Leibniz and Locke on Modes of Pleasure and Pain Markku Roinila Passionate Minds: Knowledge and the Emotions in Intellectual History Bucharest 26. – 28. 5. 2011 Chapter xx of book II of John Locke’s An Essay Concerning Human Understanding (henceforth E) discusses emotions or passions which to Locke are modes of pleasure and pain. Despite its brevity (the chapter consists of only four and a half pages in the Nidditch edition) it is arguably the most extensive discussion of passions available in Locke’s corpus. The same applies to Leibniz’s commentary of Locke’s work in dialogue form, Nouveaux essais sur l’entedement humain or New Essays on Human Understanding (NE). In addition, they offer a very interesting and captivating discussion of moral philosophy and the good life. Uneasiness and disquiet I will start with the concept of uneasiness which is in the centre of the discussion between the philosophers. In NE II, xx, §6 Locke’s spokesperson, Philalethes goes on to discuss how pleasure and pain affect our behaviour. He argues that the chief if not the only motive for human action is uneasiness which a man finds in himself upon the absence of any thing he draws his delight from. In other words, uneasiness is equivalent to desire in the sense that if a man has no desire for a certain good, he does not feel uneasiness. While delight is drawn from the present good, uneasiness is desire for the absent good. If the moral agent can be easy and content without the proposed absent good, he senses bare velleity (wish) which is almost an indifferent state, but not quite. It is more like the lowest degree of desire. If the desired good is impossible to obtain, the uneasiness is also “cured”. Locke contrasts uneasiness with delight. Positive emotion such as love or joy is a delight of the mind whereas hate or sorrow is described as uneasiness. He says: “Delight, or uneasiness, one or two of them join in themselves to almost all our ideas, both sensation and reflection: and there is scarce any affection of our senses from without, any retired thought of our mind within, which is not able to produce in us pleasure or pain” (E II, vii, §2, 128) I refer to the following editions: Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding. Edited with an introduction, critical apparatus and glossary by Peter H. Nidditch, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1975, Leibniz, New Essays on Human Understanding. Translated and edited by Peter Remnant and Jonathan Bennett. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1996 (RB; the page numbers are identical with A VI, 6) and Leibniz, Philosophical Essays. Edited and translated by Roger Ariew and Daniel Garber, Hackett, Indianapolis, 1989 (AG). . (PP2) Leibniz’s strategy in objecting to Locke’s view is very clever. In NE Philalethes adds to Locke’s material a note where he observes that the French translator (Pierre Coste) translates the word uneasiness as inquiétude (in English, disquiet) which is not a verbatim translation, signifying rather a state where a man is not quite at ease, lacking tranquillity in the soul. This state can hardly be compared to Locke’s violent uneasiness – it is more reminiscent of his concept of wish or velleity. Later Theophilus defines disquiet as “imperceptible little urges which keep us constantly in suspense.” This nuance in meaning proves to be of great importance when Theophilus argues that inquiétude fits pretty well with “the nature of the thing itself”, but uneasiness − signifying violent suffering which is understood as displeasure − does not. This is because desire, according to Theophilus, is not the suffering itself, but a disposition to suffering. In other words, a desire has to be notable to be a real suffering. It has to be attended. In NE II, xxi, §36 Leibniz says: “If you take ‘uneasiness’ or disquiet to be a genuine displeasure, then I do not agree that is all that spurs us on. What usually drive us are those minute insensible perceptions which could be called sufferings that we cannot become aware of, if the notion of suffering did not involve awareness” (RB, 188). (PP3) In this way Leibniz is able to argue further that pleasure and pain are not simple, immediate ideas, but consist of multiple minute perceptions of which we are not necessarily aware of. Theophilus is trying to persuade his adversary to allow for a much more complex conception of desire than Locke holds. While Locke’s uneasiness is based on the view that we are always aware of what is in our minds (following Descartes), Leibniz’s disquiet includes the idea that a lot of what is in our mind is not noticed or attended. While Locke sees everything happening now, according to present sensations and reflections, Leibniz regards the mind as a huge warehouse of perceptions where only the most pressing concerns are dealt with in real time Later in the Essay Locke argues that in us there are many uneasinesses always soliciting and ready to determine the will, but the greatest and most pressing wins (E II, xxi, §47). This qualifies his view with respect to Leibniz’s criticism in II, xx where he tends to regard uneasiness as a single desire. . Whereas for