3U^j*^i-i^^r*J^i."^X*^,^r^.*ltn r --Z '.-!"." ,,-■&.:.. •;.-: i.. a-•. - '::c;..r_. ~- ''£?;!£bCi^^£fr~v'-i: UNITED STATES OF AMERICA WASHINGTON, D. C GPO 16—67244-1 782413 ^ \s\sf n° A. %<>JtJbLaU*. .±4f S$P tM2a®S®tffl©Am V1BXAVISX ON THE PASSIONS. PHILOSOPHICAL TREATISE ^ i- ON THE IP A SStOtt % X FROM THE LAST LONDON EDITION. By T. COGAN, M. D. Format enim Natura prius nos intus ad omnem Fortunarum habitum.—Hor : de Arte Poetica. .&* ?4jV£ BOSTON : WELLS AND LILLY,--COURT-STREET. 1821. F- PREFACE. Amidst the numerous Branches of Knowledge which claim the attention of the human mind, no one can be more important than that which con- stitutes the subject of the following Treatise. Whatever most intimately concerns ourselves must be of the first moment. The principle of self-love, which is inherent in our nature, immediately sug- gests that no other species of knowledge can stand in competition with it. Every thing is justly deemed interesting which has an immediate re- lation to ourselves ; and the degrees of its impor- tance are measured by the degrees of its influence upon our Well-being. Therefore, to attend to the workings of our own minds; to trace the power which external objects have over us;—to discover the nature of our emotions and affections;—to comprehend the reason of our being affected in a particular manner, must have a direct influence upon our pursuits, our characters, and our happi- ness. VI PREFACE. It may with justice be advanced, that the history of ourselves in this department, is of much greater utility than abstruser speculations concerning the metaphysical nature of the human soul, or even the most accurate knowledge of its intellectual powers. For it is according as the passions and affections are excited; and directed towards the objects investigated by these intellectual powers, that we become useful to ourselves or others; that we rise into respectability or sink into contempt; that we diffuse or enjoy happiness, diffuse or suf- fer misery. An accurate Analysis of the passions and affec- tions, is to the Moralist, what the science of Anato- my is to the Surgeon. It constitutes the first prin- ciples of rational practice, it is in a moral view, the anatomy of the heart. It discovers why it beats, and how it beats; indicates appearances in a sound and healthy state; detects diseases with their cause; and it is infinitely more fortunate in the power it communicates of applying suitable reme- dies. Yet, notwithstanding the superior importance of this Science, it has not engaged the attention of philosophers, to an equal degree with the intel- lectual powers of man. Those who are conscious PREFACE. vii of the acuteness of their own intellects, have loved to employ them upon subjects the most difficult and abstruse. Their chief delight has been in the study of natures and essences ; and their ambition, to solve difficulties which have repeatedly occupied and embarrassed the strongest minds. Patient at- tention to facts appears to them an employment best adapted to plain and common understandings: it is the province of Genius to soar above the com- mon level, and penetrate the mists which surround the regions of intellect. When it is asserted that the passions of the mind have not employed the attention of the philosophic world, equally with the other branches which relate to Man, the assertion implies that they have not been totally neglected. Philosophers, in their study of human nature, have not passed them over in silence. They have treated them occasionally, but generally speaking, superficially; chiefly as ap- pendages to their other philosophical pursuits. This circumstance, it is acknowledged, has been productive of a train of thought peculiar to each speculator; and thus has each been able to throw some light upon a subject, which it was not his sole or primary object to investigate. vm PREFACE. Among the Authors who have paid the most at- tention to the subject, Professor Hutcheson, Dr. Watts, Mr. Grove, the Writer of the Article " on the Passions of Men," in the British Encyclopaedia, and Mr. Hume, may justly be placed in the first rank. The observations of Mr. Hutcheson chiefly respect the moral uses of the Passions, which it is not the professed object of the present Treatise to investigate. Objections to some of the principles advanced by Dr. Watts, and Mr. Grove, as well as other Writers of eminence, are stated in the Intro- ductory Chapter, and will occasionally appear in different parts of this Work. It will therefore be sufficient to remark at present, that the very small degree of information obtained respecting many essential points; the imperfection of every arrange- ment hitherto made ; the almost universal disagree- ment among philosophers, in their ideas concerning the precise nature of a Passion, Emotion, and Af- fection, or in what respect they specifically differ from each other, &c. were the principal induce- ments to the Author of the following Treatise, to pay much greater attention to the workings of the human mind, than he would have done, had their remarks been more satisfactory. In order to find his way through perplexing labyrinths, he was de- PREFACE. IX termined to extend the analytical method much farther than it has hitherto been pursued ; from a full conviction that, although it is not in general the most popular and acceptable mode, it is much the securest, and best adapted to procure a strength of evidence, in philosophical, moral, and religious subjects, which approaches to the nature of demon- stration. The Treatise now submitted to public candour, contains the history and the result of this process; in which, however slow and tedious the steps, the Author has been frequently relieved, and some- times amply rewarded, by discoveries which ap- peared to him equally new and important. If they should appear so to others, he will feel him- self completely recompensed for his labour. As he is not without apprehensions that the analytical part will appear much too tedious and prolix, thus he fears that the philosophical observa- tions and inquiries will appear much too superfi- cial ; but he would remind the Reader that his sole object in the present treatise, is to give an epitome of general and influential principles, and not to pursue the development of any to the extent of which it is susceptible. 2 X PREFACE. The natural consequences of this immediate ap- plication to the genuine sources of knowledge, without any pre-conceived hypothesis, are, that, in some instances, the author has traced a perfect coincidence of opinion between his own and those of preceding Writers on the Passions; in many, he has corrected his own previous ideas ; in others, he thinks that he has not only discovered errors in preceding Writers, but also the causes of them. Wherever the subject has appeared peculiarly im- portant, the discrepancy great, and the Authorities opposed, respectable, he has stated the subject, and his reasons in the adjoined Notes; that the conca- tenation of ideas, so necessary in the analytical method, might not suffer interruption. Notwithstanding his utmost care, the Analyzer cannot flatter himself that nothing of importance has escaped his attention. Both the extent and in- tricacy of the subject will, it is hoped, furnish an apology for many defects. Nor can he expect that of the numerous explanations and definitions pro- posed, they will all be equally acceptable and con- vincing. Some of them will probably be errone- ous. But it may not be improper to remark, that the extraordinary versatility of language renders it extremely difficult to seize the precise signification PREFACE. xi of terms, in every connection ; and this will some- times occasion a diversity of opinion, in cases where a criterion cannot always be found to which our judgments will uniformly submit. If the Rea- der should not agree with him in the precise signi- fication of particular terms, the utmost care hag been taken that the sense in which the Author has used them shall not be misunderstood : so that the principles he advances must either enforce convic- tion, or lay themselves fully open to confutation. The copiousness of the subject has principally confined the Work before us to a philosophical in- vestigation of the Passions. Yet in these abtruser investigations, many thoughts occasionally present themselves, properly belonging to the departments of Ethics, and requiring a larger amplification than would be consistent with the design of the present work. The Science of Ethics opens a field for contemplation still more extensive. Although it has so frequently engaged the attention of Moral- ists, it appears to be inexhaustible ; nor ought we to despair of perpetual additions being added to our stock of knowledge, concerning the nature and importance of our duty. xii PREFACE. The degree of acceptance with which this 1 rea- lise has been received by the Philosophic World, encouraged the Author to prosecute his design, and he proceeded to consider the Passions and Affec- tions in a more practical, and perhaps still more interesting point of view. The apprehensions which naturally present themselves, lest public ex- pectation should not be gratified, by much novelty, on a subject which has been so frequently treated, are in some measure silenced by a conviction that his attempts will be received with an indulgence similar to that which he has already experienced. Although attention has been paid in these subse- quent editions to several minuter corrections, yet the Author has been reluctant to make such altera- tions in them as might depreciate the value of the preceding, in the opinion of the Purchasers. The most considerable change consists in the divisions of the first two Chapters: the new Arrangements, and introductory Emotions being placed at the commencement of the second Chapter instead of terminating theirs*; by which he thinks that a more lucid order is preserved. Several additions might have been made, but as these could, with equal propriety, be inserted in a future Volume, that mode has been preferred. 'w: PART I. ANALYSIS OF THE PASSIONS. CHAPTER I. GENERAL VIEW OF THE SUBJECT. Pag* Sect. I. On Passions, Emotions, and Affections; the specific difference between them.....17 II. Plans of Arrangement examined . . . .31 III. Love and Hatred ; their Nature . 37 IV. Desire and Aversion . . . . . . 47 V. Objects of Love and Hatred • . . • . 51 CHAPTER II. CLASSIFICATION OP THE PASSIONS ACCORDING TO THEIR CHARACTER- ISTIC DIFFERENCES. Sect. I. Efficient Causes of the Passions, &c. examined . 55 Sect. II. Introductory Emotions......59 Sect. III. Classification of the Passions and Affections, as they respect the Selfish or the Social Principle . . 70 XIV CONTENTS. CLASS I. Page PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS, WHICH OWE THEIR ORIGIN TO THE 70 PRINCIPLE OF SELF-LOVE.....Iu Order I. passions and affections, &c. excited by the idea 71 OF GOOD........' Joy, Gladness, &c........ibid Contentment.....• • .74 Satisfaction.....• l0™ Complacency ....«•••'*' Pride, &c.........79 Desire.........^1 Hope.........94 Order II. passions and affections excited bt the idea of evil...... . . 97 1. Sorrow..........98 Grief, Melancholy, &c. . . . . . 99 Patience, Resignation, Humility .... 101 2. Fear..........104 Consternation, Terror, Dread, Despair, &c. &c. . 109 3. Anger..........112 Wrath, Resentment, Indignation, &c. &c. . . 116 CLASS II. PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS DERIVED FROM THE SOCIAL PRINCIPLE 121 Order L- passions and affections, in which good is the pre- dominant IDEA . . ... 127 I. Benevolent Desires and Dispositions . . . ibid 1. Social Affections......128 2. Sympathetic Affections . . . . ]31 II. Affections derived from Good Opinion . . . 143 Gratitude........144 Admiration........145 Esteem, Respect ... . . 151 Veneration, &c........ 152 Fondness, &c........154 CONTENTS. XV Order II. passions and affections in which evil is the pre- dominant idea . , ... 155 I. Malevolent Desires and Dispositions . . . 156 Malignancy, Envy, Rancour, Cruelty, &c. . . .157 Rage, Revenge, &c. Suspicion, Jealousy . . . 164 II. Displacency indicated by unfavourable opinions . . 168 Horror, Indignation, Contempt, &c.....169 PART II. philosophical observations and inquiries, CHAPTER I. observations respecting the laws op excitement . . 180 Observation I. Surprise the efficient Cause of Passion . ibid II. Affections alone permanent . . . 182 III. Relations of Passions and Affections to each other ... .... 187 IV. Seat of the Passions.....199 CHAPTER II. CAUSES WHICH CREATE A DIVERSITY IN OUR AFFECTIONS, ENUME- RATED .........212 } 1. Experience......213 § 2. Difference of Sex ...... 214 § 3. Diversity of Temperament . . . 219 § 4. Progress from Infancy to Age . . . 221 J 5. National Customs . . . . . 224 § 6. Force of Habit.....227 § 7. Self-Love.......229 J 8. Education.....r 231 \ 9. Novelty.......234 } 10. Fashion.......235 } 11. Love of Singularity.....238 § 12. Popular Prejudices.....240 8 13. Associated Affections.....242 XVI CONTENTS. Page 5 14. Manner in which information is conveyed . 247 § 15. Imitative Tones and Representations . 250 § 16. Rhetoric, Oratory, Eloquence . • . 2o3 § 17. The Drama......257 \ 18. Pre-disposing Causes . . • . . 258 CHAPTER III. INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS. Sect. I. Medical Influence.......265 II. Influence on Thought and Language . . .283 III. Influence on Character......292 IV. Influence on Happiness ..•••• 300 PART I. CHAPTER I. GENERAL VIEW OF THE SUBJECT. SECTION I. ON PASSIONS, EMOTIONS, AND AFFECTIONS J THE SPECIFIC DIFFER- ENCE BETWEEN THEM. Jjy Passions, emotions, and affections, we under- stand those stronger or weaker feelings, with their correspondent effects upon the system, which are excited within us, by the perception or contempla- tion of certain qualities, which belong, or are sup- posed to belong, to the objects of our attention; and which, in some respect or other, appear inte- resting to us. In all cases, when the violence of the emotion is not too powerful for the animal ceco- my, the feelings or sensations excited, are pleasant or unpleasant, according to the nature of the excit- ing cause, the ideas entertained of it, or the intense- ness with which the mind is struck by it. These feelings differ in degrees of strength, according to the apparent importance of their cause ; according to certain peculiarities of temperament; and also 3 18 PASSIONS. according to the manner in which the influential qualities are presented to the mind. One or other of the three terms, Passion, Emo- tion, Affection, is always employed to express the sensible effects which objects, or ideas concern- ing them, have upon the mind; but they are so fre- quently employed in a vague and indeterminate manner, that some difficulty attends the attempt to restore them to their precise and discriminating sig- nifications. The word, Passion, is thus rendered subject to several peculiarities, in the application of it. Some- times it is used in a generic sense, as expressive of every impression made upon the mind. When we speak of the passions in general, or of a treatise on the passions, we mean not to express the stronger impressions alone, the mildest affections are also in- cluded ; and if we denominate any one to be a per- son of strong passions, we mean that he is subject to violent transports of joy, or grief, or anger, &c. indiscriminately. In one instance the word is em- phatically employed to express suffering; as our Saviour's passion : in another it indicates anger ex- clusively ; thus when it is said of any one that he is in a passion, it is universally understood that he is very angry. The term passion, and its adverb passionately, often express a very strong predilection for any pursuit, or object of taste ; a kind of enthu- siastic fondness for any thing. Thus we remark that a person has a passion for music, or that he is passionately fond of painting, he. &c. In a sense PASSIONS. Is similar to this, is the word also applied to every propensity, which operates strongly and permanent- ly upon the mind ; as the selfish passions, the gene- rous passions. Yet when we mean to particularize any of these, a different law of phraseology is ob- served. The word passion is appropriated by the evil propensities which are uniformly operative. Thus we do not say, the affection of pride, or of avarice, but the passion. The term, affection, on the other hand, is appropriated by the virtuous pro- pensities ; as the social, friendly, parental, filial, affections, &c. though philosophically considered, the relation they bear to the state and workings of the mind, is perfectly analogous. Nor is this capricious latitude of expression con- fined to common language, where accuracy is not always to be expected; it is also obvious among philosophers themselves, so that scarcely two authors, who have written upon the subject of the passions, are agreed in their ideas of the terms they employ. While some consider the emo- tions as highly turbulent, others assert that they are in their own nature quiescent :*—Some sup- pose a Passion to constitute the strength of an emotion ; others confine the idea of a passion to the desire which follows an emotion:—Others again represent the Passions as the calmest things in nature, deeming them to be the steady uniform principles of action, to which reason itself is always * Lord Kaims. 20 PASSIONS. subservient.* Hence it becomes highly necessary7 to seek after some rules, which may render our ideas more consistent and uniform. In most of these applications, «no attention has been paid to the primitive signification of the word Passion; although this appears to be the safest method to recall us from those aberrations to which we are perpetually exposed. Few expressions wander so far from their original import, as to con- vey a sense which is totally foreign. The primary idea annexed to the word is that of passiveness, or being impulsively acted upon. In this sense the term properly signifies the sensible effect, the feel- ing to which the mind is become subjected, when an object of importance, suddenly and imperiously, demands its attention. If our imaginations be lively, our temperaments susceptible, the object in- teresting to us, we cannot avoid being affected, or suffering some powerful change in our dispositions, by its recent appearance, or by the suggestion of a something we deem of importance. In all such cases we are obviously passive; we are acted upon without any previous determination of the will, or without any consent of our own. As several of our passions are of a disagreeable and painful nature, and as this passive or helpless state is so frequently connected with suffering, the transition from one signification to the other, is not only natural but almost inevitable; and Passion will often be considered as synonymous with Suf- * Mr. Hume. PASSIONS. 21 Jering. In medical language, a person oppressed with disease is called a Patient, an involuntary suf- ferer, and the calmness with which he submits is termed patience; that is, the mind yields with tran- quillity to the pains and indispositions of the body. The word, Pathology, has also the same derivation: it is the history of the sufferings incident to the hu- man frame. The Greeks expressed passions in general by ito&w, which signifies suffering; and the Latin word Passio, from which we have adopted the term passion, has the same signification. The Stoics also gave the name of arafijj to all extraordi- nary emotions of the soul, because they considered them as mental diseases, by which the soul, while under their influence, was reduced to a state of suf- fering. But this secondary sense, as far as it con- veys the idea of an unpleasant or painful sensa- tion, is alone applicable to the effects produced by passions of a certain class ; for others are in their own nature pleasing; as joy and hope: whereas the primitive import of the word, that of passive- ness, equally belongs to them all. The mind is equally passive in every effect suddenly and unex- pectedly produced upon it, whether its influence be of a pleasant, or unpleasant nature. (See Note A.) The term, Passion, therefore, may with strict pro- priety be used, and used exclusively, to represent the first feeling, the percussion as it were, of which the mind is conscious from some impulsive cause; by which it is wholly acted upon, without any ef- forts of its own, either to solicit or escape the im- pression. 22 EMOTIONS. Probably it is in allusion to this passive state of the mind, that the terms passion, and passionately, are employed to express the powerful attachment to particular objects mentioned above. They insi- nuate that the influence of these beloved objects, is irresistible ; and that the mind is completely un- der their dominion. The state of absolute passiveness, in conse- quence of any sudden percussion of mind, is of short duration. The strong impression, or vivid sensation, immediately produces a reaction corres- pondent to its nature, either to appropriate and en- joy, or to avoid and repel the exciting cause. This reaction is very properly distinguished by the term Emotion. The sensible effect produced at the first instant, by the cause of the passion, greatly agitates the frame; its influence is immediately communicated to the whole nervous system, and the commotions excited in that, indicate themselves by attitudes and motions of the body, and by par- ticular expressions of countenance. These effects are such universal concomitants, that no very im- portant change in the state of the mind can take place, without some visible change, of a corres- pondent nature, in the animal ceconomy. Emotions therefore, according to the genuine signification of the word, are principally and primi- tively applicable to the sensible changes and visible effects, which particular passions produce upon the frame, in consequence of this reaction, or partial- EMOTIONS. 23 lar agitation of mind. It is alone by these visible effects that the subject is discovered to be under the influence of any passion ; and it is alone by the particular changes produced, or kind of emotion, that we are enabled to judge of the nature of the passion. Thus, although the passion exists prior to the emotions, yet as these are its external signs, they must indicate its continued influence, as long as they continue to agitate the system. In conse- quence of this immediate connection, the words passions and emotions, are, in familiar discourse, where no philosophical precision is requisite, used synonymously; though, in reality, the latter are uniformly the effects of the former. Here, as in innumerable other instances, figurative modes of expression are adopted. The Synecdoche is per- petually employed, by which, cause and effect are confounded, or substituted the one for the other, Since emotions are faithful indications of their correspondent passions, and strong passions are always productive of emotions, we should deem it a pedantic precision to select, at all times, the ap- propriate word, when we mean simply to express the general effect. However, the term Emotion is sometimes ex- pressive of lively sensations which do not produce visible effects, in any degree proportionate to their feelings. In emotions the mind is not so complete- ly, or necessarily passive. In general it possesses some power over the external signs; and in many 24 AFFECTIONS. cases, where the feelings would be too strong to re- main concealed, were they totally void of controul, some other influential affection, either of fear, re- spect, humanity, &c. may serve to repress or mo- derate their effects, and confine them to inward emotions. Again, the term is frequently employed to mark the first impression, which particular objects make upon susceptible minds, whether they remain con- cealed or not. Thus in the fine Arts, the charms of musical compositions which are novel to us;— the first view of a gallery of paintings possessing distinguished merit;—the surprise of a beautiful or elevated sentiment, or poetic description, will gene- rally make a more vivid impression upon us, than that which is felt in a continued, or renewed con- templation of the same subjects ; and yet these im- pressions may not be so forcible is obvious that the other comprehends every species of desire, whether of a mental or corporeal nature. Metaphysicians 30 APPETITES. also, who have written in the Latin language, use the word Appetitus in the same latitude. The modern distinction has the advantage of im- mediately pointing out a difference in the nature and character of the objects which interest us, ac- cording as they relate to the body or to the mind. But although we shall consider the appetites as confined to corporeal wants and cravings, we must still observe that they are as frequently the occasions of passions and emotions, as other objects which are peculiarly adapted to the mind. Eager hope, joy, fear, anger, are daily manifested by the Infant, whose desires are wholly confined to animal wants: and the keenest sensations of anger, jealousy, envy, &c. are intimately connected with the carnal Appetites of maturer age. Whatever is therefore beyond the mere instinctive appetite, becomes the province of the mind; and the influence which various cravings of nature have upon its ideas and conceptions, give rise to mental affections and pas- sions. The subject of the present discussion obvi- ously relates to these, without requiring particular attention to the existing cause. ARRANGEMENTS EXAMINED. 31 SECTION II. PLANS OF ARRANGEMENT EXAMINED. So numerous and multifarious are the Passions, Affections, and Emotions, in their connections and ramifactions, that it is difficult to propose a plan of Arrangement, which shall be, in every respect, unexceptionable. By preferring one meth- od, we may be deprived of some advantages at- tending another ; and in all, it may be necessary to anticipate many things, which a rigid attention to order could not possibly permit. Some Wri- ters on the Passions, have placed them in contrast to each other, as hope and fear, joy and sorrow:— Some have considered them as they are personal, relative, social :—Some according to their influ- ence at different periods of life :—Others accord- ing as they relate to past, present, or future time ; as sorrow principally refers to things past, joy and anger to present scenes, hope and fear respect futurity. The Academicians advanced that the principal passions were fear, hope, joy, and grief. Thus Virgil: Hinc metuunt, cupiunt, gaudentque, dolentque. They included aversion and despair under the fourth ; and hope, fortitude, and anger, under de- sire. But not to observe that this arrangement is much too general in some respects, and defective in 35 ARRANGEMENTS EXAMINED. others ;—that the characters of hope and of anger are too opposite to each other, to be placed under the same head ;—that anger has no particular claim to be classed with desire, excepting when it excites a desire of revenge, which is not always the case;—and that desire is so comprehensive a term as to embrace numberless other affections ;—n^ to insist upon these objections, it is manifest that «he passions enumerated cannot be primitive or cardi- nal, since some other affections or passions must be prior to them : We must love, or hate, before we can either desire, rejoice, or fear, or grieve. Dr. Hartley has arranged the Passions under five grateful, and five ungrateful ones. The grate- ful ones, are love, desire, hope, joy, and pleasing recollection ; the ungrateful are hatred, aversion, fear, grief, displeasing recollection. The objec- tions to this order are, that ali these cannot be con- sidered as cardinal passions. Love must precede desire, hope, and joy ; and hatred must precede fear. Nor do the distinctions themselves appear sufficiently accurate. Hope is certainly a species of desire ; pleasing recollection is a modification of love; aversion is only a particular manner of testifying hatred ; and displeasing recollections are sometimes the renewal of grief, sometimes of anger. Dr. Watts divides the Passions into primitive and derivative. The primiiive he subdivides into two ranks : 1. Admiration, love, and hatred ; 2. ARRANGEMENTS EXAMINED. 33 The diverse kinds of love and hatred, as esteem, contempt, benevolence, malevolence, complacency, displacency. The derivatives are desire, aversion, hope, fear, gratitude, anger, &c. But the title of Admiration to be considered as a primitive passion, does not appear to be so valid as that of the other two associated with it. Love and hatred are in universal exercise ; Admiration is merely occasional. The former indicate them- selves from the instant we have any powers of dis- cernment, or the smallest degree of experience, respecting the nature of objects ; the latter is the result of some degree of knowledge : it implies a spirit of inquiry ; and demands some portion of taste for particular qualities, adapted to excite this emotion. Minds the most infantile, and unculti- vated, will manifest that they love and hate, long before they have an opportunity of testifying their admiration. We might also observe, that a subdi- vision of the primitive passions into two ranks creates a suspicion, if it do not fully indicate, that they cannot all be equally primitive ; and the in- stances given under the second rank, may justly be considered as different modifications of the two grand principles, and not as primitives of a distinct character. It is farther obvious, that the Doctor's plan makes no distinction between the Passions and Affections, which the nature of the subject not only admits but requires. 5 34 ARRANGEMENTS EXAMINED. Mr. Grove, adopting in part, the arrangement of Dr. Watts, reduces all the passions to the three heads of admiration, love, and hatred ; which he styles accordingly, the primitive passions. The others he denominates mixed passions ; which he describes to be those which have admiration blend- ed with them, and those compounded of the pas- sions that fall under love and hatred. As the above remarks are no less applicable to this arrange- ment, I shall only observe, that since Mr. Grove has defined admiration to be " That sudden surprise " at the novelty of an object, by which the soul is " fastened down to the contemplation of it," there seems to be a peculiar impropriety in his placing it among the primitive passions : and this improprie- ty is increased by another observation which he makes, viz. that " Admiration seems to be a more " speculative passion, as being employed chiefly " about the novelty or grandeur of objects." For which reason he places the chief energy of this passion, " in the brain," which he denominates " the grand instrument, or condition rather, of " thought and contemplation." He adds, " in the " other passions, which respecting the good or evil " of objects, proceed from a principle of self-pre- " servation, the spirits agitated are in the heart, the " fountain of life, and fittest residence of those " motions of the animal spirits, which are intended " for the benefit and preservation of life."* *■ Sea System of Moral Philosophy ; Chap. VII. of the Passii ARRANGEMENTS EXAMINED. 35 These observations certainly increase the diffi- culty of admitting admiration among the primitive passions. It may also be justly doubted whether the author's ideas of the nature of admiration be always admissible. But this is not the place to discuss that point. The above comments upon the most material arrangements which have hitherto been followed, render some other classification desirable, which may be exempt from similar objections. Perhaps the securest method to obtain this end, will be previously to recollect, what is the first and leading principle of our nature; and then enquire what are the necessary consequences of this principle, in beings formed as we are, placed in various situa- tions, and surrounded by an infinite variety of circumstances. By thus attending to the history of the human mind, and tracing the manner in which it is affected by various causes, a proper arrangement may present itself. We shall, at least, avoid those mistakes and embarrassments, into which men of eminence have been betrayed, by pursuing other methods. It will be universally acknowledged, that it is essential to the nature of every sensitive and intelligent being, to be gratified with, or delight in Well-being. This is so evident a principle, that the contrary cannot be supposed for a moment. Both reason and feeling unite to establish this 36 ARRANGEMENTS EXAMINED. axiom. We all feel the inestimable value of happiness, and we all know that to delight in misery, is a contradiction : it would be to annihi- late misery. (See Note C.) This Well-being, or grateful state of existence, we unite to denominate an essential Good; and its opposite an essential Lvil. Whatever promotes this state, we deem to be productive of good ; whatever is an impediment to it, or occasions a state of uneasy sensation, we consider as productive of evil. These ideas naturally lead us to esteem that as a Good also, which is productive of this desirable state; and to characterize as an Evil, whatever is inimical to it. Cause and effect are so intimately connected in our imagination, that we not only substitute the one for the other, by a figurative mode of speaking, but we quickly learn to con- sider that as a good in itself, which appears uni- formly to be the means or instrument of good; and ito contemplate as an Evil, whatever we suspect to have a pernicious tendency. Under the impression of this sentiment, we indulge a predi- lection for the one, and feel an abhorrence of the other. It is impossible for the attentive and considerate mind to view or contemplate objects so diametri- cally opposite as apparent Good, or apparent Evil, either with total indifference, or with the same LOVE AND HATRED. 37 kind of sensation. We inevitably look upon what we deem to be a Good, or conducive to happiness, with a pleasant sensation. We deem it desirable, and it inspires the affection of Love. Whatever occasions, or threatens a privation of happiness, or inflicts positive misery, we view with displeasure, we consider it as injurious, or as an absolute evil, and it inspires the affection of Hatred : that is, we feel a strong attachment of the heart to what- ever may contribute to Well-being, and we con- template the reverse with feelings of displeasure, detestation, and abhorrence. > Although it may be said, without impropriety, that we all love to be happy, and hate to be miserable ; yet this is such a self-evident truth, that it is very seldom uttered. The two express- ions therefore, Love and Hatred, are almost entirely applied to the cause, means, or instru- ments of well-being or wretchedness ; and we are habituated to love whatever is instrumental to our existing in a desirable state, and to hate its opposite. SECTION III. LOVE AND HATRED; THEIR NATURE. These two affections arise, immediately and inevitably, from our perpetual solicitude to enjoy 38 LOVE AND HATRED. the existence we possess. They are coeval with our ideas of Good and Evil. They are experi- enced by every one, in every situation, and in every period of life. They are inspired by every object which possesses some peculiarity, or is apparently endowed with some quality, of a bene- ficial or a pernicious tendency; that is, by what- ever is able, according to our conceptions, to pro- mote or impede enjoyment or happiness : from the smallest gratification up to the most exalted felicity; from the smallest discomfiture, to the depth of misery. They are also the parents of every other passion and affection ; and the history of the hu- man mind is no other than a developement of their operations, in that diversity of situations and cir- cumstances, in which it may be occasionally plac- ed. These characters will undoubtedly entitle them to the denomination oi primary or cardinal affections. As no others are in the same predicament, they cannot deserve the same appellations; for they can only be considered as derived from these. We cannot therefore, commence our minute in- quiry into the passions, with greater probability of success, than by paying previous attention to these two affections. I. LOVE. Love may be considered either as a principle or as an Affection. As a principle, it may be de- LOVE. 39 fined an invariable preference of Good ; an " univer- sal and permanent attachment to Well being " or Happiness." In this point of view it has already been considered. It has also been remark- ed, that the love of good, and solicitude to procure it, is not only the ruling principle of every sentient being, but it meets with the fall approbation of every rational being. For nothing can excel that which is Good, and nothing can be valuable, but as it has a tendency to promote it. Hence when we speak of love abstractedly, we call it the Prin- ciple of love : for it is the principle by which the whole tenour of our conduct is directed ; and it retains that appellation, as long as we speak of it as a general principle of action. When this principle is directed towards any particular object it becomes an Affection; that is, the mind becomes well disposed, or pleasingly af- fected towards that object; and whenever this love is more violent in its effects upon the system, it is even deemed a Passion. The affection will be diversified, and acquire various characters, according to the nature of the object, or the peculiar qualities it may seem to possess ; and also according to its various relations. This affection may relate to ourselves ; to those with whom we are connected, by the closest bonds of nature or intimacy ; to the whole of our species; to those beings of inferior order in the creation, which are rendered capable of possessing any por- tion of enjoyment; and even to things inanimate. 40 LOVE. When the affection of Love immediately relates to ourselves personally, it is called Self-love ; and it marks the peculiar concern and solicitude we en- tertain for our own interest, prosperity, or enjoy- ment. The principle of Self-love generally ope- rates with the greatest force upon the mind ; for every circumstance which affects our own happi- ness, makes the most vivid impressions. This is naturally the source of many abuses which have brought the term itself into disrepute. But Self- affection, when it does not interfere with the claims of others, is not only an innocent affection, but it manifests the wisdom and benevolence of the great Source of good. By rendering every Being active in the pursuit of his own happiness, the greatest quantum of general good is most effectually secur- ed. As the largest communities consist of Indi- viduals, were each individual to seek his own wel- fare, without prejudice to his neighbour, the indi- vidual stock of each would render happiness univer- sal. (See Note D.) When our love or desire of Good goes forth to others, it is termed Good will, or Benevolence. This usually operates with various degrees of force, according to our various connections and degrees of intimacy. It may possibly render the interest and happiness of those with whom we are more immediately connected, by the bonds of nature or friendship, equally dear to us as our own. It LOVE. 41 has, in some instances, been known to exert a more powerful influence. Of this truth, the love of Parents towards their own offspring frequently presents us with striking instances. Admiration of personal excellencies, habits of intimacy, gratitude for benefits received, &c. may also increase our attachment to individuals, until it rival the natural influence of self-love. All these powerful ties are usually characterized by the term Affection ; as the conjugal, parental, filial affections; and those who possess these at- tachments, in an exemplary degree, are termed af- fectionate parents, children, relatives, friends. When love extends to the whole human race, it is termed Philanthropy; a principle which com- prehends the whole circle of social and moral vir- tues. Considering every man as his neighbour, and loving his neighbour as truly and invariably as he loves himself, the Philanthropist cannot be un- just or ungenerous. In its utmost extent, the love of Benevolence embraces all beings capable of enjoying any por- tion of good; and thus it becomes universal Be- nevolence : which manifests itself by being pleased with the share of good every creature enjoys ;—in a disposition to increase it;—in feeling an uneasi- ness at their sufferings ;—and in the abhorrence of cruelty, under every disguise, or pretext. 6 42 LOVE. When these dispositions are acting powerfully, towards every being capable of enjoyment, they are called the benevolent affections ; and as these be- come, in those who indulge them, operative rules of conduct, or principles of action, we speak of the benevolent principle. It has been remarked, that predilection for Good, as the end, enstamps a value upon the means pro- ductive of this end. This creates an affection for various qualities and propensities, which we pro- nounce to be Good, when they possess the power, or indicate the disposition to promote happiness or enjoyment. If these be eminently good qualities, we call them Excellencies ; and if they be con- nected with the characters and conduct of moral agents, they are moral excellencies. From the habitual pleasure which the contem- plation of Excellence inspires, without our advert- ing perpetually to the benefits which may accrue from it, we may be induced to imagine that we love things deemed excellent, for their own sakes, abstracted from their power of becoming useful. But this is impossible. Every excellence contains a capacity to possess or to communicate good. Nothing which deserves the name, can be in its own nature inert. An useless excellence is a con- tradiction. The propensity to love what is productive of good, extends itself much farther than to the HATRED. 43 powers and properties of moral agents. We natu- rally acquire an attachment to every object, animate or inanimate, which has been the habitual instru- ment of good to us. or is capable of contributing to our gratification or advantage. Their latent pow- ers first induce us to value them as treasures in re- serve ; our opinion of their capacity to become serviceable, inclines us to place our affections upon them ; and in process of time, they will, by the association of ideas, excite pleasing emotions, although their powers of utility are not always in our recollection. (See Note E.) II. HATRED. Hatred expresses the manner in which we are affected, by our perception of whatever we suppose to be an Evil. It is not confined to absolute suf- fering ; it marks also our abhorrence of whatever exposes to the danger of absolute suffering, or the diminution of that portion of good we enjoy, or wish to possess. Hatred of misery and its causes, is a natural and necessary consequence of our solicitude to possess Good; and the affection of Hatred is as naturally*inspired by that state, conduct, dispo- sition, which is productive of, or threatens to induce pernicious or disagreeable consequences, as the affection of Love is attached to their contra- 44 HATRED. ries. Nor is our hatred at all times confined to that particular quality, or peculiarity of circum- stance, which is immediately unfriendly to us. It is apt to raise unpleasant ideas, and to create prejudices against many things, which in them- selves are far from being the objects of hatred, and whieh may be highly advantageous, merely because they have been displeasing or injurious to us in particular instances. As our predilection for whatever proves acceptable, will often prevent our discerning its pernicious qualities, thus do we frequently extend our hatred far beyond the just limits, until we betray our ignorance, or manifest that we are under the dominion of invincible prejudice. Personal Hatred, or Malevolence towards an individual, commences with some circumstance, quality, or disposition which is displeasing to us; or with some species of injury committed or in- tended. It has these for its professed objects. But here als» a quick and powerful transition is instantaneously made, in our imaginations, from < an incidental blemish, to the whole of character; —from a single act, we are prone to form unfa- vourable sentiments of general conduct;—and the lively sense of an injury annihilates too .frequent- ly every species of merit in the offender. This is obviously the source of hatreds, long and inveterate. HATRED. 45 But notwithstanding these excesses and exagge- rations of Hatred and Malevolence, yet they can- not possibly be so extensive in their operations as the principle of Love. The affection of Hatred has particular and partial evils alone for its objects, while the principle of Love may embrace the universe. As nutritious aliments are infinitely more numerous than the substances which are of a poisonous quality, thus does the number of those things which are pleasing, beneficial, impor- tant in their nature, infinitely exceed those which are either in themselves comfortless, or detrimen- tal, or calculated to foster a malevolent disposition. The true object of Hatred is alone some particular and partial evil, which we experience or dread; —some incidental interruption to the usual tenour of our feelings;—or some pernicious quality which may threaten this interruption. The objects of our fears, our anger, or our grief, are considered in the light of robberies, or painful privations, and not as permanent causes of the malevolent affec- tions. They are not looked upon as streams perpetually flowing from one inexhaustible source, but as interruptions to an usual or desirable state, by adventitious causes. Happiness appears to be our birth-right, of which all the painful sensations raised by hatred, are the professed guardians. The wish for happiness is perpetual and unlimited, while our evil affections expire with the causes which gave them existence. Nor can malevolence 4G HATRED. extend itself to every individual in the creation, in a manner similar to the contrary virtue. That happy cultivation of our nature, which inspires a benevolence towards all animated beings, cannot possibly have a perfect contrast, or complete pa- rallel, in the most uncultivated and brutalized. This would constitute a ferocity of character which can scarcely be found in the most insane. When tyrants, cruel and ferocious, are diffusing misery, in the wantonness of their power, their conduct does not proceed from an abstract princi- ple of universal hatred ;—but from some low policy of self-defence;—from an infernal spirit of revenge for supposed injuries;—from inordinate self-love, which creates an insensibility to human woes ;—from pride, vanity, and excessive igno- rance, which induce men to imagine that they shall be revered as deities, because they imitate the destructive thunder of heaven; and to dream that their favourite idol Power, can only be made known and established, bv deeds which excite consternation and horror! Indeed the affection of Hatred is of so unpleas- ant a nature, that the Being who could hate every thing, would be his own tormentor. The sole pleasure of which malevolence is capable, proceeds from the gratification of revenge ; which can only be directed against particular objects. Nor is it merely bounded; it is irritating, unsatisfactory, and purchased by the sacrifice of all the enjoy- ments which flow from the contrary disposition. DESIRE AND AVERSION. 47 SECTION. IV. . DESIRE AND AVERSION. With the affections of Love and Hatred, are in- timately connected the affections of Desire and Aversion. That is, we constantly desire, and are solicitous to possess or accomplish, whatever is pleasing or beneficial; and we are averse from, and endeavour to shun, whatever is displeasing, or threatens to be pernicious. These two affections are therefore the necessary consequences of the preceding. They are accompanied with a certain eagerness of mind, either to obtain or escape, which is not so essential to the former. Love and Hatred may be inspired by a calmer contemplation of ex- cellence or demerit, or any of the causes of happi- ness or misery, without our having an immediate interest in them ;—as when we reflect upon benefi- cial discoveries or destructive errors. The princi- ple of Love may approve of worthy conduct or re- spectable characters, from which we can expect no benefit to ourselves ; and that of hatred may de- spise villanies by which we cannot be injured. Desire and Aversion refer to particular objects, which have some relation to ourselves; and they are indicated by some effort of mind, either to pos- sess the promised good, or to repel the impending evil. Desire and Aversion are to be considered 48 DESIRE AND AVERSION. therefore as manifestations of love and hatred; and the earnest application of these principles, in each particular instance of their excitement. As Love and Hatred may be resolved into that one principle, the love of Well-being, thus may the affections of Desire and Aversion be resolved into Desire : although the use of both terms is, in com- mon language, necessary, in order to distinguish the objects of our pursuit, from those we wish to shun. Strictly speaking, Aversion is no other than a particular modification of Desire; a desire of being liberated from whatever appears injurious to well-being. The objects in our possession, produc- tive of this good, we desire to retain. We are conscious of this desire every time we appreciate the worth of the object, and it is necessarily excit- ed when we are under the apprehensions of priva- tion. If the Good, or the means of good, be not in our possession, we desire to obtain them : if a privation be unjustly attempted by any one, and the passion of anger be excited, the desire of pre- serving or recovering the object, is connected with a desire to chastise the aggressor : if it be in dan- ger from any other cause, the fear of loss is excited by the desire of securing ; and if we be actually deprived, the hopeless desire of regaining, is an es- sential ingredient in our grief for the loss. But although, in this philosophical sense, Desire may seem to be equally extensive with the affection DESIRE AND AVERSION. 49 of Love, yet it is necessarily more confined in its application. Love relates to all things which ap- pear good and beneficial in themselves, or to beings capable of receiving good. It comprehends the things enjoyed, and the state of pleasing existence, in which those beings are actually placed, as well as the desirableness of such a state, and all the means and instruments of good. Desire mostly refers to the state in which we are not. It solicits some favourable change, and exerts itself to obtain it. Hatred also is universally applicable to what- ever appears pernicious or displeasing in itself: Aversion more immediately concerns whatever appears pernicious or displeasing to us. These Affections may be considered as the satellites of Love and Hatred, perpetually accompanying them, and prompt to execute their orders. Wherever love or hatred direct their immediate attention, desire and aversion seek to appropriate or repel. Thus it appears that the love of good and hatred of evil ; the desire of possessing good and escaping evil; are the leading principles of our nature. The love of good commences with our existence, and the desire of good is coeval with our powers of discernment. Neither of them will leave us, until we cease to exist, or lose the consciousness of our own sensations and perceptions. Whatever diver- sity there may be in our situations, however various 7 50 DESIRE AND AVERSION. and opposite the objects engaging our attention- however versatile our humours, these remain the im- mutable principles of action. They pervade the animal system, as the electric fluid pervades the material; and though, like that, they may sometimes be latent, yet, like that, they may be instantaneously roused into vivid action, and manifest both their existence and their power by the effects they pro- duce. Human nature possesses various sensitive and mental powers, to each of which an infinite diver- sity of objects is adapted : and as the gratification of each communicates pleasure, we are prone to estimate every thing as a Good, which is capable of contributing to these gratifications ; and every thing as an Evil which opposes them. However, a contrariety or opposition frequently takes place between the higher and inferior pursuits of our nature ; in consequence of which the interests or gratifications of the one, must yield to those of the other. As sensual objects, and things which ad- minister to our immediate desires, are apt to make the strongest impressions and captivate our atten- tion, in preference to things less sensual and more remote, though of superior importance, thus do we frequently deem that to be a Good, which is virtual- ly an Evil. We may also deem that to be an Evil which is virtually a Good, as being productive of extensive, exalted, or permanent advantage. But notwithstanding these facts, we still pursue every thing as an apparent Good ; and we avoid every OBJECTS OF LOVE AND HATRED. 51 thing under the idea of its being an Evil, of grea- ter or less magnitude. Our appetites, our particu- lar propensities, our imaginations, our passions may spread deceitful charms over some objects ; and our want of attention, our ignorance, our impa- tience of present restraints and inconveniences, or the perverseness of our affections, may render ob- jects inimical in their appearance, which are bene- ficial in their tendency : yet our Desires are alone excited by the idea of some enjoyment or advan- tage ; and things are rendered objects of our aver- sion, alone because they are disagreeable to our feelings, or threaten to endanger, some way or other, our Well-being. (See Note F.) SECTION V. OBJECTS OF LOVE AND HATRED ; THEIR CHARACTERISTICS. Should it be asked, " in what do this Good and Evil consist ?" it would be difficult to give a satis- factory answer. To say that they consist in a certain consciousness of well being, or of a comfort- less existence, would be little more than to assert that happiness consists in being happy, and misery in being miserable. The following observations however, will discover to us what we expect in the means of good, and what we deem to be the causes of unhappiness ; and they will indicate where these are principally to be found. 52 OBJECTS OF Creatures formed like ourselves, with different organs of sense, with various powers of mind ac- companied with quick perceptions and high sensi- bility ; creatures endowed with great diversities of dispositions, tastes, propensities, must be variously affected by every thing around them. We are, as it were, plunged into the universe "tremblingly alive all o'er," and we are rendered capable of receiving impressions, pleasant or unpleasant, from every object which addresses our senses, from every thing we perceive, and from every thing of which we can form an idea. Nothing in this vast uni- verse can, at all seasons, be totally indifferent to every person in it ; nothing is so inert as to be in- capable of exerting some influence, in one connec- tion or other, and of calling forth a correspondent passion or affection. These effects are produced by our Perception or Supposition of certain powers, properties, or quali- ties, in the different objects, by which ideas of an agreeable or disagreeable nature, are excited within us. The diverse influences of these are to be ascribed to an apparent Aptitude or Correspon- dence, in some objects, with the frame and consti- tution of our nature, and to an inaptitude or want of correspondence in others ;—to a certain coinci- dence between properties and relations in objects and circumstances, with the appetites, powers, pro- pensities of our nature, the gratification of which seems to promote our well-being; or to the want LOVE AND HATRED. 