slow dead heave of the will that is felt in these instances
makes of them a class altogether different subjectively
from all the four preceding classes. What the heave of
the will betokens metaphysically, what the effort might
lead us to infer about a will-power distinct from motives,
are not matters that concern us yet. Subjectively and
phenomenally, the /cWty/^ of effart, absent from the former
decisions, accompanies these. Whether it be the dreary
resignation for the sake of austere and naked duty of all
sorts of rich mundane delights; or whether it be the heavy
resolve that of two mutually exclusive trains of future
fact, both sweet and good and with no strictly objective
or imperative principle of choice between them, one shall
forevermore become impossible, while the other shall be-
come reality; it is a desolate and acrid sort of act, an en-
trance into a lonesome moral wilderness. If examined
closely, its chief difference from the former cases a})i)ear8
to be that in those cases the mind at the moment of de-
ciding on the trium})hant alternative drop})ed the other
one wholly or nearly out of sight, whereas liere both alter-
natives are steadily held in view, and in tlie very act of
murdering the van(iuiKlied possibility tiie chooser realizes
how much in that instant he is making himself lose. It
is delil)erately driving a thorn into one's flesii; and the
sense of iniranl rjf'uri with whiih the act is accomjianied
is an element which sets this fifth type of decision in
strong contni^t with the j)reviouH four varieties, and makes
of it an altf)gether peculiar sort of mental phenomenon.
The immense majority of himuui ih-cisions are decisions
434 P87CH0L0GT.
without effort. In comparatively few of them, in most
people, does effort accompany the final act. We are, i
think, misled into supposing that effort is more frequent
than it is by the fact that during dehbe?'ation we so often
have a feeling of how great an effort it would take to make
a decision now. Later, after the decision has made itself
with ease, we recollect this and erroneously suppose the
effort also to have been made then.
The existence of the effort as a phenomenal fact in our
consciousness cannot of course be doubted or denied. Its
significance, on the other hand, is a matter about which
the gravest difference of opinion prevails. Questions as
momentous as that of the very existence of spiritual cau-
sality, as vast as that of universal predestination or free-
will, depend on its interpretation. It therefore becomea
essential that we study with some care the conditions under
which the feeling of volitional effort is found.
The Feeling of EiFort. — When I said, awhile back, that
cojisciousness (or the neural process which goes with it) is
m its very nature impulsive, I should have added the
proviso that it must he sufficiently intense. Now there are
remarkable differences in the power of different sorts of
consciousness to excite movement. The intensity of some
feelings is practically apt to be below the discharging
point, whilst that of others is apt to be above it. By
practically apt, I mean apt under ordinary circumstances.
These circumstances may be habitual inhibitions, like thai
comfortable feeling of the dolce far niente which gives to
each and all of us a certain dose of laziness only to be
overcome by the acuteness of the impulsive spur; or they
may consist in the native inertia, or internal resistance, of
the motor centres themselves, making explosion impossible
until a certain inward tension has been reached and over-
passed. These conditions may vary from one person to an-
other, and in the same person from time- to time. The
neural inertia may wax or wane, and the habitual inhibi-
tions dwindle or augment. The intensity of particulr
WILL. 435
thought-processes and stimulations may also change inde-
pendently, and particular paths of association grow more
pervious or less so. There thus result great possibilities
of alteration in the actual impulsive efficacy of particular
motives compared with others. It is where the normally
Ifss efficacious motive becomes more ethcacious, and tlie
normally more efficacious one less so, that actions ordinarily
effortless, or abstinences ordiiuirily easy, either become im-
possible, or are elTected (if at all) by the expenditure of
effort. A little more description will make it plainer what
tht'se cases arc.
Healthiness of Will. -There is a certain normal ra/io
in the iinpulsive power of different mental object a, which
characterizes what may be called ordinary healthiness oj
will, and which is departed from only at exceptional times
or by exceptional individuals. The states of mind which
normally possess the most impulsive quality are either
those wliich represent objects of passion, appetite, or emo-
tion — objects of instinctive reaction, in short; or they are
feelings or ideas of pleasure or of pain; or ideas which for
any reason we have grown accustomed to obey, so that the
habit of reacting on them is ingrained; or finally, in com-
parison with ideas of remoter objects, they are ideas of
objects present or near in space and time. Comi)art'd wiili
these various objects, all far-off considerations, all highly
abstract conceptions, unaccustomed reasons, and motives
foreign to the instinctive history of the race, have little oi
no in)pulsive power. Tiiey prevail, when they ever do
prevail, with effort; and the normal, as distinguished from
the pathological, sphere of (ffort is thus found ivhereier
non-iu.stinctive motives to behavior must be reinforced so aa
to rule the day.
