Description de l'amour en general
The Nature of the Will and the Good
The will is inherently drawn to the good, which serves as its primary object and defining purpose.
So the will has so deep an affinity with the good that as soon as it perceives the good, it turns toward it to take delight in it, as in its most pleasing object—an object to which it is so closely bound that one cannot even declare the will's nature except by the relation it has to that good, any more than one could show the nature of the good except by its bond with the will.1 For tell me, Theotimus, what is the good if not what each person wants? And what is the will if not the faculty that carries us and makes us tend toward the good, or toward what it judges to be good?
The Anatomy of Love
Love unfolds in a series of movements—from affinity and pleasure to pursuit and union—much like a tree growing or a magnet drawing iron.
So the will, perceiving and feeling the good through the understanding that presents it, feels a sudden delight and pleasure in that encounter—a pleasure that moves and inclines it, gently yet powerfully, toward that lovable object so it might unite with it; and to reach that union, it makes the will seek every means best suited to the purpose. So the will has a very close affinity with the good; this affinity produces the pleasure the will feels in sensing and perceiving the good; this pleasure moves and drives the will toward the good; this movement tends toward union; and finally, the will, moved and tending toward union, seeks every means needed to reach it. Indeed, generally speaking, love encompasses all of this, like a fine tree whose root is the will's affinity with the good, whose base is the pleasure, and whose trunk is the movement; the seeking, the pursuits, and the other efforts are its branches, but union and enjoyment are its fruit.2 Love, therefore, seems to be composed of these five main parts, which contain a great many smaller pieces, as we will see further on in this work. Please consider how a love without sensation works between the magnet and the iron; for that is the true image of the insensible and voluntary love we are talking about.3 Iron has such an affinity for the magnet that as soon as it senses the magnet's power, it turns toward it. It suddenly begins to stir and quiver with little thrills, showing the pleasure it feels, and following that pleasure, it advances and moves toward the magnet, seeking every way it can to unite with it.4 Aren't all the parts of a living love well represented in these inanimate things?
Delight and the Movement of the Heart
While delight is the initial spark of love, the true essence of love is the active movement and outflow of the heart toward the beloved.
But in the end, Theotimus, delight and the movement or outflow of the will toward the lovable thing are, properly speaking, love—though in such a way that delight is only the beginning of love, and the movement or outflow of the heart that follows from it is the true, essential love.5 So both can truly be called love, but in different ways: for just as the dawn of day can be called day, so this first delight of the heart in the beloved thing can be called love, because it is the first feeling of love; but just as the true heart of the day is taken from the end of dawn until sunset, so the true essence of love consists in the movement and outflow of the heart that immediately follows delight and ends in union.6 In short, delight is the first stirring, or the first emotion, that the good produces in the will; this emotion is followed by the movement and outflow by which the will advances and draws near to the beloved thing—and that is true and proper love.7 Let's put it this way: the good seizes, grasps, and binds the heart by delight, but by love it draws, leads, and brings the heart to itself. By delight it makes the heart set out, but by love it makes the heart take the road and make the journey. Delight is the heart’s awakening, but love is its action; delight makes it rise, but love makes it walk; the heart spreads its wings by delight, but love is its flight. Love, then, to speak clearly and precisely, is nothing other than the movement, outflow, and advance of the heart toward the good. Several great figures have held that love is nothing other than delight itself, and in this they had a good deal of apparent reason; for not only does the movement of love take its origin from the delight the heart feels at the first encounter with the good, and end in a second delight that returns to the heart through union with the beloved, but beyond that, it draws its preservation from delight and can live only by it—delight being its mother and its nurse—so that as soon as delight ceases, love ceases.8 And just as a bee, born in honey, feeds on honey and flies only for honey, so love is born of delight, is sustained by delight, and moves toward delight. The weight of an object sets it in motion, moves it, and brings it to rest: it is a stone’s weight that gives it the impulse to fall as soon as obstacles are removed; it is that same weight that keeps it moving downward; and finally, it is that same weight that makes it stop and settle once it reaches its destination. It’s the same with the delight that stirs the will: it is delight that moves the will, and it is delight that makes the will rest in the beloved once it has been united to it. Since this movement of love depends on delight for its birth, preservation, and perfection, and is always found inseparably joined to it, it’s no wonder those great minds concluded that love and delight were one and the same—though in truth, because love is a genuine passion of the soul, it cannot be mere delight, but must be the movement that proceeds from it.
