOTO 191
dance. It was a wonderful experience for me to observe what
profound understanding simple folk brought to bear upon
the complex ritual. So long as this feeling for form remains
alive, Japan will not lose its soul. What is to happen, however,
when, even in this way, it follows the example of the West?
In Europe even the Pope no longer understands the profound
significance of form, not to mention the kings and princes j the
British nation alone represents a worthy exception up to the
present day. There perfect common sense has led to the same
result as artistic instinct has done in other cases: they know
that form not only represents content, but actually creates it,
and it translates this recognition into practice all the more
energetically, the more the content in itself loses in power.
To-day, when no one really believes any more in the divine
right of kings, their original prestige is expressed all the more
powerfully in externals, for the appearance reacts upon the
heart. The more the ties between the various parts of the
empire actually loosen, the more each part becomes individual-
ised, the more does the government place the symbol in the
foreground. Thus, the king, actually only one among other
officials, endowed with power far inferior to his ministers, is
surrounded, wherever serious matters are at stake, with a
semblance of majesty, of which Shah Djehan might be
envious.
Such means, of course, are not efficacious any longer every-
where. Englishmen are prepared to let form create in them-
selves what the Germans, for instance, are not prepared to do.
This does not prove that the Germans possess greater freedom,
but that Englishmen possess more culture. Wherever the
inner side of life is concerned, it is significance which creates the
facts; in the significance with which a form is credited, a
new and higher sphere of reality is revealed, and this form
awakens consciousness even in the souls of those who would
never have perceived it by themselves. This truth is still a
matter of course to the Japanese: will it remain so? I fear the
worst, because they do not understand itj they act in accord-
ance with it without knowing what they do. once they enquire
after the meaning, which is bound to happen sooner or later,
19 a JAPAN PART vi
it seems certain that they will give the wrong answer j they
will hardly let pass, as positivists, what is not directly intelli-
gible to their reason, and they will realise the meaning of
symbolical truth with much greater difficulty than we, who are
so much more mystically endowed (the Japanese regards the
European in general as remarkably superstitious) .
To return once more to the institution of the Geishas
(they are really an institution: their mastery in etiquette ^ is
patented, and the system has the Imperial sanction) : our social
reformers are horrified that such institutions still exist; if the
Geishas really are not personalities, they think they ought to
be educated to become personalities} it is said to be unworthy
of a human being to be only an element. Great heavens!
Most human beings are nothing but elements, and can only
attain their perfection as such, especially if they have Geisha
natures. I do not want to set up the old Japanese society as
ideal, but it is nevertheless true that its ^principle, in the given
empirical circumstances, makes self-realisation possible for the
elements in a far higher degree than our society does. And I
am not thinking here only of the courtesans, who in Europe,
thanks to our disgusting system, appear so much more de-
graded than they do in Japan: I am thinking of all classes of
society. Our ideal is the perfection of the individual; it is
perhaps the highest. But it is another question as to which
method is best suited to the attainment of this perfection.
Most people, even in the West, are not individualised enough
to become perfect by following their own impulses (this applies
even to the Italy of the Renaissance period). And as the
modern spirit of the age no longer favours the striving for the
perfection of types, the individuals are becoming more inde-
pendent, but in the same measure less distinctly marked than
they used to be* This is seen most clearly in the case of women.
It is, in accordance with her nature, more difficult for her than
for a man to find her perfection in and through herself; the
greatest women who have lived have grown to be what they
were by devotion to a man, to God, to an ideal. And now
even the lowest want to be 'altogether themselves.' These
foolish creatures do not understand that they would become
CHAP. 49 KYOTO 193
themselves in a far higher degree if they professed the type
proudly to which they belong and sought their perfection in it.
For this form which has been marked by the wisdom of both
history and nature, would help their individualities to a stronger
realisation than the personal ideal, which is usually visual-
ised only vaguely, and only rarely pursued with sufficient con-
sistency. on what a far lower level are most modern women
than those belonging to a past which is not remote! The high-
est type of present-day Europe is embodied in the French
woman of birth. For she alone is still educated so that she
shall represent all that she is.
I HAVE now spent many a night in Japanese inns and tea-
houses, and I have awakened many a fresh morning in their
low rooms, strewn with mats. Japan at night is full of the most
intimate charm. The outward picture of the streets does not
bear comparison with the Chinese} they are uniform, dark and
quiet, and the eye is attracted only rarely, as in China, by
picturesque and popular scenes. The night life of Japan takes
place beyond the streets. Here, behind paper walls, still per-
ceptible from the outside like a play of shadows, gay from the
hour of twilight until the late morning, night in, night out,
the sounds of lutes and the bright laughter of girls reverberates
out into the street.
How full of atmosphere were those nights in the country
inns, where I rarely succeeded in snatching an hour of unin-
terrupted sleep, because the troops of pilgrims below and next
door never tired of chatting and laughing! How full of at-
mosphere were those late hours in the town, where I sought re-
laxation from the efforts of the day in out-of-the-way quarters,
listening to the chirruping song of the Geishas, or beholding
the artistic mime of gaily painted children! How full of at-
mosphere just those things are here which lack this quality so
much in Europe! It is true that Flaubert asserts: il manque
quelque chose a celui qui ne s'est jamais reveille dans un lit sans
nom, qui n*a pas vu dormir sur son oreiller une tet& qu y ilne
verra $lus> but he can only have referred to those terrifying
194 JAPAN PART vi
experiences whose zenith is reached in the danse macabre, for in
the life of European courtesans the charm of loveliness is miss-
ing which genuine delight possesses. They are despised, they
seem embittered in so far as they are not ^dull animals by
nature j they are too conscious, too full of wariness, to be really
cheerful, therefore their mirth seems aggressive 5 and their
love stands, no matter how great their art may be, always in
the sign of baseness. In Japan, baseness seems unknown,
even to the lowest wench. Here all femininity is bent on
charm, and charm is educated in them as an end in itself. And
since the women do not see anything dishonouring in selling
themselves to a strange man for money, and the man sees
nothing shameful in visiting these pleasure houses, an atmos-
phere of harmless cheerfulness prevails in these establishments,
just as, in Europe, among children round the Christmas tree.
It is instructive to watch the Europeans who visit a Japanese
brothel for the first time. At first their features wear that ugly
ｅxpression which appears on the face of every man who em-
barks upon the path of vice} but this ｅxpression does not last
even on the faces of the coarsest and bluntest. They soon be-
come as harmlessly cheerful as the girls, and they soon lose
consciousness of the fact that, according to the ideas of their
own country, they are marching along an evil road. Here one
can gauge the truth of the saying that nothing makes the pure
impure. It is a matter of course to the Japanese that sexual
needs are satisfied, they see nothing ugly in the sexual act 5 the
girls who practise the profession of indiscriminate love of their
neighbour do not deem it dishonourable to themselves. And
as they think and feel this way, there is not only nothing impure
or ugly which clings to them the visitor takes a reflection of
their purity from the brothel home with him. How infinitely
lower are our typical sensations in these matters compared
with that of the Japanese! It is, of course, evil in itself that
there are prostitutes and a demand for them. However, this
state of affairs will never be abolished altogether; seeing the
constitution of human nature, no attempt to suppress sexual
intercourse other than that of marriage will succeed, and every
evil condition which is removed is replaced by a new one, which
CHAP. 49 KYOTO 195
is often worse. Is it not better, then, to meet this evil, as in
Japan, by removing its evil character? I am well aware that
this too has evil effects, just as everything in life leaves some
evil behind it. But as men before marriage will never lead a
continent life, and as their polygamous instincts will never
become extinct, since women will always be born into the
world who can only lead and be happy in the life of the
courtesan: is it not more desirable to meet the actual state of
affairs by an attitude which does not make it worse than it
already is? In Japan there is nothing to prevent a wench from
retaining a pure soul; therefore, she need not poison the man
who possesses her. In Japan there is a way back to respectable
existence from the house of pleasure. In Japan the end of
those is not necessarily hopeless whose possibility of existence
seems to depend on the freshness of their youth. The courte-
san's profession is officially recognised. It is respected in its
way like every other profession. Like every other, it is an
exclusive whole on the one hand, and, like every other, it is,
on the other hand, dependent upon metabolic assimilation.
It even has an official duty which endows it with that specific
self -consciousness which no profession can dispense with. I
have already written of the privilege which the Geishas possess,
of keeping alive the soul of Japan by the preservation of
the tradition of dancing, acting and playing. More than one
brothel seems to have imposed upon itself a similar ideal task,
which is honoured correspondingly: in many of these, the
highest traditions of style and culture which have been handed
down are fostered. one of these houses in Kyoto belongs to
the historical monuments. It has stood there for centuries,
managed by the original dynasty. The great men of the
country used to frequent it, in order to forget their worries in
cheerful company, or else in order to hold weighty confidential
conferences in secret. Precious mural paintings of famous
masters decorate the rooms, each one of which bears a name,
like those of the royal castles of England. The most exquisite
etiquette predominates among the inmates. Nowhere are the
ladies better educated, nowhere do they wear more tasteful
garments or speak a choicer language; they preserve the tradi-
196 JAPAN PART vi
tion of the courtly style. And this merit is recognised by the
state in so far as they have the right to lead the train during
the Imperial New Year's festival.
The Japanese attitude to sexual questions is, within the limits
to which my observations are confined to-day, not lower but
higher than our own. The existing reality no doubt does not
describe the highest possible embodiment of the ideal far
from it but the ideal as such is a higher one. In significance
I do not know a better attitude than the Japanese. And, in
fact, our efforts at reform gravitate automatically towards the
Japanese ideal, no matter how little our pioneers would like
this to be true. 'Immorality' is to be extirpated, the attempt is
attended by little success, but in the process something better
is attained: the fallen women are regarded with more kindly
eyesj everything possible is done to raise the self -conscious-
ness of the courtesan} the hopeless fate which inevitably
awaited unmarried mothers in former days awaits them less
and less. What else does this mean but that even Christian
humanity is beginning to recognise that a natural evil can only
be disposed of by removing its nature as far as possible? The
fallen girl who is not ashamed of her fall does not need to
descend on the ladder of human beings. It is better to create a
world in which everything negative is transmuted to positive
qualities, rather than to moralise. Every manifestation can
mean something positive x j it rests with us to bring about such
interpretation. The new significance of the old facts thereupon
produces new and better facts out of itself. . . .
I PICK up the thread of yesterday's observations. That
Chinaman who asserted that the real reason why the European
professes the ideal of chastity is their immense brutality com-
pared with the Asiatics was not so wrong after allj the Euro-
peans, he claimed, had to have an ideal which is in direct oppo-
sition to their real nature, whereas the gentler, generally
vegetarian and therefore less animalic inhabitants of the East
1 The proof that we are absolutely free fundamentally is the chief content
of my book Schopferische Erkenntmss, Darmstadt, 1924 (Otto Reichl Verlag).
CHAP. 49 KYOTO 197
could profess a more natural attitude without danger. It is
really true: in the East even the abnormal individual is hardly
so brutally sensual as the average European; where the spirit
of the age does not create artificial barriers, the atmosphere of
Europe is sensually provocative to a degree which strikes
every one who has been away from it for a time as pathologi-
cal; it is not too much to assert that the atmosphere at a bal
blanc in France is more sultry than that in a Japanese brothel.
There is nothing in the European woman, from her openwork
stockings to the purity and innocence which she displays, which
is not calculated, in the subtlest manner, to provoke the desire
of the man. Every extra garment which she puts on acts as an
additional inducement to strip her of it. And since our social
culture, whatever people may say, owes its peculiar character
to the part played by women in it, the result is an accentuation
of the erotic of the whole of existence. Let no one suppose that
this is the consequence of the more liberal attitude to matters
of love which is continually gaining more prominence of late:
negation and affirmation point psychologically always to the
same thing; the prudery of the puritan means exactly the same
as the cynicism of the libertine. This is not true to such an
extent that, as my Chinese friend remarked quite correctly, our
profession of the ideal of chastity is in reality the proof of our
boundless sensuality.
His further assertion that we need the ideal of chastity in
order to control ourselves at all is of course applicable only
partially simply because nothing increases the seductive effect
of love more than the presupposition of its sinfulness; yet his
thesis contains more truth than one might suppose. Among
Frenchmen, in whose case erotic activity meets with the small-
est psychic resistance, on the one hand more honesty, and to
this extent more purity, predominates than among Englishmen
and Germans, and they possess a culture of the sensuous which
cannot live where its existence is purposely ignored; on the
other hand, the erotic plays such a part among them that one
may ask the question whether a little more hypocrisy and bar-
barism is on the whole not less harmful than an attitude to love
which, just because it corresponds exactly to a given nature,
x 9 8 JAPAN PART vi
places greater obstacles in the path of its ennoblement. The
same applies to a lesser extent to Catholic Germany and Aus-
tria. The northern Germanic races are certainly not less sensu-
ous than those previously referred to; and where they seem to
be so this is due to a lesser degree of differentiation, not to the
weakness of their impulses. But since, thanks to their Prot-
estant inheritance, a consciousness of sin generally plays its part
when they love, so that even those least fettered by prejudice
only dare in exceptional cases to let themselves go altogether,
they behave better on the whole to begin with than corresponds
with their nature, and they really ^become better in the ^ long
run because education changes their disposition. Brutality is
commuted into tension. To this extent it is undoubtedly true
that it is good for us to believe in the sinf ulness of cohabitation.
There is no better illustration of the physical and spiritual
blindness which characterises most travellers than the view
which they have imparted to the West concerning the sensu-
ality and lasciviousness of the Asiatics compared with Chris-
tians: the precise opposite is true. No one would accuse
animals, which do not know any psychic inhibitions, of sensu-
ousness in the evil sense. In the same way the people of the
East are non-sensual compared with us Westerners; and they
are less sensual moreover in so far as their instincts are much
less brutal than our own. In all probability they copulate
relatively more in the East; in the given climatic circumstances
this is natural. Among some nations especially the Chinese
and the Indians the Ars Amandi is developed to a high
degree, but the facts as such are not decisive: what counts is the
significance attributed to them. And the erotic means much
less to the Oriental than it does to us. It is a matter of course
to him that he has sexual requirements, a matter of course that
he satisfies them; and since this is so they hardly occupy his
consciousness. once more: how infinitely less sensuous is the
atmosphere of an Eastern brothel than that of a European
ball! If among us a woman merely shows her shoe it means
more than when a Japanese lady strips herself; the most highly
cultured ladies of our great capitals are more aggressive in
their intercourse with men than a prostitute would ever dare
CHAP. 49 KYOTO 199
to be in the East And what if I should think of India! With
what wonderful wisdom has this people solved the sexual
question, how wisely, especially from the point of view of
spiritual progress, with which it is concerned so much more
seriously than sanctimonious Christianity! There they never
attempt to violate nature because they have known for cen-
turies, what Freud has only discovered recently, that repressed
desires are more corrupting in their effects than the most evil
which are confessed freely. In India monastic tendencies are
looked upon askance in every one who does not seem destined
to become a Yogi; before he is a grandfather, the normal ex-
pression of natural instincts is not repressed but facilitated;
all the barriers are lacking which the presupposition of the
sinfulness or ugliness of love creates. In their place other
barriers are erected by the supposition of love's sanctity. Love
is regarded as divine in itself so that erotic images in India
never belong to pornography but to iconography. Moreover,
in every individual case love is specially sanctified. The marital
relationship is interwoven with so many religious ideas that its
sexual element appears thoroughly spiritualised, and precisely
that which in Christendom is regarded as a concession to the
sinful flesh becomes a means of spiritual progress. Even
intercourse with prostitutes is sanctified where it seems inevi-
table (which is the case to a far smaller degree in India, where
every one marries early). The penitents who have taken the
oath of chastity are not always altogether free from the fetters
of sensuality. If they suppress these artificially, the danger
exists that their imagination, instead of becoming ever purer,
becomes ever dirtier, as in the case of St. Anthony. To avoid
this, they satisfy their passions, as if they were making a sacri-
fice, by employing courtesans who surrender themselves, on
their part, for the sake of God. The nature of facts is every-
where determined by the significance with which they are
credited: thus, no matter how sophisticated this interpretation
may be, as long as it is done in good faith, the relapse into Na-
ture's hands does not become fettering to the spirit thirsting for
freedom. The outcome of all this is that, in India, with the
single exception of the princely courts, an atmosphere of non-
200 JAPAN PART VI
sensuality dominates which alone makes it intelligible why
philosophising and religious meditation lead^ there to such
marvellous results. The meaning of all restriction of sexual
life is solely that it shall not play a greater part in the whole
expenditure of energy than is its due by nature. And an hyper-
trophy of the sexual factor, which can certainly lead to real
poisoning, is prevented more than by all repression, by assur-
ing and justifying the normal ｅxpression of this impulse.
Among us this happens only in marriage. It will be an eternal
source of glory to the East that it has understood how to carry
out the same regulation outside wedlock, so that an equally
clean atmosphere prevails in brothels as in a well-conducted
Western family. For this is actually the case. No matter how
many facts people may adduce to prove Oriental immorality
they prove nothing and can prove nothing, because it is the
significance on which alone everything depends, and Japanese
laxity means about the same as the chastity of frigid English-
women.
This beautiful system is not applicable among us. Not be-
cause we are better, but because we are too brutal on the one
hand, and, on the other, too biased by the ideas of Christian
asceticism, and, above all, because we are too matter-of-factj
to us, facts seem more significant than their meaning. But we
are, nevertheless, tending in the opposite direction away from
prejudice. Just at present the babble of the beauty of love as
such, of living a full life, of the right of every woman to the
joys of motherhood, is a little exaggerated; but if the tradi-
tional barriers are rejected, lock, stock and barrel, as prejudices,
this' only means the normal stormy phase preparatory to the
expert and liberal attitude of the future. There is no doubt
that marriage will be regarded less and less as a conditio sine
qua non for having children; the fact of virginity will be less
and less decisive in regard to the honour or dishonour of a girl j
women, like men, will be able to follow their personal laws
more and more freely. The old forms of social life will not
become extinct for this reason, they will continue to exist just
as before, in fact they will hardly suffer quantitatively. O$ly
other forms will be regarded as normal too, just as the main
CHAP. 49 KYOTO 201
sign of achieved progress in culture is the general fact that
man needs to reject ever fewer forms of life in order to regard
his particular existence as justified.
THERE can only be one opinion about Japanese women on
the part of any one who has a little feeling for style, that is
to say, on the part of any man who does not demand the
performances of a hippopotamus from a butterfly: the Japanese
woman is one of the most perfect, one of the few absolutely
accomplished products of this creation. I do not wish to under-
take to describe her advantages in detail: this has often been
done by a master hand. Here, too, it would be difficult for me
to be objective} the atmosphere of Japanese femininity is so
sympathetic to me that I have hardly become aware of her
disadvantages. It is really too delightful to behold women
who are nothing but gracefulness} who pretend nothing but
what they are, who do not want to show off anything but what
they can really do, whose heart is cultivated to the extreme.
At the bottom of their souls there are not too many European
girls who want anything more and anything else than their
sisters in the Far East they want to please, they want to be
femininely attractive, and everything else, including intellectual
interests, is a means to an end for them. How many of those
who apparently have only mental aspirations would not breathe
a sigh of relief if they could disregard this circuitous means of
charm, which it is difficult for them to dispense with in their
world, and present themselves as the Japanese women do! But
this is just what they would succeed in with difficulty, what
those who attempt it fail in. The modern girl is already too
conscious to be perfect in a naive form, too knowing for an
existence of pure gracefulness, above all, she is too rich in her
nature to be easily perfected at all. In lovableness no mod-
ern Western beauty can match herself with a well-educated
Japanese lady.
The aesthetic value is surely not the only one which is in
question, and it can only be regarded as a highest value where
the form implies the fulfilment of all existing content, as in the
2O2
JAPAN PART VI .
case of the best types of Old China. This is not S<D in the case
of the Japanese woman; she cannot be taken seriously as a
personality, and to this extent those people are right who
place her beneath the European woman. on the other hand,
it should be remembered that any perfection is better than
none at all. No matter how perfect many European women
are, whose type belongs to past ages I do not know a single
one among modern women who signifies more than a hasty
sketch of her specific ideal. Therefore, for this age I must
give the palm to the lady of Japan.
The Japanese lady whom I have in my mind will also belong
to the past ere long, just as the European grande-dame does
already. No aesthetically sensitive man will envisage this fate
without melancholy. With her, one of the sweetest charms on
earth will pass away, and nothing of equal value will replace
her soon, no matter how much effort is expended in^ this
direction. The European woman undoubtedly holds a higher
position in life than the Japanese; more possibilities are open
to her, more traits of her being are developed, and our family
life in particular is, in idea, much higher than that of Asia.
But what especially the Japanese forget generally is that the
advantages of our condition exist chiefly in abstracto y and that
the value of abstract entities depends entirely on the extent to
which they are appropriate to the concrete 5 the better system
does not necessarily produce a better reality. on the contrary,
it destroys reality only too easily. The Japanese woman ap-
pears perfect as she is or was; where the state of her con-
sciousness corresponds to her condition, she is precisely as
happy as the American; she is, moreover, according to her
advantages, the direct product of the prevailing circumstances.
If these change, the advantages will disappear in the process.
Whether, by way of compensation, the Japanese woman will
gain what she has lacked hitherto, is all the more questionable,
as our women are not yet nearly so advanced that one can say
that they deserve thoroughly their new and wide scope.
Every definite condition has a positive effect upon life: this
sentence possesses axiomatic validity; positive in the sense
that it brings about definite manifestations which no other
CHAP. 49 KYOTO 203
condition makes possible. Some of these manifestations are
desirable, others undesirable, in the absolute sense none is
perfect, because everything definite is simultaneously limited.
What, however, must never be overlooked is that the advan-
tages imply something much more positive than any failings.
In the negative direction nature does not seem to have a great
many possibilities open to her. on the one hand, what is in
the descendant is preserved with difficulty and cannot be
strengthened by heredity; on the other hand, negative quali-
ties deserve their description also in so far as they bring about
degeneration, and for this reason all types converge towards
their lowest level; existences which have met with failure or
misfortune appear similar everywhere at all times. ^ on the
higher regions, however, there seems to be no limit to the
possibilities of variety. Just imagine for once the wealth of
diverse qualities which in difficult circumstances change has
called into existence in men: life which is in the ascendant
makes great headway everywhere; in correlation to changing
circumstances new forms of beauty blossom again and again,
and each beauty was possible only once subject to special
circumstances which never occur again. Thus, the perfection
of the Japanese woman is the direct product of her position in
life, which she has occupied for centuries; whatever may be
said against this position we owe to it the Japanese woman as
she is. How miserable is the argument: she deserves a better
fate, since she is so charming! one never deserves what robs
one of one's beauty. No matter what immeasurable aclvan-
tages new circumstances may possess in abstraoto the feminine
type of the past will not continue among them, and Japan
will hardly produce a new one equal in value to the old, least
of all one which corresponds to the latest European ideal,
since the given limits of body and soul are ^too small. The
idea of progress can perhaps be represented in the form of a
straight line: real progress, in so far as it is susceptible of proof,
takes the form of an agitated and frequently broken curve; it
breaks off again and again because every human type is, as a
rule, capable of only one kind of perfection.
204 JAPAN PART vi
onE word more in connection with the much decried laxity of
Japanese women in erotic matters. It seems monstrous to a
European that a girl sells her purity in order to fulfil other
duties. This must certainly not be understood in the sense
that the Japanese woman is the ideal being who sacrifices her
highest for the sake of something objectively still higher
(although the lack of egoism she has been brought up to is so
great that her behaviour often creates the impression of ^ the
prof oundest metaphysical knowledge; the Geisha often reminds
one of a saint to the point of deception). No, purity really
means less to her than it does to European women. All
the peoples of the East regard concession to naturaHmpulses
as a matter of course; if these impulses are curbed^ it is done
from external motives; they lack our inner inhibitions. But
here I ask: is the European ideal of purity really so lofty? Its
historical explanation lies in the early Christian ascetic atti-
tude, according to which sexual intercourse is a sin, and this
attitude is false; its lasting cause is to be found, as far as I can
see, in purely utilitarian considerations: the virginity of girls
is, on the one hand, a concession to, on the other,^a speculation
on, the egoism of the world of men. In and by itself nothing
is normally further removed from woman than to idealise vir-
ginity: for her, surrender is much rather the ideal, and must
be so, since the race-instincts predominate in her conscious-
ness. If virginity really should represent a highest quality,
then this trend of thought leads straight away to an apotheosis
of selfishness. one may idealise as much as one pleases:
woman's fight for her purity a tout prix is nothing but self-
assertion and in this connection there is hardly a doubt that
the Japanese woman who sells herself to a brothel in order to
make it possible for her brother, by her earnings, to fight for
his country, is the higher being. The Europeans would take a
different view if their sensibilities were more delicate: they
only rarely know how to differentiate between purity in the
sense of loyalty and purity in the sense of virginity (as a phys-
ical fact). In the first sense the Japanese woman is inferior to
no European woman: there are no more chaste women than
she. And if, in the second sense, her ideas are more lax
CHAP. 50 I S E 205
should this not lead us to deduce more certain instinct and
more impartial thinking rather than immorality? Do not our
best men and women begin to think more and more in the
Japanese way? one should compare our ideas of decency with
the Japanese view. Our women go to a ball almost nakedly,
with the manifest intention of being provocative, but they
would die of shame if a stranger surprised them in their bath.
The Japanese woman shows herself naked without shame to
all the world in her bath, but she would not dream of dressing
herself provocatively on a festive occasion: is it not obvious
that everything depends on the intention? . . . Which attitude
is the profounder, the more pure? . . .
i
So
ISE
TARRY near the holiest place of the Shinto cult, at the temple
of Amaterasu O-Mikami, the divine woman-ancestor of the
imperial house. How much more atmosphere there is in this
simple thatched block-house building, which is erected afresh
every twenty years, than in the gold-laden Buddha temples!
Here the best spirit of Japan has its sanctuary. It is the spirit
of simplicity, purity, loyalty, of sacrifice for emperor and
country, but also the spirit of boldness, daring and knightly
adventure; the spirit of the Japanese as it sees itself in the
mirror of its own idealism. Every pilgrim who approaches
this sanctuary is overcome by this spirit; it takes possession of
him, raises him, enlarges him, lifts him up above his petty
ego, now he feels himself to be at one with Japan, the immortal
empire. I too am seized by this spirit. From the depths of my
consciousness feelings rise up which I hardly know and with
which I am yet familiar. They form themselves into a new
soul, a soul similar to that of a Greek of early antiquity. Yes,
of course, I am only a member in the unending chain of life, of
course I am one with all those who came before me; of course,
my mind is rooted, not in myself, but in that which is above the
individual, in the race from which I spring, which I embody,
206 JAPAN PART vi
and which it is my duty to continue. And if I seek for a symbol
of this superindividual reality, which I feel so clearly and yet
find so difficult to determine, then I am led back, as a matter
of course, to the founder of my line, the Distant ancestor to
whom all later life owes its existence. It is he who animates
all his progeny, it is he who continues to act in me; I owe him,
before all others, reverence, love and gratitude. And as I think
of him in adoration, the noblest emotions are awakened in my
soul. I want to rival him, the great-hearted hero, I_ want to be
worthy of him. He partook of all possible perfection, he was
far greater even than I can imagine him. I cannot serve him
better than by striving towards the highest, and thus all ideal-
ism in me becomes an impulse towards cult. How foolish to
smile upon the worship of ancestors as superstitious! Un-
doubtedly it characterises an early stage, but this worship ex-
presses, where it is genuine and alive, a consciousness of reality
such as only the highest religiosity expresses on higher natural
levels. It is really true that man is inwardly connected with
everything which was before him and will be after him; the
primitive man who is near to nature is more conscious of this
fact than the late-comer. 1 on a higher plane only woman
knows this in whose consciousness the original relations of life
continue; she alone still feels herself to be directly at one with
her race j her intellect is rarely independent enough to suffocate
her natural feeling. And then the heirs of an old tradition are
aware of it, the ancient nobles, who for centuries, from father
to son, have lived on their estates and become a very part of
them, whose mind is consciously rooted in the superindividual:
here, feelings of responsibility and pride see to it that the
original spirit is preserved. The consciousness of women and
of noblemen is not more superficial, it reaches lower down
than that of uprooted intellectuals. It is true that their pro-
fundity is only one kind of profundity, that of Nature; the
consciousness of unity in the man who reveres his ancestors
does not reach beyond her, but where the soul is still tied
physiologically, no direct consciousness of Atman is possible.
*! have developed this trend of thought in my Unsterblickkeit, 3rd ed.,
Darmstadt, 1920.
CHAP. 50 I S E 207
In the same way, the mental images in whicli consciousness
of reality is embodied are rarely profound: but it cannot be
expected of primitive men that their thoughts should be of
equal value with their intuition. For this reason the rational-
istic observer rarely finds the forms of ancestral cults to his
taste, especially those of Japan, whose content of ideas is
hardly intelligible. The Japanese is so unfitted for thought,
he has so little feeling for the abstract, he experiences so little
annoyance at intellectual insufficiency, that it seems to be a
hopeless attempt really to comprehend his national cult. This
is, judged from the outside, a curious mixture of veneration of
ancestors and nature, of magic and of $oint d'honneur, of cus-
tom and aspiration for the highest, of crude superstition and
primitive sense for reality; if a Japanese explains that the ven-
eration of the Mikado is based upon the fact that his ancestors
have ruled over all their ancestors, this is no explanation,
hardly a commentary: it is a mere presentation of fact, which
will never be understood by the man who does not know some-
thing similar from his own experience. Nevertheless, the
veneration of the Mikado is an extreme of profundity, it really
implies a supreme metaphysical experience. The specific ap-
pearance is simply an ｅxpression, and one appropriate only to
the Japanese, but for them it is adequate as no other ｅxpression
could be. Lately, a Shinto shrine was unveiled in Tokyo in the
bacteriological institute for Robert Koch. It is highly improb-
able that any of the professors and students, all of whom are
presumably agnostics, assumed that Koch had become a god;
not many perhaps believed in his continued existence after
death. But the erection of a temple and the institution of a
cult according to the Shinto ritual seemed to all of them the
most appropriate ｅxpression of the veneration for the great
scientist.
The Government is very wise in encouraging the resuscitation
of the Shinto cult to the best of its power: it awakens, like no
other, the prof oundest reverberations of the Japanese soul, or
it leads them, where they exist, to ｅxpression. Basil Hall
Chamberlain has recently pointed out that Shintoism, as it
exists as the state-religion to-day, is a new invention; he shows
208 JAPAN PART VI
that for a thousand years Buddhism was the Japanese religion,
and how what is taught to-day as the original faith is an arti-
ficial fabrication. The facts have probably been determined
correctly, but not their significance! It was only possible to
introduce an artificial product in less than fifty years as the
inherited faith, because its form was appropriate to the inner-
most life of the Japanese soul; if an attempt had been made
to establish Christianity thus, the attempt would never have
succeeded. I too am of the opinion that the special mani-
festations of cult and faith are the inventions of the priests j
somebody must have invented them. But where they suc-
ceeded in introducing their inventions, these inventions always
gave the best possible ｅxpression to a general tendency. Yes,
the Government is very wise in supporting and encouraging
the Shinto religion by every means j and the Government un-
doubtedly knows why it does so. Japan is in the not undanger-
ous position of a decidedly unindividualised, impersonal people,
which has surrendered itself unconditionally to the influence
of a civilisation which is based on the inner assumption of
extreme individualisation. Its external side can only do it
good 5 this has already been brilliantly proved by Japan. But
if its spirit takes possession of the Japanese at too early a stage,
then evil awaits them. They are not yet far enough for every-
body to act by his own initiative in the spirit of the whole 5
their metaphysical knowledge has no other means of ｅxpression
than that which passes through the physiological feeling for
cohesion. If this people loses its primitive group-consciousness,
its self -consciousness in the sense of the cite antique^ then the
cohesion is destroyed. All the Japanese in whom the spirit
of old Japan (Yamato damashii) does not live any more, are
repulsively superficial.
CHAP.SI MYANOSHITA 209
MYANOSHITA
T?OR the first time since I am in Japan pictures of the Hima-
l/ layas rise up in my mind. While I am high up in a valley,
dreaming in front of a torrent which pours over steep rocks
through luxuriant growth down to the level, I have to think of
the mountain forests through which I roamed at one time
with such delight. Here too the frame which encloses it all is
magnificent by itself: the heights round about me are bare and
wild, interspersed with steaming, sulphurous springs} the
snow-clad peaks of Fuji beckon across the tops of the hills in
the foreground; dark pine forests cover the lower slopes. And
even there charm is not lacking: the luxuriance of the ^ vegeta-
tion again and again creates hidden arbours where nothing^robs
the fern-clad springs of their idyllic character. Why is it,
then, that I nevertheless experience no sensation of grandeur?
The fault lies with the cunning little men who have impressed
their peculiarity upon this country: their understanding of
nature is so inordinately great that they have subjugated their
surroundings aesthetically. Just as a single patch of colour
can determine and change the meaning of a picture, soothe
Japanese, by deliberately inserting his particular existence into
surrounding nature, has transferred the keynote of the latter
so completely into himself that what is great now merely
seems to fill out what is small. In the process, grandeur is
expelled from the world.
The capacity of the Japanese for recognising, understanding,
absorbing and recreating the great in the diminutive, is, of
course, seen from the angle of the absolute, something very
great indeed. His exquisite feeling for nature means the same
as the metaphysical sense of the world in the Indian^or among
us, therefore only a fool can see a failing in his case in its non-
existence. one can even go further: what does the mystic
mean when he asserts that his soul enters into infinity? Not
that the drop disappears in the ocean, but the reverse, that the
sea is absorbed by a drop and that is what Japanese art
?>
210 JAPAN PART VI
achieves in its sphere and with its particular means. But this
consideration does not alter the fact that there is no room for
grandeur within the Japanese realm of possibilities; it may^be
striven for, but it is never attained, simply because that which
is small can never be grand in effect. When a nation of ants
defends its ant-heap with such contempt of death as may never
be found among men, we are full of admiration, but it does
not seem great to us; everything depends upon the proportions
of the fundamental correlation. In the case of the Chinese,
every single thing points back to the Tao; correspondingly,
even chinoiserie has heaven as a background. In Japan every-
thing remains confined within the frame of human life, and
Japan, not the universe, is the highest synthesis. For this
reason, the sobbing girl who faces death for the sake of her
lover produces a wonderfully vital impression, just as the stern
Samurai who commits suicide from motives of an injured sense
of honour; all intimate tragedies are within the picture. Hero-
ism on a great scale extends beyond the frame.
The importance of quantity should not be underestimated.
once we descend from the level of the absolute and we must
do that whenever we wish to do justice to single phenomena
then we must admit that there is a difference between totality
and singularity, between a chrysanthemum and the world-
creating, God. Everything living is indeed god-like j every one
participates in his way in the creation of the world, and as his
labours are Correlated with those of all others, every perfect
ｅxpression reveals directly the significance of the whole. But
the man who creates on a large scale is of a different calibre
from the proficient diminutive artist. A God sets millions of
vibrations in motion with a single thought, and what the bee
does afterwards must first have been made possible by Him.
God is very likely incapable in details; He would scarcely be a
good miniaturist. He is undoubtedly limited in His way just
because He is capable only of everything, and must therefore
delegate particulars to lesser people, just as He has always
done, and hardly without compelling reason. Greatness un-
doubtedly is limited by the fact of its greatness, and in the same
way as this applies to smallnessj nevertheless, the former is
CHAP, si MYANOSHITA 211
more than the latter. As long as we are entangled in the world
of appearances and who knows if we will ever get beyond
It? so long must we countenance this state of affairs, so long
as the mere concept of enlargement is to retain its meaning, so
long does quantity retain its objective value. Therefore, gran-
deur is more than loveliness, no matter how perfect it may be.
In the Himalayas nature possesses traits which can only be
understood in relation to cosmic assumptions j the whole scen-
ery defies human standards 5 no matter how luxurious the flora
may be, it seems only like a touch of patina on an enormous
bronze vessel. There is nothing in Japan that I know of which
could not be understood from the human point of view. Nature
seems big occasionally even here, but then only the outer
frame is great, and the emphasis is laid upon the picture. The
single twig of blossom held against the background of empty
space the favourite motif of so many Japanese artists does
indeed awaken in us a feeling of infinity. But it is, neverthe-
less, the blossoming twig which causes this feeling and gives it
colour.
The concepts of our time which relate to this question seem
to me to be somewhat chaotic. Conscious of the truth that
everything perfect expresses infinity, we have got to the point
of overlooking the differences in other dimensions 3 the blos-
soming twig is put on the same level with God. This would
not be a misfortune in itself: what does it matter what the
critics assert? But it may become a tragedy eventually, in so
far as it corrupts creative minds. Rainer Maria Rilke, a sensi-
tive, delicate soul, has occasionally, when singing of the falling
leaves of autumn, revealed God. But when he speaks of God
directly he, so to speak, talks past Him. Rilke belongs to
those to whom flowers are the most tangible ｅxpression of
eternity. He should leave it to minds built on a larger scale to
speak directly of the Divine.
212 JAPAN PART VI
52
NIKKO
THERE is grandeur in Japan after all. The scenery of
Nikko, with its steep rocks, its foaming waterfalls, its gi-
gantic fir-trees and cryptomeria, is grand} and it produces this
effect above all because it supplies a frame for a singularly
powerful manifestation of humanity. In the lyeyasu temple
there is a spirit of grandeur such as I have not felt since Pekin.
lyeyasu, the founder of the Tokugawa Dynasty, which con-
trolled the destiny of this country for more than two and a half
centuries under the mock-sovereignty of the Mikados, was a
mighty man, comparable with the mightiest from every part
of the earth. And just as quantitative transposition brings
about qualitative change in the whole of nature, so did the
Japanese type of ruler experience a radical metamorphosis in
him: it was neither the halo of mythology nor courtly prestige,
neither the advance of birth nor cleverness, nor a strong arm,
which provided the background for this power it was that
genuine superiority of the born ruler which, though containing
everything within it, yet towers above it; that intrinsic maj-
esty which distinguishes all very great kings. lyeyasu has
left this spirit as a heritage to his successors -, this spirit still
rules over Nikko, over the monumental tombs of the Toku-
gawas and their vassals, creating a psychic atmosphere which
exists in no other place in Japan.
It is marvellous that this one man was able to create a type
which, compared with every other manifestation of the Jap-
anese spirit, seems to belong to another dimension! And it is
marvellous, above all, that this type has continued! I know
no more impressive example of how decisive the frame of a
picture can be for its character. Different forces are re-
leased in man according to his outward position j the prin-
ciple of life modifies its appearance in accordance with its
opportunity for ｅxpression. Prestige, might, riches, the faith-
ful admiration by inferiors, are an equal number of formative
forces which cultivate and educate the soul, and often bring
CHAP. 52 NIKKO 213
about a radical metamorphosis from to-day to to-morrow.
This state of affairs is recognised by popular legend in the
saying: God gives him intelligence to whom He gives an office.
only this saying overlooks one essential: that it is not every
one, no matter how much intelligence he may have, who dis-
charges every office well. The decisive factor is the living
spirit which makes use of the intelligence, and this factor is a
constant element in every one, capable of increase only in rare
exceptions. The spirit in which a man was educated dominates
him generally until the end. This is the true meaning of the
idea of legitimacy, and also of the distrust of the homo novus:
for one lyeyasu, one Acoka, one Napoleon, there are thousands
of talented upstarts who were not fit for their new posi-
tions. In order to exploit to the full the forces which a ruling
position may liberate in every one, this position must be ac-
cepted as a matter of course. The consciousness of the ruler
must coincide with the normal consciousness. And to believe
in oneself to the extent which is required to treat as a matter of
course what but lately was inconceivable, is given only to the
rare genius. This affords to the man born to a certain position
an absolute advantage over the upstart, it gives to an insignifi-
cant hereditary king another pull over a distinguished par-
venu. In the course of my life I have studied carefully the
mentality of the various types of men with whom fate has
brought me into relation: ruling princes, statesmen, financial
magnates, rising men of talent 5 in the case of all those who
were born to power and not degenerate, I have met with a
normal state of consciousness which, though attainable by an
ordinary mortal, is never normal to him, and this consciousness
implies absolute superiority. This too has, of course, its specific
limit; where the frame does not correspond to the picture, as is
more and more the case to-day, superiority assumes the aspect
of inferiority. But the vocation of the born ruler to rule strikes
one nevertheless so forcibly that I have often asked myself in
amazement how humanity can be so blind as to wish to give
up the breeding of regents, when it breeds racehorses and
milch cows. The opposite test leads to the same result; when-
ever I had an opportunity of watching the rise of an important
214 JAPAN PART vi
man, I could, first of all, always observe inner growth: his own
being found more and more means of ｅxpression. But as soon
as the enlargement of the frame had led beyond a certain
critical point, which was nearer or further away according to
his calibre, he suddenly became smaller again; the means
had become greater than the man. The limit of such stunted
growth is the caricature of the parvenu. lyeyasu had lifted
his family to a position which was unique in importance in the
whole of Japan. He himself was one of the few upstarts who
was predestined, not only to rise, but to live on the heights.
He passed on to his heirs the frame he had built for his own
life. And this frame evinced so much formative power that the
Shoguns possessed for two hundred years a style greater than
any Japanese before or after them; and even to-day the
spirit of their greatness still hovers over their graves.
53
TOKYO
THE imperial city ... it is altogether without soul and
style, in spite of its magnificent planning, which dates
from^the Shogun period, and in spite of all the beauty which it
contains^ Tokyo is a modern city in the most unpleasant mean-
ing of this word.
And Tokyo, just Tokyo, is at the same time the residence of
a mythical ruler, a monarch, whose people regard his position
as higher than the Chinese regard that of the Son of Heaven;
it is the residence of an emperor whose divine right really
means Divinity! This co-existence of what is primordial with
modernity is most remarkable. The fact that the Mikados
have preserved their prestige through centuries, whereas they
had almost no power, seeing that they were puppets in the
hands of their stewards, and were installed and discarded like
junior officials, does not seem surprising if one understands the
significance with which the Mikados are invested by the
opinion of the people: they belong to a different level of exist-
ence from their subjects, and therefore it did not matter much
CHAP. 53 TOKYO 215
what happened to them in the human sphere} they were re-
garded as on a level with the gods, who are broken to pieces
when they cause displeasure, but who nevertheless remain
higher beings. But that their prestige continues in the old
sense when they, like other regents, play a definite part in the
body of the state, that is something which is probably unprec-
edented,
Japan has progressed because a mythical ruler decreed it so.
Until recently the court dictated public opinion: the imperial
edicts of the most trifling content were read with the devotion
which is appropriate to the revelation of heaven; the most
distinguished statesmen of the old school did not regard them
very differently from the common people. It cannot be denied
that this state of affairs was to the benefit of Japan. Wherever
individuals do not feel themselves to be emancipated, where
they are inclined to imagine higher powers in the shape of
personal symbols, where, moreover, the power of faith is
sufficient, autocracy is the best form of government. There
the ruler literally embodies the will of the nation, there the
nation becomes literally conscious of itself in himj there the
nation and the autocrat are actually at one inwardly. For
there the personality of the autocrat, thanks to the creative
faith of his subjects, grows of its own accord beyond the normal
human scale. The Indian sages teach that exactly as far as a
soul has risen in its struggle to God, He stoops to meet it.
This is just what is true in reference to the relation of a ruler
and his people: the more they concede to their ruler, the more
does he develop towards the ideal of his subjects. The Russian
Czars represented, until quite recently, a higher type of man-
kind than the constitutional monarchs of Western Europe,
for they were borne aloft by a powerful faith. In this way,
Mutsushito, an average nature at the outset, has proved him-
self a great man because divinity was expected of him.
once more I think of the problems of the comparative merits
of monarchy and republic, and I see myself induced once again
to profess my adherence to the monarchic system. How ad-
mirably the overestimation of a superior justifies itself! No
matter whether the superior originally deserves the veneration
2l6 JAPAN PART VI
which is paid to him or not: if he is not actually bad, he does
deserve it in the long run; every well-intentioned monarch has,
in the course of time, developed into a more important human
being than nine-tenths of his subjects. And while they, on the
other hand, revere their ruler as a being of a higher kind, they
act and become better than they would do in different circum-
stances. Even mediocre individuals exert themselves to the
utmost out of consideration for others, only the most highly
cultured individual exerts himself thus out of consideration for
himself. In a republic, moreover, every one is sovereign in
principle, every one can advance to be the first man of the
land; thus, no one feels cause for self -limitation; ambition and
lust for power grow beyond all limits, and these excrescences
endanger the soul. How unanimously all the facts give the
lie to the prejudices of our age! The Japanese of the old
regime do not regard themselves as individuals in the modern
sense, and they are, humanly speaking, nevertheless far more
valuable than most of the moderns. I am reminded of Laotse's
verse:
Heaven is eternal and the earth enduring.
The cause of the eternal duration of heaven and earth is
That they do not live unto themselves.
Therefore they can give life continuously.
And again:
He puts his own being behind,
And his own being advances.
He discards his own being,
And his being is preserved. Is it not thus:
Because he wants nothing for his own
Therefore his own becomes perfect?
I have now also made the acquaintance of some of the great
men of the Empire: they can hardly be referred to in the same
breath as the common herd. The best among them have some-
thing of the old Roman, something keen, clear; their superi-
CHAP. 53 TOKYO 217
ority is to them a matter of course j and none of them has
anything of the artist, anything sweetly delicate, or exquisite.
They rather appear hard, and as though they might be cruel.
The common Japanese qualities of quickness, sure vision and
rapid understanding of everything tangible, seem to have a
different connection in their case: what usually tends to make
artists of the Japanese here benefits the spy, the gift of con-
sideration the diplomat, while versatility and pliancy help the
'reorganised; here the tenacity of the race expresses itself in
the form of iron will, and their matter-of-factness makes
practical politicians of such an extreme variety of them as no
Machiavelli has ever produced among us. Thus the problem
as to how the Japan of Laf cadio Hearn was capable of such
great political deeds does not arise at all; this Japan has merely
shared in the transformation. The latter was begun and carried
out by other types of men, to whom far-sighted action is as
natural as the dwarfing of trees is to the market gardener.
Still, the leaders in Japan are not leaders altogether in our
sense, and that is what is Japanese in themj they are not so
much factors as exponents. No matter how great their indi-
vidual importance may be occasionally, their power depends
upon their being representatives. In the case of the emperor,
this relation is obvious: not only in Japan, but everywhere else
in the world where this position is still surrounded by a myth-
ical halo, it is more important that some one is the ruler rather
than who the ruler is; his effect is creative in all circumstances
as the focus of popular belief. The same applies to the states-
men who have made Japan great. In all probability they all
stood and stand as personalities below the level which the
quality of their work lets us suppose; they could achieve it
because they were borne aloft by the people. Where the con-
sciousness of the individual amounts less to self -consciousness
than the consciousness of belonging to a group, there he does
not see something outside himself in his leaders, but real
organs of his own being, and he obeys them as if he were acting
on his own instructions. Thus, the guarantee for the calling of
leadership in Japan depends, for the largest part, on perfec-
tion in the organisation of the people. This means that as
2l8 JAPAN PART VI
long as the organisation is good born leaders will not be-
come extinct. Accordingly they display here a superiority such
as can hardly be found anywhere else; Count Okuma is con-
scious of his influence in the same sense as an emperor is con-
scious of his divine right, and this consciousness as such means
power.
What I have stated here concerning the actual relation be-
tween the leaders and the led in Japan, sounds like a descrip-
tion of the ideal of democracy. Is it not significant that this
has never yet been demonstrated by a democracy, but often by
an aristocratic community? So long as the individual thinks
atomically and this is no doubt the main distinguishing fea-
ture of democracy so long will a perfect organisation of the
community remain impossible. The ideal is certainly capable
of realisation in principle also where personalities have be-
come autonomous. But to do so they must have attained to a
degree of inner culture of which there is not the faintest sign
in present-day democracy.