53 of this coincidence, or the exertion of a contrary power which constitutes our misery. The diversity of attributes, seated in different objects, and the no less diversity in our situations, and in circumstances surrounding us, render it dif- ficult to make choice of such terms as may be universally appropriate. It may therefore be neces- sary to observe, that by attribute, property, quality, #>c. is meant to express that peculiarity, whatever it may be, which exerts an influence upon us; and these terms are used to indicate the distinguishing characteristics of various objects, as they are con- nected with some singularity in state, circumstance, or conduct, without the real or supposed existence of which, the passions and affections could not have been excited. (See Note G.) The subjects possessing this real or apparent aptitude and coincidence, or inaptitude, relate to our animal wants, to the various powers and em- ployments of our minds ; to our state and connec- tions as social beings; and also to the opinions entertained respecting our relation to a superior Being, or to a future state of existence. The various objects soliciting our attention under these heads;—the degrees of their suitability, excellence, importance, or the contrary ;—our ideas and mistakes concerning them ;—the facility or difficulty, with which some things are pursued, obtained, preserved, lost, dismissed;—the uncer- tainty, dangers, contrarieties to which we are con- 54 OBJECTS OF LOVE AND HATRED. stantly exposed, respecting whatever may appear interesting, are perpetually "engaging our affections, or exciting our passions, during the whole of our passage through life, from the cradle to the grave! Thus is that love of Well-being which is one and simple in its principle, most wonderfully diversified in its operations! Every object, every circum- stance, every idea which can enter the mind, makes some impression upon us, of a pleasant or unpleas- ant nature ; it contributes a something towards, or deducts from, the Good we seek. They all con- tain powers and properties, by which we are attrac- ted towards the grand desideratum, Happiness, or are repelled to various distances from it! CHAPTER II. CLASSIFICATION OF THE PASSIONS ACCORDING TO THEIR CHARACTERISTIC DIFFERENCES. SECTION I. THE EFFICIENT CAUSES OF THE PASSIONS, EMOTIONS, AND AFFEC- TIONS EXAMINED. The Affections and Passions, to which the cir- cumstances stated in the preceding chapter, give rise, are not only extremely numerous, but like their exciting causes, they are so connected and intermixed, that to arrange them in a lucid order, would be almost as impracticable as to form a regu- lar path through the Hercynian Wood. Very few of the passions or affections are perfectly simple ; some are extremely complex. Their complexities are so various, that it is almost impossible to restore each to its appropriate place ; and the most opposite affections are so intermixed, that it is very difficult to assign to each its due share of influence. In this labyrinth, an attention to the following facts may perhaps furnish us with something of a clue. Some of our passions and affections are inspired by circumstances which more immediately relate to ourselves, and to our own personal interests; that is, they belong to the principle of Self-love: Some of them belong to the social principle, and 56 EFFICIENT CAUSES OF THE refer to our connections with our own species, or to all animated natures. In some of our Passions and Affections, the ideas of good are obviously predominant, in others the ideas of evil. The Passions and Affections, which relate to Self-love, and are excited by the idea of a Good, may either refer to the good which is actually in our possession, and communicate various degrees of enjoyment, from simple gratification to ecstasies ; or The good we love may not be in our possession ; but it may appear attainable, and become the ob- ject of our Desire; or Though it be not in our possession, circumstan- ces may appear highly favourable to our attaining it, and it may thus inspire Hope. The state in which Evil is the predominant idea, referring to ourselves, may relate; To the loss of that good which we possessed, or to disappointments respecting the good we desired, and hoped to obtain; inspiring Sorrow, with its various modifications; or We may be apprehensive concerning the loss of what we possess; concerning the approach of some positive evil; or concerning the accomplishment of our desires, which introduces the family of Fear. The cause of both sorrow and fear may be some Agent, whose designed conduct, or even whose inadvertency, may threaten or produce injuries, and thus excite Anger, in various degrees. PASSIONS, EXAMINED. 57 The causes and excitements of our passions and affections respecting Others, may also be arranged under the predominancy of Good, or Evil in our ideas. Under the former head may Benevolence be placed, which will indicate itself either by good Wishes, or good Opinions; each productive of a large diversity of affections and passions, accord- ing to contingent circumstances. The predominance of Evil in our ideas will shew itself in actual Malevolence of disposition con- cerning another; or in a Displacency and disap- probation of their conduct. The above sketch seems to indicate a plan of investigation which, upon the whole, is the least confused and embarrassing. It is founded upon the remarks which have been made, concerning the grand propensity of human beings to seek feli- city ; upon the ideas of Good and Evil, either rela- ting to tnemselves or others; and it seems to com- prehend most of those contingent circumstances which surround us. That the idea of Good is most prevalent in the diverse kinds of gratification; in the pursuit of various objects of desire; in the indulgence of hope ; and in benevolent dispositions, no one will dispute: and that the idea of Evil, is prevalent in malevolence and displacency, is no less evident. It will also be obvious, upon a momem'; considera- tion, that as the love of good may produce Hatred to what is inimical to it, thus in the affections and 8 58 EFFICIENT CAUSES, &c. passions correspondent with this principle, the pri- mary and influential idea is that of suffering. In sorrow, when we grieve for the loss of what we love, it is the privation which immediately presents itself to the mind, and the hatred of this privation is the efficient cause of sorrow. In fear the appre- hension of impending evil takes the lead in our minds, though this evil may virtually consist in being deprived of some good. In anger, the evil intended or perpetrated, is the direct incitement to wrath, and we expatiate, with so much eagerness, upon ail the circumstances of aggravation, that we cannot allow ourselves, at the first instant, to dwell upon the attributes or qualities of the good thus endangered or destroyed. These instances mani- fest that the perception of an Evil from privation, is stronger in every instance, than our estimation of the intrinsic value of that which occasions the pain- ful emotion. But although these observations may Suffice to justify the Order proposed, yet it is acknowledged that they are not comprehensive enough to embrace everything relative to the passions. There is a class of emotions, in which distinct ideas of good or evil are not present to the mind, and which in fact may, with equal propriety, enlist themselves under each division. They are vivid impressions, produc- tive of effects which, strictly speaking, belong neither to the passions nor affections ; and yet their presence frequently constitutes the difference be- tween an affection and a passion. INTRODUCTORY EMOTIONS. 59 Phis enigma will be best explained, by our atten- tion to the manner in which our ideas of those influential and operative qualities, exciting passions and inspiring affections, are obtained. SECTION II. INTRODUCTORY EMOTIONS. When the attention is steadfastly fixed upon any quality or number of qualities, apparent in an object, whether they be good or bad, some impres- sion is made, or certain sensations are produced. These may dispose the mind to dwell yet longet upon the subject ; and the qualities they exhibit may be attentively contemplated, with all their relations and connections. Their former and their present influence, future consequences, &c. may thus be placed before us. Numberless correspon- dent ideas will present themselves, each producing its particular effect, until strong affections, either of love or hatred, desire or aversion, will be excited; and these may gradually arise to the most violent passions and emotions. In this manner have per- sons been known to work themselves up into ecsta- cies, or into phrensies; and the mind has been so completely occupied by its subject, that it has totally lost the power of self-command; nothing foreign 60 INTRODUCTORY being able to gain admission, and divide the atten- tion. But on the other hand, whatever presents itself in a sudden and unexpected manner, has, in most cases, a much greater effect upon us, than subjects of very superior importance, for which we have been gradually prepared. The more sudden, that is, the greater the improbability of its appearing at that instant ; and the more unexpected, that is, the greater distance the train of thought was from the expectancy, the more violent will be the first per- cussion ; and this circumstance will give peculiar energy to the exciting cause, whatever its peculiar complexion may be. A strong impulse is given, by the very mode of its appearance, previous to our being able to acquire a distinct knowledge of its nature. This impulse is the emotion, we term Surprise. Another circumstance which frequently attends the cause of any specific emotion, and produces its own characteristic effects, in subjects of seeming importance, is that of Intricacy ; in which the mind is thrown into an embarrassed state concerning the particular object, or something material relative to it. This embarrassment also gives an additional impetus to the characteristic passion, whether it be of a pleasing or a displeasing nature, and is distin- guished by the name of Wonder. A third adventitious effect is produced by an in- stantaneous perception of the extreme magnitude EMOTIONS. 61 or extent, of the subject which calls forth any of the Passions and Affections. It seems to possess some- thing immeasurable, unfathomable, beyond the utmost stretch of comprehension. This we call Astonishment. It now appears that some of our emotions may- be excited, before the good or evil, seated in the exciting cause, can have arrested the attention. Yet even in the.se cases, Good or Evil is not ex- cluded. For these emotions are most intimately connected with the idea of something peculiarly important ; but we can deem nothing important unless it possess a power of producing Good or Evil. Their peculiar strength is even occasioned by the vivid idea of Importance, while the emotions themselves manifest our ignorance of its specific nature. These emotions, therefore, are excited by the confused idea of something peculiarly interesting in the cause : and they are manifestly intended to awaken and direct the attention to this cause, that its nature and character may be ascertained. Sur- prise, like a watchful centinel, is equally alarmed at a sudden approach, whether it be of a friend or an enemy. Wonder is excited by a curiosity which induces us to investigate the character of the intru- der, with peculiar keenness: and although Aston- ishment is almost overwhelmed with the subject, yet it is irresistibly attracted towards it, with a 62 INTRODUCTORY force proportioned to its magnitude. At the instant in which we feel our imbecility the most, we are the most eager to investigate those qualities which we acknowledge to exceed our comprehension ! The above characters ascribed to them, plainly indicate that these emotions cannot be considered, strictly speaking, either as passions or Affections; which are always inspired by the idea or perception of some specific Good or Evil, but merely as intro- ductory to these: and it is very singular, that com- mon language, without the suspicion of its being founded on philosophical investigation, uniformly characterizes them by the term Emotions. We never speak either of the Passion or Affection of surprise, or of wonder, or of astonishment; but consent with one voice to denominate them Emo- tions. It is also agreed that they are very distinct from the permanent calmness of an affection, and that they are common to the most opposite passions. The most violent passions, of every kind, are well known to proceed more frequently from the impulse of the moment, than from deliberate thought. They are equally excited also, by sub- jects Of a pleasing or displeasing nature ; they are the precursors of many passions, and are able to communicate an energy to all. Thus we perceive that the passions,—using this term in a generic sense, may proceed both from our Ignorance, and from our real or supposed know!- EMOTIONS. 63 edge of the nature and qualities of objects. As the excess of cold operates upon the corporeal system, with a stimulating power like the excess of heat; thus the opposites of expectancy, of knowledge, of comprehension, become powerf».i] stimulants to the awakened mind, and communicate a painful ener- gy, which is peculiarly instrumental in removing their cause. This effect is manifestly prod'iced by the power of the Imagination which immediately create alarms, forms numberless conjeciures, and expands itself to the utmost, that it may equal if possible the vastness of the object. Surprise, Astonishment, Wonder, being excited by something novel, something embarrassing, or something vast and incomprehensible in the objects, without any reference to its peculiar nature, and exerting their influence, indiscriminately, in pas- sions of the most opposite characters, they may, with strict propriety, be contemplated as introduc- tory to those subjects, which, upon a minute investi- gation, seem calculated to exert their own specific influence. We shall therefore term them Introduc- tory Emotions. When the nature of the exciting cause is more ac- curately ascertained, it will be found to respect either the Selfish or the Social Principle. Hence arise two important distinctions, forming two dif- ferent Classes. 64 SURPRISE. In each Class the predominant idea of a Good, and the predominant idea of an Evil, will consti- tute two different Orders. The leading passions and affections^ under each order, point out the Genera. The complicated nature of some of the passions, and other contingent circumstances, may be con- sidered as constituting Species and Varieties, under each characteristic Genus. These distinctions were suggested to the Author, by an attention to the natural progress of our pas- sions and affections, from the first exciting cause, to all the ramifications and diversities of which they are susceptible. The Reader will doubtless perceive a striking coincidence with the classifica- tion, which Nosological and Botanical Writers have found it expedient to adopt. The Introductory Emotions, from their nature and influence, demand a prior investigation. 1. SURPRISE. We have described Surprise to be the strong emo- tion, excited by something which presents itself in a sudden and unexpected manner, when the mind was totally unprepared for it ; something we pre- sume to be highly important, and yet the kind or extent of this importance has not been ascertain- SURPRISE. 6b f^d. It is the apparent novelty of the subject, or of some peculiarity relative to it; or the unexpected- ness of its introduction, at a particular time, or in a particular manner, contrary to probability or ex- pectancy, which produces the effect; and whenever these circumstances take place, Surprise may be equally excited by things agreeable or disagreeable; by objects of our love or hatred, admiration or horror. The primary or natural effects of Surprise, are to rouse the mind, to force it out of that train of ideas with which it was occupied, and compel it to advert to the novel object; which is afterwards to exert a characteristic influence, according to its na- ture. The secondary effect of Surprise, is to add an impetus to the existing cause, whatever that may be. It renders pleasing sensations more de- lightful ; and it gives an additional keenness to the unpleasing ones. This effect is evidently produced by the force of an awakened and active imagina- tion ; which preceding either deliberate attention, or the exercise of judgment, magnifies the appa- rent good or the apparent ill, as soon as their spe- cific natures are obscurely perceived. In Surprise, the mind is totally passive. The Emotion can nei- ther be produced nor prevented by any exertions of the will. Nor is it its immediate province, either to reflect or investigate. Its pathological effect is that of a simple stimulus, whose sole ob- ject is to arouse the attention. Sudden startings, earnest looks, extension of arms and hands, strong exclamations, are the characteristic signs of the 9 GC WONDER. emotion; and when the violence of Surprise ex- cites an alarm, which is oft-times the case with- out the actual presence of danger, the whole body is instantly placed in an attitude of defence. II. WONDER. Wonder expresses an embarrassment of the mind, after it is somewhat recovered from the first percussion of surprise. It is the effect pro- duced by an interesting subject, which has been suddenly presented to the mind, but concerning which there may be many intricacies respecting the subject itself, or the cause and manner of its introduction. In Wonder the mind begins to re-act, but its ideas are in a state of confusion. It attempts to examine and investigate, but it seems engaged in a fruitless inquiry. It rapidly collects together various circumstances, from which to form con- jectures, but rejects them as unsatisfactory, as soon as they are formed. Whenever the desired discovery is made, Wonder ceases, and gives way to the impression which is correspondent to the nature of the discovery, and to those circumstances which are perceived to belong to the exciting cause; whether they be productive of joy or grief, admiration or abhorrence, hope or fearful appre- hension. As in this emotion, the mind begins to exert its active and discriminating powers, so is it ASTONISHMENT. 07 able to prolong or to shorten the effects of the emotion, either by dwelling upon the subject, and deliberately following its intricacies, or by divert- ing its attention to other objects. Being intro- duced by surprise, and partaking of its indefinite nature, the pathological indications of Wonder are very similar. They are, however, less violent; and they are intermixed with stronger marks of mental embarrassment. The eyes are sometimes fastened upon the author or narrator of something wonderful; sometimes they are directed upwards, to be more detached from every surrounding object, which might distract the attention; sometimes they roll about, as if they were in search of an object that may be equal to the explanation; and the half- opened mouth seems eager to receive the desired information. In very intricate and important con- cerns, total abstraction from every thing external, and depth of thought marked by countenance and posture, indicate how busily the mind is employed in searching out the mystery. III. ASTONISHMENT. Astonishment is the kind and degree of wonder introduced by surprise, which as it were, over- whelms or petrifies the soul. The mental powers are in a stupor, in a state of stagnation. High astonishment is the incubus of the mind, which feels nothing at the instant, so much as its inability 68 ASTONISHMENT. to act. This emotion always relates to things of the highest importance, to things which appear too vast and extensive for the grasp of intellect, rather than to intricacies. When it relates to human conduct, Astonishment is excited by great under- takings, or extensive projects ; by the accomplish- ment of plans which appeared more than human, whether beneficial or destructive; or by some excess either of virtue or of vice. The body marks, in a striking manner, the singular state of the mind. That also becomes immoveable; petrified as it were, or thunder-struck; which are the favourite expressions, in almost every language. The eyes are firmly fixed, without being directed to any particular object; the character of coun- tenance, which was formed by the habitual in- fluence of some predominant affection, is for a time effaced; and a suspension of every other expres- sion, a certain vacuity, strongly notes this singular suspension of mind. Wonder and astonishment are expressions which in many cases, may be used synonymously; as both causes and affects are very analogous : for the intricacy attending an important subject may be connected with its vastness; and sometimes occasioned by it. When these are introduced by Surprise, that is, when subjects of the kind are suddenly and unexpectedly forced upon the atten- tion, their united effects are extremely powerful ; and they give an infinite momentum to their causes, whether they be of a pleasing or displeasing na- ture. ASTONISHMENT. 69 According to the above view of the emotion, it may obviously be connected with the causes either of happiness or misery ; causes which inspire those pleasing sensations, which so often accompany the perception of things sublime and stupendous, or which excite painful sensations from things we deem horrible. It may introduce the excess of joy, or the excess of fearful apprehension; call forth the most exalted admiration, or inspire the deepest in- dignation and contempt. The term Amazement, which is sometimes em- ployed, seems to express a medium between won- der and astonishment. It is manifestly borrowed from the extensive and complicated intricacies of a labyrinth ; in which there are endless mazes, with- out the discovery of a clue. Hence an idea is con- veyed of more than simple wonder; the mind is lost in wonder. Though all these emotions have, generally speaking, the greatest power in things which unex- pectedly arrest the attention ; yet they may also proceed from contemplation. When the subject is complicated, the more we discern concerning it, the more will unexpected novelties present them- selves, and successively become the causes of sur- prise. These novelties may be of such a nature, as to amaze and confound the understanding. We may also be the more deeply penetrated with a conviction of the vastness and incomprehensibility of the subject, so as to be worked up into astonish- 70 CLASSIFICATION OF THE PASSIONS, &c. ment. The powers of the soul may become petri- fied as it were, or paralized by their fruitless at- tempts to comprehend what is far beyond their reach, and to fathom that which is unfathomable! SECTION III. CLASSIFICATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS, AS THET RESPECT THE SELFISH OR THE SOCIAL PRINCIPLE. We are now prepared to contemplate the imme- diate effects of those particular qualities, supposed to be seated in the subjects themselves; which the emotions of Surprise, Wonder, and Astonishment, may have forced upon our attention, or which may have been discovered by calmer observation. According to the order proposed we shall first attend to those which are the most interesting to Ourselves, or which relate to the principle of Self- Love. CLASS 1. ON THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS, WHICH OWE THEIR ORIGIN TO THE PRINCIPLE OF SELF-LOVE. These may be divided into two distinct Orders; that in which Love, and the Idea of Good, that is, JOY. 71 of something either beneficial or pleasing, are more immediately present to the mind ; and that in which Hatred, and the Idea of Evil me most impressive. ORDER I. THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS FOUNDED ON SELF-LOVE, WHICH ARE EXCITED BY THE IDEA OF GOOD. These are of two Kinds: the one relates to Good in Possession, the other to that in Expectan- cy. That in Possession inspires the following pas- sions ana affections, Joy, Contentment, Satisfaction, Complacency. » JOY. Joy is the vivid pleasure or delight, inspired by the immediate reception of something peculiarly grateful; of something obviously productive of an essential advantage ; or of something which pro- mises to contribute to our present or future well- being. This delight may be communicated, by our liberation from fearful apprehensions, or from a state of actual distress ;—by obtaining some new acquisition, some addition toour,stock of enjoyment; —or by the full assurance of this, without any mixture of doubt. 72 JOY. The various" degrees of Impetus produced by this passion, will depend upon the sensibility of the subject, his supposed ignorance of the object, the sudden and unexpected manner in which it has been communicated, and the contrast formed be- tween the preceding and the present state. A sud- den and instantaneous translation from extreme anxiety or the depth of distress, to an exalted pin- nacle of happiness, constitutes the highest possible degree. In this case, Surprise, Wonder, Astonish- ment, take possession of the soul; and though they may at first confound, they afterwards are produc- tive of unutterable transports. On the first impulse of Joy, we are perfectly passive. No effort of the will can check the sensa- tion itself; and where the Joy is excessive, it is not in the power of resolution to suppress every external sign. The state of passive impression is succeed- ed by the exertions of a vigorous imagination, which, with rapid confusion, runs over the many supposed advantages to be derived from the wel- eome treasure : and these it is disposed to multiply and aggrandize, far beyond the bounds of reason or probability. This pleasing, I had almost said, intoxicated state of mind, produces correspondent effects upon the system. A brisk and delectable flow of the animal spirits diffuses a pleasurable sensation over the whole frame. Every species of torpor is subdued ; an exhilaration succeeds, indi- cating itself by emotions, which not only manifest the influence of the passion to spectators, but so- GLADNESS, CHEERFULNESS. 73 licit their participation. The subject feels himself too much animated to remain in a tranquil state. Unusual vivacity in the eyes, and smiles upon the countenance, are accompanied by joyful acclama- tions, clapping of hands, and various other lively gestures. Where the mind is strongly agitated, and under no restraint from a sense of decorum, or solicitude for character, loud laughter, jumping, dancing, and the most wild and extravagant ges- tures, indicate the frolicksomeness of the heart. Intense meditation upon some supposed good, the contemplation of its intrinsic worth, and of the happy consequences which are expected to flow from it, have sometimes raised the mind to transports, over which reason has lost its controul. But these instances seldom occur; as they require the union of strong conviction, lively imagination, and a warm heart. The transports of Joy usually proceed from sudden impulse; and of consequence, ecstacies will sometimes be great, from very trivial causes. Gladness is an inferior degree of Joy; it may be excited by incidents agreeable or desirable in themselves, which are not of sufficient moment to raise the ecstasies of joy; or it may consist in that lively flow of spirits, which immediately succeeds to the transports of Joy. Cheerfulness is an emotion of still gentler in- fluence. It is often inspired by very trivial cir- cumstances, in persons of a lively disposition, and free from anxious care. 10 74 CONTENTMENT, SATISFACTION. Mirth is a higher degree of cheerfulness, gene- rally excited by things facetious, or ludicrous; and greatly augmented by the power of social sympathy. Thus it frequently becomes noisy and boisterous, from causes not able to communicate the smallest emotion to an individual in a solitary state. When the mind is more composed, and we are able to reflect, with a degree of calmness, upon the good received or anticipated, we become variously affected,—according to the value we place upon the object,—according to its apparent suitableness to our state and situation,—and ac- cording to its correspondence with our previous desires and expectations: and if the good be not transitory or evanescent, we remain under the influence of Contentment, Satisfaction, or Com- placency. Contentment expresses the acquiescence of the mind in the portion of good we possess. It im- plies a perception that our lot might have been better, or that it is inferior to what others enjoy, or that it does not fully answer the expectations we had formed. An effort of reason or of pru- dence is necessary to produce it. We compare our present with our former situation, or with the inferior lot of others ; and thus learn to acquiesce in the degree of advantage obtained. Satisfaction denotes a pleasing state of mind, exceeding that communicated by simple Content- ment. The good obtained is duly appreciated; COMPLACENCY. 7 J it is found to be correspondent to our desires, and adequate to our wishes. The word Satisfaction is frequently employed to express the full accom- plishment of some particular desire ; which always communicates a temporary pleasure, whatever may be the nature of that desire. This affection by no means implies, that felicity is complete, as it chiefly refers to particular objects; and when it respects our state and situation, it admits that greater good might have been our portion, though we are more than contented, we are well-pleased with what we possess. Complacency is full and continued satisfaction, connected with a considerable degree of Approba- tion. It has intrinsic value, or some species of worth for its object;—some mental excellencies, or ad- vantages accruing from them ;—some sentiment, disposition, acquirement, conduct, performance, either of ourselves, or of others with whom we are immediately connected, which, upon close examination, we deem deserving of esteem or applause. Complacency may be enjoyed as the reward of our own conduct, or of the purity and benevolence of our motives: it may be inspired by a review of conduct, acquirement, disposition, on which we can pronounce that it was well done, or well intended. Complacency may also relate to the approved conduct, sentiments, attainments, dispositions of others, for whom we are deeply concerned. In this case, the affection may be inspired^ by their conduct and dispositions towards COMPLACENCY. ourselves, or by the interest we take in whatever contributes to the promotion of their own honour and happiness. The Satisfaction produced by complacency, indicates that we have, in some respect or other, a personal interest in the object of it; which distinguishes the affection from that high gratifi- cation we may enjoy, when we contemplate and applaud the sentiments, dispositions, and actions of great and respectable characters, with which we can have no immediate concern. The Approbation which accompanies compla- cency, distinguishes its object from the more common causes of satisfaction. These causes may arise from whatever quadrates with our wish- es and desires, without paying attention to their intrinsic merit. A suitableness to the occasion is the only requisite to inspire satisfaction ; but the Approbation implied in complacency, conveys the idea of some kind of Excellency. The term has never been profaned by the application of it to guilty pursuits, dishonourable success, or un- worthy sentiments ; however they may flatter our vanity, or be the completion of our wishes. Nor are things of a trivial or transient nature, deemed worthy of this affection. It is not said of a mere spectator, that he takes Complacency in a ball, a concert, or at a theatrical exhibition; however highly he may be delighted and satisfied with the performance. COMPLACENCY. 77 Nor can the term be applied with propriety to any beneficial acquisition, which has been purely accidental. The highest prize which the wheel of fortune may have thrown into our laps, may be received with joy, delight, and satisfaction ; but the terms Approbation and Complacency would be improperly employed to express our feelings. Complacency may be inspired by some parts of the inanimate creation, in which we have an im- mediate concern, and which communicate pleasure on the review. Works of art well executed, may be contemplated with Complacency ; certainly by the Artist, if he has succeeded to his wishes ; and the Possessor will enjoy something of a similar pleasure, if the performance be calculated to recall pleasing ideas, or if he should have manifested either taste or address in the purchase of it. (See Note H.) The above instances will evince that, in strict propriety of language, Complacency is alone appli- cable to that species of Good, which originates from some mental or moral excellence; where there is an indication of propriety, ingenuity, wis- dom, address, or dignity in sentiment, design, exe- cution ; or of rectitude and benevolence in the mo- tive. It is obvious that the affection of Complacency will possess different degrees of strength, according to the various kinds and degrees of excellence dis- cernible in the exciting cause. The highest degree of Complacency can alone be inspired, by the obvi- 78 COMPLACENCY. ous use of wise and pertinent measures, from benefi- cent motives, which are, or promised to be, produc- tive of the most desirable ends: or by laudable dispositions, and powerful exertions, crowned with the success we most ardently desired. When the means have been as wise as the nature of the thing would admit, the motives the most noble and generous ; when the execution indicates skill, and the result proves as successful as could have been wished, Complacency, respecting that object, is complete. High Complacency is the most grateful of all the Affections. It possesses an elevation and a suavity peculiar to itself. It is permanent satisfac- tion, enjoying the full approbation of reason ; and consequently it suffers no alloy from the struggle of contending passions, or opposite desires. When it is inspired by our own conduct, it is accompani- ed by self-approbation, or the testimony of an ap- plauding conscience, enlivened perhaps by the voice of gratitude, and enriched by the esteem of the worthy. If it proceed from the conduct of others, it augments the pleasures of affection, friendship, and gratitude. According to the above view of the affection, may a virtuous and comprehensive mind, contem- plate things in themselves of a displeasing nature, with Complacency ; such as difficulties, which are introductory to benefits; and sufferings, which may be requisite for the production of the most essential good. PRIDE. l-i But the affection of Complacency has its coun- terfeit. Being more complicate than either of the preceding, and the approbation of the mind form- ing a constituent part of it, an erroneous opinion of ourselves may change the nature of this sublime affection, and render it the parent of vice and folly. Thus false conceptions of our own talents, acquire- ment, conduct, may inspire Pride, Vanity, Haugh- tiness, and Arrogance. Notwithstanding these affections are evil in their nature and tendency, yet as they are the illegiti- mate offspring of Complacency, violated by Self- love, and have the appearance of great good for their object, they demand a place in this arrange- ment. Pride is that exalted idea of our state, qualifica- tions, or attainments, which exceeds the boundaries of justice, and induces us to look down upon sup- posed inferiors, with some degree of unmerited contempt. When this elevated idea of ourselves becomes a motive to avoid and despise any thing mean and unworthy, its impropriety is overlooked ; and as it leads to worthy conduct, it is honoured with the appellation of laudable Pride. It sometimes consists in exaggerated ideas of the superiority of our own country; of merit in our relatives or intimate connections, whose character and conduct reflect some rays of honour upon our- selves ;—such as the pride of family descent,—-that 30 VANITY. of children whose parents may have acquired cele- brity,__or of parents in the accomplishments of their children, or particular honours conferred upon them. This proceeding from the excess of affec- tion, where affection is natural, is called a pardona- ble Pride. When Pride is manifested by an ostentatious display of wealth, station, or accomplishments, it is deemed a vain Pride. When it is indulged to such an excess, that it looks down with disdain upon others, but little in- ferior, perhaps equal, possibly much superior in real merit, it is branded with the title of insufferable Pride. (See Note 1.) Vanity is that species of Pride, which, while it presumes upon a degree of superiority in some particular articles, fondly courts the applause of every one within its sphere of action; seeking every occasion to display some talent, or some supposed excellency. Generally speaking, it is the foible of superficial and frivolous minds, that think much more of their attainments, than of their remaining deficiencies. Yet it may be found- ed on the excessive love of praise, in those who possess no inconsiderable share of merit. Haughtiness is an overt act of Pride, manifested by some conduct or expression, indicative of an unmerited contempt of others. It may be deemed in this case, the swelling of Pride into an emo- tion. DESIRE. 81 Arrogance indicates itself by some particular claims to precedency, or marks of distinction and respect, from those whom Pride considers its inferiors in station and character; or by imper- tinent pretensions to an equality with superiors. These indications of false complacency in their mildest influence, may be placed with strict propriety among the affections. Upon sudden occasions they rise into emotions; and some-times, particularly when connected with anger, from a supposed insult or neglect, they possess every characteristic of jpassion. Having considered the Passions and Affections immediately connected with the Possession of Good, we shall proceed to the Passions and Affections which are excited by the contemplation of Good, when it is not in our possession, but of which the attainment is deemed possible. Which constitutes our second division under the present Order. These are Desire and Hope. DESIRE. The general nature of Desire has already en- gaged our attention. It has been described as that influential effect which the perception of Good or Evil produces within us, in consequence of which we seek to obtain the one and avoid the other. 11 82 DESIRE. Our plan demands that we now contemplate Desire as it is excited by particular objects, con- ducive of some apparent good, either of benefit or pleasure, which we have not yet obtained. According to the common acceptation of the term, Desire may be considered as an eager long- ing for some Good, centered, or apparently cen- tered, in particular objects, situations, or circum- stances. This description is made as general as possible, in order to comprehend two different acts of the mind concerning such objects; which are signified by the terms Wish and Desire. Lord Kaims expresses this difference in the following manner : " Desire, taken in its proper " sense, is that internal act which by influencing " the will, makes us to proceed to action. Desire, " in a lax sense, respects also actions and events " that depend not on us ; as when I desire that my " friend may have a son to represent him; or " that my country may flourish in arts and " sciences ; but such internal act is more properly " termed a wish than desire."* Though this observation does not fully mark the difference, it plainly indicates there is one. We will therefore first consider the Desire which is influential to action; and then advert more particularly to the characteristic distinctions between that and a Wish. * Elements of Criticism, vol. i. p. 42. DESIRE. 8:3 In the first sense, Desire may be defined, that uneasy sensation excited in the mind by the view, or by the contemplation, of any desirable good, which is not in our possession, which we are solicitous to obtain, and of which the attainment appears at least possible. Desire is in its nature restless. Mr. Locke justly remarks that " it is the uneasiness it occa- " sions, which excites the mind to pursue its object, " and rouses it from its natural state of apathy and " inactivity." Thus it is founded on some species of discontent; for were we perfectly contented and satisfied with all our sensations, and with every circumstance surrounding us, all desire must cease. It relates to something which is not im- mediately in our power, and which requires either our own exertions, or the agency of others over whom we possess some influence. It implies, therefore, that something is to be done, before the end can be obtained; and this necessarily implies also that there is a possibility of success attending the attempt. It is not always discouraged by difficulties; but our most active desires are never so ardent as to attempt known impossibilities. Desires are excited either by the wretchedness of our present situation,—by periodical wants, which demand gratification,—by comparing the defects and imperfections of our own state, with the preferable state of others,—or by the recent perception of some pleasing and useful quality in objects, which we wish to appropriate. 84 DESIRE. When Desire is excited by wretchedness itself, it looks forwards towards Good; towards libera- tion from this state, and the enjoyment of a better. Relief, and the means of relief, are the predominant ideas accompanying Desire. In this case, the idea of a good is immediately engrafted on the stock of evil. The desires excited by periodical wants belong to the appetites exclusively. When the comparison of our own |state with that of others im- plants desires, they proceed from the discovery of new sources of enjoyment, to which we were strangers, united with a conviction that there is a possibility of attaining them. The recent percep- tion of pleasing qualities in objects, has a similar influence. Our natural love of good inspires a wish to possess whatever promises an augmen- tation of our welfare. Hence it appears, that our Ignorance is often the parent of contentment. We must acquire some knowledge of stations and qualities before we can desire them. The enlargement of our ideas becomes a copious source of discontent with our present possessions, and inspires ardent desires after new objects. Nothing can injure the good we possess, so much as the idea of a something better: and the superlative is equally injurious to the comparative. The objects of desire are infinite, and infinitely diversified. They relate to whatever is essential to our existence and welfare, and to every thing DESIRE. 8S which may strike the fancy; that is, to all our natural, and all our artificial wants. They refer also to all our social connections, and to all our mental pursuits. These desires acquire such a di- versity of character, according to their origin, the degrees of their strength, and other circumstances, as to render a minute analysis impossible. We shall therefore confine ourselves to a few remarks. It is observable that many of those Desires which are common to all men, and without which the usual offices of life could not he discharged, are of the mildest and most permanent natures ; such as the desire of preserving health, a desire of pro- curing a competency suitable to our station, to pro- vide for our families, &», Desires of this class arc not distinguished by any particular epithet; nor are they denominated either Affections or Passions, though they obviously belong to the former. But when any extraordinary and unusual desire pre- sents itself, which exceeds the common tenour of disposition; or when the object of desire is some- thing peculiarly striking and important, it is distin- guished by some discriminating epithet, and fre- quently assumes the character of an affection, emo- tion, or passion. Thus, the moderate and legitimate gratification of the sensual appetites, is not marked by any particular appellation ; but inordinate desires, which transgress the bounds of sobriety and decency, are stigmatized by the names of Gluttony, Drunken- ness, Debauchery, Lust, &c. When we expatiate 86 DESIRE. upon such a character, we remark that the person to whom it belongs, is passionately fond of good eating, or of his bottle; that he is led by his pas- sions, &c. An exemplary command over such ex- cesses is honoured with the title of Temperance, and Chastity. These virtues, consisting in the love of moderation, and in purity of mind, deserve a place among the affections; although, from the mildness of their perpetual influence, they are simply term- ed virtuous dispositions. The moderate desire of wealth has no particular name ; but when the de- sire becomes excessive, when it consists in amas- sing riches, without applying them either to utility or enjoyment, it is termed Avarice. This also is denominated a passion; not from the violence of any emotion, but from its permanent effects, and from the passive and abject state of the person who is under its influence. When riches are eagerly pursued, in defiance of justice and humanity, the eonduct is termed Rapaciousness. The*wish to im- prove in any valuable qualification or to acquire esteem, when moderate, has no distinguishing character; but an eager desire to equal or excel others in any particular accomplishment, is called Emulation; and to seek pre-eminence in office, title, or station, is Ambition. These desires are frequently so inordinate, as to require the name of Passions : thus the ambitious passions is a familiar expression. (See Note K.) The exemplary desire of regulating our thoughts and pursuits, by right principles, constitutes Virtue; and all the duties DESIRE. 87 Which are performed with warmth and feeling are deemed the result of virtuous affections : the oppo- site propensities and conduct constitute Vice, whose characteristic consists in depraved affections, and ungoverned passions. The desire of yielding obe- dience to the divine command, and habitual solici- tude to obtain the divine favour, is Religion* This, under its mildest influence, is termed, a disposition or character. When a religious temper is indicated by prayer and meditation, which warmly interest the affections, it is called devotion. If any one imagines that the divine favour is to be obtained, by a scrupulous attention to frivolous ceremonies, he is considered as superstitious. Superstition is deemed a principle of action rather than an affec- tion. It is, in fact, consecrated frivolity, devoid of love or regard to the supposed duties it enjoins, or to its object. A tenacious reverence for unimport- ant sentiments, with a censorious disposition to- wards those whose opinions are opposite, is the province of bigotry; which, if it deserve the title of an affection, certainly does not belong to the benevolent class. An earnest desire, and unremit- ted endeavours, to propagate any particular senti- ment, or to enforce a particular rule of conduct, either out of love of truth, or of those we wish to become proselytes, or in order to recommend our- selves to some Principal, by our assiduity, is de- nominated zeal; which is deemed an affection. When some particular object gains the ascendancy over every other, and occupies the greater portion 88 DESIRE. of our attention, it is occasionally termed a.passion; as a passion for music, &c. in what sense, and with what propriety has already been considered. 'Such an invincible predilection for any subject as shall occupy the choicest of our thoughts, and incite to the most vigorous exertions, with such an ardour and constancy as to brave difficulties and danger, is termed enthusiasm; which has a place among the Passions. The very Motives by which we are actuated, and the choice of means in order to effectuate our purpose, form various species of desire, sufficient to characterize the prevailing disposition. These constitute integrity, honesty, industry, honour, &c. or artifice, deceit, cruelty, &c. according as the prevailing desire is under the influence of worthy, or base and unworthy principles and dispositions. It should also be recollected, that a particulai desire may, in certain circumstances, become the parent of various other affections and passions. Of this the Passion of Love presents us with striking instances; which, in its progress, is so frequently productive of hope, fear, joy, grief, and tormenting jealousies. In short, every pursuit, which primari- ly respected the gratification of our senses, may become the occasion of hope, joy, fea-r, anger, sor- row, envy, &c. according to the impediments or aids received from others, or according to our suc- cess or disappointments. DESIRE. 89 The Novelty of an object will frequently elevate desire into a passion. This doubtless proceeds from the force of imagination, which greatly en- hances the value of those qualities which the object may possess, and is very prone to supply defects. Love at first sight illustrates and confirms this idea. Those charms which had seized the mind by surprise, become both unrivalled and irresistible to an heated imagination. Impediments to our desires, if they be not suffi- ciently powerful to subjugate them, redouble their ardour. The affections being once engaged, desires being once enkindled, we are placed in a very different state of mind, from that we experi- enced previous to the excitement. We know that the disappointment of our wishes will not leave us in the former state of tranquillity, but will become a source of unhappiness; we therefore redouble our energy not to suffer a disappointment. This also is strongly exemplified in the passion of Love. Pride, anger, &c. are sometimes called in as power- ful auxiliaries ; and they exert all their impetuosity in support of our pretensions. Inordinate Ambi- tion abundantly illustrates this fact. It engenders a thousand evil passions, which like the Imps of Sin in Milton, yelp around it. Where it meets with obstacles, it is not scrupulous about the means of opposing them. Success increases its powers; and contrary to every other monster, it is rendered more insatiable and ravenous by being fed. Ih 12 90 DESIRE. either state, therefore, it becomes the terror and the scourge of the earth. Mental pursuits seem to be the most remote from every thing passionate and turbulent. An affection for science is, in general, the most produc- tive of a pleasing serenity of mind. Yet even here no small diversity is observable, according as the memory, the reasoning powers, or the imagination are employed. The knowledge of interesting facts, and the examination of the relation of things to each other, are generally of the calmest nature; though the latter may justly be deemed of a more elevated character than the former. It is some- times also rewarded with the transports of joy, in- spired by the surprise of some new and important discovery. The creative powers of the mind are as various in their effects, as they are unlimited in their operations. They are the sources of lively amusement, and they may excite ecstacies. Where the imagination is the most vivid, its pleasures are the strongest; but they are of short duration: whereas the pursuits of knowledge furnish a tem- perate perpetuity of gratification, sufficient to com- fort and support the indefatigable student, in his most arduous researches. The Motives to study are accompanied with various effects upon the mind. When science is pursued simply from the pleasure which know- ledge affords, that pleasure is placid and mild. When the primary motive is to benefit mankind by useful communications, the pursuit itself has DESIRE. 91 self-complacency for its companion. When the object is personal advantage, either of fortune or of reputation, adventitious passions will arise ac- cording to the prospect of success, or the actual accomplishment of our desires; according to ap- prehensions entertained, or to disappointments ex- perienced. When high ambition is the primary object, the passions proceeding from success, re- nown, disappointment, uncertainty, rivalship, dis- grace; such as joy, sorrow, vexation, hope, fear, jealousy, &c. &c. will agitate the mind. The desires respecting our social connections, are for the reasons given above, and according to the plan proposed, referred to a distinct class. Desires, inspired by religious principles, are of all others the most diversified, both in kind and degree; they are according to the notions we entertain of religion, and the stronger or weaker effect of these notions upon our feelings. The most extensive signification of the term Religion, that which comprehends the greatest diversity of opinions, and meets the ideas of most philosophers, seems to be the following : An impressive sense of the irresistible influence of one or more superior Beings, over the concerns of mortals, which may become beneficial or ini- mical to our welfare. It is evident, that a great diversity of the most opposite principles may be included under this general definition ; and it is no less evident, that these principles, as often as they become influential, will be productive of ef- 92 DESIRE. fects correspondent with their natures; will form the temper, and implant desires, most congenial with themselves, but the most opposite to each other. Zeal and enthusiasm are common to them all; but their indications will be correspondent with the supposed characters of the Powers they revere, and the methods supposed to be necessary to conciliate their favour, and avert their displeas- ure. Fear, terror, bigotry, superstition, cruelty, may thus be engendered; every evil propensity and atrocious vice may thus be consecrated, how- ever inconsistent with the genuine dictates of re- ligion, or the feelings of humanity. (See Note L.) When, on the contrary, the mind is inspired with the most exalted conceptions of Deity, and with correspondent sentiments of moral obligation, religion may cherish the purest dispositions and affections. It may moderate and restrain inordi- nate desires,—elevate the mind by the contempla- tion of perfection in character, and by a warm desire to imitate. It may inspire love, joy, hope, gratitude;—correct impatience and discontent;— foster the principles of universal benevolence, and of every social virtue. Thus may Religion, ac- cording to the ideas formed of its object and duties, be rendered capable of exciting the most despicable, or the most noble affections; and of forming the most abject, or the most elevated of characters! Mr. Hume has remarked, that Religion is the fulcrum, which Archimedes required, to enable WISH. 93 him to move the world. He might have added, that according to the manner and address exer- cised, in applying the lever of Opinion to this fulcrum, will the world be raised up to the hea- vens, or depressed down to the abyss. A Wish is an inactive desire. It is the result of that longing after happiness so natural to man, in cases where no expectations can be formed, no efforts can be made. It is the breathing after something desirable, where the means to obtain it are not in our power ; or where the opportunity may be forever lost. It is excited by the con- templation of a something, which if it could possi- bly be obtained, might augment our portion of good; or by reflecting upon something, which, had it been possessed, performed, or avoided, might have proved peculiarly advantageous." Thus we may wish for impossibilities, which cannot be the objects of our active desires. The beggar may wish to be a King, who cannot seriously desire it. We may wish that we could fly, even without wings, and pay a visit to some of the planets; though we know that the wish will be in vain. A Wish may refer to past scenes, where De- sire is totally inapplicable. The essence of re- pentance consists in wishing that we had conduct- ed ourselves in a different manner. These instances abundantly confirm the re- mark of Lord Kaims, that we may wish for 94 HOPE. things not in our power; and they shew that the range of our wishes is of an infinite extent, compre- hending impossibilities, that have a reference to the past, present, or future. (See Note M.) Hope is the encouragement given to desire ; the pleasing expectancy that its object shall be obtain- ed. Without this affection, desire would sink into despondency; like a simple wish it would remain inactive, and prey upon itself; producing perpetual uneasiness, destitute of any advantage. Hope is so pleasing, and so invigorating an affection, that it is emphatically styled the Balm of Life. It pre- serves the mind from stagnating in its present pos- sessions, corrects the uneasiness of desire, and ani- mates it to struggle with the difficulties it may have to encounter. Hope possesses the happy secret of anticipating the good we desire. By the pleasing sensation it communicates, we already taste the pleasures we seek. Where the object has not been of the first importance, the pleasures of Hope have frequently been experienced to surpass those ef actual possession ; for the imagination is, in this affection, solely occupied by the supposed advanta- ges and eligible qualities of its object, without at- tending to any of its imperfections. In its genera. operation, the indulgence of Hope is mixed with certain portions of doubt and solicitude ; but when doubt is removed, and the expectation becomes san- guine, hope rises into joy, and it has been known to produce transports and ecstasies, equally with HOPE. 95 the full accomplishment of ardent desires. Thus, according to the degrees of force with which it af- fects the mind, it may be considered either as an affection or a passion. It also appears that Joy and Hope are very simi- lar in their natures ; and that the pleasing sensa- tions they inspire, are very correspondent. The difference consists in the degree of uncertainty which intervenes before possession, and checks the ardour of hope; and as the object was in expec- tancy, the pleasure is not so powerfully quickened by the influence of Surprise. Yet where the ob- ject has been highly valued, and the anxiety great concerning its attainment, a release from this anxie- ty has communicated a delectable elasticity to the mind, and rendered its sensations as vivid as those excited by more unexpected causes. As the above Passions and Affections are inspir- ed by the contemplation of Good, thus are most of them of a pleasant nature. This is obviously the case with Joy, and all the affections connected with it. Hope is also, uniformly, a pleasant affection. Desire will vary according to its object, degrees of strength, and the different passions and affections so frequently arising from it. Although in its mild- est state, it possesses a degree of restlessness, which serves as a stimulus to exertions, yet its im- mediate attendants give a preponderancy in its fa- vour. Desire, as defined above, has always some species of Good for its object, which is always a 96 HOPE. pleasant object; and it is encouraged in its attempts, by the possibility or probability of attainment. These two circumstances united, more than com- pensate for the degree of restlessness it in general occasions. The sportsman, who delights in the chase, who endures cold, hunger, and fatigue, with more than patience, inspired by the hopes of exer- cising his skill, and carrying home the triumphant, though trifling, reward of his. assiduity, is a just emblem of the state of our minds, in the pursuit of objects we deem of superior importance. Desires are not only comfortless, but approach to misery,— when they are impetuous and ungovernable,—when hopes are frequently checked by disappointments— when patience is wearied out by procrastinations, —and when desires are borne away by the whirl- wind of turbulent passions, which they have excit- ed. The Wish, which characterizes the benevolent heart, is of a pleasing nature. When it refers simply to the melioration of our state, not being supported by hope, it subsides almost as soon as it is formed. It is most painful, when it is excited by our own improper conduct, or by the neglect of advantages which are never to return. SORROW. £7 ORDER II. We proceed to consider those Passions and Affec- tions operating upon the Principle of Self-love, in which the idea of Evil is immediately present to the mind. These are distinguished into three Kinds: the first relates to actual losses and disappointments; the second, to evils of which we are apprehensive ; and the third, to the conduct which seems to de- serve reprehension. They inspire the passions of Sorrow, Fear, and Anger, with their different modi- fications and combinations. It it obvious from this general description of each, that they must be frequently blended together. Partial evils inspiring Sorrow, are frequently the harbingers of others which alarm our Fears; and both the evils we lament, and those we dread, may be occasioned by a conduct calculated to excite our Anger. In consequence of such combinations, many of the affections under this class become so complicated, as to render it difficult to give them a specific arrangement. Those which are the least complex demand our first attention. 