The development of character : a practical creed

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

Outline 5

I Happiness the Goal of Life 9

Chapter II Health The Source Of The Greatest Physical Happiness

In seeking the means of attaining happiness it is important to note that the agreeable states of consciousness which we seek may be divided into two classes; those which arise from physical causes, and those which arise from mental causes. The former affect us through the body and may be briefly although inaccurately called physical pleasures, while the latter owe their origin to the various processes of the mind and may, for the sake of brevity, be termed mental or spiritual pleasures.

As the physical pleasures are the simpler, we shall consider them first. A candid mind will require no elaborate proof of the general law, that pleasure attends all such activities and conditions of the human body, in its normal state, as are conducive to the maintenance of life; while pain accompanies all activities and conditions destructive of life. So perfect is this adjustment of pleasure and pain to wholesome and harmful environment, that a certain degree of heat, for instance, is agreeable and at the same time beneficial, while a greater degree is increasingly painful as the temperature rises, until at a point where the tissues of the body are destroyed the pain is excruciating. On the other hand, a reduction of the temperature below the point which is agreeable and beneficial is also attended with pain, which increases with the cold to the point where ears, nose and fingers are in danger of freezing, and at this point the pain becomes intense.

A similar adjustment of pleasure to life-preserving actions is seen in the enjoyment of eating, while hunger is painful ; in the pleasure of drinking and the pain of thirst; in the pleasure of moderate and beneficial exercise and the pain of excessive and harmful toil; in the agreeable sensation of refreshing rest after labor; in the disagreeable feeling caused by a long absence of sleep, the natural method of restoring the bodily tissues. In short, it is a general law, that whatever is conducive to perfect health is pleasurable, and whatever is harmful to health is painful.

And we may go a step further even than this. Perfect health itself is accompanied not only by an entire absence of pain, but also by a certain diffused pleasure which we sometimes call high spirits, and which gives zest and pleasure to all our activities. There is a surplus of pleasure over pain in the mind of a healthy man, which makes life worth living, and which may be simply called the joy of life. We therefore arrive at the conclusion, that all conduct which makes for perfect health should be followed, and the contrary avoided ; or, to put it briefly, health is the source of the greatest physical pleasure.

Hence the preservation of health is a duty, and the various traits of character which enable us to preserve health may be called the physical virtues. They may be briefly summed up under the heads of providence and physical culture. By providence is here meant the conservative state of mind which enables its possessor to guard as much as possible against whatever contingencies may naturally be expected, so as to be always provided with the necessities of life. It therefore includes habits of industry, economy and thrift, and (in the present state of civilization) an attempt to save at least a modest competence for old age. It is opposed to expensive habits and luxury. The standard of a prudent man's life should be as simple and inexpensive as is consistent with a perfect development of the highest type of health and of intellectual and moral life. If we lose sight of this qualification, our prudence will degenerate into austerity or ascetism, and, by injuring health, will defeat the very object for which we strive.

By physical culture is meant the shaping of our lives, as much as is consistent with higher duties (which will be discussed later), into such regular periods of activity and rest, of wakefulness and sleep, of work and recreation, as shall be most conducive to the preservation of perfect vigor and health and the warding off of sickness and death. No single rule can be laid down, in the present complex ^tate of civilization, by which all men can fulfill this duty. It can only be said in general, that those whom the necessity of earning a livelihood compels to forego active physical exertion should, as much as possible, seek to supply this necessity; and those who are compelled to work indoors should seek to obtain the maximum amount of fresh air and outdoor life. Those who lead an active outdoor life from day to day, such as the farmer, the builder, etc., naturally need little further in the way of physical culture. The only general rules that can be laid down for the discharge of this duty are, that every man should seek to obtain ample vigorous exercise, followed by a sufficient period of rest; that he should keep regular and sufficient hours of sleep ; that he should be cleanly and eat wholesome food, have plenty of fresh air, and sufficient shelter and clothing. To go further into details would be to enter the province of hygiene, while this work is intended to be ethical, and the object is simply, to insist upon the preservation of health as a duty ; and to emphasize the fact that at the bottom of all physical happiness is a perfect physique.

