The opportunity of rendering great favors to men is not very frequent. On the other hand, one can quietly do any one some small pleasure, though it be nothing more than a friendly greeting to light up, like a sunbeam, some lonely and joyless existence. We should not begin a day of our life without proposing to ourselves to make use of every opportunity in this way. This friendliness is merely a matter of habit that even men essentially kind-hearted now and then do not have, to their great loss.

Quite ordinary natures, of course, understand only fear, not love. As soon as they no longer fear, they become forward and intractable. For these the proverb holds good: “Be always kind, yet not too kindly; else the wolves will quickly grow bold.” For others, however, the proverb is not true. On the other hand, real kindness is the ripest fruit of a well-lived life.

Many men, by doing things in a large style, wish to compel their fellow-men to recognize it. But they seldom succeed, since the other man marks this purpose; and after all, egotism (though of a somewhat different kind than usual) hides behind. They would attain their goal far better if they paid less heed to outward show and did things more quietly.

Many people who are really good-hearted at bottom have a way of always finding something to blame or demur to even in matters that fall in with their wishes. Thus they bring it about that other persons, hearing only their “No, no,” prefer the company of more easy-going, if also more unprincipled, people of the world. Nor should one always be contradicting men, even where they are in the wrong; silence often accomplishes more and does not embitter. Now and then their assertions are not wholly in earnest, but if they experience opposition, then they become fortified in their notions and say something that they can no longer retract. But if one ought to contradict for the truth’s sake, then a single contradiction is enough; when opinions are once acknowledged and firmly fixed, continued disputation about them is entirely fruitless.

“Whoever wishes to have his opinion find approval should express it coldly and without passion,” says Schopenhauer, if I am not mistaken. The word “coldly” is somewhat too strong; but to parler sans accent, that is, to speak in the positive and not always in the superlative degree, is a good custom.

Of one’s neighbor one should—so St. Maddalena dei Pazzi tells us—“speak as little as possible, for one begins with good things, but usually ends up with bad things. Our neighbor is a glass that easily breaks if we take it into our hands too often.”

It is a great art in human intercourse to be able to show friendly opposition on occasion. We should, among other things, give our reasons—not merely for convenience simply say No, but try to convince the other with good arguments rather than be dictatorial. All men see, in such an appeal to their understanding, a proof of respect which gratifies them and often quite reconciles them to the negative outcome.

A suspension of judgment is often very useful. With a “We will consider it,” or “Let us think it over,” good-will is shown for the time being, while the decision is put off; and with that, often enough, the whole matter is discharged. The other man will in the mean time change his mind; or the matter will seem to him of less importance; while, at the moment, his desire was his very kingdom of heaven.

But all this does not apply in things indubitably wrong. Then we must not give rise to the conception that we might finally be able to come to an agreement in the matter or regard it as at least feasible; but on the contrary, we must “resist the beginnings.”

The most unfortunate method of all is to yield in an unfriendly spirit; by so doing we lose the game twice over. But with weak men this is the usual course; they wish to hide their weakness by a little blustering and scolding.