restless, are noisy and congregate in flocks. Whilst the mother-bird is
feeding, or brooding over her nestlings, the maternal instinct is
probably stronger than the migratory; but the instinct which is the
more persistent gains the victory, and at last, at a moment when her
young ones are not in sight, she takes flight and deserts them. When
arrived at the end of her long journey, and the migratory instinct has
ceased to act, what an agony of remorse the bird would feel, if, from
being endowed with great mental activity, she could not prevent the
image constantly passing through her mind, of her young ones perishing
in the bleak north from cold and hunger.
At the moment of action, man will no doubt be apt to follow the
stronger impulse; and though this may occasionally prompt him to the
noblest deeds, it will more commonly lead him to gratify his own
desires at the expense of other men. But after their gratification when
past and weaker impressions are judged by the ever-enduring social
instinct, and by his deep regard for the good opinion of his fellows,
retribution will surely come. He will then feel remorse, repentance,
regret, or shame; this latter feeling, however, relates almost
exclusively to the judgment of others. He will consequently resolve
more or less firmly to act differently for the future; and this is
conscience; for conscience looks backwards, and serves as a guide for
the future.
The nature and strength of the feelings which we call regret, shame,
repentance or remorse, depend apparently not only on the strength of
the violated instinct, but partly on the strength of the temptation,
and often still more on the judgment of our fellows. How far each man
values the appreciation of others, depends on the strength of his
innate or acquired feeling of sympathy; and on his own capacity for
reasoning out the remote consequences of his acts. Another element is
most important, although not necessary, the reverence or fear of the
Gods, or Spirits believed in by each man: and this applies especially
in cases of remorse. Several critics have objected that though some
slight regret or repentance may be explained by the view advocated in
this chapter, it is impossible thus to account for the soul-shaking
feeling of remorse. But I can see little force in this objection. My
critics do not define what they mean by remorse, and I can find no
definition implying more than an overwhelming sense of repentance.
Remorse seems to bear the same relation to repentance, as rage does to
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