Complacence and Desire
Love manifests as 'complacence' when the good is present, and as 'desire' when the good is absent or distant.
Now this movement caused by complacence lasts until union or enjoyment.9 That is why, when it tends toward a present good, it does nothing but press the heart, draw it close, join it, and apply it to the thing loved, which it thereby enjoys; and then it is called love of complacence, because as soon as it is born from the first complacence, it ends in that second one, which it receives in union with its present object. But when the good toward which the heart has turned, inclined, and been moved is found distant, absent, or future, or when union cannot yet be made as perfectly as one intends, then the movement of love by which the heart tends, advances, and aspires toward that absent object is properly called desire; for desire is nothing other than the appetite, craving, or cupidity for things we do not have and that we nevertheless mean to have.10
The Nature of Velleity and Vain Wishes
Imperfect desires, known as velleities or wishes, occur when the will is hindered by impossibility or competing, stronger desires.
There are still certain movements of love where we desire things we neither expect nor in any way aim to have, like when we say: If only I were now in11 Paradise! I'd like to be a king; would to God I were younger; I wish I had never sinned—and things like that.12 These are desires, but they are imperfect ones that, it seems to me, are properly called wishes. In fact, such feelings aren't expressed the way real desires are; when we express our true desires, we say, 'I desire,' but when we express these imperfect ones, we say, 'I would desire' or 'I would like.' We can certainly say, 'I would like to be young,' but we wouldn't say, 'I desire to be young,' since that isn't possible. This movement is called a wish, or, as the Scholastics say, a velleity, which is nothing more than a beginning of willing that has no follow-through. Because the will sees that it cannot reach this object due to impossibility or extreme difficulty, it stops its movement and ends it in this simple affection of wishing, as if to say: 'This good that I see, which I cannot claim, is truly very pleasing to me; and although I cannot will it or hope for it, still, if I could will or desire it, I would gladly desire and want it.'13 In short, these wishes or velleities are nothing other than a small love that can be called a love of simple approval, because the soul approves of the good it knows without any claim, and, unable to desire it in practice, it declares that it would gladly desire it and that it truly is desirable. And that isn't everything, Theotimus, because there are desires and wishes even more imperfect than the ones we've just described. Their movement is stopped not by impossibility or extreme difficulty, but only by their incompatibility with other, stronger desires or acts of will—like when a sick man wants to eat pumpkins or melons, and even though he has them right there, he doesn't eat them because he's afraid of making his illness worse. After all, who can't see two desires in this man: one to eat the pumpkins, and the other to get well? But because the desire to get well is greater, it stifles and smothers the other, keeping it from producing any effect. Jephthah wanted to spare his daughter, but because that was incompatible with his desire to keep his vow, he willed what he didn't wish—to sacrifice his daughter—and wished what he didn't will—to spare her.14 Pilate and Herod wished to free them—one the Savior, the other the Forerunner—but because these wishes were incompatible, the one with the desire to please the Jews and Caesar, the other to please Herodias and her daughter, they were empty and useless wishes. Now, the less lovable the things incompatible with what is wished are, the more imperfect the wishes, since they are stopped and as good as smothered by such weak opposites: so Herod's wish not to put Saint John to death was more imperfect than the wish Pilate had to free Our Lord; for the latter feared the slander and indignation of the people and of Caesar, and the former feared only grieving a single woman.15 Wishes that aren't stopped by impossibility, but rather by their incompatibility with stronger desires, are truly called wishes and desires; yet they are vain wishes—smothered and useless.16 Regarding wishes for impossible things, we say, "I wish, but I cannot"; and regarding wishes for possible things, we say, "I wish, but I do not will it."17
Read the original Latin
La volonté donc a une si grande convenance avec le bien,que tout aussi tost qu'elle l'apperçoit elle se tourne de son costé pour se complaire en iceluy, comme en son objet tres aggreable,auquel elle est si estroittement alliee que mesme l'on ne peut declarer sa nature que par le rapport qu'elle a avec iceluy, non plus qu'on ne sçauroit monstrer la nature du bien que par l'alliance avec la volonté. Car, je vous prie, Theotime, qu'est ce que le bien sinon ce que chacun veut? et qu'est ce que la volonté sinon la faculté qui porte et fait tendre au bien, ou a ce qu'elle estime tel?
