Anselm's Doctrine of Freedom and the Will 0889469148, 0889469761, 9780889469143

Citation preview

ANSELM’S DOCTRINE OF FREEDOM AND THE WILL

G. STANLEY KANE

Texts and Studies in Religion Volum e 10

The Edwin Mellen Press New York and Toronto

Library of Congress C a taloging in Publ i c a t i o n Data

Kane, G. Stanley, Anselm's doctrine of freedom and the will. (Texts and studies in religion ; v. 10) Bibliography: p. 1. Free will and determinism. 2. Anselm, Saint, A b p . of Canterbury, 1033-1109. I. Title. II. Series. BJ1461.K36 123'.5 81-16939 ISBN 0-88946-914-8 AACR2

Texts and Studies in Religion ISBN 0-88946-976-1

Copyright

(c)

1981,

All rights reserved.

The Edwin Mellen Press For information contact:

The Edwin Mellen Press P.O. Box 4 50 Lewiston, New York 14092

Printed in the United States of America

C H A P T E R ONE:

I N T R O D U C T I O N ....................................... 1

C H A P T E R TWO:

WILL:

THE B ASIC F A C U L T Y .......................

13

I.

The Threefold Sense of

" W i l l " ....................

15

II.

The Basic Character of the F a c u l t y ..............

21

III.

Soul and Will: Has A n s e l m a Faculty P s y c h o l o g y ? ........................................

25

IV.

The General Function and Purpose of the W i l l ...........................................

36

A. B. C H A P T E R THREE: I.

THE A F FECTIONS OF THE W I L L ..................

61 62

As A p t i t u d i n e s ............................... As Dispositions to W i l l .....................

62 63

General Funct i o n and P u r p o s e .....................

69

A. B. III.

36 47

The Nature of the A f f e c t i o n s ..................... A. B.

II.

Its Immediate F u n c t i o n ...................... Its Ultimate P u r p o s e ........................

Immediate F u n c t i o n ........................... Ultim a t e P u r p o s e .............................

69 74

The Two A f f e c t i o n s .................................

91

A. B.

Their D i f f e r e n c e s ..... ..... ................ Their R e l a t i o n ...............................

91 99

C H A P T E R FOUR:

V O L I T I O N S ....................................... 109

C H A P T E R FIVE:

F R E E D O M ......................................... 119

I.

Voluntas and A i b i t r i u m ............................ 119

II.

The Search for D e f i n i t i o n ......................... 121

III.

F r e e d o m D e f i n e d .....................................123

IV.

The Permanence of F r e e d o m ......................... 129

V.

The Strength of F r e e d o m ........................... 134

VI.

The Significance of Anselm's Definition of F r e e d o m ..............................152

VII.

F r e edom and the W i l l ............................... 156

CH A P T E R SIX: F R E EDO M

A N D G R A C E ............................... 159

I.

The Problem of Grace and F r e e d o m ................. 160

II.

The Implications for U n d e r s t a n d i n g the Definition of F r e e d o m ..............................17 0

CH A P T E R SEVEN:

THE H I STORICAL SIGNIFICANC E OF ANSELM'S D O C T R I N E .............................. 181

N O T E S ............................................................. 191 B I B L I O G R A P H Y ..................................................... 215

MKJKWniEBCfflJENSg

Some of the material included in this book has a p ­ p e a r e d in earlier versions elsewhere. have u s e d m a t e r i a l from my article,

In chapter one I

"'Fides

Quaerens

In-

t e l 1 e c t u m 1 in Anselm's Thought," w h i c h appeared in S c o t t i s h Journal

material

of

T h e o l o g y ; in chapters one and five I have used

from "Anselm's D e finition of Freedom," w h ich a p ­

p e a r e d in R e l i g i o u s d r a w n on

S t u d i e s ; and in chapter

four I have

"Elements of Ethical Theory in the Thought of Saint

Ansel m , " publi s h e d in S t u d i e s

in M e d i e v a l

Culture.

I am

grate f u l to the editors of these journals for their p e r m i s ­ sion to use this material. Except w h e r e indicated otherwise, lowing translations. sophical Fragments et

I have used the fo l ­

For D e G r a m m a t i c o and Anselm's P h i l o ­

(De P o t e s t a t e

I m p o s s i b i l i t a t e , Necessitate

D. P. Henry's translation.

et I m p o t e n t i a , P o s s i b i l i t a t e et

L i b e r t a t e ) , I have used

For C ur D e u s H omo,

E. R. F a i r w e a t h e r 's translation.

I have used

For all other treatises I

have u s e d the trans l a t i o n s of Jasper Hopkins and Herbert Richardson.

O c c a s i o n a l l y I have slightly altered these

translations. M u c h of the final w r i t i n g of this w o r k was done during the S p r i ng semester of 1980, w hile I was on leave from r e g u ­ lar duties at Miami University.

A c k n o w l e d g m e n t is g r a t e ­

fully m a d e for this leave. I

w i s h to c o nvey special thanks to Bill Wortman,

m a n i t i e s L i b r a r i a n at M iami University's King Library,

for

his g e n e r o u s and p r oficient help in supplying b i b l i o graphic i n f o r m a t i o n and track i n g down h a r d - t o-loca t e sources.

H

CDH

Cur Deus

Homo

DC

De C o n c o r d i a P r a e s c i e n t i a e et P r a e d e s t i n a t i o n i s et G r a t i a e Dei c u m L i b e r o A r b i trio

DCD

De C a s u

DCV

De C o n c e p t u

DLA

De L i b e r t a t e A r b i t r i i

DV

De

NUW

F. S. Schmitt's study and text of

Diaboli Virginali

et

Originali

Peccato

Veritate

Ein neues u n v o l l e n d e t e s W e r k des h i . A n s e l m von C a n t e r b u r y : D e P o t e s t a t e et I m p o t e n t i a , P o s s i b i l i t a t e et I m p o s s i b i l i t a t e , N e c e s s i t a t e et L i b e r t a t e

CHAP&SEK 0N£

A n s e l m of Cante r b u r y has for a long time been a major n a m e in b o t h philo s o p h y and theology.

Yet except among a

r a t h e r small group of specialists he has been known p r imarily for o n l y a small part of his intellectual work.

Most stu­

d e nts of p h i l o s o p h y and theology k n o w of his M o n o l o g i o n , Proslogion Cut

Deus

(and the debate this o c casione d w i t h Gaunilo)

Homo,

and

w h i c h are also the works of his that have been

m o s t f r e qu e n t l y t r a n s l a t e d into the m o der n languages.

And a

c o n s i d e r a b l e literature has grown up analyzing and i n t e r ­ p r e t i n g the teachings of these treatises.

Rel a t i v e l y few

p h i l o s o p h e r s and theologians have been aware of w h a t Ans e l m w r o t e in other treatises,

in w h i c h he deals extens i v e l y w i t h

such m a j o r problems as truth, carnation,

justice,

evil and free will.

the Trinity,

the In­

As a result A n s e l m has g e n ­

e r a l l y come to be i d entified p rimarily w i t h only a few m a j o r poi n t s in his thinking: ence of God,

a doctrine of the nature and e x i s t ­

including e s pecially the ontological argument,

g r o u n d e d on the notion of God as the greatest conceivable being;

a special concept of the relation of faith and reason

in the a ppre h e n s i o n of Christian truth;

and a d i stinctive

d o c t r i n e of the Atonement. This situation has had some unfortu n a t e effects. has,

in the first place,

It

led to a partial and h e nce dist o r t e d

u n d e r s t a n d i n g of Anselm's c o n t ribution to phil o s o p h i c a l and t h e o l o g i cal thinking.

In this respect he stands in sharp 1

2

AttBelm’ a Ur t cf r t t t e rtf J r e s d n m and tlje 3DtXl

contrast to medieval thinkers like Augus t i n e and Thomas Aquinas, who are w i d e l y r e cognized for d e a l i n g w i t h a w i d e range of philosophical, This is regrettable,

theological,

and p r a c t i c a l problems.

not only b e c ause A n s e l m d e als w i t h m a n y

of the same problems that v e x e d these men,

but b e c a u s e his

treatment of them displays c o n s iderable p o w e r and s u b t l e t y and so deserves more serious scholarly a t t e n t i o n than m u c h of it has been given. Secondly,

a full and balan c e d u n d e r s t a n d i n g of even

some of the b e tter known parts of Anselm ' s w o r k r e q u i r e s an a c q u aintance with what is taught in the lesser k n o w n parts. Much,

for example,

has been w r i t t e n about A n s e l m ' s i n t e l l e c t ­

ual m e t h o d and his p r o g r a m of f i d e s

guaerens

i n t e l l e c t u m . Bu t

most of this concentrates on w h a t he says an d does in his better known treatises,

ignoring the fact that w h a t he says

and does in some of his other works is also impo r t a n t and is at points different from what comes t h r o u g h in his b e t t e r known works and s t a t e m e n t s . 1

A n o t h e r ex ample is the t e a c h ­

ing of the Cur D e us H omo, w here A n s e l m e x p r e s s l y states, "There is another reason for thinking that we can h a r d l y at all)

deal fully w i t h this p r o b l e m

[the Atonement]

(if

now.

We should need to k n o w about power and n e c e s s i t y and will and several other things w hich are so c l o s e l y c o n n e c t e d that no one of them can be fully c o nsidered w i t h o u t the o t h e r s . " 2 A n s e l m here gives explicit w a r n i n g that his s o t e r i o l o g y c a n ­ not be fully u n d e r s t o o d without k n o wing his t h i n k i n g about m a t t e r s he deals w i t h elsewhere. however,

Rather few interpreters,

have taken this w a r ning to heart.

The all-t o o -

frequent failure to consider Anselm's th i n k i n g in light of the whole of his work has been so common that it has p r o m p t e d the comment from John McInt y r e that

"no m a j o r th i n k e r has

suffered so m u c h as St. A n s e l m from the h i t —a n d — run t a ctics of historians of theism and s o t e r i o l o g y . " 3 The past few years have shown signs that this s i t u a ­ tion is b eginning to change.

As of the e a r l y 1970s,

all of

3tt trnduct inn

3

A n s e l m ' s treatises

had

been translated into E n g l i s h , 4 with

the t r a n s l a t i o n b eing b ased on a critical edition established and e d i t e d several decades earlier by F. S. S c h m i t t . 5

An e x ­

c e l l e n t g eneral introduction to the entire body of Anselm's t h o u g h t was p u b l i s h e d in 1972 by Jasper H o p k i n s , 6 and a s o m e ­ wh a t m o r e s p e cialized survey of his entire corpus has been p r e s e n t e d b y G. R. Evans in A n s e l m a n d T a l k i n g A b o u t R. W.

God.7

S o uthern gives an admirable account of both the life

and the t h o ught of A n s e l m in S a i n t A n s e l m and h i s B i o g r a p h e r .8 In a d d i t i o n to these general works,

special studies d e voted

to p a r t i c u l a r aspects of Anselm's work have also appeared recently.

M o s t w o r t h y of note are the rigorous i n v e s t i g a ­

tions by D. guage. 9

P. Henry into Anselm's views on logic and l a n ­

A n d since 1969,

a periodical public a t i o n d e voted to

the study and analysis of Anselm's thought, miana,

Analecta

Ansel-

has been a ppearing at various i n t e r v a l s . 10 M u c h remains to be done, however,

before the full scope

of A n s e l m ' s w o r k is g enerally r e cognized among philosophers an d theologians.

There are still m a j o r areas of his thought

that have not recei v e d m u c h investigation and analysis. of t h ese is the subject of the present inquiry, of the w i ll and freedom.

One

his doctrine

There has been no bo o k - l e n g t h study

of this subject p u b l i s h e d at any time in the E n glish language an d o n l y two or three in any m o d e r n language.

Early in the

p r e s e n t c e n t u r y two small monog r a p h s appeared on the subject in G e r m a n . 11

These volumes,

able in N o r t h America,

however,

and they are,

are not w i d e l y a v a i l ­ of course,

wholly inac­

ce s s i b l e to those w i t h o u t a reading knowle d g e of German. In a d d i t i o n to the d i fficulty of gaining access to th ese works, terpretation.

they also suffer from flaws of analysis and i n ­ A c o mmon tendency among A n s e l m scholars g e n ­

e r a l l y has been to interpret h i m m u c h m o r e than is w a r r a n t e d as s t r i c t l y A u g u s t i n i a n in his thinking.

The result has

be e n that the simil a r i t y b e t ween Anselm's thought and A u g u s ­ tine's has b e e n m u c h exaggerated.

One scholar, wr i t i n g

Att0 P l m *0 D a c i r t n E

4

JrEednnt

and

nf

ttys HJi X 1

about Anselm's doctrine of freedom, w e n t so far as to say, "His w hole doctrine is essen t i a l l y a re p e t i t i o n of A u g u s t i n ian t h o u g h t . " 12

Though this is an extreme statement,

many

scholars have endorsed a v i e w very close to the one it s t a t e s . 13

Both Lohmeyer and Baeumker,

mon o g r aphs just mentioned, in different ways.

the authors of the

fall prey to this tendency,

though

Lohmeyer gives a He g e l i a n i n t e r p r e t a t i o n

of both Augustine and A n s e l m and indeed of all m e d i e v a l p h i ­ losophy.

He sees the entire sweep of m e d i e v a l p h i l o s o p h y as

c h a r a c terized by a series of o v e rarchin g a n t i t h e s e s — u n i v e r ­ sal vs.

particular,

abstract vs.

plicity,

subjective vs.

lations,

being vs.

concrete,

objective,

non-being,

u n i t y vs. m u l t i ­

internal vs.

external re­

etc.— that in his v i e w p r o c e e d

from Augustine and that determine the aims,

the problems,

and the methods of all subsequent m e d i e v a l philosophy. selm's work,

according to Lohmeyer,

An­

is a p a r t i c u l a r insta n c e

of this general approach to the problem s of thought.

His

m o n o g r a p h seeks to demonstrate that Ans e l m ' s work, t h o u g h it m a y not appear so on the surface, namely,

has

"a deep i n t e n t i o n , " 11*

to address itself to the r e solu t i o n of these a n t i ­

theses.

In the process he interprets A n s e l m as h a v i n g taken

over from Augustine his

Neoplatonism,

the fu n d a m e n t a l p s y ­

chological orientation of his metaphysics,

and his general

m e t h o d of intellectual inquiry, w i t h o u t m a k i n g any e s s e n t i a l changes. B a e u m k e r 's work is m u c h less specul a t i v e and m o r e than Lohmeyer's,

sober

sticking m u c h more c l o s e l y to w h a t A n s e l m

actua l ly had to say— doing so perhaps to a fault,

for a m a ­

jor portion of the book is either a direct t r a n s l a t i o n or a close paraphrase of Anselm's own words.

Nevertheless,

he

too fails to catch the spirit and the m e t h o d of w h a t A n s e l m is doing,

and again the reason seems to be that he fails to

appreciate the crucial differences betw e e n A n s e l m ' s w o r k and Augustine's.

He chastises Anselm,

for example,

for failure

to provide proof that man has free w i l l , 15 not r e c o g n i z i n g

3n t rrtduc 1 1 tttt

5

that A n s e l m ' s aim and procedure,

unlike Augustine's,

the q u e s t i o n of proof irrelevant.

make

Proof is relevant when

one b e g ins w i t h a speculative definition,

for then one must

face the task of showing that the definition applies to the w o r l d of our actual experience. is d i f f e r e n t from this.

Anselm's approach,

His investigation is grounded in

the r e c o g n i t i o n that the terms

"freedom" and

fact d e s i g n a t e realities in our world, in speaking about

however,

"will" do in

for they are used

h uman beings and h o w they act.

He sets

out a c c o r d i n g l y to explore the m e a n i n g of these terms by e x ­ a m i n i n g h o w they are used and to clarify the features of e x ­ p e r i e n c e w h i c h they pick out.

Freedom,

thus a p a r t of the data of experience, q u i r e proof;

in Anselm's view,is so it does not r e ­

instead it requires elucidation.

His i n v e s t i g a ­

tions and his search for definitions are attempts at such elucidation. B e c a u s e the similarity of Anselm's doctrine to A u g u s ­ tine's is so const a n t l y overdrawn,

it m i g h t be useful at the

out s e t of our study to point out some of the significant d i f ­ ferences b e t w e e n them.

I have elsewhere done this in c o n n e c ­

tion w i t h some issues in Anselm's thought g e n e r a l l y . 16

Here

I shall restrict m y s e l f to his thinking c o n c erning the will an d freedom.

Some of these points are e l a b o r a t e d more fully

w i t h i n the b o d y of this study.

In the first place,

Ansel m ' s ,

v i e w of the relation b e t w e e n the soul and the will m a rks a d e p a r t u r e from Augustine.

As is well known,

A u g u s t i n e m a d e __

e x t e n s i v e use of p s y c h ological analogies for explic a t i n g the d o c t r i n e of the Trinity. ing,

Just as the memory,

the u n d e r s t a n d ­

and the w i l l are not three separate substances but the

same substance,

the soul,

tions or relations,

consi d e r e d in three diff e r e n t f u n c ­

so Father,

Son,

and Holy Spirit are not

t h ree separate b e ings but one God existing in three subsistent relations.

The will,

then,

in this view,

ly iden t ical w i t h the soul itself. soul,

i n sofar as it acts.

is s u b s t a n t i a l ­

It is the soul,

the whole

A n s e l m employs some of A u gustine's

0

At t BPl m' f i

UncfrtttP

of

J r B Pd a m and t l j s 3Ht X1 psychological analogies in the M o n o l o g i o n , so it is c l e a r that at this early point in his c a r e e r he h e l d to the same v i e w that Augustine did c o ncerning the r e l a t i o n of the soul to the will and its other powers. theory of freedom and the will,

But w h e n he offers his

later in his career,

he no

longer holds to the identity of the soul and its powers. The will and the intellect are n o w powers in the soul,

p a rts

of the soul,

not the w hole soul insofar as it is a c t i n g or

t h i n k i n g . 17

At this time he no longer uses p s y c h o l o g i c a l

analogies for explicating the relations of the div i n e p e r ­ sons in the Trinity but employs diffe r e n t m e t h o d s altogether.1 8 Secondly,

A n s e l m offers quite a d i f f e r e n t d e f i n i t i o n

of freedom than Augustine does. ly superficial and verbal, posed,

This d i f f e r e n c e is no t m e r e ­

as m a n y comme n t a t o r s have s u p ­

but represents significant diffe r e n c e s in conception.

Anselm's definition reflects a diffe r e n t v i e w of w h a t the free act consists in, of the relation of grace and freedom, and of the connection b e t ween l i b e r u m a r b i t r i u m and l i b e r t a s . It is, moreover,

set w i thin the context of a m o r a l the o r y

that grounds the end of human life and the dut i e s of m a n more on God and his will and less on the i n h e r e n t n a t u r e of m a n than A u g u s t i n e 's theory d o e s . 19 A third respect in w hich Anselm's w o r k on free w i l l differs significantly from that of Augu s t i n e is his m e t h o d of investigation and analysis.

This has a l r e a d y b e e n m e n ­

tioned briefly in d i scussing L o h m e y e r 's and B a e u m k e r ' s works, but it deserves further comment. subscribe to the dictum, lieve,

that is,

"Credo

Both A u g u s t i n e and A n s e l m ut i n t e l l i g a m ."

Both b e ­

that one m u s t first acc e p t the t r u t h of

Christian doctrine before one can g enui n e l y u n d e r s t a n d it. But the m a n n e r in w hich they put this p r i n c i p l e into p r a c ­ tice in their inquiries into free will d i ffers q u ite s t r i k ­ ingly. Augustine employs a m e t h o d w hich explains C h r i s t i a n doctrine through concepts w hich are gro u n d e d f u n d a m e n t a l l y

3nfrnd uct inn

?

in the personal experience of the soul. method,

A c c o r d i n g to this

the account that best m eets the requirements of

knowledge,

and thus conveys the greatest understanding,

is

the one w h i c h provides the greatest explan a t o r y power for the e x p eriences w h i c h occur in the life of the soul.

The

event in Augus t i n e ' s life w h i c h was dete r m i n a t i v e for all his t h o ught and experience was his conversion. on this experience,

In m ed i t a t i n g

A ugustine became u n s h a k a b l y convinced

that his conve r s i o n and the events surrounding it pointed up not only the sovereign power and the grace of God but also his own utter weakn e s s and inability to do *jood by dint of his own u n a i d e d will. power,

Hence,

the concepts of divine grace,

and election and the correlative concepts of human

sin and weakn e s s became the leading expl a n a t o r y principles for an u n d e r s t a n d i n g of the nature of ma n and of his r e l a ­ tion to God. H uman freedom, b a s i c concepts.

then,

is interprete d in light of these

Augus t i n e ' s method,

therefore,

in dealing

w i t h the human will and its freedom is b o t h speculative and deductive.

It is speculative in formula t i n g and e l aborating

the b a sic p o stulates w h i c h are to serve as the fundamental categories

for expla i n i n g human experience.

And it is d e ­

du c t i v e in applying these c a tegories whe n seeking an u n d e r ­ s t a n d i n g of parti c u l a r aspects of human experience, v o l u n t a r y actions.

such as

This deductive appro a c h to freedom is

one w h i c h takes the basic postulates as the given framework of k n o w l e d g e and then seeks to produce a d e f i nition or c o n ­ c e p t i o n of free will that fits h a r m oniou s l y into the f r a m e ­ work.

If there is any conflict or contr a d i c t i o n found b e ­

t w een o ne's conce p t i o n of freedom and the basic postulates, it is the conce p t i o n of freedom that m u s t be r e vised to e l i m i n a t e the confl i c t and achieve harmony. In contr a s t to this, cal,

inductive,

Anselm's p roc e d u r e is m o r e e m p i r i ­

and dialectical.

A n s e l m accepts just as c o m ­

p l e t e l y as A u g u s t i n e the doctrine of the Chu r c h con c e r n i n g

g

AttBElm'g CnctrtttE

af

J r E E d o m and tljE 3Ht XX the grace,

the power,

and the p r e d e s t i n a t i o n of God,

as he

does also those concerning the sin and the w e a k n e s s of man, but his procedure for developing a ratio n a l u n d e r s t a n d i n g of human experience w h i c h is consonant w i t h t h e m is s i g n i f i c a n t ­ ly different.

Instead of first s p e c u la t i v e l y or d o g m a t i c a l l y

defin i n g these doctrines and then d r a wi n g out t h eir i m p l i c a ­ tions for a theory of human choice and actions, out by canvassing human experience in order, mine the precise character of our experience, light of this,

A n s e l m starts

first,

to d e t e r ­

and then in

to interpret the received d o c t r i n e c o n c e r n i n g

God's attributes and activities in a m a n n e r c o n s o n a n t w i t h the facts gathered from experience.

In this A n s e l m ' s p r o ­

cedure is the opposite of Augustine's. The first step in Anselm's

i nvest i g a t i o n of f r e e d o m is

the search for an adequate definition.

The p r o c e s s e s of

thought by w hich he arrives at the d e fin i t i o n are r e c o r d e d in

dla

, a short work w hich he requests be b o u n d t o g e t h e r b e ­

tween two other works,

DV and

dcd

. 20

In

dv

, A n s e l m is also

engaged in a search for defin i t i o n — the d e f i n i t i o n s of t r uth and justice

(justice being for A n s e l m a s u b s pecies of t r u t h ) .

Since the definition of freedom w h i c h A n s e l m gives employs the notion of justice, pr e l i m i nary to those of

the investigations of dla

methods are used in both.

dv

serve as a

, and the same p r i n c i p l e s and dcd

begins a discussion,

w h i c h is

continued in DC, of certain supposed pro b l e m s in r e c o n c i l i n g human freedom and divine sovereignty. In his search for the definitions of truth, and freedom,

justice,

A n s e l m engages in m u c h p r e l i m i n a r y i n v e s t i g a ­

tion preparatory to the actual e stablis h m e n t of his d e f i n i ­ tions.

The principal steps by w h i c h he m o v e s tow a r d a d e f i ­

nition are as follows.

First,

he canvasses the v a r i o u s

statements that can o r dinarily be made w h i c h use the t e r m to be defined.

Then he examines the whole v a r i e t y of things of

w h ich the term is predi c a t e d in those statements and tries to discern the element w hich all of them have in c o m m o n and

3ttf rnfkuct tan

9

w h i c h they share w i t h nothing else.

The element then c o n ­

stitutes the essential nature of that w h o s e def i n i t i o n is b e i n g sought.

A clear expression of this element in terms

of genus and diffe r e n t i a will then be the definition. The empirical and inductive character of this p r o c e ­ d u r e can be seen from the deliberate and self-conscious a t ­ t e ntion paid to linguistic data,

something that is found

w h e r e v e r A n s e l m is looking for c larifica t i o n or definition of concepts.

In his v i e w such clarifica t i o n can be best a t ­

t a i n e d only b y first considering the w ho l e range of relevant lin g u i s tic data.

B e fore hazarding a definition,

he c o n ­

s c i o u s l y seeks to take into account all the ways he knows of in w h i c h the term to be defined is used in ordinary d i s ­ course.

A t several points in

dv

(which,

like

d l a

, is w r i t ­

ten as a dialo g u e b e t ween teacher and s t u d e n t ) , the teacher stops to ask the student w h e t h e r there are further sorts of things w h i c h m a y be called true w h i c h they have not yet co n ­ s i d e r e d . 21

It is only after all these are examined and no

m o r e can be t h o ught of that A n s e l m proposes his definition. Th e p r o c e d u r e in

dla

differs slightly in actual p r a c t i c e but

in p r i n c i p l e it is no different.

The dif f e r e n c e in practice

is due to the fact that there are not as m a n y things we call free as there are w h i c h w e call true. fore,

A n s e l m is able,

t h ere­

to suggest a defin i t i o n of freedom m u c h earlier in the

d i a l o g u e than he is w i t h truth.

But w i t h freedom there is a

c o m p l i c a t i o n that is not found in dealing w i t h truth. not only are certain beings said to be free,

For

bu( t they are

some t i m es said to be free in certain situations but not in others.

The defin i t i o n of freedom,

then, m u s t not only a p ­

ply to such b e ings w e call free as God and m e n bu t apply to them only in those situations in w h i c h it is approp r i a t e to call them free.

The situations in w h i c h a being m a y be free

p r e s e n t a rather bewil d e r i n g variety.

dla

thus devotes e x ­

t e n s i v e space to an i n v e s tigation of these situations. d o i n g so it seeks to a c complish two things:

In

(1) to vind i c a t e

10

A n a e l m ' a C n c l r t t t e rtf JrEEdrtnt a n d ff}E 3 Dt l l

the p r o posed d e finition b y showing that it does a p p l y to all the situations in w h i c h a p e r s o n is t h o u g h t to be free,

and

(2) by showing how it applies in the var i o u s situations, c o n s iderably to sharpen and clarify the m e a n i n g of the d e f i ­ nition.

