Hugh Black - Happiness 1868

8/2/2019 Hugh Black - Happiness 1868

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THE WORKS OFHUGH BLACKTHE FRIENDSHIP SERIES

FriendshipWorkComfortHappiness

Culture and RestraintListening to GodChrist's Service of LoveThe Gift of Influence


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HAPPINESSBYHUGH BLACK

CHICAGO -NEWYORK TORONTOFLEMING H.REVELL COMPANYLONDON EDINBURGH

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Copyright, 1911Bt Fleiunq H. Revelx, Company.

New York: 158 Fifth AvenueChicago: 80 Wabash AvenueToronto: 25 Richmond St., W.London: 21 Paternoster SquareEdinburgh: 100 Princes Street

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TOSir WILLIAM ROBERTSON NICOLLMy Dear Nicoll:

I sometimes feel as if I owed you a grudge thatyou made me write books, but it has been a comfortthat therefore you have shared the responsibility.You are even responsible for the kind of book ; forI remember that years ago in your study in London,when I outlined to you an ambitious and learnedpiece of work I meant to do, you said that plentyof men were writing serious books for the few andhardly any writing for the many. You begged meto give up my scheme. I do not know if it is ajustification, but each volume of the FriendshipSeries in which this book appears has receiveda welcome from a larger public than even youanticipated.As you know, it is a temptation to a professor to

write a book of learned appearance, with scholastic5

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words and large foot-notes. I have tried to resistthat temptation, and in this case it has meantwriting a book on Happiness without once usingwords like Hedonism and Utilitarianism. AsTraddles says in David Copperfield, it has been a" pull ".

I have longed to write a book worthy to dedicateto you, and in despair I choose this one. At anyrate I feel that it is appropriate to associate yourname with this subject, as no one has written morewisely than you on the art of living, which is the artof happiness. Also, one of the elements of happi-ness to me is that, though separated farther than inthe old days, you permit me to call myself yourfriend. HUGH BLACK.New York Citx"


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The Right to Happiness II

The Duty of Happiness ... 29IIIThe Soukces of Happiness . . 55

IVThe Secret of Happiness . . 85

VThe Art of Happiness . . . Ill

VIThe Grades of Happiness . . 14S

VIIThe Shadow on Happiness . . 175

VIIIThe Foes of Happiness . . . 203

IXThe Heart of Happiness . . . 229


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If a man is unhappy, this must be his ownfault; for God made all men to be happy.

Epictetus.


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THINGS have come to such apass, both in the theory and prac-tice of life, that it is almost bolddoctrine to declare that men possess theright to happiness. For one thing, menare not so sure about inalienable rightsas they have sometimes been. There isa famous sentence in the Declaration ofIndependence of The United States ofAmerica, " We hold these truths to beself-evident, that all men are createdequal; that they are endowed by theirCreator with certain inalienable rights ;that among these are life, liberty, andthe pursuit of happiness.''^ The eight-eenth century was inclined to make agospel of what it called the rights ofman, and assumed that nature endowedmen with certain abstract rights. It

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'Kc ^i0hi towas a great gospel, and led to somegreat results. But it is more accurateto say that nature endows man with de-sires and capacities. Rights are thecreation of society, of law. A man mayhave a desire to be happy in a particu-lar way, but if society thinks that thisway is wrong it will not grant him theright. Yet the assertion of inherentclaim to certain things, often denied insome forms of government, has blazeda path of progress. Freedom of speech,liberty of religion, security of personunder the common law, whether we callthem abstract rights or not, have justi-fied themselves in fact. The only pointworth making in the criticism of in-alienable rights is that they are notmysterious gifts from nature, and socannot be assumed without proof thatthey will minister to the general socialwelfare.Edmund Burke's criticism on this

point puts the emphasis where it ought4


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^appmc^^to be put " This sort of people areso taken up with their theories about therights of man that they have totally for-gotten his nature." It is idle to speakof man's right to anything, if it be con-trary to fundamental facts rooted in hisnature. He may possess the right tolive till the age of the patriarchs, but thequestion is, Can he? So in this subjectof happiness it is more important toknow what man's nature calls for, thanwhat we think is his due. There havebeen many wordy battles among philos-ophers as to whether happiness couldbe accepted as an adequate end of life.Aristotle said, " Since all knowledge andall purpose aim at some good, what isthe highest of all realisable goods? Asto its name I suppose nearly all men areagreed ; for the masses and the men ofculture alike declare that it is happi-ness." Men of culture have by no meansbeen agreed to accept this definition, andindeed for centuries philosophy has di-

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^hc ^isKi fovided itself into two hostile camps onthis very point.The purpose of this book is not to

discuss the rival philosophieswhich have

divided the world. One of these assertsthat the end of human life can be summedup in the desire for happiness. It mayappear in a refined or in a gross form,but in any case the one powerful motiveof ethics is what will make for the wel-fare of the individual. We are toldthat if we analyse carefully we will dis-cover that somewhere lies pleasure asthe motive of an act. Pleasure is theindex of the normal healthy conscious-ness, as pain is the index of the abnor-mal ; and life cannot help choosing alongthe line of pleasure. The principle ofchoice is often obscured, but in one formor other it is always the same. Sopho-cles in Antigone makes a messenger whobrings bad news moralise: "When aman hath forfeited his pleasures, I count

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him not as living I hold him but abreathing corpse. Heap up riches inthy house if thou wilt ; live in kinglystate ; yet if there be no gladness there-in, I would not give the shadow of avapour for all the rest, compared withjoy-"On the other side stand all the ideal-ists of the world, asserting that there issomething higher than happiness. Inthe intellectual sphere they enthroneTruth, which its lovers are to follow atany cost.

Last, if upon the cold green mantling seaThou cling, along with Truth, to the last sparBoth castawayAnd one must perish let it not be heWhom thou art sworn to obey.In the moral sphere they point toRighteousness and speak of a moralimperative, a commanding voice ofconscience summoning the high soul toduty, though every pleasure die. In thesocial sphere they raise aloft Justice,

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'Ke 9Jli0ht foAvhich a man must do even if the heavensfall. Wrong does not cease to be wrongthough it be on a throne, and right re-mains right even on a scaffold. In thespiritual sphere there is a vision of per-fection, a Kingdom of ends, a land ofideals, and " lovers of pleasure " seem ina lower scale of being than " lovers ofGod." The standard of all ethics iswithin the soul, and a man at his bestis deaf to all other voices.

So deep has this line of cleavage runthrough human thought, so persistenthas been the rivalry of these two theo-ries, that we are compelled to admit thateach has emphasised facts of life. Theworld is so built that man must ask whatwill advance and secure his welfare. Hehimself is so constructed that he cannotavoid doing what makes for his happi-ness. Yet again, every man has knownhis godlike hours, when no hope of gainor dread of loss, no consideration ofexpediency could be credited as the mo-

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^appine^^stive of a great act, or a generous pas-sion, or a true sacrifice. After all, thereis no necessity to try to sum up life ina single sentence, or to put the end oflife into a single term. Philosophysooner or later has to get down to facts.Certainly one of the facts is that thedesire for happiness is too deep-seatedto be argued away by logic. The yearn-ing for happiness is one of nature, andmay be thwarted, but can never be killedwhile life lasts. It needs to be directed,not to be stifled. It is nature's call tolarger growth, and has been the dynamicof evolution. Sentient life has beenled upward by trusting to the plainteaching of sensation, seeking pleasureand avoiding pain.No single mood should be looked onas the final and complete answer to themeaning of life. It may be that thisanswer of happiness is after all only asingle mood. It is probably only a par-tial ideal and is the voice of youth assert-

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'he H^iqU iaing the truth of its vivid experience,rejoicing in the beauty of the world andthe joy of hfe. Even so, this mood hasits rights, all the more because it is thefresh temper of youth, surely as likelyto be true as the blase philosophy ofjaded men. The counsel of Ecclesiastes," Walk in the ways of thine heart andin the sight of thine eyes," cannot ofcourse be adopted as the rule of life, but 1 1 ^ /iit expresses the instinctive faith of youththat life is a great gift and that theworld is good. It undertakes with cour-age and hope the adventure of life, asthe countless objects of the world pressin through open doors of sense andmind, fascinated by the thought of whatunknown delights await in far-off yearsand places. There is a sense also inwhich youth is not so blind and heedlessas we often imagine. It knows instinct-ively that this vivid experience does not,and will not, last. The very brevitygives a zest to the new joy. There is

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^appmcsisa pathos in the eager grasp of youthafter ever richer experience, but that isonly felt by those who know that nopermanent satisfaction comes that way.All forms of philosophy, which havemade happiness the end of life, have comesadly to the conclusion that it can onlybe attained through temperance andmoderation and self-control.