13 98 SORROW I. SORROW. It is scarcely necessary to observe, that Sorrow is the direct opposite of Joy. It expresses a men- tal suffering, under the privation of some good which we actually possessed, or concerning which we entertained a pleasing expectation. The one we term Loss, the other a Disappointment. When the loss or disappointment has been very great, and we feel it as a privation of something upon which our affections were strongly placed; when the event arrived in a sudden and unexpected manner, so that the mind was not able to collect itself or prepare for it, this passion produces extreme an- guish. Surprise, Wonder, and Astonishment, exert their powerful influence, and greatly augment the pangs of sorrow. The senses are troubled; the soul is overwhelmed, and sometimes sinks into a painful stupefaction. This state marks the Passion of Sorrow, according to the distinctions noticed in the preceding pages ; for it is here that the mind is perfectly passive. As soon as it is able to collect its powers, it wanders over, and exaggerates, every distressing circumstance, every possible disadvan- tage that may be consequent upon the loss, until tumultuous emotions are excited, bordering upon phrensy. Violent agitations, and restless positions of the body, extension of the arms, clapping of the hands, beating the breast, tearing the hair, loud SORROW. 99 sobs and sighs, manifest to the spectator the inward agony of the soul. Such are the Emotions, which indicate the nature and strength of the Passion. Sometimes a flood of tears relieves these pathogno- monic symptoms. Universal lassitude and a sense of debility succeed, with deep dejection of coun- tenance, and languor in the eyes, which seem to look around, and solicit in vain for assistance and relief. Every thing, which used to communicate pleasure and inspire vivacity, appears frivolous, or becomes indifferent to the mind. The only delight which is now enjoyed, is to contemplate the cause of its affliction; to enumerate all the excellencies and advantages of that which was once possessed, or might have been possessed ; and fondly to dwell upon each. Thus the Emotions gradually sink into permanent Affections. Grief is sometimes considered as synonymous with Sorrow; and in this case we speak of the transports of grief. At other times it expresses more silent, deep, and painful affections ; such as are inspired by domestic calamities; particularly by the loss of friends and relatives; or by the distress, either of body or mind, experienced by those whom we love and value. When the mind is very deeply impressed with a sense of calamity, for a continuance, and the at- tention cannot by any means be diverted from it, the subject is in a state of Melancholy. This affection manifests itself by dejection of spirits, debility of mind -vi■:.! body, obstinate am* 100 SORROW. insuperable love of solitude, universal apathy, and a confirmed listlessness, which emaciate the cor- poreal system, and not unfrequently trouble the brain. It is a striking characteristic of deep Sorrow that it is of a tacit and uncommunicative nature. In this also it is the opposite to Joy. After the violent effusions of the mind, in the first emotions. it subsides into a pensive and reserved state. It attempts concealment, even from the bosom of a friend ; like Viola in Shakspeare, Who never told her love: But let concealment, like a worm io the bud, Feed on her damask caeel. This disposition may proceed from some peculiar delicacy in the cause of grief,—from that indolence, which is the reverse both of the vivacity and loqua- city of joy,—from the apprehension that the many will not sympathize with the sufferer,—and from a reluctance to afflict the few that will. The above remarks refer to Sorrow, when it is excited by more simple causes, and is unconnected with any other affection; but it is very frequently blended with other affections, by means of .which it is greatly diversified. Sometimes it assumes the appearance of discontent and dissatisfaction. The first is mostly inspired by a comparison of our situation with that of others, and the discovery of SORROW. 101 an humiliating inferiority. The other principally refers to the disappointment of our desires, or to a partial and imperfect accomplishment of our ardent wishes. In disappointments, where the affections have been strongly placed, and the expectations sanguine, particularly where the agency of others is concerned, sorrow may degenerate into Vexation and Chagrin; which are still higher degrees of dissatisfaction. They all imply an irritated, as well as sorrowful state of mind. Impatience, is also a mixture of Sorrow and Anger, under the immediate sensation of something irksome; or at the causes of delay, where any desirable object is in expectancy. Repining, is Sorrow united with a degree of resentment against some superior agent, where the mind dares not to break forth into strong expres- sions of anger. Sympathetic Sorrow, is that species of sorrow we participate with others, in consequence of our social connections, or the general benevolence of our natures. This will be more amply considered hereafter. Of the virtuous affections inspired by Sorrow, which are personal, the most conspicuous are, Patience, Resignation, and Humility. These by their habitual influence often form the disposition and character. In the exercise of Patience, the mind has wisely determined to render the evil as light as possible. 102 SORROW. by counteracting the usual effects of sorrow or vexation. It endures actual sufferings with com- posure, or waits for expected blessings, without a culpable restlessness. In short, patience is a calm acquiescence in a state of which we perceive the evils and discomfiture; by this it is sufficiently distinguished from insensibility. Resignation, superadds to patience a submis- sive disposition, respecting the intelligent cause of our uneasiness. It acknowledges both the power and the right of a Superior to afflict. It is usually connected with a confidence in his justice; and it indulges a hope also in some future exemption, Thus it opposes a fretful repining temper of mind. Humility, is a degree of habitual sorrow, or of painful apprehension,—by which it is connected with fear,—concerning our deficiencies in intellec- tual or moral attainments. It is inspired either by comparing ourselves with others, who appear to be our superior in these excellencies ; or by the con- templation of their intrinsic value, importance, extent, and the obstacles which we have suffered to impede our progress, (See Note N.) We have considered the principal cause of Sorrow to the privation; because the loss of some good is, in most instances, the prevalent idea. Pecuniary losses, the loss of relatives and friends, of their good-will and affection, are obvious pro- rations. Sickness is the privation of health; im- SORROW. 103 prisonment the privation of liberty; and the hard- ships endured in prison, the privation of accus- tomed indulgencies ; calumny and disgrace are the privations of a good character. Yet it is acknowledged, that being in the habit of consider- ing these things as essential to comfort and happi- ness, we view this privation in a positive light; and if we attend simply to the effects, the idea is doubtless pertinent; for all misery, whatever be the cause, is a positive sensation. In bodily pains or corporal sufferings, the evil endured is uniformly considered as of a positive nature; nor does the idea of a Loss present itself to the mind. It would be an affectation of philosophic precision, to consider the agonies of the torture as a privation of former ease. Perhaps the reason of this dis- tinction is founded in our claiming an exemption from pain, as our natural and only inheritance. Every thing besides is an acquisition, either as a gift, or the purchase of our own labour. The following peculiarity confirms this idea; the term Sorrow cannot with any propriety be applied to our bodily sufferings. We should smile at any one, who asserted that he was sorry because he had a fit of the gout, or suffered a public flagel- lation ; though, in fact, the body cannot suffer without the participation of the mind. Hence it appears that the prevalent cause of Sorrow is pri- vation, though the effects are positive misery. 104 FEAR. II. FEAR. The second effect produced by the hatred of Evil, that we shall mention, is Fear. Fear is a painful sensation, produced by the immediate apprehension of some impending Evil. This evil may consist in being deprived of what we at present enjoy, in being disappointed in what we had expected, or in the infliction of a positive misery. The passion of Fear is still more painful than that of Sorrow, which notwithstanding its seve- rity has, when calmed into an affection, some- thing soothing in its nature. Fear produces an agony and anxiety about the heart, not to be described; and it may be said to paralyze the soul in such a manner, as to render it insensible to every thing but to its own misery. Inert- ness and torpor pervade the whole system, united with a constriction of the integuments of the body. and also a certain sense of being fettered, or of being rendered incapable of motion. The eyes are pallid, wild, and sunk in their sockets; the countenance is contracted and wan ; the hair stands erect, or at least this sensation is excited, which every child experiences, as often as he is terrified by stories of ghosts, witches, &c.; the bowels are strongly affected, the heart palpitates, respiration labours, the lips tremble, the tongue FEAR. 105 /alters, the limbs are unable to obey the will, or support the frame. Dreadful shrieks denote the inward anguish. These are often succeeded by syncopies, which, while they manifest that the sufferings are greater than nature can sustain, afford a temporary relief. Such are the external signs which indicate the wretched state of mind, under this horrid passion. Since torpor, debility, and painful constrictions, frequently accompany fear mote than any other passion, the Emotions will of consequence be less vivid. Instead of violent transports, a deep de- pression and numbness, as it were, both of body and mind, characterize the passion. These may be visible to the attentive spectator, and are not less expressive of inward anguish. When the effects of fear operate powerfully, without any mixture of hope, these passive im- pressions are predominant: but when there is a possibility of escape, the mind re-acts with won- derful energy. Abject depression is changed into violent agitations; collected force takes place of debility, and tremendous exertions succeed to a state of torpor and immobility. When a personal attack is apprehended, momentary and trembling strength is thrown into the muscles;—the body instinctively places itself in the attitude of defence; —a mixture of fierceness and wild horror is ex- pressed in the countenance, well adapted to alarm and terrify the enemy. If escape be attempted, an unusual energy is thrown into the limbs, en- 14 106 FEAR. abling the sufferer to precipitate his flight, by exertions that would have been impracticable in a more composed state of mind. Consternation. This species of fear is a strong foreboding of tremendous evils, which are likely to follow misfortunes that have already taken place. It may seize an Individual, when surprised by the arrival of some dreadful disaster; or at the instant of his being made acquainted with the event. But it chiefly refers to alarms of a more extensive nature; to those excited by some general calamity, which threatens evils beyond the power of calculation. Earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, inundations, conflagrations, the sudden approach of an incensed and powerful enemy, are of this kind. Here the danger is widely diffused. Fear is rendered contagious; and by the influence of social sympathy, the Consternation becomes uni- versal, without having any particular tendency, or being directed to any particular object. When calamities of this nature arrive in a sudden and unexpected manner; particularly where the ideas of perfect security had been indulged, and perhaps were triumphant and insulting; Surprise, Wonder, Astonishment, manifest their powers, by the augmentation of misery; while a troubled imagina- tion aggravates every possibility of horror. In all these cases, the expressions of fear are wild and frantic. Beating the breast, tearing the hair, loud lamentations, indicate the agony of the soul. FEAR. 107 Perhaps the panic which has sometimes seized a whole army, flushed with victory, will illustrate the preceding observations. Rapid success had inspired the arrogant idea of invincibility. An un- expected defeat has not only subdued this delusion, but given an opposite direction to the active im- agination, and has transferred the idea of invin- cibility to the Enemy. The troops now think that it will be in vain, any longer to resist a power which has shewn itself superior to their own wonted prowess ; and where resistance is suppos- ed to be absolutely in vain, it never will be at- tempted. The force of superstition, either in de- pressing or animating courage, is well known. This has made the most valiant tremble at shadows; and consecrated banners have secured victory over an host of enemies. Even the war- like Achilles, who was the bulwark of the Grecian cause, and whose sole delight was in the tumults of war, trembled at the sudden appearance of Minerva.* Abject fear, which is accompanied by the more silent symptoms of depressed spirits, seems to be inspired chiefly by the idea of an irresistible power in its cause. This also is the faithful companion of Superstition. It is easily excited in feeble minds by every tale of horror. It is very observable in those who are led into captivity, or to prison ; in those detected in the commission of a crime, which exposes them to the severity of the law ; in those * e*y&mv r Afciwiiuc. See Homer. Iliad. A 1. 199- 108 FEAR. who are under the expectation of immediate pun- ishment : that is, in cases which admit of no escape or redress. Terror is that species of fear, which rouses to defend or escape ; producing the violent agitations which have been already noticed. So painful is the passion of Fear, that the evil can scarcely exist, which induces anguish equal to its feelings. Innumerable are the instances in which the fear of a calamity of the greatest magni- tude, has greatly exceeded the miseries inflicted by the calamity itself; and the mind has resumed a tranquillity under misfortunes, which, in the prospect, appeared unsupportable. Busy imagina- tion always magnifies the evil, and casts the darkest shades over every possible concomitant. It cannot indulge the supposition, that any circumstances of alleviation can be attached to a state so much dreaded. But when the dreaded evil is arrived, an immediate release from the agonies of fear, is of itself a species of consolation. In the worst of circumstances, fear yields its place to sorrow; which is certainly some mitigation of suffering:— habit reconciles to many things, which were at first repugnant to our nature:—experience in a short time points out many comforts, where they were least expected:—in most cases, as soon as we cease to fear, we begin to hope; for there are few situations so completely dark and gloomy, as to exclude every ray of consolatory hope. FEAR. 109 The union of such causes sufficiently explains the reasons why, in numberless instances, the agony of actual sufferings, is not so great as the dread of their arrival. (See Note O.) The Affections, that is, the more permanent im- pressions of fear, unaccompanied with external signs to characterize emotions, are principally the following: Dread. This is a degree of permanent fear; an habitual and painful apprehension of some tremendous event, which may be too remote to excite any of the preceding passions. It keeps the mind in a perpetual alarm; in an eager watch- fulness of every circumstance which bears any relation to the evil apprehended. It is obvious, that this strong and painful affec- tion cannot be the result, or the residue of fear, in the same manner as satisfaction may be the result of joy, and melancholy of the transports of sorrow; because it is not susceptible of a retros- pect. When the evil is arrived, the dread of that evil is removed ; though the affection may become attached to some pernicious consequences, which may possibly follow. (See Note P.) Despair. This is a permanent fear of losing some valuable good, of suffering some dreadful evil, or of remaining in a state of actual misery, without any mixture of hope. It generally suc- ceeds to ineffectual efforts, which have been repeat- 110 FEAR. edly made; and of consequence it is excited where no means can be devised, equal to the magnitude of the supposed evil. Remorse has already been placed under Sorrow; but whenever it is connected with a fear of punish- ment, it deserves a place under this passion also, which greatly increases its agonies. When Re- morse is blended with the fear of punishment, and arises to despair, it constitutes the supreme wretch- edness of the mind. Cowardice, considered as distinct from the oc- casional panic mentioned above, is that habitual temper and disposition, which disqualifies from opposing the dangers and difficulties, which ij is our duty or interest to combat. Every indication of cowardice, is an indication of culpable and un- manly fear. Pusillanimity is a feebleness of mind, still more disgraceful; by which it is terrified at mere trifles, or imaginary dangers, unauthorized by the most distant probability. Timidity, though similar, is not so reproachful. The term is chiefly used where there is some apology, from sex, tender years, or feebleness of frame. Doubt, considered as an affection, and distin- guished from simple deliberation of the mind, is a comfortless state, occasioned by the uncertainty of an event, and the predominancy of fearful appre- hension concerning it, though a degree of hope is still indulged. (See Note. Q.) FEAR. ill Irresolution represents the mind as fluctuating between hope and fear; between fits of courage and painful apprehensions, in cases where it ought to determine. It is suspended between probabili- ties of success, and apparent dangers of disappoint- ment. Shame is a painful sensation, occasioned by the quick apprehension, that reputation and character are in danger ; or by the perception that they are lost. It may arise from the immediate detection, or the fear of detection, in something ignominious. It may also arise from native diffidence in young ingenuous minds, when surprised into situations where they attract the peculiar attention of their superiors. In the first instance, the glow of Shame indicates, that the mind is not totally abandoned ; in the last, it manifests a nice sense of honour, and delicate feelings, united with inexperience and ignorance of the world. Modesty may be deemed an habitual solicitude not to offend against any species of decorum ; either by unsuitable behaviour, in which it is opposed to indelicacy; or by too exalted an opinion of our own good qualities, in which it is opposed to vani- ty. It sometimes manifests itself by resenting in- decencies in speech or conduct; in this case it is united with anger. Fortitude, Courage, 'Intrepidity, are affections and dispositions opposed to fear. They are virtu- ous affections, excited alone by exposure to those 112 ANGER. evils, which are usually productive of that emotion- and therefore they deserve to be mentioned in this connection. Fortitude expresses that firmness of mind, which resists dangers and sufferings. It is founded on a resolution of the will to counteract, or to surmount those cowardly impressions, which terrific objects will infallibly make upon inferior minds. It is se- cretly supported by hope, and greatly invigorated by some portion of the angry affections. Courage is active fortitude. It meets dangers, and attempts to repel them. Intrepidity, according to its etymology, proceeds yet farther; it expresses a courage perfectly un- daunted, a superiority to the very sensation of fear; boldly impelling the mind forwards to meet the greatest dangers to which a sense of obligation may expose it. III. ANGER. This is the third strong effect produced by the immediate perception of evil. Anger has been considered as a passion, direct- ed against the real, or supposed cause, of our dan- ger or our sufferings. In the first transport of the passion, a sense of personal evil, unjustly inflicted, is the primary idea; and thus from the effect, the mind makes an instantaneous and powerful transi- tion to its cause. The primary idea entitles, it to ANGER. 113 a place among the passions excited by Self-love ; but many of the effects derived from it properly belong to the social affections, and constitute no small portion of Malevolence and Displacency. The passions of Sorrow or of Fear, do not imme- diately or necessarily, direct the attention to their cause, so as to have an influence upon their specific characters ; that of anger does. Thus it becomes, as it were, the connecting medium between our- selves and others; exciting painful and irritating sensations, which relate to both. We shall there- fore consider, in this place, the general nature of the passion, as excited in consequence of a keen sense of personal injuries, without paying particu- lar attention to its objective cause; and refer its in- fluence over the social affections to the Order as- signed to them. Anger is the strong passion or emotion, impress- ed or excited by a sense of injury received, or in contemplation ; that is, by the idea of something of a pernicious nature and tendency being done or intended, in violation of some supposed obligation to a contrary conduct. It is enkindled by the per- ception of an undue privation of that to which we thought ourselves, in some degree or other, entit- led; or of a positive suffering, from which we claimed an exemption. These are obviously the exciting causes; though our ignorance, or inordi- nate Self-Love, may suggest erroneous ideas re- specting our claims, or render the resentful emo- tion very disproportionate to the offence. The 15 114 ANGER. pain we suffer from the injury, the unexpectedness of the offence, our wounded pride, &c. are so apt to disturb our reasoning and discriminating powers, that we are, at the first instant, prompted to con- sider every injury received, as an injury intended. Nor are there wanting numerous instances, in which an heated and irritated imagination attributes design to the irrational and inanimate creation, in order to gratify the passion of resentment. Anger, viewed as a Passion, that is, as referring to the first impression in which we are passive,— or the impression preceding the external signs, which constitute the Emotion,—may be considered as a painful sensation of a heating and irritating nature. It is an irksome stimulus, by which the animal spirits are troubled and violently agitated. Yet the sensation is not so painful as in the exces- ses of Sorrow or of Fear. When the injury ap- pears great, totally unprovoked, too recent or sud- den for the mind to call up motives of restraint,— when surprise at receiving an offence from a quar- ter the most remote from expectation,—or astonish- ment at base and ungrateful returns for benefits conferred, accompany the first impulse of passion, an ardent desire of revenge is immediately excited. The imagination runs over every circumstance of aggravation ; depicts the offence as a crime of the most atrocious nature ; and vengeance is denounc- ed against the aggressor, as an indispensible obli- gation of justice, and as a retribution due to the violated laws of morals, of honour, or of gratitude. ANGER. 115 The emotions strikingly correspond with this state of mind. The corporeal system immediately as- sumes attitudes and appearances, calculated to in- spire the offender with terror, and preparatory to the infliction of the chastisement, he is supposed to have deserved. The countenance reddens, the eyes flash indignant fire, and the aspect speaks horror; muscular strength is abundantly increased ; and powers of exertion are acquired, unknown to cooler moments. This new appetite for revenge gains the ascendancy, not only over every consid- eration of compassion, but of personal safety, and impels to dangerous encounters, totally regardless of the danger. In some instances, an apprehension of dreadful consequences, a kind of presage of the mischief which may possibly ensue, and become the subject of future regret, intermixes fear with the paroxysms of anger; and a pallid tremour unites with symptoms peculiar to wrath, or accom- panies the first tokens of revenge. Anger is deservedly placed among the most vio- lent emotions. From its ungovernable excesses, it has almost appropriated to itself the term passion. When the paroxysms of anger are excessive, the subject is deaf to the most cogent reasons, or to the most pathetic representations of the mischief it may occasion; and being worked up to a degree of phrensy, he fully vindicates the adage, Ira brevis furor. While he is under the influence of this tur- bulent emotion, the incensed person often imagines that he is solely actuated by the purest love of equi- 116 ANGER. ty, and an ardent desire to administer justice ; though, at the instant, he may be violating the dictates of compassion, in the perpetration of the most atrocious deeds. It is observable, that Sorrow and Fear, though they may be the result of culpable conduct, or even of criminality, are calculated to excite our compas- sion. The anguish manifested by the subject, calls aloud for our sympathy. But Anger, though it is a painful emotion, seldom excites our sympathy with the object himself, unless we suppose him to be in- sane. In most cases our sympathy is chiefly trans- ferred to the object of resentment; prompting us to act as mediators, and to exert all our influence in order to mitigate or avert the punishment to which he is exposed. Anger, in the excess of its violence, when it is excited to a degree of phrensy, so that the mind has totally lost self-command ; when it prompts to threats and actions extravagant and atrocious, is termed Rage. Wrath is violent and permanent anger ; and as such it may be deemed an affection. This may be seated in a breast possessing too much self-com- mand to will the infliction of punishment, though it notices and dwells upon every circumstance of aggravation ; and though it should resolve to pun- ish, it is capable of being appeased by the conces- sions and penitence of the offender. Resentment is a lesser degree of wrath, excited by smaller offences, or by offences committed ANGER. 117 against less irritable minds. It is a deep reflective displeasure against the conduct of the offender. Indignation is a resentment against a conduct which appears peculiarly unworthy ; some atrocious violation of the principles of gratitude, or something which appears peculiarly despicable and base. But we are now trespassing upon the affections which properly belong to another Class, and which will demand our attention under the article of Dis- placency. Anger, and its principal ramifications are general- ly directed against the conduct of others, and al- most universally with superior degrees of violence ; however they are sometimes directed against our- selves, when our conduct has been either negligent or criminal. In Repentance, Contrition, an& Re- morse, Self-reproach, and even Indignation are largely intermixed with the affection of Sorrow. Vexation, Chagrin, Impatience, do not relate to Persons so much as to particular circumstances of a teazing nature. They are chiefly excited by dis- appointments, and tedious delays to the accomplish- ment of our wishes. Peevishness may be considered as a slighter de- gree of anger, perpetually recurring to irritable persons, from trifling causes. It is such a soreness of temper, that it can scarcely suffer the touch of the gentlest hand ; and it resents upon the most innocent, the vexations that have been excited by causes with which they had no concern. 118 ANGER. Although Fortitude, Courage, Intrepidity, have been considered under the article of Fear, as they are virtuous resolutions which oppose themselves to the objects of our fear, or to the dangers which threaten us; yet they might with no great impro- priety have been placed under the passion of Anger. If we advert to the physiological, or rather patho- logical effects of anger, we shall perceive that it rouses the mind, increases muscular strength, braces the system for action, and renders the sub- ject heedless of danger ; and these are the effects produced by Fortitude and Courage. Though that strong irritation of mind peculiar to anger, may not be sensibly felt by generous spirits, and self-command may calm the agitations natural to this passion, as wTell as those peculiar to terror, yet some modifications of it obviously remain. Where courage is merely instinctive, it is manifestly quick- ened by anger; although cultivation and noble principles may suppress the appearance, and almost the sensations, in minds endowed with the virtues of fortitude and magnanimity. It may perhaps be asserted with justice, that some degree of anger is naturally excited by every object of hatred. Though Privation or Danger be the predominant ideas in Sorrow or Fear, yet these are mostly, it may be said, always, accompanied with a sense of injury, in minds not influenced by moral restraints. In sorrows inflicted by a Power against which we dare not to murmur, the irrita- ANGER. 119 tions natural to a wounded mind, may be subjugat- ed by motives of virtue and piety; but without these, it would be strongly disposed to burst forth into frantic and impotent rage. This may be ex- plained by the strength and quickness of our pain- ful feelings, which, at the first instant, dispose us to impute blame where no blame can be attached. History makes us acquainted with many curious instances in the heathen world, where the images of the deities worshipped have been very roughly treated, and even suffered public flagellation, for not having averted the calamities which had been deprecated ; and the repinings of those who have been better instructed, manifest a similar temper, though it may be checked by reverential awe. It is an indication of no inconsiderable progress in reason and in resolution, always to distinguish, with accuracy, between an evil endured and its in- culpable cause ; and to support the calamity with- out the least mixture of Resentment. Nor are these observations confined to the occasions of Sor- row ; in the passion of Fear, the first object being- safety, every other consideration may be suppressed for the instant: but in the emotion of Terror, not only some degree of courage, but a very considera- ble portion of Anger is perceptible ; the rage of a coward despairing of escape by flight is proverbial. The most accurate distinctions, therefore, which we have been capable of making in the above Ana- lysis of the Passions, have been to mark the lead- 120 ANGER. ing characteristics of each. The primary idea ex- citing Sorrow, is that of loss, or painful privation ; that of Fear is danger ; and the genuine idea ap- propriate to Anger is that of injury, or some species of injustice. These are very distinct in themselves, though inordinate self-love so frequently confounds them together. We have thus endeavoured to trace the various Passions and Affections, which are of a personal nature ; and which are more immediately excited in consequence of the principle of Self-Love.—A principle seated in the breast of every individual of our species, from the most ignorant to the most in- telligent ; from the capricious infant, to the subli- mest philosopher. All who are able to discern, or who think that they discern, things conducive to their happiness or enjoyment, are occasionally plac- ed in situations which expose them to the influence of one or other of the above Passions, Emotions, and Affections, in their individual capacities. The Passions and Affections, which belong to the social Principle, next demand our attention. SOCIAL PRINCIPLE. 121 CLASS II. on the passions and affections, derived from the social principle. If our connections with the inanimate creation, expose us to be differently influenced by various powers and properties, discernible in every part of it; if many things around us call forth our passions and affections, by sustaining certain relations with our corporeal and intellectual natures, it is to be ex- pected that a still more intimate connection with the animated creation, should implant within us various dispositions, correspondent to those higher qualities and properties belonging to it. The ani- mated beings around us, not only excite certain Pas- sions and Affections, arising from the principle of Self-love, in common with other parts of nature, but they also are rendered capable of enjoying or of suffering, equally with ourselves; and we possess the power of administering to their well-being, or of proving injurious to it. Rational and intelligent agents, being furnished with certain rules of conduct, which respect both themselves and others, are subjected to various de- grees of approbation or censure, according as they act conformably to such rules, or in violation of them. 16 122 SOCIAL PRINCIPLE. These peculiarities introduce a train of Passions and Affections, very distinct from those which are excited by the selfish principle alone. Self-love confines its attentions to certain qualities and pro- perties, merely as they have an influence upon our own personal welfare; and we deem these qualities good or bad, solely as they produce certain effects upon Ourselves. The Social Principle extends its regards to the state, the conduct, and the character of Others; and it operates according to the degrees of their connection with us,—to their powers of communicating or of receiving from us either good or evil}—to their actual enjoyments or their suffer- ings—to their prospects of future good or exposure to evil,—to their occasional or habitual deport- ment,—and to the degrees of merit or demerit at- tached to their dispositions and conduct, as con- scious and intelligent agents. Numberless are the Passions, Emotions, and Affections proceeding from these different causes ; and they vary in their complexion and character, according to the peculiarities of their excitements. Yet they are all reducible to the two grand distinc- tions which have been already pointed out. They may be placed under the Cardinal Affections of Love and Hatred, in which Good or Evil are the predominant ideas. Nor can there be a disposi- tion in the class of objects now under considera- tion, or of ourselves towards them, which may not, in one point of view or other, be ranged under these general heads. SOCIAL PRINCIPLE. 123 It is obvious that these affections of Love and Hatred, primarily relate either to the Persons, or to the Characters of their objects. The Good refers to that which we behold in them, or wish them to possess; and the Evil to the supposed de- pravity of their characters, or the malevolence of disposition we may entertain towards them. The predominant ideas therefore of good and evil respect these alone. The affections of Love and Hatred are excited, by the immediate interest we take in the merits or the welfare of the objects, or by the personal resentments indulged against them. No one general term is adapted to all those passions and affections, which belong to the social principle. Dr. Hartley, however, has comprehend- ed them all under the name or character of Sym- pathy. This he divides into four Classes : rejoic- ing at another's happiness ; grieving at his misery; grieving at his happiness; and rejoicing at his misery. But the word sympathy,, whether we advert to its genuine import or common usage, is ill adapted to the two last divisions. The usual idea of sympathy is that of suffering with another; which is the most opposite possible to grieving at his happiness, or rejoicing at his misery : the last is not suffering, and the other is suffering in a manner directly contrary. These two opposite dispositions are usually ex- pressed by the opposite terms Benevolence and 124 SOCIAL PRINCIPLE. Malevolence; the first referring to kindly disposi- tions towards its objects, and the other to the reverse. But should they be the best terms we are able to employ, yet they are not entirely unexcep- tionable ; as they do not always convey ideas per- fectly correspondent with the various differences, comprised under these general heads. Benevolence, signifying goodwill, might, accord- ing to its etymology, be considered as applicable to Ourselves as well as to others; yet in its usual ac- ceptation the idea of Self is totally excluded ; and it expresses a disposition directly opposite to the selfish Principle.—This good-will does not indicate itself in all those affections which are ranged under Benevolence. Some characters inspire us with the deepest reverence and awe; which affections, though they do not exclude benevolence, are not immediately inspired by it. Notwithstanding these slight objections, the word appears to be more deserving of being employed, as a generic term, than any other that can be adopted. Were we more familiarized to the signification given to the term Passion, in our introductory Chapter; were it confined to the idea of Passive- ness, whether the cause be of a pleasing or displeas- ing nature, then might we with the strictest pro- priety use the term Sympathy to express a fellow- feeling with another, both upon joyful and mourn- ful occasions. It would be applicable to every coincidence of sensation, sentiment, and disposi- SOCIAL PRINCIPLE. 125 tion, comprehending our good wishes, good opin- ions, and that benignity which rejoices in their prosperity. But even in this case, Sympathy can only be ap- plied to incidental indications of benevolence, and is not to be substituted for the word itself. It will have the same relation to the benevolent Principle as Desire has to that of Love. The Principle of benevolence pre-disposes to these social virtues, and Sympathy engages in particular acts of benevolence. To this sense its etymology necessarily confines it; for we can neither suffer with another, nor have any kind of sensation in common with him, until he be placed in certain situations, with which we are become acquainted. There are much stronger objections to the word Malevolence, as a generic term, than to the preced- ing. It always conveys the idea of ill will to a considerable degree : but hourly instances of dis- placency, and even of anger and resentment, present themselves without any mixture of that ill-will it describes. In some cases, painful resentments may be excited by the purest good-will; as in the anger of a parent towards his child, on account of con- duct prejudicial to his welfare. Even the momen- tary ill-will indulged by a passionate man, seek- ing revenge for injuries received, deserves not to be stigmatized by the odious name of malevolence, which conveys the idea of permanent ill-will. 126 SOCIAL PRINCIPLE. For the above reasons, and from a reluctance to use a term so unfavourable in its complexion and character, more frequently than absolute necessity demands, I beg leave to substitute Displacency as a generic term. Its' superior propriety will be manifest from the consideration, that every instance of malevolence is an indication of Displacency to a high degree, although the latter is not at all times an indication of the former. The reader will not be disposed to censure as superfluous these minute investigations respecting the signification of terms, when he recollects that the want of precision has been the grand source of confusion of ideas, even among philosophers. The least difference in our conceptions, respect- ing the force of words, may direct to very different conclusions. The smallest deviation from the re- quisite point of the compass, will in a short time steer the vessel into an improper latitude. In the prosecution of our Analysis under this Second class, or in tracing the passions and Affec- tions which belong to the social Principle, I shall, according to the plan proposed, divide the subject into two Orders ; the first belonging to the princi- ple of Benevolence, in which the idea of Good is the more immediate and predominant idea; and the second to Displacency, in which the idea of Evil prevails. The benevolent Principle may refer to good Desires and Dispositions, and to good Opinions: SOCIAL AFFECTIONS. 127 which form two distinct kinds or genera. Dis- placency may also be divided into two kinds, Malevolence, properly so called ; and disfavourable Opinion, or Displacency, according to its usual signification. ORDER I. PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS EXCITED BY BENEVOLENCE, IN WHICH GOOD IS THE PREDOMINANT IDEA. I. Those which respect Benevolent Desires and Dispositions. In our general remarks concerning Love as a Principle, we inevitably anticipated some things which properly belong to this branch of our Subject. It was then hinted, that our benevolent dispositions may be directed towards those who are connected with us, in various degrees of rela- tion or intimacy;—to the whole human race indis- criminately, in which it is termed Philanthropy; and to all Beings rendered capable of any portion of enjoyment; or universal benevolence, according to the most extensive sense of the expression. It will not be necessary, in the process of our investigation, to have the distinction between the rational and irrational creation, always in our view. The dispositions towards each are similar ; though rational Beings, from their superior impor- 128 SOCIAL AFFECTIONS. tance, are the most interesting, and the diversity of their situations admits of a greater variety of cor- respondent affections. Both may be comprehend- ed under the title of general benevolence. It will however be proper to remark, that the benevolence which respects our most intimate con- nections, approximates very closely to the principle of Self-love. It considers every thing belonging to its immediate objects, as belonging also to ourselves, and thus constitutes one common interest. Of this kind are all those connections which form the inti- mate relations of life, and create so large a portion of its happiness or its misery. Such are the conju- gal, parental, filial, fraternal relations, various de- grees of consanguinity, and particular friendships. Here the habitual attachments, and benignant dis- positions which the mind experiences, assume the character of affections, by way of pre-eminence. For it is in these relations that the kindly affections manifest the greatest warmth and constancy. The general objects of our philanthropy may possess a portion of our good-will without particular interest being habitually taken in their welfare. The operation of this principle is confined to particular cases and situations, in which they may be inci- dentally placed. Those animals to which we are the most strongly attached, or which we may have appropriated to ourselves, are considered as sustain- ing an occasional and accidental connection ; and when they are the most requisite for our use and comfort, we chiefly value them as the instruments SOCIAL AFFECTIONS. 129 and means of our convenience and pleasure. Their influence is chiefly temporary. They are transfer- red with little regret. The mind may become versatile and changeable towards them, without the imputation of cruelty or injustice. But in the social relation, the kindly affections dwell with the well disposed mind, and me perpetually operative. These social affections may arise from various causes, which give them their distinguishing cha- racteristics ; and they may possess various degrees of strength; which, in most cases, is regulated by the degrees of their utility. Some are deemed in- stinctive; that is, originally implanted in the breast, without the conscious aid of reason or reflection. The love of Parents for their offspring is adduced as an evidence of instinctive affection. This is observable in persons who seem to have eradicated every other social affection. They still retain a solicitude for their young, after they have rendered themselves strangers to every other virtue ; and in- dulge a fondness here, amidst the greatest animosi- ties against those around them. But whatever ideas we may affix to the word instinct, self-love seems to form its basis. Parents manifestly con- template their children as scions from the stem; and the selfish affections accompany them, not only as being their appointed representatives, but as second selves. The superior strength of affection natural to the female breast, which receives a daily increase by unremitted habits of care and attention, 17 130 SOCIAL AFFECTIONS. gives the appearance of a much stronger instinct to the maternal, than to the paternal affections. Some of the social affections arise from the per- ception, or the persuasion of amiable qualities, per- sonal or mental, for which a strong predilection is formed ; as in the conjugal relation. This predi- lection having also a sexual influence, may become a passion, the most impetuous and ungovernable. The sexual passion is rendered remarkable for its contrarieties. It may be considered as the roost generous and the most selfish ;—at once the most interested, and the most disinterested; it is ready to sacrifice every thing, even life itself, for the be- loved object;—but it is anxious to appropriate the beloved object entirely to itself. Where the impetuosity of passion is not succeed- ed by indifference, it gives place to the milder and more permanent joys of conjugal affection. Filial affections, if they do not originate from, are closely connected with an early sense of supe- riority, united with a conviction that this superiori- ty is exercised in perpetual cares and acts of kind- ness. Fraternal affection owes much of its strength to the closest habits of intimacy, the perception of one common interest, and an impressive sense of the inestimable value of domestic harmony. The friendly affections are inspired by the con- templation of pleasing qualities, and the perception of a similarity in disposition. They are always cherished by reciprocal acts of kindness. BENEVOLENCE. 131 All these connections may be said to relate most intimately to Self. They manifest an adoption of others into our hearts. They blend and intermix interests so completely, that the ardent desire of good towards the particular objects of these affec- tions, is not considered as a branch of disinterested benevolence. All the Passions and affections which have been enumerated under the preceding Class, as primarily belonging to the selfish princi- ple, may be excited by the state and situation of those we love, with equal, and sometimes with superior vigour. In events incidental to them, Joy, Desire, Hope, Sorrow, Fear, Anger, become as quick and impetuous, as in cases where our own interests are exclusively concerned : and wherever the Universal Parent has constituted us the agents, or the guardians of the good fortune of others, we enjoy the affections of Satisfaction, Contentment, Complacency, &c. according to the degrees of their prosperity, or, the value of circumstances contribut- ing to it, as if this good immediately pertained to Ourselves. To the good-will which extends itself beyond the circle of personal attachments, and with which our own permanent welfare is not so intimately connected,—to the goodwill which is often exer- cised towards strangers, and which is some times exercised by generous minds towards enemies, is the title of Benevolence usually applied. Because it is here that the innate benignity of disposition 132 SYMPATHY. appears the most conspicuously. In these instances of good-will, nothing selfish appears. The benevo- lence acquires the character of being pure and dis- interested. Considering this benevolence as a Principle con- stituting a predisposition, or a readiness of temper to act in a manner correspondent to the particular situation of the object, the direct operation of this principle will manifest itself by emotions and affec- tions, to which the term Sympathy seems to be peculiarly applicable. According to the observations already made upon Sympathy, it may be considered as an inward feel- ing, which is excited by the particular and extraor- dinary situation of another; or which harmonizes with the condition and feelings of its object. Sympathy indicates a mind attuned to correspond- ent vibrations, whether they be of a pleasing or displeasing kind. Consequently it operates with various degrees of strength, according to the de- grees of danger to which its objects may be expos- ed ;—to the misery they suffer, and the aggravating circumstances attending it;—to the good fortune with which they are surprised and delighted ;—and to their capacities of receiving good. It also dis- poses the mind to accommodate itself to the tastes dispositions, and manners of others, in the social intercourses of life. In this enlarged sense of the term may sympathy be considered as a passion, an affection, and a dis- position. SYMPATHY. 133 In some urgent and extraordinary cases, Sym- pathy rises into an emotion, which yields not, in strength and exertions, to the most violent of the selfish passions. When its object is suddenly ex- posed to some instantaneous and tremendous dan- ger, which demands immediate aid, the whole soul is devoted to the sufferer. Danger and relief are the thoughts which occupy the mind, to the total exclusion of every other. Impelled by this irresisti- ble emotion, the sympathizer plunges into the ocean and braves its billows, or rushes into the midst of flames, regardless of their horrors, to snatch a wretched victim from destruction. He is insensible to personal danger, where it is the great- est. I will not say that he does not listen to the suggestions of prudence, as prudential thoughts are not suggested. There is no passion, excepting an- ger, approaching to madness, which resembles the heedless impetuosity of this emotion. Rage, eager to punish an offence or to revenge an insult, will also rush into danger, and expose its own life in order to glut its passion ; but its pallid countenance and the tremour of its limbs, indicate that Self is always predominant. The impulse of Sympathy renders the generous mind completely courageous. It is a stranger to personal fear; all its anxieties are transferred to the perils of the object. When the evil is less sudden and alarming; when it js apparently of a permanent nature, sym- pathy with distress becomes an affection. SYMPATHETIC SORROW. Sympathetic affections are distinguished into various species, and discriminated by various ap- pellations, according to the peculiarities attendant upon their cause, or the particular state of their object. They may be divided into those which respect Distress, Prosperity, Imitation. Of those which respect Distress, the following are the principal. Compassion. Compassion is that species of af- fection, which is excited, either by the actual dis- tress of its object, or by some impending calamity which appears inevitable. It is a benevolent sor- row at their sufferings, or their approaching misery. The etymology of the word expreses this idea with strict propriety; as it signifies suffering with the object. Compassion is always connected with a disposi- tion to relieve, and will always prompt to vigorous exertions, wherever there is a possibility of suc- cess ; unless some important considerations should render the endeavour improper or unjust. Compassion has not a necessary connection with the character of its objects. Their distress is a sufficient excitement. It is frequently exercised upon the unworthy, whose reiterated imprudences or vicious conduct, may have been the cause of their wretchedness. From the great extent and universality of this affection, it may justly be con- sidered as a generic name, comprehending several SYMPATHETIC SORROW. t35 other affections which have a more specific appli- cation ; as Mercy, Commiseration, Pity, &c. Mercy is the most exalted branch of compassion. It particularly refers to that state of mind, which induces us to exercise our compassion upon per- sons whose fate is, in some respect, at our disposal. It disposes us to relinquish demands, which, if en- forced to the utmost, would render us the immedi- ate agents of misery. It is peculiarly applicable to unworthy or criminal behaviour towards ourselves, which would inevitably involve the offender in dis- tress, were we to be tenacious of our rights. In a word, it is that dignified compassion which induces us to suppress resentment, to pardon offences, or mitigate punishments, as far as discretion may ad- mit. Commiseration. Although this term seems sy- nonymous with the preceding, yet in its general use, it is somewhat different. It is always pre- ferred when we wish to express our sympathy for misfortunes, which it is not in our power to re- move ; or for which there is no apparent remedy. Commiseration, ruminating upon the state and suf- ferings of others, induces a permanent concern. In such cases it may be said that we commiserate the unfortunate sufferer, rather than that we have compassion upon him. But although this is a more helpless, it is not an useless affection. It soothes the mind of the afflicted, and greatly alle- viates their sorrows, when every other consolation fails. 136 SYMPATHETIC SORROW. Condolence is the expression of our commisera- tion. Pity is also similar to the two preceding affec- tions, but is more frequently applied to particular circumstances, in the State and Situation of the object, rather than his immediate feelings. Thus we often pity those who have no pity upon them- selves ; whose dispositions and conduct are leading them into evils, of which they entertain no appre- hensions, or concerning which they are not solicit- ous. The decrepit and infirm also are the objects of our pity, though they may sustain their infirmi- ties with an enviable cheerfulness. Children ren- dered destitute of worthy and affectionate parents, and exposed to future calamities, of which they are unconscious, are deemed peculiar objects of pity. Nay, their ignorance of their misfortunes augments the force of our sympathetic feelings. Generosity is the disposition which prompts us to bestow favours, which are not the purchase of any particular merit. It has not, like mercy, any immediate relation either to imprudences or crimi- nality. It is benevolence sympathizing with some peculiarities in the state or circumstances of ano- ther, which demand our aid, either in the remis- sion of pecuniary claims, in voluntary grants, or in donations and benefactions to assist their indigence. It generally relates to some concessions, sacrifices, or peculiar exertions which have been made, in the exercise of the benevolent principle. The extent of generosity is measured by the advantages and SYMPATHETIC SORROW. 