found that with every one of the great ends of the sentiments there tends to arise at times a fear that this end will not be accomplished: as that the union we desire with a loved object will be frustrated, or that the reciprocating love, or the happiness of this person, will not be attained or preserved. And the sentiments are liable to such fears because they have and cannot divest themselves of these desires. The ends of such fears are no longer the prevention of death to the organism, but the prevention of these adverse events. Hence, in most cases, primitive methods are no longer serviceable. The end of the primary emotion has to be subordinated to the end of desire. It is modified and becomes more general. It is still some kind of prevention or avoidance, but is no longer confined to the prevention of injury or death.

Now, as in desiring an end we are liable at times to a fear that it will not be accomplished, so in the pursuit of it, when events are favourable, we feel hope. We feel only hope, because we are not confident but doubtful. And success being doubtful, other events which are unfavourable are also represented in our thought. If we thought only of them we should be disposed to feel fear unmixed. But as the adverse events also are doubtful, our thought alternates between them and those to which hope is attached. The beginnings of fear are constantly being checked by the influence of hope; as hope itself is restrained from becoming confidence through the action of doubt and fear. Under the influence of doubt, involving fear and hope, there seems to be developed the peculiar emotion of anxiety.

If we attempt to go behind the secondary emotion hope to account for anxiety, then we must assume the action of the more undefined emotion from which we supposed it to have been developed. If the checks and furtherances to which a desire is subject make it feel alternately unpleasant and pleasant, then when we become aware of these influences or foresee them, our thought will become correspondingly uneasy or pleasant. The peculiar emotions of hope and anxiety seem to be dependent on the precedence and interaction of these contrary thoughts and the feelings that accompany them. Thus we are anxious about the course of an illness

without however 'fearing the worst,' because the favourable alternative is constantly asserting itself; and we have hope in this favourable event without being able to confine our thought to it because the other alternative recurs.

Anxiety, then, seems to be much more clearly a differentiation of fear than does hope of joy; but however unfavourable a possible event may be judged to be to the fulfilment of desire, it will not give rise to anxiety unless it first to some extent excites fear. In our unimportant desires we do not feel fear. We may desire to get away, and think we shall be detained by our business; but we do not feel anxiety on account of this unfavourable alternative, because our desire is not sufficiently important. Unless the failure of the end is capable of arousing fear when we anticipate its failure, we do not feel anxiety when it is doubtful.

With every desire, however unimportant, there is a certain aversion to the continuance of the present state. If we desire to go out we are averse to remaining in the house. The present state no longer affords us joy, because we desire some other state. The former is now repugnant to us. So also when we think of any event, incompatible with our desire, as probable, that also tends to arouse at least repugnance, but in the greater desires, fear. In the lesser, when unfavourable alternatives recur in our thoughts, and appear sufficiently probable, we feel a vague but unpleasant emotion through the interaction of hope and repugnance. For if desire has certain definite and peculiar emotions in its system, it has also others which are less defined.

If we next consider the tendencies of anxiety we find that they have the same end as have the later forms of fear.1 For as these are directed to prevent the occurrence of any event that we fear, so also anxiety is directed to prevent the occurrence of those events that are incompatible with the end desired. Anxiety about the state of our business or the situation of a friend makes us try to counteract the occurrence of those events that would make the state or situation worse, and thus anxiety is an efficient auxiliary emotion of desire. And here we can discern why these prospective emotions appear as

