THE EMOTIONS
The discussion of complex emotional states on which we enter in the
present chapter will be subject to the same reservation as was our
previous discussion of simple sensation-feeling. It is not proposed
to attempt a definitive explanation of the _nature_ of emotion,
nor even to criticise the various emotion-theories which have been
advanced in psychological literature. For the purposes of an æsthetic
investigation we are only concerned with the external aspects, the
outward manifestations, of mental states. We need not therefore dilate
upon the controversies as to the exact relation between simple feeling
and emotion. It is enough for us that all authors—those who consider
pain and pleasure as elements _sui generis_ as well as those who count
them among sensations or emotions—agree in emphasising the prominent
hedonic element which enters into all our emotions. Starting from this
universally recognised fact, we shall try to explain the impulse to
expression, as it appears in complex emotions, by the same laws which
we deduced from an examination of simple hedonic states.
The legitimacy of such a course will scarcely be contested by any one
who admits the vital and necessary connection between emotional states
and movement-sensations. And in point of fact, this connection does
not seem to be denied by many modern psychologists. There is indeed
much controversy as to the best mode of formulating the well-known
theory due to James and Lange, and there is also much to discuss in
its general theoretic aspect. But the observation on which this theory
was based by James, viz. that it is impossible for us to imagine any
emotion which is not connected with feelings of bodily symptoms, seems
nowadays to be pretty safe against attack. Before and after James,
the fundamental importance of bodily changes has been acknowledged by
almost all authors who have specially studied the emotional states. We
need only refer to Bain, Ribot, Féré, Paulhan, and Godfernaux.[59] Even
Professor Stout, who on general grounds takes exception to the views
of James, leaves unassailed the thesis from which the latter starts in
his chapter on the emotions.[60] And it is even somewhat superfluous to
adduce all these authorities in support of a fact which must have been
noted by every one who pays any attention to his own mental states. We
never experience any intense emotion, such as fear, anger, or sorrow,
without at the same time experiencing some distinct sensation of
change in our functions of respiration and circulation, as well as in
the activities of our voluntary muscles. In the case of emotions of
slight intensity, where no changes of this character are perceptible,
we are justified in assuming that they do nevertheless occur, only on
a much smaller scale, and possibly in different organs. The clinical
and experimental researches of medical science, as well as experiments
undertaken in psychological laboratories, tend to prove that all ideas,
even of the most abstract kind, are accompanied by modifications of
organic activity, similar to, but weaker than, those which accompany
the simple sensations. It is only natural, therefore, to conclude that
the feeling-element in emotions and sentiments, as well as in simple
pain and pleasure, is correlated with the quality—stimulating or
inhibitive—and intensity of these modifications. All hedonic states,
whether called forth directly by a simple physiological stimulus, or
indirectly by the mediation of perceptions, memories, and ideas, can
thus, in so far as they are feelings, be considered as essentially
alike. The complete emotion, such as joy or anger, with all its
elements of thought and conscious or unconscious volition, is of course
something quite different from the simple feeling-tone of mere pleasure
or pain. Physiological psychology does not, as its opponents maintain,
assimilate gratifications of the sense of taste to æsthetic enjoyment
or religious exaltation. We allow _rank_ to a sentiment in virtue
of the mental conceptions by which it is justified in the breast of
the person who feels it. But the _strength_ of such a sentiment, _as
feeling_, we deem to be proportioned to the organic changes by which
enthusiasm and devotion, just as much as sensual pleasure, are always
accompanied. We do not assert that these organic changes are always
identical in kind. In the simplest forms of hedonic sensation—sensation
proper—they have their main equivalent in changes of the vegetative
functions; in the emotions they are accompanied by movements of our
voluntary muscles; and in the sentiments they may correspond to an
activity which takes place chiefly in the organ of thought. And from
these differences arise other important differences in duration as well
as in intensity of the pleasure-pain. But all these various limitations
cannot modify the essential fact, which is, that pleasure is always
connected with an enhancement, and pain with a depression, of the vital
functions.
For a satisfactory explanation of our emotions it would no doubt be
desirable to have all the complicated physiological concomitants
reduced to simple terms of functional enhancement and functional
arrest. Such a reduction can, however, be undertaken only in a few
favourable cases. We can easily see, for instance, that in pride and
humiliation a series of perceptions and ideas have brought about
conditions of facilitated and checked activity similar to those which,
in sensational pleasure-pain, are created by simple physiological
stimuli.[61] We may also agree with Lehmann when he endeavours to
prove that the pain a child experiences when its mother leaves its
bedside can be reduced to a sensation of arrested activity.[62] And
we may in the same way explain our own feelings after losses which,
from our point of view, are more serious, as largely due to the fact
that an occasion of activity for our senses, thoughts, or bodily
powers has been suddenly withdrawn. But it would be too laborious to
enter upon such an analysis of all our compound emotions, and it is
also superfluous. Even when the organic conditions of pleasure and
pain cannot be detected among the intricate mass of intellectual and
volitional elements which make up what we can observe of an emotion,
we must still, from analogy, conclude that some kind of functional
enhancement or arrest corresponds to the feeling-tone.
