Nevertheless, it is not exclusively happiness that is thus gained. So complicated is mind that what contributes to its welfare and removes obstacles to its well-being, at the same time creates new sources of unhappiness, which call for new means, new methods, of relief. “La prévoyance, la prévoyance,” complains Rousseau, “voilà la véritable source de toutes nos misères.” We must make allowance for the exaggeration necessary to make the desired impression; but even then there is much truth in Rousseau’s words. Not all evils spring from prescience, but a good many do. Three classes of unintended and unpleasant effects of knowledge anticipating future events may be described.
As our knowledge expands we become more and more impressed with the narrow limits placed on this expansion, with our insuperable impotence in so many respects. To a child, who knows little and accomplishes little, his inability, his helplessness, does not give much concern. It is the prevalent, one may even say normal, condition of his life, and therefore scarcely gives rise to unpleasant feelings. But the experienced adult, in the full consciousness of his knowledge, of the advantage which this gives to him, strives to know everything, to extend his power over everything. And he is constrained to learn that he will never come near this end. His prescience, the source of so much pleasant feeling, becomes thus a source of immense unpleasantness. Highly important relations of things remain in almost total darkness. Not even the next day’s weather can be foretold, not the issue of the imminent battle, not the bent of the woman he woos. How numerous are the things against which he is almost powerless: human enemies, wild beasts, storm, earthquake, fire, flood, famine, a host of diseases, and last of all the inevitable death. He foresees all the terrors, aware of their power over him. This must fill his life with anxiety and bitterness. “He whose eye is so keen that he sees the dead in their graves, no longer sees the flowers blooming.”
Other evils have their sources, not directly in the mind’s foreseeing, but in the limitations of foreseeing activity. The most fundamental aims of human activity are self-preservation and the preservation of the species. But our feelings indicate that a third class of activities are essential for the completeness of human life, although their contribution to self-preservation and to preservation of the race seems to be limited. The aim of these activities perhaps is only a training of our powers of attention, of unifying in consciousness a number of impressions which indirectly might benefit the two aims first mentioned. Even primitive man devotes a considerable part of his activity to the production of these effects—esthetic impressions from colors, from tones, from symmetry, from rhythm. He ties feathers into his hair, dyes his clothes, and constructs his implements in symmetrical design without being forced by their use to do this. He works rhythmically, either himself or with others; he dances, thus uniting successive movements into regularly repeated groups. But those activities which serve the purpose of self-preservation and race-preservation directly, often occupy his mental energies so exclusively that no time is left for the exercise of these esthetic tendencies. Their suppression then results in deeply felt unpleasantness.
The activities of preservation are a source of evil in still another way. Whatever pleasure they may give, they do not give a lasting peace. As soon as one goal is reached, it appears as a mere stepping stone to a further one. Why does the merchant earn money? In order to earn more money! The fisherman’s wife in the fairy tale, who had been beggarly poor all her life, did not enjoy the comfortable cottage given to her for more than eight days. Then it appeared small and homely to her, and she desired a castle. This obtained, it took only a day to have her wish to be king. And immediately after the satisfaction of this desire, she asked to be made emperor. It is true, not every one is always thus rent by his cravings: the fairy tale places the sober husband at the side of the greedy woman. But a ceaseless, insatiable longing seems to be, in varying intensities, a normal element of human nature. When the attainment of a further end appears clearly impossible, a quiet enjoyment of one’s possessions may be the natural consequence; but even then there is no lasting peace, for the tormenting experience of tedium takes the place of unsatisfied longing.
A third class of evils take their origin from the effects of foreseeing activity, not only on the acting person, but chiefly on the other members of society. The natural endowment of different individuals for the struggle of preservation differs greatly and results in corresponding differences of achievement. In small communities, for instance in the family, the favorable results obtained by one are shared by all. But as larger social groups are formed, this becomes impossible. The results of the individual’s labor remain with him or at least within a smaller circle. This is the origin of property. Certain members of the social group not only procure more, but through the possession of desirable things become able to hire others to work for them. This enables them to increase still more the rate of accumulation of wealth. Thus a chasm is opened between masters and servants. However, his nature compels man to seek the companionship of other men, and this tends to bridge over the chasm. But between one community and another community a similar chasm remains. To steal from the members of another community, to rob them by force, to make war upon them and carry off the plunder, is the same as to rob an apple tree of its fruit or to kill a sheep. Property thus obtained naturally passes into the hands of the masters, increasing their own and their offspring’s powers. The final result is the existence of enormous contrasts: blessedness of a few and wretchedness of the multitude. The total balance is bad: there is more evil in the world than good.
Of course, those who have secured their masterships will say: Why should it be otherwise? Why should a low level of development of human life in all be preferable to a vastly higher development of a few and a still lower one of all the rest? And those youths who are not yet masters, but feel confident of being destined to become masters, readily applaud. There are, however, at least two objections to this view. First, we must remember that all human thought and feeling is determined by the laws of association. The masters cannot help seeing the wretched condition of the slaves, and must thus suffer themselves, although much less. This interferes with the enjoyment of their privileged condition. But the diminution of their happiness on this account may amount to little if they avoid the sight of poverty whenever possible; and that part of it which they cannot avoid seeing, they get accustomed to.
The following objection is more serious. The slaves are not likely to adopt the view of their masters that the contrast of their positions is the natural and just outcome of their respective endowment with bodily and mental abilities. They easily notice that this is only partly true. Especially the rewarding of sons for the merits of their fathers or grandfathers does not find favor with them. Their practical belief—supported by the strongest desires and nourished by the comparison of their own condition with that of the masters—keeps before their minds ideas of improving their lot, even of becoming masters themselves. The authoritative belief in the excellence of the present status, in spite of generations having become accustomed to this status, loses thus much of its force. The slave class is restless and little to be relied on; therefore it must be bridled. The chasm between the classes becomes an abyss. Coöperation between all the members of society, though instinctively wished for and so necessary, is made impossible. A whole nation is torn up; its resistance toward attack from outside is diminished. The strongest people is one whose motto is: all for one, each for all; sooner or later it will overthrow the other. If this does not happen, the internal stress is likely at some time to become too great: the slaves rise and sweep the masters away. In either case the existing society is destroyed.
Notwithstanding the happiness which our foreseeing activity gives us, it carries with it three classes of evils: resulting from the limits of our knowledge, from the limits to which our activity is subject, from the contrast and enmity between social classes. Are there any ways for our mind to overcome these evils? There are some, not absolutely exterminating them, but at least restraining them, keeping them within bounds.
QUESTIONS
210. What are the three evils originating from the evolution of the foreseeing mind?