O.M. A man’s mind, left free, has no use
for his help. But there is one way whereby he
can get its help when he desires it.
Y.M. What is that way?
O.M. When your mind is racing along from subject
to subject and strikes an inspiring one, open your
mouth and begin talking upon that matter—or—take
your pen and use that. It will interest your
mind and concentrate it, and it will pursue the subject
with satisfaction. It will take full charge,
and furnish the words itself.
Y.M. But don’t I tell it what to say?
O.M. There are certainly occasions when you
haven’t time. The words leap out before
you know what is coming.
Y.M. For instance?
O.M. Well, take a “flash of wit”—repartee.
Flash is the right word. It is out instantly.
There is no time to arrange the words. There
is no thinking, no reflecting. Where there is
a wit-mechanism it is automatic in its action and
needs no help. Where the wit-mechanism is lacking,
no amount of study and reflection can manufacture
the product.
Y.M. You really think a man originates nothing,
creates nothing.
O.M. I do. Men perceive, and their brain-machines
automatically combine the things perceived.
That is all.
Y.M. The steam-engine?
O.M. It takes fifty men a hundred years to invent
it. One meaning of invent is discover.
I use the word in that sense. Little by little
they discover and apply the multitude of details that
go to make the perfect engine. Watt noticed
that confined steam was strong enough to lift the
lid of the teapot. He didn’t create the
idea, he merely discovered the fact; the cat had noticed
it a hundred times. From the teapot he evolved
the cylinder—from the displaced lid he evolved
the piston-rod. To attach something to the piston-rod
to be moved by it, was a simple matter—crank
and wheel. And so there was a working engine.
[1]
One by one, improvements were discovered by men who
used their eyes, not their creating powers—for
they hadn’t any—and now, after a hundred
years the patient contributions of fifty or a hundred
observers stand compacted in the wonderful machine
which drives the ocean liner.
Y.M. A Shakespearean play?
O.M. The process is the same. The first
actor was a savage. He reproduced in his theatrical
war-dances, scalp-dances, and so on, incidents which
he had seen in real life. A more advanced civilization
produced more incidents, more episodes; the actor and
the story-teller borrowed them. And so the drama
grew, little by little, stage by stage. It is
made up of the facts of life, not creations.
It took centuries to develop the Greek drama.
It borrowed from preceding ages; it lent to the ages
that came after. Men observe and combine, that
is all. So does a rat.
Y.M. How?
