certainly need not be greater on the whole, though there is commonly some new feature which is also compulsory. If I am looking for the solution of a complicated intrigue, when I first see this, it need not be richer than what I previously possessed, except in one feature, and on the whole it may be poorer. And suppose I long to see if my horse is at night in the field, I may have an image far more special than the dim form I can make out. But my desire is satisfied if the bare essentials are perceived within the context of the given outward space. Particularisation of an idea's content is in some cases what I desire, and its existence even in psychical fact is here to some extent accidental (MIND Xi. 313). But this is far from being the case everywhere.

III.

From this point we may pass straight to the essence of Volition. It is will when an idea produces its existence. A feature in present existence, not in harmony with that and working apart from it, gives itself another existence in which it is realised and where it is both idea and fact. And will is not a faculty or a separate kind of phenomenon. It is merely one special result of general laws and conditions,1 the main law of Individuation with its branches, Blending and Contiguity (Redintegration). If an idea works itself out ideally and subject to identity -the process is thought. If, on the other hand, it produces fact in which its character and existence are no longer discrepant, the process is will. And the other

kinds of phenomena could be easily shown to arise from other workings of the same laws and elements. But here, confining myself to volition, I will first state broadly the main principle, then defend it against objections, and add at the end a modification. We shall see the essence most easily, if we begin with internal will. Now mere thought need not be will in any proper sense of that term. If I begin with an idea, and its logical consequences develop themselves in my mind, it is true that this process is a series of new facts, and we may say, if we please, that these events are produced by the activity of thinking. But still the process is not will, because the result is not the existence of the original idea, and, throughout the process, the side of fact is merely accidental. Suppose, e.g., first, that my wandering thoughts come on one of Euclid's theorems and

with

Both here and in what follows, I suppose the reader to be acquainted my articles in MIND xi. 305, xii. 354.

that they are led to trace the argument; and suppose, secondly, that in addition I have at the beginning the idea of going through the argument,-the second of these cases is volition, while the first is not. For in the second we have a general idea of the proposition over against a psychical state with which at present it collides, and then we have in the result a process where the existence is the existence of, and proceeding from, this idea. But in the first case, there being no idea of the result, the result does not give to the idea existence. Or take the will to recollect: here I have first an idea of the thing wanted, but not its existence (what exists is discrepant with the content required); then the result gives me psychical fact containing my idea. But if, without being required, the thing, as we say, had come up, the result would still be a fact containing an idea, but this idea would not be one that has gone before and has gone on to produce its own existence, and therefore it would not be will. Thought must alter the phenomenal sequence, no doubt, but so also does mere emotion and again sensation. The question is whether this sequence has an ideal character, which, going before, has thus made its own existence in fact. And where this is not the case, the process is not will. Thought is not will except so far as there has been a will to think. But if we go on to ask how an idea can produce its own existence, the answer is-by Contiguity and also by Blending. By the first the end suggests the means, and by the second it reinforces whatever in psychical fact is already its own existence. I will not dwell upon this point, but pass on further to difficulties.

When we go on to volition where the end is not a thought but an outward event, there it may be said that our view comes to shipwreck at once. For there a bodily state is (or is implied in) the existence of the idea, and to make a bodily state we require a new agency. But I do not think so; I think we require merely the recognition that Association extends to the bodily side of mental states; and I assuredly could not call such an agency new, or anything but what I at least have always presupposed. I cannot even attempt here to lay down accurately the relation in which body and mind stand to each other, but shall assume that every psychical state has two aspects, and that these aspects once conjoined may redintegrate each the other. I am aware of the view that looks on mind as a bare effect, or at the most as a mere dependent concomitant. And I am aware of the view which denies wholly the interference of body with mind, or even goes on everywhere to make the 'cause' a mere occasion

upon which something else supervenes. And, considered as deductions from metaphysics, these views might be respectable though the first of them (as we find it) comes usually from the coarsest and most ignorant dogmatism. But I decline to enter such an atmosphere. To demonstrate the influence either of body on mind or of mind on body is obviously impossible; but there is evidence enough for each, and no more for one than for the other, and I am going to assume that this is so. But I do not suppose that bare mind ever works upon bare body. I assume that in a psychical state, which has both sides, the mental side may be the chief determining condition of a bodily result, and I cannot undertake here to define this further. Now, on this. assumption, when we pass from internal to external volition, no new principle will come in. The one principle that we require is that Association in its working should not be limited to bare mind. And since it has been clearly understood that the laws of psychology do not pretend to be ultimate and absolute truths, I see no ground for hesitation. The law will be that, if a state of body A1 and a state of mind B1 have occurred together, any one state with the quality of A or B (call it A2 or B2) will tend to bring in the other. How this law is to be interpreted, if we press for final truth, I refuse here to discuss.

