Part Three. Writings from the Arya (1914 – 1921 On
Ideals and Progress
Conservation and Progress
Mankind thinks naturally in extremes or else reconciles
by a patchwork and compromise. Whether he makes a fetish of moderation or
surrenders himself to the enthusiasm of the single idea, the human being misses
always truth of vision and the right pitch of action because instead of seeing,
feeling and becoming in obedience to his nature like other animate existences he
tries always to measure things by a standard he has set up in his intelligence.
But it is the character of his intelligence that it finds it an easy task to
distinguish and separate but is clumsy in combining. When it combines, it tends
to artificialise and falsify. It feels at ease in pursuing a single idea to its
logical consequences and in viewing things from a single standpoint; but to
harmonise different ideas in action and to view the facts from different
standpoints is contrary to its native impulse; therefore it does that badly,
with an ill grace and without mastery. Oftenest it makes an incongruous
patchwork rather than a harmony. The human mind is strong and swift in analysis;
it synthesises with labour and imperfectly and does not feel at home in its
syntheses. It divides, opposes and, placed between the oppositions it creates,
becomes an eager partisan of one side or another; but to think wisely and
impartially and with a certain totality is irksome and disgusting to the normal
human being.
All human action as all human thought suffers from
these disabilities. For it is seduced by a trenchant idea which it follows
without proper attention to collateral issues, to necessary companion ideas, to
the contrary forces in operation, or else it regards these merely as enemies,
brands them as pure falsehood and evil and strives with more or less violence to
crush them out of existence. Then it sees other ideas which it attempts to
realise in turn, either adding them to its past notions and possessions or else rejecting these entirely for the new light; it makes a fresh
war and a new clearance and denies its past work in the interest of a future
attainment. But it has also its repentances, its returns, its recalls and
re-enthronings of banished gods and even of lifeless ghosts and phantoms to
which it gives a temporary and false appearance of life. And on the way it has
continually its doubts, scruples, hesitations, its portentous assumptions of a
sage moderation and a gradual and cautious advance. But human moderation is
usually a wiseacre and a botcher; it sews a patch of new velvet on old fustian
or of new fustian on old velvet and admires its deplorable handiwork. And its
cautious advance means an accumulation of shams, fictions and dead conventions
till the burden of falsehood becomes too great for life to bear and a violent
revolution is necessary to deliver the soul of humanity out of the immobilising
cerements of the past. Such is the type of our progress; it is the advance of an
ignorant and purblind but always light-attracted spirit, a being half-animal,
half-god, stumbling forward through the bewildering jungle of its own errors.
This characteristic of human mentality shows itself in
the opposition we create between conservation and progress. Nothing in the
universe can really stand still because everything there is a mould of Time and
the very essence of Time is change by a movement forward. It is true that the
world’s movement is not in a straight line; there are cycles, there are spirals;
but still it circles, not round the same point always, but round an ever
advancing centre, and therefore it never returns exactly upon its old path and
never goes really backward. As for standing still, it is an impossibility, a
delusion, a fiction. Only the spirit is stable; the soul and body of things are
in eternal motion. And in this motion there are the three determining powers of
the past, future and present,– the present a horizontal and constantly shifting
line without breadth between a vast realised infinity that both holds back and
impels and a vast unrealised infinity that both repels and attracts.
The past is both a drag and a force for progress. It is
all that has created the present and a great part of the force that is creating
the future. For the past is not dead; its forms are
gone and had to go, otherwise the present would not have come into being: but
its soul, its power, its essence lives veiled in the present and
ever-accumulating, growing, deepening will live on in the future. Every human
being holds in and behind him all the past of his own race, of humanity and of
himself; these three things determine his starting-point and pursue him through
his life’s progress. It is in the force of this past, in the strength which its
huge conservations give to him that he confronts the unillumined abysses of the
future and plunges forward into the depths of its unrealised infinities. But
also it is a drag, partly because man afraid of the unknown clings to the old
forms of which he is sure, the old foundations which feel so safe under his
feet, the old props round which so many of his attachments and associations cast
their tenacious tendrils, but also partly because the forces of the past keep
their careful hold on him so as to restrain him in his uncertain course and
prevent the progress from becoming a precipitation.
The future repels us even while it irresistibly
attracts. The repulsion lies partly in our own natural recoil from the unknown,
because every step into this unknown is a wager between life and death; every
decision we make may mean either the destruction or the greater fulfilment of
what we now are, of the name and form to which we are attached. But also it lies
in the future itself; for there, governing that future, there are not only
powers which call us to fulfil them and attract us with an irresistible force
but other powers which have to be conquered and do not desire to yield
themselves. The future is a sphinx with two minds, an energy which offers itself
and denies, gives itself and resists, seeks to enthrone us and seeks to slay.
But the conquest has to be attempted, the wager has to be accepted. We have to
face the future’s offer of death as well as its offer of life, and it need not
alarm us, for it is by constant death to our old names and forms that we shall
live most vitally in greater and newer forms and names. Go on we must; for if we
do not, Time itself will force us forward in spite of our fancied immobility.
