Part 24

(_p_) “His other objection against this distinction of the acts of the will into _elicit_ and _imperate_, is obscurity. ‘Might it not,’ saith he, ‘have been as easily said in English, _a voluntary action_?’ Yes it might have been said as easily, but not as truly, nor as properly.” He says, _actus imperatus_ is when a man opens or shuts his eyes at the command of the will. I say, when a man opens and shuts his eyes according to his will, that it is a voluntary action; and I believe we mean one and the same thing. Whether of us speak more properly or more truly, let the reader judge.

(_q_) “But his mistakes are so thick, &c., I will do my duty to shew him the right way. First, no acts which are properly said to be compelled, are voluntary. Secondly, acts of terror, &c.” This is nothing but Tohu and Bohu.

NO. XXI.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “The rest are umbrages quickly dispelled. First, the astrologer steps up, and subjects liberty to the motions of heaven, to the aspects and ascensions of the stars:

----Plus etenim fati valet hora benigni, Quam si nos Veneris commendet epistola Marti.

“I stand not much upon them, who cannot see the fishes swimming beside them in the rivers, yet believe they see those which are in heaven; who promise great treasures to others, and beg a groat for themselves. The stars at the most do but incline, they cannot necessitate.

“Secondly, the physician subjects liberty to the complexion and temperature of the body. But yet this comes not home to a necessity. Socrates, and many others, by assiduous care have corrected the pernicious propensions, which flowed from their temperatures.”

_T. H._ In the rest of his discourse he reckoneth up the opinions of certain professions of men, touching the causes wherein the necessity of things, which they maintain, consisteth. And first, he saith, the astrologer deriveth his necessity from the stars. Secondly, that the physician attributeth it to the temper of the body. For my part, I am not of their opinion; because neither the stars alone, nor the temperature of the patient alone is able to produce any effect without the concurrence of all other agents. For there is hardly any one action, how casual soever it seem, to the causing whereof concur not whatsoever is _in rerum natura_. Which, because it is a great paradox, and depends on many antecedent speculations, I do not press in this place.

_J. D._ “Towards the latter end of my discourse, I answered some specious pretences against liberty. The two first were of the astrologer and the physician: the one subjecting liberty to the motions and influences of the heavenly bodies; the other to the complexions of men. (_a_) The sum of my answer was, that the stars and complexions do incline, but not at all necessitate the will: to which all judicious astronomers and physicians do assent. And T. H. himself doth not dissent from it. So as to this part, there needs no reply.

(_b_) “But whereas he mentions a ‘great paradox of his own, that there is hardly any one action to the causing of which concurs not whatsoever is _in rerum natura_’; I can but smile to see with what ambition our great undertakers do affect to be accounted the first founders of strange opinions, as if the devising of an ill-grounded paradox were as great an honour as the invention of the needle, or the discovery of the new world. And as to this paradox in particular, I meddle not with natural actions, because the subject of my discourse is moral liberty. But if he intend not only the kinds of things, but every individual creature, and not only in natural but voluntary actions, I desire to know how Prester John, or the great Mogul, or the king of China, or any one of so many millions of their subjects, do concur to my writing of this reply. If they do not, among his other speculations concerning this matter I hope he will give us some restrictions. It were hard to make all the negroes accessary to all the murders that are committed in Europe.”

ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XXI.

There is not much in this part of his reply that needeth animadversion. But I must observe, where he saith, (_a_) “the sum of my answer was, that the stars and complexions do incline, but not at all necessitate the will:” he answereth nothing at all to me, who attribute not the necessitation of the will to the stars and complexions, but to the aggregate of all things together that are in motion. I do not say, that the stars or complexions of themselves do incline men to will; but when men are inclined, I must say that that inclination was necessitated by some causes or other.

