Part 3

_J. D._ “The first day that I did read over T. H.’s defence of the necessity of all things, was April 20th, 1646. Which proceeded not out of any disrespect to him; for if all his discourses had been geometrical demonstrations, able not only to persuade, but also to compel assent, all had been one to me, first my journey, and afterwards some other trifles which we call business, having diverted me until then. And then my occasions permitting me, and an advertisement from a friend awakening me, I set myself to a serious examination of it. We commonly see those who delight in paradoxes, if they have line enough, confute themselves; and their speculatives and their practices familiarly interfere one with another. (_b_) The very first words of T. H.’s defence trip up the heels of his whole cause; ‘I had once resolved.’ To _resolve_ presupposeth deliberation. But what deliberation can there be of that which is inevitably determined by causes without ourselves, before we do deliberate? Can a condemned man deliberate whether he should be executed or not? It is even to as much purpose, as for a man to consult and ponder with himself whether he should draw in his breath, or whether he should increase in stature. Secondly, (_c_) to _resolve_ implies a man’s dominion over his own actions, and his actual determination of himself. But he who holds an absolute necessity of all things, hath quitted this dominion over himself; and (which is worse) hath quitted it to the second extrinsical causes, in which he makes all his actions to be determined. One may as well call again yesterday, as _resolve_ or newly determine that which is determined to his hand already. (_d_) I have perused this treatise, weighed T. H.’s answers, considered his reasons, and conclude that he hath missed, and misled the question, that the answers are evasions, that his arguments are paralogisms, that the opinion of absolute and universal necessity is but a result of some groundless and ill-chosen principles, and that the defect is not in himself, but that his cause will admit no better defence; and therefore, by his favour, I am resolved to adhere to my first opinion. Perhaps another man reading this discourse with other eyes, judgeth it to be pertinent and well-founded. How comes this to pass? The treatise is the same, the exterior causes are the same; yet the resolution is contrary. Do the second causes play fast and loose? Do they necessitate me to condemn, and necessitate him to maintain? What is it then? The difference must be in ourselves, either in our intellectuals, because the one sees clearer than the other; or in our affections, which betray our understandings, and produce an implicit adherence in the one more than in the other. Howsoever it be, the difference is in ourselves. The outward causes alone do not chain me to the one resolution, nor him to the other resolution. But T. H. may say, that our several and respective deliberations and affections are in part the causes of our contrary resolutions, and do concur with the outward causes to make up one total and adequate cause to the necessary production of this effect. If it be so, he hath spun a fair thread, to make all this stir for such a necessity as no man ever denied or doubted of. When all the causes have actually determined themselves, then the effect is in being; for though there be a priority in nature between the cause and the effect, yet they are together in time. And the old rule is, (_e_) ‘whatsoever is, when it is, is necessarily so as it is.’ This is no absolute necessity, but only upon supposition, that a man hath determined his own liberty. When we question whether all occurrences be necessary, we do not question whether they be necessary when they are, nor whether they be necessary _in sensu composito_, after we have resolved and finally determined what to do; but whether they were necessary before they were determined by ourselves, by or in the precedent causes before ourselves, or in the exterior causes without ourselves. It is not inconsistent with true liberty to determine itself, but it is inconsistent with true liberty to be determined by another without itself.

“T. H. saith further ‘that upon your Lordship’s desire and mine, he was contented to begin with this discourse of Liberty and Necessity,’ that is, to change his former resolution. (_f_) If the chain of necessity be no stronger, but that it may be snapped so easily insunder; if his will was no otherwise determined without himself, but only by the signification of your Lordship’s desire and my modest entreaty, then we may easily conclude that human affairs are not always governed by absolute necessity; that a man is lord of his own actions, if not in chief, yet in mean, subordinate to the Lord paramount of heaven and earth; and that all things are not so absolutely determined in the outward and precedent causes, but that fair entreaties and moral persuasions may work upon a good nature so far, as to prevent that which otherwise had been, and to produce that which otherwise had not been. He that can reconcile this with an antecedent necessity of all things, and a physical or natural determination of all causes, shall be great Apollo to me.