MY impressions are forming themselves more and more into
one general picture. So much is quite clear to me: the Japa-
nese, or rather, those social layers of them who count politically,
are not Orientals, if the concept of the Oriental is understood
to include simultaneously the essential qualities of the Chinese
and the Indians; the Japanese are nearer to us than they are
to the Chinese, and to this extent they have a divine right to
emulate us. Their similarity to the Chinese depends, for the
most part, on the culture imported from China j according to
their temperament they are, like ourselves, a progressive
people, which, moreover, their history demonstrates unmis-
takably from the beginning up to the present day; they went to
school, as it were, in Korea and China in former days in exactly
the same sense as they emulate us to-day. For this reason,
the Westernisation of Japan cannot be regarded in the same
light as that of India or China. When I sailed through the
inland sea, I was not a little surprised by the impression of
entering into a world entirely new to me, which was divided
CHAP. 53 TOKYO 219
by a profound chasm from that of China; it seemed to me as if
I was breathing the same atmosphere as in the Greek archipel-
ago, the atmosphere of a daring and adventurous seafaring life;
I felt nothing of that cosmic calm, the majestic peace of China,
nothing even of the Japan which Laf cadio Hearn has described.
This Japan, of course, exists. But I may say to-day that my
first general impression was correct: the essential characteristic
of the Japanese people is their enterprising, exploiting quality,
their pliant, practical adaptability, not their J&fonerie.
The 'Japanese is typically not a creator, nor is he an imitator,
as has been asserted generally he is essentially an exploiter
in the sense of the jiu-jitsu fighter: jiu-jitsu is the very symbol
of the Japanese. What are the qualities which are required to
be a master of this art? Not creative initiative, but, on the
other hand, an extraordinary power of observation, an instan-
taneous understanding for the empirical significance of every
ｅxpression, and the ability to draw the greatest possible prac-
tical advantage from it; it requires to the utmost that particular
co-operation of head and hand where all recognition leads
instantly to the most appropriate reaction of movement, in
which all memory expresses itself as automatic action. All
specifically Japanese civilisation depends upon this ability, and
Japanese 'imitation' in particular has this significance. The
Japanese does not really imitate he derives an advantage,
just as the wrestler does from the movements of his opponent;
he does not copy, but he changes his attitude; it is given to
him to enter with incomparable ease into all alien appearance,
so as to understand from within its peculiarity (not its essential
nature!); having thus entered into organic relation with it,
he then exploits it so far as it can be exploited. In this way the
Japanese once exploited the culture of China. Perhaps he
never understood it, but it cannot be asserted either that he
merely imitated it externally he had become absorbed com-
pletely in it's appearance, and then proceeded to live with a
Chinese attitude. All forms contain specific possibilities,
which become realised relatively independently of the fact
whether their temporary bearers understand them, whether
they mean anything to them or not; thus, the Japanese have
220 JAPAN PART VI
developed much that is Chinese in accordance with their very
own spirit. They were never really animated by the Chinese
spirit j they merely wore Chinese garb. Therefore they have
remained almost untouched inwardly. I have pointed to the
fact already, how little the Japanese have become changed
inwardly in spite of all the influences to which they have sub-
mitted themselves: this is due to their temperament, which
has been described above. The Japanese may assimilate more
alien matter than any other man on earth without having to
fear any harm, because he is at bottom unsusceptible of influ-
ence.
THE culture of China is a culture of ｅxpression, the culture
of Japan one of attitude: it is difficult to conceive a more vio-
lent contrast} whereas the one has its root in profundity, the
other exhausts itself on the surface. There is no doubt that
the Japanese is unsubstantial: where attitude is the last prem-
ise, there inner content must be lacking. But it is precisely
on this fact that the importance of Japan is based: it shows
how far one can get without being substantial. one can get
incredibly far. The Japanese have given values to the world
which would never have been realised without them, they
have created a superficial culture more charming than any
other on earth. For this reason it is unjust to tarry longer with
their insufficiencies. Substantiality is not a frequent phenom-
enon anywhere} even among Indians there are Japanese, in
so far as they are to be defined by their negative qualities; but
the unsubstantial non- Japanese do not possess the advantages
of the Japanese. No being is responsible for his natural dis-
position; there are creatures whose minds can give ｅxpression
to supreme being, there are others in whom their attitude is
the ultimate fact. They are all equal before God in so far as
they are perfect after their kind. But we human beings should
learn at last to value every creature according to its own nature,
and only demand from him what he is capable of.
The Japanese may become Westernised without apprehen-
sion: whereas the Indians and Chinese may not do so, be-
CHAP. 53 TOKYO 221
cause, in the case of the Japanese, it is not a question of a
real change, but only of assuming a new attitude as a fighter
does. The problem, however, is not exhausted by this recog-
nition: the Japanese possesses a soul in spite of all his adapt-
ability, and even if his soul seems exposed to less danger than
would be the case with other peoples who submit to alien in-
fluences, his soul is nevertheless not exempt by some special
charm j if the Japanese becomes contaminated at all, then his
case is worse than that of any one else. There are two funda-
mental feelings which must never be infringed if Japan is not
to decay: one is their feeling for nature, the other their specific
patriotism.
I have already given my views concerning both these points}
I only need to summarise what I have said and apply it to my
present purpose. The feeling for nature in the Japanese cor-
responds to the metaphysical feeling for the world of the
Indian, and the consciousness of harmony of the Chinese j it is
the same synthesis en miniature, and has the same profound
reason. If it disappeared from his consciousness he would lose
thereby the connection with his deepest self. Everything by
means of which he might attempt to replace this fundamental
quality would remain a superficial attainment, without direct
connection with his soul. Suppose an Indian tried to change
himself into a Greek: he would undoubtedly become super-
ficial} not because his original tendency to see man as part of
nature is objectively more profound, compared with the Greek
view, to whom she remains something external and pictorial,
but because he would not be capable of relating the Greek out-
look on the world to what is prof oundest in himself. In the
case of the Japanese the same typical danger is considerably
greater, because his field of vision is much more limited, be-
cause incomparably fewer phenomena are capable of a rela-
tionship with his soul. Thus, naturalism would not only
lower Japanese art, as in our case, but it would literally kill it;
and in the same way, lack of politeness makes the Japanese
not merely unpleasant, as it does every one else, but superficial.
If Japan does not cherish its feeling for nature proportionately
more as it emulates us more intensively in other directions, it
222 JAPAN PART VI
may happen that one day its organism will be without a soul.
The other feeling which Japan must not lose at any price is its
patriotism5 that peculiar synthesis of feeling which has died
out in Europe, and is only revived for short periods during
wars, I mean the synthesis of the individual, the group, the
country and the ruling family. The Japanese are not yet in-
dividuals in our sense; their centre still lies in the group j
for this reason Westernisation will suit them only as long
as the new organisation can be related to the old basis.
Whereas progress in our case was a result of individualisation,
in Japan it is until to-day an ｅxpression, amongst other things,
of the non-individualised group-consciousness, and it might
lead to stagnation or decomposition if the individual did be-
come conscious of himself in the Western sense. The latter
is already beginningj and it is beginning too soon. The
younger generation gives its leaders much food for anxious
thought, for it is betraying a questionable inclination to deny
their old basis. If this process cannot be stopped or restricted,
then the admirable structure of Mutsuhito and his ministers
may. collapse. It must therefore be arrested at ^ any price.
This is what Nogi meant when he disembowelled himself he
hoped that his action might cause the inherited Samurai-feeling
to flame up again in the younger generation j this is what the
Government is doing in trying to bring about, by all the means
in its power, a renaissance of Shinto. Let us hope that they
will be successful; I am concerned for the future of Japan.
The more inevitably it appears that the old basis will collapse,
the more must every possible effort be made to establish new
living relations between the body and the soul, so that a new
structure will at any rate have been started when the old house
crumbles into dust. , . .
Yes, Japan may become Westernised. But after I have been
strictly objective for such a long time, I feel impelled to give
vent to my personal feelings, and I must then say: personally,
I regret deeply that this country is Westernising itself; mod-
ernised Japan is entirely devoid of charm; the atmosphere of
Tokyo in particular is oppressively trivial. Normal develop-
ment unfortunately does not necessarily lead upward. Just as
CHAP. 53 TOKYO 223
some individuals are themselves in the best sense when children,
others when grown-ups, and again others when octogenarians,
there is a stage of development for every people which is best
suited to them; if it grows beyond this stage, even in the most
desirable direction, it loses its charm, importance and value. In
this sense, Frenchmen have declined since the eighteenth
century, although there cannot be any question of degenera-
tion even to-day; in the same way, England, whose height was
attained in the nineteenth century, will ^ lose henceforth in
cultural significance. Every specific condition gives the soul
definite means of ｅxpression, of which only a few correspond
to it in that sense, as specific ability corresponds to a specific
spirit. The moment or the epoch in which inner temperament
and opportunities correspond to each other, signifies the zenith
of a nation; it is then that the national genius manifests itself.
Later on, the nation resembles more or less a Raphael without
hands. 1
The Japanese show surprising attainments in their new-
course. As far as their achievements are concerned, there is
no reason to suppose that one day they may not rival us. But
these achievements signify nothing. Here they work with
intellect alone, or, put more generally, with the tools of their
soul, their inner being is left out of account; and I cannot
imagine that time will bring any real improvement. The Jap-
anese soul will never learn to express itself directly or com-
pletely in the language of Occidental ability; at best it will
stutter in this language, and it is not impossible that it will
become dumb; the most exquisite and most artistic type of
man may yet become dry-as-dust. Judged from the point of
view of his substance, the Japanese is wrong to pursue prob-
lems which are all too serious: he realises himself best in playj
everything really original lies along the line of ayoi>, sport, of
cheerful artistry. Here the profundities of his soul are re-
vealed. But where he strives after important things in the
worldly sense, he appears abstract.
+
*I have developed this trend of thought at length in the chapter 'The sym-
bolism of history" in my book Schoepferische Erkenntniss.
224 JAPAN PART VI
SOME of the leading spirits of Japanese Buddhism are staying
in Tokyo. I have taken the opportunity of correcting and
enlarging the views which I have gained from conversation
and the reading of holy writings, and I will now attempt to
give a summarising judgment concerning Japanese Buddhism.
The more detailed my study of Mahayana doctrine has be-
come, the more I am impressed by its philosophical value. I
know nothing which could be adduced against the meaning of
its fundamental ideas, no matter how much may be wrong and
superannuated in their individual manifestations, and the
development of Japanese Buddhism converges to such an ex-
tent with what are becoming the Christian world conceptions,
that one might almost say that it signifies the line of indiffer-
ence between the Eastern and the Western spirit. The
philosophy of Acvagosha is, to old Indian philosophy, about
what that of Hegel is to that of Parmenides, or that of Berg-
son to the philosophy of Spinoza. That is to say, living dy-
namism has replaced abstract statism, and this involves an abso-
lute advance in recognition. The old Indians meant per-
haps the same as the founders of the Mahayana doctrine,
but they did not know how to express themselves adequately;
with their minds bent upon the ultimate significance of events
and things, they disregarded matter and thus arrived at a theory
of eternal being which was said to exist in opposition to the flow
of appearances. Acvagosha then achieved the same method-
ological act which was later performed by Hegel and Bergson,
and which has stamped them on their own historical level as
pioneers: it re-established the connection between Being and
Becoming, which had been destroyed by preliminary thought.
Acvagosha recognised that Being and Becoming are only differ-
ent aspects of one and the same absolute reality; that, there-
fore, metaphysical Being and 'Becoming and Decaying' syn-
chronise, and that duration of time is, in this connection, an
absolute reality. Thus, he arrived at the same critical result to
which a similar fundamental recognition has led Bergson in our
day: that metaphysical significance is not to be sought for
outside the process of concrete 'Becoming.' So far, Bergson has
not gone further than this; he has not yet touched upon the
CHAP. 53 TOKYO 225
world of ethical commandments. But if he does so one day,
then he will no doubt make the same assertion as Acvagosha
1,700 years ago: that since metaphysical significance is not to
be sought outside concrete 'Becoming,' all ideal postulates must
also be capable of realisation within it. Bergson would not
teach anything new in saying so, since this view is the guiding
motif of all Christian philosophies. When Acvagosha, how-
ever, taught the same, he performed a regular volte-face:
compared with the old Indian philosophy, no matter how
logical the development was which led him to this point, the
inner attitude implying negation of the world changed into one
of affirmation. If the highest ideal is to be realised within the
world of 'Becoming' no matter at what higher level, that of
the Arhat, the Bodhisattva, the Buddha then the very reason
for existence has been taken away from the ideals of the Yogi,
which are all based upon the desire to get- beyond appearance;
then the colour of the Samsara no longer appears dark, for then
history has been given back its meaning, or rather, a new and
higher meaning has been imparted to it. According to the old
Indian philosophy, there was no meaning whatever in history,
since they accepted progress as existent only in the sense of
becoming free from appearance, and did not classify empirical
conditions as such; but the problems of history did arise for
the believer in Mahayana doctrine. Thus, an evolution set in
which was parallel down to details with that of Christianity.
Northern Buddhism conquered the world irresistibly; it re-
garded it as its mission to convert humanity, whereas Southern
Buddhism, like Hinduism, never assumed such a duty. Ac-
cordingly it suited its methods of teaching to the given circum-
stances, and the spirit of knowledge of men and of politics was
wedded to that of religiosity. This in its turn inevitably led to
organised professions of faith, and further to the formation
of sects y and the more the pragmatic attitude predominated
over the desire for pure recognition, the more did its dogma
resemble that of Christianity. The teachings of Christianity
and most sects of higher Buddhism are so similar that the
leading missionaries incline to the view that this higher Bud-
dhism really was Christianity; a further development of the
226 JAPAN PART VI
teachings of Jesus Christ, not of Gautama Buddha. _ Up to a
certain point this may be correct. But the surprising con-
vergence within the development of their dogmas might very
well have come about without any direct historical inter-
dependence: the spirit of Mahayana and that of Christianity
were closely related; thus, similar circumstances necessarily pro-
duced similar manifestations. Still, there can be no question
of the identity of both religions, because the confessional mani-
festation in the case of Buddhism does not signify anything
ultimate; to Buddhism, which in this respect has remained com-
pletely Indian, it is a temporary and surmountable phenom-
enon. If one must insist on its Christian character, one may
say: Mahayana teaching is the kind of Christianity which
would have developed among Indian sages. Philosophically,
it towers high above the faith of the Westerners; but in efficacy
it cannot stand the comparison. It is too all-embracing in its
significance to appear single and act accordingly. The Church,
in particular, in Japan, is most unsubstantial; it is art rather
than life, a fair form rather than deep significance. But Indian
doctrine is innocent of this Church; it is solely the work of
Japan.
Of all traditional religions, Mahayana-Buddhism most
closely resembles in idea the teaching which the God-seekers
of our day are anticipating as the religion of the future; it is
essentially without dogma, has a profound understanding of
the value of cults, excludes no form of recognition, has some-
thing to offer to every temperament; it is wide and profound,
like Brahmanism, and also cognisant of the world and ener-
getic, like Christianity. But just because it embodies an ideal
for the future, it is only appropriate to the present state of
affairs to a limited degree; I recognise this fact all the more
clearly, the more I speak with the representatives of this faith.
Its form is too wide, too loose, to be a formative factor for the
average man; it does not act as an appropriate vessel for limited
spirituality, especially one which is so little intellectual as that
of the Japanese. I do not believe that any Japanese, either of
to-day or of the past, ever did justice to the philosophical con-
tent of Mahayana doctrine. They once upon a time imported
CHAP. 53 TOKYO 227
it, just as they have introduced our technology to-day; they
have always discovered, quickly and surely, the best in every
department and turned it to their own advantage whenever
possible. But man can only assimilate what is appropriate to
his temperament, and this was never the case with Indian
mysticism in relation to the Japanese j only the emotional and
practical elements of the Mahayana religion have become vital
forces in Japan. All specifically Japanese sects of Buddhism
are essentially unphilosophic, and those of the prelates of
to-day who concern themselves with its speculative elements
do so only as scholars j what is vital in it is beyond their under-
standing.
For the rest, the Japanese are not essentially more irreligious
than we are, whom they resemble much more closely than they
do the Chinese or the Indians. Their cultured classes do not
as a rule believe in any definite religion, like most Europeans
of to-day. And here as well as there, the simple people are
blind believers j both develop, in contradistinction to the
Indians, into agnostics as soon as their thought becomes eman-
cipated, because they cannot as yet embark upon the road to
God through recognition, and the process of thought distracts
when it begins from the directness of experience; just like the
Japanese, our religious leaders belong, almost without excep-
tion, to the emotional and practical types, and as far as thought
and recognition are concerned, they have been mediocrities.
only that which is typical of both worlds appears in a more
extreme form in Japan. Perhaps only once, in the figure of St.
Francis of Assisi, has the Bhakta experienced a perfect embodi-
ment among us; among the Japanese this has happened on
countless occasions; their delicate and feminine sensibility
offered love a unique possibility of materialisation. And our
religious leaders have only rarely been so extremely practical as
many have been in Japan. I had the good fortune to-day to
make the acquaintance of the most important representative
of the latter kind, the Abbot Soyen Shaku of Kamakura, the
head of one of the branches of the Zen-sect. 1 The Zen-sect is
1 See his Sermons of a Buddhist Abbot, translated by Super Ki, Chicago,
1906, The Open Court Publishing Company.
228 JAPAN PART VI
the most philosophical of higher Buddhism} it teaches direct
absorption in God, independent of book knowledge and cults }
its theory is almost identical with that of Shankara, and its
practice is real Yoga practice. This teaching, introduced ^ in
China by Bodhidharma, was originally the most purely Indian
of all. But just because it teaches inwardness and nothing else,
it has produced profoundly different results among nations of
different temperaments, just as Yoga always increases the
existing peculiarities. Its Indian disciples were made more
profound in recognition. In China it led to a unique revival
of feeling for nature; the greatest masters of landscape paint-
ing were all adepts in Zen. In Japan it became the central
school for heroism. The Japanese, to whom philosophy means
little, recognised at an early stage that nothing heightens _and
strengthens the powers of the soul more than such training;
and therefore just the warriors, the Samurais, showed a pref-
erence for education by the Zen monks. Hoj5 Tokimune, the
hero who made the Mongol hordes of Kubla-Khan retreat,
used to spend hours in meditation. Even to-day the same is
true: several of the leading men of modern Japan have been
disciples of Soyen Shaku. I visited him in his temple at Kama-
kura. I have never yet had such an impression of inwardness,
coupled with equal martial energy; this delicately built monk
is thoroughly military in appearance. How he must have
inspired the troops whom he accompanied through Man-
churia! The method by which he teaches meditation is hard.
The pupils sit in a large, empty room in the attitude of
Buddha; the abbot walks up and down between them, stick in
hand, and if some one goes to sleep he kicks him; if any one
gets tired he is not allowed to rest before the lesson is at an end,
but only to go the round a few times in silence with his hands
folded and held up above his head. Afterwards the teacher
holds a merciless cross-examination to discover whether the
pupils have mastered their subject. I discussed the significance
of these practices with the venerable abbot. He is a philos-
opher who understands the spiritual meaning of the Zen doc-
trine to the full. But his outlook is that of the man of practical
life. He did not regard it as the aim to tarry in the realm of
CHAP. S3 TOKYO 229
revelation, but the object was to steel the forces in striving after
it to such a degree that they were a match for all the ideal prob-
lems of this life. How 'Western' is the spirit which spoke
through him! I am thinking of American New Thought:
this doctrine does not regard Christianity very differently from
the way in which Soyen Shaku regards the doctrine of Sakya-
munis. And then, with a smile, I think of the relativity of
the value of all conceptual manifestations. . . .
+
YESTERDAY, the last day but one before I leave Japanese soil,
I delivered a lecture to the professors and students of the
Faculty of Philosophy on my experience in Indian Yoga, and
on the vital significance of this art. The problems seemed
strange to my listeners; apparently it had never occurred to
them hitherto to study the ancient wisdom, not only by text-
criticism from the outside, but from within. What one of
these gentlemen said to me in reply was most noteworthy.
They (the Japanese) were so accustomed to the fundamental
Buddhist ideas that they involuntarily failed to notice them. In
point of fact the same thing happens to many of us in regard to
Christianity, and this is undoubtedly an important cause of
the interest which Europe has lately betrayed in the religions
of the East. Europe has become tired of Christianity, which is
bound to happen sooner or later to everything with which we
are familiar, and to the profundity of which we can no longer
do justice. only the unfamiliar stimulates us; it causes more
vital vibrations, even if there is no doubt that the new and the
familiar subjects mean the same, and this stimulating effect
continues even if one proceeds at once (which happens fre-
quently) to interpret habitual concepts as unfamiliar ^ones.
Thus, the Japanese scholars find more stimulus in Christianity
than in Buddhism, and overestimate it accordingly^ whereas
we to-day tend to the opposite mistake. But does this imply an
objection against interest in alien things? Certainly not; least
of all in the case of religion. Here it is a question of realisa-
tion, and realisation only, and if an alien form does better
service than the inherited one, it is a matter of course that
230 JAPAN PART vi
we must accept it. Generally this acceptance only implies a
bypath to the old form, as may be seen already to-day in the
West, where the enthusiasm for India ultimately comes to
benefit Christianity (not one of the latter most recent and most
profound interpretations would have been possible without
unconscious influence by the spirit of Indian philosophy). For
the rest, this phenomenon proves once more the blessedness of
non-uniformity. Man needs alien elements, which he may
overvalue, not to get weary of his own peculiarity, to main-
tain it alive and to prevent it from becoming rigid, and this
interchange is the very condition of the harmony of the whole.
Could poets flourish if they did not look up to heroes? Or
statesmen if they did not overestimate the poets? Would the
Germans be what they are, the most universally cultured nation,
without their much-blamed national defect of preferring for-
eign values to their own? Just he who is most concerned with
co-operation has least cause to support the foolish ideal of
uniformity, for a living harmony is possible only owing to the
interaction of thesis and antithesis.
But to return to my lecture: it was objected at its conclusion
that what I had learnt from the Brahmins I might also have
found in the Christian mystics. In this respect my listeners
were mistaken. No matter how true it may be in general that
alien phenomena as such are stimulating, no matter how often
it may happen that there is no prof ounder motive at the bottom
of our preference for India, Christian Yoga has not the same
significance for us moderns as Indian Yoga has; and this
because the former is operative exclusively in the sphere of
subjective emotion, and because no recognition can be derived
through feeling, 1 The man who longs fervently for the
Mother of God may perhaps one day catch a glimpse of her,
but we will never be able to ascertain whether his vision corre-
sponded to an objective reality. What is so wonderful in In-
dian Yoga is the perfect rationality of its methods. We do,
of course, not know whether it leads with certainty to the goal
1 1 have explained the true relation of thought and feeling from the point
of view of progress in the chapter 'Antikes und Modernes Weisentum* in
Schoepferische Erkenntniss.
CHAP. 53 TOKYO 231
it is supposed to lead to, and whether the phenomena with
which it is connected have been recognised and interpreted
correctly} but in principle the possibility exists of testing the
exactitude of its assertions along with its theories. And this
assures the greater value to the Indian doctrine of self -culture
compared with the corresponding Christian doctrines. Modern
humanity is intellectualised to such an extent that only that
which has been understood can hope to take hold of its inmost
soul. The Indians alone have understood what was the uni-
form experience of all profound men.
We Europeans are beginning to recognise this more and
more. Will the peoples of the East, in so far as they become
unfaithful to their inheritance, do the same? Perhaps not;
for apparently the mere need for change, which lies at the
bottom of our Indomania and the Japanese Christomania de-
pends for its own part on something deeper: the law according
to which a certain manifestation can never serve the same
people twice as a vessel of the highest ideal. Greek art is,
even to-day, a spiritual leaven for the world, but it is not the
Greeks who continue to foster it 3 the same applies to the world
of forms of the Renaissance, of Byzantine and Buddhist art,
and the same applies to forms of thought and belief. Here
too the once-and-for-all principle applies which governs all
lifej every definite being, as such, must die, and its immortal
part continues to exist only in perpetual new incarnations. So
much at any rate is certain, that our orientalisation and the
westernisation of the East, which are developing in the widest
sense at present, mean something much more profound than
has hitherto been recognised: they imply that renewal of the
means of ｅxpression which alone makes rejuvenation possible.
The mere fact that there is a general demand for rejuvenation
proves that the world is really becoming new again j a period
which merely continues or concludes does not know any struggle
for renewal. Neither Buddhists nor Christians in their his-
torical forms represent final stages. What has never existed
as yet longs to be created and seeks with passionate zeal for
suitable parents, like the soul returning to life upon earth.
Apparently we stand on the threshold of a period similar to
232 JAPAN PART VI
that which marked the first century after Christ. At that
period too there was a general change, even then East and
West joined hands, and the result will be to-day, as it was
then, an enlargement of the basis of life. For, no matter
how exclusive the manifestations were which originated from
this fusion Christianity as well as Buddhism is what it is
only as the heir of everything which preceded it. 1
However, the various life-forces in themselves will remain
different for everj the living principles of East and West
are not exchangeable or transferable 5 if we assimilate the
knowledge of the East, this does not mean that we are acquiring
its soul, but that we create new organs for our own, and the
same applies, mutatis mutandis y to the East. 2 If we consider
the problem of influence in regard to its significance to a given
soul, such as takes place during critical periods, the following
is the case: far from implying an alteration of being, the
acceptance of alien phenomena represents rather at certain
times the shortest path to self-realisation. We would never
have become 'Westerners/ if the Germanic people had not
once taken over the Syrian faith 5 and we will only perfect
ourselves at our level after fertilisation and rejuvenation
through the Indo-Chinese spirit. Let us hope that the situation
in Japan is similar. The regeneration which foreign influence
exercises in the long run is inevitably introduced by a period
of apparent decay; thus it will probably take a little while be-
fore the Japanese will be able to work independently with
our means: to-day they seem even more mechanical than we
do. ^ We too are still slaves of our tools of recognition. The
specifically European Yoga (the observation of the outer
world) has led to the creation of an enormous apparatus, the
control of which requires an equivalent inwardness. And we
lack this just because our aspirations have been directed to ex-
ternal things; we too are the serfs of the spirit which we
* My book Schoepferische Erkenntniss traces the outlines of the new world
which is m the making; it shows, moreover, in what sense history is iust
beginning. *
m a 2 Se - 6 f SL CtI ? fir ? t I^^TT? En lish in China, now reprinted in Ger-
mwm PMosophie als Kunst, 'Uber die inneren Beziehungen zwischen den
Kultur Problemen des Orients und Okzidents.'
CHAP. 53 TOKYO 233
created, like the Zauberlehrling of Goethe. The fact that our
failings are even more obvious in the case of the Japanese is
only natural. Sooner or later, and probably sooner than we
think, they too will, in their way, work their way up from
slaves to masters.
For us, however, it is precisely the insufficiency of the Japa-
nese in our sense which interests us; it is perhaps more signifi-
cant for humanity in general than their greatest triumph could
be: it illustrates with incomparable distinctness the main and
fundamental weaknesses of that civilisation which is con-
quering the world to-day. In fact, the enthusiasts of progress
are aiming at precisely that which has robbed the modern
Japanese of his value as a human being. What they wish to
overcome is not their crudeness but their humanity, the in-
herited belief that no earthly gain can compensate for the hurt
of the soul 5 what they strive after is existence, purely instru-
mental in character, which the Westernised Far Eastern Asiatic
embodies. He stands there to-day without any cultural inhibi-
tiofisj he sees in himself only a means of becoming powerful
and rich, and believes in success pure and simple. And he is
absolutely right in so far as any justification can be admitted
for his 'philosophy,' for he has had the most successful career
of all people who have ever lived. Thanks to the absolute
surrender to what is purely external, he has achieved in some
thirty years what Europe, teeming with ideals, has taken cen-
turies to accomplish: it is therefore in the nature of this civilisa-
tion to favour soullessness.
PART SEVEN: TO THE NEW WORLD
54
on THE PACIFIC
Q LOWLY the ship glides out into that ocean over which man
i5 has no more dominion than the dolphin. How blissful
to be able to forget the peculiarity of one's position! How
very much it enlarges the basis of experience! I have
never spent any length of time in centres of civilisation without
being ultimately overcome by a feeling of aversion: not against
culture as opposed to nature, but against the human element.
There are certainly all sorts of things to be said for man, but
why tarry there? What do the advantages of one animal
species signify in relation to a world? People like to laugh at
the scientist whose interest in life centres exclusively in antsj I
regard the one-sided investigator of civilisation as equally
ridiculous. Since we are human, we have, for good or ill, to
fulfil our human destinies: to produce children, to breed cattle,
to rule states, to write books, as the case may bej in exactly
the same sense as one would have had to gather pine needles
if one had been born into the world an ant. But to extend
one's free interest in humanity over and above this that is
too much.
The continuous conceit, especially of white men, prompts
me, by way of reaction, to incline to estimate him below his
value. Asiatics do not overestimate themselves anything like
as much as we doj accordingly in India I felt no kind of aver-
sion to human beings. But in India man has hardly impressed
his specific nature upon appearance} there, men stand out
against the rest of creation hardly differently from the way in
which one species of animals stands out against another. In
Japan their peculiarity dominates j nothing like as unpleasantly
aggressive as in our case, but it happens for all that. For this
reason I am delighted, although I have learned to love Japan,
that the hour of departure has come.
The heights are already beginning to sink below the horizon.
The sea-mews which accompany us are turning back. Within
237
238 THE NEW WORLD PART vii
a further brief hour, the last memory of the mainland will
have disappeared.
+
THIS is the ocean. For days no steamer, no sailing ship; nor
shall we meet one for days to come, I spend most of my
time in the bows, in order to separate myself as much as
possible from my human surroundings. Again and again I
imagine where I am, what the ocean means j how here, ^ only
here, life has continued uninterruptedly from Silurian times.
And the magic of immeasurability seizes hold of me more
and more.
I feel very, very happy. That is because I am completely
lonely, and nothing prevents me from denying all boundaries
and barriers. How can one feel isolated as long as one is
alone? The consciousness of isolation is the result precisely
of being together with others. only where one is in the com-
pany of others is one arrested and mercilessly tied down by
one's limitations. As soon as one is alone, all isolation dis-
appears. Then consciousness escapes one's personality. Then
no tendency returns back into itself. Then one becomes wide
as the world.
And if I drifted upon a rudderless float instead of being on
a well-navigated steamer, would I not feel differently?
Hardly, as long as the body did not speak too loudly and
impose its needs upon the soul. For what difference exists,
regarded from the angle of the spirit, between the ocean and
that ego upon which I have drifted the whole of my life?
Men like to compare their life with a ship, which is steered
by the ego and glides along upon the stream of events: I
cannot regard this picture as correct. My ego is ocean enough
already} my ego is the sea in the sense of the usual comparison j
it depends upon the course which I steer upon it what form
my visible life takes on. Originally I am not master of my
thoughts and feelings: they come and go according to some
obscure natural law. My will is an impersonal power, so is
my intellect; and my consciousness is a wide domain whose
boundaries I do not know and can hardly guess at. I really
CHAP.54 THE PACIFIC 239
feel within myself as I do upon the sea. I must steer ^per-
petually between my instincts, the aim in sight, otherwise^!
might suffer shipwreck. My person is the outer world in
reference to my inmost self j I am not my person, I only move
within it. And if inwardly I have taken a step forward, this
means that I have advanced upon the sea; the previous posi-
tion stands there in memory. Man travels through his body;
the material changes, only the direction remains. Just so he
wanders through his soul. The more he assimilates experi-
ences, the more he finds out, the better does he know himself.
The man who has reached the goal is he who knows the domain
of his soul and controls it as the Viking does the sea.
Yesterday I watched some very curious flying fishes which
flew up in surprise from the track of our steamer. My soul
also produces similar phenomena. In my consciousness top,
ideas occasionally spring up, which are probably at home in
my subconscious, but which come as a surprise to me; and in
me too there live creatures which resemble rays and sharks.
I know it well enough: the dangerous elements which used
to take hold of me so often in former days, but now hardly
show themselves at all unless I relax in my dreams they have
not died; I simply do not meet with them any more. Every
demon whom I have thought dead would fall upon me with
undiminished power in a second if I stepped upon him un-
warily. Of course, if I know where I am going, then I need
not be in fear of the demons. In themselves they are well
worth seeing. one must only know them, then one may even
play with them.
It is not without satisfaction that I recall the mistakes which
I have committed in the course of my life: if I had not com-
mitted them then, I would undoubtedly be a worse man
to-day. Nor can I really regret, in my heart of hearts, that
others were caused pain in the process. A certain amount of
guilt is predestined from the start to every one who strives
earnestly after perfection; this he ought to take upon himself
from the beginning. In so doing he does, judged metaphys-
ically, precisely what Jesus wanted to achieve historically
240 THE NEW WORLD PART vii
when He took the sins of the whole of mankind upon His
shoulders.
IN truth, who am I? The older problems come up again;
only this time they appear less clear than usual, just as if
the vibrations of the mind were softened by the waves of the
sea. Regarded from the angle of phenomena, I am the mental
image which controls me at the time. In the metaphysical
sense I, Hermann Keyserling, probably do not exist at all.
There is nothing concrete in me which was not created and
does not pass away in me, nothing from which there is no
escape or change, nothing with which I could identify the
eternal element in me. All and every appearance is ^nature/
beginning with character down to the mood of the moment;
what I regard as 'myselP is the passage of my mental images,
as they are presented at a given moment. These mental
images are sometimes of an inner, sometimes of an external
origin, and which of them become the bearers of my lasting
ego-consciousness depends, not upon their origin, but upon
the intensity with which I embody them; the embodiment is
the decisive factor. If this be true, then, judged from the
Atman point of view, there is no difference between the origi-
nality of the genius and the obedience of a child. However,
no embodiment is permanent; the only thing constant is the
direction which the series of incarnations perseveres in. This
direction alone then would be of purely inner origin, could
possibly be regarded as 'self '; or else this self would be that
which determines a change in a certain direction. But this
view does not exhaust the difficulties of understanding the
problem. Suppose I were the direction, or the directing factor:
this self js^ then, at any rate, nothing personal; no matter
whether, if it is ultimately an aspect of the all-embracing one
or an independent monad all discussion concerning this point
is futile it is not that which any one could regard as his
ego. This is where the difficulties of the idea of immortality
begin. ^ The problem of continuation is, of course, a phenom-
enological, not a metaphysical problem, but it is precisely
CHAP. 34 THE PACIFIC 241
as such that it mocks all tangible solution, because that which
is felt to be the personal ego is the point of intersection of an
infinite number of tendencies, of which the ego is but one, and
precisely those among them which seem to be particularly
personal, such as opinions, feelings, thoughts, determination
by the will, demonstrably do not lead to infinity. The ques-
tion would be most simple if I could regard myself as my
problem or my ideal or my path j in that case I would literally
continue to exist in the progressive effect of my ideas j in this
case the immortality of Jesus, for instance, would coincide
with the development of Christianity. To-day this attitude
is more plausible to me than any other. I have served from
my earliest childhood an ideal which, although I did not
recognise it consciously at the beginning, nevertheless gave the
direction to my life even then 5 from the very start I have had
an intimate consciousness of what I should do (which some-
times appeared in the form of what I might or might not do),
and this consciousness is so dominant that, even to-day, al-
though I am determined enough and lack all inclination to
self-sacrifice, I would surrender my person without question
if I met a man as whose servant or tool I believed I could
fulfil my mission better. My mission would thus be my real
egoj I would continue to exist after my death as the effect
produced by the solution of my problem. In case I do not
fulfil my task altogether, and consequently fail to exhaust
myself in my effects, it is conceivable that another possibility
of future life might appear: my personal consciousness would
coincide for a second time with the same problem. It can
never be proved that such reincarnation does not exist, because
the next individual who attempts the same problem will be
conscious again as *ego,' and therefore the form and the
essential content of consciousness would be identical in both
cases but it is, of course, equally impossible to prove that
such reimbodiments take place actually. Certainly, as I have
said, no view commends itself more to me to-day than that an
objectively real idea passes through various incarnations j that
man is exactly as immortal as his ideal and exactly as real
as the energy with which he serves it} I cannot believe that
242 THE NEW WORLD PART vn
continued existence is inevitable. Most people are really dead
after death} that is to say, they cease to be the bearers of con-
sciousness, no matter whether they continue to exist objectively}
there are only a few who continue beyond a limited historical
period. If, however, a man arises who knows how to incarnate
a fundamental world-idea in his person, as Buddha and Christ
succeeded in doing, then he goes on living through all eternity.
These are 'indoid* thoughts. Nothing is more characteristic
for a philosophy than the kind of physical background which
it demands, evoikes or is able to support. Here upon the ocean
I wanted to begin with the reading of the Bible in order, by
this means, to swing back mentally to the West; however, this
plan did not and will not materialise so long as the ocean is
present. Compared with this expanse, the concentration which
consciousness has experienced in Christianity appears as a limi-
tation, to which the whole surroundings give the lie. I have
said it already and I repeat it here, that, from^the point of
view of the active and creative man, Christianity is prof ounder
than Buddhism because its doctrine makes the man of action
more profound} God can also be found by striving to bring
appearance to the utmost perfection} in fact, for every non-
contemplative individual this is the shortest road to God.
The man who is intent upon achievements must think some-
thing of himself, he must in fact overestimate himself, as his
energy would otherwise become lame. For this reason it can
hardly be avoided that the Karma Yogis overvalue and mis-
understand themselves as individuals. . . . But the mood of
the man of action cannot endure upon the ocean; there, con-
sciousness denying all personal will involuntarily finds its centre
in the universe like the drop in the ocean, not in the sense
that it rises above all appearance, but that it may only con-
template the very vastest phenomenal complexes. Thus,
Buddhist trains of thought arise inevitably on the Southern sea:
for no one has understood the correlation of appearances
more profoundly, or presented them more impressively, than
the Tathagata.
CHAP. 54 THE PACIFIC 243
I AM never tired of watching the flight of the albatross,
seven of which are already accompanying us. At times they
remain behind us for hours, probably in order to search hunt-
ing-grounds at some distance, or to slumber a little upon the
way. Then suddenly they are there again, as if the steamer
had not advanced at all in the meantime. And how they sail!
This gliding flight seems to me to be perfection itself. once
they are in motion, they never make a steering movement: the
mere alteration of the angle which their wings form with the
surface of the sea, the rhythmic rising and falling, the clever
exploitation of the streams of the air suffice them to produce
with the least expenditure of power a speed which seems to be
unaffected by time. It is marvellous to watch how these living
sailing ships cruise; they are most beautiful perhaps when,
wishing to describe a sharp turn, they throw themselves over
on one side and dip one wing deep into the water, in order to
find more resistance.
These birds of the high seas belong to the most wonderful
creations in nature. They are beings who, without being water
animals, do not need the mainland; they rest upon the way,
they are borne aloft by the wind; to them the monotonous
expanse of the ocean is a domain to be surveyed as easily as
the townsman surveys the district in which he dwells. Un-
doubtedly they are supplied with senses of which we have no
conception. They somehow have a 'priori knowledge of the
fundamental facts of geography; they are masters of meteor-
ology, they feel directly the distance at which they are from
the mainland. And yet, from our point of view, they are
dull. Without a sextant, without intellect, without any of the
tools which are at the disposal of civilised man, and presumably
without a clear consciousness, the albatross nevertheless knows
its way about the sea better than the most experienced captain.
It would be well if mankind were a little more reticent in
its disdain of the capacities of animals. There are many ways
of entering into relation with the world, and our way is not the
best in all directions. Every being is harnessed in the univer-
sal cohesion, and possesses in general outline the qualities
which he needs for purposes of self-preservation. Where his
244 THE NEW WORLD PART vn
position is a very unfavourable one, there he requires the most
remarkable capacities. The amoeba is in many ways more
gifted than we are, the worm, constantly threatened by dis-
section, regenerates himself like an Indian god; man is prob-
ably capable of all sorts of things which awake the envy of the
gods. Absolute, uncompensated advantages cannot be proved
to exist in this universe. Thus, one may revere an ideal in
the albatross which is more unattainable to man than the condi-
tion of divinity.
55
HONOLULU
THE aquarium of Honolulu is quite rightly regarded as
one of the wonders of this world. There are fishes there
glistening like jewels, with contours as strange as the grotesque
drawings of Japanese artists, as gaily coloured as butterflies
and humming-birds. In this water there lives all the shimmer-
ing gorgeousness which usually only peoples the air.
I am trying to penetrate the meaning of this manifestation.
Biologically, it is not a question of a special problem, because
the colours are not really extravagant 5 they often contribute
to the protection of the animals. The dark blue fishes with
the velvet sheen and bird-like beaks must be invisible in the
depth, and the same is probably true of the yellow ones; the
gaily coloured fishes, however, which strike the eye almost
painfully in the bare glass containers, undoubtedly lose their
startling appearance against the background of a coral reef.
They move, moreover, with the utmost skill. The most re-
markable specimen of the collection is a moon-shaped, two-
dimensional fish, with black and yellow stripes, whose back
fin is elongated into a flag. This flag is so disproportionately
long that its owner can only move with difficulty, for its ex-
tremity is at the mercy of every current. This cunning crea-
ture, however, only lives in archways of rocks, and then moves
in such a way that the play of colours of his tail glisten and
glimmer and the flag acts as the arm of an octopus, which
CHAPES HONOLULU 245
every robber cautiously avoids. So much is obvious. How-
ever, the problem of life is not solved by pointing to the ap-
propriateness of its organs. The colours of Hawaiian fishes
are not the most appropriate of all those which are conceivable,
but that is what they would have to be if their suitability were
to explain everything. These colours do not connote a neces-
sity either, for protective colours could have been achieved
with less expenditure of effort} in fact, less colouring would
undoubtedly have been of greater advantage, for all these
decked-out creatures which do not remain in a fixed place, but
change their background frequently, are hardly less visible
and endangered in the waters of the Pacific than the chaffinch
is in the northern snow landscape. The quality of appropriate-
ness only defines the lower limit} that is to say, no organism
is so equipped that it could not exist and propagate itself.
But if the life of some among them is no easier than that of
the most exploited human serf, others occupy an incomparably
more advantageous position. I can only explain the gorgeous-
ness of colour of the fauna of the Pacific by the fact that
Nature delights, no less than man, in fantastic feats. As I
watch the effect of these animals upon me, I feel something
like the same spirit which animated men like Gauguin and
Robert Louis Stevenson. For 'spirit 7 is effective in everything
that lives} in the case of plants and animals it still possesses,
in the physical sphere, those qualities of freedom and invention
which are confined almost completely to the psychic sphere in
the case of human beings. Thus, those miracles of organisa-
tion come to be created, compared with which the human body
seems so unsatisfying, thus the perfect adaptability of animals
to their surroundings, their mutability and power of regenera-
tion, are explained} these manifestations mean, in the physical
sphere, precisely what invention and artistic creation mean in
the psychic sphere. And just as man creates sometimes what
is purely practical, sometimes, again, what is practical and
simultaneously pleasing, and sometimes what is pleasing as a
purpose in itself, just so Nature also oscillates between the
poles of utility and beauty, and does not deny herself the
luxury, where the general circumstances permit it, of giving
246 THE NEW WORLD PART vn
rein to her fancy. But how much more certain are her in-
stincts! No matter how fantastic her ideas may be, she never
creates anything which is untrue in itself, incapable of life or
nonsensical. There is nothing futuristic about her} nor does
she ever indulge in the bad habit of so many artists who are
contented with a sketch. Some fishes do make one think that
they may owe their origin to the whim of a moment rather than
to a deep-rooted idea, that they are, so to speak, occasional
poems; and that is probably what they are in so far as their
possibility of significant existence seems tied to a particular
condition, as the yellow-black flag fish seems confined to narrow
slits of rock. But as ｅxpressions they are equally perfect} in
no case has the execution failed.
once more my observations lead me to an unfavourable
judgment of humanity. Of course we embody richer possibili-
ties than the animals, but how few we have translated, up
to to-day, into values of reality! We appear like mere bar-
barians compared with the fishes of the South Sea. We are
endowed with the gift of self-determination: who makes use
of it? In Benares I once watched a flock of guinea-fowls being
driven home: the herdsmen, with a palm in his hand, literally
brushed them in front of him, and no sail ever answered to the
changing wind more accurately than did these birds to the
caprices of the driver. Are we human beings in any way
different? To this extent perhaps, that we do not allow our-
selves to be led by every one; if an unsuitable person stands at
the head, then we act independently enough. But even the
guinea-fowls would not have kept such good order if a dog
instead of a man had been at the back of them. As soon as the
right man takes on the leadership, ninety-nine out of every
hundred renounce their autonomy with enthusiasm. . . . How
lamentably men overvalue themselves! Poets believe that
they have a monopoly of giving ｅxpression to the meaning of
things: in point of fact, there have not yet been ten, from the
days of antiquity up to the present, who have equalled any
rose in this respect. No doubt more can be achieved in the
psychic^ sphere than in the clumsy, unpliable physical world.
But is it achieved? only too rarely.
CHAP.56 THE KILAUEA CRATER 247
But I will return once more to the question of appropriate-
ness. It is instructive to meet, among the curious creatures
popukting the aquarium, a figure which is not natural in its
effect. In one of the glass containers there are Japanese orna-
mental fish. They are bred just as double carnations; they are
the product of human imagination. They look pleasant enough
in the beautifully shaped vases in which they are displayed
in Japan, but they do not fit into different surroundings. Their
tails are of no use for steering, they have developed into
powerless appendages; their eyes are tired and too big, like
those of lap-dogs; their all too round bodies can hardly divide
the water any more. How helplessly such creatures behave,
even in a sea en miniature! They can only be preserved arti-
ficially; left to themselves, their race would die in a few weeks.
This consideration makes very plain what the truth is con-
cerning the ideal of natural appropriateness. Of course we
should not 'return' to Nature, for Nature herself never stands
still; but we should only advance in such a direction as does
not lead into a cul-de-sac. This was the case of the ancestors
of the Japanese ornamental fish.
56
on THE KILAUEA CRATER
THE moon inay have offered a spectacle like this before she
was burnt out; on earth there is nothing to equal it. A
volcano, not a mountain vomiting fire, but a sea of fire, a sea
as it sometimes rages in the north, when the spring tempests
break up the ice. A wild surging, frothing, foaming, whirling
mass around the melting floes. And the lava roars and sings
like the sea.
In the daytime the spectacle is not particularly impressive}
the cauldron is wide but confined, the material strikes one as
so overpowering that one is reminded involuntarily of a fur-
nace, and the awakened fancy does not soar towards the infinite,
but towards limitation. However, since the sun has gone
down, the picture grows grander from hour to hour. The rim
248 THE NEW WORLD PART vii
of the crater has become invisible, the scarias are opaque j it
seems as if the fire stood out against endless space; one believes
oneself to be looking closely into the seething of the sun.
For a moment I feel uneasy: to behold such a spectacle is
really denied to man. I ought to have been consumed at the
first glimpse. Instead of this, I am lying, free from all danger,
on the border of the gulf of fire, and at ease, like a god, I
watch the beginning of all things.
Somebody speaks of hell. This is a comparison which would
never enter my head here. It is possible that Vesuvius would
conjure it up because it threatens a world of rich life with
destruction} there the fire really symbolises death. Here,
however, one cannot speak of death, because life is not yet
born; here one attends those primeval events which took place
at a time when life was not. Thus one experiences neither
horror nor delight on the Kilauea, no human sentiment can
exist here; I feel as the spirit must have felt when he moved
upon the face of the waters. The thought strikes me: if I were
to throw myself down into this fire, I could not possibly take
any harm. As I am able to look upon it, I am obviously a spirit.