Only w h e n this is done does A n s e l m c o n s i d e r the

def i n i t ion established.

The important p o i n t to note h e r e

about each of these cases,

truth and freedom,

is A n s e l m ' s

conscious point of departure in w h a t is said in o r d i n a r y language,

and not just a random sample but as c o m p l e t e a

collection of specimen statements as he is able to gather. The p rocedure is empirical in the fu r t h e r sense that A n s e l m takes the language as he finds it and seeks to e x p l i ­ cate its m e a n i n g w i t h o u t imposing some p r e c o n c e i v e d s t r u c ­ ture on it.

In this it differs strikingly from the s p e c u l a ­

tive approach of Augustine.

A n s e l m takes usages from e v ery

level of experience and initially considers them all on the same footing.

There is no preli m i n a r y at t e m p t to ar r a n g e

the various kinds of truth— the truth of thought, ception,

things,

actions— on a graded scale.

If anything,

A n s e l m gives a certain m e t h o d o l o g i c a l preference, its p e dagogical value,

sense p e r ­

b e c a u s e of

to truths w h i c h A u g u s t i n e pla c e s n e a r

the b o t tom of his graded hierarchy. In order to avoid misunderstanding ,

it should here be

n o ted that w h e n A n s e l m looks to language to supply hi m basic data,

he includes in his c o n s i deration no t o n l y w h a t today

w o u l d be regarded as ordinary language but also statements from the Christian faith b a s e d on the w r i t i n g s of S c r i p t u r e and the dogmatic formulations of the Church. course,

This,

of

fixes a great gulf b e t ween him and m a n y c o n t e m p o r a r y

phil o s o phical analysts in the A n g l o - A m e r i c a n world. helps explain why,

A n d it

in spite of some shared m e t h o d s of p r o ­

cedure, Anselm's conclusions differ so w i d e l y from those reached b y m o s t of our own c o n t e m p o r a r i e s . Once the definition of freedom is secured, A n s e l m is faced w i t h the p r o b l e m of how the fact of h u m a n f r eedom is

3n trnduct inn

11

to be r e c o n c i l e d with God's sovereignty, foreknowledge,

predestination,

reflected in his

and grace.

The pr o b l e m is

r e s o l v e d through a close and careful analysis of the co n ­ cepts of foreknowledge,

predestination,

and g r ace and through

f u rther analysis of the will and free choice.

This analysis

yie l d s an inter p r e t a t i o n of f o r e k n o w l e d g e , predestination, and g r a ce w h i c h takes nothing away from the sovereignty of Go d b u t w h i c h at the same time is quite compatible w i t h hu­ m a n freedom.

Here,

as at other points in the de v e l o p m e n t of

his d o c t r i n e of freedom, Anselm's p roced u r e is governed by ca r e f u l c o nceptual analysis and close attention to li n g u i s ­ tic use,

found b o t h in ordinary language and accepted t h e o ­

logical usage,

and not b y the kind of speculative h y p o t h e ­

sizing that A u g u s t i n e does. Th e w i d e s p r e a d m i s c o n c e p t i o n that Ansel m ' s doctrine of free w i l l m e r e l y echoes A u g u s t i n e m a y help to account for the fact that not m o r e attention has been paid to it by schol a r s of m e d i e v a l thought.

Even so, it is hard to u n d e r ­

stand the general neglect of this part of his thinking. the first place, dla

of

and dcd

dc

In

he devotes a good deal of a t tention to it.

are w h o l l y concerned w i t h it, and m a j o r portions

and D C V as well as his philosophic a l f r a g m e n t s 22 have

to do w i t h various aspects of this doctrine.

Secondly,

it

is the p art of his w o r k in w h i c h he develops m o s t extensively his the o ry of man.

It thus provides an essential link b e ­

t w een his earli e s t w o r k s w i t h their prim a r y interest in God on the one hand,

and the fundamental soteriological concern

of some of the m o s t important of his later w r i t i n g s on the other.

It is a link, moreover, w h i c h is e x p l icitly pointed

out b y A n s e l m himself in CDH.

The quotation g i ven above

d r a w n from this w o r k indicates clearly that in Ansel m ' s mind the t e a c hing of C D H cannot be fully u n der s t o o d w i t h o u t u n d e r ­ stand i n g some of the important aspects of his doctr i n e of the w i l l and freedom.

W h e n one adds to these points the fact,

w h i c h I hope w i l l be d e m o n s t r a t e d in this study,

that Anselm's

12

An a e l n t ' s D o c t r i n e o f J r p p d n m and tljp Hl i l l

d o c t r i ne contains a great richness,

power,

and originality,

one can only hope that it w i l l come to be m o r e w i d e l y k n own and appreciated. This study begins by looking at A n s e l m ' s theory of the will.

He teaches that the term "will"

quite different ways, willing,

one to indicate the b a s i c fa c u l t y of

a second to indicate w h a t he calls the a f f e c t i o n s

of the will, tions.

is used in three

and a third to indicate actual choices or v o l i ­

The next three chapters,

chapters two t h r o u g h four,

deal r espectively w i t h Ansel m ' s thinking on these t h ree su b ­ jects. freedom.

Chapters five and six turn to an e x a m i n a t i o n of Chapter five investigates the d e f i n i t i o n of f r e e ­

do m A n s e l m gives and some of the proble m s w h i c h arise in trying to make sense of it.

The sixth c h apter takes up the

quest i on of the relation of grace and freedom.

Th e m a t e r i a l

of this chapter is important not only for the q u e s t i o n of divine sovereignty and human freedom bu t also for the f u rther light it throws on the v e r y nature of h u m a n freedom.

Th e

b o o k closes w i t h a short chapter b r i e f l y d i s c u s s i n g the h i s ­ torical significance of Ansel m ' s under s t a n d i n g of free will.

CHAJI&3ER SOT®

JO££:

SHE B AS3C T A O £ & y

T h e c u r rent literature on A n s e l m shows a tendency to reg a r d his thought on the nature of the w i l l as secondary to his co n c ern w i t h free choice.

Franz Baeumker,

for example,

opens his study of A n s e l m ' s doctrine of free w i l l w i t h the o b s e r v a t i o n that A n s e l m does not provide us w i t h a w e l l - d e ­ v e l o p e d theory of the nature of the will.

This is because,

as B a e u m k e r tells us, Anselm's concern w i t h the w i l l focuses u p o n a single point,

namely its freedom of choice.

Baeumker

concedes that w h a t A n s e l m has to say about the nature of the w i l l is considerable,

b u t he claims that all of it is a n c i l ­

lary to the expli c a t i o n of free c h o i c e . 1 It is c ertainly true that A n s e l m appears to be more i n t e r e s t e d in the nature and function of freedom than he is in the n a ture of the will.

Free choice is a b a sic p r o b l e m

in two m a j o r treatises

and DC)

c u s s e d in two others

(d l a

(d c d

and

dcv

).

and is e x tensively d i s ­ Furthermore,

m u c h of

w h a t A n s e l m teaches about the will is found in the writings on free choice and occurs therefore w i thi n the context of a s y s t e m a t ic t reatment of freedom. Nevertheless,

there are some very i m portant factors

w h i c h w e i g h a g a inst the v i e w that Anselm' s only interest in the w i l l

is a s u b ordinate one,

casts light upon free choice.

important only insofar as it In the first place,

there

are i m p o rtant passages w h e r e the w i l l is not disc u s s e d w i t h ­ in the c onfines of a larger examination of free choice but w h e r e it is c o n s i d e r e d either for its own sake or be c a u s e it 13

X4

At t 0; el nt * 0 U n r i r t n E n f J r E P d n n t a n d tlfs d t X1

is d i r ectly relevant to some o ther impo r t a n t matter.

Th e

m o s t striking of these is the short and co m p e n d i o u s L i b e r de V o l u n t a t e .2

But there are also others.

stance, has a section entitled, then,

of course,

ginning of

cdh

" V e lle,

Th e

n u w

, for i n ­

And

Voluntas."*

there is the w e l l - k n o w n p a s s a g e at the b e ­

, already quoted in the i n t r o d u c t o r y chapter,

w h e r e i n A n s e l m states that,

in order to deal fully w i t h the

questions w h i c h arise concerning the G o d - m a n and his w o r k of redemption,

"we should need to know about p o w e r

and n e c e s ­

sity and w i l l . . . . " 1> This passage indicates that the w i l l has importance for matters other than simply free choice. Moreover,

certain of Anselm's b a s i c p h i l o s o p h i c a l p r i n ­

ciples require one to u n derstand his do c t r i ne of the w i l l bef o r e one can understand the full impact of his d o c t r i n e of freedom.

In Anselm's view,

one cannot u n d e r s t a n d the n a t u r e

of a thing unless one understands its purpose, thing is is inseparable from w h a t it is for.

for w h a t a Th e s t ructure

and the purpose of a thing are p e r f e c t l y co-ordinated.

What­

ever structure or properties a thing is en d o w e d w i t h fit it to achieve its essential purpose.

A definition,

then,

that

expresses the essential nature of a thing w i l l also state its essential purpose.

A n s e l m also teaches that w h e n s o m e ­

thing conforms to its essential purpose, right.

In his metaphysics,

then,

it is true or u p ­

the concept of e s s e n c e is

inextricably bound up w i t h the concepts of purpose, and r e c t i t u d e . 5

The will and freedom are p a r t i c u l a r

amples of these general principles. selm to be the p ower to keep justice,

truth, ex­

F r e e d o m is said by A n ­ and justice is the

truth or rectitude of the w i l l prese r v e d for its own s a k e . 6 N o t e w o rthy here is the fact that b o t h f r eedom and justice are a s sociated w i t h the will. will,

F r e e d o m is a p o w e r of the

and justice is the rectitude of the will.

in Anselm's doctrine, erns everything,

Th e will,

is the m o v i n g p ow e r in m a n w h i c h g o v ­

including thinking,

that he h i m s e l f does

(as o p posed to those things w h i c h happe n to hi m that are not

su b j e c t to his c o n t r o l ) . 7 thought, will.

action,

Thus the w h o l e area of human

and conduct fall under the domain of the

A n s e l m ' s i nvestigation of freedom,

then,

is not one

that he under t a k e s for its own sake and to w h i c h he su b o r d i ­ n a tes other m a j o r interests.

Rather he investigates freedom

as part of a w i d e r investigation of the human w i l l and m o r e g e n e r a l l y still of the goals and purposes of human life. A q uick glance at Anselm's w r i t i n g w i l l m a k e it appear that he devotes m u c h attention to freedom and rather little to the will.

This,

however,

is misleading.

Th e careful

rea d e r w i l l find a g r e a t deal in Anselm's w o r k concerning the will,

some of it quite subtle and suggestive.

Indeed,

the full range and depth of his thought concerning the will h a v e ye t to b e appreciated.

In the present study,

this

ch a p t e r and the two following ones will explore his t e a c h ­ ings on the will.

I.

THE THREE F O L D SENSE OF "WILL"

A n s e l m ' s analysis of the w i l l takes its p o int of d e ­ p a r t u r e from the m a n n e r in w h i c h w e custom a r i l y speak about the will.

On the basis of a consideration of our common talk

about the will,

A n s e l m distinguishes several senses in w h i c h

w e use the w o r d "will" and picks out various aspects of the f a culty w h i c h w e know and call by this name.

He also shows

h o w the several aspects of the will thus d i s t i n g u i s h e d fit into and co-op e r a t e in the p u r pose for w h i c h God created man. In his survey of common usage, A n s e l m d i s c overed three d i s t i n c t senses of "will"

("voluntas").

Una b l e to d i scern

any e s s ential c h a r a c teristic common to all three,

he c o n ­

c l u d e d that "will seems to be used equivo c a l l y in three ways."8

T h e three senses in w h i c h the w o r d is used are,

A n s e l m ' s terminology,

the i n strument of w i l l i n g

v o l e n d i ) , the a f f e c t i o n of the instrument m e n t i ) , and the use of the instrument

in

(i n s t r u m e n t u m

(a f f e c t i o i n s t r u \

(usus

instrumenti).

9

Ifi

AttBPlm' B U n c i r t n E rrf J r EEdnm and tljE IDt XX

Today we m i g h t feel more at home if these three senses were spoken of capacity,

respectively

or power,

clination,

to will,

as

of willing, and

(3)

power to w i l l — the volition.

(1) (2)

the act,

the

faculty,

the disposition, or exercise,

or or in­

of the

It w i l l be our task in this

chapter to indicate the general outlines of the d i s t i n c t i o n w h ich A n s e l m draws b e t w e e n the three senses of "will"

and to

take a closer look at w h a t he has to say a b o u t the b a s i c faculty of the will. We are referring to the b asic faculty of the w i l l w h e n w e talk about directing our w ills

(or setting ourselves)

wi l l i n g various ordinary functions, e t c . 10

such as walking,

to

sitting,

A n s e l m conceives the nature of the w i l l - a s - i n s t r u m e n t

on analogy with other instruments w h i c h m a n possesses.

His

favorite analogy is with sight, b u t he also f r e q u e n t l y draws an analogy between will and reason. In our bodies we have five separate senses and also various members, each of w h i c h we use like instruments. Our m e m b e r s and our senses are all adapted to their own p a r t i c u ­ lar uses. For example, our hands are suited for grasping, our feet for walking, our t o ngues for speaking, and our sight for seeing. In the same m a n n e r there are certain powers in the soul, w h i c h the soul uses as instru m e n t s for appropriate functions. T h e r e is, for instance, reason in the soul, w h i c h the soul uses as an instrument for reasoning; there is also will, w h i c h it uses for wi lling.... The instrument of w i l ling is that p o wer of the soul w h i c h w e use for w i l l i n g — just as reason is the instrument of reasoning w h i c h w e use when w e reason, and sight is the ins t r u me n t of seeing w h i c h we use w h e n we s e e . 11 A n s e l m believes that every instrument, will,

no t just the

can be thought of in three diffe r e n t ways.

strument has its nature,

its aptitudes,

"Every in­

and its u s e s . " 12

The aptitudes of a thing are those functions for w h i c h its p a r t icular nature or structure m a k e s it e s p e c i a l l y suited. To cite examples given in the p a s sage just quoted,

h u man

hands have an aptitude for grasping while feet have an a p t i ­ tude for walking.

The aptitudes of the will are called

" af feet {.ones" by Anselm.

He uses this name because

"the i n ­

strum e n t of w i l l i n g is obvio u s l y affected by its aptitudes. Fo r this reason, thing,

when the human soul strongly wills s o m e ­

it is said to be affected to will that thing,

will that thing affec t i o n a l l y

or to

(a f f e ct u o s e ) . " 13

A n s e l m tells us that a person is thinking of the willa s - a f f e c t i o n w h e n he says such things as the following:

"A

m a n always has the will for his own well-being," or "A saint always p ossesses the will to live an upright life, he is sleeping or is not thinking about it."

even when

For in each of

these cases what is called "will" is really an affection for w e l l - b e i n g or for the saintly l i f e . 11*

This usage of "will"

also shows up in cases w here we compare two people and say that one has a g r e ater will for something than the other. W h e n we say that one person has more of the will to live justly than another person, the only will we are referring to is the a f f e c ­ tion of that instrument by w hic h he wills to live justly. For the instrument is not greater in one person and less in a n o t h e r . 15 The w i l l - a s - a f f e c t i o n , then,

is de f i n e d by A n s e l m as

"that by w hich the instrument is so dispo s e d

(a f f i c i t u i ) to

will s o mething even when the person is not thinking of it, that w h en this thing does come to m i n d he wills this thing eit h e r i m m ediately or for its own proper t i m e . " 16

For e x ­

ample,

W h ether

a p e rson has an affection for good health.

to seek good h e alth is not a question on w h i c h one has to d e l i b e r a t e and make up one's mind.

A person always wants to

have good h e alth w h e n e v e r he thinks of it,

and he wants it

right away,

then and there.

for sleep.

But here the situation is different in that we

People also have an affection

do no t n e c e s s a r i l y want sleep right away every time we think of it.

But we do d e sire— and we always d e s i r e — to get our

sleep at its a p p ropriate time and place.

We never want

15

Anjaelitt'a D n c t r i n p ttf J r B P d n m and

com p l e t ely to forego all sleep.

fljp Util

Nor do w e ever w a n t to be

i l l . 17 If the will is thought of as an ins t r u m e n t like the hands or feet,

then a m a n always has will.

But t h ere is a

further sense in w hich a man m a y be said always to have will, namely that he always has a will for some general sorts of things.

These general sorts of things are the ob j e c t s of

his affections.

In other words,

not onl y does m a n always

possess the basic faculty of willing,

but that f a culty is

always directed toward some o b ject or end. The third and final sense of cates is that of use.

"will" w h i c h A n s e l m e x p l i ­

This refers to the actual and s p e c i ­

fic acts or volitions w h i c h the instrument c o n s c i o u s l y and delib e r ately performs.

This sense is found in such s t a t e ­

ments as "I now have the will for r e a d i n g , " or the will for writing."

These statements,

"I n o w have

A n s e l m tells us,

are equivalent respectively to "I n o w wa n t to r e a d , " and no w w a n t to w r i t e . " 18

"I

One of the m o s t i m portant c h a r a c t e r ­

istics of the will-as-use w hich disti n g u i s h e s it f r o m the affections is that a volit i o n in every insta n c e involves conscious thought of what is beina willed.

"The use of the

instrument is something w h i c h we have only w h e n we re f l e c t u p o n the things we are w i l l i n g . " 19

The will-as-use,

then,

is never found in a person who is asleep or unconscious. A n s e l m apparently thinks that the d i s t i n c t i o n b e t w e e n w i l l - a s-instrument and the will- a s - u s e is a fairly o b v i o u s one,

for beyond the points we have a l r ea d y n o t e d he says

little more to make the distinction clear. however,

One m i g h t object,

that the statements from ordin a r y langu a g e w h i c h he

draws upon as exemplifying these two senses are v e r y similar, so m u c h so that it is not clear h o w they dif f e r in e s s e n t i a l meaning.

How— the objector m ight ask— is "will" b e i n g used

di f f e r e ntly w h e n we talk about wa l k i n g or sitting and writing

(1) d ire c t i n g the will to

(2) having the will for r e a d i n g or

(the first having been used by A n s e l m to ill u s t r a t e

U til: Sasic

tlje Jaculfg

the sense of of

jg

"will" as instrument,

"will" as u s e ) ?

m e a n i n g of

and the second the sense

Surely there is no di f f erence in the

"will" w h e n one is

said to be w i l l i n g to

read

w r i t e an d w h e n one is said to

be w i l ling to w a l k or

sit.

An d

"having the will for..." and

or

"directing the will to..."

seem' m e r e l y alter n a t i v e ways of talking about apply i n g the w i l l to its task of willing. tion,

however,

The p r o blem w i t h this o b j e c ­

is that it misses an extremely important

p o int in A n s e l m ' s analysis. will to something

W h e n he speaks of d i recting

(c o n v e r t e r e

vo lu nt at em ad...),

he

the

does not

speak of direc t i n g the will immediately to some kind of a c ­ tion such as w a l k i n g or sitting

(i.e. he does not speak of

v o l u n t a t e m ad a m b u l a n d u m or ad s e d e n d u m ) . Rather

convertere

he speaks of directing the will to w i l l i n g some kind of a c ­ tion.

It is d i r e c t e d to w i l l i n g to walk and w i l l i n g to sit

(c o n v e r t e r e sedere).

v o l u n t a t e m ad

a m b u l a r e , or ad v o l e n d u m

volendum

But when he speaks of having the will to something

(h a b e r e v o l u n t a t e m . . . ) ,

the object of this will is not the

act of w i l l i n g but is some specific act of behav i o r such as r e a d i n g or w r i t i n g scribendi).

(h a b e r e

voluntatem

le g e n d i , voluntatem

As A n s e l m explicitly tells us, hav i n g the will

to do something is the same as w i l ling to do something (h a b e o tion,

voluntatem

then,

legendi

— volo

l e g e n d i ) . 20

The d i s t i n c ­

that is being drawn here is b e tween

w h i c h is d i r e c t e d — the w i l l — and

(1) that

(2) that to w h i c h it is

d i r e c t e d — the act or volition. He believes,

therefore,

that the di s t i n c t i o n between

i n s t r u m e n t and use is fairly clear,

but he devotes c o n s i d e r ­

able effort to showing that the affection is a distinct sense of "will."

Even after he has d e f ined the basic differ e n c e s b e ­

t w e e n the three senses and p o i nted out examples of t h eir use, he ad d u c es added evidence for d i stinguish i n g the affections from the instrument and the use. stance,

He points out,

that while two people are both sleeping,

for in­ it is p o s ­

sible to a f f i r m that one has the will to live justly w h ile

20

An0 p l m * s S n r l r t n e a f J r E B d a m attrk fl j E f f i t l l

the other does not.

He argues that w h a t is here b e i n g a f ­

firmed of one is the same as that w h i c h is b e i n g d e n i e d of the other.

But this cannot be the instrument,

has the instrument of w i l ling at all times, asleep.

And it cannot be the will-as-use,

for e v e r y o n e

w h e t h e r a w ake or for one n e ver

performs specific acts of w i l l i n g w hile he is asleep.

Thus

it m u s t be something w h i c h is d ifferent from b o t h the i n s t r u ­ m e n t and its u s e . 21 A n selm notes a further important d i f f e r e n c e a m ong the instrument,

the affections and the use of the will.

strument of willing is a single and u n i f i e d power,

The i n ­ whereas

the w i l l - as-affec tion has a double aspe c t and the w i l l - a s use is m a n i f o l d in n a t u r e . 22

In other words, in the h u m a n b e ­

ing there is only one instrument, tions and m a n y volitions.

but there are two a f f e c ­

This d i ffere n c e is tied to A n ­

selm's basic phil osophical perspective w h i c h sees the n a t u r e of a thing in terms of its basic function or purpose.

To

say that the instrument is a single and u n i f i e d p o w e r is to indicate that it has only one basic function or purpose, namely willing.

To say that there are two aff e c t i o n s is to

say that there are two general kinds of o b jects or acts w h ich the instrument in its w i l ling m a y will, tion of the affections t h e m . 23

and that the func­

is to dispose the i n s t r u m e n t to w i l l

Finally, when A n s e l m says that the use is m a nifold,

he isindicating that the instrument in

its actual,

concrete

acts of w i l ling m a y be engaged in w i l l i n g an y of a great v a riety of specific acts. We have noticed that A n s e l m thinks of the three senses of ' ’ill" as equivocal. moe

What he m e a n t by

"equivocal" was al-

certainly determined by Aristotle' s d e f i n i t i o n of the

term in his C a t e g o r i e s : When things have only a name in com m o n and the defi nition of being w h i c h corres p o n d s to the name is different, they are cal l e d equivocal. Thus, for example, both a ma n and a picture are animals. These have

mill: JJaBic

tljl? Jaculig

21

only a name in common and the def i n i t i o n of b eing w h i c h corresponds to the name is d i f ­ ferent; for if one is to say what b e ing an animal is for each of them, one will give two distinct d e f i n i t i o n s .24 In light of this, we m i g h t say that for A n s e l m the i n ­ st r u m e n t of w i l l i n g and the affections and the use of the ins t r u m e n t have the name tions are different. ly.

"will"

in common but their d e f i n i ­

Thus the term "will" is used e q u i v o c a l ­

Bu t w e m u s t n o tice that if this is all that is m e a n t by

"equivocal,"

it does not rule out the pos s i b i l i t y that the

things n a m e d equiv o c a l l y by the term "will" have some i m por­ tant features in c o m m o n . 25 "will,"

And this is indeed the case with

for each of the three aspects of the will w h i c h A n ­

selm d i s t i n g u i s h e s has this m u c h in common w i t h the others: each is r e l ated to the process of willing,

and the three a s ­

pects are all n e c e s s a r y conditions for the actual occurrence of specific acts of willing.

II.

THE BASIC CHARA C T E R OF THE FACULTY

S e veral points in A n s e l m ' s characte r i z a t i o n of the will as a p o w er of the soul w h i c h the soul uses as an instrument for w i l l i n g n e e d clarification.

First,

there is a question

as to w h a t p r e c i s e l y he m eans by the term "power" and what e x a c t l y is included in the scope of this power;

and secondly,

th ere is the k n otty p r o b l e m of the relation of this power to the soul to w hich it belongs. W e w i l l deal first w i t h the questio n of the m e a n i n g of "power."

A n s e l m uses the terms vis and p o t e s t a s v o l e n d i

speak i n g of the instrument of willing. terminology,

in

In this vari a t i o n of

there is no disce r n i b l e doctrinal difference,

so

it is safe to conclude that vis and p o t e s t a s are used syn­ onymously.

However,

the use of the latter term is p a r t i c u ­

larly s i gni f i c a n t in v i e w of the fact that A n s e l m goes to some tr ouble in

nuw

and L i b e r de V o l u n t a t e to define c l early what

he m e a n s by p ot e s t a s . .

A n s e l m ' s jQnctrtne o f J r e e d a m a n d fljv ID1 1 X

22

P o t e s t a s , he tells us,

is an " a p t i t u d o

I m mediately after giving this definition, that

"f a c e r e "

then,

he m a k e s the p o i n t

is a specimen verb w h i c h can be u s e d to stand

for any other verb whatsoever. ty,

ad f a c i e n d u m . " 2*

A n y specific p o w e r or a b i l i ­

is the aptitude for doing,

or performing,

that

par t i c ular kind of action w h i c h d i f f e r e n t i a t e s the a b i l i t y in q u e s t i o n . 27

For instance,

the a b i l i t y to run is the

aptitude for actually running. will

(p o t e s t a s

vo l e n d i )

Accordingly,

the a b i l i t y to

is the aptitud e for w i l l i n g

(a p t i t u d o

ad v o l e n d u m ).

This result should be noted carefully.

The p o w e r of

w i l l i n g w hich constitutes the w i l l - a s - i n s t r u m e n t is an a p t i ­ tude for willing and not for doing.

There is, of course,

one sense in w hich it is an aptitude for d o i n g — in th e sense, namely,

that w i l l i n g is a species of doing.

B u t w h e n it is

said that the power of w i l ling is the a p t i t u d e for willing, then willing as a species of doing is b e ing d i f f e r e n t i a t e d from all the other species of doing. wi l l i n g and d oing are distinct.

In this sense,

then

The reason this is i m p o r ­

tant is that A n s e l m locates b o t h justice and f r e e d o m in a b e ing's power to will,

not in its power to do.

