BY THE PRESTIGE GAINED FROM CONCENTRATION LESSON X

Concentration is one of the most marvelous forces that can be conceived. Without concentration, no success is possible; if it is present, we must consider it as the work of chance, not reckon too much on its duration, and remember that the popular proverb which says:

"He who comes to the sound of the flute goes back to the sound of the drum.”

In other words, what a chance circumstance has brought may depart on the wings of an unforeseen happening. Far different is the success which we acquire by reason, that having sought it and willed it with all our powers, we have strained every effort to evoke it and no longer hug it to ourselves for fear or that it should leave us.

Fidelity to an idea is always the initial step to all successes. For if an idea has no time to become at home with us, if what is rightly called the crystallization of thought does not form the foundation of every decision, we shall find it impossible to give it definite shape, and it will fade away like impalpable smoke.

If, on the other hand, we know how to exercise concentration, this idea will soon become a focus of organization around which the association of ideas will come to marshal the reasons that determined the action, which we have in mind.

"Thoughts are things," said Prentice Mulford. Without wishing to follow him in his abstruse explanation of the statement, it is easy to imagine how true the saying is, seeing that in thinking deeply on a subject we succeed in picturing it to ourselves in an almost tangible fashion.”

"There is no doubt," said Yoritomo, "that concentration develops all our senses and brings them to a degree of remarkable acuteness.”

"It stands to us in the stead of knowledge, for by its means we acquire the facility, that is to say the gift, of realizing readily and easily the things of which we have formed a conception. There is no work, even manual, that concentration does not lighten for us.”

"If a man has to lift a heavy mass, do you think that he will do it as well if he is occupied with some other thought as if he said simply and solely: ' I wish to lift this mass. '

“Then his nerves are at tension, all his faculties bend themselves to the act with a force necessary to perform it; his brain strives after the means to assist the physical effort, for the muscles are the slaves of the will; he, therefore, who succeeds in concentrating himself on a manual labor is certain to perform it with a minimum of fatigue, for he will be able to husband his strength, he will save himself from dissipating them in useless exertions, and he will concentrate all his faculties of attention, of calculation, of ingenuity, and of muscular power in order to succeed.”

"This is how so many jugglers achieve perfection in their art; by concentration they have reached such a point of self absorption therefore them nothing exists outside their own particular performance.”

"But if one day they, in a fit of passion, allow their thoughts to wander toward the object of their anger or of their love, they find that they are no longer themselves; their actions become less sure, the make bungles and end by being unable to regain their nerve, except with a violent effort that drives away the fancy and allows them to recall their thoughts to the one point where they should keep them.”

"To think of the act which we are performing, to think of it alone, to concentrate everything and forget everything outside of it, there is the secret of so many successes, the explanation of so many good fortunes, that also of the immense influence which certain men exert over their fellows.”

"We must," said the Shogun, "be able to concentrate ourselves on one act at a time and to force our attention to the fullest degree to the manner in which we can attract others to imitate us. We are the shapers of our destiny, and we should aspire to become those of the destiny of others.”

"To gain this end, nothing should appear insignificant to us, and if we think sensibly we shall see that everyone of our acts, however commonplace it may seem to us, is, if it is performed with the desire of good, a step toward a realization, sometimes imposing the fate of which, however, depends on a series of similar acts, equally paltry taken separately, but the essential for the adequacy of one of them might mar the perfection of the whole, if not jeopardize success altogether.”

And in his flowery language the shogun adds:

"What is one link more or less in the chain several meters long?So trifling a thing that its absence would not be noticed. Nevertheless, if this link is badly riveted, this insignificant detail will suffice to break the chain.”

“Every work is made up of a chain of acts more or less infinitesimal; the perfection of each of them contributes to that of the whole and sometimes suffices or a slight slackness in the performance of one of these acts to jeopardize the success of the undertaking.”

In fact, which of us has not had to regret negligence, which has come to hinder the success of a project?

In our age of electricity and of strenuous life, these remarks are still more true been they would be at any other time. Does it not happen every day they missed train causes us the loss of the benefit of some business, which because of the delay escapes us?

