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,
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 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 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 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.”
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 experience 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 higher
happiness of others around.
In reference to this, we find those susceptibilities which raise man to
the dignity of a rational and 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 excruciating 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_.(5) Here we find the mind formed not only to secure
multitudinous enjoyment 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 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_ serves to protect from danger
till caution and habit reader 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 certain traits of character in
another mind. 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.
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 element of love consists in the _desire and purpose of
good to another without reference to any good received in return_. It is
_good willing_.
The desire of good to others 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 _impulsive benevolence_ and _voluntary benevolence_, or 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 perceived 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 well as our own 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 benevolence may be exercised without any regard to the rules of right
and wrong. Instead of striving to make the _most possible_ happiness with
the least possible evil, as our Maker’s great design demands, a course may
be taken that makes some happiness to some minds at the expense of vast
suffering and wrong to others. No mind acts right, even in willing
happiness to others, when it is done in disregard of those laws which
demand that we should make happiness the right way, that is, the way which
is _best for all_.
In the physical and mental constitution of man 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 the 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 will secure the compensating return.
It is a very common fact that painful emotions _are 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 and 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, so that 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 by all, the happiness of the commonwealth will become
the portion of each individual, and thus be multiplied to an inconceivable
extent.