CHAPTER XII.

THE REALITY OF HAPPINESS.

In order to determine whether our ideal scheme of happiness is fitted to become a reality, it is necessary, in the first place, to note the limits to which it appears to be subject from the very nature of the human mind itself. In sketching this scheme I have assumed that all men are fitted to derive pleasure from the same objects and pursuits, and that all persons having an equal degree of intelligence will, external circumstances being similar, lay the foundations of their happiness in the same terrain. Yet, it may be said that these assumptions are far from correct. As a matter of fact, different men do not find enjoyment in the same activities, but differ widely in their tastes and their notions of what constitutes happiness.

I am ready to admit that there is great diversity in men's judgments of pleasure and happiness. Our organisms are variously constituted, our natural and acquired emotional susceptibilities vary, and things which gratify one person may offend another. Yet this diversity of taste does not, I conceive, affect my contention that every wise man will seek his life-happiness in permanent objects and activities. All that the fact of diversity of taste proves is that men do not set precisely the same value on any given factor

DIFFERENT VIEWS OF HAPPINESS.

333

of life-happiness. In other words, this fact tells against a hasty dictation of any one form of happiness as uniformly applicable; it does not tell against the general truth that all wise men will make permanent sources of enjoyment the object of pursuit rather than single fleeting enjoyments. In point of fact, however, it is easy to exaggerate this diversity among human tastes. Men often fail to derive enjoyment from objects because the appropriate susceptibility has not been developed; it does not follow from this that the susceptibility is not latent and capable of being developed. As a matter of fact, too, men do agree very largely as to the best sources of happiness. Whatever the eccentricities of human sentiment may be, we rarely if ever hear of men denying the value of health, some amount of wealth, or friendship as a condition of a happy life.

But, it may be said, even if men do largely agree as to the direction of a wise endeavour after happiness, they are not, as a matter of fact, free, so to speak, to choose from among all conceivable paths. Long before they begin to frame any systematic view of the conditions of happiness many of the lines to be pursued have been laid down independently of their volitions. First of all, there is the inherited bent of mind which not only includes certain emotional tendencies but certain active dispositions as well. We remark in quite young children a definite inclination to a particular line of activity, say mimicry or mechanical contrivance. And it is not to be assumed that at this early stage the child takes up this or that particular employment because it consciously seeks the greatest pleasure it knows of, for there may be an inherited bent to act in this particular way quite apart from the special enjoyment which the activity brings. In this way the career of an artist, for example, may to some

extent be pre-determined independently of the individual's reflection and choice.

Still more plainly does this limitation of the individual's choice with respect to the form of his life-happiness meet us in the influence of early habits. When action has once continued to flow in certain channels there is begotten a new force which directly narrows the field of volition and choice. In the first years of thoughtless impulse the foundations of fixed habit may be laid, and in this case the will's subsequent selection of the conditions of happiness is plainly circumscribed. Such fixed lines of action may, of course, run parallel to later aims; on the other hand, they may diverge from these, and thus habit may prove a distinctly conflicting force in relation to volition.

Among the limits thus early imposed on a reflective pursuit of happiness, one class deserves to be specially mentioned. I refer to the effects of moral discipline. Through the employment of punishment as well as material rewards the child's action is artificially led, so to speak, into a path which otherwise it would not follow. In this way he will acquire the practice not only of limiting his own desires in obedience to the just claims of others, but also of pursuing virtuous and commendable lines of conduct. The force of habit now steps in and fixes action in these channels. And thus the youth who reaches the reflective stage, and begins to survey the unexplored field of life in order to choose his path, finds himself with definite emotional impulses as well as definite ingrained active habits which tie him down, so to speak, to a certain area of right and benevolent conduct.

This hasty glance at the effects of an early fixation of action in definite directions will suffice, I think, to show that, though they may tend to narrow the range of one's happi

INTERNAL LIMITATIONS OF CHOICE.

335

ness, they can hardly amount in most cases to a serious disturbing influence. There may, no doubt, be a strong inherited bent to injurious or vicious conduct, and an untended childhood is only too apt to develop the seeds of such fatal habits. Provided, however, the child is rightly watched and trained, the risks of a permanent loss of happiness are not very great. When the habits thus formed are not of this pernicious character, but simply spring from impulses which are capable of being developed into permanent life-actions, as in the case of the precocious artist or mechanician, they hardly affect happiness at all, since the early development of these actions pretty clearly points to the fact that the individual will realise one chief part of his happiness in this particular direction.

Finally, the effects of early moral discipline may to some extent that is, so far as they predispose us to self-denying effort interfere with the greatest amount of individual enjoyment. It is manifest, indeed, that so far as the youth has strongly marked sympathetic impulses-whether naturally or as the result of external influences-he will be exposed to frequent curtailments of his personal happiness. For though participation in others' pleasures is grateful, and though the pleasure of relieving another's want may in certain cases more than compensate for the momentary pain in witnessing this want, yet the harder and nobler exertions for the alleviation of others' sufferings cannot be supposed to bring their own adequate reward to the individual. The man would clearly be the gainer if he did not sympathise in these cases, or if his sympathy were of that feeble kind which is got rid of by a voluntary diversion of attention. from the painful object. But, unhappily for himself, the man of deep and powerful sympathies cannot thus repress

his better impulses, and so sympathy becomes a distinctly opposing force in relation to the processes of volition properly so called that is to say, the selection of the greatest amount of personal gratification.1

It is obvious, however, that in this case there is a clear gain to others, if not to the individual himself, so that the happiness of society as a whole is increased. And this consideration may suffice for our present purposes, since we are concerned not with the happiness of any particular person but of men and women generally.2

But though the limitation of the will by inherited or early acquired habits of feeling and action does not seriously endanger one's chances of happiness, it may perhaps be said that a real obstacle to the attainment of this end is presented in the fact of the determinate nature of volition itself. If all volition follows certain definite antecedents, then it would seem that happiness can only be realised where the conditions of willing it are present. This is perfectly true, but what does it amount to? Simply to this, that a man will not seek after a rational form of happiness till he is able to represent it to himself, and till he feels its desirability. Where knowledge and the emotional susceptibility which helps to determine this knowledge are wanting, there can, of course, be no aspiration towards a

This side of disinterested feeling has been well illustrated by Mr. Bain.

2 This pre-determination of action in certain lines by external circumstances appears less of an evil when we reflect that the situation of the person who has many paths from which he may choose, is attended with its characteristic drawback. We are all familiar with the fact that a person may easily have too rich a field of selection, that a many-sided nature may find itself determined to a state of equilibrium and inaction rather than of action through the rapid alternating play of its various impulses. The direction of the stream of action into a definite channel