[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]
_J. D._ “Fourthly, the natural philosopher doth teach, that the will
doth necessarily follow the last dictate of the understanding. It is
true indeed the will should follow the direction of the understanding;
but I am not satisfied that it doth evermore follow it. Sometimes this
saying hath place: _video meliora proboque, deteriora sequor_. As that
great Roman said of two suitors, that the one produced the better
reasons, but the other must have the office. So reason often lies
dejected at the feet of affection. Things nearer to the senses move more
powerfully. Do what a man can, he shall sorrow more for the death of his
child, than for the sin of his soul; yet appreciatively in the
estimation of judgment, he accounts the offence of God a greater evil
than any temporal loss.
“Next, I do not believe that a man is bound to weigh the expedience or
inexpedience of every ordinary trivial action to the least grain in the
balance of his understanding; or to run up into his watch-tower with his
perspective to take notice of every jackdaw that flies by, for fear of
some hidden danger. This seems to me to be a prostitution of reason to
petit observations as concerning every rag that a man wears, each drop
of drink, each morsel of bread that he eats, each pace that he walks.
Thus many steps must he go, not one more nor one less, under pain of
mortal sin. What is this but a rack and a gibbet to the conscience? But
God leaves many things indifferent: though man may be so curious, he
will not. A good architect will be sure to provide sufficient materials
for his building; but what particular number of stones or trees, he
troubles not his head. And suppose he _should_ weigh each action thus,
yet he _doth_ not; so still there is liberty. Thirdly, I conceive it is
possible in this mist and weakness of human apprehension, for two
actions to be so equally circumstantiated, that no discernible
difference can appear between them upon discussion. As suppose a
chirurgeon should give two plaisters to his patient, and bid him apply
either of them to his wound; what can induce his reason more to the one
than to the other, but that he may refer it to chance whether he will
use?
But leaving these probable speculations, which I submit to better
judgments, I answer the philosopher briefly thus: admitting that the
will did necessarily follow the last dictate of the understanding, as
certainly in many things it doth: yet, first, this is no extrinsical
determination from without, and a man’s own resolution is not
destructive to his own liberty, but depends upon it. So the person is
still free.
“Secondly, this determination is not antecedent, but joined with the
action. The understanding and the will, are not different agents, but
distinct faculties of the same soul. Here is an infallibility, or an
hypothetical necessity as we say, _quicquid est, quando est, necesse est
esse_: a necessity of consequence, but not a necessity of consequent.
Though an agent have certainly determined, and so the action be become
infallible, yet if the agent did determine freely, the action likewise
is free.”
_T. H._ The fourth opinion which he rejecteth, is of them that make the
will necessarily to follow the last dictate of the understanding; but it
seems he understands that tenet in another sense than I do. For he
speaketh as if they that held it, did suppose men must dispute the
sequel of every action they do, great and small, to the least grain;
which is a thing that he thinks with reason to be untrue. But I
understand it to signify, that the will follows the last opinion or
judgment, immediately preceding the action, concerning whether it be
good to do it or not; whether he hath weighed it long before, or not at
all. And that I take to be the meaning of them that hold it. As for
example: when a man strikes, his will to strike follows necessarily that
thought he had of the sequel of his stroke, immediately before the
lifting of his hand. Now if it be understood in that sense, the last
dictate of the understanding does certainly necessitate the action,
though not as the whole cause, yet as the last cause: as the last
feather necessitates the breaking of a horse’s back, when there are so
many laid on before, as there needeth but the addition of that one to
make the weight sufficient. That which he allegeth against this, is
first, out of a poet, who in the person of Medea says, _video meliora
proboque, deteriora sequor_. But the saying, as pretty as it is, is not
true. For though Medea saw many reasons to forbear killing her children,
yet the last dictate of her judgment was that the present revenge on her
husband outweighed them all; and thereupon the wicked action followed
necessarily. Then the story of the Roman, that of two competitors said
one had the better reasons, but the other must have the office: this
also maketh against him. For the last dictate of his judgment that had
the bestowing of the office, was this; that it was better to take a
great bribe, than reward a great merit. Thirdly, he objects, that things
nearer the senses move more powerfully than reason. What followeth
thence but this; that the sense of the present good is commonly more
immediate to the action, than the foresight of the evil consequents to
come? Fourthly, whereas he says, that do what a man can, he shall sorrow
more for the death of his son, than for the sin of his soul: it makes
nothing to the last dictate of the understanding; but it argues plainly,
that sorrow for sin is not voluntary. And by consequence, repentance
proceedeth from causes.
_J. D._ “The fourth pretence alleged against liberty was, that the will
doth necessarily follow the last dictate of the understanding. This
objection is largely answered before in several places of this reply,
and particularly No. VII. In my former discourse I gave two answers to
it: the one certain and undoubted, that (_a_) supposing the last dictate
of the understanding did always determine the will, yet this
determination being not antecedent in time, nor proceeding from
extrinsical causes, but from the proper resolution of the agent, who had
now freely determined himself, it makes no absolute necessity, but only
hypothetical, upon supposition that the agent hath determined his own
will after this or that manner. Which being the main answer, T. H. is so
far from taking it away, that he takes no notice of it. The other part
of mine answer was probable; that it is not always certain that the will
doth always actually follow the last dictate of the understanding,
though it always ought to follow it. (_b_) Of which I gave then three
reasons. One was, that actions may be so equally circumstantiated, or
the case so intricate, that reason cannot give a positive sentence, but
leaves the election to liberty or chance. To this he answers not a word.