Healthiness of will moreover requires a certain amount
of complication in the process which precedes the liat or
the act. Each stimuluH or idea, at the same time that it
wakens its own impultic, muKt also arouse otiier ideas along
with their charact^jriutic inijiulseH, and >u;tJuu must finullj
436 PSrCMOLOGl.
follow, neither too slowly nor too rapidly, as the resultant
of all the forces thus engaged. Even when the decision ia
pretty prompt, the normal thing is thus a soft of prelimi-
nary survey of the field and a vision of which course ia
best before the fiat comes. And where the will is healthy,
the vision must he right (i.e., the motives must be on the
whole in a normal or not too unusual ratio to each other),
and the action must obey the vision's lead.
Unhealthiness of will may thus come about in many
ways. The action may follow the stimulus or idea too
rapidly, leaving no time for the arousal of restraining
associates — we then have a precipitate ivill. Or, although
the associates may come, the ratio which the impulsive
and inhibitive forces normally bear to each other may be
distorted, and we then have a luill lohich is perverse. The
perversity, in turn, may be due to either of many causes —
too much intensity, or too little, here; too much or too
little inertia there; or elsewhere too much or too little
inhibitory power. If loe compare the outward symptoms
of perversity together^ they fall into two groups, in one of
which normal actions are impossible, and in the other
abnormal ones are irrepressible. Briefly, ive may call them
respiectively the obstructed and the explosive ivill.
It must be kept in mind, however, that since the re-
sultant action is always due to the ratio between the
obstructive and the explosive forces which are present,
we never can tell by the mere outward symptoms to what
elementary cause the perversion of a man's will may be
due, whether to an increase of one component or a dimi-
nution of the other. One may grow explosive as readily
by losing the usual brakes as by getting up more of the
impulsive steam; and one may find things impossible as
well through the enfeeblement of the original desire as
through the advent of new lions in the path. As Dr.
Clouston says, " the driver may be so weak that he cannot
control well-broken horses, or the horses may be so hard-
mouthed that no driver can pull them up."
WILL. 431
The Explosive "Will. (1. From Defective Inhibition. —
There is a normal type of character, fur example, in which
im])ulses seem to discharge so promptly into movements
that inliibitions get no time to arise. These are the 'dare-
devil' and 'mercurial' temperaments, overlluViing with
nnimation and fizzling witli talk, which are so common
in the Slavic and Celtic races, and with which the cold-
blooded and long-headed English character forms so
marked a contrast. Simian these people seem to us, whilst
we seem to them re]itilian. It is quite impossible to jud^e,
as between an obstructed and an explosive individual,
svliich h;is the greater sum of vital energy. An exi)losive
Italian with good perception and intellect will cut a figure
as a perfectly tremendous fellow, on an inward cajjital
that could be tucked away inside of an obstructed Yankee
and hardly let you know that it was there. He will bo
the king of his company, sing the songs and make the
speeches, lead tlie parties, carry out the practical jokes,
kiss the girls, fight the men, and, if need be, lead the
forlorn hopes and enterprises, so that an onlooker would
think he has more life in his little finger tlian can exist
in tlie whole body of a correct judicious fellow. But the
judicious fellow all the while may have all these possi-
bilities and more besides, ready to break out in the same
or even a more violent way, if only the brakes were taken
off. It is the absence of scruples, of consequences, of
considerations, the extraordinary simplification of each
moment's mental outlook, that gives to the exjilosive
individual such motor energy and ease; it need not be
the greater intensity of any of his passions, motives, or
thoughts. As mental evolution goes on, (he c()mj)lexity
of human consciousness grows ever greater, and with il
the multiplic-ation of the inhibitions to which every im-
pulso is exposed. How much frciMloin of discourse we
Knglish folk lose because we feel oltligcd always to sj»eak
tlie truth! 'I'his predominance of iniiildtion has a bad
as well as a good side; and if a man's impulses are u»
438 P8TGH0L0QY.
the mam orderly as well as prompt, if lie has courage
to accept their consequeuces, and intellect to lead them
to a successful end, he is all the better for his hair-
trigger organization, and for not being ' sicklied o'er with
the pale cast of thought.' Many of the most successful
military and revolutionary characters in history have
belonged to this simple but quick-witted impulsive type.
