OF POWER.
1. This Idea how got.
The mind being every day informed, by the senses, of the alteration of
those simple ideas it observes in things without; and taking notice how
one comes to an end, and ceases to be, and another begins to exist
which was not before; reflecting also on what passes within itself, and
observing a constant change of its ideas, sometimes by the impression
of outward objects on the senses, and sometimes by the determination of
its own choice; and concluding from what it has so constantly observed
to have been, that the like changes will for the future be made in the
same things, by like agents, and by the like ways,—considers in one
thing the possibility of having any of its simple ideas changed, and in
another the possibility of making that change; and so comes by that
idea which we call POWER. Thus we say, Fire has a power to melt gold,
i. e. to destroy the consistency of its insensible parts, and
consequently its hardness, and make it fluid; and gold has a power to
be melted; that the sun has a power to blanch wax, and wax a power to
be blanched by the sun, whereby the yellowness is destroyed, and
whiteness made to exist in its room. In which, and the like cases, the
power we consider is in reference to the change of perceivable ideas.
For we cannot observe any alteration to be made in, or operation upon
anything, but by the observable change of its sensible ideas; nor
conceive any alteration to be made, but by conceiving a change of some
of its ideas.
2. Power, active and passive.
Power thus considered is two-fold, viz. as able to make, or able to
receive any change. The one may be called ACTIVE, and the other PASSIVE
power. Whether matter be not wholly destitute of active power, as its
author, God, is truly above all passive power; and whether the
intermediate state of created spirits be not that alone which is
capable of both active and passive power, may be worth consideration. I
shall not now enter into that inquiry, my present business being not to
search into the original of power, but how we come by the IDEA of it.
But since active powers make so great a part of our complex ideas of
natural substances, (as we shall see hereafter,) and I mention them as
such, according to common apprehension; yet they being not, perhaps, so
truly ACTIVE powers as our hasty thoughts are apt to represent them, I
judge it not amiss, by this intimation, to direct our minds to the
consideration of God and spirits, for the clearest idea of ACTIVE
power.
3. Power includes Relation.
I confess power includes in it some kind of RELATION (a relation to
action or change,) as indeed which of our ideas of what kind soever,
when attentively considered, does not. For, our ideas of extension,
duration, and number, do they not all contain in them a secret relation
of the parts? Figure and motion have something relative in them much
more visibly. And sensible qualities, as colours and smells, &c. what
are they but the powers of different bodies, in relation to our
perception, &c.? And, if considered in the things themselves, do they
not depend on the bulk, figure, texture, and motion of the parts? All
which include some kind of relation in them. Our idea therefore of
power, I think, may well have a place amongst other SIMPLE IDEAS, and
be considered as one of them; being one of those that make a principal
ingredient in our complex ideas of substances, as we shall hereafter
have occasion to observe.
4. The clearest Idea of active Power had from Spirit.
Of passive power all sensible things abundantly furnish us with
sensible ideas, whose sensible qualities and beings we find to be in
continual flux. And therefore with reason we look on them as liable
still to the same change. Nor have we of ACTIVE power (which is the
more proper signification of the word power) fewer instances. Since
whatever change is observed, the mind must collect a power somewhere
able to make that change, as well as a possibility in the thing itself
to receive it. But yet, if we will consider it attentively, bodies, by
our senses, do not afford us so clear and distinct an idea of active
power, as we have from reflection on the operations of our minds. For
all power relating to action, and there being but two sorts of action
whereof we have an idea, viz. thinking and motion, let us consider
whence we have the clearest ideas of the powers which produce these
actions. (1) Of thinking, body affords us no idea at all; it is only
from reflection that we have that. (2) Neither have we from body any
idea of the beginning of motion. A body at rest affords us no idea of
any active power to move; and when it is set in motion itself, that
motion is rather a passion than an action in it. For, when the ball
obeys the motion of a billiard-stick, it is not any action of the ball,
but bare passion. Also when by impulse it sets another ball in motion
that lay in its way, it only communicates the motion it had received
from another, and loses in itself so much as the other received: which
gives us but a very obscure idea of an ACTIVE power of moving in body,
whilst we observe it only to TRANSFER, but not PRODUCE any motion. For
it is but a very obscure idea of power which reaches not the production
of the action, but the continuation of the passion. For so is motion in
a body impelled by another; the continuation of the alteration made in
it from rest to motion being little more an action, than the
continuation of the alteration of its figure by the same blow is an
action. The idea of the BEGINNING of motion we have only from
reflection on what passes in ourselves; where we find by experience,
that, barely by willing it, barely by a thought of the mind, we can
move the parts of our bodies, which were before at rest. So that it
seems to me, we have, from the observation of the operation of bodies
by our senses, but a very imperfect obscure idea of ACTIVE power; since
they afford us not any idea in themselves of the power to begin any
action, either motion or thought. But if, from the impulse bodies are
observed to make one upon another, any one thinks he has a clear idea
of power, it serves as well to my purpose; sensation being one of those
ways whereby the mind comes by its ideas: only I thought it worth while
to consider here, by the way, whether the mind doth not receive its
idea of active power clearer from reflection on its own operations,
than it doth from any external sensation.
5. Will and Understanding two Powers in Mind or Spirit.
This, at least, I think evident,—That we find in ourselves a power to
begin or forbear, continue or end several actions of our minds, and
motions of our bodies, barely by a thought or preference of the mind
ordering, or as it were commanding, the doing or not doing such or such
a particular action. This power which the mind has thus to order the
consideration of any idea, or the forbearing to consider it; or to
prefer the motion of any part of the body to its rest, and vice versa,
in any particular instance, is that which we call the WILL. The actual
exercise of that power, by directing any particular action, or its
forbearance, is that which we call VOLITION or WILLING. The forbearance
of that action, consequent to such order or command of the mind, is
called VOLUNTARY. And whatsoever action is performed without such a
thought of the mind, is called INVOLUNTARY. The power of perception is
that which we call the UNDERSTANDING. Perception, which we make the act
of the understanding, is of three sorts:—1. The perception of ideas in
our minds. 2. The perception of the signification of signs. 3. The
perception of the connexion or repugnancy, agreement or disagreement,
that there is between any of our ideas. All these are attributed to the
understanding, or perceptive power, though it be the two latter only
that use allows us to say we understand.
6. Faculties not real beings.
These powers of the mind, viz. of perceiving, and of preferring, are
usually called by another name. And the ordinary way of speaking is,
that the understanding and will are two FACULTIES of the mind; a word
proper enough, if it be used, as all words should be, so as not to
breed any confusion in men’s thoughts, by being supposed (as I suspect
it has been) to stand for some real beings in the soul that performed
those actions of understanding and volition. For when we say the WILL
is the commanding and superior faculty of the soul; that it is or is
not free; that it determines the inferior faculties; that it follows
the dictates of the understanding, &c.,—though these and the like
expressions, by those that carefully attend to their own ideas, and
conduct their thoughts more by the evidence of things than the sound of
words, may be understood in a clear and distinct sense—yet I suspect, I
say, that this way of speaking of FACULTIES has misled many into a
confused notion of so many distinct agents in us, which had their
several provinces and authorities, and did command, obey, and perform
several actions, as so many distinct beings; which has been no small
occasion of wrangling, obscurity, and uncertainty, in questions
relating to them.
7. Whence the Ideas of Liberty and Necessity.
Every one, I think, finds in HIMSELF a power to begin or forbear,
continue or put an end to several actions in himself. From the
consideration of the extent of this power of the mind over the actions
of the man, which everyone finds in himself, arise the IDEAS of LIBERTY
and NECESSITY.
8. Liberty, what.
All the actions that we have any idea of reducing themselves, as has
been said, to these two, viz. thinking and motion; so far as a man has
power to think or not to think, to move or not to move, according to
the preference or direction of his own mind, so far is a man FREE.
Wherever any performance or forbearance are not equally in a man’s
power; wherever doing or not doing will not equally FOLLOW upon the
preference of his mind directing it, there he is not free, though
perhaps the action may be voluntary. So that the idea of LIBERTY is,
the idea of a power in any agent to do or forbear any particular
action, according to the determination or thought of the mind, whereby
either of them is preferred to the other: where either of them is not
in the power of the agent to be produced by him according to his
volition, there he is not at liberty; that agent is under NECESSITY. So
that liberty cannot be where there is no thought, no volition, no will;
but there may be thought, there may be will, there may be volition,
where there is no liberty. A little consideration of an obvious
instance or two may make this clear.
9. Supposes Understanding and Will.
A tennis-ball, whether in motion by the stroke of a racket, or lying
still at rest, is not by any one taken to be a free agent. If we
inquire into the reason, we shall find it is because we conceive not a
tennis-ball to think, and consequently not to have any volition, or
PREFERENCE of motion to rest, or vice versa; and therefore has not
liberty, is not a free agent; but all its both motion and rest come
under our idea of necessary, and are so called. Likewise a man falling
into the water, (a bridge breaking under him,) has not herein liberty,
is not a free agent. For though he has volition, though he prefers his
not falling to falling; yet the forbearance of that motion not being in
his power, the stop or cessation of that motion follows not upon his
volition; and therefore therein he is not free. So a man striking
himself, or his friend, by a convulsive motion of his arm, which it is
not in his power, by volition or the direction of his mind, to stop or
forbear, nobody thinks he has in this liberty; every one pities him, as
acting by necessity and constraint.
10. Belongs not to Volition.
Again: suppose a man be carried, whilst fast asleep, into a room where
is a person he longs to see and speak with; and be there locked fast
in, beyond his power to get out: he awakes, and is glad to find himself
in so desirable company, which he stays willingly in, i. e. prefers his
stay to going away. I ask, is not this stay voluntary? I think nobody
will doubt it: and yet, being locked fast in, it is evident he is not
at liberty not to stay, he has not freedom to be gone. So that liberty
is not an idea belonging to volition, or preferring; but to the person
having the power of doing, or forbearing to do, according as the mind
shall choose or direct. Our idea of liberty reaches as far as that
power, and no farther. For wherever restraint comes to check that
power, or compulsion takes away that indifferency of ability to act, or
to forbear acting, there liberty, and our notion of it, presently
ceases.