(_b_) “But whereas he mentions ‘a great paradox of his own; that there is hardly any one action, to the causing of which concurs not whatsoever is _in rerum natura_’; I can but smile to see with what ambition our great undertakers do affect to be accounted the first founders of strange opinions, &c.” The Bishop speaks often of paradoxes with such scorn or detestation, that a simple reader would take a paradox either for felony or some other heinous crime, or else for some ridiculous turpitude; whereas perhaps a judicious reader knows what the word signifies; and that a paradox, is an opinion not yet generally received. Christian religion was once a paradox; and a great many other opinions which the Bishop now holdeth, were formerly paradoxes. Insomuch as when a man calleth an opinion a paradox, he doth not say it is untrue, but signifieth his own ignorance; for if he understood it, he would call it either a truth or an error. He observes not, that but for paradoxes we should be now in that savage ignorance, which those men are in that have not, or have not long had laws and commonwealth, from whence proceedeth science and civility. There was not long since a scholar that maintained, that if the least thing that had weight should be laid down upon the hardest body that could be, supposing it an anvil of diamant, it would at the first access make it yield. This I thought, and much more the Bishop would have thought, a paradox. But when he told me, that either that would do it, or all the weight of the world would not do it, because if the whole weight did it, every the least part thereof would do its part, I saw no reason to dissent. In like manner when I say, ‘there is hardly any one action to the causing of which concurs not whatsoever is _in rerum natura_;’ it seems to the Bishop a great paradox; and if I should say that all action is the effect of motion, and that there cannot be a motion in one part of the world, but the same must also be communicated to all the rest of the world, he would say that this were no less a paradox. But yet if I should say, that if a lesser body, as a concave sphere or tun, were filled with air, or other liquid matter, and that any one little particle thereof were moved, all the rest would be moved also, he would conceive it to be true, or if not he, a judicious reader would. It is not the greatness of the tun that altereth the case; and therefore the same would be true also, if the whole world were the tun; for it is the greatness of this tun that the Bishop comprehendeth not. But the truth is comprehensible enough, and may be said without ambition of being the founder of strange opinions. And though a grave man may smile at it, he that is both grave and wise will not.

NO. XXII.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Thirdly, the moral philosopher tells us how we are haled hither and thither with outward objects. To this I answer, “First, that the power which outward objects have over us, is for the most part by our own default, because of those vicious habits which we have contracted. Therefore though the actions seem to have a kind of violence in them, yet they were free and voluntary in their first originals. As a paralytic man, to use Aristotle’s comparison, shedding the liquor deserves to be punished, for though his act be unwilling, yet his intemperance was willing, whereby he contracted this infirmity.

“Secondly I answer, that concupiscence, and custom, and bad company, and outward objects do indeed make a proclivity, but not a necessity. By prayers, tears, meditations, vows, watchings, fastings, humi-cubations, a man may get a contrary habit, and gain the victory, not only over outward objects, but also over his own corruptions, and become the king of the little world of himself.

Si metuis, si prava cupis, si duceris irâ, Servitii patiere jugum, tolerabis iniquas Interius leges. Tunc omnia jure tenebis, Cum poteris rex esse tui.

“Thirdly, a resolved mind, which weighs all things judiciously and provides for all occurrences, is not so easily surprised with outward objects. Only Ulysses wept not at the meeting with his wife and son. I would beat thee, said the philosopher, but that I am angry. One spake lowest, when he was most moved. Another poured out the water, when he was thirsty. Another made a covenant with his eyes. Neither opportunity nor enticement could prevail with Joseph. Nor the music nor the fire, with the three children. It is not the strength of the wind, but the lightness of the chaff, which causeth it to be blown away. Outward objects do not impose a moral, much less a physical necessity; they may be dangerous, but cannot be destructive to true liberty.”

_T. H._ Thirdly, he disputeth against the opinion of them that say, external objects presented to men of such and such temperatures, do make their actions necessary; and says, the power, that such objects have over us, proceeds from our own fault. But that is nothing to the purpose, if such fault of ours proceedeth from causes not in our own power. And therefore that opinion may hold true, for all this answer. Further, he saith, prayer, fasting, &c., may alter our habits. It is true: but when they do so, they are causes of the contrary habit, and make it necessary; as the former habit had been necessary, if prayer, fasting, &c., had not been. Besides we are not moved, nor disposed to prayer or any other action, but by outward objects, as pious company, godly preachers, or something equivalent. In the next place he saith, a resolved mind is not easily surprised. As the mind of Ulysses, who, when others wept, he alone wept not. And of the philosopher that abstained from striking, because he found himself angry. And of him that poured out the water, when he was thirsty; and the like. Such things I confess have, or may have been done; and do prove only that it was not necessary for Ulysses then to weep, nor for the philosopher to strike, nor for that other man to drink: but it does not prove that it was not necessary for Ulysses then to abstain, as he did, from weeping; nor the philosopher to abstain, as he did, from striking; nor the other man to forbear drinking. And yet that was the thing he ought to have proved.

