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diff --git a/12811-0.txt b/12811-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d6e9b70 --- /dev/null +++ b/12811-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2166 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12811 *** + +THE HUMAN MACHINE + +BY ARNOLD BENNETT + +_First Published November 1908 + +Second Edition September 1910 + +Third Edition April 1911 + +Fourth Edition August 1912 + +Fifth Edition January 1913 + +Sixth Edition August 1913_ + + + + +CONTENTS + +I + +TAKING ONESELF FOR GRANTED + +II + +AMATEURS IN THE ART OF LIVING + +III + +THE BRAIN AS A GENTLEMAN-AT-LARGE + +IV + +THE FIRST PRACTICAL STEP + +V + +HABIT-FORMING BY CONCENTRATION + +VI + +LORD OVER THE NODDLE + +VII + +WHAT 'LIVING' CHIEFLY IS + +VIII + +THE DAILY FRICTION + +IX + +'FIRE!' + +X + +MISCHIEVOUSLY OVERWORKING IT + +XI + +AN INTERLUDE + +XII + +AN INTEREST IN LIFE + +XIII + +SUCCESS AND FAILURE + +XIV + +A MAN AND HIS ENVIRONMENT + +XV + +L.S.D. + +XVI + +REASON, REASON! + + + + +I + +TAKING ONESELF FOR GRANTED + + +There are men who are capable of loving a machine more deeply than they +can love a woman. They are among the happiest men on earth. This is not +a sneer meanly shot from cover at women. It is simply a statement of +notorious fact. Men who worry themselves to distraction over the +perfecting of a machine are indubitably blessed beyond their kind. Most +of us have known such men. Yesterday they were constructing motorcars. +But to-day aeroplanes are in the air--or, at any rate, they ought to be, +according to the inventors. Watch the inventors. Invention is not +usually their principal business. They must invent in their spare time. +They must invent before breakfast, invent in the Strand between Lyons's +and the office, invent after dinner, invent on Sundays. See with what +ardour they rush home of a night! See how they seize a half-holiday, +like hungry dogs a bone! They don't want golf, bridge, limericks, +novels, illustrated magazines, clubs, whisky, starting-prices, hints +about neckties, political meetings, yarns, comic songs, anturic salts, +nor the smiles that are situate between a gay corsage and a picture hat. +They never wonder, at a loss, what they will do next. Their evenings +never drag--are always too short. You may, indeed, catch them at twelve +o'clock at night on the flat of their backs; but not in bed! No, in a +shed, under a machine, holding a candle (whose paths drop fatness) up to +the connecting-rod that is strained, or the wheel that is out of centre. +They are continually interested, nay, enthralled. They have a machine, +and they are perfecting it. They get one part right, and then another +goes wrong; and they get that right, and then another goes wrong, and so +on. When they are quite sure they have reached perfection, forth issues +the machine out of the shed--and in five minutes is smashed up, together +with a limb or so of the inventors, just because they had been quite +sure too soon. Then the whole business starts again. They do not give +up--that particular wreck was, of course, due to a mere oversight; the +whole business starts again. For they have glimpsed perfection; they +have the gleam of perfection in their souls. Thus their lives run away. +'They will never fly!' you remark, cynically. Well, if they don't? +Besides, what about Wright? With all your cynicism, have you never +envied them their machine and their passionate interest in it? + +You know, perhaps, the moment when, brushing in front of the glass, you +detected your first grey hair. You stopped brushing; then you resumed +brushing, hastily; you pretended not to be shocked, but you were. +Perhaps you know a more disturbing moment than that, the moment when it +suddenly occurred to you that you had 'arrived' as far as you ever will +arrive; and you had realised as much of your early dream as you ever +will realise, and the realisation was utterly unlike the dream; the +marriage was excessively prosaic and eternal, not at all what you +expected it to be; and your illusions were dissipated; and games and +hobbies had an unpleasant core of tedium and futility; and the ideal +tobacco-mixture did not exist; and one literary masterpiece resembled +another; and all the days that are to come will more or less resemble +the present day, until you die; and in an illuminating flash you +understood what all those people were driving at when they wrote such +unconscionably long letters to the _Telegraph_ as to life being worth +living or not worth living; and there was naught to be done but face the +grey, monotonous future, and pretend to be cheerful with the worm of +_ennui_ gnawing at your heart! In a word, the moment when it occurred to +you that yours is 'the common lot.' In that moment have you not +wished--do you not continually wish--for an exhaustless machine, a +machine that you could never get to the end of? Would you not give your +head to be lying on the flat of your back, peering with a candle, dirty, +foiled, catching cold--but absorbed in the pursuit of an object? Have +you not gloomily regretted that you were born without a mechanical turn, +because there is really something about a machine...? + +It has never struck you that you do possess a machine! Oh, blind! Oh, +dull! It has never struck you that you have at hand a machine wonderful +beyond all mechanisms in sheds, intricate, delicately adjustable, of +astounding and miraculous possibilities, interminably interesting! That +machine is yourself. 'This fellow is preaching. I won't have it!' you +exclaim resentfully. Dear sir, I am not preaching, and, even if I were, +I think you _would_ have it. I think I can anyhow keep hold of your +button for a while, though you pull hard. I am not preaching. I am +simply bent on calling your attention to a fact which has perhaps wholly +or partially escaped you--namely, that you are the most fascinating bit +of machinery that ever was. You do yourself less than justice. It is +said that men are only interested in themselves. The truth is that, as a +rule, men are interested in every mortal thing except themselves. They +have a habit of taking themselves for granted, and that habit is +responsible for nine-tenths of the boredom and despair on the face of +the planet. + +A man will wake up in the middle of the night (usually owing to some +form of delightful excess), and his brain will be very active indeed for +a space ere he can go to sleep again. In that candid hour, after the +exaltation of the evening and before the hope of the dawn, he will see +everything in its true colours--except himself. There is nothing like a +sleepless couch for a clear vision of one's environment. He will see all +his wife's faults and the hopelessness of trying to cure them. He will +momentarily see, though with less sharpness of outline, his own faults. +He will probably decide that the anxieties of children outweigh the joys +connected with children. He will admit all the shortcomings of +existence, will face them like a man, grimly, sourly, in a sturdy +despair. He will mutter: 'Of course I'm angry! Who wouldn't be? Of +course I'm disappointed! Did I expect this twenty years ago? Yes, we +ought to save more. But we don't, so there you are! I'm bound to worry! +I know I should be better if I didn't smoke so much. I know there's +absolutely no sense at all in taking liqueurs. Absurd to be ruffled with +her when she's in one of her moods. I don't have enough exercise. Can't +be regular, somehow. Not the slightest use hoping that things will be +different, because I know they won't. Queer world! Never really what you +may call happy, you know. Now, if things were different ...' He loses +consciousness. + +Observe: he has taken himself for granted, just glancing at his faults +and looking away again. It is his environment that has occupied his +attention, and his environment--'things'--that he would wish to have +'different,' did he not know, out of the fulness of experience, that it +is futile to desire such a change? What he wants is a pipe that won't +put itself into his mouth, a glass that won't leap of its own accord to +his lips, money that won't slip untouched out of his pocket, legs that +without asking will carry him certain miles every day in the open air, +habits that practise themselves, a wife that will expand and contract +according to his humours, like a Wernicke bookcase, always complete but +never finished. Wise man, he perceives at once that he can't have these +things. And so he resigns himself to the universe, and settles down to a +permanent, restrained discontent. No one shall say he is unreasonable. + +You see, he has given no attention to the machine. Let us not call it a +flying-machine. Let us call it simply an automobile. There it is on the +road, jolting, screeching, rattling, perfuming. And there he is, saying: +'This road ought to be as smooth as velvet. That hill in front is +ridiculous, and the descent on the other side positively dangerous. And +it's all turns--I can't see a hundred yards in front.' He has a wild +idea of trying to force the County Council to sand-paper the road, or of +employing the new Territorial Army to remove the hill. But he dismisses +that idea--he is so reasonable. He accepts all. He sits clothed in +reasonableness on the machine, and accepts all. 'Ass!' you exclaim. 'Why +doesn't he get down and inflate that tyre, for one thing? Anyone can see +the sparking apparatus is wrong, and it's perfectly certain the gear-box +wants oil. + +Why doesn't he--?' I will tell you why he doesn't. Just because he isn't +aware that he is on a machine at all. He has never examined what he is +on. And at the back of his consciousness is a dim idea that he is +perched on a piece of solid, immutable rock that runs on castors. + + + + +II + +AMATEURS IN THE ART OF LIVING + + +Considering that we have to spend the whole of our lives in this human +machine, considering that it is our sole means of contact and compromise +with the rest of the world, we really do devote to it very little +attention. When I say 'we,' I mean our inmost spirits, the instinctive +part, the mystery within that exists. And when I say 'the human machine' +I mean the brain and the body--and chiefly the brain. The expression of +the soul by means of the brain and body is what we call the art of +'living.' We certainly do not learn this art at school to any +appreciable extent. At school we are taught that it is necessary to +fling our arms and legs to and fro for so many hours per diem. We are +also shown, practically, that our brains are capable of performing +certain useful tricks, and that if we do not compel our brains to +perform those tricks we shall suffer. Thus one day we run home and +proclaim to our delighted parents that eleven twelves are 132. A feat of +the brain! So it goes on until our parents begin to look up to us +because we can chatter of cosines or sketch the foreign policy of Louis +XIV. Good! But not a word about the principles of the art of living yet! +Only a few detached rules from our parents, to be blindly followed when +particular crises supervene. And, indeed, it would be absurd to talk to +a schoolboy about the expression of his soul. He would probably mutter a +monosyllable which is not 'mice.' + +Of course, school is merely a preparation for living; unless one goes to +a university, in which case it is a preparation for university. One is +supposed to turn one's attention to living when these preliminaries are +over--say at the age of about twenty. Assuredly one lives then; there +is, however, nothing new in that, for one has been living all the time, +in a fashion; all the time one has been using the machine without +understanding it. But does one, school and college being over, enter +upon a study of the machine? Not a bit. The question then becomes, not +how to live, but how to obtain and retain a position in which one will +be able to live; how to get minute portions of dead animals and plants +which one can swallow, in order not to die of hunger; how to acquire and +constantly renew a stock of other portions of dead animals and plants in +which one can envelop oneself in order not to die of cold; how to +procure the exclusive right of entry into certain huts where one may +sleep and eat without being rained upon by the clouds of heaven. And so +forth. And when one has realised this ambition, there comes the desire +to be able to double the operation and do it, not for oneself alone, but +for oneself and another. Marriage! But no scientific sustained attention +is yet given to the real business of living, of smooth intercourse, of +self-expression, of conscious adaptation to environment--in brief, to +the study of the machine. At thirty the chances are that a man will +understand better the draught of a chimney than his own respiratory +apparatus--to name one of the simple, obvious things--and as for +understanding the working of his own brain--what an idea! As for the +skill to avoid the waste of power involved by friction in the business +of living, do we give an hour to it in a month? Do we ever at all +examine it save in an amateurish and clumsy fashion? A young lady +produces a water-colour drawing. 'Very nice!' we say, and add, to +ourselves, 'For an amateur.' But our living is more amateurish than that +young lady's drawing; though surely we ought every one of us to be +professionals at living! + +When we have been engaged in the preliminaries to living for about +fifty-five years, we begin to think about slacking off. Up till this +period our reason for not having scientifically studied the art of +living--the perfecting and use of the finer parts of the machine--is not +that we have lacked leisure (most of us have enormous heaps of leisure), +but that we have simply been too absorbed in the preliminaries, have, in +fact, treated the preliminaries to the business as the business itself. +Then at fifty-five we ought at last to begin to live our lives with +professional skill, as a professional painter paints pictures. Yes, but +we can't. It is too late then. Neither painters, nor acrobats, nor any +professionals can be formed at the age of fifty-five. Thus we finish +our lives amateurishly, as we have begun them. And when the machine +creaks and sets our teeth on edge, or refuses to obey the steering-wheel +and deposits us in the ditch, we say: 'Can't be helped!' or 'Doesn't +matter! It will be all the same a hundred years hence!' or: 'I must make +the best of things.' And we try to believe that in accepting the _status +quo_ we have justified the _status quo_, and all the time we feel our +insincerity. + +You exclaim that I exaggerate. I do. To force into prominence an aspect +of affairs usually overlooked, it is absolutely necessary to exaggerate. +Poetic licence is one name for this kind of exaggeration. But I +exaggerate very little indeed, much less than perhaps you think. I know +that you are going to point out to me that vast numbers of people +regularly spend a considerable portion of their leisure in striving +after self-improvement. Granted! And I am glad of it. But I should be +gladder if their strivings bore more closely upon the daily business of +living, of self-expression without friction and without futile desires. +See this man who regularly studies every evening of his life! He has +genuinely understood the nature of poetry, and his taste is admirable. +He recites verse with true feeling, and may be said to be highly +cultivated. Poetry is a continual source of pleasure to him. True! But +why is he always complaining about not receiving his deserts in the +office? Why is he worried about finance? Why does he so often sulk with +his wife? Why does he persist in eating more than his digestion will +tolerate? It was not written in the book of fate that he should complain +and worry and sulk and suffer. And if he was a professional at living he +would not do these things. There is no reason why he should do them, +except the reason that he has never learnt his business, never studied +the