4. Introduction to the Study of the Hindu Doctrines.
and of which, in view of their universality, no symbolic or verbal form can ever give anything but an incomplete, imperfect, and inadequate translation, such as is rather fitted to act as a support for the conception than to express effectively what is in itself, for the most part, inexpressible and incommunicable, and what cannot be 'experienced' except in a direct and personal way. Finally, let us mention once more that if we cling to this term 'metaphysics', it is solely because it is the most suitable of all those that the Western languages offer.
If philosophers have come to apply it to something quite different, the confusion is of their making, not of ours, since the sense in which we understand it is the only one that conforms to its etymological derivation, and this confusion, due to their total ignorance of true metaphysics, is quite analogous to those that we mentioned just now. We do not feel in the least bound to take these misuses of language into consideration, and it is enough simply to put people on their guard against the mistakes that might so arise. Since we take all due precautions in this respect, we see no serious disadvantage in using such a word, and we dislike having recourse to neologisms except where strictly necessary; moreover, such neologisms are a nuisance and might very often be avoided by taking care to fix, as clearly as need be, the meaning of the terms used, which would most certainly be better than inventing a wilfully complicated and involved terminology, after the fashion of the philosophers, who, it is true, get themselves in this way the cheap luxury of being thought original. If there are some people who dislike this term 'metaphysics', it may be added that the knowledge in question is knowledge in the highest sense of the word, knowledge unqualified, and the Hindus have, in point of fact, no other word to express it; but in the European languages we do not think that the use of this word would be likely to avoid all misunderstanding, since people have grown used to applying it, without qualifying it in the least, to science and philosophy. We shall, then, simply go on speaking of metaphysics as we have always done; but we hope that the explanations made necessary by our desire to be always as clear as possible will not be looked on as profitless digressions: they only seem to take us away from our intended subject, without actually doing so.
By reason of the very universality of the principles, it is there that the agreement should be most easily reached, and, furthermore, reached in an altogether immediate way: either a man succeeds in grasping them or he does not, but, having once done so, he cannot help but be in agreement. The truth is one and imposes itself alike on all those who know it, provided, of course, that they actually do know it with certainty; but an intuitive knowledge cannot be anything else but certain. In this domain one is outside and above all the particular points of view; the differences never lie in anything but the more or less outward forms, which are merely a secondary adaptation, and not in the principles themselves; it is the domain of what is essentially 'formless'. The knowledge of the principles is strictly the same for all those who possess it, for mental differences can only affect what belongs to the individual order and what is therefore contingent, and the domain of pure metaphysics does not come within their range; undoubtedly, each one will express in his own way what he has understood, as far as he can express it, but he who has truly understood will always be able, behind the diversity of the expressions, to recognize the one truth, and so this inevitable diversity will never be a cause of disagreement. However, this power to see through the many forms that serve more as a veil than as an expression of the truth implies that true intellectuality which has become so utterly foreign to the Western world; and in the light of this it is scarcely to be believed how futile and miserable all the philosophical discussions appear, bearing, as they do, on words far more than on ideas, even if the ideas are not wholly lacking. As for truths of a contingent order, the multiplicity of the individual points of view concerning them may give rise to real differences, which, moreover, are by no means necessarily contradictions; the fault of systematic minds lies in not acknowledging as legitimate any point of view but their own, and in condemning all that does not comply with it as wrong; but in any case, once given that the differences are real, even though they are reconcilable, agreement cannot be reached at once, especially as each one feels a natural difficulty in taking the others' standpoints, because his mental make-up does not lend itself to them without some revulsion. In the domain of principles there is nothing of the kind, and this explains
the seeming paradox that what is highest in any tradition may be at the same time what is easiest to grasp and assimilate, apart from all considerations of race or epoch, and on the sole condition of having enough capacity for understanding; it is, in fact, what is freed from all contingencies. For all else in a tradition, on the contrary, and especially for everything that may be classed as 'traditional sciences', a special preparation is necessary, and as a rule it is rather a painful process for anyone not born in the civilization that has evolved these sciences; this is because mental differences intervene here, for the sole reason that the things in question are contingent, and the way that men of one race have of looking at these things, which is for them the most suitable way, is by no means equally suitable for men of other races. Within a given civilization, there may even be, in this order, adaptations that vary according to the different epochs, though they consist nonetheless in nothing but the strict development of the principles contained in the fundamental doctrine, which are thus made explicit to answer the needs of a particular moment, without its ever being possible to say that any new element has come to be added from outside. There cannot possibly be any real addition or change where an essentially traditional civilization is concerned, as is always the case in the East.
