The Conquest of Happiness
{"WorkMasterId":5236,"WpPageId":252995,"ParentWpPageId":189742,"Slug":"the-conquest-of-happiness","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/bertrand-russell/the-conquest-of-happiness/","RelativeUrl":"theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/bertrand-russell/the-conquest-of-happiness/","HasFullText":true,"RawHtmlLength":441597,"CleanHtmlLength":385487,"Kicker":"Philosophy Work","Title":"The Conquest of Happiness","Deck":"Russell analyzes causes of unhappiness and happiness through work, affection, interests, envy, fear, and outward-facing life.","BackLink":{"Text":"Back to Bertrand Russell","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/bertrand-russell/"},"AuthorCard":{"Label":"Author","Title":"Bertrand Russell","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/bertrand-russell/","MediaHref":"","ImageSrc":"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/bertrand-russell-01-1954-portrait-2.jpg","ImageAlt":"Bertrand Russell Portrait, 1954","FilterTerra":"Western Europe","ClickText":"Bertrand Russell","ClickHref":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/bertrand-russell/","Copies":["1872 CE – 1970 CE","Trellech, Monmouthshire","British analytic philosopher, logician, mathematician, social critic, and Nobel laureate from Trellech whose logicism, theory of descriptions, logical atomism, epistemology, philosophy of language, ethics, pacifism, secular critique, and political writing shaped analytic philosophy and twentieth-century public reason."]},"ContextCards":[{"Label":"Period","Key":"Period:5","Title":"Contemporary History","DateText":"1945 CE – 2065 CE","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/eras-of-thought/philosophers-of-contemporary-history/"},{"Label":"Era","Key":"Era:12","Title":"World War Era","DateText":"1914 CE – 1944 CE","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/eras-of-thought/philosophers-of-modern-history/philosophers-of-the-world-war-era/"},{"Label":"Composition","Title":"1930 CE","Url":"","DateText":""}],"DateNote":"Displayed year is the publication year.","GeoCards":[{"Label":"Region","Key":"Region:1"},{"Label":"Terra Avita","Key":"TerraAvita:1"},{"Label":"Terra Avita Region","Key":"TerraAvitaRegion:2"},{"Label":"Modern Country","Key":"Country:GBR:1"}],"OriginalTitle":"","Language":"English","DisciplineCards":[{"Label":"Primary Discipline","Key":"Discipline:ethics"},{"Label":"Secondary Discipline","Key":"Discipline:philosophy-of-mind"}],"Tradition":"Analytic philosophy, logicism, British empiricism, social criticism, secular humanism, and twentieth-century public reason","FullText":{"Title":"Full Text","Copy":"Public-domain full text from Project Gutenberg eBook #77894 .","Url":"","Label":"","Kicker":"","Cards":[]},"CoreThesis":["Russell analyzes causes of unhappiness and happiness through work, affection, interests, envy, fear, and outward-facing life."],"Classification":{"AlternateTitles":"","KeyConcepts":"The Conquest of Happiness; Bertrand Russell; logicism; descriptions; logical atomism; knowledge; language; science; ethics; politics; religion; public reason","Methodology":"Logical analysis, formal argument, empiricist reconstruction, linguistic analysis, public criticism, historical explanation, and social-philosophical argument.","Structure":"Accepted work page for Russell under the Core Major scope; minor journalism, duplicate anthologies, individual letters, source/testimony pages, and works merely about Russell are excluded."},"Arguments":["Connects Russell\u0027s technical work in logic and language with his epistemology, philosophy of science, ethics, politics, secular criticism, and public writing."],"Influence":{"InfluencedBy":"Frege, Peano, Leibniz, Hume, Mill, Moore, Whitehead, Cantor, Cambridge mathematics, British empiricism, and anti-idealism.","InfluenceOn":""},"Significance":["Part of the Core Major Russell corpus that made him central to analytic philosophy, mathematical logic, public ethics, secular critique, and twentieth-century intellectual life.","Used in debates about reference, logic, mathematics, science, knowledge, mind, language, liberalism, religion, education, power, and public responsibility."],"EvidenceNote":["Accepted as a major public ethics and practical-philosophy book."],"MainSections":[{"Kind":"RawSection","Title":"Full Versions","BodyHtml":"\u003cdiv class=\"dz-philo__full-version-grid\"\u003e\n \u003carticle class=\"dz-philo__full-version-card\"\u003e\n \u003cp class=\"dz-philo__full-version-provider\"\u003eProject Gutenberg\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003ch3 class=\"dz-philo__full-version-title\"\u003eProject Gutenberg eBook #77894\u003c/h3\u003e\n \u003cp class=\"dz-philo__full-version-meta\"\u003eHtmlText · Imported\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003ca class=\"dz-philo__full-version-link\" href=\"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/77894\"\u003eOpen full version\u003c/a\u003e\n \u003c/article\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e"},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Core Thesis","Paragraphs":["Russell analyzes causes of unhappiness and happiness through work, affection, interests, envy, fear, and outward-facing life."]},{"Kind":"FieldSection","Title":"Classification","Fields":[{"Label":"Alternate Titles","Value":""},{"Label":"Key Concepts","Value":"The Conquest of Happiness; Bertrand Russell; logicism; descriptions; logical atomism; knowledge; language; science; ethics; politics; religion; public reason"},{"Label":"Methodology","Value":"Logical analysis, formal argument, empiricist reconstruction, linguistic analysis, public criticism, historical explanation, and social-philosophical argument."},{"Label":"Structure","Value":"Accepted work page for Russell under the Core Major scope; minor journalism, duplicate anthologies, individual letters, source/testimony pages, and works merely about Russell are excluded."}]},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Arguments","Paragraphs":["Connects Russell\u0027s technical work in logic and language with his epistemology, philosophy of science, ethics, politics, secular criticism, and public writing."]},{"Kind":"FieldSection","Title":"Influence","Fields":[{"Label":"Influenced By","Value":"Frege, Peano, Leibniz, Hume, Mill, Moore, Whitehead, Cantor, Cambridge mathematics, British empiricism, and anti-idealism."},{"Label":"Influence On","Value":"Analytic philosophy, mathematical logic, philosophy of language, logical atomism, logical positivism, secular humanism, public philosophy, peace activism, and twentieth-century liberal thought."}]},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Significance","Paragraphs":["Part of the Core Major Russell corpus that made him central to analytic philosophy, mathematical logic, public ethics, secular critique, and twentieth-century intellectual life.","Used in debates about reference, logic, mathematics, science, knowledge, mind, language, liberalism, religion, education, power, and public responsibility."]},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Evidence Note","Paragraphs":["Accepted as a major public ethics and practical-philosophy book."]},{"Kind":"RawSection","Title":"Full Text","BodyHtml":"\u003cp class=\"dz-philo__section-copy dz-philo__full-text-source\"\u003ePublic-domain full text from \u003ca href=\"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/77894\"\u003eProject Gutenberg eBook #77894\u003c/a\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003carticle class=\"dz-philo__full-text-body\"\u003e\r\n\u003ch1\u003eTHE CONQUEST\u003cbr\u003e\nOF\u003cbr\u003e\nHAPPINESS\u003c/h1\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"center sm p4\"\u003eLONDON\u003cbr\u003e\nGEORGE ALLEN \u0026amp; UNWIN LTD\u003cbr\u003e\nMUSEUM STREET\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"center p4 xs\"\u003eFIRST PUBLISHED OCTOBER 1930\u003cbr\u003e\nSECOND IMPRESSION NOVEMBER 1930\u003cbr\u003e\nTHIRD IMPRESSION DECEMBER 1930\u003c/p\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"center p4 xs\"\u003e\u003ci\u003eAll rights reserved\u003c/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\nPRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY\u003cbr\u003e\nUNWIN BROTHERS LTD., WOKING\u003c/p\u003e\n\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry-container\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"stanza\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"hangingindent\"\u003eI think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contained,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eI stand and look at them long and long.\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eThey do not sweat and whine about their condition,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eThey do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eThey do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"hangingindent\"\u003eNot one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"hangingindent\"\u003eNot one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eNot one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"right smcap\"\u003eWalt Whitman\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_9\"\u003e[9]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2 class=\"big\"\u003ePREFACE\u003c/h2\u003e\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\n\u003cp\u003eThis book is not addressed to the learned, or to those who regard a\npractical problem merely as something to be talked about. No profound\nphilosophy or deep erudition will be found in the following pages. I\nhave aimed only at putting together some remarks which are inspired\nby what I hope is common sense. All that I claim for the recipes\noffered to the reader is that they are such as are confirmed by my\nown experience and observation, and that they have increased my own\nhappiness whenever I have acted in accordance with them. On this ground\nI venture to hope that some among those multitudes of men and women\nwho suffer unhappiness without enjoying it, may find their situation\ndiagnosed and a method of escape suggested. It is in the belief that\nmany people who are unhappy could become happy by well-directed effort\nthat I have written this book.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003ch2 class=\"big\"\u003eCONTENTS\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003ctable class=\"sm\" style=\"max-width: 40em\"\u003e\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003cth class=\"chap\"\u003eCHAPTER\u003c/th\u003e\n \u003cth\u003e\u003c/th\u003e\n \u003cth class=\"pag\"\u003ePAGE\u003c/th\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003ePREFACE\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_9\"\u003e9\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003cth class=\"header\" colspan=\"3\"\u003ePART I.—CAUSES OF UNHAPPINESS\u003c/th\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eI.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eWHAT MAKES PEOPLE UNHAPPY?\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_15\"\u003e15\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eII.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eBYRONIC UNHAPPINESS\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_27\"\u003e27\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eIII.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eCOMPETITION\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_45\"\u003e45\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eIV.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eBOREDOM AND EXCITEMENT\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_57\"\u003e57\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eV.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eFATIGUE\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_69\"\u003e69\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eVI.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eENVY\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_83\"\u003e83\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eVII.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eTHE SENSE OF SIN\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_96\"\u003e96\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eVIII.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003ePERSECUTION MANIA\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_111\"\u003e111\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eIX.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eFEAR OF PUBLIC OPINION\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_126\"\u003e126\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003cth class=\"header\" colspan=\"3\"\u003ePART II.—CAUSES OF HAPPINESS\u003c/th\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eX.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eIS HAPPINESS STILL POSSIBLE?\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_143\"\u003e143\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eXI.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eZEST\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_158\"\u003e158\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eXII.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eAFFECTION\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_175\"\u003e175\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eXIII.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eTHE FAMILY\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_186\"\u003e186\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eXIV.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eWORK\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_208\"\u003e208\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eXV.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eIMPERSONAL INTERESTS\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_219\"\u003e219\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eXVI.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eEFFORT AND RESIGNATION\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_230\"\u003e230\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003eXVII.\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eTHE HAPPY MAN\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_241\"\u003e241\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\n \u003ctr\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"chn\"\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"cht\"\u003eINDEX\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003ctd class=\"pag\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Page_249\"\u003e249\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\n \u003c/tr\u003e\n\u003c/table\u003e\n\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_13\"\u003e[13]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"center\"\u003e\u003cb\u003ePART I\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"center lg\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eCAUSES OF UNHAPPINESS\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_15\"\u003e[15]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2 class=\"p2\"\u003eCHAPTER I\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eWHAT MAKES PEOPLE UNHAPPY?\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eAnimals are happy so long as they have health and enough to eat. Human\nbeings, one feels, ought to be, but in the modern world they are not,\nat least in a great majority of cases. If you are unhappy yourself,\nyou will probably be prepared to admit that you are not exceptional\nin this. If you are happy, ask yourself how many of your friends are\nso. And when you have reviewed your friends, teach yourself the art of\nreading faces; make yourself receptive to the moods of those whom you\nmeet in the course of an ordinary day.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry-container\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"stanza\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eA mark in every face I meet,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eMarks of weakness, marks of woe\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-left\"\u003esays Blake. Though the kinds are different, you will find that\nunhappiness meets you everywhere. Let us suppose that you are in New\nYork, the most typically modern of great cities. Stand in a busy\nstreet during working hours, or on a main thoroughfare at a week-end,\nor at a dance of an evening; empty your mind of your own ego, and let\nthe personalities of the strangers about you take possession of you\none after another. You will find that each of these different crowds\nhas its own trouble. In the work-hour crowd you will see anxiety,\nexcessive concentration, dyspepsia, lack of interest\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_16\"\u003e[16]\u003c/span\u003e in anything but\nthe struggle, incapacity for play, unconsciousness of their fellow\ncreatures. On a main road at the week-end you will see men and women,\nall comfortably off, and some very rich, engaged in the pursuit of\npleasure. This pursuit is conducted by all at a uniform pace, that of\nthe slowest car in the procession; it is impossible to see the road for\nthe cars, or the scenery since looking aside would cause an accident;\nall the occupants of all the cars are absorbed in the desire to pass\nother cars, which they cannot do on account of the crowd; if their\nminds wander from this preoccupation, as will happen occasionally to\nthose who are not themselves driving, unutterable boredom seizes upon\nthem and stamps their features with trivial discontent. Once in a way a\ncar-load of coloured people will show genuine enjoyment, but will cause\nindignation by erratic behaviour, and ultimately get into the hands of\nthe police owing to an accident: enjoyment in holiday time is illegal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOr, again, watch people at a gay evening. All come determined to be\nhappy, with the kind of grim resolve with which one determines not to\nmake a fuss at the dentist’s. It is held that drink and petting are the\ngateways to joy, so people get drunk quickly, and try not to notice how\nmuch their partners disgust them. After a sufficient amount of drink,\nmen begin to weep, and to lament how unworthy they are, morally, of\nthe devotion of their mothers. All that alcohol does for them is to\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_17\"\u003e[17]\u003c/span\u003e\nliberate the sense of sin, which reason suppresses in saner moments.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe causes of these various kinds of unhappiness lie partly in the\nsocial system, partly in individual psychology—which, of course, is\nitself to a considerable extent a product of the social system. I\nhave written before about the changes in the social system required\nto promote happiness. Concerning the abolition of war, of economic\nexploitation, of education in cruelty and fear, it is not my intention\nto speak in this volume. To discover a system for the avoidance of war\nis a vital need of our civilization; but no such system has a chance\nwhile men are so unhappy that mutual extermination seems to them less\ndreadful than continued endurance of the light of day. To prevent\nthe perpetuation of poverty is necessary if the benefits of machine\nproduction are to accrue in any degree to those most in need of them;\nbut what is the use of making everybody rich if the rich themselves\nare miserable? Education in cruelty and fear is bad, but no other kind\ncan be given by those who are themselves the slaves of these passions.\nThese considerations lead us to the problem of the individual: what can\na man or woman, here and now, in the midst of our nostalgic society,\ndo to achieve happiness for himself or herself? In discussing this\nproblem, I shall confine my attention to those who are not subject to\nany extreme cause of outward misery. I shall assume a sufficient income\nto secure food and shelter, sufficient health to make\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_18\"\u003e[18]\u003c/span\u003e ordinary bodily\nactivities possible. I shall not consider the great catastrophes, such\nas loss of all one’s children, or public disgrace. There are things to\nbe said about such matters, and they are important things, but they\nbelong to a different order from the things that I wish to say. My\npurpose is to suggest a cure for the ordinary day-to-day unhappiness\nfrom which most people in civilized countries suffer, and which is\nall the more unbearable because, having no obvious external cause, it\nappears inescapable. I believe this unhappiness to be very largely\ndue to mistaken views of the world, mistaken ethics, mistaken habits\nof life, leading to destruction of that natural zest and appetite for\npossible things upon which all happiness, whether of men or animals,\nultimately depends. These are matters which lie within the power of\nthe individual, and I propose to suggest the changes by which his\nhappiness, given average good fortune, may be achieved.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003ePerhaps the best introduction to the philosophy which I wish to\nadvocate will be a few words of autobiography. I was not born happy. As\na child, my favourite hymn was: “Weary of earth and laden with my sin.”\nAt the age of five, I reflected that, if I should live to be seventy,\nI had only endured, so far, a fourteenth part of my whole life, and I\nfelt the long-spread-out boredom ahead of me to be almost unendurable.\nIn adolescence, I hated life and was continually on the verge of\nsuicide, from which, however, I was restrained by the desire\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_19\"\u003e[19]\u003c/span\u003e to know\nmore mathematics. Now, on the contrary, I enjoy life; I might almost\nsay that with every year that passes I enjoy it more. This is due\npartly to having discovered what were the things that I most desired,\nand having gradually acquired many of these things. Partly it is due\nto having successfully dismissed certain objects of desire—such as\nthe acquisition of indubitable knowledge about something or other—as\nessentially unattainable. But very largely it is due to a diminishing\npreoccupation with myself. Like others who had a Puritan education,\nI had the habit of meditating on my sins, follies, and shortcomings.\nI seemed to myself—no doubt justly—a miserable specimen. Gradually\nI learned to be indifferent to myself and my deficiencies; I came to\ncentre my attention increasingly upon external objects: the state\nof the world, various branches of knowledge, individuals for whom I\nfelt affection. External interests, it is true, bring each its own\npossibility of pain: the world may be plunged in war, knowledge in\nsome direction may be hard to achieve, friends may die. But pains\nof these kinds do not destroy the essential quality of life, as do\nthose that spring from disgust with self. And every external interest\ninspires some activity which, so long as the interest remains alive,\nis a complete preventive of \u003ci\u003eennui\u003c/i\u003e. Interest in oneself, on the\ncontrary, leads to no activity of a progressive kind. It may lead to\nthe keeping of a diary, to getting psycho-analysed, or perhaps to\nbecoming a monk. But the monk will not\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_20\"\u003e[20]\u003c/span\u003e be happy until the routine of\nthe monastery has made him forget his own soul. The happiness which\nhe attributes to religion he could have obtained from becoming a\ncrossing-sweeper, provided he were compelled to remain one. External\ndiscipline is the only road to happiness for those unfortunates whose\nself-absorption is too profound to be cured in any other way.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eSelf-absorption is of various kinds. We may take the sinner, the\nnarcissist, and the megalomaniac as three very common types.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWhen I speak of “the sinner”, I do not mean the man who commits sins:\nsins are committed by everyone or no one, according to our definition\nof the word. I mean the man who is absorbed in the consciousness of\nsin. This man is perpetually incurring his own disapproval, which, if\nhe is religious, he interprets as the disapproval of God. He has an\nimage of himself as he thinks he ought to be, which is in continual\nconflict with his knowledge of himself as he is. If, in his conscious\nthought, he has long since discarded the maxims that he was taught\nat his mother’s knee, his sense of sin may be buried deep in his\nunconscious, and only emerge when he is drunk or asleep. Nevertheless,\nit may suffice to take the savour out of everything. At bottom he still\naccepts all the prohibitions he was taught in infancy. Swearing is\nwicked; drinking is wicked; ordinary business shrewdness is wicked;\nabove all, sex is wicked. He does not, of course, abstain\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_21\"\u003e[21]\u003c/span\u003e from any\nof these pleasures, but they are all poisoned for him by the feeling\nthat they degrade him. The one pleasure that he desires with his whole\nsoul is that of being approvingly caressed by his mother, which he can\nremember having experienced in childhood. This pleasure being no longer\nopen to him, he feels that nothing matters; since he \u003ci\u003emust\u003c/i\u003e sin,\nhe decides to sin deeply. When he falls in love he looks for maternal\ntenderness, but cannot accept it, because, owing to the mother-image,\nhe feels no respect for any woman with whom he has sexual relations.\nThen, in his disappointment, he becomes cruel, repents of his cruelty,\nand starts afresh on the dreary round of imagined sin and real remorse.\nThis is the psychology of very many apparently hard-boiled reprobates.\nWhat drives them astray is devotion to an unattainable object (mother\nor mother-substitute) together with the inculcation, in early years, of\na ridiculous ethical code. Liberation from the tyranny of early beliefs\nand affections is the first step towards happiness for these victims of\nmaternal “virtue”.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eNarcissism is, in a sense, the converse of an habitual sense of sin; it\nconsists in the habit of admiring oneself and wishing to be admired.\nUp to a point it is, of course, normal, and not to be deplored; it\nis only in its excesses that it becomes a grave evil. In many women,\nespecially rich Society women, the capacity for feeling love is\ncompletely dried up, and is replaced by a powerful desire that\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_22\"\u003e[22]\u003c/span\u003e all\nmen should love them. When a woman of this kind is sure that a man\nloves her, she has no further use for him. The same thing occurs,\nthough less frequently, with men; the classic example is the hero of\n\u003ci\u003eLiaisons Dangereuses\u003c/i\u003e. When vanity is carried to this height,\nthere is no genuine interest in any other person, and therefore no real\nsatisfaction to be obtained from love. Other interests fail even more\ndisastrously. A narcissist, for example, inspired by the homage paid\nto great painters, may become an art student; but, as painting is for\nhim a mere means to an end, the technique never becomes interesting,\nand no subject can be seen except in relation to self. The result is\nfailure and disappointment, with ridicule instead of the expected\nadulation. The same thing applies to those novelists whose novels\nalways have themselves idealized as heroines. All serious success in\nwork depends upon some genuine interest in the material with which\nthe work is concerned. The tragedy of one successful politician after\nanother is the gradual substitution of narcissism for an interest in\nthe community and the measures for which he stands. The man who is\nonly interested in himself is not admirable, and is not felt to be so.\nConsequently the man whose sole concern with the world is that it shall\nadmire him is not likely to achieve his object. But even if he does, he\nwill not be completely happy, since human instinct is never completely\nself-centred, and the narcissist is limiting himself artificially just\nas truly\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_23\"\u003e[23]\u003c/span\u003e as is the man dominated by a sense of sin. The primitive man\nmight be proud of being a good hunter, but he also enjoyed the activity\nof the chase. Vanity, when it passes beyond a point, kills pleasure\nin every activity for its own sake, and thus leads inevitably to\nlistlessness and boredom. Often its source is diffidence, and its cure\nlies in the growth of self-respect. But this is only to be gained by\nsuccessful activity inspired by objective interests.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe megalomaniac differs from the narcissist by the fact that he wishes\nto be powerful rather than charming, and seeks to be feared rather than\nloved. To this type belong many lunatics and most of the great men in\nhistory. Love of power, like vanity, is a strong element in normal\nhuman nature, and as such is to be accepted; it becomes deplorable\nonly when it is excessive or associated with an insufficient sense of\nreality. Where this occurs it makes a man unhappy or foolish, if not\nboth. The lunatic who thinks he is a crowned head may be, in a sense,\nhappy, but his happiness is not of a kind that any sane person would\nenvy. Alexander the Great was psychologically of the same type as\nthe lunatic, though he possessed the talent to achieve the lunatic’s\ndream. He could not, however, achieve his own dream, which enlarged its\nscope as his achievement grew. When it became clear that he was the\ngreatest conqueror known to fame, he decided that he was a God. Was he\na happy man? His drunkenness, his furious rages, his indifference\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_24\"\u003e[24]\u003c/span\u003e to\nwomen, and his claim to divinity, suggest that he was not. There is\nno ultimate satisfaction in the cultivation of one element of human\nnature at the expense of all the others, nor in viewing all the world\nas raw material for the magnificence of one’s own ego. Usually the\nmegalomaniac, whether insane or nominally sane, is the product of some\nexcessive humiliation. Napoleon suffered at school from inferiority to\nhis schoolfellows, who were rich aristocrats, while he was a penurious\nscholarship boy. When he allowed the return of the \u003ci\u003eémigrés\u003c/i\u003e, he\nhad the satisfaction of seeing his former schoolfellows bowing down\nbefore him. What bliss! Yet it led to the wish to obtain a similar\nsatisfaction at the expense of the Czar, and this led to Saint Helena.\nSince no man can be omnipotent, a life dominated wholly by love of\npower can hardly fail, sooner or later, to meet with obstacles that\ncannot be overcome. The knowledge that this is so can only be prevented\nfrom obtruding on consciousness by some form of lunacy, though if a man\nis sufficiently great he can imprison or execute those who point this\nout to him. Repressions in the political and in the psycho-analytic\nsenses thus go hand in hand. And wherever psycho-analytic repression in\nany marked form takes place, there is no genuine happiness. Power kept\nwithin its proper bounds may add greatly to happiness, but as the sole\nend of life it leads to disaster, inwardly if not outwardly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe psychological causes of unhappiness, it is\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_25\"\u003e[25]\u003c/span\u003e clear, are many and\nvarious. But all have something in common. The typical unhappy man is\none who, having been deprived in youth of some normal satisfaction,\nhas come to value this one kind of satisfaction more than any other,\nand has therefore given to his life a one-sided direction, together\nwith a quite undue emphasis upon the achievement as opposed to the\nactivities connected with it. There is, however, a further development\nwhich is very common in the present day. A man may feel so completely\nthwarted that he seeks no form of satisfaction, but only distraction\nand oblivion. He then becomes a devotee of “pleasure”. That is to say,\nhe seeks to make life bearable by becoming less alive. Drunkenness, for\nexample, is temporary suicide; the happiness that it brings is merely\nnegative, a momentary cessation of unhappiness. The narcissist and the\nmegalomaniac believe that happiness is possible, though they may adopt\nmistaken means of achieving it; but the man who seeks intoxication, in\nwhatever form, has given up hope except in oblivion. In his case, the\nfirst thing to be done is to persuade him that happiness is desirable.\nMen who are unhappy, like men who sleep badly, are always proud of the\nfact. Perhaps their pride is like that of the fox who had lost his\ntail; if so, the way to cure it is to point out to them how they can\ngrow a new tail. Very few men, I believe, will deliberately choose\nunhappiness if they see a way of being happy. I do not deny that such\nmen exist,\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_26\"\u003e[26]\u003c/span\u003e but they are not sufficiently numerous to be important.\nI shall therefore assume that the reader would rather be happy than\nunhappy. Whether I can help him to realize this wish, I do not know;\nbut at any rate the attempt can do no harm.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_27\"\u003e[27]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER II\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eBYRONIC UNHAPPINESS\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIt is common in our day, as it has been in many other periods of the\nworld’s history, to suppose that those among us who are wise have\nseen through all the enthusiasms of earlier times and have become\naware that there is nothing left to live for. The men who hold this\nview are genuinely unhappy, but they are proud of their unhappiness,\nwhich they attribute to the nature of the universe and consider to\nbe the only rational attitude for an enlightened man. Their pride in\ntheir unhappiness makes less sophisticated people suspicious of its\ngenuineness; they think that the man who enjoys being miserable is\nnot miserable. This view is too simple; undoubtedly there is some\nslight compensation in the feeling of superiority and insight which\nthese sufferers have, but it is not sufficient to make up for the\nloss of simpler pleasures. I do not myself think that there is any\nsuperior rationality in being unhappy. The wise man will be as happy\nas circumstances permit, and if he finds the contemplation of the\nuniverse painful beyond a point, he will contemplate something else\ninstead. This is what I wish to prove in the present chapter. I wish\nto persuade the reader that, whatever the arguments may be, reason\nlays no embargo upon happiness; nay, more, I am persuaded that those\nwho quite sincerely attribute their sorrows to their\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_28\"\u003e[28]\u003c/span\u003e views about the\nuniverse are putting the cart before the horse: the truth is that they\nare unhappy for some reason of which they are not aware, and this\nunhappiness leads them to dwell upon the less agreeable characteristics\nof the world in which they live.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eFor modern Americans the point of view that I wish to consider has been\nset forth by Mr. Joseph Wood Krutch in a book called \u003ci\u003eThe Modern\nTemper\u003c/i\u003e; for our grandfathers’ generation it was set forth by Byron;\nfor all time it was set forth by the writer of Ecclesiastes. Mr. Krutch\nsays: “Ours is a lost cause and there is no place for us in the natural\nuniverse, but we are not, for all that, sorry to be human. We should\nrather die as men than live as animals.” Byron says:\u003c/p\u003e\n\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry-container\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"stanza\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"hangingindent\"\u003eThere’s not a joy the world can give like that it takes away,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"hangingindent\"\u003eWhen the glow of early thought declines in feeling’s dull decay.\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-left\"\u003eThe author of Ecclesiastes says:\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"blockquot\"\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWherefore I praised the dead which are already dead more than\nthe living which are yet alive.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eYea, better is he than both they, which hath not yet been, who\nhath not seen the evil work that is done under the sun.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-left\"\u003eAll these three pessimists arrived at these gloomy conclusions after\nreviewing the pleasures of life. Mr. Krutch has lived in the most\nintellectual circles of New York; Byron swam the Hellespont and had\ninnumerable love affairs; the author of Ecclesiastes was even more\nvaried in his pursuit of pleasure: he\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_29\"\u003e[29]\u003c/span\u003e tried wine, he tried music,\n“and that of all sorts”, he built pools of water, he had men-servants\nand maid-servants, and servants born in his house. Even in these\ncircumstances his wisdom departed not from him. Nevertheless he saw\nthat all is vanity, even wisdom.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"blockquot\"\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eAnd I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and\nfolly: I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eFor in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth\nknowledge increaseth sorrow.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-left\"\u003eHis wisdom seems to have annoyed him; he made unsuccessful efforts to\nget rid of it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"blockquot\"\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eI said in mine heart, Go to now, I will prove thee with mirth,\ntherefore enjoy pleasure: and, behold, this also is vanity.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-left\"\u003eBut his wisdom remained with him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"blockquot\"\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThen I said in my heart, As it happeneth to the fool, so it\nhappeneth even to me; and why was I then more wise? Then I said\nin my heart, that this also is vanity.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eTherefore I hated life; because the work that is wrought under\nthe sun is grievous unto me: for all is vanity and vexation of\nspirit.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-left\"\u003eIt is fortunate for literary men that people no longer read anything\nwritten long ago, for if they did they would come to the conclusion\nthat, whatever may be said about pools of water, the making of new\nbooks is certainly vanity. If we can show that the doctrine of\nEcclesiastes is not the only one open to a wise man, we need not\ntrouble ourselves much with\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_30\"\u003e[30]\u003c/span\u003e the later expressions of the same mood.\nIn an argument of this sort we must distinguish between a mood and\nits intellectual expression. There is no arguing with a mood; it can\nbe changed by some fortunate event, or by a change in our bodily\ncondition, but it cannot be changed by argument. I have frequently\nexperienced myself the mood in which I felt that all is vanity; I\nhave emerged from it not by means of any philosophy, but owing to\nsome imperative necessity of action. If your child is ill, you may be\nunhappy, but you will not feel that all is vanity; you will feel that\nthe restoring of the child to health is a matter to be attended to\nregardless of the question whether there is ultimate value in human\nlife or not. A rich man may, and often does, feel that all is vanity,\nbut if he should happen to lose his money, he would feel that his\nnext meal was by no means vanity. The feeling is one born of a too\neasy satisfaction of natural needs. The human animal, like others, is\nadapted to a certain amount of struggle for life, and when by means\nof great wealth \u003ci\u003ehomo sapiens\u003c/i\u003e can gratify all his whims without\neffort, the mere absence of effort from his life removes an essential\ningredient of happiness. The man who acquires easily things for which\nhe feels only a very moderate desire concludes that the attainment of\ndesire does not bring happiness. If he is of a philosophic disposition,\nhe concludes that human life is essentially wretched, since the man who\nhas all he wants is still unhappy. He forgets that to be without\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_31\"\u003e[31]\u003c/span\u003e some\nof the things you want is an indispensable part of happiness.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eSo much for the mood. There are, however, also intellectual arguments\nin Ecclesiastes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"blockquot\"\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-min\"\u003eThere is no new thing under the sun.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-min\"\u003eThere is no remembrance of former things.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-min\"\u003eI hated all my labour which I had taken under the sun: because I\nshould leave it unto the man that shall be after me.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-left\"\u003eIf one were to attempt to set up these arguments in the style of a\nmodern philosopher they would come to something like this: Man is\nperpetually toiling, and matter is perpetually in motion, yet nothing\nabides, although the new thing that comes after it is in no way\ndifferent from what has gone before. A man dies, and his heir reaps the\nbenefits of his labours; the rivers run into the sea, but their waters\nare not permitted to stay there. Over and over again in an endless\npurposeless cycle men and things are born and die without improvement,\nwithout permanent achievement, day after day, year after year. The\nrivers, if they were wise, would stay where they are. Solomon, if he\nwere wise, would not plant fruit trees of which his son is to enjoy the\nfruit.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eBut in another mood how different all this looks. No new thing under\nthe sun? What about skyscrapers, aeroplanes, and the broadcast speeches\nof politicians? What did Solomon\u003ca id=\"FNanchor_1\" href=\"#Footnote_1\" class=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[1]\u003c/a\u003e know about such things? If\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_32\"\u003e[32]\u003c/span\u003e he\ncould have heard on the wireless the speech of the Queen of Sheba\nto her subjects on her return from his dominions, would it not have\nconsoled him among his futile trees and pools? If he could have had a\npress-cutting agency to let him know what the newspapers said about\nthe beauty of his architecture, the comforts of his harem, and the\ndiscomfitures of rival sages in argument with him, could he have gone\non saying that there is no new thing under the sun? It may be that\nthese things would not have wholly cured his pessimism, but he would\nhave had to give it a new expression. Indeed, one of Mr. Krutch’s\ncomplaints of our time is that there are so many new things under\nthe sun. If either the absence or the presence of novelty is equally\nannoying, it would hardly seem that either could be the true cause of\ndespair. Again, take the fact that “all the rivers run into the sea,\nyet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come,\nthither they return again”. Regarded as ground for pessimism, this\nassumes that travel is unpleasant. People go to health resorts in the\nsummer, yet return again unto the place whence they came. This does\nnot prove that it is futile to go to health resorts in the summer. If\nthe waters were endowed with feeling, they would probably enjoy the\nadventurous cycle after the manner of Shelley’s \u003ci\u003eCloud\u003c/i\u003e. As for\nthe painfulness of leaving things to one’s heir, that is a matter that\nmay be looked at from two points of view: from the point of view of\nthe heir it is distinctly less disastrous.\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_33\"\u003e[33]\u003c/span\u003e Nor is the fact that all\nthings pass in itself any ground for pessimism. If they were succeeded\nby worse things, that would be a ground, but if they are succeeded by\nbetter things, that is a reason for optimism. What are we to think\nif, as Solomon maintains, they are succeeded by things exactly like\nthemselves? Does not this make the whole process futile? Emphatically\nnot, unless the various stages of the cycle are themselves painful.\nThe habit of looking to the future and thinking that the whole meaning\nof the present lies in what it will bring forth is a pernicious one.\nThere can be no value in the whole unless there is value in the parts.\nLife is not to be conceived on the analogy of a melodrama in which the\nhero and heroine go through incredible misfortunes for which they are\ncompensated by a happy ending. I live and have my day, my son succeeds\nme and has his day, his son in turn succeeds him. What is there in all\nthis to make a tragedy about? On the contrary, if I lived for ever the\njoys of life would inevitably in the end lose their savour. As it is,\nthey remain perennially fresh.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry-container\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"stanza\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eI warmed both hands before the fire of life;\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eIt sinks, and I am ready to depart.\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-left\"\u003eThis attitude is quite as rational as that of indignation with death.\nIf, therefore, moods were to be decided by reason, there would be quite\nas much reason for cheerfulness as for despair.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e“Ecclesiastes” is tragic; Mr. Krutch’s \u003ci\u003eModern\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_34\"\u003e[34]\u003c/span\u003e Temper\u003c/i\u003e is\npathetic. Mr. Krutch, at bottom, is sad because the old mediæval\ncertainties have crumbled, and also some that are of more recent\norigin. “As for this present unhappy time,” he says, “haunted by ghosts\nfrom a dead world and not yet at home in its own, its predicament is\nnot unlike the predicament of the adolescent who has not yet learned\nto orient himself without reference to the mythology amid which his\nchildhood was passed.” This statement is entirely correct as applied to\na certain section of intellectuals, those, namely, who, having had a\nliterary education, can know nothing of the modern world, and, having\nthroughout their youth been taught to base belief upon emotion, cannot\ndivest themselves of that infantile desire for safety and protection\nwhich the world of science cannot gratify. Mr. Krutch, like most other\nliterary men, is obsessed with the idea that science has not fulfilled\nits promises. He does not, of course, tell us what these promises were,\nbut he seems to think that sixty years ago men like Darwin and Huxley\nexpected something of science which it has not given. I think this is\nan entire delusion, fostered by those writers and clergymen who do\nnot wish their specialties to be thought of little value. That the\nworld contains many pessimists at the present moment is true. There\nhave always been many pessimists whenever there have been many people\nwhose income has diminished. Mr. Krutch, it is true, is an American,\nand American incomes, on the\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_35\"\u003e[35]\u003c/span\u003e whole, have been increased by the War,\nbut throughout the Continent of Europe the intellectual classes have\nsuffered terribly, while the War itself gave everyone a sense of\ninstability. Such social causes have a great deal more to do with the\nmood of an epoch than has its theory as to the nature of the world. Few\nages have been more despairing than the thirteenth century, although\nthat faith which Mr. Krutch so regrets was then firmly entertained by\neveryone except the Emperor and a few great Italian nobles. Thus Roger\nBacon says: “For more sins reign in these days of ours than in any past\nage, and sin is incompatible with wisdom. Let us see all conditions\nin the world, and consider them diligently everywhere: we shall\nfind boundless corruption, and first of all in the Head…. Lechery\ndishonours the whole court, and gluttony is lord of all…. If then\nthis is done in the Head, how is it in the members? See the prelates:\nhow they hunt after money and neglect the cure of souls…. Let us\nconsider the Religious Orders: I exclude none from what I say. See\nhow far they are fallen, one and all, from their right state; and the\nnew Orders (of Friars) are already horribly decayed from their first\ndignity. The whole clergy is intent upon pride, lechery, and avarice:\nand wheresoever clerks are gathered together, as at Paris and Oxford,\nthey scandalize the whole laity with their wars and quarrels and other\nvices…. None care what is done, or how, by hook or by crook, provided\nonly\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_36\"\u003e[36]\u003c/span\u003e that each can fulfil his lust.” Concerning the pagan sages of\nantiquity, he says: “Their lives were beyond all comparison better\nthan ours, both in all decency and in contempt of the world, with all\nits delights and riches and honours; as all men may read in the works\nof Aristotle, Seneca, Tully, Avicenna, Alfarabius, Plato, Socrates,\nand others; and so it was that they attained to the secrets of wisdom\nand found out all knowledge.”\u003ca id=\"FNanchor_2\" href=\"#Footnote_2\" class=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[2]\u003c/a\u003e Roger Bacon’s opinion was that of all\nhis literary contemporaries, not one of whom liked the age in which he\nfound himself. I do not for a moment believe that this pessimism had\nany metaphysical cause. Its causes were war, poverty, and violence.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOne of Mr. Krutch’s most pathetic chapters deals with the subject\nof love. It appears that the Victorians thought very highly of it,\nbut that we with our modern sophistication have come to see through\nit. “For the more skeptical of the Victorians, love performed some\nof the functions of the God whom they had lost. Faced with it, many\nof even the most hard-headed turned, for the moment, mystical. They\nfound themselves in the presence of something which awoke in them\nthat sense of reverence which nothing else claimed, and something\nto which they felt, even in the very depth of their being, that an\nunquestioning loyalty was due. For them love, like God, demanded all\nsacrifices; but like Him, also, it rewarded the believer by investing\nall the phenomena\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_37\"\u003e[37]\u003c/span\u003e of life with a meaning not yet analysed away. We\nhave grown used—more than they—to a Godless universe, but we are not\nyet accustomed to one which is loveless as well, and only when we have\nso become shall we realize what atheism really means.” It is curious\nhow different the Victorian age looks to the young of our time from\nwhat it seemed when one was living in it. I remember two old ladies,\nboth typical of certain aspects of the period, whom I knew well in\nmy youth. One was a Puritan, and the other a Voltairean. The former\nregretted that so much poetry deals with love, which, she maintained,\nis an uninteresting subject. The latter remarked: “Nobody can say\nanything against me, but I always say that it is not so bad to break\nthe seventh commandment as the sixth, because at any rate it requires\nthe consent of the other party.” Neither of these views was quite like\nwhat Mr. Krutch presents as typically Victorian. His ideas are derived\nevidently from certain writers who were by no means in harmony with\ntheir environment. The best example, I suppose, is Robert Browning. I\ncannot, however, resist the conviction that there is something stuffy\nabout love as he conceived it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry-container\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"stanza\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eGod be thanked, the meanest of His creatures\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eBoasts two soul-sides, one to face the world with,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eOne to show a woman when he loves her!