11. Voluntary opposed to involuntary.
We have instances enough, and often more than enough, in our own
bodies. A man’s heart beats, and the blood circulates, which it is not
in his power by any thought or volition to stop; and therefore in
respect of these motions, where rest depends not on his choice, nor
would follow the determination of his mind, if it should prefer it, he
is not a free agent. Convulsive motions agitate his legs, so that
though he wills it ever so much, he cannot by any power of his mind
stop their motion, (as in that odd disease called chorea sancti viti),
but he is perpetually dancing; he is not at liberty in this action, but
under as much necessity of moving, as a stone that falls, or a
tennis-ball struck with a racket. On the other side, a palsy or the
stocks hinder his legs from obeying the determination of his mind, if
it would thereby transfer his body to another place. In all these there
is want of freedom; though the sitting still, even of a paralytic,
whilst he prefers it to a removal, is truly voluntary. Voluntary, then,
is not opposed to necessary but to involuntary. For a man may prefer
what he can do, to what he cannot do; the state he is in, to its
absence or change; though necessity has made it in itself unalterable.
12. Liberty, what.
As it is in the motions of the body, so it is in the thoughts of our
minds: where any one is such, that we have power to take it up, or lay
it by, according to the preference of the mind, there we are at
liberty. A waking man, being under the necessity of having some ideas
constantly in his mind, is not at liberty to think or not to think; no
more than he is at liberty, whether his body shall touch any other or
no, but whether he will remove his contemplation from one idea to
another is many times in his choice; and then he is, in respect of his
ideas, as much at liberty as he is in respect of bodies he rests on; he
can at pleasure remove himself from one to another. But yet some ideas
to the mind, like some motions to the body, are such as in certain
circumstances it cannot avoid, nor obtain their absence by the utmost
effort it can use. A man on the rack is not at liberty to lay by the
idea of pain, and divert himself with other contemplations: and
sometimes a boisterous passion hurries our thoughts, as a hurricane
does our bodies, without leaving us the liberty of thinking on other
things, which we would rather choose. But as soon as the mind regains
the power to stop or continue, begin or forbear, any of these motions
of the body without, or thoughts within, according as it thinks fit to
prefer either to the other, we then consider the man as a FREE AGENT
again.
13. Wherever thought is wholly wanting, or the power to act or forbear
according to the direction of thought, there necessity takes place.
This, in an agent capable of volition, when the beginning or
continuation of any action is contrary to that preference of his mind,
is called compulsion; when the hindering or stopping any action is
contrary to his volition, it is called restraint. Agents that have no
thought, no volition at all, are in everything NECESSARY AGENTS.
14. If this be so, (as I imagine it is,) I leave it to be considered,
whether it may not help to put an end to that long agitated, and, I
think, unreasonable, because unintelligible question, viz. WHETHER
MAN’S WILL BE FREE OR NO? For if I mistake not, it follows from what I
have said, that the question itself is altogether improper; and it is
as insignificant to ask whether man’s WILL be free, as to ask whether
his sleep be swift, or his virtue square: liberty being as little
applicable to the will, as swiftness of motion is to sleep, or
squareness to virtue. Every one would laugh at the absurdity of such a
question as either of these: because it is obvious that the
modifications of motion belong not to sleep, nor the difference of
figure to virtue; and when any one well considers it, I think he will
as plainly perceive that liberty, which is but a power, belongs only to
Agents, and cannot be an attribute or modification of the will, which
is also but a power.
15. Volition.
Such is the difficulty of explaining and giving clear notions of
internal actions by sounds, that I must here warn my reader, that
ORDERING, DIRECTING, CHOOSING, PREFERRING, &c. which I have made use
of, will not distinctly enough express volition, unless he will reflect
on what he himself does when he wills. For example, preferring, which
seems perhaps best to express the act of volition, does it not
precisely. For though a man would prefer flying to walking, yet who can
say he ever wills it? Volition, it is plain, is an act of the mind
knowingly exerting that dominion it takes itself to have over any part
of the man, by employing it in, or withholding it from, any particular
action. And what is the will, but the faculty to do this? And is that
faculty anything more in effect than a power; the power of the mind to
determine its thought, to the producing, continuing, or stopping any
action, as far as it depends on us? For can it be denied that whatever
agent has a power to think on its own actions, and to prefer their
doing or omission either to other, has that faculty called will? WILL,
then, is nothing but such a power. LIBERTY, on the other side, is the
power a MAN has to do or forbear doing any particular action according
as its doing or forbearance has the actual preference in the mind;
which is the same thing as to say, according as he himself wills it.
16. Powers belonging to Agents.
It is plain then that the will is nothing but one power or ability, and
FREEDOM another power or ability so that, to ask, whether the will has
freedom, is to ask whether one power has another power, one ability
another ability; a question at first sight too grossly absurd to make a
dispute, or need an answer. For, who is it that sees not that powers
belong only to agents, and are attributes only of substances, and not
of powers themselves? So that this way of putting the question (viz.
whether the will be free) is in effect to ask, whether the will be a
substance, an agent, or at least to suppose it, since freedom can
properly be attributed to nothing else. If freedom can with any
propriety of speech be applied to power, it may be attributed to the
power that is in a man to produce, or forbear producing, motion in
parts of his body, by choice or preference; which is that which
denominates him free, and is freedom itself. But if any one should ask,
whether freedom were free, he would be suspected not to understand well
what he said; and he would be thought to deserve Midas’s ears, who,
knowing that rich was a denomination for the possession of riches,
should demand whether riches themselves were rich.
17. How the will instead of the man is called free.
However, the name FACULTY, which men have given to this power called
the will, and whereby they have been led into a way of talking of the
will as acting, may, by an appropriation that disguises its true sense,
serve a little to palliate the absurdity; yet the will, in truth,
signifies nothing but a power or ability to prefer or choose: and when
the will, under the name of a faculty, is considered as it is, barely
as an ability to do something, the absurdity in saying it is free, or
not free, will easily discover itself. For, if it be reasonable to
suppose and talk of faculties as distinct beings that can act, (as we
do, when we say the will orders, and the will is free,) it is fit that
we should make a speaking faculty, and a walking faculty, and a dancing
faculty, by which these actions are produced, which are but several
modes of motion; as well as we make the will and understanding to be
faculties, by which the actions of choosing and perceiving are
produced, which are but several modes of thinking. And we may as
properly say that it is the singing faculty sings, and the dancing
faculty dances, as that the will chooses, or that the understanding
conceives; or, as is usual, that the will directs the understanding, or
the understanding obeys or obeys not the will: it being altogether as
proper and intelligible to say that the power of speaking directs the
power of singing, or the power of singing obeys or disobeys the power
of speaking.
18. This way of talking causes confusion of thought.
This way of talking, nevertheless, has prevailed, and, as I guess,
produced great confusion. For these being all different powers in the
mind, or in the man, to do several actions, he exerts them as he thinks
fit: but the power to do one action is not operated on by the power of
doing another action. For the power of thinking operates not on the
power of choosing, nor the power of choosing on the power of thinking;
no more than the power of dancing operates on the power of singing, or
the power of singing on the power of dancing, as any one who reflects
on it will easily perceive. And yet this is it which we say when we
thus speak, that the will operates on the understanding, or the
understanding on the will.
19. Powers are relations, not agents.
I grant, that this or that actual thought may be the occasion of
volition, or exercising the power a man has to choose; or the actual
choice of the mind, the cause of actual thinking on this or that thing:
as the actual singing of such a tune may be the cause of dancing such a
dance, and the actual dancing of such a dance the occasion of singing
such a tune. But in all these it is not one POWER that operates on
another: but it is the mind that operates, and exerts these powers; it
is the man that does the action; it is the agent that has power, or is
able to do. For powers are relations, not agents: and that which has
the power or not the power to operate, is that alone which is or is not
free, and not the power itself. For freedom, or not freedom, can belong
to nothing but what has or has not a power to act.
20. Liberty belongs not to the Will.
The attributing to faculties that which belonged not to them, has given
occasion to this way of talking: but the introducing into discourses
concerning the mind, with the name of faculties, a notion of THEIR
operating, has, I suppose, as little advanced our knowledge in that
part of ourselves, as the great use and mention of the like invention
of faculties, in the operations of the body, has helped us in the
knowledge of physic. Not that I deny there are faculties, both in the
body and mind: they both of them have their powers of operating, else
neither the one nor the other could operate. For nothing can operate
that is not able to operate; and that is not able to operate that has
no power to operate. Nor do I deny that those words, and the like, are
to have their place in the common use of languages that have made them
current. It looks like too much affectation wholly to lay them by: and
philosophy itself, though it likes not a gaudy dress, yet, when it
appears in public, must have so much complacency as to be clothed in
the ordinary fashion and language of the country, so far as it can
consist with truth and perspicuity. But the fault has been, that
faculties have been spoken of and represented as so many distinct
agents. For, it being asked, what it was that digested the meat in our
stomachs? it was a ready and very satisfactory answer to say, that it
was the DIGESTIVE FACULTY. What was it that made anything come out of
the body? the EXPULSIVE FACULTY. What moved? the MOTIVE FACULTY. And so
in the mind, the INTELLECTUAL FACULTY, or the understanding,
understood; and the ELECTIVE FACULTY, or the will, willed or commanded.
This is, in short, to say, that the ability to digest, digested; and
the ability to move, moved; and the ability to understand, understood.
For faculty, ability, and power, I think, are but different names of
the same things: which ways of speaking, when put into more
intelligible words, will, I think, amount to thus much;—That digestion
is performed by something that is able to digest, motion by something
able to move, and understanding by something able to understand. And,
in truth, it would be very strange if it should be otherwise; as
strange as it would be for a man to be free without being able to be
free.
21. But to the Agent, or Man.
To return, then, to the inquiry about liberty, I think the question is
not proper, WHETHER THE WILL BE FREE, but WHETHER A MAN BE FREE. Thus,
I think,
First, That so far as any one can, by the direction or choice of his
mind, preferring the existence of any action to the non-existence of
that action, and vice versa, make IT to exist or not exist, so far HE
is free. For if I can, by a thought directing the motion of my finger,
make it move when it was at rest, or vice versa, it is evident, that in
respect of that I am free: and if I can, by a like thought of my mind,
preferring one to the other, produce either words or silence, I am at
liberty to speak or hold my peace: and as far as this power reaches, of
acting or not acting, by the determination of his own thought
preferring either, so far is a man free. For how can we think any one
freer, than to have the power to do what he will? And so far as any one
can, by preferring any action to its not being, or rest to any action,
produce that action or rest, so far can he do what he will. For such a
preferring of action to its absence, is the willing of it: and we can
scarce tell how to imagine any being freer, than to be able to do what
he wills. So that in respect of actions within the reach of such a
power in him, a man seems as free as it is possible for freedom to make
him.
