tremendous, we make through cowardice the great refusal.' In contrast to Celestine V to whom these words were supposed to apply, we have at the other extreme Luther making his very different refusal in the presence of Charles V: "So I believe: here I take my stand and I cannot do else."

We conclude, then, that there are always two factors in choice-valuation and motivation, neither of which can be zero, though in synthetic choice either may vary independently, inasmuch as the 'ratio' between alternative values may differ widely from that between the corresponding motives1.

Freedom.

§4. There is still, however, a question concerning choice to be considered that has divided mankind since thinking began and seems likely long to divide it-the endless controversy as to a so-called 'freedom of will.' So far as this question concerns psychology we have no need to avoid it. To talk in this connexion of will is, indeed, to lapse into the confusions of the old faculty-psychology. As Locke long ago urged: "The question is not proper, whether the will be free, but whether a man be free?” In the absence of external constraint, when a man does what he likes, we say he is 'externally free'; but he may still be the slave of every momentary impulse, and then it is said that he is not 'internally' free. The existence and nature of this internal freedom is the problem. But as such freedom is held to imply a certain sovereignty or autonomy of self over against bodily appetites or blind desires, there can obviously be no question of its existence till the level of self-consciousness is reached and maxims or principles of action are possible. The young child, the brute and the imbecile, even when they do as they like, have not this freedom; though they may be said to act spontaneously, that is without constraint, they cannot be said to act voluntarily in this higher sense. A resolutely virtuous man will have more freedom of this higher sort than the man of good moral disposition who often succumbs to temptation; but it is equally true that the hardened sinner has more of it than one still deterred in his evil ways by scruples of conscience. A man is internally

1 Cf. above, ch. xi, § 3, pp. 281 ff.

2 Essay concerning Human Understanding, II. xxi. 21: cf. §§ 18 ff.

free, then, whenever the ends he pursues have his whole-hearted approval, whether he say with Milton's Satan, "Evil be thou my good," or with Jesus, "Thy will be done." The recognition of freedom in this sense does not, however, commit us to allowing the possible existence of a liberum arbitrium indifferentiae, sometimes called 'absolute indeterminism'; for that would seem to differ in no respect from absolute chance or caprice. We come nearest to this 'contingent choice,' when, being 'free from' external constraints, we are 'free to' take either of two courses, which, however, are indifferent because of their triviality, or practically indistinguishable because of their identity, in value. Then it is that we feel sure we could have chosen differently, when, in fact, we have not deliberately chosen at all-an experience, however, that is possible only in the analytical form of choice. In sharp contrast with this we may consider such an experience as that of Luther at the Diet of Worms just now mentioned. So far from feeling free to act otherwise, Luther declared " Ich kann nicht anders," that is to say, Being what I am I must do as I do. There is nothing indeterminate here unless it be the situation for the outside observer: to him both the alternatives with which Luther was confronted appear objectively possible. In a similar situation Galileo recanted and what Galileo did Luther seemingly might have done, and would have done, had the temptation to which Galileo succumbed overmastered him. But, as it was, his decision, however optional from the outsider's standpoint, was for Luther himself a case of determinationdetermination in defiance of the threat of death that his enemies. without held over him. Was he then free? Not absolutely free certainly, since he was forced to choose, but free in the sense that the decision was made by him and not for him. It was a case of determination, indeed, but it was self-determination. And this, for psychology at any rate, is all that internal freedom

means1.

Self-determination is often interpreted as if it meant merely freedom from constraint but involved no freedom to initiate. A man, it is said, may be free to act as he likes but he is never

1 For the 'presentationist' psychology, of course, 'self-determination' is either unmeaning or has to be explained away (cf. Bain, The Emotions and the Will, 3rd ed. 1875, pp. 491 f.). But as in the last chapter, so here, it has not seemed necessary in view of what has been said earlier, to take the presentationist view into account.

