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SECTION PAGE
I. General Notions About Will-Training . . 15
II. Religion and Will-Training 25
Section I General Notions About Will-training
SECTION I
GENERAL NOTIONS ABOUT WILL-TRAINING
Those who think of devoting themselves to body-training are not repelled by the knowledge that daily exercises, which demand a certain sacrifice of time, and a certain expenditure of effort, are called for. It seems to them quite reasonable to pay the cost of what they buy. They are purchasers of well-developed muscles and finely shaped limbs, and they pay readily in daily portions the price, which is bodily exercise. In like manner those who wish to train their memories are quite prepared to undertake certain tasks at certain times. It would be strange if it were otherwise with those who desire to train their wills.
Will-training is, of course, a gradual process, and in this it resembles body-training and memory-training. Little by little the will is built up. Little by little it is developed and perfected and frees itself from taint and disease. It is a slow process, but a very sure process. It demands, needless to say, much time and much earnestness.
Over and above time and earnestness, will-training costs effort, and that means .self-sacrifice. Indeed, it is true to say that will-training costs what we are least ready to pay, for the discipline of daily exercises means self-sacrifice. It is better to admit this at once, f and not to pretend that a strong will can be \ bought with a cheque, or won with a smile. Strange to say, in order to train the will, will is needed. Will is self-trained. Will \ works on itself and perfects itself. If it did not preexist in us, there would be nothing to perfect, and no source of strength wherewith to work. For the will is called on at every step in will-training. It is the will which builds up the will by willing. Perhaps, for the moment, these words are not plain and clear, but presently they will become so.
In will-training no expenditure of effort is fruitless. All is banked for some future occasion. But more than this, we begin to draw interest at once on what we bank. Our will grows stronger gradually, and day by day we derive benefit from the exercises we have already accomplished. This means very much, as the will enters into every action. Indeed, no faculty is so universal in its scope of activity as the will. From tying a boot-lace in the
NOTIONS ABOUT WILL-TRAINING
morning to switching off an electric lamp at night, the will enters into all we do.
The question will doubtless be asked, "Is it possible to train the will! If one is already advanced in age, is it still possible 1" The answer is most de cidedl y in the afcmative. It is always possible to train, that is, to improve the will. No matter how weak and inefficient the will may have become, yet is it still possible to train it.
There is no doctrine held more tenaciously by sane psychologists than this doctrine of the possibility of restoring and rebuilding the will, even when things have gone very far.
Some wills, of course, seem more capable than others of reaching a high degree of perfection. Not many men could acquire the will-power to joke about death and suffering, like Sir Thomas More or St. Laurence, even when in the hands of executioners. But all men can increase the strength of their will, and can so far throw off lethargy and laziness of character as to become energetic and strenuous.
Having prefaced these observations about the need for time, and effort, and gradual development in will-training, it may be well to indicate an important distinction between "reform of character' ' and " increase of will-power.' '
Many authors regard the "education of the will" as synonymous with self-perfection, self-culture, and the reform of character. As a result, in books which profess to deal with will-training, much is said about the passions, ideals, sensuality, habits, meditation, day-dreaming, idea-force, self-conquest and such topics, but little is said of the precise means of curing will-disease and of acquiring will-force. Indeed, it would seem that the word will is taken in far too broad and too general a sense, and that reform of character is looked upon as quite the same thing as increase of will-power. Now this is certainly not so.
It is quite conceivable that a man should have a very strong will, and yet care very little for culture or for the observing of the moral law. And further, it is quite conceivable that a man should set himself to develop and train his will, and should succeed in so doing, without ever entertaining the idea of making himself a more noble or more ideal character.
Men train their memories without any reference to morality, and men may well train their wills without any reference to morality. Without doubt when will-strength is acquired,
NOTIONS ABOUT WILL- T E A INING
passion can more easily be controlled. Without doubt, too, it usually happens that virtue and true strength of will go hand in hand. But this does not gainsay the fact that virtue and will-strength are two quite different things, and that books professedly written on the "education of the will" should not be almost exclusively devoted to the consideration of good habits and self-culture.
A book on will-training should be as closely devoted to will-exercises, will-hygiene, and will-phenomena, as a book on body-training should be devoted to body-exercises, body-hygiene, and muscular phenomena.
