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The English works of Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury, Volume 05 (of 11)

Chapter 11: NO. IV.
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About This Book

The work stages a systematic debate about whether events are produced by necessity, chance, or human freedom. Two interlocutors set out opposing positions and dissect scriptural, scholastic, and naturalistic arguments while clarifying key distinctions, especially between being free to act and being free to will. It challenges claims that divine foreknowledge or divine will makes future actions necessary, questions the efficacy of moral causation as distinct from natural causes, and considers how chance might operate. Arguments are arranged into definitional sections and practical consequences, with attention to religious, ethical, and everyday implications of each stance.

NO. IV.

The Bishop’s reply.

J. D. “And so to fall in hand with the question without any further proems or prefaces, by liberty, I do neither understand a liberty from sin, nor a liberty from misery, nor a liberty from servitude, nor a liberty from violence, but I understand a liberty from necessity, or rather from necessitation; that is, an universal immunity from all inevitability and determination to one; whether it be of exercise only, which the Schools call a liberty of contradiction, and is found in God and in the good and bad angels, that is, not a liberty to do both good and evil, but a liberty to do or not to do this or that good, this or that evil, respectively; or whether it be a liberty of specification and exercise also, which the Schools call liberty of contrariety, and is found in men endowed with reason and understanding, that is, a liberty to do and not to do good and evil, this or that. Thus the coast being cleared,” &c.

T. H. In the next place he maketh certain distinctions of liberty, and says, he means not liberty from sin, nor from servitude, nor from violence, but from necessity, necessitation, inevitability, and determination to one. It had been better to define liberty, than thus to distinguish; for I understand never the more what he means by liberty. And though he says he means liberty from necessitation, yet I understand not how such a liberty can be, and it is a taking of the question without proof. For what else is the question between us, but whether such a liberty be possible or not? There are in the same place other distinctions, as a liberty of exercise only, which he calls a liberty of contradiction, namely, of doing not good or evil simply, but of doing this or that good, or this or that evil, respectively: and a liberty of specification and exercise also, which he calls a liberty of contrariety, namely, a liberty not only to do or not to do good or evil, but also to do or not to do this or that good or evil. And with these distinctions, he says, he clears the coast, whereas in truth he darkeneth his meaning, not only with the jargon of exercise only, specification also, contradiction, contrariety, but also with pretending distinction where none is. For how is it possible for the liberty of doing or not doing this or that good or evil, to consist, as he saith it doth in God and Angels, without a liberty of doing or not doing good or evil?

J. D. (a) “It is a rule in art, that words which are homonymous, of various and ambiguous significations, ought ever in the first place to be distinguished. No men delight in confused generalities, but either sophisters or bunglers. Vir dolosus versatur in generalibus, deceitful men do not love to descend to particulars; and when bad archers shoot, the safest way is to run to the mark. Liberty is sometimes opposed to the slavery of sin and vicious habits, as (Romans vi. 22): Now being made free from sin. Sometimes to misery and oppression, (Isaiah lviii. 6): To let the oppressed go free. Sometimes to servitude, as (Leviticus xxv. 10): In the year of jubilee ye shall proclaim liberty throughout the land. Sometimes to violence, as (Psalms cv. 20): The prince of his people let him go free. Yet none of all these is the liberty now in question, but a liberty from necessity, that is, a determination to one, or rather from necessitation, that is, a necessity imposed by another, or an extrinsical determination. These distinctions do virtually imply a description of true liberty, which comes nearer the essence of it, than T. H.’s roving definition, as we shall see in due place. And though he say that ‘he understands never the more what I mean by liberty,’ yet it is plain, by his own ingenuous confession, both that he doth understand it, and that this is the very question where the water sticks between us, whether there be such a liberty free from all necessitation and extrinsical determination to one. Which being but the stating of the question, he calls it amiss ‘the taking of the question.’ It were too much weakness to beg this question, which is so copious and demonstrable. (b) It is strange to see with what confidence, now-a-days, particular men slight all the Schoolmen, and Philosophers, and classic authors of former ages, as if they were not worthy to unloose the shoe-strings of some modern author, or did sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, until some third Cato dropped down from heaven, to whom all men must repair, as to the altar of Prometheus, to light their torches. I did never wonder to hear a raw divine out of the pulpit declare against School Divinity to his equally ignorant auditors. It is but as the fox in the fable, who, having lost his own tail by a mischance, would have persuaded all his followers to cut off theirs, and throw them away as unprofitable burthens. But it troubles me to see a scholar, one who hath been long admitted into the innermost closet of nature, and seen the hidden secrets of more subtle learning, so far to forget himself as to style School-learning no better than a plain jargon, that is, a senseless gibberish, or a fustian language, like the chattering noise of sabots. Suppose they did sometimes too much cut truth into shreds, or delight in abstruse expressions, yet certainly this distinction of liberty into liberty of contrariety and liberty of contradiction, or which is all one, of exercise only, or exercise and specification jointly, which T. H. rejects with so much scorn, is so true, so necessary, so generally received, that there is scarce that writer of note, either divine or philosopher, who did ever treat upon this subject, but he useth it.

