haracter and
the external circumstances under the influence of which he will fall;
and it may with complete certainty be foretold from this alone. Nay,
it is a very easy prophecy if he has been already seen in a like
position; for he will inevitably do the same thing a second time,
provided that on the first occasion he had a true and complete
knowledge of the facts of the case. For, as I have often remarked, a
final cause does not impel a man by being real, but by being known;
_causa finalis non movet secundum suum esse reale, sed secundum esse
cognitum_.[1] Whatever he failed to recognise or understand the first
time could have no influence upon his will; just as an electric
current stops when some isolating body hinders the action of the
conductor. This unalterable nature of character, and the consequent
necessity of our actions, are made very clear to a man who has not,
on any given occasion, behaved as he ought to have done, by showing
a lack either of resolution or endurance or courage, or some other
quality demanded at the moment. Afterwards he recognises what it is
that he ought to have done; and, sincerely repenting of his incorrect
behaviour, he thinks to himself, _If the opportunity were offered to
me again, I should act differently_. It is offered once more; the same
occasion recurs; and to his great astonishment he does precisely the
same thing over again.[2]

[Footnote 1: Suarez, _Disp. Metaph_., xxiii.; Sec.Sec.7 and 8.]

[Footnote 2: Cf. _World as Will_, ii., pp. 251 ff. _sqq_. (third
edition).]

The best examples of the truth in question are in every way furnished
by Shakespeare's plays. It is a truth with which he was thoroughly
imbued, and his intuitive wisdom expressed it in a concrete shape on
every page. I shall here, however, give an instance of it in a case in
which he makes it remarkably clear, without exhibiting any design or
affectation in the matter; for he was a real artist and never set
out from general ideas. His method was obviously to work up to the
psychological truth which he grasped directly and intuitively,
regardless of the fact that few would notice or understand it, and
without the smallest idea that some dull and shallow fellows in
Germany would one day proclaim far and wide that he wrote his works to
illustrate moral commonplaces. I allude to the character of the Earl
of Northumberland, whom we find in three plays in succession, although
he does not take a leading part in an