137 pleasures, which have been relinquished in favour of another ; or according to the troubles and diffi- culties which have been encountered, by the bene- factor on one hand, and the slender pretensions of the object to these benevolent offices, on the other. Liberality has sometimes a similar import with Generosity. Sometimes it has a particular refe- rence to the largeness of pecuniary or other dona- tions. In the present day it is frequently applied to sentiments respecting another. It is used in op- position to a narrow contracted mode of thinking, or to a censorious disposition, inspired by a diffe- rence of opinion. It expresses a freedom from the bias of prejudice or partiality. The man who is disposed to think well of, and act with kindness towards persons, whose religious or political creed differs materially from his own, is deemed Liberal- minded. Thus may Liberality be considered as a species of generosity, which usage chiefly applies to free donations, or to subduing unfavourable pre-posses- sions respecting the opinions of another. It is a liberation from the confined manner of acting, or of thinking, which characterizes either the parsi- monious or the bigot. Charity, in its original import, is synonymous with Love. In its application it is sometimes used to express a disposition to entertain a favourable opinion of the moral character or conduct of others, in opposition to unfavourable reports, until the strongest evidences implant conviction; at other 18 138 SYMPATHETIC SORROW. times, it signifies giving of alms, and doing good to inferiors. Benevolent exertions in behalf of the wretched, or the oppressed, are deemed acts of charity. Condescension is that species of benevolence, which designedly waves the supposed advantages of birth, title, or station, in order to accommodate ourselves to the state of an inferior, and to dimin- ish that restraint which the apparent distance is calculated to produce in him. It greatly enhances the value of every other species of benevolence. From the above analysis we perceive, that Mer- cy, Commiseration, Pity, Liberality, &c. are diffe- rent branches of Compassion adapted to the pecu- liar situation and exigencies of its objects. While Compassion relates to distress, in general, without minute distinctions, its ramifications respect crimi- nality of character or conduct,—the permanency of distress,—state and situations which strike us as peculiarly unfortunate,—minuter exigencies,—re- putation,—and inferiority of station. It is not always requisite to give to each species of compas- sion its appropriate term ; yet the diversity of mis- fortunes, and the diverse alleviations of each, have imperceptibly introduced a correspondent phrase- ology, which in particular cases, manifests its peculiar propriety. Another important branch of Benevolence con- sists in partaking of the good fortune of others; in SYMPATHETIC JOY. 139 the participation of their Joy, upon the accession of good, or liberation from evil. If the term Sympathy be employed in this con- nection, it will denote a pleasurable sensation ex- cited within us, similar to that enjoyed by the pri- mary participant of good. It is observable that no particular terms are ap- propriated to this species of sympathy. There are no nice discriminations which indicate the different kinds of good, or the circumstances relative to it, in a manner correspondent with those which have been traced under sympathetic sorrow. Freedom from distress, or the increase of actual enjoyment, produces, as it were, one simple effect upon the mind of the benevolent sympathizer, without those various and more complicated sensations, which a diversity in misfortunes may occasion. These pleasing sensations can only be expressed by the general terms of joy, gladness, happiness, &c. We rejoice at the fortunate event which has made another happy ; we are glad to hear of their suc- cess ; are happy to be informed of their welfare, &c. In some instances, this species of benevolence becomes a very lively emotion, and the sudden im- pulse of joy may emulate that inspired by our own good fortune, although the object should be almost a stranger to us. When, for example, our minds have been previously and deeply affected with the knowledge of his distress;—when a prosperous change has suddenly taken place ;—and particular- 140 SYMPATHETIC JO\. ly when this change has been accomplished by the triumph of the party over cruelty and oppression. In such cases, we enjoy this sudden transition from painful to pleasing sympathy, and we participate in that exultation over tyranny or injustice, to which every man entertains an hatred, unless it be his own act. But, excepting upon extraordinary occasions of this nature, our sympathies with the good fortune of others, are much inferiour in strength to those we experience from their distress. Various rea- sons may be assigned for this difference.—The influence of many blessings, newly acquired, may not be so extensive and important, as the influence of a single calamity ;—it is scarcely possible for any one to be elevated to the pinnacle of happi- ness, in so rapid a manner as he may be plunged into the depth of distress ;—good fortune, to what- ever state or circumstances we may apply the term, is generally of slower progress, is accumulated by almost imperceptible degrees, and therefore is not calculated to make a vivid impression at any one period of its progress;—the object may be more deeply afflicted in his relative and social connec- tions, by the misfortunes or irregular conduct of an individual, than he could feel himself benefited by their prosperity ; consequently were we to sym- pathize with him, in a manner correspondent with his own feelings, joyful events could not make an impression upon us equal to his afflictions;—those distresses which call forth our sympathy of sorrow SYMPATHETIC JOY. 141 are generally promulgated to a considerable extent, while recent acquisitions of good, with all the strik- ing circumstances attending them, are mostly con- fined to the narrow circle of relatives and friends. —To these incidental causes we may justly add the wise constitution of our nature, as the final cause. Sympathy with the distresses of another is infinitely more useful than rejoicing in his pros- perity. It is an incentive to administer relief, to annihilate his distress, and to restore the sufferer to the pristine state of ease and comfort; and there- fore is it rendered, by the Great Source of Benevo- lence, more powerful in its influence and opera- tions, than the sympathy of Joy in their welfare; which cannot be productive of equal good. The different kinds of sympathetic sorrow, are admira- bly adapted to the particular state of its objects, in order that each may receive its correspondent benefit. These considerations will explain the reason why an insensibility to the misfortunes of any one, is much more opprobrious than an indiffe- rence to his actual enjoyments. The immediate expressions of our joy are term- ed Congratulations. All the affections excited by the contemplation of Good or Evil, which relate to others, are mani- festly compound. Sympathy with sufferings, is composed of benevolence and sorroiv; and cordial • 142 SYMPATHETIC JOY. congratulations are the effusions of benevolence and joy. It is observable that, in the benevolence we are now contemplating, the affection of Love is not necessarily placed upon the object personally, on account of any excellence of character, or peculiar amiableness of disposition. It rejoices in the well- fare of another, unconnected with his virtues. The Capacity of enjoyment is a sufficient motive for attempting to impart it; and a state of distress is a sufficient incitement to attempt relief. In its noblest exertions, benevolence indicates itself by the communication of good, in opposition to evil deserts, and in a strong propensity to protect from misery, which the bad conduct of the offender has not been able to subdue. It becomes a desire of promoting happiness, too ardent to be extinguished by injury itself. Sympathy is also applicable to the Sociableness of the human character; to the nature of man as formed to live in society. This is manifested by the reciprocal pleasure and satisfaction we experi- ence in our daily intercourse;—by the eagerness with which we receive and communicate tidings that interest our fellowmen ;—by the love of imi- tation, and the readiness with which we conform to the customs, manners, and dispositions, and ac- quiesce in the opinions of others, without attention to the higher authority of propriety or impropriety, or weighing motives and arguments in the balance COMPLACENTIAL AFFECTIONS. 143 of reason. In short, it respects every act, habit, and sentiment, of which to participate in common is gratifying to our feelings, and constitutes so large a portion of the enjoyments and seductions of life. This sympathetic Imitation brings us by imper- ceptible degrees to our Second Division. II. The Affections derived from Good Opinion. In this class of Social Affections, the operations of the Benevolent Principle are not so immediate. Though benevolence is associated, it is not the pri- mary agent. It is rathef a consequence than a cause. It is not our benevolence which inspires us with these favourable opinions, but their good qualities which awaken and direct our benevo- lence. Our affections are drawn forth by an im- pressive sense of some species of excellence in cha- racter; and they may be placed upon objects, whose situations do not require either our sympa- thetic joys or sorrows. These are most properly expressed by complacential regards; for they con- sist both in the approbation of the mind, and feel- ings of the heart. They relate to conduct and qualities, concerning which our judgment pronoun- ces that they possess merit, while they are render- ed interesting by virtue of our social connections. The nature of Complacency, as it refers either to ourselves, or to our most intimate connections, COMPLACENTIAL AFFECTIONS. has already been considered.* I shall only ob- serve in this place, that when we are rendered participants of good, from those qualities which are the proper objects of complacency ; or when we contemplate peculiar marks of mental or moral excellencies, in others with whom we are con- versant, our approbation is accompanied with va- rious degrees of affection for them, although they may not be within the sphere of our intimacy. Of these affections the following are the most conspicuous. Gratitude. Gratitude is a pleasant affection, excited by a lively sense of benefits received or intended, or even by the desire of being beneficial. It is the lively and powerful re-action of a well disposed mind, upon whom benevolence has con- ferred some important good. It is mostly connect- ed with an impressive sense of the amiable dispo- sition of the person by whom the benefit is con- ferred, and it immediately produces a personal affection towards him. When the affection ope- rates according to the natural course of influence, it will be correspondent to the importance of the food obtained,—the distance in station between the recipient and his benefactor,—the small ness of his claims,—perhaps the consciousness of de- serving very opposite treatment. These circum- stances unite to warm the heart into raptures. The grateful mind is impatient of a silent and * See p. 69 passim. ADMIRATION. 145 passive reception of the blessing. It cannot be re- strained from acknowledging its obligations, either by expressions or deeds. It considers every return in its power as an act of the strictest justice ; nor is it deterred by difficulties or dangers from making the attempt. The term most familiarly employed was originally suggested by this idea. The obli- gation is perceived, and felt; and the person bene- fited considers himself as bound, in honour and justice, either to repay or acknowledge the debt, by a bond that cannot be cancelled. We shall not wonder at the peculiar strength and energy of this affection, when we consider that it is compounded of love placed upon the good communicated, affection for the donor, and joy at the reception. Thus it has Goodness for its object, and the most pleasing, perhaps unex- pected, if not unmerited, exertions of goodness, for its immediate cause. Thankfulness refers to verbal expressions of gratitude. Admiration. Although there is scarcely a word in more familiar use than the term admiration. yet much ambiguity has attended its precise signi- fication ; nor have authors of the greatest celebrity, been uniform in the sense they have affixed to it. Sometimes it has been deemed synonymous with Surprise ; sometimes it is used to express Wonder; sometimes it is applied to subjects, as a mark of 19 146 ADMIRATION. degradation; at others, as expressive of excellen- cies. In Milton's Paradise Lost, it is more than once employed to denote wonder. ------------Let none admire That riches grow in hell.-----------■ BOOK. I L. 690. In the following passage of Shakspeare, it ob- viously signifies wonder and astonishment. Lady Macbeth says to her husband, terrified at the sight of Banquo's Ghost, You have displac'd the mirth, broke the good meeting, with most admired disorder. MACBETH. Mr. Pope has used it to express the indiscri- minating applause of Ignorance: For Fools admire, but Men of Sense approve. Mr. Grove defines admiration to be " That sud- "den surprise at the novelty of an object, by " which the soul is fastened down to the contem- " plation of it." He also asserts that " according " to the different characters of its object it is called " esteem or contempt." These significations have doubtless been given in conformity to the Latin words, miror and ad- miratio, which are equally expressive of surprise, wonder, astonishment, and that vivid pleasure ADMIRATION. 147 which the sudden perception of something extra- ordinary is calculated to produce in the mind. But in the most pertinent and appropriate use of the terms to admire, and admiration, they are manifestly deviating from a generic to a specific sense : and in proportion to our advances in pre- cision and accuracy, we feel not only the advan- tage, but the necessity of applying them to some kind of excellency exclusively ; otherwise we shall be destitute of words to discriminate the finest feelings of the soul, from those which are common to the most ignorant and uncultivated. Even Idiots may be surprised: the most ignorant may wonder and frequently do wonder the most; but neither of them are susceptible of that impression which is best expressed by admiration. If we adhere stedfastly to the rule, that no two words are perfectly synonymous, which cannot be used with equal propriety in every possible connec- tion ; we shall find that admiration is as superior to surprise and wonder, simply considered, as knowledge is superior to ignorance ; for its appro- priate signification is that act of the mind, by which wTe discover, approve, and enjoy some un- usual species of excellence. The authority of Poets is of little weight, when we aim at philosophical precision. Their object is to produce some striking effect; and this must be accomplished by other means, than by dividing and subdividing jdeas into their com- ponent parts. Their subjects frequently borrow 148 ADMIRATION. strength from foreign auxiliaries, which they claim a licence to press into their service, as often as they require their aid, in direct violation of primi- tive rights. As the ancient Poets, by the per- sonification of attributes and characters, have peopled both Worlds with innumerable deities, which reason has found it very difficult to expel; thus have Poets, in general, by the use of tropes and figures, by availing themselves of resemblances and affinities of every species, given energy to their thoughts; but they have inspired false ideas, which philosophical precision finds it difficult to eradicate. They have represented things which are not, as if they were; and thus imposed a severe task upon philosophy, to discriminate the differ- ences which they have confounded. Our best prose writers, whose subjects demand an attention to just distinctions, generally apply admiration to some degree of Excellency. " When we have those elevated ideas of nature," says Mr. Dryden, "the result of that view is " admiration, which is always the cause of plea- " sure." Mr. Addison observes, that " neither Virgil " nor Horace would have gained so great reputa- " tion had they not been friends, and admirers of t{ each other." In the following passage, Arch- bishop Tillotson gives a full and satisfactory explanation of the term. " There is a pleasure " in admiration ; and this is that which properly " causes admiration, when we discover a great :< deal in an object which we understand to be ADMIRATION. 149 "excellent: and yet we see we know not how " much more beyond that, which our understand- " ings cannot fully reach and comprehend." (See Note R.) That Excellence which is the subject of admira- tion, may either consist in the intellectual powers of mind, or dispositions of the heart. Admiration may be excited by the contemplation of greatness and extent of genius, by indications of superior talents, by plans and projects which discover great ingenuity in contrivance and invention, or unusual skill in the execution. It is often excited by ex- traordinary exertions of benevolence; such as dangers encountered to protect and save a friend, a stranger, or an enemy ; by the greatness of the sacrifice made to misery, and the compassion that excites to extraordinary acts of mercy. In short, the objective cause of admiration is whatever in- dicates a superior degree of wisdom, ingenuity, good sense, or benevolence. To such qualities it is properly confined. Power abstractedly consi- dered is not the object of admiration ; though the dignified or benevolent exertions of power, to the production of good, may excite the highest degree of admiration, and place it among the strongest of our emotions. It is obvious that the range of admiration is, from the simpler approbation of the mind, up to the most lively sensation, according to our con- ceptions of the extent of excellence, and the degrees of our interest in its effects. It is al^o 150 ADMIRATION. blended with various other emotions, according to different circumstances attendant upon the pas- sion. It is frequently introduced by Surprise; when, for example, the discovery of these excel- lencies is sudden and unexpected; and then it becomes a vivid emotion. It is generally connec- ted with some degrees of Wonder;—as we are so frequently ignorant of the causes which enabled any one greatly to excel ourselves or others : but since it is always excited by the real discovery of some good qualities, it is not to be confounded with an emotion which arises from ignorance and embarrassment, previous to the discovery. When the evidences of wisdom and goodness exceed our utmost comprehension, or proceed far beyond the usual extent of excellence itself, they may excite Astonishment. Whatever is Good, or productive of Good, is the proper object of Love. Excellence must of consequence be peculiarly calculated to excite this affection in a superior degree : hence the pleasing and intimate connection between Love and Ad- miration. When these are united with Gratitude, they constitute the happiest and sublimest affec- tions of the soul. When the object manifests ex- traordinary benevolence;—when immeasurable ex- tents of wisdom and goodness direct power to exe- cute their purpose;—when incalculable advantages are the issue of their united operations, admiration swells into delectable astonishment, and our con- ESTEEM, RESPECT. 151 scious incapacity to fathom is an augmentation of enjoyment. Esteem is the value we place upon some degree of worth. It is higher than simple approbation, which is a decision of the judgment. Esteem is the commencement of affection. It is a degree of love entertained for others, on account of their pleasing qualities, though they should not immedi- ately interest ourselves; by which it is distinguish- ed from gratitude. The term is peculiarly appli- cable to virtuous and amiable dispositions of the heart, such as honesty, integrity, patience, kind- ness, gentleness, &c. which have no necessary connection with the understanding. Thus may we entertain an Esteem for persons of merit, al- though they are at a remote distance from our intimacy: we esteem the character of a person merely from the report of his good qualities. Respect is that favourable impression which the goodness of a character has made upon the person contemplating it, united with a share of good sense. An union of both these qualities is requi- site. Goodness alone is not sufficient to create respect. For should it be seated in a mind which indicates extreme imbecility, it cannot be deemed respectable. On the other hand, superior sense in a mind destitute of goodness, will not. inspire respect. It will either waste itself in idle speculations, which renders it indifferent to us ; or it may de- generate into low cunning, which renders it hate- 152 VENERATION, &c. ful. Should it be connected with power, in a wicked aud perverse mind, it will excite horror and dismay; which are very remote from respect. This affection is always connected with a cau- tious disposition not to disoblige its objects ; in- spiring a solicitude to obtain their good-will. Veneration is a higher degree of Respect; in which the mind seems to be more forcibly struck with wisdom, connected with the sterner virtues. Hence we speak of characters which are more Venerable than amiable. The term is chiefly ap- plicable to wisdom matured by years, or connected with some peculiar dignity of title or office, and indicated by integrity and uprightness. Thus we speak of venerable ancestors, venerable parents, magistrates. &c. from a presumption of their supe- riority in wisdom. Awe is the impression made upon us by the lively idea of Power; a power which would in- spire distressing fear or terror, were it not modified by other circumstances and qualities, suggesting the idea of safety. It may be inspired by things inanimate, when the perception of irresistible pow- er is united with a confidence of safety. Thus lofty mountains, steep precipices, deep caverns, the tempestuous ocean, inspire the mind with Awe, in situations where they cannot injure us. When the emotion is inspired by Character, it acknow- ledges a power, restrained from pernicious exer- tions, either by justice, or benevolence. VENERATION, &c, 153 Reverence is the veneration paid to superior sanctity, intermixed with a certain degree of awe. It is the high Respect paid to the sacred character of its object, attended with a conscious inferiority in moral worth. Esteem and Respect may be in- spired by the qualities observable in our equals, and the former more particularly in our inferiors; but Veneration, Awe, and Reverence imply various degrees of superiority in their objects. It is manifest from the above Analysis, that the qualities which influence our favourable opinions, are various degrees and modifications of Goodness, Wisdom, and Power ; that some of our complacen- tial affections are inspired by the predominance of one, some by the predominance of another; and in some there is almost an indistinguisha- ble union. Gratitude refers to goodness indi- cated by our reception of benefits. Esteem re- fers to goodness in its feeblest indications ; there- fore it is that we frequently express our esteem for the good qualities of the heart, in any one, more than for the soundness of his understanding. Re- spect and Veneration refer to various degrees of wisdom, or intellectual power united with good- ness ; and Awe may relate either to physical or intellectual power, which becomes impressive with- out inspiring dread. Reverence relates to superi- ority in moral endowments, connected with awe at intellectual powers, and a consciousness of our own deficiencies upon a comparative view. Ad- miration may refer to an unusual display of either 20 154 VENERATION, &c. of these qualities, separately; or to the union of them in an extraordinary degree. As self-complacency has its counterfeit in pride and vanity, thus are the complacential affections liable to similar perversion, and give rise to the fol- lowing imperfections. Fondness. Though this affection is frequently pardonable, and sometimes amiable, yet it is an acknowledged weakness. It indicates an attach- ment to whatever belongs to us, or is immediately connected with us, beyond its intrinsic merit. Sometimes it is inspired simply by the idea of its being our own property ; sometimes it is contract- ed or strengthened by habit;—sometimes it is the excess of love, where love is most natural, which indicates itself by infantile manners, or culpable indulgences;—and sometimes it is the excess of affection manifested to inferior animals, to which their superiors have a much better claim. Partiality. This is such an excess of personal attachment as obscures the judgment, or corrupts the heart. It inclines to a more favourable opinion of the motives, conduct, and general merit of its object, than is consistent with the justice due to others. \ When any of the social and sympathetic affec- tions are very strong, they rise to Emotions, and produce some correspondent tokens in the counte- nance. Complacency indicates itself by ineffable MALEVOLENT DESIRES, &c. 155 smiles; the countenance becomes animated, and the eyes sparkle with delight. Sympathetic joy manifests itself by the indications characteristic of joy. Sympathy with distress retains something of the benignant smile, mixed with marks of dejec- tion, of deep concern, or inward anguish. When admiration rises into transport, all the symptoms peculiar to surprise are sometimes mixed with marks of complacential love, and sometimes check- ed by veneration and awe, in which some portion of fearful apprehension becomes an ingredient. In all these sympathetic affections, the Eye is the most expressive. It is properly termed the Index of the Soul. Particular attitudes and ges- tures, and the various forms and plaits of the fea- tures may be counterfeited by the unfeeling heart; but it cannot so easily imitate the brisk suffusions of joy, the sympathetic tear, the deep veneration and awe, and the eager admiration, which real feelings transmit immediately from the heart, into that wonderful organ. ORDER II. PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS EXCITED BY DISPLACENCY, IN WHICH EVIL IS THE PREDOMINANT IDEA. The reason for preferring the word Displacency to Malevolence, as a generic term, has already been given. Malevolence is rejected, as not being so 156 MALEVOLENT DESIRES applicable to every branch of that displeasure we may possibly indulge against others ; whereas Dis- placency comprehends those various kinds of dis- content to which we are exposed, in our social in- tercourse. Displacency may indicate itself by dis- positions exceedingly inimical to its objects, or it may consist in warm disapprobation of their con- duct. In the first sense, it is opposed to the ope- rations of the benevolent principle; and in the other, it is the reverse of complacency, which indi- cates various degrees of affectionate approbation. The word Displacency is solely applicable to our intercourse with the human species, and is not employed to express discontent or uneasiness from any other source. Displacency divides itself also into two kinds. It may be indicated by malevolent desires and dis- positions towards the object: or by unfavourable opinions and disapprobations, without any mixture of Malevolence. I. The displacency which is indicated by ma- levolent desires and dispositions. These may be either of a permanent nature, or merely occasional. The former relates to that Malevolence or ill-will which is constant and uni- form in its influence ; the other to the passion of Anger and its various modifications, which have AND DISPOSITIONS. 157 some particular acts of an unpleasing and irritating nature for their immediate objects. The first species of Malevolence is a branch of that general principle of Hatred, which has already occupied our attention. (See Ch. i. Sect, hi.) It originates from various incidental causes;—such as from reiterated injuries, and vexations;—from unjust or exaggerated representations of the tem- per, designs, motives, conduct of another, which are unpleasant or pernicious;—from the partialities so intimately connected with our social intimacies and affections, which give rise to violent prejudices against those who appear inimical to their inte- rests ;—from a spirit of envy and jealousy, which conneets hatred of the Person with repining at his good fortune. Clans and classes of Enmity may thus be formed, which, augmented by the power of social sympathy, will finally become in- veterate and implacable. Malevolence therefore commences with some idea of evil, belonging to and connected with the object; and it settles into a permanent hatred of his person, and of every thing relative to him. The principle thus formed gives rise to the fol- lowing malevolent affections. Malignancy or Malignity. Both these words express a disposition which cherishes inveterate hatreds, and maintains implacable war against in 158 MALEVOLENT DESIRES object; a disposition which deliberately plans schemes of mischief, and employs every means that power, mental or physical, can furnish to the prejudice of another. These words are nearly synonymous. In some connections, Malignity seems rather more pertinently applied to a radical depravity of nature, and Malignancy to indications of this depravity, in temper and conduct in particu- lar instances. Both may be manifested by the perversion of power, whether physical or intellectual; and our dread of the disposition will be proportioned to our conceptions of the magnitude of this power. Hence the terror inspired by the idea of Demons and wicked Spirits, or Beings of an higher order, who are supposed to be devoid of every thing that is good, and replete with every thing that is evil. So that To do ought good never can be their task, But ever to do ill their sole delight. Mi LTON. To such Beings we ascribe Malignancy to an in- finite extent. Malice, on the other hand, is more frequently employed to express the dispositions of inferior minds, to execute every purpose of mischief, with- in the more limited circle of their abilities. It often shews itself by little incidents ; such as,—by thwarting the favourite purposes of another ;—by refusing the good that might be communicated AND DISPOSITIONS. 159 without personal injury ; by encouraging unfa- vourable reports ;—by raising unjust suspicions ;— by perverse misrepresentations, &c. This temper is sometimes expressed by spite, or by having a spite against any one. Thus, if we ascribe Malignancy to Beings of a superior order, by way of preemin- ence, malice and a malicious disposition, may with peculiar propriety be reserved for the minor agents of mischief, whose power of doing evil is not pro- portionate to their inclinations. Envy. This is a painful sensation excited by the view of something desirable in the state and situation of another, which self-love wishes to ap- propriate. To envy, is to repine at the good con- ferred upon another, or possessed by him. Thus it is a perfect contrast to the sympathy which re- joices at his welfare. Envy entertains a degree of sorrow that the good contemplated should escape ourselves, and of anger that it should fall to the share of another. The inordinate self-love which excites to envy, naturally induces the envious per- son to imagine that he is more deserving, than the object who has been favoured. He contemplates his own supposed merit, in opposition to the sup- posed demerit of the more happy object, until he becomes fully convinced, in his own prejudiced judgment, of the injustice of the distribution ; and feels a spirit of resentment arising against the pos- sessor, and every cause of his enjoyment. Thus is envy that species of malevolence, which is inspired by the conjoined influence of pride, sor- row, and anger. 160 MALEVOLENT DESIRES Envy is denominated a passion, together with many other of the malevolent affections; partly because it may be very strongly excited by particu- lar incidents, and partly in consequence of that sin- gular law of usuage which assigns the word Affec- tions to the benevolent feelings, and Passions to the powerful influence of vicious dispositions. (See Ch. i. Page 3.) Rancour is that degree of malice which preys upon the possessor. His heart is torn with vexation when he contemplates the happiness of another, or when he is foiled in his evil purposes towards him. Cruelty. A cruel disposition respects the particu- lar temper manifested in the contemplation or in- fliction of absolute misery. It has various degrees. Sometimes it is expressive of that hardness of heart, which is able to look upon extreme distress with- out any sensations of humanity. Sometimes cruel- ty is indicated by the voluntary and unnecessary infliction of misery : and in its highest state it re- joices and triumphs in the diffusion of horrors; in the wanton shedding of blood, and spreading deso- lation. It is gratified with the convulsions of agony; groans and lamentations are music in its ears. This fiend-like temper may proceed from a natu- ral insensibility, strengthened by a perverse educa- tion :—from envy ;—from a spirit of revenge for supposed injuries ;—from cowardice, resenting the panic it feels ;—or from insatiable ambition, which wades through torrents of blood, and renders the AND DISPOSITIONS. 161 mangled bodies of the slain, stepping-stones to that pie-eminence of station after which it aspires. Censoriousness is a disposition to find fault with the conduct, sentiments, or dispositions of another, deeming every action improper, or ascribing it to improper motives. Prejudice is the reverse of partiality. This in- clines to the favourable side in judging or vindicat- ing of conduct, more than reason or charity de- mands ; prejudice, on the contrary, is that degree of malevolence which disposes us to pre-judge the character, conduct, or motives of another to his dis- advantage, without having the proper evidences be- fore us. It is obvious that the partiality indulged for one person, may excite, or greatly increase our prejudice against another. It is observable that the common use of each of these terms is not entirely correspondent with their original import. Partiality properly signifying a partial and imperfect view of the evidence, is in itself applicable to an undue bias of opinion or dis- position, whether it be favourable or disfavourable to the object; and prejudice as it originally signi- fies pre-judging, is in itself equally applicable to a precipitate decision for or against any one; but custom applies the term partiality to a disposition in favour, and prejudice, without an expletive, to a disposition against another. There is a personal hatred, which has no specific name. It consists of an habitual • dislike against some particular object, without being connected 21 162 MALEVOLENT DESIRES with ill-will, or a desire of his being unhappy. It avoids social intercourse with the party, or renders social intercourse irksome. It is sometimes the re- sidue of anger which forgives, as it is frequently expressed, but does not forget. It is sometimes in- spired by unfavourable reports and misrepresenta- tions, constituting insufferable prejudices; and not unfrequently, by some very disagreeable peculiarity of manners in the object. Ingratitude cannot be termed an affection. It is the negative of a virtue, which a feeling heart places among the first of obligations. It is an in- sensibility to benefits received, either arising from stupidity, culpable inattention, or innate pride, which annihilates the idea of a favour, and con- siders every service rendered as the discharge of a debt. Apathy is a singular stagnation of all the social feelings. It professes neither to love nor to hate ; it affects an indifference to which it cannot pos- sibly attain, as it terminates in a disgust of life and all its objects. Apathy is a kind of gangrene affecting the social principle, which like a morti- fied limb in the corporeal system, is an incum- brance to the patient, and a nuisance to others. Neither dislike, ingratitude, nor apathy, are absolutely chargeable with malevolence; but as thev are the disgraceful negatives of every social affection, and are much more prepared to hate than to love, this seems to be their proper de- partment. AND DISPOSITIONS. 163 The second species of Malevolence relates to those occasional and more transient fits of ill-will, which are excited by particular provocations, and which are not totally repugnant to the benevolent affections. These are indicated by Anger, and its various modifications. Anger has already been considered as the pas- sion which is excited by a quick sense of injury ; and it has been described as having a double re- lation ; the one immediately respecting ourselves, the other respecting the offender. To the first we directed our thoughts under the selfish pas- sions ; where the influence of anger upon our personal feelings, and effects upon the corporeal system, were particularly considered. We shall now confine our attention to the changes produced in our minds respecting its object. As long as we are under the influence of Anger, considered either as a passion or an affection, we experience a temporary suspension of our usual complacency, and even of our good will and general benevolence, towards the object of our displeasure. Under the impulse of the first emotion, we are con- scious of a desire that the offender should suffer, in some degree proportionate to this recent instance of his demerit; we are prompted to imagine that justice itself demands a punishment adequate to the offence; we feel ourselves much inclined to become the ministers of justice, and are impatient of delay in the execution of her commands. 164 MALEVOLENT DESIRES When the provocation arises from the conduct of any one, with whom we are intimately connected, our habitual love of their persons and regard for their welfare, may restrain the passion within the bounds of justice, and the explosion which gave vent to the passion may restore the calm. When it arises from the misconduct of a person, for whom we are particularly interested, and when this misconduct endangers his welfare, the very principle of benevolence converts our complacency into its contrary. In this case, being such an expressive indication of our displeasure as to in- spire terror, it is admirably .calculated to strike the offender with awe, and reclaim his conduct. As soon as passion is able to attend to the united voices of reason and affection, they will frequently join to palliate the offence, by ascribing it to some incidental cause; to the common frailties of our nature, to the strong impulse of particular cir- cumstances, &c. and the offender becomes rein- stated in our favourable regards. But reiterated provocations being indubitable marks of culpable inattention, disrespect, or depravity of disposition, will entirely change our opinion of character, and inspire us with indifference or permanent displeas- ure against the cause. Rage has been described as the madness of anger. Revenge is an insatiable desire to sacrifice every consideration of pity and humanity, to the principle of vindictive justice. It renders the de- AND DISPOSITIONS. 165 mands of that terrific giant paramount to every other claim. It is a propensity to retaliate evil, too fervent to be cooled by time, too deep and inveterate to be obliterated by concessions and entreaties. It anticipates joy in the contemplation of sighs and groans, and the only moment of trans- port is the instant of inflicting misery. We see that this disposition approaches very near to permanent malevolence, of the most despicable character. The abstract idea of justice, hew ever, forms a partition between them ; for to this malevo- lence has no rightful claim. But its more honoura- ble distinction consists in that repentance, which humanity excites in the mind that is not totally ob- durate, after the gratification of this dreadful pas- sion. The avenger feels, too late, that he has sac- rificed realities to a phantom ; and that to inflict misery is in no case, the path to happiness. Wrath is a deep and irritating sense of an injury. It is deliberate anger ; being chiefly inspired by the contemplation of various aggravating circumstances attendant upon the offence. The desire of retalia- tion is not a constituent part of it; by this it is distinguished from revenge. But it occasions a ferment in the spirits incompatible with the indul- gence of complacency. Resentment. This affection has been described to be a deep reflective displeasure against the con- duct of an offender. We may now observe, that re- sentment is chiefly excited by some personal offence, committed against the laws of social intercourse, 166 MALEVOLENT DESIRES of friendship, or of gratitude;—by some affront, that wounds our self-love, it may be, our pride;— by «ome reprehensible inattention to our minuter claims ;—or by the want of respect and affection, to which we imagine that the tenour of our conduct towards the object, has given us an undoubted right. It may terminate in indifference, and, in weak minds, in malice ; but it is generally appeased by concessions and acknowledgments. Suspicion. This is a comfortless state of doubt concerning the conduct and character of another. The mind is greatly embarrassed respecting the de- gree of esteem, cordiality, or friendship, which is due to the object. Suspicion may be excited by some kind of accusation, not supported by evidence sufficient for conviction, but sufficient to trouble the repose of confidence. When exercised towards Intimates, it is an anxious suspension of mind be- tween complacency and displacency ; between that respect we were accustomed to entertain for them, and the painful apprehension that they no longer deserve it. We feel an incipient anger and resent- ment, which we dare not to indulge, and cannot suppress. Jealousy is a species of suspicion that relates to conduct, which still more intimately concerns our- selves. It is a painful apprehension of rivalship, in cases that are peculiarly interesting to us. It will of consequence increase in strength, according to the value we place upon the object, and to the degrees of danger to which we imagine it may be AND DISPOSITIONS. 167 exposed. It is the inseparable companion of the ambitious, who view every competitor, and every one capable of becoming a competitor, with a jea- lous eye. It is sometimes engrafted upon pride, which is deeply wounded by appearances of neglect. It is a frequent attendant upon love; and in a mild- er sense of the term, it may be considered as an anxious solicitude least we should be supplanted in the affections of those we most highly esteem. The passion is sometimes excited in w eak minds, by the very excess of affection ; for this excess is prone to be perpetually upon the watch, and tor- ments itself with groundless fears. Jealousy, in the extreme, contains a complication of the most tremendous passions which can agitate the human breast. Though it has love for its basis, yet it suf- fers the united torments of every painful emotion. It finds equal danger in the most opposite appear- ances. Every token of innocence is interpreted into a proof of guilt; and every instance of affec- tion, as a mark of insulting hypocrisy. It is a green-ey'd monster, which doth make The meat it feeds ol---------------------- ----------------------Trifles light as air Are to the jealous, confirmations strong As proofs of holy writ-———----------- SHAKSPBARE'a OTHEIXO. Under the influence of this baneful passion the mind becomes, at intervals, the sport of transport- ing hope, and wild despair; is alternately torment- 168 MALEVOLENT DESIRES ed, by fits of rage and the depth of contrition, for excesses committed in its transports. In a word, uniting the extremes of dreadful hatred and pas- sionate fondness, it entertains most cruel suspicions of the object it most adores; and is tempted to destroy that which it dreads to lose! The class of evil passions under permanent Ma- levolence, are indications of the depraved character and dispositions of their subject, in whom they are seated, not having any immediate reference to the character of their object. Those which are now described as the modifications of anger, respect the impressions, which occasional deviations from the usual tenour of conduct, make upon the mind of the person most interested ; in which, both the feelings and indications of ill-will are of a more transitory nature ; so that they deserve not to be confounded with permanent hatred. We shall now proceed to consider those emotions and affections which are inspired by the contempla- tion of Evil; and in which neither malevolence, nor any of the selfish affections, are necessary in- gredients. II. The Displacency which is indicated by un- favourable opinions of conduct and disposition. This gives rise to the following emotions and af- fections. AND DISPOSITIONS. 169 Horror. Horror is that very strong and painful emotion, which is excited by the view or contem- plation of something peculiarly atrocious in the conduct of another; by some vice which exceeds the usual extravagance of vice ; enormities that surpass the bounds of common depravity—such as impurities too gross to be named, profligacies too shocking to be repeated, and cruelties which make us shudder at the recital. It may also be excited by the extremes of agony, mental or corporeal, or by sufferings and punishments at which our natures recoil. This passion may be deemed the antipode of admiration. The one is inspired by the contem- plation of surpassing excellency; the other by the excess of vice and wretchedness. As that is one of the most pleasing sensations we can possibly enjoy, this is among the most painful we can possibly suffer. Scenes of the above description excite a tremour upon the mind, a species of terror, scarcely equalled by the most lively apprehensions of danger. Indignation expresses a strong and elevated dis- approbation of mind, which is also inspired by something flagitious in the conduct of another. But it does not always suppose that excess of depravity which alone is capable of committing deeds of horror. Indignation always refers to culpability of conduct; and cannot, like the passion of horror, be extended to distress either of mind or body. It is produced by the violation of some 22 170 . MALEVOLENT DESIRES indispensible obligation, connected with circum- stances peculiarly aggravating ;—by acts of treach- ery, the abuse of confidence, base ingratitude, &c, which we cannot contemplate without being pro- voked to anger, and feeling a generous resentment; though we should not be interested in the con- sequences of the conduct we condemn. Indignant emotions are always excited by particular inci- dents. Contempt. This is a more calm and deliberate affection of the mind. It directs its chief atten- tion to the character and disposition, which is capable of committing unworthy and disgraceful actions. Its objects are radical baseness, and radical imbecility where it ought not to exist. Thus we despise the man who is capable of fraud, deceit, falsehood, and every species of moral de- pravity, which indicates an extraordinary degree of meanness. The man who makes great preten- sions to more exalted powers, and better qualities than he really possesses, and the man who vainly boasts of much more than he can perform, ok courts our admiration of accomplishments of which he is destitute, or which he possesses in a very inferior degree, renders himself also an object of contempt. Thus the characters which are sunk belowr the common level of humanity, and those which ar- rogantly and impotently attempt to rise above it, are universally deemed the proper objects of this emotion. AND DISPOSITIONS. 171 Both indignation and contempt are accompanied with a certain elevation of mind. The observer feels and enjoys a conscious superiority, when he compares himself with the offender. This sense of superiority is more strongly marked in contempt. When it rises to a certain height it indicates, Disdain. Disdain is such a degree of contempt as precludes any commerce with the party despis- ed. It considers him as totally unworthy of our notice;—even of our reprehension, which always supposes a possibility of reclaim. It feels as if there was someting so repulsive in the character of the aggressor, that he is no longer entitled to the rights of social intercourse. Contempt and disdain are often accompanied with a satirical smile, which strongly insinuates that baseness and meanness are also intermixed with large portions of folly. Irrision. This term is employed to express an affection, inspired by any peculiarity in sentiment, disposition, or conduct, that we deem an offence against some acknowledged law of congruity, some standard of propriety universally received and respected; but which is not of sufficient magni- tude to excite anger, or any of its ramifications. It chiefly refers to something odd, whimsical, absurd, which is calculated to excite laughter, rather than incur our displeasure. Various mistakes, and egregious blunders, which indicate culpable igno- rance, inattentions, and extravagances, are the proper objects of irrision. MALEVOLENT DESIRES The above seem to be the principal emotions and affections which are inspired by the contem- plation of conduct and character. They are strong marks of displacency, which does not arise from malevolence in our dispositions, but on the con- trary, from the warm love of beneficent virtue. Nor are they necessarily connected with personal injuries, though a sense of injuries will infallibly impart great energy to each emotion. As anger is the guardian of our own personal interests, thus is the present class of emotions and affections destined to be the guardians of virtue, decency, and propriety in general. It is remarkable that the mind is affected by trans- gressions against these, in exact proportion to the degrees of culpability obvious in the of- fence. Horror rouses within us such a degree of resentment, as becomes the severest reproof to the enormities at which it shudders; and when excited by deeds of cruelty it calls up a laudable spirit of revenge; and it renders the mildest and meekest dispositions solicitous for a power of retaliation. Indignation is always di- rected against the violation of some sacred law, which is respected by every man who is not desti- tute of virtue and honour. Contempt is the pun- ishment directed against that meanness of charac- ter, and perverseness of conduct, which sink a man below the level of social intercourse, and disqualify him for decent and respectable society. Irrision and ridicule are the piotectors of order, decency. AND DISPOSITIONS. 173 and propriety in the lesser departments; against which the transgressor is thus made to feel his of- fence. He is taught to perceive that his conduct or principles are inconsistent with common sense, and to suspect that he is in danger of being ranked in the opprobrious class of fools. The visible tokens of emotion under each species of displacency, are characteristic of its nature. Those painful sensations which are peculiar to the most malevolent passions, legibly inscribe their marks upon the countenance. The deep sunk eye, the pallid anxiety of Malice and Envy, indicate the inward torments of the mind ; and the ineffectual attempts to smile, in transient gleams of satisfac- tion at misery, only serve to render horror more horrid. Fear and dread have been considered as the most painful emotions inspired by the selfish principle; and their pathological symptoms mani- fest an insuperable anxiety and depression. Ma- lignity has adopted these feelings with their exter- nal marks ; intermixing them with the irritations of anger; which, however, it attempts to repress from bursting forth into emotions, through the appre- hensions of detection. The displacency of anger manifests the tokens descriptive of anger, already noticed; which, ac- cording to the degrees of their violence, strike ter- ror into great offenders, or inspire the thoughtless and inattentive with respect and awe. 174 MALEVOLENT DESIRES The horror excited by the excess of wickedness or of misery, approaches to terror, both in sensa- tion and in external marks. Indignation, contempt and disdain, paint upon the countenance a singu- lar mixture of dignified superiority and deep disap- probation. A certain elevation, becoming the ma- jesty of insulted virtue, is united with a lively sense of the depravity and meanness of the offender ; and a contrast is instantaneously formed between ex- altedness of character, and the state of degradation into which he has fallen. The satirical jocularity accompanying contempt, in irrision, throws into the countenance, marks of exultation over the im- becility or absurdities of the ^person ridiculed. Without subscribing to the hypothesis of Mr. Hobbes, that pride is the efficient cause of laughter, it must be acknowledged, that this species of laughter is always accompanied with an insulting consciousness of superiority. In the above Analysis we have attempted to trace the origin of the Passions, their exciting causes, their immediate objects, and their numerous ramifications. We have contemplated the infinite diversity and contrariety of effects, which proceed from that one principle, the Love of Good, in Be- ings formed as we are, stationed in a world where every surrounding object is able to produce its own specific impression ; Beings, whose individual, and whose social interests, are so many, various and complicated. AND DISPOSITIONS. 175 But this Analytical Purvey does not terminate the history of the Passions. There are various other points of view in which it is proper to con- template them, in order to increase our acquaint- ance with the rudiments of self-knowledge, and enable us to draw those moral and practical infe- rences, which may prove most conducive to the love and practice of Virtue. These are reserved for the Second Part of our Treatise. fiND OP PART THE FIRST. PART II. PHILOSOPHICAL OBSERVATIONS AND INQUIRIES, FOUNDED UPON THE PRECEDING ANALYSIS. I PART II. PHILOSOPHICAL OBSERVATIONS AND INQUIRIES, FOUNDED UPON THE PRECEDING ANALYSIS. CHAPTER. I. OBSERVATIONS RESPECTING THE LAWS OF EXCITEMENT. OBSERVATION I. SURPRISE THE EFFICIENT CAUSE OE PASSION. In different parts of our Analysis of the Passions, the influence of the introductory emotions, in quickening affections of the most opposite nature into a passion, has fully appeared. It has been shewn, that whatever strikes us in a sudden and unexpected manner, generally makes, for the in- stant, a more vivid impression, than things and circumstances of much greater consequence, with which we have been familiarized, or which have been more slowly and progressively introduced to our notice. It has been rendered obvious, that 180 CAUSE OF PASSION. Wonder is compounded of surprise, and the im- pression made urion the mind ; by the idea of Intri- cacy ;—and that Astonishment unites the percep- tion of vastness with surprise ;■—we have remarked, that these are, by universal suffrage, emphatically termed emotions;—and we have seen the influence of these introductory emotions, in passions of the most opposite characters. These considerations united make it highly pro- bable, that the essential and characteristic diffe- rence between a Passion and an Affection, depends upon the superaddition of Surprise, to the natural effect produced by the real or supposed quality of an object;—that this Emotion, conjoined with the specific nature of its exciting cause, is virtually the efficient cause of a Passion ; the percussion of sur- prise rendering the affection visible, by characteris- tic signs, correspondent with its specific nature. Thus for example, in Joy, the pleasing part of the impression owes its origin to the possession, or undoubted expectancy, of some desirable good. This, in its lowest influence, produces some degree of change in the corporeal frame. It is a sensa- tion, and must be felt somewhere. The vividness of the impression occasioned by the impetus of sur- prise, renders this sensation more vivid, diffuses its effects over the whole system, and occasions a de- lectable and ungovernable flow of spirits, which becomes conspicuous to every spectator. But as Novelty is the exciting cause of surprise, in pro- portion as the novelty of good subsides, surprise CAUSE OF PASSION. 181 gradually diminishes, and leaves the mind under the influence of an affection, more proportionate to the real value of the object. Thus we may suppose the Passion of Anger, to consist of that disagreeable sensation, which a sense of injury will always occasion, quickened by surprise into an ungovernable emotion. The re- luctance with which we part with any thing con- tributing to our benefit or enjoyment, will be quickened by surprise into the agonies of sorrow; which is also able to convert painful apprehensions into the excess of Fear. Nor does the acknowledged fact, that our pas- sions are sometimes excited by deliberate contem- plation, militate against the opinion. This can only take place in affairs of high im- portance ; and in such cases the more deliberate survey consists in examining, and reflecting upon every circumstance, relative to the nature of the exciting cause, which necessarily produces a varie- ty of new and unexpected combinations, each of which will be attended with a proportionate de- gree of surprise ; and although their may not be in any one circumstance, that quantum of Novelty which so powerfully strikes the mind, in cases that are sudden and totally unexpected, yet, the com- bined influence of the aggregate number of Novel- ties, may finally produce the most extravagant passions. Thus may the mind calculate the varie- ty of benefits accruing from some prosperous event, until it be transported with joy;—enumerate the 182 AFFECTIONS ALONE. evils of privation, until it becomes frantic with sor- row;—dwell upon the number and magnitude of provocations which aggravate an injury, until re- sentment shall be converted into rage;—and by ruminating upon the extent of danger, it may be driven into despair. If this conjecture be admitted, it will give a beautiful simplicity to the theory of the Passions. It shews that they may be decomposed into the simplest elements ; while it indicates the manner, by which the combination of these elements may be productive of such an infinite variety, both in nature and strength. It shews, that the different degrees of force in the quickening agent, or of its reiterated influence, are calculated to give various degrees of momentum to each particular affection. OBSERVATION II. PASSIONS AND EMOTIONS ARE OF A TRANSITORY NATURE ', THE AFFECTIONS ALONE ARE PERMANENT. According to the distinctions which have been made between Passions, Emotions, and Affections, it clearly appears that the two former are in their nature transient, and that the affections are capa- ble of much longer duration. The passions have been represented as vivid sensations, passively or Involuntarily, produced by some strong idea excit- PERMANENT. 