human machine as a whole, never really thought rationally about +living. Supposing you encountered an automobilist who was swerving and +grinding all over the road, and you stopped to ask what was the matter, +and he replied: 'Never mind what's the matter. Just look at my lovely +acetylene lamps, how they shine, and how I've polished them!' You would +not regard him as a Clifford-Earp, or even as an entirely sane man. So +with our student of poetry. It is indubitable that a large amount of +what is known as self-improvement is simply self-indulgence--a form of +pleasure which only incidentally improves a particular part of the +machine, and even that to the neglect of far more important parts. + +My aim is to direct a man's attention to himself as a whole, considered +as a machine, complex and capable of quite extraordinary efficiency, +for travelling through this world smoothly, in any desired manner, with +satisfaction not only to himself but to the people he meets _en route_, +and the people who are overtaking him and whom he is overtaking. My aim +is to show that only an inappreciable fraction of our ordered and +sustained efforts is given to the business of actual living, as +distinguished from the preliminaries to living. + + + + +III + +THE BRAIN AS A GENTLEMAN-AT-LARGE + + +It is not as if, in this business of daily living, we were seriously +hampered by ignorance either as to the results which we ought to obtain, +or as to the general means which we must employ in order to obtain them. +With all our absorption in the mere preliminaries to living, and all our +carelessness about living itself, we arrive pretty soon at a fairly +accurate notion of what satisfactory living is, and we perceive with +some clearness the methods necessary to success. I have pictured the man +who wakes up in the middle of the night and sees the horrid semi-fiasco +of his life. But let me picture the man who wakes up refreshed early on +a fine summer morning and looks into his mind with the eyes of hope and +experience, not experience and despair. That man will pass a delightful +half-hour in thinking upon the scheme of the universe as it affects +himself. He is quite clear that contentment depends on his own acts, and +that no power can prevent him from performing those acts. He plans +everything out, and before he gets up he knows precisely what he must +and will do in certain foreseen crises and junctures. He sincerely +desires to live efficiently--who would wish to make a daily mess of +existence?--and he knows the way to realise the desire. + +And yet, mark me! That man will not have been an hour on his feet on +this difficult earth before the machine has unmistakably gone wrong: the +machine which was designed to do this work of living, which is capable +of doing it thoroughly well, but which has not been put into order! +What is the use of consulting the map of life and tracing the itinerary, +and getting the machine out of the shed, and making a start, if half the +nuts are loose, or the steering pillar is twisted, or there is no petrol +in the tank? (Having asked this question, I will drop the +mechanico-vehicular comparison, which is too rough and crude for the +delicacy of the subject.) Where has the human machine gone wrong? It has +gone wrong in the brain. What, is he 'wrong in the head'? Most +assuredly, most strictly. He knows--none better--that when his wife +employs a particular tone containing ten grains of asperity, and he +replies in a particular tone containing eleven grains, the consequences +will be explosive. He knows, on the other hand, that if he replies in a +tone containing only one little drop of honey, the consequences may not +be unworthy of two reasonable beings. He knows this. His brain is fully +instructed. And lo! his brain, while arguing that women are really too +absurd (as if that was the point), is sending down orders to the muscles +of the throat and mouth which result in at least eleven grains of +asperity, and conjugal relations are endangered for the day. He didn't +want to do it. His desire was not to do it. He despises himself for +doing it. But his brain was not in working order. His brain ran +away--'raced'--on its own account, against reason, against desire, +against morning resolves--and there he is! + +That is just one example, of the simplest and slightest. Examples can be +multiplied. The man may be a young man whose immediate future depends on +his passing an examination--an examination which he is capable of +passing 'on his head,' which nothing can prevent him from passing if +only his brain will not be so absurd as to give orders to his legs to +walk out of the house towards the tennis court instead of sending them +upstairs to the study; if only, having once safely lodged him in the +study, his brain will devote itself to the pages of books instead of +dwelling on the image of a nice girl--not at all like other girls. Or +the man may be an old man who will live in perfect comfort if only his +brain will not interminably run round and round in a circle of +grievances, apprehensions, and fears which no amount of contemplation +can destroy or even ameliorate. + +The brain, the brain--that is the seat of trouble! 'Well,' you say, 'of +course it is. We all know that!' We don't act as if we did, anyway. +'Give us more brains, Lord!' ejaculated a great writer. Personally, I +think he would have been wiser if he had asked first for the power to +keep in order such brains as we have. We indubitably possess quite +enough brains, quite as much as we can handle. The supreme muddlers of +living are often people of quite remarkable intellectual faculty, with a +quite remarkable gift of being wise for others. The pity is that our +brains have a way of 'wandering,' as it is politely called. +Brain-wandering is indeed now recognised as a specific disease. I wonder +what you, O business man with an office in Ludgate Circus, would say to +your office-boy, whom you had dispatched on an urgent message to +Westminster, and whom you found larking around Euston Station when you +rushed to catch your week-end train. 'Please, sir, I started to go to +Westminster, but there's something funny in my limbs that makes me go up +all manner of streets. I can't help it, sir!' 'Can't you?' you would +say. 'Well, you had better go and be somebody else's office-boy.' Your +brain is something worse than that office-boy, something more +insidiously potent for evil. + +I conceive the brain of the average well-intentioned man as possessing +the tricks and manners of one of those gentlemen-at-large who, having +nothing very urgent to do, stroll along and offer their services gratis +to some shorthanded work of philanthropy. They will commonly demoralise +and disorganise the business conduct of an affair in about a fortnight. +They come when they like; they go when they like. Sometimes they are +exceedingly industrious and obedient, but then there is an even chance +that they will shirk and follow their own sweet will. And they mustn't +be spoken to, or pulled up--for have they not kindly volunteered, and +are they not giving their days for naught! These persons are the bane of +the enterprises in which they condescend to meddle. Now, there is a vast +deal too much of the gentleman-at-large about one's brain. One's brain +has no right whatever to behave as a gentleman-at-large: but it in fact +does. It forgets; it flatly ignores orders; at the critical moment when +pressure is highest, it simply lights a cigarette and goes out for a +walk. And we meekly sit down under this behaviour! 'I didn't feel like +stewing,' says the young man who, against his wish, will fail in his +examination. 'The words were out of my mouth before I knew it,' says the +husband whose wife is a woman. 'I couldn't get any inspiration to-day,' +says the artist. 'I can't resist Stilton,' says the fellow who is dying +of greed. 'One can't help one's thoughts,' says the old worrier. And +this last really voices the secret excuse of all five. + +And you all say to me: 'My brain is myself. How can I alter myself? I +was born like that.' In the first place you were not born 'like that,' +you have lapsed to that. And in the second place your brain is not +yourself. It is only a part of yourself, and not the highest seat of +authority. Do you love your mother, wife, or children with your brain? +Do you desire with your brain? Do you, in a word, ultimately and +essentially _live_ with your brain? No. Your brain is an instrument. The +proof that it is an instrument lies in the fact that, when extreme +necessity urges, _you_ can command your brain to do certain things, and +it does them. The first of the two great principles which underlie the +efficiency of the human machine is this: _The brain is a servant, +exterior to the central force of the Ego_. If it is out of control the +reason is not that it is uncontrollable, but merely that its discipline +has been neglected. The brain can be trained, as the hand and eye can be +trained; it can be made as obedient as a sporting dog, and by similar +methods. In the meantime the indispensable preparation for brain +discipline is to form the habit of regarding one's brain as an +instrument exterior to one's self, like a tongue or a foot. + + + + +IV + +THE FIRST PRACTICAL STEP + + +The brain is a highly quaint organism. Let me say at once, lest I should +be cannonaded by physiologists, psychologists, or metaphysicians, that +by the 'brain' I mean the faculty which reasons and which gives orders +to the muscles. I mean exactly what the plain man means by the brain. +The brain is the diplomatist which arranges relations between our +instinctive self and the universe, and it fulfils its mission when it +provides for the maximum of freedom to the instincts with the minimum of +friction. It argues with the instincts. It takes them on one side and +points out the unwisdom of certain performances. It catches them by the +coat-tails when they are about to make fools of themselves. 'Don't +drink all that iced champagne at a draught,' it says to one instinct; +'we may die of it.' 'Don't catch that rude fellow one in the eye,' it +says to another instinct; 'he is more powerful than us.' It is, in fact, +a majestic spectacle of common sense. And yet it has the most +extraordinary lapses. It is just like that man--we all know him and +consult him--who is a continual fount of excellent, sagacious advice on +everything, but who somehow cannot bring his sagacity to bear on his own +personal career. + +In the matter of its own special activities the brain is usually +undisciplined and unreliable. We never know what it will do next. We +give it some work to do, say, as we are walking along the street to the +office. Perhaps it has to devise some scheme for making £150 suffice for +£200, or perhaps it has to plan out the heads of a very important +letter. We meet a pretty woman, and away that undisciplined, sagacious +brain runs after her, dropping the scheme or the draft letter, and +amusing itself with aspirations or regrets for half an hour, an hour, +sometimes a day. The serious part of our instinctive self feebly +remonstrates, but without effect. Or it may be that we have suffered a +great disappointment, which is definite and hopeless. Will the brain, +like a sensible creature, leave that disappointment alone, and instead +of living in the past live in the present or the future? Not it! Though +it knows perfectly well that it is wasting its time and casting a very +painful and utterly unnecessary gloom over itself and us, it can so +little control its unhealthy morbid appetite that no expostulations will +induce it to behave rationally. Or perhaps, after a confabulation with +the soul, it has been decided that when next a certain harmful instinct +comes into play the brain shall firmly interfere. 'Yes,' says the +brain, 'I really will watch that.' But when the moment arrives, is the +brain on the spot? The brain has probably forgotten the affair entirely, +or remembered it too late; or sighs, as the victorious instinct knocks +it on the head: 'Well, _next_ time!' + +All this, and much more that every reader can supply from his own +exciting souvenirs, is absurd and ridiculous on the part of the brain. +It is a conclusive proof that the brain is out of condition, idle as a +nigger, capricious as an actor-manager, and eaten to the core with loose +habits. Therefore the brain must be put into training. It is the most +important part of the human machine by which the soul expresses and +develops itself, and it must learn good habits. And primarily it must be +taught obedience. Obedience can only be taught by imposing one's will, +by the sheer force of volition. And the brain must be mastered by +will-power. The beginning of wise living lies in the control of the +brain by the will; so that the brain may act according to the precepts +which the brain itself gives. With an obedient disciplined brain a man +may live always right up to the standard of his best moments. + +To teach a child obedience you tell it to do something, and you see that +that something is done. The same with the brain. Here is the foundation +of an efficient life and the antidote for the tendency to make a fool of +oneself. It is marvellously simple. Say to your brain: 'From 9 o'clock +to 9.30 this morning you must dwell without ceasing on a particular +topic which I will give you.' Now, it doesn't matter what this topic +is--the point is to control and invigorate the brain by exercise--but +you may just as well give it a useful topic to think over as a futile +one. You might give it this: 'My brain is my servant. I am not the +play-thing of my brain.' Let it concentrate on these statements for +thirty minutes. 'What?' you cry. 