The Passions.
Arising from the most elemental instinctive emotions, we find what may
be termed "the passions." By the term "passion" is meant those strong
feelings in which the elemental selfish instincts are manifested in
relation to other persons, either in the phase of attraction or
repulsion. In this class we find the elementary phases of love, and the
feelings of hate, anger, jealousy, revenge, etc. This class of emotions
usually manifests violently, as compared with the other emotions. The
passions generally arise from self-preservation, race preservation and
reproduction, self-interest, self-aggrandizement, etc., and may be
regarded as a more complex phase of the elemental instinctive emotions.
The elemental instinctive emotions of self-preservation and self-comfort
cause the individual to experience and manifest the passional emotions
of desire for combat, anger, hate, revenge, etc., while the instinctive
emotions leading to reproduction and continuance of the race give rise
to the passional emotions of sexual love, jealousy, etc. The desire to
attract the other sex increases ambition, vanity, love of display, and
other feelings.
It is only when this class of emotions blends with the higher emotions
that the passions become purified and refined. But it must not be
forgotten that these emotions were very necessary for the welfare of the
race in the early stage of its evolution, and that they still play an
active part in human life, under the greater or less restraint imposed
by civilized society. Nor should it be forgotten that from these
emotions have evolved the highest love of one human being for another.
From instinctive sexual love and the "racial instinct" have developed
the higher affection of man for woman, and woman for man, in all their
beautiful manifestations--and the love of the parent for the child, and
the love of the child for the parent. The first manifestation of
altruism arises in the love of the living creature for its mate, and in
the love of the parents for their offspring. In certain forms of life
where the association of the sexes is merely for the moment, and is not
followed by protection, mutual aid, and companionship, there is found an
absence of mutual affection of any kind, the only feeling being an
elemental reproductive instinct bringing the male and female together
for the moment--an almost purely reflex activity. In the same way, in
the cases of certain animals (the rattlesnake, for instance) in which
the young are able to protect themselves from birth, there is seen a
total absence of parental affection or the return thereof. Human love
between the sexes, in its higher and lower degrees, is a natural
evolution from passional emotion of a low order, due to the growth of
social, ethical, moral, and æsthetic emotion arising from the
necessities of the increasing complexity and development of human life.
The simpler forms of passional emotion are almost entirely instinctive
in their manifestation. Indeed, in many cases, there appears to be but
little more than a high form of reflex nervous action. The following
words of William James give us an interesting view of this fact of life:
"The cat runs after the mouse, runs or shows fight before the dog,
avoids falling from walls and trees, shuns fire and water, not because
he has any notion either of life or of death or of self-preservation. He
acts in each case separately and simply because he cannot help it; being
so framed that when that particular running thing called a mouse appears
in his field of vision, he _must_ pursue; that when that particular
barking and obstreperous thing called a dog appears there, he _must_
retire if at a distance, and scratch if close by; that he _must_
withdraw his feet from water, and his face from flame, etc. * * * Now,
why do the various animals do what seem to us such strange things in the
presence of such outlandish stimuli? Why does the hen, for instance,
submit herself to the tedium of incubating such a fearfully
uninteresting set of objects as a nestful of eggs, unless she have some
sort of prophetic inkling of the result? The only answer is _ad
hominem_. We can only interpret the instinct of brutes by what we know
of instincts in ourselves. Why do men always lie down, when they can, on
soft beds rather than on soft floors? Why do they sit around a stove on
a cold day? Why, in a room, do they place themselves, ninety-nine times
out of a hundred, with their faces toward its middle rather than to the
wall? Why does the maiden interest the youth so much that everything
about her seems more important and significant than anything else in the
world? Nothing more can be said than that these are human ways, and that
every creature likes its own ways, and takes to following them as a
matter of course. Science may come and consider these ways, and find
that most of them are useful. But it is not for the sake of their
utility that they are followed, but because at the moment of following
them we feel that it is the only appropriate and natural thing to do.
