2. Creative Evolution, p262.
ends; as the followers of those who sought to reduce the whole of intelligence to reason, though without denying it a theoretic function, they have gone one degree lower in the scale of degradation. There is even one point where the pragmatists carry their denying further than the pure skeptics: the latter do not contest the existence of truth outside us, but only our ability to reach it; the pragmatists, in imitation of one or two Greek sophists (who very probably did not take themselves seriously), go to the lengths of suppressing truth itself.
Life and action go closely together; the one's domain is also the other's, and it is to this limited domain that the whole Western civilization keeps, today more than ever. Elsewhere we have told what view the Easterners take of the limitations of action and its consequences, and how for them, in this respect, knowledge is the opposite of action: the Far-Eastern theory of 'non-action' and the Hindu theory of 'deliverance' are inaccessible to the ordinary Western mind, which cannot conceive that a man may dream of freeing himself from action, still less that he may actually come to do so. Besides, action is not generally considered except in its most outward forms, in those that strictly correspond to physical movement: hence this growing desire for speed and this feverish restlessness so peculiar to modern life; it is all action for the pleasure of action, and this can only be called agitation, for even in action there are certain degrees to observe and certain distinctions to make. Nothing would be easier than to show how incompatible this is with all that concerns reflection and concentration, or in other words with the essential means of all true knowledge; it is indeed the triumph of dispersion, in the most complete turning of all things inside out that can be conceived; it means the definite ruin of whatever may still be left of intellectuality, if nothing comes to react in time against these fatal tendencies. Fortunately, such an excess of evil may bring on a reaction, and even the physical dangers inherent in so abnormal a development may end by inspiring a salutary dread. Besides, the very fact that the domain of action only admits of very limited possibilities, even if it may seem to do otherwise, makes it impossible that this development should go on indefinitely, and sooner or later the nature of things will forcibly impose a change of
direction. But for the moment we do not intend to consider the possibilities of a future that is perhaps remote. What we have in view is the present state of the West, and all that we see of it is clear confirming evidence that material progress and intellectual decadence are knit closely together; we have no wish to decide which of the two is the cause or effect of the other, especially as we are dealing, in the main, with a complex whole in which the relations of the different elements are sometimes reciprocal and alternating. Without trying to trace the modern world back to its beginnings and to study the way in which its special mentality may have been formed, as we should have to do if the question were to be fully disposed of, we can say this much: there must have been already a depreciation and a dwindling of intellectuality for material progress to become important enough to overstep certain bounds; but once this movement had started, with the concerns of material progress absorbing little by little all man's faculties, intellectuality went on growing gradually weaker and weaker, until it reached the plight that we see it in today, with perhaps a still worse one in store for it, although that certainly seems difficult. On the other hand, the expansion of sentimentality is by no means incompatible with material progress, because the two are, fundamentally, things of almost the same order; we shall be excused for coming back to this point so often, since, unless it is understood, we cannot grasp what is going on around us. This expansion of sentimentality, corresponding to the regress of intellectuality, will be all the more excessive and disordered for not meeting anything that might effectively check it or direct it, since this part could certainly not be played by 'scientism', which, as we have seen, is far from being immune to sentimental contagion, and which offers no more than a false semblance of intellectuality.
One of the most noticeable symptoms of the preponderance acquired by sentimentality is what we call 'moralism', which is the clearly marked tendency to refer everything to concerns of a moral order, or at least to subordinate everything else to them, especially what is considered as coming within the domain of intelligence. Morality in itself is something essentially sentimental; it represents as relative and contingent a point of view as possible, and one,
moreover, that has never been held except by the West; but 'moralism', in the already defined sense of the word, is an exaggeration of this point of view, and only came into being quite recently. A moral code, whatever foundation is given it, and whatever importance is attributed to it, is not and cannot be anything more than a rule of action. For men who are no longer interested in anything but action it is clear that morality must figure very largely indeed, and they attach themselves to it all the more because considerations of this order may be made to pass for thought in a period of intellectual decadence. It is this that explains the birth of 'moralism'. Something of the kind had already come to light toward the end of the Greek civilization, but without growing, as far as one can tell, to the proportions which it has taken on in our time; in fact, from Kant onward, almost all modern philosophy has been saturated with 'moralism', which amounts to saying that it gives precedence to the practical over the speculative, the former being moreover considered from a special angle; this tendency reached its full development with the philosophies of life and of action that we have spoken of. On the other hand we have mentioned the obsession, which haunts even the most avowed materialists, of what are called 'scientific morals', which represent exactly the same tendency; it may be called scientific or philosophical according to individual tastes, but it is never any more than an expression of sentimentality, and this expression does not even vary to any appreciable extent. Indeed, a curious thing about it all is that the moral conceptions within any given sphere of society are all extraordinarily alike, in spite of their claim to be based on considerations that are different and sometimes even conflicting. This is what shows up the artificiality of the theories by which each man strives to justify certain practical rules, which are always the ones commonly observed about him. All told, these theories simply represent the particular preferences of those who formulate or adopt them. Often a party interest plays no small role as well. As proof of this no more is needed than the way in which 'lay morals' (it matters little whether they are called scientific or philosophical) are put in opposition to religious morals. Besides, as the moral point of view only exists for social reasons and no other, the intrusion of politics into the same domain is not to be
unduly wondered at; it is perhaps less shocking than the utilization, for similar ends, of theories that are made out to be purely scientific; but, after all, has not the 'scientistic' mentality itself been created to serve certain political interests? We doubt very much whether most champions of evolutionism are altogether innocent of any such hidden motive, and, to take another example, the so-called 'science of religions' is much more like a weapon of controversy than a serious science; these are among the cases that we have already alluded to, cases where rationalism is chiefly a mask for sentimentality.