This fire has absolutely nothing hostile about it, no primeval
fire has in itself. If all Western myths associate the volcanic
state with hell, and attribute the latter's most horrible abor-
tions to the holiest of all elements, the reason must be sought
in the fact that their inventors never had any communion with
the volcanic world; they knew it not. And later on the barbaric
Christian tendency arose to explain all nature as a medium for
a distinct purpose, as an instrument for meting out reward or
punishment. The fiction of the Hawaiians is better here. The
myth of the Kilauea is as follows: long ago, Pele, a beautiful
maiden, threw herself into the sea of fire to escape a hideous
lover. Since then she lives in the crater as its soul, being
also the^ guardian goddess of the whole archipelago. The
Kilauea is never in eruption without a weighty reason: wisely
does Pele govern the destinies of the isle. She set Kame-
hameha upon the throne by suffocating his enemies with sul-
phurous gases. Never does she hurt the innocent. She is a
kind goddess: whenever, at set periods, the moment approaches
CHAP, 57 LAVA FIELDS 249
when she is forced to overflow, for reasons of her own, she
warns her children in time; even the white men, who really
treat her badly, and repeatedly have made themselves more
obnoxious to her than reverence permits, have never suffered
misfortune from her hands. More than once, foolhardy
climbers, who were already in the act of falling, escaped death
at the last moment, a thing which never could have happened
without supernatural intervention.
57
on THE LAVA FIELD BEFORE THE
KILAUEA
(Early morning.*)
EVERY time when a new day dawns it seems to me as though
the evolution of the world were starting all over again.
The vapours and mists wipe out all individual shape. The
contours grow uncertain. And the great holy stillness, not
disturbed by so much as the cry of a lonely bird, breathes all
over nature the atmosphere of the very beginning of things.
Never have I experienced the feeling of primeval origin as
strongly as here. Over there, in the clouds, the gulf of fire is
miraged; fire glows from the sun on to the rocks and crags j
from the rigid lilac-tinted lava yellow vapours of sulphur rise
fitfully. Aiid when the sun mounts a little higher, I perceive
silvery, tropic-birds which circle over the wide and dark soli-
tude like spirits from a better world.
The vegetation is also primordial. All plants which flourish
here love sulphur j curious, fleshy growths, sallow in colour,
but decked with burning red blossoms. Here and there a
gigantic fern or a crippled little tree, which has evidently come
into the world too soon. It cannot have looked very different
in the age when the earth became the habitation of life for
the first time. How did it come to be created? It is not
worth while to ponder thisj we cannot follow up this thought
to the end. Perhaps, after all, the description in the Book of
250 THE NEW WORLD PART vii
Genesis is the most objective. We shall never get beyond
the fact that life appeared here as soon as it became possible,
and then all at once in manifold shapes and forms. How
very ridiculous science is when it tries to explain away this
miracle! Would it not be much more wonderful if Wagner
had, somehow or other, succeeded in fashioning a homunculus
than if the world was created according to the description
in the Bible? As if that which is essentially appropriate and
significant life were the result of pure chance? How it
came to be, I know not, Brahma himself does not know, as
the beautiful Indian saga shows. And I must acknowledge
that it would vex me if the whole process could be made
plausible. I love the miracle 5 I will have it so; perhaps pre-
cisely because in so many respects I am a fanatic for exactitude.
I love Kant above all because his definition of our limitations
has indirectly proved the existence of an absolutely inconceiv-
able reality. For me, as for all honest men, it is quite impos-
sible to imagine a world which could be essentially different
from the human one, impossible to understand in concrete
what it means, for instance, that distances in space do not pos-
sess transient reality. And therefore I am most heartily thank-
ful, as soon as I think of it, that the primeval beginning can-
not be explained in any way, that here at least mythology
will for ever have the final word. But then, one myth is as
probable as another in so far as it is probable in itself j why
should not the first day have been exactly like the grey dawn
of this morning? Deep silence, glowing fire; vapours of water
and sulphur rising above dark plains of cooling matter. And
suddenly, for the first time, and yet as if it could not be other-
wise, the call of the first bird sounding in the distance.
^ I imagine myself back in those days when, as a young geolo-
gist, I wandered through the mountains. It did not last
long: irresistibly I was drawn away from the stones to the
living word. How reluctantly I performed in the end the
tasks which I had undertaken! To-day I would not be opposed
to returning to my starting-point. How much greater, more
sublime, wider than any work of man, is nature, even when
dead! In nature everything has been created in grandeur, is
CHAP. 57 LAVA FIELDS 251
sustained in grandeur . . . Mahomet's words come back to
my mind: 'Verily the creation o heaven and earth is a greater
thing than the creation of man 5 but most men do not under-
stand this.' Yes, it is certainly better for us to ponder the
works of nature than the greatest work of human genius. The
geologist who contemplates the Alps, recognises with one com-
prehensive look billions of eventful years 5 in the mirror of
intensified moments he actually sees how the mountains grew,
how one fauna alternated with another, how in the end the
picture we see to-day was consummated. Thus, he attends in
spirit the first performance of the grand symphony of life:
at the beginning only a few single notes were sounded,
then ever more and fuller voices joined in, complicated melo-
dies made themselves heard and their place was taken again
and again by others, according to a plan traced in terms of time,
which is only comprehensible when viewed from the perfected
whole. He is not surprised by the seeming antagonism of
simultaneity and succession, of change and constancy: in im-
mutable types that counterpoint is realised which controls all
melody inwardly without injuring it in its freedom. And in
this way the spectacle of nature means much more to him than
to the most impressionable of artists. If I have any advantage
over many thinkers, it is the advantage of having been a natu-
ralist by profession. Philosophers generally study Greek or
Sanskrit or comparative literature. . . . That is perfectly right,
but it seems to me that it would further them more to become
absorbed in the evolution of the world. The music of the
universe slumbers in the irrational laws of crystallisation $ all
artistic ideals are symbolically preconceived in the germ of the
plasma. From the first breath of desire which trembled
through shapeless chaos, an unbroken chain of developments
leads to the Iliad and the Parthenon.
252 THE NEW WORLD PART vir
58
AT THE CRATER AT NIGHT
TO-NIGHT I keep guard at the creation of the world* Above
me the stars glitter in infinity j at an immeasurable dis-
tance below me there surges the sea of fire: it is so far away
that its boundaries may include a universe. I do not tire.
What goes on before me is more than the most powerful
destiny.
For hours I have been looking, with my attention at a
stretch, down into the crater, attempting to become absorbed
in its dynamic principle. In the qualitative sense the problem
is not difficult: the forces which are at work here are all effective
in my body, their laws are also my laws. But their measure,
nevertheless, makes the problem impossible. Great quantity
involves a new quality. No matter how much the atom may
be a solar system c m itself,' there is nevertheless a difference
between it and the star of which it forms a fraction. I cannot
experience inwardly the degree of intensity of the known forces
which are expressed in the operation of the volcano j it is easy
to describe, to understand and to explain it, but that is not
what I mean.
How much more easily could the creation of the world be
understood according to any myth ! Every one of them, even
the most childish, is humanly more probable than the phe-
nomenology of radium, for the creation from nothingness by
the will of a god is the heightened reflection of that which
every man performs at every moment. I think of something,
and immediately it stands there in my world of mental images j
surely that means that I have spontaneously created an entity
out of nonentity. I have achieved something just as immense
as Jahveh when he created the world. And what I thus
create is also 'very good' from the start, at any rate much better
than I could ever make it by constructive thought. The 'non-
entity' from which I have magically evoked an 'entity' can, of
course, only be conceived materially j thus I am in principle not
behind the Demiurge, even in this sense. Of course, the
CHAP. 58 THE CRATER 253
substance of thought is much more formative than that which
constitutes mountains. But if it is possible at all to influence
matter by mind, then it must be possible to do so with heavier
masses, quite apart from the probable fact that ultimately they
consist of thought substance too. Indirectly, man achieves a
good deal in this direction, but I am convinced that he could
achieve even directly much more than is considered possible
to-day hardly less than the Indian Yogis assert. Concentra-
tion of attention is the concentration of psychic energy} a neu-
rasthenic subject cannot concentrate himself: where then is the
breach which shows the creation after the manner of Jehovah
to be impossible in principle? If I, by perfect concentration
of all the forces over which my consciousness has power in the
best circumstances, issued the command: let there be light, then
there probably would be light.
For a moment I hold on to this thought. It amuses me to try
to hold the eruption in check by my will-power. I feel a little
annoyed that I do not succeed, no matter how much I would
regret it, on the other hand, if this magnificent spectacle before
me came to an untimely end. What is the cause of my in-
ability? Presumably a triviality, a trick; probably, given suffi-
cient knowledge of nature, a volcano could be extinguished
with just as little expenditure of effort as an electric bulb;
probably it could be done quite directly without any apparatus
to assist me. No matter how immense the powers below me
are, the greatest of all, the intra-atomic energy, is not at work.
If I could succeed, which is surely not difficult, in destroying
but one cubic foot of lava, the volcano would have to be ex-
ceedingly careful as to its future.
No, there is no trace of life here. What is life? An imma-
terial principle which forms matter. It should, therefore, be
possible to create a soul for the volcano. I incline more and
more to the view that life is omnipresent and externalises itself
as soon as the necessary material conditions seem to be fulfilled
(which conditions, of course, life creates itself, at any rate
partially). In the same way, mental personality is revealed
as soon as the brain has become mature; in the same way, ex-
pression animates a picture as soon as a certain line has been
254 THE NEW WORLD PART vn
drawnj just such a profound meaning creeps into a meaningless
sentence when but a single word is altered. And what is es-
tranging and almost frightening is that this animation can be
brought about by mere accident. Decidedly, I can hardly con-
ceive of greater joys than to create souls. With every idea
which man puts into the world, matter receives a new signifi-
cance. In all seriousness: how would it be if I gave a soul to
this volcano? But perhaps it has one already, according to the
Hawaiian myth, and I am merely wanting in the organ with
which to recognise it.
. . . Now the night is far spent. The lava has risen stead-
ily, melting down ever wider circles of the mainland. The
darker the background becomes, the more brightly do the
flames shimmer. The red colour predominant during the day
has now disappeared. Now the whole is a symphony in
black and gold. Strange! Here in the face of this flaming
world I am reminded of Japanese lacquer-work. Apparently
it is the same principle which, in the one case, ekes out gold,
and in the other fiery lava upon the dusky background.
... I have dozed a little after all. Was it the echo of an
unconscious dream, induced by the conversation of the tour-
ists? As I open my eyes, the sea of flame seems to be peopled
by naked bodies. That was meant to be hell. But no : not one
of the burning sinners seems to be tortured. The flames do
them no damage j they cling to them as harmlessly as shadows.
. . . Dawn breaks. once more, as on the first day of crea-
tion, heaven and earth are divided from one another. The
belated moon hurries, insecure and pale, away from the laugh-
ing sun in a sweeping curve. Below in the cauldron the ebb
has succeeded to the flow. The sea has shrunk together, seems
inert, almost dead. The gold has been changed into a dull
red. The black background, which but a little while ago was
an endless world, reveals itself now as a dirty grey crust of
dross*
CHAP.S9 BAY OF WAIKIKI 255
59
THE BAY OF WAIKIKI
THE Greeks relegated the blessed to an island home: what
could prove better than this the infallibility of their
power of imagination? In the human sense, only the conceiv-
able is possible, and an existence such as the blessed should
lead seems conceivable only upon a lonely isle in the sea. In
perfect seclusion extravagant wishes cannot live} there, nothing
happens which could become history, there time means noth-
ing any more. Earthbound man, especially the Greek with
his indomitable creative desire, would pine away in such a
place} but to the blessed, who have escaped both desires and
time, it would signify paradise.
Life in Hawaii involuntarily assumes the nature of a myth.
The European, the essentially historical being, seems out of
place here like a crawling fly on a water-colour drawing. The
Hawaiian, however, who fits into the picture, appears strangely
unreal} or real, rather, in the sense of dream-experience.
There is hardly a difference between that which I see with my
eyes and what I read in the old heroic sagas. These men re-
semble exactly those who live only in mythology: warm-hearted
and careless, light-minded and good, frittering away their life
from feast to feast} and at the same time terrible in war, cruel
and merciless, once it comes to fighting. They live, on the
one hand, on that which tree and shrub provide them with
gratuitously, harmless like butterflies} on the other hand, they
are cannibals, or were cannibals, at any rate, a hundred years
ago. The gods of Olympus were not different. King Kame-
hameha, the Alexander of the South Seas, whose deeds are
exalted in a thousand songs, was a ruler like Zeus, great,
violent, cruel, and at the same time good and harmless, light-
hearted, on the whole irresponsible as a child. The battles
which took place under his leadership combats of the bloodiest
kind, in which whole tribes perished were nevertheless in-
tended more as tournaments than as real battles} or as battles
such as the gods fought among each other before Troy. These
THE NEW WORLD PART vii
men of flesh and blood treated death with no more seriousness
than the Olympians.
This is what the first men should have been like, according
to the unanimous report of all mythology. It is, of course,
impossible that they were really like that, but it seems highly
significant to me that this is the nature which fiction has at-
tributed to them without exception. The first men were not
primitive, but the children of the gods, and this means that they
were simultaneously more and less than we human beings are.
That the gods or, more precisely, those gods who^ were di-
vinities after the manner of the Olympians were simultane-
ously more as well as less than we are, appears from all the
myths. But the Indians alone have known how to show in
what this plus and this minus consists: of the three elements,
satwa, rajas and tamas, which are said to compose the world,
the second, rajas, energy, falls in excess to the lot of the gods,
whereas they entirely lack the third, inertia. Since, however,
there is no inertia, since power meets with no resistance, the
gods are, with all the advantages which complete lack of limi-
tation bestows, limited in a twofold sense: they are superficial,
irresponsible, since no action touches their inner being, no
matter what its effects are in other spheres 5 and they are in-
capable of growing beyond their divinity. Whereas man, pre-
cisely by virtue of the spirit of gravity, can wrestle his way
through to enlightenment (the predominance of Satwa), the
god only succeeds in this if he is born again as the son of man,
and if he takes advantage of the opportunities of this condi-
tion. I cannot conceive a better definition of the concept of a
Nature-God j it is precisely in the Indian sense that such a god
is really less than man. And primordial man, the child of the
gods, is, in precisely the same sense, more and also less than
we are. We, however, notice, above all, the ways in which
they are c more, J which is what always happens when an actual
condition is compared with an imagined onej for this reason,
the primordial mythical state strikes us as ideal. We long for
freedom from all limitations, for irresponsibility, no matter
what price we would have to pay for it, simply because our
life is nothing else but responsibility. Thus, even I have
CHAP. 59 BAY OF WAIKIKI 257
actually caught myself in the act of admiring Hawaiians. It
seems to me to be only superhuman, not sub-human, to be
able to live so like the gods.
I wrote this late at night, after returning from a Hawaiian
banquet. It was wild and simultaneously full of lyric charm.
A bard chanted ancient sagas with a strangely affecting voice,
while the guests, gathered round a single dish, tore fishes to
pieces with their hands like beasts, and feather-bedecked
dancers swayed their hips in fantastic curves without letting
the upper portion of their bodies and their heads betray even
the slightest motion.
This is no doubt the island of the blessed. Day after day
the sun shines, giving life to mountain and valley alike. Eve-
ning upon evening, cool breezes play in the tops of the coco
palms. Year in, year out, the trees and shrubs are in bloom
and the trees become laden with fruit. And above all the
ocean belongs entirely to the world of the immortals. The
breakers roll up thunderingly and threateningly, and yet man
plays with them, as if they were nothing but foam. Out there
by the reefs they are so enormous that they might frighten a
whale. But the eternally cheerful Hawaiians are not afraid:
they make use of the waves as if they were riding animals,
they chase towards the shore upon them, balancing and vault-
ing along the crests, like Tritons in an idyll of the sea.
Are these handsome brown men, who feel as much at home
in the ocean as fishes do, men like ourselves? Probably not
quitej each element develops special beings. Man as a rider
or as a diver, as an inhabitant of the desert and the mountain,
is every time a different creature. Among men living upon
the water I have so far only known its conqueror, that is to say,
the land animal which has subjugated water through cunning}
the genuinely amphibious human being can be found to-day
only in the South Seas. But here he is so perfect in his way that
he seems superhuman for this very reason. The Hawaiian
who acts as my guide on the ocean is fair as a god, of gigantic
stature, and a famous shark fighter; he is said to have put out
with his spear the eyes of every shark whom he has met. At
the same time, he is gentle and mild, and in the evening, when
25 8 THE NEW WORLD PART vn
the coco palms sigh in the wind, he sings melancholy tunes to
himself. once more my thoughts roam over to distant Greece.
With what marvellous certainty did the Greek imagination
create! What nature has manifested in the South Seas is the
mirrored reflection of the Greek ideal. Never upon earth have
gods more probable, more capable of life, been invented than
those of Greece.
This could hardly have happened otherwise. The Elysian
fields are the realm of subjectivity; here the mood of the mo-
ment creates reality and transforms all reality into moods;
here the world changes instantaneously into what the whims of
the hour imagine it to be. What usually only flashes like a
meteor through my consciousness now abides in it; Caprices
agglomerate, light wishes become profound, a star is^ being
condensed out of the uncertain mists. Thus, in the midst of
the play of waves, in the paradise of the palm groves and the
gigantic purple flowers, love has been born in me.
Does this mean something serious, something real? How
am I to know? The boundary line between reality and the
creations of fancy cannot be drawn with certainty anywhere.
How often has reality faded into a dream for me, and again,
how often has a dream become reality! How often have I
consciously imposed fiction upon life by relating indifferent
human beings to fictitious combinations: as long as these re-
sisted the process the former were highly significant for me.
And how often has a situation sufficed to awaken a feeling in
me, which disappeared as soon as its stimulus had gone ! It is
never really different. A passion whose fundamental motive
is wild desire, is no deeper and possesses no surer ground than
a caprice of the intellect; here, too, the emotion depends upon
external circumstances, and evanesces when they have become
changed. Essentially psychic reality and imagination can
hardly be discerned from each other; the deciding factor is,
where the centre of man's consciousness actually rests. If he
identifies himself with his natural instincts, then of course he is
his passions; if he identifies himself with some fiction, then
this is supreme reality to him if his consciousness is rooted essen-
tially in racial ties, then the family is his real ego. In order
CHAP.60 TO AMERICA 259
that love can imply absolute reality at all, man must feel him-
self unconditionally identical with his personality. I can no
longer do this. It does happen at rhythmic intervals that
certain instincts gain the upper hand and a secondary centre
constitutes itself as the focus of my being. But this condition
does not endure j once the period is completed my consciousness
assumes its normal position again. From this, however, my
person appears to me as 'outer world' and I cannot treat it
more seriously than any other external circumstances with which
I have to reckon. . . .
For the time being, I tarry in the realm of subjectivity.
Then the love which was within this realm will more than
ever prove to be fancy; it probably has no objective back-
ground whatsoever. And yet, as long as the moment in which
it rules me lasts, it seems real enough to me. once again I
experience that strange condition in which the universe appears
to be completely determined by a few personal co-ordinates,
once more I am overcome by that uncertainty which, I imagine,
seizes every man who suddenly finds himself floating on the
sea of feelings an element which, in contrast to woman, is by
nature so very unfamiliar to him. And yet I know, in the
midst of being adrift, that I could never be drowned in this
sea. In these mythical surroundings all life assumes a mythi-
cal nature, Nereids and Tritons 'are not strangers to love, but
what men take seriously is a game to them} their love lacks
the element of inertia, the earthly fetters, it implies no thral-
dom in the German sense of 'Gemiit.' It is just the same as
that love which to-day controls my heart and soul and senses.
At this moment it transfigures the world for mej but I doubt
if I would suffer it if its object suddenly ceased to exist, . . .
60
TOWARDS AMERICA
No time must be lost now: before I reach California I must
have disentangled my soul from all its links to the East;
otherwise, impure tones will resound in me, just as if a chord,
260 THE NEW WORLD PART vn
beautiful in itself, were drawn over by a foot pedal into a
melody in another key. I must rally all my forces, for this
transposition will not be easy. Not only do I feel no longing
for America I dread this country, I have a horror of it. But
personal inclinations and disinclinations are never to be taken
seriously; they only prove the limitations of him who possesses
them. Without doubt the United States are worth seeing, pos-
sibilities are realised there which exist nowhere ^else, and^it is
only worth while to tarry with the positive side of things.
If, on the other hand, I land in San Francisco in a negative
and unsympathetic mood, then I will not become aware of the
positive elements, nor will I be able to absorb myself in the
spirit of the country. It is not possible without loving surren-
der to understand anything at all; as long as the slightest in-
clination to criticism remains in the centre of consciousness, it
is hopeless to do justice to what is strange. How am I to
manage to change my attitude fundamentally in the course of
a brief week? I must undertake something like a psychological
analysis; discover what the real cause of my personal feelings
is. When I have found this out, and thereby the insufficiency
of my aversion for there is nothing which could objectively
justify subjective contrariness then I will no doubt be master
of my undesirable mood.
When I consider the matter carefully, I find that my an-
tipathy is not directed to the American element as such, but to
that of the Westerner in general; and only against the Ameri-
cans in so far as they are the most extreme ｅxpression of the
Westerner. We Europeans imagine ourselves to be divided
from the Americans by more than the ocean: therefore, the
knowledge that the Asiatic recognises a difference only in so
far as Americans appear to them as the most typical Europeans
was all the more instructive to me; in his view, they embody
no different spirit from ours, but the same in a more explicit
form. Undoubtedly he is right; the essential qualities of a
people from the point of view of its distinguishing elements,
are always recognised best by the foreigner. I must therefore
presuppose that it is the nature of the Westerner which I dis-
like in the appearance of Americanism.
CHAP.6o TO AMERICA 261
What is this nature, as differentiated from that of the Asiatic?
The usual catchwords of the materialistic West, as opposed to
the spiritualistic East, of our lack of dignity, hastiness and
greed, as opposed to the superiority to the world, the dignity
and calm of the Oriental, of our quest for action as opposed
to their depth of recognition these are not commensurate with
the problem. Even the most justified objection against our
nature is refuted by pointing to the fact that our idealism is
undoubtedly the greater, and for this reason everything which
does not exist in us may yet come to pass. It may easily hap-
pen that the materialism of our age will one day be looked back
upon as a profitable stage upon the way to spiritualisation, for
the material embodies an ideal to the Westerner and there-
fore draws him upward, whether he will or not. The fact that
he expends greater attention upon the means to life than upon
life itself does not differentiate him essentially from the Ori-
ental. We too long ultimately for the one thing which is
needful j this longing is becoming increasingly the dominant
factor in our strife, only we wish to perfect appearance over
and above this, and if this determination appears in the fore-
ground at the moment, it is due to the fact that man cannot
pursue two aims simultaneously with equal energy. In any
case it is a mistake to reproach us with our endeavour to perfect
the world of appearances: on the contrary, our superiority rests
upon this attempt, for the Eastern proceeding of turning away
from it for the sake of its significance is poor in comparison
with ours, which wishes to express all significance in appear-
ance. It is true that we have not yet realised our ideal, but
we are sure to realise it one day, for we are moving directly
towards it. No, the circumstances described by the usual catch-
phrases do not determine my antipathy; of this I am sure, for
the efficiency of our civilisation has never struck me as a nega-
tive factor. Of noise and bustle there is more than a sufficiency
even in the East 5 but in the West they lead to more,
We are obviously concerned with something else; and this
something else, which really determines my aversion, is, if I
judge correctly, the circumstance that all forms have become
fluid in the Westerner j this must be it, for I feel no disinclina-
262 THE NEW WORLD PART vn
tion towards those who, as individuals or types o classes, repre-
sent a perfect manifestation. The opposition between East
and West with which I am concerned in these observations
only dates from the time when we began to proceed upon our
rapid march, or, expressed more precisely, it has only existed
at those periods during which we were in a state of rapid transi-
tion. In idea this condition has always existed: in principle the
West has always been mobile, intent upon new creations and
new manifestations; the East has always inclined towards a
static state of equilibrium, just as, from the point of view
of the Greek Orthodox Church, Catholicism and Protestantism
appear as the children of one spirit (the Reformation, with
its consequences, seemed in its eyes only the ultimate ｅxpression
of that instinct for renewal and change which has characterised
the Western Church from the beginning), so it is surely
possible to prove the seed of the opposition which exists to-day
between the East and the West everywhere and at all times.
But this seed has only matured lately. Between the days of
our classical antiquity and the flourishing periods of Eastern
culture, between the France of the seventeenth century, and
China, of, say, the Sung Dynasty, there was only a difference
in appearance, not in being, as far as actuality is concerned - y
even in the West the static ideal has predominated until the
beginning of the recent era, even in ancient Greece and in Italy
of the Renaissance; for life there, no matter how full of rest-
less movement it was,- was gauged by values whose validity was
independent of time. If we modern Europeans regard East
and West as a fundamental opposition, we do not in fact oppose
the East so much to the West as the classical and mediaeval
ideal to that of modernity, which is essentially Protestant;
and this means that we oppose the ideal of perfection to that
of progress. Thus I would appear to have found the key to
the problem. I prefer Orientalism to Occidentalism because
I value perfection in any form higher than success.
In modern man, and first and foremost in the Americans, all
forms have become fluid. In the new world, the time-hon-
oured differences between classes and types no longer apply;
what used to be something final appears, where it exists to-day
CHAP.6o TO AMERICA 263
at all, merely as a step, on which every one can ascend or de-
scend. Thus, forms of life have become parts played on the
stage. A theatrical part, however, possesses no formative
powerj one assumes or discards it like a garment} one cannot
take it quite seriously. This ironic relation to formation would
represent a highest ideal if the profoundest consciousness of
being went hand in hand with it, and the emphasis of life were
laid upon it. In the case of modern man the emphasis lies on
something else: it lies on the changing of parts in itself, on
getting on in the world. For this reason he does not represent
a higher kind of man.
Every now and again I have met minds who saw the chief
objection against modernity in the fact that it prefers quantity
to quality^ that it recognises no kind of boundaries, whereas
personal limitation in some form or other is the fundamental
condition of all embodiment of values. This objection, of
course, is brought forward rightly} what I have said myself is
essentially the same in meaning. But the description which
regards quantity and quality as quasi-eternal and opposites
falsifies the truth. The fact that modern man appears in-
satiable does not imply a misfortune, because even this fcrteipov
will inevitably find its limits at some juncture, which will
automatically bring about self -limitation} and in the meantime
the quantitative standard will rise. The tendency to the purely
quantitative is a temporary phenomenon, and will probably
translate itself of its own accord from external as well as in-
ternal causes, into other tendencies as soon as new humanity
has its years of indiscretion behind it. It proves lack of imagi-
nation to perceive a catastrophe in the transgression of the time-
honoured boundaries, for not one of them embodies an ideal
in itself. In themselves they all are disadvantages; the further
they are removed the better. What is really serious is that our
age confuses perfection and success} that it does not deny the
old values, but that it imagines that it is realising the same
values on a higher level than any earlier epoch} that it regards
its condition not as temporary but as ideal. This circumstance
causes the inferiority of its representatives.
Nature realises and perfects itself in manifestation. Where
264 THE NEW WORLD PART vii
it is not yet manifested, that is to say in a preliminary con-
dition, there being is not revealed in its purity: hence the
immaturity of the Westerner compared with the Oriental.
But the most immature young colt, where he does not wish to
be anything but a colt, may seem very lovable j he appears
repugnant only where he pretends to be a complete human
being, and this is what characterises the Americans. In Europe
it is being understood more and more that the fluid condition,
in which men happen to be, is only not an evil when it means a
transitional stage, and Europeans therefore strive beyond
fluidity, for the examples of a higher kind of humanity are
not far away. The American only guesses in exceptional cases
that there is anything higher than progress. It is for this
reason that he seems more barbaric than any one else.
I would thus appear to have determined why I do not
favour Occidentalism, and I cannot disapprove my feelings. At
the same time, I have found the starting-point from which I
ought to be able to change my negative attitude into a positive
one.
In China I had arrived at the conclusion that the Chinese
were at a higher cultural, but upon a lower natural level than
we are} that the higher degree of perfection in them went
hand in hand with a lower degree of progressiveness. From
this it follows that if, from our natural level, we attain the same
degree of perfection as the Chinese, we would be altogether
their superiors, and this would justify the transitional con-
dition. The road to a new form from a completed one leads
only through formlessness, and from one perfection to another
only through insufficiency. Modern Europe has broken the
old forms. In so doing it renounced for a long period the
possibility of appearing perfect} it has fallen back into bar-
barism, in the midst of which it still is, and into which it will
penetrate presumably ever further for a long timej from the
point of view of perfection, there is certainly no progress
among us. But equally certainly, we are progressing from the
point of view of natural evolution, and this places possibilities
for accomplishment into the world, which are not innate in the
great peoples of the East. These possibilities are still so far
CHAP.60 TO AMERICA 265
from realisation that only the embryologist can predetermine
them with any certainty} what is revealed to our vision to-day
is ugly on the whole. But our condition promises much: no
man capable of insight can deny it. From this point of view I
will henceforth face Westernism.
IF I am not mistaken, it was in Adyar that I discussed at
length the general relation between the desires for perfection
and for progress. I then laid the main stress on the fact that
ambition to advance biologically leads directly away from
possible perfection, that a desire for perfection, conversely,
indirectly facilitates progress. But these simple considerations
do not exhaust the question j the connection between both
tendencies of evolution is manifold and complex. To-day I
want to attain clarity concerning the most curious relations
which I am able to recognise in them.
If I compare the accomplished cultures of the East with our
growing ones, I find that the inner man is incomparably more
cultured within the former, but that in the latter that which
distinguishes the highest subjectivity in the East seems to
have been externalised into an objective power. I do not be-
lieve that any not very highly gifted Christian knows how to
love as profoundly as an Indian Bhakta, feels as humanely as
the typical Buddhist, or has saturated his soul with such moral
feeling as a distinguished Confucian} on the other hand, among
us, love, morality and humanity have become objective powers,
and this cannot be said of them in the East. Whereas in our
case even the man who is inwardly coarse is forced, to a certain
degree, to act according to the highest ideals, nothing compels
the Asiatic to appear cultured where he is not, and for this
reason the behaviour in practice of the average man in the
East leaves more to be desired than that of the same class in
the West. on the whole, we act better than we are.
We have run ahead of our being by our institutions. Our
intellect has recognised as desirable for every one what only a
saint would strive after from inner and personal stimulus, and
it has invented a machinery which secures the realisation of
266 THE NEW WORLD PART vii
what is desirable automatically. The disadvantages of this
method are obvious: the possibility of realising what is good
externally makes us superficial, for, where this opportunity
exists, man grows accustomed to expect^ all salvation from
external circumstances, and neglects his inner culture corre-
spondingly. But our method also has very great advantages,
and I wish to tarry in their contemplation to-day, being con-
cerned with awakening a sympathetic attitude towards the
West. Every soul is capable of manifold formation, is devel-
oped differently according to which of its component parts
gains predominance, and the form which it finally assumes
depends to a high degree upon the surroundings in which
it develops just as, in savage times, most people become
savage, because all opportunities are favourable to the brute
in them, so the best gains the upper hand in most people in
favourable circumstances} for this reason it is fortunate if
external circumstances are as propitious as possible. It is
undoubtedly possible to influence inner faculties externally j
in fact, in the case of beings incapable of insight, this is the
only way to make them participate in the highest. The ancient
cultures demanded accordingly that the immature should
show blind obedience to the men of knowledge, and it was
surely much better to subject the mass to this tutelage rather
than to leave them to their own devices, all the more so as they
did not know of a third possibility. Our civilisation has called
such a third possibility into life: within the sphere of modern
organisation of external life, goodness proves itself to be more
and more profitable $ appreciation of his own advantage makes
even the blackguard reliable in business to-day. The bluntest
mind is being forced by experience to the recognition that in
our world it is better in the long run to behave in accordance
with our ideals. No matter if this condition is induced by
the most brutal utilitarianism, the ideal demands have the
effect of positive forces, and they form the soul in such a way
that an average modern individual who has grown up in not
altogether adverse circumstances involuntarily thinks more
humanely and more justly than his forbears. Now a natural
evolution of humanity in the moral sense demonstrably does
CHAP.60 TO AMERICA 267
not take place j their inherited moral temperament is on the
whole just the same as it was thousands of years agoj all ethical
progress of the masses is due to spiritual influences which, as
such, concern only the individual, and which, seen from the
angle of physiology, come from outside. For this reason, the
success conditioned by our system, by which the spiritually
immature individual, no matter for what reason, professes
virtue by his own incentive, represents an exceedingly im-
portant phenomenon.
Thus an inner force is awakened in him which strives volun-
tarily in the direction in which external pressure directs him,
and in this way the general level rises slowly but irresistibly.
According to the Oriental system, the man who is born imma-
ture must remain so 5 and no matter how high the condition of
the mature, a process of growth seems impossible for the
masses 5 humanity as a whole remains upon its original level of
existence. Within our system the possibility exists that pre-
cisely the mass may attain to the position where hitherto only
men born in favourable circumstances used to stand j and this
possibility has been created by the very fact that external cir-
cumstances suggest to the immature to emulate what is good
by their own initiative, so that spiritual powers can now lead
him upwards beyond the limits of his inherited nature. Thanks
to this fact, an extraordinarily high percentage of white men
born on a low level have risen to a height during one century,
a height such as the Shastras make the Indian Cudra hope for
only after thousands of years of restless struggle through in-
numerable reincarnations.
This shows very clearly in what sense the desire for progress
really does benefit perfection. No doubt perfection cannot be
reached by this path. The barbarity of modern man is ex-
plained by this. But the striving after progress within a cul-
tural system in which the highest ideals operate as objective
forces, helps more and more people to attain to the natural
level on which in India the Brahmin stands alone. He too is
not born as a perfect individual; his advantage consists in his
better heritage, which makes it possible for him to strive
directly without deviation towards the highest earthly ideal j
268 THE NEW WORLD PART vn
our cultural system may one day develop so far that all men
will start life as Brahmins.
This must be placed to the credit of the ideal of equality, no
matter how much in other ways it lowers humanity and makes
it superficial. If the present condition represented a final stage,
then it would have to be opposed by all means 5 the levelling
downwards which democracy inevitably effects, brings with it
an enormous lowering of the value of humanity, and the con-
tinuation of this process would spell ruin. However, it will
not continue j democracy only signifies a working ^hypothesis,
which will disappear of its own accord when the time is ripe.
As soon as the general level has been raised sufficiently, new
layers will arise, new mountains will be piled up, new valleys
will be hollowed out; only the new aristocracy will be based
upon a higher level than the old one was, whose qualities will
now have become the inheritance of the masses.
IN fact, there is a great deal of good in democracyj every
outlook based upon the idea of evolution tends to produce
optimistic men, and nothing accelerates success as much as
self-confidence. What differentiates modern evolution from
all its previous forms is the briefness of the period of time it
requires to achieve evolutionary power. The old Indian phi-
losophy, which teaches, just as modern democracy does, that
every one is capable in principle of the highest, and that the
castes are only stages on the path of progress, limited this
magna charta of freedom, declaring that every given life must
remain within its inherited confines and that the boundaries
of caste can only be escaped from life to life through the transi-
tionary stage of death; in the same way, every aristocrat who
is not altogether a fool will allow that a rise to a higher level
does take place in families, so that it would be unjust to deny
to the most advanced acceptance into his social community
but at the same time he will abide by his belief that at least
three generations are required in order to produce a gentle-
man. Modern democracy, however, asserts that this process
can be fulfilled in the course of one life.
CHAP.6o TO AMERICA 269
It is certain, on the one hand, that such rapid growth is not
salutary 5 very few people can stand being transplanted from a
narrow into a wide frame } if it were otherwise, then modern
Europeans and Americans would seem less crude. on the
other hand, however, the democratic belief strengthens opti-
mism so immensely that it develops into an elemental power,
whose virtue makes the apparently impossible possible. It
brings about what even to-day is not infrequently ascribed to
the 'original equality of all men,' that the old barriers, erected
by birth, seem really less justified than heretofore} thanks to
this power, it is actually true that the process of evolution
may be abbreviated. And if at first only the disadvantages of
the liquefaction of the old forms strike one, one should remem-
ber that this state of affairs will be altered after a short period}
in advanced countries there will ere long be no very low layers
of the people at all} every one will be schooled and even cul-
tured to a certain degree. And if this event has only seen one
generation pass, then upstarts in the old sense will no longer
exist, for no one will any longer be quite unprepared for a
higher position in life. The democratic ideal brings about a
spiritual rise of the lower strata of the people} according to the
system of cross-breeding, they will very soon have been en-
nobled on a large scale. And once this has been attained, then
the belief in equality will pass away of its own accord, and the
basis will have been found for the aristocratic order of the
future.
Among the sages of ancient India the power of enjoyment
was regarded as one of the essential qualities which a youth
had to possess in order to be regarded as worthy of acceptance
as a Chela. This is only another ｅxpression for having an
optimistic temperament. He who seemed suited for accept-
ance was pointed the way along which to advance as far in
the course of one single life as he would otherwise only have
done in thousands of years by passing through many incarna-
tions} even the Indian philosophy thus admits the possibility
of abbreviated evolution. But it affirms this possibility only
for one in a million; democratic philosophy presupposes it for
every one. This seems bold. But when one remembers how
270 THE NEW WORLD PART vii
low the highest ideal is which democracy has developed hith-
erto, compared with the Indian ideals, then one feels inclined to
agree. This ideal might perhaps be achieved by every one.
And once they have attained to it, then higher ideals will rise
upon their mental horizon of their own accord.
WHERE more than ten Americans are gathered together, one
may be certain that one will be a crank, an original person
of the eccentric kind. Even on this steamer I have discovered
one: a missionary whose speciality is the belief in demons.
He is said to have seen in China how the spirits of dead girls
took possession of others, and how baptism alone can pre-
vent this calamity 5 on the strength of this idea, and the con-
clusions he has drawn from it, he has travelled about ever
since. While, in a sympathetic mood, I was thinking about
this phenomenon, I remembered that I had never once met a
crank amongst Asiatics. The fakir, regarded externally, might
well be taken for an eccentric: but his kind is quite impersonal j
he pursues an eccentric system without being eccentric himself
in the very least. The specifically individual note is lacking.
This note predominates among us; all the more the more
typically Western we are. And the crank flourishes among us
in the same proportion. The striving for individualisation
cannot lead to valuable results among average men; they only
become eccentric when they wish to be 'themselves, 7 and appear
less accomplished than any types, be they ever so limited, be-
cause tradition is always wiser than the mediocre individual.
But, on the other hand, really great innovators can only arise
where every one wants to be 'himself,' where the legitimacy
of this aspiration is presupposed 5 in old China an Edison
would have been inconceivable. The same circumstances which
favour the caricature of the eccentric also benefit the genius.
Regarded superficially, he too is a crank. The struggle to be
different is the necessary presupposition of all inventive
originality.
Therefore, we must probably acquiesce in the fact that we
have to purchase our higher originality in individual cases at
CHAP.60 TO AMERICA 271
the expense of a greater imperfection of the average. Every
innovation qua innovation is inimical to culture in so far as
culture signifies the having-turned-to-flesh of a given spirit,
and the individual in process of formation has not yet attained
this condition. The struggle for innovation, moreover, makes
people superficial; the man whose attention is pinned _ to the
transformation of appearance easily loses contact with his
depth. The more inventive we are, the more superficial we
become, and if we should continue in this evolutionary direc-
tion we might come to a bad end. But I cannot believe that
this process will continue for long. I am convinced, on the
contrary, that our loss of profundity has the same meaning as
money put into the improvement of a farm without showing
returns to begin with: the temporary loss really means invest-
ment. New organs are developed in us at enormous expense;
where heretofore the group was the bearer of all cultural
thought, the individual is to take on this role henceforth. This
reorganisation brings about a temporary renunciation of the
harvests which were secured by the old order. But, once the
new organisation is in full swing, then the farm will probably
yield ten times more. White humanity will hardly consist of
nothing but Edisons in the future, but in all probability the
number of cranks will continually decrease and make way for
a new type, which, on the one hand, is as genuine as the old-
class type, and which, on the other, will appear as self-deter-
mined as the most extreme modern individualist. only the
superficial individual professes individualism, the profound
one directly feels his relationship with the whole. Thus, the
future will seemingly lead to a re-establishment of the old
order. The eccentrics will be reduced, the average individuals
will seem more balanced. And yet it will be an entirely new
state of affairs: every one will be an individuality. Then indi-
vidual form will make the same profundity possible for the
mass that hitherto only the typical form has done.
I am writing in these days as if I were an evolutionist, as if I
believed as firmly in progress as a Yankee. This is really so
in so far as Westerners are concerned, and so far as there can
be any question of progress at all. It seems certain that our
272
THE NEW WORLD PART vii
concept of progress is not adapted to the processes of nature,
and this consideration disposes of Spencer's theory. Not only
do plants and animals remain the same by their own virtue
through aeons of time and change only in reaction to a transient
outer world: the same thing is also true of human beings
everywhere where no physiological 'beyond' controls their
lives j thus, Russian history from the fifteenth century until
yesterday, surveyed from the point of view of man and his
motives, shows nothing but repetitions. But the theory of
evolution would never have found so much support if it were
not in accordance with the intellect. Intellect is essentially
purposeful, necessarily progressive; it is never at rest, it is
incapable of contenting itself, every piece of knowledge at-
tained points to new recognitions, which lead straight away
towards the ideal. Therefore, where intellect dominates life,
life must progress according to the laws of the intellect. We
Westerners have pledged ourselves completely to intellect}
our peculiar nature makes it possible for us to follow its peculiar
momentum to a high degree, intellectual ideals are our aim;
we therefore really become changed in accordance with the
postulates of progress. To what extent this will take place
remains to be seen; physical nature is in itself conservatively
minded and may set insurmountable barriers to the demands
of the mind. Nevertheless, indefinite progress is conceivable,
and as the contents of a faith are real forces, and since ideals
are extremely potent centres of gravitation, the future of white
humanity may yet bring fulfilment with it which the present
has never promised.
I CANNOT become friendly with the missionaries in spite of
the best intentions. There are no doubt great and noble men
in this profession, but they are sown sparsely and they then
fulfil it correspondingly badly: they never really want to 'con-
vert.' It is and remains a limitation to impose one's opinion
upon others, and this is proved clearly enough, in practice, by
the fact that all genuine missionaries are narrow-minded. Here
on board I have conversed with several of them who have lived
CHAP.60 TO AMERICA 273
for years in China: they have actually managed to notice noth-
ing of the advantages of Confucianism! Such blindness is
truly a dispensation of Providence; it can only be explained by
supernatural means. The Christian, and especially the Prot-
estant missionaries are, with negligible exceptions, lacking
in understanding, mean and crude of soul. To what a lament-
ably small extent applies to them what is true of the apostles of
Bahai, to whom BahaVllah, their messiah, gave the noble
instruction: C O children of Baha! Have intercourse with all
the peoples of the world, with the disciples of all religions in
the spirit of complete joyfulness. Remind them of what is
good for them all, but beware of makrng the Word of God the
stumbling-block of friction or the source of mutual hatred. If
ye know what the other does not know, tell him with the
tongue of friendliness and love. If he accepts it and takes it
up, then the aim has been attained; if he rejects it, pray for
him and leave him to himself; ye may never importune
him. . . .'
The missionaries at the beginning of our era were probably
not much better. And when I think of this and the higher
developments which they have brought about nevertheless,
then my attitude to those of to-day becomes more mild. Of
course, it is a misfortune that they visit India and China, for
the inhabitants of these countries are in part mentally, in part
morally, and in part spiritually too high above those who come
to instruct them for them to exercise any advantageous effect.
But they might go to more primitive peoples: they will be as
useful to them as their predecessors were to our barbaric
ancestors. In fact, they will prove themselves to be more use-
ful to them than the revelation of more profound wisdom
could be, because an unique formative power is undoubtedly
inherent in Christianity; it is the only spiritual religion which
possesses such power. And it possesses it, apparently, quite
independently of the quality of those who proclaim it, and
independently of the mental value of its dogma; for this value
is, compared with that of Brahmanism and that of both forms
of Buddhism, very small. In fact, it has constantly decreased
in the course of centuries^ for if the earliest fathers of the
a?4 THE NEW WORLD PART vn
Church possessed spiritual insight, this is true to a small extent
even of Luther and Calvin, and not at all of those artisans and
workmen who appeared in America as the founders of religion.
But almost in the same proportion as the mental value of Chris-
tianity waned, its practical value, its efficacy, has increased.
It cannot be denied that Protestantism forms men of greater
idealism than Catholicism, and that the dogmatism of the
American sects, however preposterous it is, has developed the
spirit of Christianity in its disciples into a power such as it
has never been hitherto. How is this to be understood? In
the sense described above, that the spirit of Christianity is a
spirit of practical work, for which reason it does not matter
too much to what dogmatic concept it appears to be related at
a given time.
From this angle alone is it possible to do justice to Chris-
tianity. It is not true that the teachings of Jesus Christ repre-
sent a maximum in philosophical profundity; even the Gospel
of St. John seems inadequate compared with that of the Bha-
gavad-Gita. In the teachings of Sri Krishna and the Mahayana
religion the fundamental ideas of the Saviour of the West are
revealed in a profounder setting; they seem, moreover, to be
related to a general whole of which Christ Himself remained
unaware, and which nevertheless really gives them their pecul-
iar meaning. From the point of view of metaphysical recog-
nition, traditional or literal Christianity appears as something
altogether temporary. But it is not a religion of recognition
at all, but a religion of practical action, and as such it surpasses
all others. As I have written already: among Christian peoples
alone the ideas of love, compassion, humanity have become
objective forces, and this means that even the most imper-
fectly recognised metaphysical reality has been realised in
appearance better through Christianity than through any
other faith. Its founders were perhaps men with superficial
powers of recognition, they were certainly more profound as
men of action than Krishna and Acvagoshaj yet, in so far as
both meant to fashion appearance, the Christians were the more
profound in the absolute sense, for in the sphere of actual life
the best version of an idea is the one which stands the prag-
CHAP.6o TO AMERICA 275
matic test best no matter to what an extent it satisfies the
mind. This is the meaning of that superiority of Christianity
which history has proved, however much the one-sided intelli-
gentsia may doubt it.
And this at the same time justifies Christian missions. The
narrow-minded men who journey forth to impose their irrel-
evant opinions upon other people yet proclaim a real gospel
through their being: the gospel of work and creative action.
They give an example of a high spirit of sacrifice, untiring
initiative, unshakable consistency, of the firm determination
to help to victory what is good. For this is the essential qual-
ity of Western culture, that it will not allow anything to be re-
garded as unchangeable. We think it possible to transform
the world from its very foundations, to embody our highest
ideals in reality. This spirit of joyful militancy, of courage
and optimism is alien to the East} the East is too sceptical of
human power, it knows too much ... Or has it perhaps
overlooked something important? Have I, in my observations
hitherto, laid the emphasis upon the wrong place? . . . The
first American seagulls fly towards us. The psychic watershed
has been passed, I am drawn irresistibly back into the Western
feeling and mode and form of life. And now I recognise that
the practical superiority of Christianity is the ｅxpression of an
absolute metaphysical advantage: it embodies, as no other
religion does, the spirit of freedom. Man, conditioned by na-
ture, can show himself free only in two ways: by saying yes in-
wardly to all events, and by taking the initiative in directing
them. Accordingly, two commandments sum up Christian
ethics: that every one should take his cross upon himself, and
that every one should fearlessly fight for the victory of good in
a spirit of ready sacrifice. These two commandments really
induce a life of freedom in every one. If the Indians, the pro-
f oundest of all thinkers, fail in practical life, this is due to the
fact that they do not know how to impress their free being
upon appearance. Instead of taking up their cross, they think
of its insubstantiality, which releases them just as little as the
denial of an undesirable relationship removes the relation j
instead of letting the recognition of their essential unity with
276 THE NEW WORLD PART vii
Brahma, who wishes to manifest himself more and more fully
in this world, develop into action by displaying initiative every-
where in accordance with the Divine will, they merely watch
how God helps Himself. We know nothing like as much
as they do 5 but the teaching of Christ induces us to live
unconsciously according to their knowledge. Thus we are
more destined to action than they are. We are the hands of
God. These hands, as hands, are blind, and their blindness
has caused much mischief. But if one day they are guided by
the spirit of recognition, it is they who will ? in so far as it is
possible at all, succeed in founding the kingdom of heaven upon
earth.