“Whereas T. H. saith that he had never uttered his opinion of this question, I suppose he intends in writing; my conversation with him hath not been frequent, yet I remember well that when this question was agitated between us two in your Lordship’s chamber by your command, he did then declare himself in words, both for the absolute necessity of all events, and for the ground of this necessity, the flux or concatenation of the second causes.”

ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. I.

(_a_) “The first day that I did read over T. H.’s defence of necessity,” &c.

His deferring the reading of my defence of necessity, he will not, he saith, should be interpreted for disrespect. ’Tis well; though I cannot imagine why he should fear to be thought to disrespect me. “He was diverted,” he saith, “by trifles called business.” It seems then he acknowledgeth that the will can be diverted by business. Which, though said on the _by_, is contrary I think to the main, that the will is free; for free it is not, if anything but itself can divert it.

(_b_) “The very first words of T. H.’s defence, trip up the heels of his whole cause, &c.”

How so? “I had once,” saith he, “resolved. To resolve presupposeth deliberation. But what deliberation can there be of that which is inevitably determined without ourselves?” There is no man doubts but a man may deliberate of what himself shall do, whether the thing be impossible or not, in case he know not of the impossibility; though he cannot deliberate of what another shall do to him. Therefore his examples of the man condemned, of the man that breatheth, and of him that groweth, because the question is not what they shall do, but what they shall suffer, are impertinent. This is so evident, that I wonder how he that was before so witty as to say, my first words tripped up the heels of my cause, and that having line enough I would confute myself, could presently be so dull as not to see his argument was too weak to support so triumphant a language. And whereas he seemeth to be offended with paradoxes, let him thank the Schoolmen, whose senseless writings have made the greatest number of important truths seem paradox.

(_c_) This argument that followeth is no better. “To resolve,” saith he, “implies a man’s dominion over his actions, and his actual determination of himself,” &c.

If he understand what it is _to resolve_, he knows that it signifies no more than after deliberation _to will_. He thinks, therefore, _to will_ is to have dominion over his own actions, and actually to determine his own will. But no man can determine his own will, for the will is appetite; nor can a man more determine his will than any other appetite, that is, more than he can determine when he shall be hungry and when not. When a man is hungry, it is in his choice to eat or not eat; this is the liberty of the man; but to be hungry or not hungry, which is that which I hold to proceed from necessity, is not in his choice. Besides these words, “dominion over his own actions,” and “determination of himself,” so far as they are significant, make against him. For over whatsoever things there is dominion, those things are not free, and therefore a man’s actions are not free; and if a man determine himself, the question will still remain, what determined him to determine himself in that manner.

(_d_) “I have perused this treatise, weighed T. H.’s answers, considered his reasons,” &c.

This and that which followeth, is talking to himself at random, till he come to allege that which he calleth an old rule, which is this: (_e_) “Whatsoever is, when it is, is necessarily so as it is. This is no absolute necessity, but only upon supposition that a man hath determined his own liberty,” &c.

If the bishop think that I hold no other necessity than that which is expressed in that old foolish rule, he neither understandeth me, nor what the word _necessary_ signifieth. _Necessary_ is that which is impossible to be otherwise, or that which cannot possibly otherwise come to pass. Therefore _necessary_, _possible_, and _impossible_ have no signification in reference to time past or time present, but only time to come. His _necessary_, and his _in sensu composito_, signify nothing; my _necessary_ is a necessary from all eternity; and yet not inconsistent with true liberty, which doth not consist in determining itself, but in doing what the will is determined unto. This “dominion over itself,” and this _sensus compositus_, and this, “determining itself,” and this, “necessarily is when it is,” are confused and empty words.

(_f_) “If the chain of necessity be no stronger but that it may be snapped so easily asunder, &c. by the signification of your lordship’s desire, and my modest entreaty, then we may safely conclude that human affairs,” &c.

Whether my Lord’s desire and the Bishop’s modest entreaty were enough to produce a _will_ in me to write an answer to his treatise, without other concurrent causes, I am not sure. Obedience to his Lordship did much, and my civility to the Bishop did somewhat, and perhaps there were other imaginations of mine own that contributed their part. But this I am sure of, that altogether they were sufficient to frame my will thereto; and whatsoever is sufficient to produce any thing, produceth it as necessarily as the fire necessarily burneth the fuel that is cast into it. And though the Bishop’s modest entreaty had been no part of the cause of my yielding to it, yet certainly it would have been cause enough to some civil man, to have requited me with fairer language than he hath done throughout this reply.

