Rational Free Agency.
In contrast with the above, we have already described the mind of man as possessing the power to choose either that which excites the strongest desire or [pg 074] that which the intellect decides to be best for all concerned.
When there is nothing to excite desires, there is no power at all to choose; so that motives are as indispensable to the action of the will as physical causes are to the movement of matter. The more strongly desire is excited the more the power of choice is increased. This gives rise to the universal use of language which characterizes motives as stronger or weaker according as desire is more or less powerful.
The greater part of our choices are for things which are best, so that there is no conflict between what excites the strongest desire and what is best for all. Thus to eat, drink, walk, sleep and perform most of the daily duties of life, are cases where the strongest desire and what is best coincide. In all such cases we choose that which excites the strongest desire. And when we assign the cause or reason for our choice, we say it was the strongest desire which was the cause; that is to say, it was the occasional cause of our choice. But our own mind is the only producing cause of its own volitions.
This exhibits the grand principle of free agency in distinction from its opposite, which is called fatalism, viz.:
Motives are producing causes of desire, and are occasional causes of choice. Mind itself is the only producing cause of choice, having power to choose either that which excites the strongest desire or that which reason and conscience decide to be best for all concerned.
In opposition to this, the fatalist maintains that every act of choice follows the strongest desire, so that there is the same invariable antecedence and sequence [pg 075] between the two as there is in material changes between the necessary cause and effect. This being so, the mind has no power to choose any thing but that which excites the strongest desire.
Now, this is a question which every person, learned or unlearned, can decide. Have we power to choose any other way than as we do choose? Here it is claimed that every human being believes that we have this power, and proves that he believes it by word and action. And if any person were habitually to talk and act as if he believed children and men had no power to choose right when they choose wrong, he would be regarded as having lost his reason.
This, therefore, is placed as one of the principles of common sense, viz., every rational mind has power to choose either that which excites the strongest desire or that which the intellect decides to be best, even when it does not excite the strongest desire.
Moral power is the power to control rational minds by motives.
When no desire for any good and no fear of any evil exists, the mind has no power to choose. Excited desires (or motives) are as indispensable to choice as physical causes are to any change in matter.
The stronger the desire for a thing, the easier it is to choose it; and the less desire there is for a given thing, the harder it is to choose it. This measuring of various degrees of power to choose, is a matter of consciousness to every mind, and it is recognized in all languages. And we find that all mankind, of all languages, recognize the fact that men have power to choose what is best, even when it conflicts with the strongest desire; so much so, that life itself has been [pg 076] relinquished for the good of others, when there was little or no expectation of a future life, or of any consequent good to self.
Moreover, it will be shown in a future chapter that our highest idea of virtue implies a conflict between the strongest desire and the conviction of what is right and best on the whole; so that sometimes men choose what is seen to be wrong and yet excites the strongest desire, and at other times what is right or best, when it does not excite the strongest desire.
All self-control, self-denial and self-government involve the idea of a conflict between the decisions of reason and conscience as to what is best and right, and the importunities of the strongest desire for what is not so.
Subordinate and General Purposes.
There is a constant succession of selections to be made between different modes of securing happiness. A lesser good is given up for a greater, or some good relinquished altogether to avoid some consequent pain. Often, also, some evil is sought as the means of securing some future good, or of avoiding some greater evil. Thus men endure want, fatigue and famine to purchase wealth. Thus the nauseous draught will be swallowed to avoid the pains of sickness; and thus the pleasures of domestic affection will be sacrificed to obtain honor and fame. The whole course of life is a constant succession of such decisions between different modes of securing happiness and of avoiding pain.
In noticing the operation of mind, it will be seen that there is a foundation for two classes of volitions [pg 077] or acts of choice, which may be denominated subordinate and general purposes.
A subordinate purpose is one that secures some particular act, such as the moving of the arm or turning of the head. Such volitions are ordinarily consequent on some more general purpose of the mind, which they aid in accomplishing, and which is, therefore, denominated a general or generic purpose. For example, a man chooses to make a certain journey: this is the general purpose, and, in order to carry it out, he performs a great variety of acts, each one of which aids in carrying out the generic decision.
It can be seen that the general purposes may themselves become subordinate to a still more comprehensive purpose. Thus the man may decide to make a journey, which is a generic choice in reference to all acts subordinate to this end. But this journey may be a subordinate part of a more general purpose to make a fortune, or to secure some other important end.
It is frequently the case that a generic purpose, which relates to objects that require a long time and many complicated operations, exists when the mind seems almost unconscious of its power. For example, a man may form a generic purpose to enter a profession for which years will be required to prepare. And while his whole course of action is regulated by this decision, he engages in pursuits entirely foreign to it, and which seem to engross his whole attention. These pursuits may sometimes be such as are antagonistic to his grand purpose, so as at least to imperil or retard its accomplishment. And yet this strong and quiet purpose remains, and is eventually carried out.
It is the case, also, that a generic choice may be [pg 078] formed to be carried out at some particular time and place, and then the mind becomes entirely unconscious of it till the appointed period and circumstances occur. Then the decision becomes dominant, and controls all other purposes. Thus a man may decide that, at a specified hour, he will stop his studies and perform certain gymnastic exercises. This volition is forgotten until the hour arrives, and then it recurs and is carried out.
