WONDER. "I wonder how it is." "I wonder whence it came." We wonder this, we wonder that, but one of the greatest wonders is the faculty of wonder itself. "What is the origin of wonder?" inquires that astute reasoner, the Duke of Argyle, who straightway gives the answer: "In the lower animals a lower form of it exists in the shape of curiosity, being little more than an impulse to seek for that which may be food, or to avoid that which may be danger. But in man it is one of the most powerful and the most fruitful of all his mental characteristics. Of its origin we can give no other account than that there exists in man an indefinite power of knowing, in contact with an equally indefinite number of things which are to him unknown. Between these two facts the connecting link is the wish to know. And, indeed, if the system of nature were not a reasonable system, the power of knowing might exist in man without any wish to use it. But the system of nature being what it is a system which is the very embodiment of wisdom and knowledge such a departure from its unity is impossible. That unity consists in the universal and rational correspondence of all its essential facts. There would be no such correspondence between the powers of the human mind, and the ideas which they are fitted to entertain, if these powers were not incited by an appetite of inquiry. Accordingly, the desire of knowledge is as much born with man as the desire of food. The impression that there are things around him which he does not know or understand, but which he can know and understand by effort and inquiry, is so much part of man's nature that man would not be man without it.” DELICATE TASTE AND PASSION. The following finely-finished sentences on the subject of taste and passion are from the essays of David Hume: "Some people are subject to a certain delicacy of passion, which makes them extremely sensible to all the accidents of life, and gives them a lively joy upon every prosperous event, as well as a piercing grief when they meet with misfortunes and adversity. Favors and good offices easily engage their friendship; while the smallest injury provokes their resentment. Any honor or mark of distinction elevates them above measure; but they are as sensibly touched with contempt. People of this character have, no doubt, more lively enjoyments, as well as more pungent sorrows, than men of cool and sedate tempers; but, I believe, when everything is balanced, there is no one, who would not rather be of the latter character, were he entirely master of his own disposition. Good or ill fortune is very little at our disposal; and when a person, that has this sensibility of temper, meets with any misfortune, his sorrow or resentment takes entire possession of him, and deprives him of all relish in the common occurrences of life; the right enjoyment of which forms the chief part of our happiness. Great pleasures are much less frequent than great pains; so that a sensible temper must meet with fewer trials in the former way than in the latter. Not to mention, that men of such lively passions are apt to be transported beyond all bounds of prudence and discretion, and to take false steps in the conduct of life, which are often irretrievable. "There is a delicacy of taste observable in some men, which very much resembles this delicacy of passion, and produces the same sensibility to beauty and deformity of every kind, as that does to prosperity and adversity, obligations and injuries. When you present a poem or a picture to a man possessed of this talent, the delicacy of his feelings makes him be sensibly touched with every part of it; nor are the masterly strokes perceived with more exquisite relish and satisfaction, than the negligences or absurdities with disgust and uneasiness. A polite and judicious conversation affords him the highest entertainment; rudeness or impertinence is as great a punishment to him. In short, delicacy of taste has the same effect as delicacy of passion; it enlarges the sphere both of our happiness and misery, and makes us sensible to the pains as well as to the pleasures, which escape the rest of mankind. "I believe, however, every one will agree with me, that, notwithstanding this resemblance, delicacy of taste is as much to be desired and cultivated, as delicacy of passion is to be lamented, and to be remedied, if possible. The good or ill accidents of life are very little at our disposal; but we are pretty much masters what books we shall read, what diversions we shall partake of, and what company we shall keep. Philosophers have endeavored to render happiness entirely independent of everything external. The degree of perfection is impossible to be attained; but every wise man will endeavor to place his happiness on such objects chiefly as depend upon himself; and that is not to be attained so much by any other means as by this delicacy of sentiment. When a man is possessed of that talent, he is more happy by what pleases his taste, than by what gratifies his appetites; and receives more enjoyment from a poem or a piece of reasoning than the most expensive luxury can afford. "Whatever connection there may be originally between these two species of delicacy, I am persuaded that nothing is so proper to cure us of this delicacy of passion, as the cultivating of that higher and more refined taste, which enables us to judge of the characters of men, of compositions of genius, and of the productions of the nobler arts. A greater or less relish for those obvious beauties, which strike the senses, depends entirely upon the greater or less sensibility of the temper; but with regard to the sciences and liberal arts, a fine taste is, in some measure, the same with strong sense, or at least depends so much upon it that they are inseparable. In order to judge aright of a composition of genius, there are so many views to be taken in, so many circumstances to be compared, and such a knowledge of human nature requisite, that no man, who is not possessed of the soundest judgment, will ever make a tolerable critic in such performances. And this is a new reason for cultivating a relish in the liberal arts. Our judgment will strengthen by this exercise; we shall form juster notions of life. Many things which please or afflict others, will appear to us too frivolous to engage our attention; and we shall lose by degrees that sensibility and delicacy of passion, which is so incommodious. "But perhaps I have gone too far, in saying that a cultivated taste for the polite arts extinguishes the passions, and renders us indifferent to those objects, which are so fondly pursued by the rest of mankind. On further reflection, I find, that it rather improves our sensibility for all the tender and agreeable passions; at the same time that it renders the mind incapable of the rougher and more boisterous emotions. "Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes, "For this, I think, there may be assigned two very natural reasons: "1. Nothing is so improving to the temper as the study of the beauties, either of poetry, eloquence, music, or painting. They give a certain elegance of sentiment to which the rest of mankind are strangers. The emotions which they excite are soft and tender. They draw off the mind from the hurry of business and interest; cherish reflection; dispose to tranquility; and produce an agreeable melancholy, which, of all dispositions of the mind, is best suited to love and friendship. "2. A delicacy of taste is favorable to love and friendship, by confining our choice to few people, and making us indifferent to the company and conversation of the greater part of men. You will seldom find that mere men of the world, whatever strong sense they may be endowed with, are very nice in distinguishing characters, or in marking those insensible differences and gradations, which make one man preferable to another. Any one, that has competent sense, is sufficient for their entertainment; they talk to him of their pleasures and affairs, with the same frankness that they would to another; and finding many who are fit to supply his place, they never feel any vacancy or want in his absence." ORIGINAL THOUGHT. To become an original thinker a person must not only follow in the line of perceptions, but also pause to heed the suggestions. Passing from perception to perception, on, on, for a life-time, is the habit of a superficial mind; to detain every perception long enough to follow out the suggestions which spring from it is the habit of the reflective mind. The one, as Dr. Wayland says, cognizes only the facts which are visible on the surface; the other arrives at a knowledge of the hidden relations by which all that is seen is united together and directed. Millions of men, before Sir Isaac Newton, had seen an apple fall to the ground, but the sight awakened no suggestion; or, if it did, the suggestion was neither retained nor |