Chapter 8: Of the Effects of Passions — How They Sharpen Virtue or Corrupt Reason

The last consideration of passions was according to the consequents of their act, which are the ends and effects thereof, both of which I include in one; because the natural end of all operative qualities is the effects which they are appointed by their own, or a superior virtue to produce. Now, though in the particulars there be several perfections conferred both on the operations of the will, and of the understanding, from passions; yet I cannot think of any other general effect which belongs equally to them all, but that only which Tully has observed out of the Peripatetics of anger, that they are the sharpeners (and to keep his phrase) the whetstones of virtue, which make it more operative and fruitful: for passion stirring up the spirits, and quickening the fancy, has thereby a direct influence upon the habits and manners of the mind; which being in this estate constrained to fetch all her motions from imagination, produces them with the same clearness and vigor as they are there represented. And therefore Aristotle, speaking of these two elements and principles of all passion, pleasure and grief, (one of which all others whatever partake of) makes them the rules of all our actions, by which they are all governed, and according to the measure of which they retain their several portions of goodness. Thus anger, zeal, shame, grief, and love are in their several orders the whetstones whereon true fortitude sharpens its sword: for men are never more neglectful and prodigal of their blood than when they are thoroughly pierced with a sense of injuries, or grieved with a loss of their own, or their country's honor. So the poet says of Mezentius, when Aeneas had slain Lausus his son;

—Aestuat ingens Imo in corde pudor [reconstructed: mixtoque] insania luctu, Et furiis agitatus Amor, & conscia virtus. A noble shame boiled in his lowest breast, rage mixed with grief suffered him not to rest; love and a conscious valor [reconstructed: set] him on, and kindled furious resolution.

So, love and compassion are the inciters of bounty; hope, the stay and anchor of patience; keeping the mind, amidst perils and casualties, from floating and sinking; fear, the sharpener of industry; and caution an antidote in all our actions against violence, rashness, and indiscretion: as Latinus said to Turnus, when in rage he hastened to a combat with Aeneas;

—quantum ipse [reconstructed: feroci] Virtute exuperas, tanto me impensius [reconstructed: aequum] est Consulere, atque omnes [reconstructed: metuentem] expendere casus. The more undaunted courage does move you, it's fit my serious fears show the more love; in mature counsels, and in weighing all the various dangers and events may fall.

Those imputations therefore which Tully and Seneca, and other Stoical philosophers make against passions are but light and empty, when they call them diseases and perturbations of the mind; which requires in all its actions both health and serenity, a strong and a clear judgment; both of which properties, they say, are impaired by the distempers of passion. For it is absurd to think that all manner of rest is either healthful or clear; or on the other side, all motion diseased and troublesome: for what water is more sweet than that of a spring, or what more thick or loathsome than that which stands in a puddle, corrupting itself. As in the wind or seas, (to which two, passions are commonly compared) a middle temper between a quiet calm and a violent tempest is most serviceable for the passage between countries; so the agitations of passion, as long as they serve only to drive forward, but not to drown virtue; as long as they keep their dependence on reason, and run only in that channel whereby they are thereby bounded, are of excellent service in all the travail of man's life, and such as without which the growth, success, and dispatch of virtue would be much impaired.

For the corrupt effects of passion in general, they are many more, because there may be a multiplicity as well of evil as of error, when there is but a unity of goodness or of truth. And those effects may be either in respect to themselves, one among another, or in reference to the understanding, will, or body. The effects of them among themselves is in their mutual generating and nourishing of each other; as fear is wrought by love, and anger by grief, [reconstructed: Dolor excitat iras]; as a lion when wounded is most raging.

—fixumque latronis Impavidus frangit telum, & fremit ore cruento.

With bloody mouth, and an undaunted heart, breaks and tears from his wound the fastened dart.

Which effect of passions I have before touched upon; neither is it always a corrupt effect, but only then, when there is in the passion generative some distemper. In which respect of the understanding and will, (both of which I comprise under one name of reason) I conceive the corruption to be principally these four: imposture, or seduction; alienation, or withdrawing; distraction, or [reconstructed: confounding]; and precipitancy, or a headlong transporting of reason.