In the modern Western civilization, on the contrary, it is only the contingent things which people consider, and their way of doing so is truly chaotic because they lack the guidance that a purely intellectual doctrine alone can give, and that has no possible substitute. Obviously there is no question of contesting the results which are nonetheless arrived at in this way, nor of denying them any relative value; and it seems even natural that, within a given domain, the more narrowly a man limits his activity, the more results he will get from it. If the sciences which so interest Westerners had never previously reached anything like the development that these people have given them, it is because they used not to be thought important enough for such efforts to be devoted to them. But if the results are valid when each one is taken separately (which goes well with the entirely analytical character of modern science), the whole merely gives an impression of disorder and anarchy; no one bothers about the quality of the knowledge accumulated, but only about its
quantity; the result is the scattering of energies amid an indefinite number of details. Furthermore, there is nothing above these analytical sciences: they depend on nothing and, intellectually, lead to nothing; the modern mind becomes more and more shrunkenly petty, and in this domain, which is really so minute though believed to be so immense, it confuses everything, drawing analogies between things that are quite unconnected, seeking to apply to one the methods that are exclusively suited to the other, transferring into one science the conditions which define a different one, and finally losing its way there, unable to find it again, for want of guiding principles. Thence springs the chaos of innumerable theories, of jarring, colliding, and conflicting hypotheses that overthrow and replace one another, until, with all hope of knowledge gone, it is even maintained that there is no point in searching except for searching's sake, that the truth is beyond man's reach, that perhaps it does not even exist, that there is no reason to worry about anything except what is useful or profitable, and that if, after all, one sees fit to call it true, there is no harm done. The intelligence that so denies the truth denies its own purpose, or, in other words, it denies itself. The ultimate outcome of Western science and philosophy is the suicide of intelligence; and perhaps this is, for some people, merely the prelude to that monstrous cosmic suicide dreamed of by certain pessimists who, failing to understand anything from their faint glimpses of the East, have mistaken for nothingness the supreme reality of metaphysical 'non-being', and for inertia the supreme immutability of the eternal 'non-action'!
The sole cause of all this disorder is ignorance of the principles; only let pure intellectual knowledge be restored, and all the rest will be able to grow normal again: it will then be possible to put all the domains in order once more, to set up what is definite and final in place of what is provisional, to wipe out all vain hypotheses, to throw the light of synthesis on the fragmentary results of analysis, and, by putting these results back into their place as part of a knowledge that is truly worthy of the name, to give them, although they must only rank as subordinates, an incomparably higher import than that which they can lay claim to at present. To do this, true metaphysics must first be sought out where it still exists, namely, in
the East; and then, but only then, while retaining Western sciences insofar as they are valid and legitimate, it will be possible to think of giving them a traditional basis by linking them up once more with the principles in the way most suited to the objects of their research, and by giving them their rightful place in the hierarchy of knowledge. Wanting to start by establishing in the West something comparable to the 'traditional sciences' of the East amounts really to wanting the impossible; though it is true that the West also had once her 'traditional sciences', notably in the Middle Ages, it must be admitted that they are for the most part almost entirely lost, that even for what is left of them the key is missing, and that modern Westerners would find them just as impossible to assimilate as those used by the Easterners; ample proof lies in the painfully labored works of the occultists who have sought to take a hand in the reconstruction of such sciences. This does not mean that, after fulfilling the conditions indispensable for understanding, namely, after acquiring knowledge of the principles, there can be no inspiration taken from these ancient sciences at all, or from the Eastern ones either: both may no doubt be drawn on for certain elements that can be put to use, and above all they may serve as an example of what is to be done so as to build up other sciences analogous to them; but it will always be a question of adapting, and not of copying purely and simply. As we have already said, it is the principles alone that are strictly invariable; knowledge of them is the only knowledge that cannot be modified in any way, and moreover it contains in itself all that is necessary for bringing to birth, in all the relative orders, all the possible adaptations. That is why the secondary elaboration in question will be able to take place as it were of its own accord, as soon as this knowledge is there to preside; and if this knowledge is held by an elite that is powerful enough to put the community at large into the right frame of mind, all the rest will be brought about with seeming spontaneity, just as the fruits of the present frame of mind seem to be spontaneous; it is never more than mere seeming, for the masses are always influenced and guided unknown to themselves, but it is just as possible to guide them in a normal direction as it is to pervert them mentally and to keep them so perverted. The purely intellectual task, which must first of all be
fulfilled, is then really the first in every respect, being at the same time the most necessary and the most important, since on it everything depends and from it everything is derived; but when we use this phrase 'metaphysical knowledge', there are very few indeed, among the Westerners of today, who have even the vaguest suspicion of all that it implies.