This distinction between w i l l i n g and d o i n g is one w h i c h in recent years has been subjected to v i g o r o u s c r i t i ­ c i s m . 28

In v i e w of such criticism,

one m i g h t w o n d e r w h a t

sort of considerations can be brought in su p p o r t of such a distinction.

In Anselm's eyes the m a i n t a i n i n g of this d i s ­

tinction is not a particularly c o n t r ov e r s i a l matter.

He

writes as if he expects everyone to acc e p t the p o i n t as selfe v idently clear. the point as such.

Accordingly,

he does no t tr o u b l e to argue

Nevertheless,

remarks are s c a t t e r e d in

his writings w h i c h suggest the reasons he had for a c c e p t i n g the distinction.

All of these occur in conte x t s w h e r e he is

d i s c ussing m ajor questions of m oral p h i l o s o p h y — where, instance, duty,

for

he is inquiring into the natu r e of ju s t i c e or of

or w here he is seeking to a scert a i n the c o n d i t i o n s

w h i c h j u stify praise or blame. In one such passage he suggests that it m a y not be p o s ­ sible in every circumstance for a man's a c t i o n s to be c o n ­ formed to the will of God, but he insists that his will o u g h t always to c o n f o r m to the will of G o d . 29

He is no

doubt t h inking of situations in w h i c h circumstances beyond a m a n 's control prevent h i m from doing the good w o r k w h i c h he w a n t s

(wills)

to do and w h i c h he would do if the c i r c u m ­

stances w e r e d i f f e r e n t . 30

The principle und e r l y i n g his

t h o u g h t is that man is responsible only for what is in his ow n control.

In the sort of situation me n t i o n e d his actions

are not subject to his control.

A man,

therefore, m a y be

m o r a l l y good even w h e n his outward actions are not right a c ­ tions.

This requires that a distinction be m a d e b e tween

o n e's a c tions and one's willing. Not only is it possible,

in Anselm's view,

for a man

to be up right w h e n his actions are not, but conversely,

it

is p o s s i b l e for his actions to be all that is required of them in any given c i r c umstance w h i l e the man himself is not d e s e r v i n g of any praise. k i n d of case. who

He gives several examples of this

He asks us to consider,

for instance,

someone

"willed to lock a door without knowin g that there was a

m a n o u t s ide who w a n t e d to enter the house in order to kill someone i n s i d e . " 31 right.

In this situation the m a n's actions were

N e v e r t h e l e s s the man cannot be credited w i t h f u lfill­

ing his duty,

b e c a u s e he did not realize that he wa s m o r a l l y

o b l i g a t e d to do w h a t he did, and hence he did not will w h a t he did as the act that was m o r a l l y requir e d in the c i r c u m ­ stances.

The fact that his action confor m e d to duty was

sheer accident.

Examples like this show that m a k i n g moral

a p p r a i s a l s requires a c onsideration of factors beyond what the agent actua l l y does. r e l a t e d to his willing.

A n d these factors, we find,

are

Once again w e find it n e c e s s a r y to

m a k e a d i s t i n c t i o n b e t w e e n a m a n ' s actions and his willing. In the foregoing example,

the n eces s a r y conditions for

24

AnBi el m' s i J n n f r t n t o f J r PEdnm and tlje J Ut l l

m e r i t i n g praise w hich were lacking to the a g ent w e r e a k n o w l ­ edge of some of the critical circumstan c e s in the situ a t i o n in w h i ch he was acting and thus also a k n o w l e d g e of w h a t specific action was required in the circumstances. these factors,

Be s i d e s

A n s e l m points out other con d i t i o n s w h i c h m u s t

also be fulfilled if the agent is right l y to be d e e m e d praiseworthy.

The relevance of these c o n d i t i o n s also s u p ­

ports the view that w i l l i n g and acting are d i s t i n c t o p e r a ­ tions,

for these conditions pertain dir e c t l y to a m a n ' s w i l l ­

ing rather than to his acting.

One such c o n d i t i o n is a c q u i ­

escence in one's duty.

A man m ight mee t all the c o n d i t i o n s

m e n t i o ned so far,

he m i g h t k n o w w h a t his d u t y is in a

i.e.,

given set of circumstances and he m ight w i l l to do his duty, but still not be p r a i seworthy because he r e sents p e r f o r m his d u t y . 32

h a v i n g to

Or a man might have a w r o n g motive.

He

m i ght do his duty to receive the applause of m e n r a t h e r than for its own s a k e . 33 Considerations such as these lead A n s e l m in cuss not only justice, truth of a c t i o n s . 34

the truth of the will,

As we have just seen,

dv

to d i s ­

b u t also the

the q u a l i f i c a t i o n s

for rightness in actions differ from those for r i g h t n e s s in willing.

We also find,

however,

that A n s e l m speaks no t o n l y

of the truth of actions but also of the justice of a c t i o n s . 35 This m ight lead to confusion unless we r e alize that in this instance A n s e l m is not using the terms as e q u i v a l e n t s .

"truth" and

"justice"

These terms are synonymous w h e n they are

pre d i c ated of the will but they are not synonymous w h e n pre d i c ated of actions.

For justice is the t r u t h of the w i l l

and is properly p r edicated only of the will.

In o r d i n a r y

discourse it is sometimes predi c a t e d of actions,

but w h e n it

is, this usage is not strictly and tech n i c a l l y correct. a p plied to actions,

When

"justice" has an e x t e n d e d or ana l o g i c a l

sense that indicates that the action is one w h i c h follows from a just w i l l . 36 actions,

When,

however,

t ru t h is p r e d i c a t e d of

this indicates that the action confo r m s to the

o b j e c t i v e standards of right action willing).

(as o p posed to right

Thus every just action is a true action,

e v e r y true action is a just action.

but not

Justice and truth are

the same w h e n thought of in connection w i t h the will;

they

are not the same w h e n thought of in connection w i t h actions. There are important moral reasons, di s t i n c t i o n b e t w e e n w i l l i n g and acting.

then,

for m a k i n g a

Because the moral

life takes place m o s t fundamentally in the will,

and because

o n e 1s ac t ions are not always an accurate reflection of the state of one's will, mo ral

Anselm's focus in his discussion of the

life of man is on the will.

III.

SOUL A N D WILL:

HAS A N S E L M A FACULTY PSYCHOLOGY?

A n s e l m shared w i t h m a n y other mediev a l thinkers the v i e w that the will is a power of the soul.

W e n o w need to

ex plore the question of how he conceived the relation b e ­ tw een the soul and the will. b a t e d in the M i ddle Ages. w e r e held.

One,

This question was w i d e l y d e ­

Two m ajor positions on the issue

g enerally d e signated a medieval v e rsion of

fa c u l t y psychology,

taught that there is a real

just a m e ntal or formal)

(and not

distinction between the soul and

its powers and among the powers themselves.

The theory also

holds that each power of the soul is situated in, supposes the existence of,

and p r e ­

an organ or faculty w h i c h has

some internal structure that makes it fit for the exercise of that power.

The other theory,

u n i t a r y soul theory, its powers.

which I shall call the

asserts the identity of the soul and

It acknowledges that for purposes of i n t e l l e c ­

tual analysis mental distinctions can be made between the p o w e r s of the soul,

but it holds that these powers are all

at t r i b u t e s of the soul c o nsidered as a single,

unitary en­

ti t y and that in function they c ooperate inseparably.

They

c a n n o t be t r aced bac k to independent organs or separate pa rts w i t h i n the soul.

The m o s t p rominent r e p r esentative of

2B

jkniselm * b

Uncfrttte

J r p p d a m and this latter theory is Saint Augustine,

rt f

tljE HTt XX

whose trinitarian in­

terpretation of the soul precludes a d o c t r i n e of separate faculties,

and the most prominent r e p r e s e n t a t i v e of the f o r ­

m e r is St. Thomas Aquinas. Anselm's stance on this issue,

like his t h o u g h t in

general,

has been w i d e l y interpreted as f u n d a m e n t a l l y A u g u s -

tinian.

I will cite just two examples of this.

Rob e r t

Pouchet has w r i tten that A n s e l m follows A u g u s t i n e in t e a c h ­ ing that the soul is a trinitarian s t r u c t u r e . 37

A n d Charles

Filliatre holds that in Anselm's thoug h t the soul and its powers are conceived on the model of the divine psychology, in w h i c h there is no real d i s tinction of faculties or p o w e r s from each other or from the very b eing of G o d . 38 W h e ther or not this i n terpretati o n is u l t i m a t e l y found to be correct,

the case that these com m e n t a t o r s m a k e is,

my estimation,

fundamentally flawed.

Fo r they b a s e t h eir

entire case on w h a t A n s e l m writes in M o n o l o g i o n

and P r o s -

l o g i o n and do not make reference to his later writings.

is a serious o versight because,

in

This

as I have arg u e d e l s e w h e r e , 39

a shift in perspective occurs in Ansel m ' s thought b e t w e e n the time he completed the w r i t i n g of his Reply to Gaunilo wr i t i ng of his later works.

an d the

One indic a t i o n of this c h a n g e is

that in this latter period he no longer talks of the soul in trinitarian terms and he no longer exp l i c a t e s the d o c t r i n e of the Trinity by means of p sychological analogies. follow from this,

of course,

It does not

that he also a b a n d o n s the u n i ­

tary soul theory that he m a i n t a i n e d earlier.

But it m e a n s

that the evidence for attributing to h i m the u n i t a r y soul theory w h i c h was clearly present in the e a r l y p e r i o d is not to be found in the later works.

So if one is to a s c r i b e the

theory to A n s e l m in his later thought, from his later works,

ne w evidence,

will have to be found.

drawn

It is in his

investigations into the nature and f r e e d o m of the w i l l that the clearest clues to Anselm's thinkin g on this issue are to be found.

2H11:

tljE

Baatc

Jacuifg

27

A n s el m ' s desig n a t i o n of the will as an instrument is si g n i f i c a nt in relation to this issue. t e r m of o ther powers which, s t r u m e n t s . " 40

He also uses the

as he puts it, we

"use like in­

The closest parallel to the will is reason,

w h i c h is also a p ower and an instrument of the s o u l . 41 case of reason, much,

however,

The

does not advance our investigation

for he does not tell us very m u c h that is specific

a b out the relation of reason to the soul.

But he identifies

v a r i o u s m e m b e r s of the b o d y also as i n s t r u m e n t s , 42 and he applies the t e r m to tools and implements like pens and axes.4 3 The m o s t striking feature of all of t h e s e items is that each of t h e m has its own d i s tinctive structure. for example,

Each sense organ,

has its own physical structure that is d i f f e r ­

ent from the structure of each other sense organ,

and though

each sense o rgan is a part of the body none is identical w i t h the body.

The parallel,

then,

that A n s e l m draws b e ­

tween reason and the will as instruments of the soul and the sense organs as instruments of the body suggests that he thinks of reason and will as faculties hav i n g internal s t ruc­ tures of t heir own distinct from that of the soul as a whole. This concl u s i o n is strengthened by a statement he m a k e s that

"reason and will do not comprise the w hole soul,

but each is something in the s o u l . " 44 A n o ther statement that also points in the direction of a faculty p s y c h o l o g y is his contention that the will is not a s u bstance but n e v e rtheless has an essential nature of its own.

As he puts it, I think that both the will and the turning of the will are something. For although they are not substances, neverth e l e s s it cannot be denied that they are essential natures, since there are m a n y essential natures besides those w h i c h are properly c a lled s u b s t a n c e s . 45 This statement presupposes a distin c t i o n b e tween s u b ­

stance and accident.

He gives an account of this d i s t i n c ­

tion in De G r a m m a t i c o , w here he writes,

Att0Elnt*j0 DflEtrtttE n f

25

JrPEdrtm and

ttys J U t l l

We m a y take it that the name ' m a n 1 signifies directly, and as a single whole, the c o m p l e t e m a k e - u p of man. Of this, substance is the chief feature, as the g r ound and p o s s e s s o r of the others, and this not in the sense that it is incomplete w i t hout them, but rat h e r that they are incomplete w i t h o u t it. A f t e r all, there is no characteristic of substance in the absence of w h i c h substance is also absent, whereas in the absence of substance no c h a r ­ acteristics can e x i s t . 1*6 In line with this,

the will w o u l d be one c h a r a c t e r i s t i c

included in the signification of the w o r d

" m a n , " but it is a

characteristic w hich depends for its e x i s t e n c e upon m a n and belongs to the substance man.

Ansel m ' s p o int in saying that

the will, while not a substance,

is an esse n t i a l n a t u r e is

that even though the will is d ependent for e x i s t e n c e upon some substance in which it inheres,

it n e v e r t h e l e s s has an

essential nature of its own. This seems to c o n firm the v i e w that A n s e l m t h o u g h t of the will as a psychic faculty,

but we m u s t be c a reful not to

read too m u c h out of this passage.

For w h i l e e v e r y t h i n g he

says in it is entirely congruous w i t h a the o r y of ps y c h i c faculties, the

will

we must also notice that eve r y t h i n g he says a b o u t itself in this passage is also ap p l i e d

or turning,

of the will.

to the ac

And no one w o u l d w a n t to argue

that this exists in any w a y analogous to the wa y a faculty exists.

So, we have a passage which,

taken by itself,

conclusive with regard to our present problem. gether with the other passages cited so far,

is i n ­

But t a k e n t o ­

it forms a part

of a body of evidence in favor of inte r p r e t i n g his d o c t r i n e as a faculty psychology that is quite impressive. A problem arises,

however,

in that A n s e l m m a k e s o t h e r

statements which seem to conflict w i t h a fa c u l t y psychology. These have to do mainly with the question of what is the most basic and ultimate principle of willing in the rational c r e a ­ ture— the will itself or the soul which possesses the will. In some places he indicates that it is the w i l l , 1,7 while in

other places he speaks of it as the soul,

saying that when a

p e r s o n wills it is the soul which does so through the wil l . " 8 It is not immediately evident that these two positions are irreconcilable.

But w h e n we look at some possi b l e s u g ­

gesti o n s as to h o w a r e conciliation m i g h t be achieved,

we

find that the m o r e obvious possibilities all run into d i f f i ­ culties.

One could maintain,

for instance,

that when we

think of a b o d i l y instrument like the hands and of their acts,

such as grasping,

either,

it m akes perfectl y good sense to say

"His hands reached out and grasped the railing," or

"He r e a c h ed out and grasped the railing w i t h his hands." Si m i l a r l y we can think of acts of w i l l i n g as p e rformed u l t i ­ m a t e l y by the soul,

but p erformed through the use of a spe­

cial instrument, n a mely the will,

w hich belongs to the soul

and w h i c h is p e c u l i a r l y fitted for perform i n g acts of w i l l ­ ing. A p r o b l e m w i t h this re f e r r e d to here, gous.

suggestion is that the two cases

grasping and willing,

Fo r in the case of grasping,

are not really a n a l o ­

we are already assuming

the e x i s t ence of a basic principle that originates movement, n a m e l y the will,

and w i t hout this it would be impossible for

a m a n to m o v e his hands or to use them for grasping s o m e ­ thing.

But w h e n our concern is with the first p r inciple of

willing,

we cannot assume there are already acts of w i l l . 49

So here we have a unique problem,

and because it is unique,

there are no helpful analogies to be drawn from other forms of h u m a n activity. The d i f f i c u l t y in solving this unique pr o b l e m is that h o w e v e r we interpret the nature of the will,

wh e t h e r as a

special f aculty of the soul or as a general capacity, lems remain.

prob­

If we think of the w i l l - i n s t r u m e n t as having

its ow n structure or essential nature different from that of the soul in the same w a y that the hands have a structure and esse n t i a l n a ture dif fe r e n t from that of the body, we seem unable to recon c i l e the two sets of statements w h i c h A n s e l m

3D

A n selm 's UncirtttE nf J r e e d n m a n d tljs W i l l

makes concerning the basic p rinciple of willing. soul and the will are distinct,

For if the

then we have two principles,

and they cannot both be the ultim a t e pr i n c i p l e of willing, for o b viously there can be only one u l t i m a t e principle.

It

seems that the only way out of this d i f f i c u l t y is to think of the power of w i l ling as a general ca p a c i t y of the soul. Then we could say that the soul is the first p r i n c i p l e of willing,

i.e., that the only structured thing w h i c h does any

wi l l i n g is the soul. of this capacity,

The term "will" w o u l d then be the name

and the w i l l - i n s t r u m e n t w o u l d just be the

soul in its capacity for willing.

In this case,

it w o u l d be

a m a t t er of indifference w h e t h e r one spoke of the soul w i l l ­ ing or w h e ther one spoke of the instrument willing, w h i c h e ver locution were used,

for

the basic r e f e r e n t w o u l d be

the s o u l . This suggestion, its own,

however,

is not w i t h o u t p r o b l e m s of

for it requires us to take the t e r m "instrument"

in

an e x tremely loose sense when used of the powers of the soul as distinct from when it is used of the powers of the body. It is not at all clear from the close anal o g i e s which. A n s e l m draws between the instruments of the body that he would accept this,

soul and t h ose of the

e s pecially w h e n we c o n s i d e r

that he shows extreme care and preci s i o n in the use of l a n ­ guage.

Moreover,

he speaks of the will as an i n s t r u m e n t in

m o r e than just an isolated passage or two.

It is u s e d w i d e l y

in works that cover a period of around t h i r t y years. Perhaps our p r o b l e m is that in think i n g of the w i l l as a faculty of the soul, we are m a k i n g too m u c h of a d i s t i n c ­ tion between the soul and its powers. for instance,

It m i g h t be suggested,

that while we do not want to say that the i m ­

me d i a t e structural basis for w i l ling is the w h ole soul, we do not want to go to the other extreme and hold t h a t there is a v ery sharp distinction b e t ween the soul and the will. But this makes sense only if a via m e d i a can be found w h i c h squares with all of Anselm's various statements.

Can such a

mills

31

tlje

Baste J a c u l f g a m i d d l e ground be found? J o s e p h Fische r has proposed that in A n s e l m the relation of the soul to its powers is c onceived along the lines of the r e l a t i o n of the b o d y to its m e m b e r s . 50

No w this m a y seem no

d i f f e r e n t from the suggestion already discussed and c r i t i ­ cized.

There is, however,

at least one critical difference.

The e a r l ier suggestion was that an analogy be drawn b e tween a b o d y and the hands grasping and the soul and the will willing. That

is to say, the analogy was drawn bet w e e n a ma n and his

u s e of a b o d i l y power and the soul and its use of the will.

The p r e s e n t s u ggestion is that an analogy be drawn b e tween the b o d y and its m e m ber s and senses

(i.e.,its instruments)

on e h a n d and the soul and its powers on the other. ly,

on the

According­

just as the b o d y is made up of its me m b e r s and senses,

and

just as these m e m bers and senses together constitute the o r ­ ganic unity,

or substance,

of the body,

so also the soul is

m a d e up of its powers, w h i c h together constitute the substance of the soul.

B e c ause the analogue is no w the b o d y and its

powers rather than the b o d y and the use of its powers, w e avoid the d i f f i c u l t y encou n t e r e d earlier concerning the p r inciple or u l t i m a t e source of

m o v e m e n t for the bodily instruments.

ing to the v i e w w e

are n o w considering, the b o d y is not

Accord­ some­

t h ing a bove and b e y o n d the totality and u n ity of its m e mbers and senses,

and yet it

cannot be identified w i t h any one or

several

of its m e m b e r s or senses taken in separation from the others. Similarly,

the soul is not some principle w h i c h is above and b e ­

y o n d the t o t a l i t y and u n i t y of its powers,

and yet,

it too c a n ­

not be i d entified w i t h any single power or set of powers b e l o n g ­ ing to it taken apart from the others. then,

The powers of the soul,

are all essential to the nature of the soul,

just as the

i n s t r u m e nts of the b o d y are all essential to the nature of the body. This provides us with a way of thinking which allows us to say either that the soul or that the w i ll-instrument is the ultimate principle of willing,

yet without being forced

32

An a i ? l m*0 f l n c f r t n p

af

Trppdom and tlje K i l l to adopt the view that the will-instrume n t is m e r e l y a g e n ­ eral capacity of the soul.

We may still think of the will-

instrument as a power that is really distinct from other p o w ­ ers of the soul. helpful. hands.

Here again the analogy with the body is

When a man grasps a handrail,

he does it with his

Nevertheless we recognize this as a bod i l y action,

an action performed by the body.

But we do not think of the

ability to grasp handrails as a general capacity of the body as such, but rather as a specific capacity of one cl e a r l y d e ­ fined part of the body, and acts of will.

the hands.

Similarly with the soul

Even though willing is p r o p e r l y an act

performed by the will-instrument,

we can say that w i l l i n g is

an act of the soul, because the will is a part of the soul. But this does not mean that the power of w i lling is a general capacity of the soul any more than the fact that grasping is a bodily action means that the ability to grasp is a general power of the body.

The power of will is a specific p o wer of

one clearly defined part of the soul. This solution preserves the v i e w that the will has a d i stinctive nature and structure w h i c h is not i d entical w i t h that of the soul as such, yet does so wi t h o u t d i f f e r e n t i a t i n g the will from the soul so compl e t e l y that there is a c o n f l i c t in saying at

one time

the will,

the first and basic princip l e of willing.

is

that the soul,

Fischer's proposal,

then,

solution to our difficulties. tirely free of problems.

and

at an o t h e r time that

seems to o f fer a p r o m i s i n g Nevertheless,

it is not e n ­

The m o s t important of these .is

that A n s e l m menti o n s only two powers of the soul, n a m e l y reason and will,

and says of them that

not comprise

the whole soul, but each is

s o u l . " 51

F ischer's interpretation is

If

"reason and w i l l do some t h i n g in the correct,

we w o u l d

have to construe this statement as m e a n i n g that there are powers other than reason and will w h i c h b e l o n g to and go to m a k e up the soul.

But outside of this s t atement A n s e l m

gives no indication w h a t s o e v e r that he rec o g n i z e s any such

in ix 11

33

tin?

Senate J a c u l t g powers.

This is so striking that commentators have been led,

w i t h some justification,

to conclude that for A n s e l m the

soul has only two functions, of course, wrong.

knowing and w i l l i n g . 52

This,

does not demonstrate that Fischer's solution is

It does,

however,

show that the evidence for it in

A n s e l m ' s writi n g s is not conclusive. The u p shot of our examination of this question, theless,

never­

is that the m o s t reasonable interpretation of A n ­

selm's c once p t i o n of the relation of the soul and the will is the one suggeste d by Fischer. is not c oncl u s i v e is due,

That the evidence for this

I think,

to the fact that A n s e l m

was not p a r t i c u l a r l y troubled by the kind of theoretical q u e s t i o n we have been considering.

He was m u c h m o r e c o n ­

c e r n e d w i t h pract i c a l problems about the o p eration of the w i l l than w i t h strictly theoretical q u e s t i o n s . 53 If the above c o nclusion about Anselm's doctrine is c o r ­ rect,

it is clear that the claim that Anselm's thought is

b a s i c a l l y A u g u s t i n i a n cannot be sustained w i t h respect to the p s y c h o l o g y of his later period.

In this later period

A n s e l m rejects the identity of the soul and its powers found in Augustine.

Moreover,

he draws an important distinction

not found in A ugustine between the powers of the soul and the us e or exercise of these powers.

This distin c t i o n came

later to be v i e w e d as a specific instance of the b r oader d i s t i n c t i o n b e t ween act and potency.

A n d together these

d i s t i n c t i o n s under g i r d e d the development of a full-blown m e d i e v a l faculty psychology. course,

It w o u l d be a mistake,

of

to assimilate Anselm's p s ycholog y to the highly

e l a b o r a t e d faculty psych o l o g y of Thomas Aquinas and his f o l ­ lowers,

w h i c h recognizes a w hole panoply of powers in the

soul an d a r r a n g e d t h e m into a clearly defined hierarchical order.

Nevertheless

the A u g u s t i n i a n view,

it has m o r e in common w i t h it than with and in the history of medie v a l p s y c h o l ­

o g y it is one of the first important steps in its direction. A feature of Ansel m ' s doctrine w h i c h has been clearly

AttBPlm *0 S n c l r t t t E n f T rp p dn m and tl}S ICt XX

34

evident in what has been said so far but w h i c h has no t b e e n singled out for special a ttention is his c o n t e n t i o n that the will is a power o f the soul.

In a few places A n s e l m gives

indications that he thinks that m a n is to be i d e n t i f i e d w i t h m o r e than simply his soul,

that m a n is a c o m p o s i t e b e ing

m a d e up essentially of both soul and body.

The s t r o n g e s t

statement of the intrinsic u n i t y of soul and b o d y in m a n is an o b i t e r d i c t u m dropped to illustrate the intim a t e u n i t y of the two natures,

divine and human,

in the God-Man.

Thus, while it is n e c e s s a r y to find a GodM a n in w h o m the integrity of b o t h n a tures is preserved, it is no less n e c e s s a r y for these two complete natures to m e e t in one person— just as body and ratio n a l soul m e e t in one m a n — for o therwis e the same person could not be p e r fect God and pe r f e c t m a n .5 4 Along with this,

A n s e l m also indicates that both soul and

body are included in God's ultimate purposes for man. If man had p e rsevered in justice, he w o u l d have been eternally b l e ssed in his entire being, soul and body. Thus we can conce i v e nothing m o r e just and appropr i a t e than for h i m to be eternally and entir e l y m i s e r a b l e in soul and body, if he persi s t s in i n j u s t i c e . 55 In spite of these statements,

however,

the g r eat w e i g h t

of Anselm's teaching concerning m a n and the soul c l e a r l y i n ­ dictates that the unity of soul and body is not one of e q u a l ­ ly fundamental principles.

All the most important activities

of man,

particularly knowing and willing,

of the

soul and the body combined,

Even sensation, ment,

are operations not

but of the

in which there is clearly

bodily i n v o l v e ­

is essentially an activity of the soul.

and the senses will nothing through themselves. is really the soul

of the soul.

"The members . . .

It

. . . which feels and acts in those

senses and m e m b e r s . " 56 m e nts of the soul,

soul alone.

The senses,

then,

are m e r e l y i n s t r u ­

and they remain pass i v e in the a c t i v i t i e s

What is true here of the senses is true also

of the body generally.

Its essential c h a r a c t e r as part of

the h u m a n c o m p o s i t e is to be an instrument of the soul. is the soul,

It

then, w h i c h is the center of all life and c o n ­

s c i o usness for man.

But not only is it the center,

the w h o l e life and consciousness for man.

it is

A man's entire

h i s t o r y c o u l d be w r i t t e n in terms of the events and a c t i v i ­ ties of his soul. A n s e l m ' s debt to A ugustine on this point is clearly evident.