And this is the most pitiable and dangerous movement of all. For what can be
more pitiable than to be borne helplessly forward
clinging to the old that disintegrates in spite of our efforts and shrieking
frantically to the dead ghosts and dissolving fragments of the past to save us
alive? And what can be more dangerous than to impose immobility on that which is
in its nature mobile? This means an increasing and horrible rottenness; it means
an attempt to persist on as a putrid and stinking corpse instead of a living and
self-renewing energetic creature. The greatest spirits are therefore those who
have no fear of the future, who accept its challenge and its wager; they have
that sublime trust in the God or Power that guides the world, that high audacity
of the human soul to wrestle with the infinite and realise the impossible, that
wise and warrior confidence in its ultimate destiny which mark the Avatars and
prophets and great innovators and renovators.
If we consider carefully we shall see that the past is
indeed a huge force of conservation, but of conservation that is not immobile,
but on the contrary offers itself as material for change and new realisation;
that the present is the constant change and new actual realisation which the
past desires and compels; and that the future is that force of new realisation
not yet actual towards which the past was moving and for the sake of which it
lived. Then we perceive that there is no real opposition between these three; we
see that they are parts of a single movement, a sort of Trinity of
Vishnu-Brahma-Maheshwara fulfilling by an inseparable action the one Deity. Yet
the human mind in its mania of division and opposition seeks to set them at
strife and ranges humanity into various camps, the partisans of the past, the
partisans of the present, the partisans of the future, the partisans of all
sorts of compromises between the three forces. Nature makes good use of the
struggle between these partisans and her method is necessary in our present
state of passionate ignorance and egoistic obstinacy; but none the less is it
from the point of view of a higher knowledge a pitiably ignorant struggle.
The partisans of the future call themselves the party
of progress, the children of light and denounce the past as ignorant, evil, a
mass of errors and abuses; their view alone has the monopoly of the light, the
truth, the good – a light, good and truth which will equally be denounced as
error and evil by succeeding generations. The
partisans of the present look with horror upon all progress as an impious and
abominable plunge into error and evil and degeneration and ruin; for them the
present is the culmination of humanity,– as previous “present” times were for
all the preceding generations and as the future which they abhor will be for
these unprogressive souls if they should then reincarnate; they will then defend
it with the same passion and asperity against another future as they now attack
it in the interests of the present. The partisans of the past are of two kinds.
The first admit the defects of the present but support it in so far as it still
cherishes the principles of the high, perfect, faultless, adorable past, that
golden age of the race or community, and because even if somewhat degenerate,
its forms are a bulwark against the impiety of progress; if they admit any
change, it is in the direction of the past that they seek it. A second kind
condemn the present root and branch as degenerate, hateful, horrible, vicious,
accursed; they erect a past form as the hope of a humanity returning to the
wisdom of its forefathers. And to such quarrels of children the intellectuals
and the leaders of thought and faith lend the power of the specious or moving
word and the striking idea and the emotional fervour or religious ardour which
they conceive to be the very voice and light and force of Truth itself in its
utter self-revelation.
The true thinker can dispense with the éclat which
attaches to the leader of partisans. He will strive to see this great divine
movement as a whole, to know in its large lines the divine intention and goal in
it without seeking to fix arbitrarily its details; he will strive to understand
the greatness and profound meaning of the past without attaching himself to its
forms, for he knows that forms must change and only the formless endures and
that the past can never be repeated, but only its essence preserved, its power,
its soul of good and its massed impulse towards a greater self-fulfilment; he
will accept the actual realisations of the present as a stage and nothing more,
keenly appreciating its defects, self-satisfied errors, presumptuous pretensions
because these are the chief enemies of progress, but not ignoring the truth and
good that it has gained; and he will sound the future
to understand what the Divine in it is seeking to realise, not only at the
present moment, not only in the next generation, but beyond, and for that he
will speak, strive, if need be battle, since battle is the method still used by
Nature in humanity, even while all the while he knows that there is more yet
beyond beside which, when it comes to light, the truth he has seized will seem
erroneous and limited. Therefore he will act without presumption and egoism,
knowing that his own errors and those which he combats are alike necessary
forces in that labour and movement of human life towards the growing Truth and
Good by which there increases shadowily the figure of a far-off divine Ideal.
or else rejecting these entirely for the new light; it makes a fresh
war and a new clearance and denies its past work in the interest of a future
attainment. But it has also its repentances, its returns, its recalls and
re-enthronings of banished gods and even of lifeless ghosts and phantoms to
which it gives a temporary and false appearance of life. And on the way it has
continually its doubts, scruples, hesitations, its portentous assumptions of a
sage moderation and a gradual and cautious advance. But human moderation is
usually a wiseacre and a botcher; it sews a patch of new velvet on old fustian
or of new fustian on old velvet and admires its deplorable handiwork. And its
cautious advance means an accumulation of shams, fictions and dead conventions
till the burden of falsehood becomes too great for life to bear and a violent
revolution is necessary to deliver the soul of humanity out of the immobilising
cerements of the past. Such is the type of our progress; it is the advance of an
ignorant and purblind but always light-attracted spirit, a being half-animal,
half-god, stumbling forward through the bewildering jungle of its own errors.