Locke pleasure or pain is a state, Leibniz thinks that they are formed eventually as processes as the minute unconscious perceptions cumulate and finally form a notable pleasure or pain which is attended and which might lead us into action. Leibniz argues, contrary to Locke, that we do not feel uneasiness all the time – our perceptions of suffering are mostly minute and only when they accumulate and form a clear, but confused perception Clear, but confused perception is defined in Meditations on Knowledge, Truth and Ideas as follows: “[clear cognition] is confused when I cannot enumerate one by one marks sufficient for differentiating a thing from others, even though the thing does indeed have such marks and requisites into which its notion can be resolved” (GP IV, 422; AG, 24). or disquiet, we may became aware of them. In this way pleasure and pain are comparable to the sensation of warmth or light which is the result of many tiny motions. It is also subject to imagination by which we can link the confused perceptions to our innate clear and distinct ideas. We feel little moments of suffering or pain all the time, but this does not drive us into genuine uneasiness unless these minute perceptions combine and grow and capture our attention. In the end of NE, II, xx, §6 Leibniz employs the metaphor of a clock where a continual balance exists. The German word for this balance is Unruhe, that is, disquiet. Leibniz argues that the clock can be taken as a model of our bodies which can never be at rest. In the body each tiny change affects the other parts of the body and forces it to restore its former balance. Thus there is a perpetual conflict which makes up the constant disquiet of the body. Leibniz gives hunger as an example of a bodily disquiet or a disposition. It eventually grows in us, but only when it gets pressing enough do we became aware of it. This is a good thing – Leibniz praises God for not making us aware of everything which happens in our body because we would be disturbed by even the smallest changes such as breathing and could not concentrate on the most important things in our lives such as living virtuously. In Leibniz’s theory of the mind, there are always dispositions or spurs of desire in the form of the rudiments or elements of suffering (Leibniz uses the word semi-suffering) of which we are not aware. These form the disquiet which affects the mind. Because the semi-sufferings are usually not apperceived, they act as a kind of pretaste of what is to be expected. In Leibniz’s words, they “let us enjoy the benefit of discomfort without having to endure its consequences” (NE II, xx, §6, RB, 165). Opposing these minute semi-sufferings, we can gain semi-pleasures which happen when we satisfy or resist a certain spur of desire. When we can systematically oppose the minute semi-sufferings, the semi-pleasures become a whole, genuine pleasure. Leibniz argues that only through this process is it possible to experience any pleasure. There are no states of complete pleasure in themselves – they can be analysed into smaller semi-pleasures which combine and generate the notable, genuine pleasure. Pleasure and pain come in degrees, so there is no complete change. This view, of course, is related to Leibniz’s theory of the continuum in nature (see GP III, 51-55). Uneasiness and Passions In this section I will discuss how uneasiness is related to the passions of the soul. In E II, xx, §3 Locke argues that emotions arise out of pleasure and pain or good and evil. We can recognize them by attending carefully to our experience, as the idea of unconscious pleasure or pain is inconceivable to Locke (E II, i, §1). Thus passions are essentially connected to pleasure which again is produced by overcoming uneasiness or to satisfying a need for an absent good. In §17 he argues that passions can affect the body and produce changes in it. Now, passions are modes of pleasure and pain and pleasure and pain are essentially related to uneasiness which for Locke is the chief motive for human action. In E II, xxi, §31 he asks: “What is that determines the will in regard to our actions?” and answers: “… I am apt to imagine is not, as is generally supposed, the greater good in view: but some (and for the most part the most pressing) uneasiness a man is at present under” (E, 250-251). (PP4) In chapter xx of E, II Locke tries systematically to explain emotions by delight or uneasiness and does it more or less successfully. There are some exceptions, however. §16 are interesting because there Locke approaches Leibniz’s views, alleviating the possibility of a process of pleasure and pain. He says that lessening of pain is pleasure and loss or diminishing of pleasure is felt as pain. This is essentially what Leibniz argues – that emotion is not a state but a process which includes both pleasure and pain. Leibniz explains different passions in different ways in points 7-17 of II, xx, relying on his basic view about pleasure and pain, but not founding his explanations solely on the one single concept like uneasiness. While Locke’s uneasiness is at worst a pressing, violent and conscious striving for some known absent good, in