\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-left\"\u003eThis assumes that combativeness is the only possible\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_38\"\u003e[38]\u003c/span\u003e attitude towards\nthe world at large. Why? Because the world is cruel, Browning would\nsay. Because it will not accept you at your own valuation, we should\nsay. A couple may form, as the Brownings did, a mutual admiration\nsociety. It is very pleasant to have someone at hand who is sure\nto praise your work, whether it deserves it or not. And Browning\nundoubtedly felt that he was a fine, manly fellow when he denounced\nFitzgerald in no measured terms for having dared not to admire Aurora\nLeigh. I cannot feel that this complete suspension of the critical\nfaculty on both sides is really admirable. It is bound up with fear\nand with the desire to find a refuge from the cold blasts of impartial\ncriticism. Many old bachelors learn to derive the same satisfaction\nfrom their own fireside. I lived too long myself in the Victorian\nage to be a modern according to Mr. Krutch’s standards. I have by no\nmeans lost my belief in love, but the kind of love that I can believe\nin is not the kind that the Victorians admired; it is adventurous and\nopen-eyed, and, while it gives knowledge of good, it does not involve\nforgetfulness of evil, nor does it pretend to be sanctified or holy.\nThe attribution of these qualities to the kind of love that was admired\nwas an outcome of the sex taboo. The Victorian was profoundly convinced\nthat most sex is evil, and had to attach exaggerated adjectives to the\nkind of which he could approve. There was more sex hunger than there\nis now, and this no doubt caused people to exaggerate\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_39\"\u003e[39]\u003c/span\u003e the importance\nof sex just as the ascetics have always done. We are at the present\nday passing through a somewhat confused period, when many people\nhave thrown over the old standards without acquiring new ones. This\nleads them into various troubles, and as their unconscious usually\nstill believes in the old standards, the troubles, when they come,\nproduce despair, remorse, and cynicism. I do not think the number of\npeople to whom this happens is very large, but they are among the most\nvocal people of our time. I believe that if one took the average of\nwell-to-do young people in our day and in the Victorian epoch, one\nwould find that there is now a great deal more happiness in connection\nwith love, and a great deal more genuine belief in the value of love,\nthan there was sixty years ago. The reasons which lead certain persons\nto cynicism are connected with the tyranny of the old ideals over\nthe unconscious, and with the absence of a rational ethic by which\npresent-day people can regulate their conduct. The cure lies not in\nlamentation and nostalgia for the past, but in a more courageous\nacceptance of the modern outlook and a determination to root out\nnominally discarded superstitions from all their obscure hiding-places.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eTo say shortly why one values love is not easy; nevertheless, I will\nmake the attempt. Love is to be valued in the first instance—and this,\nthough not its greatest value, is essential to all the rest—as in\nitself a source of delight.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_40\"\u003e[40]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry-container\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"stanza\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eOh Love! they wrong thee much\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eThat say thy sweet is bitter,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eWhen thy rich fruit is such\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eAs nothing can be sweeter.\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-left\"\u003eThe anonymous author of these lines was not seeking a solution for\natheism, or a key to the universe; he was merely enjoying himself. And\nnot only is love a source of delight, but its absence is a source of\npain. In the second place, love is to be valued because it enhances\nall the best pleasures, such as music, and sunrise in mountains, and\nthe sea under the full moon. A man who has never enjoyed beautiful\nthings in the company of a woman whom he loved has not experienced to\nthe full the magic power of which such things are capable. Again, love\nis able to break down the hard shell of the ego, since it is a form of\nbiological co-operation in which the emotions of each are necessary to\nthe fulfilment of the other’s instinctive purposes. There have been in\nthe world at various times various solitary philosophies, some very\nnoble, some less so. The Stoics and the early Christians believed that\na man could realize the highest good of which human life is capable by\nmeans of his own will alone, or at any rate without \u003ci\u003ehuman\u003c/i\u003e aid;\nothers again have regarded power as the end of life, and yet others\nmere personal pleasure. All these are solitary philosophies in the\nsense that the good is supposed to be something realizable in each\nseparate person, not only in a larger or smaller society of persons.\nAll\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_41\"\u003e[41]\u003c/span\u003e such views, to my mind, are false, and not only in ethical\ntheory, but as expressions of the better part of our instincts. Man\ndepends upon co-operation, and has been provided by nature, somewhat\ninadequately, it is true, with the instinctive apparatus out of which\nthe friendliness required for co-operation can spring. Love is the\nfirst and commonest form of emotion leading to co-operation, and those\nwho have experienced love with any intensity will not be content with\na philosophy that supposes their highest good to be independent of\nthat of the person loved. In this respect parental feeling is even\nmore powerful, but parental feeling at its best is the result of love\nbetween the parents. I do not pretend that love in its highest form is\ncommon, but I do maintain that in its highest form it reveals values\nwhich must otherwise remain unknown, and has itself a value which is\nuntouched by scepticism, although sceptics who are incapable of it may\nfalsely attribute their incapacity to their scepticism.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry-container\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"stanza\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eTrue love is a durable fire,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eIn the mind ever burning,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eNever sick, never dead, never cold,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eFrom itself never turning.\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-left\"\u003eI come next to what Mr. Krutch has to say about tragedy. He contends,\nand in this I cannot but agree with him, that Ibsen’s \u003ci\u003eGhosts\u003c/i\u003e is\ninferior to \u003ci\u003eKing Lear\u003c/i\u003e. “No increased powers of expression, no\ngreater gift for words, could have transformed Ibsen into Shakespeare.\nThe materials out of\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_42\"\u003e[42]\u003c/span\u003e which the latter created his works—his\nconception of human dignity, his sense of the importance of human\npassions, his vision of the amplitude of human life—simply did not\nand could not exist for Ibsen, as they did not and could not exist for\nhis contemporaries. God and Man and Nature had all somehow dwindled\nin the course of the intervening centuries, not because the realistic\ncreed of modern art led us to seek out mean people, but because this\nmeanness of human life was somehow thrust upon us by the operation of\nthat same process which led to the development of realistic theories\nof art by which our vision could be justified.” It is undoubtedly the\ncase that the old-fashioned kind of tragedy which dealt with princes\nand their sorrows is not suitable to our age, and when we try to treat\nin the same manner the sorrows of an obscure individual the effect is\nnot the same. The reason of this is not, however, any deterioration\nin our outlook on life, but quite the reverse. It is due to the fact\nthat we can no longer regard certain individuals as the great ones of\nthe earth, who have a right to tragic passions, while all the rest\nmust merely drudge and toil to produce the magnificence of those few.\nShakespeare says:\u003c/p\u003e\n\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry-container\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"stanza\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eWhen beggars die, there are no comets seen;\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eThe heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-left\"\u003eIn Shakespeare’s day this sentiment, if not literally believed, at\nleast expressed an outlook which was\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_43\"\u003e[43]\u003c/span\u003e practically universal and most\nprofoundly accepted by Shakespeare himself. Consequently the death\nof Cinna the poet is comic, whereas the deaths of Cæsar, Brutus and\nCassius are tragic. The cosmic significance of an individual death\nis lost to us because we have become democratic, not only in outward\nforms, but in our inmost convictions. High tragedy in the present\nday, therefore, has to concern itself rather with the community than\nwith the individual. I would give as an example of what I mean Ernst\nToller’s \u003ci\u003eMassenmench\u003c/i\u003e.\u003ca id=\"FNanchor_3\" href=\"#Footnote_3\" class=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[3]\u003c/a\u003e I do not maintain that this work is as\ngood as the best that has been done in the best ages in the past, but\nI do maintain that it is justly comparable; it is noble, profound and\nactual, concerned with heroic action, and “purging the reader through\npity and terror”, as Aristotle said it should. There are as yet few\nexamples of this modern kind of tragedy, since the old technique and\nthe old traditions have to be abandoned without being replaced by mere\neducated commonplace. To write tragedy, a man must feel tragedy. To\nfeel tragedy, a man must be aware of the world in which he lives, not\nonly with his mind, but with his blood and sinews. Mr. Krutch talks\nthroughout his book at intervals about despair, and one is touched by\nhis heroic acceptance of a bleak world, but the bleakness is due to\nthe fact that he and most literary men have not yet learnt to feel the\nold emotions in response\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_44\"\u003e[44]\u003c/span\u003e to new stimuli. The stimuli exist, but not\nin literary coteries. Literary coteries have no vital contact with the\nlife of the community, and such contact is necessary if men’s feelings\nare to have the seriousness and depth within which both tragedy and\ntrue happiness proceed. To all the talented young men who wander about\nfeeling that there is nothing in the world for them to do, I should\nsay: “Give up trying to write, and, instead, try not to write. Go\nout into the world; become a pirate, a king in Borneo, a labourer in\nSoviet Russia; give yourself an existence in which the satisfaction of\nelementary physical needs will occupy almost all your energies.” I do\nnot recommend this course of action to everyone, but only to those who\nsuffer from the disease which Mr. Krutch diagnoses. I believe that,\nafter some years of such an existence, the ex-intellectual will find\nthat in spite of his efforts he can no longer refrain from writing, and\nwhen this time comes his writing will not seem to him futile.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_45\"\u003e[45]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER III\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eCOMPETITION\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIf you ask any man in America, or any man in business in England, what\nit is that most interferes with his enjoyment of existence, he will\nsay: “The struggle for life.” He will say this in all sincerity; he\nwill believe it. In a certain sense it is true; yet in another, and\nthat a very important sense, it is profoundly false. The struggle for\nlife is a thing which does, of course, occur. It may occur to any of us\nif we are unfortunate. It occurred, for example, to Conrad’s hero Falk,\nwho found himself on a derelict ship, one of the two men among the crew\nwho were possessed of fire-arms, with nothing to eat but the other\nmen. When the two men had finished the meals upon which they could\nagree, a true struggle for life began. Falk won, but was ever after a\nvegetarian. Now that is not what the business man means when he speaks\nof the “struggle for life”. It is an inaccurate phrase which he has\npicked up in order to give dignity to something essentially trivial.\nAsk him how many men he has known in his class of life who have died\nof hunger. Ask him what happened to his friends after they had been\nruined. Everybody knows that a business man who has been ruined is\nbetter off so far as material comforts are concerned than a man who has\nnever been rich enough to have the chance of\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_46\"\u003e[46]\u003c/span\u003e being ruined. What people\nmean, therefore, by the struggle for life is really the struggle for\nsuccess. What people fear when they engage in the struggle is not that\nthey will fail to get their breakfast next morning, but that they will\nfail to outshine their neighbours.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIt is very singular how little men seem to realize that they are not\ncaught in the grip of a mechanism from which there is no escape, but\nthat the treadmill is one upon which they remain merely because they\nhave not noticed that it fails to take them up to a higher level. I\nam thinking, of course, of men in higher walks of business, men who\nalready have a good income and could, if they chose, live on what\nthey have. To do so would seem to them shameful, like deserting from\nthe army in the face of the enemy, though if you ask them what public\ncause they are serving by their work, they will be at a loss to reply\nas soon as they have run through the platitudes to be found in the\nadvertisements of the strenuous life.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eConsider the life of such a man. He has, we may suppose, a charming\nhouse, a charming wife, and charming children. He wakes up early in\nthe morning while they are still asleep and hurries off to his office.\nThere it is his duty to display the qualities of a great executive;\nhe cultivates a firm jaw, a decisive manner of speech, and an air of\nsagacious reserve calculated to impress everybody except the office\nboy. He dictates letters, converses with various\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_47\"\u003e[47]\u003c/span\u003e important persons\non the ’phone, studies the market, and presently has lunch with some\nperson with whom he is conducting or hoping to conduct a deal. The same\nsort of thing goes on all the afternoon. He arrives home, tired, just\nin time to dress for dinner. At dinner he and a number of other tired\nmen have to pretend to enjoy the company of ladies who have no occasion\nto feel tired yet. How many hours it may take the poor man to escape it\nis impossible to foresee. At last he sleeps, and for a few hours the\ntension is relaxed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe working life of this man has the psychology of a hundred-yards\nrace, but as the race upon which he is engaged is one whose only goal\nis the grave, the concentration, which is appropriate enough for a\nhundred yards, becomes in the end somewhat excessive. What does he\nknow about his children? On week-days he is at the office; on Sundays\nhe is at the golf links. What does he know of his wife? When he leaves\nher in the morning, she is asleep. Throughout the evening he and she\nare engaged in social duties which prevent intimate conversation. He\nhas probably no men friends who are important to him, although he has\na number with whom he affects a geniality that he wishes he felt. Of\nspringtime and harvest he knows only as they affect the market; foreign\ncountries he has probably seen, but with eyes of utter boredom. Books\nseem to him futile, and music highbrow. Year by year he grows more\nlonely; his attention grows more concentrated, and\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_48\"\u003e[48]\u003c/span\u003e his life outside\nbusiness more desiccated. I have seen the American of this type in\nlater middle life, in Europe, with his wife and daughters. Evidently\nthey had persuaded the poor fellow that it was time he took a holiday,\nand gave his girls a chance to do the Old World. The mother and\ndaughters in ecstasy surround him and call his attention to each new\nitem that strikes them as characteristic. Paterfamilias, utterly weary,\nutterly bored, is wondering what they are doing in the office at this\nmoment, or what is happening in the baseball world. His womenkind, in\nthe end, give him up, and conclude that males are Philistines. It never\ndawns upon them that he is a victim to their greed; nor, indeed, is\nthis quite the truth, any more than suttee is quite what it appeared to\na European onlooker. Probably in nine cases out of ten the widow was a\nwilling victim, prepared to be burnt for the sake of glory and because\nreligion so ordained. The business man’s religion and glory demand that\nhe should make much money; therefore, like the Hindu widow, he suffers\nthe torment gladly. If the American business man is to be made happier,\nhe must first change his religion. So long as he not only desires\nsuccess, but is whole-heartedly persuaded that it is a man’s duty to\npursue success, and that a man who does not do so is a poor creature,\nso long his life will remain too concentrated and too anxious to be\nhappy. Take a simple matter, such as investments. Almost every American\nwould sooner get\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_49\"\u003e[49]\u003c/span\u003e 8 per cent. from a risky investment than 4 per cent.\nfrom a safe one. The consequence is that there are frequent losses\nof money and continual worry and fret. For my part, the thing that I\nshould wish to obtain from money would be leisure with security. But\nwhat the typical modern man desires to get with it is more money, with\na view to ostentation, splendour, and the outshining of those who have\nhitherto been his equals. The social scale in America is indefinite\nand continually fluctuating. Consequently all the snobbish emotions\nbecome more restless than they are where the social order is fixed,\nand although money in itself may not suffice to make people grand, it\nis difficult to be grand without money. Moreover, money made is the\naccepted measure of brains. A man who makes a lot of money is a clever\nfellow; a man who does not, is not. Nobody likes to be thought a fool.\nTherefore, when the market is in ticklish condition, a man feels the\nway young people feel during an examination.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eI think it should be admitted that an element of genuine though\nirrational fear as to the consequences of ruin frequently enters into\na business man’s anxieties. Arnold Bennett’s Clayhanger, however rich\nhe became, continued to be afraid of dying in the workhouse. I have no\ndoubt that those who have suffered greatly through poverty in their\nchildhood are haunted by terrors lest their children should suffer\nsimilarly, and feel that it is hardly possible to build up enough\nmillions as a bulwark against\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_50\"\u003e[50]\u003c/span\u003e this disaster. Such fears are probably\ninevitable in the first generation, but they are less likely to afflict\nthose who have never known great poverty. They are in any case a minor\nand somewhat exceptional factor in the problem.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe root of the trouble springs from too much emphasis upon competitive\nsuccess as the main source of happiness. I do not deny that the feeling\nof success makes it easier to enjoy life. A painter, let us say, who\nhas been obscure throughout his youth, is likely to become happier if\nhis talent wins recognition. Nor do I deny that money, up to a certain\npoint, is very capable of increasing happiness; beyond that point, I\ndo not think it does so. What I do maintain is that success can only\nbe one ingredient in happiness, and is too dearly purchased if all the\nother ingredients have been sacrificed to obtain it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe source of this trouble is the prevalent philosophy of life in\nbusiness circles. In Europe, it is true, there are still other circles\nthat have prestige. In some countries there is an aristocracy; in all\nthere are the learned professions, and in all but a few of the smaller\ncountries the army and the navy enjoy great respect. Now while it is\ntrue that there is a competitive element in success no matter what a\nman’s profession may be, yet at the same time the kind of thing that\nis respected is not just success, but that excellence, whatever that\nmay be, to which success has been due. A man of science\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_51\"\u003e[51]\u003c/span\u003e may or may\nnot make money; he is certainly not more respected if he does than if\nhe does not. No one is surprised to find an eminent general or admiral\npoor; indeed, poverty in such circumstances is, in a sense, itself an\nhonour. For these reasons, in Europe, the purely monetary competitive\nstruggle is confined to certain circles, and those perhaps not the\nmost influential or the most respected. In America the matter is\notherwise. The Services play too small a part in the national life for\ntheir standards to have any influence. As for the learned professions,\nno outsider can tell whether a doctor really knows much medicine, or\nwhether a lawyer really knows much law, and it is therefore easier\nto judge of their merit by the income to be inferred from their\nstandard of life. As for professors, they are the hired servants of\nbusiness men, and as such win less respect than is accorded to them in\nolder countries. The consequence of all this is that in America the\nprofessional man imitates the business man, and does not constitute a\nseparate type as he does in Europe. Throughout the well-to-do classes,\ntherefore, there is nothing to mitigate the bare undiluted fight for\nfinancial success.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eFrom quite early years American boys feel that this is the only thing\nthat matters, and do not wish to be bothered with any kind of education\nthat is devoid of pecuniary value. Education used to be conceived very\nlargely as a training in the capacity for enjoyment—enjoyment, I mean,\nof those more\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_52\"\u003e[52]\u003c/span\u003e delicate kinds that are not open to wholly uncultivated\npeople. In the eighteenth century it was one of the marks of a\n“gentleman” to take a discriminating pleasure in literature, pictures,\nand music. We nowadays may disagree with his taste, but it was at\nleast genuine. The rich man of the present day tends to be of quite a\ndifferent type. He never reads. If he is creating a picture gallery\nwith a view to enhancing his fame, he relies upon experts to choose his\npictures; the pleasure that he derives from them is not the pleasure\nof looking at them, but the pleasure of preventing some other rich man\nfrom having them. In regard to music, if he happens to be a Jew, he may\nhave genuine appreciation; if not, he will be as uncultivated as he is\nin regard to the other arts. The result of all this is that he does not\nknow what to do with leisure. As he gets richer and richer it becomes\neasier and easier to make money, until at last five minutes a day will\nbring him more than he knows how to spend. The poor man is thus left\nat a loose end as a result of his success. This must inevitably be the\ncase so long as success itself is represented as the purpose of life.\nUnless a man has been taught what to do with success after getting it,\nthe achievement of it must inevitably leave him a prey to boredom.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe competitive habit of mind easily invades regions to which it does\nnot belong. Take, for example, the question of reading. There are two\nmotives for reading a book: one, that you enjoy it; the other,\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_53\"\u003e[53]\u003c/span\u003e that\nyou can boast about it. It has become the thing in America for ladies\nto read (or seem to read) certain books every month; some read them,\nsome read the first chapter, some read the reviews, but all have these\nbooks on their tables. They do not, however, read any masterpieces.\nThere has never been a month when \u003ci\u003eHamlet\u003c/i\u003e or \u003ci\u003eKing Lear\u003c/i\u003e has\nbeen selected by the Book Clubs; there has never been a month when it\nhas been necessary to know about Dante. Consequently the reading that\nis done is entirely of mediocre modern books and never of masterpieces.\nThis also is an effect of competition, not perhaps wholly bad, since\nmost of the ladies in question, if left to themselves, so far from\nreading masterpieces, would read books even worse than those selected\nfor them by their literary pastors and masters.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe emphasis upon competition in modern life is connected with a\ngeneral decay of civilized standards such as must have occurred in Rome\nafter the Augustan age. Men and women appear to have become incapable\nof enjoying the more intellectual pleasures. The art of general\nconversation, for example, brought to perfection in the French salons\nof the eighteenth century, was still a living tradition forty years\nago. It was a very exquisite art, bringing the highest faculties into\nplay for the sake of something completely evanescent. But who in our\nage cares for anything so leisurely? In China the art still flourished\nin perfection ten years ago, but I imagine that the missionary ardour\nof the Nationalists\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_54\"\u003e[54]\u003c/span\u003e has since then swept it completely out of\nexistence. The knowledge of good literature, which was universal among\neducated people fifty or a hundred years ago, is now confined to a\nfew professors. All the quieter pleasures have been abandoned. Some\nAmerican students took me walking in the spring through a wood on the\nborders of their campus; it was filled with exquisite wild flowers, but\nnot one of my guides knew the name of even one of them. What use would\nsuch knowledge be? It could not add to anybody’s income.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe trouble does not lie simply with the individual, nor can a single\nindividual prevent it in his own isolated case. The trouble arises from\nthe generally received philosophy of life, according to which life is\na contest, a competition, in which respect is to be accorded to the\nvictor. This view leads to an undue cultivation of the will at the\nexpense of the senses and the intellect. Or possibly, in saying this,\nwe may be putting the cart before the horse. Puritan moralists have\nalways emphasized the will in modern times, although originally it was\nfaith upon which they laid stress. It may be that ages of Puritanism\nproduced a race in which will had been overdeveloped, while the senses\nand the intellect had been starved, and that such a race adopted a\nphilosophy of competition as the one best suited to its nature. However\nthat may be, the prodigious success of these modern dinosaurs, who,\nlike their prehistoric prototypes, prefer power to intelligence,\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_55\"\u003e[55]\u003c/span\u003e is\ncausing them to be universally imitated: they have become the pattern\nfor the white man everywhere, and this is likely to be increasingly\nthe case for the next hundred years. Those, however, who are not in\nthe fashion may take comfort from the thought that the dinosaurs did\nnot ultimately triumph; they killed each other out, and intelligent\nbystanders inherited their kingdom. Our modern dinosaurs are killing\nthemselves out. They do not, on the average, have so much as two\nchildren per marriage; they do not enjoy life enough to wish to beget\nchildren. At this point the unduly strenuous philosophy which they have\ncarried over from their Puritan forefathers shows itself unadapted to\nthe world. Those whose outlook on life causes them to feel so little\nhappiness that they do not care to beget children are biologically\ndoomed. Before very long they must be succeeded by something gayer and\njollier.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eCompetition considered as the main thing in life is too grim, too\ntenacious, too much a matter of taut muscles and intent will, to make\na possible basis of life for more than one or two generations at most.\nAfter that length of time it must produce nervous fatigue, various\nphenomena of escape, a pursuit of pleasures as tense and as difficult\nas work (since relaxing has become impossible), and in the end a\ndisappearance of the stock through sterility. It is not only work that\nis poisoned by the philosophy of competition; leisure is poisoned\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_56\"\u003e[56]\u003c/span\u003e just\nas much. The kind of leisure which is quiet and restoring to the nerves\ncomes to be felt boring. There is bound to be a continual acceleration\nof which the natural termination would be drugs and collapse. The cure\nfor this lies in admitting the part of sane and quiet enjoyment in a\nbalanced ideal of life.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_57\"\u003e[57]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER IV\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eBOREDOM AND EXCITEMENT\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eBoredom as a factor in human behaviour has received, in my opinion, far\nless attention than it deserves. It has been, I believe, one of the\ngreat motive powers throughout the historical epoch, and is so at the\npresent day more than ever. Boredom would seem to be a distinctively\nhuman emotion. Animals in captivity, it is true, become listless, pace\nup and down, and yawn, but in a state of nature I do not believe that\nthey experience anything analogous to boredom. Most of the time they\nare on the look-out for enemies, or food, or both; sometimes they\nare mating, sometimes they are trying to keep warm. But even when\nthey are unhappy, I do not think that they are bored. Possibly the\nanthropoid apes may resemble us in this respect, as in so many others,\nbut having never lived with them I have not had the opportunity to\nmake the experiment. One of the essentials of boredom consist in the\ncontrast between present circumstances and some other more agreeable\ncircumstances which force themselves irresistibly upon the imagination.\nIt is also one of the essentials of boredom that one’s faculties must\nnot be fully occupied. Running away from enemies who are trying to\ntake one’s life is, I imagine, unpleasant, but certainly not boring.\nA man would not feel bored while he was being executed, unless\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_58\"\u003e[58]\u003c/span\u003e he\nhad almost superhuman courage. In like manner no one has ever yawned\nduring his maiden speech in the House of Lords, with the exception of\nthe late Duke of Devonshire, who was reverenced by their Lordships in\nconsequence. Boredom is essentially a thwarted desire for events, not\nnecessarily pleasant ones, but just occurrences such as will enable the\nvictim of \u003ci\u003eennui\u003c/i\u003e to know one day from another. The opposite of\nboredom, in a word, is not pleasure, but excitement.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe desire for excitement is very deep-seated in human beings,\nespecially in males. I suppose that in the hunting stage it was more\neasily gratified than it has been since. The chase was exciting,\nwar was exciting, courtship was exciting. A savage will manage to\ncommit adultery with a woman while her husband is asleep beside her,\nknowing that it is instant death if the husband wakes. This situation,\nI imagine, is not boring. But with the coming of agriculture life\nbegan to grow dull, except, of course, for the aristocrats, who\nremained, and still remain, in the hunting stage. We hear a great\ndeal about the tedium of machine-minding, but I think the tedium of\nagriculture by old-fashioned methods is at least as great. Indeed,\ncontrary to what most philanthropists maintain, I should say that\nthe machine age has enormously diminished the sum of boredom in the\nworld. Among wage-earners the working hours are not solitary, while\nthe evening hours can be given over to a variety of amusements\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_59\"\u003e[59]\u003c/span\u003e that\nwere impossible in an old-fashioned country village. Consider again\nthe change in lower middle-class life. In old days, after supper, when\nthe wife and daughters had cleared away the things, everybody sat\nround and had what was called “a happy family time”. This meant that\npaterfamilias went to sleep, his wife knitted, and the daughters wished\nthey were dead or at Timbuktu. They were not allowed to read, or to\nleave the room, because the theory was that at that period their father\nconversed with them, which must be a pleasure to all concerned. With\nluck they ultimately married and had a chance to inflict upon their\nchildren a youth as dismal as their own had been. If they did not have\nluck, they developed into old maids, perhaps ultimately into decayed\ngentlewomen—a fate as horrible as any that savages have bestowed upon\ntheir victims. All this weight of boredom should be borne in mind in\nestimating the world of a hundred years ago, and when one goes further\ninto the past the boredom becomes still worse. Imagine the monotony of\nwinter in a mediæval village. People could not read or write, they had\nonly candles to give them light after dark, the smoke of their one fire\nfilled the only room that was not bitterly cold. Roads were practically\nimpassable, so that one hardly ever saw anybody from another village.\nIt must have been boredom as much as anything that led to the practice\nof witch hunts as the sole sport by which winter evenings could be\nenlivened.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_60\"\u003e[60]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWe are less bored than our ancestors were, but we are more afraid of\nboredom. We have come to know, or rather to believe, that boredom\nis not part of the natural lot of man, but can be avoided by a\nsufficiently vigorous pursuit of excitement. Girls nowadays earn\ntheir own living, very largely because this enables them to seek\nexcitement in the evening and to escape “the happy family time”\nthat their grandmothers had to endure. Everybody who can lives in a\ntown; in America, those who cannot, have a car, or at the least a\nmotor-bicycle, to take them to the movies. And of course they have the\nradio in their houses. Young men and young women meet each other with\nmuch less difficulty than was formerly the case, and every housemaid\nexpects at least once a week as much excitement as would have lasted a\nJane Austen heroine throughout a whole novel. As we rise in the social\nscale the pursuit of excitement becomes more and more intense. Those\nwho can afford it are perpetually moving from place to place, carrying\nwith them as they go gaiety, dancing and drinking, but for some reason\nalways expecting to enjoy these more in a new place. Those who have\nto earn a living get their share of boredom, of necessity, in working\nhours, but those who have enough money to be freed from the need of\nwork have as their ideal a life completely freed from boredom. It is\na noble ideal, and far be it from me to decry it, but I am afraid\nthat like other ideals it is\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_61\"\u003e[61]\u003c/span\u003e more difficult of achievement than the\nidealists suppose. After all, the mornings are boring in proportion\nas the previous evenings were amusing. There will be middle age,\npossibly even old age. At twenty men think that life will be over at\nthirty. I, at the age of fifty-eight, can no longer take that view.\nPerhaps it is as unwise to spend one’s vital capital as one’s financial\ncapital. Perhaps some element of boredom is a necessary ingredient in\nlife. A wish to escape from boredom is natural; indeed, all races of\nmankind have displayed it as opportunity occurred. When savages have\nfirst tasted liquor at the hands of the white men, they have found at\nlast an escape from age-old tedium, and, except when the Government\nhas interfered, they have drunk themselves into a riotous death.\nWars, pogroms, and persecutions have all been part of the flight from\nboredom; even quarrels with neighbours have been found better than\nnothing. Boredom is therefore a vital problem for the moralist, since\nat least half the sins of mankind are caused by the fear of it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eBoredom, however, is not to be regarded as wholly evil. There are two\nsorts, of which one is fructifying, while the other is stultifying. The\nfructifying kind arises from the absence of drugs, and the stultifying\nkind from the absence of vital activities. I am not prepared to say\nthat drugs can play no good part in life whatsoever. There are moments,\nfor example, when an opiate will be prescribed by a wise physician,\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_62\"\u003e[62]\u003c/span\u003e\nand I think these moments more frequent than prohibitionists suppose.\nBut the craving for drugs is certainly something which cannot be\nleft to the unfettered operation of natural impulse. And the kind of\nboredom which the person accustomed to drugs experiences when deprived\nof them is something for which I can suggest no remedy except time.\nNow what applies to drugs applies also, within limits, to every kind\nof excitement. A life too full of excitement is an exhausting life,\nin which continually stronger stimuli are needed to give the thrill\nthat has come to be thought an essential part of pleasure. A person\naccustomed to too much excitement is like a person with a morbid\ncraving for pepper, who comes at last to be unable even to taste a\nquantity of pepper which would cause anyone else to choke. There is an\nelement of boredom which is inseparable from the avoidance of too much\nexcitement, and too much excitement not only undermines the health, but\ndulls the palate for every kind of pleasure, substituting titillations\nfor profound organic satisfactions, cleverness for wisdom, and jagged\nsurprises for beauty. I do not want to push to extremes the objection\nto excitement. A certain amount of it is wholesome, but, like almost\neverything else, the matter is quantitative. Too little may produce\nmorbid cravings, too much will produce exhaustion. A certain power of\nenduring boredom is therefore essential to a happy life, and is one of\nthe things that ought to be taught to the young.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_63\"\u003e[63]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eAll great books contain boring portions, and all great lives have\ncontained uninteresting stretches. Imagine a modern American publisher\nconfronted with the Old Testament as a new manuscript submitted to him\nfor the first time. It is not difficult to think what his comments\nwould be, for example, on the genealogies. “My dear sir,” he would say,\n“this chapter lacks pep; you can’t expect your reader to be interested\nin a mere string of proper names of persons about whom you tell him so\nlittle. You have begun your story, I will admit, in fine style, and at\nfirst I was very favourably impressed, but you have altogether too much\nwish to tell it all. Pick out the high lights, take out the superfluous\nmatter, and bring me back your manuscript when you have reduced it to\na reasonable length.” So the modern publisher would speak, knowing the\nmodern reader’s fear of boredom. He would say the same sort of thing\nabout the Confucian classics, the Koran, Marx’s \u003ci\u003eCapital\u003c/i\u003e, and all\nthe other sacred books which have proved to be best sellers. Nor does\nthis apply only to sacred books. All the best novels contain boring\npassages. A novel which sparkles from the first page to the last is\npretty sure not to be a great book. Nor have the lives of great men\nbeen exciting except at a few great moments. Socrates could enjoy a\nbanquet now and again, and must have derived considerable satisfaction\nfrom his conversations while the hemlock was taking effect, but most\nof his life he lived quietly\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_64\"\u003e[64]\u003c/span\u003e with Xanthippe, taking a constitutional\nin the afternoon, and perhaps meeting a few friends by the way. Kant\nis said never to have been more than ten miles from Königsberg in all\nhis life. Darwin, after going round the world, spent the whole of\nthe rest of his life in his own house. Marx, after stirring up a few\nrevolutions, decided to spend the remainder of his days in the British\nMuseum. Altogether it will be found that a quiet life is characteristic\nof great men, and that their pleasures have not been of the sort\nthat would look exciting to the outward eye. No great achievement is\npossible without persistent work, so absorbing and so difficult that\nlittle energy is left over for the more strenuous kinds of amusement,\nexcept such as serve to recuperate physical energy during holidays, of\nwhich Alpine climbing may serve as the best example.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe capacity to endure a more or less monotonous life is one which\nshould be acquired in childhood. Modern parents are greatly to blame\nin this respect; they provide their children with far too many passive\namusements, such as shows and good things to eat, and they do not\nrealize the importance to a child of having one day like another,\nexcept, of course, for somewhat rare occasions. The pleasures of\nchildhood should in the main be such as the child extracts himself from\nhis environment by means of some effort and inventiveness. Pleasures\nwhich are exciting and at the same time involve no physical exertion,\nsuch, for example, as the theatre, should\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_65\"\u003e[65]\u003c/span\u003e occur very rarely. The\nexcitement is in the nature of a drug, of which more and more will come\nto be required, and the physical passivity during the excitement is\ncontrary to instinct. A child develops best when, like a young plant,\nhe is left undisturbed in the same soil. Too much travel, too much\nvariety of impressions, are not good for the young, and cause them\nas they grow up to become incapable of enduring fruitful monotony.\nI do not mean that monotony has any merits of its own; I mean only\nthat certain good things are not possible except where there is a\ncertain degree of monotony. Take, say, Wordsworth’s \u003ci\u003ePrelude\u003c/i\u003e.\nIt will be obvious to every reader that whatever had any value in\nWordsworth’s thoughts and feelings would have been impossible to a\nsophisticated urban youth. A boy or young man who has some serious\nconstructive purpose will endure voluntarily a great deal of boredom\nif he finds that it is necessary by the way. But constructive purposes\ndo not easily form themselves in a boy’s mind if he is living a life\nof distractions and dissipations, for in that case his thoughts will\nalways be directed towards the next pleasure rather than towards the\ndistant achievement. For all these reasons a generation that cannot\nendure boredom will be a generation of little men, of men unduly\ndivorced from the slow processes of nature, of men in whom every vital\nimpulse slowly withers, as though they were cut flowers in a vase.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eI do not like mystical language, and yet I hardly\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_66\"\u003e[66]\u003c/span\u003e know how to express\nwhat I mean without employing phrases that sound poetic rather than\nscientific. Whatever we may wish to think, we are creatures of Earth;\nour life is part of the life of the Earth, and we draw our nourishment\nfrom it just as the plants and animals do. The rhythm of Earth life is\nslow; autumn and winter are as essential to it as spring and summer,\nand rest is as essential as motion. To the child, even more than to\nthe man, it is necessary to preserve some contact with the ebb and\nflow of terrestrial life. The human body has been adapted through the\nages to this rhythm, and religion has embodied something of it in the\nfestival of Easter. I have seen a boy of two years old, who had been\nkept in London, taken out for the first time to walk in green country.\nThe season was winter, and everything was wet and muddy. To the adult\neye there was nothing to cause delight, but in the boy there sprang\nup a strange ecstasy; he kneeled in the wet ground and put his face\nin the grass, and gave utterance to half-articulate cries of delight.\nThe joy that he was experiencing was primitive, simple and massive.\nThe organic need that was being satisfied is so profound that those\nin whom it is starved are seldom completely sane. Many pleasures, of\nwhich we may take gambling as a good example, have in them no element\nof this contact with Earth. Such pleasures, in the instant when they\ncease, leave a man feeling dusty and dissatisfied, hungry for he\nknows not what. Such\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_67\"\u003e[67]\u003c/span\u003e pleasures bring nothing that can be called joy.\nThose, on the other hand, that bring us into contact with the life\nof the Earth have something in them profoundly satisfying; when they\ncease, the happiness that they have brought remains, although their\nintensity while they existed may have been less than that of more\nexciting dissipations. The distinction that I have in mind runs through\nthe whole gamut from the simplest to the most civilized occupations.\nThe two-year-old boy whom I spoke of a moment ago displayed the most\nprimitive possible form of union with the life of Earth. But in a\nhigher form the same thing is to be found in poetry. What makes\nShakespeare’s lyrics supreme is that they are filled with this same joy\nthat made the two-year-old embrace the grass. Consider “Hark, hark, the\nlark”, or “Come unto these yellow sands”; you will find in these poems\nthe civilized expression of the same emotion that in our two-year-old\ncould only find utterance in inarticulate cries. Or, again, consider\nthe difference between love and mere sex attraction. Love is an\nexperience in which our whole being is renewed and refreshed as is that\nof plants by rain after drought. In sex intercourse without love there\nis nothing of this. When the momentary pleasure is ended, there is\nfatigue, disgust, and a sense that life is hollow. Love is part of the\nlife of Earth; sex without love is not.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe special kind of boredom from which modern urban populations suffer\nis intimately bound up\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_68\"\u003e[68]\u003c/span\u003e with their separation from the life of Earth.\nIt makes life hot and dusty and thirsty, like a pilgrimage in the\ndesert. Among those who are rich enough to choose their way of life,\nthe particular brand of unendurable boredom from which they suffer is\ndue, paradoxical as this may seem, to their fear of boredom. In flying\nfrom the fructifying kind of boredom, they fall a prey to the other far\nworse kind. A happy life must be to a great extent a quiet life, for it\nis only in an atmosphere of quiet that true joy can live.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_69\"\u003e[69]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER V\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eFATIGUE\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eFatigue is of many sorts, some of which are a much graver obstacle to\nhappiness than others. Purely physical fatigue, provided it is not\nexcessive, tends if anything to be a cause of happiness; it leads to\nsound sleep and a good appetite, and gives zest to the pleasures that\nare possible on holidays. But when it is excessive it becomes a very\ngrave evil. Peasant women in all but the most advanced communities are\nold at thirty, worn out with excessive toil. Children in the early days\nof industrialism were stunted in their growth and frequently killed\nby overwork in early years. The same thing still happens in China and\nJapan, where industrialism is new; to some extent also in the Southern\nStates of America. Physical labour carried beyond a certain point is\natrocious torture, and it has very frequently been carried so far as to\nmake life all but unbearable. In the most advanced parts of the modern\nworld, however, physical fatigue has been much minimized through the\nimprovement of industrial conditions. The kind of fatigue that is most\nserious in the present day in advanced communities is nervous fatigue.\nThis kind, oddly enough, is most pronounced among the well-to-do, and\ntends to be much less among wage-earners than it is among business men\nand brain-workers.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_70\"\u003e[70]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eTo escape from nervous fatigue in modern life is a very difficult\nthing. In the first place, all through working hours, and still more in\nthe time spent between work and home, the urban worker is exposed to\nnoise, most of which, it is true, he learns not to hear consciously,\nbut which none the less wears him out, all the more owing to the\nsubconscious effort involved in not hearing it. Another thing which\ncauses fatigue without our being aware of it is the constant presence\nof strangers. The natural instinct of man, as of other animals, is to\ninvestigate every stranger of his species, with a view to deciding\nwhether to behave to him in a friendly or hostile manner. This instinct\nhas to be inhibited by those who travel in the underground in the rush\nhour, and the result of inhibiting it is that they feel a general\ndiffused rage against all the strangers with whom they are brought\ninto this involuntary contact. Then there is the hurry to catch the\nmorning train, with the resulting dyspepsia. Consequently, by the time\nthe office is reached and the day’s work begins, the black-coated\nworker already has frayed nerves and a tendency to view the human race\nas a nuisance. His employer, arriving in the same mood, does nothing\nto dissipate it in the employee. Fear of the sack compels respectful\nbehaviour, but this unnatural conduct only adds to the nervous strain.