It is not only among the 'scientists' and among the philosophers that the encroachment of 'moralism' may be noticed; notice must also be taken, in this respect, of the degeneration of the religious idea, such as it is found to be in the innumerable sects that have sprung from Protestantism. These are the only forms of religion which are specifically modern, and they are characterized by a progressive reduction of the doctrinal element in the interests of the moral or sentimental element; this phenomenon is a particular instance of the general diminishing of intellectuality, and it is no mere chance that the epoch of the Reformation coincides with that of the Renaissance, that is, precisely with the beginning of the modern period. In certain branches of contemporary Protestantism the doctrine has dwindled into nothing at all, and, as the worship, in a parallel way, has also been reduced to practically nothing, the moral element is ultimately all that is left: 'Liberal Protestantism' is no more than a 'moralism' with a religious label; it cannot be said that it is still a religion in the strict sense of the word, because, of the three elements that enter into the definition of religion, there remains no more than one alone. Having reached this stage, it should rather be classed as a sort of special philosophical way of thinking; besides, its representatives are by and large in sympathy with the champions of 'lay morals', which are also styled independent, and they have even been known on occasion to associate themselves openly with them, which shows that they are conscious of their real affinities. As a name for things of this kind, we willingly use the word 'pseudo-religion'; and we apply also this same word to all the 'neo-spiritualist' sects, which are born and prosper above all in the Protestant countries, because 'Neo-Spiritualism' and 'Liberal
Protestantism' spring from the same tendencies and from the same state of mind. The place of religion, owing to the suppression of the intellectual element (or its absence in the case of new creations), is taken by religiosity, or, in other words, by a mere sentimental aspiration, more or less vague and inconsistent; and this religiosity is to religion just about what the shadow is to the body. Here can be seen traces of the 'religious experience' of William James (which is further complicated by its appeal to the 'subconscious'), and also the 'inner life' in the sense which the modernists give it, for modernism was nothing but an attempt to introduce the mentality in question into Catholicism itself, an attempt that was broken against the force of the traditional outlook, whose sole refuge, in the modern West, appears to be Catholicism, save for individual exceptions which may always exist apart from all organization.
It is among the Anglo-Saxon peoples that 'moralism' rages with its greatest intensity, and it is there too that the love of action may be seen in its most extreme forms, which shows that these two things are indeed closely knit together, as we have said. There is a strange irony in the current conception of the English as being a people essentially attached to tradition, and those who think so are quite simply confusing tradition with custom. The ease with which certain words come to be misused is truly extraordinary: there are some who have gone so far as to give the name 'traditions' to popular habits, or even to conventions of quite recent origin, without importance or real significance. As for ourselves, we refuse to give this name to what is only a more or less automatic respect for certain outward forms, which are sometimes nothing more than 'superstitions' in the etymological sense of the word. True tradition dwells in the outlook of a people or race or civilization, and it springs from causes that lie far deeper. The Anglo-Saxon outlook is in reality quite as anti-traditional as the French and Germanic outlooks, but in what seems to be rather a different way, for in Germany it is more the tendency of 'scientism' that predominates and the French tend more toward scholarship. Little matter, however, whether it is 'moralism' or the 'scientistic' attitude that prevails, for it would, we repeat once again, be artificial to seek to separate entirely these two tendencies, which represent the two sides of the
modern outlook, and which are to be found in varying proportions among all the peoples of the West. It seems that today the 'moralist' tendency has fairly generally the upper hand, though it is only a few years since the domination of 'scientism' was the more marked; but the one's gain is not necessarily the other's loss, since the two can be very well reconciled, and, in spite of all fluctuations, the common mind links them fairly closely together: it has room, at one and the same time, for all those idols that we spoke of earlier. However, a sort of crystallization of the different anti-traditional elements of the modern outlook is now taking place rather with the idea of 'life', and what goes with it, as center, just as a similar crystallization took place in the nineteenth century round about the idea of 'science', and in the eighteenth about that of 'reason'. We speak of ideas, but we should do better simply to speak of words, since all this is a triumph of the hypnotic power of mere words. What is sometimes called 'ideology', with an unfavorable implication by those who are not its dupes (for in spite of everything there are still one or two to be met with who remain undeluded), is really nothing more than verbalism, and in this connection we can take up again the word 'superstition' in the etymological sense, which we have last alluded to and which designates a thing that survives in itself, when it has lost its real point. Actually, the sole point of words is the expression of ideas; attributing a value to the words by themselves, independently of the ideas, failing even to base these words on any idea at all, and letting oneself be influenced by their mere sonority, is indeed superstition. 'Nominalism', in its different degrees, is the philosophical expression of this negation of the idea, for which it professes to substitute the word or the image; and in confusing conception and sensible representation, it really leaves nothing but the latter. In one form or another 'nominalism' is extremely rife in modern philosophy, while formerly it was no more than an exception. This is very significant; and it must be added that nominalism almost always goes hand in hand with empiricism, that is to say with the tendency to make experience, and especially experience of the senses, the origin and end of all knowledge. This negation of everything truly intellectual is what we always come back to, as common element, at the bottom of all these tendencies and all these opinions,
because it is, in fact, the root of all mental deformation, and because this negation is implied, as the necessary starting-point, in all that contributes to pervert modern Western conceptions.
So far we have been mainly concerned with giving a general view of the present state of the Western world considered with regard to its mentality; this must come first, for it is on this that all the rest depends, and there can be no important and lasting change that does not start by influencing the general mentality. Those who maintain the contrary are still the victims of a very modern illusion. Seeing only the outward manifestations, they take the effects for the causes, and they readily believe that what they do not see does not exist. What is called 'historical materialism', or the tendency to trace everything to economic facts, is a remarkable example of this illusion. Things have reached such a state that the facts of this order have actually acquired, in the history of today, an importance which they never had in the past; but nonetheless the part they play is not and never can be exclusive. Besides, let there be no mistake about it: those 'in control', known or unknown, are well aware that, to act effectively, they must first of all create and keep up currents of ideas or of pseudo-ideas, and they do not fail to do so; even when these currents are purely negative, they are nonetheless of a mental nature, and it is in the minds of men that first the germs must be spawned that will later attain to outward realization; even for intellectuality to be done away with, minds must first be persuaded of its non-existence and their activity turned in another direction. This does not mean that we are among those who hold that the world is led by ideas directly; this again is a formula that has been much misused, and most of its users scarcely know what an idea is, even supposing that they do not confuse it altogether with the mere word. In other words, they are very often nothing more than 'ideologists', and the worst 'moralist' dreamers belong precisely to this category: in the name of the chimeras which they call 'right' and 'justice', and which have nothing to do with true ideas, they have had too fatal and lamentable an influence on recent events, an influence whose consequences are making themselves too keenly felt for it to be necessary to insist on what we mean. But the simpletons are not the only ones concerned: there are also, as always, those who lead them
without their knowing it, who exploit them and make use of them in view of much more positive interests. In any case, as we are continually tempted to repeat, what matters above all is to know how to put everything in its proper place; the pure idea has no immediate relation with the domain of action, and it cannot have the direct influence on outward things that sentiment has; but the idea is, nonetheless, the principle, the necessary starting-point of all things, without which they would be robbed of any sound basis. Sentiment, if it is not guided and controlled by the idea, brings forth nothing but error, disorder, and obscurity; there is no question of doing away with sentiment but of keeping it within its legitimate bounds, and the same applies to all the other contingencies. The restoration of a real intellectuality, even if at first it was only within a limited elite, appears to be the sole means of putting an end to the mental confusion that reigns in the West. It is only this which could disperse the mob of empty illusions that encumber modern minds, and of superstitions far more ridiculous and unfounded than all those which are made a butt for random mockery by people who seek to be thought 'enlightened'; and it is only that which will make it possible to find a common ground for understanding with the peoples of the East. In fact, all we have said represents faithfully, not merely our own view-which in itself hardly matters-but also, what is far more worth considering, the judgment that is passed by the East upon the West, when Easterners deign to extend their interest in the West beyond merely counteracting its invasive action by that altogether passive resistance of theirs which the West cannot understand, because it implies an inner power of which it has no equivalent, and against which no brutal force can prevail. This power is beyond life, it is superior to action and to all that takes place, it has nothing to do with time, and partakes of supreme immutability; if the Easterner can patiently undergo the material domination of the West, it is because he knows how relative transitory things are, and because he carries, in the very depth of his being, the consciousness of eternity.