22. In respect of willing, a Man is not free.
But the inquisitive mind of man, willing to shift off from himself, as
far as he can, all thoughts of guilt, though it be by putting himself
into a worse state than that of fatal necessity, is not content with
this: freedom, unless it reaches further than this, will not serve the
turn: and it passes for a good plea, that a man is not free at all, if
he be not as FREE TO WILL as he is to ACT WHAT HE WILLS. Concerning a
man’s liberty, there yet, therefore, is raised this further question,
WHETHER A MAN BE FREE TO WILL? which I think is what is meant, when it
is disputed whether the will be free. And as to that I imagine.
23. How a man cannot be free to will.
Secondly, That willing, or volition, being an action, and freedom
consisting in a power of acting or not acting, a man in respect of
willing or the act of volition, when any action in his power is once
proposed to his thoughts, as presently to be done, cannot be free. The
reason whereof is very manifest. For, it being unavoidable that the
action depending on his will should exist or not exist, and its
existence or not existence following perfectly the determination and
preference of his will, he cannot avoid willing the existence or
non-existence of that action; it is absolutely necessary that he will
the one or the other; i.e. prefer the one to the other: since one of
them must necessarily follow; and that which does follow follows by the
choice and determination of his mind; that is, by his willing it: for
if he did not will it, it would not be. So that, in respect of the act
of willing, a man is not free: liberty consisting in a power to act or
not to act; which, in regard of volition, a man, has not.
24. Liberty is freedom to execute what is willed.
This, then, is evident, That A MAN IS NOT AT LIBERTY TO WILL, OR NOT TO
WILL, ANYTHING IN HIS POWER THAT HE ONCE CONSIDERS OF: liberty
consisting in a power to act or to forbear acting, and in that only.
For a man that sits still is said yet to be at liberty; because he can
walk if he wills it. A man that walks is at liberty also, not because
he walks or moves; but because he can stand still if he wills it. But
if a man sitting still has not a power to remove himself, he is not at
liberty; so likewise a man falling down a precipice, though in motion,
is not at liberty, because he cannot stop that motion if he would. This
being so, it is plain that a man that is walking, to whom it is
proposed to give off walking, is not at liberty, whether he will
determine himself to walk, or give off walking or not: he must
necessarily prefer one or the other of them; walking or not walking.
And so it is in regard of all other actions in our power; they being
once proposed, the mind has not a power to act or not to act, wherein
consists liberty. The mind, in that case, has not a power to forbear
WILLING; it cannot avoid some determination concerning them, let the
consideration be as short, the thought as quick as it will, it either
leaves the man in the state he was before thinking, or changes it;
continues the action, or puts an end to it. Whereby it is manifest,
that IT orders and directs one, in preference to, or with neglect of
the other, and thereby either the continuation or change becomes
UNAVOIDABLY voluntary.
25. The Will determined by something without it.
Since then it is plain that, in most cases, a man is not at liberty,
whether he will or no, (for, when an action in his power is proposed to
his thoughts, he CANNOT forbear volition; he MUST determine one way or
the other;) the next thing demanded is,—WHETHER A MAN BE AT LIBERTY TO
WILL WHICH OF THE TWO HE PLEASES, MOTION OR REST? This question carries
the absurdity of it so manifestly in itself, that one might thereby
sufficiently be convinced that liberty concerns not the will. For, to
ask whether a man be at liberty to will either motion or rest, speaking
or silence, which he pleases, is to ask whether a man can will what he
wills, or be pleased with what he is pleased with? A question which, I
think, needs no answer: and they who can make a question of it must
suppose one will to determine the acts of another, and another to
determine that, and so on in infinitum.
26. The ideas of LIBERTY and VOLITION must be defined.
To avoid these and the like absurdities, nothing can be of greater use
than to establish in our minds determined ideas of the things under
consideration. If the ideas of liberty and volition were well fixed in
our understandings, and carried along with us in our minds, as they
ought, through all the questions that are raised about them, I suppose
a great part of the difficulties that perplex men’s thoughts, and
entangle their understandings, would be much easier resolved; and we
should perceive where the confused signification of terms, or where the
nature of the thing caused the obscurity.
27. Freedom.
First, then, it is carefully to be remembered, That freedom consists in
the dependence of the existence, or not existence of any ACTION, upon
our VOLITION of it; and not in the dependence of any action, or its
contrary, on our PREFERENCE. A man standing on a cliff, is at liberty
to leap twenty yards downwards into the sea, not because he has a power
to do the contrary action, which is to leap twenty yards upwards, for
that he cannot do; but he is therefore free, because he has a power to
leap or not to leap. But if a greater force than his, either holds him
fast, or tumbles him down, he is no longer free in that case; because
the doing or forbearance of that particular action is no longer in his
power. He that is a close prisoner in a room twenty feet square, being
at the north side of his chamber, is at liberty to walk twenty feet
southward, because he can walk or not walk it; but is not, at the same
time, at liberty to do the contrary, i.e. to walk twenty feet
northward.
In this, then, consists FREEDOM, viz. in our being able to act or not
to act, according as we shall choose or will.
28. What Volition and action mean.
Secondly, we must remember, that VOLITION or WILLING is an act of the
mind directing its thought to the production of any action, and thereby
exerting its power to produce it. To avoid multiplying of words, I
would crave leave here, under the word ACTION, to comprehend the
forbearance too of any action proposed: sitting still, or holding one’s
peace, when walking or speaking are proposed, though mere forbearances,
requiring as much the determination of the will, and being as often
weighty in their consequences, as the contrary actions, may, on that
consideration, well enough pass for actions too: but this I say, that I
may not be mistaken, if (for brevity’s sake) I speak thus.
29. What determines the Will.
Thirdly, the will being nothing but a power in the mind to direct the
operative faculties of a man to motion or rest as far as they depend on
such direction; to the question, What is it determines the will? the
true and proper answer is, The mind. For that which determines the
general power of directing, to this or that particular direction, is
nothing but the agent itself exercising the power it has that
particular way. If this answer satisfies not, it is plain the meaning
of the question, What determines the will? is this,—What moves the
mind, in every particular instance, to determine its general power of
directing, to this or that particular motion or rest? And to this I
answer,—The motive for continuing in the same state or action, is only
the present satisfaction in it; the motive to change is always some
uneasiness: nothing setting us upon the change of state, or upon any
new action, but some uneasiness. This is the great motive that works on
the mind to put it upon action, which for shortness’ sake we will call
determining of the will, which I shall more at large explain.
30. Will and Desire must not be confounded.
But, in the way to it, it will be necessary to premise, that, though I
have above endeavoured to express the act of volition, by CHOOSING,
PREFERRING, and the like terms, that signify desire as well as
volition, for want of other words to mark that act of the mind whose
proper name is WILLING or VOLITION; yet, it being a very simple act,
whosoever desires to understand what it is, will better find it by
reflecting on his own mind, and observing what it does when it wills,
than by any variety of articulate sounds whatsoever. This caution of
being careful not to be misled by expressions that do not enough keep
up the difference between the WILL and several acts of the mind that
are quite distinct from it, I think the more necessary, because I find
the will often confounded with several of the affections, especially
DESIRE, and one put for the other; and that by men who would not
willingly be thought not to have had very distinct notions of things,
and not to have writ very clearly about them. This, I imagine, has been
no small occasion of obscurity and mistake in this matter; and
therefore is, as much as may be, to be avoided. For he that shall turn
his thoughts inwards upon what passes in his mind when he wills, shall
see that the will or power of volition is conversant about nothing but
our own ACTIONS; terminates there; and reaches no further; and that
volition is nothing but that particular determination of the mind,
whereby, barely by a thought, the mind endeavours to give rise,
continuation, or stop, to any action which it takes to be in its power.
This, well considered, plainly shows that the will is perfectly
distinguished from desire; which, in the very same action, may have a
quite contrary tendency from that which our will sets us upon. A man,
whom I cannot deny, may oblige me to use persuasions to another, which,
at the same time I am speaking, I may wish may not prevail on him. In
this case, it is plain the will and desire run counter. I will the
action; that tends one way, whilst my desire tends another, and that
the direct contrary way. A man who, by a violent fit of the gout in his
limbs, finds a doziness in his head, or a want of appetite in his
stomach removed, desires to be eased too of the pain of his feet or
hands, (for wherever there is pain, there is a desire to be rid of it,)
though yet, whilst he apprehends that the removal of the pain may
translate the noxious humour to a more vital part, his will is never
determined to any one action that may serve to remove this pain. Whence
it is evident that desiring and willing are two distinct acts of the
mind; and consequently, that the will, which is but the power of
volition, is much more distinct from desire.
31. Uneasiness determines the Will.
To return, then, to the inquiry, what is it that determines the will in
regard to our actions? And that, upon second thoughts, I am apt to
imagine is not, as is generally supposed, the greater good in view; but
some (and for the most part the most pressing) UNEASINESS a man is at
present under. This is that which successively determines the will, and
sets us upon those actions we perform. This uneasiness we may call, as
it is, DESIRE; which is an uneasiness of the mind for want of some
absent good. All pain of the body, of what sort soever, and disquiet of
the mind, is uneasiness: and with this is always joined desire, equal
to the pain or uneasiness felt; and is scarce distinguishable from it.
For desire being nothing but an uneasiness in the want of an absent
good, in reference to any pain felt, ease is that absent good; and till
that ease be attained, we may call it desire; nobody feeling pain that
he wishes not to be eased of, with a desire equal to that pain, and
inseparable from it. Besides this desire of ease from pain, there is
another of absent positive good; and here also the desire and
uneasiness are equal. As much as we desire any absent good, so much are
we in pain for it. But here all absent good does not, according to the
greatness it has, or is acknowledged to have, cause pain equal to that
greatness; as all pain causes desire equal to itself: because the
absence of good is not always a pain, as the presence of pain is. And
therefore absent good may be looked on and considered without desire.
But so much as there is anywhere of desire, so much there is of
uneasiness.
32. Desire is Uneasiness.
That desire is a state of uneasiness, every one who reflects on himself
will quickly find. Who is there that has not felt in desire what the
wise man says of hope, (which is not much different from it,) that it
being ‘deferred makes the heart sick’; and that still proportionable to
the greatness of the desire, which sometimes raises the uneasiness to
that pitch, that it makes people cry out, ‘Give me children,’ give me
the thing desired, ‘or I die.’ Life itself, and all its enjoyments, is
a burden cannot be borne under the lasting and unremoved pressure of
such an uneasiness.
