Study in Consciousness

A CONTRIBUTION TO THE SCIENCE OF PSYCHOLOGY.

BY

Annie Besant

SECOND EDITION

Theosophical Publishing Society

LONDON AND BENARES

Reprinted 1915

 

CHAPTER IV.

EMOTION.

1. THE BIRTH OF EMOTION.

EMOTION is not a simple or primary state of consciousness, but is a compound made up by the interaction of two of the aspects of the Self-Desire and Intellect. The play of Intellect on Desire gives birth to Emotion; it is the child of both, and shows some of the characteristics of its father, Intellect, as well as of its mother, Desire.

In the developed condition Emotion seems so different from Desire that their  fundamental identity is somewhat veiled; but we can see this identity either by tracing the development of a desire into an emotion, or by studying both side by side, and finding that both have the same characteristics, the same divisions, that the [348] one is, in fact, an elaborated form of the other, the elaboration being due to the presence in the later of a number of  intellectual elements absent from, or less markedly prominent in, the earlier.

Let us trace the development of a desire into an emotion in one of the commonest of human relations, the relation of sex. Here is desire in one of its simplest forms; desire for food, desire for sexual union, are the two fundamental desires of all living things - desire for food to maintain life, desire for sexual union to increase life. In both the sense of “moreness” is experienced, or, otherwise stated, pleasure is felt. The desire for food remains a desire; the food is appro­priated, assimilated, loses its separate identity, becomes part of the “Me”. There is no continued relation between the eater and the food which gives scope for the elaboration of an emotion. It is otherwise in the sex-relation, which tends to become more and more permanent with the evolution of the individuality.

Two savages are drawn towards each other by the attraction of sex; a passion [349] to possess the other arises in each; each desires the other. The desire is as simple as the desire for food. But it cannot be satisfied to the same extent, for neither can wholly appropriate and assimilate the other; each to some extent maintains his or her separate identity, and each only partially becomes the “Me” of the other. There is indeed an extension of the “Me”, but it is by way of inclusion and not by way of self-identification. The presence of this persisting barrier is necessary for the transformation of a desire into an emotion. This makes possible the attach­ment of memory and anticipation to the same object, and not to another object similar in kind - as in the case of food. A continuing desire for union with the same object becomes an emotion, thoughts thus mingling with the primary desire to possess. The barrier which keeps the mutually attracted objects as two not one, which prevents their fusion, while it seems to frustrate really immortalises; were it swept away, desire and emotion alike would vanish, and the Twain-become­-One must then seek another external [350] object for the further self-expansion of pleasure.

To return to our savages, desire-united. The woman falls sick, and ceases, for the time, to be an object of sex-gratification. But the man remembers past, and antici­pates future, delight, and a feeling of sympathy with her suffering, of com­passion for her weakness, arises within him. The persisting attraction towards her, due to memory and anticipation, changes desire into emotion, passion into love, and sympathy and compassion are its earliest manifestations. These, in turn, will lead to his sacrificing himself to her, waking to nurse her when he would sleep, exerting himself for her when he would rest. These spontaneous moods of the love-emotion in him will later solidify into virtues, i.e., will become permanent moods  in his character, showing themselves in response to the calls of human need to all persons with whom he comes into contact, whether they attract him or not. We shall see later that virtues are simply permanent moods of right emotion.

Before, however, dealing with the [351] relation of ethics and emotion, we must further realise the fundamental identity of Desire and Emotion by noting their characteristics and divisions. As this is done, we shall find that emotions do not form a mere jungle, but that all spring from one root, dividing into two main stems, each of these again subdividing into branches, on which grow the leaves of virtues and of vices. This fruitful idea, making possible a science of the emotions, and hence an intelligible and rational system of ethics, is due to an Indian author, Bhagavan Das, who has for the first time introduced order into this  hitherto confused region of consciousness. Students of psychology will find in his Science of the Emotions a lucid treatise, setting forth this scheme, which reduces the chaos of the emotions into a cosmos, and shapes therein an ordered morality. The broad lines of exposition followed here are drawn from that work, to which readers are referred for fuller details.

We have seen that Desire has two main expressions: desire to attract, in order to possess, or again to come into contact [352] with, any object which has previously afforded pleasure; desire to repel, in order to drive far away, or to avoid contact with, any object which has previously inflicted pain. We have seen that Attraction and Repulsion are the two forms of Desire, swaying the Self.

Emotion, being Desire infused with Intellect, inevitably shows the same division into two. The Emotion which is of the nature of Attraction, attracting objects to each other by pleasure, the integrating energy in the universe, is called Love. The Emotion which is of the nature of Repulsion, driving objects apart from each other by pain, the dis­integrating energy in the universe, is called Hate. These are the two stems from the root of Desire, and all the branches of the emotions may be traced back to one of these twain.

Hence the identity of the characteristics of Desire and Emotion; Love seeks to draw to itself the attractive object, or to go after it, in order to unite with it, to possess, or be possessed by, it. It binds by pleasure, by happiness, as Desire binds. [353] Its ties are indeed more lasting, more com­plicated, are composed of more numerous and more delicate threads interwoven into greater complexity, but the essence of Desire-Attraction, the binding of two objects together, is the essence of Emotion-Attraction, of Love. And so also does Hate seek to drive away from itself the repellent object, or to flee from it, in order to be apart from it, to repulse, or be repulsed by, it. It separates by pain, by unhappiness. And thus the essence of Desire-Repulsion, the driving apart of two objects, is the essence of Emotion-Repulsion, of Hate. Love and Hate are the elaborated and thought-­infused forms of the simple Desires to possess and to shun.

 

2. THE PLAY OF EMOTION IN THE FAMIILY,

 

Man has been described as “a social animal” - the biological way of saying that he develops best in contact with, not in isolation from, his fellows. His dis­tinctively intellectual characteristics need, for their evolution, a social medium, and [354] his keenest pleasures - and hence neces­sarily his keenest pains - arise in his relations with others of his own species.  They alone can evoke from him the responses on which his further growth depends. All evolution, all the calling out of latent powers, is in response to stimuli from without, and, when the human stage is reached, the most poignant and effective stimuli can only come from contacts with human beings.