Seeing, then, that what we may call “pure feeling” remains the same
in all possible combinations, we must expect to meet with the same
phenomena in connection with the manifestations of the higher emotions
and sentiments, as those already described in case of simple pain or
pleasure. It is true that in fully formed anger, joy, contempt, and
so on, the tendency to expression for expression’s sake—as when a
child laughs or dances for mere joy—is seldom found pure and unmixed.
But even in such complex states we may in the abstract distinguish
the impulse directly and inherently connected with the physiological
change—the impulse which tends _automatically_ to bring out the tone of
pleasure with more prominence or to relieve the tone of pain—from all
the conscious and volitional activities by which the external cause of
the feeling is either approached or avoided. We have only to remember
that, as was the case with sensation-feelings, those intentional
movements which are directly or by virtue of association connected
with an emotion will always work in the same direction as the purely
automatic expression.
With regard to anger, for instance, we can in theory, at all events,
distinguish the activity which follows as a purely physiological
reaction upon the initial inhibition, and which therefore is quite
undirected by any idea of attacking an enemy, from the conscious
reaction by which we strive with all our powers to overcome and
annihilate a real or imaginary foe. But we know that both these
kinds of expression produce similar mental effects. Whether we
concentrate our attention on the element of pure feeling and its
accompanying activities, or on the intermixture of intellectual
and volitional elements by which the emotion is distinguished from
simple pleasure-pain, we shall thus find that active manifestations
always enhance the positive tone of feeling, which is in itself the
counterpart of a functional enhancement, and relieve the negative tone,
which is the counterpart of functional arrest.
To prove this assertion with regard to all the different emotions
would mean an unnecessary repetition of the arguments adduced in the
preceding chapter. We need therefore only dwell on a few individual
cases in which the effects of expression, owing to the complex nature
of all fully developed emotions, are subject to misinterpretation. It
has, for instance, often been contended in psychological literature
that pleasurable emotions lose in strength in the same degree as
they are expressed. Mr. Spencer, who finds the physiological basis
of all emotion in nervous tension, has tried to prove that joy is
always strongest when most restrained. But the argument he adduces is
by no means unimpeachable. He says that people who show the finest
appreciation of humour are often capable of saying and doing the most
laughable things with the utmost gravity.[63] In this instance joy
has, however, been confounded with the sense of the comic, which is of
course a purely intellectual gift, and which does not even presuppose
a cheerful disposition. The less the expenditure of nervous force on
outward activity, the greater is the efficiency with which the work of
thought can be carried on.[64] There is thus a physiological reason
why he who laughs least utters the best jokes. But all the fools whose
mouths overflow with laughter (_risus abundat in ore stultorum_) may
no doubt often be happier than the most talented humourist. No sane man
would say that Swift was happy.
It is, however, undeniable that even joy gradually decreases if it
is allowed an unimpeded outlet. But that is often a result of bodily
fatigue, which makes thought as well as feeling impossible. Pleasure
may also increase _qua_ feeling, if its most outward manifestations
are controlled. But hereby the activity has only, as Spencer himself
remarks, been directed into new channels.[65] The motor impulses
reflect themselves inwards and accumulate when their outlet is stopped.
From bodily movements, which are its simplest and most natural
expression, joy may thus be diverted into the region of thought. When
a savage has attained so high a state of development as to be able to
control the impulse to dance and yell for joy, the first dithyramb has
been composed.
It is impossible for us to estimate the relative importance of internal
and external activity. All we can say is that a joy, the outward
expressions of which are controlled, probably gains in durability. But
on the other hand it is possible that a joy which has been allowed a
free discharge, in the very moment of expression is stronger _qua_
feeling. If the motor impulses find no outlet in any direction, the
emotional state will, as has already been pointed out, become more and
more affected with elements of pain.
When the physiological counterpart of an emotion takes the form of
an inhibition, the feeling-tone will of course gain in intensity in
the same degree as wider and wider areas of activity come under the
influence of the arrest. This law can also be observed in the course
of development of all pain-emotions. Sorrow, despair, humiliation, and
so on, are relatively mild as long as the inhibition is restricted to
the voluntary muscles. They acquire their full and proper strength
as feeling only when the involuntary activities take part in the
functional disturbance. And we can often notice in ourselves how, in
the same degree as a painful emotion increases, the inhibition cuts
its way deeper and deeper into the organism.[66] Humiliation, which of
all emotions is the most hopelessly and irredeemably painful, is in
its higher degrees always accompanied by functional changes which make
themselves felt even in our digestive organs. Literature, to which in
questions of emotional psychology we must apply for the information
which no experiment can supply, proves that it is hard to swallow. It
has a bitter taste, and is sickening even in purely physical sense.[67]
The greatest grief, on the other hand, that man has been able to
imagine manifests itself physiologically as a complete internal as well
as external paralysis, such as is suggested by the Greek myth of the
sorrowing mother turned into stone.
