Читать книгу Elements of Criticism (Vol. 1-3) - Lord Henry Home Kames - Страница 9
SECT. I.
ОглавлениеDifference betwixt emotion and passion.——Causes that are the most common and the most extensive.——Passion considered as productive of action.
THese branches are so interwoven, as to make it necessary that they be handled together. It is a fact universally admitted, that no emotion nor passion ever starts up in the mind, without a known cause. If I love a person, it is for good qualities or good offices: if I have resentment against a man, it must be for some injury he has done me; and I cannot pity any one, who is under no distress of body or of mind.
The circumstances now mentioned, if they cause or occasion a passion, cannot be entirely indifferent: if they were, they could not move us in any degree. And we find upon examination, that they are not indifferent. Looking back upon the foregoing examples, the good qualities or good offices that attract my love, are antecedently agreeable. If an injury were not disagreeable, it would not occasion any resentment against the author; nor would the passion of pity be raised by an object in distress, if that object did not give us pain. These feelings antecedent to passion, and which seem to be the causes of passion, shall be distinguished by the name of emotions.
What is now said about the production of passion, resolves into a very simple proposition, That we love what is pleasant, and hate what is painful. And indeed it is evident, that without antecedent emotions we could not have any passions; for a thing must be pleasant or painful, before it can be the object either of love or of hatred.
As it appears from this short sketch, that passions are generated by means of prior emotions, it will be necessary to take first under consideration emotions and their causes.
Such is the constitution of our nature, that upon perceiving certain external objects, we are instantaneously conscious of pleasure or pain. A flowing river, a smooth extended plain, a spreading oak, a towering hill, are objects of sight that raise pleasant emotions. A barren heath, a dirty marsh, a rotten carcass, raise painful emotions. Of the emotions thus produced, we inquire for no other cause but merely the presence of the object.
It must further be observed, that the things now mentioned, raise emotions by means of their properties and qualities. To the emotion raised by a large river, its size, its force, and its fluency, contribute each a share. The pleasures of regularity, propriety, convenience, compose the emotion raised by a fine building.
If external properties make a being or thing agreeable, we have reason to expect the same effect from those which are internal; and accordingly power, discernment, wit, mildness, sympathy, courage, benevolence, render the possessor agreeable in a high degree. So soon as these qualities are perceived in any person, we instantaneously feel pleasant emotions, without the slightest act of reflection or of attention to consequences. It is almost unnecessary to add, that certain qualities opposite to the former, such as dullness, peevishness, inhumanity, cowardice, occasion in the same manner painful emotions.
Sensible beings affect us remarkably by their actions. Some actions so soon as perceived, raise pleasant emotions in the spectator, without the least reflection; such as graceful motion and genteel behaviour. But as the intention of the agent is a capital circumstance in the bulk of human actions, it requires reflection to discover their true character. If I see one delivering a purse of money to another, I can make nothing of this action, till I discover with what intention the money is given. If it be given to extinguish a debt, the action is agreeable in a slight degree. If it be a grateful return, I feel a stronger emotion; and the pleasurable emotion rises to a great height when it is the intention of the giver to relieve a virtuous family from want. Actions are thus qualified by the intention of the agent. But they are not qualified by the event; for an action well intended is agreeable, whatever be the consequence. The pleasant or painful emotion that ariseth from contemplating human actions, is of a peculiar kind. Human actions are perceived to be right or wrong; and this perception qualifies the pleasure or pain that results from them[16].
Not only are emotions raised in us by the qualities and actions of others, but also by their feelings. I cannot behold a man in distress, without partaking of his pain; nor in joy, without partaking of his pleasure.
The beings or things above described, occasion emotions in us, not only in the original survey, but when they are recalled to the memory in idea. A field laid out with taste, is pleasant in the recollection, as well as when under our eye. A generous action described in words or colours, occasions a sensible emotion, as well as when we see it performed. And when we reflect upon the distress of any person, our pain is of the same kind with what we felt when eye-witnesses. In a word, an agreeable or disagreeable object recalled to the mind in idea, is the occasion of a pleasant or painful emotion, of the same kind with that produced when the object was present. The only difference is, that an idea being fainter than an original perception, the pleasure or pain produced by the former, is proportionably fainter than that produced by the latter.
Having explained the nature of an emotion and mentioned several causes by which it is produced, we proceed to an observation of considerable importance in the science of human nature, that some emotions are accompanied with desire, and that others, after a short existence, pass away without producing desire of any sort. The emotion raised by a fine landscape or a magnificent building, vanisheth generally without attaching our hearts to the object; which also happens with relation to a number of fine faces in a crowded assembly. But the bulk of emotions are accompanied with desire of one sort or other, provided only a fit object for desire be suggested. This is remarkably the case of emotions raised by human actions and qualities. A virtuous action raiseth in every spectator a pleasant emotion, which is generally attended with a desire to do good to the author of the action. A vicious action, on the other hand, produceth a painful emotion; and of consequence a desire to have the author punished. Even things inanimate often raise desire. The goods of fortune are objects of desire almost universally; and the desire, when more than commonly vigorous, obtains the name of avarice. The pleasant emotion produced in a spectator by a capital picture in the possession of a prince, seldom raiseth desire. But if such a picture be exposed to sale, desire of having or possessing is the natural consequence of the emotion.
