(_a_) “Thus much I will maintain, that this is no true necessity, which
he calleth necessity; nor that liberty which he calleth liberty; nor
that the question, which he makes the question,” &c. “For the clearing
whereof, it behoveth us to know the difference between these three,
_necessity_, _spontaneity_, and _liberty_.”
I did expect, that for the knowing of the difference between
_necessity_, _spontaneity_, and _liberty_, he would have set down their
definitions. For without these, their difference cannot possibly appear.
For how can a man know how things differ, unless he first know what they
are? which he offers not to shew. He tells us that _necessity_ and
_spontaneity_ may meet together, and _spontaneity_ and _liberty_; but
_necessity_ and _liberty_ never; and many other things impertinent to
the purpose. For which, because of the length, I refer the reader to the
place. I note only this, that _spontaneity_ is a word not used in common
English; and they that understand Latin, know it means no more than
_appetite_, or _will_, and is not found but in living creatures. And
seeing, he saith, that _necessity_ and _spontaneity_ may stand together,
I may say also, that _necessity_ and _will_ may stand together, and then
is not the will free, as he would have it, from necessitation. There are
many other things in that which followeth, which I had rather the reader
would consider in his own words, to which I refer him, than that I
should give him greater trouble in reciting them again. For I do not
fear it will be thought too hot for my fingers, to shew the vanity of
such words as these, _intellectual appetite_, _conformity of the
appetite to the object_, _rational will_, _elective power of the
rational will_; nor understand I how reason can be the root of true
liberty, if the Bishop, as he saith in the beginning, had the liberty to
write this discourse. I understand how objects, and the conveniences and
the inconveniences of them may be represented to a man, by the help of
his senses; but how reason representeth anything to the will, I
understand no more than the Bishop understands how there may be liberty
in children, in beasts, and inanimate creatures. For he seemeth to
wonder how children may be left at liberty; how beasts in prison may be
set at liberty; and how a river may have a free course; and saith,
“What! will he ascribe liberty to inanimate creatures, also?” And thus
he thinks he hath made it clear how _necessity_, _spontaneity_, and
_liberty_ differ from one another. If the reader find it so, I am
contented.
(_b_) “His necessity is just such another; a necessity upon supposition,
arising from the concourse of all the causes, including the last dictate
of the understanding in reasonable creatures,” &c.
The Bishop might easily have seen, that the necessity I hold, is the
same necessity that he denies; namely, a necessity of things future,
that is, an antecedent necessity derived from the very beginning of
time; and that I put necessity for an impossibility of not being, and
that impossibility as well as possibility are never truly said but of
the future. I know as well as he that the cause, when it is adequate, as
he calleth it, or entire, as I call it, is together in time with the
effect. But for all that, the necessity may be and is before the effect,
as much as any necessity can be. And though he call it a necessity of
supposition, it is no more so than all other necessity is. The fire
burneth necessarily; but not without supposition that there is fuel put
to it. And it burneth the fuel, when it is put to it, necessarily; but
it is by supposition, that the ordinary course of nature is not
hindered; for the fire burnt not the three children in the furnace.
(_c_) “But if these causes did operate freely or contingently, if they
might have suspended or denied their concurrence, or have concurred
after another manner, then the effect was not truly and antecedently
necessary, but either free or contingent.”
It seems by this he understands not what these words, _free_ and
_contingent_, mean. A little before, he wondered I should attribute
liberty to inanimate creatures, and now he puts causes amongst those
things that operate freely. By these causes it seems he understandeth
only men, whereas I shewed before that liberty is usually ascribed to
whatsoever agent is not hindered. And when a man doth any thing freely,
there be many other agents immediate, that concur to the effect he
intendeth, which work not freely, but necessarily; as when the man
moveth the sword _freely_, the sword woundeth necessarily, nor can
suspend or deny its concurrence; and consequently if the man move not
himself, the man cannot deny his concurrence. To which he cannot reply,
unless he say a man originally can move himself; for which he will be
able to find no authority of any that have but tasted of the knowledge
of motion. Then for _contingent_, he understandeth not what it meaneth.
