CHAPTER XXV.

INTENTION.

THE word “intend,” the concrete, seems to be employed on two occasions. 1. We are said to intend, or not to intend, certain actions of our own. 2. And we are said to intend, or not to intend, certain consequences of our own actions.

We have to examine what is the state of mind which the word designates on each of those occasions.

1. We are said to intend only a future action. When the action is immediate, we are not said to INTEND, but to WILL it; an action intended, is an action of ours contemplated as future, or certainly to be.

We have minutely analysed, on a former occasion, the state of mind which exists, when events, other than actions of our own, are contemplated as future. An association, from prior habit, exists, between antecedent and consequent, in a series of events; an association, such, that we cannot think of one of the events as existing, without thinking of the others as existing; that is, without anticipating their existence.

397 That this process is involved in anticipating that peculiar event, called an action of our own, cannot be doubted. The only question is, what are the circumstances from which it derives its peculiar character.

Something peculiar is imparted to it, from the very circumstance of its being an action of our own. In anticipating an action of our own, we necessarily anticipate the mental processes, which are its antecedents. Among these we necessarily anticipate what is called the act of willing. In such anticipations, the association is of that intimate character, which constitutes belief. In anticipating an action of our own, therefore, we contemplate the act as certainly future: that is, we believe that we shall will it. But to look forward through a certain train of antecedents and consequents, the concluding part of which is a certain act, which we shall then will, and then do, is a process which apparently involves in it all that is meant by what, in this class of cases, we call Intention.

It may still, however, be objected, that the explanation thus presented, recognises, in the state of mind in question, only the ideas involved in the process called willing, with the idea of the action, and the belief that the action will take place; but that there seems to be something more than the present existence of ideas and belief, in that state of mind which we call intending, which seems to partake of the nature of willing at the moment of its existence.

There is something here of the customary illusions of language. The word “intend” is an active verb. And, wherever we use an active verb, we have 398 the association of activity and of willing, involved in it.

That there can be nothing of willing in the case, is abundantly certain; since the will relates only to immediate acts.

It may, however, be objected, that though there is nothing of willing in the case, there is nevertheless a determination or purpose to will. A man may say, I not only believe that I shall act so and so, but I am determined that I shall act so and so.

In this objection, the words “determine,” and “determination,” are still but substitutes for “intend,” and “intention.” At most, they only mark a degree of strength in the intention. There is another expression, however, which deserves notice. A man may not only resolve to do a thing, but he may promise to do it. And the promises of men form a very important class of their actions.

After all, a Promise is in its very essence merely the Declaration of an Intention. If it be asserted that it is not only the declaration of an intention, but the declaration that nothing shall occur to hinder that intention of its effect; what is this but the declaration of another intention; the intention not to frustrate an existing intention? But this second intention is included in the first. The very existence of an intention implies the absence of any counter intention.

Why is it that a man intends? For the same reason, of course, that he wills. In willing, a certain act is contemplated as a cause of pleasure; an immediate act, and an immediate pleasure. In intending, a certain future act is contemplated as cause of a future 399 pleasure. The idea of the pleasure and its cause, united by association, constitute the motive. In this act of anticipation, the sequence, consisting of motive as cause, action as effect, is indissoluble. In our supposed state of intention, the motive is presented to the mind as about to exist at the time in contemplation; the idea of the act as existing irresistibly follows. An act of our own anticipated by irresistible association, when the motive is immediate, is willed; when the motive is future, is intended. Intention is the strong anticipation of a future will. But every thing which strengthens the motive, that is, associates the idea of the act with that of a greater amount of good arising from it, increases the certainty of the act. A promise to perform the act strengthens the motive; in some cases exceedingly. As it is of great consequence to men in general, that promises should be performed, they take care to reward the performing of promises, to punish the non-performing of them, with their favour in the one case, their disfavour in the other. When the favour and disfavour of mankind are general, and strong, to a certain degree, they amount to the highest of all punishments, and all rewards. A promise, then, which is the declaration of an intention, greatly strengthens the certainty of the act, by greatly adding to the force of the motive.

2. The next case of the meaning of Intention is of easy explanation. When we will, or when we intend, an action, we either foresee, or do not foresee, certain of its consequences. In what associations the act of foreseeing or anticipating consists, we need not again explain. The question, whether a man did 400 or did not foresee certain consequents of his acts, is of great importance in certain cases of judicature, because upon this circumstance depends the propriety of a less or greater degree of punishment, perhaps the propriety or impropriety of punishing at all.

A person administers to another person a medicine. It turns out to be poison. The person whose act the administration was, believing the drug to be salubrious, not hurtful, anticipated good consequences; in other words, intended the benefit of the patient; intending, and anticipating, here, being only two names for the same thing. He did not foresee the evil consequences; and this we commonly express by saying he did not intend them. If the person who administered the drug, instead of believing it to be a proper medicine, and anticipating from it salutary effects, knew it to be poison, anticipating from it destructive effects, he would be said to intend those effects.

