high-strung devotion, no rapture, no ecstasy, no ardour of love, no
earnest rhetoric spoken or listened to, no mourning, no rejoicing
other than the most conventional, to the persistent smothering of
whatever is natural and really felt, no tear of pity freely let flow,
no touch of noble anger responded to, no scudding before the breeze of
indignation,--all this, that reason may keep on the even tenour of her
way undisturbed.

6. The fault in this picture is that it is not the picture of a man,
but of a spirit. He who being man should try to realize it in himself,
would fall short of human perfection. For though the sensitive
appetite is distinguished from the will, and the two may clash and
come in conflict, yet they are not two wholly independent powers, but
the one man is both will and sensitive appetite, and he rarely
operates according to one power without the other being brought into
corresponding play. There is a similar concomitance of the operations
of intellect and imagination. What attracts the sensitive appetite,
commonly allures also the _affective_ will, though on advertence the
_elective_ will may reject it. On the other hand, a strong affection
and election of the will cannot be without the sensitive appetite
being stirred, and that so strongly that the motion is notable in the
body,--in other words, is a passion. Passion is the natural and in a
certain degree the inseparable adjunct of strong volition. To check
one is to check the other. Not only is the passion repressed by
repressing the volition, but the repression of the passion is also the
repression of the volition. A man then who did his best to repress all
movements of passion indiscriminately, would lay fetters on his will,
lamentable and cruel and impolitic fetters, where his will was bent on
any object good and honourable and well-judged.