For it is all one to say it is _contingent_, and simply to say _it is_;
saving that when they say simply _it is_, they consider not how or by
what means; but in saying it is _contingent_, they tell us they know not
whether necessarily or not. But the Bishop thinking contingent to be
that which is not necessary, instead of arguing against our knowledge of
the necessity of things to come, argueth against the necessity itself.
Again, he supposeth that free and contingent causes might have suspended
or denied their concurrence. From which it followeth, that free causes,
and contingent causes, are not causes of themselves, but concurrent with
other causes, and therefore can produce nothing but as they are guided
by those causes with which they concur. For it is strange he should say,
they might have concurred after another manner; for I conceive not how,
when this runneth one way, and that another, that they can be said to
concur, that is, run together. And this his concurrence of causes
contingent, maketh, he saith, the cast of _ambs-ace_ not to have been
absolutely necessary. Which cannot be conceived, unless it had hindered
it; and then it had made some other cast necessary, perhaps _deux-ace_,
which serveth me as well. For that which he saith of suspending his
concurrence, of casting sooner or later, of altering the caster’s force,
and the like accidents, serve not to take away the necessity of
_ambs-ace_, otherwise than by making a necessity of _deux-ace_, or other
cast that shall be thrown.
(_d_) “Thirdly, that which T. H. makes the question, is not the
question,” &c.
He hath very little reason to say this. He requested me to tell him my
opinion in writing concerning free-will. Which I did, and did let him
know a man was free, in those things that were in his power, to follow
his will; but that he was not free to will, that is, that his will did
not follow his will. Which I expressed in these words: “The question is,
whether the will to write, or the will to forbear, come upon a man
according to his will, or according to any thing else in his own power.”
He that cannot understand the difference between _free to do if he
will_, and _free to will_, is not fit, as I have said in the stating of
the question, to hear this controversy disputed, much less to be a
writer in it. His consequence, “if a man be not free to will, he is not
a free nor a voluntary agent,” and his saying, “the freedom of the agent
is from the freedom of the will,” is put here without proof; nor is
there any considerable proof of it through the whole book hereafter
offered. For why? He never before had heard, I believe, of any
distinction between free to do and free to will; which makes him also
say, “if the will have not power over itself, the agent is no more free,
than a staff in a man’s hand.” As if it were not freedom enough for a
man to do what he will, unless his will also have power over his will,
and that his will be not the power itself, but must have another power
within it to do all voluntary acts.
(_e_) “If it be precisely and inevitably determined in all occurrences
whatsoever, what a man shall will, and what he shall not will, and what
he shall write, and what he shall not write, to what purpose is this
power?” &c.
It is to this purpose, that all those things may be brought to pass,
which God hath from eternity predetermined. It is therefore to no
purpose here to say, that God and nature hath made nothing in vain. But
see what weak arguments he brings next, which, though answered in that
which is gone before, yet, if I answer not again, he will say they are
too hot for my fingers. One is: “If the agent be determined what he
shall will, and what he shall act, then he is no more free to act than
he is to will;” as if the will being necessitated, the doing of what we
will were not liberty. Another is: “If a man be free to act, he is much
more free to will; because _quod efficit tale, illud magis est tale_;”
as if he should say, “if I make him angry, then I am more angry; because
_quod efficit_,” &c. The third is: “If the will be determined, then the
writing is determined, and he ought not to say he _may_ write, but he
_must_ write.” It is true, it followeth that he must write, but it doth
not follow I ought to say he must write, unless he would have me say
more than I know, as himself doth often in this reply.
After his arguments come his difficult questions. “If the will of man be
determined without his will, or without any thing in his power, why do
we ask men whether they will do such a thing or not?” I answer, because
we desire to know, and cannot know but by their telling, nor then
neither, for the most part. “Why do we represent reasons to them? Why do
we pray them? Why do we entreat them?” I answer, because thereby we
think to make them have the will they have not. “Why do we blame them?”
