Mental Philosophy: Including the Intellect, Sensibilities, and Will

by Joseph Haven

Violent Exhibitions of this Feeling, where found.—It is accordingly in natures uncultivated and rude, little accustomed to self control, and the restraints of reason and religion, that we naturally look for the violent and excessive outbursts of passion. A regard for our own happiness, a due sense of our own dignity and moral worth, and a decent respect for the opinions of those about us, whose approbation and sympathy we desire, contribute, if not to diminish the strength, at least to repress the manifestation, in any considerable degree, of the feeling of resentment, in those who have arrived at years of discretion, and have profited by the lessons of experience. The child is angry with the stone against which he strikes his foot, and vents his resentment for any injury upon the unconscious instrument, which was the means of its infliction. The savage tears from his flesh the arrow that has wounded him, and breaks it into fragments. This is undoubtedly the instinct of nature, untaught by reason and reflection. It is probably the first impulse of every man, on the reception of any injury, and before he has time to reflect on the folly of such a course, to express in some manner his resentment against the immediate instrument of his suffering.

Deliberate Form of Resentment.—When the first impulse has passed, and time gives opportunity for reflection, this instinctive resentment dies away, or gives place to a deliberate and rational form of the same emotion. Thus affected, the mind casts about it to ascertain the real extent of its injury, and the best means of redress; it distinguishes between the conscious agent, and the unconscious instrument of its wrong, between the intentional injury and the unintentional, and, it may be, accidental harm; it takes into view the circumstances of the case, and the probable motives of the doer, and graduates its resentment accordingly.

Illustration of deliberate Resentment.—The law of retaliation which prevails among savage tribes, and which demands blood for blood, life for life, and exacts the fearful penalty with a justice inexorable and sure, though often long delayed, and which never loses sight of its victim, though years, and broad lands, and wide waters intervene, affords an illustration of deliberate in distinction from instinctive resentment. The law of honor, so called, as it exists among civilized nations, also illustrates the same principle.

Pointed out by Butler and others.—The distinction which we have indicated between the instinctive and deliberate form of this emotion, was clearly pointed out by Butler, though by no means original with him, as some writers have supposed; it is quite too obvious and important a distinction to have escaped the notice of earlier, and even of ancient philosophers, nor is it at all peculiar to this one affection, but common to all the sensibilities as I have already said.

Modifications of the general Principle.—There are certain modifications of the malevolent affection, which require a passing notice in this connection. I refer to those emotions commonly known as envy, jealousy, and revenge. These are all but different forms of the same general principle, varying as the different circumstances and objects vary which call them forth.

Nature of Envy.—Envy is that form of resentment which too often, and too easily, finds a place in the human bosom, when another is more fortunate, more successful, more honored and esteemed, than ourselves. Especially is this the case, when the fortunate one is from our own circle of companionship, and our own rank in life, and when the honors and distinctions, or the wealth and power, that fall to his lot are such as we might ourselves have aspired to reach. We never, I suspect, envy those whose condition is, and originally was, very far removed from our own. The peasant envies not the lord of the realm, nor the beggar the king, but rather his fellow-peasant, or fellow-beggar, whose hut is warmer, and whose ragged garment not so ragged, as his own. It is the passion of a weak and narrow mind, a mean and degrading emotion, the opposite of every thing noble and generous.

Nature of Jealousy.—Jealousy is that form of the malevolent affection which has relation more particularly, though not exclusively, to the attachment which exists between the sexes, and which is awakened by the supposed rivalry of another. It is one of the most painful of the malevolent affections, and, when thoroughly roused, one of the strongest and most powerful principles of our nature. It is the peculiarity of this passion, that the object of its suspicion, and resentment, is, at the same time, the object of the heart's deepest love, and, it may be, adoration; the strength and bitterness of the passion being in proportion to the fervor and earnestness of that affection. In the character of Othello, we have a fine delineation of the working and development of this trait of human character, as in Cassius we have a portraiture of the corresponding affection of envy.

Nature of Revenge.—Revenge is resentment in its most deliberate form, planned and carried into execution, not for the prevention of crime or injury, nor yet with reference to the ends of justice, but for the simple gratification of personal hatred. As such, and springing from such a motive, it is usually excessive in degree, and malicious in character. It is a dark and deadly passion, not more dangerous to society than degrading to the bosom that harbors it. It has not one redeeming quality to recommend it. It is neither the mark of a noble and generous, nor yet of a manly and brave spirit. It is the offspring of fear, rather than of courage. It usually seeks to accomplish, by secret and unlawful means, what it is ashamed or afraid to do openly, and by fair and honorable measures. It is a passion closely allied to those which may be supposed to reign in the bosom of a fiend.