III. GOOD HABITS

III. GOOD HABITS

THE most important experience which, sooner or later, meets every thoughtful person, both in his own intellectual development and in his observation of others, is this,—that every act, and, indeed, every definite thought, leaves behind it an inclination which is like a material influence, and which makes the next similar thought, or act, easier, and the next dissimilar thought, or act, more difficult. This is the curse of evil conduct,—that it ever brings forth more evil conduct; and this too is the sure and chief reward of good conduct,—that it strengthens the tendency to good and makes permanent what has been gained. Here is the solemn and tragic fact which lies behind all human life,—that what we have once done we can never change. There it remains, just as it happened, little as we may be inclined to believe, or to admit, that it is there. And hence it is that history truly written is no entertaining drama, ending in general reconciliation and embrace, but a tragedy which describes the movement of destiny.

If, then, one begins thus to take life seriously, he will soon observe that its main problem does not concern its thought or its faith, still less any outward confession which may leave the soul within quite undisturbed. The real problem of life is simply and solely one of habit, and the end of all education should be to train people to inclinations toward good. To choose discreetly between good and evil is not always practicable, for human passions are sometimes too strong; but what may be developed is a prompt and spontaneous instinct for the good; and the ideal of human life is one in which all that is good has become sheer habit, and all that is bad is so contrary to nature, that it gives one even a physically perceptible and painful shock. Failing this, all that one calls virtue or piety is but a series of those good intentions with which the path to evil, as to good, may be paved.

What, then, are the most important of good habits? I propose to name a few, not in any systematic fashion; for of systems of morals the modern world seems to have had more than enough, and it is much more likely to give some attention to purely practical suggestions based on practical experience.

The first and chief rule seems to be this,—that one should try rather to cultivate good habits than merely negatively to escape from bad ones. It is much easier in the inner life, as in the outer, to attack positively than to repel defensively; for in aggressive conduct every success brings joy, while in mere resistance much of one’s effort seems to have no positive result. The main point to be gained is the habit of prompt resolution, directed immediately toward action. What Voltaire said of the history of nations is in large degree true of human life: “I have noticed that destiny in every case depends upon the act of a moment.”

The second principle of good habits is fearlessness. Perhaps this is not possible to acquire in a high degree without a strong religious faith. This I will not discuss. It is, at any rate, certain that fear is not only the least agreeable of human emotions, so that one should at any cost conquer it, but that it is also the most superfluous. For fear does not prevent the approach of that which is feared; it only exhausts beforehand the strength which one needs to meet the thing he fears. Most of the things which we fear to meet are not in reality so terrible as they appear to be when looked at from afar. When they meet us, they can be borne. The imagination is inclined to picture evils as more permanent and persistent than they are really to be. If, as one’s trouble approached, he should say to himself: “This is likely to last about three days,” one would in many cases be justified by the event, and, at any rate, would proceed to meet the trouble with a better courage. On the whole, the best defence against fear which philosophy can provide is the conviction that every fear is a symptom of some wrong condition in ourselves. If one search for that weakness and rid himself of it, then, for the most part, fear will vanish also.

Beyond this philosophical defence from fear, however, lie certain spiritual conditions of courage. The chief of these is determining for oneself what are the best blessings of life. First of all, one must acquire as soon as possible the habit of preferring the better things to the worse. He must especially abandon the expectation of possessing at the same time different things which are contradictory of each other. Here is the secret of failure in many a career. In my opinion, a man may not only freely choose his aims in life, but he may attain all those aims which he seriously and wholly desires, provided that for the sake of this desire he is ready to surrender all other desires which are inconsistent with it. The best possessions one can have in life, and the things which, with reasonable sagacity, are the easiest to get, are these: firm moral principles, intellectual discipline, love, loyalty, the capacity for work and the enjoyment of it, spiritual and physical health, and very moderate worldly possessions. No other blessings can be compared with these, and some other possessions are inconsistent with these—for instance, great wealth, great worldly honor and power, habitual self-indulgence. These are the things which people commonly most desire, and which they very often attain, but they must always be attained through the surrender of the better things.

One must, therefore, promptly and unhesitatingly determine to surrender the desire for wealth, honor, and luxury, and to take in their place other possessions. Without this determination, there can be no religious or philosophical basis of spiritual education. What seems to be spiritual development ends in unreality, vacillation, at last hypocrisy. It must be confessed that even the best of men are, as a rule, but half-hearted in making this fundamental resolution. They give up under compulsion one or another fragment of their desires. Few are sagacious enough to foresee the choice which sooner or later must be made, and free themselves while they are still young from their prolonged perplexity by one quick and sublime decision.