A u g u s t i n e h a d d e f ined m a n as

u s i n g a b o d y . " 57 G i l s o n writes,

"a rational soul

C o mmenting on this definition,

"Taken literally,

that a m a n is essen t i a l l y his soul. took it q uite literally,

but,

Etienne

this formula w o uld mean

rather,

Augustine himself never as a forcible e x p r e s ­

sion of the trans c e n d e n t superiority of the soul over the b o d y . " 58

A n s e l m takes over A u g ustine's v i e w of the nature

of m a n and of the relation of soul and body in m a n wi t h o u t esse n t i a l change,

for every account that he gives of the

o p e r a t i o n s and activities of the human being reflects A u g u s ­ tine's definition.

But because,

like Augustine,

he too

w a n t s to m a k e room for the body in the essential nature of m a n and in the ultimate purposes of God for man,

the remark

w h i c h G i lson m a k e s conce r n i n g Augustine's doctrine applies eq u a l l y to Anselm:

he n ever takes the def i n i t i o n completely

l i t e r a l l y but his agreement w i t h it indicates his strong bel i e f in the overw h e l m i n g superiority of the soul over the body. This provides us further explanatio n of why, study of m o r a l i t y and freedom,

in his

Anselm's atte n t i o n is focused

so e x c l u s i v e l y upon the soul and its internal acts of w i l l ­ ing rather than upon the observable man and his actual b e ­ havior.

The external actions of a m a n w h i c h m a k e up his o b ­

servable b e h a v i o r are the result of something m o r e f u n d a ­ mental,

n a m e l y activ i t y in the soul.

This leads us n a t u r a l l y to the quest i o n of the general funct i o n and p u r pose of the will as an instrument of the

3B

AnaElnt's B n c l r t n P nf J r E B d o m and 1I}2 J D t l l IV.

THE G E N ERAL FUNCT I O N AN D PURPOSE OF THE W I L L

We have seen that in Anselm's tho u g h t it is n o t p o s ­ sible to d i s tinguish the nature of a thing from the p u r p o s e or function it fulfills.

Up to n o w we have c o n c e n t r a t e d

our a t tention on the general character of the w i l l and on its relation to the soul.

N o w we m u s t turn to a c o n s i d e r a ­

tion of the purpose or function it fulfills.

Our t r e a t m e n t

of the function of the will will be d i v i d e d into two s e c ­ tions.

The first of these will deal w i t h its imme d i a t e

function in human action,

w hile the second will p l ace its

o p eration w i thin the w ider context of the final en d of man. A.

Its Immediate F u n c t i o n .

The basic

funct i o n of the

will is to serve as the m o v i n g p rincipl e of all action. that a person does,

Al l

as opposed to that w h i c h h a ppens to h i m

and over w hich he has no control,

is s u b o r d i n a t e to his will.

As A n s elm himself states it, The instrument of will m oves all the other instruments w hich we freely m o v e — b o t h those instruments w h i c h are a part of us (such as our hands, our tongue, our sight) and those that are independent of us (such as a pen or an axe). Furthermore, it cau s e s all our v oluntary m o v e m e n t s . 5 9 Anselm's views on reason and on s e nsation fall right into line with this.

The use of rea s o n is g o v e r n e d by

the w i l l , 60 and in sensation it is the soul w h i c h a c t u a l l y does the perceiving and not the senses— the soul uses the senses as its instruments.

It is also true that

"whatever

the me mbers and senses do m u s t be imputed e n t i r e l y to the w i l l . " 61

It follows,

therefore,

that w h e n the soul is act i v e

in sensation or other activities, is active.

it is the will by w h i c h it

A n s e l m carries this point to w h a t m a y seem an

extreme position,

for he seems to b e l ie v e that w h a t e v e r the

body sees,

and experiences,

feels,

experi enced by the will.

He says,

is rea l l y seen, for instance,

the senses are delig h t e d or tormented,

felt and

that w h e n

it is rea l l y the w i l l

IHtll; Baatc

t !| e Jacultg

37

w h i c h is delig h t e d or t o r m e n t e d . 62 he c l e a r l y holds that whate v e r

But be that as it may,

is w i t h i n the power of a r a ­

tional b eing to do is under the control and dire c t i o n of the will. He brings out the point in another wa y when he says (to ren d er it literally),

"All power follows the w i l l . " 63

D. P. H e nry translates this a little more freely:

"The e x e r ­

cise

of e very personal capacity is depen d e n t on the w i l l . " 64

This

simply m eans that rational agents are not able to

per­

f o r m any a c tivities of their own unless they first will to do so.

A n s e l m explains, W h e n I say that I can speak or walk, it is implicitly under s t o o d that I can do these things only if I will to do so. If w i l l i n g ­ ness is not implicitly u n dersto o d in this fashion, then it is no longer a m a t t e r of power, but rather of n e c e s s i t y . 65 Thus, w h e n

w h i c h he

occurs in a person some behavior

himself has not willed,

ly speaking, w i l l it.

there

then this behavior, s t r i c t ­

is not his action at all,

because he did not

It is the result of some other force acting on him.

The doctrine that all power follows the will has several important consequences.

One of these is that even

t h o u g h a person is c o mpletely fitted in every wa y to do some p a r t i c u l a r thing,

so that all that is nee d e d for him to do

it is to will it, yet at the same time he is for some r e a ­ son una b le to will it,

there is a categorical sense in w h ich

he is unable and lacks the power to do it.

A c l ear example

of this is seen in the case of the God-Man, who,

says Anselm,

w h o l l y lacks the power to sin even though he has the s u b ­ j e ctive capac i t y to say or do things that in certain contexts w o u l d be sinful. H o w shall we say that he could not have lied, though this is always a sin? For w h e n he says to the Jews concer n i n g the Father, "If I shall say that I k n o w hi m not, I shall be like you, a liar," and in the midst of this sentence pronounces

32

AnaElm'a D n c i r t n * a f J r e e d a m a nd t l j s JUtXX the words, "I k n o w h i m not," w h o will say that he could not have spoken these words and no others, so as to say simply, "I know him not"? But if he did this, as he himself says, he w o u l d be a liar, that is, a sinner. Therefore, since he could have done this, he could have s i n n e d . 66

Ansel m ' s answer to this query applies the p r i n c i p l e that all power follows the will. We can say of Christ that he c o uld tell a lie, provided that it is imp l icitly under s t o o d that he could do so only if he w i lled so to do. A n d since he could not tell a lie w i t hout b e i n g w i l l i n g to do so, but at the same time c o uld not be w i l l i n g to do so, he can e q u a l l y p r o p e r l y be said to have been unable to tell a lie. In this way, then, he both co uld and could not tell a l i e . 67 A second consequence of the doctr i n e that all p o w e r follows the will is that in order for one to be j u s t i f i e d holding a

person responsible for a deed or action,

m u s t be something that the person w i l l e d to do. does not will an action,

If a p e r s o n

it is not his a c t i o n at all,

w o uld be w rong to hold h i m responsible for it.

in

t h a t deed

and it

A n s e l m is so

insistent upon this that he m aintains that all w h o share the guilt of original sin and experience the m o r a l w e a k n e s s w h ich comes as a result of it are in some sense r e s p o n s i b l e it t h r o u g h

w i l l . 68

for

it,and responsible for

the

will is the focal point of all a person's own activity,

the

Because

it is also the ultimate b e arer of m o r a l responsibility. This ties in w i t h Anselm's c l a i m that m o r a l d u t y — justice— is to preserve the rectitude o f the w i l l own s a k e . 69

Sin,

or injustice,

to preserve rectitude;

it is therefore the lack of justice

where justice ought to be, n a m e l y doctrine,

for its

is the f a ilure o f the will

in

the w i l l . 70

In Anselm's

all the basic moral categorie s an d p r e d i c a t e s a p ­

ply directly to the will;

indeed,

they apply only to the w i l l . 71

in the s t rictest sense,

Hence e v e ry t h i n g for w h i c h

a m a n m e r i t s moral praise or blame is s o mething w h i c h he

m ill: Baatc

tlje Jarulfg

33

w i l l s to do. The contr a s t b e t ween Anselm's doctrine of will and p o wer and Augus t i n e ' s makes a

is striking.

sharp disti n c t i o n between

Unlike Anselm, Augustine v o l u n t a s and p o t e s t a s .

There are then two faculties— the exercise of the will and the exercise of p o wer— and not everyone that has the will has the p ower also, nor has everyone that possesses the power got the will in immediate control; for as we sometimes will what we cannot do, so also we sometimes can do what we do not w i l l . 72 Fo r Augustine, each other.

will and power are often i n dependent of

They are not ordered,

as they are for Anselm, so

t h a t p o w er is always subordinate to the will. view,

In Augustine's

the will does not always have the efficacy to carry

out its decisions or to put its good intentions into p r a c ­ tice.

This impotence of the will constitutes one of the

g r e a t e s t m o r a l and theological problems for Augustine.

In

his t h i n k i n g it was one of the distinguis h i n g c h a r a c t e r i s ­ tics of the state of sin,

and it was the condition w h i c h

m a d e the state of sin so utterly hopeless for m a n apart f r o m the grace of God.

In the C o n f e s s i o n s Augu s t i n e tells

of his own e x perience of this c ondition w h e n he was s t r u g ­ g l ing to become free from his sin and to give h i mself to God. But I was m a d that I m i g h t be whole, and d ying that I m i g h t have life, kn o w i n g what evil thing I was, but not knowing w h a t good thing I was shortly to become.... I was d i s ­ q u i e t e d in spirit, being m o s t impatient w i t h m y s e l f that I entered not into thy will and covenant, 0 m y God, w h i c h all my bones c ried out to me to enter, e x tolling it to the skies. And we enter not therein by ships, or chariots, or feet, no, nor by going so far as I had come from the house to that place w h e r e we were sitting. For not to go only, but to enter there, was nought else but to will to go, but to will it r e s o l u t e l y and thoroughly; not to s t a g ­ ger and sway about this w a y and that, a c h angeable and half- w o u n d e d will, wres t l i n g w i t h one part falling as another r o s e . 73

At t He l m' j B D n c f r t t t P rtf J r p p d a m a n d tifs 3Ht X 1

4fl

Augustine is here echoing the e x perienc e w h i c h the A p o s t l e Paul records in the famous and a nguishe d cry of his, will is present w i t h me, good,

I know n o t . " 74

"For to

but h o w to p e r f o r m that w h i c h is

Not surprisingly,

this is a v e r s e

w h ich A ugustine frequently q u o t e s . 75 It must be caref u l l y n oted that A u g u s t i n e ' s p r o b l e m is not primarily that of executing decisions that have a l r e a d y been made. pr o b l e m

It is

something deeper than

of h o w to bring oneself to will

that;

it is

the

effectivelysome­

thing w h i c h we readily recognize and co ncede to be right and w h ich in some sense we already sinc e r e l y des i r e to will. So m a n y things, then, I did, w h e n to have the will was not to have the power, and I did not that w h i c h b o t h w i t h an u n e q u a l l e d desire I longed more to do, and w h i c h shortly w h e n I should will, I should will thoroughly. For in such things the p o w e r was one with the will, and to w i l l w a s to do, and yet it was not done; and m o r e readily did the body obey the slig h t e s t w i s h of the soul in m o v i n g its limbs at the order of the mind, than the soul obeyed itself to a c complish in the will alone this its great will.... The m i n d commands the body, and it obeys f o r t h ­ with; the mind commands itself and is r e ­ sisted. ... The mind commands the m i n d to will, and yet, though it be itself, it obeys not. Whence this monstrous thing? and why is it? I repeat, it commands i t ­ self to will, and would not give the c o m ­ mand unless it willed; yet is not that done which it c o m m a n d s . 76 Augustine's experience here is of a will d i v i d e d against

itself.

On the one hand,

to do what is right;

on

the o ther

it has a sincere d e s i r e hand,

the des i r e is not

strong enough to y ield a resolute and e f f e c t i v e decision. The sort of thing d escribed here is starkly i l l u s t r a t e d in the famous prayer of Augustine's youth: and continency,

"Give m e c h a s t i t y

but not y e t . " 77

Now A n s e l m does not deny that there are times w h e n a per s o n is not able actually to do what he w i l l s to do.

But

the o n l y cases of this

sort w hich he considers are those

w h e r e a person is p revented from carrying out his will b e ­ c a u s e of external circumstances beyond his control. however,

This,

is c l e arly not the kind of case that troubles

Augustine,

w h o is just as quick as A n s e l m to recognize that

exter n a l c ircumstances b e yond one's control do not affect one's moral

s t a n d i n g . 78

The kind of inability w h ich t o r ­

m e n t s A u g u s t i n e is caused by some kind of internal force or i n ertia w i t h i n one's own soul, v e nts us, ment.

as we m ight say,

something wit h i n w h i c h p r e ­

from following our better judg­

As common as the experience of this kind of inability

m a y be,

Anselm's thought m akes no room for it.

if a person wills anything in his power,

In his view,

i.e., anything within

the range of his a p t i t u d i n e s , then barring o n l y the i n t e r f e r ­ ence of external circumstances, and c a t eg o r i c a l

sense,

he is able,

in an absolute

to carry it out.

There are several possible misconc e p t i o n s w h ich might be d r awn from this w h i c h we should avoid.

First,

Anselm's

d o c t r i n e of the relation of power to will does not m e a n that the w i l l n ever experiences any impotence or inability.

An­

selm insists just as strongly as A ugusti n e that the will does no t have the same kind of power after it has sinned that it had before.

But for A n s e l m this inability is p r e ­

c i s e l y an i nability to will rather than an inability to will s t r o n g l y or efficaciously.

In his v i e w the will either has

the a b i l ity to will or it does not. w h e r e the will has only a weak, ity to will.

There is no t e r t i u m q u i d

partial,

or ineffectual a b i l ­

W h e n the will through sin loses its a b ility to

will w h a t is right,

the only way it can be restored is by

grace.

just as central a role in human s a l v a ­

Grace plays

tion for A n s e l m as for Augustine.

But A n s e l m is not as

a l ive as A u g u s t i n e to the subtleties,

complexities,

b i g u i t i e s in m an's struggle to find redemption.

and a m ­

In contrast

to A u g u s t i n e ' s sensitive and p e n etrating portrayal of the sea r c h for God,

A n s e l m roundly declares,

"Those wh o say,

42

A t w e t m ' B Dr t c f r t t t B o f J r B E d n m a nd tl }e JBtXX

'Convert us, O Lord,' In other words,

are already in some sense c o n v e r t e d . " 79

the desire,

or will,

c o n v ersion is an efficacious will. extant writings, tions,

of these peo p l e for Not once in any of his

including his letters,

prayers,

does A n s e l m ever quote Romans 7:18,

was so significant for Augustine:

and m e d i t a ­

the v e r s e that

"To w i l l is p r e s e n t w i t h

me, but how to p e r form that w h i c h is go o d I k n o w n o t . " 80 This is not surprising,

for it is hard to see w h a t he could

have m ade of such a statement. This is not to suggest— and this is the second m i s c o n ­ c e ption we should avoid— that there cannot be any m o r a l struggle.

It is quite possible for one to be d e e p l y torn

b e tween m oral alternatives.

At a number of points A n s e l m

asks us to imagine a situation in w h i c h a p e r s o n is forced to m a k e a decision between telling a lie or losing his life, and he offers this case as an example of a p a r t i c u l a r l y d i f ­ ficult moral c h o i c e . 81

He thus recognizes the o c c u r r e n c e of

difficult moral conflicts.

The point,

though,

of his d o c ­

trine of will and power is that h o w e v e r d i f f i c u l t the cho i c e b e tween alternatives may be, the alternatives facing us,

if w e are able to w i l l any of then w e are able to will t h e m

efficaciously. A third possible m i s c o n c e p t i o n is one w h i c h w o u l d see A n s e l m as denying that.a person can be h e s i t a n t or v a c i l ­ lating in w h a t he wills.

The doctrine that all p o w e r f o l ­

lows the will pertains p rimarily to the ability,

or power,

person has to will and not to his actual volitions.

a

A de­

cision w h i c h is made with h e sitation or v a c i l l a t i o n is a par t i c ular act of willing,

and these p r o p e r t i e s of the act

should not be ascribed to the basic abi l i t y to will.

If I

have the ability to will something then I can will it r e s o ­ lutely and effectively. will

This does not m e a n that I always

do this. The dictum that all p ower follows the will is an e x ­

tr e m e l y important point in Anselm's doctrine,

b e c a u s e freedom,

mi 1 1 s n * Baste

43

Jacultg

in his view,

is d e f i n e d in terms of power.

he tells us,

"is p o w e r . " 82

It is the power to preserve the

rect i t u d e of the will for its own s a k e . 83 freedom, the will,

"All freedom,"

The nature of

then, m u s t be under s t o o d in light of the nature of and the exercise of freedom depends upon the a b i l ­

ity to will. There is a second immediate function of the will, c l o s e l y r e l ated to the one we have just been looking at. Once it is estab l i s h e d that the will moves all the other powers an agent has, m o v e s the will. self;

there is still the quest i o n of what

Anselm's answer is that the will m o ves it­

as he puts it,

the will is a "self-moving instrument."8 **

This function of the will is logically prior to the other one: bef o r e the will can move any of the other powers it m u s t first m o v e itself. T h ere are at least two possible ways in w h ich s e l f ­ movement

in the will can be understood.

The will can be

t h o u g h t to be self-moving in the sense that it is autonomous and acts in a c ontra-causal way.

This means that the choices

of the will are not c a used or brought about by some external force,

but that the will itself is the sole sufficient cause

of its actions.

On the o ther hand,

the will m a y be thought

of as s e l f-moving in the sense that the will m o ves or wills itself to will.

This is not incompatible w i t h the first

sense but it adds a further ingredient,

namely, that it is

p o s s i b l e to find causes of a volition in prior volitions,

or

s e c o n d - o r d e r volitions.

A second-order volit i o n or decision

is a d e c i s i o n to decide,

or a will to will.

v i ous p r o b l e m w i t h this view,

There is an o b ­

for it leads to an infinite

r e gress of e v e r-higher o rder volitions. H o w does A n s e l m conceive the self-movement of the will? This q u e s t i o n is not easy to answer,

for there are some p a s ­

sages w h i c h seem at first sight to favor the first m e a n i n g g i ven above, w h i l e there are others w hich seem to support the second.

Examples of the latter are:

"A ma n cannot will

At t HEl m' a U n r t r t n p a f J r EEdt t m a nd t l j ? f f i t l l

44

against his will because he cannot will u n w i l l i n g l y to will. For everyone willi n g l y wills h i m self to w i l l ; " 85 and

"It is

w r o n g to say that a man wills to lie a g a i n s t his will, he only wills this willingly. w h e n he lies,

since

For just as he w i l l s to lie

so he wills to will when he w i lls to l i e . " 86

These passages strongly suggest that An s e l m ' s v i e w is the one w h ich generates the infinite regress. Yet we also find statements that seem to show he a v oid ed the infinite regress. dcd

When the s t u d e n t - i n t e r l o c u t o r in

raises the question about Satan,

he was not supposed to will?"

"Why did he w i l l w h a t

the m a s t e r replies,

"No cause

prece d ed this will except his mere abil i t y to will."

But

assuming that different effects cannot have iden t i c a l causes he amends this by saying that there m u s t be some o t h e r c a use than the mere ability to will,

for the good angel ha d the

same ability to will but did not sin. presses the question, m a s t e r answers,

"Why,

then,

The student t h e r e u p o n

did he will?" to w h i c h the

"Only because he willed.

For there wa s no

other cause by which his will was in any w a y d r i v e n or d r awn but his own will was both its own e ffic i e n t cause an d its own effect— if such a thing can be s a i d . " 87

A n o t h e r pa s s a g e

shows that A n s e l m clearly recognizes that an infinite r e ­ gress is fatal to the theory of the will as self-moving. When the teacher asks

"Why do you say that yo u di d n o t will

to p e rsevere in the willing?"

the follo w i n g e x c h a n g e takes

place. S. Again, I m i g h t reply that I di d w i l l to persevere, but that I did not p e r s e v e r e in this w i l ling to persevere; but then the a r ­ gument would continue to infinity, w i t h yo u always asking the same quest i o n and m e always giving the same answer. T. Then you should not say, "I did not will to persevere in the w i l ling b e cause I did not will to persevere in the w i l l i n g of this willing to persevere." But rather, w h e n y o u are first asked w h y you did not p e r s e v e r e in any activity in w hich you wer e w i l l i n g and

able to persevere, you should answer, "Because I didn't persevere in willing." But if you are asked again why you didn't persevere in willing, you m u s t not answer that you did not persevere in w i l l i n g to will to persevere, but you m u s t give another reason w h i c h e x ­ plains the failure of the will. For unless you give this other reason, you m e r e l y repeat the question in your reply, i.e., that you haven't persevere d in w i l l ­ ing to persevere in the a c t i o n . 88 But if A n s e l m specifically recognizes the force of the o b j ection conce r n i n g infinite regress,

h o w are the p a s ­

sages to be interpreted w h i c h seem to commit h i m to it? The b e s t a n swer is to read these passages not as p o s t u ­ lating h i g h e r - o r d e r causes in the process of wi l l i n g but as m a k i n g a logical point about the very co ncept of willing. The c o n t exts in w h i c h w e find the statements quo t e d above s u pport this interpretation.

The whole p a ragraph in w h i c h

the first quota t i o n appears is as follows. No one deserts rectitude except by w i lling to desert it. If "against one's will" means " u n w i llingly," then no one deserts rectitude against his will. A m a n can be bound against his will because he can be bound unwillingly; a m a n can be tortured against his will b e ­ cause he can be tortured unwillingly; a man can be killed against his will because he can be k i lled unwillingly. But a ma n cannot will against his will because he cannot will u n ­ w i l l i n g l y to will. For everyone will i n g l y w ills h i m self to w i l l . 89 A n s e l m thus is not saying that there is always a secondo r der d e c i s i o n p rior to the first-order decis i o n to do something,

but simply that it is logically incoherent to

say that one can will something against one's will. w i l l s something,

he is doing it w i t h his will,

If one

so he cannot

be d o ing it u n w i l l i n g l y . 90 The second of the two statements cited above as s e e m ­ ing to commit A n s e l m to an infinite regress is also s u s ­ c e p t i b l e to this interpretation.

It deals w i t h the same

45

AttB£lm*j0 U n t f r n n e

general problem— how

the will can sin;

general point— one cannot sin, against one's will.

nf

JrPEdont and tlje

3HiXX

and it m a k e s the

same

i.e., will s o m e t h i n g wrong,

We can safely conclude,

then,

that

Anselm thought of the will itself as the sole sufficient cause of the will's own acts,

thus avoiding an infinite

series of acts of willing before every act. Though infinite regress is avoided,

there still r e ­

mains the question of how this s elf-mov e m e n t is possible. If all m o v e m e n t of the will

is self-movement,

then the t r a n ­

sition in the will from a state in w h i c h it is no t a c t i n g to a state in w h i c h it is m u s t be a work of the will. can the will,

in a state of non-action,

The v e r y phrase

"bring itself to act"

But h o w

b r ing itself to act?

suggests that t h e r e is

already some activity in the will before it acts, w h i c h of course is logically impossible. seen by Anselm. someone

In

dcd

This d i f f i c u l t y is c l e a r l y

the m a s t e r asks,

"Can y o u tell m e

m oves himself from n o t -willing to w i l l i n g ?

will to move?" and the student answers, that someone is moved,

Does he

"If I should say

but not by his own willing,

then the

c o n s equences w o u l d be that he was not m o v e d by himself, by something else."

how

The m a s t e r then suggests,

but

"Therefore,

you should say that w h o ever m oves himse l f to w i l l i n g any p a r ­ ticular thing must first will that he move....

But w h oever

is not willing anything at all can in no w a y m o v e h i m s e l f to willing."9 1 It m ight be possible to avoid the p r o b l e m s by saying that the first m o v e m e n t of the will is c o m p l e t e l y s p o n t a n ­ eous,

that no action precedes it, but that it simply happens.

But this will not do either,

for if this is h o w the first

m o v e m e n t of the will takes place, random and w h olly inexplicable. we are considering,

it is some t h i n g e n t i r e l y The question,

then,

which

seems to resolve itself into a dilemma,

the horns of which are either logical i m p o s s i b i l i t y or i r ­ rationality. Anselm's answer to this dilemma is found in hi s theory

UltXl:

tljB

Baste

Jacultg

47

of the a f fections of the will.

He tells us that

"the i n ­

strument of the w i l l . . . m o v e s itself by its a f f e c t i o n s . " 92 We find,

therefore,

that a close e x a minat i o n of the nature

of the w i l l - a s - i n s t r u m e n t leads into the subject of the will-as-affections.

Before we can fully answer the q u e s ­

tions w h i c h arise about the will-as-instrument, v e s t i g a t e the affections. tion in the next

we m u s t in­

We will undertake this i n v e s t i g a ­

chapter.

At this point we will turn to

the q u e s t i o n of the ultim a t e purpose of the will. B.

Its U l t i m a t e P u r p o s e .

w h i c h b e longs to man,

Since the will is a power

the ultimate purpose of the will is

su b o r d i n ate to the ultim a t e purpose of man.

The will is the

p o wer of m a n w h i c h controls all that he does,

hence it is

the p r i m a r y power w h i c h enables him to fulfill his basic purpose.

The ultim a t e purpose of the will,

then,

is not

o n l y s u b ordinate to but actually identical w i t h the ultimate p u r p o s e of man.

The purpose of all his other powers and c a ­

p a c i t i e s is to serve as the instruments of the will in p u r ­ suing this ultim a t e purpose. W e are here talking about the will of men. ings,

however,

are not the only ones endo w e d w i t h will.

ratio n a l b e ings are. angels,

Human b e ­

Besides men,

All

this includes God and the

b o t h the good angels and the bad.

is u n i q u e and presents a special case.

God,

of course,

But m e n and angels

are alike in b eing rational c r e a t u r e s , and they possess in c o m m o n all the same essential features of will.

The only

d i f f e r e n c e s b e t w e e n the wills of m e n and those of angels p e r t a i n to the mode in w h i c h they possess or do not possess the same characteristics.

Both good angels and good me n

po s s e s s recti t u d e of will,

w hile evil angels and evil me n

do not.

The good angels differ from the good m e n still

living in that the latter can lose their rectitude w h i l e the former cannot.

The evil angels differ from the evil me n

still living by v i rtue of the fact that the latter ma y still have r e c t i t u d e resto r e d to them in grace w h i l e the former

4B

At t BEl m' a U a c i r t n B rtf Treprkrtra a nd l ljE i f l t l l

cannot.