La volonté donques appercevant et sentant le bien par l'entremise de l'entendement qui le luy presente, ressent a mesme tems une soudaine delectation et complaisance en ce rencontre qui l'esmeut et incline, doucement mays puissamment, vers cet objet aymable, affin de s'unir a luy; et pour parvenir à cette union, elle luy fait chercher tous les moyens plus propres. La volonté donq a une convenance tres estroitte avec le bien; cette convenance produit la complaysance que la volonté ressent a sentir et appercevoir le bien;cette complaysance esmeut et pousse la volonté au bien; ce mouvement tend al'union, et en fin, la volonté esmeüe et tendante a l'union cherche tous les moyens requis pour yparvenir. Certes, a parler generalement, l'amour comprend tout cela ensemblement, comme un bel arbre,duquel la racine est la convenance, de la volonté au bien,le pied en est la complaysance, son tige c'est le mouvement; les recherches, poursuites et autres effortz en sont les branches, mais l'union et jouissance en est le fruit. Ainsy l'amour semble estre composé de ces cinq principales parties, sous lesquelles une quantité d'autres petites pieces sont contenues, comme nous verrons a la suite de l'oeuvre.
Considerons, de grace, la prattique d'un amour insensible entre l'aymant et le fer; car c'est la vraye image de l'amour insensible et volontaire duquel nous parlons. Le fer donques a une telle convenance avec l'aymant, qu'aussi tost qu'il en apperçoit la vertu il se retourne devers luy; puis il commence soudain a se remuer et demener par des petitz tressaillemens, tesmoignant en cela la complaisance qu'il ressent, en suite de laquelle il s'avance et se porte vers l'aymant, cherchant tous les moyens qu'il peut pour s'unir avec iceluy. Ne voila pas toutes les parties d'un vif amour bien representees en ces choses inanimees?
Mais en fin pourtant, Theotime, la complaysance et le mouvement ou escoulement de la volonté en la chose aymable est, a proprement parler, l'amour; en sorte neanmoins que la complaysance ne soit que le commencement de l'amour, et le mouvement ou escoulement du coeur qui s'en ensuit soit le vray amour essentiel. Si que l'un et l'autre peut estre voirement nomme amour, mais diversement: car, comme l'aube du jour peut estre appellee jour, aussi cette premiere complaisance du coeur en la chose aymee peut estre nommee amour; parce que c'est le premier ressentiment de l'amour; mais comme le vray coeur de jour se prend des la fin de l'aube jusques au soleil couché, aussi la vraye essence de l'amour consiste au mouvement et escoulement du coeur qui suit immediatement la complaysance et se termine a l'union. Bref la complaysance est le premier esbranlement ou la premiere esmotion que le bien fait en la volonté; et cette esmotion est suivie du mouvement et escoulement pas lequel la volonté s'avance et s'approche de la chose aymee, qui est le vray et propre amour. Disons ainsy: le bien empoigne,saisit et lie le coeur par la complaysance, mays par l'amour il le tire, conduit et amene a soy;par la complaysance il le fait sortir, mays par l'amour il luy fait faire le chemin et le voyage; la complaysance c'est le reveil du coeur, mays l'amour en est l'action;la complaysance le fait lever, mays l'amour le fait marcher; le coeur estend ses aisles par la complaysance,mais l'amour est son vol. L'amour donques, a parler distinctement et precisement,n'est autre chose que le mouvement, escoulement et avancement du coeur envers le bien.