33. The Uneasiness of Desire determines the Will.
Good and evil, present and absent, it is true, work upon the mind. But
that which IMMEDIATELY determines the will from time to time, to every
voluntary action, is the UNEASINESS OF DESIRE, fixed on some absent
good: either negative, as indolence to one in pain; or positive, as
enjoyment of pleasure. That it is this uneasiness that determines the
will to the successive voluntary actions, whereof the greatest part of
our lives is made up, and by which we are conducted through different
courses to different ends, I shall endeavour to show, both from
experience, and the reason of the thing.
34. This is the Spring of Action.
When a man is perfectly content with the state he is in—which is when
he is perfectly without any uneasiness—what industry, what action, what
will is there left, but to continue in it? Of this every man’s
observation will satisfy him. And thus we see our all-wise Maker,
suitably to our constitution and frame, and knowing what it is that
determines the will, has put into man the uneasiness of hunger and
thirst, and other natural desires, that return at their seasons, to
move and determine their wills, for the preservation of themselves, and
the continuation of their species. For I think we may conclude, that,
if the BARE CONTEMPLATION of these good ends to which we are carried by
these several uneasinesses had been sufficient to determine the will,
and set us on work, we should have had none of these natural pains, and
perhaps in this world little or no pain at all. ‘It is better to marry
than to burn,’ says St. Paul, where we may see what it is that chiefly
drives men into the enjoyments of a conjugal life. A little burning
felt pushes us more powerfully than greater pleasure in prospect draw
or allure.
35. The greatest positive Good determines not the Will, but present
Uneasiness alone.
It seems so established and settled a maxim, by the general consent of
all mankind, that good, the greater good, determines the will, that I
do not at all wonder that, when I first published my thoughts on this
subject I took it for granted; and I imagine that, by a great many, I
shall be thought more excusable for having then done so, than that now
I have ventured to recede from so received an opinion. But yet, upon a
stricter inquiry, I am forced to conclude that GOOD, the GREATER GOOD,
though apprehended and acknowledged to be so, does not determine the
will, until our desire, raised proportionably to it, makes us uneasy in
the want of it. Convince a man never so much, that plenty has its
advantages over poverty; make him see and own, that the handsome
conveniences of life are better than nasty penury: yet, as long as he
is content with the latter, and finds no uneasiness in it, he moves
not; his will never is determined to any action that shall bring him
out of it. Let a man be ever so well persuaded of the advantages of
virtue, that it is as necessary to a man who has any great aims in this
world, or hopes in the next, as food to life: yet, till he hungers or
thirsts after righteousness, till he FEELS AN UNEASINESS in the want of
it, his WILL will not be determined to any action in pursuit of this
confessed greater good; but any other uneasiness he feels in himself
shall take place, and carry his will to other actions. On the other
side, let a drunkard see that his health decays, his estate wastes;
discredit and diseases, and the want of all things, even of his beloved
drink, attends him in the course he follows: yet the returns of
uneasiness to miss his companions, the habitual thirst after his cups
at the usual time, drives him to the tavern, though he has in his view
the loss of health and plenty, and perhaps of the joys of another life:
the least of which is no inconsiderable good, but such as he confesses
is far greater than the tickling of his palate with a glass of wine, or
the idle chat of a soaking club. It is not want of viewing the greater
good: for he sees and acknowledges it, and, in the intervals of his
drinking hours, will take resolutions to pursue the greater good; but
when the uneasiness to miss his accustomed delight returns, the greater
acknowledged good loses its hold, and the present uneasiness determines
the will to the accustomed action; which thereby gets stronger footing
to prevail against the next occasion, though he at the same time makes
secret promises to himself that he will do so no more; this is the last
time he will act against the attainment of those greater goods. And
thus he is, from time to time, in the state of that unhappy complainer,
Video meliora, proboque, deteriora sequor: which sentence, allowed for
true, and made good by constant experience, may in this, and possibly
no other way, be easily made intelligible.
36. Because the Removal of Uneasiness is the first Step to Happiness.
If we inquire into the reason of what experience makes so evident in
fact, and examine, why it is uneasiness alone operates on the will, and
determines it in its choice, we shall find that, we being capable but
of one determination of the will to one action at once, the present
uneasiness that we are under does NATURALLY determine the will, in
order to that happiness which we all aim at in all our actions. For, as
much as whilst we are under any uneasiness, we cannot apprehend
ourselves happy, or in the way to it; pain and uneasiness being, by
every one, concluded and felt to be inconsistent with happiness,
spoiling the relish even of those good things which we have: a little
pain serving to mar all the pleasure we rejoiced in. And, therefore,
that which of course determines the choice of our will to the next
action will always be—the removing of pain, as long as we have any
left, as the first and necessary step towards happiness.
37. Because Uneasiness alone is present.
Another reason why it is uneasiness alone determines the will, is this:
because that alone is present and, it is against the nature of things,
that what is absent should operate where it is not. It may be said that
absent good may, by contemplation, be brought home to the mind and made
present. The idea of it indeed may be in the mind and viewed as present
there; but nothing will be in the mind as a present good, able to
counterbalance the removal of any uneasiness which we are under, till
it raises our desire; and the uneasiness of that has the prevalency in
determining the will. Till then, the idea in the mind of whatever is
good is there only, like other ideas, the object of bare unactive
speculation; but operates not on the will, nor sets us on work; the
reason whereof I shall show by and by. How many are to be found that
have had lively representations set before their minds of the
unspeakable joys of heaven, which they acknowledge both possible and
probable too, who yet would be content to take up with their happiness
here? And so the prevailing uneasiness of their desires, let loose
after the enjoyments of this life, take their turns in the determining
their wills; and all that while they take not one step, are not one jot
moved, towards the good things of another life, considered as ever so
great.
38. Because all who allow the Joys of Heaven possible, pursue them not.
Were the will determined by the views of good, as it appears in
contemplation greater or less to the understanding, which is the state
of all absent good, and that which, in the received opinion, the will
is supposed to move to, and to be moved by,—I do not see how it could
ever get loose from the infinite eternal joys of heaven, once proposed
and considered as possible. For, all absent good, by which alone,
barely proposed, and coming in view, the will is thought to be
determined, and so to set us on action, being only possible, but not
infallibly certain, it is unavoidable that the infinitely greater
possible good should regularly and constantly determine the will in all
the successive actions it directs; and then we should keep constantly
and steadily in our course towards heaven, without ever standing still,
or directing our actions to any other end: the eternal condition of a
future state infinitely outweighing the expectation of riches, or
honour, or any other worldly pleasure which we can propose to
ourselves, though we should grant these the more probable to be
obtained: for nothing future is yet in possession, and so the
expectation even of these may deceive us. If it were so that the
greater good in view determines the will, so great a good, once
proposed, could not but seize the will, and hold it fast to the pursuit
of this infinitely greatest good, without ever letting it go again: for
the will having a power over, and directing the thoughts, as well as
other actions, would, if it were so, hold the contemplation of the mind
fixed to that good.
39. But any great Uneasiness is never neglected.
This would be the state of the mind, and regular tendency of the will
in all its determinations, were it determined by that which is
considered and in view the greater good. But that it is not so, is
visible in experience; the infinitely greatest confessed good being
often neglected, to satisfy the successive uneasiness of our desires
pursuing trifles. But, though the greatest allowed, even everlasting
unspeakable, good, which has sometimes moved and affected the mind,
does not stedfastly hold the will, yet we see any very great and
prevailing uneasiness having once laid hold on the will, let it not go;
by which we may be convinced, what it is that determines the will. Thus
any vehement pain of the body; the ungovernable passion of a man
violently in love; or the impatient desire of revenge, keeps the will
steady and intent; and the will, thus determined, never lets the
understanding lay by the object, but all the thoughts of the mind and
powers of the body are uninterruptedly employed that way, by the
determination of the will, influenced by that topping uneasiness, as
long as it lasts; whereby it seems to me evident, that the will, or
power of setting us upon one action in preference to all others, is
determined in us by uneasiness: and whether this be not so, I desire
every one to observe in himself.
40. Desire accompanies all Uneasiness.
I have hitherto chiefly instanced in the UNEASINESS of desire, as that
which determines the will: because that is the chief and most sensible;
and the will seldom orders any action, nor is there any voluntary
action performed, without some desire accompanying it; which I think is
the reason why the will and desire are so often confounded. But yet we
are not to look upon the uneasiness which makes up, or at least
accompanies, most of the other passions, as wholly excluded in the
case. Aversion, fear, anger, envy, shame, &c. have each their
uneasinesses too, and thereby influence the will. These passions are
scarce any of them, in life and practice, simple and alone, and wholly
unmixed with others; though usually, in discourse and contemplation,
that carries the name which operates strongest, and appears most in the
present state of the mind. Nay, there is, I think, scarce any of the
passions to be found without desire joined with it. I am sure wherever
there is uneasiness, there is desire. For we constantly desire
happiness; and whatever we feel of uneasiness, so much it is certain we
want of happiness; even in our own opinion, let our state and condition
otherwise be what it will. Besides, the present moment not being our
eternity, whatever our enjoyment be, we look beyond the present, and
desire goes with our foresight, and that still carries the will with
it. So that even in joy itself, that which keeps up the action whereon
the enjoyment depends, is the desire to continue it, and fear to lose
it: and whenever a greater uneasiness than that takes place in the
mind, the will presently is by that determined to some new action, and
the present delight neglected.
41. The most pressing Uneasiness naturally determines the Will.
But we being in this world beset with sundry uneasinesses, distracted
with different desires, the next inquiry naturally will be,—Which of
them has the precedency in determining the will to the next action? and
to that the answer is,—That ordinarily which is the most pressing of
those that are judged capable of being then removed. For, the will
being the power of directing our operative faculties to some action,
for some end, cannot at any time be moved towards what is judged at
that time unattainable: that would be to suppose an intelligent being
designedly to act for an end, only to lose its labour; for so it is to
act for what is judged not attainable; and therefore very great
uneasinesses move not the will, when they are judged not capable of a
cure: they in that case put us not upon endeavours. But, these set
apart the most important and urgent uneasiness we at that time feel, is
that which ordinarily determines the will, successively, in that train
of voluntary actions which makes up our lives. The greatest present
uneasiness is the spur to action, that is constantly most felt, and for
the most part determines the will in its choice of the next action. For
this we must carry along with us, that the proper and only object of
the will is some action of ours, and nothing else. For we producing
nothing by our willing it, but some action in our power, it is there
the will terminates, and reaches no further.