The fundamental similarity of hum a n s and ang e l s is

further seen in the fact that m e n were c r e a t e d by God to fill in the gap left in the ranks of the good angels w h e n the evil angels f e l l , 93 and they w o u l d no t be able to do this unless they were of the same n a t u r e . 94 then,

of men and the angels,

angelic wills,

The u l t i m a t e purpose,

and therefore of the h u m a n and

is the s a m e . 95

A n selm speaks of the end of men in d i f f e r e n t terms in d i fferent places.

A shift in his think i n g on this topic

takes place between his earliest writin g s and his later o n e s . 96

Since he explicates his doctri n e s of the w i l l and

freedom in the later writings,

we will c o nfine our a t t e n t i o n

here to his thinking in this later period. later period,

But even in his

he describes the end of m a n in a v a r i e t y of

ways. One of his leading statements on the s u bject is,

"We

should not doubt that the rational nature wa s c r e a t e d just by God,

so that it m i g h t be b l e ssed in the e n j o y m e n t of

h i m . " 97

The word here translated

w h i c h could also be translated

"blessed"

"happy."

is " b e a t a , "

This t e r m is q u i t e

in ke e ping w i t h the Christian tradition that the u l t i m a t e end of man is the beatific v i sion of God. "enjoyment"

("fruendo").

So is the t e r m

Besides these words,

A n s e l m uses

others w hich also fall into line with the tradition. talks of blessedness, ple engage in the term "sight"

for instance,

He

as a state in w h i c h p e o ­

"contemplation of G o d ; " 98 and he uses the to characterize redee m e d m a n ' s

("species")

final s t a t e . 99 But he also discusses the final end of m a n in m u c h more m o ralistic terms.

He writes that m a n is c r e a t e d w i t h

the ultimate purpose of living a life of rectitude. keep rectitude of the will for its own sake is, keeps it,

to will w h a t God wills him to w i l l . " 100

been endowed with reason, know what is right,

we are told,

"To

for w h o e v e r Ma n has

in o r d e r for h i m to

and he has been given free w il l in o r der

mill:

tlj E

43

'Su b x c J a c u l l g for h i m to do w h a t is r i g h t . 101

Sin is a w i llful defection

from the standard of r e c t i t u d e , 102 and its result is the c o m p l e t e loss of rectitude. a p art from God's grace, The g r ace of God, the w i l l . 104

This leaves the will incapable,

of ever willing rectitude a g a i n . 103

however,

can restore the lost rectitude to

If this happens,

the final reward in the next

life for a righteous life in the present one will be e l e v a ­ tion of the will to a status in w hich it is no longer able to ab a n d on rectitude but will be c onfirme d in righteousness. This w a y of describing m a n ' s ultimate end sounds very d i f f e r e n t from enjoy i n g the c ontemplatio n and vis i o n of God. We m u s t therefore consider h o w the life of rectitude is r e ­ lated to the conte m p l a t i o n of God in man's ultimate end. The basic princ i p l e underlying Ansel m ' s thought on this m a t t e r is that every one of the basic powers and q u a l i ­ ties w i t h w h i c h m a n was created was given to h i m in order to m a k e it possible for h i m to achieve his ultimate purpose. The two basic powers with w h i c h the human soul is endowed are rea s on and will. m o r a l purpose.

Both have been given to ma n for a

Reason has been given

"for the v e r y purpose

of d i s t i n g u i s h i n g the just from the unjust, evil,

and good from

and the g r e ater good from the lesser g o o d . " 105

The

p o wer of m o r a l discr i m i n a t i o n is thus at the very heart and es s e n c e of reason.

But reason has been given not simply for

the sake of k n o wing right from wrong,

bu t to make it p o s ­

sible for a p e rson i ntelligently and freely to choose the just and reject the unjust. It can be p r o v e d that it [the rational nature] received the power of d i s c e r n ­ m e n t so that it m ight hate and shun evil, and love and choose g o o d . ... For otherwise God w ould have given it the power of di s ­ cernment in vain, since it would dis t i n ­ guish in vain if it did not love and avoid in the light of its discrimination.... Thus it is certain that the rational nature was created to love and choose the supreme good above all other things, not for the sake of another good, but for its own s a k e . 106

Anselm'a Uncfrtnp of J rBPt knt i t a n d tlfe © t i l

5n

Only if a man goes beyond knowing the good to c h o o s i n g it is reason w h olly fulfilled. for choosing the good,

But a power bey o n d rea s o n is n e e d e d

and this,

of course,

is the will,

w h i c h then shares the same overall m oral purpose. This makes it sound as though reas o n is su b o r d i n a t e to will. good,

The m o s t important thing in life is to c h o o s e the and one's rational knowl e d g e is of v a lue only in s o f a r

as it both m a k e s this possible and actua l l y leads into good choices.

But though it m a y sound that way, w h a t we have

seen so far does not entail that reason is su b o r d i n a t e in an absolute sense,

for it m i g h t be that A n s e l m thinks of c h o o s ­

ing the good in this life as m e rely the m e a n s by w h i c h one attains a fuller rational c o n t e mplation of Go d in the n e x t life.

To put the point a little differently,

concede that for Anselm,

we h a v e to

as far as m o r a l i t y is concerned,

reason is subordinate to the will;

however,

m o r a l i t y m a y not

be the final good but only an instrumental good l e ading to an entirely different kind of life and existence.

The u l t i ­

m a t e good— the s u m m u m b o n u m — is, A n s e l m tells us, Go d h i m ­ s e l f . 107

And God m ight be a p p r e h e n d e d and c l ung to b y r e a ­

son just as well as,

if not b e tter than,

by will,

especially

after one has been released from the con d i t i o n s of this earthly, material existence.

If that we r e to be the case,

in the final analysis will w o u l d be subordinate to rea s o n rather than vice versa. Is this in fact the w a y A n s e l m sees the issue?

An a r ­

gument that it is could be m a d e on the grounds that he n e v e r really says in so m a n y words that the ul t i m a t e p u r p o s e of ma n is purely and simply to live justly but he does e x p l i c i t ­ ly state that redeemed man's

final state w i l l be c h a r a c t e r ­

ized by contemplation and sight.

But there are strong c o n ­

siderations against taking this as his belief. place,

In the first

he writes that m a n was c r e ated "to love and cho o s e

the supreme good above all t h i n g s ... f o r its o w n

s a k e . " 108

T a ken literally,

this m eans that loving and c h o o s i n g God

m u s t no t be done to achieve something else

(e.g., the c o n t e m ­

p l a t i o n of G o d ) , for there is no more ultimate goal than d o i n g this.

One could argue,

however,

that choosing the su­

p r eme good for its own sake does not m e a n that the m a n n e r in w h i c h w e cling to it is prima r i l y or ult i m a t e l y t h rough the will.

The c laim

here m a y be only that there is no greater

or m o r e ultimate o b j e c t

to be sought,

w a y in w h i c h it can be s u b j e c t i v e l y the will.

not that the highest

apprehended

is through

It w ould then m a k e sense to say that we choose

and love the supreme good in this life, s u preme good the object of will,

i.e., we m a k e the

in order that in the next

life we m i g h t have the supreme good as the obj e c t of c o n t e m ­ plation. There are problems, A n s e l m ' s view.

however,

w i t h a c cepting this as

One is that it seems at odds w i t h other

claims he m a k e s about the end of man.

There is only one

p l a c e in his later writings w h e r e he uses s p e a k i n g of the final end of man. q u o t e d in w h i c h he says of

"contemplation"

in

It is the one already

"the rational nature" that it

"either is or is going to be b l e s s e d in the cont e m p l a t i o n of G o d . " 109

But there are other places w he r e he uses different

terms to chara c t e r i z e m an's final end. seen,

one of these is

p a n d s to

As we have already

"happiness," w h i c h he sometimes e x ­

"happiness in the enjoyment of G o d . " 110

gests that

"contemplation" and

nate w a y s of saying the same thing.

But does this square

w i t h w h a t A n a e l m says about happiness, the c o n d i t i o n s leading to it?

This s u g ­

"happiness" are simply a l t e r ­

about its nature and

In the passa g e s in w h i c h

"hap­

p i ness" occurs there is no intimation that the conditions of h a p p i n e s s in m an's final state will be any d i f f e r e n t from the c o n d i t i o n s of h a p p i n e s s in this life.

This is s i g n i f i ­

c a n t b e c a u s e A n s e l m p r o v i d e s consi d e r a b l e i n formation on the c o n d i t i o n s of h appiness in this life.

There is in fact only

one n e c e s s a r y c o n d i t i o n for happiness,

n a m e l y justice.

52

A t t a p l m' a f l n c f r i n e n f J r p e d m n a n d II j e U t i l

"Unless it

[the rational nature]

supreme good....

is just,

it c a n n o t love the

The rational nature, then,

was c r e a t e d just,

so that it m i g h t be happy in the enjoy m e n t of the h i g h e s t good,

that is, G o d . " 111

Since justice is the r e c t i t u d e of

the will p reserved for its own sake, tivity of the will,

namely justice,

it follows that an a c ­ is a c o m p o n e n t of h a p p i ­

ness— a component of happiness and not just a m e a n s to it. Happiness thus is not found w h o l l y in an a c t i v i t y of reason; it is not m e r e l y rational contemplation. But is happiness c o n stituted only in part by justice, or is justice the whole of happiness? ponent of happiness,

Is it the only c o m ­

or are there others?

There are strong

indications that A n s e l m thinks of justice as the w h o l e of happiness. says,

Writing of the two affections of the will,

he

"It is clear that...the affection for w i l l i n g justice

is in every way superior and to be preferred. just is just through this will, not be h a p p y . " 112

Everyone who is

and w i t h o u t it a p e r s o n c a n ­

This passage makes it clear that justice

is not ordered to happiness as to someth i n g larger and m o r e desirable than itself. all.

Justice is the m o s t d e s i r a b l e en d of

When one is just one is also happy,

and h a p p i n e s s

is a

feature of justice w hich persists only as long as j u stice i t ­ self is maintained.

Happiness is thus not a state that e n ­

compasses justice as a part of itself. But if happiness consists

simply of justice, w h a t are we

to make of Anselm's c laim that the end of m a n is the e n j o y ­ ment of God?

The answer to this is that k n o w i n g and loving,

and thus enjoying, do.

They are,

God are things that h u man beings o u g h t to

in fact,

their highest o b l i g a t i o n s . 113

God, of course, means obeying his will. in the enjoyment of God consists

Accordingly,

Loving happines

in know i n g what God requires

of us and doing it, w hich is m e r e l y another wa y of saying it consists in preserving the rectitude of the will sake.

for its own

In short, we will be h appy in the e n j o y m e n t of Go d b e ­

cause enjoying God is w h a t justice requires of us.

A n u mber of other points in Anselm's wr i t i n g support this interpretation.

He tells us,

for instance,

that man

was c r e ated h appy and just so that he could keep these q u a l i ­ ties and t h e r e b y

fulfill God's plan for him.

e l a b o r a t e s this point, He teaches,

But when he

the emphasis always falls on justice.

for example,

that m an's original state,

in Adam,

was one in w h i c h he conformed to the purposes of God for him,

and that A d a m could have m a i n t a i n e d h i mself in this

p u r p o s e b y keeping the justice, in w h i c h he had been created.

and thereby the happiness, He did this for a while,

but

then he sinned and fell from his original state of p e r f e c ­ tion.

The first and foremost loss that A d a m suffered when

he sinned was justice. lost h a p p i n e s s . 114

By the same token,

to re s t o re j u s t i c e . 115 angels,

And having lost justice,

Furthermore,

he also

the w o r k of grace is

the reward of the good

who p e r s e v e r e d in keeping the justice w h i c h was

o r i g i n a l l y g iven to them, was not fundamentally a d mission into a state of happiness or c ontemplatio n but rather c o n ­ f i r m a t i o n of their righteousness such that it became i m p o s ­ sible for them ever to lose justice.

They were t r ansferred

from a state in w h i c h it was possible for them not to sin (p o s s e

non

p e cc a r e )

for t h e m to sin

to a state in w hich it was not possible

(non p o s s e p e c c a r e ) . 116

The future reward

of r e d e e m e d men will also be elevation to this state, where they will live as equals w i t h the a n g e l s . 117

It is not i m ­

m e d i a t e l y apparent that these points fit in w i t h the s u p p o ­ sition that m an's u ltim a t e end is contemplation,

but they

c r e a t e no d i f f i c u l t y for the v i e w that his ultim a t e end is justice. We m a y feel justified,

therefore,

in a f firming that

A n s e l m thinks of the state of happiness as identical with the state of justice.

This still leaves unse t t l e d the

q u e s t i o n of how he views the relation of happiness and j u stice on the one hand to conte m p l a t i o n on the other. What l a u n c h e d us into our e x p l o r a t i o n of the relation of happiness

54

AttBjelm’ a B n c f r t n E

nf

J r e s d o m and i k e Wi l l and justice was his apparent i d entifica t i o n of h a p p i n e s s and cont e m plation in the final end of man. c o n t e m plation are in fact identical,

If h a p p i n e s s and

the c o n c l u s i o n s we h a v e

r e ached so far w o u l d force us to the further c o n c l u s i o n that justice and c o n t e mplation are also identical.

But does A n ­

selm in fact equate justice and contemp l a t i o n ? One difficulty that stands in the w a y of m a k i n g such an identification is that justice is an a c t i v i t y of the will w h ile contemplation is an activity of the intellect.

Per­

haps an investigation of Anselm's doctr i n e of the r e s p e c t i v e roles of reason and will in attaining m a n's u l t i m a t e end will shed some light on his under s t a n d i n g of the r e l a t i o n of justice and contemplation. We have seen that reason is an esse n t i a l p a r t of the process of willing justice,

for the will cannot will

unless it knows what it is willing.

justly

But this is c o m p a t i b l e

with three quite different views of the r e l a t i o n of rea s o n and will in determining our choices.

One p o s s i b i l i t y is that

the apprehensions of reason d etermine the acts of the will. A n other is that the choices of the will d e t e r m i n e the a p p r e ­ hensions of reason.

A third p o s s i b i l i t y is that on some o c ­

casions the causal d e t e r mination runs from w i l l to i n t e l l e c t while on other occasions it runs in the o p p o s i t e direction. Anselm's position on this quest i o n is a c o m p l e x one. In speaking of h o w one comes to a k nowl e d g e of God and a life of justice, he states that a m i n imal u n d e r s t a n d i n g is a n e cessary but not a sufficient c o n d i t i o n . 118

Reason,

i n sofar

as it possesses this minimal understanding,

does not d e t e r ­

mine the will to believe and to act justly,

for this u n d e r ­

standing of the truth is quite diffe r e n t from the w i l l to b e ­ lieve it and the will to act on i t . 119

No r does the i n t e l ­

lect determine the will when it acts un j u s t l y and sins. like justice,

has an intellectual aspect; but this intellectual change

results from sin, to God,

then,

Sin,

it is not its cause.

In the process of caning

the activities of the wil l and the i n t e l l e c t

JDt 1 X : tljE B a a u JacuXig are separate,

55 and it is the activity of the will w h ich is

c a u s a l l y deter m i n a t i v e of a human being's standing vis-a-vis Go d and justice. W i t h i n the life of one w h o already believes, tion is more complicated. ment

(will)

the s i t u a ­

Fox., believing is an act of c o m m i t ­

w h i c h leads a person to seek and sometimes to

g a i n d e eper understanding.

So w hile min i m a l u n d e r s tanding

is a n e c e s s a r y c ondition for belief,

belief is a n e cessary

c o n d i t i o n for m o r e complete understanding.

There is thus a

c o m p l e x interplay of reason and will in the life of the C h r i s t i a n b e l i e v e r . 120

But even so,

it is still the will

that is f u n d a mentally determinative of the q u ality of a p e r ­ son's life and act ion and of the depth of his understanding. For a person's u n d e r s t a n d i n g never reaches the point in this life w h e r e it makes

it impossible for the will to defect

from God and justice.

A n s e l m acknowledges that there are

items of knowl e d g e w hich are incompatible w i t h the free e x ­ erc i s e of will in created b e i n g s , 121 but he teaches that p r e c i s e l y b e c ause they are incompatible with free will,

God

sa w to it that m e n and angels do not have t h e m at any time b e f o r e they are confi r m e d in righteousness or sin.

In this

life the will always has the capacity, which it can exercise at any time,

h o w ever advanced one's m ora l standing and u n d e r ­

s t a n d i n g of God are,

to act unjus t l y and c o n t r a r y to the

will of G o d . 12 2 A n s e l m ' s v i e w of and i n d ependent powers

the will and intellect

as separate

may seem to spell trouble for the n o ­

tion that justice and c o n t e mplation are s o mehow identical. Bu t we n e e d to be careful here.

The doctr i n e of the r e l a ­

tion of will and intellect so far spelled out has to do w i t h the situation of the p r e sent life, p r o c e s s of a t t a i n i n g end.

The idea,

as ma n is in the

(or failing to attain)

however,

iden t i c al perta i n s to the w h e r e the u l t i m a t e end

his ultimate

that justice and cont e m p l a t i o n are state of affairs in

the next life,

has (for the redeemed)

been achieved,

55

A n s e l m ' a U n c t r t n e rtf J r p s i n m and tJji? K i l l

and where,

therefore,

than sought.

it is something that is en j o y e d r a t h e r

There is clearly no incon s i s t e n c y in h o l d i n g

that the relation of the will and i ntell e c t in the p r e s e n t life differs from their relation in the next life. it is reasonable to think,

A n d this,

is p r e c i s e l y w h a t A n s e l m believed.

In the next life there will be no p o s s i b i l i t y for the r e ­ dee m e d to act unjustly or to turn away from God.

Intellect

and will will no longer be independent powers w i t h the c a ­ pac i t y to focus on different objects and to div i d e the soul. They will be united in a common devotion to God,

in w h i c h

desire for God will be one with k nowledg e of God.

The

k n owledge of God will be supported by a supreme des i r e for God,

and the desire for God will be sust a i n e d by the k n o w l ­

edge of God's supreme goodness and reality. the ultimate end of man, to gain,

Since this is

that w h i c h every h u m a n b e i n g o u g h t

i.e.,that w h i c h justice requires,

the a t t a i n m e n t of

this end will be both perfect c o n t e mplat i o n and p e r f e c t justice.

The perfection of the intellect in c o n t e m p l a t i o n

will ipso f a c t o be the p e rfection of the will in justice. The disorders and conflicts that trouble the soul in the p r esent life, between intellect and will and b e t w e e n the pursuit of happiness and the pursuit of justice, w h o l l y overcome.

Justice,

will be

happiness, and c o n t e m p l a t i o n will

coincide. As we see more and more clearly w h a t is i n v o l v e d in Anselm's v i e w of the ultimate end of man,

it be c o m e s e v i ­

dent that he considers the purpose of m a n to be the same both in this life and in the next,

thoug h the deg r e e to

w h ich it can be achieved is not the same. ly m a d e for justice and happiness.

M a n was o r i g i n a l ­

This is still his p u r ­

pose after the entry of sin into h uman experience. continues to be his purpose after he passes life.

A n d it

into the n e x t

There is no disti n c t i o n b e t ween a n a tural and a s u p e r ­

n a tural purpose for man.

At w h a t e v e r stage of a person's history,

if justice is to be achieved both free w i l l and grace are

necessary.

The p o s sibility of achieving justice is not

p o s t p o n e d to the next life.

It can be gained now,

though

t h e r e is an important difference between having it no w and h a v i n g it in the next life. life it can be lost again, the n e x t life.

If justice is achieved in this something which cannot hap p e n in

But though there are significant differences

b e t w e e n the life n o w and that hereafter,

there is no d i f f e r ­

ence of ultim a t e purpose. A m a j o r debate that has occurred among A n s e l m scholars conce r n s the question w h e t h e r he should be c l a s sified an int e l l e c t u a l i s t or a voluntarist.

The preceding discussion on

the r e l a tion of will and reason is relevant to that debate. One of the m o s t emphatic champions of the the o r y that A n s e l m is an i n t ellectualist is Filliatre.

He thinks that the b a ­

sic in s p iration for Anselm's thought as a whole is Neoplatonic,

and in discu s s i n g Anselm's theory of the will he

w r i t e s t hat A n s e l m is "haunted too m u c h by his metap h y s i c a l t h e o r y of ideas not to subordinate the will itself to his i n t e l l e c t u a l i s t i c s y s t e m . " 123 s e l m t r ied valiantly,

Filliatre concedes that A n ­

toward the end of his career when he

t u r n e d m a i n l y to theological and m oral problems,

to w o r k i n ­

to his system a theory that gives more scope and importance to w i l l and action.

But he concludes that the effort was

u n s u c c e s s f u l because such a theory is funda m e n t a l l y at odds w i t h the m e t a p h y s i c a l principles d evelope d earlier in A n ­ selm's c a r e e r and n ever r e l i nquished or m o d i f i e d to any im­ p o r t a n t e x t e n t . 124

Other scholars have interpreted h i m to

h o l d that the final end of m a n is achieve d p r e - e m i n e n t l y t h r o u g h the use of the intellect.

Robert Pouchet thinks

that A n s e l m belie v e s that the fundamental gift of grace is faith,

w h i c h m a y g r o w until ultim a t e l y it gives way to d i ­

rect v i s i o n and c o n t e m p l a t i o n . 125

J. Bay a r t holds m u c h the

same v i e w . 126

however,

Other commentators,

t h o u g h t as v o l u n t a r i s t i c . calls h i m a v o l u n t a r i s t . 127

think of Anselm's

Pierre M a n d o n n e t specifically Gilson write s that Anselm's

A n a E i m ‘0 S r t E i r t i t e

52

JrEEdont

and

rtf

tije m i l l

doctrine is strongly m a r k e d w i t h some of the same features as that of Duns Scotus, Fischer,

a leading v o l u n t a r i s t . 128

Joseph

though w r i ting that A n s e l m is a d e e p l y m y s t i c a l

thinker who puts great emphasis upon contemplation,

believes

that A n s e l m values the will m o r e h i ghly than the i n t e l l e c t . 129 One of the problems in this dispute is that the terms " i n t e l l e c t u a l i s t " and m u c h precision.

"voluntarist" are s e l d o m d e f i n e d w i t h

Sometimes they are used to d e s i g n a t e p o s i ­

tions taken on the question w h e t h e r the w i l l or the i n t e l ­ lect is the

"higher"

("altior") f a c u l t y . 130

Some t i m e s the

dispute revolves around the question w h e t h e r the i n t e l l e c t or the will is the power by w h i c h m a n p r i m a r i l y clings to God and fulfills the basic purpose of his e x i s t e n c e . 131 This quest i on is not neces s a r i l y independent of the one just noted,

but neither

is it n e c e s s a r i l y linked.

A t h i r d sense

in w h ich the terms

are sometimes taken is as i n d i c a t i n g a l ­

ternative views as

to which power,

basic cause of the

free a c t . 132

rea s o n or

will,

is

If the terms are under s t o o d in the first sense,

the

then

the question w h e ther A n s e l m is an intel l e c t u a l i s t or v o l u n ­ tarist is anachronistic,

for the questi o n w h e t h e r the will

or the intellect is a higher power did not a r ise as a s e r ­ ious issue until later in the M i ddle Ages. deal w i t h it.

A n s e l m does no t

If the terms are u n d e r s t o o d in the second

sense, we get different answers to w h e t h e r A n s e l m is an i n ­ t e l l e c tualist or a v o l u n t a r i s t as we v i e w d i f f e r e n t p a rts of his doctrine.

If we focus on his u n d e r s t a n d i n g of the final

state of righteousness as one in w h i c h reason and w i l l are both involved and neither has prior i t y over the other,

we

have to say either that he is neither a v o l u n t a r i s t no r an i n t e l l ectualist or that he is both.

If, on the o t h e r hand,

we look at his c laim that the will rather than r e a s o n d e t e r ­ mines

(in cooperation w i t h grace)

w h e t h e r we act justly and

enter the final state of righteousness, he is a voluntarist.

we are forced to say

the terms are under s t o o d in the third sense, we a r ­ rive at an even m o r e c o m plex result than the one just noted, and for some of the same reasons.

Does A n s e l m regard reason

or will as the basic cause of the free act? have to m a k e distinctions, acts.

Once again, we

this time among types of free

A n s e l m holds that any just act, w h e t h e r it be one in

w h i c h justice is restored to a will w h i c h has lost it or one in w h i c h justice is kept in a will which possesses it, is p e r f o r m e d freely.

So the disti n c t i o n above,

be t w e e n just

acts p e r f o r m e d in the final state of righteousness and those p e r f o r m e d in this life,

applies here also.

W i t h respect to

the former we have to say again that A n s e l m is either both an i n t e l l e c t u a l i s t and a v o l u n t a r i s t or neither, while with re s p e c t to the latter he is a voluntarist. a f u rther complication,

But n o w we have

for A n s e l m teaches that unjust acts

are also p e r f o r m e d freely.

So we have to consider w h ether

he b e l i e v e s that the cause of these acts is the intellect or the will.

This gets into issues we have not examined yet,

bu t a b r i e f comment can be m a d e in antic i p a t i o n of mater i a l that w i l l be devel o p e d in the next chapter.

There can be

little d oubt that A n s e l m regards the will as the basic d e ­ t e r m i n i n g cause of unjust acts.

This is c e r t a i n l y the case

w i t h the u n j u s t act of a man w h o has theretofore been just. It is also the case with an unjust man who, just,

c o nti n u e s to act unjustly.

b e cause he is u n ­

To be sure,

this m a n's

r e a s o n is unable to grasp the truth with any cl a r i t y and depth,

but this is a result of his disord e r e d will,

not its

cause. A simple class i f i c a t i o n of A n s e l m as an intellectualist or v o l u n t a r i s t is thus inadequate and misleading.

It glosses

over a m b iguities in the terms themselves and overlooks tleties and c o m p lexities in his thought.

su b ­

Scho l a r l y d i s c u s ­

sion c o u ld be m e a s u r a b l y improved by avoi d i n g disputes over such c l a s s i f i c a t i o n s and by conce n t r a t i n g on the p r ecise c o n ­ tours of a thinker's thought.

(CHAJISEK SHilEE

aHE ATJE C O O N S

®J SHE J O £ £

As we saw in the previous chapter, t h a t the will has its basic nature, t u d in e s ,

and its diverse uses.

A n s e l m believes

its fundamental a p t i -

" A f f e c t i o n e s " is the name

w h i c h he gives to the basic a p t i t u d i n e s of the w i l l - i n s t r u ­ ment.

Basically,

will.1

an affection is an innate dispos i t i o n to

The w i l l - i n s t r u m e n t has two such basic affections:

the a f f e c t i o n for justice

(a f f e c t i o ad j ustit i a m )

a f f e c t i o n for what is useful or beneficial

(a f f e c t i o ad

c o m m o d u m , sometimes also referred to as a f f e c t i o t a t e m ) .2

and the

ad

commodi-

Every t h i n g that we will falls wi t h o u t e x ception

u n d e r one or both of these two drives:

it is either s o m e ­

thing just or something we will for our own benefit.

