facts and to draw our conclusions from them, on which facts reasoning
is based."
The Shogun does not fail to draw our attention to the difference between
experience and experimentation.
"This last," said he, "only serves to incite the manifestation of
the first.
"It consists of determining the production of a phenomenon whose
existence will aid us in establishing the underlying principles of an
observation which interprets the event.
"That is what is called experience.
"Comparison is a mental operation which permits us to bring things that
we desire to understand to a certain point.
"It is comparison which has divided time according to periods, which the
moon follows during its entire length.
"It is by comparing their different aspects and by calculating the
duration of their transformations, that men have been able to divide time
as they do in all the countries of the world.
"The science of numbers is also born of comparison, which has been
established between the quantities that they represent.
"This is the art of calculating the differences existing between each
thing, by determining the relativeness of their respective proportions.
"Comparison acts on the mind automatically, as a rule.
"It is indispensable to the cultivation of common sense, for it furnishes
the means of judging with full knowledge of all the circumstances.
"Analysis is an operation, which consists of separating each detail from
the whole and of examining these details separately, without losing sight
of their relationship to the central element.
"Analysis of the same object, while being scrupulously exact, can,
however, differ materially in its application, according to the way that
the object is related to this or that group of circumstances.
"There are, however, immutable things.
"For example: the letters of the alphabet, the elementary sounds, the
colors etc., etc.
"It suffices to quote only these three elements; one can easily
understand that the most elaborate manuscript is composed of only a
definite number of letters always repeating themselves, whose
juxtaposition forms phrases, then chapters, and finally the
complete work.
"Music is composed only of seven sounds whose different combinations
produce an infinite variety of melodies.
"Elementary colors are only three in number.
"All the others gravitate around them.
"Therefore, these same letters, these same notes, these same colors,
according to their amalgamation, can change in aspect and cooperate in
the production of different effects.
"The same letters can express, according to the order in which they are
placed, terror or confidence, joy or grief.
"The same is true of notes and colors.
"Common sense ought then, considering these rules, to know how to analyze
all the details and, having done this, to coordinate and to classify
them, in order to distinguish them easily.
"Coordination and classification form an integral part of common sense."
And Yoritomo, who delights in reducing the most complex questions to
examples of the rarest simplicity, says to us:
"I am supposing that one person says to another, I have just met a negro.
The interlocutor, as well as he who mechanically registers this fact,
without thinking, gives himself up to analysis and to coordination which
always precedes synthesis.
"Without being aware of this mental action, their minds will be occupied
first with the operations of perception then of classification.
"This negro was a man of a color which places him in a certain group of
the human race.
"It is always thus that common sense proceeds, its principal merit being
to know how to unite present perceptions with those previously cognized,
then to understand how to coordinate them so as to be able to group them
concretely, that is to say, to synthesize them.
"Destination is defined as the purpose or object, born of deduction and
of classification.
"Destination does not permit of losing sight of the end which is
proposed.
"It allows the consideration of the purpose to predominate always, and
directs all actions toward this purpose, these actions being absolutely
the demonstrations of this unique thought.
"Habits, acquired in view of certain realizations, ought to be dropt from
the moment the purpose is accomplished, or that it is weakened."
It is by absolutely perpetuating those habits, whose pretext has
disappeared, that one sees the achievement of certain actions which have
been roughly handled by common sense.
"There are," again says the philosopher, "certain customs, whose origin
it is impossible to remember; at the time of their birth, they were
engendered by necessity, but even tho their purpose be obliterated,
tradition has preserved them in spite of everything, and those who
observe them do not take into consideration their absurdity.
"People of common sense refrain from lending themselves to these useless
practises, or, if they consent to allow them a place in their thoughts it
is that they attribute to them some reason for existence, either
practical or sentimental."
Direction is indicated by circumstances, by environment, or by necessity.
There is direction of resolutions as well as direction of a journey; it
is necessary, from the beginning, to consider well the choice of a good
route, after having done everything possible to discriminate carefully
between it and all other routes proposed.
It happens, however, that the way leads also through the cross-roads; it
is even indispensable to leave the short cuts in order to trace the
outline of the obstacles.
Direction is, then, an important factor in the acquiring of common sense.
The putting of the question takes its character from comparison, from
experience, and principally from approximation; but it is in itself a
synthesis of all the elements which compose common sense.
He who wishes to acquire common sense should be impregnated with all that
has preceded.
Then he will discipline himself, so as to be able to judge, by himself,
of the degree of reason which he has the right to assume.
He will begin by evoking some subject, comparing its visual forms with,
those forms which he understands the best, in other words, to the
perceptions which are the most familiar to him.
If it concerns a question to be solved, he will try to recall some
similar subject, and establish harmony, by making them both relative to a
common antecedent.