Sex-attraction is the first social bond, and the children born to the husband and wife form, with them, the first social unit, the family. The prolonged helplessness and dependence of the human infant give time for the physical passion of parentage to ripen into the emotion of maternal and paternal love, and thus give stability to the family, while the family itself forms a field in which the various emotions inevit­ably play. Herein are first established  definite and permanent relations between human beings, and on the harmony of these relations, on the benefits bestowed by these relations on each member of the family, does the happiness of each depend. [355]

We can advantageously study the play of Emotion in the family, since here we have a comparatively simple social unit, which yet affords a picture in miniature of society at large. We can find here the origin and evolution of virtues and vices, and see the meaning and object of morality.

We have already seen how sex-passion evolves, under stress of circumstances, into  the emotion of love, and how this love shows itself as tenderness and compassion when the wife, instead of being the equal mate, becomes helpless and dependent, in the temporary physical inferiority caused, say, by child-bearing. Similarly, should sickness or accident reduce the husband to the temporary physical inferiority, tender­ness and compassion will flow out to him from the wife. But these manifestations of love cannot be shown by the stronger without evoking from the weaker answer­ing love-manifestations; these in the condition of weakness will have as their natural characteristics trust, confi­dence, gratitude, all equally love-emotions coloured by weakness and dependence. [356] In the relation of parents to children and of children to parents, where physical superiority and inferiority are far more strongly marked and persist for a con­siderable period of time, these love ­emotions will be continually manifested on both sides. Tenderness, compassion, protection, will be constantly shown by the parents to the children, and trust, confidence, gratitude, will be the constant answer of the children. Variations in the expression of the love-emotion will be caused by variety of circumstances, which will call out generosity, forgiveness, patience, etc., on the part of the parents, and obedience, dutifulness, serviceableness, etc., on the part of the children. Taking these two classes of love-emotions, we see that the common essence in the one class is benevolence, and in the other reverence; the first is love looking downwards on those weaker, inferior to itself; the other love looking upwards on those stronger, superior to itself. And we can then generalise and say: Love looking down­wards is Benevolence; Love looking upwards is Reverence; and these are the [357] several common characteristics of Love from superiors to inferiors, and Love from inferiors to superiors universally.

The normal relations between husband and wife, and those between brothers and sisters, afford us the field for studying the manifestations of love between equals. We see love showing itself as mutual tenderness and mutual trustfulness, as con­sideration, respect, and desire to please, as quick insight into and endeavour to fulfil the wishes of the other, as magnanimity, forbearance. The elements present in the love-emotions of superior to inferior are found here, but mutuality is impressed on all of them. So we may say that the common characteristic of Love between equals is Desire for Mutual Help.

Thus we have Benevolence, Desire for Mutual Help, and Reverence as the three main divisions of the Love-Emotion, and under these all love emotions may be classified. For all human relations are summed up under the three classes: the relations of superiors to inferiors, of equals to equals, of inferiors to superiors.

A similar study of the Hate-Emotion in [358] the family will yield us similar fruits. Where there is hate between husband and wife, the temporary superior will show harshness, cruelty, oppression to the temporary inferior, and these will be answered by the inferior with hate-manifestations characteristic of weakness, such as vindictiveness, fear, and treachery. These will be even more apparent in the relations between parents and children, when both are dominated by the Hate­-Emotion, since the disparity is here greater, and tyranny breeds a whole crop of evil emotions - deceit, servility, cowardice, while the child is helpless, and  disobedience, revolt and revenge as it grows older. Here again we seek a common characteristic, and find that Hate looking downwards is Scorn, and looking upwards is Fear.

Similarly, Hate between equals will show itself in anger, combativeness, dis­respect, violence, aggressiveness, jealousy, insolence, etc.- all the emotions which repel man from man when they stand as rivals, face to face, not hand in hand. The common characteristic of Hate [359] between equals will thus be Mutual Injury. And the three main characteristics of the Hate­-Emotion are Scorn, Desire for Mutual Injury, and Fear.

Love is characterised in all its mani­festations by sympathy, self-sacrifice, the desire to give; these are its essential factors, whether as Benevolence, as Desire for Mutual Help, as Reverence. For all these directly serve Attraction, bring about union, are of the very nature of Love. Hence Love is of the Spirit; for sympathy is the feeling for another as one would feel for oneself; self-sacrifice is the recognition of the claim of the other, as oneself; giving is the condition of spiritual life. Thus Love is seen to belong to the Spirit, to the life-side of the universe.

Hate, on the other hand, is characterised in all its manifestations by antipathy, self-aggrandisement, the desire to take; these are its essential factors, whether as Scorn, Desire for Mutual Injury, or Fear. All these directly serve Repulsion, driving one apart from another. Hence, Hate is of Matter, emphasises manifoldness and differences, is essentially separateness, [360] belongs to the form-side of the universe.

We have thus far dealt with the play of Emotion in the family, because the family serves as a miniature of society. Society is only the integration of numerous family units, but the absence of the blood-­tie between these units, the absence of recognised common interests and common objects, makes it necessary to find some bond which will supply the place of the natural bonds in the family. The family units in a Society appear on the surface as rivals, rather than as brothers and sisters; hence the Hate-Emotion is more likely to rise than the Love-Emotion, and it is necessary to find some way of maintaining harmony; this is done by the transmuta­tion of Love-Emotions into virtues.

 

3. THE BIRTH OF VIRTUES.

 

We have seen that when members of a family pass beyond the small circle of relatives, and meet people whose interests are either indifferent or opposed to them, there is not between them and the others the mutual interplay of Love. Rather does [361] Hate show itself, ranging from the watch­ful attitude of suspicion to the destroying fury of war. How then is a society to be composed of the separate family units?

It can only be done by making per­manent all the emotional moods which spring from Love, and by eradicating those which spring from Hate. A per­manent mood of a love-emotion directed towards a living being is a Virtue; a permanent mood of a hate-emotion directed against a living being is a Vice. This change is wrought by the Intellect, which bestows on the emotion a permanent character, seeking harmony in all relations in order that happiness may result. That which conduces to harmony and therefore to happiness in the family, springing spontaneously from Love, is Virtue when practised towards all in every relation of life. Virtue springs from Love and its result is happiness. So also that which conduces to disharmony and therefore to misery in the family, springing spon­taneously from Hate, is Vice when practised towards all in all relations of life. [362]

An objection is raised to this theory, that the permanent mood of a love­-emotion is a virtue, by pointing out that adultery, theft, and other vices may spring from the love-emotion. Here analysis of the elements entering into, the mental attitude is necessary. It is complex, not simple. The act of adultery is motived by love, but not by love alone. There enter into it also contempt of the honour of another, indifference to the happiness of another, the selfish grasping at personal pleasure at the cost of social stability, social honour, social decency. All these spring from hate-emotions. The love is the one redeeming feature in the whole transaction, the one virtue in the bundle of sordid vices. Similar analysis will always show that when the exercise of a love-emotion is wrong, the wrongness lies in the vices bound up with its exercise, and not in the love-emotion itself.

