The Philosophy of Despair | Page 6

feels but cannot or will
not act.
"Can it be, O Christ in Heaven, That the highest suffer most, That the

strongest wander farthest And most hopelessly are lost? -
That the mark of rank in Nature Is capacity for pain, And the anguish of
the singer Marks the sweetness of the strain?
That this must be so rests in the very nature of things. The most perfect
instrument is one most easily thrown out of adjustment. The most
highly developed organism is the most exactly fitted to its functions,
the one most deeply injured when these functions are altered or
suppressed.
Man's sensations and power to act must go together. Man can know
nothing that he cannot somehow weave into action. If he fails to do this
in one form or another, it is through limitations he has placed on
himself. Man cannot suffer for lack of "more worlds to conquer,"
because his power to conquer worlds is the product of his own 'past life
and his own past needs. To weave knowledge into action is the antidote
for ennui. To plan, to hope, to do, to accomplish the full measure of our
powers, whatever they may be, is to turn away from Nirvana to real life.
A useful man, a helpful man, an active man in any sense, even though
his, activity be misdirected or harmful, is always a hopeful man.
The feeling that "the only reality in life is pain," is the sign not of
philosophical acuteness but of bodily under-vitalization. The nervous
system is too feeble for the body it has to move. To act is to make the
environment your servant. Its pressure is no longer pain but joy. The
concessions which life has made to time and space are the source of
life's glory and power.
The function of the nervous system is to carry from the environment to
the brain the impressions of truth, that action may be true and safe. Pain
and pleasure are both incidental to sound action. The one drives, the
other coaxes us toward the path of wisdom. If pain is in excess of joy in
our experience, it is because we have wandered from the path of normal
activity. By right-doing, we mean that action which makes for
"abundance of life," and abundance of life means fulness of joy.
"Though life be sad, yet there's joy in the living it" was the word of the
ancient Greeks, "who ever with a frolic welcome took the Thunder and

the Sunshine."
The life of man is dynamic, not static; not a condition but a movement.
"Not enjoyment and not sorrow" is its end or justification. It is a rush of
forces, an evolution towards greater activities and higher adjustment,
the growth of a stability which shall be ever more unstable. This
onward motion is recognized in the pessimistic philosophy of Von
Hartmann, as a movement towards ever greater possibilities of pain.
With him life is "the supreme blunder of the blind unconscious force"
which created man and developed him as the prey of ever-increasing
suffering.
But the power to enjoy has grown in like degree, and both joy and pain
are subordinated to the power to act. The human will, the power to do,
is the real end of the stress and struggle of the ages. However limited
its individual action, the will finds its place among the gigantic factors
in the evolution of life. It is not the present, but the ultimate, which is
truth. Not the unstable and temporary fact but the boundless clashing
forces which endlessly throw truths to the surface.
Another source of Pessimism is the reaction from unearned pleasures
and from spurious joys. It is the business of the senses to translate
realities, to tell the truth about us in terms of human experience. Every
real pleasure has its cost in some form of nervous activity. What we get
we must earn, if it is to be really ours. Long ago, in the infancy of
civilization, man learned that there were drugs in Nature, cell products
of the growth or transformation of "our brother organisms, the plants,"
by whose agency pain was turned to pleasure. By the aid of these
outside influences he could clear "today of past regrets and future
fears," and strike out from the sad "calendar unborn tomorrow and dead
yesterday."
That the joys thus produced had no real objective existence, man was
not long in finding out, and it soon appeared that for each subjective
pleasure which had no foundation in action, there was a subjective
sorrow, likewise unrelated to external things.
But that the pains more than balanced the joys, and that the indulgence

in unearned deceptions destroyed sooner or later all capacity for
enjoyment, man learned more slowly.
The joys of wine,