You and I cannot reach even a fraction of the way towards that perfect
standard; but it is our pattern, our plummet, our measuring-line.

Very practically, then, we must ask ourselves such questions as these:

What proportion of my time is spent for others?

Have I any method of employing time or any stated hours that I give to
philanthropic or religious work; or do I just, in a casual way, let
other people have odd moments, when I happen to think of it?

Similar questions should be asked as to money. Many people, especially
those who do not keep accounts (which everyone ought to do), would be
shocked if at the end of a year they could see the enormous
disproportion between the vast amount they have frittered away on self,
and the pitiful little doles they have handed out in the cause of
charity.

One man, who kept three cars for private use, reduced an already paltry
allowance made to a dependent because the price of petrol had gone up!

It is not that people cannot give; it is often only that they do not
think. Look at the vast sums being poured into the Relief Funds. Why has
not some proportion of it gone long ago to Hospitals obliged to close
their wards, Waifs and Strays Societies compelled to refuse poor little
outcasts? The money was there; it could have been spared then as well as
now, but it needed some great shock to wake its owners up to the sense
of proportion, the realisation of responsibilities.

And so in regard to such gifts as music, painting, acting, mechanics,