Problems come much harder to reflective and inhibitive
minds. They can, it is true, solve much vaster problems;
and they can avoid many a mistake to which the men oi
impulse are exposed. But when the latter do not make
mistakes, or when they are always able to retrieve them,
theirs is one of the most engaging and indispensable of
human tjrpes.
In infancy, and in certain conditions of exhaustion, a&
well as in peculiar pathological states, the inhibitory
power may fail to arrest the explosions of the impulsive
discharge. We have then an explosive temperament
temporarily realized in an individual who at other times
may be of a relatively obstructed type. In other persons,
again, hysterics, epileptics, criminals of the neurotic class
called degeneres by French authors, there is such a native
feebleness in the mental machinery that before the inhibitory
ideas can arise the impulsive ones have already discharged
into act. In persons healthy-willed by nature bad habits
can bring about this condition, especially in relation to par-
ticular sorts of impulse. Ask half the common drunkards
you know why it is that they fall so often a prey to tempta-
tion, and they will say that most of the time they cannot
tell. It is a sort of vertigo with them. Their nervous
centres have become a sluice-way pathologically unlocked
by every passing conception of a bottle and a glass. The^y
do not thirst for the beverage; the taste of it may even
appear repugnant ; and they perfectly foresee the morrow's
remorse. But when they think of the liquor or see it, they
find themselves preparing to drink, and do not stop them-
selves: and more than this they cannot say. Similarly a
WILL.
439
man may lead a life of inceBsant lore-making or wmal
indulgence, though what spurs him thereto seems to be
trivial suggestions and notions of possibility rather than any
real solid strength of passion or desire. Such characters
are too flimsy even to be bad in any deep sense of the word.
The paths of natural (or it may be unnatural) impulse are
so pervious in them that the slightest rise in the level of in-*
nervation produces an overflow. It is the condition recog-
nized in pathology as * irritable weakness.' The pha.<c
known as nascency or latency is so short in the excitement
of rhe neural tis.>^ues that there is no opportunity for strain
or tension to accunmiute within them; and the cousequencje
is that with all the agitation and activity, the amount o:
real feeling engaged may be very small. The hysterical
tem})erament is the playground par excellence of tiiis
unstable equilibrium. One of these subjects will be tilled
with what seems the most genuine and settled aversion to
a certain line of conduct, and the very next instant follow
the stirring of temptation and plunge in it up to the
neck.
2.) From Exaggerated Impulsion. — Disorderly and Impul-
sive conduct may, on the other hand, come about where
the neural tissues preserve their i)roj)er inward tone, and
where the inhibitory power is normal or even unusually
great. In such cases the strength of the hnpulsive idea is
preternaturaUi/ exalted, and what would be for most
peojde the passing suggestion of a possibility becomes a
gnawing, craving urgency to act. Works on insanity are
full of examples of these morbid insistent ideas, in ob-
stinately struggling against which the unfortunate victim's
soul often sweats with agony ere at last it gets swept
away.