This question of happiness is funda-mental, and is in many forms intenselymodern. To many the great problem ofthe education of the young is the prob-lem of their play ; and the great prob-lem of city life is that of the amusementof the people. To-day also with thequickening of the social sense there aremany who are haunted by the feelingthat they have no right to be happy,even when they have the sources of hap-piness at their command, so long as thereis so much evident misery on all sides.More than ever we realise that no man

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^he IJiishi laliveth to himself, and we know more ofour social debt for even our commonestblessings. Every gift we possess hascome to us through society, and on thataccount there is a keener sense of obli-gation. Then, the more developed thefiner feelings are, the more the doubtarises whether we have any right to per-sonal joy when hfe to so many is joy-less. The true way out of this troubleis to extend the right into a duty. Truedemocracy means that a man is willing togrant to others all that he claims forhimself. He refuses to draw circles ofexclusion. This is not so simple as itappears, and will lead to far results inlegislation and in economic conditions.It is no less than the assertion of the |j j/ 'right of others to happiness.

In this connection it may be said thatthe universe is too often viewed from thepoint of view of the sentimental specta-tor who gathers up in imagination allthe pain of the world into a heap. He

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^ajypmc^siviews it in the mass, and sometimes triesto deal with the whole subject as a ques-tion of statistics. He tries to calculatewhether pleasure is in excess over pain.Apart from the fact that arithmetic doesnot apply in such a subject, there is usu-ally a wrong perspective, as the dailynewspapers give a wrong perspective byfilling up columns of disaster. With amurder, and two acts of violence, andthree reports of burglary, and so manycases of petty theft, and the beginningof a scandal in high life, we forget theunrecorded millions of good and gentledeeds. Beauty is everywhere, and lifeon the whole is a great blessing, and isfull of joy, simple, natural, healthy joy.The fact that men are willing to go onliving is proof that they receive on thewhole sufficient satisfaction from life.Whether life is worth living can neverbe settled by adding up the sum ofpleasures and pains and striking a hsil-ance. Many will assent to the argument

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'he aaight la

in John Davidson's poem in " FleetStreet Eclogues,"

I think that I am still in Nature's debt,Scorned, disappointed, starving, bankrupt, old.Because I loved a lady in my youth.And was beloved in sooth.There are many teachers who assert

positions, which logically lead to pessi-mism. Some declare that happiness isa will-of-the-wisp ever deluding the eagergrasp, and it is better not to attemptthe impossible. Others see life lived un-der a leaden sky and on a sodden earth.They agree that to some, and undersome conditions, happiness of a kindwould be possible, but it is so rare achance that it is not worth counting onourselves becoming the fortunate ex-ceptions. There is not enough happi-ness to go round. Others assert thatthe sure way to lose happiness is to seekit. If you aim at it at all, it must beindirectly. You may have it at theback of your mind, but you must not

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ibapplTTC^^Shave your eye on it. Still another ob-jection to the pursuit of happiness isthat it is selfish. Yet everybody wouldadmit that a world of happy human be-ings is an ideal worth while. How is thiseven to begin to be possible, if nobody isever to try to be happy himself,''

All these objections are really due toconfusion of terms. To denounce happi-ness as selfish, for example, is because itis defined merely in terms of pleasure,and pleasure is defined merely in termsof sense. It is true that pleasure is builton sense and that happiness is built onpleasure, as the acorn is rooted in thesoil and the oak grows from the acorn.But you cannot explain the oak by call-ing attention to the process, still less isthe oak degraded by the connection ; andhappiness is neither explained nor de-graded because of its natural historybeing traced back to sense. If we hadno feeling of satisfaction there could beno reason for calling anything good.

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One condition would be as significant asanother. All the values we give to thingshave their roots in sensibility. Even theworth of things of intellect lies in thespecial satisfaction these afford. Manyfrown on the idea of happiness becausein their minds it is associated with pleas-ure, and pleasure has to them a lowsound. It stands for the ruthless grati-fication of selfish impulses. This is theeasy method of giving a dog a badname and then hanging him.The quarrel, as often happens, is

largely one about words. We aretempted to waste on philosophy whatmight be given to mankind. Life is morethan meat, and it is also . more thantheory. It may be obvious that thisworld has not been made merely for theease and happiness of men, and obviousthat we are not made to inhabit anearthly paradise, but the human heartcan never cease to long for satisfactionof desire. This primal need has been the

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ibappine;55idriving power to transform society andto improve the conditions of life. Evenwhen men miss happiness as an experi-ence, they feel they were made for it.The capacity for joy, which is theirnatural human instinct, demands frui-tion. To ask them to abandon the questfor happiness and to acknowledge it aphantom would be to make a mock oflife.

When we ask if we have the right tobe happy, the true answer is got by ask-ing another question, whether the factsof our nature permit it. We have theright to be what we can be. The troublewith the theory that makes happinessthe end of life is not that it is false, butthat it does not carry us anywhere tillwe know in what happiness consists. Ifwe ceased to fight about words, the oneword happiness might be accepted byboth sides in the immemorial dispute,if only the word were defined in a large

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enough sense to include all the facts ofhuman experience. Certainly, no theoryof ethics can be right which leaves hap-piness out. There is danger on eitherside, but danger ever companies withlife. On the one side an emphasis onpleasure scatters life in frivolity, orswamps it in grossness. On the otherside to deny a place for pleasure is toattempt the impossible. If the theorywhich makes happiness the " being's endand aim " comes to grief, it is equallytrue that the theory which leaves happi-ness out comes to grief. It sins againsthuman nature, and either leaves life dryand barren, or drives it into revolt.Each new soul that enters the worldclaims its share of its birthright of joy.To leave out happiness from themoral ideal means to an earnest man as-ceticism of the worst sort. It meanspain for its own sake, a different thingfrom self-discipline which may willinglyundergo pain for the sake of a larger

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good to self or others. From the denialof happiness as a good, it is only a stepto view pain as itself a good, and manyreligious teachers come perilously neartaking that step. Fenelon begins aletter to Madame de Maintenon, " Iwas told yesterday evening, madame,that you are suffering very much fromtooth-ache. God be praised for it; Heafflicts those whom he loves. Pain is theheritage of His good children, and I amrejoiced that you are one of them.They are at peace in the midst of pain,and they are happy in suffering, whilstthe world is really miserable in its joys."Any theory which leaves out happinessas an essential part of its end leads toa false and strained morbidness, andsometimes even is a menace to the bestthings in human life. It would open thedoor to cruelty the most inhuman in thesupposed interests of dogma.

It is a calamity when religion is lookedon as the foe of human happiness, even

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mhc QUiaht iathough it is meant in the interests of ahigher happiness. Too often men havetried to shut the door of the world'sbeauty and truth and joy, as if thesewere evil in themselves. Heine tells thestory of the nightingale of Basle whichillustrates a common enough thought.One day in May 1443 at the time of theCouncil of Basle a company of prelatesand monks were walking in a wood nearthe to\\ni. They were disputing abouttheological controversies, but suddenlythey became silent and remained as if

/il rooted to the spot before a blossominglime-tree, wherein sat a nightingale car-rolling and sobbing forth her tenderestand sweetest melodies. These learnedmen began to feel in a strangely blessedmood, as the warm spring notes of thebird penetrated their scholastic and mo-nastic hearts. But at last one of them

^ shrewdly remarked that herein must besome wile of the devil, seeking to divertthem by its seductive strains from their20


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^appmcsisChristian conversation. He proceededto exorcise the evil spirit, and it is saidthat the bird rephed, " Yes, I am an evilspirit," and flew away laughing. Those,however, who had listened to its song fellsick that same day and died shortlythereafter !

In our deepest thinking we usuallyunderestimate the place and value ofjoy in life. Even in the matter of tem-perament, we are inclined to think thatthe bright and sunny nature must beshallow, and that the melancholy temper-ament is more likely to be the deepestand greatest. It is a prejudice whichhas been fastened on our mind by muchwriting about certain attributes ofgenius, of a piece with the modem theorythat genius is a sort of affection of thenerves and is therefore closely allied withinsanity. It is stated in many booksthat most men of real and indisputablegenius have been melancholy. Well, the

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'he K^ishi iastandard of natural genius for the Eng-lish-speaking world is Shakespeare, ab-solutely sane, absolutely healthy, withno mawkishness of feeling so common inpinchbeck genius, of cheerful tempera-ment, and a bright sunny view of life.It is really confusion of thought whichis responsible for the opposite opinion.We assume that if Shakespeare, or anyother, sees below the surface of things,and recognises the tragedy of life andall the sin and sorrow of men, there-fore his temperament must be melan-choly. Schiller's judgment is a pro-found one and a true one, "A gay serenespirit is the source of all that is noblestand good. Whatever is accomplishedof the greatest and noblest sort flowsfrom such a disposition. Petty gloomysouls, that only mourn the past anddread the future, are not capable ofseizing on the holiest moments of life."The affectation of sentiment and thespurious pathos, so easy to do and so

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^appirxcsiscommon in our literature, have made iteasy for us to believe the opposite ofSchiller's judgment.