"The

will as instrument wills nothing except rectitude or what is beneficial.

W h a t e v e r else it wills,

of one of t h e s e . " 3

Thus,

it wills for the sake

the a ffection by w h i c h we will

some t h i n g gives that act of will its basic c h aracter and its m o tivation.

Because of this,

the affections are the b a ­

sis upon w h i c h a m a n ' s choices are found to be dese r v i n g of p r a i s e or of blame and on which, choices)

therefore,

they

(the

are d e t e r m i n e d as good or e v i l . 4

B e c ause of the importance of the af f e ctions as the b a ­ sis of the m o r a l q u a lity of a m a n ' s choices and because of t h e i r role in the opera t i o n of the will, A n s e l m ' s account of t h e m is the critical center of his doctrine of the will,

and

this m a k e s them important also for his doctrine of freedom.

EX

E2

flrtctrtttE n f J r E E d n m and f l j E J31 1 X

It is important,

therefore,

possi b ly can about them.

that we get just as c l ear as we

It is not easy to do this,

for A n s e l m really says rather little about them, says is at times quite cryptic.

however,

and what he

The only s y s t ematic t r e a t ­

ment is found in DCD,

III, xi-xiii.

other passages which,

though not s p e c if i c a l l y n a m i n g the a f ­

fections,

shed light upon them.

There are s c a t t e r e d

An e s p e c i a l l y si g n i f i c a n t

example of such a passage is DCD,

XII-XIV.

Though w h a t A n ­

selm says regarding the affections is not q u a n t i t a t i v e l y great,

nevertheless it is loaded w i t h s i g n i f i c a n c e and r e ­

pays careful study.

In our examination of the affections,

we will concentrate on the passages

from DC and DCD and d r a w

upon the scattered other passages w here they p r ove helpful.

I. A.

THE NATURE OF THE AFF E C T I O N S As A p t i t u d i n e s .

One of the striking things a b o

Anselm's account of the affections is that one of the w o r d s he uses in describing w h a t they are is w o r d he uses of the will-instrument.

"aptitudo,"

the same

W e saw e a r l i e r that

the w i l l-instrument is basic a l l y an a p t i t u d o

for willing.

But each of the affections is also an a p t i t u d o for willing. This m ight lead us to ask what the diff e r e n c e s b e t w e e n them are.

An important difference is that the w i l l - i n s t r u m e n t is

an a p t i t u d o of the soul, whereas the af f e ctions are a p t i t u ­ d i n es not of the soul but of the will.

It is not immediately clear, of distinction m akes sense.

instance,

that this k i n d

We will recall that a p t i t u d o

of w hich the a p t i t u d o

faciendum,

however,

ad

volendum

is the definition for power

ad

is a p a r t i c u l a r

(p o t e s t a s ) .

the instrument of willing is d e f ined as an a p t i t u d o

But if ad

v o l e n d u m , and if its affections are also th o u g h t of as aptitudines

ad

volendum,

it seems that the aff e c t i o n s are

the power of a power— an extremely odd if no t u n i n t e l l i g i b l e notion.5

This diffi c u l t y can be avoided,

however,

if we

53

Slje M f e c t t n t t a n f tljB m i l l

think of the affections as representing not powers w h ich are d i s t i n c t and separate from the general power of w i lling w h i c h c o n stitutes the instrument,

but as specifications of

t h a t g e neral power w hich delimit it and m a k e it more d e t e r ­ minate.

In other words,

the fact that the instrument of

w i l l i n g has two basic affections means that it is not an i n ­ d i s c r i m i n a t e power of w i l l i n g just anything,

but it is a d e ­

t e r m i n a t e power w hich can will in only two b r oad sorts of ways.

The basic a p t i t u d o ad v o l e n d u m

aptitudo

is really then an

either ad v o l e n d u m j u s t i t i a m or ad v o l e n d u m c o m m o -

d u m — n o t h i n g more.

The p o s s e s s i o n of affections is ab s o lutely essential to the will-instrument,

for one could not be said to have

the a b i l i t y of w i l ling if he did not have the ability to w i l l something.

The affections specify the sorts of things

w h i c h can be the object of willing. B. fections,

As D i s p ositions to W i l l . however,

There is more to the a

than the m e r e specification of the types

of ob j e cts that the instrument can will.

The fact that the

i n s t r u m ent has the two affections means that w h e n e v e r we will we choose one or both of these two things,

but in A n ­

selm's t h o ught it also means that there is an inherent t e n ­ d e n c y in the instrument to will these things.

In fact,

t e n d e n c y is the m o s t important aspect of an affection.

this The

c h a r a c t e r of the affections as tendencies to action comes t h r o u g h m o s t clearly in Anselm's d e s crip t i o n of an affection as

"that by w hich the instrument is so dispo s e d to will

s o m e t h i n g even when a person is not thinking of it, that w h e n this thing comes to mind,

he wills

ly or for its own p r oper t i m e . " 6 in h y p o t h e t i c a l terms,

it either i m m e d i a t e ­

B y des c r i b i n g an affection

A n s e l m is charact e r i z i n g it in the

same w a y that c o n t e m p o r a r y philosophers chara c t e r i z e a d i s ­ position.

Both are tendencies to act,

de s c r i b a b l e in terms

of h o w one w o u l d act i f the appropriate c i r c u m stances arose. There is a difference,

however.

A dispo s i t i o n ma y be either

E4

Att0el m*0 D o c t r i n e o f J r t B d n m and tljp H i l l

an innate or an acquired tendency to act. are innate tendencies tional wills

in the will.

The aff e c t i o n s

They b e l o n g to all r a ­

(though not always in the same sense)

as long

as they continue to exist. Dispositions have a law-like character. tion]

"[A d i s p o s i ­

is to psych o l o g y what a law is to physical s c i e n c e . . . . " 7

Physical laws,

like dispositions, can also be stated in

hypothetical propositions.

The law,

for instance,

that

w a t e r freezes at 3 2 °F can be e xpressed by saying that if the temperature falls to 3 2 °F then w ater will freeze. admits of no exception. found,

S u c h law

If a v e r i f i e d n e g a t i v e i n s t a n c e is

then the law is m o d i f i e d and to that e x t e n t o v e r ­

thrown,

but if it is a law,

there is no e x c e p t i o n to it.

This p r operty of u n e x c e p t i o n a b i l i t y is also a feature of an affection.8

If a person has an a ffecti o n for something,

then given the requisite conditions, affections,

then,

he will w i l l it.

The

are principles w hich i n troduce a lawlike

order into the volun t a r y acts of rational beings. This similarity of the affections to p h y s i c a l laws raises the question of w h e t h e r A n s e l m is a determinist. the affections imply determinism? like regularity,

Do

If they op e r a t e w i t h l a w ­

it seems they w ould leave no r o o m for a

person to exercise h i s .own individual in fluence over the choices he makes.

A n s e l m himself holds that in the case of

any c r eated being,

what follows from the n a t u r e of that b e ­

ing does not occur of that being's own a c c o r d . 9 about n a t u r a l i t e r s p o n t e . 10

is always contrary to w h a t comes a b out

The affections are part of the na t u r a l e q u i p m e n t

of human beings;

it is not w i thin a m an' s p o wer to h a v e them

or not to have them. wills,

W h a t comes

Thus if

they

d eter m i n e w h a t a m a n

it is not w i thin his own p ower to dete r m i n e w h a t he

wills. A solution to this p r o blem depends u p o n d i s t i n g u i s h i n g kinds of dispositions.

Dispositions can be c l a s s i f i e d a c ­

cording to genus and species.

"Some d i s p o s i t i o n a l w o rds are

55

Slje A f f e c t i o n s of

tlje m i l l

h i g h l y generic and determinable, specific or d e t e r m i n a t e . " 11 tions are

"abilities,

while others are hig h l y

Generic or d e t e rminable d i s p o s i ­

tendencies or pronenesses to do, not

things of one unique kind, but things of lots of d i fferent k i n d s , " 12 w h e reas a c o mpletely determinate d i sposition would be a t e ndency to do something of one unique kind.

The o b ­

vious way to solve the present p r o blem is to hold that the aff e c t i o ns are dispositions of a determinable kind,

and that

t h e r e f o r e there are m a n y different determ i n a t e acts w h ich can be w i l l e d in accordance w i t h each of them.

Thus, while

the will always by natural neces s i t y wills in accordance w i t h the affections,

nevertheless it has it wit h i n its power

to dec i de w h i c h of the large number of determ i n a t e acts open to it w i t h i n these limits it will perform. This m a y be an obvious solution to the problem,

but it

is not i mmed i a t e l y clear from what A n s e l m says in explaining the a f f ections that this solution is open to him,

for it is

n o t u n a m b i g u o u s l y clear that he thinks of the affections as h i g h l y d e t e rminable dispositions.

On the one hand he states

that w h e n e v e r we will anything we will it f o r the s a k e of e i t h e r justice or the beneficial.

This suggests that the

aff e c t i o ns are dispositions to will w i t h certain general ends in mind.

If they are,

there is no p r o b l e m w i t h vi e w i n g

t h e m as deter m i n a b l e dispositions,

for there are m a n y d i f f e r ­

en t a c tions w h i c h can serve justice and the beneficial as ends.

On the o ther hand,

in illustrating what it m e ans to

w i l l in a c cordance w i t h the affections, A n s e l m gives specific e x a m p l e s w h i c h seem to indicate that they are quite d e t e r m i ­ n a t e dispositions.

In illustrating what it m e ans to will in

a c c o r d a n ce w i t h the affection ad c o m m o d i t a t e m he cites the e x ample of w i l l i n g sleep.

"The instrument of wi l l i n g is so

d i s p o s e d to will sleep that when it comes to mind,

even if

the p e r s o n does not reflect upon it, he wills it for its own p r o p e r t i m e . " 13

There is no intimation here that sleep is

w i l l e d for anyth i n g but its own sake,

or that there are other

EE

Artm?l m *0 C n c f H t t P o f J r E E d a m attd t l j s 33t l l

m e ans for achieving w h a t e v e r it m i g h t be that we w a n t to achieve through sleep.

"Never is the ins t r u m e n t of w i l l i n g

d i s p o s e d ... to will never to s l e e p . " 11*

W h a t are we to m a k e

of this apparent d i s crepancy in Ansel m ' s a c c o u n t of the a f ­ fections? The answer to this question can be found by l o o k i n g at the ultimate purpose of the affections be said l a t e r ) .

(of w h i c h m o r e will

Their purpose is to m a k e p o s s i b l e the

a c hievement of man's ultimate end, which, combines justice and happiness.

as we have seen,

The a ff e c t i o n for justice

is obvi ously what enables the w i l l - i n s t r u m e n t to w i l l j u s ­ tice.

And the affection for the benefic i a l e n ables it to

will happiness.

Justice and happiness are c l e a r l y u l t i m a t e

ends of human willing, va r i e t y of ways. the

affections,

both of w h i c h can be a c h i e v e d in a

This doctrine of the ultim a t e p u r p o s e of then, makes it clear that the a f f e c t i o n s

are determinable dispositions that may u n d e r d i f f e r e n t c i r ­ cumstances take different determinate forms. ad c o m m o d u m is the disposition

piness,

The a f f e c t i o n

to will the ge n e r a l en d h a p ­

to which there is a great v a r i e t y of p o s s i b l e means.

The affection for justice is also a h i gh l y d e t e r m i n a b l e d i s ­ position,

not in the sense that in any given s i t u a t i o n t h ere

are m a n y different choices w h i c h all m i g h t be right bu t in the sense that the specific act w h i c h justice requi r e s v a r i e s from situation to situation,

with the c o n s e q u e n c e that there

are m a n y different acts w hich can be done in k e e p i n g w i t h justice. But if happiness and justice are d e t e r m i n a b l e rat h e r than d e terminate dispositions,

we need to ask w h y A n s e l m so

often calls the affection for happiness the a f f e c t i o n ad c o m m od um ,

i.e., the affection for the ben e f i c i a l thing,

wh y he illustrates it w i t h his example of sleep.

and

For b o t h

the name and the example suggest a m u c h m o r e d e t e r m i n a t e type of disposition.

Part of the reason is found in his

v i e w that happiness is not something that can be w i l l e d and

57

(i-Ilje A f f e c t i o n s o f t t j e OTiXX p o s s e s s e d direc t l y in and of itself alone but is something

w h i c h can be w i l l e d and posse s s e d only through various means. B y common consent, happiness is understood to include a sufficient degree of beneficial things, w i t h o u t there being any w a n t for more. A n d this is true whethe r one is think i n g of the happiness of the angels or of the h appiness of A d a m in P a r a d i s e . 15 W i l l i n g h appiness thus m e a n s w i l l i n g the things that promote happiness.

The things w hich promote happiness are

"commoda."

So the affection for happiness includes an affection for b e n e f i c i a l things. This explains w h y A n s e l m so often calls the d i sposition to will h appiness the a f f e c t i o ad c o m m o d u m , but we need s o m e ­ t h ing further to explain the example of sleep in illustrating the a f f e c t i o

ad c om m o d a .

For his presen t a t i o n of the example

i n d i c a t e d that sleep is w i l l e d just as inexorably as h a p p i ­ ness itself.

To say that willing happiness n e c e s s a r i l y i n ­

v o l v e s w i l l i n g beneficial things does not entail that w i lling h a p p i n e s s n e c e s s a r i l y involves the willi n g of some one p a r ­ t i c u l a r b e n e f i c i a l thing.

Nonetheless,

if there are p a r t i c u ­

lar b e n e f i c i a l things w hich are normally nece s s a r y for h a p p i ­ ness,

t hen the affection for happiness would lead a rational

b e ing to will it.

Sleep is o bviously n e c e s s a r y for happiness,

since it is n e c e s s a r y for good health.

Because the c o n n e c ­

tion b e t ween end and means here is so strong and so obvious, a p e r s o n does not have to stop and delib e r a t e about wh e t h e r he w a nts to sleep

(at the appropriate t i m e ) , but rather wills

it a u t o m a t i c a l l y as soon as he happens to think about it, and w i l l s it w i t h the same i n e v i tability and law-like regularity as that w i t h w h i c h he wills happiness. There are, t e r m i n e d to will.

then,

things w h i c h a rational being is d e ­

They include the two general ends i n d i ­

c a t e d in the a f fections and w h a t e v e r else one belie v e s is n e c e s s a r y to the achie v e m e n t of those ends.

The only e x c e p ­

tions to this o ccur in cases of moral conflict,

in w h i c h it

is p o s s i b l e for the will to avoid w i l l i n g even those things

EB

Attselm’ a flncfrtn e a f J r p e d n m and fljp JD tll

w h ich are n ecessary ends.

to one or other

of the

two

ge n e r a l

For these are circumstances w h e r e one is forced to

choose between the affections themselves. for example,

In the situation,

in w hich a person is forced e i t h e r to tell a

lie or to lose his life,

he m a y choose eit h e r the c o m m o d u m —

self-preservation,

survival— or the justice of t e l l i n g

the truth.

He is forced to choose b e t w e e n alternatives,

both of which, conflict,

life,

in circumstances o ther than those of m o r a l

he would will necessarily.

The situation of

moral conflict,

then,

is an

area

w h ere

the will is able to exercise its own power. W h e n

there

is a fundamental conflict b e t w e e n the affections,

will is not d e termined them.

to will a ccordin g to eit h e r

the

one of

It m a y choose in favor of the just act or in favor of

a c o m m o d u m which conflicts with justice.

It is e n t i r e l y up

to the will. It m ight be useful at this point to summ a r i z e our f i n d ­ ings on the question of w h e t h e r and to w h a t ext e n t the will is determined.

The only w i l ling w h i c h is always d e t e r m i n e d

is the willing of the m o s t general ends of human conduct, justice and happiness.

In some situations,

are m e ans to these ends are also determined, not det ermined in every situation. if he sins,

things w h i c h but they are

Since one loses justice

even w i l l i n g justice is not always and i n v a r i ­

ably n e cessary for the will.

The only kind of willing,

therefore, w h i c h is w h olly inescapable is w i l l i n g happiness. Correspondingly,

the areas in w h i c h the will has the p o wer

to determine its own course are

(1) choo s i n g the m e a n s

for

a c hieving the basic ends given in the aff e c t i o n s in those cases where the p a rticular means chosen are not a b s o lutely necessary to the end but where that)

(believed)

(it is b e l i e v e d

the end could be achieved by a dif f e r e n t means,

and

(2) choosing in the situations of m o r a l c o n f l i c t b e t w e e n justice and particular c o m m o d a w h i c h con f l i c t w i t h it.

By

far the most important of these areas in A n s e l m ' s m i n d is,

SIj b A f f e c t i o n s a f tlje IBtH

of course,

gg

the latter.

the a f f e c t i o n s — indeed,

V i r t u a l l y all that he writes about about the will in ge n e r a l — is w r i t ­

ten w i t h a v i e w to explaining choice in the moral situation. He

says a l most nothing about choice of the other kind. A

few of Anselm's commentators have wr i t t e n that he

re­

gards the will as a faculty of desire or c o n c u p i s c e n c e . 16 He states, be

"What I am saying about the will can just as well

said about desire and concupiscence,

d e s i r e and c o n c u p i s c e n c e . " 17

since the will is

This statement could no t refer

to the will either as instrument or as use, so it o b viously refers to the affections.

The affections,

then,

are desires

for t h e ir r e spective general e n d s 18 as well as dispositions to will those ends. same,

Dispositions and desires are not the

though a dispo s i t i o n m a y be ground e d in a desire.

B o t h d i s p ositions and desires, action,

however,

are tendencies to

and b o t h will result in the actions to w h i c h they

t e n d unless there are stronger conflicti n g desires or d i s ­ p o s i t i o n s or other c o u n t e rvailing forces. N o w that we have seen the general c h aracter of the a f ­ fections,

let us turn to an investigation of their function

and purpose.

II.

G E N ERAL FUNCT I O N AND PURPOSE

In expla i n i n g the general function and purpose of the affections,

we will

first look at their immediate function

in the life of the soul and then consider their ultimate purpose. A.

Immediate F u n c t i o n .

In dis c u s s i n g the s e l f - m o v e ­

m e n t of the w i l l - i n s t r u m e n t in the previous chapter,

we

n o t e d that there is a p r o b l e m w i t h the notion of s e l f - m o v e ­ m e n t in the will.

How can the will,

a c t i n g , m o v e itself to act? acting. act?

if it is ori g i n a l l y not

Before the will acts it is not

B u t if it is not acting,

h o w can it m o v e itself to

It w o u l d seem that the only way in w h i c h something

A n s e l m '0 D o c t r i n e nf J r e e d n m and ilje ID ill

that is not acting can be b r o u g h t into action is t h r o u g h something else acting upon it.

A n s e l m solves this p r o b l e m

w i t h his doctrine of the affections,

for the i m m e d i a t e f u n c ­

tion of the affections is to be the basic p r i n c i p l e of m o v e ­ m e n t or activity in the will. One place w here A n s e l m develops this n o t i o n is in DCD, in a passage in w h i c h teacher and student discuss va r i o u s elements in an act of will.

The inquiry is

order to discover w h i c h elements

undertaken

are in the

creature and which are not.

The reason for

this issue is to see w h e ther

God is r e s p o n s i b l e for

sin or man is.

in

c o ntrol of the l o oking into man's

The discussion is condu c t e d w i t h r e f e r e n c e

to Satan, but since the will of the angels is no t e s s e n t i a l ­ ly d i fferent from the will of men, also to humans.

the d i s c u s s i o n ap p l i e s

The first question the te a c h e r raises is

the following. Let us suppose that God create d Satan step by step, and not all at once; and that God w i shed to make him happy. And let us s u p ­ pose that Satan had been c r e at e d up to the point of b eing suited to have a will, but without yet h a ving w i lled a n y t h i n g . ... D o you suppose that Satan, in this condition, could will anything through hi m s e l f ?l 9 Two points should be noted about this question.

One is that

we are to suppose that Satan has only the ins t r u m e n t of willing;

he does not yet have the affections,

not yet made any actual volitions.

and he has

The o t h e r is that we

are to suppose that God has created Satan w i t h the p u r p o s e that he should be happy.

N o t hing is said here a b out the

other part of the ultimate end of rational creatures, tice.

The question,

then,

Satan w ould by himself

jus­

is w h e ther un der these c o n d i t i o n s

(per se)

be able to p e r f o r m any act

of will,

or do something,

that would con t r i b u t e to his h a p ­

piness.

A n s e l m explains that anything a per s o n can do w i t h

the powers he has and without outside he l p is s o m e t h i n g he can do p e r se.

Slje A f f e c f i n t t a nf fljB m i l l The student replies that if Satan had the instrument of w i l l i n g and lacked only the actual use thereof, was able to will per se.

then he

The teacher points out that the

p r o b l e m is one of how the will moves itself from a state of n o n - w i l l i n g to willing, m o v e ? " 20

and asks pointedly,

"Does it will to

The student sees that if he says that the will is

m o v e d from without,

he w ould have to admit that the will is

not m o v e d by its own power.

He suggests,

therefore,

that

the first m o v e m e n t of the will m ight be one w h i c h occurs i n s t i n c t i v e l y as a reaction to some outside stimulus.

"A

per s o n m i g h t suddenly b link when he sees a b l o w coming, m i g h t be forced by some pain or other, p r e v i o u s l y was not willing.

or

to will something he

But I don't k n o w w h e t h e r in

such a case he first wills to move to this w i l l i n g . " 21

The

te a c h e r responds that no one reacts inst i n c t i v e l y to e x t e r ­ nal stimuli unless there is some general tende n c y within the w i l l to act that way in the presence of such stimuli. No one is forced by fear or a feeling of pain ( i n c o m m o d i ) , nor attracte d b y love of any pleasure ( c o m m o d i ) , to will any parti c u l a r thing, unless he first has the natural inclination (v o l u n t a t e m ) to avoid pain and to enjoy pleasure. By this natural inclination he moves himself to o ther w i l l i n g s . 22 B e f o r e there can be any p a rticular act of will, be an i n c lination w i t h i n the will. also a kind of willing,

there has to

But this inclination is

and so it is ruled out by the h y ­

pothe s i s on w h i c h the w hole d i scussion is predicated. the final concl u s i o n on this question is that, that Satan,

"It turns out

at the time w h e n he was created w i t h a capac i t y

for h a v i n g a will, have h a d his

but had not yet w i lled anything,

first w i l ling from himself"

(n a t u r a l i s

voluntas)

the a f f e c t i o n for happiness.

couldn't

(i.e., per s e ) . 23

Though A n s e l m does not expli c i t l y say so, the i n c l ination"

Hence,

"natural

spoken of here is clearly

B o t h the inclin a t i o n and the

a f f e c t i o n are direc t e d toward h appiness and c o m m o d a .

And

An j B P Xm' a U n r f r t n e n f T r e p d n m a n d l l j e 3Dt XX

72

b o t h are principles which,

just as m u c h as the instrument,

engage in willing. What this question about Satan's will reveals is that the instrument of w i l ling alone does not have the p o w e r to fulfill its own proper and d i s tinctive function. it needs the affections. tions,

then,

To do this

The basic function of the a f f e c ­

is to m a k e it possible for the i n s t r u m e n t to

fulfill its

function.

will necessarily.

The affections

thus b e l o n g to the

They do not m e r e l y

p r o v i d e the i n s t r u m e n t

an enabling condition for the exercise of a p o wer that it already has.

For it has no power to will unless it has the

affections.

Rather,

the affections give the i n s t r u m e n t a

power w hich it does not and cannot have w i t h o u t them.

Since

the function of a thing is essential to its v e r y nature, w i thout the

affections the instrument

strument at

all,

is no t a g e n u i n e i n ­

i.e., not a real capaci t y or p o w e r for

willing. This,

however,

does not mean that the i n s t r u m e n t is

reduced to its affections, tween them.

o b l i terating any d i s t i n c t i o n b e ­

Though the power w h i c h cons t i t u t e s the i n s t r u ­

ment is activated by the affections and is abs e n t w i t h o u t them,

still the power of the instrument,

n a m e l y the p o w e r to

make d e terminate choices in accordance with the affections, is something quite different from the na tural t e n d e n c i e s to seek certain goals that constitute the affections. The need of the instrument for the aff e c t i o n s is a r e ­ ciprocal one.

As the instrument cannot be itself or fulfill

its proper function w i t h o u t the affections,

so the a f f e c t i o n s

cannot be effective in the actual life and choices of a p e r ­ son unless they belong to an instrument that can cho o s e p a r ­ ticular acts to fulfill the general ends to w h i c h the a f f e c ­ tions are directed. fective,

Moreover,

for the aff e c t i o n s to be e f ­

not only must there be an instr u m e n t w h i c h is able

to m a k e those choices,

there must be actual c h oices made.

Thus the three elements of the will w h i c h A n s e l m i d e n t i f i e s __

Slje Mfi?e 1 tntta nf

ilje

73

IDt XX

the instrument,

the affections and the us e — m u t u a l l y imply

one other. It is not yet clear,

however,

that the pr o b l e m c o n ­

ce r n i n g the s elf-movement of the will has been solved.

The

p r o b l e m is h o w the will can bring about its own first m o v e ­ ment,

and the answer that we have found is that the first

m o v e m e n t of the will is given to it in the affections.

But

the a f f ections are part of the natural endowment of the will; t h e y have been b e s t o w e d upon it by God. of the will,

then,

bri n g s about.

The first m o v e m e n t

is not something that the will itself

It seems mistaken,

therefore,

to think of

this first m o v e m e n t as a case of s e l f - m o v e m e n t . W e can resolve this diffi c u l t y by dis t i n g u i s h i n g types of m o v e m e n t in the will. a t e n d e n c y or an act.

M o v e m e n t in the will m a y be either

W h e n A n s e l m thinks of the affections

as the first m o v e m e n t s of the will, of tendencies.

he is clearly thinking

The v i e w that the basic tendencies of the

will are given to it by God is quite compatible w i t h the c l a i m that the first act of the will is something it p e r ­ forms on its own.

Anselm's question w h e t h e r Satan could

will a n ything p e r se if he had been given the instrument of the will w i t h o u t the affections had to do with acts of will, w i t h volitions.

And by acting p e r se he m e ans acting solely

t h r o u g h the use of one's own powers, o u t s i d e o n e s e l f . 21* se

una i d e d by anyth i n g

His answer is that Satan could act p e r

so long as he had all the essential features of the will,

i n c l u d i n g affections. give a will to himself.