There are certain habits that every man who seeks to maintain his health should avoid. Foremost among them in the case of modern Europe and America is .the habit of drinking intoxicating liquors to excess. It requires no argument to a candid mind to prove that habitual drunkenness ruins health, if it does nothing worse. Why, then, are there drunkards in every city ? It is almost a truism to say that no young man in taking his first drink of intoxicating liquor ever intended to become a drunkard. The habit has grown by degrees, until it has become a chain that he cannot break. I do not intend to discuss the medical question, as to whether a moderate amount of spirituous liquor is physically harmful. I am aware that many physicians (some of whom drink themselves) say it is not. What I do say, without fear of contradiction by medical authorities, is, that the absence of alcoholic liquor is not harmful to a person in perfect physical health. And I say further, without fear of contradiction by any candid man, that the habit of drinking is mentally beclouding and expensive, and is apt to lead to drunkenness. No more need be said to a man who knows how to reason.

The above remarks apply with equal force to the opium habit, which is the counterpart of the drink habit in Oriental countries.

The third of the principal habits which are injurious to health is immorality; but, as the discussion of this would require a previous understanding of social relations, it will be considered later.

Chapter III Sympathy The Source Of Greater Happiness Than Health

If each human being were completely isolated from every other intelligent being, the foregoing chapters would constitute the whole duty of ,man. The perfection and the preservation of his physical health would be his supreme object, and the development of the physical virtues mentioned would be the highest development of character.

As soon, however, as man is brought into contact with his fellow-men, an entirely new principle of human nature manifests itself. He finds that his mind reflects in some degree the happiness or misery of all other minds; that, when he perceives an intense joy or an intense grief in another, he feels within himself a similar joy or grief of more or less intensity. This primary faculty of the human mind is called sympathy. It is the power to picture to ourselves the state of another mind, and to feel to a certain degree the pleasure or pain attending that state of mind. Sympathy may be compared to the reflected images of objects upon a bright surface; or to the secondary tones produced upon a piano when a note is sounded strongly, causing the strings whose vibrations synchronize with the note sounded to respond. The capacity for sympathy differs widely in different races and individuals, but even among the very lowest savages it is not wholly absent. That sympathy is really an elementary faculty of the mind, is evident from the fact that it manifests itself in infancy, before any derivative ideas or secondary functions can possibly have been imbibed. The babe in arms reflects the glee of the babe in arms, and the little child sometimes feels a more perfect sympathy with another's sorrow than even some mature minds would feel.

I have said that the capacity for sympathy varies in different minds. By certain courses of conduct and education the faculty may be greatly developed, and a character formed that is highly sympathetic; and by certain other courses of conduct and education sympathy may be greatly dulled, and a character formed that is to a large extent callous and indifferent to the joys or sorrows of others. Furthermore, it is impossible for a highly sympathetic person to share the happiness of another mind, without sharing its sorrows as well, for the reason that sympathy responds to the state of mind that it finds in the mind with which it sympathizes. For the same reason it is impossible to deaden sympathy with the sorrows of another mind, without at the same time forfeiting all share in its happiness.

The question therefore arises: Is sympathy desirable? Shall we repress or cultivate our sympathy with our fellow-men? The answer to this question is of supreme importance in the development of character. It divides mankind into two classes : the selfish and the unselfish. If it is true that happiness is the legitimate goal of human effort, this question resolves itself into the following: will the cultivation of sympathy bring to the mind more happiness than misery ? And as it is shown above, that sympathy is a reflection of the joys and sorrows of our fellow-men, the second question resolves itself into a third : Is there an excess of joy over sorrow in the world, or is the balance the other way? If joy preponderates, then the cultivation of sympathy is desirable, because it will increase the happiness of its possessor.

An absolute demonstration, that joy does outweigh sorrow in the world, is found in the continued existence of the human race. While one person seeks to end life, millions cling to it. And were the ills of life that we can remedy removed, there would be even a smaller percentage of suicides. It has been shown that the normal state of health is accompanied by a diffused mental joy, which we call high spirits; in other words, we are so constituted that, in the normal state of health, each mind affords a source of sympathetic pleasure to every other mind. Therefore the normal man seeks the society of his fellow-men and is a social creature.

The last remark leads to the consideration of another argument for the desirability of sympathy which amounts to a mathematical demonstration. If each normal mind is a source of sympathetic pleasure to the person coming into sympathy with it, and if the sympathetic pleasures approach nearer and nearer in intensity (as sympathy grows more perfect) to the pleasures directly enjoyed, it is a simple problem in multiplication, that the joys of the sympathetic mind will be multiplied by the number of other normal minds with which it sympathizes. And even if it is granted that the joys of sympathy cannot rise to the intensity of pleasures directly enjoyed, it still remains true that the sympathetic mind, having an unlimited number of other minds from which to receive pleasure, must be incomparably happier than the callous mind, which is dead to all pleasures except the very limited amount which it can directly receive from physical health.