Now, if we wish to be perfectly sincere with ourselves, we shall admit that on most occasions this delay is to only to our own carelessness; we were too late for meals, or we wasted time on talk, which would have been quite easy for us to curtail.

All the trouble arose from want of concentration, which allowed us to lose sight of the one thing that should have been for us of the utmost importance. If we will reflect well on it, we shall see them most of our troubles can be set down to carelessness. Take, if you wish, the case, which we have just mentioned: A missed train prevents the settlement of the important business.

Thoughtless people will get out of this by saying: "I have not had a chance"; others those who thoughts are directed by a mastermind, which is an adept at concentration, will recollect themselves, will mentally review all the passing events of the day, and will thereby conclude that they are responsible for that happening so deplorable for their interests.

What can or should they do? Simply devote themselves to one of the exercises most recommended by thinkers; concentrate their faculties on the principal act of the day which was the settlement of the business which called them out, and, once well persuaded of its importance, suit all their acts to it.

They would thus have avoided losing a few minutes or the hour which caused them to fail, for, filled with their determination, they would have cut short any business that it was not indispensable to conclude, or cut off some moments from talk the continuance of which was less important for them than the journey which they had to make.

"Each day," said Yoritomo, "brings with it a round of duties of unequal importance; we must know how to distinguish that which should take precedence, and subordinate to it our mode of life for that day.”

"Everything that we do should bear a relation to it; even if certain things should seem mutually exclusive, we must avoid them, inasmuch as they form part of the whole of those things which go to make up realization. By being willing to sacrifice nothing we succeed too often in accomplishing nothing.”

“We know the story of the man who one day found two robbers in his garden and set out to pursue them. He ran after them at first for a time, then at a fork in the road one of the two turned off to the right, while the other pursued his way. The man, undecided for a moment, rushed down the byroad, saying to himself that he would catch more easily the one that took the hard road, but after a time, out of breath he perceived that he was not as quick as the robber, and bethought himself that the other was bigger and stouter and on that account easier to overtake.”

"He, therefore, retraced his steps and rushed along the main road; but the man whom he was pursuing had had the time, in spite of his want of agility, to gain ground, and the pursuer puffed and blew in vain. He soon had the mortifications of seeing him disappear, and his neighbors made fun of him.”

How many times do we act likewise, without perceiving it, when we pursue two different ends and give them up, first one, of then the other, according to the inclination of our idleness or of our whims?

This fault to will never be committed by those who practice concentration. They will never risk making themselves a laughingstock like the men of whom Yoritomo speaks, for they will set out in pursuit of an undertaking only after reflecting deeply on the possibilities of success, and they will take every precaution against giving it up before they have brought it to a successful issue.

They who would be adequately prepared for this kind of reflection ought to bring themselves to it by the habitual contemplation of a thought. It is well to maintain the attention on the alert, and to keep oneself from every distraction by the repetition of one or several sayings the bearing a relation to this thought, giving it concrete and definite form and persuading us of the necessity of concentration.

Other methods also are employed with success; they've make up those exercises, which should be practiced by all those who wish to acquire any science, whatever it may be. Of these methods, several were already known in the time of Yoritomo, and it is she who recommends us that called "of the collar":

"Have," said he, "a collar containing about 200 beads of jade or of any other stone, if your means do not allow you to make use of jewels; take care to string them not too close together in order to be able to take them off easily and make them slide slowly one over the other, counting ten between each bead.”

"Your mind during this time should be occupied with only one thing: to allow between the beads the same space of time, that is to say, not to say the numbers too fast or too slowly, and to it in such a way, all the time that this exercise lasts, as to think thus regularly of nothing but GOOD.”

"When you find it impossible to keep up your thought, revive it as soon as you can and begin again. At first, it will be well not to extend the experiment farther than five or six beads. Afterward you can increase it, and some thinkers are mentioned who had such a mastery over their imagination that they went right to the end of the beads without slackening.”

With the same collar the Shogun shows us yet another exercise.