This phenomenon sometimes occurs in sleep. Some persons, in watching with the sick, will determine to wake at given hours to administer medicines; then they will sleep soundly till the appointed time comes, when they will waken and perform the predetermined actions.
In regard to the commencement of a generic purpose, we find that sometimes it is so distinct and definite as to be the subject of consciousness and memory. For example, a spendthrift, in some moment of suffering and despondency, may form a determination to commence a systematic course of thrift and economy, and may actually carry it out through all his future life. Such cases are often to be found on record or in every-day life.
In other cases, this quiet, hidden, but controlling purpose seems to be formed by unconscious and imperceptible influences, so that the mind can not revert to the specific time or manner when it originated. For example, a child who is trained from early life to speak the truth, can never revert to any particular moment when this generic purpose originated.
It is sometimes the case, also, that a person will contemplate some generic purpose before it occurs, while [pg 079] the process of its final formation seems almost beyond the power of scrutiny. For example, a man may be urged to relinquish one employment and engage in another. He reflects, consults, and is entirely uncertain how he shall decide. As time passes, he gradually inclines toward the proposed change, until, finally, he finds his determination fixed, he scarcely knows when or how.
Thus it appears that generic purposes commence sometimes so instantaneously and obviously that the time and influences connected with them can be recognized. In other cases, the decision seems to be a gradual one, while in some instances the process can be traced, and in others it is entirely unnoticed or forgotten.
It is in reference to such generic purposes that the moral character of men is estimated. An honest man is one who has a fixed purpose to act honestly in all circumstances. A truthful man is one who has such a purpose to speak the truth at all times.
In such cases, the degree in which such a purpose controls all others is the measure of a man's moral character in the estimate of society.
The history of mankind shows a great diversity of moral character dependent on such generic choices. Some men possess firm and reliable moral principles in certain directions, while they are very destitute of them in others.
Thus it will be seen that some have formed a very decided purpose in regard to honesty in business affairs, who yet are miserable victims to intemperance. Others have cultivated a principle called honor, that restrains them from certain actions regarded as mean, [pg 080] and yet they may be frequenters of gambling saloons and other haunts of vice.
In the religions world, too, it is the case that some who are very firm and decided on all points of religious observances and in the cultivation of devotional emotions, are guilty of very mean actions, such as some worldly men of honor would not practice at the sacrifice of a right hand.
On a Ruling Purpose or Chief End.
The most important of all the voluntary phenomena is the fact that, while there can be a multitude of these quiet and hidden generic purposes in the mind, it is also possible to form one which shall be the dominant or controlling one, to which all the others, both generic and specific, shall become subordinate. In common parlance this would be called the ruling passion. It is also called the ruling purpose, or controlling principle. This consists in the permanent choice of some one mode of securing happiness as the chief end or grand object of life.
There is a great variety of sources of happiness and of suffering to the human mind. Now in the history of our race we find that each one of these modes of enjoyment has been selected by different individuals as the chief end of their existence—as the mode of seeking enjoyment to which they sacrifice every other. Some persons have chosen the pleasures of eating, drinking, and the other grosser enjoyments of sense. Others have chosen those more elevated and refined pleasures that come indirectly from the senses in the emotions of taste.
Others have devoted themselves to intellectual enjoyments [pg 081] as their chief resource for happiness. Others have selected the exercise of physical and moral power, as in the case of conquerors and physical heroes, or of those who have sought to control by moral power, as rulers and statesmen.
Others have made the attainment of the esteem, admiration, and love of their fellow-creatures, their chief end. Others, still, have devoted themselves to the promotion of happiness around them as their chief interest. Others have devoted themselves to the service of God, or what they conceived to be such, and sometimes by the most miserable life of asceticism and self-torture.
Others have made it their main object in life to obey the laws of rectitude and virtue.
In all these cases, the moral character of the person, in the view of all observers, has been decided by this dominant volition, and exactly in proportion to the supremacy with which it has actually controlled all other purposes.
Some minds seem to have no chief end of life. Their existence is a succession of small purposes, each of which has its turn in controlling the life. Others have a strong, defined and all-controlling principle.
Now experience shows that both of these classes are capable, the one of forming and the other of changing such a purpose. For example, in a time of peace and ease there is little to excite the mind strongly; but let a crisis come, where fortune, reputation, and life are at stake, and men and women are obliged to form generic decisions involving all they hold dear, and many minds that have no controlling purpose immediately originate one, while those whose former ruling [pg 082] aims were in one direction change them entirely to another.
This shows how it is that days of peril create heroes, statesmen and strong men and women. The hour of danger calls all the energies of the soul into action. Great purposes are formed with the strongest desire and emotion. Instantly the whole current of thought, and all the coexisting desires and emotions, are conformed to these purposes.
The experience of mankind proves that a dominant generic purpose may extend to a whole life, and actually control all other generic and specific volitions.
How the Thoughts, Desires and Emotions are controlled by the Will.
We will now consider some of the modes by which the will controls the thoughts, desires and emotions.
We have seen, in previous pages, the influence which desire and emotion exert in making both our perceptions and conceptions more vivid. Whatever purpose or aim in life becomes an object of strong desire, is always distinctly and vividly conceived, while all less interesting objects are more faint and indistinct.
