How to Live on Twenty-Four Hours a Day
阿诺德.本涅特 Arnold Bennett
XII DANGERS TO AVOID
I cannot terminate these hints, often, I fear, too didactic and abrupt, uponthe full use of one's time to the great end of living (as distinguished fromvegetating) without briefly referring to certain dangers which lie in waitfor the sincere aspirant towards life. The first is the terrible danger ofbecoming that most odious and least supportable of persons--a prig.Now a prig is a pert fellow who gives himself airs of superior wisdom.A prig is a pompous fool who has gone out for a ceremonial walk, andwithout knowing it has lost an important part of his attire, namely, hissense of humour. A prig is a tedious individual who, having made adiscovery, is so impressed by his discovery that he is capable of beinggravely displeased because the entire world is not also impressed by it.Unconsciously to become a prig is an easy and a fatal thing.
Hence, when one sets forth on the enterprise of using all one's time, it isjust as well to remember that one's own time, and not other people's time,is the material with which one has to deal; that the earth rolled on prettycomfortably before one began to balance a budget of the hours, and that itwill continue to roll on pretty comfortably whether or not one succeeds inone's new role of chancellor of the exchequer of time. It is as well not tochatter too much about what one is doing, and not to betray a too-painedsadness at the spectacle of a whole world deliberately wasting so manyhours out of every day, and therefore never really living. It will be found,ultimately, that in taking care of one's self one has quite all one can do.
Another danger is the danger of being tied to a programme like a slave toa chariot. One's programme must not be allowed to run away with one.It must be respected, but it must not be worshipped as a fetish. A programmeof daily employ is not a religion.
On the other hand, a programme is a programme. And unless it is treatedwith deference it ceases to be anything but a poor joke. To treat one'sprogramme with exactly the right amount of deference, to live with nottoo much and not too little elasticity, is scarcely the simple affair it mayappear to the inexperienced.
And still another danger is the danger of developing a policy of rush, ofbeing gradually more and more obsessed by what one has to do next. Inthis way one may come to exist as in a prison, and ones life may cease tobe one's own. One may take the dog out for a walk at eight o'clock, andmeditate the whole time on the fact that one must begin to read at a quarterto nine, and that one must not be late.
And the occasional deliberate breaking of one's programme will not helpto mend matters. The evil springs not from persisting without elasticityin what one has attempted, but from originally attempting too much, fromfilling one's programme till it runs over. The only cure is to reconstitutethe programme, and to attempt less.
But the appetite for knowledge grows by what it feeds on, and there aremen who come to like a constant breathless hurry of endeavour. Of themit may be said that a constant breathless hurry is better than an eternal doze.
one's programme will not helpto mend matters. The evil springs not from persisting without.
In any case, if the programme exhibits a tendency to be oppressive, andyet one wishes not to modify it, an excellent palliative is to pass withexaggerated deliberation from one portion of it to another; for example,to spend five minutes in perfect mental quiescence between chaining upthe St. Bernard and opening the book; in other words, to waste fiveminutes with the entire consciousness of wasting them.
The last, and chiefest danger which I would indicate, is one to which Ihave already referred--the risk of a failure at the commencement of theenterprise.
I must insist on it.
A failure at the commencement may easily kill outright the newbornimpulse towards a complete vitality, and therefore every precautionshould be observed to avoid it. The impulse must not be over-taxed.Let the pace of the first lap be even absurdly slow, but let it be asregular as possible.
And, having once decided to achieve a certain task, achieve it at all costsof tedium and distaste. The gain in self-confidence of having accomplisheda tiresome labour is immense.
Finally, in choosing the first occupations of those evening hours, be guidedby nothing whatever but your taste and natural inclination.
It is a fine thing to be a walking encyclopaedia of philosophy, but if youhappen to have no liking for philosophy, and to have a like for the naturalhistory of street-cries, much better leave philosophy alone, and take tostreet-cries.