Now concerning these, we are first to remember that there is in every man a native and original struggling between appetite and reason; which yet proceeds from corruption, and the fall of man, not from nature entire, as the Papists contend; who affirm that the strife and reluctancy between sense and understanding arises from physical and created constitution; and that therefore, that sweet harmony which was between all the faculties of man, animal and rational, in his creation, proceeded from the government of a supernatural grace added thereto: because it being natural for sense to desire sensible, and spirit spiritual good things, and things sensitive and spiritual being among themselves opposite, those desires which are carried to them must needs be opposite likewise.

An argument as weak as the opinion which it defends is dangerous and prejudicial to the honor of man's creation; as tending to prove that the first risings and rebellions of appetite against reason, and all inordinate desires of inferior faculties, till they taint the will, are not formally sins, as having been natural to Adam himself in innocence, though by infused and supernatural grace bridled and suspended. An opinion which retains that odious scandal which they fasten upon us, more justly and truly on their own heads, touching making God the author of sin; in that they affirm that concupiscence, whereby sense is carried to its object inordinately, that is, without the government and assent of reason, to have been natural to Adam; which yet Saint Paul has so many times called by the express name of sin, in one chapter (Romans 7).

And for the argument which they bring, we answer, that naturally, and from the law of creation, there was no formal opposition, but a subordination between spirit and sense. And therefore, notwithstanding the operations of appetite are common to men and beasts, yet we may not grant that they have the same manner of being educed and governed in both these. For, as the operations of the vegetative soul, though common to beasts, men, and plants, are yet in either of these severally so restrained, as that they are truly said to be the proper and peculiar works of that specific form, to which they are annexed: so likewise, the sensitive appetite, though generally it be common to men and beasts, yet in men, it was ordained to proceed naturally from the government of reason, and therefore may properly be called a human appetite, as being determined, restrained, and made conformable to man's nature: so that as long as man continued entire and incorrupt, there was a sweet harmony between all his faculties, and such a happy subordination of them each to other, as that every motion of the inferior powers was directed and governed, and therefore might truly and properly be attributed to the superior; but when once man had tasted of that murdering fruit, which poisoned him and all his posterity, then began those swellings, rebellions, and unjointing of faculties, which made him as lame in his nature, as it did dead in grace; from where passions are become now, in the state of corruption, beastly and sensual, which were before, by creation, reasonable and human: for man being in honor was without understanding, and is become as the beasts that perish.

But to return, we are, as I said, to remember, that there is in man, by reason of his general corruption, such a distemper wrought, as that there is not only crookedness in, but dissension also, and fighting between his parts. And though the light of our reason be by man's fall much dimmed and decayed, yet the remainders thereof are so adverse to our unruly appetite, as that it labors against us, as the Philistines against Samson, (or rather indeed as Delilah, for Samson's eyes were truly put out, before ever the Philistines were upon him) it labors, I say, to deprive us of those relics of sight, which we yet retain.

And this is that first corrupt effect, which I call imposture, or occaecation, whereby passion reigning in the lower parts, and being impatient altogether of resistance or control, labors to mask reason, and to obliterate those principles and original truths, whereby their unruliness might be restrained, or at least convinced. And hence it is, that every man, when he has given place to the violence of appetite, labors next to incline and prepare his mind for assent, and to get reason on the same side with passion. Disobedience is ever cavilling, and contentious; and he who will not work the righteousness of God, will be sure to dispute against it, and to stumble at it. And therefore the Apostles tell us, that repentance, and putting away of lusts, is the only preparation to acknowledge the truth: for so long as any man resolves to hold fast his sin, he will ever [reconstructed: reject] the truth that opposes it, and bribe reason to say something for it.

He made himself a lion, and soon became a boar, a panther, a dragon.

So likewise, the understanding being once invaded by passion, is brought to change into diverse shapes, and to judge of things, not according to their naked and natural truth, but according as it finds them bear in the fancy those impressions of pleasure, which are most agreeable to corrupted nature.

And another reason, why we seek to warrant and to maintain a passion, when we have given way to it, is the love of our ease: for every man, though he can be content to delight in the pleasure of a corrupt passion, yet that part of it, which has the sting in it, is unpleasant: and therefore there is required the hand of reason, by apologies, pleadings, and blandishments, either to mollify the passion, that it shall not then pierce, or to harden and arm the subject, that it may not be sensible of it.