Obviously,

a finite creature cannot

But once endowed w i t h will,

he has

all t h a t is n e e d e d to p e r f o r m volitions on his own power. The will,

then,

is a self-moving principle in the sense that

it has the power to act p e r se. then,

pertains to acts,

Self-movement in the will,

not basic tendencies or affections.

We m u s t not read more into Anselm' s c l a i m than is w a r ­ ranted.

One of the m ajor points he is m a k i n g w h e n he asserts

the s e l f - m o v e m e n t of the will is that there is a basic con-

74

At t BEl m’ a D n c t r i n e a f J r s p d n m a nd t l j e H t i l

trast b e t ween the will and other instruments, senses and reason or the hands and feet. are not self-moving,

for their p ower has to be a c t i v a t e d by

a power external to themselves, case w i th the will.

like the

These in s t r u m e n t s

the will.

Such is not the

By v i rtue of its affections,

the will

is endowed in its v e r y nature w i t h its own a c t i v a t i n g p r i n ­ ciple.

The objection stated earlier,

then,

is correct.

It

is a mi stake to think of the m o v e m e n t of the a f f e c t i o n s as a

case of self-movement in the will.

The o b j e c t i o n is w r o n g

only insofar as it is taken as a point ag a i n s t Anselm,

for

Anselm's doctrine is that the first a c t of the will is s e l f ­ moved. A final aspect of the immediate function of the a f f e c ­ tions should be n oted before w e move on to an e x a m i n a t i o n of their ultimate purpose.

As the basic d i s p o s i t i o n s of the

will they establish the ultimate purpose s or goals of all human action.

D ifferent people,

of course,

m a n y different ways of seeking these goals,

have a great but all these

ways are directed toward the same general ends,

w h i c h are

those e stablished by God as the ultim a t e ends of h u man life. This aspect of the affections

is implied in t h e i r function

as the basic dispositions of the will.

For an a f f e c t i o n is

both a d e s i r e for something and a desire f or s o m e t h i n g . desires or dispositions the affections are alike. differences,

As

T h eir

which as we shall see are considerable,

stem

from the different ends toward w h i c h they are directed. B.

Ultimate P u r p o s e .

The u l t i m a t e p u r p o s e of the a

fections is to play an essential role in the a t t a i n m e n t of the ultimate purpose of man.

As we have just seen,

their

immediate function is to provide the w i l l - i n s t r u m e n t w i t h the impetus that gives it the power to p e r f o r m acts of will. But in doing this their ultimate purpose is also fulfilled, for the impetus they provide is toward the two u l t i m a t e ends of human life,

happiness and j u s t i c e . 25

Human beings,

A n s e l m teaches,

were c r e a t e d not o n l y

Slje A f f p c t t a n a of tljB JUt IX

Z5

w i t h the basic desire for happiness and justice but in full p o s s e s s i o n of these goods. So then, God created m a n happy and in n e e d of nothing. Rational nature r e ­ c e i v e d at once the will for happiness, and happiness; the will for justice (i.e., it recei v e d rectitude, w h i c h is j u s t i c e ) ; and free choice, w i t h o u t w h i c h it could not keep j u s t i c e . 26 God c r e a t e d man perfect, ing his purpose.

lacking nothing needed for a c h i e v ­

M an's task was simply to use his powers

to m a i n t a i n h i m self in the state of perfection. It is w orth emphasizing that justice was a part of the origi n a l nature of man,

for there have been scholars who

have

w r i t t e n that A n s e l m

gift

g iven b y God to m a n as something extra added to

nature.

viewed justice as a supernatural

E. R. Fairweather,

w o r k s as De c a su

for example,

states,

and De c o n c o r d i a ,

diaboli

d o gma are so c l o sely interwoven,

his

"In such

w h ere ethics and

it is made clear that A n ­

selm sees r e c t i t u d o as a supernatural gift of God,

separable

from the essence of m a n . " 27 N o w A n s e l m does speak in places as though justice were s o m e t h i ng added to the will after the creation of h u man n a ­ ture ha d b e e n c o m p l e t e d . 28 not a natural possession,

He also asserts,

"Justice is

but in the b eg i n n i n g it was s o m e ­

t h i n g separable in both the angels in hea v e n and m a n in p a r a d i s e . " 29

Furthermore,

one could argue that the fact

that j u stice is not o n l y separable from the will but is in fact s e parated from it in a great m a n y men, is not natural to man,

shows that it

for w h a t is truly natural to ma n c a n ­

not be lost w i t h o u t destr o y i n g m an's nature. N evertheless,

there are very strong reasons for r e ­

jecting F a i r w e a t h e r 's interpretation.

In the first place,

t h e r e are passa g e s in Ansel m ' s writings w h i c h p r i m a go c o n t r a r y to those just cited. three p arag r a p h s back. m a r k that

facie

I have already quo t e d one

To this one could add Ansel m ' s r e ­

"To have had justice and to owe justice are

75

Ane e Xt t t ' a U n r f r t n p n f J r e e t k n m a n d f l j p 3HtXX

evidence of a natural d i g n i t y . " 30

Moreover,

in

dcd

, XVI,

where A n selm talks as if justice were s o mething added on to an otherwise complete will,

he is still m a k i n g the same k i n d

of supposition that we saw h i m m a k i n g in

dcd

, XII,

w h e r e he

was discussing the problem of the first m o v e m e n t of the will. That is, he is supposing,

in an effort to get c l ear on the

role of various elements in the will, ated in stages.

His talk,

added onto the will, making,

then,

that the will was c r e ­

of justice as some t h i n g

is a result of the s u p p o s it i o n he is

not an indication that the will rea l l y r e c e i v e d j u s ­

tice some time after it was created. As for the argument that justice cannot be n a t u r a l to man because he does not always possess it,

that a r g u m e n t is

b a s e d on a doctrine of natural essences that is q u ite d i f f e r ­ ent from Anselm's.

As we have seen,

A n s e l m d e fines the e s ­

sential nature of a thing in terms of w h a t it o u ght to be, no t in terms of the attributes w h i c h it always possesses. Man was created to be just.

The fact that he s o metimes

fails to achieve this purpose m akes no d i f f e r e n c e to w h a t he ought to be. justice,

If at some m o m e n t a per s o n does no t p o s s e s s

his essential nature is not affected,

standing.

He becomes unjust,

only his m o r a l

he does not b e c o m e unhuman.

But what are we to make of Anselm ' s stat e m e n t that j u s ­ tice is not a natural possession?

The ans w e r to this q u e s ­

tion is found in the way he completes the sentence in w h i c h he makes the statement: Justice is not a natural possession, but in the b eginning it was something separable in both the angels in heaven and m a n in paradise; and even now in this life it is separable not by necessity but by the pro p e r willing of those who possess it. "Not natural" here is being used synonymously w i t h able." using

But,

it m ight be objected,

"natural" in the usual

"separ­

this shows that A n s e l m is

sense to d e s c r i b e those a t t r i ­

butes w hich are invariably present in a thing.

He uses the

tLlfe A f f ections

ZZ

o f tl?i> f f i i l l word

"natural," however,

in d ifferent senses.

The sense in

w h i c h justice is natural to the will is the sense of ral"

found in his definition of

"natu­

"essential nature," a c c o r d ­

ing to w h i c h what is essential to a thing is w h a t e v e r b e ­ longs to its ultimate purpose or to what it ought to b e . 32 The sense in w hich justice is not natural to the will is that in w h i c h what is natural to a thing is always present in it.

For Anselm,

the former is by far the m o r e important

sense o n t o l o g i c a l l y and morally. then,

that when

session

We m a y safely conclude,

he said that justice is not a

b e c ause it is separable,

he did not m e a n to deny

that it

belongs to man's essential nature,

ture is

d e f i n e d in d

v

natural p o s ­

as

essential n a ­

.

F a i r w e a t h e r 's interpretation also depends on a d i c h o ­ tomy of natural and supernatural w hich is quite foreign to A n s e l m ' s thought.

A n s e l m does think of justice as a gift of

God w h i c h he gives in his g r a c e , 33 and he extols it as a gift of the highest order, g r a c e . " 31*

However,

gift of God,

constituting

"such a lofty

he thinks of all of human nature as a

not just justice.

cant in the case of happiness,

This is p a r t i c u l a r l y s i g n i f i ­ for the affection for h a p p i ­

ness is something that stays w i t h man as long as he lives. He can n ot lose it. natural,

then,

m a n by nature.

On the n o n - A nselmian v i e w of w h a t is

the affection for happiness w o uld belong to But the affection for ha ppiness is d e scribed

by A n s e l m as a gift b e s t o w e d by g r a c e . 35

So the fact that

j u stice is referred to as a special gift of God is no a r g u ­ m e n t in support of the theory that justice is not natural to man. We have seen now that m a n is endow e d at creation with a des i r e for each of the two basic ends for w h ich he was m a d e and a drive to will those things that will achieve t h ese ends.

We m u s t be careful,

however,

not to m i s c o n s t r u e

the r e l a t i o n b e t w e e n m an's natural inclinations, tions,

and his ultim a t e end.

the a f f e c ­

M a n y medie v a l thinkers d e velop

A n e s l m *0 f l n c t r t n p n f J r e s d n m a n d tlje IDtXX

?B

their m oral theories on the basis of their theor i e s of h u m a n nature.

They u n derstand human duties in terms of the basic

h u man drives.

According to this view,

human bei n g s are o b ­

ligated to do what is best suited to ac hieve these ends. M o r a l i t y and psychology are thus closel y related,

but p sy­

chology is fundamental and m o r a l i t y is d e p e n d e n t on p s y c h o l ­ ogy.

A n selm agrees w i t h these thinkers that there is a c o r ­

relation between ethics and psychology,

but he u n d e r s t a n d s

their order of dependence differently.

For h i m d u t y is

fundamental and psychology is dependent.

H u man b e i ng s have

been given the affections they have bec a u s e of the d u t y t h e y have,

and without the affections they w o u l d be una b l e to do

their duty.

We see here the specific a p p l i c a t i o n to m a n of

Anselm's general ontological principle that the esse n t i a l nature of anything is determined by the pu r p o s e for w h i c h it exists,

i.e., by what it ought to be.

W h ile m a n y m e d i e v a l

philosophers hold a natural law theory of morals,

Anselm

holds what we m ight call a m oral law theory of nature. Another way in w hich Anselm's doctr i n e of m a n d i ffers from that of m a n y others or affections.

is in p o s t u l a t i n g two basic drives

A great m a n y thinkers have h e l d that there

is only a single basic drive in man,

and t h e y have th o u g h t

it possible to develop an adequate m ora l p s y c h o l o g y on this basis.

We m i g h t ask,

therefore, w h y A n s e l m t h o u g h t it n e c e s ­

sary to postulate two basic drives.

He teaches,

of course,

that the end of man includes both justice and happiness, and he claims that it is impossible to be just or h a p p y without the will for justice and happiness.

But this does

not explain why there should be two d if f e r e n t drives, for happiness and the other for justice. as good sense, being just,

it seems,

one

It w o u l d m a k e just

to say that happ i n e s s is found in

hence all that a person needs to be b o t h just

and h a ppy is a single affection for justice w h i c h leads h i m to act justly.

One could even find some support for saying

this in Anselm's doctrines.

"Justice"

is his b l a n k e t - w o r d

T9

SIje M f e c f t n t t B nf t!js K i l l for all that a rational b eing

ought to be.

As

an ultimate

end h a p p i n e s s is part

of what human beings ought to be; h a p ­

piness t herefore is a

part of justice.

There is, are needed.

then,

serious question w h y two

affections

But the p r o b l e m is actually m o r e acute than so

far indicated.

For A n s e l m holds that not only do we need

one a f f e c t i o n each for happiness and justice,

but that both

aff e c t i o ns are needed to achieve each of these ends. is to say, w e need both affections

That

just to achieve justice

and b o t h just to achieve happiness.

Is there a w a y to make

sense of these claims? d c d

, X I V gives an argument for the c l aim that both a f ­

fections are n e e d e d in order to achieve justice.

But this

a r g u m e n t presu p p o s e s a discussion in earlier chapters of of the achie v e m e n t of happiness. therefore,

dcd

To lay the groundwork,

for e xamining the argument concerning justice, we

n e e d to look at the argument concerning happiness. In this argum e n t the question is raised w h e t h e r Satan, if he ha d been given only the affection for happiness, w i l l a n yth i n g other than happiness.

could

The answer given is,

"I

c a n't see h o w he could move himself to will something other than h a p piness w h e n he didn't want anyth i n g else. w i l l e d to m o v e himself to some other willing, some t h i n g e l s e . " 36

For if he

then he wan t e d

But this prompts an objection:

w h a t if

he should think something w o u l d promote his happiness w h i c h r e a l l y did not: w ould he not be able to will this through the a f f ec t i o n for h a ppiness?

This question seems to lead to

a dilemma. I am in doubt about w h a t to answer. For if he could not, then I don't see h o w he w o uld will h a p p i n e s s — for he could not will that by w h i c h he thought he could acquire h a p p i ­ ness. But if he could, then I d o n't u n d e r ­ stand w h y he could not will something other than h a p p i n e s s . 37 The d i l emma is resol v e d by the p rinciple that the basic c h a r a c t e r of an action is specified by its end.

Hence,

30

A t t a e l m ’ ja U n c t r t n i e n f

7r ei ?i om and tlj e f f itil however m i s t a k e n a person m a y be in his judgment that w h a t he wills is something that will lead to happiness,

his w i l l ­

ing it for the sake of happiness m eans that he is w i l l i n g happiness.

Thus,

the concl u s i o n is secured that w i t h only

an a f fection for happiness a person could not will a n y t h i n g but happiness. But this suggests further questions.

G r a n t e d that the

will for happiness is not able to will a n y t h i n g o t h e r than happiness, would it be able to stop w i l l i n g h a p p i n e s s ?

"I

am asking whether he could desert this will and m o v e h i m s e l f from willing happiness to not w i l ling i t . " 38 no;

for if he did so willingly,

i.e.,

The a n s w e r is

if he w i l l e d to stop

happiness,

then he would be w i l ling something o t h e r than

happiness,

w hich he cannot do.

Now,

if he cannot stop himself from w i l l i n g happiness,

w o u l d it be possible for h i m to choose some t h i n g w h i c h he k n e w w ould bring less happiness than an a l t e r n a t i v e e q u a l l y possible for him to choose?

Again the answer is no.

"The

more he could understand that there was a h a p p i n e ss h i g h e r than his own,

the happier he w i l l e d to b e . " 39

In this series of questions A n s e l m shows not m e r e l y that someone with only the affection for h a p p i n e s s c o u l d not choose anything other than happiness, such a person is not free,

he shows also that

for he wills w h a t e v e r he w i lls

as a direct consequence of his p sycholo g i c a l m a k e - u p — he cannot help w i l l i n g what he wills.

Moreover,

in these c i r ­

cumstances Satan's sin w ould have been inevitable, w o u l d neces s a r i l y have w i l l e d to be like God,

for he

since as an

angel he w ould know that God's h appines s was h i g h e r than h i s . 40

The implication here is that a per s o n is able to

will a lesser happiness w h e n he sees a g r eater h a p p i n e s s only if there is some entirely d ifferen t k i n d of good for the sake of w hich he chooses the lesser good. course,

He could,

of

choose a lesser happiness if he k n e w no h i g h e r one,

but he could not refrain from w i l l i n g the h i g h e s t h a p p i n e s s

31

SIje A f f e c t i o n s o f tljB m m he knows if he has only the affection for happiness. This is exactly the situation of the animals. pur s u e b e a stly p leasures and do so n e c e s s a r i l y . 41

They It is a l ­

so the situation of rational beings who have lost their a f ­ f e ction for justice through sin. sins,

VJhen the rational will

it is "made a slave to its own affection for w h a t is

beneficial,

for once justice is taken away,

w i l l w h a t this a ffection wills. 1,112

a m a n can only

This means that a man

"falls into the likeness of brute animals and becomes sub­ ject w i t h them to corruption and to the a p p e t i t e s . " 1*3 will of such a man becomes

The

"fervent with desire for benefits

it can n o t now keep from w i l ling because it cannot n o w have those true,

but lost,

al n a t u r e . " 1*4

benefits w h i c h are suitable for r a t i o n ­

Thus, w h a t was said earlier to show that the

p o s s e s s i o n of affections does not determine one's actions m u s t be under s t o o d as applying to beings w h ich have more than a single affection. A significant feature of this line of reasoning is that it is taken over completely and applied to the ined)

(imag­

case w h e r e Satan has only the single affection for

justice. In this case too, he w ould have a will w hich could be neither just nor unjust. For even as the will for happiness w o uld not be unjust if it w i l l e d unsee m l y things w hich it could not keep from willing, so this will for justice w o u l d not be just if it w i l l e d seemly things, since it had received no ability to do anything e l s e . 1*5 In this passage A n s e l m is noting some parallels and sym m e t r i es b e t ween the two affections.

But there is a s i g ­

n i f i c a n t a s y m m e t r y w h i c h he slides over, w h i c h is perhaps m o r e important than the symmetries.

Let us grant to A n s e l m

that if a p e rson has only a single affection then his ch o i c e s are determined.

This, A n s e l m maintains,

the same conse q u e n c e s for one's actions, a f f e c t i o n one has:

results in

regardless of which

these actions cannot be just or unjust

Att0 p i m *0 H o c f r t n p

B2

of

J r e e i l o m and fljp ffitXX b e cause the individual could not help w i l l i n g w h a t he did. There is a sense,

however,

in w hich the c o n s e q u e n c e s are

quite different for the two affections. is that for happiness,

W h e n the a f f e c t i o n

the fact that the p e r s o n ' s c h oices

are d e termined does not prevent them from b e i n g m a d e

in a c ­

cordance with the affection for happine s s or from b e ing fully in keeping w i t h the pursuit of happiness. ever, the affection is that for justice,

When,

how­

the fact that a

person's choices are deter m i n e d m eans that they are not in accord w i t h the pursuit of justice.

(Actually,

what Anselm

says here is that these choices are not just, bu t since he teaches that justice and the affection for justice are one and the s a m e , 46 it follows that these choices are no t in a c ­ cord w ith the affection for justice and t h e r e f o r e do not follow from a true affection for justice.) The p r o blem here can be looked at from a d i f f e r e n t angle.

When a person has two affections,

he can freely

choose between acts m o t i v a t e d by the one and acts m o t i v a t e d by the other, mined.

and these choices,

of course,

are not d e t e r ­

If a person has both an a ffectio n for j u stice and

another affection,

then any just choice he m a k e s

(a) not determined and

(b)

fully just.

is both

But wh y should the

prese n c e of another affection change the m o r a l q u a l i t y of the act performed under the impetus of the a f f e c t i o n for justice?

In both cases,

the act is done from the same i m ­

pulse, w i t h the same goal,

and for the same motive.

act is just if the person has a second affection, not.

Bu t the

u n j u s t if

Why should the presence or absence of a second a f f e c ­

tion make this difference? One thing it seems clear A n s e l m is not say i n g is that w i ll-acts done by a person having only an a f f e c t i o n for j u s ­ tice are not in accord with some kind of p u r e l y o b j e c t i v e or b e h a vioral standard of justice.

A n s e l m sets forth both o b ­

jective and subjective criteria for an act b e ing a just act.4 7 Not o n l y m u s t an act c o n form to an objec t i v e law,

bu t it m u s t

Slje A f f e ctions

B3

rtf tlje 3Dt XX also be done solely for the sake of justice.

There is no

rea s o n for thinking that an act p erforme d by a person who h a d o n l y the a f f e c t i o n for justice could not be in a c c o r d ­ ance w i t h an o bjective law.

Neither is there reason to

t h ink that such an act could not conform to the criterion of intention,

for if an individual had only the one affection

for justice,

it w o u l d be impossible for him to will for the

sake of anything else.

Hence,

A n s e l m must have some other

c r i t e r i o n of justice in m i n d when he denies that such an act c o uld p rope r l y be c a lled just. W h a t is this criterion?

The answer to this question

comes out m o s t clearly in his treatment of ho w the good a n ­ gels m e r i t e d t heir reward of confirmation in goodness and w h y they deserve praise for their present inability to sin. That t r eatment shows that w h a t m akes these angels p r a i s e ­ w o r t h y is that in some sense they have their goodness tice)

from

themselves

(a s e ) .

(jus­

"Angels are not to be praised

for t h e ir justice b e c ause they were able to sin

[and did not

do s o ] , but b e c ause as a result of this ab i l i t y they possess t h eir pr esent inability to sin from t h e m s e l v e s ."48

The u n ­

d e r l y i n g p rinciple here is that in order for a person h i m ­ s e l f to be just his

this m e a ns

justice m u s t come from himself.

What

is e xplained in the following way. W h e n an angel could have depriv e d himself of justice and did not, and could have made himself unjust and did not, it is correct to say that he gave himself justice and m a d e himself just. In this way, then, he possesses the justice from h i m s e l f ... and for that reason he is to be pr aised for his j u s t i c e . 1*9

A person,

then,

has a just act from himself w h e n he has both

the ab i l ity to do w h a t is just and the a b ility to do w h a t is unjust,

and when,

faced w i t h a choice bet w e e n something just

an d s o m e thing unjust,

he chooses the just act.

be genuine m oral alternatives man's

There m u s t

from w h i c h to choose bef o r e a

just choices can be w o r t h y of praise and thus be fully

B4

Anaslm*a

UncfrtttE

T r s s d o m and just.

of

fljp 3Ht XX

A deter m i n i s m w hich makes it imp o ssible to c h o o s e b e ­

tween moral alternatives prevents one from a c t i n g a se.

It

is precisely this sort of d e t e r m i n i s m w h i c h ob t a i n s w h e n a person has only a single affection,

even w h e n that a f f e c t i o n

is the affection for justice. Anselm's thought is that a person w i t h a single a f f e c ­ tion w o uld be no more p r a i seworthy for p e r f o r m i n g an o b j e c ­ tively good act than,

say,

a surgical k n ife is for saving

the life of a dying patient.

The fact that the k n i f e is an

instrument for good stems from the one wh o m a k e s it and the one who uses it.

The fact that an individual w i t h o n l y the

affection for justice acts in a m a n n e r that is o b j e c t i v e l y just stems from the one who made him. The doctrine that for a person's acts to be just they must p r oceed a se makes sense of two closely r e l a t e d points. First,

it shows w h y the affection for happ i n e s s

is n e c e s s a r y

not only so a person can achieve happiness but also so he can achieve justice.

Second,

it makes clear w h y these m u s t

be d i f f e r e n t affections w h i c h sometimes incline p e o p l e in m o r a l l y different directions. Though it is clear now w h y A n s e l m b e l i e v e s there m u s t be two affections,

there still remains a serious q u e s t i o n

about h o w the affections fulfill the role he sees t h e m p l a y ­ ing.

The very nature of a rational m ora l c r e a t u r e requi r e s

that it have the two affections.

Both are e s sential to the

fulfillment of the ultimate end of man,

for t h eir c o - e x i s t ­

ence makes it possible for human beings to sin and t h e r e f o r e also possible for them to be just.

It is not clear,

however,

that this idea is coherent w i t h other pa rts of his thought. Both the affections are essential consti t u e n t s of h u m a n n a ­ ture,

but the affection for happiness is r e s t r i c t e d b y the

requirements of justice.

It is d ifficul t to see h o w this

fits in with Anselm's m e t a p h y s i c s and p s y c h o l o g y of morals. For justice,

as he conceives it,

with human nature.

is perf e c t l y c o - o r d i n a t e d

But h o w can something w h i c h is an

35

SIjb M f e c i t n t t H n f tljB j n m

esse n t i a l part of human nature require re striction by a p r i n ­ c i ple that is c o - o r d i n a t e d with human nature?

If the a f f e c ­

tion for h appiness is part of our essential nature and p u r ­ pose,

it w o u l d seem impossible for it to be,

or to lead to,

s o m e t h i n g that is inappropriate or excessive for our nature. One could say,

of course,

that it is simply human n a ­

ture to w a n t m o r e than one can ever possi b l y achieve. this w i l l not help Anselm.

In the first place,

But

he teaches

that h u man nature was c r e ated in a morall y p e rfect condition, one in w h i c h man did not o r iginally will m o r e than w h a t was right for h i m to will. consent,

Secondly,

he tells us,

"By common

happiness is under s t o o d to include a sufficient d e ­

gree of b e n e f i c i a l things, m o r e , " 50 and

without there being any need for

"God created m a n h appy and in need of nothing."51

N o w if in his original state man's happiness was complete and he lac k e d nothing, t h i n g more.

it is hard to see h o w he could w a n t a n y ­

Even if,

h a p p i n e s s than man's,

as A n s e l m teaches,

there was a greater

the very fact that he is completely

sati s f i e d w i t h his own m o r e limited happiness seems to rule ou t the p o s s i b i l i t y that he could desire anyth i n g more,

for

there is n o t hing to m o t i v a t e a desire for s o mething more. One m i g h t seek to rescue A n s e l m by invoking the c o n ­ cept of order.

This is a leading A u g usti n i a n category,

w h i c h some interpreters have used extensi v e l y in e x plicating A n s e l m . 52

And it is a concept w hich A n s e l m h i mself employs

in s p e a k ing of the relation between the two a f f e c t i o n s . 53 W e m i g h t say, affections,

then,

that w hile human nature includes both

the a ffection for happiness is s u bordinate to

the a f f e c t i o n for justice.

Justice is the ov e r a r c h i n g moral

c a t e g o r y w h i c h encompasses the moral rules that a p ply to the p u r s u i t of happiness.

On this view,

happ i n e s s w o u l d be i n ­

c l u d e d in justice but the two w ould be disti n c t eno u g h to a l l o w for the p o s s i b i l i t y of sin.

One could sin by seeking

the h a p p i n e s s that one already possesses but seeking it for its own sake rather than for the sake of justice,

thus over-

An0 E l m *0 H a c f r t t t B

SE

nf

J r PEdnm and tlje overturning the proper order of human nature. This might answer the d i f f icultie s as they have so far been posed.

Unfortunately,

it does not fit w h a t A n s e l m has

to say about the occurrence of the first sin. sin, of course,

is that of Satan,

(The first

but as we have seen,

there

is no essential d i fference b e t w e e n origi n a l a n gelic nat u r e and original human nature.)

"Satan sinned," A n s e l m writes,

"by w i l l i n g something beneficial,

w h i c h he n e i t h e r p o s s e s s e d

nor was supposed to will at that time....

He e x t e n d e d his

will b e yond justice by a disor d e r e d w i l l i n g of some t h i n g that was more than he had r e c e i v e d . " 54

Satan's

sin,

then,

did not consist in w i l ling w i t h the w r o n g m o t i v e some t h i n g that he already had;

it consi s t e d in w i l l i n g s o m e t h i n g he

did not have but wanted.

