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diff --git a/12811-h/12811-h.htm b/12811-h/12811-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1742843 --- /dev/null +++ b/12811-h/12811-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3384 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> + <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Human Machine, by Arnold +Bennett.</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + a {text-decoration: none;} + + P { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: smaller; float: right; clear: right;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem .caesura {vertical-align: -200%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12811 ***</div> + +<h1>THE</h1> +<h1>HUMAN MACHINE</h1> +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>ARNOLD BENNETT</h2> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<p style="text-align: center;"><i>First Published November 1908</i></p> + +<p style="text-align: center;"><i>Second Edition September 1910</i></p> + +<p style="text-align: center;"><i>Third Edition April 1911</i></p> + +<p style="text-align: center;"><i>Fourth Edition August 1912</i></p> + +<p style="text-align: center;"><i>Fifth Edition January 1913</i></p> + +<p style="text-align: center;"><i>Sixth Edition August 1913</i></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<br /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<p><br /> +</p> +<ol style="list-style-type: upper-roman; margin-left: 80px;"> + <li><a href="#I">TAKING ONESELF FOR GRANTED</a></li> + <li><a href="#II">AMATEURS IN THE ART OF LIVING</a></li> + <li><a href="#III">THE BRAIN AS A GENTLEMAN-AT-LARGE</a></li> + <li><a href="#IV">THE FIRST PRACTICAL STEP</a></li> + <li><a href="#V">HABIT-FORMING BY CONCENTRATION</a></li> + <li><a href="#VI">LORD OVER THE NODDLE</a></li> + <li><a href="#VII">WHAT 'LIVING' CHIEFLY IS</a></li> + <li><a href="#VIII">THE DAILY FRICTION</a></li> + <li><a href="#IX">'FIRE!'</a></li> + <li><a href="#X">MISCHIEVOUSLY OVERWORKING IT</a></li> + <li><a href="#XI">AN INTERLUDE</a></li> + <li><a href="#XII">AN INTEREST IN LIFE</a></li> + <li><a href="#XIII">SUCCESS AND FAILURE</a></li> + <li><a href="#XIV">A MAN AND HIS ENVIRONMENT</a></li> + <li><a href="#XV">L.S.D.</a></li> + <li><a href="#XVI">REASON, REASON!</a></li> +</ol> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="I"></a> +<h2>I</h2> +<h2>TAKING ONESELF FOR GRANTED</h2> +<br /> +<p>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?</p> +<p>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 <i>Telegraph</i> 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 <i>ennui</i> +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...?</p> +<p>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 <i>would</i> 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="II"></a> +<h2>II</h2> +<h2>AMATEURS IN THE ART OF LIVING</h2> +<br /> +<p>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.'</p> +<p>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!</p> +<p>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 <i>status quo</i> we have justified +the <i>status quo</i>, and all the time we feel +our insincerity.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <i>en +route</i>, 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.</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="III"></a> +<h2>III</h2> +<h2>THE BRAIN AS A GENTLEMAN-AT-LARGE</h2> +<br /> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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!</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <i>live</i> +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, <i>you</i> 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: +<i>The brain is a servant, exterior to the +central force of the Ego</i>. 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.</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="IV"></a> +<h2>IV</h2> +<h2>THE FIRST PRACTICAL STEP</h2> +<br /> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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, +<i>next</i> time!'</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <i>is</i> +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>I</i> will, and I <i>will</i>.' (Italics here are +indispensable.)</p> +<p>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 <i>you</i>, 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.</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="V"></a> +<h2>V</h2> +<h2>HABIT-FORMING BY CONCENTRATION</h2> +<br /> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <i>living</i>, 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?'</p> +<p>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.</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="VI"></a> +<h2>VI</h2> +<h2>LORD OVER THE NODDLE</h2> +<br /> +<p>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: '<i>In case of +friction, the machine is always at fault</i>.'</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <i>is</i> the moon. At +your age you surely know that. 'But +the Directors <i>ought</i> to have granted my +application,' you insist. Exactly! I +agree. But we are not in a universe of +<i>oughts</i>. You have a special apparatus +within you for dealing with a universe +where <i>oughts</i> 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="VII"></a> +<h2>VII</h2> +<h2>WHAT 'LIVING' CHIEFLY IS</h2> +<br /> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <i>me</i>! 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:—</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="VIII"></a> +<h2>VIII</h2> +<h2>THE DAILY FRICTION</h2> +<br /> +<p>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 +<i>Telegraph</i> 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?'</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <i>have</i> 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="IX"></a> +<h2>IX</h2> +<h2>'FIRE!'</h2> +<br /> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.'</p> +<p>'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 +<i>laissez-aller.</i> 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.</p> +<p>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 <i>can</i> 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!...</p> +<p>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.'</p> +<p>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.</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="X"></a> +<h2>X</h2> +<h2>MISCHIEVOUSLY OVERWORKING IT</h2> +<br /> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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; <i>amour-propre</i> +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.</p> +<p>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.'</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <i>you</i> with +responsibility as a free agent. As your +environment they must be accepted as +inevitable, because they <i>are</i> 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! <i>If we regard ourselves as +free agents, and the personalities surrounding +us as the puppets of determinism</i>, 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.</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="XI"></a> +<h2>XI</h2> +<h2>AN INTERLUDE</h2> +<br /> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <i>does</i> 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.</p> +<p>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?</p> +<p>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, <i>upon themselves</i>, 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.</p> +<p>'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.'</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 +<i>his</i> 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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!</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="XII"></a> +<h2>XII</h2> +<h2>AN INTEREST IN LIFE</h2> +<br /> +<p>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 <i>life</i>. 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.</p> +<p>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 <i>this</i> 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 <i>now!</i> 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.'</p> +<p>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 <i>this</i> 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?'</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="XIII"></a> +<h2>XIII</h2> +<h2>SUCCESS AND FAILURE</h2> +<br /> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.)</p> +<p>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 <i>To Himself</i>, 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.</p> +<p>In the matter of concentration, I hesitate +to recommend Mrs. Annie Besant's +<i>Thought Power</i>, 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.</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="XIV"></a> +<h2>XIV</h2> +<h2>A MAN AND HIS ENVIRONMENT</h2> +<br /> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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. '<i>It means, Are +you in your senses or are you not</i>?' 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 <i>is</i> in his +senses.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="XV"></a> +<h2>XV</h2> +<h2>L.S.D.</h2> +<br /> +<p>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 <i>poseur</i>, 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.</p> +<p>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 <i>luxe</i>-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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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, <i>but</i> ...' 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 +<i>feel</i> (in the chest) of responsibilities, +worries, positive joys and satisfactions, +are you genuinely happier than you used +to be?</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<hr style="height: 2px; width: 45%;" /> +<a name="XVI"></a> +<h2>XVI</h2> +<h2>REASON, REASON!</h2> +<br /> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <i>v</i>. 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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <i>La +Cousine Bette</i>, '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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>I finish. I have said nothing of the +modifications which the constant use of +the brain will bring about in the <i>general +value of existence</i>. 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.</p> +<p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;">THE END</p> +<br /> +<h6>Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty +at the Edinburgh University Press.</h6> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12811 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + |