tendency is fulfilled, the pleasantness of the emotion is not interfered with, and it runs out to its natural term. But with the joy there is also a baffled curiosity, and this obstruction tends to be felt as unpleasant in proportion to the strength of the impulse. There are, then, two antagonistic principles in wonder: the one tends to maintain the present state, and with it the wonder; the other tends to supersede the present state by a fuller knowledge of the object; and this works, therefore, to destroy the wonder. In the wonder at the base of philosophy and the sciences, curiosity, after a little, obtains supremacy over the attitude of joy and astonishment; in the wonder at the base of the love of the marvellous and of mystery, the joy and astonishment remain supreme; and the mystery of the thing and the undercurrent of curiosity seem to increase both the delight and the wonder. For the baffled curiosity, which in itself tends to diminish the enjoyment, carries a compensation: it exalts the object and increases the admiration for it, as something far above our comprehension, and, therefore, increases the joy. We have found, then, an explanation of the opposite effects of these two kinds of wonder, and we have now to attempt to formulate the law of their action: (105) In proportion as the joy in wonder is stronger than curiosity, the impulse of curiosity, already obstructed by the situation, is altogether held in check by joy; its question is reiterated, but is not allowed to seek for an answer. In proportion as the impulse of curiosity in wonder is stronger than the tendency of joy (being, indeed, irrepressible in the greatest minds), the first delight of wonder gives place to active investigation of the object. From this law it seems to follow that only those possess a great gift of wonder who never satisfy its curiosity; but the reverse of this seems to be the truth. For curiosity, which is always at first obstructed in wonder, is either easily satisfied or it is not. If it is, wonder is soon at an end, and its object may hardly seem to have been worthy of the emotion. But how many other occasions of wonder are presented in its stead, inspired by admiration for the great, the beautiful, and the mysterious! And thus wonder is the Phoenix which, through its own destruction, comes to life again. There is, however, a second reason why this active and investigating wonder develops rather than exhausts the capacity of feeling the emotion, and is not supplanted in those ardent minds that pass their lives in investigation. From common things, as Aristotle said, wonder may rise, step by step, to the highest; and, as difficulties increase, curiosity, however eager and indefatigable, finds itself again and again repressed. With each such repression wonder is renewed; until at length we reach the highest things which overtax the greatest minds. How great and wonderful those objects are only those know who have given all the powers of their minds to master them; not those who rest in that other and indolent wonder, in which all sorts of superstitions and delusions develop--little worthy of wonder-because they have not trusted their understanding. We have now finished this inadequate study of the chief emotional systems organised in the sentiments, of which wonder, if not a primary system, is one of the most important, being the source of the sentiment for truth, and exalting the worth of every beloved object. We have now to consider another system, which, though no longer regarded as an emotion, is more important than any emotion in the organisation of the sentiments. This system is Desire. CHAPTER I THE SYSTEM OF DESIRE 1. Of the Differences of Impulse, Appetite and Emotion. In this chapter we have to introduce a new feature into the conception of character outlined in the First Book; and in so doing we shall be acting in accordance with our method. By the study of Desire we shall carry further that conception; we shall discern fresh problems of the science, and be directed in the search for other laws than those we have hitherto recognised. And here, too, we shall not attempt to establish the final truth of our conception of desire, but shall be content to take it "for its value in use," in the conviction that the defects in it will be gradually disclosed by the application of the method and the progress of the science. The systems of character which, for want of a better term, we named the 'sentiments,' organise certain of the primary emotional systems, and are partly constituted by such organisation. In this unfinished state we left the conception of the sentiments, because we were not then in a position to understand desire, which, also, wherever intellectual development permits of it, is contained in their systems. An essential feature of the primary emotions, as we conceived them, was the possession of impulses; and these impulses we found to be connected with particular instincts or innate tendencies, and to be the immediate condition or correlate in consciousness of their activity. The emotion, with its impulses, instincts, acquired tendencies and behaviour, constituted, in our view, a single system innately determined |