ACQUISITION OF DOMINATING POWER LESSON XII

"The warriors of old," says Yoritomo, "were very fond of insignia, which they believed to be likely to impress their enemies. They liked to wear fearsome masks, the manes of beasts, or helmets the top of which represented the heads of an animal.”

"One great general arrayed himself in a helmet the tip of which bore the feature of a mattock, and on the visor were engraved characters the combination of which represented the words ‘mattock’, ‘way’, and ‘rock’, which the learned have interpreted as follows:

"If the ‘way’ is not opened by my ‘mattock,’ I will lay it out even in the ’rock. ’”

"Now what idea dominated all those warriors if not the desire to impress their enemies, some by fear, others by intimidation?"

"But there is a kind of influence a thousand-fold more valuable than all these rude methods and barbarous attempts to bring an emotion by means of bloodthirsty symbols. The domain of thought is open to all those who feel themselves unworthy of entering it; it is for those who know the turnings of a beautiful garden with multifarious paths.”

“On each fresh excursion they discover psalm hitherto unknown paths which they explore always with increasing interest.”

"The flowers which border them are gorgeous or poor, according as they shed on them the rays of intelligence placed at the disposal of the powers of the will which are latent in them.”

“But those whose languid action cannot lift the torch, whose indolence neglects to enkindle it, do not enjoy the sight of these diversified flowers. In the gloom from which they look on them, they perceive them but indistinctly, and the path seems to them so uninteresting that they lose the desire to seek in it for new objects.”

"Those, on the other hand, who know how to throw the floral beauties into the light derive from their contemplation so exquisite an enjoyment that there always arises in them the desire for fresh explorations, and also the wish to share their admiration, by introducing some persons to the marvels which they have encountered, and by teaching others how to see them in all their splendor.”

"This is the secret of the dominating influence which certain man exercise over others. Those alone who know how to throw the flowers of thought into the light, after having sought and found them, can acquire sufficient power to influence the destinies of others.”

This is what, in language less florid but nonetheless ornate, modern thinkers tell us:

"There is," says Durville, "an intercommunication between ourselves and others of such a nature that perpetually, night and day, we are receiving and giving fourth again influences which model us, change us, and gradually alter our mode of life.”

"It is, therefore, through instigation from without that we and by making ourselves what we are: good or bad, happy or miserable.”

Again Atkinson says: "Thought plays a decisive part in human life.”

"It encompasses the individual. It is the cord which binds him to his fellows and by means of which are gathered together, to join and mingle in a single current, all surrounding energies.”

This is likewise the opinion of Turnbull, who recommends this method of acquiring the power necessary to first subdue those whom we wish afterward to influence: "Lay well to heart," says he, "that this person is an instrument through which pass mental currents and that you yourself are an instrument which not only produces but also receives and retains strongly such currents to receive and retain.”

"You can then begin without hesitation to make him speak, while making a judicious use of a fixed, unwavering look. Employ all your tact and finesse in doing so discreetly; at the same time you retain unmoved your own power, as if you were concentrating yourself on yourself.”

"By causing mental currents to pass before your interlocutor under the form of timely questions and suggestions, you awaken in him responsive currents; you find out his likes and dislikes, and, by encouraging his confidence, through the current derived from an approval delicately expressed, you will soon succeed in making him vibrate in unison with yourself.”

He who would acquire the power of domination that allows him to subdue to the action of his beneficent force the minds, which he wishes to direct, must, above all, compel himself to create between him and his disciple a client of intellectual level that will be of infinite service to him in his apostolate.

It is by creating sympathy that these vibrations in unison, so indispensable in the formation of influence, will be obtained. Sympathy begets confidence and paves the way for beneficent suggestions.

"He who knows how to attract sympathy," said Yoritomo, "is like a kindly light toward which turn all those whose minds are covered with moral darkness. Their development is rarely very speedy, and that is preferable, otherwise they would be dazzled before being enlightened; it is better to attract them slowly but irresistibly.”

"Then, already imbued with the distant radiance, they will already have some out of darkness when they approach quite nearer to him who is to give them clear light and, grown familiar with the brilliant rays, they will endure its utmost intensity without flinching.”

It is, in fact, one of the powers of sympathy to attract slowly but to retain surely those who feel themselves drawn to a sympathetic person by an attraction at first vague and ill defined, later justified by a thousand reasons, the principal of which, and soon the only one, will be the attraction which he possesses dominating power exerts over others.

It is better, as Yoritomo says, for this power to assert itself less roughly to have more chances of permanency. It is preferable to illumine slowly people's minds with a well-defined gleam than to dazzle them to the extent of causing them a discomfort, which will make them seek the darkness as a relief.

One of the secrets of dominating power lies in exciting similarity of feelings by adopting for the time being those that are within the compass of the person whom we wish to influence.

The feeling of condescension should be given up by strong minds; he who believes that he is lowering himself with regard to his disciple, by instilling in him principles, which he regards as too elementary, will never succeed as a director of men.

The master who would use the power of suggestion in earnest should for a moment give up his own mind to adopt the that of the man whom he is teaching; this is the only way of creating a bond of mutual confidence.

"He who would teach the first characters in writing should be able to create a child's mind in himself," said the Shogun.

We must admit that, to fulfill this condition, it is necessary to be already in possession of a rare self-mastery. Now he who can master himself is already qualified to master others.

If ambition and confidence in one's own worth are the attributes of dominating power, self-sufficiency is always the stumbling block over which he trips whom pride prevents from looking down at his feet.

Self-sufficiency almost always begets arrogance, which is of no use in producing sympathy and competence.

This exaggerated idea of "Ego" is never dictated by the consciousness of real merit, but rather by the imaginary swelling of virtues that we ascribe too freely to ourselves, as though to divert our minds with the noise of our own words.