The progress of functional inhibition from organ to organ and the
accompanying increase of the pain-emotion does of course generally
take place without the co-operation of volition. But the increase
of an incipient pain-sentiment can also be facilitated by voluntary
efforts. As Professor James remarks, we may effectively strengthen a
mood of sadness if we only consistently arrest the activity of all
the organs which are under the control of our will.[68] And it is
well known that much is possible in the way of working up feelings
of melancholy. It may seem somewhat strange that the cultivation of
such painful states has attained so high a development in man. But
the apparent paradox is solved if we direct our attention to the
secondary tones of pleasure which can always be derived from artificial
moods of suffering. Sentimental reflection is able to extract from
them a peculiar satisfaction which is highly appreciated by certain
temperaments. We need only refer to the literature of romanticism,
which gives us most instructive instances of pride in sensibility.
Another kind of enjoyment is attained when persons who consider
themselves unfairly treated by cruel fortune deliberately feed upon
their own sufferings. As Spencer has shrewdly pointed out, they will
infallibly derive a pleasurable sensation of their own value when
contrasting their fate with the happiness which they consider their
due.[69] Melancholy people, on the other hand, may perhaps be inclined
to make themselves as helpless and unfortunate as possible for the
sake of experiencing both sides of that “love of the helpless”[70]
which, according to Spencer, is the most primordial form of altruistic
feeling. The expressions and pantomimes of sadness often strike us as
a kind of self-caressing in which the sufferer, by division of his own
personality, enjoys the double pleasure of giving and receiving.
According to the most consistent terminology, this tendency to
enhance feeling by voluntary co-operation with functional inhibition
ought perhaps to be considered as the characteristic expression of
painful emotion. It is, however, as has already been pointed out in
our treatment of sensation-feeling, more in conformity with ordinary
usage—and also with etymology—to apply the word expression to those
active, outward manifestations by which the inhibition is relieved.
There can be no inconvenience in doing so if we only keep constantly
in mind the distinction between the expression which enhances and the
expression which relieves. As long as these two notions are confounded,
a consistent explanation of emotional states is quite impossible. The
contradictions in Professor James’ brilliant chapter on the emotions
furnish us with a ready proof of this impossibility. If he had based
his theory upon a close discrimination of either class of expression,
as they can be distinguished in simple sensational feeling, he would
probably not have contended that sorrow is increased by sobbing,[71]
while admitting in another passage that “dry and shrunken sorrow” is
more painful than any “crying fit.”[72]
It is, however, impossible to deny that sighing, sobbing, twisting
the hands, and other active manifestations are often effectively
used, by actors, for example, as means for working up despair or
sorrows.[73] But it seems to us indubitable that these movements when
they succeed in creating the real feeling do so by help of association.
A pain-emotion which has been called into existence by such dramatic
mechanism is therefore seldom quite genuine. Real sorrow, hate, or
anger, as pain-feelings, are on their physiological side much more
deeply seated than these surface expressions, which, properly speaking,
are merely a reproduction of the usual reactions upon the primary
feeling. They are therefore not to be easily stirred up by aid of
mimetic action.
It may perhaps be contended that these remarks apply only to
the artificial creation of pain-emotion. When under the sway of
veritable sorrow we undoubtedly feel as if the mental state were
really intensified during its expression by the direct influence of
the muscular activities, which constitute the sighing, sobbing, or
crying. As far as the compound emotion is concerned, this observation
is unquestionably correct. Sorrow, with all its intellectual and
volitional elements, may become more distinct for consciousness the
more it is actively expressed. But the pain itself, which constitutes
the primary and initial state of this emotion, has by no means been
increased. On the contrary, a crying fit, for instance, as even
Professor James admits, may be accompanied by a kind of excitement
which has a peculiar tone of pungent pleasure.[74]
The same process can be observed in the course of all the so-called
pain-emotions. During active expression, while the general mental state
increases in definiteness, the purely “algedonic” element of pain is
gradually weakened or changed. Anger, which begins with an inhibition
and a vascular contraction, to which,[75] on the mental side,
corresponds a feeling of intense pain, is thus in its active stage a
decidedly pleasurable emotion.[76] Fear, which in its initial stage is
paralysing and depressing, often changes in tone when the first shock
has been relieved by motor reaction.[77] And to some extent the same
may be said even of despair. In every pain-emotion where there is a
development of active energy involved in the reaction upon the initial
feeling, the tone of this feeling is apt to undergo some change owing
to the influence of this activity.
This circumstance explains why expression for expression’s sake as a
life-preserving principle occupies so important a place in the life
of man. But it also accounts for another phenomenon which, although
not directly connected with the expressional impulse, is æsthetically
so important that it cannot properly be passed over in this work. We
refer to the apparent paradox that anger, fear, sorrow, notwithstanding
their distinctly painful initial stage, are often not only not avoided,
but even deliberately sought. Taken in connection with those perhaps
even more curious cases, in which sensation-feelings of pain are
intentionally provoked, this apparent inversion of the normal course
constitutes one of the most important problems in emotional psychology.
The question of such “luxuries of grief,” or, to use a more appropriate
German phrase, “Die Wonne des Leids,” is, however, so complicated that
its treatment will require a chapter to itself.