18a ed in the mind; and emotions as the external marks of these. But as this passive state of mind is transitory, so are its external marks ; and as both gradually subside, they give place to some corres- pondent affettion, which remains as long as our opinion, and the interest we take in the object, shall continue. It necessarily follows from these facts, that we are not to look to the passions and emotions either for permanent well-being, or for permanent wretchedness. They must either die away and leave no impression, as in cases where the imagination Was deceived, respecting the value or importance of the exciting cause, or they are the harbingers of some more durable affections; and it is the influence of these affections which has the permanent effect upon our well-being. Thus, when we give ourselves over to the delectable tumults of Joy, the joy is incidental. It is hastily introduced by the sudden perception or impressive sense of some acquisition, which we deem impor- tant to present or future welfare; of a something, which we expect to be more or less durable in its nature, or to diffuse its beneficent influence to a considerable extent. These advantages are con- centrated, as it Were, in the imagination, at the instant of joy. They operate upon the mind as the solar rays collected in a focus dart upon the surface of a body ; and though the pleasures of joy are often greater than those derived from its causes, yet we naturally expect much more than the mo- 184 AFFECTIONS ALONE mentary well-being introduced by the emotion it- self. In the first impulse of Sorrow, the magnitude of the loss is the most impressive idea. As the mind becomes more intimately acquainted with the na- ture and extent of the privation, the agonies of sor- row will either subside into indifference, from the perception that the loss was not of that importance as had been imagined, and that it has been amply supplied by some valuable and 'unexpected bles- sing ; or the vivid impression will be effaced by time, which always places before us a variety of objects new and interesting ; or finally, the trans- ports of sorrow will gradually give way to habitual grief and melancholy. Thus Fear is inspired, and becomes agonizing, from the apprehension of some species of calamity; and the influential idea at the instant, is, that by the expected calamity we shall be lastingly deprived of some Good we wish to retain, or that it will be introductory to some durable Evil; though the fear itself may be much more painful than the evil we dread. Anger is roused by an immediate sense of injury committed or threatened; that is, by the apprehension of some robbery of the good to which we have a claim. Here again the mind, compar- ing the present with the past, or looking forwards to the future, perceives or apprehends a disagreea- ble change of circumstances or of state ; and is in- censed against the offending cause. When the first impulse subsides, it is succeeded by the affec- PERMANENT. ia5 lions of grief, resentment, indignation, he. accord- ing to the nature of the insult suffered, or the ag- gravations of the offence , and these become dura- ble as the idea or perception of the injury receiv- ed. Nor does the transition which is sometimes made from affection to passion invalidate these remarks. It has been observed, that when the object posses- ses many complicated and interesting circumstan- ces, these, by being placed before the memory, and distinctly examined, may gradually warm the im- agination, and increase the strength of the affec- tion, until the party be worked up into violent emotions. But when the passions are excited in this manner, they are also of short duration. The preternatural state of mind demands too great an ex- penditure of animal spirits, to render the passion lasting; and it soon relapses into the kindred affec- tion. In cases deemed peculiarly interesting, and in persons of quick and lively feelings, gusts and fits of passion may be frequently excited by the same cause, and the mind may be placed alternate- ly under the influence of the passion and affection ; but wherever passions and emotions are permanent- ly vehement, it becomes an indication of insanity. It is a morbid irritation, over which reason has to- tally lost its controling power. The permanent Affections are therefore to be con- sidered as constituting that habitual state of mind, into which the primary passion impelled it. Our ideas, and with them our affections, concerning the 24 186 AFFECTIONS ALONE PERMANENT. object, are now changed. Instead of our former indifference, we contemplate it with some degree of pleasure or pain, become habitually attached to it, or indulge an habitual aversion respecting it. Thus it is obvious that none of the leading pas- sions and emotions constitute our permanent Wel- fare, or the contrary. They simply manifest the first impression which the sudden change of our state has made upon us. The lasting effects, in consequence of this change, are to be learned from the Affections. If the Good introduced by Joy prove itself to be a lasting good, though it may be partial and incomplete, it may inspire Contentment. If it be the completion of an ardent desire, it com- municates Satisfaction. If it meet with approbation, and be reflected upon as the result of a plan well- intended, wisely formed, and successfully executed, it becomes the source of Complacency. Fear sinks into permanent Dread, or unmixed with any particle of hope, into lasting Despair ; Sorrow into confirmed Melancholy; and Anger into Resent- ment and Displacency. PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS. 187 OBSERVATION III. RELATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS TO EACH OTHER. It has frequently been remarked, that the influ- ence of any particular passion or emotion, disposes the mind to be subjected to some other that is of a similar nature and tendency; while it places the disposition at a remote distance from the affections of a contrary complexion. Dr. Hartley has observ- ed, correspondent to the grand division of the pas- sions which he had adopted, that " the five grateful " passions, Love, Desire, Hope, Joy, and pleasing " Recollection enhance each other; as do the five " ungrateful ones, Hatred, Aversion, Fear, Grief, " and Displeasure." Addison, Hume, Lord Kaims, have made similar remarks, and have adduced the association of ideas as the cause. But as the temper of mind produced by one affection, predisposes to the affection which is most analogous, though it may not be immediately dependent upon it, may we not infer that the association of the Affections will be prior to, and introduce that of Ideas ? Thus, according to the division which has been adopted in this Treatise, not only are gladness, cheerfulness, mirth, contentment, satisfaction, com- placency, &c. the offspring of Joy, but while the mind is under their pleasing influence, it is dispos- ed to every affection of the pleasing kind, which 188 RELATION OF may be inspired by very different causes, or by circumstances too trivial to excite either of these emotions or affections, in its calm and influenced state of mind. Let us suppose, for example, the exciting cause to consist in something merely per- sonal ; yet the pleasing sensation produced, inclines at the moment, to the affections of generosity, charity, sympathy, compassion, and mercy: nay, at such seasons it is disposed to expand, that it may embrace all mankind ; and the humbler acts of vir- tue, with which we might have been contented, at another period, will now appear contracted and Unsatisfactory. Upon this principle is the custom manifestly founded, of making valuable presents to the mes- sengers of welcome tidings, or rewarding them with some peculiar marks of complacency : a cus- tom which has been practised in every age and nation. The overflowings of joy inspire a gene- rosity of temper, which absolutely requires an object; and none can immediately appear more meritorious, than the person who has been the instrument, as it were, or the instrumental cause of Joy. The delectable sensation communicated to the mind of the principal participant, immedi- ately excites in his breast a grateful affection for the person whose communications have been the cause of it; though he may have merely acted in an offi- cial capacity; and possibly, contrary to his secret inclinations. The liberation of captives, and pris- oners of various descriptions, upon accession to PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS. 189 the throne;—the institution of sports and pastimes, that joy may be diffused among the multitude, upon events apparently replete with much future happiness, as on births, marriages, and on the arrival of a young heir to the possession of an ample fortnne;—the pleasing incitements of illu- minations, fire-works, distributing good cheer to the populace, are universally felt as harmonizing with the exhilarated state of mind, which welcome tidings, of a private or public nature, are calculated to excite. In like manner does the lustre of great actions inspire us with a certain respect for those most intimately connected with the Agent, whom we consider as the parent stock, productive of merit in every ramification ; or as able to shed desert over every connection. Under the influ- ence of these grateful and liberal principles, we are induced to imagine that children are entitled to share the rewards due to their parents. Hence those hereditary honours which too frequently ir- radiate the Unworthy, and demonstrate that the generous inference is not always conclusive. From these associating affections it proceeds, that the perception of good qualities centered in the Mind of any one, disposes to an attachment to his Person. Favourable, impressions inspire an inclination to cultivate friendship; and friendship between the sexes has a powerful tendency to inspire love. That love, which, in delicate minds, appears to be at the remotest distance from every thing sensual, will finally excite the stronger and 190 RELATION OF warmer passions. Nor are we without many in- stances of these becoming most impetuous, from their being founded upon sentimental refinements. As the passion of Sorrow proceeds from the loss of what we have loved, it may imperceptibly dispose,—in persons whose passions are strong but very transient,—to the affection of Love towards the object commiserating our loss. No one can appear so worthy of the transfer, as the friend who sympathizes deeply with the affliction. The Poet has justly observed that "Pity is akin to love." In these moments, the commiserator for- gets every fault, even where he knows that fault exists. He brings forward every good quality, which in his Opinion, renders the Afflicted less deserving of their sufferings. We may also add, that the gratitude which this pity inspires, is accompanied with th,e most favourable sentiments of the humane disposition, and has a tendency to produce a predilection for the person of the sym- pathizer. In short, whatever gives birth to any of the kindly affections, may be productive of personal predilections, and terminate in love, both as an affection and a passion. Othello says of Des- demona, " She lov'J me for the dangers I had pass'd, And I lov'd her that she did pity them." Nor can the dramatic Writer be accused of ex- aggeration, who represents the beautiful and ac- complished Zemira, as passionately fond of the PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS. 191 generous monster Azore, whom she at first viewed with horror and detestation. To this pleasing association is it also to be as- cribed, that we are so prone to be blind to the faults of those we love. We are eager to represent to ourselves those persons who have taken posses- sion of our esteem, as being entirely worthy of it. We dwell upon every good quality; we forget, or discover excuses for every defect. It has been remarked, more than once, that whenever an amorous temper has taken a religious turn, it excels in the warmth and fervour of its de- votion. We might urge as an apology, that what appears excellent can alone be the object of love; and where the mind is peculiarly susceptible of excellence, it will evince the warmth and strength of its affection, whether it be placed on our own species, or on beings of a superior order. These two causes united may serve to explain a fact, which has been noted by Rousseau and many others, that the language of religion and of love is so very similar. The Lover also has his idol; adores her perfections, calls her angelic; talks of altars, prostrations, vows, sacrifices, &c. That is, what is human, in the warmth of his affection, he contemplates as divine; and the person who has some striking accomplishments, he pronounces to be perfection itself. The connection between the disagreeable pas- sions and affections is not less obvious. The vari- 195 RELATION OF ous affections originating from the idea of Evil, whether it be past, present, or apprehended, are so closely united, that they can scarcely be consider- ed as illustrations of the subject. We are, for ex- ample, disposed to be angry at whatever occasions sorrow, and there is a vindictiveness in fear, which may render it dangerous to its most innocent cause. But predispositions to the indulgence of unplea- sant affections, are generated in cases where the connection is not so immediate. Disagreeable feelings, induced by their proper object, are pro- ductive of other disagreeable affections, where, strictly speaking, there is no proper object. What- ever irritates, renders the mind impatient, peevish, quarrelsome; disposes it to magnify trifles into real grievances, and to imagine a just cause of offence, where, perhaps, approbation has been merited. It engenders suspicions and jealousies, and disposes to envy the peace, tranquillity, or good fortune of an- other. In this state of mind, a transition is also made from things to persons, and some degree of guilt is imputed to the latter, in consequence of the evil passions stirred up by the former. It is upon this principle that Tyrants have been known to sacrifice, in the impetuosity of their vexation and rage, the innocent messengers of evil tidings. Thus has Homer, that faithful historian of nature, represented Agamemnon, as pouring out a torrent of invectives against the harmless and venerable priest, who was compelled, by virtue of his office, to utter unwelcome truths. PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS. 193 M The Prophet spoke : when with a gloomy frown The monarch started from his shining throne ; Black choler fill'd his breast, that boil'd witb ire, And from his eye-balls flash'd the living fire. Augur accurst! denouncing migchief still, Prophet of plagues, for ever boding ill! Still must that toDgue some wounding message bring, And still thy priestly pride provoke thy King ?" pope's homer, il. 1. l. 127. It is thus that not only the " Genus Irritabile Va- " turn," but controversial authors of all descrip- tions, have been so prone, in defence of their par- ticular sentiments against their opponents, to de- scend to personalities. Theologians in particular have been accustomed to evince their zeal for sac- red truths, by the most unchristian hatred against the imagined supporters of error; and they have not failed to ascribe unworthy motives, or depravity of heart, to those who remain unconvinced by the force of their arguments. This is the latent cause of all those religious persecutions, which have deluged the world with blood, and disgraced hu- manity. As, in the transports of Gratitude, we are dispos- ed to imagine virtues, where they do not exist, thus in the transports of resentment, we are prone to the contrary extreme. A single cause of en- mity blackens the whole character of our antago- nist ; and the man who has been guilty of one fault, that touches us to the quick, becomes, to an heated imagination, the vilest of miscreants. The friends and connections of the Aggressor, are also considered as participants in his crimes: nay, the 25 194 RELATION OF adherents and dependants upon the grand offender, are contaminated by his guilt. *Thus have towns and countries been laid waste without remorse; murder and rapine have been deemed laudable ; aid the sacrifice of thousands, in resentment of the vices and disorders of a few, has been frequent- ly celebrated, as an heroic display of vindictive justice ! Hence it is that disgrace of character is unjustly spread over a whole family, on account of the ill conduct or ignominious punishment of one of its members. Even the unconscious instru- ments of mischief, according to this propensity of our nature, are frequently treated as guilty, or as participants in the crime. Imprudent parents have thus nourished a spirit of revenge in their children, by encouraging them to beat the playthings which have accidentally given them pain, or the ground against which they have fallen. It is recorded of the celebrated Cranmer, who flourished in the reign of Queen Mary, that having repented of his impiety, in yielding to the solicitations of the priesthood, and seductive pro- mises of the court, and signed an acknowledgment of the Pope's supremacy, when he was brought to the infernal stake, he resolutely held the offending hand in the flames, till it was consumed ; from a spirit of resentment at its having been the instru- ment of his apostasy. In this singular instance of imputed guilt, our sympathy with the sufferings of the unfortunate man, our admiration of his mag- nanimity, and our surprise at the strange manner PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS. 195 in which he indicated a pious indignation at his former conduct, furnishes an apology for an act, which, under other circumstances, must have been contemplated as the excess of childish cruelty. (See Hume's History of England, Vol. iv. p. 431.) —For the same reason we admire the undaunted courage of Mucins Saevola, who, as we are inform- ed by Florus, thrust his hand into the fire, because it had not succeeded in its attempt to strike the King of Etruria. But had he caused a Depen- dant to be punished in this manner, for a similar failure, he would have been held forth to execra- tion. It is upon the same principles that the strong impressions of Fear or of Sorrow, change the ap- pearance of every thing around us. Every trifle becomes the cause of terror; and every object loses its power to charm, unless it should adminis- ter to our melancholy. Sorrow naturally disposes to impatience, discontent, and fearful apprehension, in cases which have no connection with the primi- tive cause. Heavy disappointment, where expec- tation was illfounded, forbids us to indulge hope where the encouragement is the greatest Fear and dread dispose to cruelty, to treachery, and sometimes to acts of desperation which resemble courage. As the passions and affections which are most analogous to each other, so readily blend together, or succeed in an easy currency, it is natural to suppose that those which are of an opposite nature 196 RELATION OF and tendency must be repulsive; as joy and sorrow, hope and fear, love and hatred. For although complicated circumstances may place the mind under their influence, at the same period, yet the one is calculated to oppose and check the other; each exerting its characteristic influence. Thus when the success of any desired event is partial, sorrow may accompany joy. The effects of glad tidings are rendered incomplete, by the addition of some mournful catastrophe. When victory, for example, is purchased by the death of a friend, or of a favourite general. In such chequered in- cidents, the mind passes over from one event to the other, and feels the influence of each, separately and alternately. In cases of a dubious nature, the mind is sometimes stagnated, or suspended be- tween hope and fear; and sometimes agitated by each passion by turns. In this manner may love have some intercourse with anger ; as in parents, whose resentment, at the improper conduct of their children, may even be inspired by the warmest affection; and the lover may be tormented by the caprices of his mistress, whom he cannot resolve to hate. The opposite passions and affections are, in instances of the like nature, excited by different and opposite circumstances, residing in the same exciting cause; each producing its own characteris- tic effect. Fear, anxiety, and joy in the extreme are so diametrically opposite, and their pathological effects upon the system so contrary, that an immediate transition from the one to the other is extremely PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS. 191 difficult, if not impossible; and by the violence committed upon the animal system, it might be productive of fatal consequences. It is observable that in such cases, the salutary transition is made through the medium of the pathological effects, which are the usual indications of Sorrow. Tears and joyful lamentations are the first tokens of the removal of excessive fear. A sudden relaxation, as it were, succeeds to the agonizing constriction which accompanies that passion, and this prepares the mind for the pleasing vivacity which is the na- tural character of joy. Every medical practitioner, as often as he has assisted at any painful and dan- gerous operation, which has proved successful, must have observed these effects produced upon the sympathizing attendants; and every affection- ate Female will recollect these singular emotions, upon the happy delivery of her friend, whom she has supposed to be in imminent danger. The singularity may perhaps be explained in the follow- ing manner. Previous to the fortunate issue, Sorrow for the sufferings of the distressed object, and anxious Fears respecting the event, were in- timately blended together; while the pathological tokens of the latter suppressed those of the former. Upon the sudden removal of Fear, its characteristic restrictions are removed, the residue of Sorrow becomes permanent; and the agitated spirits are tranquillized by the effusion of tears. A Melancholy state of mind is most soothed, at the commencement, by what seems to feed its me- 198 RELATION OF lancholy. The excess of grief will listen to noth- ing which is not somewhat in unison with it. It may afterwards be alleviated by a degree of cheer- fulness, in a friend who has wept for the distress, and whose sympathy has thus inspired a confidence. But no greater violence can be committed upon persons in the anguish of sorrow, than an attempt at gaiety, or the proposition of frivolous amuse- ments. Nothing so effectually subdues the violence of Anger, as the fortunate suggestion of ludicrous ideas. Whatever excites a smile or a laugh, excites a sensation totally incompatible with rage, or with deep resentment. It has often happened that a something ridiculous, in the ideas or conduct of the offender, has averted the punishment due to his carelessness and inadvertency ; or that some gay and cheerful thought has at once obliterated resentment, against a conduct not entirely trivial. We are told by ancient fabulists, that when Apollo was about to shoot Mercury, who was disguised as a herdsman, being incensed at this thievish deity, for having stolen some cattle which Apollo was destined to watch, he applied to his quiver for an arrow, in order to revenge the offence ; but discov- ering that the arch thief had prevented the effects of his anger, by previously stealing all the arrows, he was so diverted at the jest that his anger imme- diately subsided. Iracundiam voluptate superante. In the quarrel between Jupiter and Juno, Homer represents the Queen of Heaven as terrified into PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS. 199 silence, and merely attempting to suppress the signs of a resentment, which she could not subdue. But he informs us, that it was the jest of Vulcan, in taking upon him an office, for which he was so ill qualified, and becoming cupbearer, which effec- tually restored mirth and good-humour among the Celestials. Vulcan with awkward grace his office plifs; And unextinguished laughter shakes the skies. Pors. OBSERVATION IV. ON THE SEAT OF THE PASSIONS. It is usual for Writers on the Passions to specu- late concerning their Seat, whether it be in the spiritual, or in the animated material part of Man. Some philosophers place the passions solely in the corporeal system. Among these was the cele- brated Des Cartes. Mr. Grove, on the contrary, defines the passions to be " the affections attended " with peculiar and extraordinary motions of the " animal spirits;" and in opposition to the senti- ments of Des Cartes, he says, " I am inclined to " think that a sensation of the soul generally pre- " cedes a change in the spirits ; external objects " not being able to raise a ferment in the spirits, till " they have first struck the mind with an idea of " something noble, frightful, amiable, &c." 200 RELATION OF Others again, ascribe some of the affections to the animal principle, and some to the rational. Dr. Reid is in doubt whether " the principle of " esteem, as well as gratitude, ought to be reckon- " ed in the order of animal principles, or if they " ought not rather to be placed in a higher order." He has finally, however, placed the esteem of the Wise and Good in the order of animal principles ; not from any persuasion that it is to be found in brute animals, but because it appears in the most unimproved, and the most degenerate part of our species, even in those in whom we hardly perceive any exertion either of reason or of virtue. But, what is still more singular, the same affec- tion is sometimes placed, by this philosopher, under the animal, and sometimes under the rational prin- ciple. Speaking of resentment he observes, " that " sudden or instinctive resentment is an animal " principle, common to us with brute animals ; but " that resentment, which some authors call deliber- " ate, must fall under the class of rational princi- " pies." He also excludes " the parental affection " from the rational principle, because it is not " grounded on an opinion of merit in the object." (See Reid's Essays on the active powers of Man. Es. hi. Ch. 4.) This contrariety of opinions among philosophers themselves, the vague conjectures and arbitrary positions they have advanced, too plainly evince that we are not prepared for disquisitions of this kind. They prove that it will be impossible to ar- PASSIONS. 201 range the passions and affections, with any preci- sion, under these two heads, until we shall have obtained more accurate ideas of the nature of the rational and spiritual part of man, on the one hand, and of the vivified matter which is supposed to constitute his animal nature on the other. Those who place the passions, or any of the af- fections, in the Body, confess that it must be an animated Body. But they do not explain to us the cause of this animation ; or what is that vivifying principle, which so wonderfully changes the pro- perties of the dead, insensible, inactive matter. When we shall know the Cause of sensation or of perception, in its lowest stage ; and when we shall have discovered what that is which thinks, reasons, and wills, we may be better qualified to decide concerning the seat of the passions and emotions. The reason which induced Des Cartes and others, to make all the affections sensual, is ob- vious. It is easy to perceive that we cannot as- cribe affections to the spiritual part of man, with- out admitting the passions also; nor these without being perplexed with the appetites; which, al- though confessedly sensual, frequently excite those emotions and passions, which must be ascribed to the Spirit, if it be susceptible of emotions. But this combination, or reciprocal influence, they deem to be totally inconsistent with those intellec- tual honours which they are solicitous of ascribing, exclusively, to our spiritual natures. 26 202 SEAT OF THE Dr. Reid's embarrassment seems to arise from the expectation that the rational principle must always act rationally; which leads him to infer that whenever the passions and affections do not receive the sanction of reason, they are to be as- signed over to the animal principle. But this hypothesis will tempt us to doubt of the very existence of the rational principle, in numbers of our species. It leads us to conclude that the two natures, deemed so diametrically opposite to each other, possess powers so perfectly similar, that it is difficult for the keenest discernment to distin- guish between their operations; and it compels us to infer, that whenever some of our affections become conformable to reason, they have changed their seat from the animal to the rational prin- ciple. Philosophers and Divines, who distinguish Man into the three several parts of Body, Soul, and Spirit, which, notwithstanding the intimacy of their union, they suppose to be different in their natures; ascribe the appetites to the Body, the passions and affections to the Soul, and to the Spirit, those intellectual powers which seem re- mote from passions or emotions of any kind. By such an arrangement they mean to compliment the Spirit with the most exalted station ; but the hon- our, like many other projects of ambition, is en- tirely at the expense of its happiness. If the affec- tions pertain to the Soul exclusively, that alone is capable of enjoying. The Spirit is deprived of every motive for speculation; and since it some- PASSIONS. 203 times happens that speculations of the most obtruse kind, excite pleasing sensations, the Spirit must certainly perceive, though it has no faculties to la- ment its hard lot, as often as it is conscious that these delightful sensations, which are its own work, are transferred to the Soul. Without entering therefore into enquiries of this nature, which for want of data must be conjec- tural and unsatisfactory, it will be more corres- pondent with my plan, simply to state interesting facts, and leave it to the Metaphysician to draw such consequences as he may deem most legiti- mate. It must be admitted that every passion, emo- tion, and affection, proceeds from certain impres- sions or ideas excited, concerning the nature, or state, or quality, or agency of the exciting cause. These Ideas have undoubtedly their seat in that part of man we distinguish by the appellation of mind. The exciting cause therefore changes the state of the Mind, respecting the particular object. From total indifference it becomes some way or other interested. This new impression, if it possess a certain degree of strength, produces a correspondent change upon the body. Univer- sal observation and universal phraseology, which is doubtless founded upon this observation, unite to evince that a very perceptible influence of every strong emotion is directed towards the heart. The Heart experiences various kinds of sensation, pleasant or unpleasant, over which it has no con- 204 SEAT OF THE troul; and from thence the influence of agitated spirits seems to be diffused over the body. Their more gentle effects are not visible to the spectator; nay, the subject himself is not conscious perhaps of any thing more than, either a change of senti- ment, or the perception of the stronger influence of a former sentiment, connected with something agreeable or disagreeable in this perception; a something which attaches more strongly to the object, or creates some degree of repugnance. This state of mind is styled an affection, and it appears to be totally mental; but stronger influ- ences produce such changes, that the inward dis- position becomes obvious to the spectators, through the medium of the corporeal frame. It is now called an emotion, and this may increase in strength until the whole system becomes agitated and convulsed. From this statement it appears incontestible, that the Affections and Passions have their origin in the Mind, while Emotions are corporeal indi- cations of what passes within ; according to the conjecture expressed by Mr. Grove. It also proves, that to confine the affections to the Mind, and refer the passions to the animal prin- ciple, is to theorize in opposition to facts. For nu- merous instances have presented themselves, in the course of our Analysis, which indicate that the difference between the gentlest affection and the most turbulent passions, consists in degree, not in nature. Whatever produces silent satisfaction, in its mildest influence, will produce the extravagance PASSIONS. 205 of joy in its strongest. Fearful apprehension, in its excess, is terror; and displeasure, in its most in- ordinate exertions, is rage. When the gentlest af- fections are rendered conspicuous, their existence is known by some visible change produced in the countenance, through the medium of the nervous system; while the most violent agitations of the mind, operating upon the same nervous system, produce ungovernable transports. Hence it is ra- tional to infer, that the finest affections, and the strongest passions, are equally sensitive, or equally spiritual in their natures. It is natural for those who favour the hypothe- sis, that man consists of " different natures marvel- " lously mixt," to ascribe the appetites solely to the corporeal system, or to the animal nature of man, and to call them carnal, because the immediate ob- jects of the appetites relate to the wants and grati- fications of the body. But do they recollect that these appetites are frequently awakened by the at- tention paid by the Mind, to their particular objects, exciting Concupiscence, which is always attri- buted to the Mind ? When the desires considered as carnal, are excited by a particular state of the body, that is by certain changes made in the cor- poreal system, which generate particular wants, as in the sensations of hunger and thirst, the men- tal part of our nature is immediately conscious of these uneasy sensations, wills to remove them, and expects gratification in attending to the demands of appetite. Thus the whole man becomes inte- 206 SEAT OF THE rested, without the possibility of placing a barrier, to arrest the operations of the mind, and render the appetite purely corporeal. When the power of immediate gratification is possessed, none of the accessary passions and emo- tions are called forth, and, in some cases, we are not conscious of mental exertions. But if the gratification cannot be immediate; if it be uncer- tain ; if any formidable impediments present them- selves ; then the whole soul is powerfully aroused: hopes and fears are excited concerning the event; anger and jealousies are indulged against rivals and causes of impediments; sorrows and vexations are inspired by our disappointment. These betray the interest which the Mind has taken in pleasures which are termed sensual. Where the indulgence has been illicit, repentance also, and remorse con- fess that the Soul feels itself responsible for grati- fications which are deemed merely carnal. On the other hand, the finer affections of Love, such as the filial, the parental, the social; and be- nevolence in its more tranquil exertions, being so much exalted above the appearance of every thing selfish, and having no immediate personal gratifi- cation for their object, are generally attributed to the higher principle in our nature. But the love of beauty and of attractive qualifications between the sexes, becoming sexual, may create desires de- nominated carnal; and benevolence becoming sym- pathy and compassion with deep distress, produces the corporeal effects of agonizing grief or fear, and PASSIONS. 207 is virtually as sensual or carnal as any of the appe- tites ; though usage is offended at such an applica- tion of the terms. Thus it appears that the grand principles of love and hatred, desire and aversion, produce their ef- fects upon the whole system, when they operate with a certain degree of force : though for the sake of discrimination we give different names to these effects ; and to manifest our sense of the superiority of one class of our desires and affections, when compared with another, we annex various degrees of respectability to those which are most remote from the gratification of corporeal wants. When the affections of love and desire are placed upon objects deemed the most sensual, they are called appetites; and they are stigmatized with the epithet of carnal appetites, because they are merely corporeal in their object, and are peculiarly liable to the most shameful abuse. They begin and terminate in gratifications which do not call forth one amiable quality, or respectable exertion of the Mind. When indulged within the limits permit- ted, they are void of merit; if illegitimate, or in- dulged to excess, they are accounted ignominious. In this singular predicament are those gratifica- tions, which have for their final cause, the support or production of life, exclusively placed. The finer species of corporeal enjoyments, re- ject the degrading epithets of sensual and car- nal with disdain. No one is said to be carnally disposed, when his ears are gratified with the 208 SEAT OF THE charms of music; when his eye surveys the beauties of nature. He is not charged with hav- ing an insatiable Appetite for paintings, or con- demned for inordinate Concupiscence, though he should expend his fortune in making purchases, or exhaust his health by incessant application to the art. For though his senses are equally gratified, as in the other instances, yet the enjoyment is fur- nished by objects which are more dignified in their nature, and have been the result of skill and inge- nuity. It is here that merit commences, both in the power of enjoyment, and in the power of exe- cution ; and language distinguishes gratifications, from these sources, by the more elevated appella- tion of taste. This very term, by the way, is an indication of the power of the object of our pursuit, to elevate our ideas, respecting the expressions em- ployed. The word taste, although it is a metaphor borrowed from one of the carnal sensations, loses the grossness of its original meaning in the new mode of its application. It is ennobled by its ob- ject, till we forget that it is of a plebeian origin. The pleasure derived from agreeable odours being, as it were, the medium between the grosser appetites, and the pleasure inspired by harmonious sounds, or the objects of vision, neither exposed to the disgrace of the former, nor possessing the merit of the latter, has no epithet either of contempt or respectability. When Love and Desire are placed upon nobler objects than any of the preceding ; such as know- PASSIONS. 209 ledge, virtue, or any other mental qualification, the superior dignity of these pursuits, and their ele- vation above every thing deemed sensual, and above the gratification of a refined taste, confer a dignity upon the affections themselves, until they seem to be of an higher origin, and emulate every thing we can conceive of the most exalted Spirits. For we cannot entertain more elevated sentiments of immaterial created Intelligences, than that they possess an ardent love of knowledge, wisdom, and moral obligation. Nor have we any reason to ascribe those powers of the mind, which by way of pre-eminence we de- nominate intellectual, to any other principle than that which is the source of the affections, and is in- terested in the cravings of the appetites. The state of mind, and its conscious perceptions, must vary qccording to the kind of employment in which it is engaged. When its occupation is simply to investi- gate truths of any kind, to examine, deliberate, judge, and resolve, it is in a very different state, than when it is forcibly struck with the beneficial or pernicious nature and tendency of these truths, or of any influential quality with which it is be- come acquainted. It contemplates abstract ideas, which may have a distant reference to utility, in a mood very different from that which it experiences when very attractive, or very alarming properties present themselves to the imagination, whose influ- ence upon our well-being seems to be direct and immediate. 27 210 SEAT OF THE Yet in the calmer exercise of the mind, in its most abstruse speculations, there is a species of permanent pleasure of which it is conscious, and which is preferred, by the philosopher, to the stron- gest emotions, which .>re as transient ns they are violent; until by some new and interesting dis- covery, he is surprised into joy, or intricacies occur which disturb and irritate. lie then experiences, that passions and emotions will sometimes intrude themselves into the apartment, where the door seems to be most obstinately shut against them. Nor can his more tranquil pleasures be ascribed to any other cause than to a strong predilection for the study which most occupies his attention, to his love of knowledge, to the gratification of his curi- osity, to the satisfaction derived from the enlarge- ment of his ideas and improvement of his under- standing, to his ardent desire of discovering some- thing which may extend his fame, or prove benefi- cial to humanity; that is, to honourable, noble, and useful affections. The Reader will perceive that these remarks have not the most distant reference to the grand question, concerning the materiality or immateriali- ty of the Soul. They are simply opposed to those unfounded hypotheses, and vague conjectures, which, instead of explaining any one phenomenon, render our ideas more embarrassed. They indicate that we ought not to multiply principles, until we are qualified to assign to them their distinct offices, without encroachments or confusion. What can be PASSIONS. 211 more unsatisfactory than to suppose the existence of principles, totally opposite in their natures, in order to explain the contrarieties observable in human character and conduct; and yet to allow that, in some instances, the operations of these prin- ciples are so similar, that philosophers themselves cannot ascertain the distinct province of each ? Or what can be more superfluous than to imagine the existence of these distinct principles, merely to confer honour upon the one, and load the other withliisgrace, when the nature of tin, object pursued, and the dispositions towards it, will solve every difficulty ; will indicate an exalted or a depraved state of the Mind, without suggesting a single doubt whether the spiritual man ought, in any respect, to become responsible for the disgraceful propensities of the carnal man, with whom he is compelled to inhabit ? It has been alleged that, during the impetus of passion, the soul is in a state of much greater ac- tivity than at any other period. In most instances this is probably the case. Yet we should recollect that during the excitements of passion, the soul must necessarily manifest the greatest activity to the spectator, from its peculiar exertions upon the corporeal system. Whereas in the exercise of deep thought, the activity of the soul is concentrat- ed within. Of consequence, when the mind is ab- sorbed in profound meditation, instead of indicating more activity than usual, the external appearance 212 CAUSES, &c. will indicate less. Hence it is that deep thinkers are so frequently confounded, by those who are not deep thinkers, with the stupid. In such cases, the activity of the soul can discover itself only by the result of its labours ; or by the injuries which intense application may have committed upon the constitution. Instances have existed in which mental occupation has produced an insensibility to every foreign impression. The subject has re- mained unmoved, in the midst of scenes calculated to excite the most horrid tumults of soul. When the Philosopher of Syracuse was so wrapped in contemplation, as to be insensible to all the hor- rors of a siege, his mind could not be less active than theirs who were the most agitated, by the scenes of complicated distress which surrounded them. CHAPTER II. CAUSES WHICH CREATE A DIVERSITY IN OCR AFFECTIONS, ENUMERATED. It may seem natural to expect that men, formed with similar, and often with equal powers of dis- criminating the nature of objects,—in whom the sensations of pleasure and pain, happiness or misery, are also similar,—and who are exposed to similar causes of excitement, should indicate a cor- respondent similarity in their affections, instead of INFLUENCE OF EXPERIENCE. 218 such a diversity which is so conspicuous, not only in different persons, but frequently in the same person. It is well known that the predilections of individuals, for the supposed means of happiness, are extremely various; that one man will pursue with ardour, what another will contemplate with indifference, or with disapprobation and disgust. Nor is there any person who entertains, invariably, the same disposition towards the same object. At one instant, he will not only feel a much stronger affection for it than he did at the preceding, but he may to-day contemplate, with contempt and abhor- rence, that which yesterday may have excited rap- tures. It is of considerable moment to trace the princi- pal causes of these diversities, or point out some of the circumstances which have a very powerful in- fluence over our minds. The number and extent of these will permit little more than an enumeration. ^ 1. The Influence of Experience. These diversities and changes may, in many cases, be ascribed to the difference observable be- tween the suggestions of a lively imagination, and the more faithful reports of Experience. Our pre- conceptions are seldom accurate. If they be not entirely false, or totally opposite to the nature of the subject, they are almost sure to err on the side of excess or of defect. Experience, in numberless 214 CAUSES, &c. instances, corrects such errors, and teaches us to estimate the qualities of objects as they really ex- ist, and not according to a prejudiced conception, or an heated imagination. This will of conse- quence teach us highly to prize many things, which we had before neglected or despised, and to dismiss, with indifference and contempt, many things on which a deluded imagination had placed our supreme happiness. Such changes will lake place in every individual in his passage through life. Their nature, and the uses made of them, constitute the difference between the wise man and the fool. But there are many other causes, which act more uniformly, upon whole classes and bodies of people, and give to each class a certain cast of cha- racter. Some of these are very similar in their effects; others dissimilar, irregular, and capricious. Among those which are more uniform in their influence, may be placed the distinctions in charac- ter and dispositions observable in the § 2. Difference of Sex. In most animals, of the inferior order, there is a manifest difference between the male and female, both in external appearance and instinctive proper- ties, the former being generally of a stronger make than the latter; and excepting at the moments when the powers of the female are called forth DIFFERENCE OF SEX. 215 to the protection of their young, more courageous in disposition. Similar laws manifestly prevail in the human species. The very form and constitution of the Man indicate that he is rendered capable of more robust employments ; and his stronger contexture is, generally speaking, connected with a disposition to greater exertions: whereas the superior delicacy of contexture which distinguishes the Female, is mostly accompanied with a much greater delicacy of character. Her dispositions to strong and vigorous exertions, either of body or of mind, are not so universal, and she generally piaces her affec- tions upon objects and duties which are more con- fined and domesticated. Nor do the customs prevalent in savage, or less polished nations, invalidate the above remarks. In those countries where bodily labour, or the fatigues of husbandry, are wholly consigned to the females, while their husbands appear indolent and inactive, this indolence is merely the repose enjoyed in the intervals of still greater exertions. War, or the chace, are exclusively their province, and when engaged in these, the men endure much greater fatigues and hardships than those allotted to their partners. It is readily acknowledged that these peculiari- ties of make and of character, are not so uniform as to resist the influence of causes which have a tendency to counteract them. Singularity of tem- perament, the force of custom and education, par- 2 r6 CAUSES, &c. ticular situations in life, may place individuals ot each sex out of their proper sphere, and induce a peculiarity of individual character. But this change seldom meets with the approbation of either sex. An effeminate Man is despised, and a mascu- line Female has little power to charm. An essential difference is also observable in sexual predilections. The female prefers the strong, the bold and courageous, the spirited and enterprising. Her ideas of beauty and comeliness, are, instinc- tively, such as correspond the least with the delica- cy of her own person. Men in general are most enamoured of those qualities and dispositions which indicate a contrary character. They talk of the delicacy of form and amiable softness of the sex. Thev think that the milder virtues sit with peculiar grace upon the female ; such as gentleness, patience, compassion, and tenderness. It is expect- ed that she should excel in piety, in faith, hope, and resignation. Men contemplate a female atheist with more disgust and horror, than if she possessed the hardest features embossed with carbuncles. They excuse, and many are disposed to be pleased with, such foibles as proceed from delicacy of frame, or greater sensibility of mind ; while they express their disapprobation of a bold forward tem- per, though it should be accompanied with a great superiority of talents. Although moral obligation, as referring to the grand standard of virtuous con- duct, may be the same ; yet the rougher vices of oaths and intoxication are appropriated by men; DIFFERENCE OF SEX. 217 while the evasive ones of artifice, &c. are deemed less opprobrious in the female. It is maintained that men are most impetuous, but that females are most deeply affected with the tender passion : that if the man have not a speedy recourse to the pistol or the rope, he will probably survive the agonies of disappointment, under which the softer sex will gradually pine and die. These facts have induced a French author to remark, that women consider love as the serious business of life, and men render it subordinate to many others. It is however universally deemed to be the province of man, first to declare his passion; and it is univer- sally expected that the female should receive the declaration with a modest coyness, and experience some degree of struggle with her delicacy, before she acknowledge the passion to be reciprocal. The female has, in general, a stronger affection for every thing she pursues than men, who are more frequently impelled to act from necessity. She generally follows her inclination in the discharge of her social and domestic duties, as well as in the pursuits of pleasure, elegant accomplishments, or of literature. Those who are of a scientific turn, compensate for any defect in extent of erudition, or depth of investigation, with which they are sometimes charged, by brilliancy of language and beauty of sentiment, which so frequently pervade and embellish their writings. Females are suppos- ed to be much fonder of ornaments than those of the other sex, who are uot reputed fops ; and it is 28 218 CAUSES, &c. said that they more deeply resent any neglect or slight of their persons. They are warmer in their friendships, and their strong attachments can scarce- ly be weakened by any thing but rivalships. If slighter incidents more easily discompose their tem- pers, this is abundantly recompensed by their su- periour patience under severer trials. In cases of extreme danger and difficulty, they have not only been equal to the support of their own spirits, but they have set an example of heroic courage to their desponding Lords. But it is also allowed, that when the female mind becomes thoroughly depraved, they greatly surpass the other sex in cruelty, re- venge, and every enormity ; which is justly sup- posed to elucidate the common proverb, " Corrup- tio optimi est pessima." In giving the above epitome, either of facts or opinions, the author has purposely avoided entering into the controversy relative to rights and powers, or to Equality or Superiority of capacities. He does not wish to draw a comparison between the lustre of the respective virtues, or nicely to balance the respective vices of each sex. His concern is with differences alone. If these exist; if cha- racteristic differences, commencing with early child- hood,—when the little Miss delights in her doll, and arranges her domestic play-things, while her more hardy brother is driving a hoop or whipping a top,—run through every period of life, it is of no moment to the subject under consideration, whether they are to be ascribed to natural and physical, or DIFFERENCE OF SEX. 219 to artificial or incidental causes; or which cha- racteristics have a preponderancy of excellence. (See Note S.) This manifest diversity, and in some respects total contrariety in disposition and character, is necessarily connected with an equal diversity and contrariety of tastes and affections : for the former derive their origin from the latter; the character being itself both formed and indicated, by a series of predilections and aversions. If therefore each sex has its distinguishing characteristics, if their tastes and inclinations be not precisely similar, sexual difference must be productive of different ideas respecting the qualities of objects, and create the most opposite affections respecting them: so that objects and circumstances perfectly the same, shall to each sex appear in different points of view. That which makes little or no impression on the one, being calculated to produce strong emotions in the other ; becoming the source of pleasure or displeasure, of enjoyment, or of infelicity. Another cause which operates in a similar man- ner is ^ 3. Diversity of Temperament. Not to enter into the physiological characteristic of each temperament, concerning which physiolo- gists themselves are not agreed, we shall only ob- serve, what has never been disputed, that there is 220 CAUSES, &c. such a diversity in the original constitution of in- dividuals of each sex, as may not only influence the mental powers, but also the affections of the mind; such as may pre dispose one person to be affected by scenes and circumstances, in a manner very different from another. Some are naturally more irritable in their tem- pers, others more placid : that is, one will perceive and feel causes of provocation in situations or con- duct, which excite no emotions in the mind of another. Some are naturally of a melancholy cast, which spreading a gloom over every object, prevents them from observing and enjoying those qualities which may excite cheerful ideas, and com- municate pleasurable sensations to another. This man is naturally sanguine in his disposition : he forms a thousand projects, and is full of hopes res- pecting each. He is highly delighted with such prospects as are invisible to others; and is charmed with ideal properties, which never entered into the imagination of those who are not under the agreea- ble delusion. The disappointments to which such a temper is inevitably exposed, become plentiful sources of vexation, which the less sanguine for- tunately escape. The timid, on the contrary, ruminate over every possibility of evil. They dare not to indulge hope through fear of disappointment. They see and magnify pernicious tendencies, which were totally overlooked by persons of the contrary disposition. Some are naturally indolent; and this indolence of temper prevents them from per- DIVERSITY OF TEMPERAMENT. 