And, that this deceit and [reconstructed: excitation] is a proper work of passion, (besides our own daily experience) this one argument might sufficiently prove; namely, the practice of heretics: who proposing to themselves either gain, or any other carnal and corrupt end, did thereupon presently (as the Apostle notes) vent the perverse disputes of their own corrupt minds, and make all truth a handmaid and lackey to their own lusts. And proportionably to that, their custom has been, Priùs persuadere quàm docere, to creep upon the affections of men, and get footing there, before ever they would adventure the entertainment of their false doctrines. And as it is said of God, that he first accepted Abel, and then his sacrifice; so do they labor first, to work an approbation of their persons in the hearts of men; from which, in the second place, their perverse conceits do find the easier access to their understandings.

For, when silly and unstable minds shall once be brought to such a prejudice, as to have the persons of men in admiration; when they shall see an impostor come to them, as a man that had wholly renounced the world; like Zopyrus or Sinon, clothed and deformed with seeming poverty and repentance; drawing in and out his breath with no other motions than sighs; pretending to bring nothing but the plentiful promises of salvation, tears in his eyes, oil and honey in his mouth, and the most exquisite picture of true holiness, which it is possible for the art or hypocrisy of man's invention to [reconstructed: draw out]: how can the understanding of weak and simple people choose (especially being before framed to belief, by those two credulous qualities, of ignorance and fear) but be made inclinable to receive, not only willingly, but with greediness also, whatever poisonous doctrine, under pretense of wholesome and saving physic, such a subtle impostor shall administer to them? Such a great force there is in voluntary humility, neglecting of the body, and other the like pretended pious frauds, to insinuate and take possession of weak and credulous natures; with whom perhaps, more real, serious, and spiritual arguments, coming with less pomp and ostentation, would not prevail.

—Captique dolis, lacrymisque coactis Quos neque Tydides nec Larissaeus Achilles Non anni domuere decem, non mille carinae. They are surprised by frauds and forced tears, in whom their greatest foes could work no fears; whom ten years' war not won, nor thousand ships, are snared and conquered by perjurious lips.

The second manner of corruption, which passion uses on the understanding and will, was alienating or withdrawing of reason from the serious examination of those pleasures, with which it desires to possess the mind, without control; that when it cannot so far prevail, as to blind and seduce reason, getting the allowance and affirmative consent thereof, it may yet at least so far inveigle it, as to withhold it from any negative determination, and to keep off the mind from a serious and impartial consideration of what appetite desires; for fear lest it should be convinced of sin, and so find the less sweetness in it.

And this is the reason of that affected and voluntary ignorance, which Saint Peter speaks of (2 Peter 3:5); whereby minds prepossessed with a love of inordinate courses, do withhold and divert reason, and forbear to examine that truth, which indeed they know; as fearing, lest thereby they should be deterred from those vices, which they resolve to follow. Which is the same, with that excellent metaphor in Saint Paul; who says that the wrath of God was revealed from heaven, on all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men (Romans 1:18), which hold or detain the truth in unrighteousness: that is, which imprison and keep in that [illegible], as the Apostle interprets himself, in the next verse; all those notions of divine truth, touching the omnipotence and justice of God, which were by the finger of nature written within them, to deter them from, or (if not) to make them inexcusable, in those unnatural pollutions wherein they wallowed. Thus Medea in the Poet:

[illegible]

I know 'tis wicked that I go about, but passion has put all my reason out.

And therefore, that maxim of the Stoic philosopher, out of Plato, is false; [illegible], that all men are unwillingly deprived of truth; since, as Aristotle has observed, directly agreeable to the phrase of Saint Peter, there is [illegible], an elected or voluntary ignorance, which for their security's sake, men nourish themselves in.

And that there should be such an alienation of the mind from truth, when the fancy and heart are hot with passion, cannot be any great wonder: For, the soul is of a limited and determined activity in the body; insomuch, that it cannot with perspicuity and diligence give attendance to diverse objects. And therefore, when a passion in its fullness, both of a violence and delight, does take it up, the more clear and naked brightness of truth is suspended and changed: So that, as the sun and moon, at their rising and setting, seem far greater than at other times, by reason of thick vapors, which are then interposed; so, the mind looking upon things through the mists and troubles of passion, cannot possibly judge of them, in their own proper and immediate truth, but according to that magnitude or color, which they are framed into, by prejudice and distemper.