 

4. RIGHT AND WRONG.

 

Let us now turn, for a moment, to the question of Right and Wrong, and see the [363] relation they bear to bliss and misery. For there is an idea widely current that there is something low and materialistic in the view that virtue is the means to bliss. Many thinly that this idea degrades virtue, giving it the second place where it should hold the first, and making it a means instead of an end. Let us then see why virtue must be the path to bliss, and how this inheres in the nature of things.

When the Intellect studies the world, and sees the innumerable relations estab­lished therein, and observes that har­monious relations bring about happiness, and that jarring relations bring about misery, it sets to work to find out the way of establishing universal harmony and hence universal bliss. Further, it dis­covers that the world is moving along a path which it is compelled to tread - the path of evolution, and it finds out the law of evolution. For a part, a unit, to set itself with the law of the whole to which it belongs means peace, harmony, and there­fore happiness, while for it to set itself against that law means friction, [364] disharmony, and therefore misery. Hence the Right is that which, being in harmony with the great law, brings bliss, and the Wrong is that which, being in conflict with the great law, brings misery. When the intellect, illuminated by the Spirit, sees nature as an expression of divine Thought, the law of evolution as an expression of the divine Will, the goal as an expression of divine Bliss, then for harmony with the law of evolution we may substitute harmony with the divine Will, and the Right becomes that which is in harmony with the Will of God, and morality becomes permeated with religion.

 

5. VIRTUE AND BLISS.

 

Perfection, harmony with the divine Will, cannot be separated from bliss. Virtue is the road to bliss, and if anything does not lead there it is not virtue. The perfection of the divine nature expresses itself in harmony, and when the scattered “divine fragments” come into harmony they taste bliss.

This fact is sometimes veiled by [365] another, i.e., that the practice of a virtue under certain circumstances brings about misery. That is true, but the misery is temporary and superficial, and the balance between that outer misery and the inner bliss arising from the virtuous conduct, is in favour of the latter; and further, the misery is not due to the virtue but to the circumstances which oppose its practice, to the friction between the good organism and the evil environment. So when you strike a harmonious chord amid a mass of discords, for a moment it increases the discord. The virtuous man is thrown into conflict with evil, but this should not blind us to the fact that bliss is ever wedded indissolubly to Right and misery to Wrong. Even though the righteous may suffer temporarily, nothing but righteous­ness can lead to bliss. And if we examine the consciousness of the righteous, we find that he is happier in doing the right though superficial pain may result, than in doing the wrong which would ruffle the inner peace. The commission of a wrong act would cause him inner anguish out­weighing the external pleasure. Even in [366] the case where righteousness leads to external suffering, the suffering is less than would be caused by unrighteousness. Miss Helen Taylor has well said that for the man who dies for the sake of truth, death is easier than life with falsehood. It is easier and pleasanter for the righteous man to die as a martyr, than to live as a hypocrite.

Since the nature of the Self is bliss, and that bliss is only hindered in manifestation by resisting circumstances, that which removes the friction between itself and these circumstances and opens its onward way must lead to its Self-realisation, i.e., to the realisation of bliss. Virtue does this, and therefore virtue is a means to bliss. Where the inner nature of things is peace and joy, the harmony which permits that nature to unveil itself must bring peace and joy, and to bring about this harmony is the work of virtue.

 

6. THE TRANSMUTATION OF EMOTIONS INTO VIRTUES AND VICES.

 

We have now to see more fully the truth of what was said above, that virtue [367] grows out of emotion, and how far it is true that a virtue or a vice is merely a permanent mood of an emotion. Our definition is that virtue is a permanent mood of the love-emotion, and vice a permanent mood of the hate-emotion.

The emotions belonging to love are the constructive energies which, drawing people together, build up the family, the tribe, the nation. Love is a manifestation of attraction, and hence holds objects together. This process of integration begins with the family; and the relations established between its members in the common life of the family entail, if there is to be happiness, the acting towards each other in a helpful and kindly way. The obligations necessary for the estab­lishment of happiness in these relations are called duties, that which is due from one to the other. If these duties are not discharged the family relations become a source of misery, since the close contacts of the family make the happiness of each dependent on the treatment of him by the others. No relation can be entered into between human beings which does not [368] establish an obligation between them, a duty of each towards the other. The husband loves the wife, the wife the husband, and nothing more is needed to lead each to seek the other’s happiness than the intense spontaneous wish to make the beloved happy. This leads the one who can give to supply what the other needs. In the fullest sense, “love is the fulfilling of the law”[84]; there is no need for the feeling of an obligation, for love seeks ever to help and to bless, and there is no need for “thou shalt”, or “thou shalt not”.

But when a person, moved by love to discharge all the duties of his relation with another, comes into relation with those he does not love, how is a harmonious relation with them to be established? By recognising the obliga­tions of the relation into which he has entered, and discharging them. The doings which grew out of love in the one case present themselves as obliga­tions, as duties, in the other, where love is not present. Right reason works the [369] spontaneous actions of love into per­manent obligations, or duties, and the love-emotion, made a permanent element of conduct, is called a virtue. This is the justification of the statement that a virtue is the permanent mood of a love­-emotion. A permanent state of emotion is established which will show itself when a relation is made; the man discharges the duties of that relation; he is a virtuous man. He is moved by emotions made per­manent by the intellect, which recognises that happiness depends on the establish­ment of harmony in all relations. Love, rationalised and fixed by the intellect, is virtue.

In this way may be built up a science of ethics, of which the laws are as much an inevitable sequence as those on which any other science is built.