We have also seen that whenever any conception arises it always brings connected objects, forming a new and complex picture.
Whenever the mind is under the influence of a controlling purpose, the object of pursuit is always more interesting than any other. This interest always fastens on those particulars in any mental combination that are connected with the ruling purpose and seem fitted to promote it, making them more vivid. Around these selected objects their past associated ideas begin [pg 083] to cluster, forming other complex pictures. In all these combinations, those ideas most consonant with the leading interest of the mind become most vivid, and the others fade away.
The grand method, then, for regulating the thoughts is by the generic decisions of the mind as to the modes of seeking enjoyment.
In regard to the power of the mind over its own desires and emotions, it is very clear that these sensibilities can not be regulated by direct specific volitions. Let any person try to produce love, fear, joy, hope or gratitude by simply choosing to have them arise, and it is soon perceived that no such power exists.
But there are indirect modes by which the mind can control its susceptibilities. The first method is by directing attention to those objects of thought which are fitted to call forth such emotions. For example, if we wish to awaken the emotion of fear, we can place ourselves in circumstances of danger, or call up ideas of horror and distress. If we wish to call forth emotions of gratitude, we can direct attention to acts of kindness to ourselves calculated to awaken such feelings. If we wish to excite desire for any object, we can direct attention to those qualities in that object that are calculated to excite desire. In all these cases the mind can, by an act of will, direct its attention to subjects calculated to excite emotion and desire.
The other mode of regulating the desires and emotions is by the direction of our generic volitions. For example, let a man of business, who has never had any interest in commerce, decide to invest all his property in foreign trade. As soon as this is done, the name of the ship that bears his all can never be heard [pg 084] or seen but it excites some emotion. A storm, that before would go unnoticed, awakens fear; the prices in the commercial markets, before unheeded, now awaken fear or afford pleasure. And thus multitudes of varied desires and emotions are called into existence by this one generic volition.
One result of a purpose to deny an importunate propensity is frequently seen in the immediate or gradual diminution of that desire. For example, if a person is satisfied that a certain article of food is injurious and resolves on total abstinence, it will be found that the desire for it is very much reduced, far more so than when the effort is to diminish the indulgence.
When a generic purpose is formed that involves great interests, it is impossible to prevent the desires and emotions from running consonant with this purpose. The only mode of changing this current is to give up this generic purpose and form another. Thus, if a man has devoted his whole time and energies to money-making, it is impossible for him to prevent his thoughts and feelings from running in that direction. He must give up this as his chief end, and take a nobler object, if he would elevate the whole course of his mental action.
These are the principal phenomena of the grand mental faculty which is the controlling power of the mind, and on the regulation of which all its other powers are dependent.
The nature of regeneration, and the question whether it is instantaneous or gradual or both, all are intimately connected with the subject of this chapter.
Chapter XVI. Constitutional Varieties of the Human Mind.
In the preceding chapters have been presented the most important mental faculties which are common to the race. There are none of the powers and attributes of the mind as yet set forth which do not belong to every mind which is regarded as rational and complete.
But, though all the race have these in common, yet we can not but observe an almost endless variety of human character, resulting from the diverse proportions and combinations of these several faculties.
These constitutional differences may be noticed, first, in regard to the intellectual powers. Some minds are naturally predisposed to exercise the reasoning powers. Others, with precisely the same kind of culture, have little relish for this, and little power of appreciating an argument.
In other cases, the imagination seems to be the predominating faculty. In other minds there seems to be an equal balance of faculties, so that no particular power predominates.
Next we see the same variety in reference to the susceptibilities. In some minds, the desire for love and admiration is the predominating principle. In others, the love of power takes the lead. Some are eminently sympathizing. Others have a strong love of rectitude, or natural conscience. In some, the principle of justice predominates. In others, benevolence is the leading impulse.
Finally, in regard to the power of volition, as has been before indicated, there are some that possess a strong will that is decisive and effective in regulating all specific volitions, while others possess various and humbler measures of this power.
According to the science of Phrenology, some of these peculiarities of mind are indicated by the size and shape of different portions of the brain, and externally indicated on the skull.
That these differences are constitutional, and not the result of education, is clear from the many facts showing that no degree of care or training will serve to efface these distinctive traits of the mind. To a certain degree they may be modified by education, and the equal balance of the faculties be promoted, but never to such a degree as to efface very marked peculiarities.
In addition to the endless diversities that result from these varied proportions and combinations, there is a manifest variety in the grades of mind. Some races are much lower in the scale of being every way than others, while the same disparity exists in individuals of the same race.
The wisdom and benevolence of this arrangement is very manifest when viewed in reference to the interests of a commonwealth. Where some must lead and others follow, it is well that some have the love of power strong, and others have it less. Where some must be rulers, to inflict penalties as well as to apportion rewards, it is well that there be some who have the sense of justice as a leading principle. And so in the developments of intellect. Some men are to follow callings where the reasoning powers are most needed. Others are to adopt pursuits in which taste [pg 087] and imagination are chiefly required; and thus the varied proportions of these faculties become serviceable.