221 ceiving those qualities in objects, which arouse the attention of the more active ; and it induces them to give the preference to their beloved ease. Some are of a social cast; and they discover a thousand joys in society, which appear indifferent or insipid to the lover of retirement. Thus is there a natural and habitual disposition, to be differently affected by the same objects; to each of which the imagination gives a colouring, corresponding with the permanent and characte- ristic state of mind. Another cause invariably produces a change in our ideas and dispositions, towards particular ob- jects, in a manner equally uniform and characte- ristic ; and that is § 4. The Regular Progress of Human Nature, from Infancy to Advanced Age. The changes which take place in our affections and pursuits, from this cause, are incontestibly marked by the hand of Nature herself; and they maintain a degree of uniformity in every person, of every nation and age, whose longevity carries him through each period. The strong desires of the Infant are at first confined to its corporeal wants. No part of na- ture is known to him, excepting that which serves to satisfy the cravings of appetite, and the nurse 222 CAUSES, &<■. who administers it. During this state, agonies of grief and ecstacies of joy are instantaneously excited, and as instantaneously subside. In ad- vancing Childhood, curiosity begins to awake, and increased attention is paid to every thing around us. Our pursuits, our pleasures, our pains, be- come daily more numerous and complicated. With growing powers, the love of action accompanies this inquisitive disposition. The healthy and vi- gorous chiefly delight in those amusements which occupy the mind, increase corporeal strength and address, and imperceptibly enlarge the stock of ideas. At this period, varied affections, and a thousand gushes of passion, engage and agitate the breast by turns. Hopes and fears, quarrels and reconciliations, eager pursuits and quick satiety, occupy every hour. Upon advancing towards Manhood, new passions and desires are implanted. Social connections ac- quire strength and permanency. Sexual affections arise, and the multitudinous passions which sur- round them. Ambition is roused, and means are pursued productive of important ends. Interesting objects crowd upon the attention, increasing the ardour of the mind, and calling forth the most vigorous exertions. Gay and lively imagination gilds every scene with delight, and to enjoy seems to be the whole object of our existence. Parental affections, cares, solicitudes, hopes and disappointments, joys and griefs, of a more durable and serious nature, succeed to the thoughtlessness REGULAR PROGRESS, &c. 223 of younger years. The social affections, which seemed, at an early period, to be instinctive, ripen into a lasting and benevolent concern for the good of others. These manifest themselves, in some characters, by directing the attention to plans and projects of public utility ; while in others, inordi- nate self-love and insatiable ambition become the first springs of action. A placid state of mind and love of ease, naturally form the habitual disposition of the aged. Their other affections mostly derive their complexion from the scenes of their preceding years. Repeat- ed injuries, confidence abused, and various disap- pointments, united with their growing infirmities, are apt to inspire a peevish humour, and render suspicion and the excess of caution, the prevailing disposition. Long habits of frugal industry, joined with repeated observations, or with personal expe- rience, of the dependent and neglected state of the needy, will often create an inordinate love of wealth, which, a conviction that it cannot be long enjoyed, is not able to subdue. A desire of ease and tran- quillity, which now constitute their principal enjoy- ment, is apt to render the Aged vexed and irritated at the smallest interruptions. Some aged persons, on the other hand, acquire a placid cheerfulness, by the recollection both of difficulties surmounted, and of arduous duties performed, which are never to recur. Conscious of having filled the various connections and relations of life, with propriety and usefulness, they have treasured up a fund of com- 224 CAUSES, &c. placency and lively hope, to console the decline of life. Even the difficulties with which they strug- gled, and the dangers they have escaped, now be- come the sources of satisfaction. Thus has every period of life its characteristic influence upon our ideas and our affections; plac- ing objects before the mind, and representing the former ones in very different shapes and colours, from those which first occupied the imagination. § 5. National Customs. National customs, however widely they may differ from each other, have also a very powerful and permanent hold on the affections. For these the inhabitants of every country imbibe a prepos- session, from the earliest infancy. Early habits seem to be propagated with the species ; so inti- mately are they formed and moulded into the growing frame ! and these early propensities are every day strengthened and confirmed by universal example. Custom and habits reconcile whole na- tions to climates the most unfriendly, and to occu- pations the most arduous and servile. What softer natures start at with affright, The hard inhabitant contends is right. The history of the manners and customs of diffe- rent nations, fully demonstrates that they are di- NATIONAL CUSTOMS. 225 vided into large masses of predilections and preju- dices, strong attachments and strong aversions! It evinces the feeble influence of the rational facul- ties, either in forming or correcting customs, the most beneficial, or the most pernicious. Nay, should experience itself begin to suggest better principles to some superior and reflecting minds, ages may roll before any one will venture out of the common course, and attempt to reduce them to action; and his best endeavours will probably be rewarded with ridicule and contempt. Though causes merely incidental may have conspired to in- troduce a peculiarity of manners, and to form na- tional characters, yet being once formed, they be- come the sovereign rule of thought and action. They are diffused over the most extensive com uni- ties ; and unless freedom of intercourse be held with neighbouring nations, not an individual can escape the impression. Thus it is that the inhabi- tants of one district, contemplate those things as essential to well-being, which others hold in abhorrence ;—that one class of people reveres as incumbent duties, observances which others con- template as the greatest absurdities;—that some are invincible attachments to rites, which those who are not under the influence of the same pre- possessions, justly consider as a disgrace to hu- manity. Whether custom should influence opinion, or opinion introduce custom, they both operate upon the affections, and generally manifest the plenitude 29 226 CAUSES, &c. of their power, by the number and magnitude of the absurdities they render familiar and acceptable to the mind. These have for successive genera- tions established the empire of imaginary beings; and the affections of reverence, love, and gratitude have been thrown away upon ideal objects! These have sanctioned the most inveterate hatreds. They have consecrated immoralities, and dignified theft, prostitution, and murder ! They have rendered the austerities of Bramins and Monks venerable to the multitude; have laden the Gentoo Female with insufferable disgrace, who refuses to expire in tor- ments, from affection to her deceased husband ! These, in the most enlightened countries, enjoin it upon the Man of Honour to murder his best friend for a hasty expression, or some other indis- cretion of a momentary transport! Opinion has clothed a frail mortal with Infallibility; has com- municated that exclusive attribute of Deity to Councils and Synods, and bowed the neck of my- riads to the empire of their decrees. It has elevat- ed the worthless into the character of saints, and those who have most deserved the divine indigna- tion have been invoked as the most prevalent in- tercessors ! It has represented the Universal Pa- rent as the tyrant, instead of the benevolent friend of mankind; and it has conducted to the torture those who presumed to think more worthily of him. But the diversities of opinions and manners, with their correspondent predilections and aver- sions, exceed enumeration. It is these diversities THE FORCE OF HABIT. 227 which furnish the amusement derived from the perusal of travels; and as no two nations on the globe correspond in every instance, the peculiari- ties of each, illustrate, in a striking manner, the truth of our observation. They indicate the in- conceivable variety of sentiments and affections, which incidentally take place among beings of the same species, inhabitants of the same sublunary system, conversant with similar objects, and pos- sessing similar powers of mind. § 6. The force of Habit. Similar to the customs which pervade large bodies of men, is the force of habit over Individu- als. The mind frequently acquires a strong and invincible attachment to whatever has been fa- miliar to it for any length of time. Habits pri- marily introduced by accident or by necessity, will inspire an affection for peculiarities, which have the reverse of intrinsic merit to recommend them. These become, as it were, assimilated to our na- tures. We contemplate them as belonging to our- selves so intimately, that we feel an irksome vacui- ty in their absence, and enjoy a great degree of satisfaction in their being re-placed; merely be- cause we have been habituated to them. How frequently does it happen that the most trifling cir- cumstances, in early life, will decide the lot of our future years; creating affections and aversions, 228 CAUSES, &c. which have the most lasting influence ! To this cause we may frequently ascribe, a preference for one trade, pursuit, or profession, rather than for another. Thus we perceive that children some- times make choice of the employments of their parents or their neighbours, because it had agreea- bly engaged the attention of their juvenile hours. They love to imitate and play the man, till an af- fection is acquired for the occupation itself. This is generally the case where the occupation is of an active nature, and most adapted to the vivacity of youth. If, on the other hand, their minds are strongly impressed with the confinement, slavery, or any other disagreeable circumstance attending the employment, to which they are daily witnesses, they are inclined to the contrary extreme, con- tract an aversion, and give the preference to any other pursuit, the inconveniences of which are un- known to them. It is needless to enlarge farther upon these par- ticulars ; as every individual must be conscious of their truth. There is no one who does not feel the power of habit, both as the source of pleasure and of displeasure. It is experienced in every sta- tion and connexion in life. It is experienced in what we eat, or drink, in particular modes of dress, in our habitations and their furniture, and in our own characteristic peculiarities. PRINCIPLE OF SELF-LOVE. 229 ^ 7. Principle of Self love. The influence of this principle has frequently shewn itself in the course of our Analysis. Its tendency to magnify the good or evil which relates to ourselves, is perpetually felt. But we shall now confine our attention to the effects of appro- priation ; or the attachment generated, and the af- fections indulged, respecting every thing we call our own. Mr. Hume has collected together many striking instances of the effect of this principle. (See Dis- sertation on the Passions.) He attributes it to pride; but then he defines pride to be a certain satisfaction in ourselves, on account of some accom- plishment or possession which we enjoy. Without examining the propriety of. this definition in this place, (See Note I.) the influence of Self, respect- ing appropriation, must be universally admitted. " It is always," says he, " our knowledge, our " sense, beauty, possessions, family, on which we " value ourselves.—We found vanity upon houses, " gardens, equipage, and other external objects; as " well as upon personal merit and accomplish- " ments.—Men are vain of the beauty either of " their country, or their county, or even of their " parish ; of the happy temperature of the climate, " in which they are born ; of the fertility of their " native soil; of the goodness of the wines, fruits, " or victuals produced by it; &c." " Every thing 230 CAUSES, &c. " belonging to a vain man, is the best that is any " where to be found. His houses, equipage, furni- " ture, clothes, horses, hounds, excel all others in " his conceit, &c." These, and many other facts, which might be enumerated, indicate an innate propensity to value whatever we possess, merely from the incidental circumstance of its being our own. That this dis- position frequently gives rise to the excess of vani- ty, is not to be disputed : but the disposition itself is so important that it cannot be dispensed with. The strong attachment to whatever is our own, because it is our own, is one of the happiest propensities of human nature. It is the recom- pence of all our desires, pursuits, and exertions. Without this principle, every object in life would appear uninteresting and insipid ; and the majority of our habitual affections would be annihilated. It is this which forms that intimate and pleasing connection with every thing around us; and en- ables trifles themselves greatly to administer to our comfort and satisfaction. But the diversity which it creates in our indi- vidual affections is no less obvious. Every man has a distinct atmosphere of good. A circle which is his own. Every particle composing it, is viewed by another with eyes of indifference; but by him- self with complacency and delight. INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION. 231 § 8. The Influence of Education. By education is understood in this place, any at- tempt to enlarge the ideas and improve the mind by the acquisition of general knowledge, or pro- ficiency in any particular branch. Education in- troduces to an intimate acquaintance with number- less objects, which are totally unknown to the ignorant; and every object possesses some quality of a pleasant or unpleasant nature, proportionably multiplying or diversifying our agreeable or disa- greeable sensations. With the Ignorant, objects are comparatively few. Scenes before them are of no great extent; and even these are overlooked by the majority, whose years pass away in a kind of sensitive indolence, without their testifying the marks either of apathy or affection. Sometimes, however, a natural acuteness of un- derstanding is observable among the most illiterate, accompanied with lively sensations and very strong affections; and when they are once roused, by objects which appear interesting, their passions are most violent. What they know can alone appear important to them, and the very little they possess is their all. Their whole souls are concentrated in that which gives pleasure, and all the powers of body and mind are exerted to repel whatever gives pain. This will indicate the cause of that re- markable strength of passions and affections, both of the benevolent and malevolent kind, so observa- 232 CAUSES, &c. ble in savage nations ; and the impetuosity of cha- racter so often manifested by the active and unin- formed in every nation. The cultivated mind, by increasing its acquaint- ance with innumerable subjects, will inevitably dis- cover some pleasing quality in every object of its pursuit; of consequence, both attention and affec- tions are divided and subdivided into innumerable ramifications ; and thus, although enjoyment may upon the whole be augmented, by aggregate num- bers, yet each individual quality possesses but a moderate share of influence. The Young and Inexperienced are generally af- fected by simple objects. The causes of their joy or anger, sorrow or fear, are seldom complex. When the powers of the mind become more enlarg- ed, the affections are more diversified and rendered more complicated! Thus upon the perception of favours and obligations, the joy from good becomes united with gratitude to the author of that good; with love, veneration, respect, for his character; with admiration at the extent of the good, or at some peculiarity in the delicacy and liberality with which it was conferred. Experience introduces the passions of hope and fear, by teaching us the knowledge of Good worth possessing, on the one hand, and the accidents to which it is liable on the other. It is observable further, that the Young and In- experienced, whose habits are not yet formed, and to whom every thing is new, are most apt to be in- INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION. 233 fluenced by the introductory emotions of surprise and wonder. Their inexperience renders things and events, which are familiar to others, new and strange to them. They are prone to be in ecstacies from acquisitions and advantages, comparatively trifling; and to be agitated by small or imaginary evils, because their imaginations have not been cor- rected by experience. But, if these passions from more simple causes, are frequently stronger in them than in others, it is equally true that their affections are less permanent. A rapid succession of novel- ties, and the immense variety which increased knowledge introduces, quickly efface the preced- ing impression. But this subject is inexhaustible. A whole En- cyclopedia could not do it justice. The infinite diversity of pursuits, which, in the present day, en- gage the attention of an awakened world, exceeds enumeration. Each pursuit is accompanied with its peculiar predilection, and presents an infinite variety of qualities to the inquisitive mind, which excite their correspondent emotions and affec- tions. Other causes which influence our ideas of quali- ties have a very powerful, though very transient effect. They are merely the ephemera of the mind; nor have they that immediate relation to the supposed merit or demerit of the object, which exerts its influence in all the preceding cases. These are the influence of Novelty and of Fashion. 30 234 CAUSES, &c. § 9. Influence of Novelty. As by the power of habit we are reconciled to circumstances, and even enjoy complacency in situations, merely because we are accustomed to them ; thus will the Novelty of an object frequent- ly render it interesting for the moment, and give it a temporary pre-eminence to many things which we know to possess intrinsic merit. Novelty is in itself the most transient of all qualities; it begins to decay from the first moment of its existence; being solely adapted to that instinctive curiosity, which may be considered as an appetite for know- ledge. Novel objects will, at first, excite a degree of wonder and admiration, from their being sup- posed to possess something strange, rare, or pecu- liar : but as these are relative qualities alone, and as this relation refers solely to our ignorance and inexperience, their effects are evanescent; for when the subject is no longer novel to us, it does not seem any longer to possess them. When novelty is no more, we shall either reject them with indif- ference or displeasure, or they may continue to at- tract our attention, by our perception of other and more permanent qualities. The love of novelty may, in some minds, be considered as a disease ; as a false appetite which craves more than it can digest, and seeks a variety of viands, from whence it derives but very little POWER OF FASHION. 235 nourishment. This passion, though it render us perpetually inquisitive, perpetually impels us to see objects through a false medium. At first, they are rendered peculiarly attractive, through the adven- titious colouring which the imagination has given them. They appear insipid when their novelty is gone, or become depreciated beyond their deserts, from the disappointment of our expectations con- cerning them. Fondness for novelty, when carried to an excess, renders a person whimsical in his choice, and unsteady in his pursuits. Momentary pleasures terminate in satiety and disappointment; which are insuperable impediments to that delib- erate investigation and habitual experience, which alone can enable us to judge of the real nature and intrinsic qualities, of the objects around us. But no cause whatever is so whimsically ver- satile and tyrannical, in exciting attachments and aversions, as the § 10. Power of Fashion. This power is an ideal influenza, spreading with the utmost rapidity, and infecting a whole community where it commenced; sometimes ex- tending to distant nations, and acquiring such strength, in its progress, that nothing can resist its force! It does not possess the degree of merit attendant upon the excessive love of novelty, which always imagines the object to possess some 236 CAUSES, &c. degree of worth ; a circumstance this, by no means essential to the influence of fashion ; whose au- thority is, in general, derived from things known to be idle and insignificant. Fashion gives abso- lute sway to modes, forms, colours, &c. wantonly introduced by the whim of an Individual, with whom the majority have not the most distant con- nection, and concerning whom they are totally ignorant; unless circumstances and situations of notoriety should render their characters either equivocal, or unequivocal. It is capable of instan- taneously altering our opinion of the nature and qualities of things, without demanding any painful exertions of the understanding, or requiring the slow process of investigation. With the quickness of a magic wand, it in a moment subverts all those ideas of beauty, elegance, and propriety, we had before cherished. It makes us reject, as odious, what we had lately contemplated as most desirable; and raptures are inspired by qualities, we had just considered as pernicious and deform- ed. Unwilling to renounce our title to rationality, unable to resist the power of fashion, we make every attempt to reconcile reason with absurdity. Thus, in numberless instances, do we attempt to vindicate to ourselves and to others, the novel affection. We are assiduous to find out some pe- culiar excellence or advantage, in whatever be- comes the idol of the day ; and to discover some insufferable defect in the divinity we have dis- carded. That which was once deemed grand POWER OF FASHION. 237 and majestic, in size or form, will now strike the eye as insupportably clumsy; and the regu- larity we once admired, now renders an object stiff, precise, and formal. Colours, which were yesterday so delicately elegant, will appear to-day faint, faded, and lifeless; and those which were lately much ,too strong and glaring for our weak optics, become in an instant, bright, glowing and majestic. Fashion will render that particular garb which we once thought so warm and comfortable, hot and insupportable as the sultry dog-days; and it makes the slightest covering, contrary to its pristine nature, remarkably pleasaut in the depth of winter. The flowing hair, or adjusted ringlets, shall at one period be considered as becoming and elegant; at another, be rejected as an insufferable mark of effeminacy, and reprobated as demanding a culpable waste of our most precious time ; while their close amputation is deemed both manly and commodious. Fashion has power to influence our ideas of graceful proportions ; it elongates or con- tracts the form of the leg in one sex, and of the waist in the other. It directs decency to excite a blush, at being detected without any other head- dress than that ordained by nature ; and it is also able to suppress the blush of female delicacy, at exposures which scarcely leave any room for the exercise of the most licentious imagination. Thus does fashion powerfully, expeditiously, and absurdly change both our Opinions and our Affections, according to the dictates of the most wanton caprice! 238 CAUSES, &c. §11. Love of Singularity. This is the direct opposite of the former; and though the love of singularity cannot, in its own nature, be so extensive as the power of fashion, yet it is very operative, where it does exist. It constitutes the motive and the pleasure of those, who are bold enough to deviate from the accustom- ed modes of thinking and acting, in order to attract the public attention. As the servile imitators of fashion are ashamed of being singular, these on the other hand, glory in singularity. They disdain to be placed in the line with common men, and think that they shall be respected as commanding officers, by starting out of the ranks. This dis- position always indicates itself in those who are the first introducers of fashions, which the multi- tude so eagerly follow. But it has its influence in more important cases. It has eventually a power- ful sway over the public at large; who seem ready to enlist themselves under some chief, without being choice about either the nature of the service, or of the recompense. Speculative philosophy, politics, and religion, are the three provinces in which the influence of this disposition is remark- ably conspicuous. It is often the source of new theories, which sometimes instruct, sometimes astonish, and sometimes infatuate the world. It is always discontented with whatever is, and is always LOVE OF SINGULARITY. 239 stimulated to seek something different. In politics, it is inimical to monarchy, aristocracy, or demo- cracy, according as either of them is the established form of government. In religion, it deviates from the popular creed, whatever that may be. The creed being popular, is deemed a sufficient indica- tion of its being erroneous. This disposition has a much closer affinity with very superficial thinking, than with free inquiry ; for it generally proposes crude opinions as the only counterpoise to public opinions, without paying any respect to the weight of evidence, on either side. The love of Singulari- ty has too often a pernicious effect in disputing societies, and sometimes in seminaries of learning; and it is highly prejudicial to that investigation of truth, which is the professed object of these insti- tutions. The disputant opposes sentiments gener- ally received, from the love of disputation, or from the desire of exercising and displaying his talents. He directs all his attention to the arguments which appear to be the most novel, specious, and embar- rassing. Thus he not only excites doubts in the minds of others, and triumphs in his success, but being habituated to search arguments of opposition, without attending impartially to the force of evi- dence, he is finally caught in the web of his own sophistry. He finally imagines that truth is on the side which he at first supported from vanity; and he rejects as errors, sentiments he secretly revered, when he wantonly began to combat them. Thus does he experience a total revolution in his 240 CAUSES, &c. manner of thinking and acting. He considers those .things as indifferent, absurd, and pernicious, which he has once thought of the highest impor- tance ; and this state of mind is necessarily pro- ductive of a change in his affections and disposi- tions towards them. § 12. Popular Prejudices. As whole communities sometimes entertain an uniformity in sentiment, with their correspondent predilections and aversions ; thus are they not un- frequently divided and subdivided into sects and parties, each of which is rigidly tenacious of a particular class of ideas, contracts very strong at- tachments to the espousers of the same cause, and thinks itself fully authorized to treat those of oppo- site sentiments, with contempt and hatred. Phi- losophy, religion, and politics manifest also, in a thousand instances, the influence of this principle. The two former are distinguished into a diversity of schools and sects, which cherish the flattering idea that they are the sole supporters of truth. Thus it is that a zealous attachment to particular sentiments, is seldom the result of an impartial ex- amination. It is often the consequence of an early education, and often it proceeds from an implicit confidence in the virtues, talents, and superior judgment of their chief, or some other incidental circumstance, which has cast the mind in the POPULAR PREJUDICES. 241 mould of particular opinions, and made an impres- sion upon it too deep ever to be obliterated. Nor does this principle cease to operate, in countries which deem themselves the most remote from servile attachments, or unfounded prejudices. The rancorous spirit which too frequently prevails in every contested election, will avouch the truth of our assertion. Candidates for some particular office, professedly of high importance to the inte- rests of the community, at once start forth from obscurity. They are immediately idolized by one party, as the mirrors of every excellence, and stig- matized by the other, as totally devoid of merit, and unworthy the name of man. Social inter- course is interrupted;—intimate friends become implacable enemies;—and during this wretched ferment, a total* suspension takes place of all the principles of honour and integrity; while every sluice of scandal and defamation is thrown open, without reserve and without remorse. Partiality and prejudice act and re-act like the waves of the troubled sea, until they are worked up into a tre- mendous storm. At these periods such phrensies have been known to disturb the brain, that the wanton shouts of a mob have been productive of outrage and murder, and the colour of a ribband has excited convulsions, as violent as those produc- ed by the sight of water in the canine madness ! To this principle also may we not ascribe a phe- nomenon, which appears otherwise inexplicable. Persons who in their individual characters are 31 242 CAUSES, &c. highly respectable, both for sound sense and integ- rity, will frequently in their political capacities, pursue a conduct the most inconsistent with either ; —uniformly act on the extravagant idea, that the existent Minister, whoever he may be, is uniformly right in his principles, perfectly disinterested in all his actions, and infallible in his plans : or, on the contrary, will regularly and incessantly oppose him, as a compound of depravity and ignorance ; whose every plan is big with mischief, and every exertion of power the application of the strength of a Samson, to overthrow the pillars of the con- stitution ! § 13. Associated Affections. • The influence of Association, in suggesting of thoughts, has frequently engaged the attention of philosophers ; and the power of trivial incidents to recall former ideas, is universally confessed. But their power is perhaps equally extensive over the affections. As one passion or affection pre-disposes the mind to the indulgence of that which most nearly resembles it, thus all the affections which have been indulged to a considerable degree, seem to change the complexion of every surrounding ob- ject. Places in which we have been happy, strike us, as if they had been both witnesses and partici- pants of our bliss ; while distress invariably diffu- ASSOCIATED AFFECTIONS. 243 ses a gloom over locality itself, and over every cir- cumstance that reminds us of what we have felt. Nor can we call to our recollection any place, in which we have enjoyed peculiar satisfaction, with- out feeling an affection for that spot; or recollect scenes of unhappiness, without feeling something like resentment against the theatre of our suffer- ings. The traveller, who has been happy in a foreign country, contracts a partiality for every thing belonging to it: if he has been ill received and ill treated, the gayest scenes and most advan- tageous circumstances belonging to that country, will, upon recollection, inspire him with displacen- cy, if not with horror. This principle is very extensive in its influence. It is this which renders the spot where the lover enjoys the company of his mistress, a paradise in his sight, however different its aspect may be to another. The slightest present, as a token of Af- fection, inspires exquisite delight: a trinket, or a lock of hair, are, to him, of more worth than a kingdom. It is this principle which enstamps an inestimable value upon the relicts of Saints and Martyrs ; and empowers fragments of their gar- ments, their very teeth and nails, to work miracles, in the opinion of the devotee. In its more moder- ate exertions, it inspires a strong attachment to every thing which was once our friend's. It is this principle of association, which so easily implants in the religious and devout mind, a veneration for the place destined to the offices of religion ; and inscribes Holiness upon the edifice devoted to sacred purposes. 244 CAUSES, &c. The same principle renders innumerable circum- tances, in common life, of considerable importance; and in conjunction with habit, enables us to derive comfort from peculiarities of state and situation, which do not possess any intrinsic advantage. Every thing around us becomes, as it were, conge- nial to our natures ; and the pleasures of yesterday are revived in the objects of to-day. This associating principle extends its influence to the article of dress, and inspires a degree of respec- tability, or the contrary, according to the shape of a coat, or the cock of a hat. In the days of our ancestors it was reduced to a regular system, and occasioned that classification in dress, which dis- tinguished individuals in the three professions, and in our courts of justice, from the vulgar herd. In those days the venerable wig, the robe, and the band, invariably excited the ideas of superior skill, gravity, piety, and equity. These were venerated as emblems, until they were so frequently employ- as substitutes, that the charm was finally dispel- led. But although this kind of association has not, in the present day, so extensive an effect as at former periods, yet it is not entirely destroyed. It is felt in our navies and armies, where the raw recruit is despised, and often very roughly treated by his more veteran associates, until they have lost sight of his ignorance and inexperience, in the uniformi- ty of garb. It is felt by every actor, who cannot fully enter into the spirit of his part, until he has ASSOCIATED AFFECTIONS. 245 assumed the character, in his external appearance. It is invariably felt by those distinguished for their attachment to ornaments ; who so frequently mis- take the elegance of their dress, and the value of their jewels, for their own personal accomplish- ments. It is, at times, felt by every one in a grea- ter or less degree ; for his mind experiences some- thing of a conformity with the state of his dress ; and the remark of Sterne, that a propensity to meanness is increased by the want of clean linen, possesses a portion of philosophy as well as of hu- mour. This principle of association exerts an illicit in- fluence in more important matters. It inspires a disposition to substitute one thing for another, be- cause of some points of similarity ; however they may differ in more essential articles. Thus it fre- quently substitutes the means for the end. In re- ligion., it confounds the observance of rites and ceremonies with the spirit of true devotion ; and a punctual attendance upon the means of improve- ment, is deemed equivalent to progress in improv- ment. In morals, it sometimes respects a vice that is contiguous to a virtue ; and it degrades a virtue, that is contiguous to a vice. Thus because a gen- erous man is liberal in his donations, the Prodigal, who squanders in thoughtless profusion his own property and that of others, boasts of his liberality. Because economy is a virtue, avarice assumes the title. The rash and impetuous give the character 246 CAUSES, &c. of cowardice to caution; and the coward confounds genuine courage with unpardonable rashness. In like manner are degrees of atrocity calculated, not by the innate baseness of an act, or by the quantity of misery it diffuses, but according to the nature of the punishment inflicted by human laws; or to the quantity of reputation that is in danger by the commission. Thus some have imagined that they respect virtue, because they abhor igno- miny. They cautiously select, and adhere to the vices which are least injurious to to reputation ; and they will pay peculiar attention to mere appel- lations, and modes of expression, which are design- edly adopted to conceal the enormities of guilt. The man, who, in his social habits, apparently scorns to be unjust, will not scruple to ruin his best friends by rash and adventurous projects; and he simply call the issue, an unfortunate speculation. The ruin of female honour, to the destruction of the peace and happiness of respectable relatives, being termed an act of gallantry, is scarcely deemed in- consistent with the character of a man of honour. These few specimens shew the nature and ex- tent of the associating principle. They indicate that it sometimes operates as a remembrancer, sometimes as an emblem or representative, and sometimes as a substitute;—that it may be the handmaid of innocent and virtuous affections ; the source of bigotry and superstition, and an apology for the deepest depravity. THE MANNER, &c. 247 When our ideas of the qualities of objects, and our dispositions towards them, are not under the influence of these adventitious circumstances, when they are the most correspondent with their real natures, yet the impressions, they make upon our feelings are extremely different, at different sea- sons. Sometimes we perceive that they exist, but we contemplate them without either emotion or affection ; at other times they acquire such an irre- sistible influence, that they will not suffer a com- petitor. We have already observed that the Nov- elty of an object, and the sudden manner in which it is presented to our notice, have a very powerful influence over our affections; but there are many other adventitious circumstances, which from their striking effects upon the mind, deserve to be enumerated. For example : § 14. The Manner in which Information is conveyed to us. It is natural to expect that a full conviction of the truth of interesting particulars, would, at all times, be attended with an impression proportion- ate to their importance. But this is not the case : much depends upon the manner in which such in- teresting subjects are presented to the mind. The information obtained by reading a plain and sim- ple statement of events, for example, is the weak- est in its influence. A narrative of the same 248 CAUSES, &c. events, from an eye-witness, whose credit may not be superior to that of the historian, brings us, as it were, nearer to the object, and makes a much deeper impression. Both of these are feeble com- pared with the influence of sight. It is through the organs of sight alone, that the most vivid and most permanent effects are produced. Every minute circumstance is now placed before us, and each exerts its own impressive influence at the same instant. The information thus becomes complete and indubitable, without any mixture of obscurity in the mode of representation, or remains of incredulity on our parts;—which, perhaps, weakens the evidence of what is considered to be authentic history, more than is generally suspected. We are our own evidence, and we must give credit to ourselves. Hence we speak of ocular demonstration, and agree that seeing is believing. It is a singular fact, that in reading the most terrible events with which the pages of history are filled, we not only bear to read, but take delight in the perusal of those incidents which would be too affecting, were they immediately described to us by an eye-witness; and which would excite in- sufferable anguish were we ourselves spectators of the scenes. The cool narration of those vices, follies, intrigues, cruelties, oppressions, of which the history of states and kingdoms is chiefly com- posed, is just sufficient to awaken within us a de- gree of horror, indignation, and sympathy, which is not inconsistent with the pleasure we take in the THE MANNER, &c. 249 gratification of curiosity. We feel also self-appro- bation, which is far from being unpleasant, in the perception that we are always interested in the cause of the innocent, the weak, and the oppres- sed ; that we can detest vice, and rejoice in the triumphs of virtue. Nor does the professed Historian descend to those minutiae, which, in scenes of this kind, have the strongest hold upon the mind. His narrative consists in a general representation of facts. He tells us of thousands and tens of thousands who were destroyed, or led into captivity, or reduced to extreme distress by pestilence and famine, without expatiating upon minuter circumstances, which are absolutely necessary to compose an interesting pic- ture. Thus are we much more affected with the parting of Hector from Andromache, than with the conflagration of Troy ; and we sympathize more deeply with the fate of this hero, when his lifeless body was dragged at the chariot-wheels of his proud conqueror, although it was insensible to pain, than with all the real distresses of the Tro- jan war. We suffer more from the simple story of La Fevre, than from the reports of an hospital; and the countryman's pathetic lamentations over his dead ass, have called forth tears of commisera- tion, which much more extensive distress will not always produce. We shall now advert to other causes, which have also a powerful influence in exciting or direct- 32 250 CAUSES, &c. ing our affections; and have some relation both with the sympathy of our natures, and with the association of ideas and affections already noticed ; these are § 15. Imitative Tones and Representations. We are so constituted as to be strongly affected by the representation of particular states and situa- tions, notwithstanding we may be convinced that they are imaginary or artificial. Mere tones, at- titudes, gestures, imitating or resembling any of those produced by one or other of the passions and affections, are calculated to excite correspondent feelings and emotions, in susceptible minds. Like musical instruments attuned to the same key, 'our feelings are made to vibrate with the vibrations of surrounding objects. Even the Voice and Accents of inferior animals, expressive either of fear, or pain, or lamentation, or joy, or affection, have a tendency to render us apprehensive, cheerful, me- lancholy, or sympathizing. Rude and harsh sounds not only create unpleasant sensations, but sug- gest unpleasant and foreboding ideas, in all those who have not corrected their sensations by their reason. It is from this kind of association pro- bably, that the croaking of the raven, and the scream of a night owl, are so universally deemed ominous of mischief by the ignorant. The spright- ly music of the feathered songsters inspires an ex- hilarating vivacity. The solitary and melodious IMITATIVE TONES, &c. 251 notes of the nightingale, the cooing of the turtle dove, &c. have always furnished imagery for Poets, in their descriptions of the tender passion of love, or sympathetic sorrow. The bleating of the sheep, and lowing of the kine, &c. although they possess no real melody in themselves, yet as they denote the affection of the dam for its offspring, they universally inspire a pleasing sympathetic ten- derness. The principal charms of the Music, which aims at a higher character than that of difficult or rapid execution, consist in the imitation of those tones and movements which are most intimately connected with the passions and affections of the soul; which exhilarate the spirits, and excite to the sprightly or graceful dance; arouse and animate to martial deeds ; induce a bewitching melancholy ; or diffuse a pleasing serenity over the mind ;—which charm by displaying something like the power of persua- sive eloquence without words,—by holding a kind of conversation without ideas,—and by exciting whatever disposition the artist pleases, without sug- gesting a motive. It has been occasionally remarked, in our Analy- sis, that the powerful influence of any exciting cause, manifests itself by Emotions correspondent to the nature of the passions; to seize these exter- nal appearances, or to imitate the expressive looks, attitudes, and gestures peculiar to each, is the pro- fessed object of the statuary and historic painter ; 252 CAUSES, &c. and to do justice to these characteristic emotions, constitutes the difficulty and excellence of their art. It is the professed design of the Artist to excite some emotion, or call forth some particular affec- tion, correspondent to the nature of his object. Although the power of the sculptor is confined to forms and attitudes principally, yet how interesting may these be rendered to the spectator! Who can contemplate the Apollo Belvedere, the Venus de Medicis, without admiring the human shape in its characteristic beauties ? or the dancing Fawns, without partaking of their vivacity ? Or the Far- nese Hercules, without a degree of awe ? or the Laocoon and his sons, without a mixture of com- passion and horror? Or any of these, without being astonished at the skill, ingenuity, or sublimi- ty of the artist ? The enthusiastic encomiums be- stowed upon the paintings of celebrated masters; the eagerness with which their labours are purchas- ed ; the wealth and renown which the most dis- tinguished of them enjoy; and the respect paid to their memories, demonstrate the amazing effect of their performances upon the mind ;—the strength of our sympathy with every representation of pas- sion ;—and the surprise we experience, that these powerful effects are produced by the mere distri- bution of colours, or of lights and shades upon board or canvas 1 RHETORIC, ORATORY, &c. 253 § 16. Rhetoric, Oratory, Eloquence. If mere tones and representations so warmly in- terest the affections, though they are not able to convey information, or suggest any ideas to the mind, perfectly novel ; much deeper impressions are to be expected from means, whose professed object it is, to increase our knowledge of particular subjects, to extend our views, enlarge our concep- tions, to employ all the force of language, and all the power of sympathy, in order to give them weight and energy ; which is the province of Rhe- toric and Oratory. Rhetoric is generally considered as the art of persuasion. It attempts to inspire conviction con- cerning some particular object, that it may influ- ence the will to determine in a manner correspon- dent. It seeks either to arouse the mind to action, or to dissuade it from acting upon the resolutions already taken, or which are in contemplation. Its immediate employment is not to search after truth, but to render acknowledged or supposed truths in- fluential. It leaves to Logic the province of cool investigation, and of drawing legitimate conclusions from admitted premises, without any regard to motives. The Rhetorician is solicitous to efjfeet some particular purpose, and calls in the aid of rea- son merely as an auxiliary. He attempts to influ- ence the Will by reasoning with the affections ; 254 CAUSES, &c. knowing that if they be gained over to the party espoused, the will is ready to follow. He there- fore artfully conceals, or slightly passes over every circumstance which is not favourable to his views, and he brings forward, and largely expatiates upon those which are. He suggests motives of pleasure, utility, safety, honour, pity, &c. as the subject ad- mits. He not only pre-supposes the object in view to be of the first importance, but he employs every method to implant this conviction, in the minds of those whom he endeavours to persuade. These attempts become most successful, by a close imitation of that train of ideas, and those modes of expression, which any particular passion or affection is prone to suggest. If the design be to excite anger and resentment, rhetoric imitates the language of anger. It places the supposed of- fence in the strongest point of view, and describes it in the most vivid colours. It assiduously collects and expatiates upon every circumstance, which contributes to the aggravation of the crime. It is indignant against that spiritless tranquillity which can patiently endure such insults, and attributes reluctance to revenge, to some mean and cowardly motive. If its object be to excite terror, it assem- bles together every circumstance which has a ten- dency to alarm with a sense of Danger. It stig- matizes courage with the epithet of rashness, and flight is dignified with the title of prudence, &c. If compassion be the object, it expatiates upon the wretched state of the sufferer; his fears, his appre- RHETORIC, ORATORY, &c. 255 hensions, his penitence. It palliates his faults, extols his good qualities ; and thus collects in one point of view all his claims to commiseration. The species of argument, which persons under the influence of passions and strong affections per- petually adopt, is rendered more efficacious by ap- propriate language. The rhetorician therefore studies and imitates the particular language of each passion, either in its energy, vivacity, or diffuse- ness. Hence he liberally employs all those tropes and figures of speech, which nature suggests, and art has classified. Oratory adds to rhetorical compositions the ad- vantages of elocution. It adapts the manner of de- livery to the nature of the subject, and the appro- priate language. It takes the characteristic signs of each emotion for its model, as far as it dares to imitate without the imputation of mimickry. It enters into the attitudes, gestures, tones of voice, accents, emphasis, expressions of countenance, in- spired by the particular emotion, in such a manner, that not an idea is suffered to lose its proper effect, by any deficiency, in kind or degree of energy communicated to it; and thus it enjoys every ad- vantage to be derived from the power of sympathy. Eloquence, according to the modern ideas of it, appears to be the medium between the impetuosity which oratory admits, and which was highly cha- racteristic of ancient oratory, and the studied arti- fice of the professed rhetorician. The term is sometimes applied to composition, sometimes to de- 256 CAUSES, &c. livery. When applied to both, it comprehends a cer- tain degree of elegance, both of diction and of man- ner. The want of that energy which approaches to violence, is compensated by pertinency of language, fluency of utterance, and guarded chastity of address. Its excellency consists in a pleasing adaptation of language to the subject, and of manner to both. It refuses too close an imitation of the turbid emo- tions, but it delights in animated description. It seems rather partial to the pathetic: the elegance and graces which it loves, harmonizing most easily and successfully, with the softest and finest feelings of our nature. The power of oratorial Eloquence is almost irre- sistible. It penetrates into the inmost recesses of the soul. It is able to excite or to calm, the pas- sions of men at will; to drive the multitude for- wards to acts of madness, or to say to the contend- ing passions, " Peace, be still." It changes the whole current of our ideas, concerning the nature and importance of objects, and of our obligations and advantages respecting them. It rouses from pernicious indolence ; and it renders the sentiments and dispositions already formed, most influential. In a word, it has made of the human species both angels and monsters. It has animated to the most noble and generous exertions, and it has impelled to deeds of horror ! THE DRAMA. 257 § 17. The Drama. The successful dramatic Writer catches the ideas, and imitates the language of every passion, emotion, and affection, in their different stages and degrees. His professed object is to suppose a diversity of characters, and to support them with a correspondent train of ideas; to inspire them with predilections and aversions; or call forth particular passions and affections, according to the situations in which he has placed them. His hopes of success depend on the closeness of the imitation; and success itself consists in being able to interest the heart, by exciting affections and emotions similar to those which would be felt by the reader or spectator, were he an immediate witness to similar scenes, in real life. The complete Actor possesses the happy talent of expressing, by manner, the state of mind repre- sented by his author. He adopts what modern orators reject. He attempts to give force to per- tinent ideas and language, by imitative tones, ges- tures, and countenance. These he varies, accord- ing to the versatile state of those who are tossed upon the billows of passion, agitated by some contending emotions, or under the more permanent influence of particular affections. In theatrical exhibitions there is a conspiracy to delude the imagination ; and all the powers 33 258 CAUSES, &c. of sympathy are called forth to produce the effect. By appropriate dresses, the persons of the actors are lost in the characters they assume; and cor- respondent scenery points out the very spot of action. The spectator leaves every idea of real life at the door of entrance, and voluntarily yields himself up to the pleasing delusion. He finds himself in a new world. He is transported, in an instant, into distant regions and remote ages, and feels in fiction all the force of truth. He laughs at mimic folly, sincerely weeps at arti- ficial misery, is inspired with horror and indigna- tion at imaginary baseness, and is in an ecstacy of joy at counterfeit happiness! § 18. Pre-disposing Causes. All the above causes, which operate so power- fully upon the mind, and impress it with such a diversity or contrariety of sensations, have still a degree of uniformity in their mode of action. We may still suppose that the same individual, placed under their immediate influence, would always entertain similar ideas, and receive similar impressions. But this is not always the case. Certain circumstances create such a pre-disposition within us, that we shall, at different seasons, be very differently affected by the same object, both respecting the kind of passion or affection excited, and the degree of power it may exercise over us: PRE-DISPOSING CAUSES. 259 and they constitute that state of mind, which we frequently describe by being in the humour, or not in the humour. The circumstances to which we now refer, exert their primary effect upon the cor- poreal or nervous system, render that more sus- ceptible of impressions, at one time than another; dispose it to be very differently affected by the same objects; and through its channel, to affect the state of our minds concerning them. These observations relate to the power of what the medical world has termed the non-naturals, which exert as great an influence over the dis- positions of the mind, as they are productive of salutary or morbid pre-dispositions respecting the body. All those circumstances, for example, which are calculated to invigorate the frame, and rouse it from a state of indolence and inactivity, necessarily communicate a correspondent vigour to the Mind, by which it becomes more adapted to receive inpressions of a certain class, and to be more powerfully influenced by particular cir- cumstances and qualities in objects, than at the preceding period. Such are the manifest effects of refreshing sleep to fatigued and exhausted na- tures,—of invigorating viands,—of cheerful wea- ther, &c. Whatever produces an uneasy sensation in the corporeal system, is apt to render the Mind peevish and fretful, and dispose it to be more powerfully affected than usual, by incidents of a disagreeable nature; such as losses, disappoint- ments, the improper conduct of others, &c. It 260 CAUSES, &c. has been frequently noticed by practitioners, that patients are much more fretful and impatient in a state of convalescence, than they were during the severer periods of their disease. Their returning powers of sensation, make them feel the state of the disordered frame, more mi- nutely than during the oppressive state of the disease ; and their comfortless sensation com- municates an unusual fretfulness to the temper. Again, those things which heat and irritate to a considerable degree, foster all turbulent and irritable passions ; while those which diffuse a pleasing sensation over the system, dispose to benevolence and good-will. It is a maxim with some, in modern days, never to ask a favour of an epicure, till after his meals; and the Ancients were not unacquainted with the mollia tempora fandi. Whatever chills and debilitates, disposes to timidity ; and local situations which are retired and gloomy, are most conducive to melancholy impressions. Indeed, so dependent is the state of the Mind upon that of the body, that nothing can produce a considerable change in the latter, without exciting pre-dispositions, somewhat an- alogous, in the former. The food which recruits the exhausted powers of animal nature, exhilarates and invigorates the Mind: the excess which burdens the body, benumbs the powers of the soul. The painful and comfortless sensations produced by flatulencies and indigestions, in hypo- condriac temperaments, have sometimes produced, PRE-DISPOSING CAUSES. 261 and sometimes been mistaken for an anxious state of Mind; and the medicines which relieve the one will administer comfort to the other. The sensations of hunger, cold, fatigue, &c. being disagreeable in themselves, induce a painful rest- lessness in the disposition, and great petulance of temper. The state of the atmosphere, peculiari- ties of climate, seasons of the year, have their mental influence. They dispose to a cheerful vivacity or gloominess of disposition; induce a languor, or invigorate the mental powers. The influence of Narcotics upon the mind is universally noticed. The exhilarating effects of opiates, the extravagant wildness, the pleasing delirium with which they affect the brain, the Elysian pleasures they sometimes communicate to the imagination, and the consequent torpor and debility diffused over the whole system, have been frequently noticed. Under their stimulating influence, man has shewn himself equal to undertakings which it was apparent madness to attempt; and the sub- sequent depression has marked him for a coward. The effects of spirituous and fermented liquors are no less obvious, as every one has too frequent oc- casions to remark. These effects are observed to vary according to the quality of the liquor, the previous state of the subject's mind, or the tem- perament of his body. Some kinds of potations have a tendency to induce a pleasing stupefaction ; so that if they do not inspire new ideas, they seem to render the Sot perfectly contented with the few 262 CAUSES, &c. he possesses. These are the frequent effects of malt liquors, and the ingredients mixed with them. While other liquors, as the sparkling Champaign, exhilarate the spirits to an unusual degree, and promote a flow of lively and witty ideas. Tempers naturally warm and impetuous are, generally, very litigious and quarrelsome in their cups. Others are rendered quarrelsome in a state of intoxication, contrary to their usual dispositions, through the dis- agreeable irritation diffused over the system, by the unusual stimulus. Some persons, on the other hand, who are surrounded with distracting cares, or oppressed with extreme poverty, having, for the instant, drowned thought and reflection in the bewitching draught, which operates like the waters of Lethe, obtain a temporary release from their mental sufferings, and enjoy an extraordinary and frantic flow of spirits, in the oblivion of their misery. Instances similar to the above are infinitely nu- merous ; but these are sufficient to illustrate the fact, that many circumstances, by primarily affect- ing the body, produce a correspondent change upon the Mind ; strengthen many of its affections, and pre-dispose to passions and emotions, by which it would not otherwise have been affected. It may be remarked, in general, that the sensibility of the system, or susceptibility of impression, when greatly increased by intoxication or any other cause, will render the same individual, amorous, or generous, or courageous, or passionate and PRE-DISPOSING CAUSES. 