42. All desire Happiness.
If it be further asked,—What it is moves desire? I answer,—happiness,
and that alone. Happiness and misery are the names of two extremes, the
utmost bounds whereof we know not; it is what be in itself good; and
what is apt to produce any degree of pain be evil; yet it often happens
that we do not call it so when it comes in competition with a greater
of its sort; because, when they come in competition, the degrees also
of pleasure and pain have justly a preference. So that if we will
rightly estimate what we call good and evil, we shall find it lies much
in comparison: for the cause of every less degree of pain, as well as
every greater degree of pleasure, has the nature of good, and vice
versa.
43. [* missing]
44. What Good is desired, what not.
Though this be that which is called good and evil, and all good be the
proper object of desire in general; yet all good, even seen and
confessed to be so, does not necessarily move every particular man’s
desire; but only that part, or so much of it as is considered and taken
to make a necessary part of HIS happiness. All other good, however
great in reality or appearance, excites not a man’s desires who looks
not on it to make a part of that happiness wherewith he, in his present
thoughts, can satisfy himself. Happiness, under this view, every one
constantly pursues, and desires what makes any part of it: other
things, acknowledged to be good, he can look upon without desire, pass
by, and be content without. There is nobody, I think, so senseless as
to deny that there is pleasure in knowledge: and for the pleasures of
sense, they have too many followers to let it be questioned whether men
are taken with them or no. Now, let one man place his satisfaction in
sensual pleasures, another in the delight of knowledge: though each of
them cannot but confess, there is great pleasure in what the other
pursues; yet, neither of them making the other’s delight a part of HIS
happiness, their desires are not moved, but each is satisfied without
what the other enjoys; and so his will is not determined to the pursuit
of it. But yet, as soon as the studious man’s hunger and thirst make
him uneasy, he, whose will was never determined to any pursuit of good
cheer, poignant sauces, delicious wine, by the pleasant taste he has
found in them, is, by the uneasiness of hunger and thirst, presently
determined to eating and drinking, though possibly with great
indifferency, what wholesome food comes in his way. And, on the other
side, the epicure buckles to study, when shame, or the desire to
recommend himself to his mistress, shall make him uneasy in the want of
any sort of knowledge. Thus, how much soever men are in earnest and
constant in pursuit of happiness, yet they may have a clear view of
good, great and confessed good, without being concerned for it, or
moved by it, if they think they can make up their happiness without it.
Though as to pain, THAT they are always concerned for; they can feel no
uneasiness without being moved. And therefore, being uneasy in the want
of whatever is judged necessary to their happiness, as soon as any good
appears to make a part of their portion of happiness, they begin to
desire it.
45. Why the greatest Good is not always desired.
This, I think, any one may observe in himself and others,—That the
greater visible good does not always raise men’s desires in proportion
to the greatness it appears, and is acknowledged, to have: though every
little trouble moves us, and sets us on work to get rid of it. The
reason whereof is evident from the nature of our happiness and misery
itself. All present pain, whatever it be, makes a part of our present
misery: but all absent good does not at any time make a necessary part
of our present happiness, nor the absence of it make a part of our
misery. If it did, we should be constantly and infinitely miserable;
there being infinite degrees of happiness which are not in our
possession. All uneasiness therefore being removed, a moderate portion
of good serve at present to content men; and a few degrees of pleasure
in a succession of ordinary enjoyments, make up a happiness wherein
they can be satisfied. If this were not so, there could be no room for
those indifferent and visibly trifling actions, to which our wills are
so often determined, and wherein we voluntarily waste so much of our
lives; which remissness could by no means consist with a constant
determination of will or desire to the greatest apparent good. That
this is so, I think few people need go far from home to be convinced.
And indeed in this life there are not many whose happiness reaches so
far as to afford them a constant train of moderate mean pleasures,
without any mixture of uneasiness; and yet they could be content to
stay here for ever: though they cannot deny, but that it is possible
there may be a state of eternal durable joys after this life, far
surpassing all the good that is to be found here. Nay, they cannot but
see that it is more possible than the attainment and continuation of
that pittance of honour, riches, or pleasure which they pursue, and for
which they neglect that eternal state. But yet, in full view of this
difference, satisfied of the possibility of a perfect, secure, and
lasting happiness in a future state, and under a clear conviction that
it is not to be had here,—whilst they bound their happiness within some
little enjoyment or aim of this life, and exclude the joys of heaven
from making any necessary part of it,—their desires are not moved by
this greater apparent good, nor their wills determined to any action,
or endeavour for its attainment.
46. Why not being desired, it moves not the Will.
The ordinary necessities of our lives fill a great part of them with
the uneasinesses of hunger, thirst, heat, cold, weariness, with labour,
and sleepiness, in their constant returns, &c. To which, if, besides
accidental harms, we add the fantastical uneasiness (as itch after
honour, power, or riches, &c.) which acquired habits, by fashion,
example, and education, have settled in us, and a thousand other
irregular desires, which custom has made natural to us, we shall find
that a very little part of our life is so vacant from THESE
uneasinesses, as to leave us free to the attraction of remoter absent
good. We are seldom at ease, and free enough from the solicitation of
our natural or adopted desires, but a constant succession of
uneasinesses out of that stock which natural wants or acquired habits
have heaped up, take the will in their turns; and no sooner is one
action dispatched, which by such a determination of the will we are set
upon, but another uneasiness is ready to set us on work. For, the
removing of the pains we feel, and are at present pressed with, being
the getting out of misery, and consequently the first thing to be done
in order to happiness,—absent good, though thought on, confessed, and
appearing to be good, not making any part of this unhappiness in its
absence, is justled out, to make way for the removal of those
uneasinesses we feel; till due and repeated contemplation has brought
it nearer to our mind, given some relish of it, and raised in us some
desire: which then beginning to make a part of our present uneasiness,
stands upon fair terms with the rest to be satisfied, and so, according
to its greatness and pressure, comes in its turn to determine the will.
47. Due Consideration raises Desire.
And thus, by a due consideration, and examining any good proposed, it
is in our power to raise our desires in a due proportion to the value
of that good, whereby in its turn and place it may come to work upon
the will, and be pursued. For good, though appearing and allowed ever
so great, yet till it has raised desires in our minds, and thereby made
us uneasy in its want, it reaches not our wills; we are not within the
sphere of its activity, our wills being under the determination only of
those uneasinesses which are present to us, which (whilst we have any)
are always soliciting, and ready at hand, to give the will its next
determination. The balancing, when there is any in the mind, being
only, which desire shall be next satisfied, which uneasiness first
removed. Whereby it comes to pass that, as long as any uneasiness, any
desire, remains in our mind, there is no room for good, barely as such,
to come at the will, or at all to determine it. Because, as has been
said, the FIRST step in our endeavours after happiness being to get
wholly out of the confines of misery, and to feel no part of it, the
will can be at leisure for nothing else, till every uneasiness we feel
be perfectly removed: which, in the multitude of wants and desires we
are beset with in this imperfect state, we are not like to be ever
freed from in this world.
48. The Power to suspend the Prosecution of any Desire makes way for
consideration.
There being in us a great many uneasinesses, always soliciting and
ready to determine the will, it is natural, as I have said, that the
greatest and most pressing should determine the will to the next
action; and so it does for the most part, but not always. For, the mind
having in most cases, as is evident in experience, a power to SUSPEND
the execution and satisfaction of any of its desires; and so all, one
after another; is at liberty to consider the objects of them, examine
them on all sides, and weigh them with others. In this lies the liberty
man has; and from the not using of it right comes all that variety of
mistakes, errors, and faults which we run into in the conduct of our
lives, and our endeavours after happiness; whilst we precipitate the
determination of our wills, and engage too soon, before due
examination. To prevent this, we have a power to suspend the
prosecution of this or that desire; as every one daily may experiment
in himself. This seems to me the source of all liberty; in this seems
to consist that which is (as I think improperly) called FREE-WILL. For,
during this suspension of any desire, before the will be determined to
action, and the action (which follows that determination) done, we have
opportunity to examine, view, and judge of the good or evil of what we
are going to do; and when, upon due examination, we have judged, we
have done our duty, all that we can, or ought to do, in pursuit of our
happiness; and it is not a fault, but a perfection of our nature, to
desire, will, and act according to the last result of a fair
examination.
49. To be determined by our own Judgment, is no Restraint to Liberty.
This is so far from being a restraint or diminution of freedom, that it
is the very improvement and benefit of it; it is not an abridgment, it
is the end and use of our liberty; and the further we are removed from
such a determination, the nearer we are to misery and slavery. A
perfect indifference in the mind, not determinable by its last judgment
of the good or evil that is thought to attend its choice, would be so
far from being an advantage and excellency of any intellectual nature,
that it would be as great an imperfection, as the want of indifferency
to act, or not to act, till determined by the will, would be an
imperfection on the other side. A man is at liberty to lift up his hand
to his head, or let it rest quiet: he is perfectly indifferent in
either; and it would be an imperfection in him, if he wanted that
power, if he were deprived of that indifferency. But it would be as
great an imperfection, if he had the same indifferency, whether he
would prefer the lifting up his hand, or its remaining in rest, when it
would save his head or eyes from a blow he sees coming: it is as much a
perfection, that desire, or the power of preferring, should be
determined by good, as that the power of acting should be determined by
the will; and the certainer such determination is, the greater is the
perfection. Nay, were we determined by anything but the last result of
our own minds, judging of the good or evil of any action, we were not
free.
50. The freest Agents are so determined.
If we look upon those superior beings above us, who enjoy perfect
happiness, we shall have reason to judge that they are more steadily
determined in their choice of good than we; and yet we have no reason
to think they are less happy, or less free, than we are. And if it were
fit for such poor finite creatures as we are to pronounce what infinite
wisdom and goodness could do, I think we might say, that God himself
CANNOT choose what is not good; the freedom of the Almighty hinders not
his being determined by what is best.
51. A constant Determination to a Pursuit of Happiness no Abridgment of
Liberty.