The craving for drink in real dipsvimaniacs, or for opium
or chloral in those subjugated, is of a strength of which
normal persons can form no concei)tion. " Were a keg
of rum in one corner of a room and were 8 cannon con-
stantly discharging balls betui.t, nio and it, I could not
440 PSYCHOLOGY.
refrain from passing before that cannon in order to get
the rum; " '* If a bottle of brandy stood at one hand and
the pit of hell yawned at the other, and I were convinced
that I should be pushed in as sure as I took one glass, I
could not refrain:" such statements abound in dipso-
maniacs' mouths. Dr. Mussey of Cincinnati relates this
case:
"A few years ago a tippler was put into an almshouse
in this State. Within a few days he had devised various
expedients to procure rum, but failed. At length, how-
ever, he hit upon one which was successful. He went
into the wood-yard of the establishment, placed one hand
upon the block, and with an axe in the other struck it
off at a single blow. With the stump raised and stream-
ing he ran into the house and cried, ' Get some rum! get
some rum ! My hand is off ! ' In the confusion and bustle
of the occasion a bowl of rum was brought, into which he
plunged the bleeding member of his body, then raising
the bowl to his mouth, drank freely, and exultingly ex-
claimed, 'Now I am satisfied.' Dr. J. E. Turner tells of
a man who, while under treatment for inebriety, during
four weeks secretly drank the alcohol from six Jars con-
taining morbid specimens. On asking him why he had
committed this loathsome act, he replied : * Sir, it is as
impossible for me to control this diseased appetite as it is
for me to control the pulsations of my heart.' "
Often the insistent idea is of a trivial sort, but it may
Mreai the patient's life out. His hands feel dirty, they
must be washed. He knows they are not dirty; yet to
get rid of the teasing idea he washes them. The idea,
however, returns in a moment, and the unfortunate victim,
who is not in the least deluded intelledualhi, will end by
spending the whole day at the wash-stand. Or his clothes
are not 'rightly' put on; and to banish the thought he
takes them off and puts them on again, till his toilet con-
sumes two or three hours of time. Most people have the
potentiality of this disease. To few has it not happen er*
WILL. 441
to conceive, after getting into bed, tliat they may have
forgotten to lock the front door, or to turn out the entry
giis. And few of us have not on some occasion got up to
re])eat the performance, less because we believed in the
reality of its omission than because only so could we banish
the worrying doubt and get to sleep.
The Obstructed Will. — In striking contrast with the
cases in which inhibition is insutlicient or impulsion in
excess are those in which impulsion is insutiicient or
inhibition in excess. "We all know the condition de-
scribed on }). 'Z\S, in which the mind for a few moments
seems to lose its focussing power and to bo unable to
rally its attention to any determinate thing. At such
times we sit blankly staring and do nothing. The objects
of consciousness fail to touch the quick or break the skin.
They are there, but do not reach the level of effectiveness.
This state of non-efficacious presence is the normal coti-
dition of so)tie objects, in all of us. Great fatigue or
exhaustion may make it the condition of almost all ob-
jects; and an apathy resembling that then brought about
is recognized in asylums under the name of abulia as a
svmptom of mental disease. The healthy state of the will
requires, as aforesaid, both that vision should be right,
and that action should obey its lead. Kut in the in()r])id
<'ondition in question the vision may be wholly unalTectt'd,
and the intellect clear, and yet the act either fails to
follow or follows in some other way.
" Video meliora probotjur, (leteriora serjunr''^ is the
classic expression of this latter condition of mind. The
moral tragedy of human life conies almost wliolly from
the fuft that the link is ruptured which normally should
hold between vision of the truth and action, and tiiat this
j)ungent sense of effective reality will not attach to certain
ideas. Men do not differ so muili in their mere feelings
and conceptions. Their notions of possibility and their
ideals are not as far apart as might be argued from their
differing fates. No class of them have better Kentiments
442 PSTCHOLOOT.
or feel mo**^ constantly the difference between the higher
and til*' iower path in life than the hopeless failures, the
sentimentalists, the drunkards, the schemers, the ' dead-
beats/ whose life is one long contradiction between knowl-
edge and action, and who, with full command of theory,
never get to holding their limp characters erect. No one
eats of the fruit of the tree of knowledge as they do; as
far as moral insight goes, in comparison with them, the
orderly and prosperous philistines whom they scandalize
are sucking babes. And yet their moral knowledge, always
there grumbling and rumbling in the background, — dis-
cerning, commenting, protesting, longing, half resolving,
— never wholly resolves, never gets its voice out of the
minor into the major key, or its speech out of the sub-
junctive into the imperative mood, never breaks the spell,
never takes the helm into its hands. In such characters
as Eousseau and Eestif it would seem as if the lower
motives had all the impulsive efficacy in their hands.