263 quarrelsome, according as occasions and incidents, favourable to one or other of these affections and emotions, may present themselves. Thus have we enumerated the principal causes, exerting a powerful influence over the affections ; which occasion that great diversity observable in the human species, endowed with similar capaci- ties, and apparently placed in similar situations : causes, by the influence of which, one class of rational beings differs so essentially from another equally rational; Individuals from Individuals in each class, and Individuals so frequently from themselves. Our remarks have been extended far beyond the limits proposed: but we have been imper- ceptibly carried forwards both by the singularity and importance of the subject; which would require volumes to do it justice, and which vol- umes could scarcely exhaust. 264 MEDICAL INFLUENCE CHAPTER 111. PARTICULAR EFFECTS RESULTING FROM THE OPEUATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS, CONSIDERED. In every part of our Analytical Inquiries, the powerful influence of the passions and stronger af- fections, upon the whole system, has been mani- fested. The sudden changes made in the state of the mind, respecting particular objects, and the effects as instantaneously communicated to the cor- poreal frame, according to the nature and force of the impression, have been repeatedly considered. We have also remarked, that as the exciting causes are of very different and opposite natures, they pos- sess various degrees of merit and demerit; and that some of them being of a pleasant, others of an un- pleasant influence, they excite correspondent sen- sations within us, as long as we remain under this immediate influence. Such peculiarities are pro- ductive of certain effects and characteristic states, different from the primary object of the passion, although they are so intimately connected with it. These effects may be placed under the following heads: The physical, or medical influence of the passions ; their metaphysical, or influence upon the train of our ideas, correspondent language, &c.; their moral, or influence upon character and happi- ness. These remain to be briefly considered. OF THE PASSIONS. 265 SECTION I. MEDICAL INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS. If we advert to the strong impression made by every violent emotion upon the corporeal system, we shall not be surprised that the sudden and powerful changes produced should, under certain circumstances, exert a medical influence, in com- mon with many other causes which act powerfully upon the body. Accordingly, have the Passions and Affections of the Mind, uniformly had a place given them among the non-naturals, as they are termed, or those incidental causes, which may oc- casionally induce either a salutary or morbid effect upon the body ; such as air, exercise, rest, watch- ings, medicaments, food, heat, cold, &c. To enter minutely into this subject, to enume- rate the various facts, upon which our observations and assertions are founded, to advance and defend any particular theory, would be totally foreign from the nature and design of this treatise, and be- come tedious to the class of Readers, for whom it is principally designed. Yet some observations upon the influence of the passions in the medical department, necessarily belong to a general history of the passions. It is not agreed in what manner salutary or per- nicious effects are produced, by the instrumentality of the passions. Without adopting any particular 34 266 MEDICAL INFLUENCE hypothesis, it will be sufficient for our purpose to remark, that the Physicians of the present day generally ascribe the primary changes to their in- fluence upon the nervous power, or grand princi- ple of vitality ; by which animated bodies are ren- dered susceptible of an infinite variety of impres- sions. In consequence of this influence, either the system in general, or some particular organ, is made to deviate from the exercise of those func- tions on which health depends ; or is restored to its pristine office, after such deviations have taken place. Not to inquire deeply into the laws of physiolo- gy and pathology, I shall only add, that such bodies, or such circumstances, as are able to effect any important changes, produce these effects,— either by temperating every inordinate and irregu- lar action,—by infusing a salutary vigour, in oppo- sition to languor and inactivity,—by exbiting to some excess, through the power of their stimulus, —by inducing a temporary torpor,—or by perma- nently debilitating the frame. These are proper- ties which perfectly correspond with effects pro- duced by the different Passions and Affections of the mind: some of which manifestly elevate and invigorate the system,—others greatly depress,— some of them violently irritate,—others induce a torpid languor,—and others an incurable atonia. A few instances will illustrate these remarks. But as deviation and restoration refer to some standard, we must first suggest that the lively, yet OF THE PASSIONS. 267 temperate action of the vital influence, through every part of the system, constitutes the perfection of health. The Mind, undisturbed by any violent emotions, agitations, or depressions of a corporeal nature, is able to exercise its noblest powers with a tranquil vigour. The Body continues in the regular discharge of its proper functions, without the least sensation of difficulty and embarrassment. Respiration is free and easy, neither requiring con- scious exertion, nor even a thought. The action of the heart and arteries, with the consequent cir- culation of the blood, are regular and placid, neith- er too rapid nor too indolent, neither laboured nor oppressed.,. Perspiration is neither checked nor ex- cessive. Aliments are sought with appetite, enjoy- ed with a relish, and digested with facility. Every secretion and excretion is duly performed. The body is perfectly free from pain, oppression, hebe- tude, and every species of uneasiness; and a cer- tain vivacity and vigour, not to be described, reign through the system. Hope. The effects of that cordial, Hope, are peculiarly favourable to this envied state. In its more tem- perate exercise, it communicates a mild, but delec- table sensation to the heart. It elevates and in- vigorates both mind and body. Its grateful stimu- lus produces a pleasing and salutary flow of the 268 MEDICAL INFLUENCE animal spirits, and diffuses a temperate vivacity over the system, directing a due degree of energy to every part. In short, it is the only passion or affection, which unites moderation with vigour, checks every violent impetus, and removes every species of morbid languor. By comparing the effects peculiar to the passion of Hope, with the above description of perfect health, the closest analogy will immediately become obvious. Its characteristic is to produce a salutary medium, between every excess and defect of opera- tion, in every function. Consequently, it has a tendency to calm the troubled action of the vessels, to check and sooth the violent and irregular im- petus of the nervous system, and to administer a beneficial stimulus to the oppressed and debilitated powers of nature. Hence it has been the constant practice of Physicians, to support the hopes of their patients in the most alarming diseases, of almost every description. But it is peculiarly beneficial in those disorders which proceed from fear, sorrow, and every species of anxiety, or which occasion a great prostration of strength, and dejection of spirits. In intermittent and pestilential fevers, and in vari- ous chronic complaints, the most efficacious reme- dies have proved inert, if administered to persons destitute of Hope; while an unmeaning farrago, which could scarcely be deemed innocent, taken with a confidence of success, have exceeded, in their efficacy, the utmost efforts of the most skilful practitioner. OF THE PASSIONS. 269 Hope therefore demands a place among the me- dicaments that are the mildest and most grateful in their operation, and exhilarating in their effects. Joy. The medicinal influence of Joy is very similar to that of hope. But in its general effect, it is a more powerful stimulant. Joy diffuses a much greater vivacity over the whole system. It quickens the circulation of the blood, and, in its first impulse, it frequently excites violent palpitations of the heart. It renders the eyes peculiarly lively and animated, and sometimes, when the mind has been previously in a state of anxious fear, it stimulates the lachry- mal gland to the secretion of tears, accompanied with redness, and a sensation of warmth in the countenance. Both Mind and Body become so alert, that they cannot refrain from some lively manifestation of their feelings, either by loud accla- mations, or extravagant gestures. All that has been said of hope is applicable to this passion, under its more moderate influence. But as it is in general a much more powerful stimu- lus, in many cases it is still more efficacious. In all those diseases, where the powers of nature are particularly oppressed and impeded, it is a potent remedy. In leucho-phlegmatic habits, where lan- guid circulation, hebetude, chilness, &c. are preva- lent, the grateful cordial of Joy, acts like a charm. 270 MEDICAL INFLUENCE Pervading the whole system, it instantaneously produces universal vigour, imparts vivacity to the most indolent, and paints-the most pallid cheek with the glow of health. We are also assured that by its penetrating, exciting, and exhilarating power, it has cured Paralytics ; and it has restored to their senses those who had been rendered insane through the excess of melancholy. But, as every thing possessing great energy may, in some circumstances, prove injurious, either by its own excess, or by co-operating with other causes, thus have the transports of Joy, though in their nature so salutary, sometimes induced diseases, and sometimes rendered them more severe. They have increased the paroxysms of acute fevers, ag- gravated inflammatory symptoms ; and in plethoric habits, have been productive of apoplexies. Im- moderate and ungovernable transports of Joy, have sometimes induced epilepsies, catalepsies, paralysis, and that class of maladies which arise from too great agitation of mind, in delicate and susceptible frames. There are many instances upon record, of sud- den death having been occasioned by the hasty communication of very joyful tidings. Like a stroke of electricity, indiscreetly directed, the vio- lent percussion has probably produced a paralysis of the heart, by the excess of its stimulus. These incidents are most likely to take place in subjects who were, at the instant, deeply oppressed with the opposite passions of fear and anxiety ; by which OF THE PASSIONS. 271 the natural and salutary action of the heart and arteries was greatly impeded. This, of conse- quence, will create a resistance to the impulse, and render it more liable to destroy the tone of that sensible organ. In most of the instances recorded, the persons who have fallen a sacrifice to the ex- cess of Joy were in this particular situation ; nor was there an opportunity given to soften the agony of fear, by a cautious manner of communicating the tidings. (See Note T.) Cheerfulness, hilarity, and social mirth, are in their effects so similar to hope and moderate joy, that their medical powers may be collected from what has been observed concerning these. Ope- rating also by the laws of social sympathy, they promote a delectable flow of spirits, which affords a temporary relief from the oppressive and perni- cious influence of cares and solicitudes, refreshes and exhilarates, after the fatigues of labour, either corporeal or mental; and thus, by renovating the Man, inspires him with fresh vigour, to discharge the arduous duties which his station in life may require. Love. Love has been considered, in the former part of this Treatise, both as an Affection and a Passion. As an Affection, in which complacency and good- will are the principal ingredients, it places the 272 MEDICAL INFLUENCE corporeal frame in a state of pleasing tranquillity ; in the salutary medium between languor and inert- ness on the one side, or of violent incitement on the other. Its influence, therefore, is too mild to be at any time prejudicial; and it is calculated to moderate the effects each extreme is capable of producing. General benevolence has also a simi- lar tendency. It escapes the rude effects of all the irritating passions, and diffuses a salutary placid- ness over the whole system. Love between the sexes, commencing with pre- dilection, and stealing into warm personal attach- ment, when reciprocal, and unalloyed by adventi- tious causes, inspires the mind with delight, con- nected with a satisfaction unknown to other de- lights. It is the reward of persevering hope, and corresponds with that pleasing passion, in its be- neficent effects on the corporeal system. It is so inimical to the rougher passions and emotions, that they cannot possibly subsist together. The blan- dishments of Love have tamed the most ferocious natures, and calmed the most turbulent spirits. The Passion rising to desire, acts as a powerful stimulant; gives fresh energy to the system, diffus- ing a general warmth, and increasing the sensibili- ty of the frame. As sexual attachment is one of the strongest propensities of animal nature, and as it is peculiar- ly exposed, in civil society, to numberless contra- rieties, it frequently becomes the source of many other affections and emotions) such as hope, fear, joy, sorrow, anger, envy, jealousy, &c. OF THE PASSIONS. 273 Such various effects of Love, according to their complexities and degrees, must, it is self-apparent, vary their pathological and therapeutic influence on the animal ceconomy; and medical Writers have accordingly given us numerous instances both of its salutary and pernicious powers. Its brisk incitements, in cold and torpid temperaments, have removed the various indispositions, to which such temperaments are exposed. It has fortified the body against dangers, difficulties, and hardships, which appeared superior to human force. It is said to have cured intermittents; acting, probably, like invigorating cordials, administered before the access of the cold fit, by which its return is pre- vented, and the habit destroyed, to the influence of which this disease is particularly exposed. In its violent and impetuous energies, it has excited in- flammatory fevers, and a larger train of evils pro- ceeding from the excess of stimulus, than it will be necessary to enumerate. It has, also, in conse- quence of that contrariety of passions to which it is subject, occasioned the most dangerous and ob- stinate maladies ; hysterics, epilepsies, hectic fevers, the rage of madness, or the still more pitiable state of confirmed and wasting melancholy. Anger. The symptoms indicating a violent paroxysm of Anger, as strongly indicate the excessive perturba- 35 274 MEDICAL INFLUENCE tion it occasions throughout the system. The red- ness of countenance, the fire flashing in the eyes, the strong and agitated pulse, the wonderful in- crease of muscular strength, for the instant, mani- fest that all the powers of nature are roused to the most violent exertions. Anger acts as a stimulus of the most potent kind, upon the muscular, vascular, and nervous systems. It is not surpris- ing, therefore, that its pathological effects should be numerous and alarming. Inflammatory and bilious fevers, haemorrhages, apoplexies, inflamma- tion of the brain, mania, have arisen from the in- creased impetuosity it has given to the vascular sys- tem ; as also sudden death, either from ruptured vessels, or the excess of its stimulating power, upon the vital organs; particularly in plethoric and sanguineous temperaments. Palsies, epilep- sies, aphonia, or loss of voice, diarrhoeas, involu- tion of the intestines, and those diseases which may be attributed to the excessive perturbation of the nervous system, and also to exhausted strength, have too frequently succeeded to its tremendous exertions. In short, as there is no passion so turbulent, so is there none so immediately danger- ous as excessive anger. Yet even this passion has been occasionally beneficial. As there are cases in which arsenic itself exerts a medicinal virtue, thus are we assured, by writers of veracity, that there are instances in which the passion of Anger, by giving unusual energy to the system, has conquered such diseases OF THE PASSIONS. 275 as demanded a potent stimulus. We are told that it has cured agues, restored speech to the dumb, and for several days arrested the cold hand of death ; that its stimulating power has, like the electric shock, proved a remedy in rheumatic affec- tions, palsies, and various chronic complaints. Fortitude. The medical virtues of Fortitude are universally admitted. The determined resolution of the Mind, communicates a correspondent energy to the body. Cheery hope is, in these cases, a powerful auxili- ary. Fortitude is not only a preservative against the pathological effects of fear and grief, but it renders the body less subject to the morbid in- fluence of putrid and contagious diseases. It enables the warrior to support hardships and fa- tigues, which would otherwise prove fatal to him. In the hour of conflict, the hopes of conquest, the power of social sympathy, a spirit of emulation, and enkindled anger against the foe, impel to achievements, to which the powers of nature would be unequal, at any other period. Those who have had the best opportunity of observing, assure us that an army is most exposed to diseases when it is in a state of total inactivity. 276 MEDICAL INFLUENCE Sorrow. Whoever attends to the pathological effects of Sorrow, and marks its different stages;—the stu- pefaction and horror with which the sufferer is sometimes seized, upon the sudden communica- tion of evil tidings;—the agitations which imme- diately succeed, introducing subsequent languor and debility ;—and the deep melancholy into which the mind subsides, after the first conflicts are passed, will be prepared to credit the narra- tions, that excessive sorrow has been the cause of sudden deaths, of confirmed melancholy, loss of memory, imbecility of mind, of nervous fevers, of hypochondriac complaints ;—that it renders the body peculiarly susceptible of contagious disorders; and that the loss of appetite, perpetual watchful- ness, confirmed apathy to every thing social and exhilarating, the attention immutably fixed upon the cause of its distress, &c. have rapidly intro- duced the most terrible diseases, and hastened the dissolution of the sufferer. Nor does any case present itself, in which the passion of Sorrow, or the affection of grief, have produced salutary effects, unless by their being calculated to moderate the transports of anger; and thus they may have prevented or removed the pathological symptoms of which such trans- ports are productive. OF THE PASSIONS 277 Fear. The changes instantly induced upon the body by abject Fear; the universal rigour, the con- tracted and pallid countenance, the deep sunk eye, the quivering lip, the chillness, torpor, pros- tration of strength, insufferable anxiety about the region of the heart, &c. are so perfectly analogous to the morbid influence of excessive cold, to the symptoms of typhus fevers, and the first stage of interrnittents, that no one can doubt of the per- nicious influence of this passion, in pre-disposing the body to the like diseases, and in aggravating their symptoms. Fear is peculiarly dangerous in every species of contagion, it has instantaneously changed the complexion of wounds, and rendered them fatal. It has occasioned gangrenes, indura- tions of the glands, epilepsies, the suppression of natural or beneficial secretions. It has induced a permanent stupor on the brain ; and the first horrors of the imagination have, in some cases, made too deep an impression to be effaced, by the most favourable change of circumstances. We have seen that Joy itself, though in its nature so pleas- ing, and in its general effect so salutary, has proved the cause of sudden death ; it is therefore not diffi- cult to admit that the agonizing effects of this dreadful passion, may be able to paralyze the grand organ of circulation, and like some pestilen- 278 MEDICAL INFLUENCE tial diseases, instantaneously induce the torpor of death. So pernicious are the natural and characteristic effects of Fear ! Yet in that state of body where a sedative power is requisite, and where a considera- ble degree of torpor has a tendency to check too great incitement, even this passion may become beneficial. Thus it has been known to relieve ex- cruciating fits of the gout; to have rendered maniacs calm and composed ; and in some cases, it has re- stored them to the regular use of their faculties. The effects of Fear, in affording temporary relief in the tooth-ache, are universally known ; acting as some systematics express themselves, by its sedative power, by which an inflammatory tension is appeased ; or as others, by inducing a torpor on the nerves, and thus rendering them insensible to pain. Terror, which is the agitation of Fear, sometimes produces effects upon the body, common to agita- tion, simply. In some cases, it rouses the energy of the system to an unusual degree ; and in others, it produces the irregular and convulsive action of the muscular system. Hence it is said to have caused, m some instances, and in others, to have cured the attacks of catalepsies, epilepsies, and other spasmodic disorders. We read of its having cured tertian fevers induced by fear;—restored speech to the dumb, and motion to paralytic limbs; —that by agitating the vascular system, it has been OF THE PASSIONS. 279 productive of haemorrhages ;—and also that it has been successful in dropsical habits. Perhaps the contractile power of fear, united with the agitations of terror, have both constricted and stimulated the relaxed and indolent absorbents, and enabled them to renew their office. The passion of Terror has frequently excited languid hypochondriacs, to exer- tions they had deemed impossible; and all their former maladies have been obliterated by their ap- prehensions of impending danger. Shame. Shame is sometimes connected with Fear, some- times with Terror ; and consequently it will, in particular instances, manifest symptoms belonging to these emotions. But young persons of great sensibility, who are delicately susceptible of honour or disgrace, are apt to blush at every trifle, without violent paroxysms either of fear or of terror. In these cases, where the effects of Shame are the least complicated, though they be strong, they are momentary. The heart is certainly agitated, some- times with pleasure, sometimes with pain ; but as the suffusion chiefly manifests itself in the face, and in the smaller vessels spread over the neck and breast, the singular effects of Shame cannot be at- tributed, solely, to the sudden impetus given to the heart. The Passion itself seems to have an influ- ence principally local; which we know to be the 280 MEDICAL INFLUENCE case with some other stimulants. The modest blush, unmixed with guilt or fear, seems to be inert, respecting medical effects. Nor are there any instances of its having been decidedly benefi- cial or injurious. It seems most calculated to in- crease cutaneous inflammations; but facts are wanting to confirm this idea. Attention of Mind. Habitual attention of mind, to any particular ob- ject, should it be of a pleasing nature, and proceed from a passionate fondness for that object, has proved pernicious to the constitution. The fatigue of the brain has indicated itself by cephalalgias, giddiness, &x.—the animal spirits have been exhausted ; the body has been rendered insensible to its accustom- ed stimuli; weariness and universal lassitude, pro- stration of strength, loss of appetite, indigestion, flatulencies, &c. have ensued; and the whole sys- tem has been rendered very susceptible of various morbid impressions. Yet salutary effects have is- sued from an eager attention to things novel, inter- esting, and mysterious. It has thus proved effica- cious in diseases subjected to periodical returns. It has prevented hysteric and epileptic fits, and charmed away agues. By connecting the perni- cious effects of habitual attention to the same ob- ject, with those accompanying fear, anxiety, sor- row, it is easy to perceive that the union of these OF THE PASSIONS. 281 must be peculiarly pernicious; that when the whole attention is employed upon things mournful, irritating, or calculated to inspire painful apprehen- sions,—when it is absorbed by corroding cares and anxious fears,—when it is the prey of chagrin and disappointment, the body may be expected to fall a speedy victim to the combined influence of such deadly poisons. Imagination. The power of Imagination in inducing and re- moving diseases, has been generally acknowledged. But this imagination could only produce its effects by the strong Affections which accompany it; otherwise it would be as inert as the most abstract idea. These affections are indicated in the various passions and emotions we have been contemplating. It is, moreover, worthy of notice, that in every powerful exertion of the Imagination, some change takes place in the body correspondent with its nature. In a keen appetite, upon the thoughts of some favourite viand, the salivary glands are stimu- lated to a secretion of saliva, as preparatory to deglutition. We feel ourselves collected, firm, elevated, upon the lively representation of the firm, heroic, dignified conduct of another. The blood thrills in our veins, and the skin corrugates, at the description of any thing peculiarly horrible; and under the strong impression of fictitious danger, the 36 282 MEDICAL INFLUENCE, &c. attitude of our bodies attempts to evade it! Full confidence in the mystic power of another, places the whole system in a situation most favourable to the effects, which the object of his confidence un- dertakes to produce. This will explain much of what is genuine, in the pretensions of magnetizers ; and the exaggerating dispositions of both operator and patient, will contribute to explain the rest. (See Note U.) The above sketch, concise and imperfect as it is, will be sufficient to evince, that the Passions and Emotions have a medical influence upon the body : and that each of them has its own characteristic influence, in its general mode of acting, although various and opposite effects may sometimes be pro- duced by incidental circumstances. This, how- ever, is precisely the case with the most esteemed medicaments ;—with every thing which is deemed noxious or beneficial in the mineral, vegetable, and animal kingdoms;—and with every part of nature, which possesses the power of acting upon the human frame. In this investigation the Author has simply en- deavoured to be the historian of facts, without in- tending to pay any deference to theory. But as medical language has chiefly been formed by diffe- rent theories, which have most rapidly succeeded to each other, it is difficult to use terms which do not acknowledge some system or other for their parent; or to express ideas, without seeming to have a predilection for one hypothesis in prefe- ON THOUGHT, &c. 283 rence to others, where the sole object is to estab- lish indisputable facts. (See Note W.) SECTION II. INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS ON THOUGHTS AND LANGUAGE. It has been remarked in our Analysis, that when- ever any subject presents itself to the mind, with sufficient force to excite a passion, or a very strong affection, all the powers of the imagination become immediately active. The whole soul is engaged upon its object, and the whole train of ideas is turned into a channel correspondent with the view we entertain of that. The mind, with wonderful facility, collects together whatever has been laid up in the storehouse of the memory, or can be combined by the force of the imagination. Every thing alien is totally excluded ; and it is in vain that others who are free from the impulse, attempt to suggest ideas of a contrary tendency. Reason becomes impotent, nor can the attention be direct- ed from such circumstances as are intimately con- nected with the exciting cause; and these are magnified and aggravated to the utmost extent. Subjects of joy appear, at the instant, to be the harbingers of essential and permanent bliss. The evils we fear, the injuries we suffer, the losses we 284 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS sustain, seem to be the greatest that could possibly have, been endured. This state of mind not only manifests itself by gestures, looks, and tones, correspondent with the nature of the passion ; but it has a characteristic influence upon the language and expressions em- ployed to give vent to the passion, as it is emphati- cally termed. Upon the first impulse, the thoughts are tu- multuous and confused. A thousand half-formed suggestions and apprehensions crowd in upon us, in rapid or disorderly succession ! Whoever contemplates the effects of the pas- sions, at this moment, will discover their perfect correspondence with the nature of those introduc- tory emotions of Surprise, Wonder, and Astonish- ment, described in the analytical part of this Trea- tise. It is manifestly through their influence that the mind is thus confused, and that every idea is embarrassment and conjecture. The Wonder and Amazement, so precipitately excited, are accom- panied by strong, abrupt, and indefinite language. The first impulse of Surprise deprives the subject of the power of utterance ; and the first exertions of this returning power consists in loud exclama- tions, adapted both to the nature of the emotion itself, and to its confusion and wonder, relative to the object. As all these introductory emotions are obviously founded on the weakness, ignorance, and conscious inferiority of our nature, thus do they prompt to ON THOUGHT, &c. 285 Language which confesses an humiliated state. Powers above us are, as it were, instinctively addressed, either with exclamations of gratitude, of appeal, imprecation, or invocation of aid ! Incredulity itself becomes most credulous; will thank the heavens for causes of excessive joy,— call aloud upon higher Beings for help in the mo- ment of danger,—mourn its destiny,—or curse its stars in the hour of vexation and disappointment ! Those who, in a tranquil state of mind, ridicule the idea of future retribution, often become the most extravagant in their benedictions or imprecations, at the instant of tumultuous passion ! After the first impulse of passion, we begin to advert to the particular state in which the exciting cause has placed us. As a lively imagination is always disposed to magnify, we deem ourselves for the instant, the most happy or the most wretched of mortals; and a new train of thoughts is suggested to prove or illustrate the supposition. Thus as the passion approaches somewhat nearer to an affection, the mind recovers, in some degree, its power over itself; yet it is still carried forwards by the torrent of ideas, which this novel situation has inspired, and which never would have been suggested, with such copiousness and energy, in a more tranquil state. As it still continues to feel strongly, so is it eager to do justice to its feelings, by the strength, pertinency, and impetuosity of its Language. Common terms are too cold, or too limited, to do justice to the energy of thought; 286 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS and it perceives no exaggerations in expressions the most exaggerated! All nature is ransacked for points of resemblance, to set forth the novel situa- tion, in the strongest colours. Impetuosity equally despises precision or detail. It eagerly seizes upon tropes and figures the most concise, and the most suited to its new conceptions ! All nature is full of analogy ! Every thing that exists possesses certain qualities or properties, which are not so peculiar to the individual, as to be destitute of some resemblance to other things that may be, in various respects, essentially differ- ent : and many of these properties are possessed, in an extraordinary degree by particular objects. To these the mind rapidly adverts, as descriptive of the peculiarities of its own situation; and as in the warmth of our sensations we are disposed to exag- gerate every thing, thus are we disposed to make quick transitions from one property to another, seated in the object referred to, by which a peculiar colouring or cast of character, is given to the sub- ject which interests us, and the desired energy is imparted to our feelings concerning it. To this, associated ideas and affections lend a very consid- erable aid. Thus it is that we not only catch the precise point of resemblance, but we instantaneous- ly elevate or debase a subject, hold it forth to ad- miration or contempt, render it respectable or ridicu- lous, according to the sources from whence our al- lusions are borrowed. ON THOUGHT, &c. 287 When passions and emotions have given place to more permanent affections, Language becomes less vehement and more diffuse. Under the influence of a particular affection, the mind loves to expand itself upon the circumstances which gave it exist- ence, and to dwell upon such minutiae as have a tendency to feed its flame. Thus under the influ- ence of Resentment, every species of aggravation is deliberately dwelt upon; every thing in the con- duct of the aggressor which may augment his cul- pability, and every part of our own demeanor, "are brought forwards to manifest the greatness of the offence, and how little we deserved it. In a state of fearful Apprehension, every possibility of danger is placed before us with all its horrors;—every dif- ficulty is magnified ;—and in every remedy or plan of security proposed, busy apprehension suggests reasons to evince that it will be ineffectual. In Sorrow we delight to expatiate upon the excel- lent qualities of the particular object, the pleasures and advantages of which we are now deprived ; and the imagination enumerates all the evils that will probably ensue from the privation. Under the influence of Love, the mind dwells upon the ac- complishments which have inspired the affection, recalls the scenes of pleasure past, anticipates those which are to come; and in the expression of these feelings, or in the acknowledgment of this influ- ence, it purposely prolongs the phraseology, which best prolongs the fascinating idea. 288 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS The address of Eve to her consort, in a state where the best affections alone could be indulged, is so beautiful an illustration of this subject, that a transcript of the whole passage cannot appear tedious. With thee conversing, I forget all time; All seasons and their change, all please alike. Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit and flower, Glist'ning will) dew : fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers, and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening mild ; then silent night, With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon, And the?e the gems of heav'n her starry traia ; But neither breath of morn, when she ascends With charms of earliest birds ; nor rising sun On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flcwer, Glist'uing with dew ; nor fragrance after showers : Nor grateful evening mild ; nor silent night, With this her solemn bird, nor w.*Ik by noon, Or glittering star light, without thee is sweet. PARADISE LOST. B. IV. L. 639. It is observable, that when a passion or a strong affection is not suddenly raised, but is produced by deliberate meditation upon the subject, the process is opposite to the preceding. From Indifference, the mind begins to conceive an Affection of one kind or other; and according to the discovered na- ture, magnitude, or importance of the object, it may gradually work itself up, as the phrase is, into passion and ecstasy. In such cases, the train of thoughts will flow with increased velocity and force, according to the increased interest taken in the ON THOUGHT, &c. 289 subject. Sterility of sentiment and of language is succeeded by a rapid flow of each. Pertinent thoughts and copious expressions immediately pre- sent themselves, which the deepest study, and all the powers of recollection, would not have been able to produce. Tiiey are only to be inspired by affections In this state of mind, the Language gradually changes its tone ; from the cool didactic style, it rises into the animated and energetic; though it seldom, if ever, indicates the embarrass- ment and confusion of thought, which are the offspring of wonder and surprise. Excess of ani- mation will indeed sometimes check utterance, and the orator will feel a deficiency of Language, to do justice to the numerous ideas which crowd in upon the mind. See many excellent observations on this subject in Elements of Criticism, Vol. II. Comparisons: Figures. If the above remarks be admitted as pertinent, they will point out the difference betwixt the language of the Passions and Affections, and that of cool dispassionate reason. The one is the language of feeling, which attempts to enforce some interesting idea ; the other that of discrimina- tion, which carefully marks the distinctions and differences which subsist in things apparently an- alogous. The one is prone to substitute strong impressions for realities, and to mistake exaggera- tions for accurate statements: the other analyzes and separates truth from error, facts from misrep- 37 290 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS resentations. The language of Passion and of strong Affections is always employed in pleading some cause. Aiming to give to that, the ascen- dancy over every other consideration, it rapidly collects and sets forth, in glowing colours, every circumstance favourable to its object, regardless of whatever may be advanced in opposition ; while the language of Reason is that of a Judge, who compares, balances, and decides, according to the force of evidence, without being deceived by the force of expression, or seduced by the sympathy of the passions. In these characters it is that the distinction be- tween rhetoric and logic indicates itself. The for- mer attempts to persuade ; it is the province of the latter to convince. This employs itself in demon- strations, respecting the truth and nature of things ; the other excites to feel and act, according to the opinion entertained of the good or bad properties which they possess, and are capable of exerting. In our description of the different Passions and Affections, it was requisite to point out those ex- ternal signs which wore the characteristic marks of each ; and to note the attitudes, gestures, and ex- pressions of countenance, which are most corres- pondent to the nature of the emotion. We have only to subjoin upon the subject, that when utte- rance is given to thought, the tone of voice be- comes a powerful auxiliary to the train of ideas suggested. Nature has accommodated the mode ON THOUGHT, kc. 291 of utterance to the character of the passion. Thus it has rendered Joy loud and vociferous, producing strong excla- mations, mixed with triumphant Laughter. Sorrow communicates a plaintiveness to the voice, best adapted to wailings and lamentations. Anger is loud and turbulent. The voice rises with the passion, in order to strike terror, and silence opposition. Fear is oppressed and breathless, or screams aloud for help. Love is soft, soothing, insinuating, and gentle ; sometimes assuming the plaintiveness of sorrow, sometimes the vivacity of hope, and the transports of joy. The other compounds partake of mixed effects. (See Note X.) The minute investigation of the passions in which we have been engaged, presents us with numerous observations of a moral and practical nature. But as the present Treatise is purposely confined to philosophical researches, we shall not enlarge upon so copious a subject. There are two inquiries, however, which, although they have an intimate relation to morals, cannot be refused a place in the philosophical departments They re- fer to the influence of the passions upon character, and upon happiness; and with these we shall close the subject. 292 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS SECTION III. INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS ON CHARACTER. The Nature of the Passions and Affections in- dulged, of the objects by which they are excited, and the degrees of influence and permanency, which they are suffered to exert upon us, consti- tute the moral characters of men ; pointing out either their innocence, their excellencies, or defects. By Character is generally understood the kind of reputation acquired, by the prevalent disposition of temper, which suggests almost every motive, and takes the lead in almost every action : and moral character refers to that prevalent temper which relates to the moral duties respecting either ourselves or others. This disposition consists in the prevalence of affection, that is, in the habitual pleasure or displeasure we take in certain modes of thinking and acting; and our opinion of the dis- position, is regulated by the different degrees of merit or demerit, which in our judgment is annex- ed to it. Mankind so far agree in their opinions, that they universally acknowledge some actions and the affections which produce them, either to be innocent, or to be deserving of various degrees of approbation or censure. They pay due hon- ours to characters, which appear to be formed upon the best of principles, and load the opposite with proportionate disgrace. ON CHARACTER. 293 The grand distinctions in moral conduct are in- dicated by the terms Virtue and Vice: and the subordinate ones under each, are either not mark- ed, or they are discriminated by appropriate appel- lations. The cardinal affections of Love and Hatred, in themselves possess neither merit or demerit.— Founded upon the ideas of Good and Evil, which may render our existence a blessing or a curse, they are, as it were, moulded in the very frame and constitution of all percipient beings. It is, therefore, neither a duty nor a possibility to divest ourselves of them. The passions, emotions, and affections, which are immediately consequent upon these, or may be deemed simple modifications of them, are also inseparable from our nature, and are both unavoidable and innocent: such as joy, satis- faction, contentment, hope, desire, fear, sorrow, anger, resentment, &c. These being derived from situations and circumstances, to which we are per- petually and necessarily exposed, are the natural result of impressions made upon susceptible beings. A virtuous or vicious Character therefore depends upon the nature of our choice, and the manner and extent to which those passions and emotions in- dulged, are permitted by the law of morals. Thus Virtue requires that the affections of love and ha- tred be properly placed; that real, not imaginary good ; real, not imaginary evil, be the objects of them. It requires that we proportion the degrees of our affection to the value and importance of 294 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS objects; that we be neither indifferent to essential worth, nor suffer things trifling and insignificant to engross the best of our affections. Virtue allows the first impulse of anger where the provocation is great; as insensibility would invite injuries, and give to unreasonable and wicked men a decided superiority over the moderate and just. But Vir- tue forbids anger to exceed the magnitude of the offence : being in every case a species of punish- ment, if it be excessive, the surplus becomes an in- justice. Virtue requires anger to be of short du- ration, where offences are not permanent; strictly prohibits it from seeking revenge. Its grand ob- ject is private or public security, and it abhors ha- bitual hatred and malignity. It allows and re- quires us to cherish the feelings of contempt and indignation, as long as mean and atrocious vices continue ; but it absolutely commands us to pardon, where the character and conduct of the offender are changed, by repentance and reformation. Virtue stigmatizes, with peculiar disgrace, the want of those affections which benefits received, and a great superiority of character ought to call forth; such as ingratitude to benefactors, and want of respect for superiors in wisdom and goodness. As we experience that the possession of the good things of life contribute to our happiness, we cannot be insensible to the privation of them ; Virtue ac- cordingly permits a degree of sorrow and grief, correspondent to the nature of our loss; but it for- bids the obstinate indulgence of melancholy, as this ON CHARACTER. 295 forgets, or destroys, the benignant effects of every remaining blessing ; and it is of consequence char- geable with both folly and ingratitude. Virtue re- quires repentance, as the medium of restoration to order and to duty ; for this purpose it permits re- morse, but never enjoins despair. It allows of fear as far as this excites to caution; and even of terror, when the mind has been surprised by something tremen- dous ; but habitual fear it terms cowardice, and to terror perpetually excited by small causes, it gives the appellation of pusillanimity. It approves of the emulation which animates to worthy deeds, or to advancement in every species of excellence: nor does it forbid the ambition which is productive of general good ; but it execrates the wretch who wades through seas of blood, and tramples upon the slain, to rise above all those whom his baneful sword has spared. Envy, which is the antipode to benevolence, Virtue knows not: and though it admits of jealous alarms upon great occasions, and prompted by strong presumptive evidence, yet it is a stranger to unauthorised suspicions. It per- mits the moderate desire of wealth, as the means both of comfort and usefulness ; but it lays rapa- ciousness and avarice under the severest interdict. It allows of self-defence, and we are occasionally inspired with strength and courage for the purpose; but it disdains the use of treacherous means of se- curity, and the acts of cruelty which characterize the barbarian and the coward. 296 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS These remarks point out another distinction of the passions and affections, as they relate to the moral character, indicating a scale of comparative merit and demerit. Some are innocent simply ; as hope, joy, moderate grief. Some are laudable ; as contentment, satisfaction, complacency. Others are deemed peculiarly noble. Thus the virtue of Benevolence is much more dignified than any of the affections which originate and terminate in Self. In the different branches of this virtue there are also degrees of excellence. Warm sympathe- tic emotions, when they prompt to peculiar exertions, are in higher estimation than the calmer feelings and offices of charity ; and Mercy, by subduing resent- ment, is justly deemed more transcendent than either. Some feelings are so essential, that to be destitute of them is highly disgraceful ; as the want of Gratitude. The angry passions, though they may be innocent, yet they stand upon the very brink of demerit, being so proximate to injustice and cruelty. Some affections and dispositions are contemptible; as sordid avarice, envy, malice: these are despised by all who are not under their influence. Ingenuous shame is viewed with ap- probation, as it indicates a consciousness of defect, united with reverence for opinion. Guilty shame, though not criminal in itself, yet being the detection of criminality, it sometimes exposes the offender to the severest contempt; as when it marks the coun- tenance of a detected hypocrite : sometimes it will excite compassion, and prompt to forgiveness; ON CHARACTER. 297 when, for example, art offence, highly disreputable, is proved to be a total deviation from the general tenour of conduct. The blush indicates a mind not inured to vice. It sues for compassion, and proves that it is not totally unworthy of it. Again, in our search after happiness, each par- ticular desire and pursuit is either deemed innocent, or it assumes an honourable or ignominious cha- racter, according to the nature of the object, the eagerness with which it is followed, and the means employed for its attainment. Some desires are discriminated by particular appellations, which serve to stigmatize, or do honour to the affections ; while others, not marking either excellence or cul- pability, have no terms of discrimination. Several instances of this nature have been given under the article of Desire, by which it appears that a prevalent love of virtue and detestation of vice have, in every case where personal interest has not perverted the judgment, and alienated the af- fections, taught all mankind, without previous con- sultation or conspiracy, to invent the concisest mode of testifying approbation or disapprobation, according to the apparent degrees of merit or de- merit. Similar to the plan of an universal lan- guage, which some have deemed practicable, or to pre-concerted signals, and telegraphic signs, very complex ideas are conveyed by simple terms, which immediately express satire or applause, crown with honour, or call forth abhorrence. The numerous 38 298 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS occasions which incessantly present themselves, of expressing our opinions of human actions, and our eagerness to approve or censure, render us impa- tient of paraphrase, or circumlocution. It is also observable that our ideas of Character are invariably formed, according to the habitual tendency of disposition and conduct to become beneficial or pernicious; that is to promote or to destroy Good ! Where conduct has no immediate relation to these, it does not call forth animad- version. In proportion as it produces and dissemi- nates Good ; as it makes exertions and consents to liberal sacrifices for this purpose, does it meet with our applause and admiration. In proportion as vice diffuses Misery, as it is the result of mean and selfish principles, indicated by pre-concerted plans and propensities, to sacrifice the felicity of others to our own narrow personal gratifica- tions, it becomes detestable and abhorrent. Hence Compassion meets with warmer applause than the simple love of Justice, because Compassion is an actual participation in the sufferings of another; while Justice is only a due solicitude that they shall not suffer any unmerited injury from us. A merciful and forgiving disposition is still more noble, because it generously removes a very power- ful impediment, which the offending party him- self has raised, against the exercise of our com- passion, for the distress to which his injustice towards us has exposed him. On the other side, Treachery and Cruelty are more detestable than common acts of injustice, because the one is a ON CHARACTER. 299 grosser abuse of that confidence without which society cannot subsist; and the other manifests not only inordinate self-love, but the want of that natural affection which is due to every being; substituting the affection of hatred in its place. It is further manifest from the above remarks, that both Virtue and Vice are the offspring of passions and affections in themselves innocent. The natural desires and affections implanted in our very make, are void of guilt. Respecting these, virtue simply requires a proper choice, inno- cent pursuits, and moderation in our enjoyments. Vice consists in an improper, or forbidden choice, in the excess or perversion, of the natural pro- pensity of our natures. Lawless ambition is the excess of a desire to distinguish ourselves, which, under certain restrictions, is a blameless incentive to useful actions. As every species of debauchery consists in the irregular indulgence of the appe- tites, in themselves natural and innocent, thus are the most disorderly and malevolent affections the abuse of some affections, which in certain cir- cumstances, may be allowable and beneficial. Envy is anger, unjust, and pettish, at the good fortune of another, mixed with a very false idea of our superior deserts. Cruelty is the excess of a severity, which in itself may be justifiable ; and Malice the most inveterate, is the cruelty of envy, attempting by words and actions to destroy or diminish the good we cannot participate. 300 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS Thus then it appears, that Character depends upon the prevalent use or abuse of certain pro- pensities or affections of our nature. Those who select and cultivate the most beneficial are the best of characters; those, who are habituated to the most injurious, are the worst. SECTION IV. INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS ON HAPPINESS. Though the desire of Good is in reality the efficient cause of every passion, emotion, and affec- tion, yet the immediate effects of each on our sensations, are correspondent to its own specific nature. To be under the influence of some, is productive of temporary well being; while others are comfortless, irksome, or productive of a great degree of wretchedness. Love considered as an affection placed upon a deserving object, and recompensed with reciprocal affection, Joy, Ecstasy, Complacency, Satisfac- tion, Contentment, lively Hope, these are decided- ly the sources of present enjoyment. The social affections of Benevolence, Sympathy, Compassion, and Mercy, are also other ingredients of happi- ness, from a less selfish and more refined source than the preceding. A steady, uniform disposi- ON HAPPINESS 301 tion manifested by incessant endeavours to promote happiness, is invariably rewarded with a large por- tion of it. Benevolence places the mind at a remote distance from little jealousies and envy- ings : it tempers the irritative nature of anger, and teaches compassion to subdue it. Through Bene- volence, the good enjoyed by another becomes our own, without a robbery or privation. This divine principle harmonizes the mind with every thing around, and feels itself pleasingly con- nected with every living being. It generates, communicates, and enjoys happiness. When be- nevolence manifests itself by sympathy, compas- sion, and mercy, some portion of uneasiness, it is acknowledged, accompanies the sensation con- genial to its nature : but the exercise of these af- fections communicates a pleasing pain. The de- gree of uneasiness is more than recompensed, by the satisfaction enjoyed from the relief of distress ; and even from the consciousness of a disposition to relieve. There is often a luxury in sympathetic sorrow; and the tear shed over distress becomes a pearl of inestimable price. Every species of Be- nevolence possesses the quality which our great dramatic Poet has ascribed to a merciful disposi- tion. The quality of Mercy's not restrain'd: It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven, Upon the land beneath. It is twice blessed; [t blesies him tlipt gives, and him that takes. SHAKSPBARI. 302 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS The mildest of the affections which belong to the family of Love, diffuse a pleasurable tranquilli- ty over the mind. They constitute the healthy state of the soul, united with a consciousness of this health. The more lively affections invigorate the frame, exciting a delectable vivacity ; and the impetuous emotions, termed ecstasies and tran- sports, infuse a wild tumultuous pleasure! Im- moderation leaves the helm ; the animal spirits un- controuled violently agitate the corporeal frame, and confound the mental faculties in a pleasing de- lirium. In some of these kindly emotions, circumstances and situations, in themselves displeasing, are ren- dered capable of communicating pleasure. Thus in the sudden possession of good conferred by a superior, Gratitude, though it is so closely connect- ed with the idea of our own wants, and the de- pendancy of our state, rises above these natural causes of depressed spirits. The attention is arrested by the Good received, and the heart gloivs with Affection towards the benefactor ; which is a more pleasing sensation than Independency itself could ensure. Thus in the contemplation of the unrivalled excellencies possessed by another, lively enjoyment becomes intimately connected with the deepest sense of inferiority : as in the emotions of admiration, reverence, and awe. Nor is Humility, notwithsiaiidag :-s abject appearance, devoid of Dignity. It is aeo , r^ied with a strong Affec- tion for excellencies, while it laments that it can- ON HAPPINESS. 