THE WILL, OR OPTATIVE POWER.

CHAPTER I.

THE ESSENTIAL NATURE OF WILL.

It is self-evident that there is such a power. We are conscious of it, in fact we know it, we feel it working. It is different from all the other faculties of the mind. It has a power in itself. A tempting proposal is made to us: we may obtain a large fortune by telling a lie. Prior to any exercise of will in such a case, other powers must operate; we have to understand what is proposed. The wealth has spread out its allurements to the appetences, and the conscience may have declared that there is deceit and that it is evil. But we have now to decide whether we are or are not to tell the falsehood. We decide to follow the path of integrity, and we reject the proposal. There is now more than the understanding and the love of money and conscience. With all these we might, in our free will, have told the lie and got the possession. We might have accepted; but we have chosen to reject, and in doing so we have exercised will.

Let us ascertain what is involved. The essential element is CHOICE. Two courses are open to us, and we choose one rather than the other. But it is not necessary that there should be two courses or two objects. One only may be before us, and we adopt it. In all such cases, occurring every hour of our waking existence,

there is an act of a special, of a peculiar kind, different in toto, as the consciousness testifies, from the action of matter, different from the exercises of understanding, of the conscience, or the emotions.

As will takes the form of adoption, so it may also manifest itself in rejection; we scorn the proposal to tell a falsehood. Indeed, in all cases in which there are two or more ways before us, we exercise both choice and rejection; in choosing the one we virtually set aside the other, at least in comparison with the one preferred.

It is of special moment to distinguish the will from other principles of man's nature, particularly from the emotion with which it is often combined and with which it is apt to be confounded. We have shown that in all emotion there is excitement, with attachment or repugnance; we look with complacency or displacency on the object of which we have an idea. But in will there is something more, something more decisive: we accept the object or event, or we put it away from us. When we see a fine picture, we cannot but admire it: this is emotion. But we covet it, knowing it to belong to another, and we would appropriate it except for fear of exposure: then we have a wish regarding it, and it is evil.

Ethical writers, in order to save morality, have found it necessary to draw distinctions of some sort in regard to the will. They often distinguish between desire and volition, declaring that there is nothing good or evil in desire, while there may be in volition. A man, they say, may not be responsible for his desires, which may often be independent of his will and even contrary to it. He may be said to be praiseworthy or blameworthy when his desires come forth in acts. Now, without affirming that there is no such distinction, or that it is unimportant, I do not regard it as the essential one in the matter of

human responsibility. Good and evil do not consist primarily in outward deeds; they lie in the heart or will. There may be evil in all forms of covetousness, in envy and malice, even when they do not come forth into corresponding acts. "Whoso looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart." Our moral nature approves of this maxim. The correct ethical statement is, wherever choice enters, responsibility may be involved.

CHAPTER II.

VARIOUS FORMS OF VOLUNTARY ACTS.

FROM an early date distinctions of some kind were drawn as to the operations of the will. Thus Aristotle distinguishes, though not very clearly, between

Bouλnois, choice of ends.

Bovλn, choice of means.

It

Пpoaíperts, deliberate preference of things in our power. The will appears at first as weak and infantile. grows with the growth of mind, and specially of the intelligence and character. It is first in a sense instinctive; it may rise into attention, desire, wish; into volition, deliberate preference or rejection, obstinacy. It may be the mere passive wish that makes no effort. It may be the mere moving of the arm to ward off a pressing danger. It may become a purpose to gain far distant ends, to remove evil, to avoid temptation, to bear up in the midst of trouble, to contend with sin within and corruption around us. It may be settled into what is called a strong will, continued for years in the midst of obstacles, opposition, and suffering, and in the end succeeding or making shipwreck.

I. INSTINCTIVE OR SPONTANEOUS WILL, so called for want of a more explicit phrase. It is entitled to be regarded as will, for there is a succession of volitions, which, however, are so spontaneous in their nature that they can scarcely be said to have anything voluntary in them; there is certainly no thoughtful or deliberate

choice. The most important element is an instinctive one, stirring up an impulse which prompts to a momentary, voluntary act. It is thus the infant soon learns to cast off by its hand a fly, or some other offensive object, or to seize an object with a pleasing color. It is thus we hasten to ward off a blow, to prevent a fall. There is momentary will in every step we take in walking; otherwise our feet would not carry us to the point towards which we would wish to go. Our habitual acts come soon to be of the same nature as our instinctive ones (it is probable, indeed, that a large portion of our instinctive actions are the result of a continued is, or habit), and are raising up a series of immoral acts of will. I believe that vastly more than half our movements are thus impulsively voluntary, half instinctive and half intentional.

II. DESIRE. This is not necessarily voluntary. It may be a mere inclination for food, for rest, or for action to avoid pain or to catch pleasure. All our natural dispositions tend to raise up desires without any necessary interference of the will: such are the desire for society, for esteem, for fame, for power. These all instigate to action, which needs will to execute it, and then certainly the process becomes voluntary. Desire and volition thus join in our mind every waking hour of our existence.

In these instinctive acts, involuntary or voluntary, there is nothing either morally good or evil. They become reprehensible only when we do not keep them in due order; when we allow them to run to excess, or lead us into forbidden courses. When we direct them aright, when they are made to accomplish good ends, they become virtuous and commendable, and our desires may become holy and elevating.

III. ATTENTION, which is an act of the will. Here,