If now an emotion be sometimes productive of desire, somtimes not, it comes to be a material inquiry, in what respect a passion differs from an emotion. Is passion in its nature or feeling distinguishable from emotion? I have been apt to think that there must be a distinction, when the emotion seems in all cases to precede the passion, and to be the cause or occasion of it. But after the strictest examination, I cannot perceive any such distinction betwixt emotion and passion. What is love to a mistress, for example, but a pleasant emotion raised by a sight or idea of the person beloved, joined with desire of enjoyment? In what else consists the passion of resentment, but in a painful emotion occasioned by the injury, accompanied with desire to chastise the author of the injury? In general, as to every sort of passion, we find no more in the composition, but the particulars now mentioned, an emotion pleasant or painful accompanied with desire. What then shall we say upon this subject? Are passion and emotion synonymous terms? This cannot be averred. No feeling nor agitation of the mind void of desire, is termed a passion; and we have discovered that there are many emotions which pass away without raising desire of any kind. How is the difficulty to be solved? There appears to me but one solution, which I relish the more, as it renders the doctrine of the passions and emotions simple and perspicuous. The solution follows. An internal motion or agitation of the mind, when it passeth away without raising desire, is denominated an emotion: when desire is raised, the motion or agitation is denominated a passion. A fine face, for example, raiseth in me a pleasant feeling. If this feeling vanish without producing any effect, it is in proper language an emotion. But if such feeling, by reiterated views of the object, become sufficiently strong to raise desire, it is no longer termed an emotion, but a passion. The same holds in all the other passions. The painful feeling raised in a spectator by a slight injury done to a stranger, being accompanied with no desire of revenge, is termed an emotion. But this injury raiseth in the stranger a stronger emotion, which being accompanied with desire of revenge, is a passion. Again, external expressions of distress, produce in the spectator a painful feeling. This feeling is sometimes so slight as to pass away without any effect, in which case it is an emotion. But if the feeling be so strong as to prompt desire of affording relief, it is a passion, and is termed pity. Envy is emulation in excess. If the exaltation of a competitor be barely disagreeable, the painful feeling is reckoned an emotion. If it produce desire to depress him, it is reckoned a passion.
To prevent mistakes, it must be observed, that desire here is taken in its proper sense, viz. that internal impulse which makes us 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 a desire.
Having distinguished passion from emotion, we proceed to consider passion more at large, with respect especially to its power of producing action.
We have daily and constant experience for our authority, that no man ever proceeds to action but through the impulse of some antecedent desire. So well established is this observation, and so deeply rooted in the mind, that we can scarce imagine a different system of action. Even a child will say familiarly, What should make me do this or that when I have no inclination to it? Taking it then for granted, that the existence of action depends on antecedent desire; it follows, that where there is no desire there can be no action. This opens another shining distinction betwixt emotions and passions. The former, being without desire, are in their nature quiescent: the latter, involving desire, have a tendency to action, and always produce action where they meet with no obstruction.
Hence it follows, that every passion must have an object, viz. that being or thing to which our desire is directed, and with a view to which every action prompted by that desire is performed. The object of every passion is that being or thing which produced it. This will be evident from induction. A fine woman, by her beauty, causes in me the passion of love, which is directed upon her as its object. A man by injuring me, raises my resentment; and becomes thereby the object of my resentment. Thus the cause of a passion, and its object, are the same in different views. An emotion, on the other hand, being in its nature quiescent and merely a passive feeling, must have a cause; but cannot be said properly speaking to have an object.
As the desire involved in every passion leads to action, this action is either ultimate, or it is done as a means to some end. Where the action is ultimate, reason and reflection bear no part. The action is performed blindly by the impulse of passion, without any view. Thus one in extreme hunger snatches at food, without the slightest reflection whether it be salutary or not: Avarice prompts to accumulate wealth without the least view of use; and thereby absurdly converts means into an end: Fear often makes us fly before we reflect whether we really be in danger: and animal love not less often hurries to fruition, without a single thought of gratification. But for the most part, actions are performed as means to some end; and in these actions reason and reflection always bear a part. The end is that event which is desired; and the action is deliberately performed in order to bring about that end. Thus affection to my friend involves a desire to make him happy; and the desire to accomplish that end, prompts me to perform what I judge will contribute to it.
Where the action is ultimate, it hath a cause, viz. the impulse of the passion. But we cannot properly say it hath a motive. This term is appropriated to actions that are performed as means to some end; and the conviction that the action will tend to bring about the end desired, is termed a motive. Thus passions considered as causes of action, are distinguished into two kinds; instinctive, and deliberative. The first operating blindly and by mere impulse, depend entirely upon the sensitive part of our nature. The other operating by reflection and by motives, are connected with the rational part.
