As the desire involved in every passion leads to action, this action is either ultimate, or it is done as a means to some end. Where the action is ultimate, reason and reflection bear no part. The action is performed blindly by the impulse of passion, without any view. Thus one in extreme hunger snatches at food, without the slightest reflection whether it be salutary or not: Avarice prompts to accumulate wealth without the least view of use; and thereby absurdly converts means into an end: Fear often makes us fly before we reflect whether we really be in danger: and animal love not less often hurries to fruition, without a single thought of gratification. But for the most part, actions are performed as means to some end; and in these actions reason and reflection always bear a part. The end is that event which is desired; and the action is deliberately performed in order to bring about that end. Thus affection to my friend involves a desire to make him happy; and the desire to accomplish that end, prompts me to perform what I judge will contribute to it.
Where the action is ultimate, it hath a cause, viz. the impulse of the passion. But we cannot properly say it hath a motive. This term is appropriated to actions that are performed as means to some end; and the conviction that the action will tend to bring about the end desired, is termed a motive. Thus passions considered as causes of action, are distinguished into two kinds; instinctive, and deliberative. The first operating blindly and by mere impulse, depend entirely upon the sensitive part of our nature. The other operating by reflection and by motives, are connected with the rational part.
The foregoing difference among the passions, is the work of nature. Experience brings on some variations. By all actions performed through the impulse of passion, desire is gratified, and the gratification is pleasant. This lesson we have from experience. And hence it is, that after an action has often been performed by the impulse merely of passion, the pleasure resulting from performance, considered beforehand, becomes a motive, which joins its force with the original impulse in determining us to act. Thus a child eats by the mere impulse of hunger: a young man thinks of the pleasure of gratification, which is a motive for him to eat: and a man farther advanced in life, hath the additional motive that it will contribute to his health.
Instinctive passions are distinguished into two kinds. Where the cause is internal, they are denominated appetites: where external, they retain the common name of passions. Thus hunger, thirst, animal love, are termed appetites; while fear and anger, even when they operate blindly and by mere impulse, are termed passions.
From the definition of a motive above given, it is easy to determine, with the greatest accuracy, what passions are selfish, what social. No passion can properly be termed selfish, but what prompts me to exert actions in order for my own good; nor social, but what prompts me to exert actions in order for the good of another. The motive is that which determines a passion to be social or selfish. Hence it follows, that our appetites, which make us act blindly and by mere impulse, cannot be reckoned either social or selfish; and as little the actions they produce. Thus eating, when prompted by an impulse merely of nature, is neither social nor selfish. But add a motive, That it will contribute to my pleasure or my health, and it becomes in a measure selfish. On the other hand, when affection moves me to exert actions to the end solely of advancing my friend’s happiness, without the slightest regard to my own gratification, such actions are justly denominated social; and so is the affection, that is their cause. If another motive be added, That gratifying the affection will contribute to my own happiness, the actions I perform become partly selfish. Animal love when exerted into action by natural impulse singly, is neither social nor selfish: when exerted with a view to gratification and in order to make me happy, it is selfish. When the motive of giving pleasure to its object is superadded, it is partly social, partly selfish. A just action when prompted by the love of justice solely, is neither social nor selfish. When I perform an act of justice with a view to the pleasure of gratification, the action is selfish. I pay my debt for my own sake, not with a view to benefit my creditor. But let me suppose the money has been advanced by a friend without interest, purely to oblige me. In this case, together with the inclination to do justice, there arises a motive of gratitude, which respects the creditor solely, and prompts me to act in order to do him good. Here the action is partly social, partly selfish. Suppose again I meet with a surprising and unexpected act of generosity, that inspires me with love to my benefactor and the utmost gratitude. I burn to do him good: he is the sole object of my desire; and my own pleasure in gratifying the desire, vanisheth out of sight. In this case, the action I perform is purely social. Thus it happens, that when a social motive becomes strong, the action is exerted with a view singly to the object of the passion; and the selfish pleasure arising from gratification is never once considered. The same effect of stifling selfish motives, is equally remarkable in other passions that are in no view social. Ambition, for example, when confined to exaltation as its ultimate end, is neither social nor selfish. Let exaltation be considered as a means to make me happy, and the passion becomes so far selfish. But if the desire of exaltation wax strong and inflame my mind, the selfish motive now mentioned is no longer felt. A slight degree of resentment, where my chief view in acting is the pleasure arising to myself from gratifying the passion, is justly denominated selfish. Where revenge flames so high as to have no other aim but the destruction of its object, it is no longer selfish. In opposition to a social passion, it maybe termed dissocial[17].
Of self, every one hath a direct perception: of other things, we have no knowledge but by means of their attributes. Hence it is, that of self, the perception is more lively than of any other thing. Self is an agreeable object; and, for the reason now given, must be more agreeable than any other object. Is not this sufficient to account for the prevalence of self-love?
In the foregoing part of this chapter, it is suggested, that some circumstances make beings or things fit objects for desire, others not. This hint must be pursued. It is a truth ascertained by universal experience, that a thing which in our apprehension is beyond reach, never is the object of desire. No man, in his right senses, desires to walk in the air, or to descend to the centre of the earth. We may amuse ourselves in a reverie, with building castles in the air, and wishing for what can never happen. But such things never move desire. And indeed a desire to act would be altogether absurd, when we are conscious that the action is beyond our power. In the next place, though the difficulty of attainment with respect to things within reach, often inflames desire; yet where the prospect of attainment is faint and the event extremely uncertain, the object, however agreeable, seldom raiseth any strong desire. Thus beauty or other good qualities in a woman of rank, seldom raises love in any man greatly her inferior. In the third place, different objects, equally within reach, raise emotions in different degrees; and when desire accompanies any of these emotions, its strength, as is natural, is proportioned to that of its cause. Hence the remarkable difference among desires directed upon beings inanimate, animate, and rational. The emotion caused by a rational being, is out of measure stronger than any caused by an animal without reason; and an emotion raised by such an animal, is stronger than what is caused by any thing inanimate. There is a separate reason why desire of which a rational being is the object should be the strongest. Desire directed upon such a being, is gratified many ways, by loving, serving, benefiting, the object; and it is a well known truth, that our desires naturally swell by exercise. Desire directed upon an inanimate being, susceptible neither of pleasure nor pain, is not capable of a higher gratification than that of acquiring the property. Hence it is, that though every feeling which raiseth desire, is strictly speaking a passion; yet commonly those feelings only are denominated passions of which sensible beings capable of pleasure and pain are the objects.
SECT. II.
Causes of the emotions of joy and sorrow.
THis subject was purposely reserved for a separate section, because it could not, with perspicuity, be handled under the general head. An emotion involving desire is termed a passion; and when the desire is fulfilled, the passion is said to be gratified. The gratification of every passion must be pleasant, or in other words produce a pleasant emotion; for nothing can be more natural, than that the accomplishment of any wish or desire should affect us with joy. I cannot even except the case, where a man, through remorse, is desirous to chastise and punish himself. The joy of gratification is properly called an emotion; because it makes us happy in our present situation, and is ultimate in its nature, not having a tendency to any thing beyond. On the other hand, sorrow must be the result of an event contrary to what we desire; for if the accomplishment of desire produce joy, it is equally natural that disappointment should produce sorrow.