In fact, Unamuno, as a true Spaniard which he is, refuses to surrender life to ideas, and that is why he runs shy of abstractions, in which he sees but shrouds wherewith we cover dead thoughts.  He is solely concerned with his own life, nothing but his life, and the whole of his life.  An egotistical position?  Perhaps.  Unamuno, however, can and does answer the charge.  We can only know and feel humanity in the one human being which we have at hand.  It is by penetrating deep into ourselves that we find our brothers in us—­branches of the same trunk which can only touch each other by seeking their common origin.  This searching within, Unamuno has undertaken with a sincerity, a fearlessness which cannot be excelled.  Nowhere will the reader find the inner contradictions of a modern human being, who is at the same time healthy and capable of thought set down with a greater respect for truth.  Here the uncompromising tendency of the Spanish race, whose eyes never turn away from nature, however unwelcome the sight, is strengthened by that passion for life which burns in Unamuno.  The suppression of the slightest thought or feeling for the sake of intellectual order would appear to him as a despicable worldly trick.  Thus it is precisely because he does sincerely feel a passionate love of his own life that he thinks out with such scrupulous accuracy every argument which he finds in his mind—­his own mind, a part of his life—­against the possibility of life after death; but it is also because he feels that, despite such conclusive arguments, his will to live perseveres, that he refuses to his intellect the power to kill his faith.  A knight-errant of the spirit, as he himself calls the Spanish mystics, he starts for his adventures after having, like Hernan Cortes, burnt his ships.  But, is it necessary to enhance his figure by literary comparison?  He is what he wants to be, a man—­in the striking expression which he chose as a title for one of his short stories, nothing less than a whole man.  Not a mere thinking machine, set to prove a theory, nor an actor on the world stage, singing a well-built poem, well built at the price of many a compromise; but a whole man, with all his affirmations and all his negations, all the pitiless thoughts of a penetrating mind that denies, and all the desperate self-assertions of a soul that yearns for eternal life.

This strife between enemy truths, the truth thought and the truth felt, or, as he himself puts it, between veracity and sincerity, is Unamuno’s raison d’etre.  And it is because the “Tragic Sense of Life” is the most direct expression of it that this book is his masterpiece.  The conflict is here seen as reflected in the person of the author.  The book opens by a definition of the Spanish man, the “man of flesh and bones,” illustrated by the consideration of the real living men who stood behind the bookish figures of great philosophers and consciously or unconsciously shaped