PART EIGHT: AMERICA
B;
6i
SAN FRANCISCO
IACK once more in the West. What a good thing that I am
seeing the Far West first! This world is Occidental to so
extreme a degree that the inner transposition which is neces-
sary to enter into it represses the pictures of the East of its own
accord. Thus I find myself instantaneously lifted out of the
unhappy transitional condition in which consciousness is over-
populated by an unclean mixture of the old and the new.
on the first day, in the belief that I still clung to the past, I
took tea in the delightful Japanese tea-house which offers rest
to the traveller at the Golden Gate. What was the first idea
that entered my mind there? That the dwarfed trees longed
to grow into giants! I never had such thoughts in Japan; they
would have been opposed to its spirit. Thus, I had already
lost my inner attachment to the East on the very first day.
The air of California must possess an immense formative
power. I observe what is going on in me: it is a real metamor-
phosis. The consciousness of being recedes} that of 'becom-
ing' increases; and those imperatives which reflect the objective
tendencies of nature everywhere in the subjective sphere are
already stepping into the foreground: one should grow, should
increase, should advance j evidently this feeling of what one
ought to do was at the basis of my impressions which spoke
to me of the altogether improbable desire for growth of the
Japanese dwarf trees. And this reminds me that I never felt I
'should* anything in the East. Would Kant, would Fichte have
been possible in the East? I do not think so. Where the
consciousness of being predominates, there longing to create
is unknown j there homunculus feelings cannot develop} there
it seems unnecessary to command: 'Become what thou art.'
The actual state of things is the same there, in principle, as
here, but man assumes a different attitude to it. The evil-doer
in the East knows no feeling of sinf ulness, the man who strives
still has patience} he who longs fervently for perfection, no
matter how conscious he is of his present insufficiency, only
279
a8o AMERICA PART vin
rarely feels the inner impulse to cut short evolution. They say
the Orientals have time. The truth is that they lack the con-
sciousness of time, for this reason the problems of being arise
for them independently of its temporal actualisation. No
Chela would stand waiting a generation at his Guru's to dis-
cover whether the hour of enlightenment would come, if time
were a reality to himj where his consciousness is fixed upon
appearance at all, as, for instance, in the condition of being in
love, the Hindu is no more patient than we are. What is
typical of the Indian is that he is conscious of his real being as
such in the normal course of events, so that the sinner can
regard himself essentially as a saint, the beginner as perfected,
the fool as wise, and for this reason he sees no necessity to
express being in becoming. For this reason neither the Indian
nor the Chinese sages have given commandments in our sense.
They have said: if you do that you will become perfect j if you
are like that, then you have attained to your goal} if you com-
mit this error, then your development will be arrested. They
never said: you should do this. The East does not know the
meaning of 'should,' because it 'is'; we who are in a constant
transition of growth, see 'being 3 before us in the form of what
we 'should.'
How strange that I 'should' do anything again! Now new
values are becoming decisive: performance will decide the
value of being, success that of volition. Now appearance
acquires absolute significance, since the absolute is to find
ｅxpression in it* The conditions of existence no longer repre-
sent events of equal value; now the rich man is more than the
poor, the strong more than the weak, the wise more than the
fool. It is no longer a question of filling a given position but
of wrestling for the best conceivable one. Which form of
existence is to be preferred, the Eastern or the Western? May
I still judge? I am already no longer unbiased. Already I
want to grow, to become, to create, perform, perfect again,
already volition in itself fills my consciousness to such an extent
that I find it difficult to become absorbed in another kind of
existence. But this much seems unchallengeable: for this world
the West has chosen the better part. In order to enforce what
CHAP.62 YOSEMITE VALLEY 281
is right (which applies in idea eternally), power is needed, for
in itself it is powerless j unless represented by material means
even the truest ideas remain non-existent j however much the
Eastern modality of life benefits the man of recognition, the
Western modality is better, for purposes of translating recog-
nition into action. From the point of view of this world, it is
mere illusion, if a sinner regards himself as a saint he must
become saintly, change his appearance, if he wishes to realise
his being here. 'Becoming' is only controlled by the man
who takes things seriously, who identifies himself consciously
with its phases j only he can quicken it who directs his will
firmly towards the goal, and this, again, is given only to him
who somehow or other sees it in the form of something which
he 'should 5 do before him. The Indians, at home in the world
of ideas, have merely allowed themselves to be driven by the
stream of events. We know how to guide it.
62
IN THE YOSEMITE VALLEY
IHAVE not really escaped from the East as yet: it forms the
background of my Westerner's life, thanks to which it throws
it into a relief which would otherwise be lacking. Therefore I
do not regard it as a matter of course, I find it noticeable that
my self -consciousness gets compressed more and more within
the limits of my person. The scenery which surrounds me is
magnificent} in a similar landscape in India or in China I would
have lost my ego long ago in the universe. I would feel myself
weighted down by the rocks, which embrace the alluvial soil
of the Yosemite within its steep walls j I would experience
myself as the soul of the waterfalls, whose liquid masses reach
the valley, after a descent of many hundred feet, as delicate
spray} I would strive towards heaven in each fir-tree. Here I
am not at one as a matter of course with what surrounds me.
I differentiate between myself and the rocks, I see the water-
falls outside myself, the spirit of the forest means a Thou to
me. And if I become absorbed intentionally into that which
282 AMERICA PART viii
essentially belongs to me, then it seems as if I conquered it.
My world-feeling is expressed in the form of an impulse for
empirical expansion. I can no longer enter into nature without
taking my ego along with mej its structure seems to have be-
come too dense to be dissolved in it as spirit.
Accordingly, my consciousness of existence appears en-
hanced. The force which, a little while ago, was able to fill
universal space is now condensed into the confines of my indi-
viduality. In the process its energy acquires a degree of
strength which I never experienced in India. I am originally
not at one with the world round about me but what should
prevent me from becoming so? Why should I not conquer the
heavens and capture the earth? It seems to me as if I could
do everything I wanted, and I feel impelled to prove it. This,
then, is the meaning of Western conquest! We place the
problem within the limits of time and space which the Indians
attempt to solve independently of them, but it is the same
problem none the less! Nor do I feel as though I had become
more superficial than I was in the East, although the particular
problems which arise for me now all cleave to the surface of
things. How strange that the same inner meaning can find
such profoundly different ｅxpressions: there as mystic recog-
nition, here as impulse for conquest $ there as all-understanding
contentment, here as the blind desire for acquisition. But
significance is no doubt the same everywhere, and it depends
upon circumstances whether it appears as a beast of prey or as
a lamb, as selfishness or greed, as understanding or action.
In California I have become distinctly aware for the first
time of the nature of the factors which make the phenomenon
of the Westerner possible, for here they appear in their ex-
tremest ｅxpression. The air is incredibly vitalising} I have
never had so much kinetic energy at my disposal. And if I
survey my impression of my inner life together with my new
view of the world of plants, that most truthful ｅxpression of
the elementary conditions of life, then I perceive directly in
what sense the vitalising quality of this world differs from that
of tropical nature. External circumstances seem nowhere more
favourable to the flora than in the hothouse atmosphere of
CHAP.62 YOSEMITE VALLEY 283
Ceylon 5 nevertheless, they do not imply an optimum for life
from its own point of view. There it is never strong; the in-
dividual is not distinctly marked 5 the elements luxuriate reck-
lessly beyond the plan of the whole, the unifying link slackens,
intensity suffers. In the case of plants and human beings the
same phenomenon appears: lack of concentration together with
an abnormal capacity for expansion. The line of demarcation
between the individual and the species becomes blurred, the
individual is lost in the mass. Generations of men luxuriate
like climbing plants, products of the imagination flourish like
weeds j it is only exceptionally that creatures of clear contours,
of inner firmness and strength appear. In California every-
thing tends towards individual formation. No matter how
favourable the external circumstances may be, the inner factor
dominates. The incredibly fruitful soil produces no jungle
but single giant-trees.
The greater individualisation which distinguishes the West
compared with the East implies accordingly less limitation than
an increase of power in the possibilities of life; or, expressed
more precisely, the loss in superfluous wealth comes to benefit
the inner tension. And yet I feel it here more than ever,
just here where nature appears most kind to the Western mind,
how far the East is ahead of us. I find it excessively diffi-
cult to lead a mental existence; I succeed only with an enor-
mous effort in concentrating my mind upon the problems of
eternity; the magnificence of nature round about me hardly
finds an echo in my soul. This is due only in a small degree to
the fact that I am in a wilderness, in a world in which nothing
has ever been thought out; it is chiefly due to the intimate
processes which take place within my organism and rush into
my consciousness irresistibly. I feel myself growing once more
as if I were beginning my physical organic life anew; I feel
myself reverting to the condition when all my vital forces were
fully occupied with the formation of the body. The whole of
the spirit seems confined to the body. Accordingly, all strife is
limited materially; if I now strove to heaven I could only do so
in the sense of the fir-tree. Our world is a nursery compared
with that of the East. Curious that such things can become so
284 AMERICA PART vin
plain to one from the contemplation of trees. They are old
enough, these giants which reach out above the crust of the
earth two or three times as far as they do in Europe, but they
belong to a young race. They are a primordial ｅxpression of
life like the gigantic animals before the Flood. I would hardly
be particularly surprised here if a Megatherium crossed my
path, nor would a shudder of reverence for grey antiquity
overcome me, but rather a feeling of cheerful satisfaction at the
idea of how young this world still is.
We are more materially than spiritually minded, because we
have not yet got beyond the period of physical growth; we are
materialists as children are. For this very reason our energy
is chiefly expressed in a blind desire for activity^ If I lived
longer in this country I too would develop enterprise j my spirit
would become more and more embodied in matter, and the
idealism of the philosopher would be changed to that of the
conquistador. I cannot assert that this world is personally con-
genial to me. And yet I am quite clear about one thing: if It is
the aspiration of the spirit to penetrate the world of appearance,
if it is the mission of man to bring about this spiritualisation,
then our materialism has a greater value in the future than the
spirituality of Hindustan. This spirituality is powerless in the
fact of Nature. It does not control her; for this reason
it cannot spiritualise her. We may succeed in this. only our
path leads first into the very heart of matter. We must enter
into and pass through all that over which the East has risen
with a single leap- We must be materialists for the time being*
IN these forests no higher kind of humanity :s conceivable
than that of Cooper's heroes. The roughriders, Red Indians
and cowboys stand out magnificently against the background
of this wild scenery, in which everything is so big and broad,
and at the same time so simple j types of a more mental strain
would appear as cripples. Here one must be bold and quick,
determined and unscrupulous; the virtues of the prospector are
the cardinal virtues. How very much alive the conquistador is
still in the modern American! He practises robbery in drain-
CHAP.62 YOSEMITE VALLEY 285
ing the resources of the forests and the fields, robbery in the
same sense upon men. He is hardly less nomadic and less
untamed than the trapper was in the olden days.
I return in imagination to those boyhood days in which
nothing delighted me more than to roam about in the woods,
when the passion for hunting was my greatest joy, and when
the adventurer who travelled in distant parts of the world
embodied my highest ideal. Every real boy has passed through
this phase} it signifies the normal exponent of consciousness
during the period of strongest growth. What else is one to
aspire to when one's arms grow longer every day, except to
stretch them out further daily? And if one did not strive for
this, how should the arms gain sufficient strength? It is not
well to confess to high ideals at too early a date. Yes, the man
of the Far West seems young, indeed almost primordial. It is
in accordance with this recognition that the real weaknesses of
the Americans should be judged. Of course they are bar-
barians, and in spite of their enviably advanced institutions
they are highly dangerous for the continuance of Western
culture: but certain concepts are simply alien to the schoolboy,
he can see nothing evil in breaking a precious thing to pieces.
Of course, sometimes the effect is very comic when so imma-
ture a nation assumes the habits of a grown-up one: but I
have never yet seen a boy who did not deem himself more
wise than his parents. The foreign politics of the United
States are schoolboy politics, their poetry is the romanticism
of an upper form. And that is what it ought to be at present j
the individual who was not a proper boy never matures into a
man. And then children only fail there where they have to
deal with grown-ups, these unintelligible and ununderstand-
ing creatures; wherever they treat with one another, according
to their own natural assumptions, they generally manage
everything very wellj their greater lack of bias makes them
appear sometimes even as more wise in the absolute sense.
Thus, America has solved better than we have a good many
problems of home politics, and the public conscience there is
less corruptible. In America the masses judge just as boys
judge in moral questions: primitively, linking everything to-
286 AMERICA PART vm
gether, lock, stock and barrel, with only a few simple assump-
tions; to this extent their judgments are often unwise and gen-
erally cruel, but they are hardly ever altogether wrong.
The European often seems old to himself when he compares
himself with the American. He feels how much there is behind
him, to what extent his possible future has been restricted in
advance by his history. Many obvious improvements in our
condition, easily capable of execution in theory, will not be
realised any more unless it be by destructive violence. If this
consciousness oppresses the European, then he should think of
the East and the manner in which our world appears to him.
The Oriental sees no difference between the European and
the American, but that the latter seems more typical to him}
we too appear to him as great clumsy children, who still have
to learn a very great deal, and who have very, very much time
in front of them. And he is right. We modern Westerners
are essentially young. Even if our tradition dates back nearly
as far as that of India, to-day we represent a world which
was only created yesterday. The world-conception of prog-
ress, of democracy is something altogether new, it is hardly
nearer to the philosophy to which it succeeded than that of
China 5 and this outlook has formed us. The last hundred
years have rejuvenated the white section of humanity. By
transferring the stress in social importance from the higher to
the lower strata, who hardly participate at all in our millennial
heritage of cultural values, they effected much the same as the
invasion of the barbarians did at the beginning of our era. In
transplanting the ideal from the domain of 'being* into that of
'becoming' they have communicated even to the oldest the
modality of life of youth, in so far as the modern spirit has
taken hold of them. The whole West is to-day passing through
its wild-oats period. And is this not to be rejoiced at? one
outgrows the failings of youth; the decadence and neuras-
thenia of our day are, on the whole, not manifestations of age,
but crises of growth, like anaemia and 'Weltschmerz 7 ; that
which is regretted as increasing coarseness really means that
new primordial forces are being manifested. It is no doubt
painful to think that the historical function of the traditional
S THE MARIPOSA GROVE 287
cultured classes of old Europe is at an end 5 but at some time
or other every one must make room for the younger genera-
tion. And this abdication does not imply death j in noble
leisure, unconcerned with worldly ideals, the Western man of
culture may yet continue to flourish for a long time and thus
experience a sublimation which would never have fallen to his
lot in active life. It is even possible that it is only then that he
will achieve his greatest significance from the point of view of
the future: we should remember, when despondency overtakes
us, that it is the Jews and the Greeks, not the Goths and the
Vandals, to whom the Germanic world owes the impulses which
have given it direction ever since*
63
THE MARIPOSA GROVE
HERE stand the mightiest trees in the world. About six hun-
dred specimens of Sequoia glgantea > two to three hundred
feet high, fifteen to thirty feet thick, form a holy grove, com-
manding reverence to a greater degree than romantic fancy
could have conceived. It is dusky in there and cool, in spite
of the August sun, which stands at its zenith. Its rays hardly
find their way through the bushy crowns j the red of the trunks
glows through the twilight as if the evening light were eternal.
The giants stand there, upright and fresh, just as if thousands
of years had not passed since the day of their creation. They
are not lonely, for young people throng below themj they are
not dead to the present, for year upon year their seed falls
down to the distant earth; they are not old, for they are not
threatened by natural death.
I am overwhelmed by a wave of the prof oundest feeling of
happiness. The earth is not as yet feeble from age! It is still
capable of preserving and creating mighty things! For the
first time I look up to grandeur without melancholy. Never
before have I contemplated in palaeontological collections the
remains of prehistoric magnificence without bitterness, nor
have I ever thought without pain of the giants which our
288 AMERICA PART vm
era produces every now and again from atavism or acci-
dent: for to me it seemed only too certain that the creative
power of our planet is dying out, that soon only dwarfs and
cripples will be able to continue upon it. Now I see that the
youngest of the continents still possesses the primordial power
of primitive days. I gratefully greet it therefore as the refuge
of our future.
Humanity has never been so dependent upon physical con-
ditions as are the white men of to-day; that is because they
have set themselves a problem as no one else before them; they
want to continue to change themselves ad indefinitum. Instead
of setting themselves limits in given circumstances, they strive
to get beyond them all so that no successful effort means an
ultimate end to them. But only the youthful body is capable of
changing and adapting itself, and that only to a certain point;
for this reason all grown-ups become crystallised sooner or
later, all civilised nations have ceased their development at
some point, leaving further innovations to younger blood. For
us no such boundary is visible in idea; the peculiarly fluid char-
acter of our civilisation makes every fixed aim and all stagna-
tion seem inconceivable, it demands a new attitude every
moment, and exacts that every one who wishes to join in must
remain adaptable. This, however, means that he must remain
completely young for the whole of his life. Thus, our problem
is primarily a physical one. Many suspect this: the physical
is idealised to-day as it has never been before. Gospels are
preached in which health occupies the central position, just as
love does in the Christian gospels. But what these apostles
generally forget js that man as a physical being is profoundly
interwoven in. his connection with nature, and can do little
without it. ^Even rejuvenation succeeds rarely except through
transplantation into younger soil: eternal youth is only con-
ceivable in a world which remains eternally young itself. In
order to find ^bodies such as we need to-day, of boundless
power of tension, of unfailing plasticity, an endlessly vitalis-
ing outer world would be needed, young as creation was upon
the fifth day. This seems to exist here; American nature
possesses the creative power of the beginning of time in an
S THE MARIPOSA GROVE 289
unweakened state. Just as it has succeeded in fusing diverse
races and making Americans of types chosen at random in
the shortest period not merely a variety of human beings,
but a real type so it may be expected of American nature
that it can create the body which is a match for the constantly
increasing mental tension, and which would 'be capable of
perpetual change.
In America, if anywhere, we will complete our evolution.
Europe will soon have spoken its last word of historical impor-
tance. Tradition in itself is a fetter, which becomes more bind-
ing from generation to generation, and ultimately suffocating,
and the history of Europe is already so long that a radical
liberation and innovation will hardly be successful upon its
soil, not even if its inhabitants become ever so rejuvenated and
attempt to evade the catastrophe, even through the most vio-
lent revolutions. This time too the old truth will be proved,
that new cultures only flourish upon new soil} in this latest
historical crisis too the problem of new forms will be solved,
not by the most mature but by those who are the crudest.
And that it must be so is quite obvious in this case: when we
Westerners undertook, unlike all previous cultures who con-
ducted life subject to the realm of ideas, to impress this realm
upon the domain of the earth, we were really beginning a new
epoch of creation 5 we begin as beings of spirit and soul pre-
cisely where physical nature started in the Triadic epoch. For
this reason, the man of the New World fits into the Sequoia
grove, this oasis of prehistoric days, better than into the ruins
of Rome.
I look along the gigantic trees: how symbolic their mani-
festation is! Personalities like theirs need roomj they cannot
live as closely together as lesser beings, they are necessarily
exclusive and haughty. The underwood of the Mariposa
Grove, crippled and hopeless, would undoubtedly, if it could
think, raise the social question. In the tropics this would
never occur to it. There it is not individualised sufficiently
to strive beyond the original cohesion of nature, and it is there-
fore hardly conscious of possible oppression. Why has the
ideal of equality inflamed the West, whereas it has never yet
290 AMERICA PART vm
found honest supporters among the most oppressed Orientals?
Because evolution leads us towards ever-increasing inequality}
in the East, on the other hand, the greatest equality of oppor-
tunity exists which seems conceivable upon earth: the condi-
tion in which every one, no matter who he is, must remain ^in
the station into which he was born, where no one has special
opportunities. In the modern West every one may desire the
highest position he can conceive; this, of course, is attained only
by very few, and the rest thereupon demur. Our method of
putting the problems of life is not false, but it precludes ^ an
ultimate solution. If one does not wish to recognise a condition
of static equilibrium in unalterably disparate conditions of life,
then one must continue to advance for ever, for equality in the
sense of a static condition of equilibrium, of unalterably equal
conditions of life cannot exist; it contradicts the nature ^of
things. The modern Occidental attitude to the problem of life
equal opportunity for every one brings eternal struggle
with it.
64
THE GRAND CANNON OF COLORADO
IN front of the immense picture of the Grand Canon I must
think of Kant's definition of the sublime: that object is
sublime whose contemplation moves the mind to interpret the
unattainableness of nature as the representation of ideas, Here,
the ideas which control inorganic events appear expressed
with a distinctness and power and 'largesse' as nowhere else.
Here, one single stream in restless work has furrowed out a
wide, high plateau so deeply and thoroughly that man, looking
down from the cornice of the Canon, that is to say from the
original bed of the river, upon the present one, perceives a
similar picture to that of the Himalayas; when looking
heavenwards from their forerunners what he sees there is
an Alpine landscape in the nether world. This work of
a peacefully gliding stream produces a grander effect than any-
thing which the powers of Plato have ever achieved, because it
CHAP.64 THE GRAND CAftON 291
was done without any extraordinary means 5 here one recog-
nises, in fearful reverence, how omnipotent the forces of every
day are. In the Grand Canon of the Colorado the lines along
which events proceed appear with incomparable clarity, for the
decisive series of causes is hardly interfered with by others.
Here no catastrophe has prepared the way, here no life has
rounded off the edges or covered them with a fresh coat of
paint. Everything has been undertaken and executed on the
grandest scale. The Colorado has cut through all geological
formations, from the glacial to the archaic. Acting only by
virtue of its momentum and gravity, it has proceeded with but
a single aim towards its goal, without any other tools than those
which it possessed by nature, without petty considerations or
violence. Where its course lay open before it, it spread out,
thus changing whole provinces of flat country into mountain
land} where only one course was in question, there it has col-
lected its power and translated expansion into tension} every-
where, however, as in God's first creation, the result was good.
Here the idea of hydraulic power, as Plato would say, has
found its perfect ｅxpression. This power is lifeless: this could
hardly be expressed symbolically more impressively than is the
case here, in this greatest of all geological revelations, in which
the stream has eaten its way through the life of all time. The
inorganic forces tend downward, they run down like clock-
work, incapable of winding themselves up again by themselves:
no grander image of this state of things could be conceived
than the Canon provides, where the mountains belong to Hades
and have not been piled up but cut out. There is no living
spirit behind this achievement, and no purpose appears. It was
begun and perfected without plan, and yet it is a monument of
the very highest wisdom. The stream has overcome every
obstacle as cleverly as any technician, it has understood the
peculiarity of the materials more profoundly than any architect,
and it has established the necessary relation between the details
and the whole no worse than the greatest of landscape painters.
The reason is, that the laws of calculating intellect are no other
than the laws of the order of the world itself 5 nature always
acts in accordance with reason} it does not require reasonable
292 AMERICA PART vm
guidance. Thus, perfection is its destiny everywhere where it
is allowed to complete what it has begun.
The Grand Canon of the Colorado is not only beautiful in
this sense: the severe lines drawn by cosmic reason shimmer
in a magnificence of colour which no Venetian could have
made richer, and no Turner could have invented more imagi-
natively. This dead world seems to partake of eternal life.
Every moment it expresses new moods, every hour its char-
acter changes. What differentiates the beauty that we strive
after from that which is so magnificently realised in dead
nature? In the one case it is a mechanical result 5 the cosmos
is the final condition of chaos, there is nothing beyond it. The
ideal of beauty is a propelling force, it points us towards
heaven. The last word of nature, its testament as it were, is
the magic formula which opens higher worlds to the spirit.
The delicate fusible colours play upon the deeply furrowed
face of the Grand Canon like a smile. Is not many a human
visage more transfigured in the sleep of death than ever it was
in life? I imagine that, just as to-day we men stand reverently
before this miracle of death, so one day higher transfigured
spirits will hover in devotion above the corpse of our earth.
Our mightiest monuments will still stand out long after men
have passed away. Occasionally the rays of a redder sun will
lend them verisimilitude of life. Perhaps the actions of the
spirit will be most grand in effect when eternal death shall
have taken the place of the restlessness of life.
I GAZE down meditatively into the nether world, Kant
speaks of the unattainableness of nature, which is sublime in
effect. . . . But is nature unattainable? Has man not ex-
celled it already? Does he not achieve in a single year what
the coloured stream has achieved in a million? To-morrow he
will certainly succeed in principle. Material obstacles are
no longer insurmountable. Even the wish of Archimedes,
his 5og pot Ttov <r<ro, will one day be fulfilled. At the end of
time this planet, in order to escape the disgrace of disruption,
will perhaps burst freely at a time chosen by itself.
CHAP.64 THE GRAND CANON 293
However, the man of to-day does not rule as God, but as the
spirit of the earth. Materially he dominates nature, he is not
superior to itj instead of guiding it in accordance with his own
ideals, he generally only does what the elements themselves
demand from him. He resembles those river-gods in which
the ancients believed, whose dominating will corresponded
with the natural gradient. Man is even less wise than they
were in so far as he takes the circumstances less into account,
so that his works are less beautiful and less permanent 5 if he
had excavated the Grand Canon, it would not be a miracle of
beauty, it would have resembled a factory in ruin, and the
ruin would not stand there for long. Modern man allows his
aspirations to be dictated by blind nature, whose own will he
only understands in part. Disposing over unlimited forces, he
strives towards infinity, forgetful of the fact that his life is
strictly confined. He suits his ideal to his ability instead of
vice versa 5 he wants infinite wealth, infinite power, and as he
does not know how to utilise them for himself, he pledges
himself to them. Money becomes an end in itself to the busi-
ness man, and he sacrifices himself to itj the same is true of
power in the case of nations} the interests of capital perpetrate
misdeeds unconsciously which no criminal would perform
deliberately. The struggle for power of states, expressed in
armaments, leads to wars of destruction, although all indi-
viduals only want peace. What centuries have erected organi-
cally is destroyed in the course of seconds 5 what conscious will
has created serves the spirit, not of life but of dead matter.
Our age is one of destruction as no other before has been, be-
cause man employs forces which are too big for him.
The Mahatmas, the peaceful supermen of the Himavat, have
always controlled these forces } but they hand on their secrets
only to the Chela who knows how to utilise them beneficently.
But now they have been betrayed to the blind masses. . . ,
Still, this is not to be regretted as things are to-day. In an age
where there are no differences of class, where the cry is: equal
opportunities for every one! it is no longer possible for men
to participate only in that for which they are inwardly mature 5
they must rather become mature by experience. The hardness
294
AMERICA PART vm
of his training ultimately makes wise even the fool. And it
undoubtedly implies, where the problem is to instruct, not
single individuals but every one, the shortest way to^this goaL
Experimental science has done more for the emancipation of
the masses than the wisdom of the adepts; that liberty which
allows every one to perpetrate his follies has furthered them
more rapidly than Brahmanic tutelage. Thus, it is precisely
the abuse of the forces of nature which will lead most rapidly
to their wise exploitation. When the means of destruction have
grown all too big, no people will declare war light-heartedly;
the consequences of unlimited expansion will prove clearly
that man was bora to self-limitation. The nature of things
leads everywhere to precisely that which the recognition of the
sages has anticipated.
Therefore, we must not despair; our future is bright, no
matter what terrible trials will be visited upon us in the mean-
time. once man has learned to govern the forces outside him-
self, as the wise man controls his passions, then the spirit of
the earth will be changed into a demigod- Then the blind
forces will be a grateful means of realising the ideal in appear-
ance.
65
THROUGH CALIFORNIA
WHILE the train is bearing me through the fruit-fields of
California, I am reminded of Mong-Tse's opinion: it is
better to wait for fair weather than to acquire good tools to
plough with. If the inhabitants had thought so, California,
to-day the garden of the earth, would have remained a desert;
nature intended it to be one. The rain is so scarce that only
desert plants, Yuccas and dwarf -pines, flourish on their own;
the soil is dried up by the sun; the waters, which rush down in
the spring and the autumn from the Sierra Nevada, have long
ago dug out deep beds for themselves and no longer moisten
the wide plains. But man has pointed new ways to them; where
they are insufficient he pumps up the necessary moisture from
CHAP.65 CALIFORNIA 295
artificial wells, thus, California is to-day perhaps the most
fruitful district in the world. That is our Western feeling for
nature, as opposed to that of the Far East. We do not submit
to the existing conditions, we change them. But in order to
attain this we must have understood Nature profoundly} she
may be subjugated and governed only according to her own
laws. Thus, we too are not strangers to her heart. only our
attitude to her is different. The Easterner possesses the most
intimate understanding of her. The Chinaman looks up to her
like a loving son, who, full of piety arid self-sacrifice, gladly
bears even paternal cruelty and never permits himself any
criticism j the Japanese treats her as one woman friend treats
another} he countenances her, loves her as she is, but he helps
her to show herself to best advantage as far as possible. Our
understanding is comparable with that of the schoolmaster.
We become absorbed in her peculiarity, but only for the pur-
pose of changing her in accordance with our own ideals. She
is to be different, to be better than she was. Like all school-
masters, we suffer from a lack of understanding for the indi-
vidual element. We do succeed in breeding general types
that is to say, arable land, fields, meadows, forests as such,
officials for special functions and we even can bring an aver-
age nature to its highest perfection (a fertile meadow is more
beautiful than a barren one), but in accordance with the usual
schoolmaster's fate we do not succeed in treating an exceptional
nature according to its own necessities. Wherever absolute
appropriateness is attained, beauty is the inevitable result.
American stretches of cultivated country are generally ugly,
because no consideration is taken of the peculiarity of its
nature.
But that will come. The Americans are still children, great
clumsy boys in the midst of their hobbledehoyhood. It cannot
be expected of them that they should be as considerate as the
men of the Far East. They will become so in the course of
time. For it is a misunderstanding that our relation to nature
must necessarily destroy beautyj it does so only because we have
not yet traversed our road to the end. The Japanese art of
agriculture delights the eye because in it the specifically Japa-
296 AMERICA PART vm
nese relation between man and nature finds its perfect expres-
sion not because this relation is the most favourable in itself.
Whether I act as a determined or determining factor is a
matter of indifference in principle} all that matters is that
I should discover harmonious proportion. And we will all
succeed in doing this one day, just as we have often succeeded
already in detail. It is wrong to compare the attitude of the
European's scientific understanding with the artistic understand-
ing of the Asiatic: the scientific attitude is the more prelimi-
nary. If the Japanese had not observed acutely as a research
student, he would never have attained the technique which
makes him incomparable as a gardener. The scientific trait in
him is less noticeable because he has not gone so far as we have,
and has applied himself to productive synthesis at an earlier
stage. We penetrate farther into nature} we have hardly yet
begun with creative synthesis. But once we are so far, and are
sufficiently mature that joy in nature predominates over greed,
then I do not doubt that we will be able to present the specific
relation which we occupy to the non-human elements no less
perfectly than the Japanese represent theirs.
66
IN THE YELLOWSTONE PARK
I LOOK, out upon the wide prairie from a shimmering cinder-
hill, which the geysers have piled up in the course of thou-
sands of years. It is the hour in which the bisons start their
nightly wanderings. They proceed singly, each one by him-
self and at considerable distances from each other; but all steer
the same course unerringly, like wandering birds. What is it
which gives these animals complete knowledge of the country?
I do not know} probably no one knows. For men too who
possess the same faculty do not know either.
A few decades ago a single herd of buffaloes numbered not
infrequently several thousand head; to-day not one hundred
live in the wide plain of Yellowstone Park, and in the whole of
America there are fewer than used to make up one average-
CKAP.66 YELLOWSTONE PARK 297
sized herd. We have exterminated them. And as I watch the
last of these giants, which fit so admirably into the prairie, I
tremble with anger. How poor the world is becoming for our
sake! We do, of course, fence in wide tracts of country in the
interests of animals, and we appoint districts to the redskins;
but this does not put a stop to their destruction. The buffaloes
perish inside the fences, the Indians degenerate since they are
no longer allowed to wage war; both are inevitably dying out.
Soon all picturesque types will belong to the past; soon the
whole surface of the earth will resemble the intensely culti-
vated land of Central Germany everything divided up
equally, laid out according to a pattern, inhabited only by men
and thoroughbred cattle. I know: without committing suicide
we will not be able to prevent this effect which we exercise.
But what blindness to regard such 'progress* as a happy issue!
It is simply appalling that the earth is becoming more uniform
from day to day. For this does not mean a change of the
existing energy, but an absolute loss of energy, because there
is no substitute in the place of what is lost. Life is not trans-
mutable in the same sense as electricity. Every type means
something final, every one of them incarnates a possibility
which exists only once and will never exist again. No matter,
therefore, how blessed the race of Europeans, of cows, of
horses and of prize pigs may be in future it would not
fill the gap which the eradication of other manifestations has
eaten into creation. The world is growing poorer every day.
That this is the real meaning of progress, America illustrates
with horrifying clarity, because here the white man seems typi-
fied most strongly as the c man with a purpose.' Nowhere is
nature as magnificent as it is here; everything here has been
created on a large scale, everything great is capable of life,
only greatness is appropriate to the circumstances; this funda-
mental state of affairs would, so one could have supposed, em-
brace all values created by the mind: instead of that, they have
all been lost sight of with the single exception of quantity*
only size and numbers impress the American; he only strives
after them. This impoverishment of his soul is the necessary
and inevitable consequence of the exclusive struggle after sue-
298 AMERICA PART vm
cess. And what he does is becoming more and more the aspira-
tion of Europe. Even to-day a widespread new philosophy
has proclaimed the 'economic principle' as the ideal of thought
and thus raised what is a matter of course to the highest
goal. We are becoming ever narrower and poorer, and this
narrowness exterminates all wealth. Every definite line of
development is exclusive, but the one we pursue is probably
the first which destroys the others involuntarily. It is burdened
with the curse of possessing such great power over the blind
forces of nature that it must destroy even where it would pre-
serve. The modern white man takes more conscious delight in
nature than any other man, he is more profoundly interested
than any one else in the peculiarity of alien phenomena; never-
theless, wherever he turns, that which he is not or does not
need dies out irremediably.
Aryan European humanity has not much less destruction
and murder on its conscience than that of Turkey and Mon-
golia, although the latter alone has perhaps practised destruc-
tion as an end in itself. The Romans erected their world
empire upon the ruins of the old and peculiar states of the
Mediterranean. Thereupon, the Germanic people dismantled
the whole structure. Their offspring destroyed the cultural
creation of the Arabs, then that of the Incas and the Aztecs.
And if intentions have improved since then, our means of de-
struction have become so perfect, and our civilisation in itself
has, moreover, become so deadly for all who are not born
in and for it, that the opposite is true of the result. Hegel
teaches that stepping over corpses is the way in which the
'objective spirit 5 had to walk in order to reach fulfilment}
that the leading nation of the day alone is of consequence,
as the bearer of the 'idea,' and therefore justified in sub-
jugating or exterminating all the others: he would be right if
historical significance really contained all values within it.
However, quite apart from the fact that this significance cannot
be ascertained at all without prejudice, a prejudice, moreover,
subject to the very'doubtful assumption that whatever happens
was for the best and bound to happen anyhow, which assump-
tion implies that material success expresses the judgment of
CHAP.66 YELLOWSTONE PARK 299
God it may be regarded as certain that historical leadership
possesses no necessary relation whatever to spiritual and mental
importance. India and China, both of enormous importance,
have not played any part in the movement of world history as
Hegel understands it. That Christ and Buddha became the
bearers of historical power seems accidental in relation to them-
The historical process in itself is of a piece with the bio-
logical process; this is so notwithstanding the fact that among
men not only physical but also psychic organisms (ideals, the
contents of faith) supplement and fight each other. Since the
ideal process, which in itself is independent of the biological
process, nevertheless takes place by means of it, a relation
between both can be established on an a posteriori basis wher-
ever action takes place* But essentially such a relation does
not exist; the biological element is only a means, and if its
laws are raised to ideals it causes mischief. It leads to views
which are unworthy of human beings, such as that there is
no higher entity than the state, that power is an aim in itself,
that any means is permissible in the intercourse between na-
tions, that a certain race has the right to enslave all the others,
and that the modern homo technicus fulfils the very will of
God in ruining the whole of creation for purposes of his per-
sonal enrichment. Power, in the sense of being able and will-
ing to compel others by force, far from implying something
good in itself (which all believers in progress must tacitly pre-
suppose, for only thanks to material power does HegePs 'idea,*
as well as 'Christian' civilisation, succeed), is rather, as Jakob
Burckhardt has so far recognised most profoundly, essentially
evil and it also makes men evil. No power on earth has ever
been founded without crime, not one has been maintained
without some form of violence 5 the law of its life is of a
fiendish, not of a divine kind. For this reason it is not nor
will it ever be possible to establish a natural and necessary
connection between earthly power and what is good in the
moral and spiritual sense. Our Western civilisation, as the
most powerful in the worldly sense which has ever existed,
is by nature not good but evil: for this reason it not only brings
destruction to all those who do not know how to adapt them-
300 AMERICA PART vm
selves to it it also corrupts the bearers. This typical result
is obviated where power serves to realise spiritual and moral
ideals, and fortunately it serves to do so more and more.
Wherever man gives himself up to his own spirit, he turns into
a devil.
Now it is certain that evil has its definite and necessary
function in the economy of the world. Destruction alone pre-
pares the way for a radical innovation. If there is to be serious
progress, then the natural processes of growth and decay must
occasionally be accelerated. only revolution explodes old rigid
forms, only the premature end of generations, such as war
brings about, rends the thread of fettering tradition. World-
embracing cultures would never have come to exist if one
species of men had not subjugated others and thus raised
certain forms out of the jungle of wild luxuriance to pre-
dominance. Last and not least death and killing are normal
processes of nature. Beasts of prey must plunder, and they
seem no less entitled to existence than those who only consume
plants. The acceleration and increase of the turnover of life
occasioned by wars, catastrophes and plagues, alter quali-
tatively nothing in the nature of events, and, quantitatively,
very little in so far as there is a law of compensation in most
thingsj the succession of faunas and floras in the course of
geological epochs proves already by itself that every definite
manifestation must necessarily die out at some time or another,
and whether this occurs slowly, through the power of changing
circumstances, or suddenly, through the invasion of an Attila,
is probably a matter of indifference. The eternal values are
essentially mortal in the temporal sense. The Indian myth,
according to which creation and destruction are correlative
attributes of the deity, is apparently very near to the truth: at
times evil is divinely ordained. only man should not usurp
the position of Shiva j what is befitting to Him man may not
desire deliberately j the inevitability of death does not justify
the murderer. Just as birth and natural death are beyond the
sphere of personal volition, so does the general scheme accord-
ing to which the whole of life evolves stand above individual
CHAP.66 YELLOWSTONE PARK 301
judgment. In the domain of senseless creatures this scheme
attains to perfect realisation wherever cosmic actions or human
whims do not cross its path; the self -regulation of nature works
with marvellous wisdom. The same thing would happen
among men if each individual did what was appropriate to him.
Then God would express Himself through the free volition
of human beings, all that was requisite from God's standpoint
would be done, no necessary conflict, no fate would be omitted,
but the individual would be without metaphysical guilt, and
judged by general results everything would contribute to the
best. But men only do rarely what they ought to do, all the
more rarely the more consciously they act. And where they
undertake to determine events, believing themselves to know
the plan of the whole, they work mischief. All this leads to
insensate wars, to all-exterminating evolutions; the self -regu-
lation of nature is destroyed and folly gains the victory. In
this way white men have made havoc upon earth in many, in all
too many directions.
And yet their activity in other directions is divinely willed.
Obviously the general equilibrium of forces has been changed
in the sense that we, in so far as we affirm ourselves at all, must
predominate; obviously much which is valuable and which we
destroy is anyhow no longer capable of life in our world j
evidently the time has come in which something new is being
born at the expense of the old forms of life, be they ever so
beautiful; and no argument can resist fate. This, however,
means that there really is something which one might call the
'right of the stronger.' It is as little a question here of moral
right as in any other equation of material forces: on the con-
trary, violation practised upon living beings is always evil,
every act of violence as such is a blow in the face of justice,
and the most just execution or penalty offends the moral sense
in some way or another. But forces are realities which express
themselves according to their own laws; on their level of
existence they alone are valid. And however often evil van-
quishes good, and crudeness perfection, no matter how fre-
quently moral consciousness is thereby wounded and thought
302
AMERICA PART vin
fails in the attempt to understand the meaning of necessity
sometimes it is possible to realise the beneficial quality of what
is evil in itself, not only in small matters, as in the case of the
compulsion of law and penalty, but even on a great scale.
This applies particularly to the c right of the stronger.' His-
tory teaches that the most violent tribes have often developed
into cultured nations with the highest moral outlook. This
is to be explained, unless I am mistaken, in the following
manner: physical superiority is only durable upon a moral
basis. Without courage, strength achieves nothing} without
readiness for sacrifice, discipline, organisation, even courage is
of no avail. No matter how one-sided the advantages at issue
may be they demark the natural basis which ^ seems most
capable of a continued development towards the highest. The
Germanic people, who destroyed the old world, were rough
and cruel, but they were also courageous, loyal and ready to
sacrifice^ this enabled them, given their talents, to become con-
tinuously better in the course of centuries, whereas Greeks and
Romans, who were refined but cowardly and false, perished
through degeneration. only the proud individual who respects
himself respects others tooj if the most justly minded people
of Europe could have developed from the violent Anglo-
Saxon, this is due to the fact that all virtue begins with the
ego and enlarges its circle from there, that the primitive faith
in personal prerogative is the seed of all sense of justice
in general whereas among the Russians, who have always
been good-hearted and never recognised a right for them-
selves of oppressing others, for whom the spiritual vision of
original Christianity is born in their blood, arbitrariness reigns
supreme even to-day. The nature of the strong alone assures
to the spiritual powers means of embodiment pregnant with a
promising future. To this extent, as long as earthly develop-
ment continues, all the more so whenever it is started afresh,
there will also be a right of the stronger.
. . . This is how the intellect judges. But as an aesthetic
being, I regret with all my heart that the processes of the world
take this and not another course. I would gladly sacrifice all
technical achievements that I might behold for a single eve-
CHAP.66 YELLOWSTONE PARK 303
ning the prairie in all its old magnificence, just as it was
before the paleface declared the war of extermination upon
the redskin.
IN these wild and vitalising surroundings I become ever more
conscious of the violent and aggressive quality of humanity.
We Westerners are essentially fighters. Whereas the China-
man believes in a predetermined harmony between man and
the cosmos, which must be preserved at any price, whereas the
Indian, no matter what he does, withholds himself and does
not participate inwardly in the struggle for existence, we stand
by conviction in the midst of it. We do not trouble ourselves
about the whole, we are and want to be elements and wish to
fight our way through as such. The worst and the best in us
emanate from this fighting spirit. Our lust for conquest and
piracy originate from it, but also the movement towards re-
form, science, social conscience. Because we are essentially
fighters, we accept no authority unquestioningly, we wish to
investigate freely, every one wants to decide for himself. The
warrior knows no compromise, his will is to conquer or to be
vanquished, his motto is: you or L
As long as I was in the East, our fighting nature appeared
to me in an unfavourable light. How could it be otherwise?
The fighter is essentially destructive, essentially blind, preju-
diced, unjust, without understanding. The sage and the
whole of life is directed by him in the East never fights j he
stands above parties, surveying the cohesion of all manifesta-
tions, personally centred in it, and he would be untrue to
himself if he identified himself with any appearance. But
whence his superiority? I never put this question to myself
in the East. If I answer it now, it becomes evident that I did
injustice to the West. For the colourless sceptic, the indiffer-
ent, cold, undecided individual is not the sage: on the con-
trary, of all beings, the ready sceptic is furthest removed from
the sage. If the sage does not fight, this is not due to the
fact that he rejects all struggle to begin with as purposeless, but
because he has finished his fights, because he has overcome all
AMERICA PART vm
dissensions between himself and the world; the process of
discussion which generally takes place outside and hardly ever
leads to a final result, has been completed for him in the still-
ness of his soul. And by means of this recognition I only per-
ceive now the whole profundity of the Indian myth, according
to which the Kshattrya, the knight, is preliminary to the
Brahmin: there is no recognition without fight; only the^man
who has fought gallantly as a warrior is mature for the divine
peace of wisdom. m
This is explained by the fact that the decision of a battle is
not merely a mechanical result ? but simultaneously brings
about an organic change. If convictions in general are affirmed
clearly only after discussion has taken place, if people, after
arms have decided, readily accept changes in power which but
lately they regarded as unacceptable, when the^ man who was
always strong grows into a hero only in adversity, this is due
to the fact that souls become changed in battle. And they can
only become changed in this way. Mere theoretical insight
does not influence our inner nature. No matter how clearly
one may recognise the necessity of a new order, one may yet
be incapable of carrying it out in practice j one may recognise
all virtue and yet remain a blackguard- Christ and Buddha
were probably in intellectual possession of their wisdom long
before revelation was vouchsafed to them 5 nevertheless, their
mission dates only from this hour. And this hour was one
of bitter strife. Tempted by the Evil one, both had to van-
quish him first: then, not before, were they free. This means
that only then their human souls had been changed so far that
they could serve as a tool for supra-human knowledge-
It is given to one among millions to become a Buddha, very
few can rise considerably above the point of their departure;
for this reason, a static order of society which does tolerable
justice to the classes of natural rank, presents the most satis-
factory picture at any given time. The individual, guided by
his type, finds his perfection easily, and on the whole harmony
prevails. But such an order does not permit any progress:
only the born sage becomes wise in it, every one remains at the
CHAP.66 YELLOWSTONE PARK 305
level which nature appointed for him, humanity does not move
at all from where it stands. In a world of strife all possibili-
ties are open to every one. When everybody stands for what
he thinks right with complete sincerity, striving after that to
which he believes himself to be called, he tests by direct experi-
ence what is in him, and thus gives every opportunity of de-
velopment to every seed. And when every one tests himself in
the same way, an adjustment takes place on a large scale which
necessarily leads forward. The nature of things implies that
every mistake revenges itself at some time or another, that
everything false ultimately proves itself to be so, that every-
thing rotten decays one day, and, on the other hand, that every-
thing of value justifies its worth and that every truth proves
itself provided that such nature is given the opportunity of
expressing itself. This opportunity is there as soon as man has
the courage of daring. Since the individual fighters are always
blind, the process proves little enough in the individual case.
Reactionaries and revolutionaries, socialists and individualists,
blind believers and freethinkers however many factors there
may be whose opposition goes to make up the dialectics of mod-
ern evolution they are all right in some part, and they are
all wrong on the whole. Each one of them is only an ele-
ment in a gigantic process, whose plan no mortal may survey,
and no one ever achieves that for which he has battled. But
no fight was ever in vain. Every man of ideal tendencies plays
his part, no matter how modestly, in the improvement of the
world, every resistance against evil weakens its power, every
sacrifice benefits the future. And the whole develops con-
stantly in spite of all reaction in an upward direction, which
is guided by the nature of things, in the sense that the improve-
ments of conditions which are possible at a given time and in
a given place actually occur. Neither the men of 1790 nor
those of 1 848 achieved what they strove after, and it was well
that this was so, for they desired much that was foolish; but
thanks to them we are considerably farther on than they were.
