Chapter 27: Of the Passion of Fear — Its Causes

The opposite passion to this of hope is fear: which being an equivocal passion, and admitting of many different kinds, can [reconstructed: scarce] have any whole and simple definition to explain it. There is a virtuous fear; a fear of sin and shame; an intellectual fear of admiration, when the excellency of the object dazzles our eye; a fear of reverence; an astonishing fear, by reason of the newness; and an oppressing fear, by reason of the nearness and unavoidableness of the evil [reconstructed: feared]. It is a grief, trouble, flight, aversion of some approaching evil apprehended, either as destructive, or as burdensome to our nature, and not easily resistible by our strength: for the qualification of the object thereof, because it is in all circumstances like that of hope (save in the evil of it) I shall therefore forbear to touch it, and shall only in brief consider the dignities and defects thereof in its causes and effects.

Fear is a humbling and debasing passion, which always imports some manner of servitude and subjection in whom it resides; so then as in the former passion of hope I noted the fundamental cause thereof to be weakness and [reconstructed: Want]: so likewise in this of fear, the root and first principle is [reconstructed: Weakness] and subjection; whereof the one implies a disability in us to resist, the other a necessity to undergo an evil.

Hence it is that we fear the displeasure of great men; or the power of unjust men; or the competition of popular and plausible men; or the cunning of close and malicious men; or the revenge of provoked men; or the guilt of injurious men that have wronged us already: because in all these cases there is some notice of weakness and subjection in us: so that fear is of all other a naked passion: for as nakedness has three evil properties; to disable for defense; to expose to injury; and from both to work shame in the consciousness of our dejected condition: so likewise fear has three properties; to make us impotent and obnoxious; and from both these to beget shame. For though his speech was true, Rubor est virtutis color, that shame and virtue have the same color (which makes it seem a companion rather of perfection than of weakness; yet indeed it is rather a sign of a mind virtuously disposed in [reconstructed: testifying] the quick apprehensiveness of its own defects, than any adjunct of virtue itself.

So then the roots of this passion are weakness and subjection both together; so that where either condition is wanting, there is not any proper ground of fear, and therefore we see sundry times strength takes off the yoke of obedience, not only in the civil government of men, but in the natural government of creatures by men, to whom by the law of Creation they were all made subject; yet the strength of many of them has taught them to [reconstructed: forget] their original subjection, and instead of fearing, to terrify man their lord; and when ever we tame any of them, and reduce them to their first condition: this is not so much an act of our dominion, whereby we awe them, as of our reason, whereby we deceive them; and we are beholden more therein to the working of our wit, than to the prerogative of our nature; and usually every thing which has knowledge enough to measure its own abilities; the more it has of strength, the less it has of fear; that which Solomon makes the strongest, the Apostle makes the fittest to expel [reconstructed: Fear], to wit, love.

So likewise on the other side, immunity from subjection in the midst of weakness removes fear. Of this we may give an instance in guilty persons, who notwithstanding their weakness; yet when once by the privilege of their sanctuary or mercy of their Judge they are freed from the obligation of the law, though not from the offense; their former fears do presently turn into joy and gratulations: and that is the reason why good men have such boldness, confidence, and courage, that they can bid defiance to death; because though they be not quite delivered from the corruption; yet they are from the curse and condemnation of sin, though by reason of their weakness they are not delivered from the mouth; yet they are from the teeth and stings of death; though not from the earth of the grave; yet from the hell of the grave; though not from sin; [reconstructed: yet] from the strength and malediction of sin — the law, [reconstructed: our] adversary must be strong, as well as ourselves weak, if he looks for fear.

The corruption then of this passion, as it depends upon these causes is, when it arises out of too base a conceit of our own, or too high of another's strength; the one proceeding from an error of humility, in undervaluing ourselves; the other from an error of judgment or suspicion in mistaking of others. There are some men who as the [reconstructed: Orator] speaks of despairing wits, [illegible], who are too unthankful to Nature in a [reconstructed: slight] esteem of the abilities she has given them, and deserve that weakness which they unjustly complain of: the sight of whose judgment is not unlike that of perspective glasses — the two ends whereof have a double representation; the one fuller and nearer the truth; the other smaller and at a far greater distance: so it is with men of this temper, they look on themselves and others with a double prejudice; on themselves with a distrusting and despairing judgment, which presents every thing remote and small; on others with [reconstructed: an] overvaluing and admiring judgment, which contrariwise presents all perfections too perfect. And by this means between a self-dislike, and a too high estimation of others, truth ever falls to the ground, and for revenge of herself, leaves the party thus [reconstructed: grown] timorous. For as error has a property to produce and nourish any passion, according to the nature of the subject matter which it is conversant about: so principally this present passion; because error itself is a kind of Formido Intellectus, a fear of the understanding: and it is no great wonder for one fear to beget another. And therefore when Christ would take away the fear of his Disciples, he first removes their prejudice: Fear not those that can kill the body only, and can do no more. Where the overflowing of their fears seems to have been grounded on the over-judging of an adverse power. Thus much for the root and essential cause of fear: these which follow, are more casual and upon occasion.