The Easterners (we are only speaking of those who really matter) will never take into account any civilization, unless, like theirs, it is traditional; but there can be no question of giving this traditional character overnight, without any preparation at all, to a civilization that is totally lacking in it; such dreams and utopias are not of our making, and it is better to leave to the unreflecting enthusiasts that incurable 'optimism' which makes them incapable of seeing what can or cannot be accomplished in given conditions such as these. The Easterners, who moreover attribute only a relative importance to time, know very well what it means, and they would never make any of the blunders that Westerners are liable to be drawn into by the unhealthy haste that brings all their undertakings to a fever pitch, whose stability is thus fatally undermined. No sooner do they think their purpose achieved than everything collapses; it is as if someone were to try building on a piece of shifting ground, without first taking the trouble to establish solid foundations, under the pretext that foundations cannot be seen. Certainly, those who might undertake a task like the one we are speaking of should not expect to obtain visible results immediately; but their work, far from being any the less real and effective, would on the contrary be the more so, and while having no hope of ever seeing it come outwardly to flower, they would reap many other satisfactions from it, gaining for themselves inestimable benefits. In fact, there is no common measure between the results of an altogether inward work of the highest order and all that can be obtained in the domain of contingency. If Westerners think otherwise, here too reversing the natural order of things, it is because they do not know how to rise above the world of the senses. It is always easy for a man to belittle what he has no knowledge of, and when he is incapable of reaching it, an assumed contempt is actually his best means of consoling himself for his impotence, and it is moreover a means that is at everyone's
disposal. But it may be asked, if this is so, and if this inward work which must mark the beginning is in point of fact the sole truly essential one, why should one bother about anything else? The reason is that, although the contingencies are indeed no more than secondary, they nonetheless exist; seeing that we are in the world of manifestation, we cannot ignore them entirely; and besides, since everything is necessarily dependent on the principles, all the rest may be had, as it were, for the asking, and it would be a great mistake to shut one's eyes to this possibility. There is also another reason, more particularly concerned with the modern Western outlook: this outlook being what it is, there would be little chance of interesting even the possible elite (we mean those who have the necessary intellectual gifts, albeit undeveloped) in a realization that would have to remain purely inward, or that at any rate was only presented to it under this one aspect; it is far easier to arouse its interest by showing it that this realization must in fact lead, if only in the far future, to outward results; and this is, moreover, the strict truth. Though the end is always the same, there are many different ways of attaining it, or rather of approaching it, for as soon as the transcendent domain of metaphysics is reached all diversity vanishes.
Among all these ways, that particular one must be chosen which suits best the outlook of the people in question. Anything, or almost anything-especially at the beginning-may serve as a support and an opportunity; where there is no organized traditional teaching, it would sometimes be very hard, in the exceptional case of an intellectual development being brought about, to say what had been the moving factor, and the most different and most unexpected things may have served as its starting-point, according to the individual natures of those concerned, as well as to outward circumstances. In any case, being essentially devoted to pure intellectuality is no reason for losing sight of the influence that it can and must exert in every domain, no matter how indirectly, even if this influence does not proceed from an express intention. We will go on to add, although no doubt this may be rather more difficult to understand, that no tradition has ever forbidden those who, by its guidance, have reached certain heights to radiate downward to lower domains
the spiritual influences which they have concentrated in themselves, nor, by so doing, are they liable to lose anything that they have acquired; indeed, such things cannot be taken away from them, and the influences will gradually distribute themselves throughout the different domains in hierarchy, and will spread there as a reflection of supreme intelligence and as a participation in it.[5]
Between knowledge of the principles and the reconstitution of the 'traditional sciences', there is another task, or another part of the same task, which could be fulfilled, one whose action would make itself more directly felt in the social order; it is moreover the only one for which the West might still, to a fairly large extent, find the means in herself, but this calls for some explanations. In the Middle Ages, Western civilization was undeniably traditional; the difficulty is to decide whether it was as completely traditional as the Eastern ones are, especially when it comes to bringing formal proofs one way or the other. To keep to what is generally known, the Western tradition, such as it was at that epoch, was a tradition which took the form of a religion; but that does not necessarily mean that there was nothing else there, or that a certain elite may not have attained to pure intellectuality, which is above all forms. We have already said that there is no incompatibility between the two, and we have quoted Islam as an example in this respect; if we mention it again here, it is because the Islamic civilization is just the one that comes in many ways nearest in type to the European civilization of the Middle Ages; there is an analogy there which it might be good to take into account.