The Socialistic doctrine, as such, is mistaken, only without it we
would not yet be so close to the juster order of rights which
306 AMERICA PART vni
seems possible now. 1 Progress is only possible in a struggling
world 5 in a static and peaceful one there is no evolution.
Every individual should only be sincere and upright, should
have the courage to err, to commit a folly, to be limited and
even to perpetrate a crime; the nature of things, or, as it is
expressed in the Indian manner, the law of Karma, will pro-
vide for the rest. The way of the fighter seems very mechani-
cal, and so it is; the individual figures here only as an element,
without understanding his aim; and salvation comes from with-
out." However, a higher path is not practicable for the masses.
More developed individuals may wander upon the path of
recognition or of love for the others, only Karma-Yoga is in
question. The Karma- Yoga which has been invented and is
practised by us is the most profound of all. In it we are not
concerned with tacit surrender to presupposed forms, to the
expected reaction of dogmata, exercises, rites, but with self-
sacrificing initiative. And no conceivable Yoga could lead the
majority of men more quickly to their goal. No matter how
boastful the assertion may be on the whole, that we have got so
gloriously far it must be admitted that, since our more accel-
erated evolution has begun, an incredible amount has been
achieved. one should remember the position of the lower
English, or even Irish, classes a hundred years ago, the posi-
tion of factory workers everywhere even a shorter while ago,
and think at the same time of the reaction which their misery
exercised upon their souls: no one can then deny that to-day
we are living in a new and better world, a world not merely
of greater prosperity but of nobler outlook. This, however,
has been created by struggle alone, by self-assertive egoism;
it would have remained uncreated if the Chinese love of order,
or the primitive Christian non-resistance to evil, had guided
men's will-power. In a world of struggle egoism leads most
rapidly to the goal. How is this possible when it ultimately
implies a misunderstanding? For this very reason: the nature
of things proves egoism to be a misconception, and transforms
it; cut-throat competition necessarily leads, sooner or later,
1 See my criticism of Socialism and also the outlines of the new order as
I perceive it, in my book Politik, Wirtschaft, Weisheit, Darmstadt, 1922.
CHAP.66 YELLOWSTONE PARK 30?
to collaboration. Just as the iron-factories of Belgium and
Germany, which fought each other ^ at the beginning of this
century, arrived at an agreement which allowed each party to
the contract to produce a certain quantity and no more, so it
will be eventually everywhere in our world, precisely because
we are born to violence.
In this way the significance and peculiarity of modern West-
ern culture may be defined exhaustively by one concept: it is
the culture of sincerity. We admit more than any one else
what we want and what we are. Whatever we may countenance
temporarily really and ultimately we believe in ourselves
alone, and we do not rest until our position in and to the world
is in agreement with our individual convictions. Accordingly,
loyalty to conviction and empirical truthfulness are among
our highest ideals. We do not know, as the Indians do, how
to unite externally metaphysical truth and telling lies, or, like
the Chinese, how to maintain a prescribed outer order without
breach of faith, without even questioning to what extent it
corresponds to ourselves: according to our view, we regard it
as better to perish as the result of personal mistakes than to
serve a truth we have not understood, better to lie, in the
metaphysical sense, by the courageous practice of what we
believe than to pronounce an empirical untruth. Here too
we are guided by the fundamental idea which lies at the bottom
of all Western cultural manifestations, that it is the mission of
man to embody significance in appearance.
In China I contemplated the disadvantages of sincerity. ^ It
advances the individual less than blind surrender to something
outside him, if this coincides with an objective optimum, and
in so far as personal opinion is erroneous 5 in this sense our
crudeness is largely due to our sincerity. But our barbarism,
on the other hand, has more future than any culture based upon
authority, because courage and truthfulness, and they alone,
necessarily lead forward, because, above all, they alone acceler-
ate the processes of evolution. According to the nature of
things, even our mistakes must turn to blessings.
I pass in review the history of our sciences and philosophies,
How many bypaths have we not trodden, and how many
3o8 AM E RICA PART vin
detours have we not embarked upon! How many preliminary
statements have we not honoured as the final word, with how
many one-sided formulas have we not imagined that we have
exhausted the significance of the world! But every mistake
nevertheless resulted in some good. Whereas some recognise
only Being, others only Becoming, every possibility was worked
out so clearly in the fight between the various schools that their
connection seems perfectly plain to-day. While revolutionaries
condemn all traditional morals, and raise selfishness as their
banner quite candidly, they force the others to discover the
reason for their opposite convictions, with the result that truth
is all the more firmly established, and many an error is eradi-
cated. We owe it to the enmity against the Church, to free-
thinking and anti-religiosity that to-day at last the significance
of religious faith is beginning to be recognised, with the result
that what used to be the dark content of blind belief is be-
coming clear recognition. Every criticism brings a blessing in
the long run, no matter how one-sided it may be, no matter
how much beauty it may destroy at the moment. For here
too it is a case of: die and be born again (Stirb und werde)!
New life arises only from the decayed seed, only out of the
decay of what has been accepted blindly does clear knowledge
grow. If man is to become autonomous, completely responsible
for everything which he wills, thinks and does, then he must
also be completely conscious of his causes and reasons. He
must explode all dogmas as such, he must renounce all preju-
dice, all reinsurance in racial experience. The recent age was
dedicated to this process. The mental cosmos has thus retro-
gressed once more into chaos, which foments and boils, and
what will ultimately come of it cannot be anticipated in detail.
But the general goal is certain by now: our culture of sincerity
must lead to the result that the harmony based upon heter-
onomy is becoming transformed into one based upon autonomy,
that all truth which was accepted previously on the strength
of authority will become personal recognition, and that per-
sonal self -consciousness will become altogether the bearer of
the will of humanity. And this alone can lead thither. No
matter what pleasant pictures of accomplished perfection the
CHAP.66 YELLOWSTONE PARK 309
Indian, Chinese and Catholic Christian systems may offer
they contain no possibility of evolution. only along our path
can a new order develop. 1
The youngest and most typical Westerner, the American, is
the most sincere of all human beings 5 this redeems his lack
of culture. His potentialities are unlimited. No matter how
little preliminary states as such can stand comparison with
perfection in a world of growth they have a right to exist-
ence. And ultimately these preliminary states are closer in
idea to the supreme conceivable consummation than Indian
perfection is. I recall to mind my observations concerning
its peculiarity: the Indians, profoundly conscious of signifi-
cance, never find it necessary to take into consideration, in ex-
pressing it, the particular meaning of the means employed,
they never demand the congruity of both levels of meaning.
For this reason they regard facts and inventions, realities and
myths, lies and truths, superstitions and precise knowledge as
equal, if only significance as such appears to have been seized.
But this can only be realised completely where it permeates
appearance throughout, where no kind of opposition exists
between the inside and the outside. 2 For this reason, inven-
tions and facts, lies and truths are not of equal value 5 contra-
dictions within the sphere of ｅxpression rob significance of its
efficacy; hence the failure of the Indians in practical life and
as men. The Westerner is a fanatic of exactitude j hence his
unparalleled success in the world of appearance. Of signifi-
cance he knows little as yet. If, however, he perceives it at
all, then he will find perfect ｅxpression for it, he will establish
the perfect harmony between essential being and phenomena.
*I have developed these ideas in the Chapters 'Antikes und Modernes
Weisentum* and 'Was uns Not tut' in Schoepferischc Erkcnntmss. See also
my essay 'Psychoanalyse und Selboervallkemmung* in the sixth volume of
my Weg aw Vollcndung.
2 1 have developed this particular trend of thought in the Chapter 'Sinn
und Ausdruck in Kunst und Leben' of Schoepferische Erkenntniss.
3io AMERICA PART vin
67
SALT LAKE CITY
As I was turning over the leaves and tracts in the office of
the Mormon Temple, waiting for the beginning of the
organ recital which takes place at noon, the saleswoman turned
to me and asked if the new gospel had already been preached
to me? I replied that I was familiar with the writings of the
Mormons. Are you already convinced that they contain the
word of God? And, without giving me time to answer, she
continued: That is just the wonder of our religion, that it is
possible to obtain certainty without digression concerning the
divine origin of its revelation. God has proclaimed through
Joseph Smith that he who petitions Him for knowledge in
truthfulness will be answered directly, and He is as good as
His word: that is how I was converted. I am a Munich girlj
it was by accident that I listened to a Mormon missionary j he
showed me how I could be certain of the divine origin of the
Book of Mormons. So I asked God and behold: He an-
swered me at once with an audible Yes* Since then I am
here and I am very happy. I looked at her and was really
touched. She belonged to the usual type of convert such as
populate all revivalist churches; but I had never heard with
my own ears such touchingly simple ideas expressed. In this
respect the Mormon Church stands undoubtedly at the head
of all spiritual institutions. How pathetic is the history of
Mormon polygamy! It had been revealed to Joseph Smith
that the family ties continue in Heaven; thus polygamy was
recognised as existing in so far as the man who marries several
women, one after the other, upon earth, will possess them
all at once in heaven. Thus, the next revelation, that man
should have several women on earth, was only a corollary to
the preceding revelation. Nevertheless, this commandment was
a terrible shock to the minds of the faithful; it was opposed to
all the prejudices of their worthy Anglo-Saxon souls. How-
ever, the fear of God gained the victory, and with a heavy
heart they took several wives unto themselves. The trials
CHAP.67 SALT LAKE CITY 31*
soon began} a period of such bitter persecution followed that
the Church was threatened with destruction. The Lord there-
upon was merciful: He revealed to the president, Wilford
Woodruff, that polygamy might now cease. 'Thus, the latter-
day saints,' according to a canonical writing (Mormonism by
B. H. Roberts, published by the Church, page 57), c as far as
polygamy is concerned, are responsible neither for its introduc-
tion nor for its abolition. The Lord commanded it at first in
spite of all human prejudices; then taking mercy on the suffer-
ing which obedience brought down upon His faithful, He
permitted the return to monogamy. It is God's business to
answer for the commandments that emanate from Him.' I
am reminded of the judgment which Swami Vivekananda de-
livered concerning all the religious founders of the West he
knew of: in them, genuine revelation was mixed in a curious
manner with quaint superstition; no doubt they were inspired by
God, but they were psychically too uncultured to perceive what
had been revealed to them in its purity, and to understand it
correctly. And that is so. In Mormonism that which applies
in principle to all religious manifestations of Western human-
ity only appears in its extremest form. Undoubtedly Joseph
Smith and Brigham Young were just as genuine prophets as
Moses, Wesley, Luther and Calvin; only they were exceed-
ingly ignorant and uneducated. But in this respect they are
not essentially different and one should be clear on this point
from our greatest men. What is one to say, for instance,
of Luther, who rejected what was believed to be the nature of
religion by all profoundly religious minds before him as a
transient, secondary and even questionable manifestation, and
regarded as its nature precisely what before him was consid-
ered as its derivative effect; who has taught that religion is
nothing else, and can mean nothing higher, than blind faith
in God and the use of the Word and sacraments as means to
salvation? x one can only be awkwardly silent at the lack of
understanding of this great man. His personal religion was
wonderfully profound, but his thoughts concerning religious
matters all remained on the surface. And then Calvin: is his
i See Adolf Harnack, 'Reden und Auf satze/ IL pp. 300, 302.
AMERICA PART vn:
dogmatism not monstrous? Monstrous indeed is the idea of
eternal damnation, imposed upon powerless souls from jthe
beginning by an all-merciful God for His own glorification.
Nevertheless, Calvin was otherwise a highly cultured man,
and Luther a genius: for this reason the spirit of profundity
radiates from their most superficial mental images, so that
through all their errors one feels that they knew more than
they could pronounce. Among the Anglo-Saxon reformers, es-
pecially those from across the sea, one feels nothing similar.
The Anglo-Saxon race, in many ways the most developed in
the world, is religiously at a completely primitive stage. It is
so unphilosophical, so unpsychological, so altogether undiffer-
entiated and unreflective as far as the life of the soul is con-
cerned, that otherwise distinguished Britons profess candidly
religious forms which, according to our judgment, would hardly
be suited to the simplest country yokel. No Anglo-Saxon
founder of religion was ever capable of a philosophical judg-
ment, and if he belonged, into the bargain, to the lower strata
of the people, and if he was uncultured and unschooled alto-
gether, like most of the American reformers, then systems like
that of the Mormons came into existence. once more: the man
who is familiar with India, or knows by other means what re-
ligious culture is, does not regard such excrescences as the
Duchobortsy in Russia, the Pietists in North Germany and the
Mormons in America as anything extraordinary} he regards
them, rather, as tolerably typical forms of ｅxpression of reli-
gious experience in the West.
We Occidentals are not men of understanding, but men of
a/ction. The same Mormons whose religious ideas seem so
childish have achieved a civilisation hardly attained by any
other people; in barely half a century they have changed a
salt desert into a garden. They are, moreover, admirable citi-
zens, law-abiding, honest and progressive. Such practical ad-
vantages are not characteristic of the Indians, in spite of their
greater insight^ Apparently there is no necessary connection
between the philosophical value of an idea and its importance
in life, nor can a judgment be formed concerning the latter
CHAP.67 SALT LAKE CITY 313
from the former. The idea of predestination is a monstrosity:
nevertheless, it has formed the strongest men in history; the
whole efficacy of modern man is traceable to the doctrine of
John Calvin. The Lutheran attitude of religion is strangely
superficial: nevertheless, from it, or within it, the profoundest
mental culture of Europe has originated, and its spirit lies at
the bottom of the music of Johann Sebastian Bach, just as it
lies at the bottom of the greatest German speculation. The
Catholic Church, with its opposition to all independence, with
its primitive mythology and its enmity to progress, signifies,
even to-day, the best psychological institution for education,
perhaps the best school for self -recognition which we possess.
And Brahmanism, with its marvellous profundity of recogni-
tion, has shown itself incapable not only of influencing the
practical life of the masses anything like as favourably as the
cruder forms of religion of the West, but it has advanced
recognition less on the whole than Lutherism has. It will not
do, in judging a religious idea, to disregard the empirical
circumstances within which it is to be effective. Their efficacy
depends upon the degree in which it influences the will of men;
and this depends upon the pre-established harmony between
religious concepts and instincts, which, in their turn, depend
upon the surroundings in which they grew up, and so on. In
general, the following is the most that may safely be said:
where spiritual culture is small and the intensity of volition
great, primitive ideas prove themselves to be the bestj where
the opposite condition prevails, there all ideas are ineffective;
only where both are more or less on the same high level, spir-
itual value more or less determines their efficacy. one portion
of European humanity has lately reached this final stage j but
this portion is smaller than one thinks; even among us, primi-
tive concepts are best suited to the majority.
+
WHEN one regards American sects, not in themselves, but as
the exponents or representatives of Western religion, they
appear much more interesting, for here, as everywhere else, the
314 AMERICA PART VIIT
typical characteristics of the Westerner are more in evidence
in America than in Europe, and they have attained to more
advanced stages of development.
What differentiates our sense of religion fundamentally
from that of India? That in our case, as opposed to India,
the $rincipum individuationis is the ruling principle of every
manifestation. Religion in the West is concerned with the rela-
tion of the individual as such to Godj there is no instance
above the individual within the human sphere. Thus, individ-
ual phenomena acquire value. No matter how this relation
may be understood in the particular in the sense of the infinite
value of the human soul pure and simple (Christ), of per-
sonality as the highest boon (Goethe), of the superman
(Nietzsche), the c Godman' (Johannes Miiller, New Thought),
which every individual can develop out of himself or awaken
in him it is the stressing of the value of the individual as such
which gives its singular character to Occidental religion. It is
to this that most, and at any rate the most important differences
between Eastern and Western religious life are to be traced.
Nowhere are there more sects than in India; nowhere are the
marks of differentiation more distinctly developed. But as the
emphasis is not laid upon the differences, the same consequences
do not follow upon this state of things which would have re-
sulted in similar circumstances in the West. Among us, differ-
entiation has always occasioned enmity j in our case, if one sect
looks down upon another, makes war upon it, persecutes it,
seeks to exterminate or to convert it, if value is to be attached
to individual forms, then the form recognised as the true one
at any given time naturally robs all others of their worth, which
results in the right, and even the duty, of doing away with
them somehow or other. But when individual phenomena are
not regarded as values, but as particularised ｅxpressions of
higher qualities, then intolerance, exclusiveness, the passion
for proselytising, and even the mere missionary zeal, lose their
footing entirely. For this reason even the Mahayana religion,
which imposes the duty of sending out missionaries, has never
practised intolerance: it is absolutely opposed to the Indian
spirit to regard a special manifestation as of value in itself.
CHAP.67 SALT LAKE CITY 315
There is no doubt that the Indian attitude is the right one
in principle: individuality has no value in itself j but it can be-
come the bearer of values, and if this takes place it acquires
a spiritual density which radically changes its nature. Hence
the immense and unique efficacy which marks the Western
spirit in all its manifestations. What forces has the mere fact
of being different not released among us! one should think
of the struggles between Christian and heathen, Catholic and
Protestant, sticklers for tradition and sticklers for progress:
however little justified they may seem inwardly, they have
caused prodigious and, moreover, beneficent effects. Every
fighter saw, in his particular profession, the only possible vessel
for absolute truth, he filled it with the entire content of ideals
which he possessed and thus became more clearly and inti-
mately conscious of them than he could have done if he had
contemplated them by themselves without taking sides. This
explains why our limited recognition has signified more for
the progress of humanity than the more profound and wider
doctrine of the Indians: we have embodied what we knew in
our personal life, and by this means we have communicated the
whole vital power of our personal wishes and aspirations to
our ideas. In this way the riddle is solved why the Duke of
Alba's and Cromwell's intolerance have contributed more to
the victory of the freedom of conscience than the omniscience
of an Erasmus: tolerance develops into indifference in practice,
and can therefore not change the world by itself, whereas every
one-sided action, thanks to the counter-action which it occa-
sions, tends towards the transformation of the old condition
of equilibrium into a new one. 1 In this way the paradox is
explained to which I have pointed several times in the course
of these observations the paradox that the value of an idea
as such guarantees its practical value so little that more limited
and even monstrous conceptions have often proved to be more
beneficent than others more profound: where the accent of
being is laid upon appearance, it becomes transfigured j it signi-
1 1 have developed this idea in my lecture Spannung un<$ Rhythmus which
deals with the particular mission of the West in future history (see Der
Leuchter, 1923),
3i6 AMERICA PART vm
fies what has no relation to, in fact hardly any connection with,
its own particular meaning} it becomes the ｅxpression of the
absolute. Thus, the nations of the West, in spite of the blind-
ness of their souls, their limitations, their one-sidedness and
intolerance, and one can almost say because of them, have
achieved more for humanity as a whole than any others have
done hitherto j they alone have undertaken and understood
how to realise the ideals which they recognised progressively.
The medium of this realisation was nothing else than the
party spirit, its fundamental motive was the faith in the abso-
lute value and substantiality of the individual} but the operative
force was the ideal. Thus, the normal path of progress leads
of its own accord beyond limitation. Nobody has probably
been religious in a more narrow sense than the American pil-
grim fathers} for a long time the most cruel intolerance pre-
dominated on the other side of the ocean. The persecutions
in particular which the Mormons had to endure were terrible*
But because the $rincipum individuationis was exaggerated in
America, it exploded there at the earliest stage. Sect upon
sect arose, each one imagined itself at first to possess a mo-
nopoly of truth, and secluded itself strictly from all the rest,
As all Americans, however, have accepted the absolute freedom
of the individual as the fundamental principle of political
philosophy, the necessary consequence in the long run was that
one individual had to countenance another} tolerance slowly
but irresistibly took the place of original intolerance. Thus a
process had begun, which undoubtedly implies a high-water
mark in human evolution up to the present: a practice which
in idea is based upon Indian generosity, which countenances
all special manifestation as a matter of course, but which is
de facto animated by the whole power which personal volition
evokes. In other words: the latest development of Occidental
humanity leads to the same condition by stressing the value of
the individual, as the disregard of the individual does among
the Indians.
If the Western and Christian outlook upon life is ever ani-
mated by the spirit of metaphysical knowledge, then it may
one day bring forth the most perfect life which here below is
CHAP.67 SALT LAKE CITY 317
theoretically conceivable. If Christian love until to-day has
occasioned as much mischief as good, this is due to the fact
that it still coincides too much with the natural feeling which
implies the will-to-take rather than the will-to-give, and is
almost identical with a wider form of egoism. If the Christian
attitude to death seems on the whole less noble than the Bud-
dhistic attitude, it is due to the fact that the emphasis is laid,
not upon the sacrifice, but upon retention, upon compensation
of suffering and a rediscovery in a better world of everything
that has been lost. However, none of these views necessarily
belongs to our attitude to life. What characterises our attitude
essentially, independently of all time-limited concepts, is the
stressing of the value of the individual and the assent to per-
sonal fate; these, however, animated by the spirit of true
knowledge, could bring about a higher and fuller life than
Indian detachment can. Even the Indians speak of the sacri-
fice which every one should bring: but what value has the
surrender of that which we do not care for? The man who
does not take life seriously finds its renunciation easy. But
this not-taking-seriously proves, except in rare cases, lack of
sincerity. We happen to be individuals, earthly, suffering
beings, and we are related to this world with the whole of our
empirical consciousness. We lie, therefore, when we assert
that it means nothing to usj or if we do not lie, we reveal in
most cases, not that we are superior to the world, but blunt and
lacking in feeling. In any case, we evince a physiological in-
capacity for sacrifice. only that kind of surrender which is
not made with a view to greater gain, nor relates to that which
has been recognised as worthless, can be regarded as sacrifice.
It is only in the cheerful ability and wish to sacrifice that we
have become 'entworden, 5 as Master Eckhart says, that we
have put off our ego, and accordingly become practically one
with God and no attitude to life induces such real sacrifice
more than that of Western Christianity. It makes possible
in idea by far the freest attitude towards death. He who dies
really gives away his lifej for even if his soul continues to
live the man, in the shape in which he knows himself and is
dear to others, is gone for ever. To die gladly in the full
318 AMERICA PART vin
consciousness of this fact, or to surrender a beloved creature
willingly, literally involves the overcoming of death, for he
who can give in this way pure giving without wishing to take
again is thus beyond all nature. It is just the same with
Christian love. It is decidedly better than despising oneself
and the world to an equal degree to love one's neighbour as one
loves oneself, be this only because every one does love himself.
only love, in order to imply an ｅxpression of metaphysical
knowledge, must be pure giving, a process of sun-like radia-
tion, a pouring out of warmth and light without reserve, in-
tention or exclusiveness. Because love in the Christian world
is not like that, but on the whole an ｅxpression of selfishness,
it offers an uglier spectacle than the more indifferent love of
the East. However, subject to progressive recognition, it can
and must become soj the psychic body is there, only requires
transfusion of spirit, and this is already beginning* once this
process has been perfected, then the divine light will possess
a perfect medium in the Christian soul. Instead of shedding its
radiance, as in India, only in the spiritual sphere, or in that of
sensibility, ^as in Buddhistic Japan, or only, as in the West hith-
erto, pointing the direction for action, it will animate man in
his entirety.
68
EASTWARD
INOW traverse the continent in the hurrying train} the new
world flies past me with the speed of the wind. And once
more^I perceive that time is merely a hindrance to the under-
standing of what is essential. The great outlines appear all
the more clearly,^the more the details are diffuse and indistinct.
America, in spite of the preliminary character of most of its
phenomena, is decidedly nearer than Europe to the ideal con-
dition towards which our latest evolution tends. I am not, of
course, thinking of the man who boasts of his culture by de-
claring his ability ^to buy everything, who regards himself as
the crown of creation he is not important in any way, hardly
CHAP.68 EASTWARD 319
more^ genuine in his garment of European culture than the
Anglicised Hindu} but I am thinking of the hard-working
man of indifferent position, whose success is none too great on
a large scale, and for whom the democratic outlook has really
been devised. He is far superior to his transatlantic fellow.
In America most of that is lacking which embitters and re-
duces the European who is born in an unfavourable position
in life. Here the circumstances are such that every individual
can hope to make his own way, and his courage and straight-
forwardness are thus strengthened} here circumstances offer
him, on the other hand, the hard school which every immature
individual needs by nature in order to gain the moral right to
self-determination. And if a man rises considerably from small
beginnings, he can appear as mature for his higher position as
the one who is born into it, because disregard and fear of such
a position are often the main hindrances to a rise of the soul
which naturally follows an external improvement} and because,
vice versa, genuine merit, joyfully recognised, influences self-
consciousness in a similar manner to inherited nobility} for
undoubtedly class barriers and class prejudice are a pure evil
wherever they do not actually correspond to physiologically
existing differences. Here, if anywhere, real culture will
blossom one day from a democratic basis.
^ Thus, in America the view has already gained a footing to a
high degree which must apply wherever modern develop-
ment approaches its perfection: that all work is equally hon-
ourable. Of course, this is based at first upon -force majewre,
not upon higher insight, and for this reason it is not surprising
that here, on the other hand, class prejudice prevails of a
cruder kind than among us. But the combination of circum-
stances by which every one, absolutely dependent upon him-
self, must earn his bread, and can yet participate in the highest
culture, and feel himself to be a kind of sovereign, necessarily
involves the fact that, in the eyes of the American people, the
execution of the lowest function does not preclude a man from
being a gentleman, with the result that all work appears
ennobled and the self -consciousness of those in the lowest
position appears raised. Thus, the path to an ideal condition
3 ao AMERICA PART vin
has been embarked upon: if it is attained, then the^ truth that
all externals are indifferent would have found its highest
possible embodiment. 1 The Indians regard all externals as
indifferent in the sense that all appearance ^ seems equally
worthless to them: it is undoubtedly more desirable ^ to regard
all appearance as equally valuable, and that is the direction^ in
which American development is moving. Both attitudes sig-
nify the same metaphysically, because both cancel the empirical
order of rank, but the latter gives significance to appearance
'the kingdom of heaven is realised upon earth' whereas the
former makes appearance completely hollow. The Oriental
view of the indifference of all externals reduces those who are
compelled to devote themselves to external activity, that is to
say all the working classes, to the level of meaningless exist-
ence; the American view makes it possible for the most
wretched coolie to feel himself as a complete human being and
to act as such. Here, in the American type of workman, a form
of progress seems to be realised which is more than progress
in the usual sense: here we are concerned with a state of ad-
vancement, not merely in the sense of success, but, above all,
in that of the possibility of higher perfection. If every external
frame is considered as equally valuable, then the fatal character
of mobility has been destroyed} then the passage through the
various orders of life may bring the same inner culture with
it which is otherwise obtainable only through remaining in
the existing order. And this is already being achieved. ^No
matter how much the 'cultured' American is still a barbarian,
the simple people give a correspondingly greater effect of cul-
ture. The conductors with whom I conversed occasionally im-
pressed me more than any Westerner has done for years.
Another direction in which America appears to be ahead of
us in our own course is that here democracy does not neces-
sarily involve the government of incompetence. Of course, it
strives in this direction as if towards an ideal: labour unions
already stigmatise those who do more than their f ellow-work-
1 1 have developed this last train of thought in the Chapter 'Das ZieP of
Schoepferische Erkenntniss, in which I have tried to define in the concrete
the forthcoming better world.
CHAP.68 EASTWARD 321
ers as unfair, and already, independently of the work done,
equally high wages are demanded and occasionally obtained.
But equally hopeless conditions do not await the new world for
any length of time as they certainly await us. The growth of
power of the lower strata in Europe is so pregnant with evil
because even the most self-conscious and self-determined pro-
letarian still clings to the traditional idea that it is the duty of
the higher strata to look after him. This idea was sufficiently
justified as long as there was no free contract between employ-
ers and employed, but a patriarchal relation or some other
form of tutelage. As soon as the workman enters into the
arena of an independent fighter the idea loses its basis, and
leads, where it continues to live, to fatal consequences in the
social organism. Among us the proletarians aspire to nothing
less than the ruin of all prosperous people. Officially they
also do this in America, but there they will not cause much
mischief, because precisely the idea which conditions all mis-
chief from within among us is lacking there: no one pre-
supposes, as a matter of course, that the wealthy are obliged
to provide for the poor; there the contract relation between
employer and employed exists in its pure form; there every one
expects everything only from himself, and the apparent class
war is in reality a struggle of interests. America has the
enormous advantage over us that there development took
place from the beginning on an individualistic basis, whereas
in the old world it is only very slowly tending towards it.
Every emigrant who crossed the ocean worked solely for his
own interest; he rejected the idea of doing so for others. But
it was equally opposed to his pride to expect assistance from
them. In a poor country this fundamental attitude would have
led to distrustful bitterness in the long run. In wealthy
America it has developed into an ever freer and more opti-
mistic self-reliance, so that the feelings of envy and resentment
are rare even to-day. The American does not presuppose that
others have to care for him: this statement summarises the
advantage which the new world has over the old. only sub-
ject to this supposition can free competition lead to good re-
sults; a permanent order of society, in which every one has
322 AMERICA PART vin
equal rights, can be built on this basis alone. For only if every
one is accorded the right to preserve his own interests without
consideration of others can the rule of incompetence be evaded;
only in this way is it possible for the idea of democracy to
bring about an effective aristocracy.
Of course, the psychological factor by means of which the
new order can alone be realised, is nothing but egoism: this
explains the inferior condition of everything in^ America which
presupposes higher syntheses than individuality. Humane-
ness in the prof ounder sense is seldorn found among Amer-
icans, no matter how well-meaning and kindly and even helpful
they usually are; it is rare that any one feels obliged inwardly
to assist another, unless he happens to be a specialist in chari-
tableness; the man who cannot work, well, he may die of hun-
ger. But we must understand that this deficiency signifies the
inevitable preliminary ｅxpression of a self-determination which
is growing more firm, and that, regarded from the standpoint
of a better future, it is humanly more valuable than all drivel
about humaneness. on the basis of the morals of compassion
an individualistic order of society is inconceivable; it can lead
to good only where every one expects everything from himself
and nothing from others. This fundamental attitude pre-
supposes a complete transformation of the European soul, and
until this has taken place the disadvantages rather than the
advantages of the new position will obtrude themselves upon
the observer. But here and there it is already completed, and
then it offers a thoroughly satisfactory spectacle. Men who
have passed unbroken through the cruel school of the Amer-
ican fight for existence are hard and elastic like steel; they
possess an inner tension such as no one else can boast. But
since they expect everything of themselves and nothing of
others, they give all the more readily when they are noble-
minded. Thus, humaneness, hitherto mere reinsurance, be-
comes a pure gift. It is not impossible that in America, after
the wild-oats period has been passed, and after crass egoism
has been tempered by life, the highest civilisation will flourish
which can be conceived from the Western point of view, a
highest civilization which seems conceivable only subject to
CHAP-68 EASTWARD 323
these particular historical premises: a purely individualistic
civilisation, where no one expects anything from others, and
where every one does everything he can for the community.
THE railway now carries me through endless fields and pas-
tures. I have never yet seen such extensive farming, and I
have rarely seen it conducted more rationally. No farmer of
Kansas seems to pursue sport in his agriculture, which the
European still continues to do, whose management is fre-
quently more expensive owing to his pleasure in his under-
taking he builds too magnificently, preserves what is unprofit-
able, he leaves fruitful soil fallow for aesthetic or sentimental
considerations, etc.} but no one here seems practical in a petty
way, penny wise, cunning in the short-sighted rustic's sense,
reactionary from lack of enterprise} only what is unquestion-
ably appropriate is done, and this is done thoroughly. And
strange: these vast farms, which are nothing but organisations
for purposes of making money, often present more beautiful
landscapes than those of Northern Europe, to which so much
love has been devoted. This is due to the fact that profitable-
ness is not only the highest practical, but also the highest
aesthetic principle of agriculture, and for this reason unpractical
embellishment often seems ugly.
I am reminded of American farmers whom I have had an
opportunity of overhearing in conversation in the course of my
travels. Yes, they are men on an ample scale, and this is
typical of them, whereas the same is true of us only exception-
ally. They alone among farmers regard it as a matter of course
that initiative is the best working capital, that far-sightedness,
even at the expense of the obvious, is more profitable than the
most keen-eyed short-sightedness. They are strong men, con-
scious of their purpose. But they lack all the moral qualities
which ennoble so very much the farmer who lives on his in-
herited soil in countries of ancient culture. The heir of a
nobleman's estate, the landed proprietor who is the offspring of
a peasant family that has been living in the same place for
generations regards his concern, even if he manages his farm in
324
AMERICA PART vin
accordance with the purest economic principles, as a matter of
sentiments he feels bound in duty to his property. If he im-
proves his ploughed land and his meadows, this is done more
for their sake than for his own 5 or, if he thinks of himself, he
does not refer to his person but to his family. Thus, his activity
has the profound background which the state of being rooted
in the super-individual cohesion of nature ^ alone supplies, and
characteristics are trained in his being which express the con-
sciousness of being rooted there, and these are the best qualities.
This is why the profession of farming is regarded rightly as
the noblest of all practical professions: it makes men more pro-
found and more genuine than any other. In the United States
this profession is regarded with equal justice merely as
one industry among others j if agriculture means nothing but
that money can be earned by it, then earning money exhausts
its significance. Therefore, the American farmer does not
stand on a higher human level than the industrialist does in the
whole world, and this means that as a type he is completely
superficial} he is a money-producing machine j in fact, he per-
haps embodies the most unpleasant ｅxpression of the modern
knighthood of industry, because one looks involuntarily in
him for the traits which otherwise differentiate the farmer
advantageously from the industrialist, and one is correspond-
ingly horrified by the lack of them. And this makes me think
back to China. What an overwhelming difference! If agri-
culture in America is one trade among others and in Europe a
trade with a moral background, then in China it is the expres-
sion of morality pure and simple 5 there its material advantages
hardly weigh in the balance. In China the individual belongs
to the family, the family to the race, the race to the soil on
which it lives j even the soil itself is not devoid of life, it is the
earthly symbol of all the ancestors round whose gravestones
the zigzag furrows of the plough are drawn. Regarded from
the angle of material advantage, Chinese agriculture seems
senseless} it implies an endless working at a loss. But it is not
meant to be a means of profit: it is only intended to secure the
normal activity for the moral nature of man. In fact, the
Chinese owes his unique moral qualities to his farm. And if
CHAP.68 EASTWARD 325
one regards his method from this point of view, then it proves
itself to be superior to that of the Americans. The latter makes
men rich, but it makes them superficial and dry; the former
merely continues misery, but it breeds superior men.
And yet, the American view of agriculture contains the seed
for a higher condition than that which has ever been realised
in countries with old civilisations: the condition in which con-
sciousness of the prof oundest relations of life seems no longer
to be tied to a material substratum. The more freely and pro-
foundly a man is self-conscious, the greater number of natural
barriers can he deny without damaging his inner value. The
highest man whom we can conceive is completely detached;
he knows no geographical sentimentality, no preference for
this or that custom, no prejudice against any calling; in fact,
he knows no exclusiveness whatever in his feelings. And this
does not mean, in his case, that he is cold and indifferent, but
that he has attained a stage of inner culture where man can
love as God loves, Who also does not countenance any differ-
ences. The tendency of all cultural development points in
this direction. More and more does mind free itself from
matter, in which it was originally involved; the individual
appears less tied in every successive cultural stage. If this
development took the place of exploding the old form after its
new content has matured, then it would soar upwards in a
straight line. But this does not happen, and for good reasons.
For the new to develop, the old must decay, while the new
exists only in the form of seed. For this reason, all external
progress at first brings inner retrogression with it, all the more
so the further the development of form precedes the develop-
ment of content. This is the meaning of that progressive
barbarisation, which is taking place just now in the white
race. In our concentration on the new form we have lost the
consciousness of its content altogether. But in a short while
it will grow again, and then we will advance inwardly as well.
For this reason we must not take it too tragically if agriculture,
while becoming modern, is losing its educative power, if
family ties become loosened, if professional and class idealism
wane, and even if patriotism in days of peace appears to domi-
326 AMERICA PART vm
nate the popular soul less and less: it is a question everywhere
of a decay of the form, so that a new content may be formed.
If, on the one hand, the form, which has become solid, gen-
erally outlives its content, the new form on the other hand antic-
ipates content; this results, however, in a most unpleasant state
of transition. We are in the midst of such a state. We are
more superficial than any other variety of man, more materially
minded, meanerj these general characteristics of our time
appear caricatured in America. But we are only more super-
ficial because the prof oundest in us has not yet grown into its
new form, we seem more material because our spirituality still
lacks the corresponding means of ｅxpression and we seem
more mean because we do not know how to exploit our wealth.
And the Americans only seem worse than we are because the
tension between form and content is still greater in their case.
But sooner or later this unsatisfactory stage will lie behind us.
And this will happen soonest probably in the New World,
because no energy need be wasted in fighting against the past
and the inner content can be embodied in the new form with-
out looking back.
THE further I travel eastward, the more intensive does the
cultivation appear, and the more autocratic is man in relation to
nature} one might almost believe that he determines every-
thing without being determined himself. He has anticipated
the minor accidents of the -weather by compensating measures
(irrigation, Draining, manuring), and he has obviated catas-
trophes by insurance. His ploughed field does not bear what
it may, but what it should, his cows give more milk than nature
intended, and the lack of human hands is replaced by machin-
ery. ^ And through the anticipated adaptation of his own pro-
duction to the demands of the markets of the world, he has
really taken root in the economic centre of the world, so that
he can adjust himself to them and turn them to his advantage,
whereas otherwise he would succumb to them as if to fate. My
thoughts pursue these possibilities uncontrolled and I lose
sight of them. Suddenly I discover that they have swung over
CHAP. 68 EASTWARD 327
to the opposite pole of American life, to the condition which is
rooted, not in creative activity, but in acceptance and suffering.
And, as happens easily in such cases, I see this condition now
in a purely favourable light. The specific culture which devel-
ops in places where man does not regard himself as superior
to nature, but where, on the contrary, he feels subjected to a
superior destiny, will never arise in America and yet it em-
braces a great portion of the highest which mankind may
adduce in its own favour. How noble is the pride of the son of
the desert who believes himself to be completely dependent
upon fate! How profound is the feeling for nature of the
Indian, of the Russian peasant, both of whom regard them-
selves as the lowest elements in the universe! And how sublime
was the effect of the same root consciousness in China! No:
humility, modesty, the feeling of nothingness, do not mean
something purely negative, as America imagines; they too
can be the sources of a highest power. That is what they were
during all the greatest periods of Christianity. I think of
Bach's music: this depth, this power, is only revealed where
man feels, not as the master, but as the servant j not essentially
as a man of action, but as one to whom events occur. The atti-
tude of consciousness which seems the only right one to the
youngest wisdom of the West is, in truth, only one among
many, and its advantages do not alter the fact that they preclude
the experiences of a Laotse and of a St. Augustine, of a Bach
and of a Luther, of a Tolstoy and of a Buddha.
The relativity of all manifestation! Every one is capable of
expressing the greatest profundity, but none says everything,
and no man says absolutely more than another apparently less
valuable man does. Mighty things are effected by the con-
sciousness of being at one with God: but no less creative is
the belief in one's own baseness and wretchedness. Both
views of the relation of man to God are empirically equally
correct, or could at any rate be so. Consciousness of sin neces-
sarily arises as the soul becomes profound, because the more
clearly Atman is realised, the more also does personal insuffi-
ciency become clear; the man who identifies himself with his
person, not with his super-personal self, must discover that it
328 AMERICA PART vm
is not he who acts, but that events happen to him, that he owes
all progress to 'Divine Grace.' No form comprehends Atman
in itself: all that matters is, how profoundly man realises him-
self in any form. Just as the mystics of Persia read sublime
wisdom from the crude Suras of the Koran, just as the Iliad
was a moral textbook to the Greeks, just as the chastest Chris-
tianity was never shocked by the most insidious passages in the
Bible, so every form can become the means of ｅxpression of
the highest. But in every one the highest is presented in a
particular, exclusive and unique manner. The latest inter-
pretation of Christianity will never make the older ones super-
fluous. Incurable invalids should never deny their disease}
they get further spiritually by believing in tribulation. Adele
Kamm would not have become a saint as a disciple of Christian
Science} she would, on the contrary, have become hardened
by fruitless opposition. The advantages of the Karma doctrine
weigh against the disadvantage that all misfortune is inter-
preted as penance and therefore as an end, by which it loses its
productive influence and strengthens the evil inclination in
its adherents to see a deserved punishment in every misfortune
of others. He who denies the positive in New Thought denies
the positive character of evil and renders the beneficial effect
which it produces when regarded as punishment, temptation
or stimulus, quite impossible, and, moreover, does not do
justice to the fact that it undoubtedly is not something abso-
lutely negative: one man's evil always implies simultaneously
the benefit of another, for nothing individual has its signifi-
cance in itself, it derives it from the whole. Acceptance, en-
durance, passivity, all have a quality of absolute good. And
they have proved themselves to be the only adequate inner
attitude towards the processes of the world during critical
times, in which catastrophes o nature, revolutions and wars
annihilate all effects of individual volition, and in which fate
tears asunder the whole order of humanity. For there is really
a super-personal fate, whether one regards it as providence in
the Christian sense, as racial Karma, or, in a more unbiased
and more objective form, as Moira} there is a general cosmic
necessity, the resultant of all that has ever happened, which
CHAP.68 EASTWARD 329
generally rules unnoticed, and often coincides with the result
of human foresight, but which occasionally condenses itself
into a sovereign personality and then pursues its own un-
recognisable aims and against Moira all protestations of self-
determination are of no avail. And even if it were not so,
even if the whole of the modern white race could become con-
verted to American optimism, it would not bring about any
absolute progress: it would only mean that at a certain time
a certain manifestation would offer life the best opportunity,
that the Hippos has followed the Hipparion; and it would
simultaneously cause the extinction of that form of greatness
which seems so uniquely worthy of veneration in Luther, St.
Augustine and Bach.
The self-determined and self-conscious Individual, like all
types of perfection, does not include but excludes the others.
Nevertheless, it is a good thing that it has become an ideal: for
it relates the existence of every one to a profounder basis.
Atman is creative spontaneity; the man who knows himself
self-determined is more deeply rooted in Atman than one
who feels himself to be dependent. When man changes him-
self from an essentially determined to a determining factor
in nature, he traverses in the sphere of practical life the same
path of evolution which leads the theist to mysticism. Empiri-
cally the one is as right as the otherj God is experienced as
c Thou' or % 5 according to the spot in which consciousness
centres; but the man who experiences Him as *P experiences
Him more profoundly. Thus, the autonomously determining
individual is more directly rooted in being than the one who
gives in and suffers. And that this is so is in this case not only
proved by subjective feeling, as in that of the mystic, but by
objective experience: this reveals that man is really destined
to be the lord of creation. In our world Moira does not possess
one thousandth part of the power over which it held sway
among the Greeks, who gave way to their passions without
inhibition, and who themselves created the forces which
eventually destroyed them; we have made the elemental forces
serve us to a large extent. If ever we gain equal mastery over
ourselves, and exercise it with complete understanding, it may
330 AMERICA PART vm
happen that all pessimistic considerations will fall to the
ground. For no suffering would seem fated any morej and
man, externally master of nature, inwardly superior to all
possible accidents, fully conscious of the meaning of good as
well as evil, may himself assume the office of Providence.
IN America my imagination roams inevitably into a better
future. This proves how very appropriate the concept of prog-
ress is to this world. Here reflective consciousness has pene-
trated and seized the whole of life to such an extent that its
peculiarity is dominant, its forms regulate activity, and its
ideals have the effect of creative forces. What a power the
spirit possesses over nature! In originality, versatility and
inventiveness, the leading people of modern times are miles
behind the old Greeks. But their development, no matter how
far it led in many directions, did not take place in the sign of
progress. Without direction and without inhibition they spent
their gifts, as unfettered as Indian imagination, and after
barely two centuries of glory they had come to their endj since
then they have only rotted and decayed, no matter how much
mental fermentation they continued to display. The modern
nations have sown the seeds of their ideals systematically into
the soil of life, in the assumption that progress is a fact,
and this subordinates the physiological process, which is finite
in itself, to the infinite mental process. Therefore, no reason
can be adduced why the modern world should perish or cease to
continue its development.
New and progressive humanity has been called to translate
into progressive life whatever of the ideas of all ages can
continue to be wholesome in effect. It is peculiarly fitted to
achieve this translation in view of its special physiology, no
matter how much it may fail in other directions. The Hellenic
ideals are more real forces in our world than in that of the
ancients; sooner or later the same will be true of the Indian
outlook. To-day, of course, even the preliminary labours for
the first beginning of what seems to be our destiny are hardly
accomplished j the present conditions signify embryonic phases*
cHAP.6g CHICAGO 331
The man who devotes himself to them completely achieves
little of lasting value. I personally belong to too old a
civilisation to find satisfaction in what is preliminary} I could
not storm Bastilles or fight behind barricades, because I know
that such efforts have nothing essential at stake. To be a revo-
lutionary or a pioneer, one must be blind. But where would
we be if there were no blind? The phagocytes who battle
against deadly microbes in our blood are certain to imagine
that this war is a purpose in itself} and if they thought other-
wise, no higher being could live. Those who have eyes to
see have more reason than any one else to respect the blind,
for it is to them that they owe the very possibility of existence}
the man of understanding is possible only because millions of
unreasonable creatures sacrifice themselves. A world in which
their opinion dominates cannot, of course, please him, but what
can he demand? Nous n'avons fas le droit d'etre fort difficiles,
Renan wrote already in his day. Dans le passe, aux meftleures
heuresy nous n'avons ete que toleres. Cette tolerance, nous
I'obtiendrons bien au moins de Vavenir. Un regime demo-
critique borne est, nous le savons > facilement vexatoire. Des
gens d'esprit vivent cependant en Amerique, a condition de
n*etre pas trop exigeants. Noli me tangere est tout ce qu'il
jaut demander a la Democratie. Et peut-etre la vulgarite
generate sera-t-elle wn jour la condition du bonheur des elus.
69
CHICAGO
MY friendly feeling has gone. Chicago is awful. All life
is given over to mechanical regulation to such an extent
that even the visitor surrenders himself unconsciously to it
out of fear of perishing otherwise. And his instinct does not
err: the man who cannot, or will not, be an apparatus for a
special function in Chicago, who is not ready to pledge the
whole of his being to it, must perish.
I am profoundly depressed. I have nothing to say against
making life mechanical: on the contrary, I wish that every-
332 AMERICA PART vm
thing that can be made mechanical would be made so as
quickly and as perfectly as possible, so that the mind should
have all the more power and leisure for what is ^ above the
mechanical} just as antique civilisation owed its high degree
of perfection to the fact that slaves took away from the cultured
all work which could be done without free initiative, so will
modern civilisation only attain to a comparable level when
machinery has lessened man's burden. What is so terrible in
this world is the fact that life is exhausted in whatever can be
made mechanical j here the tools enslave the man who should
control them. How did this happen? Lack of population
made it necessary at first to make mechanical everything that
could be made mechanical} the profitableness of this method
then concentrated all interests more and more upon itself, so
that those things which were above mechanics seemed increas-
ingly superfluous in life and receded ever further in conscious-
ness. For unfortunately it is not true that a soulless existence
cannot give a full consciousness of life} all the powers and in-
tensity at a man's disposal can be expanded in machinery to
such an extent that precisely the man who seems inexpressibly
one-sided and pitiable to me feels himself to be an accom-
plished human being subjectively, and looks down upon the
bloodless 'soul.' one cannot fairly accuse machinery of devita-
lising men in the biological sense: the men of Chicago are vital
through and through, and they consider the conduct of their
lives superior to all others for this very reason, because it
enhances the consciousness of life as no other does* And it
really does so because it compresses all existing forces into the
narrowest channel of activity, with the result that they reach an
extraordinary degree of intensity. American business men are
real Yogis in so far as they concentrate the whole of their atten-
tion on one thing, and all the typical fruits of Yoga become
theirs in principle: such as increase of vital power and vitality
of feeling, increase of all capacities, and enlargement of the
psychic working capital. What is so awful in Americanism is
not that it devitalises men, but that it simplifies the psychic
organism to an unheard-of degree. Americanism proves that a
complete and full inner life can be lived without a soul, with-
CHAP. 69 CHICAGO 333
out intellectual interests, without cultivated feelings. O
course this can be done} no lizard, no worm longs to get beyond
his condition. When it is said that limited individuals are the
happiest, this is another way of saying: it is much simpler
within a narrow than within a wide frame to be conscious of
the whole of one's life. But limitation does not embody an
ideal j the only condition which could be called ideal is the one
in which man became conscious of himself by means of the
universe, from which he need not exclude anything to be alto-
gether himself.