Of which the first may be the suddenness of an [reconstructed: approaching] evil, when it seizes upon (as it were) in the dark: for all darkness is comfortless; and therefore the last terrible judgment is described to us by the blackness and unexpectedness of it, by the darkness of night, and the suddenness of lightning. All unacquaintance then and ignorance of an approaching evil, must needs work amazement and terror: as contrarily a foresight thereof works patience to undergo, and boldness to encounter it: as Tacitus speaks of Caecina, Ambiguarum rerum sciens eoque intrepidus, that he was acquainted with difficulties, and therefore not fearful of them. And there is good reason for this, because in a sudden daunt and onset of an unexpected evil, the spirits which were before orderly carried by their several due motions to their natural works, are upon this strange appearance and instant oppression of danger so disordered, mixed, and [reconstructed: stifled], that there is no power left either in the soul for counsel, or in the body for execution. For as it is in the wars of men, so of passions, those are more terrible, which are by way of invasion, than of battle, which set upon men unarmed and uncomposed; than those which find them prepared for resistance: and so the poet describes a lamentable overthrow by the suddenness of the one side, and the ignorance of the other:

Invadunt urbes somno vinoque sepultam.

They do invade a city all at rest, which riot had with sleep and wine oppressed.

And this is one reason why men inclinable to this passion are commonly more fearful in the night than at other times; because then the imagination is presenting objects not formerly thought on, when the spirits which should strengthen are more retired, and reason less guarded.

And yet there are evils too, which on the other side more affright with their long expectation and train, than if they were more contracted and speedy. [reconstructed: Some] set upon us by stealth, affrighting us like lightning with a sudden blaze; others with a train and pomp like a comet, which is ushered in with a stream of fire, and like thunder, which hurts not only with its danger, but with its noise: and therefore Aristotle reckons [illegible] the signs of an approaching evil among the objects of fear.

Another cause of fear may be the nearness of an evil, when we perceive it to be within the reach of us, and now ready to set upon us. For as it is with objects of sense in a distance of place, so it is with the objects of passion, in a distance of time; removal in either, the greater it is, the less present it makes the object; and by consequence, the weaker is the impression therefrom upon the faculty: and this reason Aristotle gives why death, which elsewhere he makes the most terrible evil to nature, does not yet with the conceit thereof, by reason that it is apprehended at an indefinite and remote distance, work such terror and amazement: nor so stiffen reason and the spirits, as objects far less in themselves injurious to nature; but yet presented with a determined nearness. And the reason is plain, because no evil hurts us by a simple apprehension of its nature, but of its union: and all propinquity is a degree of union. For although futurition be a necessary condition required in the object, which must infer fear; yet all evil, the less it has de Future, the more it has de Terribili: which is the reason, why that carnal security, which is opposed to the fear of God, is described in the Scripture, by putting the evil day far from us, viewing as in a landscape and at a great distance the terror of that day. And if here the atheist's argument be objected, Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we shall die: where the propinquity of ruin is made an inducement to riot. We must answer, that an atheist is here in both right and vain, in that he conceives annihilation, or never more to be the best close of a wicked life; and therefore most earnestly (though most vainly) desires that it may be the issue of his Epicureanism and sensuality. And here briefly the corruption of fear in this particular is, when it takes advantage by the approach of evil, to swell so high as to sink reason, and to grow bigger than the evil which it is afraid of.

— propiusque pericli it Timor, et major Martis jam apparet imago —

Their fear gets closer than the thing it fears, war's image bigger than itself appears.

For as it is a sign of distemper in the body, when the unequal distribution of nourishment and humors causes some parts to exceed their due proportion of greatness: so is it likewise in the faculties of the mind, when the inferior grow high and strong; if reason raise not itself to such a proportion, as still to maintain and manage its authority and government over them. But this is to be observed only of the rising and strength, not of the humility and descent of reason: for though it be fit for the power of reason to keep itself up above rebellion; yet is it not necessary that it should stoop and sink according to the lowness or sordidness of any passion. As in the body, though we would have all parts increase alike; yet if one part by distemper grow weak, we require in the rest a fellow-feeling, not a fellow-languishing — indeed in both cases, where the inferior part is weaker, it is the course of nature and art to fortify the higher; because in a superior there is required as well a power to quicken and raise that which droops, as to suppress and keep under that which rebels.