Further, our common view of religionhas greatly helped in the growth of theerror. Is it not spoken of in manyquarters as the sorrowful way, and themelancholy inn, and the like.'^ TheChristian faith even has been succinctlydefined by a great master of literatureas " the worship of sorrow." We knowthe element of profound truth in thisexaggeration, as we know that in everydeep soul probably sorrow of some kindhas had much to do with its making;but it is to put the emphasis on the wrongthing when we disparage joy and exaltmere sorrow as a sign of either greatnessor goodness. It is not even an infallibleinstrument of grace. It can come to alife and leave it poorer than before. Itcan come to a heart and leave it onlythe harder. It can engulf a mind, andonly take from it its strength; whereas

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"^he ISiishi ia.--

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joy may be a source of insight, and asecret of wisdom, and a fountain ofstrength. ]Mere sorrow, the sorrow ofthe world, is a narrowing, weakeningthing. It dams back the natural forces.It shuts a man up within himself. Itgives a jaundiced eye which sees theworld clothed in drab, making nothingworth striving for, nothing worth livingfor. It robs the soul of its native force,killing aspiration as the rain puts outthe kindling beacon. We need to freeour mind from cant here also. Thereis a shallow cheerfulness, but there isalso a shallow melancholy. We speakglibly of the refining fire of sorrow, butin itself it is only a fire that can consumeas well as refine. It altogether dependson the way it is received, the spirit inwhich it is met, and that can be said ofevery other experience in life.Our common talk is even an injusticeto God, and a libel on His character, asif all natural joy were but lures of the

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^appincs^devil, and only grief were a divine mes-senger. The companions of the sorrow-ful way may have much to teach us ; butwhen we walk with them we may belooking only at the stones among ourfeet and never at the blue sky above us.We may learn much at the melancholyinn, but the company there may bepretty poor after all, as at any otherinn. Rather, we should realise that joyis strength. It is the fundamental prin-ciple of life, and the condition of growth.It is the expansive enlarging force, assorrow is the narrowing, weakeningforce. We only need to look at the childopening out in every power through thejoy of youth, as the flowers open out inthe sunshine. Great work is done withsomething of the spontaneity and ex-pansion of joy, done because it is a de-light to do it. Sorrow rightly used mayoften give insight, forcing the mind tothink and the eye to see; just as diseasemay read us many a lesson. At the

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'he ^^iqU lasame time joy is the normal, as healthis the normal, and life all disease wouldonly be death. Is there no opportunityfor a keener insight through the uplift-ing exulting power of happiness ? Withthe " deep power of joy," said Words-worth, " we see into the heart of things."Should this not be true, if there is at theheart of things, as we believe, perfectlife, perfect joy, perfect love.''

This message of the right to happi-ness is one still needed to-day. Thereremains much of the Pagan idea thatjoy only comes to us with a grudge.We are almost afraid to be happy, andwe accept some of life's best blessingstremblingly. We say that good news istoo good to be true, and when it comestrue we assert that it is too good to last." I was too happy " one will say, " andI knew I would have to pay for it."The truest joys of life are accepted withforeboding, and the implication is that

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^appmcsisGod grudges happiness to His children.It needs to be said that to the Christianjoy should be the habit of his mind, thetemper of his faith. Sorrows come andwill come, but faith is not made perfecttill they are dri^-en out by the stronghand of joy. The one and only cure forsorrow is joy. Anything else is a half-cure at the best; resignation is only apalliative. If we are to-day doubtingand timid, anxious about the presentand fearful about the future, is it notbecause we have not accepted the fullconsequences of our faith, have notplucked the rich fniits of believing .''

Also, it is a misfortune, to say theleast, that the young should have somuch cause to imagine that religionmeans gloom and darkness, instead ofjoy and light. Dr. Johnson comparedthe sour narrowness of some men to theneck of a vinegar bottle. We know withwhat measure of truth the comparisoncan be applied to some forms of religion.

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^ctpjrinc^^It is a calamity when the good newsshould be perverted in what is its essen-tial features. Instead of being narrowand dismal, religion is the biggest andbrightest thing that can come into aman's life, transforming every powerand inspiring every energy, bathing itin peace and flooding it with joy.

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There is an idea abroad among moralpeople that they should make their neigh-bours good. One person I have to makegood: myself. But my duty to my neigh-bour is much more nearly expressed by say-ing that I have to make him happy if Imay. R. L. Stevenson.

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IF we can be said with any truth topossess a right to happiness, theright can be stated as a duty. It is

even a duty to self. The mere exerciseand cultivation of any faculty is a sourceof pleasure, and such cultivation is surelyalso a duty, unless it conflicts with somestill higher duty. Society punishes wil-ful self-mutilation, and looks on suicideas a crime. We pity the man who is hisown worst enemy, as the saying goes,who throws away his chance for a happylife and does violence to his own bless-ings. Some people suck pleasure frommelancholy, as some "enjoy" poorhealth. It is even a common notionthat duty is precisely what we do notlike. If there is any doubt, the saferule is to find out what will be pleas-

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^hc "^vA:^ ofant, and do the opposite ! It doesoften happen that duty asks for sacri-fice and demands the hard thing ratherthan the easy one, but to make pain atest of duty is to turn the world topsy-turvy.Much sickly sentiment has passed forwisdom and passed for religion, as iflife was only a vale of tears, and manwas made to mourn, and the world wasbut a scene of woe. In such a universeit would be a duty to be unhappy, evenif by a freak of fortune it were possibleto avoid the regular lot. Disease andsorrow exist, but health is the normal,and joy is the natural, and it is a privi-lege to live. Problems abound, but themanly and healthy view is that theyexist to be bravely faced, and if pos-sible solved. The world with all itsmystery spells opportunity. It meansopportunity to be, as well as to do ; andopportunity for the personal life as wellas for the general.

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^ctppincsisThe duty of happiness becomes clearerwhen we see how it affects others. It is

the merry heart that makes the cheer-ful countenance, and it is the cheerfulcountenance that spreads cheer tomake other hearts merry. The sunnysoul brings sunshine everywhere. Abright and happy temperament is agreat social asset, adding to the happi-ness of the world. There is a prejudice,much encouraged by solemn wiseacres,that gravity of demeanour must betokenwisdom, and that a genial and sprightlymanner is an offence. " Let 's be grave,here comes a fool," said a wise man,knowing that the fool would misunder-stand brightness for levit}'. One hasknown a man who pulled his brows withthe weight of thought, till one felt surethat no man could really be as wise as helooked. He overacted the part. Tomost of us cheerfulness is wonderfullyattractive and invigorating. Somepeople bring with them a balmy and

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^Kc "^ul^ ofgracious air, which gives to others asense of ampler skies. We have evenknown a gracious old age, with theblitheness and cheerful peace of one whohas kept his youth.

Life has its dreary days, its depress-ing hours, when the spirits flag. Itlooks as if the sky would never clear,as if gaiety were a lost mood. A braveand cheering soul carries a magic, thatseems to dispel the gloom and make thesun to shine. Such an one comes into adispirited company like a breath from awide moor or the heather hills, and in-stantly dejection is charmed away. Thedreary tone departs, and each can takeup his burden again with a light heart.A cheerful friend makes us forget cares,and worries, and anxieties, and disap-pointments ; and the reprieve rests usand strengthens us. We take abrighter view of life. We lose the senseof strain, and a new courage restoresthe soul. There are some who have the

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gift of putting moral oxygen into theatmosphere, so that all can breathe morefreely.We habitually underestimate thesebuoyant and vivacious souls, who do somuch to brighten the lot of their friends.We often take it as a matter of course,and sometimes do not realise how theywarmed, and cheered, and comforted us,till it is too late to acknowledge ourdebt. The best way to acknowledge itis to turn it into a duty for ourselves,^and to take our share in the task. Wetoo can learn to be a little less morose,and grudging, and selfish. We say thatour friend's gift is merely a matter oftemperament, and we do not think thathis courage and brightness may need aneffort from him sometimes. We welcomehis cheerful spirit, but it may cover aninner weariness. His smile may be hid-ing his own depression. Why shouldnot we too join the goodly company ofthe encouragers .'' Why should not we

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"he 3uig oflearn a little of the large tolerance andthe blithe courage and the genial out-look, which would contribute to the joyof others?