"You will take off,” said he, "a handful of the beads (without counting them), in such a way that you are ignorant of the exact number, and, having fastened the collar together again, letting the place of joining be in sight, which will serve as a starting point, you will count aloud each bead that you take off with your fingertip.”

"That done, you will begin again three times; if you find the same number each time it means that your power of concentration has been sufficient to keep your attention without letting it wander.”

"Where you find a different number, you should begin again until you obtain the same result three times a succession.”

We might smile at the simplicity of these methods, nevertheless those who are devoted adepts in concentration know how difficult these results are to realize, if they wish to be sincere with themselves; before obtaining the same count of beads three times, they must often begin the experiment over again twenty times, for thought escapes easily when one can no longer keep it in subjection.

The Shogun recommends us yet other exercises:

"Sit down," said he, "comfortably on a seat soft enough to prevent your feeling any discomfort; this is very essential, for the least physical discomfort distracts the attention by directing it is to the feeling of uneasiness which you experience.”

"That done you will rest your hands on your breast, the palms well open, the fingers spread out.”

“The left hand will be placed near the girdle and the other near the throat; you will slowly pass the left hand down to the waist while you will slowly pass the left-handed down to the waist while you lift the other as far as the neck, taking great care, when the two hands meet, to touch lightly the tip of the middle finger of the left hand with the tip of the middle finger of the right hand.”

"During the few minutes that this exercise lasts, you will do it in such a way as to think of nothing except the care of letting the fingers touch one another toward the middle of the breast, and in consequence of accelerating for retarding the movement in order to arrive at this result.”

"During all this time force yourself to think of nothing else.”

This is what our modern philosophers recommend us to the name of "de-vitalization.”De-vitalization is the act of shutting oneself out from external impressions and moral sensations; if it is a kind of arrest of thought, or rather of rupture of thought, which one concentrates on something so plainly commonplace that it gives birth to a sensible rest for us.

This is the first step that leads to one of the most satisfactory forms of concentration: isolation. Without isolation, no meditation is possible, and consequently there is great difficulty in concentration. Now we have just seen what part this faculty plays in training the mind. It is that which allows us to rally our scattered physical powers and to unite them on the same point, localizing them alone on the phases of the subject that engages our attention.

Atkinson recommends us to devote ourselves to the study of any object whatsoever and to force ourselves to limit the effort of our thoughts to that object alone. But this meditation may form the excuse for many mental vagaries. He advises us to take a piece of paper and to concentrate our attention solely on the thought of this scrap; but is not this on the other hand a dangerous excuse for fancy to come into play?

Contemplate it: this piece of paper once formed part of some material. What material?Was it the white muslin of bridal veils? Was it, on the other hand, the flimsy fabric in which a courtesan arrays herself? Whose hands tore it? In what religious processions or in what wretched dens was it used?

Later, by what changes did it come to this condition of a scrap of paper?The imagination takes fire afresh. We conjure up the atmosphere of a factory, we think of the processes of manufacture, etc. You see that we are already far removed from concentration. Doubtless, Yoritomo also believes this when he says:

"If you wish to devote yourself sincerely to the practice of concentration, guard yourself against allowing your thoughts to wander from the corolla to the stalk of the flower.”

This means the one object alone, and that strictly limited, should engage our attention if we wish to succeed in controlling our attention to the point at which it responds to our first call like an obedient servant. Many featherbrained people think it a good excuse when they say:

"It is not my fault, I forgot.”

Not suspecting that forgetfulness is itself the fault with which they do not wish to be charged. It is an excuse glibly assigned by those whose moral infirmity is so evident that they are unable on their own accounts to make any effort worth the while. It is the excuse of the weak and of people lacking courage. It is a certificate of physical incapacity awarded to those who have not in them the energy to practice self-recollection.

Meditation, which is closely allied to concentration, is the state of inward contemplation, which allows us to shut ourselves in from external things so as to engage our thoughts solely on the subject, which we have set before ourselves. The difference between meditation and concentration lies in the greater freedom allowed to thought in the former state.

"Meditation," said Yoritomo, "is like a target of which concentration is the bull's-eye. Every arrow which hits the target has certainly attained its end, but those which quiver at its center are the only ones which, in case of defense, would have sufficed to make our enemy bite the dust.”