“Good and evil are contraries, or opposite kinds of things. Therefore to be able to choose both good and evil, is a liberty of contrariety, or of specification. To choose this, and not to choose this, are contradictory, or which is all one, an exercise or suspension of power. Therefore to be able to do or forbear to do the same action, or to choose or not choose the same object, without varying of the kind, is a liberty of contradiction, or of exercise only. Now a man is not only able to do or forbear to do good only, or evil only, but he is able both to do and to forbear to do both good and evil. So he hath not only a liberty of the action, but also a liberty of contrary objects; not only a liberty of exercise, but also of specification; not only a liberty of contradiction, but also of contrariety. On the other side, God and the good angels can do or not do this or that good; but they cannot do and not do both good and evil. So they have only a liberty of exercise or contradiction, but not a liberty of specification or contrariety. It appears then plainly, that the liberty of man is more large in the extension of the object, which is both good and evil, than the liberty of God and the good angels, whose object is only good. But withal the liberty of man comes short in the intention of the power. Man is not so free in respect of good only, as God or the good angels, because (not to speak of God, whose liberty is quite of another nature) the understandings of the angels are clearer, their power and dominion over their actions is greater, they have no sensitive appetites to distract them, no organs to be disturbed. We see, then, this distinction is cleared from all darkness.

“And where T. H. demands, how it is possible for the liberty of doing or not doing this or that good or evil, to consist in God and angels, without a liberty of doing or not doing good or evil? the answer is obvious and easy, referendo singula singulis, rendering every act to its right object respectively. God and good angels have a power to do or not to do this or that good, bad angels have a power to do or not to do this or that evil; so both, jointly considered, have power respectively to do good or evil. And yet, according to the words of my discourse, God and good and bad angels, being singly considered, have no power to do good or evil, that is, indifferently, as man hath.”

ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. IV.

He intendeth here to make good the distinctions of liberty of exercise, and liberty of contradiction; liberty of contrariety, and liberty of specification and exercise. And he begins thus:

(a) “It is a rule in art, that words which are homonymous, or of various and ambiguous significations, ought ever in the first place to be distinguished,” &c.

I know not what art it is that giveth this rule. I am sure it is not the art of reason, which men call logic. For reason teacheth, and the example of those who only reason methodically, (which are the mathematicians), that a man, when he will demonstrate the truth of what he is to say, must in the first place determine what he will have to be understood by his words; which determination is called definition; whereby the significations of his words are so clearly set down, that there can creep in no ambiguity. And therefore there will be no need of distinctions; and consequently his rule of art, is a rash precept of some ignorant man, whom he and others have followed.

