Chapter 42: Of the Will — Its Appetite, Liberty, and Operation

I proceed to the last faculty of men's soul, his will. Which does alone govern, moderate, and overrule all his actions. The dignity of which consists in three peculiar perfections: appetite, liberty, domination. The former respects an end; the two latter, the means leading thereto. The desires are fixed on some good thoroughly proportioned to the wideness of the heart: then the liberty of the will, grounded on the direction of the judgment, makes choice of such means as are most proper for attaining of that good: and lastly, the dominion employs all inferior faculties for the speedy execution of those means.

Sundry ends there are, which may be desired upon particular and conditional occasions: but the true ultimate, utmost and absolute good is God. All other ends are ministering and subordinate; he only is [in non-Latin alphabet] and [in non-Latin alphabet], as Aristotle calls his felicity, the supreme and overruling end; the fountain of all other goods: from the remote participation of whose perfections all other receive that [reconstructed: scantling] of satisfaction and proportion, which they bear to man's will. And therefore some philosophers have simply called him Bonum and Bonum Superessentiale, the only self-sustaining and self-depending good, that is only able thoroughly to satiate and replenish the unlimited desires of the soul of man.

The corruptions of the desires fastened on him are the two extremes of excess and defect. The extremes of excess are superstition and idolatry; a worshipping of false gods, or a false worshipping of the true. Both proceed from the confused mixture of original blindness, with the relics of natural knowledge. This latter gives us a sight in the thesis and general, that a God there is to be desired: but touching the hypothesis, who that God is, with the circumstances and manner of his worship, nature leaves the soul by occasion of the latter in a maze of darkness and unavoidable doubting and uncertainty. So that nature gives light enough to discover the necessity of a duty; but not to clear the means of execution. Light enough to enjoin a walking; but the way being a narrow way, is on every side hedged up from her view. The other extreme of defect is either atheism, in not acknowledging, or ignorance in not seeing, that God whom we ought to serve and desire. Both which (if affected and voluntary, as usually they are) proceed either from guilt; or a consciousness of fearful crimes, which make men study to flatter their distracted spirits in the persuasion that no judge sees them; or else from a sensuality and a desire and purpose to give indulgence to themselves in their evil courses; thinking like that foolish bird, that there is no fowler to catch, no snare to entrap them, if their eyes be but sealed up, and their heads thrust into the hedge of their own darkness: though herein both the atheist discovers divinity, and the ignorant person knowledge enough to convince their own consciences, and condemn themselves.

The dignity of man's will in regard of liberty consists in the freedom, which it has to choose or reject means ordained for the compassing some proposed end, according as the understanding shall find them more or less conducive for the attainment of it. It is, I say, a choosing of the means: for election (as Aristotle determines) is never of the end. We do not choose, but necessarily desire to be happy. The matter of our happiness being proposed without appearance of present inconvenience: because every thing is naturally prone to its own perfection, where there are no intervening inconveniences to affright it. And yet neither is the freedom of the will at all impaired by such a necessity. For as we say in divine attributes, that God has perfect power, though he cannot sin: so we may conclude of the will, it shall in the state of glory (for then only shall our utmost good be chosen without any shadow of inconvenience) have perfect liberty — notwithstanding it shall never be able to will an absence from the vision of God; since the liberty of such a desire would be no liberty, but imperfection and unnaturalness. Now of all other perfections, this has, in respect of the utmost end, been quite depraved, being now in corruption, without the assistance of spiritual or new infused grace, thoroughly disabled from seeking means, which may truly lead to the fruition of God, and utterly captivated and enthralled to the tyranny of sin. So that this liberty is left inviolated only in natural, moral, and civil actions — concerning which, there is a law in nature, even the relics and indelible footprints of man's first innocence, which moderates the elections of the will for its own and others' temporal good.