Plusieurs grans personnages ont creu que l'amour n'estoit autre chose que la mesme complaysance, en quoy ilz ont eu beaucoup d'apparence de rayson; car non seulement le mouvement d'amour prend son origine de la complaysance que le coeur ressent a la premiere rencontre du bien, et aboutit a une seconde complaysance qui revient au coeur par l'union a la chose aymee, mais,outre cela, il tient sa conservation de la complaysance, et ne peut vivre que par elle,qui est sa mere et sa nourrice, si que soudain que la complaisance cesse, l'amour cesse. Et comme l'abeille naissant dedans le miel, se nourrit de miel et ne vole que pour le miel, ainsy l'amour naist de la complaysance, se maintient par la complaysance et tend a la complaysance. Le poids des choses les esbranle,les meut et les arrete: c'est le poids de la pierre qui luy donne l'esmotion et le bransle a la descente, soudain que les empeschemens luy sont ostés;c'est le mesme poids qui luy fait continuer son mouvement en bas; et c'est enfin le mesme poids encores qui la fait arrester et accoiser quand elle est arrivee en son lieu. Ainsy est ce de la complaysance qui esbranle la volonté;c'est elle qui la meut, et c'est elle qui la fait reposer en la chose aymee, quand elle s'est unie a icelle. Ce mouvement d'amour estant donq ainsy dependant de la complaysance, en sa naissance, conservation et perfection, et se treuvant tous-jours inseparablement conjoint avec icelle,ce n'est pas merveille si ces grans espritz ont estimé que l'amour et la complaisance fussent une mesme chose, bien qu'en verité,l'amour estant une vraye passion de l'ame, il ne peut estre la simple complaysance,mais il faut qu'il soit le mouvement qui procede d'icelle.
Or, ce mouvement causé par la complaysance dure jusques l'union ou jouissance. C'est pourquoy, quand il tend a un bien present il ne fait autre chose que de pousser le coeur, le serrer, joindre et appliquer a la chose aymee,de laquelle par ce moyen il jouit; et lhors on l'appelle amour de complaysance parce que soudain qu'il est né de la premiere complaysance, il se termine a l'autre seconde, qu'il reçoit en l'union de son objet present. Mais quand le bien devers lequel le coeur s'est retourné,incliné et esmeu, se treuve eloigné, absent ou futur, ou que l'union ne se peut pas encor faire si parfaitement qu'on pretend, alhors le mouvement d'amour par lequel le coeur tend, s'avance et aspire a cet objet absent, s'appelle proprement désir; car le desir n'est autre que l'appetit, convoitise ou cupidité des choses que nous n'avons pas, et que néanmoins nous pretendons d'avoir.
Il y a encor certains mouvemens d'amour par lesquelz nous desirons des choses que nous n'attendons ni pretendons nullement, comme quand nous disons: Que ne suis-je maintenant en
Paradis! je voudrais estre roy; pleust a Dieu que je fusse plus jeune; a la mienne volonté que je n'eusse jamais peché, et semblables choses. Or, ce sont des desirs, mais desirs imparfaitz lesquelz, ce me semble, a proprement parler s'appellent souhaitz: et de fait, telles affections ne s'expriment pas comme les desirs; car quand nous exprimons nos vrays desirs, nous disons: je desire; mays quand nous exprimons nos desirs imparfaitz, nous disons: je desirerois, ou, je voudrais. Nous pouvons bien dire: je desirerois d'estre jeune, mais nous ne dirons pas: je desire d'estre jeune,puisque cela n'est pas possible. Et ce mouvement s'appelle souhait, ou, comme disent les Scholastiques, velleité, qui n'est autre chose qu'un commencement de vouloir lequel n'a point de suite; d'autant que la volonté voyant qu'elle ne peut atteindre cet objet a cause de l'impossibilité ou de l'extreme difficulté,elle arreste son mouvement et le termine en cette simple affection de souhait,comme si elle disoit: Ce bien que je voy et auquel je ne puis pretendre, m'est a la verité fort aggreable; et bien que je ne le puis vouloir ni esperer, si est ce que,si je le pouvois vouloir ou desirer, je le desirerois et voudrois volontier. Bref,ces souhaitz ou velleités ne sont autre chose qu'un petit amour qui se peut appeller amour de simple approbation, parce que, sans aucune pretention, l'ame aggree le bien qu'elle connoist,et,ne le pouvant desirer en effect, elle proteste qu'elle le desireroit volontier et que vrayement il est desirable.