I will deal now with volition directed externally, and shall at first keep to cases not dependent upon the so-called 'voluntary' muscles. The reader must understand that I am saying nothing about the origin of the will, but am aiming at its essence. And that its essence is not to be found, unless in connexion with these 'voluntary' muscles, seems to me a mere prejudice. An idea of a state of my salivary glands, or sexual organs, will produce its existence in fact. We hear of those who can blush, shiver, sweat or shed tears (Lotze, Med. Psych. p. 303), if their mind is set on it. And if we think of various sensations in parts of our bodies we can produce them at will, and can induce at our pleasure other bodily alterations through emotional excitement. Now on the one hand, I believe, the view could not be sustained that our striped or voluntary muscles are here the necessary agents; and on the other hand to deny that these changes are volitional would be to confess oneself refuted. With the nature of the process, considered physiologically, I am not concerned; but, as will, it is merely a case of our law. Where we have had a bodily

1

1 On this difficult question see Sully, Psych., pp. 593 ff.

state A1 with a psychical state B1, then, when B2 comes in, A tends to appear; and, if an idea of A is what produces the result, that result is volition. Blending too will supplement Contiguity; not that psychical and physical can be said to blend, but, where we have a local sensation of any kind whatever, there the idea of local change will assimilate itself with the sensation through their common basis, and, by strengthening that basis, will increase the bodily result. And, when we pass from these states to alterations produced through our voluntary muscles, the main principle is the same; and, abstracting as before from the question of origin, we can state it at once. Whenever any kind of mental state has been associated with a condition of our muscles, that state tends to reproduce that condition, and (as before) Blending may assist. Hence an idea of muscular movement, or of some end which implies it, will, given the proper associations, produce its own existence; and this without the invocation of any faculty such as Activity or Attention. With the physiological machinery I am not concerned, except to say that I should welcome with humble thankfulness any kind of finding from a jury of physiologists, if it confined itself to physiology.

This is the essence of volition, and, before I proceed to add a needful proviso, I will explain it further by considering some hostile doctrines. Prof. Bain, who perhaps has thrown more light on the Will than any other psychologist, would, I presume, reject the conclusion I have adopted. As to the connexion of the will with the voluntary' muscles Prof. Bain's doctrine is not clear to me, either on the side of body or of mind, and I will therefore not attempt to criticise it. And, where I feel that it is impossible for me to pass on in silence, my state is still one of a respectful inability to comprehend. What Prof. Bain seems to teach is that the will must be selfish, and that, for all that, disinterested actions exist. Such actions do exist, but, as I understand it, are not volitions, but proceed from the intellect. When a mother deliberately sacrifices her life, the good old fashion was to call this an illusion, by which the mother aimed at her own pleasure and hit something else. From this Prof. Bain dissents, and he holds the act to be unselfish. It is a disinterested action, but it is not will; on the contrary it is irrational, and comes from the intellect. And to the objection that the act is most palpably a volition, the reply, I suppose, is that, if this were the case, the will might be unselfish, which is not possible. But this strange confinement of volition to self-seeking action, so far from

appearing axiomatic, and a thing the opposite of which can call for no discussion, strikes my mind as in obvious conflict with fact. Indeed I should have ventured to consider it the plain refutation of any principle from which it comes. And, since I certainly cannot attribute this to Prof. Bain, and as certainly cannot find what else I should attribute, I must leave the matter as it stands with an expression of regret.

But, to pass on to another problem, it may be objected that desire is essential to volition, and that, unless the idea is felt pleasant, though it works, we have no will. This objection is defensible, and it was long before I ceased to consider it valid. But if we take acts from fixed ideas,' from mere suggestion, from imitation and obedience to the word of command-not to add hypnotic phenomena-I cannot see that desire is always present in volition. If an act is suggested, or ordered, and I do it, as we say, without thinking, it is a paradox to deny this in every case to be will; and the presence of desire is, by me at least, often not discoverable. Nay, on the contrary, the idea of the action may be painful.1 We can indeed argue that, there being a general desire to act or an uneasiness during inaction, the idea of acting must be pleasant, or again that, by setting up a tension and then suggesting relief, the idea becomes pleasant. This is legitimate, but quite insufficient to prove desire in every case. In the first place a tension and a readiness to act certainly need not be present before the idea comes; nor, when it comes, need the idea first be felt to be pleasant before it can move; and, again, if the idea makes the tension and so becomes pleasant by suggested relief, then the idea is acting already apart from its pleasantness, and we are trying to explain the cause by its effect. Nor where tension is set up does the idea always become pleasant at all. Further it is not true that in all cases a tension exists. In a sudden act not only may we fail to be aware of it, but there seems to be no interval long enough for its origin. We can of course postulate that which we fail to observe, but why should we do so? Why should the idea working itself out not be a volition? If we deny this, we should stand on something better than a mere preconception as to the necessity in all cases of pleasure and pain.2 Let us go on to consider other possible objections.

An

1 I would remark here that, if we intend to make means and end essential to volition, we need to lay down that doctrine with more limitation than is usual.

2 The attitude both of Mr. Sully and Mr. Ward is to me somewhat puzzling here. They seem to consider the question scarcely worth discussing; but I cannot understand why.