Furthermore, it must not be forgotten that religious or theological truths, not being, as such, looked at from a purely intellectual point of view, and not having the universality that belongs exclusively to metaphysics alone, are only principles in a relative sense; if the principles proper, of which these are an application, had not been known by at least one or two persons fully conscious of their knowledge, no matter how few, we can hardly see how the tradition, outwardly religious, could have had all the influence which it did
actually exert for so long a period, and have produced, in different domains which do not seem to concern it directly, all the results that history has chronicled and that its modern falsifiers cannot cover up entirely, try as they will. It must be admitted moreover that in the doctrine of the Scholastics there is at least a certain degree of real metaphysics, perhaps not free enough from philosophical contingencies, and not clearly enough distinguished from theology; to be sure, it is not metaphysics in the full sense, but, when all is said and done, it is metaphysics, while in modern philosophy there is no trace of it;[6] and the fact that there was metaphysics there means that this doctrine, as far as it goes, must necessarily be in agreement with every other metaphysical doctrine. The Eastern doctrines go much further, in many different ways, but there may have been in the Middle Ages of the West something to complement the outward teaching, and these complements, being exclusively at the disposal of very inaccessible bodies of men, may never have been formulated in any written text, so that there can only be found at the most, in this respect, symbolic allusions, clear enough for anyone who knows from other sources what is behind it all, but quite unintelligible to anyone else. We are well aware that there is at the moment, in many religious circles, a very definite tendency to deny all 'esoterism', for the past as well as for the present; but we believe that this tendency, besides possibly implying one or two concessions made involuntarily to the modern outlook, is largely due to people being a little too ready, whenever the word is mentioned, to think of the false esoterism of certain people today, which has absolutely nothing in common with the true esoterism that we have in mind, which has left many traces that can still be discovered by anyone who is free from all bias. But however that may be, there is one fact that is incontestable: medieval Europe had from time to time, if not continuously, relations with the Easterners, and these relations had considerable effect in the realm of ideas. It is known, but perhaps
not fully as yet, how much medieval Europe owed to the Arabs, who are the natural intermediaries between the West and the more distant parts of the East; and there was also direct contact with central Asia and even with China. It would not be amiss to study, among other periods, that of Charlemagne and also that of the Crusades, for though they were times of outward strife, there were understandings too on a more inward plane, so to speak; and we must call attention to the fact that strife, roused in this case by the equally religious form of the two traditions in question, is quite pointless and cannot arise where a tradition not clothed in this form is in question, as is the case with the more Eastern civilizations; among these there can be neither antagonism nor even mere rivalry. But we shall have occasion later on to come back to this point; what we want to bring out for the moment is that the Western medieval civilization, with its truly speculative branches of knowledge (even without considering how far they went), and with its social constitution organized in hierarchy, had enough in common with the Eastern civilizations to admit (with the same reserve) of certain interchanges in the order of intellect, which the character of modern civilization, on the contrary, now makes impossible.