The dominion and supreme command of the will is only over those powers to the production of whose operations, it does by its authority concur as an absolute efficient, or at least, as a moving agent. It reaches not therefore so far as to the command of the vegetative power: for we cannot command our stomachs to digest, or our bodies to grow, because the vegetative faculties, which were instituted not for the proper service of reason, but of nature; neither does it reach to a universal command of the senses; but only by the mediation of another faculty, over which it has more sovereign power: as it can hinder seeing, not immediately, but by the locomotive power, by closing the eyes. And the same is true of the inward senses; for the memory and imagination often fasten upon objects, which the desire of the will is, should not be any way represented to those powers: so likewise in the sensitive appetite, when once objects belonging thereto creep upon the fancy, irregular motions oftentimes violently resist the will, and the law of the members carries men captive from the law of the mind. Lastly, the will has no dominion absolute and sovereign over those apprehensions of the understanding, which depend on necessary and demonstrative principles: it can require it not to discourse about such objects, and divert it; but it cannot make it assent to them contrary to the evidence of truth demonstrated. Briefly then, the dominion of the will is partly mandatory, and partly persuasive. The one is absolute, working on mere passive and obedient faculties; the other more conditional, and upon supposition of regularity or subjection in the inferior powers. For the will has both an economical government in respect of the body, and the moving organs thereof, as over servants: and it has a politic or civil government towards the understanding, affections, and sensitive appetite, as subjects, with which by reason of their often rebellions, it happens to have sundry conflicts and troubles: as princes from their seditious and rebellious subjects. So that the corruption of this power in the will, is either tyranny in itself, or usurpation in another; an abuse of it, and a restraint of it. The abuse, when the will absolutely gainsays the counsels, laws, and directions of the understanding, which is wrought by the allurement, enticing, and insinuation of the sensitive appetite, secretly winning over the will to the approbation of those courses, which are most delightful to sense: for since the fall, the sweet harmony and subordination of sense to reason, and of reason to God is broken; and the highest faculties of the soul become themselves sensual and carnal. And the restraint when the will is desirous to obey the dictates of reason, or of grace; and lust by her tyranny overbears the soul, and leads it captive to the law of sin, so that a man cannot do the things which he would. As a bird whose wings are besmeared and entangled with some viscous slime, though he offer to fly, yet falls down again.

Now touching the corruption of the will in regard of desire, liberty, and dominion, there have been heretofore some who ascribed them to natural and divine causes, and so make the will to be corrupted only, ab Extrinseco, and that necessarily. The Stoics, they framed a supreme swaying power, inevitably binding it, as all other agents to such particular actions by an eternal secret connection and flux of causes, which they call Fate. Astrologers understanding by Fate nothing but the uniform and unchangeable working of those beautiful bodies, the heavenly orbs, and their influences upon inferiors, annexed to them a binding power necessarily, though secretly over-ruling the practices of men. Inquire the reason, why one man lives conformably to the law of God and nature, another breaks out into exorbitant courses?

Anne aliud, quam — [illegible], and occulti miranda potentia Fati?

What is it else, but stars' malignity, and wondrous power of secret destiny.

It is not to be denied, but that the heavens having strong and powerful operations on all sublunary corporeal substances may in altering the humors of the body, have by the mediation thereof, some kind of influence (if it may be so called) upon the manners; but to ascribe to them any dominion, is as much repugnant to philosophy, as it is to piety. For by binding the actions of man's will to such a law of destiny, and making them inevitably to depend upon Planets, Houses, Constellations, Conjunctions, etc., we do not only impiously take away the guilt of sin, in that we make all men's lapses to be wrought without free principle in himself (and so derogate from the justice of God, in punishing that, to which we were by other of his creatures unavoidably determined) nor only rob God of his mercy, in ascribing those virtuous dispositions of the mind (which are his immediate breathings into man) to the happy aspect of the heavens; but withal we deny to the soul both natural motion and spirituality. Natural motion first; since that always flows from an inward principle, that is essential to the mover (which in the will must needs be free and voluntary) and not from violence or impression made by some extrinsic worker. And then spirituality likewise; since the heavens, being corporeal agents, can therefore extend the dominion of their influence no farther than over bodily substances.