So also between the hate-emotion and vices there is a similar relation. The permanent mood of a hate-emotion is a vice. One person injures another, and the second returns the injury; the relation between these two is inharmonious, pro­ductive of misery. And as each expects [370] injury from the other, each tries to weaken the other’s power to inflict injury, and this is the spontaneous action of hate. When this mood becomes permanent, and a man shows it in any relation into which he enters wherein the opportunity for its manifestation arises, then it is called a vice. A man of uncontrolled passions and undeveloped nature strikes a blow, a spontaneous expression of hate. He repeats this often, and it becomes habitual when he is angry. He inflicts pain and takes pleasure in the infliction. The vice of cruelty is developed, and if he meets a child or a person weaker than himself, he will show cruelty merely because he comes into relation with them. As the love-emotion, guided and fixed by right reason, is virtue, so the hate-emotion, guided and fixed by distorted and blinded reason, is vice.

 

7. APPLICATION OF THE THEORY TO CONDUCT.

 

When the nature of virtue and vice is thus seen, it is clear that the shortest way of strengthening the virtues and [372] eliminating the vices is to work directly on the emotional side of the character. We can strive to develop the love-­emotion, thus affording the material which the reason will elaborate into its charac­teristic virtues. The development of the love-emotion is the most effective way of evolving the moral character, virtues being but the blossoms and the fruits which spring from the root of love.

The value of this clear view of the transmutation of emotions into virtues and vices lies in the fact that it gives us a definite theory on which we can work; it is as though we were seeking a distant place, and a map were placed before our eyes; we trace thereon the road which leads from our present position to our goal. So many really good and earnest people spend years in vague aspirations after goodness, and yet make but little progress; they are good in purpose but weak in attainment; this is chiefly because they do not understand the nature in which they are working, and the best methods for its culture. They are like a [372] child in a garden, a child eager to see his garden brilliant with flowers, but without the knowledge to plant and cultivate them, and to exterminate the weeds which overgrow his plot. Like the child, they long for the sweetness of the virtue-flowers, and find their garden overrun with the rank growth of the weeds of vice.

 

8. THE USES OF EMOTION.

 

The uses of the love-emotion are so obvious that it seems scarcely necessary to dwell upon them, and yet too much stress cannot be laid on the fact that love is the constructive force in the universe. Having drawn together the family units, it welds these into larger tribal and national units, and these it will build in the future into the Brotherhood of Man. Nor must we omit to note the fact that the smaller units draw out the love-power and prepare it for fuller expression. Their use is to call into manifestation the hidden divine power of love within the Spirit, by giving to it objects close at hand that attract it. The love is not to be confined [373] within these narrow limits, but, as it gains strength by practice, it is to spread outwards until it embraces all sentient beings. We may formulate the law of love: Regard every aged person as your father or mother; regard every person of similar age as your brother or sister; regard every younger person as your child. This sums up human relations. The fulfilment of this law would render earth a paradise, and it is in order that the earth may become such a paradise that the family exists.

A man who would widen his love-rela­tions should begin to regard the welfare of his community as he regards the welfare of his own family. He should try to work for the public good of his community with the energy and interest with which he works for his family. Later, he will extend his loving interest and labour to his nation. Then appears the great virtue of public spirit, the sure precursor of national prosperity. Later still, he will love and labour for humanity, and finally he will embrace within his loving care all sentient beings, and will become “the friend of every creature”. [374]

Few, at the present stage of evolution, are really able to love humanity, and too many speak of loving humanity who are not ready to make any sacrifice to help a suffering brother or sister close at hand. The servant of humanity must not over­look the human beings at his door, nor in imagination water with sentimental sym­pathy the distant garden, while the plants round his doorway are dying from drought.

The uses of hate are not at first so obvious, but are none the less important. At first, when we study hate and see that its essence is disintegration, destruction, it may seem all evil; “He who hateth his brother is a murderer,” saith a great Teacher[85], because murder is but an expression of hate; and even when hate does not go so far as murder, it is still a destroying force; it breaks up the family, the nation, and wherever it goes it tears people apart. Of what use, then, is hate?

First, it drives apart incongruous elements, unfit to combine together, and thus prevents continuing friction. Where incongruous undeveloped people are [375] concerned, it is better for them to be driven far apart to pursue their several paths in evolution, than to be kept within reach of one another, stimulating each other to increased bad emotions. Secondly, the repulsion felt by the average soul for an evil person is beneficial, so long as that evil person has the power of leading him astray; for that repulsion, although it be hate, guards him from an influence under which he might otherwise succumb. Contempt for the liar, the hypocrite, the worker of cruelty on the weak, is an emotion useful to the one who feels it, and also to the one against whom it is directed; for it tends to preserve the one from falling into similar vices, and it tends to arouse in the despised person a feeling of shame that may lift him from the mire in which he is plunged. So long as a person has any tendency to a sin, so long is hatred against those who practise the sin protective and useful. Presently, as he evolves, he will distinguish between the evil­doer and the evil, and will pity the [376] evil-doer and confine his hatred to the evil. Later still, secure in virtue, he will hate neither the evil-doer nor his evil, but will see tranquilly a low stage of evolution, out of which he will strive to lift his younger brother by fitting means. “Righteous indignation”, “noble scorn”, “just wrath”, all are  phrases which recognise the usefulness of these emotions, while seeking to veil the fact that they are essentially forms of hate - a veiling which is due to the feeling that hate is an evil thing. None the less are they essentially forms of hate, whatever they may be called, though they play a useful part in evolution, and their storms purify the social atmosphere. Intolerance, of evil is far better than indifference to it, and until a man is beyond the reach of temptation to any given sin, intolerance of those who practise it is for him a necessary safeguard.

Let us take the case of a man little evolved; he desires to avoid gross sins, but yet feels tempted to them. The desire to avoid them will show itself as hatred of those in whom he sees them; to check this hatred would be to plunge him into temptations he is not yet strong enough to resist. As he evolves further and further [377] from the danger of yielding to temptation, he will hate the sins, but will pityingly sympathise with the sinner. Not till he has become a saint can he afford not to hate the evil.

When in ourselves we feel repulsion from a person we may be sure that we have in us some lingering traces of that which we dis­like in him. The Ego, seeing a danger, drags his vehicles away. A man, perfectly temperate, feels less repulsion towards the drunkard than a temperate man who occa­sionally exceeds. A woman, utterly pure, feels no repulsion from a fallen sister, from whose contact the less pure would withdraw their skirts. When we reach perfection, we shall love the sinner as well as the saint, and perchance may show the love more to the sinner, since the saint can stand alone, but the sinner will fall if he be not loved.