It follows, therefore, that the development of sympathy is of greater importance for the attainment of happiness than physical culture, important as that is; and that it should be our constant endeavor to broaden and perfect our sympathy with all of our fellow-men. And how shall this be done? If the definition of sympathy above given, as a representation of the state of another's mind in our own minds, be correct, it is evident that the best means of cultivating sympathy is to make ourselves acquainted with the condition of our fellow-men by actual contact with their minds, by personal observation of their lives, by democratic fellowship and co-operation with them. When this method of cultivating our sympathies is not possible, owing to the intervening distance, the difference of language, lack of time, or for other reasons, we ought to acquaint ourselves with their circumstances through the public prints, through accounts of travelers, accounts of philanthropic efforts made throughout the world, and by a broad acquaintance with history, with intimate biography, and with the literature which exerts the largest influence in the various nations of the world.

Fully as important as the effort to develop sympathy is the avoidance of certain traits of character that tend to estrange us from 01 ir fellow-men and to deaden our sympathy with them. Foremost among these traits is the class distinction which in the man of physique takes the form of arrogance; in the man of learning, the form of pedantry ; in the man of religion, the form of bigotry; in the man of wealth, the form of exclusiveness. Still more productive of callousness and fatal to sympathy are the extortion, the oppression, the tryranny of power political or industrial, and the open theft and robbery of violence or pillage.

Chapter IV Kindness A Corollary To Sympathy

It has been shown that the faculty of sympathy reflects alike the pleasures and the pains of other minds, and it has been proven in the preceding chapter that sympathy is capable of affording an incomparably higher degree of happiness than the pleasure attending physical health and physical functions. It follows, therefore, that it is of the utmost importance for our happiness that the pains of our fellowmen be diminished and removed, and that their pleasures be increased and secured. Every mind made happier within our ken increases the reflected happiness in our own minds, and every grief removed diminishes the painful sympathies of our own minds. Hence the seeming paradox, that the way to be happy ourselves is to make our fellow-men happy, as far as our influence, wealth and power can do so. Kindness is a mathematical corollary to sympathy.

If the view of human nature set forth in this work be true, it is the utmost folly in the presence of pain or sorrow to turn away our eyes, to deaden our sympathies, to build a wall about our little exclusive circle and steel our hearts against the mass of mankind. By doing so we indeed shut out a certain amount of painful sympathy, but we also destroy the capacity of sympathizing with the happiness of our fellow-men, and therefore deprive ourselves of a far greater amount of pleasurable sympathy. This is true even on the supposition that we do nothing ourselves to alleviate the pains or increase the joys of those about us. But if we are constantly on the alert to remove every grief that we can remedy, wherever and whenever it comes to notice, and to impart every benefit and aid that is in our power at all times, the joys of sympathy will be multiplied to an extent of which a selfish or callous mind cannot conceive.

In another manner also active beneficence increases the happiness of the kind person. Not only does he have a greater proportion of happy minds with which to sympathize, but by his kindness he is brought into closer acquaintance with the condition of his fellowmen, and is thus enabled to sympathize far more perfectly and fully with them than the man who cares nothing for his fellows except as so many units in his calculations.

And, furthermore, benefits received naturally and almost inevitably awaken a feeling of good- will toward the bestower in the recipient, who wishes to preserve and protect the source of his blessings. Hence the kind person has a feeling of security in dealing with his fellow-men added to the happiness of sympathy, which greatly heightens it, and which makes his memory a constant source of joy.

If the supreme importance of kindness in the pursuit of happiness has now been established, the next step is naturally the cultivation and development of this trait of character. And the first thing that is necessary, if we would effectually help others, is to help ourselves. We cannot impart what we do not possess. Personal efficiency is therefore the best foundation for the successful service of our fellowmen, and the ambition to excel in any honorable physical or mental occupation is laudable. For the same reason industry and thrift are good ; for they not only diminish the chances that their possessor will require aid from his fellow-men, but they place him in a position to show practical kindness to the sick, the unfortunate and the erring.

After we have acquired the ability to aid, the second requisite is to acquaint ourselves with the needs of our fellow-men, to form the habit of always considering not only our own welfare but also the welfare of our neighbor, knowing that our happiness depends upon his well-being as well as upon our own, and that, as our sympathies and our intelligence develop, the reflected or sympathetic happiness approaches in intensity more and more nearly the pleasure of direct enjoyment. He who forms this habit of constant considerateness toward every human being with whom he is daily brought into contact, will be ready to embrace the opportunity to do a kindness when it offers and will thus form the habit of kindness as a permanent trait of his character.

