<h1><SPAN name="chap12">XII.</SPAN></h1>
<h2>THE WILL.</h2>
<p>The Will is of such primary importance that the student should be on his
guard against any mistake as to the position which it holds in the mental
economy. Many writers and teachers insist on will-power as though that were
the creative faculty. No doubt intense will-power can evolve certain
external results, but like all other methods of compulsion it lacks the
permanency of natural growth. The appearances, forms, and conditions
produced by mere intensity of will-power will only hang together so long as
the compelling force continues; but let it be exhausted or withdrawn, and
the elements thus forced into unnatural combination will at once fly back
to their proper affinities; the form created by compulsion never had the
germ of vitality <i>in itself</i> and is therefore dissipated as soon as
the external energy which supported it is withdrawn. The mistake is in
attributing the creative power to the will, or perhaps I should say in
attributing the creative power to ourselves at all. The truth is that man
never creates anything. His function is, not to create, but to combine and
distribute that which is already in being, and what we call our creations
are new combinations of already existing material, whether mental or
corporeal. This is amply demonstrated in the physical sciences. No one
speaks of creating energy, but only of transforming one form of energy into
another; and if we realize this as a universal principle, we shall see that
on the mental plane as well as on the physical we never create energy but
only provide the conditions by which the energy already existing in one
mode can exhibit itself in another: therefore what, relatively to man, we
call his creative power, is that receptive attitude of expectancy which, so
to say, makes a mould into which the plastic and as yet undifferentiated
substance can flow and take the desired form. The will has much the same
place in our mental machinery that the tool-holder has in a power-lathe: it
is not the power, but it keeps the mental faculties in that position
relatively to the power which enables it to do the desired work. If, using
the word in its widest sense, we may say that the imagination is the
creative function, we may call the will the centralizing principle. Its
function is to keep the imagination centred in the right direction. We are
aiming at consciously controlling our mental powers instead of letting them
hurry us hither and thither in a purposeless manner, and we must therefore
understand the relation of these powers to each other for the production of
external results. First the whole train of causation is started by some
emotion which gives rise to a desire; next the judgment determines whether
we shall externalize this desire or not; then the desire having been
approved by the judgment, the will comes forward and directs the
imagination to form the necessary spiritual prototype; and the imagination
thus centred on a particular object creates the spiritual nucleus, which in
its turn acts as a centre round which the forces of attraction begin to
work, and continue to operate until, by the law of growth, the concrete
result becomes perceptible to our external senses.</p>
<p>The business of the will, then, is to retain the various faculties of
our mind in that position where they are really doing the work we wish, and
this position may be generalized into the three following attitudes; either
we wish to act upon something, or be acted on by it, or to maintain a
neutral position; in other words we either intend to project a force, or
receive a force or keep a position of inactivity relatively to some
particular object. Now the judgment determines which of these three
positions we shall take up, the consciously active, the consciously
receptive, or the consciously neutral; and then the function of the will is
simply to maintain the position we have determined upon; and if we maintain
any given mental attitude we may reckon with all certainty on the law of
attraction drawing us to those correspondences which exteriorly symbolize
the attitude in question. This is very different from the semi-animal
screwing-up of the nervous forces which, with some people, stands for
will-power. It implies no strain on the nervous system and is consequently
not followed by any sense of exhaustion. The will-power, when transferred
from the region of the lower mentality to the spiritual plane, becomes
simply a calm and peaceful determination to retain a certain mental
attitude in spite of all temptations to the contrary, knowing that by doing
so the desired result will certainly appear.</p>
<p>The training of the will and its transference from the lower to the
higher plane of our nature are among the first objects of Mental Science.