But to give a right view of this mistaken part of liberty let me
ask,—Would any one be a changeling, because he is less determined by
wise considerations than a wise man? Is it worth the name of freedom to
be at liberty to play the fool, and draw shame and misery upon a man’s
self? If to break loose from the conduct of reason, and to want that
restraint of examination and judgment which keeps us from choosing or
doing the worse, be liberty, true liberty, madmen and fools are the
only freemen: but yet, I think, nobody would choose to be mad for the
sake of such liberty, but he that is mad already. The constant desire
of happiness, and the constraint it puts upon us to act for it, nobody,
I think, accounts an abridgment of liberty, or at least an abridgment
of liberty to be complained of. God Almighty himself is under the
necessity of being happy; and the more any intelligent being is so, the
nearer is its approach to infinite perfection and happiness. That, in
this state of ignorance, we short-sighted creatures might not mistake
true felicity, we are endowed with a power to suspend any particular
desire, and keep it from determining the will, and engaging us in
action. This is standing still, where we are not sufficiently assured
of the way: examination is consulting a guide. The determination of the
will upon inquiry, is following the direction of that guide: and he
that has a power to act or not to act, according as SUCH determination
directs, is a free agent: such determination abridges not that power
wherein liberty consists. He that has his chains knocked off, and the
prison doors set open to him, is perfectly at liberty, because he may
either go or stay, as he best likes, though his preference be
determined to stay, by the darkness of the night, or illness of the
weather, or want of other lodging. He ceases not to be free; though the
desire of some convenience to be had there absolutely determines his
preference, and makes him stay in his prison.
52. The Necessity of pursuing true Happiness the Foundation of Liberty.
As therefore the highest perfection of intellectual nature lies in a
careful and constant pursuit of true and solid happiness; so the care
of ourselves, that we mistake not imaginary for real happiness, is the
necessary foundation of our liberty. The stronger ties we have to an
unalterable pursuit of happiness in general, which is our greatest
good, and which as such, our desires always follow, the more are we
free from any necessary determination of our will to any particular
action, and from a necessary compliance with our desire, so upon any
particular, and then appearing preferable good, till we have duly
examined whether it has a tendency to, or be inconsistent with, our
real happiness: and therefore, till we are as much informed upon this
inquiry as the weight of the matter, and the nature of the case
demands, we are, by the necessity of preferring and pursuing true
happiness as our greatest good, obliged to suspend the satisfaction of
our desires in particular cases.
53. Power to Suspend.
This is the hinge on which turns the LIBERTY of intellectual beings, in
their constant endeavours after, and a steady prosecution of true
felicity,—That they CAN SUSPEND this prosecution in particular cases,
till they have looked before them, and informed themselves whether that
particular thing which is then proposed or desired lie in the way to
their main end, and make a real part of that which is their greatest
good. For, the inclination and tendency of their nature to happiness is
an obligation and motive to them, to take care not to mistake or miss
it; and so necessarily puts them upon caution, deliberation, and
wariness, in the direction of their particular actions, which are the
means to obtain it. Whatever necessity determines to the pursuit of
real bliss, the same necessity, with the same force, establishes
suspense, deliberation, and scrutiny of each successive desire, whether
the satisfaction of it does not interfere with our true happiness, and
mislead us from it. This, as seems to me, is the great privilege of
finite intellectual beings; and I desire it may be well considered,
whether the great inlet and exercise of all the liberty men have, are
capable of, or can be useful to them, and that whereon depends the turn
of their actions, does not lie in this,—That they can suspend their
desires, and stop them from determining their wills to any action, till
they have duly and fairly examined the good and evil of it, as far
forth as the weight of the thing requires. This we are able to do; and
when we have done it, we have done our duty, and all that is in our
power; and indeed all that needs. For, since the will supposes
knowledge to guide its choice, all that we can do is to hold our wills
undetermined, till we have examined the good and evil of what we
desire. What follows after that, follows in a chain of consequences,
linked one to another, all depending on the last determination of the
judgment, which, whether it shall be upon a hasty and precipitate view,
or upon a due and mature examination, is in our power; experience
showing us, that in most cases, we are able to suspend the present
satisfaction of any desire.
54. Government of our Passions the right Improvement of Liberty.
But if any extreme disturbance (as sometimes it happens) possesses our
whole mind, as when the pain of the rack, an impetuous uneasiness, as
of love, anger, or any other violent passion, running away with us,
allows us not the liberty of thought, and we are not masters enough of
our own minds to consider thoroughly and examine fairly;—God, who knows
our frailty, pities our weakness, and requires of us no more than we
are able to do, and sees what was and what was not in our power, will
judge as a kind and merciful Father. But the forbearance of a too hasty
compliance with our desires, the moderation and restraint of our
passions, so that our understandings may be free to examine, and reason
unbiassed, give its judgment, being that whereon a right direction of
our conduct to true happiness depends; it is in this we should employ
our chief care and endeavours. In this we should take pains to suit the
relish of our minds to the true intrinsic good or ill that is in
things; and not permit an allowed or supposed possible great and
weighty good to slip out of our thoughts, without leaving any relish,
any desire of itself there till, by a due consideration of its true
worth, we have formed appetites in our minds suitable to it, and made
ourselves uneasy in the want of it, or in the fear of losing it. And
how much this is in every one’s power, by making resolutions to
himself, such as he may keep, is easy for every one to try. Nor let any
one say, he cannot govern his passions, nor hinder them from breaking
out, and carrying him into action; for what he can do before a prince
or a great man, he can do alone, or in the presence of God, if he will.
55. How Men come to pursue different, and often evil Courses.
From what has been said, it is easy to give an account how it comes to
pass, that, though all men desire happiness, yet their wills carry them
so contrarily; and consequently, some of them to what is evil. And to
this I say, that the various and contrary choices that men make in the
world do not argue that they do not all pursue good; but that the same
thing is not good to every man alike. This variety of pursuits shows,
that every one does not place his happiness in the same thing, or
choose the same way to it. Were all the concerns of man terminated in
this life, why one followed study and knowledge, and another hawking
and hunting: why one chose luxury and debauchery, and another sobriety
and riches, would not be because every one of these did NOT aim at his
own happiness; but because their happiness was placed in different
things. And therefore it was a right answer of the physician to his
patient that had sore eyes:—If you have more pleasure in the taste of
wine than in the use of your sight, wine is good for you; but if the
pleasure of seeing be greater to you than that of drinking, wine is
naught.
56. All men seek happiness, but not of the same sort.
The mind has a different relish, as well as the palate; and you will as
fruitlessly endeavour to delight all men with riches or glory (which
yet some men place their happiness in) as you would to satisfy all
men’s hunger with cheese or lobsters; which, though very agreeable and
delicious fare to some, are to others extremely nauseous and offensive:
and many persons would with reason prefer the griping of an hungry
belly to those dishes which are a feast to others. Hence it was, I
think, that the philosophers of old did in vain inquire, whether summum
bonum consisted in riches, or bodily delights, or virtue, or
contemplation: and they might have as reasonably disputed, whether the
best relish were to be found in apples, plums, or nuts, and have
divided themselves into sects upon it. For, as pleasant tastes depend
not on the things themselves, but on their agreeableness to this or
that particular palate, wherein there is great variety; so the greatest
happiness consists in the having those things which produce the
greatest pleasure, and in the absence of those which cause any
disturbance, any pain. Now these, to different men, are very different
things. If, therefore, men in this life only have hope; if in this life
only they can enjoy, it is not strange nor unreasonable, that they
should seek their happiness by avoiding all things that disease them
here, and by pursuing all that delight them; wherein it will be no
wonder to find variety and difference. For if there be no prospect
beyond the grave, the inference is certainly right—‘Let us eat and
drink,’ let us enjoy what we delight in, ‘for to-morrow we shall die.’
This, I think, may serve to show us the reason, why, though all men’s
desires tend to happiness, yet they are not moved by the same object.
Men may choose different things, and yet all choose right; supposing
them only like a company of poor insects; whereof some are bees,
delighted with flowers and their sweetness; others beetles, delighted
with other kinds of viands, which having enjoyed for a season, they
would cease to be, and exist no more for ever.
57. [not in early editions]
58. Why men choose what makes them miserable.
What has been said may also discover to us the reason why men in this
world prefer different things, and pursue happiness by contrary
courses. But yet, since men are always constant and in earnest in
matters of happiness and misery, the question still remains, How men
come often to prefer the worse to the better; and to choose that,
which, by their own confession, has made them miserable?
59. The causes of this.
To account for the various and contrary ways men take, though all aim
at being happy, we must consider whence the VARIOUS UNEASINESSES that
determine the will, in the preference of each voluntary action, have
their rise:—
1. From bodily pain.
Some of them come from causes not in our power; such as are often the
pains of the body from want, disease, or outward injuries, as the rack,
etc.; which, when present and violent, operate for the most part
forcibly on the will, and turn the courses of men’s lives from virtue,
piety, and religion, and what before they judged to lead to happiness;
every one not endeavouring, or not being able, by the contemplation of
remote and future good, to raise in himself desires of them strong
enough to counterbalance the uneasiness he feels in those bodily
torments, and to keep his will steady in the choice of those actions
which lead to future happiness. A neighbouring country has been of late
a tragical theatre from which we might fetch instances, if there needed
any, and the world did not in all countries and ages furnish examples
enough to confirm that received observation: NECESSITAS COGIT AD
TURPIA; and therefore there is great reason for us to pray, ‘Lead us
not into temptation.’
2. From wrong Desires arising from wrong Judgments.
Other uneasinesses arise from our desires of absent good; which desires
always bear proportion to, and depend on, the judgment we make, and the
relish we have of any absent good; in both which we are apt to be
variously misled, and that by our own fault.
60. Our judgment of present Good or Evil always right.
In the first place, I shall consider the wrong judgments men make of
FUTURE good and evil, whereby their desires are misled. For, as to
PRESENT happiness and misery, when that alone comes into consideration,
and the consequences are quite removed, a man never chooses amiss: he
knows what best pleases him, and that he actually prefers. Things in
their present enjoyment are what they seem: the apparent and real good
are, in this case, always the same. For the pain or pleasure being just
so great and no greater than it is felt, the present good or evil is
really so much as it appears. And therefore were every action of ours
concluded within itself, and drew no consequences after it, we should
undoubtedly never err in our choice of good: we should always
infallibly prefer the best. Were the pains of honest industry, and of
starving with hunger and cold set together before us, nobody would be
in doubt which to choose: were the satisfaction of a lust and the joys
of heaven offered at once to any one’s present possession, he would not
balance, or err in the determination of his choice.
61. Our wrong judgments have regard to future good and evil only.
But since our voluntary actions carry not all the happiness and misery
that depend on them along with them in their present performance, but
are the precedent causes of good and evil, which they draw after them,
and bring upon us, when they themselves are past and cease to be; our
desires look beyond our present enjoyments, and carry the mind out to
ABSENT GOOD, according to the necessity which we think there is of it,
to the making or increase of our happiness. It is our opinion of such a
necessity that gives it its attraction: without that, we are not moved
by absent good. For, in this narrow scantling of capacity which we are
accustomed to and sensible of here, wherein we enjoy but one pleasure
at once, which, when all uneasiness is away, is, whilst it lasts,
sufficient to make us think ourselves happy, it is not all remote and
even apparent good that affects us. Because the indolency and enjoyment
we have, sufficing for our present happiness, we desire not to venture
the change; since we judge that we are happy already, being content,
and that is enough. For who is content is happy. But as soon as any new
uneasiness comes in, this happiness is disturbed, and we are set afresh
on work in the pursuit of happiness.