The will, like the intellect, is now an instrument of good, and now of evil. The strong will, still improving and growing stronger, may become more and more an instrument of evil. It may co-exist with vicious passions, gross lack of culture, deplorable habits, and an utter contempt for the conventions of life. The will is an instrument, weak or powerful for good or evil, but only an instrument, although as our highest and noblest instrument it should be our object ever to perfect and raise it. That it is important to have a strong will no one will deny. We all admire the man of strong will — he is more truly a man than other men. He has the power to master himself — to become "lord of himself " and sole ruler of his own forces. He knows what he can do. He does what he sets himself to do. He wills to do what he does, and means what he wills. He knows his own mind, and puts his hand with confidence to do that on which he is resolved, neither over-imp etuonsly nor over-indolently. Lethargy has no hold on him, and he scorns to give way to impulse. Energetic and strenuous without being over-active, he is consistent and persevering. He is in earnest about his work, in beginning it, in continuing it, and in concluding it. He goes not a step beyond, nor does he fall a step short, of the just limit of his purpose. He uses his powers with ease and with assurance. He seems, as it were, to have possession of his own will; to be free in his independence. He wills. His body in his hands is like a machine which he uses to accomplish his ends. That machine is started without a hitch, is governed and regulated as to speed and direction most smoothly, and is pulled up without a jerk by his will. No engine-driver can control a locomotive as he controls his body. He does not care, usually, about boasting, or bullying, or flattering. He is too strong for that. He is not over-anxious
NOTIONS ABOUT WILL- TR AININ G
to display his force. He knows lie has power and he does not care if others know it or not. Rather, perhaps, he is aware that others do know and feel it intnitively. He does not display his will-force by clenching his fists, and grinding his teeth, and convulsively heaving his breast like the heroes of the cinema. He is content to face his daily tasks with quiet assurance, and to carry out what his will wills.
SECTION II EELIGION AND WILL-TEAINING section n
The only will-training which the plain man undergoes is the will-training which the practice of religion affords. This is, of course, a very variable quantity. Nevertheless, in the case of a man who faithfully adheres to his religious duties it is not inconsiderable. It will be our duty now, as far as possible, to estimate its nature and extent.
In Catholicism, for it is the religion we contemplate, there are many factors which tell for the education and improvement of the will. There is, first of all, the earnest striving towards the Summum Bonum, towards God, which is the central fact of religion, and the great, supreme work of the will. There is next, the principle of asceticism, viz., that given a good intention in a moral act, the more strongly and whole-heartedly we will, the more value the act will have — for willing, as we know, can be more or less intense. 1 There is, thirdly, the discipline of regularity and fidelity in religions exercises ; and, lastly, the practice of internal and external mortification, which is boldly and uncompromisingly insisted upon by the Church — " unless you do penance you shall all perish."
Two principles on which Catholic asceticism to a great extent reposes have close reference to the will.
(1) In acts of worship the most important element, the element whereby we merit, is will and intention.
(2) In attaining virtue and self-perfection, our chief aim should be to go against ourselves, that is, to utilise our will in overcoming passion.
The Catholic religion calls for great regularity in worship. There are yearly, and weekly, and daily duties. There are vigils of feasts and long periods, Lent and Advent, to be kept in the spirit of penance. There are
1 Vide St. Thomas (De Malo, q. 3, a. 11 ad 3), where he refers to greater or lesser intensity of willing.
duties, hard and severe for the human heart, to be undergone. Confession, and fasting, and weekly Mass. In all things the spirit of order prevails — even in the smallest details. How and when to use Holy Water, how and when to recite the Office — in all particulars there is perfect method. The discipline of the whole system is faultless. There is no disorder, no uncertainty. Nothing is left to chance. The will submits to rule, and in embracing religion it embraces order and regularity. It seeks to form for itself good habits, and finds therein the foundation of virtue. It finds, in fact, that in practising virtue it is learning to will well, and that in willing well it is practising virtue.
As we shall see later on, one of the best exercises for the will is to put before itself a clear, well-defined task which is not too difficult and to' set itself in all earnestness to accomplish it. Now, this is precisely the kind of exercise that religion affords the will. Let the task be to attend Mass next Sunday, or to fast next Friday, or to make restitution on such a date for something stolen. In each case the duty is clear and well-defined. Seriousness and earnestness in the accomplishment of the duty, are in each case evoked by the consideration of the moral gravity of neglecting it. The will has to brace itself up, to face the task bravely, and to fulfil it completely. An effort is called for, and that effort is good for the will.