The man is summed up in his will. Whatever he does by his own will is his
own act; whatever he does without the consent of his will is not his own
act but that of the power by which his will was coerced; but we must
recognize that, on the mental plane, no other individuality can obtain
control over our will unless we first allow it to do so; and it is for this
reason that all legitimate use of Mental Science is towards the
strengthening of the will, whether in ourselves or others, and bringing it
under the control of an enlightened reason. When the will realizes its
power to deal with first cause it is no longer necessary for the operator
to state to himself <i>in extenso</i> all the philosophy of its action
every time he wishes to use it, but, knowing that the trained will is a
tremendous spiritual force acting on the plane of first cause, he simply
expresses his desire with the intention of operating on that plane, and
knows that the desire thus expressed will in due time externalize itself as
concrete fact. He now sees that the point which really demands his earnest
attention is not whether he possesses the power of externalizing any
results he chooses, but of learning to choose wisely what results to
produce. For let us not suppose that even the highest powers will take us
out of the law of cause and effect. We can never set any cause in motion
without calling forth those effects which it already contains in embryo and
which will again become causes in their turn, thus producing a series which
must continue to flow on until it is cut short by bringing into operation a
cause of an opposite character to the one which originated it. Thus we
shall find the field for the exercise of our intelligence continually
expanding with the expansion of our powers; for, granted a good intention,
we shall always wish to contemplate the results of our action as far as our
intelligence will permit. We may not be able to see very far, but there is
one safe general principle to be gained from what has already been said
about causes and conditions, which is that the whole sequence always
partakes of the same character as the initial cause: if that character is
negative, that is, destitute of any desire to externalize kindness,
cheerfulness, strength, beauty or some other sort of good, this negative
quality will make itself felt all down the line; but if the opposite
affirmative character is in the original motive, then it will reproduce its
kind in forms of love, joy, strength and beauty with unerring precision.
Before setting out, therefore, to produce new conditions by the exercise of
our thought-power we should weigh carefully what further results they are
likely to lead to; and here, again, we shall find an ample field for the
training of our will, in learning to acquire that self-control which will
enable us to postpone an inferior present satisfaction to a greater
prospective good.</p>
<p>These considerations naturally lead us to the subject of concentration.
I have just now pointed out that all duly controlled mental action consists
in holding the mind in one of three attitudes; but there is a fourth mental
condition, which is that of letting our mental functions run on without our
will directing them to any definite purpose. It is on this word
<i>purpose</i> that we must fix our whole attention; and instead of
dissipating our energies, we must follow an intelligent method of
concentration. The, word means being gathered up at a centre, and the
centre of anything is that point in which all its forces are equally
balanced. To concentrate therefore means first to bring our minds into a
condition of equilibrium which will enable us to consciously direct the
flow of spirit to a definitely recognized purpose, and then carefully to
guard our thoughts from inducing a flow in the opposite direction. We must
always bear in mind that we are dealing with a wonderful <i>potential</i>
energy which is not yet differentiated into any particular mode, and that
by the action of our mind we can differentiate it into any specific mode of
activity that we will; and by keeping our thought fixed on the fact that
the inflow of this energy <i>is</i> taking place and that by our mental
attitude we <i>are</i> determining its direction, we shall gradually
realize a corresponding externalization. Proper concentration, therefore,
does not consist of strenuous effort which exhausts the nervous system and
defeats its own object by suggesting the consciousness of an adverse force
to be fought against, and thus creating the adverse circumstances we dread;
but in shutting out all thoughts of a kind that would disperse the
spiritual nucleus we are forming and dwelling cheerfully on the knowledge
that, because the law is certain in its action, our desire is certain of
accomplishment. The other great principle to be remembered is that
concentration is for the purpose of determining the <i>quality</i> we are
going to give to the previously undifferentiated energy rather than to
arrange the <i>specific circumstances</i> of its manifestation. <i>That</i>
is the work of the creative energy itself, which will build up its own
forms of expression quite naturally if we allow it, thus saving us a great
deal of needless anxiety. What we really want is expansion in a certain
direction, whether of health, wealth, or what not: and so long as we get
this, what does it matter whether it reaches us through some channel which