And if it be true that the exercise of the social and moral faculties secures the highest degree of enjoyment, those disparities in mental powers which give exercise to the virtues of compassion, self-denial, fortitude and benevolence in serving the weak, and the corresponding exercises of gratitude, reverence, humility and devotion in those who are thus benefited, then we can see the wisdom and benevolence of this gradation of mental capacity.
Moreover, in a commonwealth perfectly organized, where the happiness of the whole becomes that of each part, whatever tends to the highest general good tends to the best interest of each individual member. This being so, the lowest and humblest in the scale of being, in his appropriate place, is happier than he could be by any other arrangement, and happier than he could be if all were equally endowed.
This subject is very important, because some theologians present these disparities of mental organization as indications of the depravity consequent on Adam's sin.
Chapter XVII. Nature of Mind.—Habit.
This chapter is introduced because some theologians claim that the depravity of man consists either in a habit or in something like a habit.
Habit is a facility in performing physical or mental operations, gained by the repetition of such acts. As examples of this in physical operations may be mentioned the power of walking, which is acquired only by a multitude of experiments; the power of speech, secured by a slow process of repeated acts of imitation; and the power of writing, gained in the same way. Success in every pursuit of life is attained by oft-repeated attempts, which finally induce a habit.
As examples of the formation of intellectual habits, may be mentioned the facility gained in acquiring knowledge by means of repeated efforts, and the accuracy and speed with which the process of reasoning is performed after long practice in this art.
As examples of moral habits may be mentioned those which are formed by the oft-repeated exercise of self-government, justice, veracity, obedience, and industry. The will, as has been shown, gains a facility in controlling specific volitions and in yielding obedience to the laws of right action by constant use, as really as do all the other mental powers.
The happiness of man, in the present state of existence, depends not so much upon the circumstances in which he is placed, or the capacities with which he is endowed, as upon the formation of his habits. A man might have the organ of sight, and be surrounded with all the beauties of nature, and yet, if he did not form the habit of judging of the form, distance and size of bodies, most of the pleasure and use from this sense would be wanting. The world and all its beauties would be a mere confused mass of colors.
If the habits of walking and of speech were not acquired, these faculties and the circumstances for employing [pg 089] them would not furnish the enjoyment they were designed to secure.
It is also the formation of intellectual habits by mental discipline and study, which opens vast resources for enjoyment that otherwise would be for ever closed. And it is by practicing obedience to parents that moral habits of subordination are formed, which are indispensable to our happiness as citizens, and as subjects of government. There is no enjoyment which can be pointed out, which is not, to a greater or less extent, dependent upon this principle.
The influence of habit in regard to the law of sacrifice is especially interesting. The experience of multitudes of our race shows that such tastes and habits may be formed in obeying this law, that what was once difficult and painful becomes easy and pleasant.
But this ability to secure enjoyment through habits of self-control and self-denial, induced by long practice, so far as experience shows, could never be secured by any other method.
That the highest kinds of happiness are to be purchased by more or less voluntary sacrifice and suffering to procure good for others, seems to be a part of that nature of things which we at least may suppose has existed from eternity. We can conceive of the eternal First Cause only as we imagine a mind on the same pattern as our own in constitutional capacities, but indefinitely enlarged in extent and action. Knowledge, wisdom, power, justice, benevolence and rectitude, must be the same in the Creator as in ourselves, at least so far as we can conceive; and, as the practice of self-sacrifice and suffering for the good of others is our highest conception of virtue, it is impossible to regard [pg 090] the Eternal Mind as all-perfect without involving this idea.
The formation of the habits depends chiefly upon the leading desire or governing purpose, because whatever the mind desires the most it will act the most to secure, and thus by repeated acts will form its habits. The character of every individual, therefore, as before indicated, depends upon the mode of seeking happiness selected by the will. Thus the ambitious man has selected the attainment of power and admiration as his leading purpose, and whatever modes of enjoyment interfere with this are sacrificed. The sensual man seeks his happiness from the various gratifications of sense, and sacrifices other modes of enjoyment that interfere with this. The man devoted to intellectual pursuits, and to seeking reputation and influence through this medium, sacrifices other modes of enjoyment to secure this gratification. The man who has devoted his affections and the service of his life to God and the good of his fellow-men, sacrifices all other enjoyments to secure that which results from the fulfillment of such obligations. Thus a person is an ambitious man, a sensual man, a man of literary ambition, or a man of piety and benevolence, according to the governing purpose or leading choice of his mind.
There is one fact in regard to the choice of the leading object of desire, or the governing purpose of life, which is very important. Certain modes of enjoyment, in consequence of repetition, increase the desire, but lessen the capacity of happiness from this source; while, in regard to others, gratification increases the [pg 091] desire, and at the same time increases the capacity for enjoyment.
The enjoyments through the senses are of the first kind. It will be found, as a matter of universal experience, that where this has been chosen as the main purpose of life, though the desire for such pleasures is continually increased, yet, owing to the physical effects of excessive indulgence, the capacity for enjoyment is decreased. Thus the man who so degrades his nature as to make the pleasures of eating and drinking the great pursuit of life, while his desires never abate, finds his zest for such enjoyments continually decreasing, and a perpetual need for new devices to stimulate appetite and awaken the dormant capacities. The pleasures of sense always pall from repetition—grow “stale, flat and unprofitable,” though the deluded being who has thus slavishly yielded to such appetites feels himself bound by chains of habit, which, even when enjoyment ceases, seldom are broken.