Yoritomo advises choosing simple thoughts for the beginning.
"One will say, for example:
"Such a substance is a poison; the seeds of this fruit contain a weak
dose of it; these seeds could then become a dangerous food, if one
absorbed a considerable quantity.
"Common sense will thus indicate a certain abstaining from eating of it.
"Then one may extend his argument to things of a greater importance, but
taking great care to keep within the narrow limits of rudimentary logic.
"One must be impregnated with this principle:
"Two things equal to a third demand an affirmative judgment or decision.
"In the opposite case the negative deduction is enjoined.
"It is by deductions from the most ordinary facts that one succeeds in
making common sense intervene automatically in all our judgments.
"What would be thought of one who, finding himself in a forest at the
time of a violent storm, would reason as follows:
"First: The high summits attract lightning.
"Secondly: Here is a giant tree.
"Thirdly: I'm going to take refuge there.
"Then it is that common sense demands that the state his three
propositions as follows:
"First: High summits attract lightning.
"Secondly: Here is a giant tree.
"Thirdly: I'm going to avoid its proximity because it will surely be
dangerous.
"If he acted otherwise; if, in spite of his knowledge of the danger, he
took shelter under the branches of the gigantic tree, exposing himself to
be struck by lightning, one could, in this case, only reproach him with
imprudence and lay the blame to the lack of common sense which allowed
him to perform the act that logic condemned."
Now the old Nippon speaks to us of the means to employ, that we may avoid
pronouncing too hasty judgments, which are always, of necessity, weakened
by a too great indulgence for ourselves and at the same time too great a
severity for others.
"I was walking one day," said he, "on the shores of a lake, when I
discovered a man sitting at the foot of a bamboo tree, in an attitude of
the greatest despair.
"Approaching him, I asked him the cause of his grief.
"'Alas!' said he to me, 'the gods are against me; everything which I
undertake fails, and all evils crush me.
"'After the one which has just befallen me only one course of action is
left to me, to throw myself in the lake. But I am young, and I am weeping
for myself before resolving to take such a step.'
"And he related to me how, after many attempts without success, he had at
last gained a certain sum of money, the loss of which he had just
experienced.
"In what way did you lose it?" I asked him.
"'I put it in this bag.'
"'Has some one stolen it?'
"'No, it has slipt through this rent.'
"And he showed me a bag, whose ragged condition confirmed, and at the
same time illustrated his statement.
"'Listen,' said I, sitting down beside him, 'you are simply devoid of
common sense, by invoking the hatred of the gods! You alone are the cause
of your present misery.
"'If you had simply reasoned before placing your money in this bag, this
would not have happened to you.'
"And as he opened his eyes wide:
"'You would have thought this,' I resumed:
"'The material, very much worn, is incapable of standing any weight
without tearing.
"'Now, the money which I possess is heavy, my bag is worn out.
"'I shall not, therefore, put my money in this bag or, at least, I shall
take care to line it beforehand with a solid piece of leather.
"'From this moment,' I proceeded, 'there only remains one thing for you
to do, always consult common sense before coming to any conclusion, and
you will always succeed.
"'As for your opinion concerning the hatred of the gods for you, if
you will once more call common sense to your assistance you will
reason as follows:
"'Gracious divinities protect only wise people.
"'Now, I have acted like a fool.
"'It is, therefore, natural that they should turn away from me.'
"How many useless imprecations would be avoided," adds the Shogun, "if it
were given to men to know how to employ the arguments which common sense
dictates, in order to distribute the weight of the mistakes committed
among those who deserve the burden, without, at the same time, forgetting
to assume our own share of the responsibility if we have erred.
"Nothing is more sterile than regrets or reproaches when they do not
carry with them the resolution never again to fall into the same error."
Afterward the philosopher demonstrates to us the necessity of abstracting
all personality from the exercises which combine for the attainment of
common sense.
"There is," said he, "an obstacle against which all stupid people
stumble; it is the act of reasoning under the influence of passion.
"Those who have not decided to renounce this method of arguing will never
be able to give a just decision.
"There are self-evident facts, which certain people refuse to admit,
because this statement of the truth offends their sympathies or impedes
their hatreds, and they force themselves to deny the evidence, hoping
thus to deceive others regarding it.
"But truth is always the strongest and they soon become the solitary
dupes of their own wilful blindness.
"The man of common sense knows how to recognize falsehood wherever he
meets it; he knows how vain it is to conceal a positive fact and also how
dangerous it is to deceive oneself, a peril which increases in power, in
proportion to the effort made to ignore it.
"He does not wish to imitate those pusillanimous people who prefer to
live in the agony of doubt rather than to look misfortunes in the
face. He who is determined to acquire common sense will use the
following argument:
"Doubt is a conflict between two conclusions.