And he adds:

"Meditation is valuable above all because it is a rest; it is a kind of mental anesthesia which allow for us to have faith in our liberty of thought, even when, nevertheless, we still confine it but less closely than in concentration.

“We could not devote ourselves to a fruitful meditation without being prepared for it by self-absorption. We must then allow ourselves to be slowly permeated by the idea which we wish to fathom and all the influences of which we wish to receive its.”

"But we ought to fear one redoubtable enemy - distraction. Nothing is more difficult for those who do not habitually practice this lesson than to meditate successfully, without letting the thoughts wander after ideas which are connected with one another but which end, by reason of their number and diversity, by being completely removed from the initial point.”

In fact, we have all experienced the impression of which the Shogun speaks; it has happened to all of us, after long periods of reflection, to find ourselves a hundred leagues from the subject which we desired to conjure up, and when we wish to take account of the road traversed we find ourselves altogether amazed at the imperceptible concatenation of thoughts, which, without seeming to be foreign to the subject of our meditation, have drawn us in the direction of ideas completely dissimilar.

This is one of the familiar phases of distraction, the foe of concentration. This is why Yoritomo puts us on our guard against meditation, of which the dreaming is, he says, the mischievous sister.

"Let us beware," says he, "of allowing ourselves to give way to daydreaming, for thus we should contract the undesirable habit of allowing our attention to drowse; daydreaming is a woof on which fancy embroiders shapeless flowers, it scatters them without method or system at its own sweet will; these flowers are unreal and their colors soon fade.

“Daydreaming is a dissipation of energy, it carries us away and we cannot direct it. For this reason it is particularly dangerous, for it destroys our psychic forces and injures the development of strong mental powers.”

It was with this in view, it is said, that about the twelfth century St. Dominic invented the rosary. He thought, like our Japanese philosopher, that meditation is so close akin to daydreaming that one should seek to control it by removing the temptations arising from the volatility of the imagination by means of a physical rallying of the idea.

The telling of the beads has no other object; all the decades and it a different prayer from the ten preceding it and, granting that the attention has wandered during the repetition of the ten "Hail Marys," the eleventh bead, separate from the others and appreciatively larger, comes to remind us of the change of the formula and brings back the most wandering minds to the subject of the meditation.

In short, such a director of souls as the Castilian friar knew well that daydreaming always possesses a pernicious charm, which it is well to nip in the bud.

A great thinker, nearer to our times, Condillac, says further:

"Attention is like a light which is reflected from one body onto another, in order to illuminate both of them, and I call it reflection. . . Sensible ideas represent to us the objects which actually impress themselves on our senses; intellectual ideas represent to us those which disappear after making their impression. . .”

He also says:

"Intellectual ideas, if they are familiar to us, recur to us at will.”

This was also the teaching of Yoritomo who writes:

"It suffices for those who practice concentration to will for the objects on which they wish to meditate to be recalled clearly before their eyes.”

“Adepts in this art can, with very little effort and after placing themselves in a condition of self-absorption, transport themselves in imagination to the sphere where the phases of the occurrence which forms the subject of their thoughts unfold themselves before them.”

"They will succeed in picturing to themselves places and persons in living movement, in so realistic a manner that they will even be sensible to the odors or the climate of the place that witnesses these happenings.”

"What marvel that, finding themselves in this mental condition, it is easy for them to decide on sound resolutions and to thrust aside attempts to counsel for them the less studied decision?"

And he concludes:

"He who would influence others should applaud all things know how to influence himself in order to acquire the faculty of self-concentration which will allow of his reaching the highest degree of discernment.”

“Many soothsayers have owed their influence over the multitude only to that spirit of concentration that passed for prophecies.”

“It is wrong and delusive to give credence to magic which is trickery, but we bear within us a power equal to that of the sorcerers whose deeds are related; this is the magic of the influence which the prudent and self-possessed man always exercises over his fellows, when his intentions are pure and when his ideal is nothing else than the amelioration of the condition of others, by the wholesome influence of his example and his discourse.”