If some people, while admitting the absolute necessity for a regeneration of the West, are inclined to prefer a solution by which none other than purely Western means need be resorted to (and, in all conscience, nothing but sentimentality could so incline them), they will no doubt make this objection: why not return purely and simply, though with all the necessary social modifications, to the religious tradition of the Middle Ages? In other words, why not rest content, instead of looking further afield, with giving back to Catholicism once more the pre-eminence which it held at that time, with reconstituting, under an appropriate form, ancient 'Christendom', whose unity was broken by the Reformation and by the events that followed? To be sure, if that could be realized here and now, it would indeed be something achieved, and it would even go far toward clearing up the frightful disorder of the modern world, but unfortunately this is far from being so easy a task as it may seem to certain theorists, and all sorts of obstacles would soon be raised against those who were bent on any definite action along these
lines. We need not enumerate all these difficulties, but we will point out that the mentality of the present day, taken as a whole, hardly seems liable to lend itself to a transformation of this kind, so that here too everything would have to be got ready from the very beginning, and this task, even if those willing to undertake it really had the means of doing so at their disposal, might be no less long and no less arduous than the one that we have in mind ourselves, and its results would be far more superficial. Besides, there is no proof that the traditional civilization of the Middle Ages had only an outward and properly speaking religious side; it is even certain that there was something else, if only scholastic philosophy, and we have just said why we think that there must have been still more, for this philosophy, despite its undeniable interest, remains always merely on the outside. Lastly, if the West were to hedge herself round like this with a special form, the understanding with the other civilizations could only be realized in quite a limited way, instead of first basing itself on what is most fundamental; and so, among the problems which concern it, many would still be left unsolved, not to mention that there would always be a cause for anxiety and a perpetual risk of ruining everything in the excess of Western proselytism, which cannot be definitely checked except by full understanding of the principles, and by the essential agreement which, without even having to be expressly formulated, would be the immediate result. However, it goes without saying that, if the work to be done in the two domains of metaphysics and religion could be carried out side by side, we should see no reason to be anything but thankful, as we are convinced that even if they both went on quite independently of one another, harmony would be the end-result. Besides, if the possibilities we have in mind are to come to anything, a strictly religious revival would be needed sooner or later in any case, religion being a form of tradition especially suited to the West: this revival may be a part of the work that awaits the intellectual elite, once it has been constituted, or else, if this work is already done beforehand, the elite will find there a fitting support for its own activity. The religious form contains everything that is needed by the vast majority of Westerners, who cannot really find in anything else the satisfactions that their temperament calls for; this majority will
never need anything else, and it is with this form as vehicle that it will have to receive the influence of the highest principles, an influence which, although so indirect, will be nonetheless a real participation.[7] In this way there may be, in a full tradition, two complementary and superposed aspects, which cannot possibly contradict one another or come into conflict because they refer to two domains that are essentially distinct; the purely intellectual one, moreover, concerns directly none but the elite, which alone need necessarily be aware of the communication kept up between the two domains to ensure the perfect unity of the traditional doctrine.
In short, we should not like to be in the least exclusive, and we do not think that any work is useless, provided that it be directed along the right lines; efforts that merely concern the most secondary domains may also yield something that is not altogether negligible, with consequences which, though not to be put to an immediate application, may come into their own later and, fitting in with all the rest, play their part, however modest it may be, in the constitution of this whole which we have in mind for a future that is no doubt very far off. This is why there would be, from our point of view, nothing against a study of 'traditional sciences', whatever tradition they may belong to, in the case of someone wanting to undertake it without delay (not in their entirety, which for the moment is impossible, but at least in certain elements), provided firstly that the student has already enough information to keep him from losing his way, which in itself presupposes much more than one might think, and secondly that the study never causes him to lose sight of the essential. These two conditions, moreover, go closely together: he whose intellectuality is developed enough for him to devote himself with unerring confidence to such a study is no longer in danger of being tempted to sacrifice the superior to the inferior: in whatever domain he has to exert his activity, he will never see there anything but a piece of work that is auxiliary to what is achieved in the sphere of the principles. Under the same conditions, if in some of its conclusions 'scientific philosophy' happens
accidentally to agree at times with the ancient 'traditional sciences', there may be some interest in calling attention to the fact, though at the same time care should be taken to avoid the slightest implication that the latter are on a level with any particular scientific or philosophic theory whatsoever, for all such theories change and pass away, whereas everything that has a traditional basis receives from that alone a permanent value which does not depend on the results of any subsequent research. Lastly, as regards points of contact or analogies, it is important never to let oneself be drawn into making false assimilations, seeing that one is dealing with modes of thought that are essentially different. It is impossible to be too cautious of saying anything that might be interpreted in this way, for most of our contemporaries, owing to the very narrowness of their mental horizon, are only too prone to see likenesses where there are none. Within these limits, we can say that everything done in a truly traditional spirit has a purpose, and a deep-seated purpose at that; but there is nonetheless a certain order to be observed, at least in a general way, according to the necessary hierarchy of the different domains. Furthermore, before anyone can have the full traditional outlook (instead of merely a 'traditionalist' one, which only implies a tendency or an aspiration), he must have already penetrated into the domain of the principles, at least enough to have received the inward guidance which, once found, can never be lost sight of.