Lastly, he confesseth that the disposition of objects may be dangerous to liberty, but cannot be destructive. To which I answer, it is impossible; for liberty is never in any other danger than to be lost. And if it cannot be lost, which he confesseth, I may infer it can be in no danger at all.

_J. D._ (_a_) “The third pretence was out of moral philosophy misunderstood, that outward objects do necessitate the will. I shall not need to repeat what he hath omitted, but only to satisfy his exceptions. (_b_) The first is, that ‘it is not material, ’though the power of outward objects do proceed from our own faults, if such faults of ours proceed not from causes in our own power’. Well, but what if they do proceed from causes that are in our own power, as in truth they do? Then his answer is a mere subterfuge. If our faults proceed from causes that are not, and were not in our own power, then they are not our faults at all. It is not a fault in us, not to do those things which never were in our power to do: but they are the faults of these causes from whence they do proceed. (_c_) Next he confesseth, that it is in our power, by good endeavours, to alter those vicious habits which we had contracted, and to get the contrary habit. ‘True,’ saith he, ‘but then the contrary habit doth necessitate the one way, as well as the former habit did the other way.’ By which very consideration it appears, that that which he calls a necessity, is no more but a proclivity. If it were a true necessity, it could not be avoided nor altered by our endeavours. The truth is, acquired habits do help and assist the faculty; but they do not necessitate the faculty. He who hath gotten to himself an habit of temperance, may yet upon occasion commit an intemperate act. And so on the contrary. Acts are not opposed to habits, but other habits. (_d_) He adds, ‘that we are not moved to prayer or any other action, but by outward objects, as pious company, godly preachers, or something equivalent’. Wherein are two other mistakes: first, to make godly preachers and pious company to be outward objects; which are outward agents: secondly, to affirm that the will is not moved but by outward objects. The will is moved by itself, by the understanding, by the sensitive passions, by angels good and bad, by men; and most effectually by acts or habits infused by God, whereby the will is excited extraordinarily indeed, but efficaciously and determinately. This is more than equivalent with outward objects.

“Another branch of mine answer was, that a resolved and prepared mind is able to resist both the appetibility of objects, and the unruliness of passions: as I showed by example. (_e_) He answers, that I prove Ulysses was not necessitated to weep, nor the philosopher to strike; but I do not prove that they were not necessitated to forbear. He saith true. I am not now proving, but answering. Yet my answer doth sufficiently prove that which I intend; that the rational will hath power, both to slight the most appetible objects, and to control the most unruly passions. When he hath given a clear solution to those proofs which I have produced, then it will be time for him to cry for more work.

“Lastly, whereas I say, that outward objects may be dangerous, but cannot be destructive to true liberty; he catcheth at it, (_f_) and objects, that ‘liberty is in no danger but to be lost; but I say it cannot be lost, therefore’, he infers that, ‘it is in no danger at all.’ I answer, first, that liberty is in more danger to be abused, than to be lost. Many more men do abuse their wits, than lose them. Secondly, liberty is in danger likewise to be weakened or diminished; as when it is clogged by vicious habits contracted by ourselves, and yet it is not totally lost. Thirdly, though liberty cannot be totally lost out of the world, yet it may be totally lost to this or that particular man, as to the exercise of it. Reason is the root of liberty; and though nothing be more natural to a man than reason, yet many by excess of study, or by continual gormandizing, or by some extravagant passion which they have cherished in themselves, or by doting too much upon some affected object, do become very sots, and deprive themselves of the use of reason, and consequently of liberty. And when the benefit of liberty is not thus universally lost, yet it may be lost respectively to this or that particular occasion. As he who makes choice of a bad wife, hath lost his former liberty to choose a good one.”

ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XXII.

(_a_) “The third pretence was out of moral philosophy misunderstood, that outward objects do necessitate the will.” I cannot imagine how the question, whether outward objects do necessitate or not necessitate the will, can any way be referred to moral philosophy. The principles of moral philosophy are the laws; wherewith outward objects have little to do, as being for the most part inanimate, and which follow always the force of nature without respect to moral laws. Nor can I conceive what purpose he had to bring this into his reply to my answer, wherein I attribute nothing in the action of outward objects to morality.