But then, thirdly, if reason will neither be deluded nor won over to the patronage of evil, nor diverted from the knowledge and notice of good; then does passion strive to confound and distract the apprehensions thereof, that they may not with any firmness or efficacy of discourse, interrupt the current of such irregular and headstrong motions. And this is a most inward and proper effect of passion: For, as things presented to the mind, in the nakedness and simplicity of their own truth, do gain a more firm assent to them, and a more fixed intuition on them; so, on the contrary side, those things which come mixed and troubled, dividing the intention of the mind between truth and passion, cannot obtain any settled or satisfactory resolution from the discourses of reason.

And this is the cause of that reluctance between the knowledge and desires of incontinent men, and others of the like nature: For, as Aristotle observes of them, they are but [illegible], half-evil, as not sinning with that full and plenary consent of will, but Praeter Electionem, as he speaks; so I may more truly say of them, that they have but a half-knowledge, not any distinct and applicative apprehension of truth, but a confused and broken conceit of things in their generality: Not much unlike night-talkers, who cannot be said to be thoroughly asleep, nor perfectly awake, but to be in a middle kind of inordinate temper between both; or (as Aristotle himself gives the simile) it is like a stage-player, whose knowledge is express and clear enough, but the things which it is conversant about, are not personal and particular to those men, but belonging to others, whom they personate: So, the principles of such men are in the general, good and true; but they are never brought down so low, as if they did concern a man's own particular weal or woe, nor thoroughly weighed, with an assuming, applying, concluding conscience; but, like the notion of a drunken or sleeping man, are choked and smothered with the mists of passion.

And this third corruption is that, which Aristotle, in the particular of incontinence, calls [illegible], the weakness and disability of reason, to keep close to her own principles and resolutions: Whereto exactly agrees that of the Prophet; How weak is your heart, seeing you do all things, the works of an imperious whorish woman (Ezekiel 16:30)? And elsewhere, whoredom and wine are said to take away the heart (Hosea 4:11). So Hector describes lascivious Paris:

[illegible]

Your face has beauty in it, but in your breast there does no strength nor resolution rest.

The last effect (which I shall but name) is that which Aristotle calls [illegible], rashness or precipitancy; which is the most tyrannical violence which passion uses; when, in spite of all the dictates of reason, it furiously overrules the will, to determine and allow of anything, which it pleases to put in practice; and like a torrent, carries all before it; or, as the Prophet speaks, rushes like a horse into the battle (Jeremiah 50:38): So lust and anger are sometimes, in the Scripture, called madness (Psalm 102:8; Ecclesiastes 9:3; Luke 6:11); because it transports the soul beyond all bounds of wisdom or counsel, and by the dictates of reason takes occasion to become more outrageous, Ipsaque praesidia occupat, feeds like wildfire upon those remedies, which should remove it: As she said in the Poet;

Levis est dolor, qui capere consilium potest, [reconstructed: Libet ire contra].

That's but light grief, which counsel can abate; mine swells, and all advice resolves to hate.

The corrupt effects which passion works in the last place on the body are various, according to the particular nature of the passions; sometimes too sudden and violent, sometimes too heavy oppression of the heart; the other, sudden perturbation of the spirits. Thus old Eli died, with sudden grief; [reconstructed: Diodorus], with shame; Sophocles, Chilo the Lacedaemonian, and others, with joy; nature being not able to bear that great and sudden alteration, which these passions made in the body. The causes and manner of which [reconstructed: alteration], I reserve (as being inquiries not so directly pertinent to the present purpose) to natural philosophers and physicians. And from the generality of passions, I proceed to the consideration of some particulars, according to the order of their former division: in all which, I shall forbear this long method of the antecedents, concomitants, and consequents of their acts, (many particulars whereof, being of the same nature in all passions, will require to be observed only in one or two, and so proportionally conceived in the rest) and shall insist principally in those particulars which I handle on the causes and effects of them; as being considerations, wherein commonly they are most serviceable or prejudicial to our nature.