The truly holy person, therefore, ought to be able to say specifically, at all times, that he wills as God wills. It is due both to his happiness and his safety to be able to know, and on proper occasions to assert, the union of the two wills. If there is a separation of wills, even if it be a slight one, there will be likely to be something out of position somewhere else. A separation of wills is a separation of natures. As the will is, so is the man, either for God or against him. It is as true in philosophy as religion, that it is impossible to serve God and Mammon at the same time.
It may be asked, perhaps, what view are we to take of ourselves when we do not will at all. The answer to such a question is not difficult, because we can hardly ever be said to be in that state. Our whole life, with the exception of purely involuntary states, may be represented by two terms, action and inaction. Neither of these states can exist without volition as its basis. If we act, we will to act; if we are in a state of inaction, we will not to act. Whatever state we are in as moral agents, and not as mere involuntary agents, whether it be characterized as action or inaction, we will to be in it. So that we may, without impropriety, speak of the action of the will as perpetual. Perpetual action implies the obligation of perpetual harmony.
— from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 5, Chapter 4.