NO. II.

_T. H._ And first I assure your Lordship, I find in it no new argument, neither from Scripture nor from reason, that I have not often heard before, which is as much as to say, that I am not surprised.

_J. D._ (_a_) “Though I be so unhappy that I can present no novelty to T. H., yet I have this comfort, that if he be not surprised, then in reason I may expect a more mature answer from him; and where he fails, I may ascribe it to the weakness of his cause, not to want of preparation. But in this cause I like Epictetus’s counsel well, that (_b_) the sheep should not brag how much they have eaten, or what an excellent pasture they do go in, but shew it in their lamb and wool. Opposite answers and downright arguments advantage a cause. To tell what we have heard or seen is to no purpose. When a respondent leaves many things untouched, as if they were too hot for his fingers, and declines the weight of other things, and alters the true state of the question, it is a shrewd sign either that he hath not weighed all things maturely, or else that he maintains a desperate cause.”

ANIMADVERSIONS UPON HIS REPLY NO. II.

(_a_) “Though I be so unhappy that I can present no novelty to T. H. yet I have this comfort, that if he be not surprised, then in reason I may expect a more mature answer from him,” &c.

Though I were not surprised, yet I do not see the reason for which he saith he may expect a more mature answer from me; or any further answer at all. For seeing I wrote this at his modest request, it is no modest expectation to look for as many answers as he shall be pleased to exact.

(_b_) “The sheep should not brag how much they have eaten, but shew it in their lamb and wool.”

It is no great bragging, to say I was not surprised; for whosoever chanceth to read Suarez’s _Opuscula_, where he writeth of free-will and of the concourse of God with man’s will, shall find the greatest part, if not all, that the Bishop hath urged in this question. But that which the Bishop hath said of the reasons and authorities which he saith in his epistle do offer themselves to serve in this cause, and many other passages of his book, I shall, I think, before I have done with him, make appear to be very bragging, and nothing else. And though he say it be Epictetus’s counsel, that sheep should shew what they eat in their lamb and wool, it is not likely that Epictetus should take a metaphor from lamb and wool; for it could not easily come into the mind of men that were not acquainted with the paying of tithes. Or if it had, he would have said lambs in the plural, as laymen use to speak. That which follows of my leaving things untouched, and altering the state of the question; I remember no such thing, unless he require that I should answer, not to his arguments only, but also to his syllables.

NO. III.

_T. H._ The preface is a handsome one, but it appears even in that, that he hath mistaken the question; for whereas he says thus, “if I be free to write this discourse, I have obtained the cause,” I deny that to be true. For it is not enough to his freedom of writing that he had not written it, unless he would himself; if he will obtain the cause, he must prove that, before he wrote it, it was not necessary he should write it afterwards. It may be he thinks it all one to say, “I was free to write it,” and “it was not necessary I should write it.” But I think otherwise; for he is free to do a thing, that may do it if he have the will to do it, and may forbear if he have the will to forbear. And yet if there be a necessity that he shall have the will to do it, the action is necessarily to follow; and if there be a necessity that he shall have the will to forbear, the forbearing also will be necessary. The question, therefore, is not whether a man be a free agent, that is to say, whether he can write or forbear, speak or be silent, according to his will; but whether the will to write, and the will to forbear, come upon him according to his will, or according to any thing else in his own power. I acknowledge this liberty, that I can do if I will: but to say, I can will if I will, I take to be an absurd speech. Wherefore I cannot grant him the cause upon this preface.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Tacitus speaks of a close kind of adversaries, which evermore begin with a man’s praise. The crisis or the catastrophe of their discourse is when they come to their _but_; as, he is a good natured man, _but_ he hath a naughty quality; or, he is a wise man, _but_ he hath committed one of the greatest follies; so here, ‘the preface is a handsome one, but it appears even in this that he hath mistaken the question.’ This is to give an inch, that one may take away an ell without suspicion; to praise the handsomeness of the porch, that he may gain credit to the vilifying of the house. Whether of us hath mistaken the question, I refer to the judicious reader. (_a_) Thus much I will maintain, that that is no true necessity, which he calls necessity; nor that liberty, which he calls liberty; nor that the question, which he makes the question.