The Bishop tells us that liberty is sometimes opposed to sin, to oppression, to servitude; which is to tell us, that they whom he hath read in this point, are inconsistent in the meaning of their own words; and, therefore, they are little beholden to him. And this diversity of significations he calls distinctions. Do men that by the same word in one place mean one thing, and in another another, and never tell us so, distinguish? I think they rather confound. And yet he says, that “these distinctions do virtually imply a description of true liberty, which cometh nearer the essence of it, than T. H.’s roving definition;” which definition of mine was this: “liberty is when there is no external impediment.” So that in his opinion a man shall sooner understand liberty by reading these words, (Romans vi. 22): Being made free from sin; or these words, (Isaiah lviii. 6): To let the oppressed go free; or by these words, (Leviticus xxv. 10): You shall proclaim liberty throughout the land, than by these words of mine: “liberty is the absence of external impediments to motion.” Also he will face me down, that I understand what he means by his distinctions of liberty of contrariety, of contradiction, of exercise only, of exercise and specification jointly. If he mean I understand his meaning, in one sense it is true. For by them he means to shift off the discredit of being able to say nothing to the question; as they do that, pretending to know the cause of every thing, give for the cause of why the load-stone draweth to it iron, sympathy, and occult quality; making they cannot tell, (turned now into occult), to stand for the real cause of that most admirable effect. But that those words signify distinction, I constantly deny. It is not enough for a distinction to be forked; it ought to signify a distinct conception. There is great difference between duadeduade distinctions and cloven feet.

(b) “It is strange to see with what confidence now-a-days particular men slight all the Schoolmen, and philosophers, and classic authors of former ages,” &c.

This word, particular men, is put here, in my opinion, with little judgment, especially by a man that pretendeth to be learned. Does the Bishop think that he himself is, or that there is any universal man? It may be he means a private man. Does he then think there is any man not private, besides him that is endued with sovereign power? But it is most likely he calls me a particular man, because I have not had the authority he has had, to teach what doctrine I think fit. But now, I am no more particular than he; and may with as good a grace despise the Schoolmen and some of the old Philosophers, as he can despise me, unless he can shew that it is more likely that he should be better able to look into these questions sufficiently, which require meditation and reflection upon a man’s own thoughts, he that hath been obliged most of his time to preach unto the people, and to that end to read those authors that can best furnish him with what he has to say, and to study for the rhetoric of his expressions, and of the spare time (which to a good pastor is very little) hath spent no little part in seeking preferment and increasing of riches; than I, that have done almost nothing else, nor have had much else to do but to meditate upon this and other natural questions. It troubles him much that I style School-learning jargon. I do not call all School-learning so, but such as is so; that is, that which they say in defending of untruths, and especially in the maintenance of free-will, when they talk of liberty of exercise, specification, contrariety, contradiction, acts elicite and exercite and the like; which, though he go over again in this place, endeavouring to explain them, are still both here and there but jargon, or that (if he like it better) which the Scripture in the first chaos calleth Tohu and Bohu.

But because he takes it so heinously, that a private man should so hardly censure School-divinity, I would be glad to know with what patience he can hear Martin Luther and Philip Melancthon speaking of the same? Martin Luther, that was the first beginner of our deliverance from the servitude of the Romish clergy, had these three articles censured by the University of Paris. The first of which was: “School-theology is a false interpretation of the Scripture, and Sacraments, which hath banished from us true and sincere theology.” The second is: “At what time School-theology, that is, mock-theology, came up, at the same time the theology of Christ’s Cross went down.” The third is: “It is now almost three hundred years since the Church has endured the licentiousness of School-Doctors in corrupting of the Scriptures.” Moreover, the same Luther in another place of his work saith thus; “School-theology is nothing else but ignorance of the truth, and a block to stumble at laid before the Scriptures.” And of Thomas Aquinas in particular he saith, that “it was he that did set up the kingdom of Aristotle, the destroyer of godly doctrine.” And of the philosophy whereof St. Paul biddeth us beware, he saith it is School-theology. And Melancthon, a divine once much esteemed in our Church, saith of it thus: “It is known that that profane scholastic learning, which they will have to be called Divinity, began at Paris; which being admitted, nothing is left sound in the Church, the Gospel is obscured, faith extinguished, the doctrine of works received, and instead of Christ’s people, we are become not so much as the people of the law, but the people of Aristotle’s ethics These were no raw divines, such as he saith preached to their equally ignorant auditors. I could add to these the slighting of School-divinity by Calvin and other learned Protestant Doctors; yet were they all but private men, who, it seems to the Bishop, had forgot themselves as well as I.