The pleasures derived from the exercise of power, when its attainment becomes the master passion, are also of this description. The statesman, the politician, the conqueror, are all seeking for this, and desire never abates while any thing of the kind remains to be attained. We do not find that enjoyment increases in proportion as power is secured. On the contrary, it seems to cloy in possession. Alexander, the conqueror of the world, when he had gained all, wept that objects of desire were extinct, and that possession could not satisfy.
But there are other sources of happiness for which the desire ever continues, and possession only increases the capacity for enjoyment. Of this class is [pg 092] the susceptibility of happiness from giving and receiving affection. Here, the more there is given and received, the more is the power of giving and receiving increased. We find that this principle outlives every other, and even the decays of nature itself. When tottering age on the borders of the grave is just ready to resign its wasted tenement, often from its dissolving ashes the never-dying spark of affection has burst forth with new and undiminished luster. This is that immortal fountain of happiness always increased by imparting, never surcharged by receiving.
Another principle, which increases both desire and capacity by exercise, is the power of enjoyment from being the cause of happiness to others. Never was an instance known of regret for devotion to the happiness of others. On the contrary, the more this holy and delightful principle is in exercise, the more the desires are increased, and the more are the susceptibilities for enjoyment from this source enlarged. While the votaries of pleasure are wearing down with the exhaustion of abused nature, and the votaries of ambition are sighing over its thorny wreath, the benevolent spirit is exulting in the success of its plans of good, and reaching forth to still purer and more perfect bliss.
This principle is especially true in regard to the practice of rectitude. The more the leading aim of the mind is devoted to right feeling and action, or to obedience to all the laws of God, the more both the desire and the capacity of enjoyment from this source are increased.
But there is another fact in regard to habit, which has an immense bearing on the well-being of our race. [pg 093] When a habit of seeking happiness in some one particular mode is once formed, the change of this habit becomes difficult just in proportion to the degree of repetition which has been practiced. A habit once formed, it is no longer an easy matter to choose between the mode of securing happiness chosen and another which the mind may be led to regard as much superior. Thus, in gratifying the appetite, a man may feel that his happiness is continually diminishing, and that, by sacrificing this passion, he may secure much greater enjoyment from another source; yet the force of habit is such, that decisions of the will perpetually yield to its power.
Thus, also, if a man has found his chief enjoyment in that admiration and applause of men so ardently desired, even after it has ceased to charm, and seems like emptiness and vanity, still, when nobler objects of pursuit are offered, the chains of habit bind him to his wonted path. Though he looks and longs for the one that his conscience and his intellect assure him is brightest and best, the conflict with bad habit ends in fatal defeat and ruin. It is true that every habit can be corrected and changed, but nothing requires greater firmness of purpose and energy of will; for it is not one resolution of mind that can conquer habit: it must be a constant series of long-continued efforts.
The influence of habit in reference to emotions deserves special attention as having a direct influence upon character and happiness. All pleasurable emotions of mind, being grateful, are indulged and cherished, and are not weakened by repetition unless they become excessive. If the pleasures of sense are indulged beyond a certain extent, the bodily system is [pg 094] exhausted, and satiety is the consequence. If the love of power and admiration is indulged to excess, so as to become the leading purpose of life, they are found to be cloying. But, within certain limits, all pleasurable emotions do not seem to lessen in power by repetition.
But in regard to painful emotions the reverse is true. The mind instinctively resists or flies from them, so that often a habit of suppressing such emotions is formed, until the susceptibility diminishes, and sometimes appears almost entirely destroyed. Thus a person often exposed to danger ceases to be troubled by fear, because he forms a habit of suppressing it. A person frequently in scenes of distress and suffering learns to suppress the emotions of painful sympathy. The surgeon is an example of the last case, where, by repeated operations, he has learned to suppress emotions until they seldom recur. A person inured to guilt gradually deadens the pangs of remorse, until the conscience becomes “seared as with a hot iron.” Thus, also, with the emotion of shame. After a person has been repeatedly exposed to contempt, and feels that he is universally despised, he grows callous to any such emotions.
The mode by which the mind succeeds in forming such a habit seems to be by that implanted principle which makes ideas that are most in consonance with the leading desire of the mind become vivid and distinct, while those that are less interesting fade away. Now no person desires to witness pain except from the hope of relieving it, unless it be that, in anger, the mind is sometimes gratified with the infliction of suffering. But, in ordinary cases, the sight of suffering [pg 095] is avoided except where relief can be administered. In such cases, the desire of administering relief becomes the leading one, so that the mind is turned off from the view of the suffering to dwell on conceptions of modes of relief. Thus the surgeon and physician gradually form such habits that the sight of pain and suffering lead the mind to the conception of modes of relief, whereas a mind not thus interested dwells on the more painful ideas.
The habits of life are all formed either from the desire to secure happiness or to avoid pain, and the fear of suffering is found to be a much more powerful principle than the desire of happiness. The soul flies from pain with all its energies, even when it will be inert at the sight of promised joy. As an illustration of this, let a person be fully convinced that the gift of two new senses would confer as great an additional amount of enjoyment as is now secured by the eye and ear, and the promise of this future good would not stimulate with half the energy that would be caused by the threat of instant and entire blindness and deafness.
