Content

Horowhenua Chronicle, 14 August 1911, Page 4

Content

(Bv G. K. CHESTKirrOX in the, "Daily -Moil.')

The- word l at the head' of tliis article is easy to spoil; and looks sufficiently soothing ami innocent. Ft prepares the mind for a little sermon in tlio style of tin? Vicar of Wakefield about 'how you and f should .be satisfied with our countryfied innocence and our simple village sports. Til© word, however, has two meanings, somewhat singularly connected; the "sweet content" 'of the poet and the "cubic content" of the mathematician. Some distinguish these by stressing the different syllables. ' This, it might happen to any of us, at some social juncture, to' remark gaily, "Of the content of the King of the Cannibal Islands' Stewpot T. am content to be ignorant" ; or, "Xot content with measuring the cu'hic content of my wife, you are stealing the spoons." And there really is an analogy between the mathematical and the moral use of the term, for lack of the observation of which the latter has boen much weakened and misused.

The preaching of contentment is in disrepute, well-deserved in so far that the moral is really quite applicable to the anarchy and insane peril of our tall and toppling cities. Content suggests some kiirtl of security; and it is not strange that our workers should always think about rising above their position, since they have so continually to think ab'out sinking below it. Th-. 1 philanthropist who urges the poor to sa.ving and simple pleasures deserves all the decision that he gets. To advise people to he content with what they have got -may or mny not be sound moral philosophy. A P.TEC.E OP TMPUDENT-E. Hut to urge people to be content with what they havn't got is a piece of impudence hard for even th? English poor to pardon. But though the creed of content is unsiiited to certain special riddles and wrongs, it remains true for the normal of mortal life. We speak of divine discontent; discontent may sometimes be a divine thing. ]t may lie true that a particular man, in his relation to his master or his neighbours, to his country or ilnis enemies, will do well to be fiercely unsatisfied or thirsting for an angry justice. But it is not true, no sane person can call it true, that man as a whole in his gene ral attitude towards death or green fields, towards the weather or the baby, will be wise to cultivate dissatisfaction. Fn a broad estimate of our earthly experience, tho great truism on the tablet _ remains; iho must not covet his neighbour's ox nor his ass. nor anything that is his. Tn highly complex and scientific civilisations he may sometimes findh iniself foreed into an exceptional vigilance. But, in highly complex and scientific civilisations nine times out of ten he only wants his own ass back.

But T wisih- to urge the cn.se for cubic content; in which (even more than in moral content) I take a personal interest. Xow. moral content has been under-valued and neglected because of its separation from the other meaning. It has become, a negative rather than a, positive thing. Tn some accounts of contentment is seems to be little nvore than a meek despair. ■ THE TRUE MEAXTXG. But this is not the true meaning of the term ; it should stand for the idea of a. positive and thorough appreciation of .the content of anything; for feeling the substance and not merely the. surface of experience. "Content" ought to mean in English, as it does in French, being pleased; placidly, perhaps, but still positively pleased. Being contented with bread and cheese ougiht mot to mean not cairng wihat you eat. Tt ought to mean caring for bread and cheese; handling -and enjoying the cubic content of the bread and cheese and adding it to your own. Being content with an attic ought not to mean being unable to .move from it and resigned to living in it. It ought to mean appreciating what there is to appreciate in such a position; suoh as the quaint and elvish slope of the ceiling or the sublime aerial view of the opposite chimney pots. And in' this sense contentment is <a real and even an active virtue; it is not only affirmative, but creative. The poet in the attic does not forget tlie attic in poetic musings; lie remembers what ever the attic, has of poetry ; ho realises how high, how sta.rry, how cool, how unadorned and simple—in short how Attic is the attic.

True contentment is a thinp; as active as agriculture. Tt is" the power of getting out of any situation all that More is in it." It is arduous and it is rare. Tim absence of this digestive talent is what makes so cold and incredible the tales of so many people who say they ilmve been "through" tluinns; when it is evident that they have come out on the other side quite unchanged A man might have gone through" a plum pudding as a. bullet might go through >a plum puddincr: it depends on the size of the pudding—and the man. But the awful and sacred question is. "Has th© pudding 'been through Un'm?" Has he tasted, appreciated, and absorbed tn© solid puddimg, with its three dimensions and its three thousand tastes and smells? Can he offer himself to tho eyes of men as one wiho has eniiically conquered and contained a pudding? KICKING THE LADDER. In the same way we may ask of those who profess to have passed through trivial or tragic 'experiences whether they have absorbed the content of them; whether they licked up suoh living water as there was. It is i pertinent question in connection with many modem problems. Thus the young genius says, " I have lived in my dreary and squalid village before I found success in Paris or Vienna." The sound .philosopher will answer, "You have never lived , ir. your village, or you would not cal lit dreary and squalid." Thus the Imperialist, the Colonial idealist (who commonly speaks and always thinks with a Yankee accent) will say "I've been right away from these little muddy islands, and seen great seas and prairies." The spnnrt philosopher will reply, "You ha.ve never been in these islands: vou have never seen the weald of Sussex of the plain of Salisbury ; othvou could' never have called them either inruddv or little."

Thus'the Suffragette will say, "T have imsod through tlie waltry duties of pots and pans, the drudgery of

tire vidgar kitchen : but T have come, out to'intollpctiKil liberty." Tlie sound philosopher will answer, "You have never passed through the kitchen oi you never would call it vulgar. Wiser and stronger women than you have really seen a poetry in note and pans: naturally, because there i* a. pnelry in them." It is riu'lit for the village, violinist to ciiinl into fame in Paris or Viciiinn ; it is right for tho stray _ Englishman climb .across the hi'lh shonldor .!' the w<s*ld; it is right foir the woman to climb into whatever cathedral oi hi»>!i places she can allow heir sexual dignity. But it. is wrong that any of these climbers should kick the ladder by which they have climbed'

■Morallv (and bore, alas, th>e metaphor fails), morallv the very fact that vou kick th'o lnddor is a .proof that you have never cli.mbed it. When you have really exhausted a;i experience vou alwavs reverence, and love it The two things that lvonrlv all of u>: have thoroiurhlv and renllv been through childhood and vouth And though wo would not have, thorn ba-"k asain on am , account we feel tint they are both bonutiful becaii' , .- 1 wo have drunk them drv.