\nIf once a week employees were allowed to pull the employer’s nose\nand otherwise indicate what they thought of him, the nervous tension\nfor them would\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_71\"\u003e[71]\u003c/span\u003e be relieved, but for the employer, who also has his\ntroubles, this would not mend matters. What the fear of dismissal is\nto the employee, the fear of bankruptcy is to the employer. Some,\nit is true, are big enough to be above this fear, but to reach a\ngreat position of this kind they have generally had to pass through\nyears of strenuous struggle, during which they had to be actively\naware of events in all parts of the world and constantly foiling the\nmachinations of their competitors. The result of all this is that when\nsound success comes a man is already a nervous wreck, so accustomed to\nanxiety that he cannot shake off the habit of it when the need for it\nis past. There are, it is true, rich men’s sons, but they generally\nsucceed in manufacturing for themselves anxieties as similar as\npossible to those that they would have suffered if they had not been\nborn rich. By betting and gambling, they incur the displeasure of their\nfathers; by cutting short their sleep for the sake of their amusements,\nthey debilitate their physique; and by the time they settle down, they\nhave become as incapable of happiness as their fathers were before\nthem. Voluntarily or involuntarily, of choice or of necessity, most\nmoderns lead a nerve-racking life, and are continually too tired to be\ncapable of enjoyment without the help of alcohol.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eLeaving on one side those rich men who are merely fools, let us\nconsider the commoner case of those whose fatigue is associated with\nstrenuous work for\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_72\"\u003e[72]\u003c/span\u003e a living. To a great extent fatigue in such cases\nis due to worry, and worry could be prevented by a better philosophy\nof life and a little more mental discipline. Most men and women are\nvery deficient in control over their thoughts. I mean by this that they\ncannot cease to think about worrying topics at times when no action\ncan be taken in regard to them. Men take their business worries to bed\nwith them, and in the hours of the night, when they should be gaining\nfresh strength to cope with to-morrow’s troubles, they are going over\nand over again in their minds problems about which at the moment\nthey can do nothing, thinking about them, not in a way to produce a\nsound line of conduct on the morrow, but in that half-insane way that\ncharacterizes the troubled meditations of insomnia. Something of the\nmidnight madness still clings about them in the morning, clouding their\njudgment, spoiling their temper, and making every obstacle infuriating.\nThe wise man thinks about his troubles only when there is some purpose\nin doing so; at other times he thinks about other things, or, if it is\nnight, about nothing at all. I do not mean to suggest that at a great\ncrisis, for example, when ruin is imminent, or when a man has reason\nto suspect that his wife is deceiving him, it is possible, except to a\nfew exceptionally disciplined minds, to shut out the trouble at moments\nwhen nothing can be done about it. But it is quite possible to shut out\nthe ordinary troubles of ordinary days, except while they have to\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_73\"\u003e[73]\u003c/span\u003e be\ndealt with. It is amazing how much both happiness and efficiency can\nbe increased by the cultivation of an orderly mind, which thinks about\na matter adequately at the right time rather than inadequately at all\ntimes. When a difficult or worrying decision has to be reached, as soon\nas all the data are available give the matter your best thought and\nmake your decision; having made the decision, do not revise it unless\nsome new fact comes to your knowledge. Nothing is so exhausting as\nindecision, and nothing is so futile.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eA great many worries can be diminished by realizing the unimportance\nof the matter which is causing the anxiety. I have done in my time\na considerable amount of public speaking; at first every audience\nterrified me, and nervousness made me speak very badly; I dreaded the\nordeal so much that I always hoped I might break my leg before I had to\nmake a speech, and when it was over I was exhausted from the nervous\nstrain. Gradually I taught myself to feel that it did not matter\nwhether I spoke well or ill, the universe would remain much the same\nin either case. I found that the less I cared whether I spoke well\nor badly, the less badly I spoke, and gradually the nervous strain\ndiminished almost to vanishing point. A great deal of nervous fatigue\ncan be dealt with in this way. Our doings are not so important as we\nnaturally suppose; our successes and failures do not after all matter\nvery much. Even great sorrows can be survived; troubles\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_74\"\u003e[74]\u003c/span\u003e which seem as\nif they must put an end to happiness for life fade with the lapse of\ntime until it becomes almost impossible to remember their poignancy.\nBut over and above these self-centred considerations is the fact that\none’s ego is no very large part of the world. The man who can centre\nhis thoughts and hopes upon something transcending self can find a\ncertain peace in the ordinary troubles of life which is impossible to\nthe pure egoist.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWhat might be called hygiene of the nerves has been much too little\nstudied. Industrial psychology, it is true, has made elaborate\ninvestigations into fatigue, and has proved by careful statistics\nthat if you go on doing something for a sufficiently long time you\nwill ultimately get rather tired—a result which might have been\nguessed without so much parade of science. The study of fatigue by\npsychologists is mainly concerned with muscular fatigue, although there\nare also a certain number of studies of fatigue in school children.\nNone of these, however, touch upon the important problem. The important\nkind of fatigue is always emotional in modern life; purely intellectual\nfatigue, like purely muscular fatigue, produces its own remedy in\nsleep. Any person who has a great deal of intellectual work devoid of\nemotion to do—say, for example, elaborate computations—will sleep off\nat the end of each day the fatigue that that day has brought. The harm\nthat is attributed to overwork is hardly ever due to that cause, but to\nsome kind of worry or anxiety.\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_75\"\u003e[75]\u003c/span\u003e The trouble with emotional fatigue is\nthat it interferes with rest. The more tired a man becomes, the more\nimpossible he finds it to stop. One of the symptoms of approaching\nnervous breakdown is the belief that one’s work is terribly important,\nand that to take a holiday would bring all kinds of disaster. If I\nwere a medical man, I should prescribe a holiday to any patient who\nconsidered his work important. The nervous break-down which appears to\nbe produced by the work is, in fact, in every case that I have ever\nknown of personally, produced by some emotional trouble from which the\npatient attempts to escape by means of his work. He is loath to give\nup his work because, if he does so, he will no longer have anything\nto distract him from the thoughts of his misfortune, whatever it may\nbe. Of course, the trouble may be fear of bankruptcy, and in that case\nhis work is directly connected with his worry, but even then worry is\nlikely to lead him to work so long that his judgment becomes clouded\nand bankruptcy comes sooner than if he worked less. In every case it is\nthe emotional trouble, not the work, that causes the breakdown.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe psychology of worry is by no means simple. I have spoken already of\nmental discipline, namely the habit of thinking of things at the right\ntime. This has its importance, first because it makes it possible to\nget through the day’s work with less expenditure of thought, secondly\nbecause it affords a cure for\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_76\"\u003e[76]\u003c/span\u003e insomnia, and thirdly because it\npromotes efficiency and wisdom in decisions. But methods of this kind\ndo not touch the subconscious or the unconscious, and when a trouble is\ngrave no method is of much avail unless it penetrates below the level\nof consciousness. There has been a great deal of study by psychologists\nof the operation of the unconscious upon the conscious, but much less\nof the operation of the conscious upon the unconscious. Yet the latter\nis of vast importance in the subject of mental hygiene, and must be\nunderstood if rational convictions are ever to operate in the realm of\nthe unconscious. This applies in particular in the matter of worry. It\nis easy enough to tell oneself that such and such a misfortune would\nnot be so very terrible if it happened, but so long as this remains\nmerely a conscious conviction it will not operate in the watches of the\nnight, or prevent the occurrence of nightmares. My own belief is that a\nconscious thought can be planted into the unconscious if a sufficient\namount of vigour and intensity is put into it. Most of the unconscious\nconsists of what were once highly emotional conscious thoughts, which\nhave now become buried. It is possible to do this process of burying\ndeliberately, and in this way the unconscious can be led to do a lot of\nuseful work. I have found, for example, that if I have to write upon\nsome rather difficult topic the best plan is to think about it with\nvery great intensity—the greatest intensity of which I am capable—for\na few hours or days,\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_77\"\u003e[77]\u003c/span\u003e and at the end of that time give orders, so to\nspeak, that the work is to proceed underground. After some months I\nreturn consciously to the topic and find that the work has been done.\nBefore I had discovered this technique, I used to spend the intervening\nmonths worrying because I was making no progress; I arrived at the\nsolution none the sooner for this worry, and the intervening months\nwere wasted, whereas now I can devote them to other pursuits. A process\nin many ways analogous can be adopted with regard to anxieties. When\nsome misfortune threatens, consider seriously and deliberately what is\nthe very worst that could possibly happen. Having looked this possible\nmisfortune in the face, give yourself sound reasons for thinking that\nafter all it would be no such very terrible disaster. Such reasons\nalways exist, since at the worst nothing that happens to oneself has\nany cosmic importance. When you have looked for some time steadily at\nthe worst possibility and have said to yourself with real conviction,\n“Well, after all, that would not matter so very much”, you will find\nthat your worry diminishes to a quite extraordinary extent. It may be\nnecessary to repeat the process a few times, but in the end, if you\nhave shirked nothing in facing the worst possible issue, you will find\nthat your worry disappears altogether, and is replaced by a kind of\nexhilaration.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThis is part of a more general technique for the avoidance of fear.\nWorry is a form of fear, and all\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_78\"\u003e[78]\u003c/span\u003e forms of fear produce fatigue. A man\nwho has learnt not to feel fear will find the fatigue of daily life\nenormously diminished. Now fear, in its most harmful form, arises where\nthere is some danger which we are unwilling to face. At odd moments\nhorrible thoughts dart into our minds; what they are depends upon\nthe person, but almost everybody has some kind of lurking fear. With\none man it is cancer, with another financial ruin, with a third the\ndiscovery of some disgraceful secret, a fourth is tormented by jealous\nsuspicions, a fifth is haunted at night by the thought that perhaps the\ntales of hell-fire told him when he was young may be true. Probably all\nthese people employ the wrong technique for dealing with their fear;\nwhenever it comes into their mind, they try to think of something else;\nthey distract their thoughts with amusement or work, or what not. Now\nevery kind of fear grows worse by not being looked at. The effort of\nturning away one’s thoughts is a tribute to the horribleness of the\nspectre from which one is averting one’s gaze; the proper course with\nevery kind of fear is to think about it rationally and calmly, but with\ngreat concentration, until it has become completely familiar. In the\nend familiarity will blunt its terrors; the whole subject will become\nboring, and our thoughts will turn away from it, not, as formerly, by\nan effort of will, but through mere lack of interest in the topic. When\nyou find yourself inclined to brood on anything, no matter what, the\nbest plan\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_79\"\u003e[79]\u003c/span\u003e always is to think about it even more than you naturally\nwould, until at last its morbid fascination is worn off.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOne of the matters in which modern morality is most defective is this\nquestion of fear. It is true that physical courage, especially in\nwar, is expected of men, but other forms of courage are not expected\nof them, and no form of courage is expected of women. A woman who is\ncourageous has to conceal the fact if she wishes men to like her.\nThe man who is courageous in any matter except physical danger is\nalso thought ill of. Indifference to public opinion, for example, is\nregarded as a challenge, and the public does what it can to punish\nthe man who dares to flout its authority. All this is quite opposite\nto what it should be. Every form of courage, whether in men or women,\nshould be admired as much as physical courage is admired in a soldier.\nThe commonness of physical courage among young men is a proof that\ncourage can be produced in response to a public opinion that demands\nit. Given more courage there would be less worry, and therefore less\nfatigue; for a very large proportion of the nervous fatigues from\nwhich men and women suffer at present are due to fears, conscious or\nunconscious.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eA very frequent source of fatigue is love of excitement. If a man could\nspend his leisure in sleep, he would keep fit, but his working hours\nare dreary, and he feels the need of pleasure during his hours of\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_80\"\u003e[80]\u003c/span\u003e\nfreedom. The trouble is that the pleasures which are easiest to obtain\nand most superficially attractive are mostly of a sort to wear out the\nnerves. Desire for excitement, when it goes beyond a point, is a sign\neither of a twisted disposition or of some instinctive dissatisfaction.\nIn the early days of a happy marriage most men feel no need of\nexcitement, but in the modern world marriage often has to be postponed\nfor such a long time that when at last it becomes financially possible\nexcitement has become a habit which can only be kept at bay for a short\ntime. If public opinion allowed men to marry at twenty-one without\nincurring the financial burdens at present involved in matrimony, many\nmen would never get into the way of demanding pleasures as fatiguing\nas their work. To suggest that this should be made possible is,\nhowever, immoral, as may be seen from the fate of Judge Lindsey, who\nhas suffered obloquy, in spite of a long and honourable career, for the\nsole crime of wishing to save young people from the misfortunes that\nthey incur as a result of their elders’ bigotry. I shall not, however,\npursue this topic any further at present, since it comes under the\nheading of Envy, with which we shall be concerned in a later chapter.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eFor the private individual, who cannot alter the laws and institutions\nunder which he lives, it is difficult to cope with the situation that\noppressive moralists created and perpetuate. It is, however, worth\nwhile to realize that exciting pleasures are\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_81\"\u003e[81]\u003c/span\u003e not a road to happiness,\nalthough so long as more satisfying joys remain unattainable a man\nmay find it hardly possible to endure life except by the help of\nexcitement. In such a situation the only thing that a prudent man\ncan do is to ration himself, and not to allow himself such an amount\nof fatiguing pleasure as will undermine his health or interfere with\nhis work. The radical cure for the troubles of the young lies in a\nchange of public morals. In the meantime a young man does well to\nreflect that he will ultimately be in a position to marry, and that he\nwill be unwise if he lives in such a way as to make a happy marriage\nimpossible, which may easily happen through frayed nerves and an\nacquired incapacity for the gentler pleasures.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOne of the worst features of nervous fatigue is that it acts as a\nsort of screen between a man and the outside world. Impressions reach\nhim, as it were, muffled and muted; he no longer notices people\nexcept to be irritated by small tricks or mannerisms; he derives no\npleasure from his meals or from the sunshine, but tends to become\ntensely concentrated upon a few objects and indifferent to all the\nrest. This state of affairs makes it impossible to rest, so that\nfatigue continually increases until it reaches a point where medical\ntreatment is required. All this is at bottom a penalty for having lost\nthat contact with Earth of which we spoke in the preceding chapter.\nBut how such contact is to be preserved in\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_82\"\u003e[82]\u003c/span\u003e our great modern urban\nagglomerations of population, it is by no means easy to see. However,\nhere again we find ourselves upon the fringe of large social questions\nwith which in this volume it is not my intention to deal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_83\"\u003e[83]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER VI\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eENVY\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eNext to worry probably one of the most potent causes of unhappiness is\nenvy. Envy is, I should say, one of the most universal and deep-seated\nof human passions. It is very noticeable in children before they are a\nyear old, and has to be treated with the most tender respect by every\neducator. The very slightest appearance of favouring one child at the\nexpense of another is instantly observed and resented. Distributive\njustice, absolute, rigid, and unvarying, must be observed by anyone who\nhas children to deal with. But children are only slightly more open in\ntheir expressions of envy, and of jealousy (which is a special form of\nenvy), than are grown-up people. The emotion is just as prevalent among\nadults as among children. Take, for example, maid-servants: I remember\nwhen one of our maids, who was a married woman, became pregnant, and\nwe said that she was not to be expected to lift heavy weights, the\ninstant result was that none of the others would lift heavy weights,\nand any work of that sort that needed doing we had to do ourselves.\nEnvy is the basis of democracy. Heraclitus asserts that the citizens\nof Ephesus ought all to be hanged because they said, “There shall be\nnone first among us”. The democratic movement in Greek States must have\nbeen almost\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_84\"\u003e[84]\u003c/span\u003e wholly inspired by this passion. And the same is true of\nmodern democracy. There is, it is true, an idealistic theory according\nto which democracy is the best form of government. I think myself that\nthis theory is true. But there is no department of practical politics\nwhere idealistic theories are strong enough to cause great changes;\nwhen great changes occur, the theories which justify them are always a\ncamouflage for passion. And the passion that has given driving force\nto democratic theories is undoubtedly, the passion of envy. Read the\nmemoirs of Madame Roland, who is frequently represented as a noble\nwoman inspired by devotion to the people. You will find that what made\nher such a vehement democrat was the experience of being shown into the\nservants’ hall when she had occasion to visit an aristocratic château.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eAmong average respectable women envy plays an extraordinarily large\npart. If you are sitting in the Underground and a well-dressed woman\nhappens to walk along the car, watch the eyes of the other women. You\nwill see that every one of them, with the possible exception of those\nwho are even better dressed, will watch the woman with malevolent\nglances, and will be struggling to draw inferences derogatory to her.\nThe love of scandal is an expression of this general malevolence:\nany story against another woman is instantly believed, even on the\nflimsiest evidence. A lofty morality serves the same purpose: those\nwho have\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_85\"\u003e[85]\u003c/span\u003e a chance to sin against it are envied, and it is considered\nvirtuous to punish them for their sins. This particular form of virtue\nis certainly its own reward.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eExactly the same thing, however, is to be observed among men, except\nthat women regard all other women as their competitors, whereas\nmen as a rule only have this feeling towards other men in the same\nprofession. Have you, reader, ever been so imprudent as to praise an\nartist to another artist? Have you ever praised a politician to another\npolitician of the same party? Have you ever praised an Egyptologist\nto another Egyptologist? If you have, it is a hundred to one that you\nwill have produced an explosion of jealousy. In the correspondence\nof Leibniz and Huyghens there are a number of letters lamenting the\nsupposed fact that Newton had become insane. “Is it not sad”, they\nwrite to each other, “that the incomparable genius of Mr. Newton should\nhave become overclouded by the loss of reason?” And these two eminent\nmen, in one letter after another, wept crocodile tears with obvious\nrelish. As a matter of fact, the event which they were hypocritically\nlamenting had not taken place, though a few examples of eccentric\nbehaviour had given rise to the rumour.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOf all the characteristics of ordinary human nature envy is the\nmost unfortunate; not only does the envious person wish to inflict\nmisfortune and do so whenever he can with impunity, but he is\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_86\"\u003e[86]\u003c/span\u003e also\nhimself rendered unhappy by envy. Instead of deriving pleasure from\nwhat he has, he derives pain from what others have. If he can, he\ndeprives others of their advantages, which to him is as desirable as\nit would be to secure the same advantages himself. If this passion is\nallowed to run riot it becomes fatal to all excellence, and even to the\nmost useful exercise of exceptional skill. Why should a medical man go\nto see his patients in a car when the labourer has to walk to his work?\nWhy should the scientific investigator be allowed to spend his time in\na warm room when others have to face the inclemency of the elements?\nWhy should a man who possesses some rare talent of great importance to\nthe world be saved from the drudgery of his own house-work? To such\nquestions envy finds no answer. Fortunately, however, there is in human\nnature a compensating passion, namely that of admiration. Whoever\nwishes to increase human happiness must wish to increase admiration and\nto diminish envy.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWhat cure is there for envy? For the saint there is the cure of\nselflessness, though even in the case of saints envy of other saints\nis by no means impossible. I doubt whether St. Simeon Stylites would\nhave been wholly pleased if he had learnt of some other saint who had\nstood even longer on an even narrower pillar. But, leaving saints\nout of account, the only cure for envy in the case of ordinary men\nand women is happiness, and the\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_87\"\u003e[87]\u003c/span\u003e difficulty is that envy is itself a\nterrible obstacle to happiness. I think envy is immensely promoted\nby misfortunes in childhood. The child who finds a brother or sister\npreferred before himself acquires the habit of envy, and when he goes\nout into the world looks for injustices of which he is the victim,\nperceives them at once if they occur, and imagines them if they do\nnot. Such a man is inevitably unhappy, and becomes a nuisance to his\nfriends, who cannot be always remembering to avoid imaginary slights.\nHaving begun by believing that no one likes him, he at last by his\nbehaviour makes his belief true. Another misfortune in childhood which\nhas the same result is to have parents without much parental feeling.\nWithout having an unduly favoured brother or sister, a child may\nperceive that the children in other families are more loved by their\nmother and father than he is. This will cause him to hate the other\nchildren and his own parents, and when he grows up he will feel himself\nan Ishmael. Some kinds of happiness are everyone’s natural birthright,\nand to be deprived of them is almost inevitably to become warped and\nembittered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eBut the envious man may say: “What is the good of telling me that the\ncure for envy is happiness? I cannot find happiness while I continue\nto feel envy, and you tell me that I cannot cease to be envious until\nI find happiness.” But real life is never so logical as this. Merely\nto realize\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_88\"\u003e[88]\u003c/span\u003e the causes of one’s own envious feelings is to take a long\nstep towards curing them. The habit of thinking in terms of comparisons\nis a fatal one. When anything pleasant occurs it should be enjoyed\nto the full, without stopping to think that it is not so pleasant as\nsomething else that may possibly be happening to someone else. “Yes,”\nsays the envious man, “this is a sunny day, and it is springtime, and\nthe birds are singing, and the flowers are in bloom, but I understand\nthat the springtime in Sicily is a thousand times more beautiful, that\nthe birds sing more exquisitely in the groves of Helicon, and that\nthe rose of Sharon is more lovely than any in my garden.” And as he\nthinks these thoughts the sun is dimmed, and the birds’ song becomes\na meaningless twitter, and the flowers seem not worth a moment’s\nregard. All the other joys of life he treats in the same way. “Yes,”\nhe will say to himself, “the lady of my heart is lovely, I love her\nand she loves me, but how much more exquisite must have been the Queen\nof Sheba! Ah, if I had but had Solomon’s opportunities!” All such\ncomparisons are pointless and foolish; whether the Queen of Sheba or\nour next-door neighbour be the cause of discontent, either is equally\nfutile. With the wise man, what he has does not cease to be enjoyable\nbecause someone else has something else. Envy, in fact, is one form of\na vice, partly moral, partly intellectual, which consists in seeing\nthings never in themselves, but\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_89\"\u003e[89]\u003c/span\u003e only in their relations. I am earning,\nlet us say, a salary sufficient for my needs. I should be content, but\nI hear that someone else whom I believe to be in no way my superior\nis earning a salary twice as great as mine. Instantly, if I am of an\nenvious disposition, the satisfactions to be derived from what I have\ngrow dim, and I begin to be eaten up with a sense of injustice. For all\nthis the proper cure is mental discipline, the habit of not thinking\nprofitless thoughts. After all, what is more enviable than happiness?\nAnd if I can cure myself of envy I can acquire happiness and become\nenviable. The man who has double my salary is doubtless tortured by the\nthought that someone else in turn has twice as much as he has, and so\nit goes on. If you desire glory, you may envy Napoleon. But Napoleon\nenvied Cæsar, Cæsar envied Alexander, and Alexander, I daresay, envied\nHercules, who never existed. You cannot, therefore, get away from envy\nby means of success alone, for there will always be in history or\nlegend some person even more successful than you are. You can get away\nfrom envy by enjoying the pleasures that come your way, by doing the\nwork that you have to do, and by avoiding comparisons with those whom\nyou imagine, perhaps quite falsely, to be more fortunate than yourself.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eUnnecessary modesty has a great deal to do with envy. Modesty is\nconsidered a virtue, but for my part I am very doubtful whether, in\nits\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_90\"\u003e[90]\u003c/span\u003e more extreme forms, it deserves to be so regarded. Modest people\nneed a great deal of reassuring, and often do not dare to attempt tasks\nwhich they are quite capable of performing. Modest people believe\nthemselves to be outshone by those with whom they habitually associate.\nThey are therefore particularly prone to envy, and, through envy, to\nunhappiness and illwill. For my part, I think there is much to be\nsaid for bringing up a boy to think himself a fine fellow. I do not\nbelieve that any peacock envies another peacock his tail, because every\npeacock is persuaded that his own tail is the finest in the world. The\nconsequence of this is that peacocks are peaceable birds. Imagine how\nunhappy the life of a peacock would be if he had been taught that it\nis wicked to have a good opinion of oneself. Whenever he saw another\npeacock spreading out his tail, he would say to himself: “I must not\nimagine that my tail is better than that, for that would be conceited,\nbut oh, how I wish it were! That odious bird is so convinced of his own\nmagnificence! Shall I pull out some of his feathers? And then perhaps\nI need no longer fear comparison with him.” Or perhaps he would lay\na trap for him, and prove that he was a wicked peacock who had been\nguilty of unpeacockly behaviour, and he would denounce him to the\nassembly of the leaders. Gradually he would establish the principle\nthat peacocks with specially fine tails are almost always wicked, and\nthat the\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_91\"\u003e[91]\u003c/span\u003e wise ruler in the peacock kingdom would seek out the humble\nbird with only a few draggled tail feathers. Having got this principle\naccepted, he would get all the finest birds put to death, and in the\nend a really splendid tail will become only a dim memory of the past.\nSuch is the victory of envy masquerading as morality. But where every\npeacock thinks himself more splendid than any of the others, there is\nno need for all this repression. Each peacock expects to win the first\nprize in the competition, and each, because he values his own peahen,\nbelieves that he has done so.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eEnvy is, of course, closely connected with competition. We do not envy\na good fortune which we conceive as quite hopelessly out of our reach.\nIn an age when the social hierarchy is fixed, the lowest classes do not\nenvy the upper classes so long as the division between rich and poor is\nthought to be ordained by God. Beggars do not envy millionaires, though\nof course they will envy other beggars who are more successful. The\ninstability of social status in the modern world, and the equalitarian\ndoctrines of democracy and socialism, have greatly extended the range\nof envy. For the moment this is an evil, but it is an evil which must\nbe endured in order to arrive at a more just social system. As soon\nas inequalities are thought about rationally they are seen to be\nunjust unless they rest upon some superiority of merit. And as soon\nas they are seen to be unjust, there is no remedy for the resulting\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_92\"\u003e[92]\u003c/span\u003e\nenvy except the removal of the injustice. Our age is therefore one in\nwhich envy plays a peculiarly large part. The poor envy the rich, the\npoorer nations envy the richer nations, women envy men, virtuous women\nenvy those who, though not virtuous, remain unpunished. While it is\ntrue that envy is the chief motive force leading to justice as between\ndifferent classes, different nations, and different sexes, it is at\nthe same time true that the kind of justice to be expected as a result\nof envy is likely to be the worst possible kind, namely that which\nconsists rather in diminishing the pleasures of the fortunate than\nin increasing those of the unfortunate. Passions which work havoc in\nprivate life work havoc in public life also. It is not to be supposed\nthat out of something as evil as envy good results will flow. Those,\ntherefore, who from idealistic reasons desire profound changes in our\nsocial system, and a great increase of social justice, must hope that\nother forces than envy will be instrumental in bringing the changes\nabout.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eAll bad things are interconnected, and any one of them is liable to be\nthe cause of any other; more particularly fatigue is a very frequent\ncause of envy. When a man feels inadequate to the work he has to do,\nhe feels a general discontent which is exceedingly liable to take the\nform of envy towards those whose work is less exacting. One of the ways\nof diminishing envy, therefore, is to diminish fatigue. But by far\nthe most important thing is\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_93\"\u003e[93]\u003c/span\u003e to secure a life which is satisfying to\ninstinct. Much envy that seems purely professional really has a sexual\nsource. A man who is happy in his marriage and his children is not\nlikely to feel much envy of other men because of their greater wealth\nor success, so long as he has enough to bring up his children in what\nhe feels to be the right way. The essentials of human happiness are\nsimple, so simple that sophisticated people cannot bring themselves to\nadmit what it is they really lack. The women we spoke of earlier who\nlook with envy on every well-dressed woman are, one may be sure, not\nhappy in their instinctive life. Instinctive happiness is rare in the\nEnglish-speaking world, especially among women. Civilization in this\nrespect appears to have gone astray. If there is to be less envy, means\nmust be found for remedying this state of affairs, and if no such means\nare found our civilization is in danger of going down to destruction\nin an orgy of hatred. In old days people only envied their neighbours,\nbecause they knew little about anyone else. Now through education\nand the Press they know much in an abstract way about large classes\nof mankind of whom no single individual is among their acquaintance.\nThrough the movies they think they know how the rich live, through\nthe newspapers they know much of the wickedness of foreign nations,\nthrough propaganda they know of the nefarious practices of all whose\nskin has a pigmentation different from their own. Yellows\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_94\"\u003e[94]\u003c/span\u003e hate whites,\nwhites hate blacks, and so on. All this hatred, you may say, is stirred\nup by propaganda, but this is a somewhat shallow explanation. Why is\npropaganda so much more successful when it stirs up hatred than when it\ntries to stir up friendly feeling? The reason is clearly that the human\nheart as modern civilization has made it is more prone to hatred than\nto friendship. And it is prone to hatred because it is dissatisfied,\nbecause it feels deeply, perhaps even unconsciously, that it has\nsomehow missed the meaning of life, that perhaps others, but not we\nourselves, have secured the good things which nature offers for man’s\nenjoyment. The positive sum of pleasures in a modern man’s life is\nundoubtedly greater than was to be found in more primitive communities,\nbut the consciousness of what might be has increased even more.\nWhenever you happen to take your children to the Zoo you may observe in\nthe eyes of the apes, when they are not performing gymnastic feats or\ncracking nuts, a strange strained sadness. One can almost imagine that\nthey feel they ought to become men, but cannot discover the secret of\nhow to do it. On the road of evolution they have lost their way; their\ncousins marched on and they were left behind. Something of the same\nstrain and anguish seems to have entered the soul of civilized man. He\nknows there is something better than himself almost within his grasp,\nyet he does not know where to seek it or how to find it. In despair\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_95\"\u003e[95]\u003c/span\u003e he\nrages against his fellow man, who is equally lost and equally unhappy.\nWe have reached a stage in evolution which is not the final stage. We\nmust pass through it quickly, for if we do not, most of us will perish\nby the way, and the others will be lost in a forest of doubt and fear.\nEnvy therefore, evil as it is, and terrible as are its effects, is not\nwholly of the devil. It is in part the expression of an heroic pain,\nthe pain of those who walk through the night blindly, perhaps to a\nbetter resting-place, perhaps only to death and destruction. To find\nthe right road out of this despair civilized man must enlarge his heart\nas he has enlarged his mind. He must learn to transcend self, and in so\ndoing to acquire the freedom of the Universe.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_96\"\u003e[96]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER VII\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eTHE SENSE OF SIN\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eConcerning the sense of sin we have already in Chapter I had occasion\nto say something, but we must now go into it more fully, since it is\none of the most important of the underlying psychological causes of\nunhappiness in adult life.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThere is a traditional religious psychology of sin which no modern\npsychologist can accept. It was supposed, especially by Protestants,\nthat conscience reveals to every man when an act to which he is tempted\nis sinful, and that after committing such an act he may experience\neither of two painful feelings, one called remorse, in which there is\nno merit, and the other called repentance, which is capable of wiping\nout his guilt. In Protestant countries even many of those who lost\ntheir faith continued for a time to accept with greater or smaller\nmodifications the orthodox view of sin. In our own day, partly owing to\npsycho-analysis, we have the opposite state of affairs: not only do the\nunorthodox reject the old doctrine of sin, but many of those who still\nconsider themselves orthodox do so likewise. Conscience has ceased to\nbe something mysterious which, because it was mysterious, could be\nregarded as the voice of God. We know that conscience enjoins different\nacts in different parts of the world, and that broadly\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_97\"\u003e[97]\u003c/span\u003e speaking it\nis everywhere in agreement with tribal custom. What, then, is really\nhappening when a man’s conscience pricks him?\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe word “conscience” covers, as a matter of fact, several different\nfeelings; the simplest of these is the fear of being found out. You,\nreader, have, I am sure, lived a completely blameless life, but if\nyou will ask someone who has at some time acted in a manner for which\nhe would be punished if it became known, you will find that, when\ndiscovery seemed imminent, the person in question repented of his\ncrime. I do not say that this would apply to the professional thief who\nexpects a certain amount of prison as a trade risk, but it applies to\nwhat may be called the respectable offender, such as the Bank Manager\nwho has embezzled in a moment of stress, or the clergyman who has been\ntempted by passion into some sensual irregularity. Such men can forget\ntheir crime when there seems little chance of detection, but when they\nare found out, or in grave danger of being so, they wish they had\nbeen more virtuous, and this wish may give them a lively sense of the\nenormity of their sin. Closely allied with this feeling is the fear\nof becoming an outcast from the herd. A man who cheats at cards or\nfails to pay his debts of honour has nothing within himself by which\nto stand up against the disapproval of the herd when he is found out.\nIn this he is unlike the religious innovator, the anarchist, and the\nrevolutionary, who all feel that, whatever\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_98\"\u003e[98]\u003c/span\u003e may be their fate in the\npresent, the future is with them and will honour them as much as they\nare execrated in the present. These men, in spite of the hostility of\nthe herd, do not feel sinful, but the man who entirely accepts the\nmorality of the herd while acting against it suffers great unhappiness\nwhen he loses caste, and the fear of this disaster, or the pain of\nit when it has happened, may easily cause him to regard his acts\nthemselves as sinful.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eBut the sense of sin in its most important forms is something which\ngoes deeper. It is something which has its roots in the unconscious,\nand does not appear in consciousness as fear of other people’s\ndisapproval. In consciousness certain kinds of acts are labelled Sin\nfor no reason visible to introspection. When a man commits these acts\nhe feels uncomfortable without quite knowing why. He wishes he were the\nkind of man who could abstain from what he believes to be sin. He gives\nmoral admiration only to those whom he believes to be pure in heart.\nHe recognizes with a greater or less degree of regret that it is not\nfor him to be a saint; indeed, his conception of saintship is probably\none which it is nearly impossible to carry out in an ordinary everyday\nlife. Consequently he goes through life with a sense of guilt, feeling\nthat the best is not for him, and that his highest moments are those of\nmaudlin penitence.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe source of all this in practically every case is the moral teaching\nwhich the man received\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_99\"\u003e[99]\u003c/span\u003e before he was six years old at the hands of his\nmother or his nurse. He learned before that age that it is wicked to\nswear, and not quite nice to use any but the most ladylike language,\nthat only bad men drink, and that tobacco is incompatible with the\nhighest virtue. He learned that one should never tell a lie. And above\nall he learned that any interest in the sexual parts is an abomination.\nHe knew these to be the view of his mother, and believed them to be\nthose of his Creator. To be affectionately treated by his mother, or,\nif she was neglectful, by his nurse, was the greatest pleasure of his\nlife, and was only obtainable when he had not been known to sin against\nthe moral code. He therefore came to associate something vaguely\nawful with any conduct of which his mother or nurse would disapprove.\nGradually as he grew older he forgot where his moral code had come from\nand what had originally been the penalty for disobeying it, but he did\nnot throw off the moral code or cease to feel that something dreadful\nwas liable to happen to him if he infringed it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eNow very large parts of this infantile moral teaching are devoid\nof all rational foundation and such as cannot be applied to the\nordinary behaviour of ordinary men. A man who uses what is called\n“bad language”, for example, is not from a rational point of view any\nworse than a man who does not. Nevertheless, practically everybody in\ntrying to imagine a saint would consider abstinence from\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_100\"\u003e[100]\u003c/span\u003e swearing as\nessential. Considered in the light of reason this is simply silly. The\nsame applies to alcohol and tobacco. With regard to alcohol the feeling\ndoes not exist in Southern countries, and indeed there is an element\nof impiety about it, since it is known that Our Lord and the Apostles\ndrank wine. With regard to tobacco it is easier to maintain a negative\nposition, since all the greatest saints lived before its use was known.\nBut here also no rational argument is possible. The view that no saint\nwould smoke is based in the last analysis upon the view that no saint\nwould do anything solely because it gave him pleasure. This ascetic\nelement in ordinary morality has become almost unconscious, but it\noperates in all kinds of ways that make our moral code irrational.\nIn a rational ethic it will be held laudable to give pleasure to\nanyone, even to oneself, provided there is no counter-balancing pain\nto oneself or to others. The ideally virtuous man, if we had got rid\nof asceticism, would be the man who permits the enjoyment of all good\nthings whenever there is no evil consequence to outweigh the enjoyment.\nTake again the question of lying. I do not deny that there is a great\ndeal too much lying in the world, and that we should all be the better\nfor an increase of truthfulness, but I do deny, as I think every\nrational person must, that lying is in no circumstances justified. I\nonce in the course of a country walk saw a tired fox at the last stages\nof exhaustion still\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_101\"\u003e[101]\u003c/span\u003e forcing himself to run. A few minutes afterwards\nI saw the hunt. They asked me if I had seen the fox, and I said I had.\nThey asked me which way he had gone, and I lied to them. I do not think\nI should have been a better man if I had told the truth.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eBut it is above all in the realm of sex that early moral teaching does\nharm. If a child has been conventionally educated by somewhat stern\nparents or nurses, the association between sin and the sex organs\nis so firmly established by the time he is six years old that it is\nunlikely ever to be completely undone throughout the rest of his\nlife. This feeling is, of course, reinforced by the Œdipus complex,\nsince the woman most loved in childhood is one with whom all sexual\nfreedoms are impossible. The result is that many adult men feel women\nto be degraded by sex, and cannot respect their wives unless their\nwives hate sexual intercourse. But the man whose wife is cold will be\ndriven by instinct to seek instinctive satisfaction elsewhere. His\ninstinctive satisfaction, however, even if he momentarily finds it,\nwill be poisoned by the sense of guilt, so that he cannot be happy\nin any relation with a woman, whether in marriage or outside it. On\nthe woman’s side the same sort of thing happens if she has been very\nemphatically taught to be what is called “pure”. She instinctively\nholds herself back in her sexual relations with her husband, and\nis afraid of deriving any pleasure from them. In\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_102\"\u003e[102]\u003c/span\u003e the present day,\nhowever, there is very much less of this on the part of women than\nthere was fifty years ago. I should say that at present among educated\npeople the sex life of men is more contorted and more poisoned by the\nsense of sin than that of women.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThere is beginning to be widespread awareness, though not of course\non the part of public authorities, of the evils of traditional sex\neducation in regard to the very young. The right rule is simple: until\na child is nearing the age of puberty teach him or her no sexual\nmorality whatever, and carefully avoid instilling the idea that there\nis anything disgusting in the natural bodily functions. As the time\napproaches when it becomes necessary to give moral instruction, be sure\nthat it is rational, and that at every point you can give good grounds\nfor what you say. But it is not on education that I wish to speak in\nthis book. In this book I am concerned rather with what the adult can\ndo to minimize the evil effects of unwise education in causing an\nirrational sense of sin.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe problem here is the same as has confronted us in earlier\nchapters, namely that of compelling the unconscious to take note of\nthe rational beliefs that govern our conscious thought. Men must not\nallow themselves to be swayed by their moods, believing one thing at\none moment and another at another. The sense of sin is especially\nprominent at moments when the conscious will is weakened\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_103\"\u003e[103]\u003c/span\u003e by fatigue,\nby illness, by drink, or by any other cause. What a man feels at these\nmoments (unless caused by drink) is supposed to be a revelation from\nhis higher self. “The devil was sick, the devil a saint would be.” But\nit is absurd to suppose that moments of weakness give more insight\nthan moments of strength. In moments of weakness it is difficult to\nresist infantile suggestions, but there is no reason whatsoever for\nregarding such suggestions as preferable to the beliefs of the adult\nman when in full possession of his faculties. On the contrary, what a\nman deliberately believes with his whole reason when he is vigorous\nought to be to him the norm as to what he had better believe at all\ntimes. It is quite possible to overcome infantile suggestions of the\nunconscious, and even to change the contents of the unconscious, by\nemploying the right kind of technique. Whenever you begin to feel\nremorse for an act which your reason tells you is not wicked, examine\nthe causes of your feeling of remorse, and convince yourself in\ndetail of their absurdity. Let your conscious beliefs be so vivid and\nemphatic that they make an impression upon your unconscious strong\nenough to cope with the impressions made by your nurse or your mother\nwhen you were an infant. Do not be content with an alternation between\nmoments of rationality and moments of irrationality. Look into the\nirrationality closely, with a determination not to respect it, and\nnot to let it dominate you. Whenever it thrusts foolish thoughts or\nfeelings\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_104\"\u003e[104]\u003c/span\u003e into your consciousness, pull them up by the roots, examine\nthem, and reject them. Do not allow yourself to remain a vacillating\ncreature, swayed half by reason and half by infantile folly. Do not be\nafraid of irreverence towards the memory of those who controlled your\nchildhood. They seemed to you then strong and wise because you were\nweak and foolish; now that you are neither, it is your business to\nexamine their apparent strength and wisdom, to consider whether they\ndeserve that reverence that from force of habit you still bestow upon\nthem. Ask yourself seriously whether the world is the better for the\nmoral teaching traditionally given to the young. Consider how much of\nunadulterated superstition goes into the make-up of the conventionally\nvirtuous man, and reflect that, while all kinds of imaginary moral\ndangers were guarded against by incredibly foolish prohibitions, the\nreal moral dangers to which an adult is exposed were practically\nunmentioned. What are the really harmful acts to which the average man\nis tempted? Sharp practice in business of the sort not punished by\nlaw, harshness towards employees, cruelty towards wife and children,\nmalevolence towards competitors, ferocity in political conflicts—these\nare the really harmful sins that are common among respectable and\nrespected citizens. By means of these sins a man spreads misery in his\nimmediate circle and does his bit towards destroying civilization. Yet\nthese are not the things that make him,\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_105\"\u003e[105]\u003c/span\u003e when he is ill, regard himself\nas an outcast who has forfeited all claim to divine favour. These are\nnot the things that cause him in nightmares to see visions of his\nmother bending reproachful glances upon him. Why is his subconscious\nmorality thus divorced from reason? Because the ethic believed in by\nthose who had charge of his infancy was silly; because it was not\nderived from any study of the individual’s duty to the community;\nbecause it was made up of old scraps of irrational taboos; and because\nit contained within itself elements of morbidness derived from the\nspiritual sickness that troubled the dying Roman Empire. Our nominal\nmorality has been formulated by priests and mentally enslaved women. It\nis time that men who have to take a normal part in the normal life of\nthe world learned to rebel against this sickly nonsense.