This temper, whether natural or cul-tivated, does much to ensure the bestkind of success. Happiness is a realpower in the world, and often is thesecret of influence. All great doctorsseem to possess the gift of communicat-ing hope and courage to their patients.Everyone with any knowledge of humannature knows that faith and cheerfulnessand courage are powerful agents in re-storing and maintaining even bodilyhealth. To revive the will to live issometimes half the battle, especially inall nervous disorders. The genial na-ture, which we often associate with akind of weakness, is really a mark ofstrength. It means that a new qualityhas been driven into every activity oflife. It is allied to the broad tolerance,which may be the last triumph of the

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^appmcsisivictorious soul. It is the fruit of thedeep insight which makes a man tenderwith those who have fallen on life'sbattlefield, or who are in danger of fall-ing. We see enough to know that wedo not see all the conflict through whicheach soul passes, and all the burden ithas carried.

We must learn, however, not to limitthis duty of happiness to the little innercircle. The great lesson of life is co-ordination and co-operation all thatwe mean by citizenship. The duty ofhappiness means the insistence of thesame rights for others that we claimfor ourselves. All the more if a manmakes happiness the key to the meaningof life is he bound to accept this duty ;for life is not lived alone, one by one,but is a social affair. He cannot live tohimself if he tried ; and so the acceptanceof this fact carries with it an implica-tion, if not an obligation. Even self-

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interest demands the creation of a world,which will not be a constant check tohappiness by sights and sounds of mis-ery. It cannot add to the comfort ofDives, though clothed in fine linen andfaring sumptuously every day, if thebeggar Lazarus is at his door hungry,unkempt, with the dogs licking his sores.There is surely on any ethics a duty toone's self to aid in the happiness of ^\ Jothers.

Just as a man discovers that heowes most of his happiness to others,he discovers also that there is a newand sweeter pleasure in paying backsome of his social debt. As a mat-ter of experience, unselfishness reapsa reward in the satisfaction of the i[higher feelings. Conversely, a self-ish action brings a sense of being out ofrelation with life. We have played atraitor's part. It may seem only natu-ral to a man that he should seek thehappiness of those nearest him, kith and

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kin, wife, and children, and friends. Itwill become more and more natural forhim to draw bigger circles, and desirethe welfare of his village or town or city,the welfare of other little children be-sides his own, the group of his o^tiworkmen perhaps, the safety and pros-perity of the nation, happiness andpeace for other nations until he feels hi \k Jthe great tide of the world's life. Char- ' '

'

ity may begin at home, but it cannotend there. The love, which seeks tolive only for itself, begins

to die at theheart.

The ordinary man does not need tobe convinced that his own happinessdepends largely on the happiness of hisown home circle, and is willing to ac-knowledge that there lies for him muchof the ideal of his life as well as hisduty. The object of his thought andwork has already ceased to be selfish,and he assents to Robert Burns' noblelines :

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"he 3uiB ofTo make a happy fireside climeFor weans and wifeIs the true pathos and sublimeOf human life.

But the ordinary man needs to broadenhis sense of duty, and to see obligationand opportunity in the wider relations.This duty of happiness will have itsbearing in politics both civic and na-tional. He will share in every effort tomake conditions sweet and wholesome,in which men can live a reasonable andhappy life, enjoying the same blessingshe seeks for himself, the fruits of workand leisure and social intercourse. Hewill take his part both in creating pub-lic opinion and in enforcing it concern-ing conditions of industry, to banish thenameless evils of the modem city. Hewill even look wider and further afieldin international politics to work for theamity of nations. Whatever our theoryof life be, we cannot avoid the conclu-sion that if it could be proved that the

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average man is unhappy and suffersmisery in work and life, it is an indict-ment on that society, and is a proof ofits failure.

Practically all are agreed that weought to give what contribution we canto the world, and that we should takeour share in the task of adding to thehappiness of other men. This is acceptedeven by some who will not admit thatwe have any right to be happy ourselves.That position is due to repulsion fromthe doctrine that pleasure is the end ofhuman life, and the only object of manis to be happy. It is also partly dueto a discovery made long ago that theway to miss permanent happiness was toseek it with avidity. In some mysteri-ous manner the goal eluded the pursu-ing feet. The most bored of men wereseen to be those who sought pleasurewith a single eye. So the doctrine ofhappiness was amended to mean the

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'StKc 3uig ofgreatest good of the greatest number.Personal happiness, it was claimed,would be the result of seeking the happi-ness of others. It would come as a by-product. Without criticising this posi-tion, the point here made is that evenon that philosophy men are compelledto fall into line with what we have calledthe duty of happiness.

It does not mean that we are to giveourselves to personal happiness, andthen try to give it to others. Happinessis not something that can be accumu-

il\ lated as wealth can be and representedin a store of solid coin. One of the suremethods of being happy is by a frankand open intercourse with other life.If we seek our own things to the exclu-sion of the things of others, we will loseeven our own. If we separate our-selves in any way from the social life,refusing for the time sympathy andinterest, we lose the truest and sweetestjoys. To seek to make others happy

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^ajrpinc^sis one of the ways of happiness for one-self. The purest joy of life comesthrough society, and can never be at-tained alone. To taste the happinessof duty is one of the ways to equip one-self for the duty of happiness.

It does not make much differencewhether a man holds the theory that lifeV JI is governed by self-interest, if he prac-tically defines it so as to include thewhole sphere of morality demanded bysocial living, if he is a good son andhusband and father, if he is fair mindedand large hearted in all the natural re-lations, if he finds pleasure in civic andnational duty. He is really under lawswider than any law of selfishness. Thereare times when he acts without thoughtof self, when he is satisfying pi'ofounderinstincts than that of self-preservation.When the fireman risks life to save achild from a burning house, we mis-judge human nature if we try to explainits heroism as due to a desire for praise

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ItKc 3u{g ofor recognition or reward. There areelemental depths which cannot be fath-omed by our little measuring lines.Above all struggles for the life of self,there is a struggle for the life of others.Some systems speak of man in termsof mechanics as if he were a sort of ma-chine, which if you pull the same leverwill always do the same thing. Politicaleconomy speaks of the economic man asinvariably doing certain things in con-nection with rigid laws of supply anddemand, always buying in the cheapmarket and selling in the dear. No suchmen exist, or ever have existed. Thereis red blood in men's veins, and at timesall calculations are knocked out. Thereis always the personal equation whenwe are dealing with human life. Forthis reason there is always room forideals.

As a fact of observation and experi-ence we everywhere find, besides the com-

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^Sbajrpmcssmon selfish motive, a social motive atwork. They are not essentially op-posed; for we can say that the oneleads to the other, and also finds itshighest fruition in the other. The selfishmotive with which life begins, as seen inanimal and child, is found in man melt-ing into a larger motive. What hasbeen called enlightened selfishness dis-covers that it cannot fulfil itself exceptas it ministers to the common socialgood. It is more than a play on wordsto say that wealth is only made possibleby the commonwealth. Even business,which is often frankly described aspurely selfish, is the creation of socialinstinct. Trade is for mutual advan-tage, and serves social ends. It wouldbe impossible in a world of rogues,where no sort of good faith was prac-tised. In spite of ourselves we areforced to minister to some extent tothe welfare of others, but if this idealwere consciously accepted as a duty,

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practical, questions of social dutyrather than questions of abstract truth.Of course, lying back of all practicalproblems are ultimate views of life andof human nature, and every proposedpractical solution implies a speculativeposition. But our chief difficulties haveto do with social duty, problems of cap-ital and labour, of economic conditions,of poverty and wealth, of the relationof classes and races and nations. Whatideals ought we to place before us.^*Wherein would consist the truest andbest human life for a community? Howcan we build the City of God for ourown age and our place in the world'shistory? Whatever practical plans maybe tried, they will be along the line ofincreasing the happiness of the wholepeople and making life more tolerable.This is accepted on all hands as at leastpart of the ideal. All forms of govern-ment assert that one purpose is to ex-tend and preserve the welfare of those

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"Sthc 3u{g ofgoverned, to give protection and safety,and to promote the general happiness.For a brotherhood of men worth thename there will always be needed thevirtues and graces and loving nature,which the word brother at its best hascome to mean.We think of social duty as ambitiousschemes for affecting life in the mass.If a man cannot reconstruct society, heis inclined to imagine that nothing isexpected or demanded of him. Thereare theoretical socialists who do not lifta little finger in the smaller oppor-tunities for service. Surely conditionscan meanwhile be amehorated, and lifecan be made easier for some. Everyonecan begin somewhere, and to the ordi-nary person the first task is to bring somelight and joy to a small circle. Manyrefuse their natural field of usefulnessbecause it seems too narrow. If, asChalmers said, the grand essentials ofhappiness are something to do, some-

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^appincsisthing to love, and something to hope for,there is no lot so confined and no cornerof life so cramped that these oppor-tunities cannot be found. All have itin their power to add brightness and joyto the lives of some.

