of the truth about the rent of the Joneses' new
flat, and my wife has done the same. In eloquence, in argumentative
skill, in strict supervision of our tempers, we each of us squander
enormous quantities of that h.-p. which is so precious to us. And the
net effect is naught.

Now, if one of us two had understood the elementary principles of human
engineering, that one would have said (privately): 'Truth is
indestructible. Truth will out. Truth is never in a hurry. If it doesn't
come out to-day it will come out to-morrow or next year. It can take
care of itself. Ultimately my wife (or my husband) will learn the
essential cosmic truth about the rent of the Joneses' new flat. I
already know it, and the moment when she (or he) knows it also will be
the moment of my triumph. She (or he) will not celebrate my triumph
openly, but it will be none the less real. And my reputation for
accuracy and calm restraint will be consolidated. If, by a rare
mischance, I am in error, it will be vastly better for me in the day of
my undoing that I have not been too positive now. Besides, nobody has
appointed me sole custodian of the great truth concerning the rent of
the Joneses' new flat. I was not brought into the world to be a
safe-deposit, and more urgent matters summon me to effort.' If one of us
had meditated thus, much needless friction would have been avoided and
power saved; _amour-propre_ would not have been exposed to risks; the
sacred cause of truth would not in the least have suffered; and the rent
of the Joneses' new flat would anyhow have remained exactly what it is.

In addition to straining the machine by our excessive anxiety for the
spread of truth, we give a very great deal too much attention to the
state of other people's machines. I cannot too strongly, too
sarcastically, deprecate this astonishing habit. It will be found to be
rife in nearly every household and in nearly every office. We are most
of us endeavouring to rearrange the mechanism in other heads than our
own. This is always dangerous and generally futile. Considering the
difficulty we have in our own brains, where our efforts are sure of
being accepted as well-meant, and where we have at any rate a rough
notion of the machine's construction, our intrepidity in adventuring
among the delicate adjustments of other brains is remarkable. We are
cursed by too much of the missionary spirit. We must needs voyage into
the China of our brother's brain, and explain t