Others there have been yet more impious, which seek to fasten all the corruptions of their wills on something above the heavens, even the eternal foreknowledge and the providence of God: as if my foreknowledge, that on the morrow the sun will rise; or that such men as these shall one day be brought to a severe doom, were the cause working necessity of the next day, or the last judgment. It is true indeed, God's prescience implies a necessity of our working after that manner, as he foreknows: but this is Necessitas only Infallibilitatis, in regard of his undeceivable knowledge, which ever foresees things as they will certainly come to pass by the free or natural workings of the agents, from where they proceed. It is not Necessitas Coactionis, or Determinationis, whereby the will of man is without any other disposition or propensity in itself, enforced or unspontaneously determined to the producing of such effects. The actions of our will are not therefore necessarily executed, because they were foreknown, but therefore they were foreknown, because our will would certainly execute them, though not without freedom and election. And for providence, notwithstanding there be Providentia Permissiva, whereby God has determined to suffer and permit men to sin; and moreover a disposing providence in ordering all things in the world to his own glorious ends, yet we may not presume to think that God does determine, or actuate, impel, and overrule the wills of men to evil. It is true indeed that nothing is done which God in all respects does will, shall not be done with the secret will of his good pleasure (for who can withstand his will) and that his purposes are advanced by all the operations of the creature: but yet he does not so work his will out of men's, as thereby to constrain and take away theirs (for indeed the constraint of a liberal and free faculty, is (as it were) the extinction thereof). This were an argument of weakness, as if he were not able to bring his own ends about, but by chaining and [reconstructed: restraining] his opponents from exercising the freedom which he first gave them; nor do his own will, but by taking away his own gifts. But herein is rather magnified the power of his providence, and the great wisdom of his power, that notwithstanding every man works according to the inclination of his own heart, and that even rebelliously against him; yet out of so many different, so repugnant, so contrary intents, he is able to raise his own glory (the end whether we will or no, of all our actions) and even when his will is most resisted, most powerful to fulfill it. For as sundry times God's revealed will is broken, even by those, whose greatest desires and endeavors are to keep it: so always his secret will is performed, even by the free and self-moving operations of those who set themselves stubbornly to oppose it. There is not then any supreme destiny, extrinsically moving, or necessarily binding any inferiors to particular actions; but there is only a divine providence, which can, as out of the concurrence of differing and casual causes (which we call Fortune) so likewise out of the intrinsic operation of all inferior agents (which we call Nature) produce one main and supreme end, without straining or violating the proper motions of any.

Lastly, many men are apt in this case to father their sins upon the motions of Satan, as if he brought the necessity of sinning upon them; and as Saint Paul said in faith, 'Not I, but sin in me:' so they in hypocrisy, 'Not I, but evil motions cast into me;' and because the Devil is in a special manner called the Tempter, such men therefore think to persuade themselves, that their evil comes not from any willingness in themselves, but from the violence of the enemy's power, malice, and policy. It is true indeed, that the Devil has a strong operation on the wills of corrupt men.

First, because of the subtlety of his substance, whereby he can wind himself and his suggestions most inwardly on the affections and understanding.

Secondly, because of the height of his natural understanding and policy, whereby he is able to transfigure himself into an angel of light, and so to method and contrive his devices, that they shall not miss of the best advantage to make them speed.

Thirdly, because of the vastness of his experience, whereby he is the better enabled to use such plots as have formerly had the best success.

Fourthly, because of his manner of working, grounded on all these, which is violent and furious for the strength; and therefore he is called a strong man, a roaring lion, a red dragon. And deep for the subtlety of it; and therefore his working is called a mystery of iniquity, and deceitfulness of iniquity. Which is seen: first in his accommodating himself to our particular humors and natures, and so following the tide of our own affections. Secondly, by fitting his temptations according to our vocations and personal employments, by changing, or mixing, or suspending, or pressing, or any other the like qualifying of his suggestions, according as he shall find agreeable to all other circumstances. But yet we do not find in any of these any violation of man's will, nor restraint of his obedience; but rather the arts that are used to the inveigling of it. The working then of evil angels, are all by imposture and deceit towards good men; and in respect of evil men, they are but as those of a prince over his subjects; or of a lord over his slaves and captives; which may well stand with the freedom of man's will. And therefore his temptations are in some place called the methods, in others, the devices; in others, the snares of Satan: all words of circumvention, and presuppose the working of our own wills. Though then Satan have in a notable manner the name of Tempter belonging to him; yet we are told in another place, that every man is tempted when he is drawn away of his own concupiscence, and enticed. So that the Devil has never an external temptation (such an one as carries and overcomes the will) but it is always joined with an inward temptation of our own, proceeding from the deceitfulness of our own lusts. So that in this case every man may say to himself as Apollodorus in Plutarch dreamed of himself, when he thought he was boiled alive in a vessel, and his heart cried out to him, I am the cause of all this misery to myself.

Many more things might be here added touching this Faculty, which I will but name. As first for the manner of its Operations. In some cases it works naturally and necessarily, as in its inclination to good in the whole latitude, and general apprehension thereof. For it cannot will any thing under the general and formal notion of evil. In others voluntarily, from itself, and with a distinct view and knowledge of an end to which it works. In others freely, with a liberty to one thing or another, with a power to elicite, or to suspend and suppress its own operation. In all spontaneously, without violence or compulsion. For though in some respects the Will be not free from necessity, yet it is in all free from [reconstructed: Coaction]. And therefore though ignorance and [reconstructed: Fear] may take away the complete [illegible] of an action proceeding from the Will (because without such fear or ignorance it would not have been done — [reconstructed: as] when a man casts his goods into the sea to escape a shipwreck, and when Oedipus slew Laius his father, not knowing him so to be), yet they can never force the Will to do that out of violence, which is not represented under some notion of good to it.