'Is this the way to an efficient life? +Why, there's nothing in it!' Simple as it may appear, this _is_ the way, +and it is the only way. As for there being nothing in it, try it. I +guarantee that you will fail to keep your brain concentrated on the +given idea for thirty seconds--let alone thirty minutes. You will find +your brain conducting itself in a manner which would be comic were it +not tragic. Your first experiments will result in disheartening failure, +for to exact from the brain, at will and by will, concentration on a +given idea for even so short a period as half an hour is an exceedingly +difficult feat--and a fatiguing! It needs perseverance. It needs a +terrible obstinacy on the part of the will. That brain of yours will be +hopping about all over the place, and every time it hops you must bring +it back by force to its original position. You must absolutely compel it +to ignore every idea except the one which you have selected for its +attention. You cannot hope to triumph all at once. But you can hope to +triumph. There is no royal road to the control of the brain. There is no +patent dodge about it, and no complicated function which a plain person +may not comprehend. It is simply a question of: 'I will, _I_ will, and I +_will_.' (Italics here are indispensable.) + +Let me resume. Efficient living, living up to one's best standard, +getting the last ounce of power out of the machine with the minimum of +friction: these things depend on the disciplined and vigorous condition +of the brain. The brain can be disciplined by learning the habit of +obedience. And it can learn the habit of obedience by the practice of +concentration. Disciplinary concentration, though nothing could have +the air of being simpler, is the basis of the whole structure. This fact +must be grasped imaginatively; it must be seen and felt. The more +regularly concentration is practised, the more firmly will the +imagination grasp the effects of it, both direct and indirect. After but +a few days of honest trying in the exercise which I have indicated, you +will perceive its influence. You will grow accustomed to the idea, at +first strange in its novelty, of the brain being external to the supreme +force which is _you_, and in subjection to that force. You will, as a +not very distant possibility, see yourself in possession of the power to +switch your brain on and off in a particular subject as you switch +electricity on and off in a particular room. The brain will get used to +the straight paths of obedience. And--a remarkable phenomenon--it will, +by the mere practice of obedience, become less forgetful and more +effective. It will not so frequently give way to an instinct that takes +it by surprise. In a word, it will have received a general tonic. With a +brain that is improving every day you can set about the perfecting of +the machine in a scientific manner. + + + + +V + +HABIT-FORMING BY CONCENTRATION + + +As soon as the will has got the upper hand of the brain--as soon as it +can say to the brain, with a fair certainty of being obeyed: 'Do this. +Think along these lines, and continue to do so without wandering until I +give you leave to stop'--then is the time arrived when the perfecting of +the human machine may be undertaken in a large and comprehensive spirit, +as a city council undertakes the purification and reconstruction of a +city. The tremendous possibilities of an obedient brain will be +perceived immediately we begin to reflect upon what we mean by our +'character.' Now, a person's character is, and can be, nothing else but +the total result of his habits of thought. A person is benevolent +because he habitually thinks benevolently. A person is idle because his +thoughts dwell habitually on the instant pleasures of idleness. It is +true that everybody is born with certain predispositions, and that these +predispositions influence very strongly the early formation of habits of +thought. But the fact remains that the character is built by +long-continued habits of thought. If the mature edifice of character +usually shows in an exaggerated form the peculiarities of the original +predisposition, this merely indicates a probability that the slow +erection of the edifice has proceeded at haphazard, and that reason has +not presided over it. A child may be born with a tendency to bent +shoulders. If nothing is done, if on the contrary he becomes a clerk and +abhors gymnastics, his shoulders will develop an excessive roundness, +entirely through habit. Whereas, if his will, guided by his reason, had +compelled the formation of a corrective physical habit, his shoulders +might have been, if not quite straight, nearly so. Thus a physical +habit! The same with a mental habit. + +The more closely we examine the development of original predispositions, +the more clearly we shall see that this development is not inevitable, +is not a process which works itself out independently according to +mysterious, ruthless laws which we cannot understand. For instance, the +effect of an original predisposition may be destroyed by an accidental +shock. A young man with an inherited tendency to alcohol may develop +into a stern teetotaller through the shock caused by seeing his drunken +father strike his mother; whereas, if his father had chanced to be +affectionate in drink, the son might have ended in the gutter. No +ruthless law here! It is notorious, also, that natures are sometimes +completely changed in their development by chance momentary contact +with natures stronger than themselves. 'From that day I resolved--' etc. +You know the phrase. Often the resolve is not kept; but often it is +kept. A spark has inflamed the will. The burning will has tyrannised +over the brain. New habits have been formed. And the result looks just +like a miracle. + +Now, if these great transformations can be brought about by accident, +cannot similar transformations be brought about by a reasonable design? +At any rate, if one starts to bring them about, one starts with the +assurance that transformations are not impossible, since they have +occurred. One starts also in the full knowledge of the influence of +habit on life. Take any one of your own habits, mental or physical. You +will be able to recall the time when that habit did not exist, or if it +did exist it was scarcely perceptible. And you will discover that +nearly all your habits have been formed unconsciously, by daily +repetitions which bore no relation to a general plan, and which you +practised not noticing. You will be compelled to admit that your +'character,' as it is to-day, is a structure that has been built almost +without the aid of an architect; higgledy-piggledy, anyhow. But +occasionally the architect did step in and design something. Here and +there among your habits you will find one that you consciously and of +deliberate purpose initiated and persevered with--doubtless owing to +some happy influence. What is the difference between that conscious +habit and the unconscious habits? None whatever as regards its effect on +the sum of your character. It may be the strongest of all your habits. +The only quality that differentiates it from the others is that it has a +definite object (most likely a good object), and that it wholly or +partially fulfils that object. There is not a man who reads these lines +but has, in this detail or that, proved in himself that the will, +forcing the brain to repeat the same action again and again, can modify +the shape of his character as a sculptor modifies the shape of damp +clay. + +But if a grown man's character is developing from day to day (as it is), +if nine-tenths of the development is due to unconscious action and +one-tenth to conscious action, and if the one-tenth conscious is the +most satisfactory part of the total result; why, in the name of common +sense, henceforward, should not nine-tenths, instead of one-tenth, be +due to conscious action? What is there to prevent this agreeable +consummation? There is nothing whatever to prevent it--except +insubordination on the part of the brain. And insubordination of the +brain can be cured, as I have previously shown. When I see men unhappy +and inefficient in the craft of _living_, from sheer, crass inattention +to their own development; when I see misshapen men building up +businesses and empires, and never stopping to build up themselves; when +I see dreary men expending precisely the same energy on teaching a dog +to walk on its hind-legs as would brighten the whole colour of their own +lives, I feel as if I wanted to give up the ghost, so ridiculous, so +fatuous does the spectacle seem! But, of course, I do not give up the +ghost. The paroxysm passes. Only I really must cry out: 'Can't you see +what you're missing? Can't you see that you're missing the most +interesting thing on earth, far more interesting than businesses, +empires, and dogs? Doesn't it strike you how clumsy and short-sighted +you are--working always with an inferior machine when you might have a +smooth-gliding perfection? Doesn't it strike you how badly you are +treating yourself?' + +Listen, you confirmed grumbler, you who make the evening meal hideous +with complaints against destiny--for it is you I will single out. Are +you aware what people are saying about you behind your back? They are +saying that you render yourself and your family miserable by the habit +which has grown on you of always grumbling. 'Surely it isn't as bad as +that?' you protest. Yes, it is just as bad as that. You say: 'The fact +is, I know it's absurd to grumble. But I'm like that. I've tried to stop +it, and I can't!' How have you tried to stop it? 'Well, I've made up my +mind several times to fight against it, but I never succeed. This is +strictly between ourselves. I don't usually admit that I'm a grumbler.' +Considering that you grumble for about an hour and a half every day of +your life, it was sanguine, my dear sir, to expect to cure such a habit +by means of a solitary intention, formed at intervals in the brain and +then forgotten. No! You must do more than that. If you will daily fix +your brain firmly for half an hour on the truth (you know it to be a +truth) that grumbling is absurd and futile, your brain will henceforward +begin to form a habit in that direction; it will begin to be moulded to +the idea that grumbling is absurd and futile. In odd moments, when it +isn't thinking of anything in particular, it will suddenly remember that +grumbling is absurd and futile. When you sit down to the meal and open +your mouth to say: 'I can't think what my ass of a partner means by--' +it will remember that grumbling is absurd and futile, and will alter the +arrangement of your throat, teeth, and tongue, so that you will say: +'What fine weather we're having!' In brief, it will remember +involuntarily, by a new habit. All who look into their experience will +admit that the failure to replace old habits by new ones is due to the +fact that at the critical moment the brain does not remember; it simply +forgets. The practice of concentration will cure that. All depends on +regular concentration. This grumbling is an instance, though chosen not +quite at hazard. + + + + +VI + +LORD OVER THE NODDLE + + +Having proved by personal experiment the truth of the first of the two +great principles which concern the human machine--namely, that the brain +is a servant, not a master, and can be controlled--we may now come to +the second. The second is more fundamental than the first, but it can be +of no use until the first is understood and put into practice. The human +machine is an apparatus of brain and muscle for enabling the Ego to +develop freely in the universe by which it is surrounded, without +friction. Its function is to convert the facts of the universe to the +best advantage of the Ego. The facts of the universe are the material +with which it is its business to deal--not the facts of an ideal +universe, but the facts of this universe. Hence, when friction occurs, +when the facts of the universe cease to be of advantage to the Ego, the +fault is in the machine. It is not the solar system that has gone wrong, +but the human machine. Second great principle, therefore: '_In case of +friction, the machine is always at fault_.' + +You can control nothing but your own mind. Even your two-year-old babe +may defy you by the instinctive force of its personality. But your own +mind you can control. Your own mind is a sacred enclosure into which +nothing harmful can enter except by your permission. Your own mind has +the power to transmute every external phenomenon to its own purposes. If +happiness arises from cheerfulness, kindliness, and rectitude (and who +will deny it?), what possible combination of circumstances is going to +make you unhappy so long as the machine remains in order? If +self-development consists in the utilisation of one's environment (not +utilisation of somebody else's environment), how can your environment +prevent you from developing? You would look rather foolish without it, +anyway. In that noddle of yours is everything necessary for development, +for the maintaining of dignity, for the achieving of happiness, and you +are absolute lord over the noddle, will you but exercise the powers of +lordship. Why worry about the contents of somebody else's noddle, in +which you can be nothing but an intruder, when you may arrive at a +better result, with absolute certainty, by confining your activities to +your own? 'Look within.' 'The Kingdom of Heaven is within you.' 'Oh, +yes!' you protest. 'All that's old. Epictetus said that. Marcus Aurelius +said that. Christ said that.' They did. I admit it readily. But if you +were ruffled this morning because your motor-omnibus broke down, and +you had to take a cab, then so far as you are concerned these great +teachers lived in vain. You, calling yourself a reasonable man, are +going about dependent for your happiness, dignity, and growth, upon a +thousand things over which you have no control, and the most exquisitely +organised machine for ensuring happiness, dignity, and growth, is +rusting away inside you. And all because you have a sort of notion that +a saying said two thousand years ago cannot be practical. + +You remark sagely to your child: 'No, my child, you cannot have that +moon, and you will accomplish nothing by crying for it. Now, here is +this beautiful box of bricks, by means of which you may amuse yourself +while learning many wonderful matters and improving your mind. You must +try to be content with what you have, and to make the best of it. If you +had the moon you wouldn't be any happier.' Then you lie awake half the +night repining because the last post has brought a letter to the effect +that 'the Board cannot entertain your application for,' etc. You say the +two cases are not alike. They are not. Your child has never heard of +Epictetus. On the other hand, justice _is_ the moon. At your age you +surely know that. 'But the Directors _ought_ to have granted my +application,' you insist. Exactly! I agree. But we are not in a universe +of _oughts_. You have a special apparatus within you for dealing with a +universe where _oughts_ are flagrantly disregarded. And you are not +using it. You are lying awake, keeping your wife awake, injuring your +health, injuring hers, losing your dignity and your cheerfulness. Why? +Because you think that these antics and performances will influence the +Board? Because you think that they will put you into a better condition +for dealing with your environment to-morrow? Not a bit. Simply because +the machine is at fault. + +In certain cases we do make use of our machines (as well as their sad +condition of neglect will allow), but in other cases we behave in an +extraordinarily irrational manner. Thus if we sally out and get caught +in a heavy shower we do not, unless very far gone in foolishness, sit +down and curse the weather. We put up our umbrella, if we have one, and +if not we hurry home. We may grumble, but it is not serious grumbling; +we accept the shower as a fact of the universe, and control ourselves. +Thus also, if by a sudden catastrophe we lose somebody who is important +to us, we grieve, but we control ourselves, recognising one of those +hazards of destiny from which not even millionaires are exempt. And the +result on our Ego is usually to improve it in essential respects. But +there are other strokes of destiny, other facts of the universe, +against which we protest as a child protests when deprived of the moon. + +Take the case of an individual with an imperfect idea of honesty. Now, +that individual is the consequence of his father and mother and his +environment, and his father and mother of theirs, and so backwards to +the single-celled protoplasm. That individual is a result of the cosmic +order, the inevitable product of cause and effect. We know that. We must +admit that he is just as much a fact of the universe as a shower of rain +or a storm at sea that swallows a ship. We freely grant in the abstract +that there must be, at the present stage of evolution, a certain number +of persons with unfair minds. We are quite ready to contemplate such an +individual with philosophy--until it happens that, in the course of the +progress of the solar system, he runs up against ourselves. Then listen +to the outcry! Listen to the continual explosions of a righteous man +aggrieved! The individual may be our clerk, cashier, son, father, +brother, partner, wife, employer. We are ill-used! We are being treated +unfairly! We kick; we scream. We nourish the inward sense of grievance +that eats the core out of content. We sit down in the rain. We decline +to think of umbrellas, or to run to shelter. + +We care not that that individual is a fact which the universe has been +slowly manufacturing for millions of years. Our attitude implies that we +want eternity to roll back and begin again, in such wise that we at any +rate shall not be disturbed. Though we have a machine for the +transmutation of facts into food for our growth, we do not dream of +using it. But, we say, he is doing us harm! Where? In our minds. He has +robbed us of our peace, our comfort, our happiness, our good temper. +Even if he has, we might just as well inveigh against a shower. But has +he? What was our brain doing while this naughty person stepped in and +robbed us of the only possessions worth having? No, no! It