Another cause of fear may be newness of evil: when it is such, with which neither the mind itself has had any preceding encounter, whereby to judge of its own strength; nor any example of some other man's prosperous issue to confirm its hopes in the like success. For as before I noted out of the Philosopher, experience is instead of armor, and is a kind of fortitude, enabling both to judge and to bear troubles: for there are some things which he elegantly calls them, [illegible]. Empty dangers: Epictetus calls them, [illegible]. Scarecrows, and visors, which children fear only out of ignorance: as soon as they are known, they cease to be terrible. As the log of timber which was cast into the pond, did with the first noise exceedingly frighten the frogs, which afterwards when it lay quietly, they securely swam about. And this ignorance and inexperience is the cause that a man can set no bounds to his fear. I grieve for so much evil as has befallen me; but I fear so much as may befall me; and the more strong and working my fancy, the greater my fear; because what I cannot measure by knowledge, I measure by imagination — the figments of fancy do usually exceed truth.

And from this ignorance likewise it is, that timorous men are usually inquisitive, as the Philosopher notes; and so the Prophet expresses the fear of the Edomites in the war, Watchman! What of the night? Watchman! What of the night? Fear usually doubles the same questions, as grief does the same complaints. Therefore men in a fright and amazement, look one another in the face; one man's countenance, as it were asking counsel of another — and once more from here grow the irresolutions of timorous men, because they know not what to do, nor which way to flee the things they fear: in which respect they are said to flee from an enemy seven ways, as ever suspecting they are in the worst. Pavidi semper Consilia in incerto, they never can have fixed and composed counsels: and it is the usual voice of men in their fears, I know not what to do, I know not which way to turn myself; trembling of heart, and failing of eyes, blindness and astonishment: ignorance and fear, do thus usually accompany each other. And therefore the Stoics make [illegible] and [illegible] a sluggish affection of mind, whereby a man shrinks back, and declines business, because of difficulty of danger which he observes in it; and a tumultuous and distracted frame of mind, not knowing which way to take, to be among the kinds of this passion of fear. The Poet speaking of the Sabine Virgins, whom the Roman youth snatched away, and took to them for wives, has thus elegantly described this distraction of fear.

Vt fugiunt aquilat timidissima turba Columbae, Vtque fugit visos agna novella lupos: Sic illa simuere viros sine lege mentes, Constitit in nulla qui fuit ante Color. Nam Timor unus erat, facies non una timoris Pars laniat Crines, pars fine mente sedet. Altera maesta filet, frustra vocat altera matrem, Haec queritur, stupet hac, hac fugit, illa manet. As weak and fearful doves the eagle flee, and tender lambs when they the wolf espie: so the affrighted Sabine Virgins run pale and discolored, Roman youth to shun. Their fear was one, but fear had not one look, part here sit bereft of sense, part there does pluck, and tear their hairs, one silent mourns, another with a successless outcry calls her mother. One moans, the fright another does amaze: one flies for fear, for fear another stays.

Now the reasons why newness of evil does thus work fear, may be many. For first, all admiration is a kind of fear: it being the property of man, not only to fear that which is against, but that also which is above our nature, either in regard of natural and civil dignity, which works a fear of reverence; as to parents, governors, masters; or in regard of moral excellency and excesses above the strength of the faculty, which works a fear of admiration. Now then it is the property of every thing, that brings novelty with it to work more or less, some manner of admiration, which, (as the honor of this age's learning calls it) is a broken knowledge, and commonly the first step, which we make in each particular science: and therefore children are most given to wonder, because every thing appears new to them. Now then when any evil shall at once frighten our nature, and pose our understanding, the more our ignorance does weaken our reason, the more does it strengthen our passion.

Again, though such evils may perhaps be in themselves but slight, yet the very strangeness of them will work an opinion of their greatness: for as that of Seneca is true, Magnitudinem rerum [illegible] sub duci: that use makes small esteem of great things: so it will follow on the contrary side, that novelty makes evil appear greater, as the way which a man is least acquainted with seems the longest. And therefore the Romans did use themselves to their gladiatorial fights and bloody spectacles that acquaintance with wounds and blood might make them the less fear it in the wars.

And lastly, such is the inbred cautiousness of nature in declining all noxious things, and such is the common suspicion of the mind, whereby out of a tendering of its own safety, it is willing to know every thing before it makes experiment of any, and thereby it is made naturally fearful even of harmless and inoffensive things ([reconstructed: omnia tuta timens], fearing all things safe), much more than of those which bring with them the noise and face of evil.