Another of my reasons was, because reason doth not weigh, nor is bound
to weigh the convenience or inconvenience of every individual action to
the uttermost grain in the balance of true judgment. The truth of this
reason is confessed by T. H.; though he might have had more abetters in
this than in the most part of his discourse, that nothing is
indifferent; that a man cannot stroke his beard on one side, but it was
either necessary to do it, or sinful to omit it. From which confession
of his it follows, that in all those actions wherein reason doth not
define what is most convenient, there the will is free from the
determination of the understanding; and by consequence the last feather
is wanting to break the horse’s back. A third reason was, because
passions and affections sometimes prevail against judgment: as I proved
by the example of Medea and Cæsar, by the nearness of the objects to the
senses, and by the estimation of a temporal loss more than sin. Against
this reason his whole answer is addressed. And first, (_c_) he
explaineth the sense of the assertion by the comparison of the last
feather; wherewith he seems to be delighted, seeing he useth it now the
second time. But let him like it as he will, it is improper, for three
reasons. First, the determination of the judgment is no part of the
weight, but is the sentence of the trier. The understanding weigheth all
things, objects, means, circumstances, convenience, inconvenience; but
itself is not weighed. Secondly, the sensitive passion, in some
extraordinary cases, may give a counterfeit weight to the object, if it
can detain or divert reason from the balance: but ordinarily the means,
circumstances, and causes concurrent, they have their whole weight from
the understanding; so as they do not press the horse’s back at all,
until reason lay them on. Thirdly, he conceives that as each feather has
a certain natural weight, whereby it concurs not arbitrarily, but
necessarily towards the overcharging of the horse; so all objects and
causes have a natural efficiency, whereby they do physically determine
the will; which is a great mistake. His objects, his agents, his
motives, his passions, and all his concurrent causes, ordinarily do only
move the will morally, not determine it naturally. So as it hath in all
ordinary actions a free dominion over itself.
“His other example, of a man that strikes, ‘whose will to strike
followeth necessarily that thought he had of the sequel of his stroke,
immediately before the lifting up of his hand’: as it confounds
passionate, indeliberate thoughts, with the dictates of right reason, so
it is very uncertain; for between the cup and the lip, between the
lifting up of the hand and the blow, the will may alter, and the
judgment also. And lastly, it is impertinent; for that necessity of
striking proceeds from the free determination of the agent, and not from
the special influence of any outward determining causes. And so it is
only a necessity upon supposition.
“Concerning Medea’s choice, the strength of the argument doth not lie
either in the fact of Medea, which is but a fiction, or in the authority
of the poet, who writes things rather to be admired than believed, but
in the experience of all men: who find it to be true in themselves, that
sometimes reason doth shew unto a man the exorbitancy of his passion,
that what he desires is but a pleasant good, that what he loseth by such
a choice is an honest good, that that which is honest is to be preferred
before that which is pleasant; yet the will pursues that which is
pleasant, and neglects that which is honest. St. Paul (Rom. vii. 15)
saith as much in earnest, as is feigned of Medea: that _he approved not
that which he did_, and that _he did that which he hated_. The Roman
story is mistaken: there was no bribe in the case but affection. Whereas
I urge, that those things which are nearer to the senses do move more
powerfully, he lays hold on it; and without answering to that for which
I produced it, infers, ‘that the sense of present good, is more
immediate to the action than the foresight of evil consequents’: which
is true; but it is not absolutely true by any antecedent necessity. Let
a man do what he may do, and what he ought to do, and sensitive objects
will lose that power which they have by his own fault and neglect.
Antecedent or indeliberate concupiscence doth sometimes, but rarely,
surprise a man, and render the action not free. But consequent and
deliberated concupiscence, which proceeds from the rational will, doth
render the action more free, not less free, and introduceth only a
necessity upon supposition.
“Lastly, he saith, that ‘a man’s mourning more for the loss of his child
than for his sin, makes nothing to the last dictates of the
understanding’. Yes, very much. Reason dictates that a sin committed is
a greater evil than the loss of a child, and ought more to be lamented
for: yet we see daily how affection prevails against the dictate of
reason. That which he infers from hence, that ‘sorrow for sin is not
voluntary, and by consequence that repentance proceedeth from causes’;
is true as to the latter part of it, but not in his sense. The causes
from whence repentance doth proceed, are God’s grace preventing, and
man’s will concurring. God prevents freely, man concurs freely. Those
inferior agents, which sometimes do concur as subordinate to the grace
of God, do not, cannot, determine the will naturally. And therefore the
former part of his inference, that sorrow for sin is not voluntary, is
untrue, and altogether groundless. That is much more truly and much more
properly said to be voluntary, which proceeds from judgment and from the
rational will, than that which proceeds from passion and from the
sensitive will. One of the main grounds of all T. H.’s errors in this
question is, that he acknowledgeth no efficacy but that which is
natural. Hence is this wild consequence; ‘repentance hath causes’, and
therefore ‘it is not voluntary’. Free effects have free causes,
necessary effects necessary causes: voluntary effects have sometimes
free, sometimes necessary causes.”