(_b_) “His first exception is, that ‘it is not material that the power of outward objects do proceed from our own faults, if such faults of ours proceed not from causes in our own power’. Well, but what if they do proceed from causes that are in our own power, as in truth they do? Then his answer is a mere subterfuge.” But how proves he that in truth they do? ‘Because else,’ saith he, ‘they are not our faults at all.’ Very well reasoned. A horse is lame from a cause that was not in his power: therefore the lameness is no fault in the horse. But his meaning is, it is no injustice unless the causes were in his own power. As if it were not injustice, whatsoever is willingly done against the law; whatsoever it be, that is the cause of the will to do it.

(_c_) “Next he confesseth, that it is in our power by good endeavours to alter those vicious habits which we had contracted, and to get the contrary habits.” There is no such confession in my answer. I said, prayer, fasting, &c., may alter our habits. But I never said that the will to pray, fast, &c. is in our own power. “‘True,’ saith he, ‘but then the contrary habit doth necessitate the one way, as well as the former habit did the other way.’ By which very consideration it appears, that that which he calls a necessity, is no more but a proclivity. If it were a true necessity, it could not be avoided, nor altered by our endeavours.” Again he mistakes: for I said that prayer, fasting, &c. when they alter our habits, do necessarily cause the contrary habits; which is not to say, that the habit necessitates, but is necessitated. But this is common with him, to make me say that which out of reading, not out of meditation, he useth to say himself. But how doth it appear, that prayer and fasting, &c. make but a proclivity in men to do what they do? For if it were but a proclivity, then what they do they do not. Therefore they either necessitate the will, or the will followeth not. I contend for the truth of this only, that when the will followeth them, they necessitate the will; and when a proclivity followeth, they necessitate the proclivity. But the Bishop thinks I maintain, that that also is produced necessarily, which is not produced at all.

(_d_) “He adds, ‘that we are not moved to prayer or any other action, but by outward objects, as pious company, and godly preachers, or something equivalent’. Wherein are two other mistakes: first, to make godly preachers and pious company to be outward objects, which are outward agents; secondly, to affirm that the will is not moved but by outward objects. The will is moved by itself, &c”. The first mistake, he urgeth that I call preachers and company objects. Is not the preacher to the hearer the object of his hearing? No, perhaps he will say, it is the voice which is the object; and that we hear not the preacher, but his voice; as before he said, the object of sight was not the cause of sight. I must therefore once more make him smile with a great paradox, which is this; that in all the senses, the object is the agent; and that it is, when we hear a preacher, the preacher that we hear; and that his voice is the same thing with the hearing and a fancy in the hearer, though the motion of the lips and other organs of speech be his that speaketh. But of this I have written more largely in a more proper place.

My second mistake, in affirming that the will is not moved but by outward objects, is a mistake of his own. For I said not, the will is not moved, but we are not moved: for I always avoid attributing motion to any thing but body. The will is produced, generated, formed, and created in such sort as accidents are effected in a corporeal subject; but moved it cannot be, because it goeth not from place to place. And whereas he saith, “the will is moved by itself,” if he had spoken properly as he ought to do, and said, the will is made or created by itself, he would presently have acknowledged that it was impossible. So that it is not without cause men use improper language, when they mean to keep their errors from being detected. And because nothing can move that is not itself moved, it is untruly said that either the will or any thing else is moved by itself, by the understanding, by the sensitive passions, or by acts or habits; or that acts or habits are infused by God. For infusion is motion, and nothing is moved but bodies.

(_e_) “He answers, that I prove Ulysses was not necessitated to weep, nor the philosopher to strike, but I do not prove that they were not necessitated to forbear. He saith true; I am not now proving, but answering.” By his favour, though he be answering now, he was proving then. And what he answers now, maketh nothing more toward a proof than was before. For these words, “the rational will hath power to slight the most appetible objects, and to control the most unruly passions,” are no more, being reduced into proper terms, than this: the appetite hath power to be without appetite towards most appetible objects, and to will contrary to the most unruly will; which is jargon.