Many thanks for your admirably detailed letter. The attitude you speak of, that of cursing the world and oneself, is, in a sense, the beginning of wisdom. Revolt is the first reaction of an intelligent man when he begins to understand the desperate nature of his situation in the world; and it is probably true to say that nothing great has ever been achieved except by a man in revolt against his situation. But revolt alone is not enough—it eventually contradicts itself. A man in blind revolt is like someone in a railway compartment trying to stop the train by pushing against the opposite seat with his feet: he may be strong enough to damage the compartment, but the damaged compartment will nevertheless continue to move with the train. Except for the arahat, we are all in this train of samsāra, and the problem is to stop the train whilst still travelling in it. Direct action, direct revolt, won't do; but something, certainly, must be done. That it is, in fact, possible to stop the train from within we know from the Buddha, who has himself done it:

I, monks, being myself subject to birth, decay, and death, having seen the misery of subjection to birth, decay, and death, went in search of the unborn, undecaying, undying, uttermost quietus of extinction (nibbāna), and I reached the unborn, undecaying, undying, uttermost quietus of extinction.
Revolt by all means, but let the weapons be intelligence and patience, not disorder and violence; and the first thing to do is to find out exactly what it is that you are revolting against. Perhaps you will come to see that what you are revolting against is avijjā.

'Absolute Unselfishness'

B.N. tells us that one of the principles of the Oxford Group is 'Absolute Unselfishness', which is perhaps worth discussing briefly. Some casual English visitors (two 'grisly English faces'—Cyril Connolly's phrase—hitchhiking around the world) came the other day and asked me whether it wasn't rather selfish to sit here alone seeking my own welfare. The idea was, no doubt, that I should busy myself with helping others, like Albert Schweitzer, who is generally regarded these days as the model of unselfish devotion to the service of others. Another Albert—Einstein—has something to say about this:
Everything that the human race has done and thought is concerned with the satisfaction of felt needs and assuagement of pain. One has to keep this constantly in mind if one wishes to understand spiritual movements and their development. Feeling and desire are the motive forces behind all human endeavour and human creation, in however exalted a guise the latter may present itself to us. ('Religion and Science' in The World As I See It, p. 23)
Why, then, does Albert Schweitzer devote his life to the care and cure of lepers in Africa? Because, says Albert Einstein, he feels the need to do so; because in doing so he satisfies his desire. And what does the Buddha say? 'Both formerly, monks, and now, it is just suffering that I make known, and the ending of suffering.' <M. 22: i,140> Einstein has, to some extent, understood that suffering is the fundamental fact and the basis of all action. The Buddha has completely understood this; for he knows also the way of escape, which Einstein does not. When, therefore, the question 'What should I do?' arises,[a] the choice is not between being selfish and being unselfish; for whatever I do I cannot avoid being selfish—all action is selfish. The choice is between being selfish in Schweitzer's way—by unselfish devotion to the welfare of others—and being selfish in the Buddha's way—
The welfare of oneself should not be neglected for the welfare of others, however great; recognizing the welfare of oneself, one should be devoted to one's own welfare. (Dhammapada 166)
How are we to choose between these two ways of being selfish? The answer is: 'choose the way of being selfish that leads to the ending of being selfish; which is the Buddha's way, not Schweitzer's'. There are many earnest Buddhists in Ceylon who are scandalized by the Buddha's words quoted above; but naturally enough they will not admit such a thing, even to themselves; either they skip that verse when they read the Dhammapada or else they add a footnote explaining that the Buddha really meant something quite different. Here is the actual note made by a very well known Ceylon Thera: 'One must not misunderstand this verse to mean that one should not selflessly work the for weal of others. Selfless service is highly commended by the Buddha'. But this itself is a complete misunderstanding of the Buddha's Teaching. Time and again the Buddha points out that it is only those who have successfully devoted themselves to their own welfare and made sure of it (by reaching sotāpatti) that are in a position to help others—one himself sinking in a quicksand cannot help others to get out, and if he wishes to help them he must first get himself out (and if he does get himself out, he may come to see that the task of helping others to get out is not so easy as he formerly might have supposed). The notion of 'Absolute Unselfishness' is less straightforward than people like to think: it applies, if properly understood (but nobody less than sotāpanna does properly understand it), to the Buddha and to the other arahats (which does not mean to say that they will necessarily devote themselves to 'selfless service'), but not to anyone else.
Footnotes:

[a] For most people, of course, the question does not arise—they are already fully devoted to seeking the means for gratification of their sensual desires and fulfillment of their worldly ambitions.
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