Secondly for the motives of the Will. They are first natural and internal. Among which, the Understanding is the principal, which does pass judgment upon the goodness and convenience of the object of the Will, and according to the greater or lesser excellency thereof, represent it to the Will, with either a mandatory, or a monitory, or a permissive sentence. The Will likewise does move itself. For by an antecedent willing of the end, she sets herself on work to will the means requisite to the obtaining of that end.

And the Sensitive [illegible] does indirectly move it too. By suppressing or bewitching and enticing the judgment to put some color and appearance of good upon sensual things. And then, as the sun seems red through a red glass: so such [reconstructed: as] a man's own affection is, such will the end seem to him to be, as the Philosopher speaks.

Next supernaturally God moves the Will of men. Not only in regard of the matter of the motion — for in him we live, and move, and have our being; but in regard of the rectitude and goodness of it in actions supernatural, both by the manifestation of heavenly light. They shall be all taught of God; and by the infusion and impression of spiritual grace, preventing, assisting, enabling us both to will and to do of his own good pleasure.

Lastly, for the acts of the Will, they are such as respect either the end, or the means for attaining of it. The acts respecting the end are these three. 1. A loving and desiring of it in regard of its beauty and goodness. 2. A serious intention and purpose to prosecute it in regard of its distance from us. 3. A fruition or enjoying of it, which stands in two things. In assecution or possession, whereby we are actually joined to it: and in delectation or rest, whereby we take special pleasure in it.

The acts of the Will respecting the means, are these: 1. An act of using or employing the practical judgment. An application and exercising of it to consult and debate the proper means conducive to that end. Which consultation having passed, and by the practical judgment, a representation being made of the means discovered, there next follows an embracing of those means, and inclining towards them with a double act. The one an act of consent, whereby we approve the means dictated, as proper and possible: the other, an act of election, whereby, according to the different weight of reasons, we adhere to one medium more than to another, either as more proper, or as more [reconstructed: feasible]. Thirdly, because the means do not bring us to the end by being chosen, but by being executed. Hereupon follows another act of mandate to all the faculties interested in the execution of those means, to apply and put forth their forces with vigor and constancy, till the end be at the last by the due execution of those means attained and enjoyed.

Now whereas the Philosopher does often distribute the things belonging to the Soul, into Affections, Faculties and Habits. For the Faculties are moved by the Passions, and the Passions are regulated and managed by the Habits. The Habits procured for facility and constancy of action, and the Actions directed to the obtaining of an end. This method of the Philosopher would now lead us to speak further.

First of the Habits of the Reasonable Soul, and they are either rational only, and in the mind, as the habits of wisdom, of principles, of conclusions, of art and prudence; or besides that virtuous and vicious, conversant about good or evil moral. Which are first the habits of practical principles, called Synteresis; and next the habits of particular virtues, whereby the Will is inclined and facilitated to well doing. To the felicity of all which are required these four conditions.

1. Justice and rectitude disposing the Will to render to God, to ourselves, and to all others that which is theirs, and which of right we owe to them.

2. Prudence, discovering that which is in this manner right, judging of it, and directing to it.

3. Fortitude, enabling the Will firmly to persist in her virtuous purposes, according to the instructions of practical prudence, notwithstanding the labor it must undergo, the delays it must sustain before it can obtain the end, and the difficulties, impediments, discouragements it shall meet with.

4. Temperance, suppressing and subduing those sensual appetites, which would stagger, interrupt, divert us from these constant resolutions.

Next, because all habits, as I said, are directed to the facility and determining of actions, we should thereby be led on to the consideration of human actions, fortuitous, violent, natural, voluntary, involuntary, mixed. As also, to the grounds of the goodness or illness of actions, taken first from the rule of them to which they are to conform. Secondly, from the principles of them, from where they are to proceed, namely, knowledge and faith to see, will to purpose, love to do, subjection to obey, strength to finish and fulfill what virtue leads us to. Thirdly, from the manner and measure of their perfection. And lastly, from the ends to which they should be directed.

By which consideration, we should be led to take a view of the right end, and ultimate felicity, to which all these actions should lead and carry us; not as the causes of it, but as the way, and antecedents to it.

But these pertaining to a nobler science, and being without the limits of the subject which I proposed to speak of, I shall follow Pliny's counsel, and look back to the title of my Book: which having (as well as my weakness was able) endeavored to go through, it now calls upon me to go no further.