. . . These are the cavils commonly made use of against free will; though indeed a great many men insist upon one more; and fancy, that there is a fatality in the motion and position of the heavens, which influencing, not only all other things, but even our very desire and inclinations too, determines us in the opinions we shall espouse, and the choices we shall make.
And in confirmation of this argument, they produce the predictions of astrologers, who, upon calculating nativities, and finding what planet each person is born under, take upon them to pronounce very peremptorily, that such a one shall be a voluptuous person; a second, covetous; a third, a lover of learning and wisdom; and thus declare beforehand the inclinations and desires, which in the whole course of their lives, shall afterwards be discovered by their behavior and conversation.
Now these men could never say true, nor describe such tempers and practices so exactly as they do, if there were not some constellation, some fatal overruling influence, which enforces these particular inclinations and appetites, and puts it past men’s power to change or conquer them. And in any such fatality there be; how absurd is it to pretend to a power of regulating and determining our own desires, and of fixing them upon what objects we please, when we are absolutely and irrevocably staked down to this or that particular object beforehand, and must desire and pursue it, whether we will or no?
This, I think, is the sum of all the objections, commonly urged against that liberty we profess to assert, and the power of disposing our desire and our aversions, the resolutions we take, and the actions we do, as we see fit ourselves.
Now, in answer to the first of these, which made out wants the foundation of that pretended necessity and constraint; we may rely, that, if this were true, then want would always create desire. But this it does not do. For there are many things, and particularly, inanimate creatures, that are oftentimes in great want of some quality or other; heat, or cold, or drought, or moisture, and yet they never desire what they stand so much in need of. The reason is plain, because their nature is not capable of desire: for, in order to desire, it is necessary, both to have a sense of the thing desired, an to be moved by that sense: from whence it is plain, that want does not always infuse, or infer desire.
But the creatures, which are endued with a faculty of desiring, when they feel themselves in want, do then exert desire, in order to the relief of the wants they feel.
Thus (to illustrate the thing by a familiar instance) itching disposes us to scratch; and upon a sense of the uneasiness it give us, the hands apply themselves to the relief we want; but yet this itching does not give us the hands we scratch with: nor is it true, that the necessities of human life have invented the arts and trades made use of for the support of it.
For it is the mind of man, which invented them, saw the need there was of them, and took occasion from thence to seek out this relief. For all desire is a motion of the soul desiring, born and begun within, and exerted by the soul, when called out by any desirable object; but it is by no means infused into the soul from without.
Now the irrational life of brute beasts, being wholly corporeal, and having, in truth, little or nothing, but what is matter and body belonging to it, is troubled with no difference or distraction of desires, has no wants, except those relating to the body, to supply; and consequently, but one sort of desires to exert. And this constant uniformity in their case, makes us think them the effect, not of liberty, but necessity.
But now, the rational soul of man, being placed, as I said before, in a middle station, may be considered in a threefold capacity and disposition; one, that inclines it to the worst part, that is, the bodily and brutish; a second, that regards its own self; and a third, that better and more excellent part above it: so that here may be a threefold conversation, a threefold want, and a threefold desire.
When it gives itself tamely up to the body, and consults the brutish appetites and wants of that part only; then, of necessity, it complies and concurs with all the bodily desires. And this is that sort of desire, which captivates the will, and has brought the freedom of it to be a matter of so much controversy. But when it pursues the inclinations, and lives agreeably to the nature, either of its own self, or the excellent beings above it; then it exerts its faculties freely, and desires the good peculiar to these conditions, without difficulty or opposition.
Now the power and liberty of the soul consists in this; that, whereas nature has made her capable of desires of several qualities, some of a better and more excellent kind, and others of a worse and more vile; she can so far dispose of herself, as to fix upon either the one or the other of these sorts: which yet is done with this difference, that, by pursuing the worse her faculties are enfeebled and debased, and by following the better they are exalted and confirmed; for the choice of these is indeed truly and properly choice.
And hence we see it often happens, that when the body finds itself low and empty, and requires meat, or some other sustenance, the mind steps in and countermands this desire, with another overruling one of fasting or abstemiousness; and this too taken up possibly upon some religious account, or in obedience to some law, or perhaps, merely in point of prudence, as thinking it better upon its own account, or more conducing to the health of the body.
Now I think nobody can say, but the mind, in such a case, might, if it had so pleased, have complied with those first desires, as indeed we find the generality of people do upon these occasions; but you see, it exerted another opposite desire, and prosecuted that, as the greater good, and so more eligible of the two. So that Epictetus, looking upon the soul as endued with reason, might upon this account very justly say, that she had it in her power to qualify her desires, and to place them upon such or such objects, as she saw cause.
The next objection, which tells us, the object of desire necessarily excites the soul to a desire of it, must be acknowledged to have a great deal of truth in it; but yet not so much, as the persons who urge it imagine. For, the object does not move the soul to desire forcibly and mechanically, but by proposing itself, as something fit to be embraced; and thus calling forth those powers of the soul into action, which nature has qualified to meet, and to receive it: just as the sensible object does not infuse the faculty of sensation into the person who receives its impressions, nor draws him by violence to itself; but only presents itself to the eye, in such proportions as are proper for uniting with that organ of sense, which was ordained by nature, and fitted for that union.
And so the object of desire presents its convenience and fitness to the soul, and this invites such motions, as nature has provided proper for this purpose. Thus it must needs be; because we see, that, when desirable objects offer themselves, some people are, and others are not, affected with them; whereas, if the object were endued with such efficacy and power, as perfectly to constrain the person desiring; and if the motion of the mind were necessarily impressed by it, it must needs follow, that upon such occasions everyone must be affected with it, though perhaps not everyone in the same degree.
And, in truth, such an operation upon the mind would not be desire, but a violent impulse, or forcible attraction; such as we see, when one body is thrust forward, or dragged along by one another. For desire is a kind of expansion in the mind, as moving forwards towards the thing desired, without any local motion in the person desiring; such as we may resemble to a man’s stretching out his hand to meet or embrace one, while the rest of his body is in no motion. So that desire is a motion, begun originally, and proceeding from within; as are also our opinions, and the other things mentioned here by Epictetus.
This motion, indeed, is sometimes what it ought to be, and is duly proportioned to the nature of the thing, which we desire or conceive of: and sometimes it is mistaken and very different from it, when we are inclined to something, which to us appears very desirable, but is really what should rather provoke our aversion. For it shows us a gaudy outside to invite our desire, and has a great deal of hidden evil within, which all the while lies concealed, under some advantage, which the idea of this object flatters us with.
Thus the thief is carried away with an idea of gain and riches, as a desirable thing; and this keeps him from considering, or having any dread at all of that horrible evil, which lies sheltered under this gain, defiles his soul, and taints it with injustice, and then, as for any apprehensions of discovery, and imprisonment, and punishment, which are the only calamities so wicked a wretch fears; the excessive eagerness of his desires utterly overlooks and stifles all these; for he presently represents to himself, what a world of men do such things, and yet are never found out.
Now, thus much is plainly in our power, to examine this object of our desire more nicely; and to inform ourselves well, whether it be a real good and worth our pursuing; or whether it only cheats us with a fair outside and counterfeit appearance of good; as, particularly, in the instance of gain just now mentioned.
Nay, we may go something farther yet; for, we may correct and regulate our desires; may bring them to fix upon such objects only, as are truly desirable, and may teach them not to be imposed upon with false appearances. . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment