III. The Price One Pays

III

THE PRICE ONE PAYS

I can fancy that you are becoming somewhat weary. “What is the sense of this fellow’s always harping on the same thing,” you may say. “Here he has been going on for two chapters with his precious analysis, repeating himself, insisting, emphasizing, underestimating my intelligence, and after I have his point, and he has made himself clear, he keeps on talking. I picked up his book under the impression that it might help me to acquire more will-power, and here he is trying to jam a psychological treatise down my throat.”

Now I admit the seeming justice of this. But my point is vital. Before we can acquire will-power, we must first of all know what we are talking about. An amazing amount of cant and nonsense is written about the will. I have seen a book on Will-Power so thick and for-midable that the chairs creaked when you put it upon them, and it was vitiated and full of absurdities from the first page to the last, simply because the author had not the remotest conception of what the will is. Occasionally there was a little sense, because occasionally the writer caught glimpses of the truth, as a man must in so many pages. But we cannot afford to catch only glimpses. We must know what we are talking about all the time, not merely in moments of absent-mindedness. My point, I repeat, is vital. I am taking no risks with it.

Having approached a true conception of the will, we are prepared to go a step farther, and to find what we mean by the phrase “Will-Power.” This is not difficult. It resolves itself into a question of time. When we say a man has will-power, we mean that he has a certain desire which persists and predominates for a comparatively long period. It is not being constantly dethroned by a multitude of other desires. Either the other desires are not strong enough, or it is too strong for them (which as we shall see later, is more than a mere verbal distinction); and if perchance this desire is forced to abdicate for a little while, which may sometimes happen with the strongest-willed persons, it quickly throws out the usurping desire and reigns again.

This dominant desire is usually a wish for something remote. The man who obeys it is setting the expected advantage of the future against the supposed advantages of the present. He will not eat an extra slice of that delicious pie, for he knows that if he did he would two hours later be suffering the agonies of indigestion. He will not gaze at that pretty girl on the subway seat opposite, for he has embarked upon the noble enterprise of improving his mind; he has set aside his trip to work in the mornings for concentration on some serious subject; he will not be distracted. Or he will stay late at the office; he will take his work home with him; he will whip his brain on when it is tired; he will shorten his holidays, eliminate social enjoyments and endanger his health, for he has resolved upon Success in Life.

Will-Power, then, may be defined as the ability to keep a remote desire so vividly in mind that immediate desires which interfere with it are not gratified.

Understand me, I pass no moral judgment on the will per se. I do not condemn it, neither do I praise. It may be evil as well as good. A man may devote years to avenging himself upon another. He may put up with inconveniences; endure privation; submit to insults, humiliation, and risks of exposure, all of which he could avoid if he would consent to give up his aim. Napoleon consecrated his colossal will to the once glorious and now discredited occupation of trying to conquer the world.

But will does imply thought of the future. It is ready, if need be, to sacrifice the present to the future. And that is one of the great distinguishing marks between the civilized man and the savage. The savage did not save; he did not plant crops; he did not provide for old age. He did not even set aside food for the next day. When he got a piece of meat, he gorged himself, until he slept. He died young.

A firmer grasp of the true idea of will-power is attainable if one is acquainted with some of the distinctions of political economy. The economist differentiates between “desire” and “demand.” When the layman talks of the demand for automobiles, he thinks usually of the desire for automobiles. The economist will not tolerate such looseness. A beggar may genuinely desire a Rolls Royce car, but that does not concern the manufacturer. It does not constitute part of the demand that the manufacturer must supply. He is interested only in the folk who can afford to pay for Rolls-Royce cars. And it is not only essential that the people who can afford a Rolls-Royce shall desire it, but they must desire it so much that they are willing to pay the price for it.

Now we are ready to apply this economic definition to the will. After thirteen pages of theory, exegesis and preparation, we are able to lay down the first rule for the aspirant for will-power. It is a very important rule, and, indeed, possibly covers most of the subject.

Before you make any formal resolutions whatsoever, make certain that you genuinely desire to carry it out. Let there be no doubt that the end you have in view is so desirable or advantageous that it will outweigh all desires and advantages or all other ends that are likely to have to be foregone or abandoned in order to attain it. In short, be sure you are willing to pay the price.

This rule is the corner-stone. Its importance will become more and more appreciated as we go on.