62. From a wrong Judgment of what makes a necessary Part of their
Happiness.
Their aptness therefore to conclude that they can be happy without it,
is one great occasion that men often are not raised to the desire of
the greatest ABSENT good. For, whilst such thoughts possess them, the
joys of a future state move them not; they have little concern or
uneasiness about them; and the will, free from the determination of
such desires, is left to the pursuit of nearer satisfactions, and to
the removal of those uneasinesses which it then feels, in its want of
any longings after them. Change but a man’s view of these things; let
him see that virtue and religion are necessary to his happiness; let
him look into the future state of bliss or misery, and see there God,
the righteous Judge, ready to ‘render to every man according to his
deeds; to them who by patient continuance in well-doing seek for glory,
and honour, and immortality, eternal life; but unto every soul that
doth evil, indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish.’ To him, I
say, who hath a prospect of the different state of perfect happiness or
misery that attends all men after this life, depending on their
behaviour here, the measures of good and evil that govern his choice
are mightily changed. For, since nothing of pleasure and pain in this
life can bear any proportion to the endless happiness or exquisite
misery of an immortal soul hereafter, actions in his power will have
their preference, not according to the transient pleasure or pain that
accompanies or follows them here, but as they serve to secure that
perfect durable happiness hereafter.
63. A more particular Account of wrong Judgments.
But, to account more particularly for the misery that men often bring
on themselves, notwithstanding that they do all in earnest pursue
happiness, we must consider how things come to be represented to our
desires under deceitful appearances: and that is by the judgment
pronouncing wrongly concerning them. To see how far this reaches, and
what are the causes of wrong judgment, we must remember that things are
judged good or bad in a double sense:—
First, THAT WHICH IS PROPERLY GOOD OR BAD, IS NOTHING BUT BARELY
PLEASURE OR PAIN.
Secondly, But because not only present pleasure and pain, but that also
which is apt by its efficacy or consequences to bring it upon us at a
distance, is a proper object of our desires, and apt to move a creature
that has foresight; therefore THINGS ALSO THAT DRAW AFTER THEM PLEASURE
AND PAIN, ARE CONSIDERED AS GOOD AND EVIL.
64. No one chooses misery willingly, but only by wrong judgment.
The wrong judgment that misleads us, and makes the will often fasten on
the worse side, lies in misreporting upon the various comparisons of
these. The wrong judgment I am here speaking of is not what one man may
think of the determination of another, but what every man himself must
confess to be wrong. For, since I lay it for a certain ground, that
every intelligent being really seeks happiness, which consists in the
enjoyment of pleasure, without any considerable mixture of uneasiness;
it is impossible any one should willingly put into his own draught any
bitter ingredient, or leave out anything in his power that would tend
to his satisfaction, and the completing of his happiness, but only by a
WRONG JUDGMENT. I shall not here speak of that mistake which is the
consequence of INVINCIBLE error, which scarce deserves the name of
wrong judgment; but of that wrong judgment which every man himself must
confess to be so.
65. Men may err on comparing Present and Future.
(I) Therefore, as to present pleasure and pain, the mind, as has been
said, never mistakes that which is really good or evil; that which is
the greater pleasure, or the greater pain, is really just as it
appears. But, though present pleasure and pain show their difference
and degrees so plainly as not to leave room to mistake; yet, WHEN WE
COMPARE PRESENT PLEASURE OR PAIN WITH FUTURE, (which is usually the
case in most important determinations of the will,) we often make wrong
judgments of them; taking our measures of them in different positions
of distance. Objects near our view are apt to be thought greater than
those of a larger size that are more remote. And so it is with
pleasures and pains: the present is apt to carry it; and those at a
distance have the disadvantage in the comparison. Thus most men, like
spendthrift heirs, are apt to judge a little in hand better than a
great deal to come; and so, for small matters in possession, part with
greater ones in reversion. But that this is a wrong judgment every one
must allow, let his pleasure consist in whatever it will: since that
which is future will certainly come to be present; and then, having the
same advantage of nearness, will show itself in its full dimensions,
and discover his wilful mistake who judged of it by unequal measures.
Were the pleasure of drinking accompanied, the very moment a man takes
off his glass, with that sick stomach and aching head which, in some
men, are sure to follow not many hours after, I think nobody, whatever
pleasure he had in his cups, would, on these conditions, ever let wine
touch his lips; which yet he daily swallows, and the evil side comes to
be chosen only by the fallacy of a little difference in time. But, if
pleasure or pain can be so lessened only by a few hours’ removal, how
much more will it be so by a further distance to a man that will not,
by a right judgment, do what time will, i. e. bring it home upon
himself, and consider it as present, and there take its true
dimensions? This is the way we usually impose on ourselves, in respect
of bare pleasure and pain, or the true degrees of happiness or misery:
the future loses its just proportion, and what is present obtains the
preference as the greater. I mention not here the wrong judgment,
whereby the absent are not only lessened, but reduced to perfect
nothing; when men enjoy what they can in present, and make sure of
that, concluding amiss that no evil will thence follow. For that lies
not in comparing the greatness of future good and evil, which is that
we are here speaking of; but in another sort of wrong judgment, which
is concerning good or evil, as it is considered to be the cause and
procurement of pleasure or pain that will follow from it.
66. Causes of our judging amiss when we compare present pleasure and
pain with future.
The cause of our judging amiss, when we compare our present pleasure or
pain with future, seems to me to be THE WEAK AND NARROW CONSTITUTION OF
OUR MINDS. We cannot well enjoy two pleasures at once; much less any
pleasure almost, whilst pain possesses us. The present pleasure, if it
be not very languid, and almost none at all, fills our narrow souls,
and so takes up the whole mind that it scarce leaves any thought of
things absent: or if among our pleasures there are some which are not
strong enough to exclude the consideration of things at a distance, yet
we have so great an abhorrence of pain, that a little of it
extinguishes all our pleasures. A little bitter mingled in our cup,
leaves no relish of the sweet. Hence it comes that, at any rate, we
desire to be rid of the present evil, which we are apt to think nothing
absent can equal; because, under the present pain, we find not
ourselves capable of any the least degree of happiness. Men’s daily
complaints are a loud proof of this: the pain that any one actually
feels is still of all other the worst; and it is with anguish they cry
out,—‘Any rather than this: nothing can be so intolerable as what I now
suffer.’ And therefore our whole endeavours and thoughts are intent to
get rid of the present evil, before all things, as the first necessary
condition to our happiness; let what will follow. Nothing, as we
passionately think, can exceed, or almost equal, the uneasiness that
sits so heavy upon us. And because the abstinence from a present
pleasure that offers itself is a pain, nay, oftentimes a very great
one, the desire being inflamed by a near and tempting object, it is no
wonder that that operates after the same manner pain does, and lessens
in our thoughts what is future; and so forces us, as it were blindfold,
into its embraces.
67. Absent good unable to counterbalance present uneasiness.
Add to this, that absent good, or, which is the same thing, future
pleasure,—especially if of a sort we are unacquainted with,—seldom is
able to counterbalance any uneasiness, either of pain or desire, which
is present. For, its greatness being no more than what shall be really
tasted when enjoyed, men are apt enough to lessen that; to make it give
place to any present desire; and conclude with themselves that, when it
comes to trial, it may possibly not answer the report or opinion that
generally passes of it: they having often found that, not only what
others have magnified, but even what they themselves have enjoyed with
great pleasure and delight at one time, has proved insipid or nauseous
at another; and therefore they see nothing in it for which they should
forego a present enjoyment. But that this is a false way of judging,
when applied to the happiness of another life, they must confess;
unless they will say, God cannot make those happy he designs to be so.
For that being intended for a state of happiness, it must certainly be
agreeable to every one’s wish and desire: could we suppose their
relishes as different there as they are here, yet the manna in heaven
will suit every one’s palate. Thus much of the wrong judgment we make
of present and future pleasure and pain, when they are compared
together, and so the absent considered as future.
68. Wrong judgment in considering Consequences of Actions.
(II). As to THINGS GOOD OR BAD IN THEIR CONSEQUENCES, and by the
aptness that is in them to procure us good or evil in the future, we
judge amiss several ways.
1. When we judge that so much evil does not really depend on them as in
truth there does.
2. When we judge that, though the consequence be of that moment, yet it
is not of that certainty, but that it may otherwise fall out, or else
by some means be avoided; as by industry, address, change, repentance,
&c.
That these are wrong ways of judging, were easy to show in every
particular, if I would examine them at large singly: but I shall only
mention this in general, viz. that it is a very wrong and irrational
way of proceeding, to venture a greater good for a less, upon uncertain
guesses; and before a due examination be made, proportionable to the
weightiness of the matter, and the concernment it is to us not to
mistake. This I think every one must confess, especially if he
considers the usual cause of this wrong judgment, whereof these
following are some:—
69. Causes of this.
(i) IGNORANCE: He that judges without informing himself to the utmost
that he is capable, cannot acquit himself of judging amiss.
(ii) INADVERTENCY: When a man overlooks even that which he does know.
This is an affected and present ignorance, which misleads our judgments
as much as the other. Judging is, as it were, balancing an account, and
determining on which side the odds lie. If therefore either side be
huddled up in haste, and several of the sums that should have gone into
the reckoning be overlooked and left out, this precipitancy causes as
wrong a judgment as if it were a perfect ignorance. That which most
commonly causes this is, the prevalency of some present pleasure or
pain, heightened by our feeble passionate nature, most strongly wrought
on by what is present. To check this precipitancy, our understanding
and reason were given us, if we will make a right use of them, to
search and see, and then judge thereupon. How much sloth and
negligence, heat and passion, the prevalency of fashion or acquired
indispositions do severally contribute, on occasion, to these wrong
judgments, I shall not here further inquire. I shall only add one other
false judgment, which I think necessary to mention, because perhaps it
is little taken notice of, though of great influence.