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eBut if the rebellion is to be successful in bringing individual\nhappiness and in enabling a man to live consistently by one standard,\nnot to vacillate between two, it is necessary that he should think\nand feel deeply about what his reason tells him. Most men, when they\nhave thrown off superficially the superstitions of their childhood,\nthink that there is no more to be done. They do not realize that\nthese superstitions are still lurking underground. When a rational\nconviction has been arrived at, it is necessary to dwell upon it, to\nfollow out its consequences, to search out in oneself whatever beliefs\ninconsistent with the new conviction might\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_106\"\u003e[106]\u003c/span\u003e otherwise survive, and when\nthe sense of sin grows strong, as from time to time it will, to treat\nit not as a revelation and a call to higher things, but as a disease\nand a weakness, unless of course it is caused by some act which a\nrational ethic would condemn. I am not suggesting that a man should be\ndestitute of morality, I am only suggesting that he should be destitute\nof superstitious morality, which is a very different thing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eBut even when a man has offended against his own rational code, I doubt\nwhether a sense of sin is the best method of arriving at a better way\nof life. There is in the sense of sin something abject, something\nlacking in self-respect. No good was ever done to anyone by the loss\nof self-respect. The rational man will regard his own undesirable\nacts as he regards those of others, as acts produced by certain\ncircumstances, and to be avoided either by a fuller realization that\nthey are undesirable, or, where this is possible, by avoidance of the\ncircumstances that caused them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eAs a matter of fact the sense of sin, so far from being a cause of a\ngood life, is quite the reverse. It makes a man unhappy and it makes\nhim feel inferior. Being unhappy, he is likely to make claims upon\nother people which are excessive and which prevent him from enjoying\nhappiness in personal relations. Feeling inferior, he will have a\ngrudge against those who seem superior. He will find admiration\ndifficult and envy easy. He will become\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_107\"\u003e[107]\u003c/span\u003e a generally disagreeable\nperson, and will find himself more and more solitary. An expansive and\ngenerous attitude towards other people not only gives happiness to\nothers, but is an immense source of happiness to its possessor, since\nit causes him to be generally liked. But such an attitude is scarcely\npossible to the man haunted by a sense of sin. It is an outcome\nof poise and self-reliance; it demands what may be called mental\nintegration, by which I mean that the various layers of a man’s nature,\nconscious, subconscious, and unconscious, work together harmoniously\nand are not engaged in perpetual battle. To produce such harmony is\npossible in most cases by wise education, but where education has been\nunwise it is a more difficult process. It is the process which the\npsycho-analysts attempt, but I believe that in a very great many cases\nthe patient can himself perform the work which in more extreme cases\nrequires the help of the expert. Do not say: “I have no time for such\npsychological labours; my life is a busy one filled with affairs, and\nI must leave my unconscious to its tricks.” Nothing so much diminishes\nnot only happiness but efficiency as a personality divided against\nitself. The time spent in producing harmony between the different\nparts of one’s personality is time usefully employed. I do not suggest\nthat a man should set apart, say, an hour a day for self-examination.\nThis is to my mind by no means the best method, since it increases\nself-absorption,\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_108\"\u003e[108]\u003c/span\u003e which is part of the disease to be cured, for a\nharmonious personality is directed outward. What I suggest is that a\nman should make up his mind with emphasis as to what he rationally\nbelieves, and should never allow contrary irrational beliefs to pass\nunchallenged or obtain a hold over him, however brief. This is a\nquestion of reasoning with himself in those moments in which he is\ntempted to become infantile, but the reasoning, if it is sufficiently\nemphatic, may be very brief. The time involved, therefore, should be\nnegligible.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThere is in many people a dislike of rationality, and where this\nexists the kind of thing that I have been saying will seem irrelevant\nand unimportant. There is an idea that rationality, if allowed free\nplay, will kill all the deeper emotions. This belief appears to me\nto be due to an entirely erroneous conception of the function of\nreason in human life. It is not the business of reason to generate\nemotions, though it may be part of its function to discover ways of\npreventing such emotions as are an obstacle to well-being. To find ways\nof minimizing hatred and envy is no doubt part of the function of a\nrational psychology. But it is a mistake to suppose that in minimizing\nthese passions we shall at the same time diminish the strength of those\npassions which reason does not condemn. In passionate love, in parental\naffection, in friendship, in benevolence, in devotion to science or\nart, there is nothing that reason should wish to diminish. The rational\nman,\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_109\"\u003e[109]\u003c/span\u003e when he feels any or all of these emotions, will be glad that he\nfeels them and will do nothing to lessen their strength, for all these\nemotions are parts of the good life, the life, that is, that makes for\nhappiness both in oneself and in others. There is nothing irrational\nin the passions as such, and many irrational people feel only the most\ntrivial passions. No man need fear that by making himself rational he\nwill make his life dull. On the contrary, since rationality consists in\nthe main of internal harmony, the man who achieves it is freer in his\ncontemplation of the world and in the use of his energies to achieve\nexternal purposes than is the man who is perpetually hampered by inward\nconflicts. Nothing is so dull as to be encased in self, nothing so\nexhilarating as to have attention and energy directed outwards.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOur traditional morality has been unduly self-centred, and the\nconception of sin is part of this unwise focusing of attention upon\nself. To those who have never passed through the subjective moods\ninduced by this faulty morality, reason may be unnecessary. But to\nthose who have once acquired the sickness, reason is necessary in\neffecting a cure. And perhaps the sickness is a necessary stage in\nmental development. I am inclined to think that the man who has passed\nbeyond it by the help of reason has reached a higher level than the man\nwho has never experienced either the sickness or the cure. The hatred\nof reason which is common in our time is very largely due to the fact\nthat the\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_110\"\u003e[110]\u003c/span\u003e operations of reason are not conceived in a sufficiently\nfundamental way. The man divided against himself looks for excitement\nand distraction; he loves strong passions, not for sound reasons,\nbut because for the moment they take him outside himself and prevent\nthe painful necessity of thought. Any passion is to him a form of\nintoxication, and since he cannot conceive of fundamental happiness,\nall relief from pain appears to him solely possible in the form of\nintoxication. This, however, is the symptom of a deep-seated malady.\nWhere there is no such malady, the greatest happiness comes with the\nmost complete possession of one’s faculties. It is in the moments when\nthe mind is most active and the fewest things are forgotten that the\nmost intense joys are experienced. This, indeed, is one of the best\ntouchstones of happiness. The happiness that requires intoxication of\nno matter what sort is a spurious and unsatisfying kind. The happiness\nthat is genuinely satisfying is accompanied by the fullest exercise of\nour faculties, and the fullest realization of the world in which we\nlive.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_111\"\u003e[111]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER VIII\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003ePERSECUTION MANIA\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIn its more extreme forms persecution mania is a recognized form\nof insanity. Some people imagine that others wish to kill them, or\nimprison them, or to do them some other grave injury. Often the wish\nto protect themselves against imaginary persecutors leads them into\nacts of violence which make it necessary to restrain their liberty.\nThis, like many other forms of insanity, is only an exaggeration of a\ntendency not at all uncommon among people who count as normal. I do\nnot propose to discuss the extreme forms, which are a matter for a\npsychiatrist. It is the milder forms that I wish to consider, because\nthey are a very frequent cause of unhappiness, and because, not having\ngone so far as to produce definite insanity, they are still capable of\nbeing dealt with by the patient himself, provided he can be induced to\ndiagnose his trouble rightly and to see that its origin lies within\nhimself and not in the supposed hostility or unkindness of others.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWe are all familiar with the type of person, man or woman, who,\naccording to his own account, is perpetually the victim of\ningratitude, unkindness, and treachery. People of this kind are often\nextraordinarily plausible, and secure warm sympathy from those who have\nnot known them long. There is, as a rule, nothing inherently improbable\nabout each\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_112\"\u003e[112]\u003c/span\u003e separate story that they relate. The kind of ill-treatment\nof which they complain does undoubtedly sometimes occur. What in the\nend rouses the hearer’s suspicions is the multiplicity of villains whom\nit has been the sufferer’s ill-fortune to meet with. In accordance\nwith the doctrine of probability, different people living in a given\nsociety are likely in the course of their lives to meet with about the\nsame amount of bad treatment. If one person in a given set receives,\naccording to his own account, universal ill-treatment, the likelihood\nis that the cause lies in himself, and that he either imagines injuries\nfrom which in fact he has not suffered, or unconsciously behaves\nin such a way as to arouse uncontrollable irritation. Experienced\npeople therefore become suspicious of those who by their own account\nare invariably ill-treated by the world; they tend, by their lack of\nsympathy, to confirm these unfortunate people in the view that everyone\nis against them. The trouble, in fact, is a difficult one to deal\nwith, since it is inflamed alike by sympathy and by lack of sympathy.\nThe person inclined to persecution mania, when he finds a hard-luck\nstory believed, will embellish it until he reaches the frontier of\ncredibility; when, on the other hand, he finds it disbelieved, he has\nmerely another example of the peculiar hard-heartedness of mankind\ntowards himself. The disease is one that can only be dealt with by\nunderstanding, and this understanding must be conveyed to the patient\nif it is to serve its\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_113\"\u003e[113]\u003c/span\u003e purpose. My purpose in this chapter is to\nsuggest some general reflections by means of which each individual can\ndetect in himself the elements of persecution mania (from which almost\neverybody suffers in a greater or less degree), and, having detected\nthem, can eliminate them. This is an important part of the conquest of\nhappiness, since it is quite impossible to be happy if we feel that\neverybody ill-treats us.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOne of the most universal forms of irrationality is the attitude taken\nby practically everybody towards malicious gossip. Very few people can\nresist saying malicious things about their acquaintances, and even\non occasion about their friends; yet when people hear that anything\nhas been said against themselves, they are filled with indignant\namazement. It has apparently never occurred to them that, just as they\ngossip about everyone else, so everyone else gossips about them. This\nis a mild form of the attitude which, when exaggerated, leads on to\npersecution mania. We expect everybody else to feel towards us that\ntender love and that profound respect which we feel towards ourselves.\nIt does not occur to us that we cannot expect others to think better of\nus than we think of them, and the reason this does not occur to us is\nthat our own merits are great and obvious, whereas those of others, if\nthey exist at all, are only visible to a very charitable eye. When you\nhear that so-and-so has said something horrid about you, you remember\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_114\"\u003e[114]\u003c/span\u003e\nthe ninety-nine times when you have refrained from uttering the most\njust and well-deserved criticism of him, and forget the hundredth time\nwhen in an unguarded moment you have declared what you believe to be\nthe truth about him. Is this the reward, you feel, for all your long\nforbearance? Yet from his point of view your conduct appears exactly\nwhat his appears to you; he knows nothing of the times when you have\nnot spoken, he knows only of the hundredth time when you did speak. If\nwe were all given by magic the power to read each other’s thoughts, I\nsuppose the first effect would be that almost all friendships would\nbe dissolved; the second effect, however, might be excellent, for a\nworld without any friends would be felt to be intolerable, and we\nshould learn to like each other without needing a veil of illusion to\nconceal from ourselves that we did not think each other absolutely\nperfect. We know that our friends have their faults, and yet are on the\nwhole agreeable people whom we like. We find it, however, intolerable\nthat they should have the same attitude towards us. We expect them to\nthink that, unlike the rest of mankind, we have no faults. When we\nare compelled to admit that we have faults, we take this obvious fact\nfar too seriously. Nobody should expect to be perfect, or be unduly\ntroubled by the fact that he is not.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003ePersecution mania is always rooted in a too exaggerated conception of\nour own merits. I am,\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_115\"\u003e[115]\u003c/span\u003e we will say, a playwright; to every unbiased\nperson it must be obvious that I am the most brilliant playwright of\nthe age. Nevertheless, for some reason, my plays are seldom performed,\nand when they are, they are not successful. What is the explanation of\nthis strange state of affairs? Obviously that managers, actors, and\ncritics have combined against me for one reason or another. The reason,\nof course, is highly creditable to myself: I have refused to kow-tow\nto the great ones of the theatrical world; I have not flattered the\ncritics; my plays contain home truths which are unbearable to those\nwhom they hit. And so my transcendent merit languishes unrecognized.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThen there is the inventor who has never been able to get anyone to\nexamine the merits of his invention; manufacturers are set in their\nways and will not consider any innovation, while the few who are\nprogressive keep inventors of their own, who succeed in warding off the\nintrusions of unauthorized genius; the learned societies, strangely\nenough, lose one’s manuscripts or return them unread; individuals to\nwhom one appeals are unaccountably unresponsive. How is such a state of\naffairs to be explained? Obviously there is a close corporation of men\nwho wish to divide among themselves the plums to be obtained by means\nof invention; the man who does not belong to this close corporation\nwill not be listened to.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThen there is the man who has a genuine grievance\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_116\"\u003e[116]\u003c/span\u003e founded upon actual\nfact, but who generalizes in the light of his experience and arrives at\nthe conclusion that his own misfortune affords the key to the universe;\nhe discovers, let us say, some scandal about the Secret Service which\nit is to the interest of the Government to keep dark. He can obtain\nhardly any publicity for his discovery, and the most apparently\nhigh-minded men refuse to lift a finger to remedy the evil which fills\nhim with indignation. So far the facts are as he says they are. But\nhis rebuffs have made such an impression upon him that he believes all\npowerful men to be occupied wholly and solely in covering up the crimes\nto which they owe their power. Cases of this kind are particularly\nobstinate, owing to the partial truth of their outlook; the thing that\nhas touched them personally has made, as is natural, more impression\nupon them than the much larger number of matters of which they have\nhad no direct experience. This gives them a wrong sense of proportion,\nand causes them to attach undue importance to facts which are perhaps\nexceptional rather than typical.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eAnother not uncommon victim of persecution mania is a certain type of\nphilanthropist who is always doing good to people against their will,\nand is amazed and horrified that they display no gratitude. Our motives\nin doing good are seldom as pure as we imagine them to be. Love of\npower is insidious; it has many disguises, and is often the source of\nthe pleasure we derive from doing what we\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_117\"\u003e[117]\u003c/span\u003e believe to be good to other\npeople. Not infrequently, yet another element enters in. “Doing good”\nto people generally consists in depriving them of some pleasure: drink,\nor gambling, or idleness, or what not. In this case there is an element\nwhich is typical of much social morality, namely envy of those who are\nin a position to commit sins from which we have to abstain if we are to\nretain the respect of our friends. Those who vote, let us say, for a\nlaw against cigarette smoking (such laws exist, or existed, in several\nAmerican States) are obviously non-smokers to whom the pleasure which\nothers derive from tobacco is a source of pain. If they expect those\nwho were previously cigarette fiends to come in a deputation and thank\nthem for emancipation from this odious vice, it is possible that they\nmay be disappointed. They may then begin to reflect that they have\ngiven their lives for the public good, and that those who have most\nreason for thanking them for their beneficent activities appear to be\nthe least aware of any occasion for gratitude.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOne used to find the same kind of attitude on the part of mistresses\ntowards domestic servants whose morals they safeguarded. But in these\ndays the servant problem has become so acute that this form of kindness\nto maids has become less common.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIn the higher walks of politics the same sort of thing occurs. The\nstatesman who has gradually concentrated all power within himself in\norder that he may be able to carry out the high and noble\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_118\"\u003e[118]\u003c/span\u003e aims which\nhave led him to eschew comfort and enter the arena of public life, is\namazed at the ingratitude of the people when they turn against him. It\nnever occurs to him that his work may have had anything but a public\nmotive, or that the pleasure of controlling affairs may have in any\ndegree inspired his activities. The phrases which are customary on the\nplatform and in the Party Press have gradually come to him to seem to\nexpress truths, and he mistakes the rhetoric of partisanship for a\ngenuine analysis of motives. Disgusted and disillusioned, he retires\nfrom the world after the world has retired from him, and regrets that\nhe ever attempted so thankless a task as the pursuit of the public good.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThese illustrations suggest four general maxims, which will prove an\nadequate preventive of persecution mania if their truth is sufficiently\nrealized. The first is: remember that your motives are not always as\naltruistic as they seem to yourself. The second is: don’t over-estimate\nyour own merits. The third is: don’t expect others to take as much\ninterest in you as you do yourself. And the fourth is: don’t imagine\nthat most people give enough thought to you to have any special desire\nto persecute you. I shall say a few words about each of these maxims in\nturn.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eSuspicion of one’s own motives is especially necessary for the\nphilanthropist and the executive; such people have a vision of how\nthe world, or some\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_119\"\u003e[119]\u003c/span\u003e part of it, should be, and they feel, sometimes\nrightly, sometimes wrongly, that in realizing their vision they will\nbe conferring a boon upon mankind or some section of it. They do not,\nhowever, adequately realize that the individuals affected by their\noperations have each an equal right to his own view as to the sort of\nworld he wants. A man of the executive type is quite sure that his\nvision is right, and that any contrary one is wrong. But his subjective\ncertainty affords no proof that he is objectively right. Moreover,\nhis belief is very often only a camouflage for the pleasure that he\nderives from contemplating changes of which he is the cause. And in\naddition to love of power there is another motive, namely vanity, which\noperates strongly in such cases. The high-minded idealist who stands\nfor Parliament—on this matter I speak from experience—is astonished\nby the cynicism of the electorate which assumes that he only desires\nthe glory of writing the letters “M.P.” after his name. When the\ncontest is over and he has time to think, it occurs to him that perhaps\nafter all the cynical electors were in the right. Idealism causes\nsimple motives to wear strange disguises, and therefore some dash of\nrealistic cynicism does not come amiss in our public men. Conventional\nmorality inculcates a degree of altruism of which human nature is\nscarcely capable, and those who pride themselves upon their virtue\noften imagine that they attain this unattainable ideal. The immense\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_120\"\u003e[120]\u003c/span\u003e\nmajority of even the noblest persons’ actions have self-regarding\nmotives, nor is this to be regretted, since, if it were otherwise, the\nhuman race could not survive. A man who spent his time seeing that\nothers were fed and forgot to feed himself would perish. He may, of\ncourse, take nourishment solely in order to provide himself with the\nnecessary strength to plunge again into the battle against evil, but\nit is doubtful whether food eaten with this motive could be adequately\ndigested, since the flow of saliva would be insufficiently stimulated.\nIt is better therefore that a man should eat because he enjoys his food\nthan that the time he spends at his meals should be solely inspired by\na desire for the public good.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eAnd what applies to eating applies to everything else. Whatever is to\nbe done can only be done adequately by the help of a certain zest,\nand zest is difficult without some self-regarding motive. I should\ninclude among self-regarding motives, from this point of view, those\nthat concern persons biologically connected with oneself, such as the\nimpulse to the defence of wife and children against enemies. This\ndegree of altruism is part of normal human nature, but the degree\ninculcated in conventional ethics is not, and is very rarely attained\ngenuinely. People who wish to have a high opinion of their own moral\nexcellence have therefore to persuade themselves that they have\nachieved a degree of unselfishness that it is very unlikely that\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_121\"\u003e[121]\u003c/span\u003e\nthey have achieved, and hence the endeavour after saintliness comes\nto be connected with self-deception of a kind that easily leads on to\npersecution mania.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe second of our four maxims, to the effect that it is unwise to\nover-estimate your own merits, is covered, so far as morals are\nconcerned, by what we have already said. But merits other than moral\nshould equally not be over-estimated. The playwright whose plays never\nsucceed should consider calmly the hypothesis that they are bad plays;\nhe should not reject this out of hand as obviously untenable. If he\nfinds that it fits the facts, he should, as an inductive philosopher,\nadopt it. It is true that there are in history cases of unrecognized\nmerit, but they are far less numerous than the cases of recognized\ndemerit. If a man is a genius whom the age will not recognize, he is\nquite right to persist in his course in spite of lack of recognition.\nIf, on the other hand, he is an untalented person puffed up with\nvanity, he will do well not to persist. There is no way of knowing to\nwhich of these two categories one belongs if one is afflicted with the\nimpulse to produce unrecognized masterpieces. If you belong to the\none category, your persistence is heroic; if to the other, ludicrous.\nWhen you have been dead a hundred years, it will be possible to guess\nto which category you belonged. In the meantime, there is a test, not\nperhaps infallible, but yet of considerable value, which you may apply\nyourself\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_122\"\u003e[122]\u003c/span\u003e if you suspect that you are a genius while your friends\nsuspect that you are not. The test is this: do you produce because you\nfeel an urgent compulsion to express certain ideas or feelings, or are\nyou actuated by the desire for applause? In the genuine artist the\ndesire for applause, while it usually exists strongly, is secondary,\nin the sense that the artist wishes to produce a certain kind of work,\nand hopes that that work may be applauded, but will not alter his\nstyle even if no applause is forthcoming. The man, on the other hand,\nto whom the desire for applause is the primary motive, has no force\nwithin himself urging him to a particular kind of expression, and\ncould therefore just as well do work of some wholly different kind.\nSuch a man, if he fails to win applause by his art, had better give it\nup. And, speaking more generally, whatever your line in life may be,\nif you find that others do not rate your abilities as highly as you\ndo yourself, do not be too sure that it is they who are mistaken. If\nyou allow yourself to think this, you may easily fall into the belief\nthat there is a conspiracy to prevent the recognition of your merit,\nand this belief is pretty sure to be the source of an unhappy life. To\nrecognize that your merit is not so great as you had hoped may be more\npainful for a moment, but it is a pain which has an end, beyond which a\nhappy life again becomes possible.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOur third maxim was not to expect too much of others. It used to be\ncustomary for invalid ladies\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_123\"\u003e[123]\u003c/span\u003e to expect at least one of their daughters\nto sacrifice themselves completely in performing the duties of a nurse,\neven to the extent of forgoing marriage. This is to expect of another a\ndegree of altruism which is contrary to reason, since the loss to the\naltruist is greater than the gain to the egoist. In all your dealings\nwith other people, especially with those who are nearest and dearest,\nit is important and not always easy to remember that they see life\nfrom their own angle and as it touches their own ego, not from your\nangle and as it touches yours. No person should be expected to distort\nthe main lines of his life for the sake of another individual. On\noccasion there may exist such a strong affection that even the greatest\nsacrifices become natural, but if they are not natural they should\nnot be made, and no person should be held blameworthy for not making\nthem. Very often the conduct that people complain of in others is not\nmore than the healthy reaction of natural egoism against the grasping\nrapacity of a person whose ego extends beyond its proper limits.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe fourth maxim that we mentioned consists of realizing that other\npeople spend less time in thinking about you than you do yourself.\nThe insane victim of persecution mania imagines that all sorts of\npeople, who, in fact, have their own avocations and interests, are\noccupied morning, noon, and night in an endeavour to work a mischief\nto the poor lunatic. In like manner, the comparatively\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_124\"\u003e[124]\u003c/span\u003e sane victim of\npersecution mania sees in all kinds of actions a reference to himself\nwhich does not, in fact, exist. This idea, of course, is flattering\nto his vanity. If he were a great enough man, it might be true. The\nactions of the British Government for many years were mainly concerned\nto thwart Napoleon. But when a person of no special importance\nimagines that others are perpetually thinking about him, he is on the\nroad towards insanity. You make a speech, let us say, at some public\ndinner. Photographs of some of the other speakers appear in the picture\npapers, but there is no picture of you. How is this to be accounted\nfor? Obviously not because the other speakers were considered more\nimportant; it must be because the editors of the papers had given\norders that you were to be ignored. And why should they have given such\norders? Obviously because they feared you on account of your great\nimportance. In this way the omission of your picture is transformed\nfrom a slight into a subtle compliment. But self-deception of this\nkind cannot lead to any solid happiness. In the back of your mind\nyou will know that the facts are otherwise, and in order to conceal\nthis from yourself as far as possible, you will have to invent more\nand more fantastic hypotheses. The strain of trying to believe these\nwill, in the end, become very great. And since, moreover, they involve\nthe belief that you are the object of widespread hostility, they\nwill only safeguard your self-esteem by inflicting the\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_125\"\u003e[125]\u003c/span\u003e very painful\nfeeling that you are at odds with the world. No satisfaction based upon\nself-deception is solid, and, however unpleasant the truth may be, it\nis better to face it once for all, to get used to it, and to proceed to\nbuild your life in accordance with it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_126\"\u003e[126]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER IX\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eFEAR OF PUBLIC OPINION\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eVery few people can be happy unless on the whole their way of life and\ntheir outlook on the world is approved by those with whom they have\nsocial relations, and more especially by those with whom they live.\nIt is a peculiarity of modern communities that they are divided into\nsets which differ profoundly in their morals and in their beliefs. This\nstate of affairs began with the Reformation, or perhaps one should say\nwith the Renaissance, and has grown more pronounced ever since. There\nwere Protestants and Catholics, who differed not only in theology but\non many more practical matters. There were aristocrats who permitted\nvarious kinds of action that were not tolerated among the bourgeoisie.\nThen there came to be latitudinarians and free-thinkers who did not\nrecognize the duties of religious observance. In our own day throughout\nthe Continent of Europe there is a profound division between socialists\nand others, which covers not only politics but almost every department\nof life. In English-speaking countries the divisions are very numerous.\nIn some sets art is admired, while in others it is thought to be of the\ndevil, at any rate if it is modern. In some sets devotion to the Empire\nis the supreme virtue, in others it is considered a vice, and in yet\nothers a form of stupidity. Conventional\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_127\"\u003e[127]\u003c/span\u003e people consider adultery one\nof the worst of crimes, but large sections of the population regard it\nas excusable if not positively laudable. Among Catholics divorce is\ntotally forbidden, while most non-Catholics accept it as a necessary\nalleviation of matrimony.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOwing to all these differences of outlook a person of given tastes\nand convictions may find himself practically an outcast while he\nlives in one set, although in another set he would be accepted as\nan entirely ordinary human being. A very great deal of unhappiness,\nespecially among the young, arises in this way. A young man or young\nwoman somehow catches ideas that are in the air, but finds that these\nideas are anathema in the particular milieu in which he or she lives.\nIt easily seems to the young as if the only milieu with which they are\nacquainted were representative of the whole world. They can scarcely\nbelieve that in another place or another set the views which they dare\nnot avow for fear of being thought utterly perverse would be accepted\nas the ordinary commonplaces of the age. Thus through ignorance of the\nworld a great deal of unnecessary misery is endured, sometimes only in\nyouth, but not infrequently throughout life. This isolation is not only\na source of pain, it also causes a great dissipation of energy in the\nunnecessary task of maintaining mental independence against hostile\nsurroundings, and in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred produces a\ncertain\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_128\"\u003e[128]\u003c/span\u003e timidity in following out ideas to their logical conclusions.\nThe Brontë sisters never met any congenial people until after their\nbooks had been published. This did not affect Emily, who was heroic\nand in the grand manner, but it certainly did affect Charlotte, whose\noutlook, in spite of her talents, remained always to a large extent\nthat of a governess. Blake, like Emily Brontë, lived in extreme mental\nisolation, but like her was great enough to overcome its bad effects,\nsince he never doubted that he was right and his critics wrong. His\nattitude towards public opinion is expressed in the lines:\u003c/p\u003e\n\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry-container\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"stanza\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eThe only man that e’er I knew\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eWho did not make me almost spew\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eWas Fuseli: he was both Turk and Jew.\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eAnd so, dear Christian friends, how do you do?\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eBut there are not many who have this degree of force in their inner\nlife. To almost everybody sympathetic surroundings are necessary to\nhappiness. To the majority, of course, the surroundings in which\nthey happen to find themselves are sympathetic. They imbibe current\nprejudices in youth, and instinctively adapt themselves to the beliefs\nand customs which they find in existence around them. But to a large\nminority, which includes practically all who have any intellectual or\nartistic merit, this attitude of acquiescence is impossible. A person\nborn, let us say, in some small country town finds himself from early\nyouth surrounded by hostility\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_129\"\u003e[129]\u003c/span\u003e to everything that is necessary for\nmental excellence. If he wishes to read serious books, other boys\ndespise him, and teachers tell him that such works are unsettling. If\nhe cares for art, his contemporaries think him unmanly, and his elders\nthink him immoral. If he desires any career, however respectable, which\nhas not been common in the circle to which he belongs, he is told that\nhe is setting himself up, and that what was good enough for his father\nought to be good enough for him. If he shows any tendency to criticize\nhis parents’ religious tenets or political affiliations, he is likely\nto find himself in serious trouble. For all these reasons, to most\nyoung men and young women of exceptional merit adolescence is a time of\ngreat unhappiness. To their more ordinary companions it may be a time\nof gaiety and enjoyment, but for themselves they want something more\nserious, which they can find neither among their elders nor among their\ncontemporaries in the particular social setting in which chance has\ncaused them to be born.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWhen such young people go to a University they probably discover\ncongenial souls and enjoy a few years of great happiness. If they are\nfortunate, they may succeed, on leaving the University, in obtaining\nsome kind of work that gives them still the possibility of choosing\ncongenial companions; an intelligent man who lives in a city as large\nas London or New York can generally find some\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_130\"\u003e[130]\u003c/span\u003e congenial set in which\nit is not necessary to practise any constraint or hypocrisy. But if his\nwork obliges him to live in some smaller place, and more particularly\nif it necessitates retention of the respect of ordinary people, as is\nthe case, for example, with a doctor or a lawyer, he may find himself\nthroughout his whole life practically compelled to conceal his real\ntastes and convictions from most of the people that he meets in the\ncourse of his day. This is especially true in America because of the\nvastness of the country. In the most unlikely places, north, south,\neast, and west, one finds lonely individuals who know from books that\nthere are places where they would not be lonely, but who have no chance\nto live in such places, and only the rarest opportunity of congenial\nconversation. Real happiness in such circumstances is impossible to\nthose who are built on a less magnificent scale than Blake and Emily\nBrontë. If it is to become possible, some way must be found by which\nthe tyranny of public opinion can be either lessened or evaded, and by\nwhich members of the intelligent minority can come to know each other\nand enjoy each other’s society.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIn a good many cases unnecessary timidity makes the trouble worse\nthan it need be. Public opinion is always more tyrannical towards\nthose who obviously fear it than towards those who feel indifferent\nto it. A dog will bark more loudly and bite more readily when people\nare afraid of him\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_131\"\u003e[131]\u003c/span\u003e than when they treat him with contempt, and the\nhuman herd has something of this same characteristic. If you show that\nyou are afraid of them, you give promise of good hunting, whereas\nif you show indifference, they begin to doubt their own power and\ntherefore tend to let you alone. I am not, of course, thinking of\nextreme forms of defiance. If you hold in Kensington the views that are\nconventional in Russia, or in Russia the views that are conventional\nin Kensington, you must accept the consequences. I am thinking, not\nof such extremes, but of much milder lapses from conventionality,\nsuch as failure to dress correctly or to belong to some Church or to\nabstain from reading intelligent books. Such lapses, if they are done\nwith gaiety and insouciance, not defiantly but spontaneously, will\ncome to be tolerated even in the most conventional society. Gradually\nit may become possible to acquire the position of licensed lunatic,\nto whom things are permitted which in another man would be thought\nunforgivable. This is largely a matter of a certain kind of good nature\nand friendliness. Conventional people are roused to fury by departures\nfrom convention, largely because they regard such departures as a\ncriticism of themselves. They will pardon much unconventionality in a\nman who has enough jollity and friendliness to make it clear, even to\nthe stupidest, that he is not engaged in criticizing them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThis method of escaping censure is, however,\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_132\"\u003e[132]\u003c/span\u003e impossible to many of\nthose whose tastes or opinions cause them to be out of sympathy with\nthe herd. Their lack of sympathy makes them uncomfortable and causes\nthem to have a pugnacious attitude, even if outwardly they conform\nor manage to avoid any sharp issue. People who are not in harmony\nwith the conventions of their own set tend therefore to be prickly\nand uncomfortable and lacking in expansive good humour. These same\npeople, transported into another set where their outlook is not thought\nstrange, will seem to change their character entirely. From being\nserious, shy and retiring they may become gay and self-confident; from\nbeing angular they may become smooth and easy; from being self-centred\nthey may become sociable and extravert.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWherever possible, therefore, young people who find themselves out\nof harmony with their surroundings should endeavour in the choice of\na profession to select some career which will give them a chance of\ncongenial companionship, even if this should entail a considerable loss\nof income. Often they hardly know that this is possible, since their\nknowledge of the world is very limited, and they may easily imagine\nthat the prejudices to which they have become accustomed at home are\nworld wide. This is a matter in which older men should be able to\ngive much assistance to the young, since a considerable experience of\nmankind is essential.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIt is customary in these days of psycho-analysis\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_133\"\u003e[133]\u003c/span\u003e to assume that,\nwhen any young person is out of harmony with his environment, the\ncause must lie in some psychological disorder. This is to my mind a\ncomplete mistake. Suppose, for example, that a young person has parents\nwho believe the doctrine of evolution to be wicked. Nothing except\nintelligence is required in such a case to cause him to be out of\nsympathy with them. To be out of harmony with one’s surroundings is, of\ncourse, a misfortune, but it is not always a misfortune to be avoided\nat all costs. Where the environment is stupid or prejudiced or cruel,\nit is a sign of merit to be out of harmony with it. And to some degree\nthese characteristics exist in almost every environment. Galileo and\nKepler had “dangerous thoughts” (as they are called in Japan), and so\nhave the most intelligent men of our own day. It is not desirable that\nthe social sense should be so strongly developed as to cause such men\nto fear the social hostility which their opinions may provoke. What is\ndesirable is to find ways of making this hostility as slight and as\nineffective as possible.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIn the modern world the most important part of this problem arises\nin youth. If a man is once launched upon the right career and in the\nright surroundings, he can in most cases escape social persecution, but\nwhile he is young and his merits are still untested, he is liable to\nbe at the mercy of ignorant people who consider themselves capable of\njudging in matters about which they know\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_134\"\u003e[134]\u003c/span\u003e nothing, and who are outraged\nat the suggestion that so young a person may know better than they do\nwith all their experience of the world. Many people who have ultimately\nescaped from the tyranny of ignorance have had so hard a fight and\nso long a time of repression that in the end they are embittered and\ntheir energy is impaired. There is a comfortable doctrine that genius\nwill always make its way, and on the strength of this doctrine many\npeople consider that the persecution of youthful talent cannot do much\nharm. But there is no ground whatever for accepting this doctrine. It\nis like the theory that murder will out. Obviously all the murders we\nknow of have been discovered, but who knows how many there may be which\nhave never been heard of? In like manner all the men of genius that\nwe have ever heard of have triumphed over adverse circumstances, but\nthat is no reason for supposing that there were not innumerable others\nwho succumbed in youth. Moreover, it is not a question only of genius,\nbut also of talent, which is just as necessary to the community. And\nit is not only a question of emerging somehow, but also of emerging\nunembittered and with unimpaired energy. For all these reasons the way\nof youth should not be made too hard.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWhile it is desirable that the old should treat with respect the\nwishes of the young, it is not desirable that the young should treat\nwith respect the wishes of the old. The reason is simple, namely\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_135\"\u003e[135]\u003c/span\u003e that\nin either case it is the lives of the young that are concerned, not\nthe lives of the old. When the young attempt to regulate the lives\nof the old, as, for example, by objecting to the remarriage of a\nwidowed parent, they are quite as much in the wrong as are the old who\nattempt to regulate the lives of the young. Old and young alike, as\nsoon as years of discretion have been reached, have a right to their\nown choices, and if necessary to their own mistakes. Young people are\nill-advised if they yield to the pressure of the old in any vital\nmatter. Suppose, for example, that you are a young person who wishes to\ngo on the stage, and that your parents oppose your wish, either on the\nground that the stage is immoral or on the ground that it is socially\ninferior. They may bring every kind of pressure to bear; they may tell\nyou that they will cast you off if you ignore their commands; they\nmay say that you will certainly repent within a few years; they may\nmention whole strings of horrid examples of young persons who have been\nrash enough to do what you contemplate doing and came to a bad end in\nconsequence. They may of course be right in thinking that the stage is\nnot the career for you; it may be that you have no talent for acting,\nor that you have a bad voice. If this is the case, however, you will\nsoon discover it from theatrical people, and there will still be plenty\nof time to adopt a different career. The arguments of parents should\nnot be a sufficient reason for relinquishing the\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_136\"\u003e[136]\u003c/span\u003e attempt. If, in spite\nof all they say, you carry out your intention, they will soon come\nround, much sooner in fact than either you or they suppose. If on the\nother hand you find professional opinion discouraging, that is another\nmatter, for professional opinion must always be treated with respect by\nbeginners.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eI think that in general, apart from expert opinion, there is too much\nrespect paid to the opinions of others, both in great matters and in\nsmall ones. One should as a rule respect public opinion in so far as is\nnecessary to avoid starvation and to keep out of prison, but anything\nthat goes beyond this is voluntary submission to an unnecessary\ntyranny, and is likely to interfere with happiness in all kinds of\nways. Take, for example, the matter of expenditure. Very many people\nspend money in ways quite different from those that their natural\ntastes would enjoin, merely because they feel that the respect of\ntheir neighbours depends upon their possession of a good car and their\nability to give good dinners. As a matter of fact, any man who can\nobviously afford a car but genuinely prefers travel or a good library\nwill in the end be much more respected than if he behaved exactly like\neveryone else. There is, of course, no point in deliberately flouting\npublic opinion; this is still to be under its domination, though in\na topsy-turvy way. But to be genuinely indifferent to it is both a\nstrength and a source of happiness. And a society composed of men\nand\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_137\"\u003e[137]\u003c/span\u003e women who do not bow too much to the conventions is a far more\ninteresting society than one in which all behave alike. Where each\nperson’s character is developed individually, differences of type are\npreserved, and it is worth while to meet new people, because they are\nnot mere replicas of those whom one has met already. This has been one\nof the advantages of aristocracy, since where status depended upon\nbirth behaviour was allowed to be erratic. In the modern world we are\nlosing this source of social freedom, and therefore a more deliberate\nrealization of the dangers of uniformity has become desirable. I do not\nmean that people should be intentionally eccentric, which is just as\nuninteresting as being conventional. I mean only that people should be\nnatural, and should follow their spontaneous tastes in so far as these\nare not definitely anti-social.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIn the modern world, owing to the swiftness of locomotion, people\nare less dependent than they used to be upon their geographically\nnearest neighbours. Those who have cars can regard as a neighbour any\nperson living within twenty miles. They have therefore a much greater\npower than was formerly the case of choosing their companions. In any\npopulous neighbourhood a man must be very unfortunate if he cannot find\ncongenial souls within twenty miles. The idea that one should know\none’s immediate neighbours has died out in large centres of population,\nbut still lingers in small\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_138\"\u003e[138]\u003c/span\u003e towns and in the country. It has become a\nfoolish idea, since there is no need to be dependent upon immediate\nneighbours for society. More and more it becomes possible to choose\nour companions on account of congeniality rather than on account of\nmere propinquity. Happiness is promoted by associations of persons with\nsimilar tastes and similar opinions. Social intercourse may be expected\nto develop more and more along these lines, and it may be hoped that\nby these means the loneliness that now afflicts so many unconventional\npeople will be gradually diminished almost to vanishing point. This\nwill undoubtedly increase their happiness, but it will of course\ndiminish the sadistic pleasure which the conventional at present derive\nfrom having the unconventional at their mercy. I do not think, however,\nthat this is a pleasure which we need be greatly concerned to preserve.