<SPAN name="III" id="III"></SPAN>
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></SPAN></span><br/>
<h3>III</h3>
<h3>BREAKING WITH THE PAST</h3>
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<p>On that dark morning we woke up, and it instantly occurred to us—or
at any rate to those of us who have preserved some of our illusions
and our <i>naïveté</i>—that we had something to be cheerful about, some
cause for a gay and strenuous vivacity; and then we remembered that it
was New Year's Day, and there were those Resolutions to put into
force! Of course, we all smile in a superior manner at the very
mention of New Year's Resolutions; we pretend they are toys for
children, and that we have long since ceased to regard them seriously
as a possible aid to conduct. But we are such deceivers, such
miserable, moral cowards, in such terror of appearing naïve, that I
for one am not to be taken in by that smile and that pretence. The
individual who scoffs at New Year's Resolutions resembles the woman
who says she doesn't look under the bed at nights; the truth is not in
him, and in the very moment <span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></SPAN></span>of his lying, could his cranium suddenly
become transparent, we should see Resolutions burning brightly in his
brain like lamps in Trafalgar Square. Of this I am convinced, that
nineteen-twentieths of us got out of bed that morning animated by that
special feeling of gay and strenuous vivacity which Resolutions alone
can produce. And nineteen-twentieths of us were also conscious of a
high virtue, forgetting that it is not the making of Resolutions, but
the keeping of them, which renders pardonable the consciousness of
virtue.</p>
<p>And at this hour, while the activity of the Resolution is yet in full
blast, I would wish to insist on the truism, obvious perhaps, but apt
to be overlooked, that a man cannot go forward and stand still at the
same time. Just as moralists have often animadverted upon the tendency
to live in the future, so I would animadvert upon the tendency to live
in the past. Because all around me I see men carefully tying
themselves with an unbreakable rope to an immovable post at the bottom
of a hill and then struggling to climb the hill. If there is one
Resolution more important than another it is the Resolution to break
with the past. If life is not a continual <span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></SPAN></span>denial of the past, then it
is nothing. This may seem a hard and callous doctrine, but you know
there are aspects of common sense which decidedly are hard and
callous. And one finds constantly in plain common-sense persons (O
rare and select band!) a surprising quality of ruthlessness mingled
with softer traits. Have you not noticed it? The past is absolutely
intractable. One can't do anything with it. And an exaggerated
attention to it is like an exaggerated attention to sepulchres—a sign
of barbarism. Moreover, the past is usually the enemy of cheerfulness,
and cheerfulness is a most precious attainment.</p>
<p>Personally, I could even go so far as to exhibit hostility towards
grief, and a marked hostility towards remorse—two states of mind
which feed on the past instead of on the present. Remorse, which is
not the same thing as repentance, serves no purpose that I have ever
been able to discover. What one has done, one has done, and there's an
end of it. As a great prelate unforgettably said, "Things are what
they are, and the consequences of them will be what they will be. Why,
then, attempt to <span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></SPAN></span>deceive ourselves"—that remorse for wickedness is a
useful and praiseworthy exercise? Much better to forget. As a matter
of fact, people "indulge" in remorse; it is a somewhat vicious form of
spiritual pleasure. Grief, of course, is different, and it must be
handled with delicate consideration. Nevertheless, when I see, as one
does see, a man or a woman dedicating existence to sorrow for the loss
of a beloved creature, and the world tacitly applauding, my feeling is
certainly inimical. To my idea, that man or woman is not honouring,
but dishonouring, the memory of the departed; society suffers, the
individual suffers, and no earthly or heavenly good is achieved. Grief
is of the past; it mars the present; it is a form of indulgence, and
it ought to be bridled much more than it often is. The human heart is
so large that mere remembrance should not be allowed to tyrannize over
every part of it.</p>
<p>But cases of remorse and absorbing grief are comparatively rare. What
is not rare is that misguided loyalty to the past which dominates the
lives of so many of us. I do not speak of leading principles, which
are not likely to <span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></SPAN></span>incommode us by changing; I speak of secondary yet
still important things. We will not do so-and-so because we have never
done it—as if that was a reason! Or we have always done so-and-so,
therefore we must always do it—as if <i>that</i> was logic! This
disposition to an irrational Toryism is curiously discoverable in
advanced Radicals, and it will show itself in the veriest trifles. I
remember such a man whose wife objected to his form of hat (not that I
would call so crowning an affair as a hat a trifle!). "My dear," he
protested, "I have always worn this sort of hat. It may not suit me,
but it is absolutely impossible for me to alter it now." However, she
took him by means of an omnibus to a hat shop and bought him another
hat and put it on his head, and made a present of the old one to the
shop assistant, and marched him out of the shop. "There!" she said,
"you see how impossible it is." This is a parable. And I will not
insult your intelligence by applying it.</p>
<p>The faculty that we chiefly need when we are in the resolution-making
mood is the faculty of imagination, the faculty of looking at our
lives <span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></SPAN></span>as though we had never looked at them before—freshly, with a
new eye. Supposing that you had been born mature and full of
experience, and that yesterday had been the first day of your life,
you would regard it to-day as an experiment, you would challenge each
act in it, and you would probably arrange to-morrow in a manner that
showed a healthy disrespect for yesterday. You certainly would not
say: "I have done so-and-so once, therefore I must keep on doing it."
The past is never more than an experiment. A genuine appreciation of
this fact will make our new Resolutions more valuable and drastic than
they usually are. I have a dim notion that the most useful Resolution
for most of us would be to break quite fifty per cent. of all the vows
we have ever made. "Do not accustom yourself to enchain your
<i>volatility</i> with vows.... Take this warning; it is of great
importance." (The wisdom is Johnson's, but I flatter myself on the
italics.)</p>
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