When the man has risen to the point where he hates neither sinner nor sin, then the disintegrating force - which is hate among human beings - becomes simply an energy to be used for destroying the obstacles which embarrass the path of evolution. When perfected wisdom guides [378] the constructive and destructive energies, and perfected love is the motive power, then only can the destructive force be used without incurring the root-sin of the feeling of separateness. To feel ourselves different from others is the “great heresy”, for separateness, when the whole is evolving towards unity, is opposition to the Law. The feeling of separateness is definitely wrong, whether it leads to one’s thinking oneself more righteous or more sinful. The perfect saint identifies himself with the criminal as much as with another saint, for the criminal and the saint are alike divine, although in different stages of evolution.  When a man can feel thus, he touches the life of the Christ in man. He does not think of himself as separate, but as one with all. To him his own holiness is the holiness of humanity, and the sin of any is his sin. He builds no barrier between himself and the sinner, but pulls down any barrier made by the sinner, and shares the sinner’s evil while sharing with him his good.

Those who can feel the truth of this “counsel of perfection” should, in their [379] daily lives, seek to practise it, however imperfectly. In dealing with the less advanced, they should ever seek to level the dividing wall. For the sense of separateness is subtle, and endures till we achieve Christhood. Yet by this effort we may gradually lessen it, and to strive to identify ourselves with the lowest is to exercise the constructive energy which holds the worlds together, and to become channels for the divine love. [380]

 

CHAPTER V.

 

EMOTION (continued).

 

 

1. THE TRAINING OF EMOTION.

 

EMOTION is, we have seen, the motive power in man: it stimulates thought; it impels to action; it is as steam to the engine; without it man would be inert, passive. But there are many who are the continual prey of their emotions; who are hurried hither and thither by emotions, as a rudderless ship by stormy winds upon the ocean; who are tossed high and dragged low by surges of joyous and painful feelings; who alternate between exaltation and despair. Such a person is swayed, subju­gated by emotions, continually harassed by their conflict. He is more or less a chaos within, and is erratic in his outward actions, moved by the impulse of the moment, without due consideration for surrounding [381] circumstances, such consideration as would make his actions well-directed. He is often what is called a good person, inspired by generous motives, stirred into kindly actions, full of sympathy with suffering and eager to bring relief, plunging quickly into action intended to aid the sufferer. We have not here to do with the indifferent or the cruel, but with one whose emotions hurry him into action, before he has considered the conditions or forecast the results of his activity, beyond the immediate relief of the pain before his view. Such a person - though moved by a desire to help, though the stimulating emotion is sympathy and desire to relieve suffering -often does more harm than good in consequence of the inconsiderateness of his action. The emotion which impels him springs from the love-side of his nature, from the side which draws people together, and which is the root of the constructive and preserving virtues; and in this very fact lies the danger of such a person. If the emotion had its root in evil, he would be the first to eradicate it; but just because it is rooted in that love-emotion whence spring all the [382] social virtues, he does not suspect it, he does not endeavour to control it. “I am so sympathetic; I am so much moved by suffering; I cannot bear the sight of misery.” In all such phrases, a certain self-praise is implied, though the tone may be one of deprecation. Truly, sympathy is admirable, Qua sympathy, but its ill­-directed exercise is often provocative of mischief. Sometimes it injures the very object of sympathy, and leaves him finally in worse case than at first. Too often unwise forms of relief are adopted, more to remove the pain of the sympathiser than to cure the ill of the sufferer, and a momentary pang is stopped at the cost of a lasting injury, really, though not avowedly, to relieve the pain of the onlooker. The re-action of sympathy on the sympathetic person is good, deepening the love­-emotion; but the action on others is too often bad, owing to the lack of balanced thought. It is easy, at the sight of pain, to fill earth and sky with our shrieks, till all the air is throbbing; it is hard to pause,  to measure the cause of pain and the cure, and then to apply a remedy which heals [383] instead of perpetuating. Right season must govern and direct emotion, if good is to result from its exercise. Emotion should be the impulse to action, but not its director; direction belongs to the intelli­gence, and its guiding prerogative should never be wrenched away from it. Where the consciousness thus works, having strong emotion as the impulse, and right reason as director, there is the sympathetic and wise man who is useful to his generation.

Desires have been well compared to horses harnessed to the chariot of the body, and desires are rooted in emotions. Where the emotions are uncontrolled they are like plunging, unbroken horses that imperil the safety of the chariot and threaten the life of the charioteer. The reins have been compared to the mind, the reins that guide the horses, restraining or loosening as is needed. There is well imaged the relation­ship between emotion, intelligence, and action. Emotion gives the movement, intelligence controls and guides, and then the Self will, use activity to the best advantage, as becomes the ruler of the emotions, not their victim. [384]

With the development of that aspect of consciousness which will show itself as Buddhi in the sixth sub-race, and more completely in the sixth Root-Race, the emotional nature rapidly evolves in some of the advanced fifth Race, and often, for a time, offers many troublesome and even distressing symptoms. As evolution pro­ceeds, these will be outgrown, and the nature will become balanced as well as strong, wise as well as generous; mean­while the rapidly developing nature will be stormy and often distressful, and will suffer keenly and long. Yet in those very sufferings lies its future strength as its present purification, and in proportion to the sharpness of the sufferings will be the greatness of the result. It is in these powerful natures that Buddhi is struggling to birth, and the anguish of the travail is upon them. Presently Buddhi, the Christ, the “little child”, will be born, Wisdom and Love in one, and this, united to high intelli­gence, is the spiritual Ego, the true Inner Man, the Ruler Immortal.