A common objection is that true lifeis from within, that if man were betterthe environment would be better, that itis useless to work from the outside, andthat even in the matter of happinessone man's meat is another man's poison.So we are told that the poor are happierin slums than they would be in palaces,and that they prefer dirt to cleanliness.In the face of every proposal to decreasemisery and improve conditions, we areadvised that on the whole it is betterto do nothing. It is fatalism of theworst kind, besides being a display ofarrogance. It is said of Frederick theGreat that when an eager supporter ofthe popular doctrine of the time spoke

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"^he "^ul^ ofenthusiastically of what education woulddo if we accepted the assumption of thegoodness of the human race, he replied," You don't know the race."Many with less excuse take the sameimperial tone. They speak as if they

themselves belonged to another race,with other and finer qualities. They aremade of a different clay ! They forgetthat they were digged from the samepit, and hewn from the same rock. Intheir minds the people exist merely tobe ruled, and governed, and policed, and

/;! now and again used as food for powderin war, or as pawns in a game of com-merce. As a matter of fact the wholesuperior attitude is an argument infavour of the value of environment, andeducation, and opportunity, and whatare called the advantages of life. If 4these things can do so much for themthat they can feel as if they belonged toanother race, why should the samethings not do as much for others .f* If

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congenial work, and leisure, and art,and knowledge can set them on such apinnacle, will not the same upliftingforces be as powerful with others? It isarrogance of the worst sort when fromthe seats of privilege comes the objec-tion, " You don't know the race," madeto every hopeful effort to lighten thelives spent in misery and joylessness.The arrogance is the same, whether it ./be heard in a military aristocracy or inan industrial plutocracy. The duty ofhappiness is not fulfilled till we makeit stand for the right of others tohappiness.

It is true that life is more than meat,and that the life of a man does not con-sist in the abundance of the things thathe possesseth. It is true that the mind ''can be a kingdom, and that no meregospel of the dinner-pail can save so-ciety. If all men were as angels andhad a perfect interior life, there would

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"Uhe 1>ul^ ofbe no social problem. It is equally truethat if all men lived out perfectly thegolden rule and sought the things ofothers rather than of self, there wouldbe no problem. If life everywhere wereperfectly adjusted, external conditionswould be negligible. But the whole taskof life is one of adjustment, and it isfutile to argue what would be if the factswere other than they are. The factsclearly indicate that to multitudes thehigher life is practically impossible be-cause of intolerable conditions. Withsweated labour and crowded slums andhopeless poverty, how can spiritual in-terests find entrance to many.'' Withthe degradation of home and the conta-gion of example, which is the environ-ment of so many children, what chancehave they to live the life wliich shouldbe their birthright.'' The very existenceof some of the evils of our modern cityis a challenge to all who accept the dutyof happiness.

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^ctppincsiSiWe do not wonder that some re-

formers put all the emphasis on materialconditions. We do not wonder thatmany speak as if the millennium wouldbegin when material blessings werebetter distributed. If they exagger-ate the redeeming power of physicalcomfort in their passion to help thesocially distressed, we can sympathisewith even the narrowness of their out-look. Also, we must not forget the truththat their program contains, remember-ing as we do how much the best in ourown life we can credit to our happy cir-cumstances. Grinding poverty, thesting of hunger, a bare and crowdedhome, sordid cares, the lack of the ordi-nary amenities of life and sometimeseven of its decencies, justify the re-former's zeal. He may well think that itis useless to speak of higher needs to besatisfied, and higher instincts to benourished, until the primal needs aremet. If wherever there is need we can

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" -find our neighbour, it is not hard to seewhere at least part of our duty Hes, andit may be that our first duty is to seekto make our neighbour happy beforewe try to make him good.

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To watch the com grow, or the blossomsset; to draw hard breath over the plough-share or spade; to read, to thmk, to love, topray, are the thuigs that make men happy.Ruskin.

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FORTUNATELYthe common

sources of happiness correspondwith the elemental needs of life.When we have found out the natural

things which man needs in order to livethe truly human life of the best sort, wehave discovered the ordinary sources ofhappiness. These are first the primalnecessities for physical well-beingfood and shelter and activity. Thelargest menu crowded with Frenchnames is only an elaboration of the com-mon need that men have to eat. Thevariety and refinements of dress and theestablishments of a palace are only elab-orations of the need of shelter. Themost expensive games and sports, polo-playing and yachting, or the particularsport that happens to be most fashion-

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,[^^ -.71

^hc Sources oj"^:'i^able, are only elaborations of the needof exercise. We create artificial needs,and desire grows by what it feeds on ;but we soon discover that happiness doesnot depend on the number of men'swants. According to a man's income andtastes he lives in a certain style, and feelshe needs a certain size of house, and mustwear a certain manner of dress, and havea certain kind of cooking. Servants,horses, automobiles, and what not, getto be looked on as necessities, merelybecause it is thought that a certain wayof living is required. We develop wants,and begin to think that they are needs.A little observation convinces us thatthere is no end to that method of attain-ing happiness. We see that those wholook on life as a game of grab neverreach a point of contentment. They arelike the daughters of the horse-leechever crying, " Give, give." There isalways room for Carlyle's satire that theblack spot in our sunshine is the shadow

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of ourselves. " Will the whole financeministers and upholsterers and confec-tioners of modem Europe undertake, injoint-stock company, to make one shoe-black happy? They cannot accomplishit, above an hour or two : for the shoe-black also has a soul quite other than hisstomach ; and would require, if you con-sider it, for his permanent satisfactionand saturation, simply this allotment,no more, and no less : God's infinite Uni-verse altogether to himself, therein toenjoy infinitely, and fill every wish asfast as it rose. Oceans of Hochheimer,a throat like that of Ophiuchus : speaknot of them ; to the infinite shoeblackthey are as nothing. No sooner is yourocean filled, than he grumbles that itmight have been of better vintage. Tryhim with half of a universe, of an om-nipotence, he sets to quarrelling with theproprietor of the other half, and de-clares himself the most maltreated ofmen."

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*hc ^ouvce^ ofThere are some ambitions which men

set before them as the infalhble way toa happy Hfe, such as fame, or a positionof power, or the possession of greatwealth ; but apart from the fact thatthose who attain them confess their fail-ure to permanently satisfy, we rule theseout because they cannot be the meansfor the mass of men. It is fortunatethat happiness does not depend on pos-sessions. Indeed these often hinder, asover-anxiety to provide for contingen-cies burdens the mind. In Lewis Carroll'sThrough the Looking-Glass Alice foundthat the White Knight worried himselfwith all sorts of contrivances a bee-hive in case some bees made a nest in itand gave him honey, a mouse-trap incase mice should come that he mightkeep them from running all over thehorse's back, anklets round his horse'sfeet to guard against possible bites ofsharks, a dish that would come in handyif he found any plumcake, and other

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things of his own invention for eventu- \alities. It is a parable of life for manyof us, who cumber ourselves with thingsthat are supposed to minister to com- 'fort. A man makes a great discoverywhen he learns that his life does not con- \sist of the abundance of things, and that 'happiness lies along the line of the com-mon and universal needs. We find twomen toiling laboriously one to geta dinner for his appetite, and the otherto get an appetite for his dinner ; andsometimes it is difficult to say whichfinds his task the harder of the two.Experience teaches also that whenevermen live simply and sanely pleasurecomes easily with every act.

It is fatuous to deny that there aresatisfactions of sense, and that theseare the foundations of a happy life.They are often condemned as mere ani-mal pleasures, and despised in the sup-posed interests of the higher faculties.