If, then, the mind is stimulated to form good habits and to avoid the formation of evil ones most powerfully by painful emotions, when their legitimate object is not effected they continually decrease in vividness, and the designed benefit is lost. If a man is placed in circumstances of danger, and fear leads to habits of caution and carefulness, the object of exciting this emotion is accomplished, and the diminution of it is attended with no evil. But if fear is continually excited, and no such habits are formed, then the susceptibility is lessened, while the good to be secured by it [pg 096] is lost. So, also, with emotions of sympathy. If we witness pain and suffering, and it induces habits of active devotion to the good of those who suffer, the diminution of the susceptibility is a blessing and no evil. But if we simply indulge emotions, and do not form the habits they were intended to secure, the power of sympathy is weakened, and the designed benefit is lost. Thus, again, with shame: if this painful emotion does not lead us to form habits of honor and rectitude, it is continually weakened by repetition, and the object for which it was bestowed is not secured. And so with remorse: if this emotion is awakened without leading to habits of benevolence and virtue, it constantly decays in power, and the good it would have secured is for ever lost.
It does not appear, however, that the power of emotion in the soul is thus destroyed. This is evident from the fact that the most hardened culprits, when brought to the hour of death, where all plans of future good cease to charm the mental eye, are often overwhelmed with the most vivid emotions of sorrow, shame, remorse and fear. And often, in the course of life, there are seasons when the soul returns from its pursuit of deluding visions to commune with itself in its own secret chambers. At such seasons, shame, remorse and fear take up their abode in their long-deserted dwelling, and ply their scorpion whips till they are obeyed, and the course of honor and virtue is resumed, or till the distracted spirit again flies abroad for comfort and relief.
There is a great diversity in human character, resulting from the diverse proportions and combinations of those powers of mind which the race have in common. [pg 097] At the same time, there is a variety in the scale of being, or relative grade of each mind. While all are alike in the common faculties of the human mind, some have every faculty on a much larger scale than others, while some are of a very humble grade.
The principle of habit has very great influence in modifying and changing these varieties. Thus, by forming habits of intellectual exercise, a mind of naturally humble proportions can be elevated considerably above one more highly endowed by natural constitution. So the training of some particular intellectual faculty, which by nature is deficient, can bring it up nearer to the level of other powers less disciplined by exercise.
In like manner, the natural susceptibilities can be increased, diminished or modified by habit. Certain tastes, that had little power, can be so cultivated as to overtop all others.
So of the moral nature: it can be so exercised that a habit will be formed which will generate a strength and prominency that nature did not impart.
One of the most important results of habit is its influence on faith or belief. Those persons who practice methods of false reasoning, who turn away from evidence and follow their feelings in forming opinions, eventually lose the power of sure, confiding belief.
On the contrary, an honest, conscientious steadiness in seeking the truth and in yielding to evidence, secures the firmest and most reliable convictions, and that peace of mind which alone results from believing the truth.
The will itself is also subject to this same principle. A strong will, that is trained to yield obedience to law [pg 098] in early life, acquires an ease and facility in doing it which belongs ordinarily to weak minds, and yet can retain all its vigor. And a mind that is trained to bring subordinate volitions into strict and ready obedience to a generic purpose, acquires an ease and facility in doing this which was not a natural endowment.
Thus it appears that by the principle of habit every mind is furnished with the power of elevating itself in the scale of being, and of so modifying and perfecting the proportions and combinations of its constitutional powers, that often the result is that there is no mode of distinguishing between the effects of habit and those of natural organization.
Chapter XVIII. The Nature of Mind Our Guide to the Natural Attributes of God.
The natural attributes of any mind are the powers and faculties to be exercised, while it is the action or voluntary use of these faculties that exhibits the moral attributes.
Having gained the existence of a Great First Cause by the use of one principle of common sense, and the fact that this cause is an intelligent mind by another, it has been shown that a third of these principles leads to the belief that the natural attributes of God are like our own. We can not conceive of any other kind of minds than our own, because we have never had any past experience or knowledge of any other.
But while we thus conclude that the mind of the Creator is, so far as we can conceive, precisely like our own in constitutional organization, we are as necessarily led to perceive that the extent of these powers is far beyond our own. A mind with the power, wisdom and goodness exhibited in the very small portion of his works submitted to our inspection, who has inhabited eternity, and matured through everlasting ages—our minds are lost in attempting any conception of the extent of such infinite faculties!
Thus we are necessarily led to conceive of the Creator as possessing the intellectual powers described in previous pages. He perceives, conceives, imagines, judges and remembers just as we do.
So also all our varied susceptibilities to pleasure and pain exist in the Eternal Mind. The desire of good and the fear of evil which are the motive power in the human mind, exist also in the divine. Thus by the light of nature we settle the question that the existence of susceptibilities to pain and evil are not the results of the Creator's will, but are a part of the eternal nature of things which he did not originate or control.
All the minds we ever knew or heard of are moved to action by desire to gain happiness and escape pain, and as we can conceive of no other kind of mind than our own, we must attribute to the Creator this foundation element of mental activity.
