Chapter 28: Of the Effects of Fear — Suspicion, Superstition, and Wise Caution

I proceed to consider some of the effects of this passion, whereof the first may be suspicion and credulity, which either other men's rumors, or our own working imagination frames to itself. Which effect of fear the historian has wisely observed, Retineri comeatusdum Timet, Credit, what he feared that he believed. And in another place speaking of the strange relations, which had been made of monsters, his judgment on the report is, Visa, sive ex metu credita. It was uncertain whether they had been really seen or believed out of fear. For as timorous men are by their own suspicion ready to frame to themselves new terrors, and to fear where no fear is, which the poet has observed.

Quae finxêre Timent.

—they are afraid, Of fancies which themselves have made.

So are they ready likewise to believe the apparition of their own brain for real terrors: For Tacitus his speech is here likewise true: Fingunt Creduntque, first they feign, and then they believe.

Now the reason hereof may be, first, the general impression of nature, which being subject to infinite dangers, has therefore given it a wisdom of providence, and circumspection to foresee those evils, which cannot by dexterity be so easily shifted off, as they may at a distance be prevented; so that we find even in the most clear and undisturbed order of our operations toward any new thing (though not apprehended as noxious and offensive to our nature) until it be better understood, a secret drawing back and fear lest it should prove hurtful to us; how much more then when it is once prepossessed with passion: For as cloth once dyed from its natural white, will take no other but a darker color: So minds once steeped in the bitter humors of this melancholic passion, will seldom admit of any, but more black and fearful conceits. And from this suspicion of fear it is that timorous men are usually cruel when they gain any advantage. Their jealousy teaching them to do that to others which they fear from them.

A second reason may be, because in fear the mind of man is drawn to a nearer sense of its weakness, and to a more prejudiced apprehension of the adverse power: and therefore it is a true observation, Prona ad Religionem p[•…]rculsa semel mentes, &c. Minds once possessed with fearful conceits, are most forward in sacrifices, and religious ceremonies, to avert the evils, which they expect. So that as Tacitus on another occasion speaks, Inclinatis ad credendum. So I may say, Inclinatis ad timendum animis loco omnium, etiam Fortuna, When the mind is once drooping, things which before passed away as matters of course and casualty, are now drawn within the compass of presages and emphatic evils.

But here by the way we are to remember that this credulity of fear is to be understood with respect to its own suspicion, otherwise in regard of those strengthening helps which are given against it, it is ever incredulous: O you of little faith! why do you fear?

Now this effect of fear is generally in itself a corruption of it: For though I would have a man's dangers make him provident and solicitous in the forecasting future evils out of a sound and sober conjecture, according as are the likelihoods of their event, and not have him flatter himself in a careless security, nor divert his mind from such unwelcome and pensive thoughts, like Vitellius in Tacitus, who in the near approach of his fatal [reconstructed: ruin], was Trepidus dein Temulentus, one hour fearful, and the next drunk, smothering in himself every thought of ensuing danger, and enduring nothing but [reconstructed: Iucundum et Laetum]; that which was pleasing, though harmful to him; yet I would not have the mind tormented with ungrounded fancies, and preoccupied evils to be no further effected than in our brain, because hereby it is made soft and irresolute, tumultuous and confused, and both ways much indisposed and disabled for action.

Another ill effect of fear, is a dislike of whatever means reason presents for the freeing of us, from where issue inconstancy and continual change of resolutions, hating all counsels when they are present, and recalling them when they are too far past, which effect is elegantly described by the author of the book of Wisdom, who says that fear is a betraying of the succors which reason offers: a submitting of them to the false interpretations of a crooked and prejudiced suspicion, which overcuriously discovering weakness in all means, and making use of none, does thereby betray nature into the hands of danger. They say of a certain fish, that it has a sword, but it has not a heart: a perfect emblem of fear, which though you put into armor, yet you cannot give it courage. And therefore as he said, an army of lions led by a stag, would do less service than an army of stags led by a lion, because in that case fear would betray her own succors. And this I find a frequent observation, that Pavidis consiliain incerto. Fear ever dazzles the eye, and blinds the mind in all her counsels: and Timor etiam auxilia reformidat. It is afraid of the very succors that are offered. And therefore it is noted as a great mastery of Ulysses over his fears, that he could think and wisely advise what to do.

—Nec talia passus Ulysses, Oblitusq, sui est Ithacus discrimine tanto.

Although with fears oppressed, yet he had not the cares and thoughts of his own peace forgot.

Now the reason of this may be first, because fear is a multiplying and generative passion, ever producing motions of its own nature. He who fears danger from another's power, will easily fear errors or impotency in his own aids, and it is common with men to think themselves unwise, when they feel themselves unhappy, and this very thought that they are so, does I know not by what fascination make them so. So that as a chased buck, when he flies from the dogs, does many times fly into the net which was spread for him: so when our fears drive us from one mischief, they often hamper and entangle us in another.