1 See B. ii. ch. ii. 3.

if they possessed no distinctive impulses of their own, while the impulses which are undoubtedly present seem to belong only to desire. For emotions that become there organised must be so modified that what survives of their original impulses may be strictly subordinated to its end. Thus, in the present case, while it is clear that anxiety as a secondary form of fear has impulses derived from the primary emotion, and that these have been so modified that their end is merely to prevent the occurrence of events that are incompatible with the fulfilment of desire, yet desire itself, independently of anxiety, has these impulses. For if we desire an end we obviously try to counteract influences that are hostile to it. What, then, does desire gain from its emotion of anxiety, and why is not this emotion superfluous? It gains in the first place the force of an emotion which is not, like fear, violent or inconstant, but capable of a steady and persistent activity, making it mindful of what it might otherwise forget, and making it in general more watchful and careful in the management of its process than it would otherwise be. Thus anxiety, though the impulses that it derives from fear have to be modified into accordance with those of desire, and appear identical with them, yet renders the latter more steady, active, and efficient. We come in the last place to Despondency, Disappointment, and Despair, which bear such a close resemblance to sorrow. Are they, in fact, not sorrow itself: the first and second, the sorrow which has not altogether excluded hope, the third, the sorrow which has; the first, the sorrow that overtakes us slowly after an accumulating experience of failure; the second, the sorrow that overtakes us suddenly and unexpectedly? We have remarked, in studying the causation of sorrow, that it is always conditioned by a precedent impulse or desire, and that this impulse or desire. must, as a second condition, be frustrated-not merely opposed, but frustrated. For instance, the primitive impulses for exercise, for rest, for nourishment, for the cessation of bodily pain, all, when frustrated, tend to arouse sorrow, as also, when satisfied, to arouse joy. Where sorrow is aroused, the prominent impulse felt with it is still the preceding impulse for exercise, or rest, or nourishment, or for the

cessation of bodily pain, but now suffering frustration. Sorrow belongs to this impulse; not this impulse to the sorrow. It is the same with despondency, disappointment, and despair, they belong to the desire which precedes them and in whose system they are included. They also tend to arise in it when it has suffered frustration, slowly or suddenly, permanently or for the present time. Thus, in addition to the close resemblance between these emotions and sorrow, we find also that the causes that arouse them are substantially the same in both cases. Finally we may consider their

tendencies.

The only impulse that we found proper to sorrow was that expressed by the cry, inarticulate or articulate, for assistance, or by some gesture expressive of weakness and dependence. Despondency is so weak and effortless that it makes at least a dumb appeal for help; and thus is it always understood; for when a person is despondent we try to encourage him, and to renew his hope and activity. In disappointment and despair this appeal is often suppressed, or addressed in silence to invisible powers. In the former the event has happened, and we have to face it; in the latter, there is no hope left of escaping from it. Yet here, too, there is sometimes expressed the cry of despair, as in Byron's line, "the last despairing cry

Of some strong swimmer in his agony."

"1

All these emotions have also that appearance of uselessness which is so often charged to sorrow, and which made South exclaim: "If there is hope left why do we grieve instead of setting to work; if there is none, why still do we grieve?"

Thus, from a comparison of their feelings, their manner of causation, and their tendencies, we shall conclude that all these emotions are probably differentiations of the primary emotion of sorrow-modifications which its disposition undergoes in the process of desire in consequence of different kinds of failure to realise the desired end. In the next chapter we shall enter with greater detail into the analysis of their tendencies, as well as those of the other prospective emotions of desire.

1 Don Juan.

CHAPTER IV

OF THE TENDENCIES OF THE SPECIAL EMOTIONS OF

DESIRE

1. Of the Laws of Hope and Despondency.

WHETHER the special emotions of desire have or have not impulses of their own, they have a variety of tendencies; or else their occurrence in its system would be useless and unintelligible. Many of these are frequently referred to in literature, and are the staple of the thoughts of those who observe the behaviour of these emotions. And, as a result of these observations, we seem here able to enunciate genuine empirical laws of character which, although we have to give to them a precise and formal expression, are familiar to every one. And it is in such directions that the foundation of a science of character affords us most hope; because here, in enunciating laws, we have not to depend on detecting them ourselves, but to derive them from the express statements of the great observers of character.

We shall first divide the tendencies of the emotions of desire into two classes: (1) those which bear directly on desire, and (2) those which bear on the interaction of these emotions; and in this chapter we shall chiefly confine ourselves to the first class. We may begin with Hope; and the first law that we have to notice is that Hope strengthens Desire. It is a consequence of this law that Hope strengthens Love; because desire is a chief constituent of all human love. And here we have to attempt to define the sense in which hope strengthens desire: (115) Hope increases the activity of desire, aids it in resisting misfortune and the influence of its