70. Wrong judgment of what is necessary to our Happiness.
All men desire happiness, that is past doubt: but, as has been already
observed, when they are rid of pain, they are apt to take up with any
pleasure at hand, or that custom has endeared to them; to rest
satisfied in that; and so being happy, till some new desire, by making
them uneasy, disturbs that happiness, and shows them that they are not
so, they look no further; nor is the will determined to any action in
pursuit of any other known or apparent good. For since we find that we
cannot enjoy all sorts of good, but one excludes another; we do not fix
our desires on every apparent greater good, unless it be judged to be
necessary to our happiness: if we think we can be happy without it, it
moves us not. This is another occasion to men of judging wrong; when
they take not that to be necessary to their happiness which really is
so. This mistake misleads us, both in the choice of the good we aim at,
and very often in the means to it, when it is a remote good. But, which
way ever it be, either by placing it where really it is not, or by
neglecting the means as not necessary to it;—when a man misses his
great end, happiness, he will acknowledge he judged not right. That
which contributes to this mistake is the real or supposed
unpleasantness of the actions which are the way to this end; it seeming
so preposterous a thing to men, to make themselves unhappy in order to
happiness, that they do not easily bring themselves to it.
71. We can change the Agreeableness or Disagreeableness in Things.
The last inquiry, therefore, concerning this matter is,—Whether it be
in a man’s power to change the pleasantness and unpleasantness that
accompanies any sort of action? And as to that, it is plain, in many
cases he can. Men may and should correct their palates, and give relish
to what either has, or they suppose has none. The relish of the mind is
as various as that of the body, and like that too may be altered; and
it is a mistake to think that men cannot change the displeasingness or
indifferency that is in actions into pleasure and desire, if they will
do but what is in their power. A due consideration will do it in some
cases; and practice, application, and custom in most. Bread or tobacco
may be neglected where they are shown to be useful to health, because
of an indifferency or disrelish to them; reason and consideration at
first recommends, and begins their trial, and use finds, or custom
makes them pleasant. That this is so in virtue too, is very certain.
Actions are pleasing or displeasing, either in themselves, or
considered as a means to a greater and more desirable end. The eating
of a well-seasoned dish, suited to a man’s palate, may move the mind by
the delight itself that accompanies the eating, without reference to
any other end; to which the consideration of the pleasure there is in
health and strength (to which that meat is subservient) may add a new
GUSTO, able to make us swallow an ill-relished potion. In the latter of
these, any action is rendered more or less pleasing, only by the
contemplation of the end, and the being more or less persuaded of its
tendency to it, or necessary connexion with it: but the pleasure of the
action itself is best acquired or increased by use and practice. Trials
often reconcile us to that, which at a distance we looked on with
aversion; and by repetitions wear us into a liking of what possibly, in
the first essay, displeased us. Habits have powerful charms, and put so
strong attractions of easiness and pleasure into what we accustom
ourselves to, that we cannot forbear to do, or at least be easy in the
omission of, actions, which habitual practice has suited, and thereby
recommends to us. Though this be very visible, and every one’s
experience shows him he can do so; yet it is a part in the conduct of
men towards their happiness, neglected to a degree, that it will be
possibly entertained as a paradox, if it be said, that men can MAKE
things or actions more or less pleasing to themselves; and thereby
remedy that, to which one may justly impute a great deal of their
wandering. Fashion and the common opinion having settled wrong notions,
and education and custom ill habits, the just values of things are
misplaced, and the palates of men corrupted. Pains should be taken to
rectify these; and contrary habits change our pleasures, and give a
relish to that which is necessary or conducive to our happiness. This
every one must confess he can do; and when happiness is lost, and
misery overtakes him, he will confess he did amiss in neglecting it,
and condemn himself for it; and I ask every one, whether he has not
often done so?
72. Preference of Vice to Virtue a manifest wrong Judgment.
I shall not now enlarge any further on the wrong judgments and neglect
of what is in their power, whereby men mislead themselves. This would
make a volume, and is not my business. But whatever false notions, or
shameful neglect of what is in their power, may put men out of their
way to happiness, and distract them, as we see, into so different
courses of life, this yet is certain, that morality established upon
its true foundations, cannot but determine the choice in any one that
will but consider: and he that will not be so far a rational creature
as to reflect seriously upon INFINITE happiness and misery, must needs
condemn himself as not making that use of his understanding he should.
The rewards and punishments of another life which the Almighty has
established, as the enforcements of his law, are of weight enough to
determine the choice against whatever pleasure or pain this life can
show, where the eternal state is considered but in its bare possibility
which nobody can make any doubt of. He that will allow exquisite and
endless happiness to be but the possible consequence of a good life
here, and the contrary state the possible reward of a bad one, must own
himself to judge very much amiss if he does not conclude,—That a
virtuous life, with the certain expectation of everlasting bliss, which
may come, is to be preferred to a vicious one, with the fear of that
dreadful state of misery, which it is very possible may overtake the
guilty; or, at best, the terrible uncertain hope of annihilation. This
is evidently so, though the virtuous life here had nothing but pain,
and the vicious continual pleasure: which yet is, for the most part,
quite otherwise, and wicked men have not much the odds to brag of, even
in their present possession; nay, all things rightly considered, have,
I think, even the worse part here. But when infinite happiness is put
into one scale, against infinite misery in the other; if the worst that
comes to the pious man, if he mistakes, be the best that the wicked can
attain to, if he be in the right, who can without madness run the
venture? Who in his wits would choose to come within a possibility of
infinite misery; which if he miss, there is yet nothing to be got by
that hazard? Whereas, on the other side, the sober man ventures nothing
against infinite happiness to be got, if his expectation comes not to
pass. If the good man be in the right, he is eternally happy; if he
mistakes, he is not miserable, he feels nothing. On the other side, if
the wicked man be in the right, he is not happy; if he mistakes, he is
infinitely miserable. Must it not be a most manifest wrong judgment
that does not presently see to which side, in this case, the preference
is to be given? I have forborne to mention anything of the certainty or
probability of a future state, designing here to show the wrong
judgment that any one must allow he makes, upon his own principles,
laid how he pleases, who prefers the short pleasures of a vicious life
upon any consideration, whilst he knows, and cannot but be certain,
that a future life is at least possible.
73. Recapitulation—Liberty of indifferency.
To conclude this inquiry into human liberty, which, as it stood before,
I myself from the beginning fearing, and a very judicious friend of
mine, since the publication, suspecting to have some mistake in it,
though he could not particularly show it me, I was put upon a stricter
review of this chapter. Wherein lighting upon a very easy and scarce
observable slip I had made, in putting one seemingly indifferent word
for another that discovery opened to me this present view, which here,
in this second edition, I submit to the learned world, and which, in
short, is this: LIBERTY is a power to act or not to act, according as
the mind directs. A power to direct the operative faculties to motion
or rest in particular instances is that which we call the WILL. That
which in the train of our voluntary actions determines the will to any
change of operation is SOME PRESENT UNEASINESS, which is, or at least
is always accompanied with that of DESIRE. Desire is always moved by
evil, to fly it: because a total freedom from pain always makes a
necessary part of our happiness: but every good, nay, every greater
good, does not constantly move desire, because it may not make, or may
not be taken to make, any necessary part of our happiness. For all that
we desire, is only to be happy. But, though this general desire of
happiness operates constantly and invariably, yet the satisfaction of
any particular desire CAN BE SUSPENDED from determining the will to any
subservient action, till we have maturely examined whether the
particular apparent good which we then desire makes a part of our real
happiness, or be consistent or inconsistent with it. The result of our
judgment upon that examination is what ultimately determines the man;
who could not be FREE if his will were determined by anything but his
own desire, guided by his own judgment.
74. Active and passive power, in motions and in thinking.
True notions concerning the nature and extent of LIBERTY are of so
great importance, that I hope I shall be pardoned this digression,
which my attempt to explain it has led me into. The ideas of will,
volition, liberty, and necessity, in this Chapter of Power, came
naturally in my way. In a former edition of this Treatise I gave an
account of my thoughts concerning them, according to the light I then
had. And now, as a lover of truth, and not a worshipper of my own
doctrines, I own some change of my opinion; which I think I have
discovered ground for. In what I first writ, I with an unbiassed
indifferency followed truth, whither I thought she led me. But neither
being so vain as to fancy infallibility, nor so disingenuous as to
dissemble my mistakes for fear of blemishing my reputation, I have,
with the same sincere design for truth only, not been ashamed to
publish what a severer inquiry has suggested. It is not impossible but
that some may think my former notions right; and some (as I have
already found) these latter; and some neither. I shall not at all
wonder at this variety in men’s opinions: impartial deductions of
reason in controverted points being so rare, and exact ones in abstract
notions not so very easy especially if of any length. And, therefore, I
should think myself not a little beholden to any one, who would, upon
these or any other grounds, fairly clear this subject of LIBERTY from
any difficulties that may yet remain.
75. Summary of our Original ideas.
And thus I have, in a short draught, given a view of OUR ORIGINAL
IDEAS, from whence all the rest are derived, and of which they are made
up; which, if I would consider as a philosopher, and examine on what
causes they depend, and of what they are made, I believe they all might
be reduced to these very few primary and original ones, viz. EXTENSION,
SOLIDITY, MOBILITY, or the power of being moved; which by our senses we
receive from body: PERCEPTIVITY, or the power of perception, or
thinking; MOTIVITY, or the power of moving: which by reflection we
receive from OUR MINDS.
I crave leave to make use of these two new words, to avoid the danger
of being mistaken in the use of those which are equivocal.
To which if we add EXISTENCE, DURATION, NUMBER, which belong both to
the one and the other, we have, perhaps, all the original ideas on
which the rest depend. For by these, I imagine, might be EXPLAINED the
nature of colours, sounds, tastes, smells, and ALL OTHER IDEAS WE HAVE,
if we had but faculties acute enough to perceive the severally modified
extensions and motions of these minute bodies, which produce those
several sensations in us. But my present purpose being only to inquire
into the knowledge the mind has of things, by those ideas and
appearances which God has fitted it to receive from them, and how the
mind comes by that knowledge; rather than into their causes or manner
of Production, I shall not, contrary to the design of this Essay, see
myself to inquire philosophically into the peculiar constitution of
BODIES, and the configuration of parts, whereby THEY have the power to
produce in us the ideas of their sensible qualities. I shall not enter
any further into that disquisition; it sufficing to my purpose to
observe, that gold or saffron has power to produce in us the idea of
yellow, and snow or milk the idea of white, which we can only have by
our sight without examining the texture of the parts of those bodies or
the particular figures or motion of the particles which rebound from
them, to cause in us that particular sensation, though, when we go
beyond the bare ideas in our minds and would inquire into their causes,
we cannot conceive anything else to be in any sensible object, whereby
it produces different ideas in us, but the different bulk, figure,
number, texture, and motion of its insensible parts.