The mystery of pain by James Hinton (PDF )

 The mystery of pain: a book for the sorrowful 

This book is addressed to the sorrowful. It may be there are some in whose lives pleasure so far overbalances pain, that the presence of the latter has never been felt by them as a mystery. It is probable that there are more who, through native strength of mind, or felicity of circumstance, are able to meet the questions that arise out of it with unoppressed hearts, and who have so strong a faith in the good that they can, without difficulty, resolve all forms of evil into it. To these I do not address myself; but there is another, and, I think, a more numerous class, to whom their own or others' pain is a daily burden, upon whose hearts it weighs with intolerable anguish. 


I seek to speak to these; not as a teacher, but as a fellow. Sharing their feeling, and knowing well how vain is the attempt to throw off misery, or to persuade ourselves that life is better than it is, I would fain share with them also some thoughts that have seemed to be capable of casting a bright gleam of light athwart the darkness, and, if they are true, of bringing an immense, an incredible joy out of the very bosom of distress. 

It seems to me, indeed, that nothing less than this will suffice; that pain must furnish its own consolation if it is to be consoled at all; or rather that it must give more than consolation — that it must give joy. If it can be made fruitful thus if rejoicing can be seen to be rooted in sorrow, not sometimes only, but absolutely, then at least one part of the mystery, and perhaps the hardest and the darkest part, would be gone. And this it is that I think I have seen and that I wish if I can be so happy, to show to those who need it more than myself, and who better than myself may profit by it.

Let me beg the patience of one class of sufferers, and their forbearance even, with some of the thoughts which are herein addressed to another. No one, I think, can have had much intercourse with those who have been called upon to suffer, without feeling that there are two different ways in which their pains most heavily assault them.

There are some in whom the fact that they and others are called on for endurance — even the endurance of unutterable pains — rouses no angry questionings, and excites no doubts. Their hearts may be bowed down to the earth, but they do not murmur; they think it natural that the ways of God should be beyond mortal fathoming, and that what would seem best to our narrow vision could not be truly good; in their deepest agony, they do not question righteousness. But there are others — I think they are the more — the chief poignancy of whose sufferings comes from an irrepressible doubt cf right, a burning passion to penetrate the impenetrable meaning of their anguish.

Reading in the Mystery of Pain

And there are thoughts which would do this; thoughts which are possible to us now — in some sense, indeed, now first possible to us, though open to all men since Christ and His apostles preached. Old thoughts, and yet new; as old as the gospel, yet taught us with fresh evidence and proof by the latest discoveries of science, which gather up the testimony of Nature to that good news, and bid us seek beyond the visible the secret of our life.  

It is true that no change in our thoughts can alter the nature of things, or invert the essential relations of pleasure and pain. No form of opinion can make bitter sweet, or cause the couch of suffering to be a grateful rest. Yet let us observe what is true on the other hand. It is in the power of knowledge very radically to determine our feelings, and sometimes to make the same things in a high degree pleasurable, or the reverse.  

Take, for example, the case of hypocritical pretence of friendship, and designing arts to procure our favour. Ignorant of their nature, these pretensions (if not too gross) might be sources of gratification to us; but the discovery of their true character makes them in the highest degree repulsive, nothing being altered but our knowledge. A similar effect may be produced in the opposite direction: the apparent aversion or coldness of a beloved person may be turned into a source of joy, if it be discovered to depend upon a real regard.  

It is in the power, therefore, of the discovery of an unknown or unregarded fact to alter our feelings, even to invert their natural character; to make unpleasing that which is naturally pleasant, or to render in the highest measure joyful that which is naturally repugnant. This power lies in knowledge where there has been ignorance. It does not alter our natural emotions: it still leaves (as in the cases supposed) the manifestations of regard agreeable in themselves, and the tokens of aversion in themselves the source of pain; but it can overrule these primary tendencies, eliciting feelings which are stronger within us than the sensational impressions.  

We may take another simple case: the loss of a small sum of money is a naturally painful thing; few persons could avoid a distinct emotion of annoyance from its occurrence. But let a generous man discover that through that loss a dear friend has been largely benefited, and his feeling is entirely changed; the vexation is lost in a stronger pleasure.  

It is therefore evident that knowledge might alter our whole feeling with respect to the world. The apparent good and evil of life constitute a case in which a truer understanding might invert the natural impression. We need not, therefore, be hopeless in presence of the problem of pain. Knowledge might alter its entire aspect. Nay, we are not limited to this general thought. For there is one condition under which all know that pain is not truly an evil, but a good. This is when pain is willingly borne for another’s sake. Its entire character is altered then.

Author: James Hinton 
Publication Date: 1872

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