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eFear of public opinion, like every other form of fear, is oppressive\nand stunts growth. It is difficult to achieve any kind of greatness\nwhile a fear of this kind remains strong, and it is impossible to\nacquire that freedom of spirit in which true happiness consists, for\nit is essential to happiness that our way of living should spring from\nour own deep impulses and not from the accidental tastes and desires\nof those who happen to be our neighbours, or even our relations. Fear\nof immediate neighbours is no doubt less than it was, but there is a\nnew kind of fear, namely the fear of what newspapers may say.\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_139\"\u003e[139]\u003c/span\u003e This is\nquite as terrifying as anything connected with mediæval witch-hunts.\nWhen the newspaper chooses to make a scapegoat of some perhaps quite\nharmless person, the results may be very terrible. Fortunately, as yet\nthis is a fate which most people escape through their obscurity, but\nas publicity gets more and more perfect in its methods, there will be\nan increasing danger in this novel form of social persecution. This is\ntoo grave a matter to be treated with disdain by the individual who\nis its victim, and whatever may be thought of the great principle of\nthe freedom of the Press, I think the line will have to be drawn more\nsharply than it is by the existing libel laws, and anything will have\nto be forbidden that makes life intolerable for innocent individuals,\neven if they should happen to have done or said things which, published\nmaliciously, can cause them to become unpopular. The only ultimate cure\nfor this evil is, however, an increase of toleration on the part of the\npublic. The best way to increase toleration is to multiply the number\nof individuals who enjoy real happiness and do not therefore find their\nchief pleasure in the infliction of pain upon their fellow-men.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_141\"\u003e[141]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"center p2\"\u003e\u003cb\u003ePART II\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"center lg\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eCAUSES OF HAPPINESS\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_143\"\u003e[143]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2 class=\"p2\"\u003eCHAPTER X\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eIS HAPPINESS STILL POSSIBLE?\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\n\u003cp\u003eSo far we have been considering the unhappy man; we now have the\npleasanter task of considering the happy man. From the conversation\nand the books of some of my friends I have been almost led to conclude\nthat happiness in the modern world has become an impossibility. I\nfind, however, that this view tends to be dissipated by introspection,\nforeign travel, and the conversation of my gardener. The unhappiness\nof my literary friends I have considered in an earlier chapter; in the\npresent chapter I wish to make a survey of the happy people that I have\ncome across in the course of my life.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eHappiness is of two sorts, though, of course, there are intermediate\ndegrees. The two sorts I mean might be distinguished as plain and\nfancy, or animal and spiritual, or of the heart and of the head. The\ndesignation to be chosen among these alternatives depends, of course,\nupon the thesis to be proved. I am at the moment not concerned to\nprove any thesis, but merely to describe. Perhaps the simplest way to\ndescribe the difference between the two sorts of happiness is to say\nthat one sort is open to any human being, and the other only to those\nwho can read and write. When I was a boy I knew a man bursting with\nhappiness whose business was digging wells. He was of enormous height\nand of incredible\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_144\"\u003e[144]\u003c/span\u003e muscles; he could neither read nor write, and when\nin the year 1885 he got a vote for Parliament, he learnt for the first\ntime that such an institution existed. His happiness did not depend\nupon intellectual sources; it was not based upon belief in natural law,\nor the perfectibility of the species, or the public ownership of public\nutilities, or the ultimate triumph of the Seventh Day Adventists, or\nany of the other creeds which intellectuals consider necessary to their\nenjoyment of life. It was based upon physical vigour, a sufficiency\nof work, and the overcoming of not insuperable obstacles in the shape\nof rock. The happiness of my gardener is of the same species; he\nwages a perennial war against rabbits, of which he speaks exactly as\nScotland Yard speaks of Bolsheviks; he considers them dark, designing\nand ferocious, and is of opinion that they can only be met by means of\na cunning equal to their own. Like the heroes of Valhalla who spent\nevery day hunting a certain wild boar, which they killed every evening\nbut which miraculously came to life again in the morning, my gardener\ncan slay his enemy one day without any fear that the enemy will have\ndisappeared the next day. Although well over seventy, he works all day\nand bicycles sixteen hilly miles to and from his work, but the fount of\njoy is inexhaustible, and it is “they rabbits” that supply it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eBut, you will say, these simple delights are not open to superior\npeople like ourselves. What joy\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_145\"\u003e[145]\u003c/span\u003e can we experience in waging war on\nsuch puny creatures as rabbits? The argument, to my mind, is a poor\none. A rabbit is very much larger than a yellow-fever bacillus, and yet\na superior person can find happiness in making war upon the latter.\nPleasures exactly similar to those of my gardener so far as their\nemotional content is concerned are open to the most highly educated\npeople. The difference made by education is only in regard to the\nactivities by which these pleasures are to be obtained. Pleasures of\nachievement demand difficulties such that beforehand success seems\ndoubtful although in the end it is usually achieved. This is perhaps\nthe chief reason why a not excessive estimate of one’s own powers is a\nsource of happiness. The man who underestimates himself is perpetually\nbeing surprised by success, whereas the man who overestimates himself\nis just as often surprised by failure. The former kind of surprise is\npleasant, the latter unpleasant. It is therefore wise to be not unduly\nconceited, though also not too modest to be enterprising.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOf the more highly educated sections of the community, the happiest in\nthe present day are the men of science. Many of the most eminent of\nthem are emotionally simple, and obtain from their work a satisfaction\nso profound that they can derive pleasure from eating and even\nmarrying. Artists and literary men consider it \u003ci\u003ede rigueur\u003c/i\u003e to\nbe unhappy in their marriages, but men of science quite\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_146\"\u003e[146]\u003c/span\u003e frequently\nremain capable of old-fashioned domestic bliss. The reason of this is\nthat the higher parts of their intelligence are wholly absorbed by\ntheir work, and are not allowed to intrude into regions where they\nhave no functions to perform. In their work they are happy because in\nthe modern world science is progressive and powerful, and because its\nimportance is not doubted either by themselves or by laymen. They have\ntherefore no necessity for complex emotions, since the simpler emotions\nmeet with no obstacles. Complexity in emotions is like foam in a river.\nIt is produced by obstacles which break the smoothly flowing current.\nBut so long as the vital energies are unimpeded, they produce no ripple\non the surface, and their strength is not evident to the unobservant.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eAll the conditions of happiness are realized in the life of the man of\nscience. He has an activity which utilizes his abilities to the full,\nand he achieves results which appear important not only to himself\nbut to the general public, even when it cannot in the smallest degree\nunderstand them. In this he is more fortunate than the artist. When\nthe public cannot understand a picture or a poem, they conclude that\nit is a bad picture or a bad poem. When they cannot understand the\ntheory of relativity they conclude (rightly) that their education has\nbeen insufficient. Consequently Einstein is honoured while the best\npainters are left to starve in garrets, and Einstein is happy while\nthe painters\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_147\"\u003e[147]\u003c/span\u003e are unhappy. Very few men can be genuinely happy in a\nlife involving continual self-assertion against the scepticism of\nthe mass of mankind, unless they can shut themselves up in a coterie\nand forget the cold outer world. The man of science has no need\nof a coterie, since he is thought well of by everybody except his\ncolleagues. The artist, on the contrary, is in the painful situation of\nhaving to choose between being despised and being despicable. If his\npowers are of the first order, he must incur one or the other of these\nmisfortunes—the former if he uses his powers, the latter if he does\nnot. This has not been the case always and everywhere. There have been\ntimes when even good artists, even when they were young, were thought\nwell of. Julius II, though he might ill-treat Michael Angelo, never\nsupposed him incapable of painting pictures. The modern millionaire,\nthough he may shower wealth upon elderly artists after they have lost\ntheir powers, never imagines that their work is as important as his\nown. Perhaps these circumstances have something to do with the fact\nthat artists are on the average less happy than men of science.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIt must, I think, be admitted that the most intelligent young people in\nWestern countries tend to have that kind of unhappiness that comes of\nfinding no adequate employment for their best talents. This, however,\nis not the case in Eastern countries. The intelligent young at the\npresent\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_148\"\u003e[148]\u003c/span\u003e day are probably happier in Russia than anywhere else in the\nworld. They have there a new world to create, and an ardent faith\nin accordance with which to create it. The old have been executed,\nstarved, exiled, or in some other way disinfected, so that they cannot,\nas in every Western country, compel the young to choose between doing\nharm and doing nothing. To the sophisticated Occidental the faith of\nthe young Russian may seem crude, but, after all, what is there to be\nsaid against it? He \u003ci\u003eis\u003c/i\u003e creating a new world; the new world is\nto his liking; the new world will almost certainly, when created, make\nthe average Russian happier than he was before the Revolution. It may\nnot be a world in which the sophisticated Western intellectual would be\nhappy, but the sophisticated Western intellectual does not have to live\nin it. By any pragmatic test, therefore, the faith of young Russia is\njustified, and to condemn it as crude can have no justification except\non a basis of theory.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIn India, China, and Japan, external circumstances of a political\nsort interfere with the happiness of the young intelligentsia, but\nthere is no such internal obstacle as exists in the West. There are\nactivities which appear important to the young, and, in so far as these\nactivities succeed, the young are happy. They feel that they have\nan important part to play in the national life, and aims to pursue\nwhich, though difficult, are not impossible to realize. Cynicism such\nas one finds very frequently among\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_149\"\u003e[149]\u003c/span\u003e the most highly educated young\nmen and women of the West results from the combination of comfort\nwith powerlessness. Powerlessness makes people feel that nothing is\nworth doing, and comfort makes the painfulness of this feeling just\nendurable. Throughout the East the University student can hope for more\ninfluence upon public opinion than he can have in the modern West, but\nhe has much less opportunity than in the West of securing a substantial\nincome. Being neither powerless nor comfortable, he becomes a reformer\nor a revolutionary, not a cynic. The happiness of the reformer or\nrevolutionary depends upon the course of public affairs, but probably\neven while he is being executed he enjoys more real happiness than\nis possible for the comfortable cynic. I remember a young Chinese\nvisitor to my school who was going home to found a similar school in a\nreactionary part of China. He expected the result to be that his head\nwould be cut off. Nevertheless he enjoyed a quiet happiness that I\ncould only envy.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eI do not wish to suggest, however, that these high-flown kinds of\nhappiness are the only possible ones. They are in fact open only to a\nminority, since they require a kind of ability and a width of interest\nwhich cannot be very common. It is not only eminent scientists who can\nderive pleasure through work, nor is it only leading statesmen who\ncan derive pleasure through advocacy of a cause. The pleasure of work\nis open to anyone who can\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_150\"\u003e[150]\u003c/span\u003e develop some specialized skill, provided\nthat he can get satisfaction from the exercise of his skill without\ndemanding universal applause. I knew a man who had lost the use of both\nlegs in early youth, but he had remained serenely happy throughout a\nlong life; he had achieved this by writing a work in five volumes on\nrose blight, on which I always understood he was the leading expert. I\nhave not had the pleasure of knowing any large number of conchologists,\nbut from those who have I have always understood that the study of\nshells brings contentment to those who engage in it. I knew a man once\nwho was the best compositor in the world, and was sought out by all\nthose who devoted themselves to inventing artistic types; he derived\njoy, not so much from the very genuine respect in which he was held\nby persons whose respect was not lightly bestowed, as from the actual\ndelight in the exercise of his craft, a delight not wholly unlike that\nwhich good dancers derive from dancing. I have known also compositors\nwho were experts in setting up mathematical type, or Nestorian script,\nor cuneiform, or anything else that was out of the way and difficult. I\ndid not discover whether these men’s private lives were happy, but in\ntheir working hours their constructive instincts were fully gratified.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIt is customary to say that in our machine age there is less room than\nformerly for the craftsman’s joy in skilled work. I am not at all sure\nthat this\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_151\"\u003e[151]\u003c/span\u003e is true: the skilled workman nowadays works, it is true, at\nquite different things from those that occupied the attention of the\nmediæval guilds, but he is still very important and quite essential in\nthe machine economy. There are those who make scientific instruments\nand delicate machines, there are designers, there are aeroplane\nmechanics, chauffeurs, and hosts of others who have a trade in which\nskill can be developed to almost any extent. The agricultural labourer\nand the peasant in comparatively primitive communities is not, so far\nas I have been able to observe, nearly as happy as a chauffeur or an\nengine-driver. It is true that the work of the peasant who cultivates\nhis own land is varied; he ploughs, he sows, he reaps. But he is at\nthe mercy of the elements, and is very conscious of his dependence,\nwhereas the man who works a modern mechanism is conscious of power,\nand acquires the sense that man is the master, not the slave, of\nnatural forces. It is true, of course, that work is very uninteresting\nto the large body of mere machine-minders who repeat some mechanical\noperation over and over again with the minimum of variation, but the\nmore uninteresting the work becomes, the more possible it is to get it\nperformed by a machine. The ultimate goal of machine production—from\nwhich, it is true, we are as yet far removed—is a system in which\neverything uninteresting is done by machines, and human beings are\nreserved for the work involving variety\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_152\"\u003e[152]\u003c/span\u003e and initiative. In such a\nworld the work will be less boring and less depressing than it has\nbeen at any time since the introduction of agriculture. In taking to\nagriculture mankind decided that they would submit to monotony and\ntedium in order to diminish the risk of starvation. When men obtained\ntheir food by hunting, work was a joy, as one can see from the fact\nthat the rich still pursue these ancestral occupations for amusement.\nBut with the introduction of agriculture mankind entered upon a long\nperiod of meanness, misery, and madness, from which they are only now\nbeing freed by the beneficent operation of the machine. It is all very\nwell for sentimentalists to speak of contact with the soil and the ripe\nwisdom of Hardy’s philosophic peasants, but the one desire of every\nyoung man in the countryside is to find work in towns where he can\nescape from the slavery of wind and weather and the solitude of dark\nwinter evenings into the reliable and human atmosphere of the factory\nand the cinema. Companionship and co-operation are essential elements\nin the happiness of the average man, and these are to be obtained in\nindustry far more fully than in agriculture.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eBelief in a cause is a source of happiness to large numbers of people.\nI am not thinking only of revolutionaries, socialists, nationalists in\noppressed countries, and such; I am thinking also of many humbler kinds\nof belief. The men I have known who believed that the English were the\nlost ten tribes\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_153\"\u003e[153]\u003c/span\u003e were almost invariably happy, while as for those who\nbelieved that the English were only the tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh,\ntheir bliss knew no bounds. I am not suggesting that the reader should\nadopt this creed, since I cannot advocate any happiness based upon what\nseem to me to be false beliefs. For the same reason I cannot urge the\nreader to believe that men should live exclusively upon nuts, although,\nso far as my observation goes, this belief invariably ensures perfect\nhappiness. But it is easy to find some cause which is in no degree\nfantastic, and those whose interest in any such cause is genuine are\nprovided with an occupation for their leisure hours and a complete\nantidote to the feeling that life is empty.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eNot so very far removed from the devotion to obscure causes is\nabsorption in a hobby. One of the most eminent of living mathematicians\ndivides his time equally between mathematics and stamp-collecting.\nI imagine that the latter affords consolation at the moments when\nhe can make no progress with the former. The difficulty of proving\npropositions in the theory of numbers is not the only sorrow that\nstamp-collecting can cure, nor are stamps the only things that can\nbe collected. Consider what a vast field of ecstasy opens before the\nimagination when one thinks of old china, snuff-boxes, Roman coins,\narrow-heads, and flint implements. It is true that many of us are\ntoo “superior” for these simple pleasures. We have all experienced\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_154\"\u003e[154]\u003c/span\u003e\nthem in boyhood, but have thought them, for some reason, unworthy of\na grown man. This is a complete mistake; any pleasure that does no\nharm to other people is to be valued. For my part, I collect rivers: I\nderive pleasure from having gone down the Volga and up the Yangtse, and\nregret very much having never seen the Amazon or the Orinoco. Simple\nas these emotions are, I am not ashamed of them. Or consider again the\npassionate joy of the baseball fan: he turns to his newspaper with\navidity, and the radio affords him the keenest thrills. I remember\nmeeting for the first time one of the leading literary men of America,\na man whom I had supposed from his books to be filled with melancholy.\nBut it so happened that at that moment the most crucial baseball\nresults were coming through on the radio; he forgot me, literature, and\nall the other sorrows of our sublunary life, and yelled with joy as his\nfavourites achieved victory. Ever since this incident I have been able\nto read his books without feeling depressed by the misfortunes of his\ncharacters.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eFads and hobbies, however, are in many cases, perhaps most, not a\nsource of fundamental happiness, but a means of escape from reality,\nof forgetting for the moment some pain too difficult to be faced.\nFundamental happiness depends more than anything else upon what may be\ncalled a friendly interest in persons and things.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eA friendly interest in persons is a form of affectionateness,\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_155\"\u003e[155]\u003c/span\u003e but\nnot the form which is grasping and possessive and seeking always an\nemphatic response. This latter form is very frequently a source of\nunhappiness. The kind that makes for happiness is the kind that likes\nto observe people and finds pleasure in their individual traits, that\nwishes to afford scope for the interests and pleasures of those with\nwhom it is brought into contact without desiring to acquire power over\nthem or to secure their enthusiastic admiration. The person whose\nattitude towards others is genuinely of this kind will be a source of\nhappiness and a recipient of reciprocal kindness. His relations with\nothers, whether slight or serious, will satisfy both his interests\nand his affections; he will not be soured by ingratitude, since he\nwill seldom suffer it and will not notice when he does. The same\nidiosyncrasies which would get on another man’s nerves to the point\nof exasperation will be to him a source of gentle amusement. He\nwill achieve without effort results which another man, after long\nstruggles, will find to be unattainable. Being happy in himself, he\nwill be a pleasant companion, and this in turn will increase his\nhappiness. But all this must be genuine; it must not spring from an\nidea of self-sacrifice inspired by a sense of duty. A sense of duty\nis useful in work, but offensive in personal relations. People wish\nto be liked, not to be endured with patient resignation. To like many\npeople spontaneously and without effort is perhaps\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_156\"\u003e[156]\u003c/span\u003e the greatest of all\nsources of personal happiness.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eI spoke also in the last paragraph of what I call a friendly interest\nin things. This phrase may perhaps seem forced; it may be said that\nit is impossible to feel friendly to things. Nevertheless, there is\nsomething analogous to friendliness in the kind of interest that\na geologist takes in rocks, or an archæologist in ruins, and this\ninterest ought to be an element in our attitude to individuals or\nsocieties. It is possible to have an interest in things which is\nhostile rather than friendly. A man might collect facts concerning\nthe habitats of spiders because he hated spiders and wished to live\nwhere they were few. This kind of interest would not afford the same\nsatisfaction as the geologist derives from his rocks. An interest\nin impersonal things, though perhaps less valuable as an ingredient\nin everyday happiness than a friendly attitude towards our fellow\ncreatures, is nevertheless very important. The world is vast and our\nown powers are limited. If all our happiness is bound up entirely\nin our personal circumstances it is difficult not to demand of life\nmore than it has to give. And to demand too much is the surest way\nof getting even less than is possible. The man who can forget his\nworries by means of a genuine interest in, say, the Council of Trent,\nor the life history of stars, will find that, when he returns from his\nexcursion into the impersonal world, he has acquired a poise and calm\nwhich enable him to\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_157\"\u003e[157]\u003c/span\u003e deal with his worries in the best way, and he will\nin the meantime have experienced a genuine even if temporary happiness.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe secret of happiness is this: let your interests be as wide as\npossible, and let your reactions to the things and persons that\ninterest you be as far as possible friendly rather than hostile.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThis preliminary survey of the possibilities of happiness will be\nexpanded in subsequent chapters, together with suggestions as to ways\nof escaping from psychological sources of misery.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_158\"\u003e[158]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER XI\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eZEST\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIn this chapter I propose to deal with what seems to me the most\nuniversal and distinctive mark of happy men, namely zest.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003ePerhaps the best way to understand what is meant by zest will be to\nconsider the different ways in which men behave when they sit down to\na meal. There are those to whom a meal is merely a bore; no matter how\nexcellent the food may be, they feel that it is uninteresting. They\nhave had excellent food before, probably at almost every meal they have\neaten. They have never known what it was to go without a meal until\nhunger became a raging passion, but have come to regard meals as merely\nconventional occurrences, dictated by the fashions of the society in\nwhich they live. Like everything else, meals are tiresome, but it is\nno use to make a fuss, because nothing else will be less tiresome.\nThen there are the invalids who eat from a sense of duty, because the\ndoctor has told them that it is necessary to take a little nourishment\nin order to keep up their strength. Then there are the epicures, who\nstart hopefully, but find that nothing has been quite so well cooked as\nit ought to have been. Then there are the gormandizers, who fall upon\ntheir food with eager rapacity, eat too much, and grow plethoric and\nstertorous. Finally there\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_159\"\u003e[159]\u003c/span\u003e are those who begin with a sound appetite,\nare glad of their food, eat until they have had enough, and then stop.\nThose who are set down before the feast of life have similar attitudes\ntowards the good things which it offers. The happy man corresponds to\nthe last of our eaters. What hunger is in relation to food, zest is in\nrelation to life. The man who is bored with his meals corresponds to\nthe victim of Byronic unhappiness. The invalid who eats from a sense\nof duty corresponds to the ascetic, the gormandizer to the voluptuary.\nThe epicure corresponds to the fastidious person who condemns half the\npleasures of life as unæsthetic. Oddly enough, all these types, with\nthe possible exception of the gormandizer, feel contempt for the man of\nhealthy appetite and consider themselves his superior. It seems to them\nvulgar to enjoy food because you are hungry or to enjoy life because it\noffers a variety of interesting spectacles and surprising experiences.\nFrom the height of their disillusionment they look down upon those\nwhom they despise as simple souls. For my part I have no sympathy with\nthis outlook. All disenchantment is to me a malady, which, it is true,\ncertain circumstances may render inevitable, but which none the less,\nwhen it occurs, is to be cured as soon as possible, not to be regarded\nas a higher form of wisdom. Suppose one man likes strawberries and\nanother does not; in what respect is the latter superior? There is no\nabstract and impersonal proof either that strawberries are good\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_160\"\u003e[160]\u003c/span\u003e or\nthat they are not good. To the man who likes them they are good; to\nthe man who dislikes them they are not. But the man who likes them\nhas a pleasure which the other does not have; to that extent his life\nis more enjoyable and he is better adapted to the world in which both\nmust live. What is true in this trivial instance is equally true in\nmore important matters. The man who enjoys watching football is to that\nextent superior to the man who does not. The man who enjoys reading is\nstill more superior to the man who does not, since opportunities for\nreading are more frequent than opportunities for watching football. The\nmore things a man is interested in, the more opportunities of happiness\nhe has, and the less he is at the mercy of fate, since if he loses one\nthing he can fall back upon another. Life is too short to be interested\nin everything, but it is good to be interested in as many things as\nare necessary to fill our days. We are all prone to the malady of the\nintrovert, who, with the manifold spectacle of the world spread out\nbefore him, turns away and gazes only upon the emptiness within. But\nlet us not imagine that there is anything grand about the introvert’s\nunhappiness.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThere were once upon a time two sausage machines, exquisitely\nconstructed for the purpose of turning pig into the most delicious\nsausages. One of these retained his zest for pig and produced sausages\ninnumerable; the other said: “What is pig to me? My own works are far\nmore interesting and wonderful\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_161\"\u003e[161]\u003c/span\u003e than any pig.” He refused pig and set\nto work to study his inside. When bereft of its natural food, his\ninside ceased to function, and the more he studied it, the more empty\nand foolish it seemed to him to be. All the exquisite apparatus by\nwhich the delicious transformation had hitherto been made stood still,\nand he was at a loss to guess what it was capable of doing. This second\nsausage machine was like the man who has lost his zest, while the first\nwas like the man who has retained it. The mind is a strange machine\nwhich can combine the materials offered to it in the most astonishing\nways, but without materials from the external world it is powerless,\nand unlike the sausage machine it must seize its materials for itself,\nsince events only become experiences through the interest that we take\nin them: if they do not interest us, we are making nothing of them. The\nman, therefore, whose attention is turned within finds nothing worthy\nof his notice, whereas the man whose attention is turned outward can\nfind within, in those rare moments when he examines his soul, the most\nvaried and interesting assortment of ingredients being dissected and\nrecombined into beautiful or instructive patterns.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe forms of zest are innumerable. Sherlock Holmes, it may be\nremembered, picked up a hat which he happened to find lying in the\nstreet. After looking at it for a moment he remarked that its owner had\ncome down in the world as the result\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_162\"\u003e[162]\u003c/span\u003e of drink, and that his wife was\nno longer so fond of him as she used to be. Life could never be boring\nto a man to whom casual objects offered such a wealth of interest.\nThink of the different things that may be noticed in the course of a\ncountry walk. One man may be interested in the birds, another in the\nvegetation, another in the geology, yet another in the agriculture, and\nso on. Any one of these things is interesting if it interests you, and,\nother things being equal, the man who is interested in any one of them\nis a man better adapted to the world than the man who is not interested.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eHow extraordinarily different, again, are the attitudes of different\npeople to their fellow-men. One man, in the course of a long train\njourney, will fail entirely to observe any of his fellow travellers,\nwhile another will have summed them all up, analysed their characters,\nmade a shrewd guess at their circumstances, and perhaps even\nascertained the most secret histories of several of them. People differ\njust as much in what they feel towards others as in what they ascertain\nabout them. Some men find almost everybody boring, others quickly and\neasily develop a friendly feeling towards those with whom they are\nbrought in contact, unless there is some definite reason for feeling\notherwise. Take again such a matter as travel: some men will travel\nthrough many countries, going always to the best hotels, eating exactly\nthe same food as they would eat at home, meeting the same idle rich\nwhom\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_163\"\u003e[163]\u003c/span\u003e they would meet at home, conversing on the same topics upon which\nthey converse at their own dinner-table. When they return, their only\nfeeling is one of relief at having done with the boredom of expensive\nlocomotion. Other men wherever they go see what is characteristic, make\nthe acquaintance of people who typify the locality, observe whatever\nis of interest either historically or socially, eat the food of the\ncountry, learn its manners and its language, and come home with a new\nstock of pleasant thoughts for winter evenings.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIn all these different situations the man who has the zest for life has\nthe advantage over the man who has none. Even unpleasant experiences\nhave their uses to him. I am glad to have smelt a Chinese crowd\nand a Sicilian village, though I cannot pretend that my pleasure\nwas very great at the moment. Adventurous men enjoy shipwrecks,\nmutinies, earthquakes, conflagrations, and all kinds of unpleasant\nexperiences, provided they do not go so far as to impair health. They\nsay to themselves in an earthquake, for example, “So that is what an\nearthquake is like”, and it gives them pleasure to have their knowledge\nof the world increased by this new item. It would not be true to say\nthat such men are not at the mercy of fate, for if they should lose\ntheir health they would be very likely to lose their zest at the same\ntime, though this is by no means certain. I have known men die at\nthe end of years of slow torture, and yet retain their zest\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_164\"\u003e[164]\u003c/span\u003e almost\ntill the last moment. Some forms of ill-health destroy zest, others\ndo not. I do not know whether the biochemists are able as yet to\ndistinguish between these kinds. Perhaps when biochemistry has made\nfurther advances we shall all be able to take tablets that will ensure\nour feeling an interest in everything, but until that day comes we are\ncompelled to depend upon common-sense observation of life to judge what\nare the causes that enable some men to take an interest in everything,\nwhile compelling others to take an interest in nothing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eZest is sometimes general, sometimes specialized. It may be very\nspecialized indeed. Readers of Borrow may remember a character who\noccurs in \u003ci\u003eLavengro\u003c/i\u003e. He had lost his wife, to whom he was\ndevoted, and felt for a time that life had grown utterly barren. But by\nprofession he was a tea merchant, and in order to endure life he taught\nhimself unaided to read the Chinese inscriptions on the tea-chests\nthat passed through his hands. In the end this gave him a new interest\nin life, and he began to study with avidity everything that concerned\nChina. I have known men who were entirely absorbed in the endeavour to\nfind out all about the Gnostic heresy, and other men whose principal\ninterest lay in collating the manuscripts and early editions of Hobbes.\nIt is quite impossible to guess in advance what will interest a man,\nbut most men are capable of a keen interest in something or other,\nand when once such an interest has been\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_165\"\u003e[165]\u003c/span\u003e aroused their life becomes\nfree from tedium. Very specialized interests are, however, a less\nsatisfactory source of happiness than a general zest for life, since\nthey can hardly fill the whole of a man’s time, and there is always\nthe danger that he may come to know all there is to know about the\nparticular matter that has become his hobby.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIt will be remembered that among our different types at the banquet\nwe included the gormandizer, whom we were not prepared to praise. The\nreader may think that the man with zest whom we have been praising does\nnot differ in any definable way from the gormandizer. The time has come\nwhen we must try to make the distinction between the two types more\ndefinite.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe ancients, as everyone knows, regarded moderation as one of\nthe essential virtues. Under the influence of romanticism and the\nFrench Revolution this view was abandoned by many, and overmastering\npassions were admired, even if, like those of Byron’s heroes, they\nwere of a destructive and anti-social kind. The ancients, however,\nwere clearly in the right. In the good life there must be a balance\nbetween different activities, and no one of them must be carried so\nfar as to make the others impossible. The gormandizer sacrifices all\nother pleasures to that of eating, and by so doing diminishes the\ntotal happiness of his life. Many other passions besides eating may\nbe carried to a like excess. The Empress Josephine\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_166\"\u003e[166]\u003c/span\u003e was a gormandizer\nin regard to clothes. At first Napoleon used to pay her dressmaker’s\nbills, though with continually increasing protest. At last he told her\nthat she really must learn moderation, and that in future he would\nonly pay her bills when the amount seemed reasonable. When her next\ndressmaker’s bill came in, she was for a moment at her wits’ end,\nbut presently she bethought herself of a scheme. She went to the War\nMinister and demanded that he should pay her bill out of the funds\nprovided for the war. Since he knew that she had the power to get him\ndismissed, he did so, and the French lost Genoa in consequence. So\nat least some books say, though I am not prepared to vouch for the\nexact truth of the story. For our purpose it is equally apt whether\ntrue or an exaggeration, since it serves to show how far the passion\nfor clothes may carry a woman who has the opportunity to indulge\nit. Dipsomaniacs and nymphomaniacs are obvious examples of the same\nkind of thing. The principle in these matters is fairly obvious.\nAll our separate tastes and desires have to fit into the general\nframework of life. If they are to be a source of happiness they must\nbe compatible with health, with the affection of those whom we love,\nand with the respect of the society in which we live. Some passions\ncan be indulged to almost any extent without passing beyond these\nlimits, others cannot. The man, let us say, who loves chess, if he\nhappens to be a bachelor with independent\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_167\"\u003e[167]\u003c/span\u003e means, need not restrict\nhis passion in any degree, whereas if he has a wife and children and\nno independent means, he will have to restrict it very severely. The\ndipsomaniac and the gormandizer, even if they have no social ties, are\nunwise from a self-regarding point of view, since their indulgence\ninterferes with health, and gives them hours of misery, in return for\nminutes of pleasure. Certain things form a framework within which any\nseparate passion must live if it is not to become a source of misery.\nSuch things are health, the general possession of one’s faculties, a\nsufficient income to provide for necessaries, and the most essential\nsocial duties, such as those towards wife and children. The man\nwho sacrifices these things for chess is essentially as bad as the\ndipsomaniac. The only reason we do not condemn him so severely is that\nhe is much less common, and that only a man of somewhat rare abilities\nis likely to be carried away by absorption in so intellectual a game.\nThe Greek formula of moderation practically covers these cases. The man\nwho likes chess sufficiently to look forward throughout his working\nday to the game that he will play in the evening is fortunate, but\nthe man who gives up work in order to play chess all day has lost the\nvirtue of moderation. It is recorded that Tolstoy, in his younger and\nunregenerate days, was awarded the military cross for valour in the\nfield, but when the time came for him to be presented with it, he was\nso\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_168\"\u003e[168]\u003c/span\u003e absorbed in a game of chess that he decided not to go. We can\nhardly find fault with Tolstoy on this account, since to him it might\nwell be a matter of indifference whether he won military decorations or\nnot, but in a lesser man such an act would have been one of folly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eAs a limitation upon the doctrine that has just been set forth,\nit ought to be admitted that some performances are considered so\nessentially noble as to justify the sacrifice of everything else on\ntheir behalf. The man who loses his life in the defence of his country\nis not blamed if thereby his wife and children are left penniless. The\nman who is engaged in experiments with a view to some great scientific\ndiscovery or invention is not blamed afterwards for the poverty that\nhe has made his family endure, provided that his efforts are crowned\nwith ultimate success. If, however, he never succeeds in making the\ndiscovery or the invention that he was attempting, public opinion\ncondemns him as a crank, which seems unfair, since no one in such\nan enterprise can be sure of success in advance. During the first\nmillennium of the Christian era a man who abandoned his family for a\nsaintly life was praised, though nowadays it would be held that he\nought to make some provision for them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eI think there is always some deep-seated psychological difference\nbetween the gormandizer and the man of healthy appetite. The man in\nwhom one desire runs to excess at the expense of all others\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_169\"\u003e[169]\u003c/span\u003e is usually\na man with some deep-seated trouble, who is seeking to escape from a\nspectre. In the case of the dipsomaniac this is obvious: men drink in\norder to forget. If they had no spectres in their lives, they would\nnot find drunkenness more agreeable than sobriety. As the legendary\nChinaman said: “Me no drinkee for drinkee, me drinkee for drunkee.”\nThis is typical of all excessive and one-sided passions. It is not\npleasure in the object itself that is sought, but oblivion. There is,\nhowever, a very great difference according as oblivion is sought in a\nsottish manner or by the exercise of faculties in themselves desirable.\nBorrow’s friend who taught himself Chinese in order to be able to\nendure the loss of his wife was seeking oblivion, but he sought it in\nan activity that had no harmful effects, but on the contrary improved\nhis intelligence and his knowledge. Against such forms of escape there\nis nothing to be said. It is otherwise with the man who seeks oblivion\nin drinking or gambling or any other form of unprofitable excitement.\nThere are, it is true, border-line cases. What should we say of the man\nwho runs mad risks in aeroplanes or on mountain tops, because life has\nbecome irksome to him? If his risks serve any public object, we may\nadmire him, but if not, we shall have to place him only slightly above\nthe gambler and drunkard.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eGenuine zest, not the sort that is really a search for oblivion, is\npart of the natural make-up of\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_170\"\u003e[170]\u003c/span\u003e human beings except in so far as it\nhas been destroyed by unfortunate circumstances. Young children are\ninterested in everything that they see and hear; the world is full of\nsurprises to them, and they are perpetually engaged with ardour in the\npursuit of knowledge, not, of course, of scholastic knowledge, but\nof the sort that consists in acquiring familiarity with the objects\nthat attract their attention. Animals, even when adult, retain their\nzest provided they are in health. A cat in an unfamiliar room will not\nsit down until it has sniffed at every corner on the off-chance that\nthere may be a smell of mouse somewhere. The man who has never been\nfundamentally thwarted will retain his natural interest in the external\nworld, and so long as he retains it he will find life pleasant unless\nhis liberty is unduly curtailed. Loss of zest in civilized society is\nvery largely due to the restrictions upon liberty which are essential\nto our way of life. The savage hunts when he is hungry, and in so doing\nis obeying a direct impulse. The man who goes to his work every morning\nat a certain hour is actuated fundamentally by the same impulse,\nnamely the need to secure a living, but in his case the impulse does\nnot operate directly and at the moment when it is felt: it operates\nindirectly through abstractions, beliefs and volitions. At the moment\nwhen the man starts off to his work he is not feeling hungry, since he\nhas just had his breakfast. He merely knows that hunger will recur,\nand\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_171\"\u003e[171]\u003c/span\u003e that going to his work is a means of satisfying future hunger.\nImpulses are irregular, whereas habits, in a civilized society, have to\nbe regular. Among savages, even collective enterprises, in so far as\nthey exist, are spontaneous and impulsive. When the tribe is going to\nwar the tom-tom rouses military ardour, and herd excitement inspires\neach individual to the necessary activity. Modern enterprises cannot\nbe managed in this way. When a train has to be started at a given\nmoment it is impossible to inspire the porters, the engine-driver, and\nthe signalman by means of barbaric music. They must each do their job\nmerely because it has to be done; their motive, that is to say, is\nindirect: they have no impulse towards the activity, but only towards\nthe ultimate reward of the activity. A great deal of social life has\nthe same defect. People converse with each other, not from any wish to\ndo so, but because of some ultimate benefit that they hope to derive\nfrom co-operation. At every moment of life the civilized man is hedged\nabout by restrictions of impulse: if he happens to feel cheerful he\nmust not sing or dance in the street, while if he happens to feel sad\nhe must not sit on the pavement and weep, for fear of obstructing\npedestrian traffic. In youth his liberty is restricted at school, in\nadult life it is restricted throughout his working hours. All this\nmakes zest more difficult to retain, for the continual restraint tends\nto produce weariness and boredom. Nevertheless, a civilized\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_172\"\u003e[172]\u003c/span\u003e society\nis impossible without a very considerable degree of restraint upon\nspontaneous impulse, since spontaneous impulse will only produce the\nsimplest forms of social co-operation, not those highly complex forms\nwhich modern economic organization demands. In order to rise above\nthese obstacles to zest a man needs health and superabundant energy,\nor else, if he has that good fortune, work that he finds interesting\non its own account. Health, so far as statistics can show, has been\nsteadily improving in all civilized countries during the last hundred\nyears, but energy is more difficult to measure, and I am doubtful\nwhether physical vigour in moments of health is as great as it was\nformerly. The problem here is to a great extent a social problem, and\nas such I do not propose to discuss it in the present volume. The\nproblem has, however, a personal and psychological aspect which we have\nalready discussed in connection with fatigue. Some men retain their\nzest in spite of the handicaps of civilized life, and many men could do\nso if they were free from the inner psychological conflicts upon which\na great part of their energy is expended. Zest demands energy more that\nsufficient for the necessary work, and this in turn demands the smooth\nworking of the psychological machine. Of the causes promoting the\nsmooth working I shall have more to say in later chapters.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIn women, less nowadays than formerly, but still\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_173\"\u003e[173]\u003c/span\u003e to a very large\nextent, zest has been greatly diminished by a mistaken conception of\nrespectability. It was thought undesirable that women should take an\nobvious interest in men, or that they should display too much vivacity\nin public. In learning not to be interested in men they learned very\nfrequently to be interested in nothing, or at any rate in nothing\nexcept a certain kind of correct behaviour. To teach an attitude of\ninactivity and withdrawal towards life is clearly to teach something\nvery inimical to zest, and to encourage a certain kind of absorption in\nself which is characteristic of highly respectable women, especially\nwhen they are uneducated. They do not have the interest in sport that\naverage men have, they care nothing about politics, towards men their\nattitude is one of prim aloofness, towards women their attitude is\none of veiled hostility based upon the conviction that other women\nare less respectable than they are themselves. They boast that they\nkeep themselves to themselves; that is to say, their lack of interest\nin their fellow creatures appears to them in the light of a virtue.\nFor this, of course, they are not to blame; they are only accepting\nthe moral teaching that has been current for thousands of years where\nwomen are concerned. They are, however, victims, much to be pitied, of\na system of repression whose iniquity they have failed to perceive. To\nsuch women all that is ungenerous appears good and all that is generous\nappears evil. In their\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_174\"\u003e[174]\u003c/span\u003e own social circle they do what they can to kill\njoy, in politics they love repressive legislation. Fortunately the type\nis growing less common, but it is still far more prevalent than is\nsupposed by those who live in emancipated circles. I recommend anyone\nwho doubts this statement to go the round of a number of lodging-houses\nseeking a lodging, and to take note of the landladies that he will meet\nduring his search. He will find that they are living by a conception of\nfemale excellence which involves as an essential part the destruction\nof all zest for life, and that their minds and hearts are dwarfed\nand stunted as a result. Between male and female excellence rightly\nconceived there is no difference, or at any rate no difference such\nas tradition inculcates. For women as for men zest is the secret of\nhappiness and well-being.