One day, at a time when I was writing a treatise on the subject of
the human passions--which treatise was afterwards published among my
Miscellaneous Works--I went to him to be enlightened upon several points.
After having answered my questions, and satisfied my mind, he asked me:
"And what will you say about the affections?" I must confess that this
question surprised me, for though I am quite aware of the distinction
between the reasonable and the sensitive appetite, I had no idea that there
was such a difference between the passions and the affections, as he told
me existed. I imagined that when the passions were governed by reason, they
were called affections, but he explained to me that this was not so at
all. He said that our sensitive appetite was divided into two parts: the
concupiscent and the irascible....
The reasonable appetite is also divided, like the sensitive, into the
concupiscent and the irascible, but it makes use of the mind as its
instrument.
The sensitive concupiscent appetite is again subdivided into six passions:
1, love; 2, hate; 3, desire; 4, aversion; 5, joy; 6, sadness. The irascible
comprises five passions: 1, anger; 2, hope; 3, despair; 4, fear; 5,
courage.
The reasonable appetite, which is the will, has just as many affections,
and they bear the same names. There is, however, this difference between
the passions and the affections. We possess the passions in common with
the irrational brute creation, which, as we see, is moved by love,
hate, desire, aversion, joy, sadness, anger, hope, despair, fear, and
fearlessness, but without the faculty of reason to guide and regulate the
impulse of the senses.
The carnal man, that is to say, he who allows himself to be carried away
by the impetuosity of his feelings, is, says the Psalmist: _compared to
senseless beasts and is become like to them_.[1]
He, however who makes use of his reason, directs his affections uprightly
and well, employing them in the service of the reasonable appetite, only in
as far as they are guided by the light and teaching of natural reason. As
this, however, is faulty and liable to deceptions and illusions, mistakes
are often made which are called by philosophers disorders of mind.
But when the regenerate, that is to say, the Christian who possesses both
grace and charity, makes use of the passions of his sensitive appetite,
as well as of the affections of his reason, for the glory of God, and for
the love of Him alone, this does not happen. Then he loves what he ought
to love, he hates what he ought to hate, he desires what God wills that
he should desire, he flies from what displeases God, he is saddened by
offences done against God, he rejoices and takes delight in the things
which are pleasing to God. Then his zeal fills him with anger and
indignation against all that detracts from the honour due to God; he hopes
in God and not in the creature, he fears nothing save to offend God, he is
fearless in God's service. Thus, the Psalmist, a man after God's own heart,
was able to say that his flesh, that is, the passions seated in his senses,
and his heart, namely, the affections rooted in his mind, _rejoiced in the
living God_.[2]
The winds, which, as some of the ancients held, come forth from the caverns
and hollows of the earth, produce two very different effects upon the sea.
Without winds we cannot sail, and yet through them tempests and shipwrecks
happen. The passions and affections shut up in the two caverns of the
concupiscent and the irascible appetite are so many inward impulses which
urge us on to evil if they are rebellious, disorderly, and irregular, but
if directed by reason and charity, lead us into the haven of rest, the port
of life eternal.
This is what our Blessed Father taught me, and if you desire any more
information on the subject you will find it in his _Treatise on the Love
of God_.[3] His words did indeed open my eyes! They were of the greatest
assistance to me in writing the book I alluded to.
[Footnote 1: Psal. xlviii. 13.]
[Footnote 2: Psal. lxxxiii. 3.]
[Footnote 3: Book 1. chap. 5.]