we thought we could reckon upon or through some other whose existence we
had not suspected. It is the fact that we are concentrating energy of a
particular kind for a particular purpose that we should fix our minds upon,
and not look upon any specific details as essential to the accomplishment
of our object.</p>
<p>These are the two golden rules regarding concentration; but we must not
suppose that because we have to be on our guard against idle drifting there
is to be no such thing as repose; on the contrary it is during periods of
repose that we accumulate strength for action; but repose does not mean a
state of purposelessness. As pure spirit the subjective mind never rests:
it is only the objective mind in its connection with the physical body that
needs rest; and though there are no doubt times when the greatest possible
rest is to be obtained by stopping the action, of our conscious thought
altogether, the more generally advisable method is by changing the
direction of the thought and, instead of centering it upon something we
intend to <i>do</i>, letting it dwell quietly upon what we <i>are</i>. This
direction of thought might, of course, develop into the deepest
philosophical speculation, but it is not necessary that we should be always
either consciously projecting our forces to produce some external effect or
working out the details of some metaphysical problem; but we may simply
realize ourselves as part of the universal livingness and thus gain a quiet
centralization, which, though maintained by a conscious act of the
volition, is the very essence of rest. From this standpoint we see that all
is Life and all is Good, and that Nature, from her clearly visible surface
to her most arcane depths, is one vast storehouse of life and good entirely
devoted to our individual use. We have the key to all her treasures, and we
can now apply our knowledge of the law of being without entering into all
those details which are only needed for purposes of study, and doing so we
find it results in our having acquired the consciousness of our <i>oneness
with the whole</i>. This is the great secret: and when we have once
fathomed it we can enjoy our possession of the whole, or of any part of it,
because by our recognition we have made it, and can increasingly make it,
our own. Whatever most appeals to us at any particular time or place is
that mode of the universal living spirit with which at that moment we are
most in touch, and realizing this, we shall draw from it streams of vital
energy which will make the very sensation of livingness a joy and will
radiate from us as a sphere of vibration that can deflect all injurious
suggestion on whatever plane. We may not have literary, artistic, or
scientific skill to present to others the results of our communings with
Nature, but the joy of this sympathetic indrawing will nevertheless produce
a corresponding outflow manifesting itself in the happier look and kindlier
mien of him who thus realizes his oneness with every aspect of the whole.
He realizes--and this is the great point in that attitude of mind which is
not directed to any specific external object--that, for himself, he is, and
always must be the centre of all this galaxy of Life, and thus he
contemplates himself as seated at the centre of infinitude, not an
infinitude of blank space, but pulsating with living being, in all of which
he knows that the true essence is nothing but good. This is the very
opposite to a selfish self-centredness; it, is the centre where we find
that we both receive from all and flow out to all. Apart from this
principle of circulation there is no true life, and if we contemplate our
central position only as affording us greater advantages for in-taking, we
have missed the whole point of our studies by missing the real nature of
the Life-principle, which is action and re-action. If we would have life
enter into us, we ourselves must enter into life--enter into the spirit of
it, just as we must enter into the spirit of a book or a game to enjoy it.
There can be no action at a centre only. There must be a perpetual flowing
out towards the circumference, and thence back again to the centre to
maintain a vital activity; otherwise collapse must ensue either from
anaemia or congestion. But if we realize the reciprocal nature of the vital
pulsation, and that the outflowing consists in the habit of mind which
gives itself to the good it sees in others, rather than in any specific
actions, then we shall find that the cultivation of this disposition will
provide innumerable avenues for the universal livingness to flow through
us, whether as giving or receiving, which we had never before suspected:
and this action and re-action will so build up our own vitality that each
day will find us more thoroughly alive than any that had preceded it. This,
then, is the attitude of repose in which we may enjoy all the beauties of
science, literature and art or may peacefully commune with the spirit of
nature without the aid of any third mind to act as its interpreter, which
is still a purposeful attitude although not directed to a specific object:
we have not allowed the will to relax its control, but have merely altered
its direction; so that for action and repose alike we find that our
strength lies in our recognition of the unity of the spirit and of
ourselves as individual concentrations of it.</p>
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