But further than this religion improves the will by calling for reiterated efforts. An isolated effort is of little significance in will-education, whereas regularly repeated efforts mean very much. Now religion calls for the methodical expenditure of effort. Let us take the simple case of morning prayers. It is not enough to say them occasionally or fairly often. We are ashed to say them every morning. That is, we are asked, every morning, to make an effort. So it is for nearly all the duties of religion. They recur. They demand reiterated efforts. The will is not suffered to lie fallow. It is kept constantly at work. No doubt, habit smoothes away the harsh shock of effort, and automatism comes to our help, but nevertheless there is always the fundamental necessity of making efforts. One of the points in which religion does most for the will is its regard to resolutions. To make and keep a good resolution is a power that every faithful Catholic has to acquire. Now to resolve is an act of the will. It means that the will chooses a bonum, an end or object, and aims at its acquisition. It wills, seeks, strives for, and desires that bonum with more or less intensity.
Now, as our whole moral good frequently depends on the making and keeping of a good resolution, the Catholic Church has taught us through her ascetic writers how to do so. Further, she aids us in every way to make and keep good resolutions, thus doing an inestimable work for the education of the will.
It may perhaps be well to dwell on this point, so as to bring out clearly the part of religion in will-training.
Catholic ascetics teach us, in this matter, first of all to have a clear and definite view of the object we propose to ourselves — let us suppose that it is to overcome the passion of anger. Now the resolution "not to give way to anger' ' would be far too broad and too great. Applying the principle, "divide et impera," we content ourselves with resolving "not to give way to external manifestations of anger." But here again, our resolution is too broad and too great. "We again apply the principle, "divide et impera, 9 * and resolve "not to give way to angry retorts." This resolution is pointed, definite and intelligible — it means that cross and peevish remarks must not occur. A time limit may now be added in order to make the resolution still more well-defined. " Until the last day of this month I will not make an angry retort. ' ' Possibly, it might be advisable to limit this resolution still more, by conditions of place or circumstance, adding "in such a place or to such a person, or during such a ceremony/ ' but we shall suppose that to be unnecessary.
The resolution being now well formulated, the task of making it begins. Merely to say it over or to promise it in a feeble way is absolutely useless. The whole will, with the whole force and energy of the will, must be brought into it. Not only that, but the whole living strength of the will must be literally hurled into it, not once or twice, but again and again each day, right up to the very last day of the month.
The resolution must be meant. "We must be able to say, i ' Yes ! before God, I mean that ! I mean it as intensely and really as I can ever mean anything! I will keep that resolution. I know I can and will keep it because I mean it. Further, I will take every precaution to keep it alive and vigorous within me by remaking it again and again."
Needless to say such resolutions should not be lightly made, nor should they be trifled with. In them the credit of the will is at stake. It
EELIGION AND WILL-TRAINING
is a serious thing to make a serious resolution, and it is a bad thing to break one, bad for the will and bad for self-respect.
Now, Catholic writers suggest many means whereby we may render our resolutions more secure. 2 We must pray for the grace to keep them. Supernatural aid will then be ours ; but prayer will also aid us naturally. We must meditate on the advantages of keeping it and on the disadvantages of breaking it, on the beauty of patience and on the pettiness and shame of irritability. Our mind will be convinced by this means, and our emotions will be aroused in favour of the resolution. Next, we are advised to intensify our resolution not merely by direct will-acts, but by indirect will-acts derived from self-inflicted penance. For pain and hunger will make us more in earnest and will make our "meaning" more sincere.
Such, in general, is the method which Catholics are taught to employ in the matter of resolutions. Needless to say, if this method is faithfully employed the will grows strong and energetic — its good qualities are developed and
2 One practical method is to make the "Particular Examem" which consists in a half- daily examination of our failures or success in our resolution.
its faults are corrected. Of course, it must not be thought that religion in itself wholly consists in making and keeping good resolutions. This is not so. Nevertheless, to a great extent, religion depends on the making and keeping of good resolutions, as on its method. It may perhaps be well to take a type of will-hero, whose strength of will was the outcome of religion. Such a one was John Berchmans, a young Flemish Jesuit of the early seventeenth century. 3 His name is unknown to the literary and political world, but none the less he was possessed of remarkable gifts of mind. The chief note of his character was moderation and good-sense, combined with an extraordinary tenacity of purpose. If he put before himself some end to be gained, he devoted his whole strength towards achieving it, and he regarded every tiny detail involved in this pursuit of his end as of the most serious consequence — maximi minima Jiabuit. He combined the qualities of miser and spendthrift in such matters, being most miserly about allowing himself the slightest deviation from his purpose or the slightest delay in winning it, whereas he was most lavish and generous in giving himself and all he had to
8 Such another was the better-known St. Teresa. 32 the working out of his aim. In him the maxim was verified to the fullest: "Suae quisque vitae pictor est; artifex hujus operis est voluntas." He set himself to become a saint in a new way, by doing ordinary things extremely well, and thanks to his lifelong pertinacity of purpose he gained his end.
