to sentiments, and not primitive fear-is determined by the ends of these sentiments, and has certain functions to perform in relation to them. Now whether, as in love, we pursue the preservation and well-being of the loved object, and our union with it, or, as in hate, pursue the destruction and evil state of the hated object, we tend to fear, through the action of the sentiment, those events that seem to render impossible the attainment of these supreme ends—as in hate, those events that will make the hated thing powerful, happy or prosperous, or that by separating us from it, will baulk our efforts to destroy it.

We shall then formulate the law of fear, common to both classes of sentiments, as follows: (32) The common end of fear in both love and hate is to prevent such events occurring as seem to imperil the ends of these sentiments, and fear is therefore aroused by the prospect of such events.

What finally is the universal end of fear? It must be highly abstract to combine so many and such different types: is it also vague and undefinable? Fear, from its primitive to its latest forms, has always to do with events which are taken to be threatening' or 'dangerous.' first this danger refers to the body and threatens its life. Later on these events are conceived of as 'dangerous'; and as 'threatening' not merely the life of the body but, metaphorically speaking, the ends of our sentiments. In Love, we fear the destruction of the object loved, and in Hate, the escape of the hated object from destruction. Any event which is conceived of as threatening the one result or the other is dangerous.' The universal end and common function of fear can be nothing more than to prevent the occurrence of some 'dangerous' event, that is to say, of some event that 'threatens' one or other of these more particular results: certainly a very abstract and empty sort of end, but one which affords, in different stations, a great latitude of development.

As fear has always to deal with some threatening event, so in its emotion, there is always something to match this : a painful, prospective thought, which we call 'apprehensiveness.' And the significance of an animal's flight, or simula

tion of death, or changes of colour, and of the locks and bolts invented by man, and his defensive forces, and of much of his lying and treachery, of his complaisance as well as his reserve, are always related to this threatening event and this apprehensive thought of it.

Let us then enunciate this law: (33) The universal end of Fear is merely to prevent the occurrence of some threatening event whether the danger be 'real' or 'imaginary.'

In finding an end common to all varieties of fear, it by no means follows that this end distinguishes the system of fear from all other emotional systems. Any law which embraces so many and such distinct varieties must be exceedingly abstract; and thus the end which they have in common may not also serve to distinguish them. For these varieties are manifested in the most opposite modes of behaviour, as in the greatest rapidity of movement of which an animal is capable, contrasting with a prostration and immobility that resembles death; as in giving vent to the most piercing cries for help, contrasting with the suppression of all noise. We find even that the emotion which we regard as the very root of cowardice, can yet be so modified as to evoke a high degree of courage; and-if the struggle of a desperate man for his life with even one stronger than himself, be not true courage,—we are reminded of that noble and disinterested fear that freely exposes self to danger for the salvation of another life.

The supposition into which we fall so naturally, that there must be some end distinctive of all varieties of fear, may not be justified; and there are reasons for holding that it is not. If fear is directed to prevent the happening of some dangerous event, are there not other systems which have the same ulterior end? Without the appetite of hunger, and the instincts connected with it, animals would die of starvation. Anger is often a reaction to the same set of external circumstances as is fear. The approach of an enemy is an event fraught with possible danger; one man reacts to it with anger, another with fear. Both systems, in different ways, tend to prevent the occurrence of a dangerous event. Thus, while all varieties of fear have a common end, there does not

appear to be one distinctive of its system as compared with others.

What then do we gain by having two or more systems directed to the same end, and what special advantage do we derive from fear? Fear subserves the preservation of life in its own way, and brings to the service of the sentiments its own original and acquired modes of behaviour. The system of fear in man is wonderfully complex and adaptive. It comprises, first, all the eight principal instincts of which there are corresponding varieties in different species of animals. It comprises, in the second place, the disposition to those modes of behaviour that are acquired, and are peculiar to man, which he invents or learns by imitation. Fear therefore, in man, has at its disposal a much greater number of alternative modes of behaviour than falls to the lot of any other animal. According to the situation it can, when its emotion is not too intense, select the behaviour appropriate to that situation. And the fears of the sentiments, aroused through ideas, and their forecasting thought of consequences, are seldom as intense as the primitive and instinctive types. The sentiments tend to control and subordinate them to their ends; and this control tends not only to mitigate their intensity, but to elicit from their systems the behaviour which the situation requires. Thus the instincts of fear rarely dominate the system in man as in animals. For they do not furnish the common end of fear, but only the proximate ends comprised in their peculiar types of behaviour. Besides these, there are the other acquired modes of behaviour which may not comprise instinctive constituents.