303 not attain them : and a conscious wish, to subdue remaining defects, inspires more Satisfaction than the self-sufficiency of arrogance can boast. Even Desire itself, which is an eager longing for gratifi- cation,—if it be not intemperate,—if it be united with hope,—if it be not prolonged to the weariness of patience, is cherished with a great degree of pleasure. The expectancy of enjoyment more than counterpoises the pain created by suspense. Another set of emotions and affections are of the unquiet and irritating class; as the whole family of Anger. The exciting objects are unwelcome to the mind which contemplates them, and the sensa- tions they produce are turbulent and painful. It is true, some degree of satisfaction may be inspired by the vivid idea entertained, at the instant, of the justice of our cause, as also by the gratification, of even the resolution to gratify, the newly-created desire of revenge, or by the conscious superiority which accompanies contempt and disdain; but these are purchased at the expence of the infinitely superior pleasures, infused by the opposite spirit of love, complacency, and benevolence. The mind finds itself in bondage to its emotions, and feels that it is driven by their impetuosity, not only to the greatest distance from the nobler sources of en- joyment, but to the verge of misery itself. Dan- ger is apprehended from the excess of passion, while it is indulged; and the subject himself trembles, lest it should be productive of irreparable evil, repentance, and remorse. 304 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS Sorrow and Grief, though they are certainly in the class of the most unpleasant affections, yet they have something so fascinating in them, that the mind under their influence, is arrested and absorb- ed, as it were, in the contemplation of their cause. The good of which we are deprived is now appre- ciated, perhaps, for the first time, according to its value ; perhaps beyond its' value. This contempla- tion of qualities, which once gave delight, or which were fondly expected to give delight, mingles a pleasure with the severe pain, which privation or disappointment has occasioned. Even Penitence and.Contrition, when they are inspired by ingenuous motives,—when a detesta- tion of former conduct proceeds from a conviction of its baseness, and sorrow for the injury it has done, and not from the apprehension of punish- ment or the shame of detection, even penitence and contrition are not devoid of pleasure ! The Peni- tent, in the midst of his painful self-condemnation, feels a latent satisfaction in the disposition and re- solution to return to the paths of virtue. The emotions and affections, of Fear, Dread, Horror, Despair, are of the most horrid and tre- mendous class. They vary in degrees of wretch- edness, according to the degrees of their intense- ness, whether this be increased by temperament, by the extreme importance, or by the complicated nature of the exciting cause. Excessive Jealousy, Envy, Remorse, Despair, Shame arising from the detection of guilt, are misery unmixed. They ren- ON HAPPINESS. 305 der life insufferable, and tempt the despondent and distracted mind to venture upon all the horrors of an unknown state, rather than support the pangs of its present feelings. Surprise, Wonder, Astonishment, principally re- ceive their complexion from the subjects that in- spire them ; and they are introductory to happiness or misery, according to the nature of the cause ex- citing them. In Surprise particularly, the sudden and unexpected arrival of an interesting event, cor- respondent with the nature of the affection already indulged, will turn hope and joy into ecstasy, dis- pleasure into anger, and fear into terror and dis- may. Thus, in the pleasing emotions, the idea of Good necessarily predominates ; and in the painful ones, the idea of Evil. Accordingly, those emotions which are produced by complicated good, or by the union of such causes, as separately possess the power of calling forth pleasing emotions and affec- tions, contribute most to happiness. In the emo- tions of hope, satisfaction, and joy, when personal concerns are intimately connected with some com- mon interest, and the blessings received have an extensive influence, the emotions receive additional vigour, and are enjoyed with peculiar suavity. Social affections are now blended with self-love. The two torrents which so frequently oppose each other, fortunately unite and enlarge the stream of enjoyment; and the most desireable branch of be- nevolence, rejoicing with those that rejoice, is 39 306 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS, &c. super-added to the natural pleasure we take in our own good. Again, Gratitude, unites to the joy inspired by a benefit received, the pleasure derived from an affec- tionate sense of the obligation, and of love to the benefactor ; and if the magnitude of the benefit, or the mode of conferring it, be productive of surprise, wonder, admiration, the delectable affections of joy, gratitude, and love, will, by the operation of these vivid passions, be proportionably augmented. Were the imagination commanded to paint the highest felicity to be enjoyed by created beings, it would surely point out the union of the following emotions and affections. Ardent Love for an object decidedly worthy of our love, chastened with high Veneration ;—Astonishment inspired by the con- templation of the number and extent of its excel- lencies, and at the unremitted exertion of these ex- cellencies in the diffusion of good ;—Admiration at the wise means adapted to the accomplishment of the interesting purpose ;—Joy and Gratitude for benefits already received ;—lively Hope of good in- calculable in reserve for ourselves, conjointly with others whose welfare we ardently desire, accompa- nied with a Consciousness that we also have con- tributed a something to the general mass of felicity, according to the extent of our ability! These are ingredients to constitute the perfection of bliss! Love, Joy, Gratitude, Surprise, Admiration, Com- placency, Hope, and Benevolence unbounded, may thus occupy the mind in a transporting variety, or by exerting their united powers at the same instant, occasion inconceivable raptures! !! Jlotcs TO THE PRECEDING TREATISE. ET<0VX3 TO THE PRECEDING TREATISE. Note A. After " Whether its influence be of a pleasant or unpleasant nature." Page 21. This opinion has the support of respectable authorities. Dr. Watts remarks, that " the word properly signifies receiving " the action of some agent." (See Watts on the Passions.) Mr. Grove observes, that " the mind in certain circumstan- " ces, and within certain degrees, has no dominion over itself, " or the body. It is in a manner passive, can neither help " the agitation of the blood and spirits, nor help being itself « affected by them." (See Sys. of Moral Phil. Vol. 1. Ch. vii.) Seneca also thus expresses himself: " Omnes motus qui " non voluntate nostra fiunt, invicti, et inevitabiles sunt: " ut horror frigida aspersis ; ad quosdam ictus, aspernatio ; « ad pejores nuntios subriguntur pili ; et ruber ad improba « verba suffunditur ; sequitur vertigo praerupta cernentes. " Ista ut ita dicam, patitur magis animus quam/actf." (De Ira. L. 2. C. 2.) Note B. After « are the most appropriate." Page 28. ITisacknowIedgedthatthese words are frequently used in- discriminately, and sometimes without manifest impropriety ; 310 NOTES TO THE but if they cannot be used at all times, with equal propriety, there must be a specific difference between them. Now it is observable th;it the word Emotion is not frequently applied to those passions in which the external signs are the least vio- lent. We seldom say that any one is under the emotion of Fear ; because abject fear has something oppressive in its na- ture, and is frequently silent and motionless. When fear is indicated by violent agitations, it acquires the character of terror ; and we feel that the phrase emotions of terror is strict- ly proper. We never apply the epithet to hope, distinctly considered, because though it be lively and animating, it is not accompanied by external signs of transport. When these ap- pear they are always ascribed to the joy, which is frequently connected with hope ; and we perceive a peculiar propri- ety in the term joyful emotions, because joy is so frequently indicated by some eccentric tokens. Whoever attends to these circumstances, in addition to the principles already advanced, will be surprised at the assertion of Lord Kaims, that " an emotion is in its nature quiescent, and " merely a passive feeling." (Elements of Criticism, 5th Edit. Vol. 1. Page 44.) Both the etymology of the word, and almost every connection in which it is used with decided propriety, confute this strange position. The Author was probably led into the idea by the very confined view he has taken of the passions, in his elegant Essay. He chiefly con- siders them as connected with the fine Arts, and subjects of taste ; and as expressive of those agreeable or disagreeable effects which they produce, when first presented to our no- tice. These effects, it is allowed, are seldom so violent, in cultivated minds, as to occasion the emotions which indicate themselves by strong and characteristic marks. His Lordship having denied external signs to emotions, has transferred them to the passions. But in order to establish his hypothesis, he is obliged to give a very different definition of the passions from any that his predecessors have adopted, or that either etymology or usage will justify. According to his system, a passion is compounded of this quiescent PRECEDING TREATISE. 311 emotion, and a desire to obtain the object which occasioned it. " An internal motion or agitation of the mind," says he, " when it passeth away without desire, is denominated an " emotion ; when desire follows, the motion or agitation is " denominated a passion." Numerous objectioBS might be opposed to the position. I shall only observe that according to this hypothesis, the external signs of the passions would be the strongest where desires are the strongest; which is directly opposite to what we perceive in the avaricious man :—that joy can neither be considered as a passion nor an emotion ; because its visible transports would destroy its title to the latter, and its being excited, not by desire itself, but by the accomplishment of a desire, will exclude it from the former :—Nor can we discover what should, at any time, excite those transports which are sometimes both visible and tremendous ; for emotions being quiescent, and desires not being of themselves turbulent, their union, could they possibly exist together, is not likely to produce those corpo- real agitations so frequently observable ; unless we were to admit a process similar to a chemical fermentation. But they cannot exist together, and consequently an emotion can receive no assistance from desire, by which it may be trans- formed into a passion ; for, according to his own system, desire succeeds to emotion. His Lordship's embarrassment on this subject, which he in- genuously acknowledges, manifestly proceeds from his not hav- ing made a fortunate selection of terms, to discriminate exist- ent differences. To every simple impression he has given the name of an emotion ; and he has applied the term passion ex- clusively, to what is in its own nature an affection ; and when- ever it is considered as a Passion, it is merely in its secon- dary sense ; expressing the captivating influence of any particular object of desire or of an irresistible attachment to it. By admitting these few alterations, what he has written on the subject may be read with much edification and pleas- ure. 312 NOTES TO THE Note C. After " It would be to annihilate misery." Page 36. Dr. Hartley, in establishing the doctrine of vibrations, and the hypothesis of associated ideas founded upon it, asserts that " the desire of happiness, and aversion to misery, are not in- " separable from and essential to all intelligent natures." Without venturing to oppose, unnecessarily, so cautious and conclusive a reasoner, I shall just observe, that the above as- sertion is expressed in much stronger language, than the prin- ciples which he attempts to enforce absolutely require. It is acknowledged that his theory opposes the existence of in- nate ideas ; and whoever admits the theory must allow, that there can be no desire after happiness, or fear of misery, be- fore we have been made acquainted, some way or other, with their natures. Therefore, when he asserts that the desire of happiness, and aversion of misery, are not inseparable from, and essential to all intelligent natures, he can only mean, that they are not co existent with the power of intelligence, and that they are desires and aversions acquired by experience ; not that the reflective mind can, at any time, be totally indifferent about happiness and misery. For by whatever method we may have obtained a knowledge of either, the position remains indubitable, that no one ever tasted of happiness, or possessed the smallest degree of ease or pleasure, without contracting an affection for them ; or experienced misery and uneasiness, without contracting an hatred towards them. Note D. After " The individual stock of each would render happiness universal." Page 40. It would not only be a severe but an absurd requisition, to expect that mankind should universally be more attentive to PRECEDING TREATISE. 313 the welfare of others than to their own. This would be to love our neighbours better than ourselves, without ascribing to them any of the qualities requisite to attract our love. Nor would this mode of exercising benevolence be so productive of good as the prese.nt constitution of our nature, as it would be impossible to obtain an equal knowledge of their wants and desires ; nor would it be so favourable to the cause of benevolence as has been imagined. No mind tru ly generous, or deserving of attention, could possibly receive the gift of Well-being entirely at the expence of the Donor. Thus, were the selfish principle totally extinguished, the reciprocal communication of good would be little more than a compli- mentary exchange. Note E. After " Not always in our recollection." Page 43. Some Authors, of great respectability, have expressed themselves in a manner which conveys ideas very different from those we have attempted to establish. Dr. Reid speaks of loving things for their own sakes, and considers the class of philosophers who suppose that the love of every object may be resolved into its utility, to be in an error. Lord Kaims maintains that some affections are neither selfish nor social. These opinions seem to receive support from the sentiment of Cicero, who observes " Est quiddam quod sua vi nos illiciat •' ad se ; non emolumento captans aliquo, sed trahens sua " dignitate : quod genus, virtus, scientia, Veritas."'' It is so presumptuous to differ from such authorities, that I am reluctant to expose myself to the suspicion. Their doc- trine is expressed in very ambiguous language. It is possible that a proper investigation of the subject will indicate that it does not, in its tenour, oppose the sentiments advanced in the 40 314 NOTES TO THE text. If I fail in this attempt, it may still appear that it has not confuted them. When it is said that we love things for their own sakes, let us examine what signification can be attached to the expression ? We could not possibly love any thing totally void of qualities, were it possible for such a thing to exist ; because there would be nothing to love. But the things specified by these authors, as being attractive by their dignity alone, manifestly possess qualities of the highest utility : for their dignity it- self consists in the superiority of their usefulness. When, therefore, it is alleged that such things are loved for their own sakes, the only consistent idea ' we can annex to the phrase must be, that we love them from their capacity of produc- ing, in certain circumstances, some great and extensive good ; though we should not experience the good, or observe the application of this power, in particular instances, either in ourselves or others. For example, it is as certain that virtue, science, truth, are of infinite importance to the welfare of the whole intelligent creation, as that they possess the powerful at- tractions ascribed to them by Cicero. A society of liars would create greater confusion than that of Babel ; nor could it ex- ist for a day. Science dispels pernicious ignorance ; it makes us acquainted with the choicest qualities existent ; and univer- sal Virtue would be productive of universal happiness. Eve- ry man, therefore, whose mind is not upon a level with the brute creation, and who has perceived, in a single instance, the beneficial effects, flowing from these excellencies, or the baneful consequences engendered by their contraries, must respect them. This respect, however, will be founded either upon his own experience, or upon his observation of their in- fluence on others. In the first case they are the result of personal love of good ; and in the second, of the benevolent principle. For it is very obvious that the class of objects, of which it is asserted that they are loved for their own sakes, alone attract the attention of the cultivated mind, or of such as possess a considerable share of natural benevolence. PRECEDING TREATISE. 315 Innumerable are the proofs that the very capacity of being useful, will inspire an affection for many things, which are permitted to remain in a dormant state. The miser loves his gold so intensely, that he will not part with it, in exchange for the choicest blessing it is able to purchase. The man of science loves his library, though it may contain many hundred volumes which he has never consulted. The good housewife delights in the plate or porcelain, which is perpetually locked up in her cabinet; and the eastern monarch is watchful over a seraglio infinitely too extensive for his enjoyment. The above instances point out the sense in which we may be said to love any thing for its own sake. These different ob- jects are loved, as powers of utility or gratification in reserve, that is, we are so constituted that we cannot avoid approving, admiring or loving, whatever possesses in a great degree, ei- ther the capacity or the disposition to promote, what we deem to be good for us, or what is pleasing to us. Note F. After " threaten to endanger our well-being." Page 51. Mr. Hume commences his Dissertation on the Passions in the following manner : " Some objects produce an agreeable sen- " sation, by the original structure of our organs ; and are thence " denominated Good ; as others, from immediate disagree- able sensations, acquire the appellation of Evil. Thus " moderate warmth is agreeable and good ; excessive heat, " painful and evil. " Some objects again by being naturally conformable or con- " trary to passion, excite an agreeable or painful sensation, « and are thence called good or evil. The punishment of an " adversary by gratifying' revenge is Good ; the sickness of a " companion by affecting friendship, is evil."1 Win it be necessary to point out to any of my readers the per- nicious sophistry of this statement ? Is it not a wanton introduc- 316 NOTES TO THE tion of a chaos, I will not say in morals, but in the nature and character of human motives and human conduct ? It gives the important appellation of Gtod, to the greatest opposites, without discriminating the specific natures of each ; merely because, in somp circumstances, and in some characters, they may produce pleasing or painful sensations. Thus is moderate warmth placed upon a level with sentiments and dis- positions, calculated to produce the most exalted felicity ; and to the gratification of revenge, is given the same colouring as to the pardon of an injury, or alleviating distress ! This studied confusion of ideas may, in some connections, be productive of wit. It is always "such stuff as conundrums " are made oj" but it is directly opposite to the genius of true philosophy. If my ideas of a conundrum be accurate, it consists in an at- tempt to make two things appear closely to resemble each oth- er, which are the most opposite in their natures. This is done by directing the attention to some medium thought or middle term, which may, in one sense or other, be applicable to each. For example, if it be asked why is a person in the upper part of a house committing theft, like a man of the strictest virtue ? The answer is, because he is above, doing a bad action. The word above being in certain senses applica- ble to each subject, we are surprised and amused at the un- expected points of resemblance. Thus again if it be asked, In what docs a person, who attempts to kill another in a fit of an- ger, resemble the man who protects his life ? The answer of Mr. Hume will be, both actions excite agreeable sensations, and are therefore Good ! The first conundrum is allowed to be better than the second ; but this will only prove that there are degrees of excellence in this kind of writing, as well as in every other ; and that it is much better adapted to subjects of amusement, than to philosophy. PRECEDING TREATISE. 317 Note G. After " the passions and affections could not have been excited." Page S3. Perhaps there is no branch of philosophy more difficult, than that of distinguishing between real and apparent qualities in objects. Since all that we know of qualities is derived from the impression made upon us, a previous question presents itself, whether our susceptibility of impressions be always ac- curate, or perfectly correspondent with the real nature of the object ? Until this point be settled, our ideas of qualities must be vague and indeterminate. Lord Kaims has. in one in- stance, made the attempt ; but his observations are so unsatis- factory, and his mode of reasoning so inconclusive, that I feel myself much relieved in not being obliged to imitate his ex- ample. In a chapter where he treats of Emotions and Passions as pleasant and painfid, agreeable and disagreeable, he attempts to prove that agreeable and disagreeable are qualities in the Ob- ject perceived, pleasant and unpleasant are descriptive of the Emotions we feel. The former ffre perceived as adhering to the object, the latter are felt as existing in us. At first view, these distinctions appear specious, but, upon critical examina- tion, apprehensions may be justly entertained, whether they be not instances of that inaccuracy which he considers to be " not at all venial in the science of Ethics." " Viewing a garden," says he, " I perceive it to be beauti- '< ful or agreeable ; and I consider the beauty or agreeable- " ness as belonging to the object, or as one of its qualities. " When I turn my attention from the garden to what passes " in my mind, I am conscious of a pleasant emotion, of which " the garden is the cause ; the pleasure here is felt as a ;t quality, not of the garden, but of the emotion produced by " it. I give another example. A rotten carcase is disagreea- " ble, and raises in the spectator a painful emotion : the disa- 318 NOTES TO THE " greeableness is a quality of the Object; the pain is a quali- " ty of the Emotion produced by it." (Elements of Criticism, " vol. i. chap. ii. part II.) With deference to so respectable an authority, this distinc- tion does not appear to be just. Agreeable, according to its etymology, manifestly relates to the effects produced upon us, as much as the word pleasant. The difference is in degree, not in nature. Agreeable expresses something that appears suitable or correspondent with our nature, dispositions, and tastes ; something that perfectly agrees with us ; exciting the idea of comfort, and inspiring contentment and satisfaction. What is pleasant goes farther. It excites a sensation within us, more nearly approaching to an emotion. That agreeable- ness cannot be allowed to exist in the subject itself, is plain, from the diversity of opinions concerning it, without the pos- sibility of discovering a standard, by which to mark a devia- tion from the law of nature. Were it resident in Objects, the effects must be uniform and absolute, in every one whose powers of perception are not disordered. But this is not the case. Numberless causes conspire to change our ideas of the qualities of Objects, and may render some objects agreeable or disagreeable, pleasant or unpleasant to the same person at different times. To give a familar instance. Sweet things are most agreeable to children ; but when they become adults the taste is changed. It is possible that the smoke of tobacco, and the taste of porter may become agreeable to the man, who detested them when a chi'd. Can we say, therefore, that there is an inherent agreeableness in tobacco which pleases the adult, and an inherent disagreeableness which disgusts the infant? Or to admit his Lordship's example of a garden. It is acknowledged that the idea of a garden excites pleasant sen- sations, in most persons. Plenty of the delicate luxuries of nature, beauty, verdure, variegated flowers, &c. elegant retire- ment from the noise and bustle of the world, crowd in upon the imagination. But are we agreed in every circumstance respecting a garden ? Was not the stiffest formality once deemed an essential beauty ? Has not this taste given way to PRECEDING TREATISE. 319 irregular clumps and clusters ? Are not these of late become the subject of ridicule, and a style more correspondent with the wild beauties of nature preferred ? And when these have been enjoyed for some time, a future race may possibly ob- serve that the distinction between a garden and a field is not sufficiently marked, and may again place their ideas of beauty in that formal regularity, which is at present so much despis- ed. Note H. After " Either taste or address, &c." Page 77. Dr Watts does not seem to have expressed himself with sufficient accuracy, when he observes, that " If any object ap- " pear pleasing and fit to do us good, it raises the love of " complacency." These two expressions are not synonymous. Many things may be pleasing to us, from which we apprehend mischief ; and in these we cannot take complacency. Again he says, " Complacency dwells upon its object with " delight: We gaze upon a figure, we listen to music, we " dwell long in a fine garden, we dwell in the company of our " friends." All these instances contain attributes calculated to inspire complacency, as ingenuity and taste may be manifested in the three first, and worth moral or mental, may be possess- ed by the last. Yet it may be justly doubted, whether preci- sion of language will permit us to apply the word Complacen- cy to these cases, unless there be some kind or degree of ap- propriation. We may approve ; we may enjoy great pleasure and delight in inanimate objects, when we view them as be- longing to strangers : but it has never been said of a connois- seur, that he took complacency in the Apollo de Belvedere, or in the Venus de Mcdicis, in Stone Gardens, or the Leasorves of Shenstone, however he may have been delighted by these ob- jects. Some kind of relation, however slight, appears neces- sary, to enable even such objects to inspire complacency. If 320 NOTES TO THE we take complacency in garments, or flowers, or gardens, it is when they belong either to ourselves or to our friend ; or when they manifest our own taste or skill, or that of another for whom we are interested. Nor will the most perfect Con- cert excite complacency in the audience at large, though it may in the composers, performers, directors, or any of their particular acquaintances. Note I. After "Pride." Page 80. The above definition and descriptions of Pride, are founded upon the various acceptations of that word in common lan- guage, and supported by the authority of our best Writers. But Mr. Hume, in defiance of each, has given a very diffe- rent definition of pride, which I believe to be totally his own, and ought of consequence to possess great internal merit to justify its boldness, in opposing those ideas which have hitherto been received universally. Let us examine it. He defines pride to be a " certain satisfaction in ourselves, " on account of some accomplishment or possession which " we enjoy." Again. " The object of pride is self, the " cause, some excellence.'''' Again. " Our merit raises pride, " and it is essential to pride to turn our view on ourselves " with complacency and satisfaction." (See Dissertation on the Passions, passim.) As Mr. Hume has made no distinction between real and supposed merit, he necessarily directs our thoughts to abso- lute merit; nor can there, according to this statement, be any place for a vitious pride, or an illfounded confidence in our own superiority. This is excluded, by his definition, from the character of pride. Our Philosopher has also advanced, in another place, that " Self satisfaction, in some degree at least, is an advan- " tage which equally attends the Fool and the Wise." PRECEDING TREATISE. 321 (On Qualities necessary to ourselves. § 6.) Now what is the cause of this self-satisfaction, in the fool? According to the above position it must be Merit. And in the wise man ? Merit. Thus the wise man and the fool are made to resem- ble each other so closely, in the most interesting of all desirable qualities, merit, and self-satisfaction, that there is no material difference between them. What there is, will probably be to the advantage of the fool. As he will be much more liable to be pleased with himself, our Author's hypothesis leads us to suspect that he may possess the most merit. Should it be alleged that the above statement is a misrepre- sentation ; I would answer, that such an allegation can alone be supported by explanations which will militate against the sentiments, so repeatedly and assiduously advanced. Re- course must be had to a distinction between real and sup- posed merit. This will demonstrate that there must be two species of pride included in the definition ; and that these are as opposite to each other as light and darkness, know- ledge and ignorance ; and, consequently, that it is not only very unphilosophical to comprise the most opposite qualities under the same genus, but very ungenerous to confound the good principle with the evil one, by giving indiscriminately the same appellations to both. Note K. After "the ambitious passions is a familiar expression." Page 86. Dr. Reid places Desires among the animal principles ; but he distinguishes them " from the Appetites by this, that there " is not a sensation proper to each, and always accompany- " ing it; and that they are not periodical but constant, not " being satiated with their object for a time as the appetites "are." He adds, "the desires I have in view are chiefly 41 322 NOTES TO THE " these three, the desire of power, the desire of esteem, " and the desire of knowledge." This is not the place to enquire whether the desires, here specified, deserve to be ranked among the animal principles ; but as the above description of a particular class of desires, appears to oppose the sentiments we have advanced, it demands a few observations. We may first remark that the distinction made between appetites and desires is inaccurate, for the appetites are doubtless one class of desires ; nor is there a sensual appetite totally separate from the mental affections and desires ; if there were, the grossest appetites might be indulged without culpability. 2dly. The doctrine itself is very obscurely expressed. Does the doctor mean that one sensation is common to them all ? Then must the desire of power be similar to that of knowledge. If he means that desires are not uneasy sen- sations, and adduces those specified as proofs, we may ob- serve that they are here considered in their mildest state, and we are taught to imagine, from the description given of them, that this was their permanent character : whereas it is well known that the desire of Power is frequently as ram- pant as the strongest appetites, degenerating into insatiable ambition ; that the desire of Esteem may become so excessive as to stir up painful emulation, and still more painful envy ; and that the desire of Knowledge is frequently so restless as to induce the possessor to forego his ease, and encounter dangers and difficulties innumerable in order to gratify it. But although, in their mildest state, they may not equal the appetites, they are attended with a degree of uneasiness which impels to active endeavours after the desired objects. If no uneasy sensation accompanied either, there could be no motive to counteract the love of ease and indolence, so natural to man. The prospect of success may indeed inspire the pleasure of hope, and the benefits promised by each pursuit, may be so powerfully anticipated by the imagination, that the pleasing sensations, from these adventitious causes, PRECEDING TREATISE. 323 shall greatly preponderate; but if no uneasy sensation were excited, by the comparison of our actual situation with that we may possibly attain, our endeavours after the attainment could never have been excited. The Professor's subsequent observations perfectly cor- respond with these remarks. He says that " the pursuits " of Power, of Fame, and of Knowledge, require a self- " command no less than virtue does :" which is an acknow- ledgment that they are not always so pacific as was repre- sented.* And when he observes that " the desire of Esteem " and of Knowledge are highly useful to society, as well as " Power, and at the same time are less dangerous in their " excesses,11 he tacitly allows that they are not totally exempt. In support of another argument he asserts, that " innume- " rable instances occur in life, of men who sacrifice ease, " pleasure, and every thing else to the lust of power, of " fame, or even of knowledge." A demonstration this, that the sensations they sometimes excite, are not only uneasy but ungovernable. If by the expression, " there is not a sensation proper " to each," we are to understand that one particular sensa- tion is common to them all, the proposition is still moTe ex- " travagant. Our sensations, in every species of desire, are as different as the objects desired. Nor is there a greater difference between hunger and thirst, than there is between the desire of wealth, and the desire of power. The desire of knowledge is also distinct from, and superior to both. Note L. After " feelings of humanity." Page 92. Dr. Reid remarks, that "it seems to be false religion " alone, which is able to check the tear of compassion." * This expression is also inaccurate, since it is the province of virtue to correct these as well as every other desire, when they are in danger of becoming inordinate. 324 NOTES TO THE " We are told," he adds, " that in Portugal and Spain, a "man condemned to be burned as an obstinate heretic, " meets with no compassion even from the multitude ;" ob- serving that " they are taught to look upon him as the ene- " my of God, and doomed to hell-fire. But should not this "very circumstance move compassion? Surely it would if "they were not taught that, in this case, it is a crime to "shew compassion, or even to feel it." (See Essay on Active Powers, Page 156.) In addition to the motive assigned, we may mention the influence of custom, in rendering the heart insensible to the sufferings of these devoted objects. I was once passing through Moorfields with a young Lady aged about nine or ten years, born and educated in Portugal, but in the Pro- testant Faith, and observing a large concourse of people assembled round a pile of faggots on fire, I expressed a curiosity to know the cause. She very composedly answer- ed, I suppose that it is nothing more than that they are going to burn a Jew. Fortunately it was no other than roasting an ox, upon some joyful occasion. What rendered this sin- gularity the more striking, were the natural mildness and compassion of the young person's disposition. Another instance of the influence of perverted principles, occurs to my remembrance in the conduct of a pious Mother, towards a most excellent and dutiful Son ; who from a prin- ciple of conscience, in opposition to his interest, renounced the religious system in which he had been educated, for an- other, which he deemed more consonant to truth. She told him that " she found it her duty, however severe the struggle, " to alienate her affections from him, now he had rendered " himself an enemy to God, by embracing such erroneous " sentiments." My Friend added, that she was completely successful in these pious endeavours ; and that the duty she enjoined upon herself, was scrupulously performed during the remainder of her days. PRECEDING TREATISE. 325 Note M. After " past, present, and future." Page 94. It is singular, with what precision common language marks the difference between to wish and to desire, according to our power to obtain the object of our wishes, or our in- fluence over the means. Thus we never say to any one, I desire you to be well; but I wish you well; because, generally speaking, we have no influence over another's health ; but a sick man not only wishes but desires to be well, because he possesses the power of applying the means ; and if he rejects the means, we conclude that he does not desire to be well. If we are solicitous that some kind office should be performed by any one, we may either wish or desire, according to our claims upon his aid. As we may sometimes desire where we cannot command, thus we may wish, where it would be presumptuous to desire : and some- times we manifest our desires by expressing our wishes, from a principle of delicacy, leaving it to the party, from whom we expect the kind office, to increase the obligation by conforming to our wish, rather than complying with our desires. These distinctions being founded in nature, are common to every language. Note N. After " to impede our progress." Page 102. This seems to be the genuine sense of the substantive Hu- mility. But its verb, and participles, are not equally con- fined in their significations. They relate to states of debase- ment, in which the spirits are peculiarly depressed, and the mind deeply chagrined and mortified, but to which the terra 326 NOTES TO THE humility has never yet been applied. There are situations, in which persons may feel themselves very much humbled, and they may be exposed to many humiliating circumstances, without their being possessed of the disposition denoted by humility. Such expressions never relate to the prevailing habit of the mind, but to certain incidents which check pride, vanity, ambition, emulation; or deprive us of the reputation we had enjoyed. They all relate to some degree of eleva- tion, to which the mind had in vain aspired, and has felt mortified by the disappointment; or to some particular state from which the subject has fallen, and in consequence of which he suffers a degradation. He may thus be in a state of hutniliation, without being in a state of humility. This word refers alone to menial excellence, either intellectual or moral; concerning which, the subject himself entertains painful apprehensions, that he is or shall remain deficient. The adjective humble has the same signification. When we say of a person that he has an humble mind, we mean that he is modest, unassuming, diffident of himself. These dis- tinctions are very obvious, and though they may indicate the caprices of language, they are nevertheless highly important; for they serve to discriminate things which differ very es- sentially in their natures. The humble mind is neither mean nor abject, which may be the case with the proud, who by being detected in his baseness, or disappointed in his vain presumptuous hopes, may be humbled to the dust. To the man who is clothed with Humility, may possibly belong all those excellencies which Mr. Hume has ascribed to pride. He may in reality possess more merit than he dares to im- agine. The disposition is inspired by the contemplation of excellencies which he loves, and which he almost despairs to obtain. How different is this from the humiliation any one may suffer, from disappointed ambition, from a perception of in- voluntary blemishes, and accidental defects, from the mortifi- cation that self love may experience, by being defective in beauty, elegance, or wealth, or laden with corporeal infirmi- ties ! All of which Mr. Hume has arbitrarily chosen to com- PRECEDING TREATISE. 327 prehend under Humility. For example. " If beauty or de- " formity belong to our own face, shape, or person, this pleas- " ure or uneasiness is converted into pride or humility.—Pride " and humility have the qualities of our mind and body, that is, " of self, for their natural and more immediate causes—Bodily " pain and sickness are in themselves proper causes of humility. " Concerning all other bodily accomplishments, we may ob- " serve in general, that whatever in ourselves is either use- " ful, beautiful, or surprising, is an object of pride, and the " contrary of humility.11 Mr. Hume must have known that whimsical deviations from etymology, constitute an essential part of the idioms of a lan- guage ; which render it not only so difficult to be acquired, but occasion ludicrous effects in the attempt. Would he not have been the first to smile at the mistakes of a foreigner, who should suppose that all persons, labouring every day at their particular occupations, were equally Day-Labourers ? that to possess an elegant or lively fancy, was to be yevyfanciftd ?— that a man was insane, because he had ill health ?—and that ev- ery child of nature, was a natural child?—But are these blun- ders more inconsistent with the idioms of our language, which custom has universally established, than the assertion that bodily pain or sickness are in themselves proper causes of Humility ? or placing " the Epilepsy,1'' " the Itch,11 " the " Kings Evil," in the catalogue ? (See Dissertations on the passions, passim.) It is easy to collect, from the abovepassages and from the amiable character he has given of Pride, as remarked in a preceding note, that Mr. Hume, " delighted to exalt the proud, and give disgrace to the humble." Had it been his province to translate the Bible, how would he have rendered the following passages ? Every one proud in heart, is an abomination to the Lord. An high look and a proud heart is sin. He that is of aproud heart stirreth up strife. Pride was not made for man, &c. &c. £c. Before honour is humility. By humility and the fear of the Lord, are riches, honour, and life, Godgiveth grace to the hum lie, 4*c. fye. 4rc. 328 NOTES TO THE It is not intended by these quotations, to confute his no- tions by divine author ty; but by that of common phraseology. They indicate what were the ideas universally annexed to the terms Pride and Humility, at the period when this book was translated ; and these continue precisely the same every time such passages are read, either in public or pri- vate. To the universal usage of expressions every au- thor must conform, who means to be,intelligible. Nor is the misrepresentation of facts more injurious to the credit of an historian, than the perversion of language to that of a phi- losopher. The singularity of Mr. Hume in his definitions of both these words will appear still more assuming, when we con- sider that it opposes the phraseology, not only of the Eng- lish language, but of most, perhaps all, the European langua- ges, which always employ an appropriate word, to dis- tinguish that amiable consciousness, or apprehension of infe- riority in mental excellence, from other painful imperfec- tions ; and that word is perfectly synonymous to the expla- nation we have given of humility. Note O. After "dread of their arrival." Page 109. The Author once attended a prisoner of some distinction in one of the prisons of the metropolis, ill of a typhus fever ; whose apartments were gloomy in the extreme, and sur- rounded with horrors : yet this prisoner assured him after- wards, that, upon his release, he quitted them with a degree of reluctance. Custom had reconciled him to the twilight, admitted through the thick-barred grate, to the filthy spots and patches of his plastered walls, to the hardness of his bed, and even to confinement. He had his books, was visited by his friends, and was greatly amused and interested in the an- ecdotes of the place. PRECEDING TREATISE. 329 An Officer of the municipality at Leyden also informed the Author of an instance, which marks yet more strongly the force of habit. A poor woman who had lor some misde- meanour been sentenced to confinement for a certain num- ber of years, upon the expiration of the term, immediately applied to him for re-admission. She urged that all her worldly comforts were fled ; and her only wish was to be in- dulged in those imparted by habit. She moreover threaten- ed, that, if this could not be granted as a favour, she would commit some offence which might give her a title to be re- instated in the accustomed lodgings. Note P. After M may possibly follow." Page 109. As these distinctions may appear too refined to some of my Readers, it will be proper to shew that they actually exist ; and that there are situations, iu which a discrimination is both obvious and necessary. Take the following instances. When a young and inexperienced soldier is first ordered to march to battle, his legs will tremble under him, and the pre- saging colour of death will be in his face, notwithstanding his strongest resolutions, aided by the power of drums and trum- pets, and the apparent gaiety of his associates. These mark his Fear. Should he, during the engagement, meet with a single foe, and be provoked to single combat, from which he cannot possibly or honourably escape, the emotion of Terror, will subdue the listlessness of fear, and arouse every power of action. If the army to which he belongs should experi- ence a total defeat, the proviace, whose safety might depend upon its success, will be thrown into the utmost Consterna- tion ; because this commencement of evil may be productive of horrors, which the liveliest imagination cannot fully re- present : and it was the apprehension of a possible defeat, with its consequences, that had inspired their minds with Dread, long before the engagement took place. 42 330 NOTES TO THE These ideas are in themselves very distinct, and although some of the terms used to express them may be used indis- criminately, where nice precision is not so requisite, yet the arrangement given them evidently shews the place destined for each. Thus we may say that the young soldier dreads to go into battle, as he is marching forwards ; but strictly speak- ing, this dread may have been indulged immediately after he had enlisted, when the object of Fear was remote ; it will be increased into that passion as he approaches the enemy. Note Q, After '• though a degree of hope is still indulged." Page 110. The embarrassed and fluctuating state of the mind, under the influence of doubt, has seduced Mr. Hume into a singular hypothesis, which not only opposes the universal opinion of mankind, but confounds the future with the present and the past. Could he establish his hypothesis, it would follow that the mind is first oppressed with grief concerning a particular object, and then torn with fear and anxiety concerning its ar- rival ; for he makes grief to be the parent of fear, instead of considering the accomplishment of fearful apprehensions as a cause of grief. " Suppose," says he, " that the Object concerning which " we are doubtful, produces either desire or aversion ; it is " evident, that according as the mind turns itself to one side " or the other, it must feel a momentary impression of joy or " „r r v. An object, whose existence we desire, gives sa- " tisfaction, when we think of those causes which produce it; " and for the same reason, excites grief or uneasiness, from " the opposite consideration. So that as the understanding, " in probable questions, is divided between the contrary points " of view, the heart must in the same manner be divided be- " tween opposite emotions.—According as the probability in- " clines to good or evil, the passion of grief or joy predomi- PRECEDING TREATISE. 331 w nates in the composition ; and these passions being inter- " mingled, by means of the contrary views of the imagination, " produce by the union, the passions of hope and fear. Again: " The passions of fear and hope may arise, when the " chances are equal on both sides, and no superiority can be " discovered, in one above the other. Nay, in this situation " the passions are rather the strongest; as the mind has then " the least foundation to rest upon, and is tost with the great- " est uncertainty. Throw in a superior degree of probability " to the side of grief, you immediately see that passion diffuse " itself over the composition andtincttire it into fear. Increase " the probability, by that means the grief, the fear prevails " still more and more ; till at last it runs insensibly, as the " joy continually diminishes into pure grief. After you have " brought it to this situation, diminish the grief, by a contra- " ry operation to that which increased it, to wit, by diminish- " ing the probability on the melancholy side ; and you will " see the passion cheer every moment, till it changes insensi- " bly into hope ; which again runs by slow degrees into joy, " as you increase the part of the composition by the increase " of the probability." He adds, " Are not these as plain " proofs that the passions of fear and hope are mixtures of " grief and joy, as in optics it is a proof, that a coloured ray " of the sun, passing through a prism, is a composition of two " others, when, as you diminish or increase the quantity of " either, you find it prevail proportionably more or less in " the composition." (See Dissertation on the Passions, Sect. I.) The mistake which runs through the whole of this laboured argument, manifestly arises from Mr. Hume's not having suf- ficiently attended to the complication which exists in an un- certain and embarrassed state of mind. The object both of hope and fear must, according to his own hypothesis, be fu- ture, or problematical, otherwise no uncertainty concerning it could have place. It cannot, therefore, in itself be the cause either of grief or joy, but, as we usually express the particu- lar state of mind, of hope or fear. In the observation made by 332 NOTES TO THE Mr. Hume, that " an object whose existence we desire gives " satisfaction, whenever we think of those causes which produce " it" his own ideas are manifestly entangled in the inaccuracy of the statement. It cannot possibly be the object we desire that gives the satisfaction he mentions, for then the desire would be accomplished ; but it is thinking of those causes, which produce, or are calculated to produce it. Thus has he inadvertently ascribed an influence to the Object, primarily and solely, which ought to be ascribed simply to the state of our minds concerning it. The object itself, instead of giving this satisfaction, will remain the subject of our hopes and fears, as long as we rc-main in a state of uncertainty concern- ing it. When we advert to the probabilities of its existence, the mind may derive both hope and joy, from the predomi- nant influence of these probabilities upon us, and when im- probabilities gain an ascendant influence, ourfear will prevail, and this will be accompanied with a certain degree of grief at the disappointment of the hopes we had indulged. Thus by bring agitated by the " pro and con" of probabilities and im- probabilities, we feel a piecing expectation at one moment, and a painful reverse at another. Here are of consequence two temporary sensations, alternately excited respecting this desired object; but they are immediately excited by the de- tached evidences on the side of an happy or an unhappy issue. Without hope we should sink into the extreme of fear ; with- out fear, our joy would be complete: and when the grand result shall be known, these temporary sensations will cease, and the mind will be under the influence of unmixed joy or grief, according to the event. The joy and grief accompany- ing hope and fear, therefore, retain their own characteristic natures, without any transmutation having taken place. After we have indulged hopes, by contemplating' the promising side of the question, we are grieved and chagrined at the disap- pointment of these hopes, as often as improbabilities alarm our feavs. On the contrary, when probabilities appear strongly in favour of what we ardently desire, we rejoice that our hopes are encouraged. PRECEDING TREATISE. 333 Thus the passions of fear and hope are not mixtures of grief and joy, in the same manner as acoloured ray of the sun passing though a prism, is a composition of two others ; but they are all distinct passions, and have their own distinct caus- es of excitement. Hope and fear respect the grand issue ; grief and joy, the encouragements or discouragements which may alternately present themselves respecting it. Note R. After " our understandings cannot fully reach and comprehend." Page 149. From Mr. Grove it was natural to expect precision ; and, al- though this is manifest in most parts of his Treatise on the Passions, yet in his description of Admiration, he has not on- ly deviated from the best authorities, but also from himself. That admiration is not excited by novelty alone is plain, be- cause there are many novelties which no one can admire ; such as are indifferent, insipid, or displeasing. That it can- not be synonymous with surprise, is plain, because were we to tell any one that we were surprised at his excellencies, he would probably be surprised at our ill-manners. Nor is it the same with wonder ; for when a lover admires the charms of his mistress, it is a different sensation from that of wondering that she possesses them. But that the term Admiration, cannot be confined to the im- pressions which simple novelty is able to make, is obvious from the subsequent remarks of Mr. Grove, and the more pertinent phraseology employed in other parts of his works. He acknowledges that greatness or excellency, is the most gene- ral and most proper object of admiration. But neither of these are necessarily novel. He further observes, that "ad- « miration, according to the different character of its object is " called esteem or contempt." But his definition has confined our ideas to the simple character of novelty ; nor can admi- ration be applied to opposite characters, without a destruction 334 NOTES TO THE of the simplicity he ascribes to it ; and I may add without ex- citing a degree of surprise at the versatility of its nature. He has also remarked, that even littleness may excite admira- tion ; but be allows that the works of nature or art, which are of in unusual smallness,'are admired, not so much for their smallness, as for the greatness of the wisdom and skill con- spicuous in them. For " we can behold a particle of mere un- " diversified matter," says he, " though incomparably smaller, " without such wonder." In another passage, speaking of the advantages of sleep, he says, " we shall discern one reason " more to admire the wisdom of the Creator, in appointing so " gr^. at a portion of our time for sleep." Thus it appears that Mr. Grove feels the necessity of op- posing his own definition ; and also the peculiar propriety of applying the terra to indubitable marks of excellency. The extreme confusion and contrarieties, which run through the chapter from whence the above extracts are made, pro- ceed from his considering admiration as synonymous with surprise ; ard they fully indicate the great importance of affixing distinct ideas to each expression. Every author admits that the terras to admire, admiration, admirable, may always be applied to some kind of excellency, without the shadow of an impropriety ; and the above observations man- ifest that they cannot, at all times, be used synonymously with either surprise or wonder. This circumstance fully indi- cates their proper place in the accurate arrangement of our ideas. Note S. After " or which has a preponderancy of excellence." Page 219. To enter deeply into this delicate subject, would not be con- sistent with my plan, but the following queries are proposed to those who are more disposed. Since the Female Sex com- plain with apparent anguish of heart, that men have taken PRECEDING TREATISE. .335 the lead in directing the wheels of government, in the estab- lishment of the arts, and prosecution of the sciences, by uwr- palion, how came they to be such general, and exten- sive usurpers, without possessing a superiority of correspond- ent qualifications ?—Can any other example be produced of predilections being rendered so universal and so permanent, by circumstances merely incidental?—Again, excepting we have recourse to the constitution of nature, who can explain the reason why each sex should regard the qualities in the opposite sex, most similar to its own, with such marks of dis- gust or contempt ; and delight in qualities directly opposite ? This is contrary to all the laws of the social affections in every other instance ; for similarity of dispositions and manners is considered, in every other case, as the foundation of love, and the cement of affection and friendship. May we not safely assert that there is, generally [speaking, an original diversity in tastes and dispositions liable however to some exceptions ? If this be admitted, a correspondent di- versity of pursuits will naturally follow. We may also sub- join that these tastes and dispositions are in most instances, remarkably correspondent with the corporeal powers of ob- taining or accomplishing their objects. Note T. After " by a cautious manner of communicating the tidings." Page 271. Historians present us with many instances of fatal effects, from the excess of joy ; but it plainly appears from their nar- ratives, that the subjects were, at the instant preceding, un- der the pressure of extreme anguish of mind. Pliny informs us that Chilo, the Lacedemonian, died upon hearing that his son had gained a prize in the Olympic Games. " Cum victore filio Olympian expirasset gaudio." We may consider the excess of joy in this case, as an indication of his previous solicitude concerning the issue. (Plin. Maj. 336 NOTES TO THE Lib. vii. Sect. 7.) But the following instances are more ex- press. Valerius Maximus tells us that Sophocles the tragic writer, in a contest of honour, died in consequence of a decision be- ing pronounced in his favour. " Sophocles ultima? jam senec- " tutis, cum in certamine tragaediam dixisset, ancipiti senten- " tiarum ev