CHAPTER XXII.

MIND AS PROOF OF ITS CREATOR'S DESIGNS.

We have seen that the mind of man, by its very constitution, has certain

implanted truths which it believes from the necessity of its nature, and

that these are the foundation of all acquired knowledge, and the guide

to all truth.

We have seen that, independently of a revelation, we have no other

sources of knowledge except these intuitions, the experience of

ourselves and others, and the deductions of reasoning.

We have examined as to the amount of knowledge to be gained from these

sources in regard to the nature of mind, the laws of the system of which

it is the essential part, the immortality of the soul, our prospects

after death, and the character and designs of our Creator.

In discussing the last topic, it has been assumed that the grand and

ultimate design of the Creator is "to produce the greatest possible

happiness with the least possible evil."

We have examined, at some length, the chief faculties and laws of the

human mind, for the purpose of exhibiting their adaptation to this

design.

We now proceed to a brief review of this portion as a _summing up_ of

the evidence sustaining the proposition that the grand end of the

Creator, in forming mind, is _to produce the greatest possible happiness

with the least possible evil_.

As preliminary, however, we need to refer to one principle.

Whenever we find any contrivances all combining to secure a certain good

result, which, at the same time, involves 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 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 wished it, 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 _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."[3]

In the review which follows, 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."

_Intellectual Powers._

First, then, in reference to the earliest exercise of mind in

_sensation_. The eye might have been so made that light would inflict

pain, and the ear so that sound would cause only discomfort. And so of

all the other senses.

But the condition of a well-formed, healthy infant is a most striking

illustration of the adaptation of the senses to receive enjoyment. Who

could gaze on the countenance of such a little one, as its various

senses are called into exercise, without such a conviction? The delight

manifested as the light attracts the eye, or as pleasant sounds charm

the ear, or as the limpid nourishment gratifies its taste, or as gentle

motion and soft fondlings soothe the nerves of touch, all testify to the

benevolent design of its Maker.

Next come the pleasures of _perception_ as the infant gradually observes

the qualities of the various objects around, and slowly learns to

distinguish its mother and its playthings from the confused mass of

forms and colors. Then comes the gentle curiosity as it watches the

movement of its own limbs, and finally discovers that its own volitions

move its tiny fingers, while the grand idea that _it is itself a cause_

is gradually introduced.

Next come the varied intellectual pleasures as the several powers are

exercised in connection with the animate and material world around, in

acquiring the meaning of words, and in imitating the sounds and use of

language. The adult, in toiling over the dry lexicon, little realizes

the pleasure with which the little one is daily acquiring the

philosophy, grammar, and vocabulary of its mother tongue.

A child who can not understand a single complete sentence, or speak an

intelligible phrase, will sit and listen with long-continued delight to

the simple enunciation of words, each one of which presents a picture to

his mind of a dog, a cat, a cow, a horse, a whip, a ride, and many other

objects and scenes that have given pleasure in the past; while the

single words, without any sentences, bring back, not only vivid

conceptions of these objects, but a part of the enjoyment with which

they have been connected.

Then, as years pass by, the intellect more and more administers

pleasure, while the reasoning powers are developed, the taste

cultivated, the imagination exercised, the judgment employed, and the

memory stored with treasures for future enjoyment.

In the proper and temperate use of the intellectual powers, there is a

constant succession of placid satisfaction, or of agreeable and often of

delightful emotions, while no one of these faculties is productive of

pain except in violating the laws of the mental constitution.

_The Susceptibilities._

In regard to the second general class of mental powers--_the

susceptibilities_--the first particular to be noticed is the ceaseless

and all-pervading _desire to gain happiness and escape pain_. This is

the mainspring of all voluntary activity; for no act of volition will

take place till some good is presented to gain, or some evil to shun. At

the same time, as has been shown, the desire to escape evil is more

potent and effective than the desire for good. Thousands of minds that

rest in passive listlessness, when there is nothing to stimulate but

hope of enjoyment, will exert every physical and mental power to escape

impending evil. The seasons of long-continued prosperity in nations

always tend to a deterioration of intellect and manhood. It is in

seasons of danger alone that fear wakes up the highest energies, and

draws forth the heroes of the race.