is not that +he has done us harm--the one cheerful item in a universe of stony facts +is that no one can harm anybody except himself--it is merely that we +have been silly, precisely as silly as if we had taken a seat in the +rain with a folded umbrella by our side.... The machine is at fault. I +fancy we are now obtaining glimpses of what that phrase really means. + + + + +VII + +WHAT 'LIVING' CHIEFLY IS + + +It is in intercourse--social, sentimental, or business--with one's +fellows that the qualities and the condition of the human machine are +put to the test and strained. That part of my life which I conduct by +myself, without reference--or at any rate without direct reference--to +others, I can usually manage in such a way that the gods do not +positively weep at the spectacle thereof. My environment is simpler, +less puzzling, when I am alone, my calm and my self-control less liable +to violent fluctuations. Impossible to be disturbed by a chair! +Impossible that a chair should get on one's nerves! Impossible to blame +a chair for not being as reasonable, as archangelic as I am myself! But +when it comes to people!... Well, that is +'living,' then! The art of life, the art of extracting all its power +from the human machine, does not lie chiefly in processes of +bookish-culture, nor in contemplations of the beauty and majesty of +existence. It lies chiefly in keeping the peace, the whole peace, and +nothing but the peace, with those with whom one is 'thrown.' Is it in +sitting ecstatic over Shelley, Shakespeare, or Herbert Spencer, solitary +in my room of a night, that I am 'improving myself' and learning to +live? Or is it in watching over all my daily human contacts? Do not seek +to escape the comparison by insinuating that I despise study, or by +pointing out that the eternal verities are beyond dailiness. Nothing of +the kind! I am so 'silly' about books that merely to possess them gives +me pleasure. And if the verities are good for eternity they ought to be +good for a day. If I cannot exchange them for daily coin--if I can't +buy happiness for a single day because I've nothing less than an eternal +verity about me and nobody has sufficient change--then my eternal verity +is not an eternal verity. It is merely an unnegotiable bit of glass +(called a diamond), or even a note on the Bank of Engraving. + +I can say to myself when I arise in the morning: 'I am master of my +brain. No one can get in there and rage about like a bull in a china +shop. If my companions on the planet's crust choose to rage about they +cannot affect _me_! I will not let them. I have power to maintain my own +calm, and I will. No earthly being can force me to be false to my +principles, or to be blind to the beauty of the universe, or to be +gloomy, or to be irritable, or to complain against my lot. For these +things depend on the brain; cheerfulness, kindliness, and honest +thinking are all within the department of the brain. The disciplined +brain can accomplish them. And my brain is disciplined, and I will +discipline it more and more as the days pass. I am, therefore, +independent of hazard, and I will back myself to conduct all intercourse +as becomes a rational creature.' ... I can say this. I can ram this +argument by force of will into my brain, and by dint of repeating it +often enough I shall assuredly arrive at the supreme virtues of reason. +I should assuredly conquer--the brain being such a machine of +habit--even if I did not take the trouble to consider in the slightest +degree what manner of things my fellow-men are--by acting merely in my +own interests. But the way of perfection (I speak relatively) will be +immensely shortened and smoothed if I do consider, dispassionately, the +case of the other human machines. Thus:-- + +The truth is that my attitude towards my fellows is fundamentally and +totally wrong, and that it entails on my thinking machine a strain +which is quite unnecessary, though I may have arranged the machine so as +to withstand the strain successfully. The secret of smooth living is a +calm cheerfulness which will leave me always in full possession of my +reasoning faculty--in order that I may live by reason instead of by +instinct and momentary passion. The secret of calm cheerfulness is +kindliness; no person can be consistently cheerful and calm who does not +consistently think kind thoughts. But how can I be kindly when I pass +the major portion of my time in blaming the people who surround me--who +are part of my environment? If I, blaming, achieve some approach to +kindliness, it is only by a great and exhausting effort of self-mastery. +The inmost secret, then, lies in not blaming, in not judging and +emitting verdicts. Oh! I do not blame by word of mouth! I am far too +advanced for such a puerility. I keep the blame in my own breast, where +it festers. I am always privately forgiving, which is bad for me. +Because, you know, there is nothing to forgive. I do not have to forgive +bad weather; nor, if I found myself in an earthquake, should I have to +forgive the earthquake. + +All blame, uttered or unexpressed, is wrong. I do not blame myself. I +can explain myself to myself. I can invariably explain myself. If I +forged a friend's name on a cheque I should explain the affair quite +satisfactorily to myself. And instead of blaming myself I should +sympathise with myself for having been driven into such an excessively +awkward corner. Let me examine honestly my mental processes, and I must +admit that my attitude towards others is entirely different from my +attitude towards myself. I must admit that in the seclusion of my mind, +though I say not a word, I am constantly blaming others because I am +not happy. Whenever I bump up against an opposing personality and my +smooth progress is impeded, I secretly blame the opposer. I act as +though I had shouted to the world: 'Clear out of the way, every one, for +I am coming!' Every one does not clear out of the way. I did not really +expect every one to clear out of the way. But I act, within, as though I +had so expected. I blame. Hence kindliness, hence cheerfulness, is +rendered vastly more difficult for me. + +What I ought to do is this! I ought to reflect again and again, and yet +again, that the beings among whom I have to steer, the living +environment out of which I have to manufacture my happiness, are just as +inevitable in the scheme of evolution as I am myself; have just as much +right to be themselves as I have to be myself; are precisely my equals +in the face of Nature; are capable of being explained as I am capable +of being explained; are entitled to the same latitude as I am entitled +to, and are no more responsible for their composition and their +environment than I for mine. I ought to reflect again and again, and yet +again, that they all deserve from me as much sympathy as I give to +myself. Why not? Having thus reflected in a general manner, I ought to +take one by one the individuals with whom I am brought into frequent +contact, and seek, by a deliberate effort of the imagination and the +reason, to understand them, to understand why they act thus and thus, +what their difficulties are, what their 'explanation' is, and how +friction can be avoided. So I ought to reflect, morning after morning, +until my brain is saturated with the cases of these individuals. Here is +a course of discipline. If I follow it I shall gradually lose the +preposterous habit of blaming, and I shall have laid the foundations of +that quiet, unshakable self-possession which is the indispensable +preliminary of conduct according to reason, of thorough efficiency in +the machine of happiness. But something in me, something distinctly +base, says: 'Yes. The put-yourself-in-his-place business over again! The +do-unto-others business over again!' Just so! Something in me is ashamed +of being 'moral.' (You all know the feeling!) Well, morals are naught +but another name for reasonable conduct; a higher and more practical +form of egotism--an egotism which, while freeing others, frees myself. I +have tried the lower form of egotism. And it has failed. If I am afraid +of being moral, if I prefer to cut off my nose to spite my face, well, I +must accept the consequences. But truth will prevail. + + + + +VIII + +THE DAILY FRICTION + + +It is with common daily affairs that I am now dealing, not with heroic +enterprises, ambitions, martyrdoms. Take the day, the ordinary day in +the ordinary house or office. Though it comes seven times a week, and is +the most banal thing imaginable, it is quite worth attention. How does +the machine get through it? Ah! the best that can be said of the machine +is that it does get through it, somehow. The friction, though seldom +such as to bring matters to a standstill, is frequent--the sort of +friction that, when it occurs in a bicycle, is just sufficient to annoy +the rider, but not sufficient to make him get off the machine and +examine the bearings. Occasionally the friction is very loud; indeed, +disturbing, and at rarer intervals it shrieks, like an omnibus brake out +of order. You know those days when you have the sensation that life is +not large enough to contain the household or the office-staff, when the +business of intercourse may be compared to the manoeuvres of two people +who, having awakened with a bad headache, are obliged to dress +simultaneously in a very small bedroom. 'After you with that towel!' in +accents of bitter, grinding politeness. 'If you could kindly move your +things off this chair!' in a voice that would blow brains out if it were +a bullet. I venture to say that you know those days. 'But,' you reply, +'such days are few. Usually...!' Well, usually, the friction, though +less intense, is still proceeding. We grow accustomed to it. We scarcely +notice it, as a person in a stuffy chamber will scarcely notice the +stuffiness. But the deteriorating influence due to friction goes on, +even if unperceived. And one morning we perceive its ravages--and write +a letter to the _Telegraph_ to inquire whether life is worth living, or +whether marriage is a failure, or whether men are more polite than +women. The proof that friction, in various and varying degrees, is +practically conscious in most households lies in the fact that when we +chance on a household where there is no friction we are startled. We +can't recover from the phenomenon. And in describing this household to +our friends, we say: 'They get on so well together,' as if we were +saying: 'They have wings and can fly! Just fancy! Did you ever hear of +such a thing?' + +Ninety per cent. of all daily friction is caused by tone--mere tone of +voice. Try this experiment. Say: 'Oh, you little darling, you sweet pet, +you entirely charming creature!' to a baby or a dog; but roar these +delightful epithets in the tone of saying: 'You infernal little +nuisance! If I hear another sound I'll break every bone in your body!' +The baby will infallibly whimper, and the dog will infallibly mouch off. +True, a dog is not a human being, neither is a baby. They cannot +understand. It is precisely because they cannot understand and +articulate words that the experiment is valuable; for it separates the +effect of the tone from the effect of the word spoken. He who speaks, +speaks twice. His words convey his thought, and his tone conveys his +mental attitude towards the person spoken to. And certainly the +attitude, so far as friction goes, is more important than the thought. +Your wife may say to you: 'I shall buy that hat I spoke to you about.' +And you may reply, quite sincerely, 'As you please.' But it will depend +on your tone whether you convey: 'As you please. I am sympathetically +anxious that your innocent caprices should be indulged.' Or whether you +convey: 'As you please. Only don't bother me with hats. I am above hats. +A great deal too much money is spent in this house on hats. However, I'm +helpless!' Or whether you convey: 'As you please, heart of my heart, but +if you would like to be a nice girl, go gently. We're rather tight.' I +need not elaborate. I am sure of being comprehended. + +As tone is the expression of attitude, it is, of course, caused by +attitude. The frictional tone is chiefly due to that general attitude of +blame which I have already condemned as being absurd and unjustifiable. +As, by constant watchful discipline, we gradually lose this silly +attitude of blame, so the tone will of itself gradually change. But the +two ameliorations can proceed together, and it is a curious thing that +an agreeable tone, artificially and deliberately adopted, will +influence the mental attitude almost as much as the mental attitude will +influence the tone. If you honestly feel resentful against some one, +but, having understood the foolishness of fury, intentionally mask your +fury under a persuasive tone, your fury will at once begin to abate. You +will be led into a rational train of thought; you will see that after +all the object of your resentment has a right to exist, and that he is +neither a doormat nor a scoundrel, and that anyhow nothing is to be +gained, and much is to be lost, by fury. You will see that fury is +unworthy of you. + +Do you remember the gentleness of the tone which you employed after the +healing of your first quarrel with a beloved companion? Do you remember +the persuasive tone which you used when you wanted to obtain something +from a difficult person on whom your happiness depended? Why should not +your tone always combine these qualities? Why should you not carefully +school your tone? Is it beneath you to ensure the largest possible +amount of your own 'way' by the simplest means? Or is there at the back +of your mind that peculiarly English and German idea that politeness, +sympathy, and respect for another immortal soul would imply deplorable +weakness on your part? You say that your happiness does not depend on +every person whom you happen to speak to. Yes, it does. Your happiness +is always dependent on just that person. Produce friction, and you +suffer. Idle to argue that the person has no business to be upset by +your tone! You have caused avoidable friction, simply because your +machine for dealing with your environment was suffering from pride, +ignorance, or thoughtlessness. You say I am making a mountain out of a +mole-hill. No! I am making a mountain out of ten million mole-hills. +And that is what life does. It is the little but continuous causes that +have great effects. I repeat: Why not deliberately adopt a gentle, +persuasive tone--just to see what the results are? Surely you are not +ashamed to be wise. You may smile superiorly as you read this. Yet you +know very well that more than once you _have_ resolved to use a gentle +and persuasive tone on all occasions, and that the sole reason why you +had that fearful shindy yesterday with your cousin's sister-in-law was +that you had long since failed to keep your resolve. But you were of my +mind once, and more than once. + +What you have to do is to teach the new habit to your brain by daily +concentration on it; by forcing your brain to think of nothing else for +half an hour of a morning. After a time the brain will begin to remember +automatically. For, of course, the explanation of your previous +failures is that your brain, undisciplined, merely forgot at the +critical moment. The tone was out of your mouth before your brain had +waked up. It is necessary to watch, as though you were a sentinel, not +only against the wrong tone, but against the other symptoms of the +attitude of blame. Such as the frown. It is necessary to regard yourself +constantly, and in minute detail. You lie in bed for half an hour and +enthusiastically concentrate on this beautiful new scheme of the right +tone. You rise, and because you don't achieve a proper elegance of +necktie at the first knotting, you frown and swear and clench your +teeth! There is a symptom of the wrong attitude towards your +environment. You are awake, but your brain isn't. It is in such a +symptom that you may judge yourself. And not a trifling symptom