and that the one beyond it, and so to the last. He desires and intends to overturn the last at a particular moment; but the only act of will that he puts forth is that by which he moves his own muscles so as to attempt to overturn the first. Till that be done, the state of his mind may be desire or inclination, but is not an exercise of will. A king or general of an army, by writing his name on a bit of paper, or uttering a single word, may cause a city a hundred miles off to be sacked, and its inhabitants massacred; and in ordinary language, he is said to have willed that catastrophe: but, speaking in strict correctness, the only act of his will was the movement of his muscles to write his name, or to utter his word of command. He desired and intended the destruction of the city, but he could will only the movement of his own muscles. This writing his name to an order, or uttering his command by his voice, was like the overturning the first block of wood, by which all the others in the row were overturned. But what is it that moves the will? This, too, is a subject on which there has been much subtile controversy. We can afford space only to glance at the subject. The great point in controversy is, whether the will has a self-determining power, or whether it is itself necessarily moved from without. We have seen that the will, by its direct acts can move only the voluntary muscles of the body. What moves it to move them? It seems obvious that the mind must have some reason for moving the members of the body. For many of these movements there may be very slight reasons, but for all of them there must be some reason. Much has been said and written as if the will and the mind were different beings; but the will is merely the mind in a certain state. The impulse of a motive is one state of the mind, the act of the will is another. The one is the mind considering, desiring, intending; the other is the mind acting. Now, can the mind act on the body without the previous state of considering, desiring, intending to act? To speak as if the will had a selfdetermining power, independently of other faculties or states of the mind, is to speak unintelligibly. The will, we have said, as distinguished from other faculties of the mind, is the mind acting on the body. And how can acting be self-determining, when determining is a different state of the mind from willing, that is, acting according to previous determination ? But is the will necessarily acted on by motives?— that is, is the will necessarily influenced or acted on by the previous determination? The answer is, certainly it is so. What is there to move the mind to act on the body but its own determination? We must, therefore, go a step further back, and ask, what moves the mind to determine on acting? Surely not a will previous to determination, for the will has no direct power over any mental operation, but simply over the body. The determination is fixed by the desire of effecting or attaining some object. I am hungry and I see food before me. I, by an act of the will, stretch out my hand to take it. But the food that I see belongs to some other person, and I have no right to take it. If I be honest, therefore, that consideration will neutralise the desire for that particular food, and I determine not to take it, and the will is quiescent; but if I be dishonest, that consideration will not neutralise the desire, and I shall stretch out my hand for it notwithstanding; nay, perhaps with all the greater avidity that it does not belong to me. Much has also been said on this subject, as if the motives were external to the mind, whereas the motives are always in the mind itself, and consist of its desires. Some authors have spoken of the mind as if it were a kind of balance necessarily swayed to the one side or the other by the weights appended to it, these weights being external objects presented to it. It is true its desires are often excited by external things, but whether they be so excited or not, depends on the state of the mind itself. Food presented to a man not hungry, excites no desire to eat. A piece of gold laid in the way of a person who does not know the value of it, will excite in him no desire to take it, neither would it excite any such desire in the mind of an upright man; but it might excite the most ravenous desire in the mind of a thief. Two men, the one strong, the other weak, walked together through a lonely forest by night, and the weak man is known to have a large sum of money with him. The effect of these circumstances on the mind of the strong man will entirely depend on its previous If he were a thief and a ruffian, his position might prove an overpowering temptation to rob, and perhaps also to murder the weak man. If he were an upright and humane man, no such thought would be suggested, or if suggested as a mere speculation, it would excite no such desire on the contrary, the desire excited would be to protect the weak man, and see him safely out of a place where he might be exposed to danger from others. state. Much also has been said as if a man's character were determined by the acts of his will, and as if he were responsible only for these acts. But the acts of the will, or rather those acts of the mind which are called the will, are the mere indication of the previous state of the mind. It is true that a man is not morally accountable for acts that are involuntary. An electric shock might make a man plunge a knife into the body of another; but for that act he would not be accountable, for it was not the act of his mind, but merely a spasm of his muscles over which he had no control. It is true, also, that before a human tribunal a man can be held responsible only for his act; but before God he is accountable for his purposes and desires, as well as his acts. Nay, even human laws pay regard to the intention. One man kills another. The law regards that act as primâ facie evidence of evil intention; but it admits proof to rebut the primâ facie evidence, and to acquit the manslayer of evil intention. A man's moral character is determined not by the acts of his will, but by the motives that operate on his will. The master of a passage canal-boat stated to one of his passengers, that, a few nights previously, he had a woman as his only passenger, who told him that she had three hundred pounds with her. This she let him know, that she might be the more secure from robbery. He went on to say, that he never had been in so great a state of excitement as he was the whole of that night; but that at last his good purposes overcame his evil thoughts towards the woman, and he seemed to ascribe considerable merit to himself that he had let her off uninjured. Now, was this man a robber and murderer, or not? If that is to be determined solely by the acts of his will, he was no robber or murderer, for he committed no such act. But he desired the woman's money; and what prevented him from taking it? If it was reluctance to murder, then he was only a robber in his heart, but not a murderer. If it was merely the dread of detection that prevented him from robbing and murdering the woman, he was both a robber and murderer. If it was the fear of Hell that prevented him, it was his superstition; for if he had been really a man who feared God, he would have felt no desire for the woman's money, he would have experienced no agitation about it, and his only care would have been to see her in safety at her destination. The will is moved by previous desires, but these desires are influenced in various ways; modified, quickened, deadened, or altogether neutralised by perceptions, suggestions, considerations of infinite diversity; and the will, that is, the act of the mind on the body, necessarily obeys the determination to which the mind comes; and over these previous operations, that end in the act of the mind called the will, the will itself, that is, the act of the mind, can have no influence whatever. A theological argument has been introduced into the controversy, namely, that if the will was not necessarily moved by motives, the acts of man could not be foreseen nor directed by the Deity. To this it has been answered, that if the foreseeing the acts of men implies that they are governed by necessity, then God's foreseeing his own acts must imply that they, too, are governed by necessity. We conceive this train of reasoning to be totally irrelevant, and can see no force either in the argument, or the reply to it. Suppose the mere thought of committing a crime were to cause any man violent pain in any part of his body, it might be predicted that he would abhor the thought, and much more the commission, of the crime. And if a man's mind be in a state that the thought of a crime causes horror, or any mental distress, it may be as clearly foreseen and predicted that he would not commit the crime. If, on the other hand, his mind were in such a state that it would be torture to him not to commit a crime (for example, not to drink intoxicating liquors, or not to revenge an injury), it might be foreseen and predicted with equal certainty, that he would, if he had opportunity, commit the crime. Yet in neither case does the man act from necessity, for in the one case he might, if he chose, do violence to his feelings, and commit the crime; and in the other case he might do equal violence to his feelings, and refrain from committing the crime. The whole power of the motive depends on the state of the mind; and if the state of the mind be foreseen, the acts of the will in given circumstances may be foreseen also. But Some argue that a man who resists strong temptation has greater merit than a man who is not tempted. the question of merit has nothing to do with the condition of a man's mind. A man who has a strong desire to G |