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_175\"\u003e[175]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER XII\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eAFFECTION\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOne of the chief causes of lack of zest is the feeling that one is\nunloved, whereas conversely the feeling of being loved promotes\nzest more than anything else does. A man may have the feeling of\nbeing unloved for a variety of reasons. He may consider himself such\na dreadful person that no one could possibly love him; he may in\nchildhood have had to accustom himself to receiving less love than\nfell to the share of other children; or he may in fact be a person\nwhom nobody loves. But in this latter event the cause probably lies\nin a lack of self-confidence due to early misfortune. The man who\nfeels himself unloved may take various attitudes as a result. He\nmay make desperate efforts to win affection, probably by means of\nexceptional acts of kindness. In this, however, he is very likely to be\nunsuccessful, since the motive of the kindnesses is easily perceived\nby their beneficiaries, and human nature is so constructed that it\ngives affection most readily to those who seem least to demand it. The\nman, therefore, who endeavours to purchase affection by benevolent\nactions becomes disillusioned by experience of human ingratitude. It\nnever occurs to him that the affection which he is trying to buy is\nof far more value than the material benefits which he offers as its\nprice, and yet the feeling that\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_176\"\u003e[176]\u003c/span\u003e this is so is at the basis of his\nactions. Another man, observing that he is unloved, may seek revenge\nupon the world, either by stirring up wars and revolutions, or by a\npen dipped in gall, like Dean Swift. This is an heroic reaction to\nmisfortune, requiring a force of character sufficient to enable a\nman to pit himself against the rest of the world. Few men are able\nto reach such heights; the great majority, both of men and women, if\nthey feel themselves unloved, sink into a timid despair relieved only\nby occasional gleams of envy and malice. As a rule, the lives of such\npeople become extremely self-centred, and the absence of affection\ngives them a sense of insecurity from which they instinctively seek\nto escape by allowing habit to dominate their lives utterly and\ncompletely. For those who make themselves the slaves of unvarying\nroutine are generally actuated by fear of a cold outer world, and by\nthe feeling that they will not bump into it if they walk along the same\npaths that they have walked along on previous days.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThose who face life with a feeling of security are much happier than\nthose who face it with a feeling of insecurity, at any rate so long\nas their sense of security does not lead them to disaster. And in a\nvery great many cases, though not in all, a sense of security will\nitself help a man to escape dangers to which another would succumb.\nIf you are walking over a chasm on a narrow plank, you are much more\nlikely to fall if you feel fear than if you do not.\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_177\"\u003e[177]\u003c/span\u003e And the same thing\napplies to the conduct of life. The fearless man may, of course, meet\nwith sudden disaster, but it is likely that he will pass unscathed\nthrough many difficult situations in which a timid man would come to\ngrief. This useful kind of self-confidence has, of course, innumerable\nforms. One man is confident on mountains, another on the sea, and yet\nanother in the air. But general self-confidence towards life comes more\nthan anything else from being accustomed to receive as much of the\nright sort of affection as one has need for. And it is this habit of\nmind considered as a source of zest that I wish to speak about in the\npresent chapter.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIt is affection received, not affection given, that causes this\nsense of security, though it arises most of all from affection\nwhich is reciprocal. Strictly speaking, it is not only affection\nbut also admiration that has this effect. Persons whose trade is to\nsecure public admiration, such as actors, preachers, speakers, and\npoliticians, come to depend more and more upon applause. When they\nreceive their due meed of public approbation their life is full of\nzest; when they do not, they become discontented and self-centred.\nThe diffused good will of a multitude does for them what is done\nfor others by the more concentrated affection of the few. The child\nwhose parents are fond of him accepts their affection as a law of\nnature. He does not think very much about it, although it is of great\nimportance to his happiness. He thinks about the world, about the\nadventures\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_178\"\u003e[178]\u003c/span\u003e that come his way and the more marvellous adventures that\nwill come his way when he is grown up. But behind all these external\ninterests there is the feeling that he will be protected from disaster\nby parental affection. The child from whom for any reason parental\naffection is withdrawn is likely to become timid and unadventurous,\nfilled with fears and self-pity, and no longer able to meet the world\nin a mood of gay exploration. Such a child may set to work at a\nsurprisingly early age to meditate on life and death and human destiny.\nHe becomes an introvert, melancholy at first, but seeking ultimately\nthe unreal consolations of some system of philosophy or theology. The\nworld is a higgledy-piggledy place, containing things pleasant and\nthings unpleasant in haphazard sequence. And the desire to make an\nintelligible system or pattern out of it is at bottom an outcome of\nfear, in fact a kind of agoraphobia or dread of open spaces. Within\nthe four walls of his library the timid student feels safe. If he can\npersuade himself that the universe is equally tidy, he can feel almost\nequally safe when he has to venture forth into the streets. Such a man,\nif he had received more affection, would have feared the real world\nless, and would not have had to invent an ideal world to take its place\nin his beliefs.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eBy no means all affection, however, has this effect in encouraging\nadventurousness. The affection given must be itself robust rather than\ntimid, desiring excellence even more than safety on the part of its\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_179\"\u003e[179]\u003c/span\u003e\nobject, though of course by no means indifferent to safety. The timid\nmother or nurse, who is perpetually warning children against disasters\nthat may occur, who thinks that every dog will bite and that every cow\nis a bull, may produce in them a timidity equal to her own, and may\ncause them to feel that they are never safe except in her immediate\nneighbourhood. To the unduly possessive mother this feeling on the\npart of a child may be agreeable: she may desire his dependence upon\nherself more than his capacity to cope with the world. In that case\nher child is probably worse off in the long run than he would be if he\nwere not loved at all. The habits of mind formed in early years are\nlikely to persist through life. Many people when they fall in love look\nfor a little haven of refuge from the world, where they can be sure of\nbeing admired when they are not admirable, and praised when they are\nnot praiseworthy. To many men home is a refuge from the truth: it is\ntheir fears and their timidities that make them enjoy a companionship\nin which these feelings are put to rest. They seek from their wives\nwhat they obtained formerly from an unwise mother, and yet they are\nsurprised if their wives regard them as grown-up children.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eTo define the best kind of affection is not altogether easy, since\nclearly there will be \u003ci\u003esome\u003c/i\u003e protective element in it. We do\nnot feel indifferent to the hurts of people whom we love. I think,\nhowever, that apprehension of misfortune, as opposed to\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_180\"\u003e[180]\u003c/span\u003e sympathy\nwith a misfortune that has actually occurred, should play as small a\npart as possible in affection. Fear for others is only a shade better\nthan fear for ourselves. Moreover, it is very often a camouflage for\npossessiveness. It is hoped that by rousing their fears a more complete\nempire over them can be obtained. This, of course, is one of the\nreasons why men have liked timid women, since by protecting them they\ncame to own them. The amount of solicitude of which a person can be the\nobject without damage to himself depends upon his character: a person\nwho is hardy and adventurous can endure a great deal without damage,\nwhereas a timid person should be encouraged to expect little in this\nway.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eAffection received has a two-fold function. We have spoken of it\nhitherto in connection with security, but in adult life it has an even\nmore essential biological purpose, namely parenthood. To be unable\nto inspire sex love is a grave misfortune to any man or woman, since\nit deprives him or her of the greatest joys that life has to offer.\nThis deprivation is almost sure sooner or later to destroy zest and\nproduce introversion. Very frequently, however, previous misfortunes\nin childhood have produced defects of character which are the cause of\nfailure to obtain love in later years. This is perhaps more true where\nmen are concerned than it is as regards women, for on the whole women\ntend to love men for their character while men tend to love\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_181\"\u003e[181]\u003c/span\u003e women for\ntheir appearance. In this respect, it must be said, men show themselves\nthe inferiors of women, for the qualities that men find pleasing in\nwomen are on the whole less desirable than those that women find\npleasing in men. I am not at all sure, however, that it is easier to\nacquire a good character than a good appearance; at any rate, the steps\nnecessary for the latter are better understood and more readily pursued\nby women than are the steps necessary for the former by men.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWe have been speaking hitherto of the affection of which a person is\nthe object. I wish now to speak of the affection that a person gives.\nThis also is of two different kinds, one of which is perhaps the\nmost important expression of a zest for life, while the other is an\nexpression of fear. The former seems to me wholly admirable, while the\nlatter is at best a consolation. If you are sailing in a ship on a fine\nday along a beautiful coast, you admire the coast and feel pleasure in\nit. This pleasure is one derived entirely from looking outward, and has\nnothing to do with any desperate need of your own. If, on the other\nhand, your ship is wrecked and you swim towards the coast, you acquire\nfor it a new kind of love: it represents security against the waves,\nand its beauty or ugliness becomes an unimportant matter. The better\nsort of affection corresponds to the feeling of the man whose ship is\nsecure, the less excellent sort corresponds to that of the shipwrecked\nswimmer. The first of these kinds of affection is\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_182\"\u003e[182]\u003c/span\u003e only possible in so\nfar as a man feels safe, or at any rate is indifferent to such dangers\nas beset him; the latter kind, on the contrary, is caused by the\nfeeling of insecurity. The feeling caused by insecurity is much more\nsubjective and self-centred than the other, since the loved person is\nvalued for services rendered, not for intrinsic qualities. I do not,\nhowever, wish to suggest that this kind of affection has no legitimate\npart to play in life. In fact, almost all real affection contains\nsomething of both kinds in combination, and in so far as affection\ndoes really cure the sense of insecurity, it sets a man free to feel\nagain that interest in the world which in moments of danger and fear\nis obscured. But while recognizing the part that such affection has\nto play in life, we must still hold that it is less excellent than\nthe other kind, since it depends upon fear, and fear is an evil, and\nalso because it is more self-centred. In the best kind of affection\na man hopes for a new happiness rather than for escape from an old\nunhappiness.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe best type of affection is reciprocally life-giving; each receives\naffection with joy and gives it without effort, and each finds the\nwhole world more interesting in consequence of the existence of this\nreciprocal happiness. There is, however, another kind, by no means\nuncommon, in which one person sucks the vitality of the other, one\nreceives what the other gives, but gives almost nothing in return. Some\nvery vital people belong\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_183\"\u003e[183]\u003c/span\u003e to this bloodsucking type. They extract the\nvitality from one victim after another, but while they prosper and grow\ninteresting, those upon whom they live grow pale and dim and dull. Such\npeople use others as means to their own ends, and never consider them\nas ends in themselves. Fundamentally they are not interested in those\nwhom for the moment they think they love; they are interested only in\nthe stimulus to their own activities, perhaps of a quite impersonal\nsort. Evidently this springs from some defect in their nature, but\nit is one not altogether easy either to diagnose or to cure. It is\na characteristic frequently associated with great ambition, and is\nrooted, I should say, in an unduly one-sided view of what makes human\nhappiness. Affection in the sense of a genuine reciprocal interest of\ntwo persons in each other, not solely as means to each other’s good,\nbut rather as a combination having a common good, is one of the most\nimportant elements of real happiness, and the man whose ego is so\nenclosed within steel walls that this enlargement of it is impossible\nmisses the best that life has to offer, however successful he may be\nin his career. Ambition which excludes affection from its purview is\ngenerally the result of some kind of anger or hatred against the human\nrace, produced by unhappiness in youth, by injustices in later life, or\nby any of the causes which lead to persecution mania. A too powerful\nego is a prison from which a man must escape if he is\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_184\"\u003e[184]\u003c/span\u003e to enjoy the\nworld to the full. A capacity for genuine affection is one of the\nmarks of the man who has escaped from this prison of self. To receive\naffection is by no means enough; affection which is received should\nliberate the affection which is to be given, and only where both exist\nin equal measure does affection achieve its best possibilities.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eObstacles, psychological and social, to the blossoming of reciprocal\naffection are a grave evil, from which the world has always suffered\nand still suffers. People are slow to give admiration for fear it\nshould be misplaced; they are slow to bestow affection for fear\nthat they should be made to suffer either by the person upon whom\nthey bestow it or by a censorious world. Caution is enjoined both\nin the name of morality and in the name of worldly wisdom, with the\nresult that generosity and adventurousness are discouraged where the\naffections are concerned. All this tends to produce timidity and\nanger against mankind, since many people miss throughout life what is\nreally a fundamental need, and to nine out of ten an indispensable\ncondition of a happy and expansive attitude towards the world. It is\nnot to be supposed that those who are what is called immoral are in\nthis respect superior to those who are not. In sex relations there\nis very often almost nothing that can be called real affection; not\ninfrequently there is even a fundamental hostility. Each is trying\nnot to give himself or herself away, each is preserving fundamental\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_185\"\u003e[185]\u003c/span\u003e\nloneliness, each remains intact and therefore unfructified. In such\nexperiences there is no fundamental value. I do not say that they\nshould be carefully avoided, since the steps necessary to this end\nwould be likely to interfere also with the occasions where a more\nvaluable and profound affection could grow up. But I do say that the\nonly sex relations that have real value are those in which there is no\nreticence and in which the whole personality of both becomes merged in\na new collective personality. Of all forms of caution, caution in love\nis perhaps the most fatal to true happiness.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_186\"\u003e[186]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER XIII\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eTHE FAMILY\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOf all the institutions that have come down to us from the past none\nis in the present day so disorganized and derailed as the family.\nAffection of parents for children and of children for parents is\ncapable of being one of the greatest sources of happiness, but in\nfact at the present day the relations of parents and children are, in\nnine cases out of ten, a source of unhappiness to both parties, and\nin ninety-nine cases out of a hundred a source of unhappiness to at\nleast one of the two parties. This failure of the family to provide\nthe fundamental satisfaction which in principle it is capable of\nyielding is one of the most deep-seated causes of the discontent which\nis prevalent in our age. The adult who wishes to have a happy relation\nwith his own children or to provide a happy life for them must reflect\ndeeply upon parenthood, and, having reflected, must act wisely. The\nsubject of the family is far too vast to be dealt with in this volume\nexcept in relation to our own special problem, namely the conquest of\nhappiness. And even in relation to that problem we can deal with it\nonly in so far as amelioration lies within the power of each individual\nwithout alterations in the social structure.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThis is, of course, a very grave limitation, for the causes of family\nunhappiness in our day are of the\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_187\"\u003e[187]\u003c/span\u003e most diverse sorts, psychological,\neconomic, social, educational, and political. Where the well-to-do\nsections of the community are concerned, two causes have combined to\nmake women feel parenthood a burden far heavier than it was ever felt\nto be in former times. These two causes are, on the one hand, the\nopening of careers to single women; on the other hand, the decay of\ndomestic service. In old days women were driven into marriage by the\nintolerable conditions of life for the spinster. The spinster had to\nlive at home in economic dependence, first upon her father, and then\nupon some reluctant brother. She had no occupations to fill her days\nand no liberty to enjoy herself outside the sheltered walls of the\nfamily mansion. She had neither the opportunity nor the inclination\nfor sexual adventure, which she herself profoundly believed to be an\nabomination except within marriage. If, in spite of all safeguards,\nshe lost her virtue through the wiles of some designing fascinator,\nher situation was pitiable in the extreme. It is delineated quite\naccurately in \u003ci\u003eThe Vicar of Wakefield\u003c/i\u003e:\u003c/p\u003e\n\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry-container\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"stanza\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eThe only art her guilt to cover,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eTo hide her shame from ev’ry eye,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eTo give repentance to her lover\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eAnd wring his bosom is—to die.\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-left\"\u003eThe modern spinster does not consider death necessary in these\ncircumstances. If she has had a good education, she has no difficulty\nin making a comfortable living, and is therefore independent\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_188\"\u003e[188]\u003c/span\u003e of\nparental approval. Since parents have lost their economic power over\ntheir daughters, they have become much more chary of expressing moral\ndisapproval of them; there is not much use in scolding a person who\nwon’t stay to be scolded. The unmarried young woman of the professional\nclasses is therefore able nowadays, provided she is not below the\naverage in intelligence and attractiveness, to enjoy a thoroughly\nagreeable life so long as she can keep free from the desire for\nchildren. But if this desire overwhelms her, she is compelled to\nmarry, and almost certainly to lose her job. She sinks to a much lower\nlevel of comfort than that to which she has been accustomed, since\nher husband’s income is very likely no larger than that which she was\npreviously earning, and has to provide for a family instead of only a\nsingle woman. After having enjoyed independence, she finds it galling\nto have to look to another for every penny of necessary expenditure.\nFor all these reasons such women hesitate to embark upon maternity.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eA woman who nevertheless does take the plunge finds herself, as\ncompared with the women of former generations, confronted with a new\nand appalling problem, namely the paucity and bad quality of domestic\nservice. In consequence of this, she becomes tied to her house,\ncompelled to perform herself a thousand trivial tasks quite unworthy\nof her ability and training, or, if she does not perform them herself,\nto ruin her temper by scolding the\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_189\"\u003e[189]\u003c/span\u003e maids who neglect them. In regard\nto the physical care of her children, if she has taken pains to\nbecome well-informed in this matter, she finds that it is impossible,\nwithout grave risk of disaster, to entrust the children to nurses, or\neven to leave to others the most elementary precautions in regard to\ncleanliness and hygiene, unless she can afford a nurse who has had\nan expensive training at some institute. Weighed down by a mass of\ntrivial detail, she is fortunate indeed if she does not soon lose all\nher charm and three-quarters of her intelligence. Too often through\nthe mere performance of necessary duties such women become wearisome\nto their husbands and a nuisance to their children. When the evening\ncomes and her husband returns from his work, the woman who talks\nabout her day-time troubles is a bore, and the woman who does not is\nabsent-minded. In relation to her children, the sacrifices that she\nhas made in order to have them are so present to her mind that she\nis almost sure to demand more reward than it is desirable to expect,\nwhile the constant habit of attending to trivial details will have made\nher fussy and small-minded. This is the most pernicious of all the\ninjustices that she has to suffer: that in consequence of doing her\nduty by her family she has lost their affection, whereas if she had\nneglected them and remained gay and charming they would probably have\nloved her.\u003ca id=\"FNanchor_4\" href=\"#Footnote_4\" class=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[4]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_190\"\u003e[190]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThese troubles are essentially economic, and so is another which is\nalmost equally grave. I mean the difficulties in regard to housing\nwhich result from the concentration of populations in large cities. In\nthe Middle Ages cities were as rural as the country is now. Children\nstill sing the nursery rhyme:\u003c/p\u003e\n\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry-container\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"poetry\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv class=\"stanza\"\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eUpon Paul’s steeple stands a tree\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eAs full of apples as may be,\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eThe little boys of London town\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eThey run with sticks to knock them down.\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eAnd then they run from hedge to hedge\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003cdiv\u003eUntil they come to London Bridge.\u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"p-left\"\u003ePaul’s steeple is gone, and I do not know at what date the hedges\ndisappeared between St. Paul’s and London Bridge. It is many centuries\nsince the little boys of London town could enjoy such pleasures as\nthis rhyme suggests, but until not so very long ago the bulk of the\npopulation lived in the country. The towns were not very vast; it was\neasy to get out of them, and by no means uncommon to find gardens\nattached to many houses in them. Nowadays there is in England an\nimmense preponderance of the urban over the rural population. In\nAmerica this preponderance is as yet slight, but it is very rapidly\nincreasing. Cities like London and New York are so large that it takes\na very long time to get out of them. Those who live in the city usually\nhave to be content with a flat, to which, of course, not a square\ninch of soil is attached, and in which people of moderate means have\nto be content with\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_191\"\u003e[191]\u003c/span\u003e the absolute minimum of space. If there are young\nchildren, life in a flat is difficult. There is no room for them to\nplay, and there is no room for their parents to get away from their\nnoise. Consequently professional men tend more and more to live in the\nsuburbs. This is undoubtedly desirable from the point of view of the\nchildren, but it adds considerably to the fatigue of the man’s life,\nand greatly diminishes the part which he can play in the family.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eSuch large economic problems, however, it is not my intention to\ndiscuss, since they lie outside the problem with which we are\nconcerned, namely what the individual can here and now do to find\nhappiness. We come nearer to this problem when we pass to the\npsychological difficulties which exist in the present age in the\nrelations of parents and children. These are really part of the\nproblems raised by democracy. In old days there were masters and\nslaves: the masters decided what was to be done, and on the whole\nliked their slaves, since their slaves ministered to their happiness.\nThe slaves may possibly have hated their masters, though this did\nnot happen nearly so universally as democratic theory would have\nus suppose. But even if they did hate their masters, their masters\nremained unaware of this fact, and the masters at any rate were\nhappy. With the general acceptance of democratic theory all this was\nchanged: slaves who had acquiesced before ceased to acquiesce; masters\nwho had formerly had no doubts as to their rights became\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_192\"\u003e[192]\u003c/span\u003e hesitant\nand uncertain. Friction arose and caused unhappiness on both sides.\nI am not saying all this as an argument against democracy, for the\ntroubles in question are only such as are inevitable in any important\ntransition. But it is no use to blink the fact that, while this\ntransition is in progress, it makes the world uncomfortable.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe change in the relation between parents and children is a particular\nexample of the general spread of democracy. Parents are no longer sure\nof their rights as against their children; children no longer feel\nthat they owe respect to their parents. The virtue of obedience, which\nwas formerly exacted without question, has become unfashionable, and\nrightly so. Psycho-analysis has terrified educated parents with the\nfear of the harm they may unwittingly do their children. If they kiss\nthem, they may produce an Œdipus complex; if they do not they may\nproduce a fury of jealousy. If they order the children to do things\nthey may be producing a sense of sin; if they do not, the children\nacquire habits which the parents think undesirable. When they see their\nbaby sucking his thumb, they draw all kinds of terrifying inferences,\nbut they are quite at a loss as to what to do to stop him. Parenthood,\nwhich used to be a triumphant exercise of power, has become timid,\nanxious, and filled with conscientious doubts. The old simple joys are\nlost, and that at the very moment when, owing to the new freedom of\nsingle women, the mother has had to\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_193\"\u003e[193]\u003c/span\u003e sacrifice much more than formerly\nin deciding upon maternity. In these circumstances conscientious\nmothers ask too little of their children, and unconscientious mothers\nask too much. Conscientious mothers restrain their natural affection\nand become shy; unconscientious mothers seek in their children a\ncompensation for the joys that they have had to forgo. In the one\ncase the child’s affections are starved, in the other they are\nover-stimulated. In neither case is there any of that simple and\nnatural happiness that the family at its best can provide.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIn view of all these troubles, is it any wonder that the birth-rate\ndeclines? The decline of the birth-rate in the population at large has\nreached a point which shows that the population will soon begin to\ndwindle, but among the well-to-do classes this point has long ago been\npassed, not only in one country, but in practically all the most highly\ncivilized countries. There are not very many statistics available as\nto the birth-rate among the well-to-do, but two facts may be quoted\nfrom Jean Ayling’s book alluded to above. It appears that in Stockholm\nin the years 1919 to 1922 the fertility of professional women was only\none-third of that of the population at large, and that among the four\nthousand graduates of Wellesley College, U.S.A., in the period 1896\nto 1913 the total number of children is about three thousand, whereas\nto prevent an actual dwindling of the stock there should have been\neight thousand children none of whom had\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_194\"\u003e[194]\u003c/span\u003e died young. There can be\nno doubt that the civilization produced by the white races has this\nsingular characteristic, that in proportion as men and women absorb\nit, they become sterile. The most civilized are the most sterile; the\nleast civilized are the most fertile; and between the two there is a\ncontinual gradation. At present the most intelligent sections of the\nWestern nations are dying out. Within a very few years the Western\nnations as a whole will be diminishing in numbers except in so far\nas their stocks are replenished by immigration from less civilized\nregions. And as soon as the immigrants acquire the civilization of\nthe country of their adoption they in turn will become comparatively\nsterile. It is clear that a civilization which has this characteristic\nis unstable; unless it can be induced to reproduce its numbers, it\nmust sooner or later die out and give place to some other civilization\nin which the urge towards parenthood has retained enough strength to\nprevent the population from declining.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOfficial moralists in every Western country have endeavoured to treat\nthis problem by means of exhortations and sentimentality. On the one\nhand, they say that it is the duty of every married couple to have\nas many children as God wills, regardless of any prospect that such\nchildren may have of health and happiness. On the other hand, male\ndivines prate about the sacred joys of motherhood and pretend that a\nlarge family of diseased and\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_195\"\u003e[195]\u003c/span\u003e poverty-stricken infants is a source\nof happiness. The State joins in with the argument that an adequate\ncrop of cannon fodder is necessary, for how can all these exquisite\nand ingenious weapons of destruction function adequately unless there\nare sufficient populations left for them to destroy? Strange to say,\nthe individual parent, even if he accepts these arguments as applied\nto others, remains entirely deaf to them as applied to himself. The\npsychology of the divines and the patriots is at fault. The divines\nmay succeed so long as they can successfully threaten hell-fire, but\nit is only a minority of the population that now takes this threat\nseriously. And no threat short of this is adequate to control behaviour\nin a matter so essentially private. As for the State, its argument\nis altogether too ferocious. People may agree that others ought to\nprovide cannon fodder, but they are not attracted by the prospect of\nhaving their own children used in this way. All that the State can do,\ntherefore, is to endeavour to keep the poor in ignorance, an effort\nwhich, as the statistics show, is singularly unsuccessful except in\nthe most backward of Western countries. Very few men or women will\nhave children from a sense of public duty, even if it were far clearer\nthan it is that any such public duty exists. When men and women have\nchildren, they do so either because they believe that children will\nadd to their happiness, or because they do not know how to prevent\nthem. The latter reason\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_196\"\u003e[196]\u003c/span\u003e still operates very powerfully, but it is\nsteadily diminishing in potency. And nothing that either the State\nor the Churches can do will prevent this diminution from continuing.\nIt is necessary, therefore, if the white races are to survive, that\nparenthood should again become capable of yielding happiness to parents.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWhen one considers human nature apart from the circumstances of the\npresent day, it is clear, I think, that parenthood is psychologically\ncapable of providing the greatest and most enduring happiness that\nlife has to offer. This, no doubt, is more true of women than of men,\nbut it is more true of men than most moderns are inclined to suppose.\nIt is taken for granted in almost all literature before the present\nage. Hecuba cares more for her children than for Priam; MacDuff cares\nmore for his children than for his wife. In the Old Testament both men\nand women are passionately concerned to leave descendants; in China\nand Japan this attitude has persisted down to our own day. It will be\nsaid that this desire is due to ancestor worship. I think, however,\nthat the contrary is the truth, namely that ancestor worship is a\nreflection of the interest people take in the persistence of their\nfamily. Reverting to the professional women whom we were considering\na moment ago, it is clear that the urge to have children must be very\npowerful, for otherwise none of them would make the sacrifices required\nin order to satisfy it. For my own part,\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_197\"\u003e[197]\u003c/span\u003e speaking personally, I have\nfound the happiness of parenthood greater than any other that I have\nexperienced. I believe that when circumstances lead men or women to\nforgo this happiness, a very deep need remains ungratified, and that\nthis produces a dissatisfaction and listlessness of which the cause\nmay remain quite unknown. To be happy in this world, especially when\nyouth is past, it is necessary to feel oneself not merely an isolated\nindividual whose day will soon be over, but part of the stream of life\nflowing on from the first germ to the remote and unknown future. As a\nconscious sentiment, expressed in set terms, this involves no doubt\na hyper-civilized and intellectual outlook upon the world, but as a\nvague instinctive emotion it is primitive and natural, and it is its\nabsence that is hyper-civilized. A man who is capable of some great\nand remarkable achievement which sets its stamp upon future ages may\ngratify this feeling through his work, but for men and women who have\nno exceptional gifts, the only way to do so is through children. Those\nwho have allowed their procreative impulses to become atrophied have\nseparated themselves from the stream of life, and in so doing have\nrun a grave risk of becoming desiccated. For them, unless they are\nexceptionally impersonal, death ends all. The world that shall come\nafter them does not concern them, and because of this their doings\nappear to themselves trivial and unimportant. To the man or woman\nwho has children and\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_198\"\u003e[198]\u003c/span\u003e grandchildren and loves them with a natural\naffection, the future is important, at any rate to the limit of their\nlives, not only through morality or through an effort of imagination,\nbut naturally and instinctively. And the man whose interests have\nbeen stretched to this extent beyond his personal life is likely to\nbe able to stretch them still further. Like Abraham, he will derive\nsatisfaction from the thought that his seed are to inherit the promised\nland even if this is not to happen for many generations. And through\nsuch feelings he is saved from the sense of futility which otherwise\ndeadens all his emotions.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe basis of the family is, of course, the fact that parents feel a\nspecial kind of affection towards their own children, different from\nthat which they feel towards each other or towards other children. It\nis true that some parents feel little or no parental affection, and\nit is also true that some women are capable of feeling an affection\nfor children not their own almost as strong as that which they could\nfeel for their own. Nevertheless, the broad fact remains that parental\naffection is a special kind of feeling which the normal human being\nexperiences towards his or her own children, but not towards any\nother human being. This emotion is one which we inherit from our\nanimal ancestors. In this respect Freud seems to me not sufficiently\nbiological in his outlook, for anyone who will observe an animal mother\nwith her young can see\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_199\"\u003e[199]\u003c/span\u003e that her behaviour towards them follows an\nentirely different pattern from her behaviour towards the male with\nwhom she has sex relations. And this same different and instinctive\npattern, though in a modified and less definite form, exists among\nhuman beings. If it were not for this special emotion there would be\nalmost nothing to be said for the family as an institution, since\nchildren might equally well be left to the care of professionals. As\nthings are, however, the special affection which parents have for\nchildren, provided their instincts are not atrophied, is of value both\nto the parents themselves and to the children. The value of parental\naffection to children lies largely in the fact that it is more reliable\nthan any other affection. One’s friends like one for one’s merits,\none’s lovers for one’s charms; if the merits or the charms diminish,\nfriends and lovers may vanish. But it is in times of misfortune that\nparents are most to be relied upon, in illness, and even in disgrace\nif the parents are of the right sort. We all feel pleasure when we are\nadmired for our merits, but most of us are sufficiently modest at heart\nto feel that such admiration is precarious. Our parents love us because\nwe are their children, and this is an unalterable fact, so that we feel\nmore safe with them than with anyone else. In times of success this may\nseem unimportant, but in times of failure it affords a consolation and\na security not to be found elsewhere.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIn all human relations it is fairly easy to secure\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_200\"\u003e[200]\u003c/span\u003e happiness for one\nparty, but much more difficult to secure it for both. The gaoler may\nenjoy guarding the prisoner; the employer may enjoy browbeating the\nemployee; the ruler may enjoy governing his subjects with a firm hand;\nand the old-fashioned father no doubt enjoyed instilling virtue into\nhis son by means of the rod. These, however, are one-sided pleasures;\nto the other party in the transaction the situation is less agreeable.\nWe have come to feel that there is something unsatisfactory about\nthese one-sided delights: we believe that a good human relation should\nbe satisfying to both parties. This applies more particularly to the\nrelations of parents and children, with the result that parents obtain\nfar less pleasure from children than they did formerly, while children\nreciprocally suffer less at the hands of their parents than they did\nin bygone generations. I do not think there is any real reason why\nparents should derive less happiness from their children than they did\nin former times, although undoubtedly this is the case at present.\nNor do I think that there is any reason why parents should fail to\nincrease the happiness of their children. But this requires, as do all\nthose equal relationships at which the modern world aims, a certain\ndelicacy and tenderness, a certain reverence for another personality,\nwhich are by no means encouraged by the pugnacity of ordinary life.\nLet us consider the happiness of parenthood, first in its biological\nessence, and then as it may become in a parent\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_201\"\u003e[201]\u003c/span\u003e inspired by that kind\nof attitude towards other personalities which we have been suggesting\nas essential to a world that believes in equality.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe primitive root of the pleasure of parenthood is two-fold. On the\none hand there is the feeling of part of one’s own body externalized,\nprolonging its life beyond the death of the rest of one’s body, and\npossibly in its turn externalizing part of itself in the same fashion,\nand so securing the immortality of the germ-plasm. On the other hand\nthere is an intimate blend of power and tenderness. The new creature\nis helpless, and there is an impulse to supply its needs, an impulse\nwhich gratifies not only the parent’s love towards the child, but\nalso the parent’s desire for power. So long as the infant is felt to\nbe helpless, the affection which is bestowed upon it does not feel\nunselfish, since it is in the nature of protection to a vulnerable\nportion of oneself. But from a very early age there comes to be a\nconflict between love of parental power and desire for the child’s\ngood, for, while power over the child is to a certain extent decreed\nby the nature of things, it is nevertheless desirable that the child\nshould as soon as possible learn to be independent in as many ways as\npossible, which is unpleasant to the power impulse in a parent. Some\nparents never become conscious of this conflict, and remain tyrants\nuntil the children are in a position to rebel. Others, however, become\nconscious of it, and thus find themselves a prey to conflicting\nemotions. In this\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_202\"\u003e[202]\u003c/span\u003e conflict their parental happiness is lost. After\nall the care that they have bestowed on the child, they find to their\nmortification that he turns out quite different from what they had\nhoped. They wanted him to be a soldier, and they find him a pacifist,\nor, like Tolstoy, they wanted him to be a pacifist, and he joins the\nBlack Hundreds. But it is not only in these later developments that\nthe difficulty is felt. If you feed an infant who is already capable\nof feeding himself, you are putting love of power before the child’s\nwelfare, although it seems to you that you are only being kind in\nsaving him trouble. If you make him too vividly aware of dangers, you\nare probably actuated by a desire to keep him dependent upon you. If\nyou give him demonstrative affection to which you expect a response,\nyou are probably endeavouring to grapple him to you by means of his\nemotions. In a thousand ways, great and small, the possessive impulse\nof parents will lead them astray, unless they are very watchful or very\npure in heart. Modern parents, aware of these dangers, sometimes lose\nconfidence in handling their children, and become therefore even less\nable to be of use to them than if they permitted themselves spontaneous\nmistakes, for nothing causes so much worry in a child’s mind as lack\nof certainty and self-confidence on the part of an adult. Better than\nbeing careful, therefore, is to be pure in heart. The parent who\ngenuinely desires the child’s welfare more than his or her\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_203\"\u003e[203]\u003c/span\u003e power over\nthe child will not need textbooks on psycho-analysis to say what should\nand what should not be done, but will be guided aright by impulse.\nAnd in that case the relation of parent and child will be harmonious\nfrom first to last, causing no rebellion in the child and no feeling\nof frustration in the parent. But this demands on the part of the\nparent from the first a respect for the personality of the child—a\nrespect which must be not merely a matter of principle, whether moral\nor intellectual, but something deeply felt with almost mystical\nconviction to such a degree that possessiveness and oppression become\nutterly impossible. It is of course not only towards children that an\nattitude of this sort is desirable: it is very necessary in marriage,\nand in friendship also, though in friendship it is less difficult. In a\ngood world it would pervade the political relations between groups of\nhuman beings, though this is so distant a hope that we need not linger\nover it. But universal as is the need for this kind of gentleness, it\nis needed most of all where children are concerned, because of their\nhelplessness, and because their small size and feeble strength cause\nvulgar souls to despise them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eBut to return to the problems with which this book is concerned, the\nfull joy of parenthood in the modern world is only to be obtained by\nthose who can deeply feel this attitude of respect towards the child\nof which I have been speaking. For to them there will be no irksome\nrestraint upon their love of\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_204\"\u003e[204]\u003c/span\u003e power, and no need to dread the bitter\ndisillusionment which despotic parents experience when their children\nacquire freedom. And to the parent who has this attitude there is more\njoy in parenthood than ever was possible to the despot in the hey-day\nof parental power. For the love that has been purged by gentleness\nof all tendency towards tyranny can give a joy more exquisite, more\ntender, more capable of transmuting the base metal of daily life into\nthe pure gold of mystic ecstasy, than any emotion that is possible to\nthe man still fighting and struggling to maintain his ascendancy in\nthis slippery world.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWhile I attach a very high value to the parental emotion, I do not draw\nthe inference, which is too commonly drawn, that mothers should do as\nmuch as possible themselves for their children. There is a convention\non this subject which was all very well in the days when nothing was\nknown about the care of children except the unscientific odds and ends\nthat old women handed on to younger ones. Nowadays there is a great\ndeal in the care of children which is best done by those who have\nmade a special study of some department of this subject. In relation\nto that part of their education which is \u003ci\u003ecalled\u003c/i\u003e “education”\nthis is recognized. A mother is not expected to teach her son the\ncalculus, however much she may love him. So far as the acquisition of\nbook-learning is concerned, it is recognized that children can acquire\nit better from those who have\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_205\"\u003e[205]\u003c/span\u003e it than from a mother who does not have\nit. But in regard to many other departments in the care of children\nthis is not recognized, because the experience required is not yet\nrecognized. Undoubtedly certain things are better done by the mother,\nbut as the child gets older, there will be an increasing number of\nthings better done by someone else. If this were generally recognized,\nmothers would be saved a great deal of labour which is irksome to them,\nbecause it is not that in which they have professional competence. A\nwoman who has acquired any kind of professional skill ought, both for\nher own sake and for that of the community, to be free to continue to\nexercise this skill in spite of motherhood. She may be unable to do\nso during the later months of pregnancy and during lactation, but a\nchild over nine months old ought not to form an insuperable barrier\nto its mother’s professional activities. Whenever society demands\nof a mother sacrifices to her child which go beyond reason, the\nmother, if she is not unusually saintly, will expect from her child\ncompensations exceeding those she has a right to expect. The mother\nwho is conventionally called self-sacrificing is, in a great majority\nof cases, exceptionally selfish towards her children, for, important\nas parenthood is as an element in life, it is not satisfying if it is\ntreated as the whole of life, and the unsatisfied parent is likely to\nbe an emotionally grasping parent. It is important, therefore, quite\nas much in the interests of the\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_206\"\u003e[206]\u003c/span\u003e children as in those of the mother,\nthat motherhood should not cut her off from all other interests and\npursuits. If she has a real vocation for the care of children and that\namount of knowledge which will enable her to care adequately for her\nown children, her skill ought to be more widely used, and she ought to\nbe engaged professionally in the care of some group of children which\nmay be expected to include her own. It is right that parents, provided\nthey fulfil the minimum requirements insisted upon by the State, should\nhave a say as to how their children are cared for and by whom, so long\nas they do not go outside the ranks of qualified persons. But there\nshould be no convention demanding that every mother should do herself\nwhat some other woman can do better. Mothers who feel baffled and\nincompetent when faced with their children, as many mothers do, should\nhave no hesitation in having their children cared for by women who have\nan aptitude for this work and have undergone the necessary training.\nThere is no heaven-sent instinct which teaches women the right thing\nto do by their children, and solicitude when it goes beyond a point\nis a camouflage for possessiveness. Many a child is psychologically\nruined by ignorant and sentimental handling on the part of its mother.\nIt has always been recognized that fathers cannot be expected to do\nvery much for their children, and yet children are quite as apt to\nlove their fathers as to love their mothers. The\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_207\"\u003e[207]\u003c/span\u003e relation of the\nmother to the child will have in future to resemble more and more that\nwhich at present the father has, if women’s lives are to be freed from\nunnecessary slavery and children are to be allowed to profit by the\nscientific knowledge which is accumulating as to the care of their\nminds and bodies in early years.