free to like as he likes. His actions disclose his character, but character is nothing but nature modified by circumstances; and however much they may continue to modify it, it remains nothing but the resultant of these two. Operari sequitur esse, when all is said and done-a proposition just as applicable to a man as it is to a stone. This, the 'determinist' as distinct from the 'libertarian' view of conduct, may be disposed of—so far at least as we are here concerned with it by three or four brief remarks. (1) Whether or no metaphysics can tell us all about the real essence either of men or stones, certainly psychology cannot. So far as psychology goes, a man's nature is his character, that by which he is individuated,' whether it be called 'original' or 'acquired.' In psychology this distinction is entirely relative, a question simply of earlier or later, with no hint of first or last. Every man shares with others the specific nature that we call human; but this nature is equally entitled to be called the character that our psychological individual in the course of experience has gradually acquired. But no man shares with others the particular character that, together with his human nature, constitutes his concrete personality. The psychological individual in short-with whom we have been hitherto concerned-may be regarded as the type that covers all concrete individuals-so far as these are normal-but exhaustively represents none. (2) But analytic psychology,

we repeat, knows nothing about absolute origin; and cannot, therefore, talk of the nature of an experient who as yet has not begun to experience, or to be conditioned by circumstances, which is what all experience means. Precisely in this respect, a man, like all other experients, differs from a stone or thing; and in this wide sense we may say that experients or persons have a different nature from things. Persons literally work or strive (operari), things are only metaphorically said to do so: persons are not inert, merely passive or indifferent; they are active, interested and directive. It is appropriate therefore to talk of circumstances in their case but not in the case of inanimate things. (3) Circumstances, anyhow, carry a different meaning in each case: to deny this is to beg the question and to ignore plain facts. A weather-cock may be described as the mere sport of circumstances, a man is always more. He is not merely "a pipe for Fortune's finger to sound what stop she

please." For him circumstances are often but occasions. They may call for resource, test his strength or his principles, but often he turns them into opportunities for progress or at the worst he may struggle and defy them. Even if he succumb to a sudden temptation or to an overmastering passion he is not left unchanged. He may fall a second time more easily, he may, however, be wiser for his bitter experience; which, will depend on his character. But there are no such crises for things inert: for the living, life is full of them. So far from a man's character being determined entirely by circumstances it is circumstances that receive their character from him: otherwise they have no character at all. To him pertains the standard by which their values are appraised; and to him the motives they may occasion owe their strength'. (4) It is true of brutes that they

can like, but not distinguish too,

Nor their own liking by reflection know.

But it is not true of man as a rational being. Raised to the transsubjective standpoint through intercourse with his fellows, he has within his reach the gift to see himself as others see him, he has in conscience a standard by which to estimate even himself; he can by taking thought add to his mental, and still more to his moral, stature; he may now have an ideal and he can determine proprio motu to strive to realise it.

What that ideal is depends largely upon his present or 'acquired character,' i.e. upon what he has become in the course of experience. To study this process, the formation of character, in detail is beyond our pale; though so far as it is continuous with what lies within this, we shall attempt presently to discuss it somewhat further. Meanwhile we may claim on empirical grounds to have found that psychological freedom is not only negative but positive, not mere freedom from constraint but freedom to initiate, to turn circumstances to account, even-thanks to the ToÛ σT@ that reason affords-so to deal with oneself.

1 This question is discussed at greater length in The Realm of Ends, 2nd ed. 1912, pp. 283-291, and in consequence greater brevity has seemed permissible here. Cf. also K. Joël, Der freie Wille, 1908.

CHAPTER XVII

GENERAL SYNTHESIS OF MIND AND THE
CONCRETE INDIVIDUAL

The topic with which we began this essay in psychology was a general analysis of Mind, understanding by mind 'the subject of experience plus its experience.' The analysis was called general because it took 'no account of the specific differences between one concrete experience and another'.' The topic-with which the essay is to close the formation of character-pertains to a general synthesis of Mind, understood in the same sense; though the emphasis in this connexion will have to be on the experient rather than on the experience. The word 'character' usually means 'an outward and visible sign.' It would seem therefore to point to the objective structure, the so-called 'contents of mind'; here, however, 'characteristics' seems the more appropriate term. Psychologically 'character' is commonly held to imply 'the inward and spiritual' ground to which that structure ultimately owes its form the synthesizing subject manifested in the synthesis, that is to say.

Actually, of course, all synthesis must be concrete and particular, both as regards function and structure. It seems fitting, however, partly as a final retrospect, partly as opening out further problems, to consider synthesis in general without immediate reference to any actual synthesis such as the phrase 'formation of character' naturally suggests. Accordingly we shall try first to describe as much as we can know of the becoming of our psychological individual: he can hardly be said to have a particular character any more than anthropologically he can be said to have a particular physiognomy. Then in taking leave of him altogether we must glance at the problems he has enabled us for a time to evade, problems that 1 Cf. above ch. i, § 5, pp. 24 f.; ch. ii, § 2, p. 39, § 6, pp. 55 f.