This therefore is what our sentiments, and human life generally, gain from the system of fear: a most complex and adaptive system of alternative types of behaviour, distinguishing fear from every other emotional system. It is this and not its common end which distinguishes it. Fear throughout its varieties, and with one possible exception, manifests in its behaviour one general characteristic: it avoids all aggressive action. And to deal with the apparent exception-if the situation on rare occasions forces fear to resort to aggression, this is only as a momentary phase of its conduct, and as a

means to that other and pacific conduct that characterises it. It fights with an adversary, but only to escape from him; it struggles for the possession of lifebelt or wreckage, but only to cling to it for safety.

This distinctive behaviour of fear serves to interpret the utility of its system. There are situations of constant occurrence with which, and apart from all cowardice, an aggressive behaviour is unfitted to deal. We are too weak to attack them directly; or no mode of attack known to anger is adapted to them. Disease and death threaten us: we invent methods of prevention and delay. Our adversary is too strong: we invent methods of complaisance and deceit. It is difficult to keep a sufficient guard over our property: we hand it over to the protection of banks and depositories.

Thus fear, if it have no common and distinctive end, has a body of behaviour which distinguishes it, and through which it subserves a function in our sentiments which no other emotion can fulfil. It deals with situations of weakness in which, however strong we are, something else in the present or future seems stronger. The types of its behaviour are its methods of dealing with this power; and all its methods it puts at the service of the sentiments which organise it, for all of them have their experiences of weakness.

The law of the behaviour of Fear is, then, a very familiar one: (34) Fear throughout its varieties strives to avoid aggressive behaviour.

5. Of the Growing Control of the Instincts of Fear by the Emotion

As there are three parts in every emotional system, so we must distinguish in Fear, first, that part which is present in consciousness and accessible to internal observationthe emotion itself, its impulses, sensations and thoughts secondly, that part which is organised in the nervous system, comprising the instincts of fear and its acquired dispositions; thirdly, that part which comprises the characteristic behaviour of the system, and is accessible to external observation. We have distinguished the different varieties of fear not by the differences of their feelings and sensations,

nor by the different causes which arouse them, nor by the objects to which they refer; but according to the characteristic types of behaviour which they initiate; for this and nothing else is of the first importance in an inquiry into the nature of fear as one of the fundamental forces of character. It has become clear to us that no one of these types of behaviour furnishes the end of the emotion, and that they are but different methods, inherited or acquired by the system, for arriving at this end. For where any one of them does not attain it, the fear tends to persist. There is then in the system of fear an emotion-an impulse-which is not necessarily satisfied by the fulfilment of any one of the types of behaviour at its disposal. We feel it persist when neither flight, nor concealment, nor outcry, nor silence has availed us, with a force increased by our failure. It is this impulse that strives ever to fulfil its end of escape from danger, which learns, in man, to vary its methods, and to set aside those which are unsuccessful.

This central and emotional side of fear comes to be the supreme force of the system in man, subordinating the other forces that belong to it, its several instincts, and the dispositions to other and acquired modes of behaviour. The instincts of fear no longer dominate the system in man, because they only provide the instinctive, and not the acquired, forms of behaviour, and the biological, but not the common end. But so long as with animals and young children, fear is more or less exclusively under the influence of the stimuli which instinctively arouse it, and reacts to them by some one form of instinctive behaviour characteristic of the animal or the situation, so long may the emotion seem to be the mere accessory of this one, instinctive process. But the more developed fear is, and removed from this state-the more it is aroused by ideas and directed ends foreseen-the more it comes to be organised in sentiments-the greater in relative importance becomes this central part of the system. For acquiring foresight of its particular end, the special danger which it has to avoid, it is no longer impelled blindly into this or that instinctive form of behaviour, but consciously adopts that or some other which