Leibniz’s view the spurs of desire are just some general restlessness of which we are not necessarily aware. However, the relationship between disquiet and emotions is clearly interwoven: the minute perceptions can affect the emotions and the emotions can give rise to further disquiet. The problem with Leibniz’s view seems to be that the disquiet formed by semi-sufferings or semi-pleasures does not have an object – it is only a general state of restlessness which keeps us alert: “These impulses are like so many little springs trying to unwind and so driving our machine along” (RB, 166). Mere disquiet can perhaps be called rather a mood than a clear-cut passion. Furthermore, Leibniz says himself that with passions and inclinations, we at least know what we want (NE II, xx, §6; RB, 166). Leibniz’s discussion in §6 suggests that passions can build up from the disquiet in something like the following: when a number of minute perceptions or rather a set of minute perceptions which are more vivid than others are related to a certain object, it ceases to be a mere disquiet and turns into a passion of which we become aware of. Pleasure is built up eventually from imperceptible spurs and in this way they “provide a somewhat more distinct knowledge of our inevitably confused ideas of pleasure and of pain”, as Leibniz says a little later (RB, 165). But is this “somewhat more distinct knowledge” a passion? A clearer description of the emotions can be found in NE II, xxi, §39 where Leibniz says: “Disquiet occurs not merely in uncomfortable passions such as aversion, fear, anger, envy, shame, but also in their opposites, love, hope, calmness, generosity and pride.” Thus we can note that disquiet is constitutive of passions, both negative and positive ones, even in both ordinary and intellectual passions (Leibniz argues that even in joy there is always some disquiet present (NE II, xx, §8)). When we look at §41 of chapter xxi, he gives us further enlightenment: “I believe that fundamentally pleasure is a sense of perfection, and pain a sense of imperfection, each being notable enough for one to become aware of it. For the minute insensible perceptions of some perfection or imperfection, which I have spoken of several times and which are as it were components of pleasure and of pain, constitute inclinations and propensities but not outright passions. So there are insensible inclinations of which we are not aware” (RB, 194). (PP5) Let us distinguish between two kinds of impulses, disquiet and passions. Their difference is related to their object. Minute perceptions are related to pleasure or pain and they form disquiet which is general restlessness without a clear object. This disquiet may develop into an inclination or a propensity to something, that is, a known object. This is when mere disquiet changes into a passion with a clear object. Epistemologically, the change is from obscure or clear but confused cognition to clear and distinct. The question is of a degree. When a disquiet becomes strong or pressing enough to be apperceived, it becomes a passion. In his early article Meditationes de cognitatione, veritate et ideis (1684) Leibniz classifies affects or emotions as a clear and distinct type of cognition which can be recognized and distinguished from other states of the mind. Furthermore, being clear and distinct cognition, the passion can be apperceived by the human mind and is therefore intelligible cognition. In this way they are very different from inclinations formed by disquiet which is at most a clear and confused perception, like colours or flavours and subject to imagination (see GP IV, 426) Pauline Phemister offers a somewhat similar reading in her book Leibniz and the Natural World (Springer, Dordrecht, 2005, 248) with the difference that she discusses in terms of appetites and distinguishes between noticeable appetites such as the desire for food and true volitions which are rational or distinct appetites. This can, however, be understood in agreement with the picture I have presented: some general disquiet may develop into hunger and again, when becoming stronger and stronger, be directed to some object such as a certain portion of food. This becomes an apperceived passion of anticipated pleasure or hope and leads into volition. . Weakness of the will To illustrate the differences between the views about the good of the two philosophers, I will turn next to the discussion of akrasia or weakness of the will in E II, xxi, §33-35. Locke naturally explains the phenomena by uneasiness. He argues that the will is not necessarily directed to the greatest good, but it is determined by the greatest uneasiness. The greatest good determines the will only in cases when our desire makes us uneasy in the want of it. So we can change the order of our desired objects and prefer eternal life to sensuous pleasures, for example. But it is quite often the case that our desire is directed to the more tempting and less virtuous desires, as Locke notes: “…let a drunkard see, that his health decays, his estate wastes; discredit and diseases, and the want of all things, even of his beloved drink, attends him in the course