The foregoing difference among the passions, is the work of nature. Experience brings on some variations. By all actions performed through the impulse of passion, desire is gratified, and the gratification is pleasant. This lesson we have from experience. And hence it is, that after an action has often been performed by the impulse merely of passion, the pleasure resulting from performance, considered beforehand, becomes a motive, which joins its force with the original impulse in determining us to act. Thus a child eats by the mere impulse of hunger: a young man thinks of the pleasure of gratification, which is a motive for him to eat: and a man farther advanced in life, hath the additional motive that it will contribute to his health.
Instinctive passions are distinguished into two kinds. Where the cause is internal, they are denominated appetites: where external, they retain the common name of passions. Thus hunger, thirst, animal love, are termed appetites; while fear and anger, even when they operate blindly and by mere impulse, are termed passions.
From the definition of a motive above given, it is easy to determine, with the greatest accuracy, what passions are selfish, what social. No passion can properly be termed selfish, but what prompts me to exert actions in order for my own good; nor social, but what prompts me to exert actions in order for the good of another. The motive is that which determines a passion to be social or selfish. Hence it follows, that our appetites, which make us act blindly and by mere impulse, cannot be reckoned either social or selfish; and as little the actions they produce. Thus eating, when prompted by an impulse merely of nature, is neither social nor selfish. But add a motive, That it will contribute to my pleasure or my health, and it becomes in a measure selfish. On the other hand, when affection moves me to exert actions to the end solely of advancing my friend’s happiness, without the slightest regard to my own gratification, such actions are justly denominated social; and so is the affection, that is their cause. If another motive be added, That gratifying the affection will contribute to my own happiness, the actions I perform become partly selfish. Animal love when exerted into action by natural impulse singly, is neither social nor selfish: when exerted with a view to gratification and in order to make me happy, it is selfish. When the motive of giving pleasure to its object is superadded, it is partly social, partly selfish. A just action when prompted by the love of justice solely, is neither social nor selfish. When I perform an act of justice with a view to the pleasure of gratification, the action is selfish. I pay my debt for my own sake, not with a view to benefit my creditor. But let me suppose the money has been advanced by a friend without interest, purely to oblige me. In this case, together with the inclination to do justice, there arises a motive of gratitude, which respects the creditor solely, and prompts me to act in order to do him good. Here the action is partly social, partly selfish. Suppose again I meet with a surprising and unexpected act of generosity, that inspires me with love to my benefactor and the utmost gratitude. I burn to do him good: he is the sole object of my desire; and my own pleasure in gratifying the desire, vanisheth out of sight. In this case, the action I perform is purely social. Thus it happens, that when a social motive becomes strong, the action is exerted with a view singly to the object of the passion; and the selfish pleasure arising from gratification is never once considered. The same effect of stifling selfish motives, is equally remarkable in other passions that are in no view social. Ambition, for example, when confined to exaltation as its ultimate end, is neither social nor selfish. Let exaltation be considered as a means to make me happy, and the passion becomes so far selfish. But if the desire of exaltation wax strong and inflame my mind, the selfish motive now mentioned is no longer felt. A slight degree of resentment, where my chief view in acting is the pleasure arising to myself from gratifying the passion, is justly denominated selfish. Where revenge flames so high as to have no other aim but the destruction of its object, it is no longer selfish. In opposition to a social passion, it maybe termed dissocial[17].
Of self, every one hath a direct perception: of other things, we have no knowledge but by means of their attributes. Hence it is, that of self, the perception is more lively than of any other thing. Self is an agreeable object; and, for the reason now given, must be more agreeable than any other object. Is not this sufficient to account for the prevalence of self-love?
In the foregoing part of this chapter, it is suggested, that some circumstances make beings or things fit objects for desire, others not. This hint must be pursued. It is a truth ascertained by universal experience, that a thing which in our apprehension is beyond reach, never is the object of desire. No man, in his right senses, desires to walk in the air, or to descend to the centre of the earth. We may amuse ourselves in a reverie, with building castles in the air, and wishing for what can never happen. But such things never move desire. And indeed a desire to act would be altogether absurd, when we are conscious that the action is beyond our power. In the next place, though the difficulty of attainment with respect to things within reach, often inflames desire; yet where the prospect of attainment is faint and the event extremely uncertain, the object, however agreeable, seldom raiseth any strong desire. Thus beauty or other good qualities in a woman of rank, seldom raises love in any man greatly her inferior. In the third place, different objects, equally within reach, raise emotions in different degrees; and when desire accompanies any of these emotions, its strength, as is natural, is proportioned to that of its cause. Hence the remarkable difference among desires directed upon beings inanimate, animate, and rational. The emotion caused by a rational being, is out of measure stronger than any caused by an animal without reason; and an emotion raised by such an animal, is stronger than what is caused by any thing inanimate. There is a separate reason why desire of which a rational being is the object should be the strongest. Desire directed upon such a being, is gratified many ways, by loving, serving, benefiting, the object; and it is a well known truth, that our desires naturally swell by exercise. Desire directed upon an inanimate being, susceptible neither of pleasure nor pain, is not capable of a higher gratification than that of acquiring the property. Hence it is, that though every feeling which raiseth desire, is strictly speaking a passion; yet commonly those feelings only are denominated passions of which sensible beings capable of pleasure and pain are the objects.