We are thus back w i t h the p r o b l e m

of ho w one who is completely happy can w a n t s o m e t h i n g w h i c h he does not need. As far as I can see, A n s e l m never s a t i s f a c t o r i l y e x ­ plains how the interplay of the two a f f e c t i o n s in beings c r eated perfect can develop into a full - f l e d g e d m o r a l c o n ­ flict between them.

In o rder to m a k e sense of m o r a l c o n ­

flict and the experience of temptation, expedients,

sic principles of his. distinguished; planation.

he r e sorts to two

both of w hich are i n c o nsist e n t w i t h c e r t a i n b a ­ These two exped i e n t s are not c l e a r l y

they are,

in fact,

On the one hand,

combi n e d in the same e x ­

he holds that S a tan's a f f e c t i o n

for happiness did exceed the limits app r o p r i a t e to his n a ­ ture and did cause him actually to desi r e s o m e t h i n g he should not have.

He w a nted something w hich b e l o n g e d p r o p e r l y o n l y

to G o d . 55

On the other hand,

he implies that w h e n God p l a c e d

upon man the moral obligations b i n ding u p o n him,

he i n c l u d e d

certain arbitrary restrictions upon the free e x p r e s s i o n of his natural being.

He says that

something beneficial,

"Satan sinned by w i l l i n g

w h i c h he neither p o s s e s s e d nor wa s

supposed to will at that time, increase his h a p p i n e s s . " 56

even t h o u g h it was able to

Satan was suppo s e d to will o n l y

£1}e A f f e c t i o n s o f t l j e Olt 11

S7

w h a t God a l l owed h i m to will at any given time,

even though

w h a t was r e s t r i c t e d by God's will was something w h ich would h a v e g e n u i n e l y increased his happiness had there been no r e ­ s t riction on it w h e n he w i l l e d it.

Thus, what p r evented

Satan from w i l l i n g and enjoying the added happiness was not that it was something inappropriate to his nature, it wa s something God had forbidden him to have. b e i n g i n appropriate to his nature,

but that

Far from

this happiness,

Anselm

tells us, w o u l d have been given to h i m later if he had not w i l l e d it at this time.

The doctrine here is, apparently,

that God places arbit r a r y restrictions upon the angelic n a ­ ture simply to make possible the conflict be t w e e n an angel's d u t y and his natural inclination w h i c h ma kes for temptation and the p o s s i b i l i t y of sin. Each of these explanations is inconsistent w i t h other d o c t r i n e s of Anselm.

The first is inconsistent w i t h his

t e a c h i n g that m a n was created completely just,

for it holds

that hi s will was chara c t e r i z e d by a desire that goes beyond and thus viola t e s the rules of justice.

The second is at

odds w i t h the notion that justice and human nat u r e are p e r ­ fectly co-ordinated,

for it sees m an's duty as imposing c e r ­

tain p r o h ibitions on the free expression of his essential nature. Anselm,

it seems,

c orrectly senses that if justice

m u s t involve m a k i n g a choice between genuine m o ral a l t e r n a ­ tives,

there must be some tension within the will between

w h a t one wants to will and what one ought to w i l l . problem,

however,

The

is to conceive h o w such a tension is p o s ­

sible w i t h i n a system of thought w hich combines A n s e l m s n o t i o n of justice w i t h

(a) an ontol o g y that holds that the

esse n t i a l n a ture of m a n is justice and

(b) a theol o g y which

m a i n t a i n s that human beings were created com p l e t e l y just. For such a s y stem of thought leads to paradox.

It entails

t h a t if a b e i n g is to be c r e ated p erfect l y just he m u s t be c r e a t e d p a rtly unjust.

For in order that a person be

A n a e l m *0 D n r f r t n e n f J r e e d n m and f l j e 3Dt l l

B3

com p l e tely just,

there m u s t be some element in his will

w h i c h is not completely subordinated to justice.

Otherwise

choice is impossible and so is justice. The paradox can be set out in somew h a t d i f f e r e n t terms by m a k i n g a d i s tinction b e t ween two kinds of justice, justice of the affections,

one a

the other a justice of volitions.

Justice of the affections consists in a compl e t e s u b o r d i n a ­ tion of the affection for happiness to the a f f e c t i o n for justice, w hile justice in volitions consi s t s in m a k i n g a c ­ tual right choices and m a k i n g them r i g h t l y m a k i n g them a se).

The paradox is that if h u m a n beings w e r e

created with the justice of the affections, volitions is impossible, is possible,

(which includes

the justice of

while if the justice of v o l i t i o n s

human beings could not have been c r e a t e d w i t h

the justice of the affections.

W h i c h e v e r the case,

God

could not have created rational beings c o m p l e t e l y just,

just

both in the affections and in volitions. Even if A n s e l m is unable to resolve this paradox, concerns which lead h i m into it are clear.

the

He thinks that

the human will must include the power of s e l f - d e t e r m i n a t i o n — the ability to choose, moral alternatives.

contradeterministically, between

The doctrine that there are two a f f e c ­

tions in the will is part of the a t t emp t to spell out the psychological conditions n ecessary if hu man beings are to have such a power.

And all of this grows out of the t e a c h ­

ing that the highest end of man is justice. It is the fundamental orien t a t i o n to justice w h i c h marks off the rational will and rational beings from lower orders of being and will. in animals,

A n s e l m holds that there is will

but animal will is chara c t e r i z e d b y o n l y the

single affection ad c o m m o d u m . 57

What essentially d i f f e r e n ­

tiates man from the animals,

then,

tice.

because in A n s e l m ' s day it had

This is significant,

is the a f f e c t i o n for j u s ­

long been customary to regard the q u a lit y w h i c h d i f f e r e n ­ tiated man m o s t fundamentally from the animals as reason.

aljB nf

MfgclinttJB

B9

tljp m m

A n s e l m agrees that reason is one of the differ e n t i a t i n g fe a ­ tures,

and he goes along w i t h the convention of identifying

h u m a n nature with rational nature.

But for hi m reason is

not the m o s t fundamental d i f ferentiating characteristic, rea s o n is subordinate to justice. m u s t h a v e it to be just.

for

Man has reason b e cause he

The animals do not need reason b e ­

c a use t h eir end is not justice.

Once again we see the s u ­

p r e m e role p l a y e d b y m o r a l i t y in Anselm's metaphysics. In rational beings the requirements of justice d e t e r ­ m i n e t h e ir entire nature and thus the structure of their wills.

As w e have seen,

in rational beings will is the

p o w e r of self-determination.

So far we "have c o n c entrated

on the form w h i c h this power took origina l l y in men and a n ­ gels.

But this p ower takes d ifferent forms in different

beings;

it even takes diffe r e n t forms at diff e r e n t stages

in the lives of these beings. p o wer in the angels,

The presen t form of this

for example,

is quite d i fferent from

the f o r m it had for t h e m originally.

Ori g i n a l l y the angels

ha d the ability to make choices between moral alternatives. N o w they do not.

The good angels have been conf i r m e d in

r i g h t e o u s n e s s a n d no longer have the ability to do anything unjust,

w hile the w i c k e d angels have been c o n f i r m e d in in­

justice and have no ability to do what is just. angels' justice,

The good

acts are causally d e termined by the affection for w h i l e the w i c k e d angels'

acts are causa l l y deter

m i n e d b y the affection for happiness.

We m i ght ask,

there­

fore, w h e t h e r it makes sense to ascribe s e l f - d e t ermination to t h e s e b e ings and so w h e t h e r it makes

sense to ascribe

justice to the good angels and injustice to the wicked. A n s e l m m aintains that the just acts w h i c h the good angels p e r f o r m are truly just,

b e c a u s e their present in­

a b i l i t y to do anyth i n g unjust is a result of a choice they m a d e e a r l i e r b e t w e e n w h a t is just and wh a t is unjust. even t h o u g h they are u n able to do anythi n g unjust, just acts are something they have from themselves.

Thus,

their So thei

3H

A nselm 's flttrfrtne of J r e e d n m and fJje ffitll

when an angel could have depri v e d h i m se l f of j u stice and did not,

and could have made himself u n just and did not,

it is

correct to say that he gave himself justice and m a d e h i m s e l f just.

In this way,

s e l f . " 59

then,

he p ossesses j u stice from h i m ­

The same sort of r easoning shows that the evil a n ­

gels have their injustice from themselves. angels, whether good or bad angels,

w h e t h e r in t h eir o r i g i ­

nal state or their present condition, determination.

The will of the

is a p ower of s e l f ­

Before the angels b e cam e c o n f i r m e d in r i g h t ­

eousness or wickedness,

this power was a p o w e r of c h o i c e b e ­

tween moral alternatives.

But the abil i t y to c h o o s e b e t w e e n

moral alternatives disappears once the angels have b e e n c o n ­ firmed.

This,

however,

self-determination.

does not d e s t r o y their p o w e r of

For the choices they n o w m a k e are t h ose

they d e termined earlier are the ones they should make.

They

are no w doing exactly what they w a n t e d to be doing. God,

too, has the power of self- d e t e r m i n a t i o n w i t h o u t

the ability to choose b e t ween moral alternatives. fers from the angels,

however,

He d i f ­

in that he n e v e r ha d the

ability to choose b e t ween moral alternatives.

Go d has a l ­

ways chosen according to the standard of justice,

and it is

impossible that he should ever do anyth i n g else.

Nonethe­

less,

God's actions are self-determined,

for e v e r y t h i n g he

does proceeds a se and is solely the e x p r e s s i o n of his own n a t u r e . 60

In God s e lf-determination is c o m p a t i b l e w i t h the

inability ever to do anything unjust, and has his entire being from himself. God himself determines what he does.

for God is u n c r e a t e d N o t h i n g o t h e r than In creatures,

however,

s e l f -determination is incompatible w i t h the i n a b i l i t y ever to do anything unjust. God,

For creatures have their b e i n g from

not from themselves.

Hence anythi n g they do as a r e ­

sult of being d e termined by their natur e does no t come from themselves but from God.

Self-dete r m i n a t i o n in c r e a t e d

beings exists only in those who have,

or have had,

the

ability to choose what is right when th e y c o u l d have cho s e n

SI j p M f e c t i a t t H a f tlje m i l l

gj

w h a t is wrong. W e m a y n o w bring this section on the ultim a t e purpose of the a f fections to a close by drawing three general c o n ­ clusions.

First,

what constitutes the praisewor t h i n e s s of

any b e i n g's justice is that the being has it from himself. Secondly,

as a consequence,

ra t i o n a l being,

w h a t constitutes will in any

i.e., any b e i n g w hose ultimate end is justice,

is the p ower of self-determination. p u r p o s e of the affections

Third,

the ultimate

in man is to provide the will with

the c o n d i tions w h i c h m a k e human self-determination possible.

III.

THE TWO AFFECTIONS

In d i s c u s s i n g the nature, affections,

function and p u rpose of the

we have been c o n c e n t r a t i n g prim a r i l y on features

th e y have in common.

In this section we shall be looking

at some of the m ajor differences between t h e m and at how they are r e l ated to each other in achieving man's ultimate end. A.

Their D i f f e r e n c e s .

One of the m o s t important ways

in w h i c h the affections d i ffer is that the a f fection for ha p p i n e s s is a perma n e n t feature of all w i lls and linked to t h e m inseparably,

whereas the affection for justice is not

in s e p a r a b le from every will.

It is, of course,

a permanent

feature of the will of God and now of the good angels,

but

it is not a p e r m a n e n t feature of the will of the evil angels or of h u man beings w h o are living at the present t i m e . 61 The af f e c t i o n for justice becomes actually separated from the will w h e n a p e rson sins.

The separabilit y of justice,

indi c a t e s the p o s s i b i l i t y of sin, i n s e p a r a b i l i t y of justice

and correspondingly,

then, the

i ndicates the i m possibility of

sin.

W i t h the angels,

lost,

it can n ever be retrieved.

once the a ffection for justice is

life,

however,

W i t h men in the pr e s e n t

w h e n the affection for justice is lost,

is still the p o s s i b i l i t y of r e covering it.

there

Bu t the recovery

32

Attaelm'H U n c f r t t t e n f T r e p d n m a n d t l j p IIIt XX

is not something w h i c h can be accom p l i s h e d b y the one wh o does not have justice.

It must be effe c t e d b y grace.

Unlike the affection for justice, happiness cannot be lost, however, sin,

the a f f e c t i o n for

even w h e n a per s o n sins.

It does,

change its character w h e n a per s o n sins.

Before

the affection for happiness is subord i n a t e to the a f ­

fection for justice.

In this condition,

the c o m m o d a w h i c h

it wills are truly b e neficial to the per s o n w h o w i l l s them, and they genuinel y minister to his happiness. person sins, not only is justice lost, ness.

In the first place,

the c o m m o d u m w h i c h wa s w i l l e d

contrary to justice is not obtained. piness w h i c h one had before

Bu t w h e n a

but so is true h a p p i ­

An d secondly,

the h a p ­

sin is n o w lost.

The angels who prefe r r e d w h a t God had not w i l l e d to give them, rather than p r e f e r r i n g to remain upright in the justice in w h i c h they were made, received the judgment of justice; not only did they fail to obt a i n w h a t they prefe r r e d to justice and w h a t made them despise justice, but they even lost the good w h i c h they h a d . 62 But though happiness itself was lost, continues to operate.

the a f f e c t i o n

And since justice is gone,

the a f f e c ­

tion ad c o m mo da becomes the dominating principle.

Without

the guidance of justice,

however,

it drives me n to w i l l all

sorts of bogus c o m m o d a .

In this c ondit i o n the w i l l turns

itself to "the false benefits sought by b r u t e a n imals at the urging of their a p p e t i t e s . " 63 will]

"In such a state

[the

is driven b y various appetites until it p r e c i p i t a t e s

itself and all the various members s u b o r d i n a t e d to it into m a n i f o l d e v i l s . " 61* the sinner.

This is all part of the p u n i s h m e n t of

Because he elects to follo w the a f f e c t i o n for

happiness rather than the affection for justice,

he is given

over to the affection for happiness.

He cont i n u e s to w i l l

happiness but now never achieves it.

Thus the c o n t i n u e d

pos s e s sion of the affection for h appine s s a f ter a p e r s o n sins leads only to misery.

Though a per s o n who sins re j e c t s

Slje A f f e c t i o n s o f ifje m i l l justice,

93

the fact that he suffers as a result of it is i t ­

self just.

"If one should forsake j u s t i c e __ the will for

h a p p i n e s s w o u l d still remain, good things w h i c h he had lost,

so that through a need of the he would be justly punished

w i t h dire m i s e r y . " 65 On the o t h e r hand, co m p l e t e

the final reward of justice is the

satisfaction of one's desire for happiness.

This

does no t o ccur in this life for people wh o remain just. Final r e ward and final p u nishment for men will come in the next life.

The present conditions,

are s o m e what mixed.

therefore,

of human life

But the pure conditions ma y be seen in

the case of the angels.

The good angels were immediately

g i v e n t h eir reward once they p e rsevered in justice w h e n the evil angels did not.

As their reward God gave t h e m e v e r y ­

thing they could possi b l y desire through their a f fection for happiness. The angels who p referred the justice w h ich they had to that thing [i.e., the c o m m o d u m ] w h i c h they did not have, have received, t h r o u g h the reward of this very justice the good w h i c h they, on account of their c h o o s i n g justice, had seemed to lose; and they also remained e ternally secure in the justice w h i c h they had. For this reason, they were raised to honor, so that they o b t a i n e d w h a t e v e r they were able to will, and they no longer saw anything to will w h i c h excee d e d w h a t they already h a d . 66 W e see n o w that the affection for h a ppiness is not only a c o ndi t i o n w h i c h makes temptation possi b l e for a cr e a t u r e w h o s e end is justice,

it is also a c o ndition w h i c h

ma kes r e w ard and p u nishment possible. There are,

however,

serious problems w i t h this picture

of the r e ward that is granted for justice. fects b o t h affections.

The reward a f ­

The affection for justice is made

i n s e p a r a b le from the will,

w hile the affection for happiness

is s u p p l i e d w i t h all the benefits it can desire.

It appears

that not o n l y does the reward affect both affections but

A n B E l m *0 U n c i r i n e n f J r E B d n m a nd f l j e EttlX

34

that each affection enjoys a separate reward:

the a f f e c t i o n

for justice is strengthened so that one can n e v e r again place anything else before justice, happiness is granted all it desires.

and the a f f e c t i o n for But this is no t the

case.

There is no strengthening of the a f f e c t i o n for j u s ­

tice.

It is the added satisfactions one enjoys w h i c h no w

m a k e it impossible ever to will anythin g unjust. tion in righteousness, great moral virtue,

Confirma­

w h i c h appears to r e p r e s e n t a state of

consists m e r e l y in the ab s e n c e of t e m p t a ­

tion and o p p ortunity to sin.

Instead of b e i n g a c o n d i t i o n

of moral strength, m a r k e d by the power to o v e r c o m e in m o r a l conflicts,

it is a condition in w h i c h there are no m o r a l

conflicts at all.

A n selm himself puts it v e r y clearly.

"The good angel's inability to sin g lor i f i e d him,

since b e ­

cause of the m erit of p e r severing he wa s e l e v a t e d so that he could no longer see anything m o r e he was able to w i l l than what he already h a d . " 67 We have already seen that A n s e l m regards a n y o n e w h o has been confirmed in righteousness as praiseworthy.

This is

because such a person's inability to sin comes a se.

But

the praise that is due h i m is not p r i m a r i l y for some t h i n g w h i c h he has or does now, the past.

but for somet h i n g w h i c h he did in

A n s e l m apparently believes that a p e r s o n should

continue receiving praise indefinitely for this k i n d of past act even though he never does anything similar again. Such confirmation and such praise w o u l d p e rhaps be u n ­ derstandable if the act they reward r e p r e s e n t e d a great triumph over a powerful evil which, longer rise to trouble moral beings.

once defeated,

can no

But one can har d l y

speak of the act of the good angels in such g r a n d i l o q u e n t terms.

For the reward that God gives is p r e c i s e l y the good

thing which he initially forbade the angels to will.

Go d

d e l i b e rately with held this from them so that t h e y c o u l d prove themselves by obeying h i m in refus i n g to will it.

We

saw earlier that A n s e l m is forced by the logic of his p o si-

(tl)B A f f e c l t t t n a n f tl}s> f f i t l l

95

tion to the e xpedient of postulating an arbitrary command of God in o rder to account for the moral experience of t e m p t a ­ tion.

W e now see the consequences of this in his v i e w of

the act of the good angels and of the confi r m a t i o n they r e ­ c e i v e as its reward.

And w e see the implications of it for

a t h e o r y of the nature of evil.

The just act of the good

angels turns out to be nothing m o r e than obedience to the a r b i t r a r y ruling of a God jealously guarding his own honor (the a f fection for justice,

A n s e l m tells us,

is given to us

by Go d for his own h o n o r ) , 68 sin is the desire for something w h i c h w ould have been given anyway if it had not been desired, and the reward is the giving of this thing because it was not desired. A second m a j o r question arises in connection w i t h the d o c t r i n e that the affec t i o n for justice is separable from the will.

If the a ffection for justice can be lost suddenly

and c o m p l e t e l y the m o m e n t an individual sins, to call it a basic, will?

even an essential,

is it proper

dispos i t i o n of the

This p r o b l e m is a c c entuated when c o n s idered in r e l a ­

tion to m a n in this life.

For m a n can p r esently lose ju s ­

tice an d regain it any number of times. has it one day and not the next,

Now,

if a person

and regains it the third

da y o n l y to lose it again on the fourth,

and if this process

can go on i n d e finitely as long as the person is alive, w h a t sense does it m a k e to call this a disposition? tion is m o r e stable and p ermanent than this,

A disposi­

is it not?

We

have a l r e a d y exami n e d the sense in w h i c h the a f fection for j u stice is an essential characteristic of human nature: is s o m e thing a h uman being o ught always to h a v e . 69

it

But that

is q u ite d i f f e r e n t from calling it a di s p o s i t i o n w h i c h a man has in his p r e s e n t situation.

Even if he has this affection,

h o w can it be a d i s p o s i t i o n , if it is something he can lose c o m p l e t e l y tomorrow? This is not a quest i o n A n s e l m dir e c t l y answers. he m a k e s some points that are relevant to it.

But

He holds,

3E

Anselm*^ D nrtrtnE of J r p e d t t m a n d t l j e 3H1 1 X

for instance,

that as long as a person has an a f f e c t i o n for

justice it shows the c h a r a c t eristics that t y p i f y a d i s p o s i ­ tion. As long as one to be

has justice,

just, even w h e n he is asleep

he

c o n s i s t e n t l y d e sires

or no t t h i n k i n g a b o u t it.

Justice is not confined to volitions w h i c h are just;

it is a

tendency in one's will that prompts one to p e r f o r m just v o l i t i o n s .7 0 But if the affection for justice is indeed a d i s p o s i ­ tion,

it is difficult to see h o w one can lose it i n s t a n t a n ­

eously.

An

answer to this depends

on

claims that A n s e l m

makes in elaborating the second m a j o r di f f e r e n c e he sees b e ­ tween the two affections.

We will there f o r e turn to an e x ­

a m ination of this second difference and then ret u r n to this p r oblem afterward. A n s e l m describes the second d i ffer e n c e in the f o l l o w ­ ing t e r m s . These affections also differ in that the will w h i c h is the affection for w i l l i n g what is beneficial is not itself the o b ­ ject that it w ills [non est h o c q u o d i p s a v u l t ], whereas the will w h i c h is the a f ­ fection for willing rectitude is r e c t i t u d e . 71 It is not easy to u n derstand w h a t it m ea n s to say that an a f fection is not its own object or that an a f f e c t i o n for something is that very thing.

However,

A n s e l m does shed

further light upon this puzzling claim. the sentence quoted above,

he adds,

I m m e d i a t e l y after

"For c e r t a i n l y no one

wills rectitude unless he possesses rectitude; can will point

and no one

rectitude except by m eans of r e c t i t u d e . " 72The

of this statement lies in the implied c o m p a r i s o n w i t h

the affection for happiness.

One can will r e c t i t u d e only

if one already possesses rectitude, will happiness at any time, h a ppiness or not.

but one can and does

w h e t h e r one a c t u a l l y p o s s e s s e s

As A n s e l m puts it in a n other passage,

"The will for justice is itself justice; h a ppiness is not itself h a p p i n e s s . " 73

but the w i l l for

The c l a i m that one

Slje

nf

M fecltnna

97

tlji? m i l l

one can desire happiness even when one does not have it seems true enough.

But there is still o b s c u r i t y in the n o ­

tion that the dispo s i t i o n for justice is justice itself. We can begin to make sense of this claim, I believe, by e m ­ pl o y i n g a distinction that is sometimes made between two ways in w h i c h an action m a y be directed towards a purpose or may b r i n g a bout a result that it aims at.

A p u rpose or goal

m i g h t be quite distinct from the actions w h i c h ai m at it. Such is the case when students attend classes, w r i t e papers,

read books,

take notes,

work in laboratories,

etc., with

the ai m of g e t ting a college degree or a w e l l - p a y i n g job. On the o ther hand,

a purpose or goal m a y be a pattern or

k i n d of activ i t y w hich is exemplified in the actions and w h i c h cannot exist apart from them. an ind i vidual reads newspapers,

Such is the case when

attends political rallies,

c o n t r i b u t e s time and m o n e y to q ualified candidates for p u b ­ lic office, citizen.

v otes regularly,

etc.,

in order to be a good

A c q u i r i n g a college degree or g e tting a w e l l - p a y ­

ing job is diffe r e n t from reading books,

taking notes and

o t h e r activities w h i c h are the m eans thereto. citizen,

however,

just is voting regularly,

an d p o l i t i c a l l y informed,

Being a good

ke e p i n g socially

etc.

If m y u n d e r s t a n d i n g of A n s e l m is correct,

part of what

he m e a n s by saying that the affection for justice is justice itself is that the kind of goal aimed at in the actions b r o u g h t about by this affection is the kind that is e x e m p l i ­ fied in the actions themselves.

In contrast,

the affection

for h a p piness is an affection w h i c h is direc t e d toward an e n d - c o n d i t i o n that is separate from the actions directed t o ­ w a r d it. This,

however,

is not all he means by saying that the

a f f e c t i o n for justice is justice itself,

for he holds that

one m u s t possess justice before he can p e r f o r m just acts. If j u stice w e r e m e r e l y the perfo r m i n g of deeds w h i c h e x e m ­ p l ify a pattern or conform to a standard,

one c o uld never act

93

Ans el m' a D o c t r i n e nf Tr e edom and tlje HIi XX

justly because it w o u l d be impossible to p o ssess fore one acted justly.

j u stice b e ­

The perfo r m a n c e of just d e eds p r e ­

supposes a desire to act justly.

On the o t her hand,

it is

the nature of a desire to lead to the d e s i r e d a c t i o n unl e s s there are c o untervailing factors.

So the d e s i r e for ju s t i c e

will lead one to act justly unless something interferes. Justice,

then,

is both the desire to act justly,

a f fection for justice,

i.e.,

the

and the perfo r m a n c e of just volitions,,

v o litions w hich c o n form to the standard of justice.

Thus,

w h e n A n s e l m states that the affection for justice is its own object,

he is drawing on the d i s tinction b e t w e e n t h ese two

aspects of justice,

the desire and the volitions,

an d he is

saying that a person cannot have one w i t h o u t the other.

A

person cannot p e r f o r m just v olitions w i t h o u t p o s s e s s i n g an affection for justice,

and he cannot have an a f f e c t i o n for

justice w h i c h does not lead to just volitions. as we saw above,

And since,

the end toward w h i c h just v o l i t i o n s are

directed is one that is exemplified in those v o l i t i o n s t h e m ­ selves,

the affection for justice is jus t i c e — it is its own

object. In summary,

the points I b e l ieve A n s e l m is m a k i n g

w h e n he holds that the affection for justice is justice and is its own object are

(1) the goal toward w h i c h the a f f e c ­

tion is directed is the kind of goal w h i c h is imman e n t in the actions that aim at it,

(2) the actions w h i c h a i m at

and e x emplify the goal of justice presu p p o s e a d e s i r e for them,

and

(3) this desire m u s t be m a n i f e s t e d in such actions.

We m a y now return to the p r o b l e m that we left h a n g i n g a short while back,

the p r o b l e m of how a d i s p o s i t i o n for

justice m a y be lost suddenly and c o m p l e t e l y the m o m e n t a person sins.

The answer depends upon u n d e r s t a n d i n g b o t h

that justice m u s t be the supreme princ i p l e in a p e r s o n ' s life,

else it is not justice,

and that the a f f e c t i o n for

justice is its own o b ject in the sense just explained. justice is supreme,

If

then a p e rson must always be d i s p o s e d