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^lic /S)ources ofThat religion is false, which draws sharplines between the sacred and the secular,and which looks on the natural func-tions of life as common and unclean.For one thing, it is not easy to draw asharp line, and classify certain pleas-ures as bodily and others as intellectual.Are the delights of music independentof the physical sense of hearing, and isthe beauty of the landscape without re-lation to the physical sense of sight?The finest pleasures of the emotionallife are connected with the nervous sys-tem, and even the intellectual life restson the gray matter of the brain. Ifwe try to rule out sensuous enjoymentit can only be by making an end of life.For, all the natural sources of happi-ness are related to sense, the beauty ofcolour and form, the odour of flowers,the harmony of music, the sweep of theocean, the sublimity of mountains andgorgeous sunsets. By all avenues ofsense the wonderful world presses in on

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^appincs;Sius, and we can find pleasure at everydoor.We frankly and gratefully acknowl-edge that a source of pleasure lies inthe region of the senses, in the exerciseof the bodily functions. In all of themthe golden injle of moderation is thefruit of the wisdom and experience ofthe ages. Many superior moralistsseem to think it a degradation that theordinary man should enjoy his meals.But apart from the fact that a neces-sary function justifies itself in spiteof superfine criticism, we see no reasonfor despising when we think that somuch of social life and home life centresthere. The table has become a centre ofhuman relations, friendship, family af-fection, the virtues of hospitality, inter-course, and ordinary human fellowship.In civilised life a meal is a social cere-mony, and everyone knows the distinc-tion practically between eating andfeeding. To convince ourselves of this,

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^hc ^ourccsi ofwe need only think of the table-talkwhich has taken its place in literature,and which has an even dearer place inour lives. We need only think how theceremony, which began with the love-feasts of the early church, stands nowas the symbol of the profoundest truthin Christian faith.

But we do not need thus to spiritual-ise it to justify it. There is a solemngrace before a meal which assumes thatthe only purpose of eating is that thefood should be sanctified, and as oftenas not the remark of Mrs. Johnsonwould apply : " Where is the use, Mr.Johnson, of returning thanks for a dishwhich in another minute you will de-clare is unfit for a dog?" The greatpurpose of religion after all should benot to secularise the sacred, but to sanc-tify the secular. We learn how muchwe have to be thankful for, and howeasily in our estimates of life we canoverlook the common gifts. Walter

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Pater, in Marius the Epicurean, speak-ing of the early, simple, and seriousRoman religion, says, " And thosesimple gifts, like other objects equallytrivial bread, oil, wine, milk hadregained for him, by their use in suchreligious service, that poetic and, as itwere, moral significance which surelybelongs to all the means of our dailylife, could we but break through the veilof our familiarity with things by nomeans vulgar in themselves."

Accepting the physical basis of life,the first important factor in ordinaryhappiness is health. This is one of thecommon boons, the worth of which fewrealise till they lose it, or are in dangerof its loss. It is only when there is anobstruction in the smoothly runningmachine that we take notice how well itworks. In one way or another we dis-cover that good health is a prime factorin happiness. Whether we ever learn

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^hc Sources ofto value it for itself or not, we learnits importance for all the other ends oflife. We need not go so far as to saywith Dr. Johnson that illness makes aman a scoundrel, but at any rate it is aserious handicap both for good workand for good spirits. Health ensuresmore than the mere endurance whichmakes heavy work possible ; for it alsoaffects the quality of the work. Com-plete efficiency is not possible for thoseliving constantly at a low level of health.

Health also affects our practicaljudgments, and lack of it often givesthe warped mind which cannot seethings as they are. Men drift betweenvacillation and obstinacy, because theyhave lost the balance, and are livingwith shaken nei-ves. Sydney Smith saidwittily about a man that he had " notbody enough to cover his mind decentlywith: his intellect is improperly ex-posed." Certainly many a man wouldhave more influence if he had a more

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proportionate development of body andmind. To-day many professions havebecome so strenuous, that only a strongman can bear the burden which eminencein them demands. A doctor, himselfsuffei-ing from physical languor, maybe even a danger to his patient. Manya time the judgment is clouded becausethe head is not clear, and work doneunder a feeling of depressed vitality willlose some of its best quality.

Health goes even further in its effects,and influences moral qualities. Wespeak about the soul commanding thebody, and so it can and does. Therehave been many instances in which greatvirtues have been born of pain, and his-tory is full of noble illustrations of menwho have turned their necessity to glori-ous gain, and have made physical weak-ness an occasion for the display ofmoral strength. But more often thfebody gets a more secure place of com-mand, the weaker it is. Slackness of

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*^Hc >&auvcc^ offibre communicates itself to mental andmoral states. Bodily conditions influ-ence the whole life. Noldeke quotes asaying in connection with some of thedisgusting neglect of body of a pillar-saint like St. Simon Stylites : " Wherethe skin has little feeling, so also hasthe mind and soul." An invalid can behappy, and a weakling can be noble, butit is in spite of their disabilities. Thecomplete functions of life can only beadequately performed in health, and sowe rightly make the first substantialfactor of happiness a wholesome physi-cal nature. s^

This naturally leads to the second \source of happiness, to be found in work.^We should naturally expect this, ifmodem psychology is correct in relatingpleasure to vital energy. Pleasuremarks the normal exercise of function,and pain is the impeding of a function.It used to be explained as a purely pas-

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sive thing, a satisfaction received fromoutside stimulus. We now see that itis connected with activity, the outgoingof energy, the exercise of faculty. Thisexplains a fact often noted, that there isa pleasure which comes through whatcan only be called pain, if we were com-pelled to classify every state of feehng.

There is a pleasure in poetic painsWhich only poets know.It is sometimes hard to disentangle thestrands of the cord, though one of themis a scarlet strand.

Looking on pleasure as a passivething, some very humble teachers havedefined happiness as merely the cessa-tion of pain, or the slight balance ofpleasure over pain if indeed that everis possible. So, the saying of the Greeksage has been repeated scores of times," Call no man happy till he is dead," themeaning being that however much goodthere has been in life there may yet come

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"he ^ouvcc^ ofmore evil to counterbalance it. Thecrreat truth, that it is more blessed togive than to receive, is only nonsense tothis view of happiness. The idea thatpleasure could itself be cradled in painhas no place in a scheme, which makeshappiness merely the result of the cessa-tion of pain. In this view the best wecan do is to minimise unhappiness, andso the effort should be to forget selfand drown sorrow in a cup of forget-fulness. The narcotic plan of life iscommon enough. Dr. Johnson believedthat man desired happiness, but thoughtit a craving that was doomed ever tofailure, and roundly asserted that noman could be happy except when he isdrunk! All such views are due to thefailure to understand the true sourceof pleasure

as output not income.There is a joy in overcoming, of beingin the very stress and strain of life, solong as we are fit for the task. Thereis pleasure in battling in the teeth of the

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^appincsishard glad weather. The strong mandoes not ask for the shelter of a snugnest as his permanent environment.Work if it is at all congenial is asource of great happiness, and this isin line with the statement of psychologythat pleasure comes from function inhealthful action. This does not meanthat only when there is a strong natural Jbent will a man enjoy his work. Theaverage man has no special aptitude forone kind of work above another. Thesecret of happiness in work does not liein only doing; the kind of work we like,but in learning to like the kind of workwe do. In any case, whether we getmuch enjoyment from actual work, itis a fact of experience that without it

/ happiness cannot be kept. The aimless/ lives are the most miserable, and the\busy ones the most happy. Life loses

its flavour if the salt of work be left out.Carlyle, it may be, exaggerates the gos-pel of work, but he is surely right in

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^hc Sources of> essence in asserting that " work is thegrand cure of all maladies and miseriesthat beset mankind honest work whichyou intend getting done." The hope-less classes at both ends of the scale are

^ the idle, who have no serious purpose.A life of idle luxury and selfish ease ishaunted by the hell of ennui.At the same time praise of work for U ^its own sake sounds like satire to many, il ^who feel that work to them is often ^-^drudgery. It would be different if workwere always congenial and full of in-terest. As a matter of fact, however, '| ||\work in itself is often not a joyful thing,and has sometimes more pain than pleas-ure connected with it. If it were a con-stant source of happiness, it is remark- H 11able that men should seek everywhereto avoid it, and that so many of usshould make our ideal a blessed timewhen we may be able to be idle. Ofcourse some of this is due to the over-strain and overwork of much modern

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^ctppmeiSidindustry. But we should clear ourminds of cant here also ; and while it istrue that a happy life must have a pur-pose in it and therefore must have work,yet work after all is not an end but ameans. To most it is a means to earnone's living, and to some to earn theright to do something else. Most menwork for the leisure which enables themto do what they like better than workitself. We feel instinctively that to liveonly for one's work would be life with-out a Sabbath.The next great source of happiness is

to be found in the region of the naturalrelations of life the satisfaction ofthe affections. It includes home life,friendship, and the varied associationswith others. We are bound up in abundle of life, and the purest joys comefrom the connection. Human life hasnever been, and can never be, lived inisolation. Social intercourse has made

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^hc ^ouvcc^ ofus what we are. Chief among theseforces is the family, and there hes formost the great opportunity for happi-ness. So great is this that it outweighsall other sources of felicity, and failurehere gives a bitterness to the whole oflife. The family represents the firstduty of the normal man, and in it he /^finds his true happiness. The chiefsource of satisfaction is found in themutual love of husband and wife, par-ents and children, brothers and sisters.The cultivation of the domestic joysshould be the chief aim in the art ofgiving and receiving happiness. As amatter of fact life is spoiled for manynot because of great troubles, but by thepetty pricks. Home life, the source ofthe sweetest pleasure and the most per-manent joy, is often ruined by littlestupidities, foolish disputes, childishmisunderstandings.There is a pure pleasure that olderpeople can have in the joy of children.