he follows; yet the returns of uneasiness to miss his companions, the habitual thirst after his cups, at the usual time, drives him to the tavern, though he has in his view the loss of health and plenty, and perhaps of the joys of another life…” (E II, xxi, §35, 253). (PP6) A little later Locke relates this case to akrasia. “…thus he is, from time to time, in the state of that unhappy complainer, Video meliora proboque, Deteriora sequoer: [I see and approve the better, but follow the worse (Ovid: Metamorphoses)] ”I see and approve the better, but follow the worse” (Ovid, Metamorphoses 7.20-21). which sentence, allowed for true, and make good by constant experience, may this, and possibly no other, way be easily made intelligible” (E II, xxi, §35, 254). (PP6) In Locke’s view, men strive to virtue, but are frequently hindered by uneasiness which is understood as a strong desire for an absent good, whatever that may be. As the real goods are often weaker to motivate us than sensual goods, we have to work really hard to resist the temptations which lure us continually. In other words, we have to weight the future good with the present goods and decide each time if we are willing to risk the afterlife because of the present real or imagined needs. At most, we can suspend our action to reconsider the reasons and deliberate anew, but Locke’s theory of suspending action is fairly unclear and has been a topic of controversy amongst Locke-scholars. Leibniz comments Locke’s view extensively in Nouveaux essais. He cannot accept his view that the will is not directed to the greatest good, but does not consider uneasiness necessarily a bad thing – there is uneasiness present in some form in all our perceptions. This disquiet motivates us to strive for clearer knowledge and keeps us alert at all times. Thus Leibniz sees disquiet as a necessary and mostly positive part of human condition: in addition to clear and distinct ideas, there are always minute, confused perceptions present in our minds which only occasionally become attended and conscious. Because of this, there is seldom only one distinct desire which takes a hold of us. Instead, there are always present numerous spurs to action which may be mutually incompatible. The final volition is more or less a compromise or in an ideal case an optimum between different inclinations: “Various perceptions and inclinations combine to produce a complete volition: it is the result of the conflict amongst them. There are some, imperceptible in themselves, which add up to a disquiet that impels us without our seeing why. There are several that join forces to carry us towards or away from some object, in which case there is desire or fear, also accompanied by a disquiet but not always one amounting to pleasure or displeasure” (II, xxi, §39, RB 192). (PP 7) According to Leibniz, moral wrong-doing can happen in two ways. In the first case the deliberator is unable to discern the real from the apparent good. The minute perceptions blur our judgement and the disquiet which arises makes us believe that the wrong act is right in a given situation. The apparent good is mistakenly chosen instead of the real good – in other words, the optimization of goods fails because of an error. This is not a case of akrasia, strictly speaking. It is rather the sheer inability (ignorance or error) to discover the real goods in question. In the second, more serious case, the real good, although it is present and apperceived, is rejected because of a passion – it does not act as the motivational factor. This kind of case represents acratic action in the true sense for Leibniz. The weak-willed agent judges one course of action to involve the greater good, but is inattentive to it, while she is sensitive to the goods involved in the worse course of action (Vailati 1990: 219). These apparent goods, even if they are related to clear-cut passions, are often spiced up by lively sensual qualities, which arise from minute perceptions such as colour, smell, taste and other sensual pleasures. This is why the apparent goods are more desirable to a weak-willed person than the real good which may be less tempting. To use Leibniz's example, a person who perceives the smell of fresh cakes rejects one’s diet and gives in to one’s desire (II, xxi, §35). The real good recommended by the intellect is rejected by the will and the consequent volition is directed to the apparent goods instead of the real good, which may be the second-best alternative. He says: “It is a daily occurrence for men to act against what they know; they conceal it from themselves by turning their thoughts aside, so as to follow their passions. Otherwise we would not find people eating and drinking what they know will make them ill or even kill them” (NE I, ii, §11, RB 94). (PP8) Often the real goods in deliberation, such as virtue, perfection and the afterlife, are present in the form of symbols or blind thoughts, which are faint compared to the more concrete, vivid images of food, drink and sensual pleasures that accompany clear but confused perceptions. However, once the mind is sufficiently developed it becomes sensitive to the real