something higher. My wife states that the Joneses have gone into a new
flat, of which the rent is £165 a year. Now, Jones has told me
personally that the rent of his new flat is £156 a year. I correct my
wife. Knowing that she is in the right, she corrects me. She cannot bear
that a falsehood should prevail. It is not a question of £9, it is a
question of truth. Her enthusiasm for truth excites my enthusiasm for
truth. Five minutes ago I didn't care twopence whether the rent of the
Joneses' new flat was £165 or £156 or £1056 a year. But now I care
intensely that it is £156. I have formed myself into a select society
for the propagating of the truth about the rent of the Joneses' new
flat, and my wife has done the same. In eloquence, in argumentative
skill, in strict supervision of our tempers, we each of us squander
enormous quantities of that h.-p. which is so precious to us. And the
net effect is naught.

Now, if one of us two had understood the elementary principles of human
engineering, that one would have said (privately): 'Truth is
indestructible. Truth will out. Truth is never in a hurry. If it doesn't
come out to-day it will come out to-morrow or next year. It can take
care of itself. Ultimately my wife (or my husband) will learn the
essential cosmic truth about the rent of the Joneses' new flat. I
already know it, and the moment when she (or he) knows it also will be
the moment of my triumph. She (or he) will not celebrate my triumph
openly, but it will be none the less real. And my reputation for
accuracy and calm restraint will be consolidated. If, by a rare
mischance, I am in error, it will be vastly better for me in the day of
my undoing that I have not been too positive now. Besides, nobody has
appointed me sole custodian of the great truth concerning the rent of
the Joneses' new flat. I was not brought into the world to be a
safe-deposit, and more urgent matters summon me to effort.' If one of us