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^appincsi^Marcus Cornelius Fronto, one of theteachers of the Emperor Marcus Aure-lius, writes in his serene old age to theemperor about his children : " Well, Ihave seen the little ones the pleasant-est sight of my life ; for they are as likeyourself as could possibly be. It haswell repaid me for my journey over thatslippery road and up those steep rocks ;for I beheld you, not simply face to facebefore me, but more generously which-ever way I turned, to the right or leftof me. For the rest, I found them,heaven be thanked ! with healthy cheeksand lusty voices. One was holding aslice of white bread like a king's son ;the other a crust of brown bread as be-comes the offspring of a philosopher.I pray the gods to have the sower andthe seed alike in their keeping ; to watchover this field wherein the ears of cornare so kindly alike. Ah ! I heard, too,their pretty voices, so sweet that in thechildish prattle of one and the other I

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^

^hc .-Sources ofseemed somehow to be listening yes,in that chirping of your pretty chickens to the limpid and harmonious notesof your own oratory. Take care ! youwill find me growing independent, havingthose I could love in your place

loveon the surety of my eyes and ears."There is more than a courtier's touchin this letter, the touch of a philoso-pher, with an eye to the great humanrelations.

If the home is the sphere of a man'ssweetest happiness, much more is it trueof the normal woman ; for the necessitiesof life drive him from home during muchof his time. Pleasure in children is notconfined to the earliest stages when theirweakness and winsome ways so easilytouch every heart. There is a greaterinterest, if not a greater pleasure, in thegrowth of faculty and character whichcomes in later years. Indeed the sad-dest thing in life often is that a son'ssuccess comes too late to rejoice the heart

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^appmcs^sof father or mother, to whom it wouldhave been the richest gladness. Thissource of happiness, like the othersmentioned, is one that is independent ofwealth or station. Often great wealthor high station cut people off from thejoy that the poorest here have. Burnsin his Cotter's Saturday Night de-scribes a labouring man's home-coming,At length his lonely cot appears in view.Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin' stacher

thro'To meet their dad, wi' flichterin noise andglee.His wee bit ingle, blinking bonnily.

His clean hearth-stane, his thrifty wifie'ssmUe,The lisping infant prattling on his knee,Does a' his weary carking cares beguile,An' makes him quite forget his labour an'his toil.

Such love, with hardly else beyond thework which makes the home possible, isitself enough to make life worth living.

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^\ie ^ourcc^ ofThere are other relations, which con-

tribute to happiness, the wider circleswhich sweep through our common life,with the home as a centre. Civilisedsociety consists of more than a series ofunrelated homes, each a separate unit.There are all the associations which menmake through their work, or their per-sonal tastes, or their purposes. Oppor-tunities abound for the cultivation ofsympathy and helpfulness and mutualservice, through the groups which com-pose social life. Here also happinessawaits the natural and generous outflowof sympathetic feeling and action. Re-membering our principle that the com-mon sources of happiness correspondwith the elemental needs of life, it followsthat here we would expect true satis-faction, since social life is the naturalcondition. First among these outsiderelations, especially to the young, isfriendship, which sometimes comes as thegreatest gift in the world. It comes

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^appinc/ssinto many a life like a miracle, bringing-spring to the heart. All things seempossible to men who feel themselves be-longing to each other. There is a thrillin the words Shakespeare puts into themouth of King Henry V.We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.Friendship is training for the largersocial life, and should point the way tothe wider interests. The loyalty of com-rade to comrade is needed for every as-sociation of men who seek to serve thecommunity, and this loyalty is itself astrength and an abiding joy.

There is another natural source ofhappiness in the exercise of the facultiesof the mind, but this will be dealt within speaking of the Grades of Happiness.No reference to the sources of happinesscould be complete, which entirely leftout the intellectual satisfaction whichman can have through the use of reason

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*Kc ^auvcc^ ofand thought and imagination. We haveseen that pleasure accompanies the out-flow of energy, and naturally we wouldlook to this further source. But ourchief purpose here is to show that thegreatest happiness lies in the humblerspheres open practically to all men, andnot merely to the favourites of fortuneor the most gifted sons of men. Indeed ,>these special gifts bring special burdens, i\ Jand often lay the heart open to specialsorrows. Even those men who have trodhigh paths, who have attempted great

;/[) labours and achieved great ambitions,have looked for their real happiness inthe humbler spheres which are commonto all. Men, who have climbed high orwho have devoted their lives to greatpublic service, have confessed that theirbest joy has come not in success or fame,but in the simpler regions their homeor their friendships, the love of natureor of children, the pleasure of readingor of human intercourse. It is a com-

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^afrpinCiS^mon experience that the exceptional giveslittle real j oy . The things men strugglefor, the prizes of ambition, are oftenbarren of pleasure, and certainly aredwarfed beside the common humansources of happiness.

It is a great comfort to realise thatsome of the chief sources of happinessare open to all. We do not forget thatany or all of these things cannot assureus of complete satisfaction ; and wedo not forget that being all to someextent at the command of fortune noman can guarantee them. Health maybe broken by accident, work may be aconstant pain or even become an impos-sibility, the delights of home may be de-nied or may be shattered by the weak-ness of others. In any case thesesources are more or less insecure andsooner or later must dry up, so that lifeneeds a more secure refuge. Yet withall allowance there is comfort in the

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^ctppmc/ssdo not recognise and use all our presentopportunities. We are always goingto be happy in some other situation whenother and distant joys are possessedby us.

" Man never is but always to beblessed." Many a man possesses thetrue sources of this wealth of joy, butpersistently turns his back on them,sighing for an El Dorado that never ispossible. We spend money for thatwhich is not bread and despise the home-made fare that really can satisf3% Weneglect our own garden, which couldgrow flowers and fruit as fair and asgood as the product of far off climes.A foreign wine may be as inferior too,as it is more costly than, the vintageof our own vineyard. We hunger forthe unknown, when we might simply riseand break our fast. It should be to us agreat lesson to realise that the truesources of ordinary human happinessare so common, and that the opportuni-ties are scattered at our feet. Health,

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and work, and rest, and love, and thesimple exercise of all the gifts of humannature are the fountains that quench thethirst of man for the joy of life.

There is much to be said for theGipsy philosophy in the conversationrecorded by George Borrow in " La-vengro " :" ' Life is sweet, brother.'" ' Do you think so? '" ' Think so !there 's night and day,brother, both sweet things ; sun, moonand stars, brother, all sweet things:there 's hkewise a wind on the heath.Life is very sweet, brother: who wouldwish to die ? '" ' In sickness, Jasper? '" ' There 'sthe sun and stars, brother.'" ' In blindness, Jasper? '" ' There 's the wind on the heath,brother. . . . Dosta, we '11 now go tothe tents and put on the gloves, and I '11try to make you feel what a sweet thingit is to be alive, brother 1 ' "

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Many and subtle are my lays,The latest better than the first,For I can mend the happiest daysAnd charm the anguish of the worst. Emerson.