That he sought in religion strength and inspiration is of course indisputable. To fulfil perfectly all his religious duties was the main object of his life, and it was in fulfilling them that the promptness, consistency and persevering regularity of his will were manifested.
It would not be difficult to find among the annals of the Saints many other examples of will-heroes: some were men of extraordinary energy, like Francis Xavier, some of extreme gentleness, like Francis de Sales, some of cold intellectual intensity, like Ignatius, some of child-like sweetness, like Antony of Padua. In each case great will-strength followed in the wake of religious perfection. In each case converse with God raised and developed the willfaculty, just as it improved every other faculty of the mind.
We have seen at some length that the practice of religion implies will-training, but nevertheless it must be remembered that it is not the special aim of religion to train the will. 4 It does so only indirectly, and it does not always do so as perfectly and as surely as we might wish. It seems necessary to have some specific training. To train the will, as it were, for the sake of the will itself, for the sake of the perfection of the will, and not for the sake of other things. 5
The will must be taught, to some extent, to will for the sake of willing. The will builds
4 From one point of view it is the object of religion to train the will — to train it to abstain from sin and to train it to embrace God by will — love.
5 We append a quotation from a paper read at the ' ' International Congress of Moral Education, ' ' 1912, by Dr. J. H. Abendanon. Making allowance for hjg^point of view, the quotation is of interest and instructive.
"On pretend souvent que la religion peut suffire a, 1 'education morale, c'est-a-dire a la formation du caraetere et a l'affermissement de la volonte. II est cependant de notoriete courante que la foi religieuse n'est pas un empechement pour commettre des actes criminels. Sans cela la statistique criminelle devrait varier d'apres le degre de religiosite des differentes countries. La religion peut cooperer d'une fac,on tres efficace a, 1 'education morale; elle en est meme un des plus puissants auxiliaires, et les belles maximes qu'elle repand sont les meilleurs guides dans la vie humaine, mais seulement a condition d'aller de pair avec le relevement et l'exercice continuel de la volonte. C'est en outre une chose reeonnue par ceux qui sont a la tete des ecoles confessionelles que 1 'education y presente une lacune. Eh bien, cette lacune n 'est autre chose que le defaut de controle de la volonte. Ce defaut fait que le meillcur enseignement moral reste sans effet pratique. ' '
up will by willing. As we shall see later, it -builds up will best by willing will. The will must, as it were, turn back on itself in willing, and will will. Exercises calculated to provoke willing for the sake of willing are necessary. We must feel the pure glow of pleasure involved in willing for the sake of the will. Just as the intellect or memory must be trained, apart from the training they receive in the practice of religion, so must the will be trained apart from the training it receives in this manner.
It must not, however, be overlooked that will-training of itself, without relation to religion and morality, is in great part meaningless. For, as Professor Forster writes, "All our efforts are lacking in deeper meaning if they are not correlated to a great spiritual view of life as a whole. Even the most perfect development of will-power tends to degenerate into a mere athletic exercise without enduring significance. ' ' 6
8 "Marriage and the Sex Problem,' ' p. 207.
SECTION III THINGS ABOUT THE WILL section in THINGS ABOUT THE WILL
We know little about the will. We are aware of its spiritual nature, and we can trace it roughly in some of its activities. We are familiar with, some of the phenomena which accompany willing, but that is all. Compared with the knowledge we have of the memory, what we know of the will is as nothing. We are unable to measure it, to distinguish its various types, or to juggle with it in experimentation as in the case of the memory. It is elusive. It baffles us and escapes from observation. We make plans whereby to catch a glimpse of it in its working and our plans fail. We know we have wills and that we will. We are conscious that willing is not thinking nor imagining. Most of us know little more.
The method by which we seek to study the will is the introspective method. We look into ourselves and try to see what happens. We have a choice to make. The will decides for one or other of the alternatives. We carefully follow the movements of the will. The play of motives and of impulses interests us. Hesitation perhaps takes place and we follow its growth and development. The choice-process proceeds, develops, is completed and the choice is made. But although we know that the will has made its appearance and has acted the essential role, we have not been able to distinguish it!