Not one man in a million, when taking his dinner, ever thinks of its
utility. He eats because the food tastes good, and makes him want more.
If you should ask him _why_ he wants to eat more of what tastes like
that, instead of revering you as a philosopher he will probably laugh at
you for a fool."
James continues: "It takes, in short, what Berkeley called a mind
debauched by learning to carry the process of making the natural seem
strange, so far as to ask the _why_ of any instinctive human act. To the
metaphysician alone can such questions arise as: Why do we smile when
pleased and not scowl? Why are we unable to talk to a crowd as to a
single friend? Why does a particular maiden turn our wits upside down?
The common man can only say, '_Of course_ we smile, _of course_ our
heart palpitates at the sight of the crowd, _of course_ we love the
maiden--that beautiful soul clad in that perfect form, so palpably and
flagrantly made from all eternity to be loved!' And so, probably, does
each animal feel about the particular things it tends to do in the
presence of particular objects. They, too, are _a priori_ syntheses. To
the lion it is the lioness which is made to be loved; to the bear, the
she bear. To the broody hen the notion would seem monstrous that there
should be a creature in the world to whom a nestful of eggs was not the
utterly fascinating, precious, and never-to-be-too-much-sat-upon object
which it is to her. Thus we may be sure that however mysterious some
animals' instincts may appear to us, our instincts will appear no less
mysterious to them. And we may conclude that, to the animal which obeys
it, every impulse and every step of that instinct shines with its own
sufficient light, and seems at the moment the only externally right and
proper thing to do. It may be done for its own sake exclusively."
One has very little need, as a rule, to develop the passional emotions.
Instinct has taken pretty good care that we shall have our share of this
class of feelings. But there is a need to train, restrain, govern, and
control these emotions, for the conditions which brought about their
original being have changed. Our social conventions require that we
should subordinate these passional feelings, to some extent at least.
Society insists that we must restrict our love impulses to certain
limits and to certain quarters, and that we subdue our anger and hate,
except toward the enemies of our land, the disturbers of public peace,
and the menacers of the social conventions of our time and land. The
public welfare requires that we inhibit our fighting impulses, except in
cases of self-defense or war. Public policy requires that we keep our
ambitions within reasonable limits, which limits change from time to
time, of course. In short, society has stepped in and insisted that man,
as a social being, must not only acquire a _social conscience_ but must
also develop sociable emotions and inhibit his unsociable ones. The
evolution of man's nature has caused him unconsciously to modify his
elemental, instinctive, passional emotions, and subordinate them to the
dictates of social, ethical, moral, and æsthetic feelings and ideals,
and to intellectual considerations. Even the original elemental
instincts of the lower animals have been modified by reason of the
social requirements of the pack, herd, or drove, until the modified
instinct is now the ruling force.
The general principles of emotional control, restraint, and mastery, as
given in a preceding chapter, are applicable to the particular class of
emotions now under consideration here.
(1) By refraining from the physical expression, one may at least
partially inhibit the emotion.
(2) By refusing to create the habit, one may more easily manifest
control.
(3) By refusing to dwell upon the idea or mental picture of the
exciting object, one may lessen the stimulus.
(4) By cultivating the opposite class of emotions, one may inhibit
any class of feeling.
(5) And, finally, by acquiring a control of the attention, by means
of the will, one has the reins firmly in hand, and may drive or hold
back the steeds of passion as he wills.
The passions are like fiery horses, useful if well under control, but
most dangerous if the control is lost. The ego is the driver, the will
his hands, attention the reins, habit the bit, and the passions the
horses. To drive the chariot of life under social conditions, the ego
must have strong hands (will) to tighten or loosen the reins of
attention. He must also employ a well designed and shaped bit of habit.
Without strong hands, good reins, and well-adjusted bit, the fiery
steeds of passion may gain control and, running away, dash the chariot
and its driver over the precipice and on to the jagged rocks below.