Again it is the property of Fear, to make us ever reflect upon our own weakness, and (as I said) not only to present it, but to work it: as the Sun when it discloses to us the glorious lights of the one part, is commonly itself hid in the other part of the heavens: as contrarily, when it shines on the Earth, it hides the stars: so it is in those two offices of reason — the transient and reflexive act, that whereby we look outward on others; or inward on ourselves, specially where there is passion to withdraw and pervert it; as the one is stronger, so commonly the other is weaker: which is true most of all in this passion of Fear, wherein the more we see of dangers from outward oppositions, the less we see of inward strength for resistance. Insomuch that great minds, when they meet with great dangers, are oftentimes staggered, as the [reconstructed: Poet] intimates, when Ajax came forth to battle:

[in non-Latin alphabet]

Fear had the other Trojans all oppressed; Indeed Hector's heart panted within his breast.

A third effect may be a weakness of the faculties of the mind, and the spirits in the body; whereby the one is made unfit for search or counsel; the other for service or execution. And hence (as Plutarch notes) it imports in the Greek, a binding or shutting up, and so withdrawing and indisposing the soul for action. And such actions, as Fear forces a man upon, are presumed to be so weak and unnatural, that it is a maxim in the law, [reconstructed: Per metus gesta, pro ratis non habentur]: Those things which we do in Fear, are void and invalid to bind, when the Fear which forces them is removed. And as it is in the civil state, so it is in the moral commonwealth of the soul, there are three principal ways to infer weakness, foreign incursions, intestine tumults, and an emptying of the parts, all which are to be seen in an extremity of Fear. Where first two things are to be granted, one concerning the body, and the other the mind. The first is, that the spirits being of the most strong, subtle, and quick motion, are the principal instruments of intercourse, either in negotiation to, or service from reason: the other, that the mind being of a spiritual and elevating nature, retains then the most perfect power of operation, when it least of all suffers the incursion of grosser passions, which yet I understand not of all manner of ministry and admixture of appetite, with reason (as if the regular motions of inferior powers did not serve to sharpen the counsels of the higher) but only of invasion and tyranny.

Which granted, we may observe all the three former causes of weaknesses in an extremity of Fear. For first there is a confused and unserviceable mixture of passion and reason: the passion with too much outrage and assault breaking in, and distracting the advices of reason, which is foreign incursion: For, though these two are not parts of a different regiment; yet they are of a different nation (if I may so speak) the one belonging to the higher, the other to the lower parts or region of the soul. Secondly, there is tumult and disorder among the spirits, which is civil dissension. Thirdly, there is a retiring of them to the principal castle or fort, the heart, whereby the outward quarters are left naked and ungarrisoned; which though it be a strengthening of the better, yet it is a weakening of the major part, and this answers to emptying or vacuity. By all which, both reason is made unfit for counsel (all the conceits thereof being choked and stifled with a disorderly throng of spirits and passions) [reconstructed: and] the body likewise is so benumbed, that though our discourse were entire, yet it could not be there seconded with any successful service. And hence are those many ill effects of Fear upon the body, whiteness of hair, trembling, silence, thirst, paleness, horror, gnashing of teeth, emission of excrements. The outward parts being overcooled, and the inward melted by the strength of the spirits retiring there. Which Homer has thus described, speaking of a coward.

His color comes and goes, nor does he set long in one place; he crouches to his feet; his heart pants strong, and intercepts his breath, his teeth do gnash with, but the thoughts of death. Brave men are still the same, not much aghast, when the first brunt of their attempts is past.

Where by the way we may observe what Seneca also tells us, that Fear does usually attend the beginnings of great enterprises, even in the worthiest men. Which reminds me of one more, (and that a useful and profitable) effect of this passion, I mean care, wisdom, and caution, which ever proceeds from a moderate Fear, which is a dictate of nature. And therefore the weakest fish swim together in shoals, and the weakest birds build in the smallest and outermost boughs, which are hardest to come to. And we may observe that nature has made the weakest creatures swiftest: as the dove, the hare, the hart: and they say that the hare is very quick at hearing, and sleeps with his eyes open, every way [reconstructed: fitted] to discover danger before it surprises him. For as in religion, a Fear that is governed by the Word of God, so proportionably in morality: a Fear grounded by the word of reason, is the principle of wisdom. As security and supineness is the root of folly, which Tiberius replied to the petition of [reconstructed: Hortalus], wherein he requested of the Senate a contribution from the public treasury to recover the honor of his family, which now was sunk and began to wither. Industry, says he, will languish, idleness will increase, if no man have Fear or Hope in himself: but all will securely expect a supply from others; in themselves lazy and burdensome to us: and it is the judgment of Tacitus upon one of the wisest policies, which ever that Emperor practiced, I mean his writing to the legions abroad, Tanquam adepto principatu, as if he were already Emperor, when at home in the Senate he used only modesty and refusals, that he did it out of Fear, so wise a counselor was his passion to him. And we find that some great commanders have caused their scout-watches to be unarmed, that Fear might make them the more vigilant. And therefore this passion is the instrument of discipline, seasoning the mind, as ground colors do a table, to receive those beauties and perfections, which are to be superinduced.