Mind, then, is an existence having the power of that self-originating

action of _choice_ which constitutes free agency, while this power can

only be exercised when desires are excited to gain happiness or to

escape pain. This surely is the highest possible evidence that its

Author _intended_ mind should thus act.

But a mind may act to secure happiness and avoid pain to itself, and yet

may gain only very low grades of enjoyment, while much higher are within

reach of its faculties. So, also, it may act to gain happiness for

itself as the chief end in such ways as to prevent or destroy the

happiness of others around.

In reference to this, we find those susceptibilities which raise man to

the dignity of a moral being.

In the first place, there is that _impression of the great design_ of

the Creator existing in every mind, either as a result of constitution

or of training, or of both united, which results in a feeling that

whatever lessens or destroys happiness is unfit and contrary to the

system of things.

Next there is the power to balance pleasure and pain, and estimate the

compound result, both in reference to self and to the commonwealth. With

this is combined the feeling that whatever secures _the most_ good with

_the least_ evil is right and fit, and that the opposite is wrong and

unfitted to the nature of things.

Next comes the _sense of justice_, which results in an impulse _to

discover the cause_ of good and evil, and when this cause is found to be

a voluntary agent, a consequent impulse to make returns of good for

good, and of evil for evil, and also to _proportion_ retributive rewards

or penalties to the amount of good or evil done.

With this, also, is combined the feeling that those retributions should

be applied only where there was _voluntary_ power to have done

otherwise. When it is seen that there was no such power, the impulse to

reward or punish is repressed.

Such is the deep conviction that such retributions are indispensable,

that where natural pains and penalties do not avail, others are

demanded, both in the family and in the commonwealth.

Lastly, we find the susceptibility of _conscience_, which, by the very

framework of the mind itself, apportions the retributive pangs of

remorse for wrong doing, and the pleasure of self-approval for well

doing. These, too, are retributions never to be escaped, and the most

exquisite, both in elevated happiness and exquisite pain. The mind

carries about in itself its own certain and gracious remunerator--its

own inexorable prosecutor, judge, and executioner.

This same design of the Creator may be most delightfully traced in what

may be called the _economy_ of happiness and pain.

One particular of this is set forth at large in the chapter on the

_emotions of taste_. Here we find the mind formed not only to secure

multitudinous enjoyments through the nerves of sensation, but that, by

the principle of association, there is a perpetual _reproduction_ of

these emotions in connection with the colors, forms, sounds, and motions

with which they were originally associated. Thus there are perpetually

returning emotions of pleasure so recondite, so refined, so almost

infinite in variety and extent, and yet how little noticed or

understood!

Another indication of the same kind is the peculiarity pointed out on

former pages, where it is shown that securing certain enjoyments which

tend to promote the _general_ happiness increases both desire and

capacity for enjoyment, while those that terminate in the individual

diminish by possession. Thus the enjoyment of power, which must, from

its nature, be confined to a few, diminishes by possession. Thus, too,

the pleasures of sense pall by indulgence. But the enjoyment resulting

from the exercise and reciprocation of love, and that resulting from

benevolent actions, and that which is included in a course of perfect

obedience to all the rules of rectitude, increases the capacity for

enjoyment.

Another illustration of the same principle is exhibited in the chapter

on Habit, where it is seen that the power of pleasurable emotions

increases by repetition, while painful emotions decrease when the good

to be secured by their agency is attained. Thus _fear_ seems to protect

from danger till caution and habit render it needless, and then it

decreases. And so of other painful emotions.

It is interesting to trace the same design in the constitution of minds

in _regard to each other_. We find that the purest and highest kind of

happiness is dependent on the mutual relations of minds. Thus the

enjoyment resulting from the discovery of intellectual and moral traits

in other minds--that resulting from giving and receiving affection--that

gained by sympathy, and by being the cause of happiness to others, and

that resulting from conscious rectitude, all are dependent on the

existence of other beings.

Now we find that minds are relatively so constituted that _what one

desires, it is a source of happiness in another to bestow_. Thus one can

be pleased by the discovery of certain traits in other minds, while, in

return, the exhibition of these traits, and the consciousness that they

are appreciated, is an equal source of enjoyment. One mind seeks the

love of others, while these, in return, are desiring objects of

affection, and rejoice to confer the gift that is sought. The desire of

knowledge or the gratification of curiosity is another source of

pleasure, while satisfying this desire is a cause of enjoyment to those

around. How readily do mankind seize upon every opportunity to convey

interesting news to other minds!

