Finally, all paths which it is best to follow, are entered by open doors.
There are, it must be added, some difficulties and problems which thoughtful people should take into account in their intercourse with others. One must not hate other people, or, on the other hand, idolize them, or take their opinions, demands, and judgments too seriously. One must not sit in judgment on others, or, on the other hand, submit himself to their judgment. One must not court the society of those who think much of themselves. Indeed, I may say in general that, except in certain callings, one should not cultivate acquaintance with great people, or fine people, with the rich, or the fashionable, but so far as possible, without repelling them, should avoid their company. Among the best sources of happiness is the enjoyment found in small things and among humble people; and many a bitter experience is avoided by the habit of an unassuming life. The best way to have permanent peace with the world is not to expect much of it; not to be afraid of it; so far as one can without self-deception see the good in it; and to regard the evil as something powerless and temporary which will soon defeat itself.
In short, I may in conclusion say, that one must not take this life too seriously. As soon as we live above it, much of it becomes unimportant, and if the essentials are secure we must not care too much for the subordinate. Many of the best people suffer from this magnifying of trifles, and especially from their dependence on other people’s opinions; and this lack of proportion makes for such people each day’s work much more difficult than it would otherwise be.
I have said that these practical rules might be indefinitely multiplied. But they are all, as I have also said, in reality superfluous. For if the soil of the heart is fertilized, as I have already described, then these fruits of life grow out of it spontaneously, and serve the special needs of the individual. The essential question concerns the soil itself, without which not one of these practical fruits can grow. Thus I may say in general that I take no great interest in what people call systems of morals, or in the rules of conduct which they prescribe. A system of morals either issues spontaneously from a habit of mind, which in its turn issues from a view of life, attained even through the death of one’s old self; or else such a system is nothing but a series of beautiful maxims, pleasant to hear, good to record in diaries and calendars, but incapable of converting the human heart.
I do not care to multiply the material for these collections of maxims. I shall only add one last and solemn truth. It is this,—that under the conditions of human life unhappiness also is necessary. Indeed, if one cared to state it in a paradox, he might say that unhappiness is essential to happiness. In the first place, as the experience of life plainly shows, unhappiness is inevitable, and one must in one way or another reconcile himself to it. The most to which one can attain in this human lot is perfect adjustment to one’s destiny; that inward and permanent peace which, as Isaiah says, is like an “overflowing stream.” It is this peace and this alone which Christ promises to his disciples, and it is this, and no outward satisfaction, which the Apostle Paul expects for his fellow-Christians, when, at the end of his unpeaceful life, he prays that “the peace of Christ may rule” in their hearts.
Thus, for real happiness the outward issue of events may come to have no high importance. Stoicism endeavored to solve the problem of happiness by developing insensibility to pain, but its endeavor was vain. The problem of happiness is to be solved in quite another way. One must accept his suffering and unhappiness, and adjust himself to them. And to this end one is, first of all, helped by considering what unhappiness implies, and by living consistently above the sway of momentary feeling. For unhappiness does us good in no less than three ways,—ways which are cumulative in their effect. It is, in the first place, a punishment, the natural consequence of our deeds. It is, thus considered, a part of those deeds themselves, and therefore must follow them as surely as a logical consequence follows its premise. Unhappiness is, secondly, a cleansing process, waking us to greater seriousness and greater receptivity to truth. Thirdly, unhappiness recalls us to self-examination and fortifies us by disclosing what is our own strength, and what is God’s strength. By no other experience does one attain that spiritual courage which is far removed from self-confidence and very near to humility. In a word, it must be said that the deeper life of man and that noble bearing which we remark in some people, and which no one, whatever be his station, can falsely assume, are attained only through faithful endurance of misfortune. That word of the Apostle Paul, “We glory in tribulations,” is, like many of his sayings, absolutely unintelligible to any one who has not experienced what renewal of power and what profound happiness may be discovered through misfortune itself. It is a form of happiness which one never forgets if he has once really experienced it.
This, then, is the riddle of life which perplexes many a man and turns him from the right way,—that good people do not get the good things which might seem to them their due.
“The prophet host, the martyr throng,
Reckoned, the world as dross,
Despised the shame, endured the wrong,