What is terrible in Americanism is that it makes man a
pauper. Just as it reduces all values to the one of quantity, so
it reduces the whole soul to one apparatus for the purpose of
making money. It thus pushes man back to the level of the
lowest animal. If one regards the facts in this light, American-
ism seems something so awful that one might suppose it to be
harmless. As a matter of fact, it possesses an enormous power
of attraction, undoubtedly the greatest of its kind in our day.
It possesses this power firstly because every one cares for suc-
cess, and the American formula of life is most favourable to
it 3 the man who loses no time with ideals, ideas and feelings,
who does not know any mental and moral inhibitions, gets on
the quickest. But this is not the chief of its powers of attrac-
tion: this depends upon the fact that in the American organisa-
tion even the meanest fellow becomes conscious of the fulness
of his existence 3 this formula is so narrow, so limited, that it
gives tension to every one's vitality. And this implies a fearful
danger: to-day a low condition is held up to humanity as the
highest ideal. If this ideal is not dethroned soon, it leads in-
evitably to barbarism, and not to temporary but permanent
barbarism.
I PAID a visit to the slaughter-house; it was not a pleasant
undertaking. And yet I am glad I went: I will hardly ever see
machinery functioning with greater perfection j in these stock-
yards the extreme conceivable limit of the exploitation of men
and time seems to be attained. So little time is lost here that a
334 AMERICA PART vm
pig is despatched in some twenty minutes from life into a
sausage, a sheep is dissected in twenty-six minutes, and an ox
in thirty-five. Every workman does something definite at
regulated intervals; every one does it in the best possible
manner. Machinery transmits from man to man. In this way
a single butcher can comfortably kill half a thousand pigs that
rush past him in an hour, and everything else proceeds at a
corresponding speed.
As I stood there and looked on, I remembered Djuang-Tse's
parable of the butcher. Prince Wen Hui had a cook, who was
dismembering an ox for him. He got hold of it, pushed with
his shoulder, pressed with his foot, stemmed his knee against
it: slish-slash! the skin was divided and the knife sizzled
through the pieces of meat. Everything was done to a beat
like a dancing song, and he always cut the joints accurately.
Prince Wen Hui said: 'Excellent! That's what I call skill!'
The cook put down the knife and replied, turning to the
prince: <It is significance (Tao) which thy servant loves.^ That
is more than skill. When I began to cut animals to pieces, I
only saw animals in front of me. After three years I had got
so far that I no longer saw the animals undivided in front of
me. To-day I rely altogether upon the mind and no more
possesses metaphysical significance: it shows that the move-
ments of the hands are directly controlled by the principle of
lifej whether unity with life manifests itself in perfect slaugh-
tering, perfect recognition or perfect being, depends upon the
aim which a man sets himself. Even the butchers of Chicago,
like the cook of Prince Wen Hui, must have surrendered them-
selves to the Tao to achieve something so remarkable. But it
would be horrible if their kind of perfection should hence-
forth be regarded as the ideal of human development. The
stockyards are a terrifying instructive image of what seems
wrong in the aims of modern civilisation. The ideal relation
between body and mind would be achieved were every ex-
pression of the soul to be shown as perfectly as in the acting of
CHAP. 69 CHICAGO 335
Eleonora Duse. In our world it appears more and more that
the whole power at our disposal overflows into one tool, with
the result that while this tool achieves the incredible its owner
ceases to exist. The modern man with a purpose embodies the
precise opposite of the Indian sage: if the latter recedes alto-
gether from external life in order to be all the more real in
himself, the other renounces all inwardness in order to attain
to extreme achievement in the outer world. To him we owe the
marvel of technology, which is an unquestioned enrichment of
this wandering star} to this extent we must countenance him.
We must countenance him just as one countenances the fakir,
the snake-charmer, the clown. But one must not look up to
him. He lacks that which above all makes a man. . . . The
spiral of historical evolution has led upon a heightened level to
a reinstitution of slavery. Man is judged once more in accord-
ance with his performance alone, once more he has only a
market value, and this is true not only of compulsory labourers,
but it applies to every one, for there are no free men in the
Greek sense any longer j those among us who consider them-
selves most independent hardly regard themselves differently
from the way a Phoenician regarded his prisoners of war. Will
cannibalism revive? In our enlightened world there are un-
doubtedly fewer inhibitions of the soul to oppose this than
among superstitious savages. What Rabindranath Tagore says
is all too true: human flesh and the human soul have nowhere
been so cheap as in the modern West. No civilisation has
ever adopted so deprecatory an attitude towards the whole of
creation as ours has done, exclusively intent as it is upon
profit. If we abandon ourselves completely to the logic of this
evolutionary tendency, then intellect, as it becomes unfolded,
will strip mankind of its soul proportionately.
is not artificial man the ideal aim of the evolution which has
attained its temporary zenith in the butchers of Chicago?
Helmholtz used to say that he would show the optician to the
door who made him so imperfect an apparatus as the lens of
the human eye: in the same way it is conceivable that all objec-
336 AM E R I C A PART vtn
live performance could be executed better by some automaton
than by a living organism, and in idea this substitution by
something better can extend to the whole of man. Such an
artificial product has once been conceived: it is Halady, the
heroine of Eve Future, the visionary fiction of Villiers de 1'Isle
Adam. Villiers only fancied the possibility of creating an arti-
ficial human being in whom mechanisms of absolute precision
were substituted for living organs; and behold, it followed
necessarily that his lifeless automaton must excel in capacity
the highest life. Where even the most gifted minds make
mistakes, Halady was infallible; she reacted to every situation
in the best possible manner, she answered with unfailing cor-
rectness, and always did, in given circumstances, what was most
to the purpose, and so forth. She would have been God if
she had had a soul.
It is a fact, that progressive evolution necessarily tends to-
wards two opposite aims, that of the automaton and that of
God; and the path which is symbolised in the stockyards leads
directly to the former. If performance is to mean everything
and the soul nothing, then undoubtedly a perfect artificial
man stands above the natural one. This consideration seems
to be instructive. Our progressive evolution, which takes place
essentially independently of inner progress, has its technical
and psychological raison d'etre in the progressive intellectuali-
sation of the ^processes of life; this intellectualisation brings
about a continuous materialisation of what was originally
purely subjective. As man gains conceptual clarity concern-
ing all that lives and happens within and without him, con-
cerning its significance, and whither it could and should lead,
he rises above it, sees it outside himself, his concepts give
him the means to deal with it, and at the same time the power
to control its direction. Then he may change his wishes into
accomplished facts and his ideals into positive powers. Thus,
love and justice have been rendered objective in the West in
institutions, knowledge in technique, ability in organisations
and factories. This process, if carried on to its extreme con-
ceivable limit, would result in a complete objectification of all
the forces of life, so that subjectivity would be out of the ques-
CHAP. 70 NEW YORK 337
tion altogether, and all free strife would be anticipated by
automata.
Halady, the ideal automaton, will hardly ever be created}
but she embodies undoubtedly not only the labour ideal of
every employer (one should think of the Taylor system! ), but
also the personal ideal of many a modern man who considers
himself to be free. Such one-sidedness naturally evokes its
complementary counter-action: thus, many and they are not
the worst revere to-day as their ideal the Russian peasant,
that primitive man, who seems absolutely incapable of any
organisation, in whom no form of objectivity, not even that of
the concept of duty, meets with understanding, who obeys
exclusively his uncontrolled subjectivity. It would, however,
be wiser to centre one's ideal neither in the automaton nor in
the mujik, but in God: a being whose spiritualised soul would
be superior to all intellectual objectivity, and controlled it
from within in absolute liberty. Intellectualisation in itself is
all to the good. Even if it temporarily disintegrates much
that is of value this very disintegration gives birth to what is
more valuable still. For it is undoubtedly better to know
clearly what one does than not to know. A higher consciousness
necessarily brings about a higher world. What makes our
phase of intellectualisation a curse is that, having become
masters of external circumstances, we now have subjected
ourselves to an objectivity created by ourselves. Soon we will
rise above it, soon it is to be hoped we will recognise that
our struggle for progress, if led by the spirit of knowledge, can
lead, not to the unconsciousness of the automaton, but to
omniscience.
70
NEW YORK
A MODERN capital is very wonderful after all. We human
beings "have no longer any reason to admire ants and bees}
what they accomplish by way of co-operation, we can accom-
plish too. We too are without question made for a collective
338 AMERICA PART vm
existence. For whom is loneliness appropriate? For the saint,
the thinker j only occasionally for the artist} all the rest lead a
much more complete life together than by themselves. There
have been and there are many forms of society} every one dis-
plays specific advantages. The modern life in the great capitals
suits the modern average man as no other does. Here the speed
of life and opportunities, means and possibilities for satisfying
them, necessities and what man can wish for, correspond really
just as well as in the case of ants in their ant-hills.
I have never before found it so easy to find my way about a
metropolis as in New York. The outer necessities of life are
adjusted so perfectly that it seems one has only to want to be
anywhere and one is there already. Everything happens at a
tremendous speed, and yet one does not experience any feeling
of being rushed at any rate, one is rushed less than in London
or Berlinj one lives more rapidly, but this does not imply rest-
lessness. Not only is no time lost: life is organised so well that
one cannot lose time, and this consciousness gives to the soul
adapted to the system the same peace as the feeling of having
infinite periods of time in front of him does to the Indian.
This is the solution of the external problem of life, the only one
which is in question for the Westerner. The Indian is in-
wardly more free than we are, because he does not pay any
attention to the outer worldj he is free at the expense of his
power over it. We had to surrender our inward freedom tem-
porarily in order to gain this power, and we did so to such an
extent, and increasingly, that more and more voices arose who
clamoured for 'return.' They forgot that a 'return' is biologi-
cally impossible, and would lead to destruction all the more
quickly: once we have entered into relations with the outer
world, we must renounce it or ourselves} our mentality as
it has developed precludes the possibility, with rare exceptions,
of Indian renunciation. Our path to freedom leads over con-
quered nature. And, in fact, where nature is really conquered
the possibility of freedom appears automatically. This is
proved by New York, proved by the whole of American life
wherever it has found perfect ｅxpression. In America precisely
the ideal of the Indians is attained by precisely the opposite
CHAP.70 NEW YORK 339
way. Life here in general, compared with that in Europe, is
essentially simplified, although more importance is attached
to comfort here than there, and although it is far more wide-
spread: what is superfluous is eliminated as far as possible 5
what is essential is obtained by the most economical means;
in the restaurants, for instance, one is hardly waited upon at
all. Why? Originally this was undoubtedly due to force
majeure) the necessity of having to manage with few workers,
and to obtain from them, consistently with the greatest possible
respect for their wishes, the utmost conceivable profit} but now
the regime of simplicity exists even where it might be avoided,
because most people have grown accustomed to it and have
realised that one can live without superfluous sumptuousness,
and that on the whole one lives better in this way. Perfect
organisation achieves just as much as a state with slaves. But
whereas such a state demoralises its masters, the modern sim-
plification of life, which satisfies all reasonable wishes but
precludes a laxity at the expense of others, exercises a strength-
ening effect similar to that of asceticism.
This is, indeed, the solution of the eternal problem of life,
the only one which is in question for us Westerners. Is our
solution not the best absolutely? ... I am reminded of
another ｅxpression of the same relation, our concept of human
dignity compared with the Indo-Russian idea of the unimpor-
tance of the individual: it is undoubtedly more desirable to feel
the same respect for oneself and for others than to disregard
both equally. Metaphysically, both attitudes signify the same}
but ours alone lends appropriate ｅxpression to significance in
appearance. Not only in the life of states, but in every life,
the right to exist seems based upon the fact that it is guarded}
not because might makes right, but because its psychological
embodiment depends upon the determination guarding it. The
man who does not respect himself gives himself up in the
process no matter whether any one is there to exploit the fact.
For this reason, a progressive loss of dignity takes place among
peoples who lack the consciousness of dignity, whereas those
who respect themselves, no matter how crude originally, auto-
matically progress inwardly} for the same reason, violent
340 AMERICA PART vm
Western humanity,, and not the gentler one of Russia and
India, have induced a general condition in which one can, in
all seriousness, talk of generally accepted human rights*
+
THIS city impresses me more and more. As far as the outer
organisation of life is concerned, America, with its great centres,
is undoubtedly at the head of mankind. A considerable amount
of comfort is assured to every one without effort on his side,
and this inevitably raises the level of life. Here workmen can
make demands upon life as a matter of course which the Euro-
pean bourgeois would find extravagant* It is not merely that
he lives and dresses himself better than the European, that he
lives in better hygienic conditions: he regards it as a matter
of course that he can satisfy his mental requirements to a degree
which many a man in a higher position among us must deny
himself. Prosperity is regarded as normal in America. This
signifies something absolutely positive.
Why is it that just here, and only here so far, this solution of
the problem of life has been found, which implies the abso-
lutely best solution for us Westerners? Much has contributed
to it: the natural wealth of the country, which rewards all
struggle generously, the greater energy which is at man's dis-
posal here, and many other considerations. But above all, no
matter how strange this may sound, it has been due to religion*
All the more important, though otherwise so different, forms
of American Christianity agree in this one thing, that they
regard material success upon earth as a tolerably accurate
touchstone for the grace of God. The man who is pleasing to
God must become rich} on the other hand, the man who does
not wish to be rich does not put his talent to the exchanger,
nor does he seriously labour for the honour of Godj he who
contents himself is regarded as feeble. To what extent such a
view must stimulate religious natures, such as Americans of
Anglo-Saxon extraction usually are, is obvious, all the more so
as the ideal stimulus is given a very real background by the
banks j they are all reinsured, as it were, by religious pro-
fessions, and they gauge the amount of credit which they
CHAP.70 NEW YORK 341
give by the sect to which their clients belong, and by their
religious zeal. American Christianity lacks every form of
animosity against the wealthy. If Calvinism, compared with
Lutherism, seems worldly from the beginning, then it has
become even more so in America. At first it was said that one
had to become rich, but only for the honour of God} one was
not to enjoy one's wealth. From this, since something had to
be done with one's possessions, the paradoxical capitalistic view
developed according to which personal life was to serve im-
personal capital. Slowly the Puritanical note disappeared;
and the will to power, the desire to enjoy, became the admitted
motive for gain more and more, even here. But the religious
origin of the American attitude to possession can still be dis-
cerned clearly, the idea that divine blessedness and prosperity
are connected is still effective to-day: it is expressed in the fact
that prosperity is regarded as a normal condition, and it is
appreciated, no matter how unconsciously, in exactly the same
way as other sects value poverty and lowliness. It is not true
that wealth means the 3ummum bonum to the better Americans,
no matter how much this may apply to many of them: it means
the exponent of the best, which is something very different.
No matter what he may understand by this highest: the grace
of God, self-determined personality, or energy and daring pure
and simple prosperity seems to him the normal condition of
God's elect, and this gives a spiritual background and a mean-
ing to the struggle for earthly goods which rob it of all odium.
Thus, the rich man is not hated but admired by the poor in
America; thus, the man who has grown rich regards it as a
matter of course to spend sums for the general good which
would horrify every European who could afford to do the
same.
It is very easy to find words of mockery concerning a philos-
ophy which regards earthly and material success as a gauge of
divine grace, be it only for the one reason that the structure of
dogma which contains it can hardly bear the gentlest criticism.
The physical resurrection of Jesus is not an unchallengeable
pillar of faith. However it seems wiser to understand that the
new version of the problem of the mutual relation of matter
342
AMERICA PART vxir
and spirit implies a Copernican deed of such immense im-
portance that its possible consequences cannot be estimated as
yet. Ideals are not fixed, presupposed, and permanently ex-
istent: man places them into the world from within, and accord-
ing to what and how he idealises, so does appearance receive
a new meaning} the same phenomenon, according to the way it
is understood, thus becomes the ｅxpression of the lowest or the
highest. Until now, wealth was regarded as anti-spiritual^or as
spiritually neutral, which, in fact, is the most obvious attitude.
It is anti-spiritual in so far as a struggle for earthly goods leads
in the opposite direction as the struggle for inwardness and
because possession of wealth facilitates a life of pleasure j it is
spiritually neutral in so far as it certainly does not assist the
life of the spirit from the outset, even if it does not hinder it.
The higher religions have on the whole adopted a disapproving
attitude to prosperity. This has been good either where
poverty was a normal condition, as in the case of Northern
Europe until recently, where all material aspiration was con-
demned to failure to begin with, or in those hot climes, where
aspiration is opposed to nature. As soon as effort is generally
accompanied by success, as soon as wealth appears as a generally
attainable aim, wherever, moreover, struggle as such belongs
to the national character, an unworldly view of life is deroga-
tory. Since ninety-nine out of a hundred men prefer comfort
to perfection, the continuance of ascetic ideals necessarily leads
to a constant opposition between intimate volition and presup-
posed duty, which is a state of affairs inevitably followed by
evil consequences. The man who abides by the traditional
ideals has a bad conscience continually which is the most un-
desirable thing which could happen to any onej the man who
despairs of these ideals thus despairs of ideals altogether, and
becomes a crass materialist} and he who doubts them but does
not despair, acquires that fundamental trait of inward frailty
which characterises the modern man of culture more than any-
thing else} and all of them lack that idealism which alone leads
up and on. What is to be done to evade this evil? Two ways,
and no more, are open. The one consists in renouncing the
struggle after material good, the other in sanctifying this
CHAP.70 NEW YORK 343
struggle. The first, which is preached and embarked upon
again and again, does not lead to the goal and cannot lead there,
because renunciation is unnatural to the Westerner j not one
among a million of white men will choose poverty when wealth
seems attainable. Therefore, only the other way remains.
Western humanity has marched along this path already for a
long time. Christianity has risen in a more worldly shape from
every reform. If Catholicism permitted living in the world,
although it regarded the monastic life as higher, Luther denied
the monastic ideal and pronounced professional and married life
as sanctified. Still, he did not preach struggle for success in
the world, but contentment within the limits of the given po-
sition in life 5 he regarded suffering as higher than action.
Calvin went further: he raised action above suffering, in fact
he made this a duty; then, however, he hallowed and this is
the derisive factor efficacy as the touchstone of the chosen.
Thus, spiritual significance was awarded once and for all to
success, and the breach between 'would' and 'should' seemed
healed in principle. In point of fact, this healing did not
take place so soon, because the rigid Biblical faith of the
old Calvinism was opposed to it, and the decisive factor
had not yet been sufficiently developed in the concepts of
the older sects. This work was done by those that fol-
lowed after, and especially the youngest are achieving this
with most success. No matter how naive, how crude, the
concept of the Christian Scientist, and the various sects of
New Thought may be in detail these religious bodies have
the immense merit that they definitely accomplish the em-
bodiment of the spiritual ideal in temporal struggle, and in
that simplest form which alone can influence the masses. If
it is taught briefly and simply that the man who discovers
Christ within him will become rich, healthy, an accomplished
being in this life, then this doctrine may perhaps be open
to criticism but it undoubtedly has a good effect upon the
masses j it teaches the possibility of uniting their struggle
for the goods of this world with ideal aspirations. Hence
the immense success of these doctrines, and, on the whole, their
very, beneficial influence. Nietzsche aimed in principle at the
344 AMERICA PART vin
same thing as New Thought, and his doctrines are more satis-
fying philosophically 5 most of the more recent philosophies,
whether religious or a-religious, aspire to similar ends* But
the American has the immeasurable advantage that it preserves
the old concepts of faith, and only gives them a new meaning
(this also applies to that of William James} it presupposes,
perhaps without knowing it, the fundamental ideas of Neo-
Christianity). It will never be possible to overcome Christi-
anity in us; atavism more than a thousand years old is opposed
to such a claim j all new ideas will have to be embodied in old
forms more or less openly in order to attain far-reaching
efficacy. The singular greatness of John Calvin's deed con-
sists in having built the bridge between the modern spirit and
the old concepts: it is the aim of all later religious com-
munities to embody the modern spirit more and more in them.
And that they are really on the right track is clear even
to-day. Not only are there no happier and less problematical
human beings than those who have been produced by these
concepts they are the most ideally minded} they above all are
destined to give that spiritual content to modern life which
on the whole it still lacks so very much.
America has progressed along this road already so far to-day
that prosperity is regarded as the normal condition- Thus,
an unquestioned advance has, practically and ideally, been
achieved from the point of view of this world: if the general
alternative is put of choosing between superfluity or indigence,
then the former is to be preferred. No matter how much better
frugality may be than dependence upon certain favourable con-
ditions, and especially than suffering from discontentment on
the whole it is certain that the lack of desire is not beneficial
to the sons of this earth, that the disposition to it is not a privi-
lege, and, if forcibly acquired, rarely has good results. For
the man who wants nothing is generally meanly endowed}
every organ longs for occupation, every impulse for an oppor-
tunity of ｅxpression} the man who contents himself surrenders
his possibilities of growth. And even worse} not only can
most talents not unfold themselves freely in narrow circum-
stances, which impede the development of the noblest quali-
CHAP.70 NEW YORK 345
tiesj a free, fully developed humanity has always flourished
only upon the soil of contentment. Why? Because the re-
quirements of nature, so long as they exist, cannot be made to
evanesce by principles, because they have to be satisfied so that
the spirit can attain to its freedom. If they are not satisfied,
inhibition takes place, repression and auto-poisoning of the
soul} what could have been perfected in beauty grows into an
ugly malformation. Thus, repressed sensuousness inevitably
leads to obscene images, embittered hurt leads to spiteful
revenge j thus, poverty, painfully experienced, inevitably devel-
ops envy, ill-will and resentment* This, then, hallows materi-
alism in our era: the way for a nobler life is actually prepared
by striving consciously only for the best possible conditions of
life for every one. The more satisfactory these conditions are,
the less food there is for the ugly, the more there is for the
noble. ^ A general external condition is conceivable in which ill-
will, mistrust and resentment, having become meaningless, will
seem incapable of existence. To this extent, poverty can in-
deed be regarded as an absolute evil, and the struggle for
wealth, according to the American Christian doctrine, as more
pleasing in the sight of God than contentment with given con-
ditions. The present unsatisfactory condition of white human-
ity is not due to the fact that it has needs, still less that it cannot
satisfy them on the contrary, no other human beings have
lived in anything like equally advantageous conditions: it is
due to the fact that contentment is not yet a matter of course to
them. This unhappy transitional stage will soon have been
overcome. Then, however, it will appear that the fruits, which
hitherto have fallen only to the lot of him who renounces the
world, can also be shared by him who affirms it, and that, no
matter how little happiness can be regarded as the goal of
human aspiration, it is yet the best means to its attainment.
+
THERE can, however, be no doubt that in America the chasm
between external progressiveness and inner perfection is even
wider than in Europe. In the process of transplantation the old
roots of the Europeans were mutilated and the newly formed
346 AMERICA PART vm
have not yet penetrated sufficiently deeply into the ground j
also, in the main mass ungrafted plants were transplanted
which, in the richer soil, without schooling have even lost in
raciness: therefore, it is not surprising that higher civilisation
corresponds to a lower level of culture. In the old world, too,
perfection of institutions means little enough in relation to
man. The objectification of ideal demands in institutions has,
for all its advantages, brought about the disadvantage that
they have lost in subjective efficacy. We are more super ficial
than the Indians, because the spiritual forces among us have
been drawn towards the surface where they now function
automatically without necessarily drawing the soul into co-
operation, whereas, in the case of the Indians, the spiritual
forces operate from the depths, and therefore, where they are
vital at all, they influence the innermost being. But in the case
of the European it still remains noticeable that the external
has been derived from within. Take the most pronounced
man-of-purpose: if he belongs to an old race, he possesses the
humanism of our classics, the idealism of the age of discoveries,
the high ethics of the Middle Ages, and, ultimately, classical
culture as his living background j this, however, gives him a
mental atmosphere and lends a significance to his actions which
exists even when it escapes his consciousness completely. Thus,
one feels the possibility of profundity through all European
superficiality, in every mechanical organisation the possibility
of animation by the soul; one has the same feeling, in the case
of external institutions which do not directly point to inward
content, that one has towards new organs which one does not
as yet know how to employ: one feels that one cannot manage
them yet, but that one will be able to ere long. Our history
vouches for this. The Louvre vouches for the fact that the
Eiffel Tower will one day be a living symbol, the cathedrals
guarantee that factories will one day serve the spirit. one
does not experience this comforting feeling in America. Most
of its facts are nothing but facts without living significance and
without a background.
This feeling is undoubtedly only justified with reservations:
there is no difference of nature, but only of degree, between
CHAP.70 NEW YORK 347
American and European conditions. No matter how extrava-
gantly the American universities have been equipped, they
are wanting in mental atmosphere. The American show build-
ings are without symbolism, the Americans themselves are
superficial to the point of soullessness, because the discrepancy
between externals and internals, which also exists among us, is
even greater. The Americans are inwardly more crude and
more youthful than we are, and externally they have gone
further: thus, the disadvantages of this unbalanced equilibrium
are more obvious. This would be quite in order, and no word
would be wasted on it, if the new world, instead of striving
to emulate the old, did not run ahead and were not developing
more and more into an example for it. This state of affairs
causes anxious thought.
I recall to my mind all the positive and negative factors which
I have observed in the United States, and the many com-
parisons between the East and the West which I have made,
and the general trend of ideas which have become more and
more precise in my consciousness in the course of my wander-
pression for it. It is, of course, desirable that it should acquire
this; nothing would be more foolish than wishing to deny
it. When this has happened, however, the problem of life
is not solved, but it arises in an unaltered shape. The only
absolute ideal of individualised life is determined by the con-
cept of perfection. Perfection is further removed from the
most advanced modern individual than from any other being.
He is further from it not merely than the Chinese, than the
ancients and the men of the Middle Ages, he is further from it
than the Australasian negro, and much further from it than
every animal and every plant. As long as he does not see this,
but remains subject to the illusion that, thanks to his 'prog-
ress,' he will get essentially further, no external gain will
contribute to his inner welfare. His humanity will continue
to grow more superficial and to shrivel up in proportion as
his means increase. If, on the other hand, he recognises this,
348 AMERICA PART vin
and turns to the only true goal of humanity, then, but only
then, what has hitherto been a calamity will turn out to be a
blessing. It is not necessary that material power, evil as it is in
itself, should hurt the soul, it is not true that intellectual force
is destructive, the former can become the organ of divine
goodness, the latter a means of spiritual regeneration. It is a
mistake to think that the mobility of our life precludes its
profundity, for all life is mobile j it is not true that our aspira-
tions towards the unlimited make perfection impossible in
principle, since perfection is confined to limits, for the limits
of aspiration and those of the aspiring individual are two
different things $ every individual will find his limits quite
early enough. From the point of view of the spirit, it is all
the same whether a man has a solid or a fluid body. If only we
get to the point of becoming perfect in our own way, if we can
make the marvellously manifold manifestations of our body
altogether the means of ｅxpression for the spirit, then we too
will have reached our goal.
We must strive after perfection, after perfection alone* Not
after 'renewal,' the pet solution of modern improvers of the
world. To strive after renewal means expecting salvation
from a new special manifestation a new myth, a new form of
life, a new type of man, who is to emanate from the old. But
if one thing is certain it is this, that salvation cannot come any
more from that quarter. The ideal of renewal means nothing
but the extreme sublimation of the ideal of progress; it might
help so long as man had not yet learned to perceive ^eing*
directly. In those days, the birth of a new form really meant
the revelation of new content. Externally only ^progress* took
place in the step from ancient heathenism to the faith of Chris-
tianity, but this process brought with It simultaneously 'per-
fection' in so far as the masses became much more profoundly
conscious of themselves by this new inner form. Nevertheless,
even then, conversion meant roughly what an auxiliary con-
struction means in geometryj Marcus Aurelius, as he was, was
no worse a man than St. Ambrose; he would not have gained
by changing his faithj even then such a proceeding was of
advantage only to the ignorant. To-day, however, most people
CHAP. 70 NEW YORK 349
know much too much to gain by a change of form, too much
to take a form so seriously that it can exercise its formative
power to the full. If a spiritual genius should arise to-morrow
who proclaimed the best possible religion, his action would
not mean anything like as much as that of Luther} since men
are beginning to be conscious of significance in itself, it be-
comes time for them to put the problem differently. It is no
more a question of our placing new forms into the world, in
order to realise ourselves more profoundly by their means, but
of striving directly after the realisation of being, and this
means: after giving ｅxpression to one's deepest and innermost
content in any frame. If man strives after fulfilment, after
perfection only, then the rest happens of its own accord. Then
it is inevitable that, according to the circumstances, 'renewal'
takes place as 'conversion,' or 'rebirth'} then the new historical
manifestation will arise of its own accord if the time demands
it. No matter how few in number may be consciously beyond
name and form, unconsciously we are all beyond themj mani-
festation in itself can never be an ultimate aim to us any
more.
We should strive after perfection, after perfection alone.
As Westerners we are specific creatures of exclusive disposition,
who must fulfil their special destiny. We will never escape
from our physiological limits, it will never benefit us to be
unfaithful to ourselves} every attempt to escape the barriers
set for us by history can only do harm. We should not wish
to destroy what we have created, nor undertake violent changes
from theoretical considerations, but we should develop organi-
cally towards the condition which beckons to our special aspira-
tions as its crowning reward. But we should, now that we
have recognised that our empirical aim is no purpose in itself,
and our peculiarity no absolute values, learn to live directly
in and from being. only then, but then with certainty, will
'progressiveness' lead to the ｅxpression of the 'one thing which
is needful,' and thus become the advanced outpost upon the
road to the goal of humanity. Then it will appear that, no
matter how much misfortune we have brought upon this world,
thanks to our mad struggle to subjugate the whole of creation
350 AMERICA PART vin
to our peculiarity, it is true, nevertheless, that we are destined
to a high mission. For then, thanks to us, the unity of the
whole of life, its indestructible essential cohesion, will be
impressed upon the realm of appearances as never before.
This impression India has never even attempted. The achieve-
ment of China, so admirable in other ways, failed because it
countenanced only Chinamen as human beings. But as far as
the aspirations towards the universality of the West are con-
cerned, they broke down because, in spite of the correctness of
their general tendency, they failed to make the right assumption
from which general and special problems can be solved simul-
taneously. Those of later antiquity tended to eclecticism and
syncretism.} as Christians they subscribed to the delusion that
one Church could embrace the whole of the human race; in
the seventeenth century they took shape in the vague idea that
all manifestations of thought and belief were manifestations of
a single 'natural light,' which was equally innate in every one,
and they ran dry in the eighteenth century in the shallow aspira-
tions towards equality. We now possess the beginnings from
which ^ alone the particular can be determined by the whole j
the obj edification, which the mental forces experienced through
us, has produced the only tenable connection between the world
of ideas and that of appearances. Our recognition is objec-
tive} the connections which have been discovered between vari-
ous phenomena exist independently of all opinion; the laws
which we have discovered are valid in themselves; it is there-
fore possible ^ henceforth that life will be understood and
formed, not ^in accordance with a personal formula, but in
accordance with its own meaning. Humanity has risen to a
level of consciousness through us which necessarily towers
above name and form. Thus the ground has been taken away
for evermore from mental exclusiveness, and a general condi-
tion has been prepared in which everything single, however
convinced it be in the pursuit of its particular aim, can yet recog-
nise itself as a member of the whole. Even to-day it is possible
for every one to gain certainty concerning the significance and
importance of any appearances in their general connection, and
consequently it is also virtually possible to assert oneself in this
CHAP.70 NEW YORK 35*
general connection j even to-day a man need not reject what is
alien in order to be unconcernedly himself. All this must ulti-
mately lead to an enlargement unheard of in history of the
basis of life, and simultaneously to an unprecedented pro-
fundity in each individual tendency of life. Previously, it was
a question of either national feeling or world-citizenship, but
soon the one will condition the otherj the various types of cul-
ture and belief will learn to respect each other more and more
as complementary} *the other man or P of earlier stages will be
transmuted to an ever greater extent in conscious co-operation.
And this will happen almost independently of all good-will,
because life is a cohesive whole in itself, and the fact of having
become conscious of a real relation inevitably involves an ever-
enhanced representation of it in the realm of appearances, be-
cause objectivity grows into an ever-closer network of con-
nections. In the form of knowledge, money, mutual economic
dependency, the foundations are already there on which under-
standing is inevitable in principle} the same will soon be true
of our concepts of right and law. Such objectivity reacts in
its turn upon subjectivity. An ever-increasing number of the
leading minds deny all natural or cultural exclusiveness, the
feeling for unity among the working classes all over the world
is growing more powerful daily} one blessed day the whole
of humanity will wake up to feel its absolute solidarity, not-
withstanding all necessary struggle and counter-struggle. To
bring about this better world not to Westernise the whole
of creation is the mission of us Westerners} our special physi-
ology, our history destines us, of all men, to translate into
life what so far the Indians have recognised most profoundly.
But the formula of our life as such remains one among many,
and even if we may believe that it is the happiest from the
angle of the realisation of spirit, because on the one hand it
demands the complete penetration of appearance by signifi-
cance, and on the other because it permits in idea the most all-
embracing manifestation, we must never forget that no
phenomenon sums up the others, that no value exhausts all
values, that no kind of perfection excludes the rest, that totality
is the aim of all development, and that the individual can
352 AMERICA PART vm
never achieve more than his own perfection within narrow
limits.
The symphony of the spirit upon earth should, in accordance
with reasonable prevision, resound with ever-increasing beauty*
The individual voices should make themselves heard ever more
purely, harmonise ever better with each other, and be attuned
to ever-fuller basic tones. The original chaotic and occasion-
ally baroque, and then again essentially differentiated creation,
should find its final ｅxpression in perfect classicism, in that
monumental simplicity which contains all wealth within it.
Change is the way of life, it has appeared different and new
again and again. If its development were guided henceforth
by an ever more profoundly self-conscious mind, then tem-
porary forms must give way more and more to ultimate ones,
and differentiation must slowly turn into integration/ How-
ever, reasonable expectations are not always fulfilled. The old
Greek conception that the chief object of the gods was to
eradicate everything noble upon earth, unfortunately does
more justice to the nature of reality than the idea of Providence*
A stupid accident may cut off evolution at any time, catas-
trophes, plagues or barbarians may rob the spirit again and
again of its best bearers, and we may remain at the stage of
attempts until the earth disappears. This planet has ever been
the site of beginning, not of fulfilment* Towards the end of
the Greek era the age of ultimate universality seemed to have
begun, and barbarisation resulted j individualistic culture flour-
ished in Greece, in Italy during the Renaissance, and it is flour-
ishing again to-day, and just as the earlier suddenly died out,
the ^same may happen again this time. The evolution of the
spirit has no reliable means in this world, in which a thousand
different and mutually inimical evolutionary tendencies cross
one another. But the real aim of the spirit does not lie in this
world. The infinite, which we try to express within the finite,
escapes us eternally; perfection, to which everything alive
strives as its highest fulfilment, is not fulfilment in the earthly
1 1 have treated this change of dimension, which is taking place even now in
the world's evolution, at length in my lecture 'Weltanschauung und Lebensge-
staltung (der Leuchtcr, 1924).
CHAP.7P NEW YORK 333
sense, for failure dogs us and death 5 no ideal was ever com-
pletely realised if attainment within the limits of time and
space were our goal, then all idealism would be senseless. But
this is not so. The significance of idealism is grounded in
another, more spiritual world, to which we belong more essen-
tially than to this one, and all aspiration here below only
serves to grow in spirit: on the way to the goal, which is an
imaginary aim in the sense of time, that which is our very own
becomes realised. We are told to want to found the kingdom
of heaven upon earth j the more nearly we approach this end by
overcoming material resistance, the mightier does the spirit
become ; the kingdom of heaven might possibly manifest itself
completely upon the earth when it has been made perfect. But
the perfection of the earth is not an end in itself: it is important
to understand this, not to be unjust to reality. There is no
doubt whatever that all life ends in death, that all perfection is
perishable, short-lived and without a future, regarded from the
temporal point of view. But time does not matter. In every
perfect realisation of life the eternal becomes actualised, and
that essential aim is attained for which development in time
was only the means. To this extent one can say that progress
in idea is more essential than real progress, although the former
is realised only in the latter, and that it is not of intrinsic im-
portance whether cosmic accidents permit full realisation to the
spirit upon earth. We may believe Master Eckhart when he
declares: c lf thou do not fail in intention, but only in capacity,
verily! thou hast done all in the sight of God.'
THE ship which bears me home to Europe is just passing the
Statue of Liberty. To how many has this sight not promised
a new and a better life! For how many millions does it not
symbolise their ideal! I remember the conversations which I
have had with emigrants: there was not one among them who
was not filled with pride by the fact that he was a free Amer-
ican. ... I cannot see anything ideal in the condition of the
new world j it is not really more free than the old one. Not
freedom so much as arbitrariness predominates in it the arbi-
354 AMERICA PART vin
trariness, not of one, as in Asiatic despotism, but of every
individual, which is not better. The universal franchise has
recalled to life the right of physical might in a refined form:
through playing upon moods and instincts, through sugges-
tion and the mechanical result of clever intrigues, it is now
being decided who is to govern, and this method of arriving
at a decision differs from the method of the days of robber-
knights, precisely as seduction differs from violation. The
corruption and corruptibility of officials are not much rarer
phenomena than in Russia. The 'will of the people' expresses
itself ofi the whole as the rule of incompetence. The power
which is not given to superior men has fallen to the lot of
machines (trusts, the caucus, franchise organisations) and the
assumption of the equality of every one, not only before God
and the law, but before men, has lowered the general level to
an extraordinary degree. Most of the advantages of America
over Europe to which I have pointed in my observations exist
at present only in idea. . . , And yet I too see a symbol in the
Statue of Liberty: it signifies the first, however mistaken, em-
bodiment of the political ideal.
Every man is essentially freej that is to say, his innermost
being is subject only to his own determination. Of the two
sinners who languished to death on either side of the cross,
Jesus could promise paradise only to one, the one whose will
met His half-wayj He could not do anything for the other,
who shut his heart against Him. No power from outside ex-
tends down to the deepest subjectivity. Thus, one has only
really convinced him who does not merely give way to the
pressure of suggestion, but who has chosen independently what
one has pointed out to him; in this way one may well violate a
woman, but never force her to willing surrender, and only he
really possesses her to whom she gave herself of her own free
will. This innermost, purely autonomous self is not, however,
from the very start, the centre of the conscious personality:
originally it exists only in the form of a germ, it develops
gradually, grows slowly into the personality, and one cannot
say that a man's life is actuated by inner freedom until this self
has been fused with the centre of his personality. A young
CHAP.70 NEW YORK 355
soul reacts merely instinctively to outside influences j its real
self is asleep, and when it wakes it lacks initiative. It cannot
do more than say yes or no to what happens to it, and as such
judgments emanate only exceptionally from recognition j where
intellect is hardly existent, it has to be guided. At this stage,
pure force, directed by insight, which disregards all intention
and desire, is the best treatment. At a higher level force can
be supplanted by the reaction of psychic ties faith, preju-
dices, concepts of duty and this reaction from the outside is
accepted passively, but yet in conscious agreement. Here man
experiences his being directly in the reflected image of objec-
tivity which calls out his answers. on the highest level, which
corresponds to the perfected birth of the self, man cannot recog-
nise any external motive as ultimate. Here he knows that,
whatever one might force him to, whatever he might do by
instinct, nothing really happens through him so long as his
free will does not take the initiative in the intelligent conscious-
ness of what he wants himself; here he lives directly, not
merely indirectly, at the instance of his own freedom. It is
only at this stage that he is really free. He who has risen to
this level no longer wants to force others, either to violate them
or to influence them by suggestion, since the same applies in-
trinsically to all. His wish to influence others merely takes the
form of guiding the freedom of every one to its own perfection.
This process of development of the individual has its reflection
in social life. The more developed a nation is, the more re-
sistance does it offer to any purely external influence. Thus,
all Governments see themselves compelled to take the will of
those they rule more and more into account, and the wisest of
them deliberately aim at educating the people to complete
autonomy.
In the case of nations, just as in that of individuals, this
process does not proceed along a straight course, but in the form
of an agitated, frequently broken curve, whose lines some-
times point backwards, through periods of stagnation j and as
men in process of growth are never clear as to what they really
want, they commit mistakes. Thus the emancipation of the
spirit has led first of all to the rejection of all inherited wisdom,
356 AMERICA PART vm
to immorality, positivism, nihilism philosophies which are
infinitely more foolish than those handed down from times
of greater limitation. Thus the emancipation of nations,
which leads to the deliberate destruction of the old order, which
had grown up organically from cumulative experience, occa-
sions at first more mischief than good. In both cases the same
misunderstanding dominated: they thought that the content of
the old laws and regulations was wrong, whereas, in point of
fact, it was true and justified 5 what they had to change was
merely the state of affairs which had been forced upon them
externally; the developed individual wants to do of his own
accord what the undeveloped individual has to be compelled
to do. If the former does not require any prejudices, any dog-
matic beliefs, any principles or concepts of duty, and
actually lives without them, this is due to the fact that princi-
ples, dogmas and duties are the objectification of what the
spirit wants profoundly and ultimately itself and as such they
are, of course, insufficient, because never exhaustive, never un-
challengeable and always rigid and inflexible 5 the man who is
free, however, lives directly and consciously from his inward
being, where volition is the creative cause of all ideas of duty*
It is true that the man who is perfectly free symbolises an ideal
which in the course of history has been realised only on very
rare occasions. The development of the soul does not begin by
the growth of nature-like directness man in his natural condi-
tion knows nothing of himself j but it happens that the objectiv-
ity which the mind produces from itself corresponds with in-
creasing accuracy to the aspiration of the latter, just as the disso-
lution of objectivity also only succeeds stage by stage. The
goal, however, is to get beyond all necessity of mediation
everywhere, to live directly out of one's inmost depth, to con-
centrate one's consciousness in it so perfectly that the personal
wishes reflect its forms of growth, that one can say with St.
Paul: it is not I who live, but God lives in me. This is achieved
only by him who has conquered his personality, who has become
so profoundly inward that he finds his highest bliss, not in satis-
fied self-interest, but in sacrifice, in giving without wanting to
take again, in God-like spontaneity.
CHAP.70 NEW YORK 357
The desire for freedom is awakened generally, as has been
said, before recognition is ripe, before it is aware of what it
means, how it is expressed, and this necessarily brings with it
temporary coarsening and superficiality. The New World
illustrates this state of things with terrifying clarity. The
Americans have understood less than any one else that, if the
barriers which were imposed from without are to be removed,
this is not for the purpose of dispensing with barriers alto-
gether, but that they must give way to others which have been
chosen freely. They do not want it as yet to be true that the
traditional orders among men, however conventional in detail,
express realities j that differences in the age of the soul, in
character, in talent, and even in inherited position, are some-
thing just as real as the differences between chemical elements,
and that no God, as long as he remains in the sphere of nature,
can act contrary to its laws; they want to be free without taking
empirical reality into account. The consequence is that life,
instead of becoming more self-determined in a wider frame,
loses its autonomous nature progressively. In the most modern
democracy actions are determined mechanically to a degree
which never existed under ancient tyranny: there, at any^rate,
something living took the decision, good or evil; here accident
decides, the force of circumstances, the conjunction of events;
here life is absolutely dependent on inorganic forces, as the
ignorant chemist is dependent on the 'sweet will' of his in-
gredients; if an explosive is compounded by his blind hands, he
is blown up. But this experience had to be gone through.
only overpaid recognition is a permanent possession for
humanity.
Some day or other, democracy will have been overcome.
Then, however, it will be revealed, to the surprise of many,
that humanity was conscious once more, in following its dark
instincts (<in ihrem dunklen Drang' Goethe), of being on
the right track. That lack of outer barriers which conditions
tyranny and barbarism in America to-day will grant to a
humanity of the highest inward culture the corresponding
frame of life. Humanity will have acquired so much know-
ledge by then that its attitude to the soul will not differ from
358 AMERICA PART vin
our attitude to nature. It will countenance psychic facts in
exactly the same way as material ones; it will grant the man
who inwardly is on a higher level the higher external position
as a matter of course, without strife, well aware of the fact that
it is just as senseless to decide a man's value by a majority
vote as to decide the question of the existence of Selenium.
Humanity will set its own limits, as a matter of course,
wherever it needs them. Thus, imposed barriers will no
longer be necessary. And then something surprising will
happen: the idea which underlies democracy at its extreme
will prove itself, not only true in principle, but demonstrable
in appearance. What is its ultimate meaning? No other than
that the spirit is more powerful than nature; that no natural
limitation is insurmountable, that there is a divinely creative
power in the soul of man. And this is really so. And if this is
correct, if humanity will get so far one day that it can live
entirely in the spirit, then it will no longer need to recognise
any order of nature as unalterable; then what today is re-
futed by all facts will be found true. Those differences be-
tween men which I compared with those between chemical
elements, do not really imply ultimate truths; tradition, talent
and race are not insurmountable: it is possible to overcome them
by the spirit. In single cases this has always happened. No
race was ever responsible for the genius the very greatest men
were always accidents from the standpoint of nature, pure
children of the spirit, just as no nature has ever produced a
saint; a saint is, on the contrary, the result of the conquest of
nature. To-day, however, this overcoming of nature is already
taking place far and wide, and to a greater extent and in a
higher degree than is supposed; and this contributes to the chaos
of our time; even to-day the necessary connection between
determination by nature and inner calling, which used to be so
firm, has been loosened in principle. only with the greatest
uncertainty can one deduce a man's talents from his ancestry
in the modern West; it seems progressively more easy to rise
to any level from any natural basis. And that does not mean
that one degenerates; it means, rather, that the spirit is gain-
ing the victory over nature more and more* This overcoming
D NEW YORK 359
of original limitations takes place on the grandest scale, and
it takes place correspondingly crudely and summarily in Amer-
ica, the melting-pot o races and traditions. The result so
far is not one of general advantage, because most of those
who want to get beyond their nature have attained to so
little dominion over her that emancipation has stripped them
of their best possibility of culture. That will change. The
more spiritual we become, the more independent will we be
of tradition. The miraculous effects of Yoga fall to the lot,
not only of individuals, but also of groups and nations. Just
as the Indians, in spite of their lesser genius, have gone further
in self -recognition than we have, by absorbing themselves
more profoundly in their beingj just as the righteous will
have no precedence at the gate of heaven over the sinner j just
as it can happen to every one to be reborn in the spirit, an
event which severs all the ties set up by physical birth: just
so it may happen that precisely where humanity seems most
deeply entangled in matter its vanguard will first get beyond
all the bonds of nature. Yes, it will surely be like that: the
spiritual part of man is strengthened in battle, and unfolds it-
self all the more completely and freely, the more resistance
is overcome. Thus, our present materialism is verily the
guarantee for our future spirituality. The suitable body for
this has already been prepared in America of to-day. Human-
ity of to-morrow will undoubtedly live in an external condi-
tion which will resemble most closely that of the United States.