It is well to note here that honesty is implied in kindness and may be called negative kindness. Honesty gives what is justly due; kindness gives more than is due. A man may be honest without being kind, but he cannot be kind without first being honest. Honesty is the foundation upon which kindness as a superstructure is erected; and while the foundation may exist without the superstructure, the latter cannot exist without the foundation. Therefore, he who would cultivate kindness of character must first be absolutely honest.

It must also be clearly understood, that only such service to our fellow-men as really tends to increase their happiness can be truly called kindness, and all encouragement of idleness, dissipation, crime or vice, far from increasing the happiness of either the object or the subject, has precisely the opposite effect upon both, upon the one directly and upon the other sympathetically.

Chapter V Sacrifice A Second Corollary To Sympathy

In the present imperfect state of mankind the development of sympathy and the practice of kindness frequently demand sacrifice. In order to confer a benefit upon our fellow-man, we find it necessary to forego a certain enjoyment ourselves; or, conversely stated, in order to relieve another from pain, we find that we must undergo a certain amount of pain ourselves. To divide one's possessions with the poor and unfortunate involves the sacrifice of some of the pleasures which those possessions would have purchased. To nurse the sick or to rescue those in danger involves the pain of fatigue or the risk, perhaps the certainty, of contagion or injury.

It is well to note, before going further, that as mankind progress in intelligence and moral character, and as each individual therefore becomes more and more able to take care of himself, the need of sacrifice diminishes, and the painful sympathies are called into play less, while the pleasurable sympathies become more and more frequent. That kindness, universally practiced, would greatly hasten this amelioration of the condition of mankind, is too plain to require proof ; but, until kindness shall be universally practiced, the need of sacrifice will remain.

The question therefore arises, Shall we carry our kindness to the extent of sacrifice, or shall we limit it to conferring such benefits and relieving such pains as involve no sacrifice on our part? The correct answer to this question is of the greatest importance in the development of character and the pursuit of happiness. If we limit our kindness to such acts as cost us no sacrifice, closing our eyes and deadening our sympathies when sacrifice is required, sympathy can be developed only to a very low degree, and therefore the happiness which this faculty is capable of producing, and which has been shown above to be by far the greatest happiness of which the mind is capable, cannot be attained.

But, it will be said, sacrifice is confessedly painful, and if happiness is legitimately the goal of human action, what motive can there be to sacrifice? While it is true that sacrifice involves a direct loss of pleasure or an endurance of pain, this is more than offset by the greater sympathetic pleasure which is gained by it; provided, first, that the faculty of sympathy has been cultivated to reflect vividly enough the happiness which our act of sacrifice confers on our neighbor; and provided, secondly, that the good conferred by the sacrifice is greater than the good sacrificed. Sacrifice is therefore the best course possible under the circumstances, because it produces more happiness than misery.

In regard to the first of these conditions it has been shown above, that not only is beneficence prompted by sympathy, but the exercise of kindness itself develops the power of sympathizing more and more perfectly with our fellow-men, thus deriving ever greater happiness from their well-being; and sacrifice is even more potent in this respect than kindness which costs us nothing, for the reason that the recipient is naturally more deeply impressed with and convinced of our good-will, and has a stronger affection and a closer attraction toward us kindled within him. As a result our minds come into closer mutual touch, into more perfect mutual understanding, into more perfect mutual sympathy.

The second condition mentioned above deserves the most careful consideration, because it not only furnishes the proper motive to sacrifice, but at the same time it indicates the limit to which sacrifice should be carried. A sacrifice is productive of increased happiness to us only when the benefit conferred is greater than the loss of direct pleasure which it occasions. This is evident even upon the supposition that our faculty of sympathy has reached such perfection that the pleasures of our fellow-man are reproduced in our minds with the same intensity with which they are felt by him. If the pain endured through our sacrifice is greater than the pleasure conferred, it is impossible that our happiness should be increased by it; because the pleasures of sympathy may fall short in intensity of the pleasures directly enjoyed which they reflect, but never can exceed them in intensity. To give a concrete illustration of this abstract principle, suppose that the rescue of a friend's hat from the wheels of a passing wagon demands the loss of an arm; or that the rescue of a man's possessions from his burning home can be effected only at the cost of a fireman's life ; or that a profligate son's expenditures can be met only by his father's sacrifice of honesty; in these instances the good conferred is less than the sacrifice demanded, and there is therefore no reason why the sacrifice should be made.

