relation to happiness in different grades of life
The cost of pleasures
Lives of the millionaires
Leaders of Society
The great speculator
Expenditure in charity.—Rules for regulating it
Advantages and disadvantages of a large very wealthy class in a nation
Directions in which philanthropic expenditure may be best turned

CHAPTER XIV

MARRIAGE

Its importance and the motives that lead to it
The moral and intellectual qualities it specially demands
Duty to the unborn.—Improvident marriages
The doctrine of heredity and its consequences
Religious celibacy
Marriages of dissimilar types often peculiarly happy
Marriages resulting from a common weakness
Independent spheres in marriage.—Effect on character
The age of marriage
Increased independence of women

CHAPTER XV

SUCCESS

Success depends more on character than on intellect
Especially that accessible to most men and most conducive to happiness
Strength of will, tact and judgment.—Not always joined
Their combination a great element of success
Good nature
Tact: its nature and its importance
Its intellectual and moral affinities
Value of good society in cultivating it.—Newman's description of a gentleman
Disparities between merit and success
Success not universally desired

CHAPTER XVI

TIME

Rebellion of human nature against the essential conditions of life
Time 'the stuff of life'
Various ways of treating it
Increased intensity of life
Sleep
Apparent inequalities of time
The tenure of life not too short
Old age
The growing love of rest.—How time should be regarded

CHAPTER XVII

THE END

Death terrible chiefly through its accessories
Pagan and Christian ideas about it
Premature death
How easily the fear of death is overcome
The true way of regarding it

THE MAP OF LIFE

CHAPTER I

One of the first questions that must naturally occur to every writer who deals with the subject of this book is, what influence mere discussion and reasoning can have in promoting the happiness of men. The circumstances of our lives and the dispositions of our characters mainly determine the measure of happiness we enjoy, and mere argument about the causes of happiness and unhappiness can do little to affect them. It is impossible to read the many books that have been written on these subjects without feeling how largely they consist of mere sounding generalities which the smallest experience shows to be perfectly impotent in the face of some real and acute sorrow, and it is equally impossible to obtain any serious knowledge of the world without perceiving that a large proportion of the happiest lives and characters are to be found where introspection, self-analysis and reasonings about the good and evil of life hold the smallest place. Happiness, indeed, like health, is one of the things of which men rarely think except when it is impaired, and much that has been written on the subject has been written under the stress of some great depression. Such writers are like the man in Hogarth's picture occupying himself in the debtors' prison with plans for the payment of the National Debt. There are moments when all of us feel the force of the words of Voltaire: 'Travaillons sans raisonner, c'est le seul moyen de rendre la vie supportable.'

That there is much truth in such considerations is incontestable, and it is only within a restricted sphere that the province of reasoning extends. Man comes into the world with mental and moral characteristics which he can only very imperfectly influence, and a large proportion of the external circumstances of his life lie wholly or mainly beyond his control. At the same time, every one recognises the power of skill, industry and perseverance to modify surrounding circumstances; the power of temperance and prudence to strengthen a naturally weak constitution, prolong life, and diminish the chances of disease; the power of education and private study to develop, sharpen and employ to the best advantage our intellectual faculties. Every one also recognises how large a part of the unhappiness of most men may be directly traced to their own voluntary and deliberate acts. The power each man possesses in the education and management of his character, and especially in the cultivation of the dispositions and tendencies which most largely contribute to happiness, is less recognised and is perhaps less extensive, but it is not less real.

The eternal question of free will and determinism here naturally meets us, but on such a subject it is idle to suppose that a modern writer can do more than define the question and state his own side. The Determinist says that the real question is not whether a man can do what he desires, but whether he can do what he does not desire; whether the will can act without a motive; whether that motive can in the last analysis be other than the strongest pleasure. The illusion of free will, he maintains, is only due to the conflict of our motives. Under many forms and disguises pleasure and pain have an absolute empire over conduct. The will is nothing more than the last and strongest desire; or it is like a piece of iron surrounded by magnets and necessarily drawn by the most powerful; or (as has been ingeniously imagined) like a weathercock, conscious of its own motion, but not conscious of the winds that are moving it. The law of compulsory causation applies to the world of mind as truly as to the world of matter. Heredity and Circumstance make us what we are. Our actions are the inevitable result of the mental and moral constitutions with which we came into the world, operated on by external influences.

The supporters of free will, on the other hand, maintain that it is a fact of consciousness that there is a clear distinction between the Will and the Desires, and that although they are closely connected no sound analysis will confuse them. Coleridge ingeniously compared their relations to 'the co-instantaneous yet reciprocal action of the air and the vital energy of the lungs in breathing.'[1] If the will is powerfully acted on by the desires, it has also in its turn a power of acting upon them, and it is not a mere slave to pleasure and pain. The supporters of this view maintain that it is a fact of the plainest consciousness that we can do things which we do not like; that we can suspend the force of imperious desires, resist the bias of our nature, pursue for the sake of duty the course which gives least pleasure without deriving or expecting from it any pleasure, and select at a given moment