Like trains with the right of way, they retain exclusive
possession of the track. Tbe more ideal motives exist
alongside of them in profusion, but they never get switched
on, and the man's conduct is no more influenced by them
than an express train is influenced by a wayfarer standing
by the roadside and calling to be taken aboard. They
are an inert accompaniment to the end of time; and the
consciousness of inward hollowness that accrues from
habitually seeing the better only to do the worse, is one
of the saddest feelings one can bear with him through
this vale of tears.
Effort feels like an original force. We now see at one
view when it is that effort complicates volition. It does
so whenever a rarer and more ideal impulse is called upon
to neutralize others of a more instinctive and habitual
kind; it does so whenever strongly explosive tendencies
are checked, or strongly obstructive conditions overcome.
The dme lien nee, the child of the sunshine, at whose birth
the fairies made their gifts, does not need much of it in
WILL. 443
his life. The hero and the neurotic subject, on the other
hanil, do. Now our spontaneous way of conceiving the
effort, under all these circumstances, is as an active force
adding its strength to that of the motives which ultimately
prevail. When cuter forces impinge upon a body, we say
that the resultant motion is in the line of least resistance,
or of greatest traction. But it is a curious fact that our
spontaneous language never speaks of volition with effort
in this way. Of course if we proceed a priori and define
the line of least resistance as the line that is followed, tlie
physical law must also hold good in the mental splicre.
But we feel, in all liard cases of volition, as if the line
taken, when the rarer and more ideal motives prevail, were
the line of greater resistance, and as if the line of coarser
motivation were the more pervious and easy one, even at
the very moment when we refuse to follow it. He who
under the surgeon's knife represses cries of pain, or he
who exposes himself to social obloquy for duty's sake, feels
as if he were following the line of greatest temporary re-
sistance. He speaks of conquering and overcoming his
imjmlses and temptations.
But the sluggard, the drunkard, tlie coward, never talk
of their conduct in that way, or .say they resist their energy,
overcome their sobriety, conquer their courage, and so
fortli. If in general we class all springs of action as pro-
pensities on the one hand and ideals on the other, tlio sen-
Huali.st never says of his behavior that it results from a
victory over his ideals, but the moralist always sj)eak8 of
his as a victory over his propensities. 'Die sensualist uses
terms of inactivity, says he forget.s liis ideals, is deaf to
duty, and so forth; which terms seem to imply tiuit the
ideal motives per se can be annulled without energy or
effort, and that the strongest mere traction lies in the lino
of the jjropensities. The ideal iiujiulse appears, in com-
parinon with this, a still small voice which must ])e artifi-
cially reinforced to j)revail. KiTort is what reinforces it,
making things .seem as if, while the force of propensity
444 PSYCHOLOGY.
were essential^ a fixed quantity, the ideal foree might be
of various amount. But what determines the amount of
the effort when, by its aid, an ideal motive becomes vie
torious over a great sensual resistance ? The very great-
ness of the resistance itself. If the sensual propensity is
small, the effort is small. The latter is made great by the
presence of a great antagonist to overcome. And if a brief
definition of ideal or moral action were required, none
could be given which would better fit the appearances than
this : It is action in the line of the greatest resistance.
The facts may be most briefly symbolized thus, P stand-
ing for the propensity, I for the ideal impulse, and E for
the effort:
Iper se < P.
I + E > P.
In other words, if E adds itself to I, P immediately
offers the least resistance, and motion occurs in spite of it.
But the E does not seem to form an integrj^l part of the
I. It appears adventitious and indeterminate in advance.
We can make more or less as we please, and (/"we make
enough we can convert the greatest mental resistance into
the least. Such, at least, is the impression which the facts
spontaneously produce upon us. But we will not discuss
the truth of this impression at present; let us rather con-
tinue our descriptive detail.
Pleasure and Pain as Springs of Action. — Objects and
thoughts of objects start our action, but the pleasures and
pains which action brings modify its course and regulate
it; and later the thoughts of the pleasures and the pains
acquire themselves impulsive and inhibitive power. Not
that the thought of a pleasure need be itself a pleasure,
usually it is the reverse — 7iessun maggior dolore — as Dante
says — and not that the thought of pain need be a pain, for,
as Homer says, "griefs are often afterwards an entertain-
ment." But as present pleasures are tremendous rein-
forcers, and present pains tremendous inhibitors of what-