as becomes a rational creature.' ... I can say this. I can ram this
argument by force of will into my brain, and by dint of repeating it
often enough I shall assuredly arrive at the supreme virtues of reason.
I should assuredly conquer--the brain being such a machine of
habit--even if I did not take the trouble to consider in the slightest
degree what manner of things my fellow-men are--by acting merely in my
own interests. But the way of perfection (I speak relatively) will be
immensely shortened and smoothed if I do consider, dispassionately, the
case of the other human machines. Thus:--

The truth is that my attitude towards my fellows is fundamentally and
totally wrong, and that it entails on my thinking machine a strain
which is quite unnecessary, though I may have arranged the machine so as
to withstand the strain successfully. The secret of smooth living is a
calm cheerfulness which will leave me always in full possession of my
reasoning faculty--in order that I may live by reason instead of by
instinct and momentary passion. The secret of calm cheerfulness is
kindliness; no person can be consistently cheerful and calm who does not
consistently think kind thoughts. But how can I be kindly when I pass
the major portion of my time in blaming the people who surround me--who
are part of my environment? If I, blaming, achieve some approach to
kindliness, it is only by a great and exhausting effort of self-mastery.
The inmost secret, then, lies in not blaming, in not judging and
emitting verdicts. Oh! I do not blame by word of mouth! I am far too
advanced for such a puerility. I keep the blame in my own breast, where
it festers. I am always privately forgiving, which is bad for me.
Because, you know, there is nothing to forgive. I do not have to forgive
bad weather; nor, if I found myself in an earthquake, should I have to
forgive the earthquake.