I answer, because they please us not. I might ask him, whether blaming
be any thing else but saying the thing blamed is ill or imperfect? May
we not say a horse is lame, though his lameness came from necessity? or
that a man is a fool or a knave, if he be so, though he could not help
it? “To what purpose did our Saviour say to the paralytic person, _wilt
thou be made clean_, if his will were extrinsically determined?” I
answer, that it was not because he would know, for he knew it before;
but because he would draw from him a confession of his want. “_We have
piped unto you, and ye have not danced_; how could they help it?” I
answer they could not help it. “_I would have gathered your children as
the hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, but ye would not._ How
easily might they answer, according to T. H.’s doctrine, Alas! blame not
us, our wills are not in our own power?” I answer, they are to be blamed
though their wills be not in their own power. Is not good good, and evil
evil, though they be not in our power? and shall not I call them so? and
is not that praise and blame? But it seems the Bishop takes blame, not
for the dispraise of a thing, but for a pretext and colour of malice and
revenge against him he blameth. And where he says our wills are in our
power, he sees not that he speaks absurdly; for he ought to say, the
will is the power; and through ignorance detecteth the same fault in St.
Austin, who saith, “our will should not be a will at all, if it were not
in our power;” that is to say, if it were not in our will.
(_f_) “This is the belief of all mankind, which we have not learned from
our tutors, but is imprinted in our hearts by nature,” &c.
This piece of eloquence is used by Cicero in his defence of Milo, to
prove it lawful for a man to resist force with force, or to keep himself
from killing; which the Bishop, thinking himself able to make that which
proves one thing prove any thing, hath translated into English, and
brought into this place to prove free-will. It is true, very few have
learned from tutors, that a man is not free to will; nor do they find it
much in books. That they find in books, that which the poets chant in
their theatres and the shepherds in the mountains, that which the
pastors teach in the churches and the doctors in the universities, and
that which the common people in the markets, and all mankind in the
whole world do assent unto, is the same that I assent unto, namely, that
a man hath freedom to do if he will; but whether he hath freedom to
will, is a question which it seems neither the Bishop nor they ever
thought on.
(_g_) “No man blameth fire for burning cities, nor taxeth poison for
destroying men,” &c.
Here again he is upon his arguments from blame, which I have answered
before; and we do as much blame them as we do men. For we say fire hath
done hurt, and the poison hath killed a man, as well as we say the man
hath done unjustly; but we do not seek to be revenged of the fire and of
poison, because we cannot make them ask forgiveness, as we would make
men to do when they hurt us. So that the blaming of the one and the
other, that is, the declaring of the hurt or evil action done by them,
is the same in both; but the malice of man is only against man.
(_h_) “No man sins in doing those things which he could not shun.”
He may as well say, no man halts which cannot choose but halt; or
stumbles, that cannot choose but stumble. For what is sin, but halting
or stumbling in the way of God’s commandments?
(_i_) “The question then is not, whether a man be necessitated to will
or nill, yet free to act or forbear. But, saving the ambiguous
acceptions of the word _free_, the question is plainly this,” &c.
This question, which the Bishop stateth in this place, I have before set
down verbatim and allowed: and it is the same with mine, though he
perceive it not. But seeing I did nothing, but at his request set down
my opinion, there can be no other question between us in this
controversy, but whether my opinion be the truth or not.
(_k_) “So my preface remains yet unanswered. Either I was extrinsically
and inevitably predetermined to write this discourse,” &c.
That which he saith in the preface is, “that if he be not free to write
this discourse, he ought not to be blamed; but if he be free, he hath
obtained the cause.”
The first consequence I should have granted him, if he had written it
rationally and civilly; the latter I deny, and have shown that he ought
to have proved that a man is free to will. For that which he says, any
thing else whatsoever would think, if it knew it were moved, and did not
know what moved it. A wooden top that is lashed by the boys, and runs
about sometimes to one wall, sometimes to another, sometimes spinning,
sometimes hitting men on the shins, if it were sensible of its own
motion, would think it proceeded from its own will, unless it felt what
lashed it. And is a man any wiser, when he runs to one place for a
benefice, to another for a bargain, and troubles the world with writing
errors and requiring answers, because he thinks he doth it without other
cause than his own will, and seeth not what are the lashings that cause
his will?