Ce n'est pas encor tout, Theotime, car il y a des desirs et souhaits qui sont encor plus imparfaitz que ceux que nous venons de dire, d'autant que leur mouvement n'est pas arresté par l'impossibilité ou extreme difficulté, mais par la seule incompatibilité qu'ilz ont avec des autres desirs ou vouloirs plus puissans; comme quand un malade desire de manger des potirons ou melons, et quoy qu'il en ait a son commandement, il ne veut neanmoins pas en manger, parce qu'il craint d'empirer son mal:car qui ne void deux desirs en cet homme, l'un de manger des potirons, et l'autre de guerir? mays parce que celuy de guerir est plus grand, il estouffe et suffoque l'autre, l'empeschant de produire aucun effect. Jephté souhaitoit de conserver sa fille, mays parce que cela estoit incompatible avec le desir d'observer son voeu,il voulut ce qu'il ne souhaitoit pas;qui estoit de sacrifier sa fille, et souhaita ce qu'il ne voulut pas;qui estoit de conserver sa fille. Pilate et Herodes souhaitoyent de delivrer, l'un le Sauveur, l'autre le Precurseur; mais parce que ces souhaitz estoyent incompatibles, l'un avec le desir de complaire aux Juifz et a Cesar, l'autre a Herodias et a sa fille, ce furent des souhaitz vains et inutiles. Or, a mesure que les choses incompatibles avec ce qui est souhaité sont moins aymables,les souhaitz sont plus imparfaitz, puisqu'ilz sont arrestés et comme estouffés par des si foibles contraires: ainsy le souhait que Herodes eut de ne point faire mourir saint Jean fut plus imparfait que celuy que Pilate avoit de delivrer Nostre Seigneur; car celuy ci craignoit la calomnie et l'indignation du peuple et de Cesar,et celuy la de contrister une seule femme.
Et ces souhaitz qui sont arrestés non point par l'impossibilité mais par l'incompatibité qu'ilz ont avec des plus puissans desirs, s'appellent voirement souhaitz et desirs, mais souhaitz vains, suffoqués et inutiles. Selon les souhaits des choses impossibles, nous disons: je souhaite,mais je ne puis; et selon les souhaits des choses possibles, nous disons: je souhaite, mais je ne veux pas.
Notes
- 1 ↩Early modern French convenance here means natural fitness/affinity/correspondence of the will to the good, not social propriety.
- 2 ↩French pied names the tree's lower stock or foot (between root and trunk); rendered as foot to keep the botanical image intact.
- 3 ↩Insensible (insensible) here means without sense-perception: the magnet–iron attraction is unfeeling, and it images the will's voluntary love as distinct from sense-appetite.
- 4 ↩Convenance rendered as affinity (natural fitness/correspondence). Complaisance rendered as pleasure (the will's delighted taking-pleasure in the good), matching the chapter's technical sequence: affinity → pleasure → movement → union.
- 5 ↩French complaysance is Sales’s technical term for the will’s first taking-pleasure-in a good; rendered here as “delight,” not modern self-satisfaction.
- 6 ↩ressentiment here means the first sensing/feeling of love, not modern “resentment.”
- 7 ↩Source reads “pas lequel”; translated as “par lequel” (“by which”), the only reading that yields sense.
- 8 ↩French complaysance/complaisance is Sales’s technical term for the will’s taking-pleasure-in a good; rendered as “delight,” not modern self-satisfaction.
- 9 ↩complaysance: rendered as 'complacence' (not modern pejorative 'complacency') for the technical Salesian sense of the heart's delighted satisfaction in a perceived good, which the previous section distinguishes from love itself.
- 10 ↩appetit, convoitise ou cupidité: here descriptive of appetitive motion toward an absent good, not necessarily moral vice; 'craving' and 'cupidity' keep the source's triple ladder without modern pejorative overreach.
- 11 ↩The printed section ends mid-clause on «en»; the following section opens with «Paradis!», completing the exclamation as «Que ne suis-je maintenant en Paradis!» (If only I were now in Paradise!).
- 12 ↩« à la mienne volonté » is an early modern French wish-formula (roughly 'if it were as I would have it' / 'I wish'); rendered as plain 'I wish' for contemporary cadence.
- 13 ↩« velleité » is kept as the scholastic technical term (velleity): a weak or incomplete act of will that does not pass into full volition.
- 14 ↩The French contrasts vouloir (to will/choose effectively) with souhaiter (to wish without full effective choice). The translation keeps that will/wish distinction, which is the point of the example.
- 15 ↩French celuy ci / celuy la is rendered latter / former: Pilate feared the people and Caesar; Herod feared displeasing one woman (Herodias).
- 16 ↩Source spelling incompatibité read as incompatibilité (incompatibility), matching the chapter's established term.
- 17 ↩je ne veux pas preserves Sales’s technical contrast between souhait (wish) and vouloir (will/choice), not mere everyday “don’t want to.”
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