Yet, whatever of importance we do know about the will is known through introspection. Patience and practice and skill in introspection eventually result in our being able to observe the will somewhat, and to distinguish the characteristics of good willing. It is fascinating work, that of studying the will, but it is difficult and delicate. It is not hard to affirm that there is a will-feeling which is quite different from other feelings or emotional states, but it is not easy to analyse and distinguish the ingredients of the will-feeling. It is easy to see that consent is different from resolution, but it is not so easy to point out the precise difference, in psychological elements, between these two acts of the will. Yet it is by introspection alone that this can be done. The mind must watch and follow and scrutinise the vari-
THINGS ABOUT THE WILL
ous phases of volitional activity. The mind has this power, and it is a power worthy of exercise.
Many words and phrases denote volitional activities. "To make up one's mind," to resolve, to consent, to desire, to strive, to choose, to make an effort — these infinitives point to will acts. Conation, intention, willing, inhibiting, controlling, permitting, preventing, and many such words are also used of the will. When a man of character, at some crisis of his life, makes up Ms mind to adopt a certain course, and says, "I will do so and so. I am determined to do it. It is my firm intention to do it" — he is speaking of a certain state of soul that we call willing. This state is radically different from all other states. It is about action. It is emotional. It concerns self and is very personal. It is a law and a line of conduct. It binds and controls. It is creative and arbitrary. It means self-determination. Self rules self. It is about the future. It is about reality. It is something almost sacred.
The will has been defined as "the faculty of inclining towards or striving after some object intellectually apprehended as good." We know that there is an active side in us — a ' ' doing" side as well as a mere recipient or passive side. We tend outwards, we attack or carry out at one time; at another we submit, undergo and suffer. Now the former state, the "ad" state, is that of willing. But we must tend towards something. The something towards which we tend by nature is "the good." The intellect sees and knows something useful or perfect. Our interest is aroused. "We are attracted by this something. At first a mere fancy or a vague wish is experienced. Then a stronger wish grows into a desire. "With the desire a certain tending towards is awakened. The will is now at work. We are striving, or seeking for the good. This develops into conation and deliberate effort to attain the good. The striving for the good is a force — a vis appetitiva — it is the function of the will. It may be more or less strong. It grows or wanes. It may be deep in our nature or shallow and light. If very weak and transient it will not entail long protracted work and effort. At most it will entail an impulsive effort. Or it may entail no active effort, but may only provoke a hesitation and dilatoriness of mind. Now the art of rendering this vis appetitiva deep and strong and lasting is the art of strengthening the will. With the
THINGS ABOUT THE WILL
man of strong will, the vis appetitiva is so powerful that it overcomes all obstacles, faces all difficulties, and outlives all delays. From this it is perhaps clear that the will is "the faculty of inclining towards or striving after some object intellectually apprehended as good."
It may be well to give a concrete example. Let us suppose that a boy of fifteen accompanies his father, who is a keen mountainclimber, to Switzerland. The boy overhears his father speak of a grand climb up a difficult summit. The boy's interest is aroused. His mind pictures the pleasure and honour to be gained by climbing this mountain. The achievement appears to him a bonum. His mind apprehends it as such. He begins to wish to do it. The wish grows. He desires. Finally he resolves to climb the mountain. He is delayed and perhaps prevented for a time. He desires and resolves all the more. Day by day his resolution grows stronger. He strives to find a good opportunity. He makes plans. He saves up to pay for guides. He makes every possible preparation. He is most energetic about this and quite naturally, for his will is bent on it. Everything which is calculated to help on his plans becomes desirable, becomes a bonum. He takes a keen pleasure in his resolution. At last an opportunity presents itself, and at once, almost without an effort, he is at work climbing. In the actual fulfilment of his resolution he finds pleasure. When he succeeds and reaches the top he experiences a deep feeling of satisfaction. "The object' ' intellectually apprehended as good has been won!
All his acts leading up to the attainment of his end were directed by his will. The vis appetitiva carried him over all obstacles, and controlled all his movements until the bonum was gained.
We have used the expression "to will will" more than once. A word of explanation may now be offered.
It often happens that we see before us some task or work of considerable difficulty that we are inclined to shirk. We realise that it would cost us a big effort and we feel very disinclined for such an effort. Still we are intimately aware that should we set our minds to it, we could accomplish it. If ive did resolve to achieve the task we could achieve it. But we refrain from willing. We refuse to set our wills to the task.
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