“Yes—I suppose so.”
“Very well. My father says that I love myself better than any one else. That is good evidence, for, as you say, he must be right. How do you know that you love your sister more than yourself?”
“I think I would sacrifice more for her than I would for myself.”
“Then you must be subject to a natural indolence which only affection for another can overcome.”
“I am not lazy,” objected Grace.
“Pardon me. What is a sacrifice, in the common meaning of the word? Giving up something one likes. To make a sacrifice for oneself means to give up something one likes for the sake of one’s own advantage—for instance, to give up sleeping too much, in order to work more. Not to do so, is to be lazy. Laziness is a vice. Therefore it is a vice not to sacrifice as much as possible to one’s own advantage. Virtue is the opposite of vice. Therefore selfishness is a virtue.”
“What dreadful sophistry!”
“You cannot escape the conclusion that one ought to love oneself at least quite as much as any one else, since to be unwilling to take as much trouble for one’s own advantage as one takes for that of other people is manifestly an acute form of indolence, and is therefore vicious and a cardinal sin.”
“Selfishness is certainly a deadly virtue,” retorted Grace.
“Can that be called deadly which provides a man with a living?” asked George.