"So long as it exists it is impossible to adopt either.
"Serenity is unknown to those whom doubt attacks.
"To obtain peace, it is necessary to become enlightened.
"However, it is wise always to foresee the least happy issue and to
prepare to support the consequences.
"The man who thinks thus will be stronger than adversity and will know
how to struggle with misfortune without allowing it to master him."
It is in these terms that Yoritomo initiates us into what he calls the
mechanism of common sense; in other words, the art of acquiring by the
simplest reasoning this quality dull as iron, but, like it, also solid
and durable.
LESSON IX
COMMON SENSE AND ACTION
These qualities are two relatives very near of kin; but, just for this
reason, they must not be confounded.
While common sense is applied to all the circumstances of life, practical
sense is applicable to useful things.
Common sense admits a very subtle logic which is, at times, a
little complex.
Practical sense reasons, starting from one point only; viz., material
conveniences.
It is possible for this sense to be spoiled by egotism, if common sense
does not come to its assistance.
It is by applying the discipline of reasoning to practical sense that it
modifies simple sense perception by urging it to ally itself with logic,
which unites thought to sentiment and reason.
"The association of common sense and practical sense is necessary," says
Yoritomo, "in order to produce new forms, at the same time restraining
the imagination within the limits of the most exact deductions and of the
most impartial judgment."
Science is, in reality, a sort of common sense to which the rules of
reasoning are applied, and is supported by arguments which practical
sense directs into productive channels.
That which is called great common sense is none other than a quality with
which people are endowed who show great mental equilibrium whenever it is
a question of resolving material problems.
These people are generally country people or persons of humble
position, whose physical organism has been developed without paying
much attention to their intellectual education; they are, in fact,
perfect candidates for the attainment of common sense, without having
been educated to this end.
Their aptitude results from a constant habit of reflection which,
rendering their attention very keen, has permitted them to observe the
most minute details, therefore they can form correct conclusions, when it
is a question of things that are familiar to them.
A peasant who has been taught by nature will be more skilled in
prophesying about the weather than others.
He will also know how to assign a limit to the daily working hours, at
the same time stating the maximum time which one can give without
developing repulsion, which follows excesses of all kinds.
In his thought, very simple, but very direct, will be formulated this
perfect reasoning:
Health is the first of all blessings, since without it we are incapable
of appreciating the other joys of life.
If I compromise this possession I shall be insensible to all others.
It is, therefore, indispensable that I should measure my efforts, for,
admitting that a certain exaggerated labor brings me a fortune, I shall
not know how to enjoy it if illness accompanies it.
This is the logic which is called practical sense.
Yoritomo continues, saying that there is a very close connection between
the faculty of judging and that of deducing.
"Practical sense, allied to common sense, comes to the assistance of the
latter, when it is tempted to reject the chain of analogy, whose
representation too often draws one far from the initial subject.
"It facilitates coordination, clearness, and precision of thought.
"It knows how to consider contingencies, and never fails to have a clear
understanding of relative questions."
And to illustrate his theory, he cites us an example which many of our
young contemporaries would do well to remember.
"There was," said he, "in the village of Fu-Isher, a literary man, who
wrote beautiful poems.
"He lived in great solitude, and no one would have heard of his existence
if it had not been that my master, Lang-Ho, while walking in the woods
one day, was attracted by the harmonious sounds of poetry, which this
young man was reciting, without thinking that he had any other listeners
than the birds of the forest.
"Lang-Ho made himself known to him and began to question him.
"He learned that he did not lack ambition, but, being poor, and having no
means of approaching those who would have been able to patronize him, he
was singing of nature for his own pleasure, waiting patiently until he
should be able to influence the powerful ones of the earth to share his
appreciation.
"Lang-Ho, touched by his youth and his ardor, pointed out to him the
dwelling of a prince, a patron of the arts, and, at the same time, told
him how he ought to address the nobleman, assuring him that the fact of
his being a messenger from a friend of the prince would open the doors of
the palace to him.
"The next day the young poet presented himself at the home of the
great lord, who, knowing that he had been sent by Lang-Ho, received
him in spite of the fact that he was suffering intensely from a
violent headache.
"He learned from the young man that he was a poet and treated him with
great consideration, making him understand, however, that all sustained
mental effort was insupportable to him on that day.
"But the poet, not paying attention to the prince's exprest desire,
unrolled his manuscripts and began reading an interminable ode without
noticing the signs of impatience shown by his august hearer.
"He did not have the pleasure of finishing it.
"The prince, seeing that the reader did not understand his importunity,
struck a gong and ordered the servant who appeared to conduct the young
man out of his presence.
