Resentment
The feeling of resentment for real or imaginary wrongs is one of the most subtle forms of error lurking in the human mind. It is among the hardest to detect and the easiest to excuse. One reason for this subtlety is the fact that the real character of the feeling is often unrecognized; or if recognized, it is excused under the guise of righteous indignation, or cherished as only a desire to administer just retribution to one who has committed an offense.
The dictionary defines resentment as "a sense of injury or affront with a feeling of anger or ill will in view of real or supposed wrong done to one's self or one's friends." It is therefore an indwelling sense of injury that rankles in the human mind; and as implied in the definition given, it may have for its foundation only imaginary causes, or in other words, no real foundation in fact. But the mental condition of the person harboring resentment is not changed, whether the wrong on which the feeling is based is real or imaginary; so that the results will be the same in either case, and the ill effect on his peace of mind, and incidentally upon his bodily welfare, will be the same no matter what may be the cause. It follows that whether the subject be viewed from the dictionary standpoint, where the cause is regarded as sometimes real and sometimes imaginary, or from the Christian Science standpoint, where the cause of all discordant and resentful feelings is declared to be unreal, is quite unimportant, since the question is one concerning the effect upon the person who allows this resentment to rankle in his thought.
In an extreme case, suppose a person permits the feeling of resentment to take the form of violent or uncontrollable rage to such a degree that he seeks to do violent bodily injury to the one who he feels has offered him the affront. Such cases are recognized by almost every one as most deplorable, and the victim of such an uncontrollable temper is pitied by most right-thinking people; but when a person is able to control his temper, extreme indignation is often looked upon in an entirely different light. In fact, great anger and intense indignation over supposed wrong are sometimes considered quite commendable qualities, and calmness under such conditions is supposed to indicate cowardice. It does not appear to be generally understood that this indwelling hatred does as much harm to the one who harbors it as would an outburst of the more violent kind. It should not be inferred that wrong is to be looked upon with equanimity, and that there is to be no resistance against wrong-doing; on the contrary, we should strive to overcome it wherever it may be found. This should ever be done with a desire to help the wrong-doer to change from his ways,—to do him good rather than harm; to help him to cast out the evil spirit, and assist him in freeing himself from the unhappy condition under which he is found to exist.
So long as one cherishes hatred in his consciousness, and longs for the opportunity to come where he can "get even" with his alleged persecutor by doing him the same injury that he feels he himself has received, just so long is he punishing himself with self-inflicted punishment. In "Miscellaneous Writings" (p. 223) Mrs. Eddy says: "To punish ourselves for others' faults, is superlative folly. The mental arrow shot from another's bow is practically harmless, unless our own thought barbs it. It is our pride that makes another's criticism rankle, our self-will that makes another's deed offensive, our egotism that feels hurt by another's self-assertion. Well may we feel wounded by our own faults; but we can hardly afford to be miserable for the faults of others. ... Nothing short of our own errors should offend us. He who can wilfully attempt to injure another, is an object of pity rather than of resentment."
Instead of wishing to destroy our enemies, we should rather wish to destroy the enmity we have been cherishing in our thoughts. When this has been accomplished, we will discover that we have no enemies. In order to destroy thoughts of hatred, however, we must replace them with thoughts of love, and this is accomplished as soon as we bring ourselves to wish to do our enemies good rather than to do them harm. The question then arises, How can we do them good, when to all appearances they are awaiting an opportunity to offer us an affront, and will in all probability scorn any attempted good will on our part? This question was one over which the writer had been pondering for a long time and for which he could see no satisfactory answer. Meanwhile he had been harboring a well-cherished feeling of resentment against conditions imposed by others, which seemed to be such as to thwart his best efforts and to form a barrier against his growth in the line of his natural development. The answer to the question was revealed by a literal "handwriting on the wall," and in a manner that has left a deep impression.
The writer was spending a Sabbath day in the city of Washington and started out in the early morning to walk around the Capitol grounds. It was a glorious morning, with trees beautiful in their bright-colored autumn dress. The writer had hoped that he could leave all discordant feeling behind and find peace for one day, but he found that the inharmony was from within, and that the brightness of the morning would not dispel the gloom, try he ever so hard to forget. In his walk he presently arrived in front of the new railway station and paused to study the architecture of this beautiful structure and to admire the grace and elegance of its splendid detail. Suddenly his eyes rested on an inscription graven in the stone facade, which read,—
Be noble! and the nobleness that lies
In other men, sleeping but never dead,
Will rise in majesty to meet thine own.
Then a little farther down on another panel was the Bible quotation, "Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."
With almost startling suddenness the light burst forth and the glories of the day were apparent. "Be noble" was the lesson. Stand forth as an example of nobility, regardless of who may see or hear, or how they may apparently regard it. Be exemplary in all your actions, whether in the presence of your friends or your enemies; and above all let your inner man fully verify to your own consciousness what your outer man displays to your friends. "Be noble!" Be broad-minded, charitable, forgiving, setting an example which all may be the better for following. This is the truth, and with the knowledge of this truth, freedom from the shackles of self-inflicted punishment will come.