Again: we find that, both in sorrow and in joy, the mind seeks for the

sympathy of others, while this grateful and soothing boon it is

delightful to bestow. So, also, the consciousness of being the cause of

good to another sends joy to the heart, while the recipient is filled

with the pleasing glow of gratitude in receiving the benefit. The

consciousness of virtue in acting for the general good, instead of for

contracted, selfish purposes, is another source of happiness, while

those who witness its delightful results rejoice to behold and

acknowledge it. What bursts of rapturous applause have followed the

exhibition of virtuous self-sacrifice for the good of others from bosoms

who rejoiced in this display, and who could owe this pleasure to no

other cause than the natural constitution of mind, which is formed to be

made happy both in beholding and in exercising virtue.

This same beneficial economy is manifested in a close analysis of all

that is included in the affections of _love_ and _gratitude_.

It has been shown that, in the commencement of existence, the young mind

first learns the sources of good and evil to self, and its sole motives

are desire for its own enjoyment.

Soon, however, it begins to experience the happiness resulting from the

relations of minds to each other, and then is developed the superior

power of _love_, and its importance as a regulating principle.

In the analysis of this affection, it is seen to consist, first, in the

pleasurable emotions which arise in view of those traits of character in

another mind pointed out on previous pages. When these qualities are

discovered, the first result is emotions of pleasure in the

contemplation. Immediately there follows _a desire of good_ to the cause

of this pleasure. Next follows the desire of reciprocated

affection--that is, a desire is awakened _to become the cause of the

same pleasure_ to another; for the desire of _being loved_ is the desire

to be the cause of pleasurable emotions in another mind, in view of our

own good qualities. When we secure this desired appreciation, then

follows an increased _desire of good_ to the one who bestows it.

Thus the affection of love is a combination of the action and reaction

of pleasurable emotions, all tending to awaken the desire of good to

another. This passion may become so intensified that it will become more

delightful to secure enjoyments to another than to procure them for

self.

Gratitude is the emotion of pleasure toward the author of _voluntary_

good to self, attended by a desire of good to the benefactor. This

principle can be added to augment the power of love.

There is a foundation for a very important distinction in the analysis

of the principle of love. In what is thus far presented, we find that

the desire of good to another results solely from the fact that certain

mental qualities are _causes of pleasure to self_. Of course, this

desire ceases when those qualities cease to exist or cease to be

appreciated. This kind of love is the natural result of the constitution

of minds in their relations to each other, making it _easy and pleasant_

to live for the good of another in return for the pleasure received from

their agreeable qualities and manifestations.

But the highest kind of love consists in the _desire of good to another

without reference to any good received in return_. It is _good willing_.

It consists in an abiding feeling of desire for the happiness of another

mind.

This principle exists as a natural impulse more or less powerful in

differently constituted minds. It is the cause of that pleasure which is

felt in the consciousness of being the cause of good to another. But

this natural impulse can be so developed and increased by voluntary

culture as to become the strongest impulse of the mind, and thus the

source of the highest and most satisfying enjoyments. In many minds this

becomes so strongly developed that securing happiness to others is

sought with far more earnestness and pleasure than any modes of

enjoyment that terminate solely in self. This analysis lays the

foundation for the distinction expressed by the terms the _love of

complacency_ and the _love of benevolence_. The first is the involuntary

result of good conferred on _self_; the last is a voluntary act. It is

good willing toward others without reference to self.

The first can only exist where certain qualities are preserved and

appreciated in another mind. The second can result from voluntary

effort, and become the subject of law and penalties.

We can never be justly required to love another mind with the love of

complacency except when qualities are perceived that, by the

constitution of mind, necessarily call forth such regard. But the love

of benevolence can be justly demanded from every mind toward every being

capable of happiness.

Here it is important to discriminate more exactly in regard to the

principle of _benevolence_ and the principle of _rectitude_.

It is seen that the benevolence which is the subject of rewards and

penalties as a voluntary act consists in _good willing_--that is, in

choosing the happiness of _other_ minds as the object of interest and

pursuit.

