One thing stands out in common experience, namely that the revenge exacted is often out of all proportion to the injury originally suffered. I have in mind the man who sets fire to his employer's premises, because he thinks he was unfairly sacked. But if one asks, “In whose opinion is it out of proportion?”, the answer must be, “In the general public's opinion”. And it at once becomes clear that the victim seeking revenge will have had a completely different sense of proportion. In his consciousness (because he is unlikely to have bothered to form any opinion) the revenge was most probably commensurate with the injury he suffered. In other words, his consciousness, his view of things, was completely distorted, at least when compared with most people's sense of proportion. So the suggestion tentatively forms itself: do not motives, and thoughts, have their compulsive power by twisting and distorting one's consciousness out of all proportion, until the injury one has suffered appears intolerable in one's own eyes?
If this is a true picture of the moment before complete loss of control, how was the stage set? Here I think one must distinguish between a sense of inadequacy and a lack of honesty. They frequently go together, but are in fact quite different. There is nothing wrong or immoral about a sense of inadequacy. We all (or most of us) felt hopelessly inadequate at the beginning of our careers. But there are various ways of overcoming inadequacy. An illustration may make clear what I mean.
When I began, one of the tasks assigned to young barristers was to make pleas in mitigation for old lags at Quarter Sessions. And when one was preparing what to say, one thought of all the sonorous phrases which would appeal to the judge's ear. But as time goes by, and the case is due to be called on, one begins to have doubts. One starts to say to oneself, “I can't say that, I haven't the nerve. Nor that!” Until in the end one rises to one's feet, and says,…