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_208\"\u003e[208]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER XIV\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eWORK\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWhether work should be placed among the causes of happiness or among\nthe causes of unhappiness may perhaps be regarded as a doubtful\nquestion. There is certainly much work which is exceedingly irksome,\nand an excess of work is always very painful. I think, however, that,\nprovided work is not excessive in amount, even the dullest work is to\nmost people less painful than idleness. There are in work all grades,\nfrom mere relief of tedium up to the profoundest delights, according\nto the nature of the work and the abilities of the worker. Most of\nthe work that most people have to do is not in itself interesting,\nbut even such work has certain great advantages. To begin with, it\nfills a good many hours of the day without the need of deciding what\none shall do. Most people, when they are left free to fill their own\ntime according to their own choice, are at a loss to think of anything\nsufficiently pleasant to be worth doing. And whatever they decide\non, they are troubled by the feeling that something else would have\nbeen pleasanter. To be able to fill leisure intelligently is the last\nproduct of civilization, and at present very few people have reached\nthis level. Moreover, the exercise of choice is in itself tiresome.\nExcept to people with unusual initiative it is positively agreeable to\nbe told what\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_209\"\u003e[209]\u003c/span\u003e to do at each hour of the day, provided the orders are\nnot too unpleasant. Most of the idle rich suffer unspeakable boredom as\nthe price of their freedom from drudgery. At times they may find relief\nby hunting big game in Africa, or by flying round the world, but the\nnumber of such sensations is limited, especially after youth is past.\nAccordingly, the more intelligent rich men work nearly as hard as if\nthey were poor, while rich women for the most part keep themselves busy\nwith innumerable trifles of whose earth-shaking importance they are\nfirmly persuaded.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWork, therefore, is desirable, first and foremost, as a preventive of\nboredom, for the boredom that a man feels when he is doing necessary\nthough uninteresting work is as nothing in comparison with the boredom\nthat he feels when he has nothing to do with his days. With this\nadvantage of work another is associated, namely that it makes holidays\nmuch more delicious when they come. Provided a man does not have to\nwork so hard as to impair his vigour, he is likely to find far more\nzest in his free time than an idle man could possibly find.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe second advantage of most paid work and of some unpaid work is\nthat it gives chances of success and opportunities for ambition. In\nmost work success is measured by income, and while our capitalistic\nsociety continues, this is inevitable. It is only where the best work\nis concerned that this measure ceases to be the natural one to apply.\nThe desire that men feel to increase their income\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_210\"\u003e[210]\u003c/span\u003e is quite as much a\ndesire for success as for the extra comforts that a higher income can\nprocure. However dull work may be, it becomes bearable if it is a means\nof building up a reputation, whether in the world at large or only in\none’s own circle. Continuity of purpose is one of the most essential\ningredients of happiness in the long run, and for most men this comes\nchiefly through their work. In this respect those women whose lives\nare occupied with house-work are much less fortunate than men, or than\nwomen who work outside the home. The domesticated wife does not receive\nwages, has no means of bettering herself, is taken for granted by her\nhusband (who sees practically nothing of what she does), and is valued\nby him not for her house-work but for quite other qualities. Of course,\nthis does not apply to those women who are sufficiently well-to-do to\nmake beautiful houses and beautiful gardens and become the envy of\ntheir neighbours; but such women are comparatively few, and for the\ngreat majority house-work cannot bring as much satisfaction as work of\nother kinds brings to men and to professional women.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe satisfaction of killing time and of affording some outlet, however\nmodest, for ambition, belongs to most work, and is sufficient to make\neven a man whose work is dull happier on the average than a man who has\nno work at all. But when work is interesting, it is capable of giving\nsatisfaction of a far higher order than mere relief from tedium. The\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_211\"\u003e[211]\u003c/span\u003e\nkinds of work in which there is some interest may be arranged in a\nhierarchy. I shall begin with those which are only mildly interesting\nand end with those that are worthy to absorb the whole energies of a\ngreat man.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eTwo chief elements make work interesting: first, the exercise of skill,\nand second, construction.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eEvery man who has acquired some unusual skill enjoys exercising it\nuntil it has become a matter of course, or until he can no longer\nimprove himself. This motive to activity begins in early childhood: a\nboy who can stand on his head becomes reluctant to stand on his feet.\nA great deal of work gives the same pleasure that is to be derived\nfrom games of skill. The work of a lawyer or a politician must contain\nin a more delectable form a great deal of the same pleasure that is\nto be derived from playing bridge. Here, of course, there is not only\nthe exercise of skill but the outwitting of a skilled opponent. Even\nwhere this competitive element is absent, however, the performance of\ndifficult feats is agreeable. A man who can do stunts in an aeroplane\nfinds the pleasure so great that for the sake of it he is willing to\nrisk his life. I imagine that an able surgeon, in spite of the painful\ncircumstances in which his work is done, derives satisfaction from\nthe exquisite precision of his operations. The same kind of pleasure,\nthough in a less intense form, is to be derived from a great deal of\nwork of a humbler kind. I have even heard of plumbers\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_212\"\u003e[212]\u003c/span\u003e who enjoyed\ntheir work, though I have never had the good fortune to meet one. All\nskilled work can be pleasurable, provided the skill required is either\nvariable or capable of indefinite improvement. If these conditions\nare absent, it will cease to be interesting when a man has acquired\nhis maximum skill. A man who runs three-mile races will cease to find\npleasure in this occupation when he passes the age at which he can\nbeat his own previous record. Fortunately there is a very considerable\namount of work in which new circumstances call for new skill and a man\ncan go on improving, at any rate until he has reached middle age. In\nsome kinds of skilled work, such as politics, for example, it seems\nthat men are at their best between sixty and seventy, the reason being\nthat in such occupations a wide experience of other men is essential.\nFor this reason successful politicians are apt to be happier at the age\nof seventy than any other men of equal age. Their only competitors in\nthis respect are the men who are the heads of big businesses.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThere is, however, another element possessed by the best work, which\nis even more important as a source of happiness than is the exercise\nof skill. This is the element of constructiveness. In some work,\nthough by no means in most, something is built up which remains as a\nmonument when the work is completed. We may distinguish construction\nfrom destruction by the following criterion. In construction the\ninitial state of affairs is comparatively\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_213\"\u003e[213]\u003c/span\u003e haphazard, while the final\nstate of affairs embodies a purpose; in destruction the reverse is the\ncase: the initial state of affairs embodies a purpose, while the final\nstate of affairs is haphazard, that is to say, all that is intended by\nthe destroyer is to produce a state of affairs which does not embody\na certain purpose. This criterion applies in the most literal and\nobvious case, namely the construction and destruction of buildings. In\nconstructing a building a previously made plan is carried out, whereas\nin destroying it no one decides exactly how the materials are to lie\nwhen the demolition is complete. Destruction is of course necessary\nvery often as a preliminary to subsequent construction; in that case it\nis part of a whole which is constructive. But not infrequently a man\nwill engage in activities of which the purpose is destructive without\nregard to any construction that may come after. Frequently he will\nconceal this from himself by the belief that he is only sweeping away\nin order to build afresh, but it is generally possible to unmask this\npretence, when it is a pretence, by asking him what the subsequent\nconstruction is to be. On this subject it will be found that he will\nspeak vaguely and without enthusiasm, whereas on the preliminary\ndestruction he has spoken precisely and with zest. This applies to not\na few revolutionaries and militarists and other apostles of violence.\nThey are actuated, usually without their own knowledge, by hatred; the\ndestruction of what they hate is\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_214\"\u003e[214]\u003c/span\u003e their real purpose, and they are\ncomparatively indifferent to the question what is to come after it.\nNow I cannot deny that in the work of destruction as in the work of\nconstruction there may be joy. It is a fiercer joy, perhaps at moments\nmore intense, but it is less profoundly satisfying, since the result is\none in which little satisfaction is to be found. You kill your enemy,\nand when he is dead your occupation is gone, and the satisfaction that\nyou derive from victory quickly fades. The work of construction, on the\nother hand, when completed, is delightful to contemplate, and moreover\nis never so fully completed that there is nothing further to do about\nit. The most satisfactory purposes are those that lead on indefinitely\nfrom one success to another without ever coming to a dead end; and in\nthis respect it will be found that construction is a greater source of\nhappiness than destruction. Perhaps it would be more correct to say\nthat those who find satisfaction in construction find in it greater\nsatisfaction than the lovers of destruction can find in destruction,\nfor if once you have become filled with hate you will not easily derive\nfrom construction the pleasure which another man would derive from it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eAt the same time few things are so likely to cure the habit of hatred\nas the opportunity to do constructive work of an important kind.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe satisfaction to be derived from success in a great constructive\nenterprise is one of the most\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_215\"\u003e[215]\u003c/span\u003e massive that life has to offer,\nalthough unfortunately in its highest forms it is only open to men\nof exceptional ability. Nothing can rob a man of the happiness of\nsuccessful achievement in an important piece of work, unless it be\nthe proof that after all his work was bad. There are many forms of\nsuch satisfaction. The man who by a scheme of irrigation has caused\nthe wilderness to blossom like the rose enjoys it in one of its most\ntangible forms. The creation of an organization may be a work of\nsupreme importance. So is the work of those few statesmen who have\ndevoted their lives to producing order out of chaos, of whom Lenin is\nthe supreme type in our day. The most obvious examples are artists\nand men of science. Shakespeare says of his verse: “So long as men\ncan breathe, or eyes can see, so long lives this.” And it cannot be\ndoubted that the thought consoled him for misfortune. In his sonnets he\nmaintains that the thought of his friend reconciled him to life, but\nI cannot help suspecting that the sonnets he wrote to his friend were\neven more effective for this purpose than the friend himself. Great\nartists and great men of science do work which is in itself delightful;\nwhile they are doing it, it secures them the respect of those whose\nrespect is worth having, which gives them the most fundamental kind\nof power, namely power over men’s thoughts and feelings. They have\nalso the most solid reasons for thinking well of themselves. This\ncombination of fortunate circumstances ought,\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_216\"\u003e[216]\u003c/span\u003e one would think, to\nbe enough to make any man happy. Nevertheless it is not so. Michael\nAngelo, for example, was a profoundly unhappy man and maintained (not,\nI am sure, with truth) that he would not have troubled to produce works\nof art if he had not had to pay the debts of his impecunious relations.\nThe power to produce great art is very often, though by no means\nalways, associated with a temperamental unhappiness, so great that but\nfor the joy which the artist derives from his work he would be driven\nto suicide. We cannot therefore maintain that even the greatest work\nmust make a man happy; we can only maintain that it must make him less\nunhappy. Men of science, however, are far less often temperamentally\nunhappy than artists are, and in the main the men who do great work in\nscience are happy men, whose happiness is derived primarily from their\nwork.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOne of the causes of unhappiness among intellectuals in the present day\nis that so many of them, especially those whose skill is literary, find\nno opportunity for the independent exercise of their talents, but have\nto hire themselves out to rich corporations directed by Philistines,\nwho insist upon their producing what they themselves regard as\npernicious nonsense. If you were to inquire among journalists either in\nEngland or America whether they believed in the policy of the newspaper\nfor which they worked, you would find, I believe, that only a small\nminority do so; the rest, for the sake of a livelihood, prostitute\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_217\"\u003e[217]\u003c/span\u003e\ntheir skill to purposes which they believe to be harmful. Such work\ncannot bring any real satisfaction, and in the course of reconciling\nhimself to the doing of it a man has to make himself so cynical that he\ncan no longer derive whole-hearted satisfaction from anything whatever.\nI cannot condemn men who undertake work of this sort, since starvation\nis too serious an alternative, but I think that where it is possible to\ndo work that is satisfactory to a man’s constructive impulses without\nentirely starving, he will be well advised from the point of view of\nhis own happiness if he chooses it in preference to work much more\nhighly paid but not seeming to him worth doing on its own account.\nWithout self-respect genuine happiness is scarcely possible. And the\nman who is ashamed of his work can hardly achieve self-respect.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe satisfaction of constructive work, though it may, as things are,\nbe the privilege of a minority, can nevertheless be the privilege of\na quite large minority. Any man who is his own master in his work can\nfeel it; so can any man whose work appears to him useful and requires\nconsiderable skill. The production of satisfactory children is a\ndifficult constructive work capable of affording profound satisfaction.\nAny woman who has achieved this can feel that as a result of her labour\nthe world contains something of value which it would not otherwise\ncontain.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eHuman beings differ profoundly in regard to the\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_218\"\u003e[218]\u003c/span\u003e tendency to regard\ntheir lives as a whole. To some men it is natural to do so, and\nessential to happiness to be able to do so with some satisfaction. To\nothers life is a series of detached incidents without directed movement\nand without unity. I think the former sort are more likely to achieve\nhappiness than the latter, since they will gradually build up those\ncircumstances from which they can derive contentment and self-respect,\nwhereas the others will be blown about by the winds of circumstance\nnow this way, now that, without ever arriving at any haven. The habit\nof viewing life as a whole is an essential part both of wisdom and of\ntrue morality, and is one of the things which ought to be encouraged in\neducation. Consistent purpose is not enough to make life happy, but it\nis an almost indispensable condition of a happy life. And consistent\npurpose embodies itself mainly in work.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_219\"\u003e[219]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER XV\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eIMPERSONAL INTERESTS\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\n\u003cp\u003eIn this chapter I wish to consider not those major interests about\nwhich a man’s life is built, but those minor interests which fill his\nleisure and afford relaxation from the tenseness of his more serious\npre-occupations. In the life of the average man his wife and children,\nhis work and his financial position occupy the main part of his anxious\nand serious thought. Even if he has extra-matrimonial love affairs,\nthey probably do not concern him as profoundly in themselves as in\ntheir possible effects upon his home life. The interests which are\nbound up with his work I am not for the present regarding as impersonal\ninterests. A man of science, for example, must keep abreast of research\nin his own line. Towards such research his feelings have the warmth\nand vividness belonging to something intimately concerned with his\ncareer, but if he reads about research in some quite other science with\nwhich he is not professionally concerned he reads in quite a different\nspirit, not professionally, less critically, more disinterestedly. Even\nif he has to use his mind in order to follow what is said, his reading\nis nevertheless a relaxation, because it is not connected with his\nresponsibilities. If the book interests him, his interest is impersonal\nin a sense which cannot be applied to the books upon his own\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_220\"\u003e[220]\u003c/span\u003e subject.\nIt is such interests lying outside the main activities of a man’s life\nthat I wish to speak about in the present chapter.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOne of the sources of unhappiness, fatigue, and nervous strain is\ninability to be interested in anything that is not of practical\nimportance in one’s own life. The result of this is that the conscious\nmind gets no rest from a certain small number of matters, each of\nwhich probably involves some anxiety and some element of worry.\nExcept in sleep the conscious mind is never allowed to lie fallow\nwhile subconscious thought matures its gradual wisdom. The result is\nexcitability, lack of sagacity, irritability, and a loss of sense of\nproportion. All these are both causes and effects of fatigue. As a man\ngets more tired, his external interests fade, and as they fade he loses\nthe relief which they afford him and becomes still more tired. This\nvicious circle is only too apt to end in a breakdown. What is restful\nabout external interests is the fact that they do not call for any\naction. Making decisions and exercising volition are very fatiguing,\nespecially if they have to be done hurriedly and without the help of\nthe subconscious. Men who feel that they must “sleep on it” before\ncoming to an important decision are profoundly right. But it is not\nonly in sleep that the subconscious mental processes can work. They can\nwork also while a man’s conscious mind is occupied elsewhere. The man\nwho can forget his work when it is over and not remember it until\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_221\"\u003e[221]\u003c/span\u003e it\nbegins again next day is likely to do his work far better than the man\nwho worries about it throughout the intervening hours. And it is very\nmuch easier to forget work at the times when it ought to be forgotten\nif a man has many interests other than his work than it is if he has\nnot. It is, however, essential that these interests should not exercise\nthose very faculties which have been exhausted by his day’s work. They\nshould not involve will and quick decision, they should not, like\ngambling, involve any financial element, and they should as a rule\nnot be so exciting as to produce emotional fatigue and preoccupy the\nsubconscious as well as the conscious mind.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eA great many amusements fulfil all these conditions. Watching games,\ngoing to the theatre, playing golf, are all irreproachable from this\npoint of view. For a man of a bookish turn of mind reading unconnected\nwith his professional activities is very satisfactory. However\nimportant a worry may be, it should not be thought about throughout the\nwhole of the waking hours.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIn this respect there is a great difference between men and women. Men\non the whole find it very much easier to forget their work than women\ndo. In the case of women whose work is in the home this is natural,\nsince they do not have the change of place that a man has when he\nleaves the office to help them to acquire a new mood. But if I am not\nmistaken, women whose work is outside the\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_222\"\u003e[222]\u003c/span\u003e home differ from men in\nthis respect almost as much as those who work at home. They find it,\nthat is to say, very difficult to be interested in anything that has\nfor them no practical importance. Their purposes govern their thoughts\nand their activities, and they seldom become absorbed in some wholly\nirresponsible interest. I do not of course deny that exceptions exist,\nbut I am speaking of what seems to me to be the usual rule. In a\nwoman’s college, for example, the women teachers, if no man is present,\ntalk shop in the evening, while in a man’s college the men do not. This\ncharacteristic appears to women as a higher degree of conscientiousness\nthan that of men, but I do not think that in the long run it improves\nthe quality of their work. And it tends to produce a certain narrowness\nof outlook leading not infrequently to a kind of fanaticism.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eAll impersonal interests, apart from their importance as relaxation,\nhave various other uses. To begin with, they help a man to retain his\nsense of proportion. It is very easy to become so absorbed in our\nown pursuits, our own circle, our own type of work, that we forget\nhow small a part this is of the total of human activity and how many\nthings in the world are entirely unaffected by what we do. Why should\none remember this? you may ask. There are several answers. In the\nfirst place, it is good to have as true a picture of the world as is\ncompatible with necessary activities. Each of us is in the world for no\nvery long time, and within\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_223\"\u003e[223]\u003c/span\u003e the few years of his life has to acquire\nwhatever he is to know of this strange planet and its place in the\nuniverse. To ignore our opportunities for knowledge, imperfect as they\nare, is like going to the theatre and not listening to the play. The\nworld is full of things that are tragic or comic, heroic or bizarre or\nsurprising, and those who fail to be interested in the spectacle that\nit offers are forgoing one of the privileges that life has to offer.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThen again a sense of proportion is very valuable and at times very\nconsoling. We are all inclined to get unduly excited, unduly strained,\nunduly impressed with the importance of the little corner of the world\nin which we live, and of the little moment of time comprised between\nour birth and death. In this excitement and over-estimation of our\nown importance there is nothing desirable. True, it may make us work\nharder, but it will not make us work better. A little work directed to\na good end is better than a great deal of work directed to a bad end,\nthough the apostles of the strenuous life seem to think otherwise.\nThose who care much for their work are always in danger of falling\ninto fanaticism, which consists essentially in remembering one or two\ndesirable things while forgetting all the rest, and in supposing that\nin the pursuit of these one or two any incidental harm of other sorts\nis of little account. Against this fanatical temper there is no better\nprophylactic than a large conception of the life of man and his place\nin the universe. This\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_224\"\u003e[224]\u003c/span\u003e may seem a very big thing to invoke in such a\nconnection, but apart from this particular use it is in itself a thing\nof great value.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIt is one of the defects of modern higher education that it has become\ntoo much a training in the acquisition of certain kinds of skill, and\ntoo little an enlargement of the mind and heart by an impartial survey\nof the world. You become absorbed, let us say, in a political contest,\nand work hard for the victory of your own party. So far, so good. But\nit may happen in the course of the contest that some opportunity of\nvictory presents itself which involves the use of methods calculated\nto increase hatred, violence and suspicion in the world. For example,\nyou may find that the best road to victory is to insult some foreign\nnation. If your mental purview is limited to the present, or if you\nhave imbibed the doctrine that what is called efficiency is the only\nthing that matters, you will adopt such dubious means. Through them\nyou will be victorious in your immediate purpose, while the more\ndistant consequences may be disastrous. If, on the other hand, you\nhave as part of the habitual furniture of your mind the past ages of\nman, his slow and partial emergence out of barbarism, and the brevity\nof his total existence in comparison with astronomical epochs—if,\nI say, such thoughts have moulded your habitual feelings, you will\nrealize that the momentary battle upon which you are engaged cannot be\nof such importance as to risk a backward\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_225\"\u003e[225]\u003c/span\u003e step towards the darkness\nout of which we have been slowly emerging. Nay, more, if you suffer\ndefeat in your immediate objective, you will be sustained by the same\nsense of its momentariness that made you unwilling to adopt degrading\nweapons. You will have, beyond your immediate activities, purposes that\nare distant and slowly unfolding, in which you are not an isolated\nindividual but one of the great army of those who have led mankind\ntowards a civilized existence. If you have attained to this outlook,\na certain deep happiness will never leave you, whatever your personal\nfate may be. Life will become a communion with the great of all ages,\nand personal death no more than a negligible incident.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIf I had the power to organize higher education as I should\nwish it to be, I should seek to substitute for the old orthodox\nreligions—which appeal to few among the young, and those as a rule\nthe least intelligent and the most obscurantist—something which is\nperhaps hardly to be called religion, since it is merely a focusing\nof attention upon well-ascertained facts. I should seek to make young\npeople vividly aware of the past, vividly realizing that the future\nof man will in all likelihood be immeasurably longer than his past,\nprofoundly conscious of the minuteness of the planet upon which we live\nand of the fact that life on this planet is only a temporary incident;\nand at the same time with these facts which tend to emphasize the\ninsignificance\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_226\"\u003e[226]\u003c/span\u003e of the individual I should present quite another set\nof facts designed to impress upon the mind of the young the greatness\nof which the individual is capable, and the knowledge that throughout\nall the depths of stellar space nothing of equal value is known to us.\nSpinoza long ago wrote of human bondage and human freedom; his form and\nhis language make his thought difficult of access to all but students\nof philosophy, but the essence of what I wish to convey differs little\nfrom what he has said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eA man who has once perceived, however temporarily and however briefly,\nwhat makes greatness of soul, can no longer be happy if he allows\nhimself to be petty, self-seeking, troubled by trivial misfortunes,\ndreading what fate may have in store for him. The man capable of\ngreatness of soul will open wide the windows of his mind, letting the\nwinds blow freely upon it from every portion of the universe. He will\nsee himself and life and the world as truly as our human limitations\nwill permit; realizing the brevity and minuteness of human life, he\nwill realize also that in individual minds is concentrated whatever of\nvalue the known universe contains. And he will see that the man whose\nmind mirrors the world becomes in a sense as great as the world. In\nemancipation from the fears that beset the slave of circumstance he\nwill experience a profound joy, and through all the vicissitudes of his\noutward life he will remain in the depths of his being a happy man.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_227\"\u003e[227]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eLeaving these large speculations and returning to our more immediate\nsubject, namely the value of impersonal interests, there is another\nconsideration which makes them a great help towards happiness. Even\nin the most fortunate lives there are times when things go wrong.\nFew men except bachelors have never quarrelled with their wives; few\nparents have not endured grave anxiety owing to the illnesses of their\nchildren; few business men have avoided times of financial stress; few\nprofessional men have not known periods when failure stared them in\nthe face. At such times a capacity to become interested in something\noutside the cause of anxiety is an immense boon. At such times, when\nin spite of anxiety there is nothing to be done at the moment, one man\nwill play chess, another will read detective stories, a third will\nbecome absorbed in popular astronomy, a fourth will console himself by\nreading about the excavations at Ur of the Chaldees. Any one of these\nfour is acting wisely, whereas the man who does nothing to distract his\nmind and allows his trouble to acquire a complete empire over him is\nacting unwisely and making himself less fit to cope with his troubles\nwhen the moment for action arrives. Very similar considerations apply\nto irreparable sorrows such as the death of some person deeply loved.\nNo good is done to anyone by allowing oneself to become sunk in grief\non such an occasion. Grief is unavoidable and must be expected, but\neverything that can be done should be done to\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_228\"\u003e[228]\u003c/span\u003e minimize it. It is mere\nsentimentality to aim, as some do, at extracting the very uttermost\ndrop of misery from misfortune. I do not of course deny that a man may\nbe broken by sorrow, but I do say that every man should do his utmost\nto escape this fate, and should seek any distraction, however trivial,\nprovided it is not in itself harmful or degrading. Among those that I\nregard as harmful and degrading I include such things as drunkenness\nand drugs, of which the purpose is to destroy thought, at least for the\ntime being. The proper course is not to destroy thought but to turn\nit into new channels, or at any rate into channels remote from the\npresent misfortune. It is difficult to do this if life has hitherto\nbeen concentrated upon a very few interests and those few have now\nbecome suffused with sorrow. To bear misfortune well when it comes,\nit is wise to have cultivated in happier times a certain width of\ninterests, so that the mind may find prepared for it some undisturbed\nplace suggesting other associations and other emotions than those which\nare making the present difficult to bear.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eA man of adequate vitality and zest will surmount all misfortunes by\nthe emergence after each blow of an interest in life and the world\nwhich cannot be narrowed down so much as to make one loss fatal. To be\ndefeated by one loss or even by several is not something to be admired\nas a proof of sensibility, but something to be deplored as a failure\nin vitality. All our affections are at the mercy of death,\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_229\"\u003e[229]\u003c/span\u003e which may\nstrike down those whom we love at any moment. It is therefore necessary\nthat our lives should not have that narrow intensity which puts the\nwhole meaning and purpose of our life at the mercy of accident.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eFor all these reasons the man who pursues happiness wisely will aim at\nthe possession of a number of subsidiary interests in addition to those\ncentral ones upon which his life is built.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_230\"\u003e[230]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER XVI\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eEFFORT AND RESIGNATION\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe golden mean is an uninteresting doctrine, and I can remember when I\nwas young rejecting it with scorn and indignation, since in those days\nit was heroic extremes that I admired. Truth, however, is not always\ninteresting, and many things are believed because they are interesting\nalthough, in fact, there is little other evidence in their favour. The\ngolden mean is a case in point: it may be an uninteresting doctrine,\nbut in a very great many matters it is a true one.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOne respect in which it is necessary to preserve the golden mean is as\nregards the balance between effort and resignation. Both doctrines have\nhad extreme advocates. The doctrine of resignation has been preached\nby saints and mystics; the doctrine of effort has been preached by\nefficiency experts and muscular Christians. Each of these opposing\nschools has had a part of the truth, but not the whole. I want in this\nchapter to try and strike the balance, and I shall begin with the case\nin favour of effort.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eHappiness is not, except in very rare cases, something that drops\ninto the mouth, like a ripe fruit, by the mere operation of fortunate\ncircumstances. That is why I have called this book \u003ci\u003eThe Conquest of\nHappiness\u003c/i\u003e. For in a world so full of avoidable and unavoidable\nmisfortunes, of illness and psychological\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_231\"\u003e[231]\u003c/span\u003e tangles, of struggle and\npoverty and ill will, the man or woman who is to be happy must find\nways of coping with the multitudinous causes of unhappiness by which\neach individual is assailed. In some rare cases no great effort may\nbe required. A man of easy good nature, who inherits an ample fortune\nand enjoys good health together with simple tastes, may slip through\nlife comfortably and wonder what all the fuss is about; a good-looking\nwoman of an indolent disposition, if she happens to marry a well-to-do\nhusband who demands no exertion from her, and if after marriage she\ndoes not mind growing fat, may equally enjoy a certain lazy comfort,\nprovided she has good luck as regards her children. But such cases\nare exceptional. Most people are not rich; many people are not born\ngood-natured; many people have uneasy passions which make a quiet and\nwell-regulated life seem intolerably boring; health is a blessing which\nno one can be sure of preserving; marriage is not invariably a source\nof bliss. For all these reasons, happiness must be, for most men and\nwomen, an achievement rather than a gift of the gods, and in this\nachievement effort, both inward and outward, must play a great part.\nThe inward effort may include the effort of necessary resignation; for\nthe present, therefore, let us consider only outward effort.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eIn the case of any person, whether man or woman, who has to work for\na living, the need of effort in\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_232\"\u003e[232]\u003c/span\u003e this respect is too obvious to need\nemphasizing. The Indian fakir, it is true, can make a living without\neffort by merely offering a bowl for the alms of the faithful, but in\nWestern countries the authorities do not view with a favourable eye\nthis method of obtaining an income. Moreover, the climate makes it less\npleasant than in hotter and dryer countries: in the winter-time, at any\nrate, few people are so lazy as to prefer idleness out of doors to work\nin heated rooms. Resignation alone, therefore, is not in the West one\nof the roads to fortune.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eTo a very large percentage of men in Western countries, more than a\nbare living is necessary to happiness, since they desire the feeling of\nbeing successful. In some occupations, such, for example, as scientific\nresearch, this feeling can be obtained by men who do not earn a large\nincome, but in the majority of occupations income has become the\nmeasure of success. At this point we touch upon a matter in regard to\nwhich an element of resignation is desirable in most cases, since in a\ncompetitive world conspicuous success is possible only for a minority.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eMarriage is a matter in regard to which effort may or may not be\nnecessary, according to circumstances. Where one sex is in the\nminority, as men are in England and women are in Australia, members\nof that sex require, as a rule, little effort in order to marry as\nthey wish. For members of the sex which is in the majority, however,\nthe opposite is the case.\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_233\"\u003e[233]\u003c/span\u003e The amount of effort and thought expended\nin this direction by women where they are in the majority is obvious\nto anyone who will study the advertisements in women’s magazines.\nMen, where they are in a majority, frequently adopt more expeditious\nmethods, such as skill with the revolver. This is natural, since\na majority of men occurs most frequently on the border-line of\ncivilization. I do not know what men would do if a discriminating\npestilence caused them to become a majority in England; they might have\nto revert to the manners of gallants in a bygone age.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe amount of effort involved in the successful rearing of children is\nso evident that probably no one would deny it. Countries which believe\nin resignation and what is mistakenly called a “spiritual” view of life\nare countries with a high infant mortality. Medicine, hygiene, asepsis,\nsuitable diet, are things not achieved without mundane pre-occupations;\nthey require energy and intelligence directed to the material\nenvironment. Those who think that matter is an illusion are apt to\nthink the same of dirt, and by so thinking to cause their children to\ndie.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eSpeaking more generally, one may say that some kind of power forms the\nnormal and legitimate aim of every person whose natural desires are\nnot atrophied. The kind of power that a man desires depends upon his\npredominant passions; one man desires power over the actions of men,\nanother\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_234\"\u003e[234]\u003c/span\u003e desires power over their thoughts, a third power over their\nemotions. One man desires to change the material environment, another\ndesires the sense of power that comes from intellectual mastery.\nEvery kind of public work involves desire for some kind of power,\nunless it is undertaken solely with a view to the wealth obtainable\nby corruption. The man who is actuated by purely altruistic suffering\ncaused by the spectacle of human misery will, if his suffering is\ngenuine, desire power to alleviate misery. The only man totally\nindifferent to power is the man totally indifferent to his fellow-men.\nSome form of desire for power is therefore to be accepted as part of\nthe equipment of the kind of men out of whom a good community can be\nmade. And every form of desire for power involves, so long as it is\nnot thwarted, a correlative form of effort. To the mentality of the\nWest this conclusion may seem a commonplace, but there are not a few\nin Western countries who coquette with what is called “the wisdom of\nthe East” just at the moment when the East is abandoning it. To them\nperhaps what we have been saying may appear questionable, and if so, it\nhas been worth saying.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eResignation, however, has also its part to play in the conquest of\nhappiness, and it is a part no less essential than that played by\neffort. The wise man, though he will not sit down under preventable\nmisfortunes, will not waste time and emotion upon such as are\nunavoidable, and even such as\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_235\"\u003e[235]\u003c/span\u003e are in themselves avoidable he will\nsubmit to if the time and labour required to avoid them would interfere\nwith the pursuit of some more important object. Many people get into\na fret or a fury over every little thing that goes wrong, and in\nthis way waste a great deal of energy that might be more usefully\nemployed. Even in the pursuit of really important objects it is unwise\nto become so deeply involved emotionally that the thought of possible\nfailure becomes a constant menace to peace of mind. Christianity\ntaught submission to the will of God, and even for those who cannot\naccept this phraseology there should be something of the same kind\npervading all their activities. Efficiency in a practical task is not\nproportional to the emotion that we put into it; indeed, emotion is\nsometimes an obstacle to efficiency. The attitude required is that of\ndoing one’s best while leaving the issue to fate. Resignation is of\ntwo sorts, one rooted in despair, the other in unconquerable hope.\nThe first is bad; the second is good. The man who has suffered such\nfundamental defeat that he has given up hope of serious achievement may\nlearn the resignation of despair, and, if he does, he will abandon all\nserious activity. He may camouflage his despair by religious phrases,\nor by the doctrine that contemplation is the true end of man, but\nwhatever disguise he may adopt to conceal his inward defeat, he will\nremain essentially useless and fundamentally unhappy. The man whose\nresignation is based on unconquerable hope\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_236\"\u003e[236]\u003c/span\u003e acts in quite a different\nway. Hope which is to be unconquerable must be large and impersonal.\nWhatever my personal activities, I may be defeated by death, or by\ncertain kinds of diseases; I may be overcome by my enemies; I may\nfind that I have embarked upon an unwise course which cannot lead to\nsuccess. In a thousand ways the failure of purely personal hopes may be\nunavoidable, but if personal aims have been part of larger hopes for\nhumanity, there is not the same utter defeat when failure comes. The\nman of science who desires to make great discoveries himself may fail\nto do so, or may have to abandon his work owing to a blow on the head,\nbut if he desires profoundly the progress of science and not merely his\npersonal contribution to this object, he will not feel the same despair\nas would be felt by a man whose research had purely egoistic motives.\nThe man who is working for some much needed reform may find all his\nefforts side-tracked by a war, and may be forced to realize that what\nhe has worked for will not come about in his lifetime. But he need\nnot on that account sink into complete despair, provided that he is\ninterested in the future of mankind apart from his own participation in\nit.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe cases we have been considering are those in which resignation\nis most difficult; there are a number of others in which it is much\neasier. These are the cases in which only subsidiary purposes suffer a\ncheck, while the major purposes of life\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_237\"\u003e[237]\u003c/span\u003e continue to offer a prospect\nof success. A man, for example, who is engaged in important work shows\na failure in the desirable kind of resignation if he is distracted by\nmatrimonial unhappiness; if his work is really absorbing, he should\nregard such incidental troubles in the way in which one regards a wet\nday, that is to say, as a nuisance about which it would be foolish to\nmake a fuss.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eSome people are unable to bear with patience even those minor troubles\nwhich make up, if we permit them to do so, a very large part of life.\nThey are furious when they miss a train, transported with rage if their\ndinner is badly cooked, sunk in despair if the chimney smokes, and\nvowing vengeance against the whole industrial order when their clothes\nfail to return from the sanitary steam laundry. The energy that such\npeople waste on trivial troubles would be sufficient, if more wisely\ndirected, to make and unmake empires. The wise man fails to observe the\ndust that the housemaid has not dusted, the potato that the cook has\nnot cooked, and the soot that the sweep has not swept. I do not mean\nthat he takes no steps to remedy these matters, provided he has time\nto do so; I mean only that he deals with them without emotion. Worry\nand fret and irritation are emotions which serve no purpose. Those who\nfeel them strongly may say that they are incapable of overcoming them,\nand I am not sure that they can be overcome by anything short of that\nfundamental resignation of which we\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_238\"\u003e[238]\u003c/span\u003e spoke earlier. The same kind of\nconcentration upon large impersonal hopes which enables a man to bear\npersonal failure in his work, or the troubles of an unhappy marriage,\nwill also make it possible for him to be patient when he misses a train\nor drops his umbrella in the mud. If he is of a fretful disposition, I\nam not sure that anything less than this will cure him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe man who has become emancipated from the empire of worry will find\nlife a much more cheerful affair than it used to be while he was\nperpetually being irritated. Personal idiosyncrasies of acquaintances,\nwhich formerly made him wish to scream, will now seem merely amusing.\nWhen Mr. A. for the three hundred and forty-seventh time relates the\nanecdote of the Bishop of Tierra del Fuego, he amuses himself by noting\nthe score, and feels no inclination to attempt a vain diversion by an\nanecdote of his own. When his bootlace breaks just as he is in a hurry\nto catch an early morning train, he reflects, after the appropriate\nexpletives, that in the history of the cosmos the event in question\nhas no very great importance. When he is interrupted in a proposal\nof marriage by a visit of a tedious neighbour, he considers that all\nmankind have been liable to this disaster, with the exception of Adam,\nand that even he had his troubles. There is no limit to what can be\ndone in the way of finding consolation from minor misfortunes by\nmeans of bizarre analogies and quaint parallels. Every\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_239\"\u003e[239]\u003c/span\u003e civilized man\nor woman has, I suppose, some picture of himself or herself, and is\nannoyed when anything happens that seems to spoil this picture. The\nbest cure is to have not only one picture, but a whole gallery, and to\nselect the one appropriate to the incident in question. If some of the\nportraits are a trifle laughable, so much the better; it is not wise to\nsee oneself all day long as a hero of high tragedy. I do not suggest\nthat one should see oneself always as a clown in comedy, for those who\ndo this are even more irritating; a little tact is required in choosing\na rôle appropriate to the situation. Of course, if you can forget\nyourself and not play a part at all that is admirable. But if playing a\npart has become second nature, consider that you act in repertory, and\nso avoid monotony.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eMany active people are of opinion that the slightest grain of\nresignation, the faintest gleam of humour, would destroy the energy\nwith which they do their work and the determination by which, as\nthey believe, they achieve success. These people, in my opinion, are\nmistaken. Work that is worth doing can be done even by those who do\nnot deceive themselves either as to its importance or as to the ease\nwith which it can be done. Those who can only do their work when\nupheld by self-deception had better first take a course in learning to\nendure the truth before continuing their career, since sooner or later\nthe need of being sustained by myths will cause their work to become\nharmful instead of\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_240\"\u003e[240]\u003c/span\u003e beneficial. It is better to do nothing than to\ndo harm. Half the useful work in the world consists of combating the\nharmful work. A little time spent in learning to appreciate facts is\nnot time wasted, and the work that will be done afterwards is far less\nlikely to be harmful than the work done by those who need a continual\ninflation of their ego as a stimulant to their energy. A certain\nkind of resignation is involved in willingness to face the truth\nabout ourselves; this kind, though it may involve pain in the first\nmoments, affords ultimately a protection—indeed the only possible\nprotection—against the disappointments and disillusionments to which\nthe self-deceiver is liable. Nothing is more fatiguing nor, in the\nlong run, more exasperating than the daily effort to believe things\nwhich daily become more incredible. To be done with this effort is an\nindispensable condition of secure and lasting happiness.