And again if we require so much of ourselves, shall we not require much of others?  If we do not genially judge our own deficiencies, is it not to be feared we shall be even stern to the trespasses of others?  And he who (looking back upon his own life) can see no more than that he has been unconscionably long a-dying, will he not be tempted to think his neighbour unconscionably long of getting hanged?  It is probable that nearly all who think of conduct at all, think of it too much; it is certain we all think too much of sin.  We are not damned for doing wrong, but for not doing right; Christ would never hear of negative morality; thou shalt was ever his word, with which he superseded thou shalt not.  To make our idea of morality centre on forbidden acts is to defile the imagination and to introduce into our judgments of our fellow-men a secret element of gusto.  If a thing is wrong for us, we should not dwell upon the thought of it; or we shall soon dwell upon it with inverted pleasure.  If we cannot drive it from our minds—­one thing of two:  either our creed is in the wrong and we must more indulgently remodel it; or else, if our morality be in the right, we are criminal lunatics and should place our persons in restraint.  A mark of such unwholesomely divided minds is the passion for interference with others:  the Fox without the Tail was of this breed, but had (if his biographer is to be trusted) a certain antique civility now out of date.  A man may have a flaw, a weakness, that unfits him for the duties of life, that spoils his temper, that threatens his integrity, or that betrays him into cruelty.  It has to be conquered; but it must never be suffered to engross his thoughts.  The true duties lie all upon the farther side, and must be attended to with a whole mind so soon as this preliminary clearing of the decks has been effected.  In order that he may be kind and honest, it may be needful he should become a total abstainer; let him become so then, and the next day let him forget the circumstance.  Trying to be kind and honest will require all his thoughts; a mortified appetite is never a wise companion; in so far as he has had to mortify an appetite, he will still be the worse man; and of such an one a great deal of cheerfulness will be required in judging life, and a great deal of humility in judging others.

It may be argued again that dissatisfaction with our life’s endeavour springs in some degree from dulness.  We require higher tasks, because we do not recognise the height of those we have.  Trying to be kind and honest seems an affair too simple and too inconsequential for gentlemen of our heroic mould; we had rather set ourselves to something bold, arduous, and conclusive; we had rather found a schism or suppress a heresy, cut off a hand or mortify an appetite.  But the task before us, which is to co-endure with our existence, is rather one of microscopic fineness, and the heroism required is that of patience.  There is no cutting of the Gordian knots of life; each must be smilingly unravelled.