It thus appears, that when a man, having certain consequences of an act in view, proceeds to the performance of the act, the having in view, or anticipating, receives, in these circumstances, the name of intention. It is a case of anticipation, anticipation in peculiar circumstances, and is marked by a peculiar name.

The consequence of an act may be such, that the person had no reason to anticipate them, or could not possibly anticipate them; or they may be such, that, though actually not foreseen, they might, with more or less of care, have been foreseen. These are questions respecting the nature of one solitary act. 401 They are what in law are called questions of fact. The exact determination of them is essential to the right decision of the judge in the particular case; but any further consideration of them is not within the province of this inquiry.69

69 This chapter is devoted to clearing up the confusion and disentangling the ambiguity connected with the word Intention. And it fully attains the purpose, save where the refusal to admit any difference between expectation and a strong association, throws a certain haze over an operation into which they both enter.

Intention, when the word is used in reference to our future conduct, is well characterized by the author as “the strong anticipation of a future will.” It is an unfaltering present belief that we shall hereafter will a particular act, or a particular course of action. There may be, over and above this belief, an intention “that nothing shall occur to hinder that intention of its effect;” “the intention not to frustrate an existing intention.” The author thinks that “this second intention is included in the first:” but it is not necessarily so. It is the first intention, fortified by some additional motive which creates a special desire that this particular desire and intention should continue. It is another case of what the author never recognizes, the desire of a desire.

Intention, when we are said to intend the consequences of our actions, means the foresight, or expectation of those consequences; which is a totally different thing from desiring them. The particular consequences in question, though foreseen may be disagreeable to us: the act may be done for the sake of other consequences. Intention, and motive, are two very different things. But it is the intention, that is, the foresight of consequences, which constitutes the moral rightness or wrongness of the act. Which among the many consequences of a crime, are those, foresight of which constitutes guilt, and non-foresight entitles to acquittal, depends on the particular nature of the case. We may say generally, that it is the hurtful consequences. When the question arises judicially, we must say it is the consequences which the law intended to prevent. Reverting to the author’s illustration; a person who gives a drug to a patient, who dies in consequence, is not guilty (at least of intentional crime) if he expected good consequences, or no consequences at all, from its administration. He is guilty, if he expected that the consequence would be death; because that was the consequence which the legislator intended to prevent. He is guilty, even if he thought that the death of the patient would be a good to the world: because, though the law did not intend to prevent good to the world, it did intend to prevent persons from killing one another. Judged by a moral instead of a legal standard, the man may be innocent; or guilty of a different offence, that of not using his thinking faculty with sufficient calmness and impartiality, to perceive that in such a case as that of taking life, the general presumption of pernicious consequences ought to outweigh a particular person’s opinion that preponderant good consequences would be produced in the particular instance.—Ed.

402 Thus, then, the Exposition of the Human Mind, as far as the imperfection of the execution may allow the accomplishment to be predicated of the attempt, may be regarded as brought to its close. The phenomena which characterize man as a thinking Being, have been brought forward, have been carefully resolved into their component elements, and traced to certain general and undisputed laws. I should call this the THEORY of the Human Mind, if I could hope that the word would be understood in its original and literal meaning, that is, VIEWING or OBSERVING, AND CORRECTLY RECORDING THE MATTERS OBSERVED. This is the task, the execution of which 403 has been endeavoured throughout the preceding pages. But, unhappily, the word Theory has been perverted to denote an operation very different from this, an operation by which VIEWING—OBSERVING—is superseded; an operation which essentially consists in SUPPOSING, AND SETTING DOWN MATTERS SUPPOSED AS MATTERS OBSERVED. Theory, in fact, has been confounded with Hypothesis; and it is probably vain to think of restoring it to its proper signification.

If, however, the Theoretical, or Expository part of the Doctrine of the Human Mind were perfected; another great branch, the Practical (which, to be rationally founded, must be founded on the Theoretical) would still remain. This subject, it appears, might be conveniently treated in three Books:

I. The Book of Logic; containing the Practical Rules for conducting the mind in its search after Truth:

II. The Book of Ethics; or the Book of Rules for regulating the actions of human beings, so as to deduce from them the greatest amount of good, both to the actor himself, and to his fellow-creatures at large:

III. The Book of Education; or the Book of Rules, for training the Individual to the greatest excellence of his nature; that is, to the highest possible state of efficiency (ability and will included), as cause of good to himself, and to his species.

THE END.

LONDON:

SAVILL, EDWARDS AND CO., PRINTERS, CHANDOS STREET,

COVENT GARDEN.