It will not recognise any rigid forms, and will allow absolute
self-determination to every one. It will, in rising above all
nature, and in taking account only of what springs from the
spirit, even realise the ideal of equality. In the United
States the outer form has run far ahead of its content which
happens always where it does not lag behind. It corresponds
less to the Americans than it would to the Chinese, the only
people who have ever come close to the cultural ideal. Slowly,
very slowly, the soul grows into its body. It takes longer than
the reverse process, because, whereas the body must do what
the soul wishes, the soul is not directly subject to the former's
volition. If the soul, however, has developed as far as outer
360 AMERICA PAKT vm
form anticipated, then it possesses perfect means of ｅxpression.
Then it appears to be without any inhibitions whatever. Then
what democracy wrongly supposes will turn out to be true of
the man of to-day. Then it will have been proved that the
spirit is truly the master of nature. . . .
The Statue of Liberty disappears in the grey distance. once
more I float upon the endless sea. Yet a little while and I will
be back again whence I set out. I will be back in that Europe-
which seemed so young to me when I contemplated it against
the background of Asia, and which appeared so old when I
compared it with what is going on in America, pregnant with
our future.
PART NINE: HOME onCE MORE
71
RAYKI?LL
HOME once more. I feel as after a heavy storm at sea: as
long as it lasts I can keep going, but as soon as I step on
land the ground sways beneath me and I succeed only with
difficulty in maintaining my equilibrium. In this way the
outer world confuses me where it does not move about me any
longer. I must see that I exchange the consciousness of the
traveller as rapidly as possible for that of the resident. During
my travels I have treated the outer world as a mere reaction;
at home this is impossible. Wherever I surrender myself, I
return to myself unchanged} wherever I look out, my own
likeness looks me in the face; everything in Raykiill bears the
stamp of my spirit or of that of my race- This oppresses me.
It seems to me as if I were a captive. And so I am: here I will
have to persevere in a particular form of existence; here I am
responsible in a definite way; here I may not be Proteus. . . -
Of course, my natural being, my hereditary Adam, takes
quite a different attitude to my return: he feels himself height-
ened like Antaeus by the renewal of contact with the soil from
which he sprang, in which he is rooted, and in which he is
accustomed to act. It seems to him as if the progress made by
Raykiill was his own progress, as if he himself had grown in
the trees, as if his own nature had been improved by the irri-
gation of unfruitful moors. This may be granted to him- but
what is happiness to me? My thoughts go back to the motives
which drove me out into the wide world. At that time I went
forth to escape the natural man. This aim I feel I have
achieved. No matter how vital he has remained, he will never
control me again, never again reach out beyond his sphere.
There is hardly any danger any more for me that I will crystal-
lise into a personality, or that I will take seriously any special
manifestation inside or outside myself. I may therefore prob-
ably countenance nature in me henceforth with less concern.
only he who is not free entrenches himself against her or flees
before her: the free man need exclude, need condemn nothing.
363
364 HOME PART ix
No doubt in future, when the transitional period has been
overcome, a fuller personal life than I have led before awaits
me. only the transitional period. ... In the beginning it
will not be easy for me to give my conscious consent to living
as a definite being. Proteus revolts against it But must he too
not learn to keep still. If I supported him within me above
everything else, it was from fear of crystallisation: since this
has been obviated he can no longer embody an ideal for me.
It is now my business to reveal the same superiority in a durable
manifestation as formerly in a changing one. External barriers
oppress me still too easily. If I were quite free inwardly, then
I would be no more afraid of ties and limitations than I would
have need of them, then I would not feel such an imperious
desire for external freedom. Much of that which seems free
in me is in reality only a variety of bondage. I am still all too
dependent upon my independence. I must be able to sur-
render myself at will completely to my particularised exist-
ence, to become completely one with a definite form, to control
my inclinations, feelings and interests completely. I must get
so far that I am not only unfettered by name and form, but
can allow myself to be tied down at wilL
But now to the main problem: have I come nearer to self-
realisation on returning from my wanderings? I must be
nearer to it. Every single possibility of life which I have ex-
perienced has made me more clearly conscious of what is essen-
tial in the metaphysical sense and what is not. I, as an indi-
vidual, have remained the same, whether I experienced as an
Indian or a Chinese, as a Christian or a Buddhist; I now know,
from living experience, that the essential truth lives beyond the
sphere of definite manifestation. It is a question of presup-
position whether this or that form manifests itself} it depends
upon the purpose one has set oneself whether one places a
higher value on this one or the other. For the outer formation
of life, for purposes of objective scientific recognition, the soul
of the European is the most serviceable; an Indian, for realisa-
tion in the psychic sphere, a Chinese for rendering concrete
an idea, a Japanese for the esthetic understanding of nature,
and so on. No formula is the highest in the metaphysical sense,
CHAP.7I RAYKULL 365
every one represents a possible ｅxpression of the absolute,
every special ｅxpression involves specific limits. The various
souls which I acquired have remained mine as possible atti-
tudes of my own self; my nature has become correspondingly
richer. Thanks to the recognition of the ways of metem-
psychosis, my being, which perseveres through all the trans-
migrations of the soul, has become clear to me as a photo-
graphic negative to such an extent that I think daily: the
positive side must reveal itself even to-day. But it has not yet
appeared. At the moment I do not feel more but less secure
than heretofore. Too much in me is in the ferment of change
and transposition. That will cease. The processes of nature
take their course. They need much time. Let them have it.
I, however, will wait in silent trust.
During these days I have played a good deal of Bach in
the fine old hall with its magnificent acoustics. Why does his
art mean so much to me? Because its spirit is throughout a
spirit of keynotes and of basic tones. There is an intimate
connection between the depth of thought and that of tone.
Just as one profound thought controls from within a thousand
superficial ones, so an infinite number of melodies can be con-
ceived in higher keys of one single basic tone, whereas every
given melody in the treble is related to only one in the bass.
Modern music is entirely confined to the treble, and only lets
one imagine basic tones indirectly: that of Bach is nothing
but a single basic tone, and to this extent it is the foundation
of all other music. No musician has ever been as deep as
Bach; to the metaphysician he is therefore more congenial than
any other. For the metaphysician has to play the bass in the
symphony of the spirit of recognition, to find and sound the
basic tones in the music of the world. And while I sink my
soul in Bach a sigh escapes me: if only I could think as this
man composed, if my recognition could mirror such depth as
his music does, then I would have reached my goal.
MY life flows on without event. But instead of rolling by
more slowly, as heretofore, when every hour brought new im-
366 HOME PART ix
pressions, it moves on immeasurably more quickly. With the
haste of the cinematograph one season follows upon another;
if my journey seems to have lasted decades, I might feel now,
at the expiration of a generation, as though I had only returned
yesterday. . . . How wonderfully the soul adapts itself to
circumstance! In the hustle of great towns, in the turmoil of
events, in the chaos of impressions, its consciousness of time
expands to give place to everything} in uniformity it shrivels
up. In this way the hermit in the desert is not threatened with
boredom any more than the man of the world.
And as I live on quietly, the remembered pictures of the
wide world continue to pale. Already I can only recall India,
China and Japan with difficulty. once again everything hap-
pens differently from what I thought: I expected that the
many forms of life which stimulated my mind so powerfully
would continue to operate as such within me. Instead of that,
they have been transmuted and what lives in me now is some-
thing different, something single, something very new to me,
whose origin I can deduce only by reflection from multiple
experience. It is incredible how unsuspecting man is concern-
ing himself: the personal ego merely watches what takes place
upon the stage of consciousness, it has no access to the wings,
it does not know who will appear, whence the players come,
what they will perform, and when it realises nevertheless that
the play is its own creation, it sometimes makes it feel un-
canny. . . . What is new and incredible to me is that I no
longer have any desire for metamorphoses- Not that I regard
the limitations of Hermann Keyserling differently from here-
tofore, or that I feel at one with them inwardly: they hardly
limit me any longer} I know myself to be free in spite of and
in them. I re-read the passages which I wrote before my de-
parture: no, these motives apply no longer to-day. And I
begin to understand why this is so.
one condemns most violently in others what one dislikes in
oneself} the saint condemns no one, the sage regards no one
as altogether foolish. Thus, my desire to deny all manifesta-
tion was mainly due to the fact that I was not independent of
any. Being subject to impressions and influences to the high-
CHAP.7I RAYKULL 367
est degree, I preserved my liberty indirectly by constant change.
But it is no doubt better to live directly in freedom. Char-
acter (in the usual sense) implies, of course, limitation ; no
developed individual can reverence ' personality' as an ideal 5 he
is beyond prejudices, principles and dogmas. But he may
yet be positive, 'without character, no less securely and firmly
than any rigid individual, only from a basis of higher recog-
nition. The Yogi says: neti neti I am not that to all nature,
until he becomes one with Parabrahma. After that he denies
nothing, he affirms everything positive within and without him-
self, because no manifestation limits him any more, because
now each one is an obedient means of ｅxpression to him. In
this sense a change of dimension has also taken place in my
conscious life, no matter how far I may be from the goal. I
need stimulus far less than before to feel myself alive, my
progress becomes ever less dependent on experience; that which
used only to answer now commands in me. But when I
think back to the long road I have traversed, and ask whether
I have wandered on unnecessary bypaths, I must answer in the
negative more than ever. It is eternally true, as Indian wis-
dom teaches, that the soul must go through all experiences
until it becomes ripe for the blessedness of knowledge, for
there is no other way than this 5 he who attains his goal without
apparent deviation attains it only seemingly. Why? Because
the goal does not consist in external insight, but in inner change.
To every level of existence a special truth corresponds} the
butterfly's formula of life is not appropriate to the caterpillar;
no matter how much the former may be the latter's aim
precisely in order to become a butterfly it must previously be
a caterpillar and a cocoon. The same applies to the human
soul. This unfolds itself in recognition: every higher recog-
nition, however, presupposes a specific new state. Before this
has been attained, no abstract Jcnowledge is of any avail- He
who turns the left cheek according to Jesus' direction, with
fear and hatred in his heart, is not a saint; nature must have
become equal to the ideal. This, however, is brought about
only by experience. Every portion of the soul must have
recognised individually what it really wants and what it really
368 HOME PART ix
should do, what its perfection consists in, for it does not recog-
nise inexperienced truths, and in order to experience enough it
must expose itself a great deal. For this reason, the richer a
nature is, the more experience does it need correspondingly.
For this reason, the by-way round the world means to man in
every sense the shortest conceivable way to his essential being.
This much I had already realised before. But what has only
been revealed to me lately and is the true reason why I can
and will renounce the Protean ideal, is the fact that the recog-
nition of being does not destroy but fulfils one's humanity.^ I
knew, of course, that every manifestation is capable of bringing
Atman to complete ｅxpression, but I thought that this applied
to the consciously spiritualised man in the sense that nature
would develop into a transparent shell without a meaning of its
own. To-day I see that this is not so; that nature, on the con-
trary, develops into the living body of the spirit, and that the
spirit is completely realised exactly in so far as it becomes
expressed completely in its laws. If mutability is more than
being fettered, perfect freedom can only begin beyond the
former: it is possible to express, within a seemingly limited
frame, what was inexpressible in the Protean one. Yes, one
life is more than many, because complete experience is only
possible in the one life which has been fully and willingly
accepted. Christian mysticism has seen farther than the
Indian, in so far as it differentiated between what God is in
Himself, and what He appears to be, where He reveals Him-
self to man. He may be above everything which concerns
creation as man, He appears perfectly human. There is
nothing human which could not find in Him its fulfilment and
its sanctification. For this reason, divinity here below is con-
ceivable only in correlative humanisation. And so it is. That
form of divinity, of which I used to dream so much, is not a
highest ideal; it means merely a spiritualised form of in-
humanity. In striving after this condition I committed the
very mistake which my theory has so often denounced* I pre-
ferred a particular manifestation as such to others. To-day I
know the truth. And in saying yes with determination to
what I happen to be, I do not feel more limited, but more free.
CHAP.7I RAYKULL 369
Time passes like a flash. The more immediately I live in the
spirit, the more does time accomplish, but the more unreal
does it seem to me. The Psalmist must have spoken the truth
when he proclaimed of Jahveh: For a thousand years in thy
sight are but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in the
night.
THE world war is raging all around me. More and more
nations fall upon one another, their struggle becomes ever
more appalling. And it is not enough that they attempt to
destroy each other mutually they defame and insult each
other through the mouths of their intellectual leaders, in-
ordinately, like the antagonistic heroes of Homer. All har-
mony, all understanding is abolished, the unity of mankind
seems to exist no longer.
For me it continues. I see in this catastrophe only a crisis
like many that have occurred already, if not of as wide a range,
at any rate of the same significance} a crisis which does not
cut short development, but quickens its progress. Just as all
progress leads through periods of reaction, during which the
lower and repressed impulses rise up and temporarily gain the
victory, so it was to be expected that the more universal world
of to-morrow would be introduced through a prelude of un-
precedented national hatred, and that the future solidarity of
nations would be preceded by wars of extermination; just so
the era of peace which began with Augustus was initiated
through the most cruel civil wars. During such crises, human-
ity offers a revolting spectacle. In earlier days I would have
turned away from it in disgust. To-day I can do so no longer:
I know that in my innermost being I participate in it. Not
that I am a party to it f or me the whole living creation is one
single whole j I do not share a single one of the one-sided feel-
ings which inspire the combatants. But I cannot dissociate
myself any more from the whole, I cannot say, as formerly:
nescio vos. For I know that I am one with the whole of my
time, and to this extent I share in the responsibility for its fate.
The more profoundly I took root in my freedom, the clearer
370 HOME PART ix
it became to me that nothing is more opposed to it than the
desire for isolation, nay, that the recognition of essential free-
dom has its correlation in the feeling of one-ness with the
whole of nature. As a metaphysical being I am, of course, my
own creator. But regarded empirically, I am nothing at all by
virtue of myself. I owe my talents and my point of departure
in life to my parents, my earliest influences to my country} I
owe to my age the mental content in which I share, the im-
pulses which drive me on; and finally, I owe to the whole earth
the manifold experiences which have made me what I am
to-day. I myself, as a consdous person, may put down to my
own merit only the fact that, assuming rny existing energy for
work, I have worked at myself unswervingly its possession
even is not due to myself, much less its success. It is not I
who evoke my thoughts, they come to me* Thus I am in-
separable from the universe. If I accept myself, I also affirm
the uni verse j if it is my duty to perfect myself, this duty im-
plies the further duty of co-operating as much as ever I can in
the perfecting of the world.
I can deny what this world is to-day just as little as I can
deny my personal condition. The latter is the product of all
that has ever beenj if the processes of the world had taken a
different course, I too would be different* Conversely, how-
ever, the world would necessarily be more perfect if I were
more perfect, so that its future character is conditioned on all
sides by the volition and achievement of its present elements.
And of all the elements without a single exception: even the
transient gesture of every individual continues to be effective
through aeons of time. Thus, no one can or may sever himself
from the whole.
This truth, of which only few are aware in peace days, in-
spires the impulses of most people during a war of defence.
Every individual among the combatant nations to-day feels
the desire to give his life for something greater, every one of
them feels that he should join with his fellows, that he may
not cut himself off, that he must share in the fate of his nation,
be it crime or happiness or death. My consciousness lives
beyond the sphere of national boundaries, therefore I cannot
CHAP, 71 RAYKtJLL 371
be a party to this strife. But events touch me no less pro-
foundly for all that: just as there are beings who must repre-
sent, according to their nature, certain special aspirations, so
there are others who are destined to embody what is general
and common to all. And this generality is no abstraction: it
is a living entity, it is even more concrete than anything par-
ticular is, since the latter only serves it as a transient means.
All the prof oundest and most essential powers of life are super-
individual and supernational! it is these which give significance
and direction to particular events. The consciousness of the
metaphysician is directly rooted in them. His participation in
the processes of the world consists in lending ｅxpression to
these powers.
And this participation is no less important than that of the
warrior. What would have happened to Europe if the con-
tending voices had not been drowned again and again by a
single one, which could not countenance any partisanship and
only knew of love? The prof oundest will of humanity spoke
through this voice. The more self-conscious humanity be-
comes, the more must this will dominate, the more will it
animate from within all special aspirations. I anticipate a time
when human power and courage will aspire no longer to tem-
porarily limited, but only to final and general aims. For the
ideal future will not be distinguished by the fact that colour-
less sufferance will take the place of heroism, but that heroism
will serve truth instead of error; that all earthly powers will
be directed throughout by the spirit of knowledge. Never
will they cease to be effective as such. It is one and the same
bravery which is evinced by the robber and by the confessor
of faith, and weakness remains weakness, whatever its cause
may be. As long as heroism and wide-heartedness appear as
inevitable opposites, humanity will not be ripe for univer-
sality. It is not ripe for it yet. In order that it may become so
soon, those few in whom a profounder consciousness is alive
already to-day, must never tire in proclaiming their knowledge.
I am thinking of the Bodhisatva, who vowed not to enter
Nirvana as long as one single soul was still pining unre-
deemed in his earthly fetters, and I compare his picture with
372 HOME PART ix
that of the sage who, indifferent to the world, only strives after
the realisation of God: the sage is not altogether beyond name
and form as yet, for, after shedding all fetters, he is still left
with the one fetter of the impulse for recognition it is he who
wants to see God. The other, formerly also a sage, has dis-
carded this last bond. His struggle for recognition, which
was originally meant to satisfy his person, has finally burst its
shell. Now he lives no longer in himself, now he offers to
divine light a perfectly transparent medium. Because this
light shines through him without any hindrance, he only
wishes to give, he only shines and radiates, he knows no atti-
tude to creation but that of a dispenser of grace, just as the
sun cannot leave one single atom without its warmth.
The Bodhisatva says yes to the most evil world, for he knows
himself to be one with it. Rid of himself, he feels his founda-
tion in God, while his surface is intertwined with everything
which exists. Thus he must love all beings as he loves him-
self, thus he cannot rest until every one mirrors divinity in
everything. The Bodhisatva, not the sage, embodies the aim of
human aspiration.
INDEX
Abnormality, rejection by Chinese wis-
dom, II. 116
conditions of, I. 143
Absolute, the, meaning of, I. 134
European and Indian view of, I. 260
denied by Buddhism and naturalism,
I. 40
removal of the difference between
the relative and, I. 199
values of, I. 130, 305
Actors, I. IS, 324; II. 159
Acvagosha, I. 266; II. 155, 224
Advantages, are more positive than
failings, n. 203
there are no unpaid for advantages:
vtde Compensation
^Esthetic judgment, objective validity,
I. 24
Affliction, productive effects of, i. 133;
n. 328
Age, of various souls, I. 303
every soul has a specific ideal,
II. 223
why it produces what is most sig-
nificant, I. 272
Agriculture, Chinese, n. 70
European, II. 306
American, II. 325
moral basis of Chinese, II. 324
Akbar, Emperor, I. 201
Albatross, n. 242
Allah, as the soul of the Sahara, I. 20
nature of, I. 203
no relation to art, I. 199
Altruism, not more valuable than ego-
ism, I. 272, 285
Ambition, condemned by expedience,
I. 298
America, primordial nature of, II. 283,
288
advantages over Europe, II. 318 et
seq.
immense abyss between inner perfec-
tion and external progress, n. 345
America, Cont.
formative powers of, II. 279, 289
Americanisation leads back to an animal
condition, II. 333
Americanism, the secret of its power of
attraction, n. 333
Americans, the, as typifying the West-
erner, II. 268
as barbarians, n. 263, 267
as Yogis, ,H. 332
the methods of work of the greatest,
I. 277
self-overestimation of, II. 121
optimism, n. 268, 329
their type of workmen superior to
the European, II. 319
the small better than the great, n.
319
resemblance to schoolboys, n. 285
their formula of life impoverishes
their soul, n. 332
Ancestor worship, n. 71, 205
Animals, lacking in free imagination,
I. 67, 74
capacities of, n. 243
perfection of, I. 70, 74
Anti-Semitism, I. 147
Ape, grotesque nature of, II. 27
Appearance, always material, I. 120
as such not transferable, I. 276
all can give perfect ｅxpression to
significance, n. 163
Appreciation, power of, favours higher
development, H. 269
Arabesques, meaningless metaphysically,
1.219
Arabs, their world-philosophies, I. 205
Architecture, as a fettered art, I. 215
logic of, I. 279
Greek, I. 79
Japanese, n. 181
Aristocracy, of the future, II. 269, 270,
321
absolute mental advantages of, I. 55
373
374
INDEX
Aristocracy, Cont.
signs of degeneration, II. 175
as the result of breeding, I. 189
Art, only the highest has the signifi-
cance which aesthetes give to all,
I. 24; II. 138
influence of nature upon the develop-
ment of, II. 143
secret of spiritual, I. 28 1
of the West is born of reason, I.
279j II, 157
comparisons between eastern and
western, I. 279
purely decorative has no signifi-
cance, I. 219
less interesting than nature, I. 23
Indian as the imagination of the
flesh, I. 99
far-eastern as the continuation of
the stubbornness of nature, IL 143
Chinese, I. 28 lj II. 68, 173
Japanese, n. 164, 209
monuments, significance for history,
i. 211
how critical history of is possible,
I. 211
to what extent styles of can be
judged objectively, i. 24
Artists, as women, i. 1 72
psychically not unified, I. 103
only rarely of mature human value,
i. 301
of the East as Yogis, I. 281
Ascent, on the ladder of being must be
paid for, I. 149
Ascetics, many varieties of, 1. 126
and comfort, II. 339
not chastisement, I. 144
Asiatics, possess the most ample back-
ground, n. 68
psychically poor compared to us, I.
275; n. 173
psychological intuition of, II. 83
less brutally sensuous than we, II. 196
Aspiration, ennobling, I. 152
Astral worlds, I. 138, 336
Asylums, lunatic, I. 84
Atmosphere, psychic, I. 222, 307 j II. 44
of the expectation of the Messiah,
I. 152
Attachment, of the masses better than
detachment, I. 62 5 n. 318
Attitude, intellectual, L 268
on the same mental level as ideas,
I. 75, 76$ n. 186
Augustine, Saint, as father of Chris-
tendom, i. 309
love and, n. 97
Austrian aristocrats, as the most perfect
German type, i. 70
Autocracy, advantages of, n. 215
to what extent always democratic in
spirit, I. 204
Autonomy, power of the idea, I. 167
hardly ever exploited, I. 169
Confucian form of appearance, n.
91
training for, II. 304 et seq.
complete in the subject, n. 354
Backwoodsmen, nature of, n. 146
Baker Eddy, Mrs., I. 157
Beauty, in nature and as an ideal, II.
292
metaphysical meaning of, I. 24, 71,
134, 156$ II. 19
as the perfect ｅxpression of ra-
cial tendencies of form, I. 24,
135
meaning of its vitalising effects, i,
156
nowhere important individually, I.
24
what appears to primitive man as,
1.96
Beginning, the primaeval, is inexplica-
ble, n. 249
Being, more important than perform-
ance, I. 136, 247
and action, original independence of,
IL 45, 82
mutual effects of, I, 57
and faith, I. 153
Bergson, i. 47, 147, 264j II. 224
Bhagavad-Gita, I. 256, 296
Bible, every book can be one, n. 32S
Birth, absolute advantages of noble, i.
55, 220
Blame, bloodstained statesman is yet
without, i. 286
INDEX
375
Blame, Cent,
everyone is destined to a certain
amount of, II. 239
empirical and metaphysical, II. 301
Blindness, advantages of, I. 14-2, 336
of the Indians compared to nature,
II. 11
of fighters, n. 331
Boddhisattva, the oath of the, n. 169,
372
as the goal of human aspiration, II.
372
Body, the richer the , the better does
it express the spirit, u. 173
imagination of the, i. 21, 66, 99,
323
and mind, vide Mind
the Westerner must renew his, II. 288
gospel of the, n. 288
Boredom, impossible during blindness,
I. 336
the hermit knows no more than the
man of the world, n. 366
Boundaries, of an individual do not ex-
haust his being, i. 18 j II. 364
inviolable as such, I. 77 j n. 189
why external are not inwardly lim-
ited, I. 135, 332 j II. 367
Brahma, as a playful being, i. 333
conceptions relative, I. 259
Brahmanism, as the real form of ex-
pression of the Indian spirit, I. 1 74
Brains, one must differentiate between
oneself and the related, i. 30
Breathing exercises, I. 226, 276
Brothels, purity of the atmosphere in
Japanese, n. 193 et seq.
Buddha, ruler's nature of, I. 54
psychological genius of, i. 54
how far greater than Christ, i. 56,
65, 308
greater than all the Rishis, I. 312
highest example of, I. 332
not a Yogi, i. 310
not a thinker, I. 56, 311
not inimical to God, I. 57
observed only in process of evolu-
tion, i. 47
and Luther, i. 60
and Ernst Mach, I. 47
Buddha, Cent.
gained revelations through struggles,
II. 304
Buddhism (southern Hinayana), psy-
chological foundation of, I. 39
considered as empirical relativism, L
47
unsuitable to the Westerner, I. 53
as the theory of vegetation, I. 46
the gospel of the Tropics, I. 48, 54,
57
ideal religion of mediocrity, I. 63
why it does not create egoists, i. 5 1
Buddhism, formative power of, i. 54 j
n. 13
has precluded all resentment, i. 56,
59
inculcates prof oundest wisdom in the
small man, I. 53, 63
to what extent superior to Christian-
ity, i. 55, 62, 64
why not dogmatic, I. 57
not pessimistic, I. 59
Lutheran traits, i. 61
why despised by Brahmins, I. 48, 175
not the best in Buddha, I. 3 II
signs of degeneration, I. 175, 300
considered as the Indian twilight of
the gods, i. 306
evolution of (Mahayana), i. 47,
147, 177, 196 5 II. 150, 151, 170
(Japanese) history of, n. 171
western nature of, n. 156
and Christianity, I. 177j II. 170,
225
spirituality of, n. 170
Buddhistic consciousness, I. 46
divine worship, r. 51, 56j II, 156
monasticism, I. 59; II. 150, 156,
171
priests, I. 51$ n. 156
Burmese, n. 14
Business-man, idealism of the, n. 28,
45
nobleman as ignoble, n. 177
Calvin, found a bridge between tradi-
tional concepts and the modern
spirit, II. 344
and Mahomet, i. 207
376
INDEX
Calvinism as the religion of worship
of worldly efficacy, u. 344
and Lutheranism, n. 90, 343
monstrous dogmatism of, n. 91,
312
relationship to Islam, I. 207
Capitalism, religious foundation of, II.
340
Caste, I. 114, 187, 191
Catholic, and Protestant spirit, differ-
ence between, I. 23 1, 288 j II. 60,
90
nature of Hinduism, I. 230, 288
Catholicism, nature of, i. 230, 288
exclusiveness of, n. 102
as form of consciousness, n. 103
profounder than original Christian-
ity, n. 154
its spiritual development more fa-
vourable than Protestantism, I.
232
favourable to psychic culture, II. 90
as a system of spiritual hygiene, i.
231
propitious to art, I, 103
Ceremonies, significance of, I. 90
Chinese conception of, n, 65
Change, value of ability to, n. 10, 93,
230
Character, nature of, II. 130
no external synthesis of, I. 208
no spiritual ideal but sound natural
basis, II. 130
is resolved by recognition, I. 300
belief in fate creates, I. 252
developed through Protestantism, II.
89
Charity, meaning of, I. 247
greater in the East than in the West,
I. 249
Charlatanism, as mask of the sage, 11.
43
Charm, as the crown of wisdom, II. 60,
116, 157
Chastisement, Yogis inimical to, I. 144
Chastity, ideal of, meaning of reli-
gious, I. 236; II. 42
as the exponent of brutal sensuous-
ness, n. 197
European and Japanese, n. 204
China, western greatness of, n, 67
is the first and only country to real-
ise the social ideal, n. 55, 86, 135
and Russia, n. 69
Chinamen, vitality of, n. 451
profundity of, n. 68
social culture of, n. 27
extremely practical, n. 108
extreme expressive beings, n. 110
no thinkers, n. 54, 108, 110
intellectuals, n. 106, 134
legality of, n, 85
self-control of, n. 39
relation to Europeans, n. 106
superficiality of, n. 63
lack of nobility of, n. 85
Philistinism of, II. 41, 105
weakness of the subjective, n. 109
moral culture of, H. 44
spirit of, II. 96
humour of, n. 49
love for order, n. 85
tolerance of, n. 84, 113
caution of, n. 43
faculty for combination of, n. 31,
95
equanimity of, n. 39
attacks of fury of, n. 40
most human of men, II. 138
most cultured of men, n. 136
most substantial Asiatics, u. 173
Chinese, culture, exclusiveness of, n.
102
can be measured only by means of
the geological gauge of time, n.
29
the most easily intelligible of all,
n. 139
as a model, n. 61, 71, 86
substantiality of, II. 68
ideal of art, 1. 281 j n, 68, 173
mysticism of, n. 41
religiosity of, n. 37
writing, II. 30 ft seq. y 49
wisdom, peculiarity of, n. 33, 46
stresses the passive, n. 47
knows nothing above nature, n. 46
world philosophy, n. 46, 47, 54, 58,
69, 71, 73, 113
feeling for the world, II. 70, 210
INDEX
377
Christ, his existence no religious prob-
lem, I. 152, 24-1
latest posthumous developments, I.
154; II. 89
as element of Christianity, I. 147
self-glorification, I. 221
not father of Christianity, I. 309
to what extent a highest example,
I. 303
true meaning of his doctrines is be-
ing understood better and better,
I. 66; n. 155
Christian, all Occidentals are physio-
logically, I. 165
a special quality of love makes men,
n. 152
Christian Science, II. 328, 343
Christianity, would never have become
a world religion without Paul and
St. Augustine, I. 309
advantages over Buddhism, I. 62;
II. 166, 172, 225, 229
has never inwardly taken hold of
the masses, i. 54
will never die out in the West, II.
163
its ideals are designed for a chosen
minority, n. 115
undignified attitude of a certain sec-
tion of, causes dissension, I. 56
metamorphoses of, I, 153, 177; IT.
89, 151, 154, 343
become more and more worldly from
reform to reform, ix. 343
American, u. 340
philosophically not on the highest
level, n. 274
peculiar formative power of, n. 274
the religion of freedom par excel-
lence, n. 275
present manifestation not final, n.
231
future possibilities of, n. 316 et seq
Church, always expresses a religion
better than religious texts, i. 51
Catholic and Indian conception of
the, n. 156
the Buddhistic, n. 169, 225
is a cultural office for the China-
man, n. 38
Circumstances, exceptional, never give
pure ｅxpression to any one being,
n. 25
Civilisation, modern, its fundamental
weaknesses, u. 233
absolute advantages of, n. 264 ei
seq., 318 et scq.
Clairvoyance, education to achieve, I.
124
worthless if acquired by disease, I.
143
Classical education, value of, n. 104 et
seq.
Classicism, Chinese, n. 101
Climate, adaptability to, a problem of
the imagination, I. 21, 66
Clothes, metaphysical significance of,
I. 27
Comedies, of Shakespeare, i. 334
Comfort, disadvantages of, I. 193
Community, consciousness of, its lack
as America's fortune, n. 322
Compensation in nature, I. 149, 301,
320; II. 10, 20
Compromise, only superficial possible,
n. 128
Concentration as basis of all perfec-
tion, x. 125, 270, 277
as motive power of the spirit, I. 266
a substitute for talent, i. 267
liberates the higher forces of the
soul, I. 272
as fundamental basis of Chinese wis-
dom, ix. 104
of reason as the basis of western art,
I. 279
Concepts of faith, irrelevance of their
truth, I. 71, 229, 241, 255, 288
et seq.
as means to the end, I. 229, 241, 289
why everything depends upon them,
II. 314
traditional better than new, I. 164-
et seq., 229
all of human origin, I. 242
should never be changed, I. 229
primitive suit most people best, i.
229 et seq.
Mohammedan^ the most material-
istic, I. 213
378
INDEX
Concepts of faith, Cont.
monstrosity of Calvinistic, II. 91,
312
Concepts, can be seen directly, I. 121,
267-8, 321
possible significance in double direc-
tion, i. 90
importance in the Christian faith of,
i. 57j II. 315
Condition, no good in itself, I. 283
no is the absolutely highest, l. 304,
310
no passes away altogether, I. 185
no sums up the others, I. 304
every is positive in effect, II. 203,
213
some is most appropriate to every-
one, n. 213
historical as a special ｅxpression of
the forms of nature in relation to
human life, n. 106
Confucianism, nature of, ir. 32, 51
life no theory, II. 52, 108, 124
the philosophy of the normal, n.
116 etseq.
the philosophy of the future, n. 88,
118, 130, 135
makes reactionary, n. 55, 87
as peasant wisdom, n. 125, 147
Lutheran traits of, n. 89, 113
fundamental errors of its cosmology,
n. 55, 87
creates higher level of average men,
n. 117
and Christianity, n. 112
and Japanese culture of considera-
tion, ii. 147
Conquest, spirit of, metaphysical mean-
ing of, n. 282
Consciousness, higher form of, in the
shape of the goal of progress, I.
263
of men developed progressively to-
wards intellectualism, I. 234
various strata of, I. 90, 122, 240,
265
road to higher, i. 267
normal not the richest, i, 140
level of of the Hindus, i. 92, 224
lever of of the Rishis, I. 293
Consideration, disadvantages of, i. 286
derogatory to uprightness, n. 64
Japanese culture of, n, 147, 184
Continence, sexual, why recommended
by all religions, I. 236
Contradictions, Indian relation to, I.
258
in the world, how they are qualified,
I. 102
Convalescence, 11. 9
Convention, as nature, n. 66, 175
Conversion, uselessness of, I. 58
as a constructive help, u. 349
zeal for, as proof of meanness of
spirit, i. 51} n. 272
Courage, animal, II. 122
moral, II. 85
productive only upon a moral basis,
n. 302
leads most rapidly to the ideal aim,
n. 306
Courtesan, mission of, n. 194, 201
and Grande Dame, I. 180
Courtesans, as educationalists, I, 180
as priestesses, ii. 192
in the Indian temples, I. 97 j n.
199
Courtesy, as the fundamental expres-
sion of decency, n. 59
Chinese, n. 57, 184
Japanese, ii. 184
Creation, of the world, Indian mythol-
ogy of the, I. 333
speculation concerning the, n. 250,
251
Creeds, religiously of equal worth,
I. 235 j ii. 113
Crime, as a road to God, i. 28 3 $ n.
305
Criticism, all brings its blessing ulti-
mately, n. 308
Cruelty, meaning of, ii. 34
psychological basis of, n. 36
Cult, as magic, n. 38, 114
Culture, external and internal, n. 60
erotic, i. 179
moral, II. 52, 82, 130
belongs to a different dimension
from progress, i. 273 j n. 135,
265 et seq. t 346
INDEX
379
Culture, Cont.
attainable only through profundity,
not through expansion, I. 273
of the senses, n. 197
new only flourishes upon new soil,
II. 289
Curtis, Adela, I. 164
Customs, adhesion to, as form of up-
rightness, II. 66
Dancing, Indian, i. 112
Japanese, n. 189
Hawaiian, II. 256
Death, noblest attitude towards, II. 317
cause of the frequent serenity of
man in the throes of, I. 142
meaning of, 1.131
possible victory over, I. 240
attitude of the Mohammedan to-
wards, I. 206
attitude of the Indian towards, n.
317
attitude of the Chinese towards, 11.
34
attitude of the Christian towards,
II. 317
Decency, Japanese view of, n. 204
Demands for obedience, significance of
religious, I. 205, 288
Democracy, as an ideal implies eleva-
tion of the masses, n. 269
its ideals realised by aristocrats, IT.
218
advantages of, n. 267 et seq., 319 et
seq.
Mohammedan, I. 203
hypothesis of work, n. 267
as a preventive of freedom, results
in lowering the general level, II.
79
the rule of incompetents, n. 79, 354
will be overcome, n. 359
its ideals will eventually be capable
of realisation, n. 268
Demons, primitive instinct as, I. 95
Desert, atmosphere of the, I. 20
the gods of the, i. 21
Desire, as a religious factor, I. 94
Destruction, correlated to creation, n.
300
Destruction, Cont.
as the path of renovation, n. 26, 300
Detachment, as an ideal condition, I.
334
its ideal befits only the sage, I. 62
Indian doctrine of, I. 296
Destiny of men, II. 48
to grow beyond themselves, i. 282
to found the kingdom of the spirit
on earth, n. 284
Deterrents, penal theory of, n. 59
Development, always one-sided, n. 20
possible short-cuts to, n. 269
cannot be mentally anticipated, n.
367
of life comparable to the perform-
ance of a symphony, n. 251, 352
theory of and content of truth of
Indian, I. 3 24 5 n. 269
error of Spencer's theory of, n. 271
Devotion, not suited to the European
temperament, I. 227
Diet and mentality, n. 93
Discipline, necessity of religious, i. 229
Mohammedan faith as military, i.
204
Disease, as a positive condition, I. 141
advantages of, H. 9
Dissolution, why an ideal to Buddhism,
I. 44
Doctrine, true, as the ideal of the fu-
ture, n. 155
contradictory considered as equally
orthodox in India, I. 108
Dogmata, to what extent necessary, I.
294
why everything depends upon in
Christianity, I. 57, 244
not necessarily limiting, n. 103
as means of ｅxpression, n. 169
similarity of Christian and Japanese
Buddhistic, n. 225
belong to the past, II. 326, 348
Doubt, the evil of, i. 288
Dragons, significance of, in China, n.
73
Dualism, critically unchallengeable, I,
256
root of morals, i. 130
Dubois, Paul, I. 328 j n. 130
380
INDEX
Duelling, advantages of, H. 123
Duration, value does not guarantee, 11,
352
favoured by reactionary oudook, n.
56
Duty, as justification, i. 286
as an objective form of volition, 11.
355
East, the, method of life in, n. 279
fundamental differences between the
West and, II. 260
secret of the spirituality of its art,
I. 281
power of faith of, 1.191
durability of, n. 57, 137
Eccentricity, natural basis of inven-
tive originality, li. 270
Education, juvenile, Indian, I. 226 et
seq.
Japanese, n. 14-7
religious in India, I. 226
by women, I. 180
to freedom, n. 355
in the form of suggestion, I. 127
Efficacy, of an idea, what it depends
on, n. 312-3
as the test as to whether Christians
are the chosen, I. 63
of the Westerner, I. 169
Ego, as an external world, l. 22, 31 65
II. 238, 258
as an instrument, II. 132, 188
God as, II. 329
absolute autonomy of, n. 354
as the source of infinite power, i,
314
Egoism, meaning of its harmfulness,
I. 317; II. 18 et seq.
its vanquishment simultaneously kills
altruism, I. 286
leads most rapidly in a world of
struggle to the ideal goal, II
306
as a means to the disembodiment of
the ego, II. 306
as necessary basis of individualistic
culture, n. 322
the ideal of immaculacy as the
apotheosis of, II. 204
Electoral system, the grotesque elements
in the democratic, n. 353
Emotionalism, favourable to religious
realisation, I. 327
Englishmen, the most perfect Euro-
peans, I. 70; II. 62
possessed of the most concentrated
imagination, I. 67
legal consciousness of, u. 302
only rarely capable of supreme men-
tal effort, II. 10
feeling for ceremony of, H. 191
relationship to the Chinese of, n. 62
as Yogis, I. 277
wealth of prejudice of, n. 119
religious primitiveness of, H. 312
Eroticism, as keystone of the soul, i.
180, 183
hypertrophy of, 11, 197
Error, as an ｅxpression of truth, I. 255
as a road to truth, n. 306
Esprit, possible profundity of, i. 34
Ethics, quintessence of all, I. 331
Etiquette, as a means of facilitating
intercourse, n. 57
as condition of freedom, n. 179
brothels as a school for, II. 203
Europe, end of its historical career, H.
286
Evil, its part in the activity of the
world, I. 283
all means good to someone, u. 328
can only be overcome by a change
of the level of consciousness, I.
283, 314, 334
the duty of resisting, u. 305
the curse of giving way to, n.
298
overcoming by good, i. 283j n.
196
what is radically, I. 1 30
possibilities of, I. 130
objective reality of, I. 130
part played in the economy of the
world, n. 300
occasionally divinely ordained, n.
301
incompatibility with good presents no
problem, L 102
beyond good and, i. 285, 327
INDEX
381
Exactitude, the Indian lack of, I, 290
Europeans fanatics for, n. 309
Exaggeration, meaning- of Indian, i.
100, 313
Example, significance of, I. 319
extreme, which one man can be to
another, i. 157, 245, 309
each one inimitable in itself, n. 62
Exoterism and esoterism, Indian view
of, I. 255
Expectation of the Messiah, L 152
Experience, extreme of the Buddhist,
i. 50
of most men dependent upon ex-
ternal stimulus, I. 221
the only way to transmutation, I.
314
revelation, nature of, I. 224
the extreme, n. 367
how Buddha and Christ gained their,
II. 304
Experiences, absolutely necessary as
food, I. 76
as creative forces, n. 367
various forms of, I. 13
ｅxpression, insufficiency of Indian, I.
259
Chinese alone immortal for meta-
physical realities, II. 33, 42
most pregnant form, for the spiritual
always found by materialists, n.
167
power of, implies an absolute advan-
tage, I* 140
German inability for, n. 167
of Indian sages, I. 293
Europeans and Chinese as men of,
n. 107
Chinese culture as culture of, n. 220
suggestive manner of, of Chinese,
H. 33
External circumstances, indifference of,
II. 45, 56
Facts, unimportance of, I. 30
Indians recognise no, 285
Faith in authority, advantages of, I.
291, 318
of the Indians, I. 288, 291
of the Theosophists, I. 167
Faith', a priori, must be incapable of
disappointment, I. 154
why founders of religion stipulate it
from the beginning, i. 148
meaning of religious, i. 162, 225,
239, 288
and knowledge independent of each
other, I. 226, 240, 241, 290
as a means to knowledge, I. 240
advantage of blind, I. 327
weak in our world, I. 154
why it is diminishing, I. 241
sole means of reviving, I. 243 5 II.
355
salvation by, I. 141, 242; II. 151,
156
Its formative power in the East, I.
191
and being, amalgamated in the
highest type of man, I. 170 et
seq.
Islamic as military discipline, i.
204
men of, why opposed to originality,
I. 293
influencing another's by force a
sin, I. 226
lack of proof religiously advan-
tageous, I. 162
Fakirs, retrogression towards animal
condition, I. 254
not eccentric, n. 270
Falsification of history, as the path of
all religious evolution, II. 88
Fashion, I. 28
Fatalism, comparison between Moham-
medan and Russian, I. 206
Fate, Greek idea of, n. 352
to what extent it exists, n. 328
what conditions, I. 325
as a convention, II. 175
Faust, of Goethe, i. 271
Femininity and masculinity, Japanese,
n. 201
modern, n. 201
of Indian ideals, I. 166
of the ideals of theosophy, i. 168,
170
Fertility, its spirit embodied in the In-
dian images of God, I. 97 et seq*
382
INDEX
Form, the same form never embodies
the profoundest significance twice
for the same people, II. 231
different views of in the East and
the West, j. 29
creates content, n. 58 et seq.
every contains the possibilities of
the whole of its development, i.
210j n. 219
in America in advance of content,
II. 325, 359
predominates usually only where its
meaning has vanished, II. 29
must be inclusive not exclusive, ii,
49
the of divinity is conditioned by
man, I. 235
typical most favourable to individ-
ual ｅxpression, II. 58
China's supremacy in, n. 49
has become fluid in the West, n. 261
overestimation of, ir. 66
English sense for, n. 191
Chinese sense for, n. 29
Japanese sense for, n. 159
Franciscan order, n. 172
Freedom, nature of, n. 1 8
absolute of every individual, n,
354
inner has its external correlative in
the feeling for membership in the
community, n. 370
development towards, II. 355
attainment through recognition of
one's salvation, through asceticism
and comfort, n. 338
as obedience to God, n. 19
and free will, 11. 255, 354
Christianity as the noblest bearer of
the spirit of, II. 275
our idea of unknown to the Chi-
nese, ii. 46
inner, I. 17 et seq.
of the Indian, I. 245
of Chinamen, n. 51, 99
highest conceivable, n. 359
American as arbitrary government,
n. 354
misunderstood everywhere by democ-
racy, II. 355
Freedom, Cont,
social of the future, n. 136, 357
in the physical sphere recedes ever
further in the course of biological
progress, I. 323
is realised in limitation, I. 74, 324
is not impeded by obedience to outer
forms, II. 57
French, noble women as the best liv-
ing type of womanhood, II, 193
courtesy of grand seigneurs com-
pared to that of cultured China-
men, n. 57
language, n. 31
eroticism as metaphysics, n. 12
revolution, II. 26
social supremacy, I. 60
and Chinese culture, n, 66
Futurism, ii. 245
Gambler, psychology of the, ii. 50
Gardening, Japanese art of, n. 144,
182
Generalisation) impulse to, as a sign of
primitiveness, II. 125, 159, 350
Genesis, probability of its story, n. 249,
252
Genius, nature of, I. 268
overestimation in the West, I. 292
and talent, antagonistic relationship,
I. 330
Gentlemen, as the highest type of no-
bility, n. 176
Gentleness, as an ideal is only bene-
ficial to men of violence, I, 298
does not possess a favourable natural
basis, ii. 302
Geology, as an educative force, n. 250
Germanic race, relation to Indian and
Semitic, I. 214
lack of erotic culture of, I. 180
why it will become the foremost
bearer of culture, n. 302
God, his limitations, i. 150, 320 j n.
210, 243
in nature, I. 322
reveals himself within the limits of
our prejudices, L 235
the road to, i. 237, 241, 299$ II,
306
INDEX
383
God, Cont.
as I " and " Thou," H. 329
has abdicated in favour of auton-
omous man, i. 1 69
possibility of beholding, I. 123
consciousness of, I. 273
Mohammedan trust in, I. 206
Gods, do not concern religious men, I.
163
Greek, I. 21; II. 254
Indian, creation of, I. 39
significance of, I. 98, 226j n. 38
less than men, II. 255
Indian as the most perfect embodi-
ments of primeval forces, I. 95
Buddhistic conception of, I. 56, 71
existence of conceivable only as a
game, I. 334
Goethe, I. 110, 270; II. 58, 119
Golden Age, n. 13
Goodness, no general denominator of
ideal aspiration, I. 182
man should only think good of him-
self, I. 252
profound men can only desire, i. 274
Government, form of, Chinese, is the
highest in idea, II. 76
Grace, of God, Americans regard ma-
terial success as indicative of, n.
340
Grande Dame, as universalised cour-
tesan, I. 180
the Holy Virgin as, I. 167
Greatness, on what the value of great
men depends, I. 156, 248
accidental nature of historical, I. 147
essentially independent of success, II.
69
significance of quantity, II. 210
mental and human rarely coincide,
I. 147
Greek, church', n. 261
architecture, I. 79
art, I. 278
gods, II. 257
imagination, n. 254
form, II. 49
Greeks, lack of inner superiority, I. 206
why inferior to fate, n. 329
knew nothing of progress, n. 330
Growth, rapidity of tropical, I. 39, 45
disadvantages of too rapid, II. 268
Habits, always evil, I. 194
Happiness, what it depends on, I. 248;
II. 56, 127, 183
not an end but a best means, n. 345
Hazard, game of, n. 50
Heaven, i. 35, 50
its foundation upon earth the mis-
sion of the West, u. 274, 293, 353
Hegel, n. 298
Heroes, of ancient tragedies as a bar-
baric ideal, I, 198
Chinese contempt for, II. 122
Highest, there is nothing absolutely, I.
