sometimes with the utmost rapidity, he is not a free agent for a single
instant; the good or the evil which he believes he finds successively in
the objects, are the necessary motives of these momentary wills; of the
rapid motion of desire or fear that he experiences as long as his
uncertainty continues. From this it will be obvious, that deliberation
is necessary; that uncertainty is necessary; that whatever part he
takes, in consequence of this deliberation, it will always necessarily
be that which he has judged, whether well or ill, is most probable to
turn to his advantage.

When the soul is assailed by two motives that act alternately upon it,
or modify it successively, it deliberates; the brain is in a sort of
equilibrium, accompanied with perpetual oscillations, sometimes towards
one object, sometimes towards the other, until the most forcible carries
the point, and thereby extricates it, from this state of suspense, in
which consists the indecision of his will. But when the brain is
simultaneously assailed by causes equally strong, that move it in
opposite directions; agreeable to the general law of all bodies, when
they are struck equally by contrary powers, it stops, it is in _nisu_;
it is neither capable to will nor to act; it waits until one of the two
causes has obtained sufficient force to overpower the other, to
determine its will, to attract it in such a manner that it may prevail
over the efforts of the other cause.

This mechanism, so simple, so natural, suffices to demonstrate, why
uncertainty is painful; why suspense is always a violent state for man.
The brain, an organ so delicate, so mobile, experiences such rapid
modifications, that it is fatigued; or when it is urged in contrary
directions, by causes equally powerful, it suffers a kind of
compression, that prevents the activity which is suitable to the