NO. V.

J. D. “Thus the coast being cleared, the next thing to be done, is to draw out our forces against the enemy; and because they are divided into two squadrons, the one of Christians, the other of heathen philosophers, it will be best to dispose ours also into two bodies, the former drawn from Scripture, the latter from reason.”

T. H. The next thing he doth, after the clearing of the coast, is the dividing of his forces, as he calls them, into two squadrons, one of places of Scripture, the other of reasons, which allegory he useth, I suppose, because he addresses the discourse to your Lordship, who is a military man. All that I have to say touching this, is, that I observe a great part of those his forces do look and march another way, and some of them do fight among themselves.

J. D. “If T. H. could divide my forces, and commit them together among themselves, it were his only way to conquer them. But he will find that those imaginary contradictions, which he thinks he hath espied in my discourse, are but fancies, and my supposed impertinences will prove his own real mistakings.”

In this fifth number there is nothing of his or mine, pertinent to the question, therefore nothing necessary to be repeated.

PROOFS OF LIBERTY OUT OF SCRIPTURE.--NO. VI.

The Bishop’s reply.

J. D. “First, whosoever have power of election, have true liberty; for the proper act of liberty is election. A spontaneity may consist with determination to one, as we see in children, fools, madmen, brute beasts, whose fancies are determined to those things which they act spontaneously, as the bees make honey, the spiders webs. But none of these have a liberty of election, which is an act of judgment and understanding, and cannot possibly consist with a determination to one. He that is determined by something before himself or without himself, cannot be said to choose or elect, unless it be as the junior of the mess chooseth in Cambridge, whether he will have the least part or nothing. And scarcely so much.

“But men have liberty of election. This is plain, (Numbers xxx. 13): If a wife make a vow it is left to her husband’s choice, either to establish it or to make it void. And (Joshua xxiv. 15): Choose you this day whom you will serve, &c. But I and my house will serve the Lord. He makes his own choice, and leaves them to the liberty of their election. And (2 Samuel xxiv. 12): I offer thee three things, choose thee which of them I shall do. If one of these three things was necessarily determined, and the other two impossible, how was it left to him to choose what should be done? Therefore we have true liberty.”

T. H. And the first place of Scripture taken from Numbers xxx. 13, is one of them that look another way. The words are, If a wife make a vow it is left to her husband’s choice, either to establish it or make it void. For it proves no more but that the husband is a free or voluntary agent, but not that his choice therein is not necessitated or not determined to what he shall choose by precedent necessary causes.

J. D. “My first argument from Scripture is thus formed.

“Whosoever have a liberty or power of election, are not determined to one by precedent necessary causes.

“But men have liberty of election.

“The assumption or minor proposition is proved by three places of Scripture, (Numbers xxx. 13; Joshua xxiv. 15; 2 Samuel xxiv. 12.) I need not insist upon these, because T. H. acknowledgeth ‘that it is clearly proved that there is election in man.’

“But he denieth the major proposition, because, saith he, ‘man is necessitated or determined to what he shall choose by precedent necessary causes.’ I take away this answer three ways.

“First, by reason. Election is evermore either of things possible, or at least of things conceived to be possible, that is, efficacious election, when a man hopeth or thinketh of obtaining the object. Whatsoever the will chooseth, it chooseth under the notion of good, either honest, or delightful, or profitable. But there can be no real goodness apprehended in that which is known to be impossible. It is true, there may be some wandering pendulous wishes of known impossibilities, as a man also that hath committed an offence may wish he had not committed it. But to choose efficaciously an impossibility, is as impossible as an impossibility itself. No man can think to obtain that which he knows impossible to be obtained; but he who knows that all things are antecedently determined by necessary causes, knows that it is impossible for anything to be otherwise than it is; therefore to ascribe unto him a power of election to choose this or that indifferently, is to make the same thing to be determined to one, and to be not determined to one, which are contradictories. Again, whosoever hath an elective power, or a liberty to choose, hath also a liberty or power to refuse; (Isaiah vii. 16): Before the child shall know to refuse the evil and choose the good. He who chooseth this rather than that, refuseth that rather than this. As Moses (Hebrews xi. 25), choosing to suffer affliction with the people of God, did thereby refuse the pleasures of sin. But no man hath any power to refuse that which is necessarily predetermined to be, unless it be as the fox refused the grapes which were beyond his reach. When one thing of two or three is absolutely determined, the others are made thereby simply impossible.