Now the corruption of this passion herein is, when it falls too soon upon the object, and snatches it from the understanding before that it has duly weighed the nature of it; when (as Aristotle speaks of anger) that it runs away from reason with a half message, so the object shall be plucked away from the understanding with a half judgment. For when a man has but a half and broken sight, like him in the Gospel, he will be easily apt to judge men as big as trees, and to pass a false sentence upon any thing which he fears.

Another cause of fear may be conscience of evil and guiltiness of mind, which like mud in water, the more it is stirred, does the more soil and thicken. For wickedness, when it is condemned of its own witness is exceeding timorous, and being pressed with conscience, always forecasts terrible things; and as the historian speaks of tyrants, so may we of any other wicked men, Si recludantur mentes, posse aspici laniatus & ictus, their minds with lust, [reconstructed: cruelty] and unclean resolution, being no less torn and made raw, than the body is with scourges. Every vicious man has a double flight from God, a flight from the holiness, and a flight from the justice of his will. Adam first eats, and next he hides: as soon as he has transgressed the covenant, he expects the curse, and therefore we shall still observe that men are afraid of those whom they have injured. [reconstructed: Alcibiades] having provoked the Athenians, was afraid to trust them, saying, It is a foolish thing for a man when he may fly, to betray himself into their hands from whom he cannot fly. And therefore they who would have us fear them, desire nothing more than to be privy to our guilts, and to know such crimes of us, as by detecting of which, they have it in their power to bring either infamy or loss upon us.

Scire volunt secreta domus, atque inde Timeri.

Into our secret crimes they pry, that so we may fear them, when they our vices know.

And therefore innocence is the best armor that any man can put on against other men's malice or his own fears: For the righteous are bold as a lion (Proverbs 28:1).

Other causes of fear might here be observed which I shall but intimate. As we fear active and busy men, because if they be provoked, they will stir and look about to revenge themselves.

We fear likewise informers, because they are inquisitive and pry into the secrets of others. Plutarch compares them to cupping glasses which draw ever the worst humors of the body to them, and to those gates through which none passed but condemned and piacular persons. We may liken them to flies, which resort only to the raw and corrupt parts of the body, or if they light on a sound part, never leave blowing on it, till they dispose it to putrefaction. For this is all the comfort of malevolent persons, to make others appear worse than they are, that they themselves, though they be the worst of men, may not appear so.

We fear also abusive and satirical wits, which make use of other men's names, as of whetstones to sharpen themselves upon.

Omnes hi metuunt versus, odere poetas, Fanum habet in [reconstructed: cornu], longe suge; dummodo risum [reconstructed: Excutiat] sibi, non hic cuiquam parcet amico. Et, quodcunque semel Chartis illeverit, omnes Gestiet a furno redeuntes scire, lacuque, Et pueros, & anu[…]— These all hate poets, fear to suffer scorn from those curst wits, which carry hay in horn. Shun them, they will not spare their dearest friend to make themselves sport. Then what they have penned they're big with, till old wives and boys that go from ovens and from washpools know it too.

Lastly, we fear close, cunning, and suppressed malice, which like a skinned wound does rankle inwardly: crafty, insinuative, plausible men, that can shroud and palliate their revengeful purposes, under pretexts of love. I formerly noted it of Tiberius, and Aelius Spartianus observes it of Antoninus Geta, that men were more afraid of his kindness than of his anger, because his custom was to show much courtesy where he intended mischief.

And Caesar was wont to say that he was not afraid of Antony and Dolabella, bold adversaries, but of Brutus and Cassius, his pale and lean enemies, who were able to smother their passion, till they had fit opportunity to act it. The Italians (they say) have a proverb wherein they promise to take heed themselves of their enemy, but pray to God to deliver them from their friend. And this as it is of all other the most dangerous and the most unchristian, so is it the most unworthy and sordid disposition of mind, (I cannot find words bad enough to characterize it by) which at the same time can both flatter and hate, and with the same breath praise a man, and undo him. And therefore the philosopher tells us that a magnanimous man is 〈in non-Latin alphabet〉 & 〈in non-Latin alphabet〉. Such an one as does boldly profess as well his displeasure as his love, esteeming it timorousness to stifle and conceal his affections.

Of all Christ's enemies, Judas when he kissed him, the Herodians when they praised him, and the Devil when he confessed him were the worst and most ill-favored. A leprosy was ever most unclean when it was whitest, and Satan is never more wicked or more ugly than when he puts on Samuel's mantle. Hatred when it flatters, is the most misshapen monster. Like those poisons which kill men with laughing; or like the Philistines' trespass-offering, mice, and emeralds made of gold.