Thus we perceive that the limit to which sacrifice should be carried is that point at which the benefits sacrificed equal or exceed the benefits conferred; or, stating the same thing negatively, the point where the pain endured equals or exceeds the pain relieved. This rule presupposes a perfect faculty of sympathy, by which we would feel the joys or sorrows of others with precisely the intensity with which similar joys or sorrows directly affecting us would be felt. It is the ideal, the ultimate rule of conduct for perfect natures; just as the propositions of geometry are laid down and demonstrated regarding theoretically perfect lines, angles and curves, and can be stated and demonstrated regarding nothing else. Until human sympathy approximates this perfect development, sacrifices, even though conferring greater benefits than those sacrificed, will at times result in a diminution of the giver's happiness ; but, as has been shown above, kindness and sacrifice are themselves the most potent forces in the development of sympathy; and therefore the proper course to pursue is to aim at the conduct which would be prompted by perfect sympathy, as this will by a natural process of development gradually harmonize our sympathies with the highest type of beneficence.

While the application of the rule here set down regarding the limit to which sacrifice should be carried must be largely left to each individual, a few general remarks on the subject may be helpful. It is obvious that, while a part of mankind lacks the necessities of life and the blessings of civilization, we should be willing to sacrifice luxuries in their behalf. In other words, we should form as simple habits of life as are consistent with personal efficiency ; we should seek inexpensive recreations and cultivate modest tastes; above all, we should cultivate that humility of mind which is content with the things which are really necessary to maintain perfect physical health. Not only does a simple life leave us larger means with which to relieve the distress of the sick, the unfortunate and the erring, but it greatly diminishes the chances that we ourselves shall ever be found in any of these classes, and thus tends directly to reduce the amount of sacrifice required in the world.

Before closing this chapter it is necessary to touch upon the supreme sacrifice, that of life itself. According to the rule above set forth, if the sacrifice of one man's life is demanded to save the lives of several or many others, it should be made, because the good conferred is greater than the good sacrificed. But how can he who sacrifices life itself enjoy through sympathy the happiness which his act produces? The answer to this question is momentous : it brings us to the parting of the ways. If life is continuous and eternal, and death is but the gateway to a higher form of life, there is no occasion to modify or make any exception to the general law of sacrifice laid down. But if death is annihilation, there can be no motive for the sacrifice of life; and", carrying this exception to its logical conclusion, there can be no motive for the sacrifice of any part of life; that is, for any sacrifice that would in any way impair our health or endanger our means of subsistence. In other words, there can be no motive for any sacrifice that is really a sacrifice; and there must therefore be an irreconcilable and never-ending clash between our feelings of sympathy and the moral law as thus determined ; and if our happiness is absolutely dependent on the perfection of our sympathies and the well-being of our fellow-men, the highest degree of happiness must be (at least for the present generation and for many future generations) unattainable.

This is not the logical place to discuss the question of a future life: the only object in touching upon it in this chapter is, to show the profound effect upon character and upon our attitude toward our fellowmen which our position on the question must inevitably produce. The subject will be considered later.

Chapter VI Love

The Most Perfect Form of Mutual Sympathy and

Therefore the Source of the Greatest

Possible Happiness

The definition of love as the most perfect form of mutual sympathy is crude and approximate only, like the geometrical definition of a circle as a polyhedron with an infinite number of sides. The exact nature of that attraction between minds which we call love is as mysterious as the attraction between bodies which we call gravitation. We know the one, as we know the other, by feeling it ; and we cannot form any better conception of love (if we have never felt it) from the approximate definition here given of it, than we could form of a circle (if we had never seen one) from the geometrical definition of it. .

A clearer conception of this affection can perhaps be obtained by observing the growth of love in the human mind. And the first thing to be noted is, that love arises in one mind toward another only after a perception of some amiable quality in the object; that is, some evidence, direct or inferable, of good-will in the object of our love. The cultivation of sympathy not only makes us more alert in the perception of lovable traits of character in others, but the active exercise of kindness and sacrifice awakens that very good-will in them which is the basis of love. The mutual perception of good-will, that is, of a mutual disposition to confer benefits, results naturally in attraction toward the source of such benefits, in companionship, in closer mutual attention to one another's welfare and in fuller opportunities for preserving it; and these gradually increase our ability to sympathize more and more nearly perfectly with one another, and as a natural result constantly increase our good-will for each other, inasmuch as we perceive that our happiness is the more completely identified with that of our fellow-men the more perfectly we sympathize with them. Sympathy and good-will are thus the two elements entering into love. Either may exist separately in the mind without love, and neither separately, nor both together are actually love; but they seem to unite in the mind to form that new affection; as the elements of hydrogen and oxygen are neither one water, nor are both together water, but they unite chemically in certain proportions to form the new substance.