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IT is no disparagement of the com-mon human joy, which is affordedby the ordinary sources of happi-ness, to say that the heart cannot becompletely and permanently satisfiedthus. There are indeed earthly waterswhich quench thirst, but whoso drinkethof them thirsteth again ; and the heartof man has longed for waters, whichif a man drink he shall never thirst butfind a living well springing up within.The ordinary happiness is unstable atthe best, and can be lost by a disaster.We may lose it through forces andevents, over which we have no control.We cannot boast ourselves of even to-morrow's joy; for we know not whatshall be on the morrow. It is imperfectwhile it lasts, and it is uncertain of last-

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'^hc ^ecrci ofing at all. This precarious nature ofall human pleasure has ever added pathosto life. We are dependent on the worldfor ordinary happiness, and have towrest it with effort from the barrenfields of life and even compel life to giveus it against the very forces of nature.That is an unequal conflict, and how-ever successful we may be, it is a con-test in which we must ultimately bevanquished. Sooner or later we mustloosen our grasp on the common sourcesof joy; for that which is against usbecomes stronger than all that is withus. Any day may be the day when thegrasshopper is a burden, and one dayeven desire shall fail.

This is not to say that it was notworth while. Even at the worst it isworth while to put up a good fight withlife. There is joy itself in pluckingjoy from the clutches of the enemy, insnatching success from the very teethof failure. Life is a great and glorious

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^crppincs^venture, and a man may rejoice in themere battle. We do not forget alsothat discontent and unhappiness haveserved a useful function in the educationof man. Men have been driven out, aswell as tempted out, to try their fortunesin unknown shores. But it only adds tothe pathos of our lot to discover, notonly that shipwreck is possible, but thatwe never reach the longed-for land.It often dashes the zeal of an eager re-former when he realises that there aremore foes to joy than poverty. Thereare more sources of human misery thanwant, and the way to happiness isharder to find than the way to prosper-ity. There is a Kingdom into whichit is not easy for a rich man to enter,and there are conditions sometimes whichmake it seemingly as hard for the poorto enter. With all that may be said ofthe joy of struggle, every soul of manmust sometimes long for a place wherehe can entrench himself and know that

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^hc /Secret ofwhat is with us is more than all thatcan be against us.Some have held that to admit theimperfection of ordinary happiness isto deny that it can be. They say thatthese common sources, where we professto have found a substantial measure ofhappiness, really play us false. Thesatisfaction of sense and mind and heartare admittedly incomplete, and so it isfutile to count on them at all. Betterconfess the failure of life to measureup to man's needs. That is hke sayingthat half a loaf is no bread, or evenworse than no bread. As a matter offact to take once more the way ofcourage it adds an interest to lifethat happiness is incomplete and uncer-tain. If we could always predict ourgood and bad fortune, and could tell theissue of each day, we would lose oftenwhat is the real joy of surprise. Hobbesstated a fact of experience when he de-clared that men are never less at ease

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^appinesjSithan when most at ease, and the progressof the race has depended on that fact.If the common sources of happiness areimperfect and precarious, it is a call notto despise them, but to seek if there hasbeen left out another element, and toask if there may be a secret of happinesswhich may turn the very imperfectioninto a deeper source of joy and peace.To look back over the way by whichman has come, we see that life begins

with the primitive instinct of self whichdrives to satisfy desire, to seek food andthe other needs of life. On that hasgrown the social sense, bringing new en-joyments, fuller life and a larger self.It has been practically discovered thateven enlightened selfishness will take intoaccount this social sense and cannot forits own sake neglect social duty. Buthuman nature just as truly shows signsof moving under the impulse of some-thing higher than the impulse of pleas-

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^he Secret ofure. Men are driven to make choicesoften against self-interest, against mani-fest personal gain. The great problemof life arises out of this dual nature, andthere is conflict between an ideal whichwe acknowledge and a desire which wefeel. There is a higher against whichthe lower wages incessant warfare, de-scribed in classic form as flesh lustingagainst spirit. When we make deliber-ate choice of the lower, we feel somehowthat we have sinned against a law of ourown nature, and done violence to ourown true self, and so we suffer a senseof loss. We taste something of the realsin of sacrilege. If on the other handwe choose the higher at any cost, at lossof immediate pleasure or gain, and re-spond to the urgency of conscience, weenter into peace and feel that it was forthis we were born.

This imperative passes under manynames duty, justice, right, truthand the noblest souls of the race have

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known, and have acted under the knowl-edge thatBecause right is right, to follow rightWere wisdom in the scorn of consequence.What makes it not only possible butsometimes inevitable that one man shoulddie for the people? That was said bya worldly ecclesiastic who used it as anargument for crucifying Christ; butthe strange thing is that he bowed tothe principle in words, as Christ didin effect. Why should men willinglysuffer for others? Why should a trueman make sacrifice for love of truth?It is playing with words to try to de-scribe the noblest acts in history interms of selfishness, however refined andenliffhtened we make selfishness. Gener-osity, sympathy, sacrifice, devoted loveare not explained by any principle thatthe whole duty of man is to live and letlive. It is quite true that civilised so-ciety demands virtues, which in the main

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^hc /-Secret ofand in the long run are identical withthose which a wise regard for personalhappiness will also produce. Justice,temperance, consideration for others,even mercy and kindness would be thecommon product of both theories. Butin every life there come times of crisiswhen a man must deliberately choose be-tween the advantage of self and thewelfare of others, when he must riskeverything at the call of conscience. Itis precisely by such ventures that theworld has been lifted forward in itssteep ascent.

There can be no true or permanenthappiness so long as we believe that thisdemand of our liigher life is unnatural.All the lower fountains of earthly hap-piness are poisoned at their source, if wecan believe that here life plays us false.Sooner or later we are thrown back onour fundamental faith about the worldand our fundamental attitude towards

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^crppme^sslife. The great cleavage of men Is notalong the line of our common divisionsinto rich and poor ; nor into learned andIgnorant ; nor into believing and unbe-lieving. Some of our common divisionsare accidental, and some are merely ap-parent. All men have to walk and liveby faith. All are compelled to makecertain presuppositions before they canbegin to think or to act. When ourthoughts or actions are based on judg-ments of probability merely, as happenswith much scientific investigation andmuch practical business, we are buildingon faith as truly as the religious mandoes In his worship. It is not aquestion of faith or unbelief. It is faithanyway, and the only question is whatkind of faith and on what it builds. Wecan see how In the long run the wholeproblem of happiness depends on wherethe foundation of life Is laid.The ultimate division of mankind is

into optimists and pessimists. This Is95


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^hc ^ccrci ofobscured to us by the fact that bothwords are used for surface moods. Thereis a surface sort of optimism, got byshutting the eyes to facts, and whichwhistles to keep its courage up. It isa common trick for men, both in prac-tice and in speculation, to purchasepeace by eliminating all the things thatwould disturb peace. Much of ourpractical materialism, content with whatthe hands can gather and the sensesenjoy, is born of this surface optimism.When there is trouble in life or in thebusiness world its plan is to create aspurious confidence by declaring thatall is well and all will be well. On theother hand there is a surface pessimismwhich is merely cynical criticism of menand events. It is sometimes an affecta-tion, and sometimes simply a mood ofmind. But this ultimate division meanssomething deeper and goes down to theroots of life. When we are done withverbiage and are done with clouding the

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issue, we realise that either life is some-thing that we have the right to be hope-ful about, or something of which we havethe right to despair. It has to do withthe kind of world we can conceive our-selves to be living in or, if you like,the kind of world we will ourselves tolive in.

On one side, the world with all itsmystery and its unreadable riddles isaccepted as rational and with somethingin it we can speak of as purpose. Wedo not see the end from the beginning,or rather from our place in the process,but an end we believe there is. We be-lieve that the world means something andmeans something good. We have afirm basis on which to stand, and havefaith in the moral order of the world.Human life becomes something other thana game of chance, or than a struggle ofcunning or force. On this footing wecan trust the world ; we can trust life ;

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^hc ^ecrcl ofwe can trust ourselves. We can believein the future. We can see meaning inthe past and purpose in the present.The great words of human historyconscience, duty, sacrifice are justi-fied by the nature

of things and by thenature of man. The common sources ofhappiness in the activities of life, in theperformance of work, in the natural re-lations and ties of affection, in the out-flow of all the powers and capacitiesthese common sources become assured bythis central faith. The water from thesefountains would be bitter, if there wereno perennial fountain from which theyare fed. They are not illusion, becausethe world is not illusion. With this cen-tral faith in the moral order, we enterinto peace and find the secret of per-manent joy.On the other side, whether we talk ofchance or the fortuitous concourse ofatoms, or a series of fortunate coinci-dences to explain the world and man, it

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^appincs^eimeans a universe that has no sense toit, no purpose, no rational meaning orend. It may well have an end in timeand indeed the sooner the better butthere is no end in purpose. There isno understanding in it, and so nothingreal on which we can stand. It is asort of nightmare, a weird welter underthe pitiless stars, g

Hugh Black - Happiness 1868

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