either! +If you will frown at a necktie, if you will use language to a necktie +which no gentleman should use to a necktie, what will you be capable of +to a responsible being?... Yes, it is very difficult. But it can be +done. + + + + +IX + +'FIRE!' + + +In this business of daily living, of ordinary usage of the machine in +hourly intercourse, there occurs sometimes a phenomenon which is the +cause of a great deal of trouble, and the result of a very ill-tended +machine. It is a phenomenon impossible to ignore, and yet, so shameful +is it, so degrading, so shocking, so miserable, that I hesitate to +mention it. For one class of reader is certain to ridicule me, loftily +saying: 'One really doesn't expect to find this sort of thing in print +nowadays!' And another class of reader is certain to get angry. +Nevertheless, as one of my main objects in the present book is to +discuss matters which 'people don't talk about,' I shall discuss this +matter. But my diffidence in doing so is such that I must approach it +deviously, describing it first by means of a figure. + +Imagine that, looking at a man's house, you suddenly perceive it to be +on fire. The flame is scarcely perceptible. You could put it out if you +had a free hand. But you have not got a free hand. It is his house, not +yours. He may or may not know that his house is burning. You are aware, +by experience, however, that if you directed his attention to the flame, +the effect of your warning would be exceedingly singular, almost +incredible. For the effect would be that he would instantly begin to +strike matches, pour on petroleum, and fan the flame, violently +resenting interference. Therefore you can only stand and watch, hoping +that he will notice the flames before they are beyond control, and +extinguish them. The probability is, however, that he will notice the +flames too late. And powerless to avert disaster, you are condemned, +therefore, to watch the damage of valuable property. The flames leap +higher and higher, and they do not die down till they have burned +themselves out. You avert your gaze from the spectacle, and until you +are gone the owner of the house pretends that nothing has occurred. When +alone he curses himself for his carelessness. + +The foregoing is meant to be a description of what happens when a man +passes through the incendiary experience known as 'losing his temper.' +(There! the cat of my chapter is out of the bag!) A man who has lost his +temper is simply being 'burnt out.' His constitutes one of the most +curious and (for everybody) humiliating spectacles that life offers. It +is an insurrection, a boiling over, a sweeping storm. Dignity, common +sense, justice are shrivelled up and destroyed. Anarchy reigns. The +devil has broken his chain. Instinct is stamping on the face of reason. +And in that man civilisation has temporarily receded millions of years. +Of course, the thing amounts to a nervous disease, and I think it is +almost universal. You at once protest that you never lose your +temper--haven't lost your temper for ages! But do you not mean that you +have not smashed furniture for ages? These fires are of varying +intensities. Some of them burn very dully. Yet they burn. One man loses +his temper; another is merely 'ruffled.' But the event is the same in +kind. When you are 'ruffled,' when you are conscious of a resentful +vibration that surprises all your being, when your voice changes, when +you notice a change in the demeanour of your companion, who sees that he +has 'touched a tender point,' you may not go to the length of smashing +furniture, but you have had a fire, and your dignity is damaged. You +admit it to yourself afterwards. I am sure you know what I mean. And I +am nearly sure that you, with your courageous candour, will admit that +from time to time you suffer from these mysterious 'fires.' + +'Temper,' one of the plagues of human society, is generally held to be +incurable, save by the vague process of exercising self-control--a +process which seldom has any beneficial results. It is regarded now as +smallpox used to be regarded--as a visitation of Providence, which must +be borne. But I do not hold it to be incurable. I am convinced that it +is permanently curable. And its eminent importance as a nuisance to +mankind at large deserves, I think, that it should receive particular +attention. Anyhow, I am strongly against the visitation of Providence +theory, as being unscientific, primitive, and conducive to unashamed +_laissez-aller._ A man can be master in his own house. If he cannot be +master by simple force of will, he can be master by ruse and wile. I +would employ cleverness to maintain the throne of reason when it is +likely to be upset in the mind by one of these devastating and +disgraceful insurrections of brute instinct. + +It is useless for a man in the habit of losing or mislaying his temper +to argue with himself that such a proceeding is folly, that it serves no +end, and does nothing but harm. It is useless for him to argue that in +allowing his temper to stray he is probably guilty of cruelty, and +certainly guilty of injustice to those persons who are forced to witness +the loss. It is useless for him to argue that a man of uncertain temper +in a house is like a man who goes about a house with a loaded revolver +sticking from his pocket, and that all considerations of fairness and +reason have to be subordinated in that house to the fear of the +revolver, and that such peace as is maintained in that house is often a +shameful and an unjust peace. These arguments will not be strong enough +to prevail against one of the most powerful and capricious of all +habits. This habit must be met and conquered (and it _can_ be!) by an +even more powerful quality in the human mind; I mean the universal human +horror of looking ridiculous. The man who loses his temper often thinks +he is doing something rather fine and majestic. On the contrary, so far +is this from being the fact, he is merely making an ass of himself. He +is merely parading himself as an undignified fool, as that supremely +contemptible figure--a grown-up baby. He may intimidate a feeble +companion by his raging, or by the dark sullenness of a more subdued +flame, but in the heart of even the weakest companion is a bedrock +feeling of contempt for him. The way in which a man of uncertain temper +is treated by his friends proves that they despise him, for they do not +treat him as a reasonable being. How should they treat him as a +reasonable being when the tenure of his reason is so insecure? And if +only he could hear what is said of him behind his back!... + +The invalid can cure himself by teaching his brain the habit of dwelling +upon his extreme fatuity. Let him concentrate regularly, with intense +fixation, upon the ideas: 'When I lose my temper, when I get ruffled, +when that mysterious vibration runs through me, I am making a donkey of +myself, a donkey, and a donkey! You understand, a preposterous donkey! I +am behaving like a great baby. I look a fool. I am a spectacle bereft of +dignity. Everybody despises me, smiles at me in secret, disdains the +idiotic ass with whom it is impossible to reason.' + +Ordinarily the invalid disguises from himself this aspect of his +disease, and his brain will instinctively avoid it as much as it can. +But in hours of calm he can slowly and regularly force his brain, by +the practice of concentration, to familiarise itself with just this +aspect, so that in time its instinct will be to think first, and not +last, of just this aspect. When he has arrived at that point he is +saved. No man who, at the very inception of the fire, is visited with a +clear vision of himself as an arrant ass and pitiable object of +contempt, will lack the volition to put the fire out. But, be it noted, +he will not succeed until he can do it at once. A fire is a fire, and +the engines must gallop by themselves out of the station instantly. This +means the acquirement of a mental habit. During the preliminary stages +of the cure he should, of course, avoid inflammable situations. This is +a perfectly simple thing to do, if the brain has been disciplined out of +its natural forgetfulness. + + + + +X + +MISCHIEVOUSLY OVERWORKING IT + + +I have dealt with the two general major causes of friction in the daily +use of the machine. I will now deal with a minor cause, and make an end +of mere dailiness. This minor cause--and after all I do not know that +its results are so trifling as to justify the epithet 'minor'--is the +straining of the machine by forcing it to do work which it was never +intended to do. Although we are incapable of persuading our machines to +do effectively that which they are bound to do somehow, we continually +overburden them with entirely unnecessary and inept tasks. We cannot, it +would seem, let things alone. + +For example, in the ordinary household the amount of machine horse-power +expended in fighting for the truth is really quite absurd. This pure +zeal for the establishment and general admission of the truth is usually +termed 'contradictoriness.' But, of course, it is not that; it is +something higher. My wife states that the Joneses have gone into a new +flat, of which the rent is £165 a year. Now, Jones has told me +personally that the rent of his new flat is £156 a year. I correct my +wife. Knowing that she is in the right, she corrects me. She cannot bear +that a falsehood should prevail. It is not a question of £9, it is a +question of truth. Her enthusiasm for truth excites my enthusiasm for +truth. Five minutes ago I didn't care twopence whether the rent of the +Joneses' new flat was £165 or £156 or £1056 a year. But now I care +intensely that it is £156. I have formed myself into a select society +for the propagating of the truth about the rent of the Joneses' new +flat, and my wife has done the same. In eloquence, in argumentative +skill, in strict supervision of our tempers, we each of us squander +enormous quantities of that h.-p. which is so precious to us. And the +net effect is naught. + +Now, if one of us two had understood the elementary principles of human +engineering, that one would have said (privately): 'Truth is +indestructible. Truth will out. Truth is never in a hurry. If it doesn't +come out to-day it will come out to-morrow or next year. It can take +care of itself. Ultimately my wife (or my husband) will learn the +essential cosmic truth about the rent of the Joneses' new flat. I +already know it, and the moment when she (or he) knows it also will be +the moment of my triumph. She (or he) will not celebrate my triumph +openly, but it will be none the less real. And my reputation for +accuracy and calm restraint will be consolidated. If, by a rare +mischance, I am in error, it will be vastly better for me in the day of +my undoing that I have not been too positive now. Besides, nobody has +appointed me sole custodian of the great truth concerning the rent of +the Joneses' new flat. I was not brought into the world to be a +safe-deposit, and more urgent matters summon me to effort.' If one of us +had meditated thus, much needless friction would have been avoided and +power saved; _amour-propre_ would not have been exposed to risks; the +sacred cause of truth would not in the least have suffered; and the rent +of the Joneses' new flat would anyhow have remained exactly what it is. + +In addition to straining the machine by our excessive anxiety for the +spread of truth, we give a very great deal too much attention to the +state of other people's machines. I cannot too strongly, too +sarcastically, deprecate this astonishing habit. It will be found to be +rife in nearly every household and in nearly every office. We are most +of us endeavouring to rearrange the mechanism in other heads than our +own. This is always dangerous and generally futile. Considering the +difficulty we have in our own brains, where our efforts are sure of +being accepted as well-meant, and where we have at any rate a rough +notion of the machine's construction, our intrepidity in adventuring +among the delicate adjustments of other brains is remarkable. We are +cursed by too much of the missionary spirit. We must needs voyage into +the China of our brother's brain, and explain there that things are +seriously wrong in that heathen land, and make ourselves unpleasant in +the hope of getting them put right. We have all our own brain and body +on which to wreak our personality, but this is not enough; we must +extend our personality further, just as though we were a colonising +world-power intoxicated by the idea of the 'white man's burden.' + +One of the central secrets of efficient daily living is to leave our +daily companions alone a great deal more than we do, and attend to +ourselves. If a daily companion is conducting his life upon principles +which you know to be false, and with results which you feel to be +unpleasant, the safe rule is to keep your mouth shut. Or if, out of your +singular conceit, you are compelled to open it, open it with all +precautions, and with the formal politeness you would use to a stranger. +Intimacy is no excuse for rough manners, though the majority of us seem +to think it is. You are not in charge of the universe; you are in charge +of yourself. You cannot hope to manage the universe in your spare time, +and if you try you will probably make a mess of such part of the +universe as you touch, while gravely neglecting yourself. In every +family there is generally some one whose meddlesome interest in other +machines leads to serious friction in his own. Criticise less, even in +the secrecy of your chamber. And do not blame at all. Accept your +environment and adapt yourself to it in silence, instead of noisily +attempting to adapt your environment to yourself. Here is true wisdom. +You have no business trespassing beyond the confines of your own +individuality. In so trespassing you are guilty of impertinence. This is +obvious. And yet one of the chief activities of home-life consists in +prancing about at random on other people's private lawns. What I say +applies even to the relation between parents and children. And though my +precept is exaggerated, it is purposely exaggerated in order effectively +to balance the exaggeration in the opposite direction. + +All individualities, other than one's own, are part of one's +environment. The evolutionary process is going on all right, and they +are a portion of it. Treat them as inevitable. To assert that they are +inevitable is not to assert that they are unalterable. Only the +alteration of them is not primarily your affair; it is theirs. Your +affair is to use them, as they are, without self-righteousness, blame, +or complaint, for the smooth furtherance of your own ends. There is no +intention here to rob them of responsibility by depriving them of +free-will while saddling _you_ with responsibility as a free agent. As +your environment they must be accepted as inevitable, because they _are_ +inevitable. But as centres themselves they have their own +responsibility: which is not yours. The historic question: 'Have we +free-will, or are we the puppets of determinism?' enters now. As a +question it is fascinating and futile. It has never been, and it never +will be, settled. The theory of determinism cannot be demolished by +argument. But in his heart every man, including the most obstinate +supporter of the theory, demolishes it every hour of every day. On the +other hand, the theory of free-will can be demolished by ratiocination! +So much the worse for ratiocination! _If we regard ourselves as free +agents, and the personalities surrounding us as the puppets of +determinism_, we shall have arrived at the working compromise from which +the finest results of living can be obtained. The philosophic experience +of centuries, if it has proved anything, has proved this. And the man +who acts upon it in the common, banal contracts and collisions of the +difficult experiment which we call daily life, will speedily become +convinced of its practical worth. + + + + +XI + +AN INTERLUDE + + +For ten chapters you have stood it, but not without protest. I know the +feeling which is in your minds, and which has manifested itself in +numerous criticisms of my ideas. That feeling may be briefly translated, +perhaps, thus: 'This is all very well, but it isn't true, not a bit! +It's only a fairy-tale that you have been telling us. Miracles don't +happen,' etc. I, on my part, have a feeling that unless I take your +feeling in hand at once, and firmly deal with it, I had better put my +shutters up, for you will have got into the way of regarding me simply +as a source of idle amusement. Already I can perceive, from the +expressions of some critics, that, so far as they are concerned, I +might just as well not have written a word. Therefore at this point I +pause, in order to insist once more upon what I began by saying. + +The burden of your criticism is: 'Human nature is always the same. I +know my faults. But it is useless to tell me about them. I can't alter +them. I was born like that.' The fatal weakness of this argument is, +first, that it is based on a complete falsity; and second, that it puts +you in an untenable position. Human nature _does_ change. Nothing can be +more unscientific, more hopelessly mediæval, than to imagine that it +does not. It changes like everything else. You can't see it change. +True! But then you can't see the grass growing--not unless you arise +very early. + +Is human nature the same now as in the days of Babylonian civilisation, +when the social machine was oiled by drenchings of blood? Is it the same +now as in the days of Greek civilisation, when there was no such thing +as romantic love between the sexes? Is it the same now as it was during +the centuries when constant friction had to provide its own cure in the +shape of constant war? Is it the same now as it was on 2nd March 1819, +when the British Government officially opposed a motion to consider the +severity of the criminal laws (which included capital punishment for +cutting down a tree, and other sensible dodges against friction), and +were defeated by a majority of only nineteen votes? Is it the same now +as in the year 1883, when the first S.P.C.C. was formed in England? + +If you consider that human nature is still the same you should instantly +go out and make a bonfire of the works of Spencer, Darwin, and Wallace, +and then return to enjoy the purely jocular side of the present volume. +If you admit that it has changed, let me ask you how it has changed, +unless by the continual infinitesimal efforts, _upon themselves_, of +individual men, like you and me. Did you suppose it was changed by +magic, or by Acts of Parliament, or by the action of groups on persons, +and not of persons on groups? Let me tell you that human nature has +changed since yesterday. Let me tell you that to-day reason has a more +powerful voice in the directing of instinct than it had yesterday. Let +me tell you that to-day the friction of the machines is less screechy +and grinding than it was yesterday. + +'You were born like that, and you can't alter yourself, and so it's no +use talking.' If you really believe this, why make any effort at all? +Why not let the whole business beautifully slide and yield to your +instincts? What object can there be in trying to control yourself in any +manner whatever if you are unalterable? Assert yourself to be +unalterable, and you assert yourself a fatalist. Assert yourself a +fatalist, and you free yourself from all moral responsibility--and other +people, too. Well, then, act up to your convictions, if convictions they +are. If you can't alter yourself, I can't alter myself, and supposing +that I come along and bash you on the head and steal your purse, you +can't blame me. You can only, on recovering consciousness, +affectionately grasp my hand and murmur: 'Don't apologise, my dear +fellow; we can't alter ourselves.' + +This, you say, is absurd. It is. That is one of my innumerable points. +The truth is, you do not really believe that you cannot alter yourself. +What is the matter with you is just what is the matter with me--sheer +idleness. You hate getting up in the morning, and to excuse your +inexcusable indolence you talk big about Fate. Just as 'patriotism is +the last refuge of a scoundrel,' so fatalism is the last refuge of a +shirker. But you deceive no one, least of all yourself. You have not, +rationally, a leg to stand on. At this juncture, because I have made you +laugh, you consent to say: 'I do try, all I can. But I can only alter +myself a very little. By constitution I am mentally idle. I can't help +that, can I?' Well, so long as you are not the only absolutely +unchangeable thing in a universe of change, I don't mind. It is +something for you to admit that you can alter yourself even a very +little. The difference between our philosophies is now only a question +of degree. + +In the application of any system of perfecting the machine, no two +persons will succeed equally. From the disappointed tone of some of your +criticisms it might be fancied that I had advertised a system for making +archangels out of tailors' dummies. Such was not my hope. I have no +belief in miracles. But I know that when a thing is thoroughly well +done it often has the air of being a miracle. My sole aim is to insist +that every man shall perfect his machine to the best of _his_ powers, +not to the best of somebody else's powers. I do not indulge in any hope +that a man can be better than his best self. I am, however, convinced +that every man fails to be his best self a great deal oftener than he +need fail--for the reason that his will-power, be it great or small, is +not directed according to the principles of common sense. + +Common sense will surely lead a man to ask the question: 'Why did my +actions yesterday contradict my reason?' The reply to this question will +nearly always be: 'Because at the critical moment I forgot.' The supreme +explanation of the abortive results of so many efforts at +self-alteration, the supreme explanation of our frequent miserable +scurrying into a doctrine of fatalism, is simple forgetfulness. It is +not force that we lack, but the skill to remember exactly what our +reason would have us do or think at the moment itself. How is this skill +to be acquired? It can only be acquired, as skill at games is acquired, +by practice; by the training of the organ involved to such a point that +the organ acts rightly by instinct instead of wrongly by instinct. There +are degrees of success in this procedure, but there is no such +phenomenon as complete failure. + +Habits which increase friction can be replaced by habits which lessen +friction. Habits which arrest development can be replaced by habits +which encourage development. And as a habit is formed naturally, so it +can be formed artificially, by imitation of the unconscious process, by +accustoming the brain to the new idea. Let me, as an example, refer +again to the minor subject of daily friction, and, within that subject, +to the influence of tone. A man employs a frictional tone through +habit. The frictional tone is an instinct with him. But if he had a +quarter of an hour to reflect before speaking, and if during that +quarter of an hour he could always listen to arguments against the +frictional tone, his use of the frictional tone would rapidly diminish; +his reason would conquer his instinct. As things are, his instinct +conquers his reason by a surprise attack, by taking it unawares. Regular +daily concentration of the brain, for a certain period, upon the +non-frictional tone, and the immense advantages of its use, will +gradually set up in the brain a new habit of thinking about the +non-frictional tone; until at length the brain, disciplined, turns to +the correct act before the old, silly instinct can capture it; and +ultimately a new sagacious instinct will supplant the old one. + +This is the rationale. It applies to all habits. Any person can test its +efficiency in any habit. I care not whether he be of strong or weak +will--he can test it. He will soon see the tremendous difference between +merely 'making a good resolution'--(he has been doing that all his life +without any very brilliant consequences)--and concentrating the brain +for a given time exclusively upon a good resolution. Concentration, the +efficient mastery of the brain--all is there! + + + + +XII + +AN INTEREST IN LIFE + + +After a certain period of mental discipline, of deliberate habit-forming +and habit-breaking, such as I have been indicating, a man will begin to +acquire at any rate a superficial knowledge, a nodding acquaintance, +with that wonderful and mysterious affair, his brain, and he will also +begin to perceive how important a factor in daily life is the control of +his brain. He will assuredly be surprised at the miracles which lie +between his collar and his hat, in that queer box that he calls his +head. For the effects that can be accomplished by mere steady, +persistent thinking must appear to be miracles to apprentices in the +practice of thought. When once a man, having passed an unhappy day +because his clumsy, negligent brain forgot to control his instincts at a +critical moment, has said to his brain: 'I will force you, by +concentrating you on that particular point, to act efficiently the next +time similar circumstances arise,' and when he has carried out his +intention, and when the awkward circumstances have recurred, and his +brain, disciplined, has done its work, and so prevented +unhappiness--then that man will regard his brain with a new eye. 'By +Jove!' he will say; 'I've stopped one source of unhappiness, anyway. +There was a time when I should have made a fool of myself in a little +domestic crisis such as to-day's. But I have gone safely through it. I +am all right. She is all right. The atmosphere is not dangerous with +undischarged electricity! And all because my brain, being in proper +condition, watched firmly over my instincts! I must keep this up.' He +will peer into that brain more and more. He will see more and more of +its possibilities. He will have a new and a supreme interest in _life_. +A garden is a fairly interesting thing. But the cultivation of a garden +is as dull as cold mutton compared to the cultivation of a brain; and +wet weather won't interfere with digging, planting, and pruning in the +box. + +In due season the man whose hobby is his brain will gradually settle +down into a daily routine, with which routine he will start the day. The +idea at the back of the mind of the ordinary man (by the ordinary man I +mean the man whose brain is not his hobby) is almost always this: 'There +are several things at present hanging over me--worries, unfulfilled +ambitions, unrealised desires. As soon as these things are definitely +settled, then I shall begin to live and enjoy myself.' That is the +ordinary man's usual idea. He has it from his youth to his old age. He +is invariably waiting for something to happen before he really begins to +live. I am sure that if you are an ordinary man (of course, you aren't, +I know) you will admit that this is true of you; you exist in the hope +that one day things will be sufficiently smoothed out for you to begin +to live. That is just where you differ from the man whose brain is his +hobby. His daily routine consists in a meditation in the following vein: +'This day is before me. The circumstances of this day are my +environment; they are the material out of which, by means of my brain, I +have to live and be happy and to refrain from causing unhappiness in +other people. It is the business of my brain to make use of _this_ +material. My brain is in its box for that sole purpose. Not to-morrow! +Not next year! Not when I have made my fortune! Not when my sick child +is out of danger! Not when my wife has returned to her senses! Not when +my salary is raised! Not when I have passed that examination! Not when +my indigestion is better! But _now!_ To-day, exactly as to-day is! The +facts of to-day, which in my unregeneracy I regarded primarily as +anxieties, nuisances, impediments, I now regard as so much raw material +from which my brain has to weave a tissue of life that is comely.' + +And then he foresees the day as well as he can. His experience teaches +him where he will have difficulty, and he administers to his brain the +lessons of which it will have most need. He carefully looks the machine +over, and arranges it specially for the sort of road which he knows that +it will have to traverse. And especially he readjusts his point of view, +for his point of view is continually getting wrong. He is continually +seeing worries where he ought to see material. He may notice, for +instance, a patch on the back of his head, and he wonders whether it is +the result of age or of disease, or whether it has always been there. +And his wife tells him he must call at the chemist's and satisfy himself +at once. Frightful nuisance! Age! The endless trouble of a capillary +complaint! Calling at the chemist's will make him late at the office! +etc. etc. But then his skilled, efficient brain intervenes: 'What +peculiarly interesting material this mean and petty circumstance yields +for the practice of philosophy and right living!' And again: 'Is _this_ +to ruffle you, O my soul? Will it serve any end whatever that I should +buzz nervously round this circumstance instead of attending to my usual +business?' + +I give this as an example of the necessity of adjusting the point of +view, and of the manner in which a brain habituated by suitable +concentration to correct thinking will come to the rescue in unexpected +contingencies. Naturally it will work with greater certainty in the +manipulation of difficulties that are expected, that can be 'seen coming +'; and preparation for the expected is, fortunately, preparation for the +unexpected. The man who commences his day by a steady contemplation of +the dangers which the next sixteen hours are likely to furnish, and by +arming himself specially against those dangers, has thereby armed +himself, though to a less extent, against dangers which he did not dream +of. But the routine must be fairly elastic. It may be necessary to +commence several days in succession--for a week or for months, +even--with disciplining the brain in one particular detail, to the +temporary neglect of other matters. It is astonishing how you can weed +every inch of a garden path and keep it in the most meticulous order, +and then one morning find in the very middle of it a lusty, full-grown +plant whose roots are positively mortised in granite! All gardeners are +familiar with such discoveries. + +But a similar discovery, though it entails hard labour on him, will not +disgust the man whose hobby is his brain. For the discovery in itself is +part of the material out of which he has to live. If a man is to turn +everything whatsoever into his own calm, dignity, and happiness, he must +make this use even of his own failures. He must look at them as +phenomena of the brain in that box, and cheerfully set about taking +measures to prevent their repetition. All that happens to him, success +or check, will but serve to increase his interest in the contents of +that box. I seem to hear you saying: 'And a fine egotist he'll be!' +Well, he'll be the right sort of egotist. The average man is not half +enough of an egotist. If egotism means a terrific interest in one's +self, egotism is absolutely essential to efficient living. There is no +getting away from that. But if egotism means selfishness, the serious +student of the craft of daily living will not be an egotist for more +than about a year. In a year he will have proved the ineptitude of +egotism. + + + + +XIII + +SUCCESS AND FAILURE + + +I am sadly aware that these brief chapters will be apt to convey, +especially to the trustful and enthusiastic reader, a false impression; +the impression of simplicity; and that when experience has roughly +corrected this impression, the said reader, unless he is most solemnly +warned, may abandon the entire enterprise in a fit of disgust, and for +ever afterwards maintain a cynical and impolite attitude towards all +theories of controlling the human machine. Now, the enterprise is not a +simple one. It is based on one simple principle--the conscious +discipline of the brain by selected habits of thought--but it is just +about as complicated as anything well could be. Advanced golf is child's +play compared to it. The man who briefly says to himself: 'I will get +up at 8, and from 8.30 to 9 I will examine and control my brain, and so +my life will at once be instantly improved out of recognition'--that man +is destined to unpleasant surprises. Progress will be slow. Progress may +appear to be quite rapid at first, and then a period of futility may set +in, and the would-be vanquisher of his brain may suffer a series of the +most deadly defeats. And in his pessimism he may imagine that all his +pains have gone for nothing, and that the unserious loungers in +exhibition gardens and readers of novels in parlours are in the right of +it after all. He may even feel rather ashamed of himself for having +been, as he thinks, taken in by specious promises, like the purchaser of +a quack medicine. + +The conviction that great effort has been made and no progress achieved +is the chief of the dangers that affront the beginner in +machine-tending. It is, I will assert positively, in every case a +conviction unjustified by the facts, and usually it is the mere result +of reaction after fatigue, encouraged by the instinct for laziness. I do +not think it will survive an impartial examination; but I know that a +man, in order to find an excuse for abandoning further effort, is +capable of convincing himself that past effort has yielded no fruit at +all. So curious is the human machine. I beg every student of himself to +consider this remark with all the intellectual honesty at his disposal. +It is a grave warning. + +When the machine-tender observes that he is frequently changing his +point of view; when he notices that what he regarded as the kernel of +the difficulty yesterday has sunk to a triviality to-day, being replaced +by a fresh phenomenon; when he arises one morning and by means of a +new, unexpected glimpse into the recesses of the machine perceives that +hitherto he has been quite wrong and must begin again; when he wonders +how on earth he could have been so blind and so stupid as not to see +what now he sees; when the new vision is veiled by new disappointments +and narrowed by continual reservations; when he is overwhelmed by the +complexity of his undertaking--then let him unhearten himself, for he is +succeeding. The history of success in any art--and machine-tending is an +art--is a history of recommencements, of the dispersal and reforming of +doubts, of an ever-increasing conception of the extent of the territory +unconquered, and an ever-decreasing conception of the extent of the +territory conquered. + +It is remarkable that, though no enterprise could possibly present more +diverse and changeful excitements than the mastering of the brain, the +second great danger which threatens its ultimate success is nothing but +a mere drying-up of enthusiasm for it! One would have thought that in an +affair which concerned him so nearly, in an affair whose results might +be in a very strict sense vital to him, in an affair upon which his +happiness and misery might certainly turn, a man would not weary from +sheer tedium. Nevertheless, it is so. Again and again I have noticed the +abandonment, temporary or permanent, of this mighty and thrilling +enterprise from simple lack of interest. And I imagine that, in +practically all cases save those in which an exceptional original force +of will renders the enterprise scarcely necessary, the interest in it +will languish unless it is regularly nourished from without. Now, the +interest in it cannot be nourished from without by means of conversation +with other brain-tamers. There are certain things which may not be +discussed by sanely organised people; and this is one. The affair is +too intimate, and it is also too moral. Even after only a few minutes' +vocalisation on this subject a deadly infection seems to creep into the +air--the infection of priggishness. (Or am I mistaken, and do I fancy +this horror? No; I cannot believe that I am mistaken.) + +Hence the nourishment must be obtained by reading; a little reading +every day. I suppose there are some thousands of authors who have +written with more or less sincerity on the management of the human +machine. But the two which, for me, stand out easily above all the rest +are Marcus Aurelius Antoninus and Epictetus. Not much has been +discovered since their time. 'The perfecting of life is a power residing +in the soul,' wrote Marcus Aurelius in the ninth book of _To Himself_, +over seventeen hundred years ago. Marcus Aurelius is assuredly regarded +as the greatest of writers in the human machine school, and not to read +him daily is considered by many to be a bad habit. As a confession his +work stands alone. But as a practical 'Bradshaw' of existence, I would +put the discourses of Epictetus before M. Aurelius. Epictetus is +grosser; he will call you a blockhead as soon as look at you; he is +witty, he is even humorous, and he never wanders far away from the +incidents of daily life. He is brimming over with actuality for readers +of the year 1908. He was a freed slave. M. Aurelius was an emperor, and +he had the morbidity from which all emperors must suffer. A finer soul +than Epictetus, he is not, in my view, so useful a companion. Not all of +us can breathe freely in his atmosphere. Nevertheless, he is of course +to be read, and re-read continually. When you have gone through +Epictetus--a single page or paragraph per day, well masticated and +digested, suffices--you can go through M. Aurelius, and then you can +return to Epictetus, and so on, morning by morning, or night by night, +till your life's end. And they will conserve your interest in yourself. + +In the matter of concentration, I hesitate to recommend Mrs. Annie +Besant's _Thought Power_, and yet I should be possibly unjust if I did +not recommend it, having regard to its immense influence on myself. It +is not one of the best books of this astounding woman. It is addressed +to theosophists, and can only be completely understood in the light of +theosophistic doctrines. (To grasp it all I found myself obliged to +study a much larger work dealing with theosophy as a whole.) It contains +an appreciable quantity of what strikes me as feeble sentimentalism, and +also a lot of sheer dogma. But it is the least unsatisfactory manual of +the brain that I have met with. And if the profane reader ignores all +that is either Greek or twaddle to him, there will yet remain for his +advantage a vast amount of very sound information and advice. All these +three books are cheap. + + + + +XIV + +A MAN AND HIS ENVIRONMENT + + +I now come to an entirely different aspect of the whole subject. +Hitherto I have dealt with the human machine as a contrivance for +adapting the man to his environment. My aim has been to show how much +depends on the machine and how little depends on the environment, and +that the essential business of the machine is to utilise, for making the +stuff of life, the particular environment in which it happens to find +itself--and no other! All this, however, does not imply that one must +accept, fatalistically and permanently and passively, any preposterous +environment into which destiny has chanced to throw us. If we carry far +enough the discipline of our brains, we can, no doubt, arrive at +surprisingly good results in no matter what environment. But it would +not be 'right reason' to expend an excessive amount of will-power on +brain-discipline when a slighter effort in a different direction would +produce consequences more felicitous. A man whom fate had pitched into a +canal might accomplish miracles in the way of rendering himself +amphibian; he might stagger the world by the spectacle of his philosophy +under amazing difficulties; people might pay sixpence a head to come and +see him; but he would be less of a nincompoop if he climbed out and +arranged to live definitely on the bank. + +The advantage of an adequate study of the control of the machine, such +as I have outlined, is that it enables the student to judge, with some +certainty, whether the unsatisfactoriness of his life is caused by a +disordered machine or by an environment for which the machine is, in +its fundamental construction, unsuitable. It does help him to decide +justly whether, in the case of a grave difference between them, he, or +the rest of the universe, is in the wrong. And also, if he decides that +he is not in the wrong, it helps him to choose a new environment, or to +modify the old, upon some scientific principle. The vast majority of +people never know, with any precision, why they are dissatisfied with +their sojourn on this planet. They make long and fatiguing excursions in +search of precious materials which all the while are concealed in their +own breasts. They don't know what they want; they only know that they +want something. Or, if they contrive to settle in their own minds what +they do want, a hundred to one the obtaining of it will leave them just +as far off contentment as they were at the beginning! This is a matter +of daily observation: that people are frantically engaged in attempting +to get hold of things which, by universal experience, are hideously +disappointing to those who have obtained possession of them. And still +the struggle goes on, and probably will go on. All because brains are +lying idle! 'It is no trifle that is at stake,' said Epictetus as to the +question of control of instinct by reason. '_It means, Are you in your +senses or are you not_?' In this significance, indubitably the vast +majority of people are not in their senses; otherwise they would not +behave as they do, so vaguely, so happy-go-luckily, so blindly. But the +man whose brain is in working order emphatically _is_ in his senses. + +And when a man, by means of the efficiency of his brain, has put his +reason in definite command over his instincts, he at once sees things in +a truer perspective than was before possible, and therefore he is able +to set a just value upon the various parts which go to make up his +environment. If, for instance, he lives in London, and is aware of +constant friction, he will be led to examine the claims of London as a +Mecca for intelligent persons. He may say to himself: 'There is +something wrong, and the seat of trouble is not in the machine. London +compels me to tolerate dirt, darkness, ugliness, strain, tedious daily +journeyings, and general expensiveness. What does London give me in +exchange?' And he may decide that, as London offers him nothing special +in exchange except the glamour of London and an occasional seat at a +good concert or a bad play, he may get a better return for his +expenditure of brains, nerves, and money in the provinces. He may +perceive, with a certain French novelist, that 'most people of truly +distinguished mind prefer the provinces.' And he may then actually, in +obedience to reason, quit the deceptions of London with a tranquil +heart, sure of his diagnosis. Whereas a man who had not devoted much +time to the care of his mental machinery could not screw himself up to +the step, partly from lack of resolution, and partly because he had +never examined the sources of his unhappiness. A man who, not having +full control of his machine, is consistently dissatisfied with his +existence, is like a man who is being secretly poisoned and cannot +decide with what or by whom. And so he has no middle course between +absolute starvation and a continuance of poisoning. + +As with the environment of place, so with the environment of +individuals. Most friction between individuals is avoidable friction; +sometimes, however, friction springs from such deep causes that no skill +in the machine can do away with it. But how is the man whose brain is +not in command of his existence to judge whether the unpleasantness can +be cured or not, whether it arises in himself or in the other? He simply +cannot judge. Whereas a man who keeps his brain for use and not for idle +amusement will, when he sees that friction persists in spite of his +brain, be so clearly impressed by the advisability of separation as the +sole cure that he will steel himself to the effort necessary for a +separation. One of the chief advantages of an efficient brain is that an +efficient brain is capable of acting with firmness and resolution, +partly, of course, because it has been toned up, but more because its +operations are not confused by the interference of mere instincts. + +Thirdly, there is the environment of one's general purpose in life, +which is, I feel convinced, far more often hopelessly wrong and futile +than either the environment of situation or the environment of +individuals. I will be bold enough to say that quite seventy per cent. +of ambition is never realised at all, and that ninety-nine per cent. of +all realised ambition is fruitless. In other words, that a gigantic +sacrifice of the present to the future is always going on. And here +again the utility of brain-discipline is most strikingly shown. A man +whose first business it is every day to concentrate his mind on the +proper performance of that particular day, must necessarily conserve his +interest in the present. It is impossible that his perspective should +become so warped that he will devote, say, fifty-five years of his +career to problematical preparations for his comfort and his glory +during the final ten years. A man whose brain is his servant, and not +his lady-help or his pet dog, will be in receipt of such daily content +and satisfaction that he will early ask himself the question: 'As for +this ambition that is eating away my hours, what will it give me that I +have not already got?' Further, the steady development of interest in +the hobby (call it!) of common-sense daily living will act as an +automatic test of any ambition. If an ambition survives and flourishes +on the top of that daily cultivation of the machine, then the owner of +the ambition may be sure that it is a genuine and an invincible +ambition, and he may pursue it in full faith; his developed care for the +present will prevent him from making his ambition an altar on which the +whole of the present is to be offered up. + +I shall be told that I want to do away with ambition, and that ambition +is the great motive-power of existence, and that therefore I am an enemy +of society and the truth is not in me. But I do not want to do away with +ambition. What I say is that current ambitions usually result in +disappointment, that they usually mean the complete distortion of a +life. This is an incontestable fact, and the reason of it is that +ambitions are chosen either without knowledge of their real value or +without knowledge of what they will cost. A disciplined brain will at +once show the unnecessariness of most ambitions, and will ensure that +the remainder shall be conducted with reason. It will also convince its +possessor that the ambition to live strictly according to the highest +common sense during the next twenty-four hours is an ambition that needs +a lot of beating. + + + + +XV + +L.S.D. + + +Anybody who really wishes to talk simple truth about money at the +present time is confronted by a very serious practical difficulty. He +must put himself in opposition to the overwhelming body of public +opinion, and resign himself to being regarded either as a _poseur_, a +crank, or a fool. The public is in search of happiness now, as it was a +million years ago. Money is not the principal factor in happiness. It +may be argued whether, as a factor in happiness, money is of +twentieth-rate importance or fiftieth-rate importance. But it cannot be +argued whether money, in point of fact, does or does not of itself bring +happiness. There can be no doubt whatever that money