The student, who is studying his own nature in order to take his own evolution [385] in hand and direct its future course, must carefully observe his own strength and his own weakness, in order to regulate the one and correct the other. In unevenly developed persons intellect and emotion are apt to vary in inverse ratio to each other; strong emotions go with weak intelligence, and strong intelligence with weak emotions; in one case the directing power is weak, in the other the motive. The student, then, in his self-analysis, must see whether his intelligence is well­-developed, if he finds his emotions to be strong; he must test himself to discover whether he is unwilling to look at things in “the clear dry light of intellect”; if he feels repelled when a subject is presented to him in this light, he may rest assured that the emotional side of his nature is over-developed in proportion to the intellectual side. For the well-balanced man would resent neither the clear light of the directive intelligence, nor the strong force of the motive emotion. If, in the past, one side has been over-cultivated, if the emotions have been fostered to the detri­ment of the intelligence, then the efforts [386] should be turned to the strengthening of the intellect, and the resentment which arises against a coldly intellectual presenta­tion should be sternly curbed, the difference between intelligence and sympathy being recognised.

 

2. THE DISTORTING FORCE OF EMOTION.

 

One of the things most apt to be over­looked by the emotional person is the way in which emotion fills his surrounding atmosphere with its vibrations, and thereby biasses the intelligence; everything is seen through this atmosphere, and is coloured and distorted by it, so that things do not reach the intelligence in their true form and colour, but arrive twisted and dis­coloured. Our aura surrounds us, and should be a pellucid medium through which all in the outer world should reach us in its own form and colour; but when the aura is vibrating with emotion it cannot act as such a medium, and all is refracted that passes into it, and reaches us quite other than it is. If a person is under water and a stick is put near him [387] in the air, and he tries to touch it, his hand will be wrongly directed, for he will put his hand to the place at which he sees the stick, and as the rays coming from it are refracted on entering the water, the stick will be, for him, displaced. Similarly when an impression from the outer world reaches us through an aura over-charged with emotion, its proportions are distorted, and its position misjudged; hence the data supplied to the intelligence are erroneous, and the judgment founded upon them will therefore necessarily be wrong, however accurately the intelligence may work.

Even the most careful self-analysis will not entirely protect us against this emotional disturbance. The intellect ever tends to judge favourably that which we like, unfavourably that which we dislike, owing to the “refraction” above-named. The arguments in favour of a certain course are thrown into a strong light by our desire to follow it, and the arguments against it are thrown into the shade. The one seems so clear and forcible, the other so dubious and feeble. And to our [388] mind, seeing through the emotion, it is so sure that we are right, and that anyone, who does not see as we do, is biassed by prejudice or is wilfully perverse. Against this ever-present danger, we can only guard by care and persistent effort, but we cannot finally escape it until we transcend the emotions, and become abso­lutely their ruler.

One way remains in which we can aid ourselves to a right judgment, and that is by studying the workings of conscious­ness in others, and in weighing their decisions under circumstances similar to our own. The judgments which most repel us are those most likely to be useful to us, because made through an emotional medium very different from our own. We can compare their decisions with ours, and by noting the points that affect them most and ourselves least, and that weigh most heavily with us and most lightly with them, we may disentangle the emotional from the intellectual elements in the judgments. And even where our con­clusions are mistaken, the effort to arrive at them is corrective and illuminative; it [389] aids in the mastery of the emotions, and strengthens the intellectual element. Such studies should of course be made when there is no emotional disturbance, and its fruits should be stored up for use at the times when the emotions are strong.

 

3. METHODS OF RULING THE EMOTIONS.

 

The first and most powerful method for obtaining mastery of the emotions is - as in all that touches consciousness - ­Meditation. Before contact with the world has disturbed the emotions, medita­tion should be resorted to. Coming back into the body after the period of physical sleep, from a world subtler than the physical, the Ego will find his tenement quiet, and can take possession calmly of the rested brain and nerves. Meditation later in the day, when the emotions have been disturbed, and when they are in full activity, is not as efficacious. The quiet time which is available after sleep is the right season for effective meditation, the desire-body, the emotional nature, being more tranquil than after it has [390] plunged into the bustle of the world. From that peaceful morning hour will stream out the influence which will guard during the day, and the emotions, soothed and stilled, will be more amenable to control.

Where it is possible, it is well to forecast the questions which may arise during the day, and to come to conclusions as to the view to be taken, the conduct to be pursued. If we know that we shall be placed under certain conditions that will arouse our emotions, we can decide before­hand on our mental attitude, and even come to a, decision on our action. Supposing such a decision has been reached, then when the circumstances arise, that decision should be recalled and acted upon, even though the swell of the emotions may impel towards a different course. For instance, we are going to meet a person for whom we have a strong affection, and we decide in our meditation on the course that it is wisest to pursue, deciding in the clear light of calm intel­ligence what is best for all concerned. To this decision we should adhere, even [391] though there is the inclination to feel: “I had not given the proper weight to that view”. As a matter of fact, under these conditions, overweight is given, the proper weight having been given in the calmer thought; and it is the wisest plan to follow the path previously chalked out despite the emotional promptings of the moment. There may be a blunder of judgment, but if the blunder be not seen during meditation it is not likely to be seen during a swirl of emotions.

Another method of curbing the emotions is to think over what is going to be said, before speaking, to put a bridle on the tongue. The man who has learned to control his speech has conquered every­thing, says an ancient eastern law-giver. The person who never speaks a sharp or ill-considered word is well on the way to control emotion. To rule speech is to rule the whole nature. It is a good plan not to speak - to deliberately check speech - until one is clear as to what one is going to say, is sure that the speech is true, that it is adapted to the person to whom it is to be addressed, and that it is such as ought to [392] be spoken. Truth comes first and foremost, and nothing can excuse falsity of speech; many a speech uttered under stress of emotion is false, either from exaggeration or distortion. Then, the appropriateness of the speech to the person addressed is too often forgotten, in the hurry of emotion, or the eagerness of strong feeling. A quite wrong idea of a great truth may be presented, if the point of view of the person addressed is not borne in mind; sympathy is needed, the seeing as he sees, for only then can the truth be useful and helpful. One is not trying to help oneself, but to help another, in putting the truth before him. Perhaps the conception of law as changeless, inviolable, absolutely impartial, may, to the speaker, be inspiring, strengthening, uplifting; whereas that con­ception is ruthless and crushing to an undeveloped person, and injures instead of helps. Truth is not meant to crush, but to elevate, and we misuse truth when we give it to one that is not ready. There is plenty to suit the needs of each, but discretion is needed to choose wisely, and enthusiasm must not force a premature enlightenment. [393] Many a young Theosophist does more harm than good by his over-eager pressing on others of the treasures he prizes so highly. Lastly, the form of the speech, the necessity or the usefulness of its utterance, should be considered. A truth that might help may be changed into a truth that hinders by the way in which it is put. “Never speak what is untrue, never speak what is unpleasant”, is a golden rule of speech. All speech should be truthful, sweet and agreeable.  This agreeableness of speech is too often forgotten by well-meaning people, who even pride themselves on their candour, when they are merely rude and indifferent to the feelings of those whom they address. But that is neither good breeding nor religion, for the unmannerly is not the religious. Religion combines perfect truth with perfect courtesy. Moreover, the superfluous, the useless, is mischievous, and there is much injury done by the continual bubbling over of frivolous emotions in chatter and small talk. People who cannot bear silence, and are ever chattering, fritter away their intellectual and moral forces, as well as give utterance to a hundred follies, [394] better left unsaid. To be afraid of silence is a sign of mental weakness, and calm silence is better than foolish speech. In silence the emotions grow and strengthen, while remaining controlled, and thus the motive power of the nature increases and is also brought into subjection. The power of being silent is great, and often exercises a most soothing effect; on the other hand, he who has learned to be silent must be careful that his silence does not trench on his courtesy, that he does not, by inappro­priate silence among others, make them feel chilled and uncomfortable.