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_241\"\u003e[241]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2\u003eCHAPTER XVII\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"subhed\"\u003eTHE HAPPY MAN\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\n\u003cp\u003eHappiness, as is evident, depends partly upon external circumstances\nand partly upon oneself. We have been concerned in this volume with the\npart which depends upon oneself, and we have been led to the view that\nso far as this part is concerned the recipe for happiness is a very\nsimple one. It is thought by many, among whom I think we must include\nMr. Krutch, whom we considered in an earlier chapter, that happiness\nis impossible without a creed of a more or less religious kind. It is\nthought by many who are themselves unhappy that their sorrows have\ncomplicated and highly intellectualized sources. I do not believe that\nsuch things are genuine causes of either happiness or unhappiness;\nI think they are only symptoms. The man who is unhappy will, as a\nrule, adopt an unhappy creed, while the man who is happy will adopt a\nhappy creed; each may attribute his happiness or unhappiness to his\nbeliefs, while the real causation is the other way round. Certain\nthings are indispensable to the happiness of most men, but these are\nsimple things: food and shelter, health, love, successful work and\nthe respect of one’s own herd. To some people parenthood also is\nessential. Where these things are lacking, only the exceptional man can\nachieve happiness, but where\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_242\"\u003e[242]\u003c/span\u003e they are enjoyed, or can be obtained by\nwell-directed effort, the man who is still unhappy is suffering from\nsome psychological maladjustment which, if it is very grave, may need\nthe services of a psychiatrist, but can in ordinary cases be cured by\nthe patient himself, provided he sets about the matter in the right\nway. Where outward circumstances are not definitely unfortunate, a man\nshould be able to achieve happiness, provided that his passions and\ninterests are directed outward, not inward. It should be our endeavour\ntherefore, both in education and in attempts to adjust ourselves to the\nworld, to aim at avoiding self-centred passions and at acquiring those\naffections and those interests which will prevent our thoughts from\ndwelling perpetually upon ourselves. It is not the nature of most men\nto be happy in a prison, and the passions which shut us up in ourselves\nconstitute one of the worst kinds of prisons. Among such passions\nsome of the commonest are fear, envy, the sense of sin, self-pity and\nself-admiration. In all these our desires are centred upon ourselves:\nthere is no genuine interest in the outer world, but only a concern\nlest it should in some way injure us or fail to feed our ego. Fear is\nthe principal reason why men are so unwilling to admit facts and so\nanxious to wrap themselves round in a warm garment of myth. But the\nthorns tear the warm garment and the cold blasts penetrate through the\nrents, and the man who has become accustomed to its warmth suffers\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_243\"\u003e[243]\u003c/span\u003e far\nmore from these blasts than a man who has hardened himself to them from\nthe first. Moreover, those who deceive themselves generally know at\nbottom that they are doing so, and live in a state of apprehension lest\nsome untoward event should force unwelcome realizations upon them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eOne of the great drawbacks to self-centred passions is that they afford\nso little variety in life. The man who loves only himself cannot, it\nis true, be accused of promiscuity in his affections, but he is bound\nin the end to suffer intolerable boredom from the invariable sameness\nof the object of his devotion. The man who suffers from a sense of sin\nis suffering from a particular kind of self-love. In all this vast\nuniverse the thing that appears to him of most importance is that he\nhimself should be virtuous. It is a grave defect in certain forms of\ntraditional religion that they have encouraged this particular kind of\nself-absorption.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe happy man is the man who lives objectively, who has free affections\nand wide interests, who secures his happiness through these interests\nand affections and through the fact that they, in turn, make him an\nobject of interest and affection to many others. To be the recipient\nof affection is a potent cause of happiness, but the man who demands\naffection is not the man upon whom it is bestowed. The man who receives\naffection is, speaking broadly, the man who gives it. But it is useless\nto attempt to give it as a calculation, in the way in which one\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_244\"\u003e[244]\u003c/span\u003e might\nlend money at interest, for a calculated affection is not genuine and\nis not felt to be so by the recipient.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWhat then can a man do who is unhappy because he is encased in self?\nSo long as he continues to think about the causes of his unhappiness,\nhe continues to be self-centred and therefore does not get outside\nthe vicious circle; if he is to get outside it, it must be by genuine\ninterests, not by simulated interests adopted merely as a medicine.\nAlthough this difficulty is real, there is nevertheless much that he\ncan do if he has rightly diagnosed his trouble. If, for example, his\ntrouble is due to a sense of sin, conscious or unconscious, he can\nfirst persuade his conscious mind that he has no reason to feel sinful,\nand then proceed, by the kind of technique that we have considered in\nearlier chapters, to plant this rational conviction in his unconscious\nmind, concerning himself meanwhile with some more or less neutral\nactivity. If he succeeds in dispelling the sense of sin, it is\nprobable that genuinely objective interests will arise spontaneously.\nIf his trouble is self-pity, he can deal with it in the same manner\nafter first persuading himself that there is nothing extraordinarily\nunfortunate in his circumstances. If fear is his trouble, let him\npractise exercises designed to give courage. Courage in war has\nbeen recognized from time immemorial as an important virtue, and a\ngreat part of the training of boys and young men has been devoted to\nproducing a type\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_245\"\u003e[245]\u003c/span\u003e of character capable of fearlessness in battle. But\nmoral courage and intellectual courage have been much less studied;\nthey also, however, have their technique. Admit to yourself every\nday at least one painful truth; you will find this quite as useful\nas the Boy Scout’s daily kind action. Teach yourself to feel that\nlife would still be worth living even if you were not, as of course\nyou are, immeasurably superior to all your friends in virtue and in\nintelligence. Exercises of this sort prolonged through several years\nwill at last enable you to admit facts without flinching, and will, in\nso doing, free you from the empire of fear over a very large field.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eWhat the objective interests are to be that will arise in you when\nyou have overcome the disease of self-absorption must be left to the\nspontaneous workings of your nature and of external circumstances. Do\nnot say to yourself in advance, “I should be happy if I could become\nabsorbed in stamp-collecting”, and thereupon set to work to collect\nstamps, for it may well happen that you will fail altogether to find\nstamp-collecting interesting. Only what genuinely interests you can be\nof any use to you, but you may be pretty sure that genuine objective\ninterests will grow up as soon as you have learnt not to be immersed in\nself.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThe happy life is to an extraordinary extent the same as the good life.\nProfessional moralists have made too much of self-denial, and in so\ndoing have put the emphasis in the wrong place.\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_246\"\u003e[246]\u003c/span\u003e Conscious self-denial\nleaves a man self-absorbed and vividly aware of what he has sacrificed;\nin consequence it fails often of its immediate object and almost always\nof its ultimate purpose. What is needed is not self-denial, but that\nkind of direction of interest outward which will lead spontaneously and\nnaturally to the same acts that a person absorbed in the pursuit of\nhis own virtue could only perform by means of conscious self-denial.\nI have written in this book as a hedonist, that is to say, as one who\nregards happiness as the good, but the acts to be recommended from the\npoint of view of the hedonist are on the whole the same as those to be\nrecommended by the sane moralist. The moralist, however, is too apt,\nthough this is not, of course, universally true, to stress the act\nrather than the state of mind. The effects of an act upon the agent\nwill be widely different, according to his state of mind at the moment.\nIf you see a child drowning and save it as the result of a direct\nimpulse to bring help, you will emerge none the worse morally. If,\non the other hand, you say to yourself, “It is the part of virtue to\nsuccour the helpless, and I wish to be a virtuous man, therefore I must\nsave this child”, you will be an even worse man afterwards than you\nwere before. What applies in this extreme case applies in many other\ninstances that are less obvious.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThere is another difference, somewhat more subtle, between the\nattitude towards life that I have\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_247\"\u003e[247]\u003c/span\u003e been recommending and that which is\nrecommended by the traditional moralists. The traditional moralist, for\nexample, will say that love should be unselfish. In a certain sense\nhe is right, that is to say, it should not be selfish beyond a point,\nbut it should undoubtedly be of such a nature that one’s own happiness\nis bound up in its success. If a man were to invite a lady to marry\nhim on the ground that he ardently desired her happiness and at the\nsame time considered that she would afford him ideal opportunities\nof self-abnegation, I think it may be doubted whether she would be\naltogether pleased. Undoubtedly we should desire the happiness of those\nwhom we love, but not as an alternative to our own. In fact the whole\nantithesis between self and the rest of the world, which is implied in\nthe doctrine of self-denial, disappears as soon as we have any genuine\ninterest in persons or things outside ourselves. Through such interests\na man comes to feel himself part of the stream of life, not a hard\nseparate entity like a billiard-ball, which can have no relation with\nother such entities except that of collision. All unhappiness depends\nupon some kind of disintegration or lack of integration; there is\ndisintegration within the self through lack of co-ordination between\nthe conscious and the unconscious mind; there is lack of integration\nbetween the self and society, where the two are not knit together by\nthe force of objective interests and affections. The happy man is the\nman who does\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_248\"\u003e[248]\u003c/span\u003e not suffer from either of these failures of unity, whose\npersonality is neither divided against itself nor pitted against the\nworld. Such a man feels himself a citizen of the universe, enjoying\nfreely the spectacle that it offers and the joys that it affords,\nuntroubled by the thought of death because he feels himself not really\nseparate from those who will come after him. It is in such profound\ninstinctive union with the stream of life that the greatest joy is to\nbe found.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr class=\"chap x-ebookmaker-drop\"\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\" id=\"Page_249\"\u003e[249]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003ch2 class=\"big\"\u003eINDEX\u003c/h2\u003e\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eacquiescence, the attitude of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_128\"\u003e128\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eadmiration,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_86\"\u003e86\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_106\"\u003e106\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eadolescence often a time of great unhappiness,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_129\"\u003e129\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eaffection,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_175\"\u003e175\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_177\"\u003e177–85\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_243\"\u003e243\u003c/a\u003e,\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ealcohol,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_16\"\u003e16\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_71\"\u003e71\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_100\"\u003e100\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ealtruism,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_118\"\u003e118–20\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_123\"\u003e123\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eAmerica,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_49\"\u003e49\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_51\"\u003e51\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_130\"\u003e130\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eAngelo, Michael,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_216\"\u003e216\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eanimals and boredom,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_57\"\u003e57\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_94\"\u003e94\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eanxieties,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_77\"\u003e77\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eapplause, desire for,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_122\"\u003e122\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003earistocracy, one of the advantages of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_137\"\u003e137\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eascetic element in morality,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_100\"\u003e100\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eautobiography, the author’s\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_18\"\u003e18–19\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eBacon, Roger,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_35\"\u003e35–6\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ebelief in a cause,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_152\"\u003e152–3\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ebirth-rate, decline of the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_193\"\u003e193–4\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eBlake, William,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_128\"\u003e128\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eboredom,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_18\"\u003e18\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_57\"\u003e57–68\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_209\"\u003e209\u003c/a\u003e,\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eBrontë, Emily and Charlotte,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_128\"\u003e128\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eBrowning, Robert,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_37\"\u003e37–8\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ebusiness man, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_46\"\u003e46–50\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eByron,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_28\"\u003e28\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eCaution in love,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_185\"\u003e185\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003echild and envy, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_83\"\u003e83\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_87\"\u003e87\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003echild and inventiveness, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_64\"\u003e64\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eChina and Japan,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_148\"\u003e148–9\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ecities,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_190\"\u003e190\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ecompetition,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_91\"\u003e91\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ecompetitive success and happiness,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_50\"\u003e50\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_52\"\u003e52\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_55\"\u003e55\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003econgenial companionship,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_132\"\u003e132\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_138\"\u003e138\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_152\"\u003e152\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003econscience,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_96\"\u003e96–7\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003econscious upon the unconscious, operation of the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_76\"\u003e76\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_102\"\u003e102\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_220\"\u003e220–1\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003econstructiveness,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_212\"\u003e212–14\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_217\"\u003e217\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003econventional people,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_131\"\u003e131\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ecourage,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_79\"\u003e79\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_244\"\u003e244–5\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ecraftsman’s joy, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_150\"\u003e150–1\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ecreeds,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_241\"\u003e241\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ecure for envy,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_86\"\u003e86–9\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eDemocracy,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_84\"\u003e84\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_91\"\u003e91\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_191\"\u003e191\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ediversity of morals and beliefs,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_126\"\u003e126\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003edrink,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_16\"\u003e16\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_25\"\u003e25\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_169\"\u003e169\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_228\"\u003e228\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003edrugs,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_61\"\u003e61–2\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_228\"\u003e228\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eEarth, contact with,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_66\"\u003e66–8\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_81\"\u003e81\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003e\u003ci\u003eEcclesiastes\u003c/i\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_28\"\u003e28–31\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_33\"\u003e33\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eeffort,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_230\"\u003e230–4\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eego, unimportance of one’s,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_74\"\u003e74\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_123\"\u003e123\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_222\"\u003e222\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eemotional fatigue,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_74\"\u003e74–5\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eenjoyment,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_16\"\u003e16\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_51\"\u003e51\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eenvironment,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_133\"\u003e133\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eenvy,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_80\"\u003e80–95\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eenvy, fatigue as a cause of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_92\"\u003e92\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eexcitement,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_58\"\u003e58\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_60\"\u003e60\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_62\"\u003e62\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_65\"\u003e65\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_79\"\u003e79–81\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_110\"\u003e110\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eexternal interests,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_220\"\u003e220\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_222\"\u003e222\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eFamily, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_186\"\u003e186–207\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003efanaticism,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_222\"\u003e222–3\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003efatigue,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_69\"\u003e69–81\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_92\"\u003e92\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_220\"\u003e220\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003efear,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_77\"\u003e77–9\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_242\"\u003e242\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_244\"\u003e244\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003efear of public opinion,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_126\"\u003e126–39\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eflat, life in a,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_190\"\u003e190–1\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003efreedom of the Press,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_139\"\u003e139\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eGolden mean, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_230\"\u003e230\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003egormandizer, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_158\"\u003e158\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_165\"\u003e165–8\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003egrief,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_227\"\u003e227–8\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e \n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eHappiness an achievement,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_231\"\u003e231\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ehappiness and competitive success,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_50\"\u003e50\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ehappiness, sources of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_143\"\u003e143–4\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_148\"\u003e148–9\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_152\"\u003e152–7\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_166\"\u003e166\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_174\"\u003e174\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_197\"\u003e197\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_208\"\u003e208\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_210\"\u003e210\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_217\"\u003e217–18\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_226\"\u003e226\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_228\"\u003e228–9\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_231\"\u003e231\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_234\"\u003e234\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_240\"\u003e240–5\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ehappiness, the best touchstone for,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_110\"\u003e110\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ehappiness the only cure for envy,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_86\"\u003e86–7\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ehatred, the habit of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_213\"\u003e213–14\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ehatred stirred by propaganda,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_94\"\u003e94\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ehedonism,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_246\"\u003e246\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eherd, fear of the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_97\"\u003e97–8\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_126\"\u003e126\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_131\"\u003e131–3\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ehobbies,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_153\"\u003e153–4\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ehope must be impersonal,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_236\"\u003e236\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ehousewife, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_188\"\u003e188–9\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_210\"\u003e210\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eIbsen,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_41\"\u003e41–2\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eidealistic theories,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_84\"\u003e84\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_92\"\u003e92\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_119\"\u003e119\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eill-treatment, hallucinations of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_111\"\u003e111–13\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eimpersonal interests,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_219\"\u003e219\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_227\"\u003e227\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eindividual, problem of the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_17\"\u003e17\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003einfantile moral teaching,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_99\"\u003e99\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_101\"\u003e101\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_104\"\u003e104–5\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003einfantile suggestions,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_103\"\u003e103\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003einsanity,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_111\"\u003e111\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_124\"\u003e124\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003einstinctive happiness, rareness of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_93\"\u003e93\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eintelligentsia, young,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_148\"\u003e148\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003einterest in oneself,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_19\"\u003e19\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003einterest in persons,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_154\"\u003e154–5\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003einterest in things,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_156\"\u003e156\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eintrovert, malady of the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_160\"\u003e160\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_180\"\u003e180\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eJustice and envy,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_92\"\u003e92\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e \n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eKrutch, J. W.,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_28\"\u003e28\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_32\"\u003e32–8\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_41\"\u003e41–4\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_241\"\u003e241\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e \n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eLeisure, employment of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_52\"\u003e52–3\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_55\"\u003e55–6\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eLenin,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_215\"\u003e215\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003e\u003ci\u003eLiaisons Dangereuses\u003c/i\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_22\"\u003e22\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003elove,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_36\"\u003e36–41\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_67\"\u003e67\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_247\"\u003e247\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003elunacy,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_23\"\u003e23–4\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_111\"\u003e111\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eMalicious gossip,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_113\"\u003e113–14\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003emarriage,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_80\"\u003e80–1\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_232\"\u003e232\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003e\u003ci\u003eMassenmench\u003c/i\u003e, Ernst Toller’s,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_43\"\u003e43\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003emasters and slaves,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_191\"\u003e191\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ematernal element in love, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_21\"\u003e21\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003emaxims to prevent persecution mania,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_118\"\u003e118–25\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003emegalomania,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_23\"\u003e23–5\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003emental discipline,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_72\"\u003e72\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_75\"\u003e75\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_89\"\u003e89\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eminor interests,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_219\"\u003e219\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_229\"\u003e229\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003emoderation,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_165\"\u003e165\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_167\"\u003e167\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003e\u003ci\u003eModern Temper, The\u003c/i\u003e, Krutch’s,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_28\"\u003e28\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_32\"\u003e32–34\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003emodesty,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_89\"\u003e89–90\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003emonk, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_19\"\u003e19–20\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003emonotony,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_64\"\u003e64–5\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003emoralist, the traditional,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_246\"\u003e246–7\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003emotherhood,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_204\"\u003e204–7\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eNapoleon,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_24\"\u003e24\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eNarcissism,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_20\"\u003e20–3\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_25\"\u003e25\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003enervous breakdown,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_75\"\u003e75\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003enervous fatigue,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_69\"\u003e69–70\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_73\"\u003e73\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_81\"\u003e81\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_220\"\u003e220\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eObjective interests,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_243\"\u003e243\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_245\"\u003e245\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eoblivion,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_169\"\u003e169\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eŒdipus complex, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_101\"\u003e101\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_192\"\u003e192\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eopinions of others, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_136\"\u003e136\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eoverwork,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_74\"\u003e74\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eParental affection,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_198\"\u003e198–9\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eparental feeling,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_41\"\u003e41\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eparenthood,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_200\"\u003e200–4\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eparents and children,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_192\"\u003e192–3\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003epassions and reason, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_108\"\u003e108–10\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_166\"\u003e166–7\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003epeacocks,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_90\"\u003e90–1\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003epersecution mania,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_111\"\u003e111–25\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003epessimism,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_32\"\u003e32–4\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ephilosophy of competition,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_54\"\u003e54–5\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ephysical fatigue,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_69\"\u003e69\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003epleasure of work, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_149\"\u003e149–52\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_211\"\u003e211–12\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_216\"\u003e216\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003epleasure, pursuit of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_16\"\u003e16\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_25\"\u003e25\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_80\"\u003e80–1\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003epleasures of achievement,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_145\"\u003e145\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003epleasures of great men, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_64\"\u003e64\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003epower, love of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_23\"\u003e23–4\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_119\"\u003e119\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_203\"\u003e203\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_233\"\u003e233–4\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003epreventatives of persecution mania,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_118\"\u003e118\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003epropaganda and hatred,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_93\"\u003e93–4\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eproportion, sense of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_116\"\u003e116\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_221\"\u003e221–3\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eProtestantism and sin,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_96\"\u003e96\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eProtestants and Catholics,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_126\"\u003e126–7\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003epsycho-analytic repression,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_24\"\u003e24\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003epublic opinion, tyranny of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_130\"\u003e130\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_136\"\u003e136\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_138\"\u003e138–9\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ePuritanism,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_54\"\u003e54–5\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eRationality,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_108\"\u003e108–9\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ereading,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_52\"\u003e52–3\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_63\"\u003e63\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ereason, hatred of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_109\"\u003e109–10\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ereligion,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_225\"\u003e225\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_241\"\u003e241\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eReligious Orders,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_35\"\u003e35\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ereligious psychology of sin,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_96\"\u003e96\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eresignation,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_230\"\u003e230–40\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003e\u003ci\u003eRetreat from Parenthood\u003c/i\u003e, Jean Aylin’s,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_189\"\u003e189\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eRoland, Madame,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_84\"\u003e84\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eRussian, the young,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_148\"\u003e148\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eSages of antiquity, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_36\"\u003e36\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003escientists, happiness of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_145\"\u003e145–7\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esecret of happiness,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_157\"\u003e157\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esecurity, sense of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_176\"\u003e176–7\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eself-absorption,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_20\"\u003e20\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_107\"\u003e107\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_243\"\u003e243\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_245\"\u003e245\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eself-centred passions,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_242\"\u003e242–3\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eself-confidence,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_177\"\u003e177\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eself-deception,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_124\"\u003e124–5\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eself-denial,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_245\"\u003e245–7\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eself-regarding motives,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_120\"\u003e120\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esense of sin,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_20\"\u003e20–1\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_35\"\u003e35\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_96\"\u003e96\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_98\"\u003e98\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_102\"\u003e102\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_106\"\u003e106\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_244\"\u003e244\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esex and sin,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_101\"\u003e101–2\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esex attraction,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_67\"\u003e67\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_184\"\u003e184\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esex education,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_102\"\u003e102\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esex majority,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_232\"\u003e232–3\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esexual source of envy,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_93\"\u003e93\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eShakespeare,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_41\"\u003e41–3\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_67\"\u003e67\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_215\"\u003e215\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esin, consciousness of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_20\"\u003e20–1\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_35\"\u003e35\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_96\"\u003e96\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_98\"\u003e98\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_102\"\u003e102\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_106\"\u003e106\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_109\"\u003e109\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_243\"\u003e243\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eskill,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_211\"\u003e211\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_224\"\u003e224\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esocial freedom,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_137\"\u003e137\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esocial inequalities,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_91\"\u003e91\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esocial justice,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_92\"\u003e92\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esocial persecution,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_139\"\u003e139\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esocial system, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_17\"\u003e17\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esocialism, equalitarian doctrines of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_91\"\u003e91\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eSolomon,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_31\"\u003e31–3\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_88\"\u003e88\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eSpinoza,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_226\"\u003e226\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003espinster, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_187\"\u003e187\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esterility and civilization,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_194\"\u003e194\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eStoics, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_40\"\u003e40\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003estruggle for life, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_45\"\u003e45–6\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003esuperstitions of childhood,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_105\"\u003e105\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eTest of genius,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_122\"\u003e122\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003etoleration,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_139\"\u003e139\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003etragedy,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_41\"\u003e41–4\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003etyranny of public opinion,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_130\"\u003e130\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eUnhappiness, Causes of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_17\"\u003e17–18\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_24\"\u003e24–5\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_27\"\u003e27\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_111\"\u003e111\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_127\"\u003e127\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_155\"\u003e155\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_185\"\u003e185\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_208\"\u003e208\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_220\"\u003e220\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_231\"\u003e231\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_235\"\u003e235\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_242\"\u003e242\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_244\"\u003e244\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_247\"\u003e247\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eunhappiness, kinds of,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_15\"\u003e15–16\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_27\"\u003e27\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eunloved, feeling of being,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_175\"\u003e175–6\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eunrecognized merit,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_121\"\u003e121\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eVanity,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_23\"\u003e23\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_119\"\u003e119\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eVictorians and love, the,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_36\"\u003e36–9\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n \n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eWomen and external interests,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_222\"\u003e222\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ewomen and zest,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_172\"\u003e172–4\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eWordsworth,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_65\"\u003e65\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003ework,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_208\"\u003e208–18\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_223\"\u003e223\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eworry,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_72\"\u003e72–3\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_75\"\u003e75–8\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_237\"\u003e237–8\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e\n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eYouth and the tyranny of ignorance,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_133\"\u003e133–5\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e \n\n\u003cul\u003e\n \u003cli class=\"i1\"\u003eZest,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_158\"\u003e158–9\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_161\"\u003e161\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_163\"\u003e163–5\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_169\"\u003e169–75\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_209\"\u003e209\u003c/a\u003e,\n \u003ca href=\"#Page_228\"\u003e228\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ul\u003e \n\n \u003cdiv class=\"figcenter\"\u003e\n \u003cimg\n class=\"p2\" \n src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/gutenberg-the-conquest-of-happiness-i-251.jpg\"\n alt=\"\"\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp class=\"center p1 xs\"\u003eGEORGE ALLEN \u0026amp; UNWIN LTD\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cspan class=\"smcap\"\u003eLondon: 40 Museum Street, W.C.1\u003cbr\u003e\nCape Town: 73 St. George’s Street\u003cbr\u003e\nSydney, N.S.W.: Wynyard Square\u003cbr\u003e\nAuckland, N.Z.: 41 Albert Street\u003cbr\u003e\nToronto, 77 Wellington Street, West\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnotes\"\u003e\u003ch2\u003eFOOTNOTES:\u003c/h2\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"Footnote_1\" href=\"#FNanchor_1\" class=\"label\"\u003e[1]\u003c/a\u003e Ecclesiastes was not, of course, really written by\nSolomon, but it is convenient to allude to the author by this name.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"Footnote_2\" href=\"#FNanchor_2\" class=\"label\"\u003e[2]\u003c/a\u003e Quoted from Coulton’s \u003ci\u003eFrom St. Francis to Dante\u003c/i\u003e, p.\n57.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"Footnote_3\" href=\"#FNanchor_3\" class=\"label\"\u003e[3]\u003c/a\u003e Mistranslated in English as \u003ci\u003eMasses and Men\u003c/i\u003e, whereas\nthe correct translation is \u003ci\u003eThe Mass-Man\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"Footnote_4\" href=\"#FNanchor_4\" class=\"label\"\u003e[4]\u003c/a\u003e This whole problem as it affects the professional classes\nis treated with remarkable insight and constructive ability in \u003ci\u003eThe\nRetreat from Parenthood\u003c/i\u003e, by Jean Aylin.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\n\u003cp class=\"transnote\"\u003eTranscriber’s Notes:\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cbr\u003e\n1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been\ncorrected silently.\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003cbr\u003e\n2. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have\nbeen retained as in the original.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/article\u003e"}],"SectionSequence":["Back Link","Work Title","Deck","Author","Period","Era","Composition","Date Note","Region","Terra Avita","Terra Avita Region","Modern Country","Original Title","Language","Primary Discipline","Secondary Discipline","Tradition","Full Versions","Core Thesis","Classification","Arguments","Influence","Significance","Evidence Note","Full Text"],"Counts":{"ContextCards":3,"GeoCards":4,"DisciplineCards":2,"Links":11,"Sections":25,"Styles":3,"Scripts":1}}