does not bring +happiness. Yet, in face of this incontrovertible and universal truth, +the whole public behaves exactly as if money were the sole or the +principal preliminary to happiness. The public does not reason, and it +will not listen to reason; its blood is up in the money-hunt, and the +philosopher might as well expostulate with an earthquake as try to take +that public by the button-hole and explain. If a man sacrifices his +interest under the will of some dead social tyrant in order to marry +whom he wishes, if an English minister of religion declines twenty-five +thousand dollars a year to go into exile and preach to New York +millionaires, the phenomenon is genuinely held to be so astounding that +it at once flies right round the world in the form of exclamatory +newspaper articles! In an age when such an attitude towards money is +sincere, it is positively dangerous--I doubt if it may not be +harmful--to persist with loud obstinacy that money, instead of being +the greatest, is the least thing in the world. In times of high military +excitement a man may be ostracised if not lynched for uttering opinions +which everybody will accept as truisms a couple of years later, and thus +the wise philosopher holds his tongue--lest it should be cut out. So at +the zenith of a period when the possession of money in absurd masses is +an infallible means to the general respect, I have no intention either +of preaching or of practising quite all that I privately in the matter +of riches. + +It was not always thus. Though there have been previous ages as lustful +for wealth and ostentation as our own, there have also been ages when +money-getting and millionaire-envying were not the sole preoccupations +of the average man. And such an age will undoubtedly succeed to ours. +Few things would surprise me less, in social life, than the upspringing +of some anti-luxury movement, the formation of some league or guild +among the middling classes (where alone intellect is to be found in +quantity), the members of which would bind themselves to stand aloof +from all the great, silly, banal, ugly, and tedious _luxe_-activities of +the time and not to spend more than a certain sum per annum on eating, +drinking, covering their bodies, and being moved about like parcels from +one spot of the earth's surface to another. Such a movement would, and +will, help towards the formation of an opinion which would condemn +lavish expenditure on personal satisfactions as bad form. However, the +shareholders of grand hotels, restaurants, and race-courses of all +sorts, together with popular singers and barristers, etc., need feel no +immediate alarm. The movement is not yet. + +As touching the effect of money on the efficient ordering of the human +machine, there is happily no necessity to inform those who have begun +to interest themselves in the conduct of their own brains that money +counts for very little in that paramount affair. Nothing that really +helps towards perfection costs more than is within the means of every +person who reads these pages. The expenses connected with daily +meditation, with the building-up of mental habits, with the practice of +self-control and of cheerfulness, with the enthronement of reason over +the rabble of primeval instincts--these expenses are really, you know, +trifling. And whether you get that well-deserved rise of a pound a week +or whether you don't, you may anyhow go ahead with the machine; it isn't +a motor-car, though I started by comparing it to one. And even when, +having to a certain extent mastered, through sensible management of the +machine, the art of achieving a daily content and dignity, you come to +the embroidery of life--even the best embroidery of life is not +absolutely ruinous. Meat may go up in price--it has done--but books +won't. Admission to picture galleries and concerts and so forth will +remain quite low. The views from Richmond Hill or Hindhead, or along +Pall Mall at sunset, the smell of the earth, the taste of fruit and of +kisses--these things are unaffected by the machinations of trusts and +the hysteria of stock exchanges. Travel, which after books is the finest +of all embroideries (and which is not to be valued by the mile but by +the quality), is decidedly cheaper than ever it was. All that is +required is ingenuity in one's expenditure. And much ingenuity with a +little money is vastly more profitable and amusing than much money +without ingenuity. + +And all the while as you read this you are saying, with your impatient +sneer: 'It's all very well; it's all very fine talking, _but_ ...' In +brief, you are not convinced. You cannot deracinate that wide-rooted +dogma within your soul that more money means more joy. I regret it. But +let me put one question, and let me ask you to answer it honestly. Your +financial means are greater now than they used to be. Are you happier or +less discontented than you used to be? Taking your existence day by day, +hour by hour, judging it by the mysterious _feel_ (in the chest) of +responsibilities, worries, positive joys and satisfactions, are you +genuinely happier than you used to be? + +I do not wish to be misunderstood. The financial question cannot be +ignored. If it is true that money does not bring happiness, it is no +less true that the lack of money induces a state of affairs in which +efficient living becomes doubly difficult. These two propositions, +superficially perhaps self-contradictory, are not really so. A modest +income suffices for the fullest realisation of the Ego in terms of +content and dignity; but you must live within it. You cannot righteously +ignore money. A man, for instance, who cultivates himself and instructs +a family of daughters in everything except the ability to earn their own +livelihood, and then has the impudence to die suddenly without leaving a +penny--that man is a scoundrel. Ninety--or should I say +ninety-nine?--per cent. of all those anxieties which render proper +living almost impossible are caused by the habit of walking on the edge +of one's income as one might walk on the edge of a precipice. The +majority of Englishmen have some financial worry or other continually, +everlastingly at the back of their minds. The sacrifice necessary to +abolish this condition of things is more apparent than real. All +spending is a matter of habit. + +Speaking generally, a man can contrive, out of an extremely modest +income, to have all that he needs--unless he needs the esteem of snobs. +Habit may, and habit usually does, make it just as difficult to keep a +family on two thousand a year as on two hundred. I suppose that for the +majority of men the suspension of income for a single month would mean +either bankruptcy, the usurer, or acute inconvenience. Impossible, under +such circumstances, to be in full and independent possession of one's +immortal soul! Hence I should be inclined to say that the first +preliminary to a proper control of the machine is the habit of spending +decidedly less than one earns or receives. The veriest automaton of a +clerk ought to have the wherewithal of a whole year as a shield against +the caprices of his employer. It would be as reasonable to expect the +inhabitants of an unfortified city in the midst of a plain occupied by a +hostile army to apply themselves successfully to the study of +logarithms or metaphysics, as to expect a man without a year's income in +his safe to apply himself successfully to the true art of living. + +And the whole secret of relative freedom from financial anxiety lies not +in income, but in expenditure. I am ashamed to utter this antique +platitude. But, like most aphorisms of unassailable wisdom, it is +completely ignored. You say, of course, that it is not easy to leave a +margin between your expenditure and your present income. I know it. I +fraternally shake your hand. Still it is, in most cases, far easier to +lessen one's expenditure than to increase one's income without +increasing one's expenditure. The alternative is before you. However you +decide, be assured that the foundation of philosophy is a margin, and +that the margin can always be had. + + + + +XVI + +REASON, REASON! + + +In conclusion, I must insist upon several results of what I may call the +'intensive culture' of the reason. The brain will not only grow more +effectively powerful in the departments of life where the brain is +supposed specially to work, but it will also enlarge the circle of its +activities. It will assuredly interfere in everything. The student of +himself must necessarily conduct his existence more and more according +to the views of his brain. This will be most salutary and agreeable both +for himself and for the rest of the world. You object. You say it will +be a pity when mankind refers everything to reason. You talk about the +heart. You envisage an entirely reasonable existence as a harsh and +callous existence. Not so. When the reason and the heart come into +conflict the heart is invariably wrong. I do not say that the reason is +always entirely right, but I do say that it is always less wrong than +the heart. The empire of the reason is not universal, but within its +empire reason is supreme, and if other forces challenge it on its own +soil they must take the consequences. Nearly always, when the heart +opposes the brain, the heart is merely a pretty name which we give to +our idleness and our egotism. + +We pass along the Strand and see a respectable young widow standing in +the gutter, with a baby in her arms and a couple of boxes of matches in +one hand. We know she is a widow because of her weeds, and we know she +is respectable by her clothes. We know she is not begging because she is +selling matches. The sight of her in the gutter pains our heart. Our +heart weeps and gives the woman a penny in exchange for a halfpenny box +of matches, and the pain of our heart is thereby assuaged. Our heart has +performed a good action. But later on our reason (unfortunately asleep +at the moment) wakes up and says: 'That baby was hired; the weeds and +matches merely a dodge. The whole affair was a spectacle got up to +extract money from a fool like you. It is as mechanical as a penny in +the slot. Instead of relieving distress you have simply helped to +perpetuate an infamous system. You ought to know that you can't do good +in that offhand way.' The heart gives pennies in the street. The brain +runs the Charity Organisation Society. Of course, to give pennies in the +street is much less trouble than to run the C.O.S. As a method of +producing a quick, inexpensive, and pleasing effect on one's egotism the +C.O.S. is simply not in it with this dodge of giving pennies at random, +without inquiry. Only--which of the two devices ought to be accused of +harshness and callousness? Which of them is truly kind? I bring forward +the respectable young widow as a sample case of the Heart _v_. Brain +conflict. All other cases are the same. The brain is always more kind +than the heart; the brain is always more willing than the heart to put +itself to a great deal of trouble for a very little reward; the brain +always does the difficult, unselfish thing, and the heart always does +the facile, showy thing. Naturally the result of the brain's activity on +society is always more advantageous than the result of the heart's +activity. + +Another point. I have tried to show that, if the reason is put in +command of the feelings, it is impossible to assume an attitude of blame +towards any person whatsoever for any act whatsoever. The habit of +blaming must depart absolutely. It is no argument against this statement +that it involves anarchy and the demolition of society. Even if it did +(which emphatically it does not), that would not affect its truth. All +great truths have been assailed on the ground that to accept them meant +the end of everything. As if that mattered! As I make no claim to be the +discoverer of this truth I have no hesitation in announcing it to be one +of the most important truths that the world has yet to learn. However, +the real reason why many people object to this truth is not because they +think it involves the utter demolition of society (fear of the utter +demolition of society never stopped any one from doing or believing +anything, and never will), but because they say to themselves that if +they can't blame they can't praise. And they do so like praising! If +they are so desperately fond of praising, it is a pity that they don't +praise a little more! There can be no doubt that the average man blames +much more than he praises. His instinct is to blame. If he is satisfied +he says nothing; if he is not, he most illogically kicks up a row. So +that even if the suppression of blame involved the suppression of praise +the change would certainly be a change for the better. But I can +perceive no reason why the suppression of blame should involve the +suppression of praise. On the contrary, I think that the habit of +praising should be +fostered. +(I do not suggest the occasional use of trowels, but the regular use of +salt-spoons.) Anyhow, the triumph of the brain over the natural +instincts (in an ideally organised man the brain and the natural +instincts will never have even a tiff) always means the ultimate triumph +of kindness. + +And, further, the culture of the brain, the constant disciplinary +exercise of the reasoning faculty, means the diminution of misdeeds. (Do +not imagine I am hinting that you are on the verge of murdering your +wife or breaking into your neighbour's house. Although you personally +are guiltless, there is a good deal of sin still committed in your +immediate vicinity.) Said Balzac in _La Cousine Bette_, 'A crime is in +the first instance a defect of reasoning powers.' In the appreciation of +this truth, Marcus Aurelius was, as usual, a bit beforehand with Balzac. +M. Aurelius said, 'No soul wilfully misses truth.' And Epictetus had +come to the same conclusion before M. Aurelius, and Plato before +Epictetus. All wrong-doing is done in the sincere belief that it is the +best thing to do. Whatever sin a man does he does either for his own +benefit or for the benefit of society. At the moment of doing it he is +convinced that it is the only thing to do. He is mistaken. And he is +mistaken because his brain has been unequal to the task of reasoning the +matter out. Passion (the heart) is responsible for all crimes. Indeed, +crime is simply a convenient monosyllable which we apply to what happens +when the brain and the heart come into conflict and the brain is +defeated. That transaction of the matches was a crime, you know. + +Lastly, the culture of the brain must result in the habit of originally +examining all the phenomena of life and conduct, to see what they really +are, and to what they lead. The heart hates progress, because the dear +old thing always wants to do as has always been done. The heart is +convinced that custom is a virtue. The heart of the dirty working man +rebels when the State insists that he shall be clean, for no other +reason than that it is his custom to be dirty. Useless to tell his heart +that, clean, he will live longer! He has been dirty and he will be. The +brain alone is the enemy of prejudice and precedent, which alone are the +enemies of progress. And this habit of originally examining phenomena +is perhaps the greatest factor that goes to the making of personal +dignity; for it fosters reliance on one's self and courage to accept the +consequences of the act of reasoning. Reason is the basis of personal +dignity. + +I finish. I have said nothing of the modifications which the constant +use of the brain will bring about in the _general value of existence_. +Modifications slow and subtle, but tremendous! The persevering will +discover them. It will happen to the persevering that their whole lives +are changed--texture and colour, too! Naught will happen to those who do +not persevere. + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Human Machine, by E. Arnold Bennett + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12811 *** |