There are a
certain number of things in the world to be done, and we have got to do
them. We may fail--it doesn't in the least matter. We may get killed
in the attempt--it matters still less. The things may not altogether be
worth doing--it is of very little importance. It is ourselves we have
got to judge by. If we are playing our part well, and know it, then we
can thank God and go on. That is what I call happiness."
"And I," said Lewis.
"And how are you to get happiness? Not by thinking about it. The great
things of the world have all been done by men who didn't stop to reflect
on them. If a man comes to a halt and analyses his motives and
distrusts the value of the thing he strives for, then the odds are that
his halt is final. You strive to strive and not to attain. A man must
have that direct practical virtue which forgets itself and sees only its
work. Parsons will tell you that all virtue is self-sacrifice, and they
are right, though not in the way they mean. It may all seem a tissue of
contradictions. You must not pitch on too fanciful a goal, nor, on the
other hand, must you think on yourself. And it is a contradiction which
only resolves itself in practice, one of those anomalies on which the
world is built up."
Lewis nodded his head.
"And the moral of it all is that there are two sorts of people who will
never do any good on this planet.
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