302, 324
to what extent within the reach of
everyone, I. 332
Hinduism, Catholic nature of, I. 230,
287
as a vegetative process, i. 39, 100,
338
animalic, I. 99, 107
History, peculiarity of, I. 197
registers only a part of all activity,
I. 185
significance in the historical sense
does not embrace all values, II.
299
leadership in will not always re-
main in Europe, n. 289
and accident, ii. 299
Indians lack the sense for, I. 110,
184
and Mahayana, n. 224
Humanity, as an orchestra, I. 3 04 5 n.
185
unity of, 11. 369
future solidarity of, n. 351
Humour, nature of, II. 33
Chinese, n. 49
Ideal, the highest inconceivable in
concrete form, I. 182
the extreme of human life, vide
Perfection
of the norm, n. 116-120
the democratic raises the masses, n.
269
384
INDEX
Ideal, Coni.
mistakes of the modern western, n.
322
the new, I. 329
of uniformity, advantages of, n. 267
specifically western, II. 290
erroneousness of, n. 268
highest conceivable realisation, II.
290
Idealism, none ever in vain, II. 305
of the Moslems, I. 213
of the Chinese, 11. 124
requires the stimulus of material dan-
ger, n. 123
less fruitful than materialism, n. 284
greater in the West than in the East,
II. 261
of the business-man, n. 28
every level has its special, I. 52, 60;
II. 367
Ideals, of fraternity, only realised in
Islam, I. 203 et seq.
live at the expense of one another,
I. 182
masculine and feminine, I. 166, 170
which are too lofty are corrupting,
I. 297} n. 115
which are too cheap are harmful,
1.61
of theosophy are historically at an
end, I. 166
as real forces, n. 119, 265, 330
advantages of unobtainable, I. 153,
155
every level of existence must confess
special, I. 52, 62; n. 367
no ready-made are at the basis of
the world, II. 55, 72
as basic tones, i. 305
of our time, I. 198 5 II. 333
Ideas, as independent forces, I. 241
are material as manifestations, I. 267
Indian not nearly so potent as
European, I. 297
practical efficacy independent of
mental value, I. 146$ n. 273,
312
possibility of getting behind, I. 269
Plato's, I. 269
as creative forces, u. 315
Illusion, eastern attitude towards, I. 29
the world as, I. 40
Illusions, western and Indian, I. 41
Imagination, more substantial than fact
to the Indians, i. 110
why it is not equivalent to fact, u.
309
of the body, I. 21, 66, 323 5 n. 245
of the flesh, Indian art as the, i. 99
et seq.
of the heart, u. 36
and technique, relations between, II.
187
vegetates in the Tropics, I. 39, 46
Immortal, the quality of man as the
fruit of his earthly ego, I. 32 5 xi.
353
Immortality, I. 32, 49, 135, 137, 139$
II. 19, 240, 317
Imperialism, Chinese, n. 74, 121
English, n. 191
Japanese, n, 214
Russian, n. 215
Impossible, value of striving after the,
n. 118, 353
Impoverishment, progressive- of lan-
guages, n. 33
of the world thanks to us, 11. 297
et seq.
of the soul, thanks to Puritanism, I.
182, 305
thanks to Americanisation, n, 332
Impulse, as divine means of ｅxpression,
I. 98
Incompetence, democracy's rule of, n,
79, 354
Indian, state of consciousness, I. 16, 92,
110,212, 300
culture, i. 264-8
spirit, not exhausted in any system,
i. 106, 256
feeling for heroism, L 184
art, I. 98-9, 173, 281
amorous life, I. 179, 236
humanity, more manifold than Euro-
pean, i. 91, 187
personality, I. 337
philosophy, fundamental nature of,
I. 262
no product of thought, x. 259, 290
INDEX
38s
Indian Philosophy, Cont.
not completely confined in any sys-
tem, I. 262
dancing, I. 112
wisdom, fundamental nature of, I.
257, 338
peculiarity, I. 285
cause of profundity, I. 264
why unproductive, i. 293, 297
permits active interpretation, i.
300
philosophy, pragmatic, I. 263
exclusiveness, I. 284-
key to its problem, i, 95
Indians, as human beings, not so ad-
vanced as men of recognition, I.
287, 301; II. 45, 51
antagonistic to originality, i. 291
lacking in character, i> 253
inner freedom of, I. 245
power of faith of, I. 191
untruthfulness of, n. 309
ignore the laws of nature, i. 287
Indigenous, no art was ever quite, n.
165
Individual, the, as organ of the ego,
I. 18, 331
and the race possess a Polar rela-
tionship, i. 24 } IL 99
insignificance of, I. 62, 71
has never been taken seriously in the
East, n. 36
advantages of his value, n. 305, 315,
319
Individualisation, possibilities of, n.
270
implies increased potentiality, n. 284
of American flora compared to the
tropical flora, II. 283
lack of in the tropical flora, I. 81
not essential, n. 134
Individualism, sign of superficiality,
II. 270
disadvantages of, n. 270
produces world citizenship, n. 163
advantages of western, n, 266, 315,
319
inequality of men, n. 80, 289
inheritance, I. 21, 189, 191
can be overcome, n. 367
Initiative, make God and devil power-
less, i. 169
Innovation desire for, makes super-
ficial, L 133
enmity of the Indians to, I. 290
of the Chinese, n. 29
Inspiration, can be retained, I. 269
Institutions, good do not allow us to
make any conclusions concerning
their members, n. 265
lose in significance in proportion to
human value, n. 80
the best, are in America, n. 285, 3 19
as creative powers, n. 266
Intellect, predominates in the soul of
the advanced individual, n. 231
as impersonal power, n. 241
Intellectualism, Chinese, n. 106
disadvantages of, I. 234, 242, 328
Inventiveness and memory, as opposite
poles of action, n. 137
Invocation, possible effects of, I. 93
Irrationality of all Indian manifesta-
tions, I. 99, 106
Irrelevance of externals, American and
Indian manifestations of, the same
ideal, n. 342
Islam, blurs racial differences, I. 178,
203, 205
formative power of, I. 202
gives superiority, I. 207
as the religion of the simple soldier,
I. 205
as the religion of absolute surrender,
I. 204
and Calvinism, relationship of, I.
202, 207
Occidental nature of, i. 212
Jainism, i, 174
Japan, nature of, n. 143
men of as the centre of nature, n.
208
their best spirit, 11. 205
their education of the children of the
people, n. 147
can become westernised, n. 218
Japanese, essential nature of, n. 148,
218, 226, 228
unintellectual, n. 207
386
INDEX
Japanese, Cont.
not individualised, II. 208
impersonal, II. 179
incapable of change, II. 171, 219
not imitative but gift for exploita-
tion, II. 219
fundamental characteristics of, IK
148, 174, 187,217
ultimately uninteresting, IK 223
women, nature of, n. 201
profundity, II. 207
becomes apparent in their patriot-
ism, n. 160
religiousness, n. 159, 171 et seq.,
228
courtesy, n. 146
Jesuits as Yogis, i. 128
Jews, as the chosen people, i. 148
Christians and Moslems as brothers,
I. 212
Jiu-jitsu, as the fundamental symbol
of the Japanese, II. 219
Johnson, Dr. Samuel, n. 119
Jokes, metaphysically equivalent to seri-
ousness, I. 334
Joyfulness, Buddhistic, I. 60
Judgment, last, advantages of believ-
ing in, I. 151, 253
Justification by faith, I. 245 5 II. 311
Kant, his structure of the soul not ulti-
mate, I. 121, 264
Karma doctrine, i. 251 5 II. 328
Keeping still, value of, I. 137
Killing as a normal process, n. 300
cruelty in the process of, 11. 34
Knights, as the most noble type, n. 175
Indian, I. 184
Knowledge, lack of, as an advantage,
II. 127
the cause of all evil and suffering,
1.331; n.293
Knowledge man of, is beyond truth
and error, I. 263
advantage of the who is a religious
teacher, K 65, 236
everything in life serves the, I. 332
Lack of interest better than charity,
I. 51
Language, no can say everything, IK
33
Latin, peoples, in what respect superior
to the German, I. 180
Laxity, Japanese in sexual matters, n.
198, 204
Laziness, as the most deadly sin, I.
282
Leaders, characteristic of Japanese, IK
217
Legal consciousness, of the Chinese, n.
85
of Englishmen, IK 302
Levels of existence, as categories of
age, I. 303
each one as specific barrier, I. 150
Liberation by means of recognition, I.
115, 136
the extreme longing of everyone, K
51
by means of self-control, IK 19
Life, nature of, I. 334} II. 50, 253
creation of, IK 250
as the essence of metaphysical reality,
K 322
modifies its ｅxpression in accordance
with possibilities, K 34, 324 j IK
212
art of, K 184
problem of, solution of the external,
II. 338
environment for, advantages of an
unfavourable, K 330
metaphysical gain in, n. 353
theory of God-given, i. 149 j IK
87
each one positive, IK 203
creative effect of, K 214
never a purpose in itself, IK 353
renunciation of Indian and Euro-
pean, I. 40
on earth, absolute advantage of, K
139
Limitation, more valuable than its op-
posite, K 74
as the ultimate aim of freedom, K
324
absolute, of men as phenomena, I.
27j IK 288, 365
necessity of self-, K 31 j IK 294, 357
INDEX
387
Logic, Indian as animal phenomenon
of luxuriance, I. 107
Loneliness, renders the feeling- of being
isolated, impossible, n. 238
not advantageous to everyone, n.
238
Longing, as a motive power, II. 43
Love, as a product of the imagination,
I. 146; II. 258
as a question of concentration, I.
274
why it beautifies, li. 19
overestimation in the West, I. 2 36 ;
II. 100
an objective power only in the West,
II. 265, 274
possible divinity of, I. 237; II. 100
of two human beings offers no guar-
antee for the excellence of their
progeny, II. 98
not a monopoly of Christianity, I.
228, 237
divine innate in everyone, n. 85
as the easiest road to God, I. 237
Chinese, n. 96
sensuous as a means to spiritual
progress, i. 96; IL 199
Christian, conditioned physiologically
rather than theologically, n. 148
manifold ｅxpressions of, n. 152
essentially inconsiderate, n. 65
Buddhistic, I. 61 ; II. 153
absolute advantage of, n. 317
art of, I. 178; II. 199
life of, Indian, I. 179
Chinese, IL 96
Lowliness, Christian idealisation of, L
64
Luther as a Catholic, I. 233, 288
theoretically superficial, I. 245 5 II.
311
his definition of the nature of reli-
gion, IL 3 1 1
tragedy of, I. 245
profoundest culture of the mind
traceable to him, n, 313
Lutheranism, Christianity has surren-
dered its formative power in it, I.
55
nature of, u. 89
Machinery of the law, its power an
index of political immaturity, ir.
76
excessive importance in the demo-
cratic community, IL 80, 354
as substitute for slavery, IL 339
as an end in itself, 11. 332
Magic, apologia of, i. 94; n. 114
why it loses in significance, I. 233
as a profession, i. 143
black and white, i. 130
Mahatma, I. 318
Mahayana Doctrine, vide Buddhism
Man, primeval, as the child of the
gods, n. 255
and wife, metaphysical relationship
between, I. 34, 171
Manifestation, every can give ex-
pression to the extreme, n. 163
Manifestations, what they are condi-
tioned by, I. 1 6
never to be taken seriously meta-
physically, L 29, 33, 107, 164,
193, 235, 254 *t seq., 322; IL 67,
311
relative value of, L 22; IL 175, 327
all limited in terms of time, IL
300, 352
why the western are more potent than
the eastern, IL 315
Mantras, L 93
Marcus Aurelius, i. 201; IL 36
Marriage, of the future, IL 101
a matter of procreation, IL 97
not a means to erotic culture, L
180
Masculinity, of the western soul, L
167, 228
and femininity, metaphysical signifi-
cance of, L 171
conditioned by surroundings, L 34
Masquerading, as means to self-realisa-
tion, I. 28
Masters of theosophy, i. 149, 275
Materialisation, L 120
of the spirit dependent on accidental
circumstances, L 254; IL 253
Materialism, nature of, L 1 1 8
good in a transitory stage, n. 260,
284
388
INDEX
Materialism, Cent.
favourable basis of spiritual art, II.
167
increased by charity, j. 249
of the West as the effect of Chris-
tianity, I. 66
of the West comparable -with infan-
tile, II. 284
meaning of western, i. 213 5 II. 173,
282 et seq.
the sole path to overcome it, II. 343
Mathematician, nature of his special
talent, I. 267
Maturity, the late, of the highly tal-
ented, I. 328
Maya, as the spirit of western science,
I. Ill
doctrine, physiologically equivalent
to western naturalism, I. 40
innate in inhabitants of the Tropics,
1.41
Meditation, value and nature of, I. 127
Memory and inventiveness as poles of
activity, II. 137
Men of action, nervous crises of, n. 40
must believe in providence, I. 294
essentially limited, I. 295, 300
Westerners as, n. 275, 312
Merit, and grace, I. 308
nothing outside labour of men is
really, n. 370
Metaphysician, nature of, I. 15, 337
specific reality of the, I. 124; II. 189
Method of teaching, Indian, I. 259
Chinese, il. 104
Method of treatment, productive effect
of, I. 84
Methodism, influence upon English
culture, I. 277
Middle Ages, spirit of the, u. 174
Milieu, significance of, I. 32, 46, 84;
n. 212
Miracles, impossibility of eradicating,
II. 250
possibility of so-called, I. 92
Mission of the West, purely practical,
II. 273, 312
Missions to the heathens should be pro-
hibited, n. 112, 131
justification of, n. 274
Modesty, no advantage, n f 344
Mogul emperors, as the greatest types
of rulers, I. 201
Moguls, culture of, western nature of,
I. 209, 217
relation to the Renaissance, T. 217
Mohammedans, distinction of, I. 202
their tolerance, I. 202
as idealists, I. 213
relation to Christians, I. 213
important in India only as rulers, i.
200
materialistic conceptions of the, i.
213
Monasticism, one-sidedness of its ideal,
I. 183
Cingalese, I. 51, 59
Burmese, n. 14
Japanese, n. 171
Monism, does not exclude pluralism,
I, 256
Monotheism, why it takes the place of
polytheism everywhere, I. 103
makes moral but mean, i. 103, 207
creates the strongest character, I. 208
Moral, power as the fundamental force
of the world, n. 76
culture, ii. 130
high culture of the Chinese, n. 52,
82, 129
instinct, to what extent existent, I. 85
revolt of the modern against what is,
II. 53
Moralist, typically amoral, i. 300
Morality, as a question of insight, i.
239, 273, 329j II. 54, 126
and practicability, relation between,
I. 85; II. 129, 266
as the profoundest quality of the
Chinese, n. 52
as self-realisation, n. 72
as the basis of the order of nature,
n. 71
as the basis of the state, II. 76, 102
Mormons, n. 310
Mortification, meaning of, i. 142
Muller, Johannes, I. 164
Music, programme, I. 334
Indian, I. 334
and rhythm, n. 183
INDEX
389
Music, Cont.
why the extreme can be said only in
its language, I. 280
and metaphysics, II. 365
Mutability, importance of, I. 15, 66}
H.288
Mysticism, why Christian is not
equivalent to Indian, n. 230
to what extent profounder, n. 368
Catholic nature of all, I. 104
never inimical to polytheism, I. 104
Mystics, nature of, I. 104
Persian, I. 85, 227
and sceptics, point of contact, I. 295
road from the theist to the, n. 329
Mythology, Indian, intelligible only
as vegetation, I. 39
truer than history, x. 110
as the most substantial ｅxpression of
truth, I. 169$ II. 250
as the final word, II. 252
Napoleon, II. 25, 83
Nation, there is no Indian, I. 106, 187
National character and religion, I. 176,
213
National feeling-, compatible with citi-
zenship of the world, II. 351
Nationalism, II. 53
Naturalism, I. 40 j n. 221
Nature, cause of the ennobling effect
of great, I. 26
more interesting than art, I. 23 et
seq.; II. 138
and spirit, metaphysical relationship,
I. 322 5 ii. 140
represents the highest authority to the
Chinese, n. 46, 124
hardly exists for the Indian, II. 10,
70
inevitability of predestination of, I,
26
inevitability of predestination of
can be overcome, I. 240, 283; n.
358
primordial power of American, H.
288
conservatism of, n. 29
the Japanese feeling for, n. 180,
208-9,221
Nature, Cont,
and the development of art, n. 143
the Far Eastern feeling for com-
pared with the European, n. 139,
182, 295
leads precisely to what wisdom has
anticipated, n. 294, 306
laws of, Chinaman knows no, n. 76
is something which must be over-
come, IL 47, 358
Negation of life, in India and Europe,
1.44
Neighbour, love of, to what extent is
valuable, i. 65
advantage of the Christian, 11. 274
practical makes men narrow, I. 51
makes superficial, I. 182
New Thought, advantages and merits
of, I. 182
the only mystic movement of this age
which has a future in the West,
L 164; II. 343
the Copernican Act of, n. 342
the limits of its beneficial effect, H.
328
Nietzsche, i. 170
aspired to the same as New Thought,
II. 344
relation to Buddha, I. 42
Nihilism, Buddhistic, I. 42
Nirvana, physiological cause for the
longing for, I. 44
multiplicity of the concept of, i. 49
Buddhistic, I. 49, 60
and the Brahmanistic view of, I.
307
why Buddha taught nothing definite
concerning, i. 49
Nobility, n. 274
Non-ego, basis of the Buddhistic doc-
trine of, I. 49
its detrimental practical effect, I. 63
Non-rule, as an ideal of government,
11.76
Non-uniformity, blessings of, n. 230
Nouveaux riches, n. 269, 318
Normality, ideal of, II. 114 et seq.
Obedience and command, psychological
connection of, i. 205
390
INDEX
Obstacles, and assistance, I. 330
Occultism, critical foundation of, I.
121
erroneous interpretation of true facts,
l. 120
suitable only to rare temperaments,
I, 137
inclination towards detracts from
the possible historical significance
of theosophy, I. 1 60
danger for religion, I. 161, 162
and morality, I. 128
no better as a religion than Ostwald's
theory, I. 161
and spiritualisation, contrast be-
tween, I. 130, 133, 162
Occultists, generally inferior as human
beings, I. 129, 136
cannot be leaders, I. 1 62
ocean, the manif oldness of, i, 72 5 n.
243
Official life, uninteresting everywhere
because controlled mechanically,
IK 26
Om, the syllable, I. 243
Omniscience, befitting only to God, I.
295
and scepticism join hands, I. 295
Opposition of the sexes, cosmically not
absolute, I. 172
metaphysical significance of, I. 34,
172
Optimism, as a creative power, I. 250 j
n. 268
the Indian philosophy of, I. 250
Orientals, versatility of, I. 29
intuitive power of, II. 83
Originality, Indian antagonism to, I.
290, 293
antagonism of Chinese litterati, n.
104
no one is completely opposed to, l
210; II. 369
why rare in China, II. 43
significance of its predominance in
the West, n. 270
overestimation of, i. 291 et seq.
Overestimation, value of, n. 215
Overpopulation, favourable to moral
culture, n. 44
Pain, subject to the will, n, 35
as a road to God, 1.133
Palate, world philosophy of the, n. 94
Pandit, I. 257, 259
Paradise, truth of the conception of,
I. 85
Shiva's, I. 313
the only conceivable, n. 254
Paris, stimulating power of, I. 32; n.
44
Passion, as superficial phenomenon, i.
98
no value, i. 274
Pathos, of the life of the Moham-
medan, I. 206
of the belief in the last judgment,
I. 151
of sin, I. 252 j n. 332
of Protestantism, n. 92
Patriotism, n. 161, 205, 370
Peace, corrupting as an ideal, n. 123
eternal inconceivable, n. 290
specifically Oriental ideal, i. 169
only the weakling longs for, i.
169
Peasantry, Chinese, n. 70, 124
Russian, n. 327
Indian, n. 327
Peoples, of the earth complement each
other, n. 185
solidarity of, II. 351
Perception, all recognition is, I. 267
Perfection, evident in itself, i. 69
as the highest and sole problem, i.
74, 137, 182, 283, 306, 310, 332$
II. 116, 347
as the exponent of spirituality, i.
134, 327
possible only within limits, IL 349
typical more advantageous to most
men than habitual, t. 188j n. 58,
178, 192, 271, 347
every definite form of is only tem-
porarily the highest, i, 324
of cognition and of life are mutu-
ally exclusive, i. 297
every is tied to special conditions,
n- 62, 119
necessarily one-sided, I, 31, 295 1 n
20, 108, 154, 190
INDEX
Perfection, Cont*
one kind of flourishes only at the
expense of another, I* 182
and progress, I. 132, 136} n. 262,
34-6 et seq.
of the Europeans achieved over van-
quished nature, n. 282
and happiness, n. 110
concentric is higher than eccentric,
II. 146
not fulfilment in earthly sense, n.
353
and totality, n. 333
Personal life, potentiality in the West,
II. 315
possibility for the richest, u. 364
Person, the, as a superficial phenome-
non, I. 72
as an instrument, n. 189
as an organ of the ego, I. 330
expresses being only partially, i. 155
not identical with the ego, I. 326,
330$ II. 258
Personality, no highest, L 14, 329 5 n.
358
not attainable for everyone, n. 190
Pessimism, vanquishment of by trans-
formation of the world, u. 330
Buddha's, I* 59
Phenomenology, truth of Buddhistic, I.
39,46
Philology, as the gate to humanism, n.
105
Philosophy, fundamental problem of,
n. 32
as a means of ｅxpression, I. 257
incomparability of Indian and Euro-
pean, I, 257
progress of this, n. 307
study of in India and Europe, i.
258
Piety, Indian and European compared,
I. 225
Pilgrimages, meaning of, I. 221
Pilgrims, Indian, I, 91, 250
Japanese, II. 158
Plants, most perfect spiritual expres-
sion, H. 17, 140
contain in principle the solution of
all problems, i. 45 5 II. 18
Plants, Cow*.
the tropical world of, I. 79, 81 j
II. 15
Plasticity, value of, I. 15, 67
as an ideal, i. 325
Plato, as a believer in metempsychosis,
I. 152
psychological foundation of his doc-
trine of ideas, I. 269
and Eros, I. 238
Play, to be taken just as seriously as
earnestness, i. 334
the creation of the world regarded
as, I. 333
Plotinus, I. 270
Poetry, expressiveness of, I. 280
Poets, nature of, L 326
as human beings rarely capable of
perfection, I. 301
as materialists, n. 168
self-overestimation of, n. 246
not a highest type of men, but spe-
cialised organisms, n. 62
must be without personality, i. 15
owe their social significance to acci-
dental circumstances, I. 24
and metaphysicians, I. 15
Political culture, rests upon a morel
basis in China, n. 53
the ideal, n. 354
Politics, Interest in harmful to most
people, H. 81
Polygamy, advantages of, i. 103,
183
Polytheism, root of, i. 101
advantages of, I, 102
of the Catholic church, I. 103
as ｅxpression of non-unifiable soul,
I. 103
of theosophy, the most harmful of
all, i. 162
Popes, the, as types of rulers, i. 20 1
Possibility, as specific reality of the
metaphysician, n. 188
Poverty, absolute evil, n. 343
Power, as evil, n. 298
and right, II. 301
of the West over nature as a misfor-
tune, n, 293, 297
as an advantage, u. 329
392
INDEX
Practicability, as the fundamental na-
ture of life, n. 244
morality and, I. 85 5 II. 129, 266
Pragmatism, I. 116, 257, 263
Prayer, not begging, I. 225
of the Mohammedan comparable to
a military march, I. 205
why it strengthens, 1. 225
strengthens the gods, II. 39
significance of, i. 127, 225 5 n. 39
Predestination, belief in, advantages
and disadvantages of, i. 206, 253
denied by the activity of the West,
I. 167 5 ii. 329
Prehistoric Age, animals of, I. 69, 82 5
II. 284, 288
Prejudice, not more superficial than
any other phenomenon, n. 67, 175
is essential to most people, I. 115
creates reality, I. 115
must be overcome altogether, I. 3 29 5
n. 308
the different types of animals re-
garded as, n. 176
Pride, favourable to respect for others,
II. 302
Priests, Buddhistic, I. 51
Japanese Buddhistic, II. 156
mistakes of Christian, I. 51
Catholic superior in idea to Prot-
estant, II. 115
Primitiveness, as the ideal of over-
civilised towns, I. 198
and culture, n. 139
as the original condition and as the
goal, II. 356
Problems of men are extinguished by
the light of Brahma, I. 314
Production, impossible to perfected
man, I. 293
meaning of, II. 10
spiritual as continuation of pre-
existent formation, I. 210
Productivity, secret of Japanese, n. 187
Profitableness, as an aesthetic principle,
n. 323
Profundity, definition of, n. 162
conditioned by concentration, I. 271,
277
achieved by physical power, n, 173
Profundity, Cont.
may appear superficial in course of
time, n. 106
possible of superficial men, I. 98
the of God, IL 52
of nature, II. 207
Japanese, 11. 161
of the conditions of consciousness of
Indian sages, I. 264
feeling for and nervous power, I.
272
why religious is favoured by trop-
ical nature, I, 57
to what extent Tolstoi lacked, i. 78
Programme music, I. 334
Progress, a purely biological process,
I. 132
to what extent related and compati-
ble with spiritualisation, i. 132,
136 et seq.t 11. 263
as a series of intimate tragedies, II.
127
as the victory of matter over mind,
II. 34
zigzag course of, n. 203, 355
occult, I. 132
rapidity of western and how condi-
tioned, II. 269
only possible in a world of strife,
n. 305
as robbery, n, 297
leads man to the artificial, n. 336
meaning of inner, n. 238
leads to simplification of life, n. 339
ideal more substantial than real, n.
353
and culture, belong to different di-
mensions, n. 135
real foundation of its modern mean-
ing, n. 271
unknown to the Greeks, n. 330
beyond earthly life, n* 352
inevitable evils of, n. 325, 357
to what extent justified in principle,
II. 330, 356
Proportion, Japanese feeling for, IL
182
significance of harmonious, n. 183
Prosperity, should be the normal condi-
tion, n, 344
INDEX
393
Prostitution, the problem of, the solu-
tion of, n. 196
Protestantism, has conquered completely
in the historical sense, I, 158, 167,
233; II. 61,261, 343
spiritual technical differences between
Catholicism and, I. 232, 288
spirit of, I. 233 5 II. 90
does not make recognition but action
more profound, I. 232
becomes progressively less of a
church, II, 113 et seq.
Indian, I. 174, 231, 288
inartistic, XI. 93
Chinese, n. 90
Proteus, as prototype of the meta-
physician, I. 14
as an ideal, I. 325
boundaries of, I. 27, 326j n. 188
the step above, n. 364
Protoplasmic, as highest condition, I.
323
Providence, why the idea of has been
dispelled in the West, i. 168 5 n,
329
why men of action believe in, I. 294
error of the idea of, I. 197j n.
352
content of truth in the idea of, n.
153
Provincial minds, inferior to urban, I.
33
Psychic phenomena do not differ from
material, I. 40, 321
development does not imply spiritual-
isation, I. 132
realities exist objectively, I. 119,
321 5 n. 39
barriers just as real as material, I.
17, 84, 114, 191j II. 174
lack of culture of western founders
of religion, n. 311
atmosphere, I. 222, 307; II. 44
Psychology, Buddhistic, I. 46
Indian, profundity of, I. 264, 268
Punishment, as a deterrent, n. 35
every violates social consciousness,
n. 302
Puritanism, disadvantages of, I. 305;
II. 104
Purity, of Japanese courtesans, n. 194
et seq,
sexual ideal of, n. 194 et seq t
Qualities: there is no general denomi-
nator for, I. 102
Quantity, as the general American ideal,
II. 263, 297
significance of, n. 131, 210, 251
Quietism, Chinese, II. 47
cause of Indian, I, 297, 298
Race, exists only within limited periods
of time, n. 166
conditioned psychically, I. 190
not an ultimate authority, n. 358
when it represents something ulti-
mate, II. 170
and religion, i. 176, 21 3 5 n. 109,
173
the meaning of fanaticism of, 11.
53
Radical nature of all fundamental feel-
ings, I. 130
Rational and decorative elements in
architecture, I. 214
Rationalism, unknown to the Indian,
I. 108, 257
of western art, I. 277
of the Catholic Church, n. 157
of Theosophists, I. 139
Realisation, the one thing that we need,
I. 229, 290 j II. 229, 349
the Indian sages were only interested
in, I. 290, 293
in imagination, I. 294
not compatible with life and recog-
nition, I. 295
not innovation is the ideal, n. 348-9
Realism, most suitable to the masses,
I, 254
Reality, of man only a portion of the
whole of reality, I. 121
different levels of, I. 124
Indian different from European, I.
92, 109
psychic and imagination, n. 257
spiritual not exhaustively determi-
nable by any intellectual co-ordi-
nates, I. 257
394
INDEX
Reason, and the activity of nature, II,
291
not a match for metaphysical real-
ity, i. 108
the man who has become perfectly
inward stands above, I. 282
Receptivity, different kinds of capacity
for, I. 77
power of of cultured human beings
weak compared with nature, I. 72
Recognition, the road to, i. 269-70
depends everywhere upon perception,
I. 267, 292
necessarily turns into action, I. 1 30
importance of, I. 239
and relation to life, I. 296, 301
life more important than, I. 310
thoughts born as independent entities
and, I. 297
limited western historically more
effective than the more profound
of the East, I. 292; II. 315
metaphysical, conditions of, I. 291
nature of, I. 224
impulse of as form of egoism, 11,
372
critical advocates the possibility of
assumptions of occultism, I. 121
means of man must grow beyond
his inherited power of, i. 26 S
Reflection, only a means to perception,
I. 267
Religion, true meaning of, I. 294
and the character of the race, I. 176
modern conceptions of too wide, I.
166
superfluousness of a new, I. 165,
170 5 II. 349
meaning of a change of, n. 229
connection between and the race, I.
176, 213 5 n. 112, 170
inherited the best, I, 235
of health, II. 288
of the future, II. 226
the possibility of a universal is past,
L 158
cause of the attractive power of In-
dian, i. 171
Religion (religiosity), nature of, IL
113
Religion, Cont.
question of its intensification, i,
270
Indian, I. 220 et seq.
Chinese, IL 37, 91, 113
Japanese, II. 159, 165, 226
Russian, I. 227
western, ji, 313 et scq.
lowest form of, II. 14
and sensuousness, n. 115
Religious, community, consists orig-
inally of insignificant people, i.
146
founders, comparison between west-
ern and eastern, n. 313 et seq.
advantages of wise founders, I. 65,
229
Renaissance, II. 62
Repetition, spiritual significance of, i.
243
Republic, bad government by a, n. 79,
215, 354 $t seq.
Resentment, as a product of Christian-
ity, I. 56, 64
of the poor against the rich is small
in the East, n, 247 et seq.
Responsibility, feeling for, is developed
by monotheism, I. 207
psychological cause of western, I, 1 5 1
Chinese, n, 74, 121
Reverence, the basis of all virtue, IL
59
of something higher, metaphysical
significance of, I. 156
Revolutions, as fever phenomena, n. 25
necessity of, n, 78, 300
Rhythm, of Far-Eastern drawings, i.
282
in nature and art, n. 183
Riches, their matter-of-fact assumption
is the best means of overcoming
their disadvantages, n. 345
as religious postulates, it. 340
formative power of, n. 212, 344
Riddle, of the world, solution of the t
i. 314
Right, the, of the stronger, n. 302
and might, n. 301
Ritual, doctrine of, profundity of the
Indian religious, L 229
INDEX
395
Ritual, Cont.
Chinese, II. 59, 66
psychological significance of, I, 92,
289
cause for the overestimation by all
early cultures of, II. 66
why it continues to lose in impor-
tance, I. 233
philosophy of Indian, i 92, 229
Romanesque form, n. 49
Ruins, whence their effect, I. 78
Rulers, Europeans stand on the highest
level as, n. 45
Rules, only good in so far as they lib-
erate, I. 194
Russians, as the best psychologists, n.
45
similarity to the Indians, i. 22 7 5 n.
69
religion of the, I. 227
feeling for nature of the, u. 69
incapacity for organisation of, II.
337
lack of power of abstraction of, I
78
wide background of the, II. 67 et
Sacrifice, n. 317
human, meaning of, I. 95
Sages, as basic tones, I. 305 j n. 119
to what extent they are beyond strife,
II. 303
the steps above them, I. 312
Indian as minds of the second rank,
I* 265
bad authors, I. 293
Chines* and Greek, n. 43
Saints, value of, I. 157
though inactive more important than
any man of action, I. 247
as the basic tone of the symphony of
life, t. 305} IL 119
more than the sage, i. 3 12
poor authors, I, 293
inimical to communication, I. 245
inferior, I. 143, 254
accidental whether a man becomes
a saint or a criminal, I. 255
Christian and Buddhistic, II. 171
Salvation by recognition, I. 131, 237,
239, 242, 252, 283, 327, 332 j II.
151,317
by faith, n. 151
Sanctity, of a place, meaning of, I. 221
Saviour, saves not as a man but as an
ideal, I. 152-7
nature of the, I. 157
Saviours, of the world, henceforth su-
perfluous, I. 157
Scepticism and omniscience possess a
point of contact, i. 295
Scholasticism, typical accompaniment of
spirituality, I. 262
Science, as Maya, i. Ill
as the forerunner of art, II. 296
what makes it superfluous, i. 268
history of, n. 307
Sculpture, Indian, I. 98, 278
Greek, i. 23
Seclusion, harmfulness of, I. 76
Sects, different significance in the East
and the West of, n. 313
Japanese, n. 155, 227
Self-control, n. 132, 294
-limitation, necessity for, I. 31$ 11.
293
-rule, advantages of, n. 215
-lessness, specific of spiritual man,
1.31
-lessness of the highest man, IK 372
-regulation of nature, n. 127, 301
overestimation, advantages of, n.
242
of men, n. 237
-realisation, different ways towards,
I. 15, 145; II. 282
succeeds best within the limits of
familiar concepts, I. 165
the shortest road to, n. 232
a digression round the world as
the shortest road to, I. 17$ n.
364
Senses, originally all equivalent, u. 94
Sensuousness, of the European atmos-
phere, ii. 197
of religious natures, u. 115
as the entirety of love, I. 274 et seq.
Sexual intercourse, as a sacrament, I.
97 j H. 199
396
INDEX
Sexual Intercourse, Cont.
Japanese conception of, II. 194
Sexual problems, Japanese solution of,
II. 193 et seq.
Indian solution of, n, 199
Shakespeare, i. 103, 332
Shinto, II. 205, 222
Significance, primary, I. 18, 110, 2 85 3
II. 153, 196
purely intensive, I. 264
conditions facts, I. 285 5 n. 31, 199
and appearance, are not related hap-
hazard in divine worship, I. 93
mysterious interrelation of, I. 217
and sound, I. 93, 243
does not exist isolated, n. 33
cannot be deduced necessarily from
a text, I. 257, 311
and accident, II. 253
Significant individuals, cannot be dis-
ciples, I. 146
Simpleness, why favourable to spiritual-
isation, I. 133
Simplification, artificial, I. 279
of life in America, II. 339
Sin, nature of, I. 251
Indians know no, I. 251
as a barbaric conception, I. 252
as a road to God, I. 309; n. 306,
327, 368
consciousness of, to be deprecated,
I. 252 et seq.
as the hereditary sin of Christian-
ity, I. 64, 207
origin of, II. 327
Slavery, completely replaced by ma-
chinery, II. 332
re-establishment of, II. 335
Snakes, I. 83
Social ideal, realised in ancient China,
II. 55, 88
the future solution of the, n. 319,
357
Social question, the kernel of the, II.
127
Chinese solution of the, n. 56
Socialism, n. 305
Soul, as nature, i, 19
as surroundings, I. 34, 316$ n* 238
protoplasmic nature of, I. 321
Soul, Cont.
does not possess the power of chang-
ing all other reality, I. 287
is crippled by the modern world, 11.
334
as an autonomous ruler, n. 346
-lessness, as an advantage, n. 233,
332
-transmigration of the, I. 137, 303j
II. 367
not a fact but an interpretation,
I. 150
Plato's belief in, i. 152
the fortune of Europe is its lack
of faith in, I. 151
Soyen Shaku, n. 228
Spirals, as the method of nature, n. 10,
17
Spirit of the age, I. 223
its uniformity in the first centuries
after Christ, n. 150, 169
Spirit, power over matter, i, 316$ n.
252, 329
capable of changing the world, n.
275
can command all laws of nature, n.
351
and body, interaction of, I. 120, 161
and nature, metaphysical relation-
ship of, I. 322j n. 140
possesses in China the greatest density,
n. 68
of men and attitude to nature, n.
295
revelation by accident, n. 253
is all the stronger the richer the body
is, I. 275$ n. 173, 345
reveals itself where there is sufficient
power to express it, x. 224
Spirits, creation of, n. 38
seeing as a symptom of disease, x.
143 et seq,
Spiritual, giants weak on earth, i. 146,
148 et seq,, 320
power, nature and meaning of, x.
134, 148
truth, essentially paradoxical, I. 65
Spiritualisation, nature of, x. 1 34
and progress, mutual relation of, i.
133, 137
INDEX
397
Spirituality, favoured by faith in au-
thority, I. 292
favoured by enmity to innovation, i.
292
of Oriental art, I. 281
of the East greater but more meagre,
1.275
Spitefulness as a primitive instinct, 11.
37
State, the, as a purpose in itself, n.
299
the best possible form of is incon-
ceivable, n. 55
Stimulus, man's dependence upon, n.
139
significance in religion, I. 221; n.
230
Struggle, eternal, as necessary conse-
quence of the western formula of
life, II, 290
changes the soul, n. 303
no recognition possible without it,
n. 304
advantages of the world of, n. 306
Stylisation, only in rhythmic nature
completely realised, n. 189
Success as an ideal, II. 233, 262, 331
Suffering, can be overcome only by
altering the human state of con-
sciousness, I. 284
value of, II. 327
Suitability of every being to his world,
II. 243 et seq.
and morality, I. 84, 131
Sun-worship, profound meaning of, I.
223
Superficiality, of Chinamen, n. 63
of all intercourse, II. 63 et seq.
Superiority, as the cardinal virtue of
the ruler, n. 79
of Mohammedan women, I. 206
of Chinese statesmen, n. 5 1
of Mohammedans, I. 203
of the Mogul emperors, i. 201
Super-man, I. 320
may be inferior as such, I. 145
cannot be recognised as such, i.
320
weak in this world, I. 149, 320
erroneous ideal of the, I. 198
Super-man. Cont.
the idealism of the West is guided
by the, n. 118
Nietzsche's, i. 42, 198, 275
Super-national quality of the emperors
of Rome and of India, and of the
Pope, i. 201-2
Superstition, nature of, I. 163
every belief in the non-ego is, I. 163
advantages of, I. 138
Indian, I. 254
reconciliation of wisdom and, I. 255
Survival after death, possibility of, I.
35, 135,240; II. 240
Symbolism, direct feeling for of the
Indian, I. 92
Sympathy, Asiatic lack of, II. 36
as a product of culture, n. 37
the lowest form of, I. 166
masculine equivalent of, I. 170
Buddha's, n, 36
Symphony of life, n. 251, 352
System, no exhausts Indian wisdom, I.
257, 261
never more than a skeleton, i. 18
and man do not necessarily stand in
any relationship, 11. 36, 52, 129,
200, 346
creative effect of a better, II, 266
the Indian passion for, I. 107
Tagore, Devendranath, I. 288
Rabindranath, I. 338
Talent, can be replaced by concentra-
tion, i. 267
primarily an obstacle to spiritualisa-
tion, I. 133
Indian conception of, I. 267 [236
Tantras, meaning of the, i. 94, 233,
Taoism, II. 42, 47, 108
Taste, nature of, n. 181
to what extent its judgments can be
objective, I. 24
Teachers, do not give but only draw
out, I. 154
spiritual, I. 286
why necessary, I. 318
Telepathy, possibility of, I. 120
will never mean much in practice,
I. 161
398
INDEX
Temperament, no valuable in itself,
i. 330
unalterable as such, I. 330; II. 189
never fundamentally unequivocal, I.
190
Tension, erotic, essential to man, I.
180
Theatre, Indian, I. 178
Japanese, n. 174
Theosophical Society, the achievements
of, I. 118
possible mission of, I. 152
Theosophy, as religion, i. 118, 160
excessive simplicity of concepts of, i.
139
demands externalisation of religion,
I. 162
and Mahayana, II. 1 70
weak in so far as it wishes to be all-
embracing, I. 159
ideals of -historically antiquated, L
166
draws erroneous conclusions from
correct teachings, I. 170, 298
misinterprets Indian wisdom, I. 118
materialism of, r. 118, 1 68
future of, I. 145, 159
has no historical world mission, I.
168
Thomas a Kempis, I. 64, 227
Aquinas, I. 261
Thought, never leads beyond its own
sphere, I, 259
becomes superfluous in the face of
sufficient profundity, I. 267-8
primarily opposed to religiosity, n.
227
Thoughts, as material phenomena, i.
120,267, 321 j 11.252
transference of, i. 120
are wherever they are applied, I. 317
Time, relativity of, n. 366
is qualified differently according to
the formula of life, n. 365, 369
consciousness of lacking in die Ori-
ental, II. 280
Tolerance, Islamic, I. 202
Chinese, n. 86
Indian, I. 229
psychological cause of, n, 314
Tolerance, Qont.
degree of depends upon inner cul-
ture, I. 294
as the result of western evolution,
II. 316, 350
Tolstoi, Count Leo, I, 78; n. 70
Torture, meaning of, n. 34
Tradition, as a fetter, n. 289
obedience to among the Chinese
equivalent to our invention, n. 29,
56
Transfiguration, meaning of the con-
cept of, I. 97
Transfusion of spirit, nature of, I. 133
Travelling, value for the metaphy-
sician of, I. 15
makes most people superficial, i. 16
Treble and bass, symbolical signifi-
cance of, II. 365
Triviality, of the Indian method of
ｅxpression, I. 293
Tropics, the, strong effect of contrast
of, I. 68
lack of shades in the nature of, n,
20
not favourable to a development of
individuality, I, 23
consciousness in the, I. 39, 46
artistic reaction in the is not spirit-
ual, I. 43
influence upon Indian thought, I, 297
Truth, nature of, L 134, 235, 263, 292
can only be learned, not discovered,
according to Indian ideas, I. 292
always symbolical, i. 225
beyond error and, x. 263
the shortest road to, H. 294
through struggle to, n. 303
Type, none the absolute highest, i, 302
not interchangeable, u. 176
each one only capable of one kind
of perfection, n. 203
belief in as the best basis for psy-
chology, n. 83
physical beauty as perfection of, i.
24
Understanding as condition of experi-
ence, i. 232, 241, 328
as perception, i. 123
INDEX
399
Understanding, Cont.
as the decisive factor, I. 300
lack of, as a positive power, I.
194
Unfamiliarity, stimulating power of,
n. 139, 229
Unity, to what extent metaphysical
reality is a, L 104, 263
Universality, the idea of has become
exhausted, I. 159
highest possible realisation of, II.
350
Uprightness, of the Chinaman, n. 64
culture of, n. 60, 266
path of, as quickest road to the goal,
n. 306
Values, all mortal in terms of time,
n. 352
no exhaust all, I. 182 3 n. 351
absolute, i. 131, 305
Vegetating, the nature of, I. 46; II. 15
as the general tropical form of life,
I. 39, 45, 46, 80
Versatility, fatal to rulers, I. 201
Violence, every act of is unjust, n*
299
Occidentals as men of, II. 303
Virginity, ideal of, the end of, n. 200,
204
Virtue, and practicability, relation be-
tween, I. 84 j II. 129, 266
all begins with the ego, n. 302
Visible, world, its peculiarity, IL 187
does not exist for Indians, u. II
form as the direct ｅxpression of be-
ing, i. 280
Vitality, physical as the consequence
of psychic culture, n. 41
great of the Europeans compared
with the Asiatics, II. 172
Volition, creates reality, I. 127
War, changes the form of conscious-
ness, n. 1 62 et seq.
necessity as a crisis of growth, n.
300
possibility of avoiding, IL 294
Warriors, despised among Chinese, n,
122
Warriors, Cont.
as preliminary stage to acquisition of
wisdom, II. 303
-tribes produce the highest cultural
people, IL 293
West, the, nature of, n. 260 et seq.
failings of its civilisation, II. 232
whence its efficacy, IL 280
and destructive effect, u. 293, 297
fundamental difference compared
-with the East, I. 212 5 IL 261
stress of the value of the individual
in, II. 314
mission of, IT. 349
its road to significance leads through
appearance, I. 57; II. 282 et seq.
essential masculinity of, I. 166 et
seq.
definition of, I. 212
to what extent barbaric, IL 264
has confessed unsuitable ideals for
too long a period, I. 170
its culture is of Mediterranean ori-
gin, I. 209
Westerner, the, embodies the highest
level of nature, IL 264, 351
low level of nature of, IL 263
condition of consciousness of, n.
281
fundamental nature of, L 212} IL
260
essentially masculine, L 166 et seq.
dependence upon external circum-
stances, II. 288
essentially fighter, IL 303
not man of understanding but of
action, I. 170j IL 312
moral barbarian, u. 53, 129
unspiritual, L 133
essential youth of, IL 283
culture of uprightness, IL 307
dishonesty, IL 65
mission upon earth, IL 351
why he must predominate to-day, n.
301
empirical conditions of his existence,
IL 282
originality of, IL 136
Wisdom, to what extent the of the
ancients is insurpassable, L 135
400
INDEX
Wisdom, Cont.
and superstition, belong together in
India, I. 256
as the greatest thing in life, i, 304
profoundest emanates from places
near the sun, I. 224
Witchcraft, possibility of, I. 94; n.
15
Women, specific profundity of, n.
206
need to devote themselves, n. 192
of the eighteenth century, I. 34
and plants, n. 16
position of fallen, n. 200
of the future, how they will regard
marriage, n. 101
Japanese as the most perfect type
of this era, n. 20 1
Word, magical effect of the spoken, I.
319
must become flesh, I. 310
has become flesh in China more than
anywhere else, II. 68
the of Confucianism to be under-
stood as flesh, II. 52
wealth of s, cause of the Indian,
I. 101, 106
Work, all equally honourable, n. 320
its overestimation in the West, i,
248
no more serious than playing, I
282
World religions, their time has passed,
I. 158
Worldliness, I. 33
Worship of relics, I. 86
Yoga, fundamental theory of, i. 265
analysis and significance of, i. 125
as a school for the development of
the psychic forces, I. 126
Yoga, Cont,
as physical exercises of the soul, i.
128
the profoundest nature of, i. 266
metaphysical interest of, i. 129
does not necessarily make men better,
i. 129
disadvantages of, n. 10
dangers of, I. 276
different effects upon different na-
tures, II. 228
raison d'etre of Oriental art, 1. 281
Catholic and Indian compared, i.
261 '
advantage t>{ Indian over all
others, n. 230
Japanese, n. 228
the specifically European, n. 232
western Karma Yoga as the pro-
foundest of all, n. 306
three kinds of, L 237
each one of these appropriate to a
definite temperament, I. 237
methodical significance, i, 126, 266
inner truth of the theory of, I. 126
makes for potentiality, I, 130
Yogis, essentially healthy and normal,
J. 144
powers of, 7. 266; n. 252
Oriental artists as, I, 281
why they are considered as the high-
est men in India, I, 298, 302
the perfect, i. 266
and worldly-wise men, n, 5 1
Buddha was not a, I. 310
Youth, of western humanity, n, 284 et
seq.
eternal as postulate of the western
possibility of evolution, n. 288
Zen, n. 227
END OF VOLUME II
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