By “comfort” an Englishman understands perfect physical ease and something more. The state of perfect comfort is partly ideal. Tapestry on a wall is comfortable, yet we do not touch it, we do not wrap ourselves up in it. The mind is cognisant of its presence as a warm, soft tissue, and that is all. Carpets are a little nearer, physically, as we walk upon them; but nine-tenths of the comfort they give is also purely ideal, for it can matter very little to us that a whole floor should be clothed with a soft pile when we can get as much softness on bare boards by wearing slippers.
Little Conveniences.
An Englishman’s passion for comfort is also closely connected with his love of despatch, and his ingenuity in devising little conveniences that diminish friction. In this ingenuity he has no rival, but it sometimes defeats itself by making the conveniences themselves an embarrassment.
Example given by Jesus.
Socrates and Epictetus.
This is one of those matters which exhibit in a striking light the powerlessness of education, as the English of the comfortable classes have received their highest teaching from Greek philosophers and Christian apostles, two classes of teachers who, both by example and precept, inculcated the value of self-denial and simplicity of life. We do not know very much of the life of Jesus, but the little that we do know is entirely in favour of the belief that it was almost destitute of physical comfort, and that he lived amongst a class of poor people to whom comfort was unknown. On one occasion, as we all remember, he expressly discouraged anxiety about eating and dress; and as for lodging, there is no evidence either that he had a dwelling of his own or that he ever intentionally sought the hospitality of the rich. The lives of Socrates and Epictetus show an equal indifference to comfort; Socrates lived just as it happened, caring only for the life of thought; Epictetus, in a passage of splendid eloquence, rejoiced in his mental freedom, and demonstrated that it was compatible with the hardest and barest life.[63]
Practical Difficulty of plain Living.
Individuals not Responsible.
The English answer to Epictetus would be that he lived in another age, that he was unmarried, and therefore had not to satisfy the claims of others, and finally, that he did nothing notable except philosophising. If a modern Englishman tried to live like Epictetus he would inflict a kind of social paralysis upon himself, he would deny himself his due share in English life. That is the great practical difficulty in the way of hard living and high thinking. It is well for the philosopher, but he cannot require the same austerity of his family and his guests. No individual Englishman is responsible for the national standard of comfort. It has grown as custom grows, and is now so firmly fixed that Wisdom herself has to submit to it.
The old Prejudice against Self-indulgence.