Some may fear that such a consideration before speech as is outlined may so hinder exchange of thought as to paralyse conver­sation; but all who have practised such control will bear witness that, after a brief practice, no noticeable interval is caused before the reply is uttered. Swifter than lightning is the movement of the intel­ligence, and it will flash over the points to be considered while a breath is being drawn. It is true, that at first there will be slight hesitation, but in a few weeks no pause will be required, and the review of [395] the proposed utterance will be made too swiftly to cause any obstruction. Many an orator can testify that, in the rapid torrent of a declamatory period, the mind will sit at ease, turning about alternative sentences and weighing their respective merits ere one is chosen and the rest are cast aside; and yet none in the rapt audience will know aught of this by-play, or dream that behind the swift utterance there is any such selec­tive action going on.

A third method of mastering emotion is by refraining from acting on impulse. The hurry to act is characteristic of the modern mind, and is the excess of the promptitude which is its virtue. When we consider life calmly we realise that there is never any need for hurry; there is always time enough, and action, however swift, should be well considered and unhurried. When an impulse comes from some strong emotion, and we spring forward in obedience, without consideration, we act unwisely. If we train ourselves to think, before we act in all ordinary affairs, then if an accident or anything else should happen in which prompt action is [396] necessary, the swift mind will balance up the demands of the moment and direct swift action, but there will be no hurry, no inconsiderate unwise blundering.

“But should I not follow my intuition?” some one may ask. Impulse and intuition are too often confused, though radically different in origin and characteristics. Impulse springs from the desire-nature, from the consciousness working through the astral body, and is an energy flung out­wards in response to a stimulus from outside, an energy undirected by the intelligence, hasty, unconsidered, headlong. Intuition springs from the spiritual Ego, and is an energy flowing outwards to meet a demand from outside, an energy directed by the spiritual Ego, strong, calm, pur­poseful. For distinguishing between the two, until the nature is thoroughly balanced, calm consideration is necessary, and delay is essential; an impulse dies away under such consideration and delay; an intuition grows clearer and stronger under such conditions; calmness enables the lower mind to hear it, and to feel its serene imperiousness. Moreover, if what [397] seems to be an intuition is really a suggestion from some higher Being, that suggestion will sound the louder for our quiet meditation, and will lose nothing of  force by such calm delay.

It is true that there is a certain pleasure in the abandonment to the headlong impulse, and that the imposed restraint is painful for a time. But the effort to lead the higher life is full of these renounceals of pleasure and acceptances of pain, and gradually we come to feel that there is a higher joy in the quiet considerate action than in the yielding to the tumultuous impulse, and that we have eliminated a constant source of regret. For constantly does such yielding prove a source of sorrow, and the impulse is found to be a mistake. If the proposed action be good, the purpose to perform it will be made stronger, not weaker, by careful thought. And if the purpose grows weaker with the thinking, then is it sure that it comes from the lower source, not from the higher.

Daily meditation, careful consideration before speech, the refusal to yield to impulse, these are the chief methods of [398] turning the emotions into useful servants instead of dangerous masters.

 

4. THE USING OF EMOTION.

 

Only he can use an emotion who has become its master, and who knows that the emotions are not himself but are playing in the vehicles in which he dwells, and are due to the interaction between the Self and the Not-Self. Their ever­-changing nature marks them as belonging to the vehicles; they are stirred into activity by things without, answered to by the consciousness within. The attribute of consciousness that gives rise to emotions is Bliss, and pleasure and pain are the motions in the desire-vehicle caused by the contacts of the outer world, and by the response through it to these of the Self as Bliss; just as thoughts are the motions due to similar contacts and to the response to them of the Self as Knowledge. As the Self knows itself, and distinguishes itself from its vehicles, it becomes ruler of the emotions, and pleasure and pain become equally modes of Bliss. [399]

As progress is made, it will be found that greater equilibrium is attained under stress of pleasure and pain, and that the emotions no longer upset the balance of the mind. So long as pleasure elates, and pain paralyses, so that the performance of duty is hindered and hampered, so long is a man the slave, and not the ruler, of his emotions. When he has learned to rule them, the greatest wave of pleasure, the keenest sting of pain, can be felt, and yet the mind will remain steady and address itself calmly to the work in hand. Then whatever comes is turned into use. Out of pain is gained power, as out of pleasure are gained vitality and courage. All become forces to help, instead of obstacles to hinder.

Of these uses oratory may serve as an illustration. You hear a man fired by passion, his words tumbling over each other, his gestures violent; he is possessed by, carried away by, emotion, but he does not sway his audience. The orator who sways is the master of his emotions and uses them to affect his audience; his words are deliberate and well-chosen even in the [400] rush of his speech, his gestures appropriate and dignified. He is not feeling the emotions, but he has felt them, and he now uses his past to shape the present. In proportion as a speaker has felt and has risen above his emotions will be his power to use them. No one without strong emotions can be a great speaker; but the greatness grows as the emotions are brought under control. A more effective explosion results from a careful arrangement of the explosives and a deliberate application of the match, than by flinging them down anyhow, and the match after them, in the hope that some­thing may catch.

