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 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 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 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 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. 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 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 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 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. 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 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.