Thus we are led to attribute to the Creator all those susceptibilities included in the moral sense, as described in previous pages. His mind, like ours, feels that whatever makes the most happiness with the least [pg 100] evil is right; that is to say, it is fitted to the eternal nature of things, of which his own mind is a part.
So also the Creator possesses that sense of justice implanted in our own minds, which involves the desire of good to those who make happiness, and of evil to those who destroy happiness; and which also demands that such retributions be proportioned to the good and evil done, and to the power of the agent.
So also we must conceive of the Creator as possessing the susceptibility of conscience, which includes in the very constitution of mind retributions for right and wrong action.
Again, we are led to conceive of God as a rational free agent, with power to choose either that which excites the strongest desire or that which is perceived to be best on the whole for all concerned, even if it does not excite the strongest desire.
Again, we are to conceive of the Creator as possessing a belief in those principles of reason which he has implanted in our minds, and made our guide in all matters, both of temporal and religious concern.
Again, our experience of the nature and history of mind, leads to the inference that no being has existed from all eternity in solitude, but that there is more than one eternal, uncreated mind, and that all their powers of enjoyment from giving and receiving happiness in social relations have been in exercise from eternal ages. This is the just and natural deduction of reason and experience, as truly as the deduction that there is at least one eternal First Cause.
Again, all our experience of mind involves the idea of the mutual relation of minds. We perceive that minds are made to match to other minds, so that there [pg 101] can be no complete action of mind, according to its manifest design, except in relation to other beings. A mind can not love till there is another mind to call forth such emotion. A mind can not bring a tithe of its power into appropriate action except in a community of minds. The conception of a solitary being, with all the social powers and sympathies of the human mind infinitely enlarged, and yet without any sympathizing mind to match and meet them, involves the highest idea of unfitness and imperfection conceivable, while it is contrary to our uniform experience of the nature and history of mind.
It has been argued that the unity of design in the works of nature proves that there is but one creating mind. This is not so, for in all our experience of the creations of finite beings no great design was ever formed without a combination of minds, both to plan and to execute. The majority of minds in all ages, both heathen and Christian, have always conceived of the Creator as in some way existing so as to involve the ideas of plurality and of the love and communion of one mind with another.
And yet the unity and harmony of all created things as parts of one and the same design, teach a degree of unity in the authorship of the universe never known in the complex action of finite minds.
Thus a unity and plurality in the Creator of all things is educed by reason and experience from the works of nature.
Chapter XIX. The Nature of Mind Our Guide to the Moral Attributes of God.
Having employed the principles of common sense to gain a knowledge of the natural attributes of God, we are next to employ the same principles to gain his moral character; or those attributes which are exhibited in willing. In other words, we are to seek the character of God as expressed in his works or deeds.
In our experience of the moral character of minds in this world, we find that some of the highest grades as to intellect and susceptibilities, are lowest as to good-willing. How is it, then, with the highest mind of all? Does he so prefer evil to good, that he deliberately plans for the production of evil when he has power to produce happiness in its place? Or does he sometimes prefer evil and sometimes good, with the variable humors of the human race? Or does he always prefer good when it costs him no trouble or sacrifice, but never when it does? Or is he one who invariably chooses what is best for all, even when it involves painful sacrifices to himself?
In seeking a reply to these momentous questions, we return once more to the principle of common sense before stated, i.e., the nature of any work or contrivance is proof of the character and design of the author.
In examining the works of the Creator, we find that the material world impresses us as wisely adjusted and good in construction, only as it is fitted to give enjoyment to sentient beings. It is the intelligent, [pg 103] feeling, acting minds that give the value to every other existence. If there were no minds, all perception of beauty, fitness and goodness would perish.
It is minds, therefore, which are the chief works of the Creator's hand, and which give value to all others.
If the nature of these minds is evil, then the author of them is proved to be evil by his works. If their nature is good and perfect, then their author is proved to be good and perfect.
Here again we are driven back to our own minds to gain the only conceptions possible to us, not only of wisdom, but of goodness or benevolence.
On examination, we shall find that we can form no idea of these qualities which does not involve a limitation of power.
Our idea of power is that which we gain when we will to move our bodies or to make any other change, and this change ensues. Our only idea of a want of power is gained when the choice or willing of a change or event does not produce it. Whenever, therefore, it shall appear that the Creator wills or wishes a thing to exist or to be changed, and that change or existence does not follow his so willing, we can not help believing that he has not the power to produce it?
Again; our idea of perfectness always has reference to power; for a thing is regarded as perfect in construction only when there is no power in God or man to make it better. When any arrangement is as good as it can be, so that neither God nor man has power to make it better, we regard it as perfect, even when there is some degree of evil involved.
We are now prepared to define what is included in [pg 104] the terms perfect wisdom and perfect benevolence, when applied to the Creator or to any other being, thus: A perfectly wise being is one who invariably wills the best possible ends and the best possible means of accomplishing those ends.
An imperfectly wise being is one who does not invariably do this.
A perfectly benevolent being is one who invariably wills the most good and the least evil in his power. An imperfectly benevolent being is one who does not invariably will thus.
The degree in which a being is ranked as wise and good is estimated by the extent to which his willing good or evil corresponds with his power.
