Some, then, may turn to Zen as a purer Quakerism. Others will be attracted to it by the resemblance of its doctrines to the hypotheses of recent psychology. The Buddha consciousness of Zen exactly corresponds to the Universal Consciousness which, according to certain modern investigators, lies hid beneath the personal Consciousness. Such converts will probably use a kind of applied Zen, much as the Japanese have done; that is to say, they will not seek to spend their days in complete Samādhi, but will dive occasionally, for rest or encouragement, into the deeper recesses of the soul. It is not likely that they will rest content with the traditional Eastern methods of self-hypnosis. If certain states of consciousness are indeed more valuable than those with which we are familiar in ordinary life--then we must seek them unflinchingly by whatever means we can devise. I can imagine a kind of dentist’s chair fitted with revolving mirrors, flashing lights, sulphurous haloes expanding and contracting--in short a mechanism that by the pressure of a single knob should whirl a dustman into Nirvāna. Whether such states of mind are actually more valuable than our ordinary consciousness is difficult to determine. Certainly no one has much right to an opinion who has not experienced them. But something akin to Samādhi--a sudden feeling of contact with a unity more real than the apparent complexity of things--is probably not an uncommon experience. The athlete, the creative artist, the lover, the philosopher--all, I fancy, get a share of it, not when seeking to escape from the visible world; but rather just when that world was seeming to them most sublimely real. To seek by contemplation of the navel or of the tip of the nose a repetition of spiritual experiences such as these seems to us inane; and indeed the negative trance of Zen is very different from the positive ecstasies to which I have just referred. I say that it is different; but how do I know? “Zen,” said Bodhidharma, “cannot be described in words nor chronicled in books”; and I have no other experience of Zen. If I _knew_, I might transmit to you my knowledge, but it would have to be by a direct spiritual communication, symbolised only by a smile, a gesture, or the plucking of a flower. I need not therefore apologise for having given a purely external and historical account of Zen, a creed whose inner mysteries are admittedly beyond the scope of words. APPENDIX I. Reproductions of Zen Paintings in Japanese art publications. (The _Kokka_ and the other publications here referred to may be seen at the Art Library, Victoria and Albert Museum; and at the Print Room of the British Museum.) MOKKEI--_Kokka._ 37, 112, 122, 177, 185, 238, 242, 265, 268, 291, 293, 314. RASŌ.--_Shimbi Taikwan_ XX. MOKUAN.--(Mokkei II).--_Kokka_ 295, _Shimbi Taikwan_ Vol. IX. (Nos. 21 and 22 in the collection of Chinese Paintings at the British Museum are probably by Mokuan.)