If we wish to be sincere, we shall recognize very quickly that these virtues are imaginary, and that the parade which we make of them arises only from a great desire to possess them; that, the power having failed for assuring the gaining of them, we prefer, by proclaiming loudly that we possess them, to shirk the effort of acquiring them.

This is why self-sufficient persons, in the category of whom we must place those out of whom an empty pride beats out nobility of character, will never have the aptitude for exerting an influence over the minds of others.

Unable to derive from themselves the energy necessary to become what they would like to be, they cannot emit around themselves that power which fails them, and there domination over others will never be established.

Melancholy persons, those who are the victims of hypochondria, are by no means destined to become shepherds of the multitude.

Melancholy almost always begets a mental condition bordering on indifference; it suppresses the desire for life, the key of all good resolutions and continual perseverance.

Every effort of the melancholy is quickly halted by that terrible, "What is the good?"which proclaims the end of everything and the vanity of life.

What influence can a man exercise whose powers of energy are destroyed by indifference and apathy?He has hardly the strength to live himself; where will he find the strength to teach others?

Cheerfulness is one of the requisite conditions for controlling others; not that boisterous mirth which is made up of bursts of laughter, the reasons for which are not always of the most refined nature, but that inward peace which we define as cheerfulness and which is the mark of highly developed minds.

A man of fine character will never be melancholy; hypochondria is the trademark of the incapable; it is the commencement of manias and of all crazes that desolate humanity and abase its moral level.

The philosophers of ill omen whose teaching has clouded so many young brains have defined enjoyment as follows:

Ah, well! But is not that worth an effort, to suffer no longer, and can we regard as a madman the man who laborers to end this suffering, by substituting for it the joy of living, which opens men’s minds to the cult of beauty?

The art of happiness lies especially in the great wish to live. If Yoritomo was not willing to raise the burning question of free will, he nonetheless admits the unquestionable influence of each one of us on our own destiny.

"Men," said he, "are for the most part like the fool who shivered, cowering in a snowdrift, while around him the sun bathed the mountain with its burning rays. He cursed the snow, the cold, the hateful country where he dwelled, and the misery of his existence which had to be spent in suffering and barrenness.”

"In vain people signaled to him of nearby paths, in vain for they showed him from afar flowers gathered on the way; he was obstinately bent on doing nothing to free himself from his sufferings and continued to curse the place which it would have been so easy to leave and deplored the unhappiness of the fate which had caused him to be born in that inclement country.”

Have we not here in very truth the picture of the pessimist who denies the existence of happiness and beauty while pretending to turn away when they pass his door?

Such persons may perchance exercise a pernicious influence over weak minds, but it will always be limited, for -we cannot repeat it too often - real influence over others is only acquired at the price of complete mastery of oneself.

This mastery should be the aim of the efforts of the man who wishes to possess this faculty and to make use of it for his own happiness and that of those with whom he comes in contact.

"Again," said the Nippon philosopher, "we should keep ourselves from too commonplace associations, for, granting this truth that the thought which we emit about us is taken in by those around, we ought to beware of the imbibing of commonplace thought which, when repeat too often, will end by occupying, unknown to ourselves, a place in our brain and will weaken the quality of the power.”

"The higher type of man should never harbor a medley of ideas. He who frames thoughts the waves of which spread themselves around him succeeds, by a succession of adulatory movements which may be compared with those of sound, in striking the intelligence of others by setting their brains in vibration, in other words, in a state to receive the floating thought.”

"But the really forceful man, one whose secret energies are concentrated on the gaining of influence, one whose aim is to acquire dominating power, will harbor no ignoble thoughts, for he will not barter away the first to arrive of these flowers of the mind; if he finds himself among people of small intellectual caliber he will surpass them with all the mighty power that his knowledge and his strength of will confer on him.”

"He will know how to listen to them, then to talk to them, perhaps to convince them, but not for a moment will he submit himself to imbibing their commonplace thoughts, for having come among them in the spirit of an apostle he is too conscious of his own excellence, he knows too well his own superiority, he is, in a word, on too lofty a pedestal to allow himself to be affected by things beneath him.”

"Does the granite stoop to the ivy that twines itself about it while mounting toward the towers in its need of protection and support?"

The Shogun remarks also that this plant, which without the support of the granite, would trail miserably off the ground, ends, when it has covered the surface at every point by forming an essential part of the building, to such a degree that its frail tendrils effect more for the durability of the works of man then the hardest marbles chiseled by the most skillful workmen. And he asked:

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"How many ancient towers, that seemed of unquestionable solidity, crumble to pieces when deprived of the parasites that seemed to overrun them?"

"So it is with all those who possess power; they maintain themselves only because they create disciples whose devotion serves to consolidate their work. But if they cannot retain the influence which a first they have sent forth around them, their followers fall away one by one, and the man left alone soon sees the edifice of his superiority crumbled to pieces.”

"Dominating power," Yoritomo proceeds, ”is developed especially by an apostolate the exercise of which, by creating a mental current between the master and those whom he is teaching, wards off opposing currents.”

In the cant of modern science it is said in fact that material builders, drawn by the attractive force of thought, are always displeased in feeble minds by a stronger influence, but that the converse does not hold good.

Such is the comment of the Japanese philosopher when he tells us:

"Do not rub shoulders with a commonplace mind except with intention of raising him to your own level, but do not think of entering into mental communion with such before making it worthy of it.”

This luminous sentence may serve as a commentary on Yoritomo's entire teaching, for every line of his writings is an appeal to energy, an invitation to the practice of the cult of moral beauty, and an encouragement to that advance toward the Better, which should guide our steps toward the enchanted temple on the facade of which are emblazoned these eternal words: Truth, Coverage, and Cheerfulness.