good. “Sometimes they have the idea of an absent good or evil, but only very faintly, so it is no wonder that it has almost no influence on them. Thus, if we prefer the worse it is because we feel the good it contains but not the evil it contains or the good that exists on the opposite side…the finest moral precepts and the best prudential rules in the world have weight only in a soul that is as sensitive to them as to what opposes them” (NE II, xxi, §35, RB 186). (PP8) Remedies for passions Leibniz’s description of weak-willed action is in fact in many ways similar to Locke’s views on moral virtue with one big difference: hedonism. According to Locke, men desire various things and when they get them, they feel pleasure and in an opposite case, pain. The lack of some object of men’s desire brings about uneasiness in them. But how does the apparent hedonism and moral rationality work together in Locke’s moral philosophy? When God attaches pleasure to certain objects, it is evident that at least some will strive to get them. But when people desire various things, it would seem that even the ones God recommends are not necessarily the ones to which everybody strives for. Locke freely admits that men can desire things which are not good for them or to the common good (II. xxi). Even if one knows exactly what to do in a given situation, one can still be weak-willed and surrender to one’s desires and act against one’s better understanding. This is precisely why God has to attach pleasure and pain to certain acts. In more serious ethical problems Locke applies a mighty argument which goes like this: when we act sinfully, it is assumed that God will punish us. If the offence is serious, it can risk our afterlife. Are we ready to face eternal pain in hell? This is Locke’s balance of pleasure and pain which as an argument is little similar to Blaise Pascal’s famous wager (Pénsees, part III, note 233, 1670). Locke presents his version of the wager in II, xxi, §70. Although our desires are usually related to immediate pleasures, we have to understand that eternal misery is so powerful a pain that it should be avoided at all costs. Thus we should use our reason and think what is better: all the pleasures in this world or all the misery in the next. “…if the good man be in the right, he is eternally happy; if he mistakes, he is not miserable, he feels nothing. On the other side, if the wicked be in the right, he is not happy; if he mistakes, he is infinitely miserable” (E 282). (PP9) Locke’s moral precept is very simple. We put to the one cup of the pair of scales infinite happiness and to the other infinite misery. Independently of our life here in earth, we should think of the afterlife and make sure that there is a chance for infinite happiness. Education, religion and strict self-control are the recommended methods for this goal. As we have seen, Leibniz is sceptical towards Locke’s simple dichotomy between pleasure and pain. In E II, xxi, §64 Locke argues that we cannot enjoy two pleasures at once, much less any pleasure…whilst pain possesses us. It is pain or pleasure, uneasiness or delight for Locke. Leibniz goes on to give counter-examples: a man with gout may be overjoyed because a great fortune has come to him and a man living in luxury may be unhappy because of a disgrace at court. To Leibniz, pleasure and pain is a mixture, and joy or sorrow depends upon which components prevail in the mixture (RB 203-204). He even goes on to compare the Lockean man to a little child who chases after the slightest of present sensible pleasure. Leibniz’s remedy for moral wrong-doing is intellectual passions such as joy, love and hope which lead us to perfection and happiness. They are founded on clear, but confused perceptions of perfection in contrast to clear and distinct perceptions which are typical for clear-cut passions. They motivate us to act rationally, giving rise to actions of the will. The intellectual passions are linked through imagination with the innate instinct (discussed in NE, I) which guides us to joy and averts us from sadness. Thus we have a natural disposition towards perfection which is manifested in the fact that our will is directed to the apparent good. “Although it is correct to say that morality has indemonstrable principles, of which one of the first and most practical is that we should pursue joy and avoid sorrow, it must be added that it is not a truth that is known solely from reason, since it is based on inner experience – on confused knowledge; for one only senses what joy and sorrow are” (RB, 88). (PP10) These internal emotions of the soul can be thought as spontaneous in the Leibnizian sense because they are related to activity. According to Leibniz, the pleasure of an intelligent being consists of beauty, order and perfection (GP VII, 290). Because the intellectual passions are essential to striving for perfection, they are in fact closer to actions than passions: “…Anything which occurs in what is strictly a substance must be a case of “action” in the metaphysically rigorous sense of something which occurs in the substance spontaneously, arising out of its own depths; for no created substance