“First for liberty, that which he calls liberty, is no true liberty.

“For the clearing whereof, it behoveth us to know the difference between these three, _necessity_, _spontaneity_, and _liberty_.

“Necessity and spontaneity may sometimes meet together; so may spontaneity and liberty; but real necessity and true liberty can never meet together. Some things are necessary and not voluntary or spontaneous; some things are both necessary and voluntary; some things are voluntary and not free; some things are both voluntary and free; but those things which are truly necessary can never be free, and those things which are truly free can never be necessary. Necessity consists in an antecedent determination to one; spontaneity consists in a conformity of the appetite, either intellectual or sensitive, to the object; true liberty consists in the elective power of the rational will; that which is determined without my concurrence, may nevertheless agree well enough with my fancy or desires, and obtain my subsequent consent; but that which is determined without my concurrence or consent, cannot be the object of mine election. I may like that which is inevitably imposed upon me by another, but if it be inevitably imposed upon me by extrinsical causes, it is both folly for me to deliberate, and impossible for me to choose, whether I shall undergo it or not. Reason is the root, the fountain, the original of true liberty, which judgeth and representeth to the will, whether this or that be convenient, whether this or that be more convenient. Judge then what a pretty kind of liberty it is which is maintained by T. H., such a liberty as is in little children before they have the use of reason, before they can consult or deliberate of any thing. Is not this a childish liberty; and such a liberty as is in brute beasts, as bees and spiders, which do not learn their faculties as we do our trades, by experience and consideration? This is a brutish liberty, such a liberty as a bird hath to fly when her wings are clipped, or to use his own comparison, such a liberty as a lame man, who hath lost the use of his limbs, hath to walk. Is not this a ridiculous liberty? Lastly, (which is worse than all these), such a liberty as a river hath to descend down the channel. What! will he ascribe liberty to inanimate creatures also, which have neither reason, nor spontaneity, nor so much as sensitive appetite? Such is T. H.’s liberty.

(_b_) “His necessity is just such another, a necessity upon supposition, arising from the concourse of all the causes, including the last dictate of the understanding in reasonable creatures. The adequate cause and the effect are together in time, and when all the concurrent causes are determined, the effect is determined also, and is become so necessary that it is actually in being; but there is a great difference between determining, and being determined. If all the collateral causes concurring to the production of an effect, were antecedently determined what they must of necessity produce, and when they must produce it, then there is no doubt but the effect is necessary. (_c_) But if these causes did operate freely or contingently; if they might have suspended or denied their concurrence, or have concurred after another manner, then the effect was not truly and antecedently necessary, but either free or contingent. This will be yet clearer by considering his own instance of _casting ambs-ace_, though it partake more of contingency than of freedom. Supposing the positure of the parties’ hand who did throw the dice, supposing the figure of the table and of the dice themselves, supposing the measure of force applied, and supposing all other things which did concur to the production of that cast, to be the very same they were, there is no doubt but in this case the cast is necessary. But still this is but a necessity of supposition; for if all these concurrent causes, or some of them, were contingent or free, then the cast was not absolutely necessary. To begin with the caster, he might have denied his concurrence, and not have cast at all; he might have suspended his concurrence, and not have cast so soon; he might have doubled or diminished his force in casting, if it had pleased him; he might have thrown the dice into the other table. In all these cases what becomes of his _ambs-ace_? The like uncertainties offer themselves for the maker of the tables, and for the maker of the dice, and for the keeper of the tables, and for the kind of wood, and I know not how many other circumstances. In such a mass of contingencies, it is impossible that the effect should be antecedently necessary. T. H. appeals to every man’s experience. I am contented. Let every one reflect upon himself, and he shall find no convincing, much less constraining reason, to necessitate him to any one of these particular acts more than another, but only his own will or arbitrary determination. So T. H.’s necessity is no absolute, no antecedent, extrinsical necessity, but merely a necessity upon supposition.