So long as anyone is stirred by the emotions, the clear vision needed for helpful service is blurred. The valuable helper is the man who is calm and balanced, while full of sympathy. What sort of a doctor would he be who, in the midst of performing an operation, should burst into tears? Yet many people are so distressed by the sight of suffering that their whole being is shaken by it, and they thus increase the suffering instead [401] of relieving it. All emotion causes strong vibrations, and these pass from one to another. The effective helper must be calm and steady, remaining unshaken and radiating peace. One who stands on a rock above the waves can help another to gain that vantage-ground better than if he were himself battling with the waves.

Another use of the emotions when they are thoroughly in hand is to call up and use the appropriate one to rouse in another person an emotion beneficial to him. If a person be angry, the natural answer to his vibrations is anger in the one he meets, for all vibrations tend to be sympathetically reproduced. As we all have emotion­-bodies, any body vibrating near us in a particular way tends to cause similar vibrations in us, if we have in our bodies the appropriate matter. Anger awakens anger, love awakens love, gentleness awakens gentleness. When we are masters of our emotions, and feel the surge of anger rising in response to the vibrations of anger in another, we shall at once check this answer, and shall let [402] the waves of anger dash up against us, while we remain unmoved. The man who can hold his own emotion-body quiet, while those of others are vibrating strongly around him, has learned well the lesson of self-control. When this is done, he is ready to take the next step, to meet the vibration of an evil emotion with the vibration of the corresponding good emotion, and thus he not only withholds himself from anger, but sends out vibra­tions that tend to quiet the anger­ vibrations of the other. He answers anger by love, wrath by gentleness.

At first, this answer must be deliberate, of set purpose, and angry people can be taken to practise on. When one comes in our way, we utilise him. The attempt will be, doubtless, cold and dry in the begin­ning, with only the will to love in it and none of the emotion; but after a while, the will to love will produce a little emotion, and at last a habit will be established, and kindness will be the spontaneous answer to unkindness. The steady, deliberate prac­tice of answering thus the vibrations of wrong emotions reaching us from outside [403] will establish a habit in the emotion­-body, and it will respond rightly auto­matically.

The teaching of all the great Masters of Ethics is the same: “Return good for evil”. And the teaching is based on this interchange of vibrations, caused by love­ and hate-emotions. The return of evil intensifies it, while the return of good neutralises the evil. To stir love-emotions in others by sending to them a stream of such emotions, so as to stimulate all that is good in them and to weaken all that is bad, is the highest use to which we can put our emotions in daily human service. It is a good plan to bear in mind a list of correspondences in emotions, and to practise accordingly, answering pride by humility, discourtesy by compassion, arro­gance by submission, harshness by gentle­ness, irritability by calmness. Thus is a nature built up which answers all evil emotions by the corresponding good ones, and which acts as a benediction on all around, lessening the evil in them and strengthening the good. [404]

 

5. THE VALUE OF EMOTION IN EVOLUTION.

 

We have seen that emotion is the motive power in man, and to turn it into a helper in evolution we must utilise it to lift and not allow it to degrade. The Ego, in his evolution, needs “points to draw him” upwards, as says the Voice of the Silence, for the upward way is steep, and an attractive object above us, towards which we can strive, is an aid impossible to over-estimate. Only too often we lag on the way, and feel no desire to proceed; aspiration is inert, the longing to rise has fled. Then may we summon emotion to our aid, by twining it around some object of devotion, and thus gain the impetus we need, the lifting force we crave.

This form of emotion is what is often called hero-worship, the power to admire and love greatly one who is nobler than oneself, and to be able thus to love and admire is to have at disposal one of the great lifting forces in human evolution. Hero-worship is often decried because a perfect ideal is not possible to find among men living in the world, but a partial ideal [405] that can be loved and emulated is a help in quickening evolution. It is true that there  will be weaknesses in such a partial ideal, and it is necessary to distinguish between the heroic qualities and the weaknesses found in conjunction with them; but the attention should be fixed on the heroic qualities that stimulate, and not on the blemishes that mar everyone who has not as yet transcended humanity. To recog­nise that the weaknesses are of the Not-Self and are passing, while the nobility is of the Self that endures, to love what is great, and to be able to pass over what is small, that is the spirit that leads to discipleship of the Great Ones. Only good is gained by the hero-worshipper from his ideal, if he honour the greatness and disregard the weakness, and on the hero himself will fall the karma of his own shortcomings.

But it is said: if we thus recognise the nobility of the Self in the midst of human weaknesses, we are only doing what we should do with all, and why make a hero out of anyone in whom there is still any human weakness? Because of the help [406] our hero gives us as an inspiration and a measure of our own achievement. No ordinary person can be turned into a hero; it is only when the Self shines out with more than ordinary lustre that the inclina­tion to hero-worship arises. The man is a hero, though not yet super-human, and his weaknesses are but as spots in the sun. There is a proverb which says: “No man is a hero to his valet-de-chambre,” and the cynic reads this as meaning that the most heroic man owes his greatness to distance. But is not the meaning rather that the valet-soul, intent on the shine of a boot and the set of a necktie, cannot appreciate that which makes the hero, having naught in him that can sound sympathetically with the notes the hero strikes? For to be able to admire means to be able to achieve, and love and reverence for the great is a sign that a man is growing like them.

When emotion is thus aroused, we should judge ourselves by our ideal, and be ashamed to do or think aught that would bring a shade of sorrow over the eyes of him we revere. His presence should be with us, as an up-lifter, until, judging [407] ourselves in the light of the greater achieve­ment, we find ourselves also beginning to achieve.

That the pure light of the Self shines through none who walk the miry paths of earth is true, but there are some through whom enough light shines to lighten the darkness, and to help us to see where to plant our feet. It is better to thank and honour these, to rejoice and be glad in them, than to belittle them because they are not wholly of heaven, because some touches of human weakness still entangle their feet. Blessed indeed are they who have in themselves the hero-nature and hence recognise their elder kin; for them waits the open gate to the upper reaches, and the more they love, the more they honour, the swifter will be their approach to that gateway. No better karma comes to a man than to find the hero who may bear him company to the entering; no sadder karma than to have seen him, in an illuminated moment, and then to have cast him aside, blinded by an imperfection he is out-growing. [408]

 

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2007-10-17