can have an influence upon any other, so that everything comes to a substance from itself (though ultimately from God) (NE II, xxi, §72, RB, 210). (PP11) Thus our moral motivation is founded on the intellectual emotions which are related to perfection and activity. Striving for goodness or pursuing joy may eventually lead to happiness. “…we act to attain happiness or a state of enduring joy and joy is the sense of perfection.” “Agimus autem ut felicitatem consequamur sive duraturae laetitiae statum. Laetitia vero est sensus perfectionis. “ (Praefatio ad libellum elementorum physicae) A VI, 4, p. 1993; L, p. 280. In NE I, ii, §3 Leibniz also defined happiness as lasting joy. A VI, 6 p. 90; RB, p. 90. In an early dialogue, Confessio philosophi (1672-73), his spokeman said that happiness consists in the most harmonious state of mind and that the harmony of the mind consists in thinking about harmony and the greatest harmony of the mind or happiness consists in the concentration of universal harmony, i.e. of God, in the mind. Since God is an infinite being, happiness can also increase to infinity. Leibniz, Confessio philosophi, pp. 30-31. However, Leibniz doubted the existence of a complete state of joy or happiness: “I do not know if the greatest pleasure is possible; I am inclined to believe that it can increase to infinity, for we do not know how far our knowledge and our organs can be developed in the course of the eternity that lies before us. So I would think that happiness is a lasting pleasure that cannot occur without continual progress to new pleasures….We might say, then, that happiness is a pathway through pleasures and that pleasure is only a single step to happiness...” “Je ne say si le plus grand plaisir est possible; je croirois plus tost qu’il peut croistre à l’infini, car nous ne savons pas jusqu’où nos connoissances et nos organes peuvent estre portés dans toute cette eternité qui nous attend. Je croirois donc que le bonheur est un plaisir durable, ce qui ne sauroit avoir lieu sans une progression continuelle à de nouveaux plaisirs….Le bonheur est donc (pour ainsi dire) un chemin par des plaisirs; et le plaisir n’est qu’un pas et un avancement vers le bonheur…” (Nouveaux essais II, xxi, §42) A VI, 6, p. 194, RB, p. 194. For a discussion of medieval mystical treatises by Clement of Alexandria on the process of perfection, see Knuuttila, Emotions in Ancient and Medieval Philosophy, p. 120, for a discussion of the matter by Cappadocian fathers, pp. 127-36, of Aquinas' theory of pleasure and enjoyment, pp. 252-53, of the views on pleasure and enjoyment of the voluntarists, p. 269f, and of Adam Wodeheim's distinction between temporal and infinite fear and suffering, p. 281. (PP12) Subjective happiness has to be continuously sustained in order to be preserved. Leibniz, like Spinoza, argued that the more active one is, the more one attains joy and the more one's feeling of perfection is increased. Contemplating God and His perfections brings about the most complete joy and activity. But as we know from our own lives, there is a constant threat of bypassing these kinds of passions and succumbing to other kind of temptations. Because of this, Leibniz recommends various practical methods in New Essays and elsewhere. He argues that men should make themselves laws and rules for the future and carries them out strictly, avoiding situations that could corrupt them. They should render their conceptions of real goods more vivid by engaging in the useful activities the philosopher recommends, which include farming, gardening, collecting curiosities, making experiments and inquiries, making conversation and reading. Idleness is to be avoided (II, xxi, §35). Good company may help in developing virtue, since perfection is intensified by reflecting on others’ perfections. In Essais de Theodicée, Leibniz’s recommendations are of the same kind: “Le bon naturel, l'education avantageuse, la frequentation des personnes pieuses et vertueuses, peuvent contribuer beaucoup à mettre les ames dans cette belle assiette; mais ce qui les y attache le plus, ce sont les bons principes.” (Essais de Theodicée, preface). G VI, p. 28. Another way of calming ourselves is naturally reasoning of which Leibniz discusses in various writings, for example in his Animadversiones in partem generalem Principiorum Cartesianorum (1692) where he argues that we should control our attention, improve our memory and learn to assess probabilities. Of different ways of self-improvement, see Seidler, Freedom ad Moral Therapy in Leibniz, Studia Leibnitiana, vol. XVII (1985), 1, pp. 14-35. Leibniz’s remedy for passions seems to be essentially the substitution of bad habits with good ones. It is interesting that Spinoza strives to substitute harmful passions by making reason itself affective and in this way gain power over the passions which are only confused ideas. They are overcome by simply understanding them, not by will or substituting them with other passions. Ks. Lloysin artikkeli Soft Underbelly of Reasonissa & Jamesin kirja jne. "Affektio, joka on passio, lakkaa olemasta passio niin pian kuin muodostamme siitä selvän ja tarkan idean." 14