"Later, he declared to Lang-Ho that his protégé had no talent at all, and
reprimanded him severely for having sent the poet to the palace.
"But my master did not like to be thus criticized.
"So, a little while after that, one day, when that same prince was in an
agreeable frame of mind, Lang-Ho invited him to the reading of one of
his works.
"The nobleman declared that he had never heard anything more beautiful.
"'That is true,' said Lang-Ho, 'but you ought to have said this the first
time you heard it.'
"And he revealed to the prince that these verses were those of the young
man whom he had judged so harshly."
From this story two lessons may be drawn:
The first is, that if common sense indicates that judgment should not
change from scorn to enthusiasm, when it is a question of the same
object, practical sense insists that one should be certain of
impartiality of judgment, by avoiding the influence of questions which
relate to environment and surrounding circumstances.
The second concerns opportunity.
We have already had occasion to say how much some things, which seem
desirable at certain times, are questionable when the situation changes.
Bad humor creates ill-will; therefore it is abominably stupid to
provoke the manifestation of the second when one has proved the
existence of the first.
In order that there may be a connection between the faculty of judgment
and that of deduction, it is essential that nothing should be allowed to
interpose itself between these two phases of the argument.
Harmony between all judgments is founded on common sense, but it is
practical common sense, which indicates this harmony with precision.
It is also practical common sense which serves as a guide to the orator
who wishes to impress his audience.
He will endeavor first to choose a subject which will interest those who
listen to him.
In this endeavor he ought, above all, to consult opportunity.
And, as we have remarked on many occasions, the Shogun expresses theories
on this subject, to which the people of the twentieth century could not
give too much earnest consideration.
"There are," said he, "social questions, as, for example, dress
and custom.
"With time, opinions change, as do forms and manners, and this is quite
reasonable.
"The progress of science by ameliorating the general conditions of
existence, introduces a need created by civilization which rejects
barbarous customs; the mentality of a warrior is not that of an
agriculturist; the man who thinks about making his possessions productive
has not the same inclinations as he whose life is devoted to conquest,
and the sweetness of living in serenity, by modifying the aspirations,
metamorphoses all things.
"In order to lead attention in the direction which is governed by reason,
it is indispensable for the orator that he should expound a subject whose
interpretation will satisfy the demand of opportunity, which influences
every brain.
"Practical sense will make him take care to speak only of things that he
has studied thoroughly.
"It will induce him to expound his theory in such a way that his hearers
will have to make no effort to assimilate it.
"That which is not understood is easily criticized, and practical sense
would prevent an orator from attempting to establish an argument whose
premises would offend common sense.
"He would be certain of failure in such a case.
"His efforts will be limited, then, to evoking common sense, by employing
practical sense, so far as what refers to the application of principles
which he desires to apply successfully."
Yoritomo recommends this affiliation for that which concerns the struggle
against superstition.
"Superstition," he says, "offends practical sense as well as common
sense, for it rests on an erroneous analysis.
"Its foundation is always an observation marred by falsity, establishing
an association between two facts which have nothing in common.
"There are people who reenter their homes if, when they reach the
threshold, they perceive a certain bird; others believe that they are
threatened with death if they meet a white cat."
Without going back to the days of Yoritomo, we shall find just as many
people who are the victims of superstitions concerning certain facts,
which are only the observance of customs fallen into disuse, and whose
practise has been perpetuated through the ages, altho, as we have said in
the preceding chapter, the purpose of the custom has disappeared, but the
custom itself has not been forgotten.
It is in this way that the origin of the superstition concerning salt
dates back to the time of the Romans, who (while at variance with the
principles of contemporary agriculture) sowed salt in the fields of their
enemies and thought that by so doing they would make them sterile.
To that far-distant epoch can be traced the origin of the superstition
concerning the spilling of salt.
Whatever may have been its cause, superstition is the enemy of common
sense, for, when it does not originate in an abolished custom, it is the
product of a personal impression, associating two ideas absolutely
unconnected.
"Practical sense," Yoritomo continues, "is a most valuable talent to
cultivate, for it prevents our judging from appearances.
"Frivolous minds are always inclined to draw conclusions from passing
impressions; they adopt neither foresight, nor precaution, nor
approximation.
"There are people who will condemn a country as utterly unattractive,
because they happened to have visited it under unfavorable circumstances.
"Others, without considering what a country has previously produced, and
that at present the grain has not been planted, will declare unfertile
the soil which has been untilled for some months.
"On the other hand, if they visit a house on a sunny day, it would be
impossible for them to associate it with the idea of rain.
"It would be most difficult to make these people alter their judgment,
prematurely formed, and, in spite of the most authoritative assertions
and the most self-evident proofs, their initial idea will dominate all
those which one would like to instil into their minds.