But the principle of rectitude is more comprehensive in its nature. It

relates to obedience to _all_ the laws of the system of the

universe--those relating to ourselves as much as those relating to

others. It is true that, as obedience to these laws includes the

greatest possible amount of good with the least possible evil, both to

the individual and the commonwealth, the tendency of the two principles

is to the same result. But it may be the case that benevolence acts

contrary to the true rules of rectitude, and thus may mar rather than

promote happiness. A mind must not only choose to promote the greatest

possible happiness, but must choose _the right way_ of doing it.

A very important particular to be considered is, that, while in the

physical and mental constitution there is not a single arrangement the

direct object of which is to produce suffering, the susceptibilities to

pain seem designed to protect and preserve, while the greater the need

the more strong is this protection. For example, in regard to physical

organization, fire is an element that is indispensable to the life,

comfort, and activity of man, and it must be accessible at all times and

places. But all its service arises from its power to dissolve and

destroy the body itself, as well as all things around it. Therefore the

pain connected with contact with fire is more acute than almost any

other. Thus even the youngest child is taught that care and caution

needful to protect its body from injury or destruction.

Another fact in regard to the susceptibilities of pain is their frequent

_co-existence_ with the highest degrees of enjoyment. The experiences of

this life often present cases where the most elevated and ecstatic

happiness is combined with the keenest suffering, while such is the

nature of the case that the suffering is the chief cause of the

happiness thus secured. The highest illustration of this is in the

suffering of saints and martyrs, when they "rejoice to be counted worthy

to suffer shame," or when, amid torturing flames, they sing songs of

transport and praise.

Even in common life it is constantly found that a certain relative

amount of happiness is felt to be more than a recompense for a given

amount of pain. This relative amount may be such that the evil involved,

though great, may count as nothing. Where there is a passionate

attachment, for example, the lover exults in the labor and suffering

that will joyfully be received as a proof of affection and secure the

compensating return.

It is a very common fact that the existence of painful emotions _is

sought_, not for themselves, but as ministers to a kind of mental

excitement which is desired. This is the foundation of the pleasure

which is felt in tragic representations, and in poetry and novels that

present scenes of distress. The little child will again and again ask

for the tale of the Babes in the Wood, though each rehearsal brings

forth tears; and the mature matron or sage will spend hours over tales

that harrow the feelings or call forth sighs. This also is the

foundation of that kind of music called the _minor key_, in which

certain sounds bring emotions of sadness or sorrow.

Another striking fact in regard to the desire for pain is the emotions

that are felt by the most noble and benevolent minds at the sight of

cruelty and injustice. At such scenes, the desire for inflicting pain on

the guilty offender amounts to a passion which nothing can allay but

retributive justice. And the more benevolent the mind, the stronger this

desire for retributive evil to another.

Thus it appears that the mind is so made as to desire pain both for

itself and for others; not in itself considered, but as the

indispensable means to gain some consequent enjoyment.

The highest kinds of happiness result from painful emergencies. The

transports of love, gratitude, and delight, when some benefactor rescues

suffering thousands from danger and evil, could exist in no other way.

All the long train of virtues included in patient toil for the good of

others, in heroic daring, in brave adventure, in fortitude, in patience,

in resignation, in heavenly meekness, in noble magnanimity, in sublime

self-sacrifice, all involve the idea of trial, danger, and suffering. It

is only the highest and noblest class of minds that can fully understand

that the most blissful of all enjoyments are those which are bought with

pain.

But the most cheering feature in the constitution of mind is all that is

included in the principle of _habit_. We see in the commencement of

existence that every action of mind and body is imperfect, and more or

less difficult, while each effort to secure right action increases the

facility of so doing. We see that, owing to this principle, every act of

obedience to law makes such a course easier. The intellect, the

susceptibilities, the will, all come under this benign influence. Habit

may so diminish the difficulty of self-denial for our own good that the

pain entirely ceases; and self-sacrifice for the good of others may so

develop benevolence and generate a habit that it will become pleasure

without pain. There are those, even in this world, who have so attained

this capacity of living in the life of those around them that the

happiness of others becomes their own, and then there is even less pain

in self-denial for the good of others than for that of self. When this

habit of mind is attained, the happiness of the commonwealth becomes the

portion of the individual.

[3] Note B.

Common Sense Applied to Religion; Or, The Bible and the People · 第 22 / 33 章