Thus it appears that, in a system where evil exists, the very idea of perfect benevolence and wisdom involves the supposition of a limitation of power.
To return, then, to the question as proposed at the commencement of the chapter—Is the Creator a being who prefers good to evil invariably, or is he one who only sometimes prefers evil to good, and at other times prefers good to evil, with the varying humors of man; or does he invariably choose what is best for all, even in cases where it may cost personal sacrifice and suffering to himself?
It will be the object of what follows to prove that the last supposition is the true one.
In attempting this, we again take the principle of common sense, that “the nature of any contrivance proves the design and character of the author.” Then we proceed to a review of the nature, first of mind, and next of the material world, to prove that the design or chief end of the Creator is, not to make happiness [pg 105] irrespective of the amount, but to produce the greatest possible happiness with the least possible evil. In other words, we are to seek for proof that God has done all things for the best, so that he has no power to do better.
In still another form, we are to seek for evidence, in the nature of God's works, that he has ever done the best he could, so that the amount of evil that ever was or ever will exist, is not caused by his willing it, but by his want of power to prevent it; so that any change would be an increase of evil and a lessening of good to the universe as a whole.
In pursuing this attempt, it will be needful to reproduce two or three chapters of a work by the author, already before the public, entitled, The Bible and the People; or, Common Sense applied to Religion.
In this work the nature of mind is presented very much more in detail, for the same purpose as that here indicated. What will now follow is a brief review of previous chapters in that work, as a summary of the evidence there presented that the chief end of God in all his works is to produce the greatest possible happiness with the least possible evil.
Whenever we find any contrivances all combining to secure a certain good result, which, at the same time, involve some degree of inevitable evil, and then discover that there are contrivances to diminish and avoid this evil, we properly infer that the author intended to secure as much of the good with as little of the evil as possible. For example, a traveler finds a deserted mine, and all around he discovers contrivances for obtaining gold, and, at the same time, other contrivances for getting rid of the earth mixed with it. The [pg 106] inevitable inference would be that the author of these contrivances designed to secure as much gold with as little earth as possible; and should any one say that he could have had more gold and less earth if he chose to, the answer would be that there is no evidence of this assertion, but direct evidence against it.
Again: should we discover a piece of machinery in which every contrivance tended to secure a speed in movement, produced by the friction of wheels against a rough surface, and at the same time other contrivances were found for diminishing all friction that was useless, we should infer that the author designed to secure the greatest possible speed with the least possible friction.
In like manner, if we can show that mind is a contrivance that acts by the influence of fear of evil, and that pain seems as indispensable to the action of a free agent as friction is to motion; if we can show that there is no contrivance in mind or matter which is designed to secure suffering as its primary end; if we can, on the contrary, show that the direct end of all the organizations of mind and matter is to produce happiness; if we can show that it is only the wrong action of mind that involves most of the pain yet known, so that right action, in its place, would secure only happiness; if we can show contrivances for diminishing pain, and also contrivances for increasing happiness by means of the inevitable pain involved in the system of things, then the just conclusion will be gained that the Author of the system of mind and matter designed “to produce the greatest possible happiness with the least possible evil.”
In the pages which follow, we shall present evidence exhibiting all these particulars.
The only way in which we learn the nature of a thing is to observe its qualities and actions. This is true of mind as much as it is of matter. Experience and observation teach that the nature of mind is such, that the fear of suffering is indispensable to secure a large portion of the enjoyment within reach of its faculties, and that the highest modes of enjoyment can not be secured except by sacrifice, and thus by more or less suffering.
This appears to be an inevitable combination, as much so as friction is inevitable in machinery.
We have the evidence of our own consciousness that it is fear of evil to ourselves or to others that is the strongest motive power to the mind. If we should find that no pain resulted from burning up our own bodies, or from drowning, or from any other cause; if every one perceived that no care, trouble, or pain resulted from losing all kinds of enjoyment, the effort to seek it would be greatly diminished.
If we could desire good enough to exert ourselves to seek it, and yet should feel no discomfort in failing; if we could lose every thing, and feel no sense of pain or care, the stimulus to action which experience has shown to be most powerful and beneficent would be lost.
We find that abundance of ease and prosperity enervates mental power, and that mind increases in all that is grand and noble, and also in the most elevating happiness, by means of danger, care and pain. We may properly infer, then, that evil is a necessary part of the experience of a perfectly-acting mind.
So strong is the conviction that painful penalties are indispensable, that the kindest parents and the most benevolent rulers are the most sure to increase rather than diminish those that are already involved in the existing nature of things.
Again: without a revelation we have no knowledge of any kind of mind but by inference from our experience in this state of being. All we know of the Eternal First Cause is by a process of reasoning, inferring that his nature must be like the only minds of which we have any knowledge. We assume, then, that he is a free agent, regulated by desire for happiness and fear of evil.
We thus come to the conclusion that this organization of mind is a part of the fixed and eternal nature of things, and does not result from the will of the Creator. His own is the eternal pattern of an all-perfect mind, and our own are formed on this perfect model, with susceptibilities to pain as an indispensable motive power in gaining happiness.
We will now recapitulate some of the particulars in the laws and constitution of mind which tend to establish the position that its Creator's grand design is “to produce the greatest possible happiness with the least possible evil.”