(a) “Secondly, I prove it by instances, and by that universal notion which the world hath of election. What is the difference between an elective and hereditary kingdom, but that in an elective kingdom, they have power or liberty to choose this or that man indifferently; but in an hereditary kingdom, they have no such power nor liberty? Where the law makes a certain heir, there is a necessitation to one; where the law doth not name a certain heir, there is no necessitation to one, and there they have power or liberty to choose. An hereditary prince may be as grateful and acceptable to his subjects, and as willingly received by them (according to that liberty which is opposed to compulsion or violence), as he who is chosen: yet he is not therefore an elective prince. In Germany all the nobility and commons may assent to the choice of the emperor, or be well pleased with it when it is concluded; yet none of them elect or choose the emperor, but only those six princes who have a consultative, deliberative, and determinative power in his election; and if their votes or suffrages be equally divided, three to three, then the King of Bohemia hath the casting voice. So likewise in corporations or commonwealths, sometimes the people, sometimes the common-council, have power to name so many persons for such an office, and the supreme magistrate, or senate, or lesser council respectively, to choose one of those. And all this is done with that caution and secresy, by billets or other means, that no man knows which way any man gave his vote, or with whom to be offended. If it were necessarily and inevitably predetermined, that this individual person, and no other, shall and must be chosen, what needed all this circuit and caution, to do that which is not possible to be done otherwise, which one may do as well as a thousand, and for doing of which no rational man can be offended, if the electors were necessarily predetermined to elect this man and no other. And though T. H. was pleased to pass by my University instance, yet I may not, until I see what he is able to say unto it. The junior of the mess in Cambridge divides the meat in four parts; the senior chooseth first, then the second and third in their order. The junior is determined to one, and hath no choice left, unless it be to choose whether he will take that part which the rest have refused, or none at all. It may be this part is more agreeable to his mind than any of the others would have been; but for all that he cannot be said to choose it, because he is determined to this one. Even such a liberty of election is that which is established by T. H.; or rather much worse in two respects. The junior hath yet a liberty of contradiction left, to choose whether he will take that part, or not take any part; but he who is precisely predetermined to the choice of this object, hath no liberty to refuse it. Secondly, the junior, by dividing carefully, may preserve to himself an equal share; but he who is wholly determined by extrinsical causes, is left altogether to the mercy and disposition of another.

“Thirdly, I prove it by the texts alleged. (Numb. xxx. 13): If a wife make a vow, it is left to her husband’s choice, either to establish it or make it void. But if it be predetermined that he shall establish it, it is not in his power to make it void. If it be predetermined that he shall make it void, it is not in his power to establish it. And howsoever it be determined, yet being determined, it is not in his power indifferently, either to establish it, or to make it void at his pleasure. So (Joshua xxiv. 15): Choose you this day whom ye will serve: but I and my house will serve the Lord. It is too late to choose that this day, which was determined otherwise yesterday. Whom ye will serve, whether the Gods whom your fathers served, or the Gods of the Amorites. Where there is an election of this or that, these Gods, or those Gods, there must needs be either an indifferency to both objects, or at least a possibility to either. I and my house will serve the Lord. If he were extrinsically predetermined, he should not say I will serve, but I must serve. And (2 Samuel xxiv. 12): I offer thee three things, choose thee which of them I shall do. How doth God offer three things to David’s choice, if he had predetermined him to one of the three by a concourse of necessary extrinsical causes? If a sovereign prince should descend so far as to offer a delinquent his choice, whether he would be fined, or imprisoned, or banished, and had underhand signed the sentence of his banishment, what were it else but plain drollery or mockery? This is the argument which in T. H.’s opinion looks another way. If it do, it is as the Parthians used to fight, flying. His reason follows next to be considered.”

ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. VI.

In this number he hath brought three places of Scripture to prove freewill. The first is, If a wife make a vow, it is left to her husband’s choice either to establish it or to make it void. And, Choose you this day whom ye will serve, &c. But I and my house will serve the Lord. And, I offer thee three things, choose thee which of them I shall do. Which in the reply he endeavoureth to make good; but needed not, seeing they prove nothing but that a man is free to do if he will, which I deny not. He ought to prove he is free to will, which I deny.

(a) Secondly, “I prove it by instances, and by that universal notion which the world hath of election.”

His instances are, first, the difference between an hereditary kingdom and an elective; and then the difference between the senior and junior of the mess taking their commons; both which prove the liberty of doing what they will, but not a liberty to will. For in the first case, the electors are free to name whom they will, but not to will; and in the second, the senior having an appetite, chooseth what he hath an appetite to; but chooseth not his appetite.

NO. VII.

T. H. For if there came into the husband’s mind greater good by establishing than abrogating such a vow, the establishing will follow necessarily. And if the evil that will follow thereon in the husband’s opinion outweigh the good, the contrary must needs follow. And yet in this following of one’s hopes and fears consisteth the nature of election. So that a man may both choose this, and cannot but choose this. And consequently choosing and necessity are joined together.

The Bishop’s reply.

J. D. (a) “There is nothing said with more show of reason in this cause by the patrons of necessity and adversaries of true liberty than this, that the will doth perpetually and infallibly follow the last dictate of the understanding, or the last judgment of right reason. And in this, and this only, I confess T. H. hath good seconds. Yet the common and approved opinion is contrary, and justly.

“For first, this very act of the understanding is an effect of the will, and a testimony of its power and liberty. It is the will, which affecting some particular good, doth engage and command the understanding to consult and deliberate what means are convenient for attaining that end. And though the will itself be blind, yet its object is good in general, which is the end of all human actions. Therefore it belongs to the will, as to the general of an army, to move the other powers of the soul to their acts, and among the rest the understanding also, by applying it and reducing its power into act. So as whatsoever obligation the understanding doth put upon the will, is by the consent of the will, and derived from the power of the will, which was not necessitated to move the understanding to consult. So the will is the lady and mistress of human actions; the understanding is her trusty counsellor, which gives no advice but when it is required by the will. And if the first consultation or deliberation be not sufficient, the will may move a review, and require the understanding to inform itself better and take advice of others, from whence many times the judgment of the understanding doth receive alteration.

“Secondly, for the manner how the understanding doth determine the will, it is not naturally but morally. The will is moved by the understanding, not as by an efficient having a causal influence into the effect, but only by proposing and representing the object. And therefore, as it were ridiculous to say that the object of the sight is the cause of seeing, so it is to say that the proposing of the object by the understanding to the will is the cause of willing; and therefore the understanding hath no place in that concourse of causes, which according to T. H. do necessitate the will.

“Thirdly, the judgment of the understanding is not always practice practicum, nor of such a nature in itself as to oblige and determine the will to one. Sometimes, the understanding proposeth two or three means equally available to the attaining of one and the same end. Sometimes, it dictateth that this or that particular good is eligible or fit to be chosen, but not that it is necessarily eligible or that it must be chosen. It may judge this or that to be a fit means, but not the only means to attain the desired end. In these cases no man can doubt but that the will may choose, or not choose, this or that indifferently. Yea, though the understanding shall judge one of these means to be more expedient than another, yet forasmuch as in the less expedient there is found the reason of good, the will in respect of that dominion which it hath over itself, may accept that which the understanding judgeth to be less expedient, and refuse that which it judgeth to be more expedient.

“Fourthly, sometimes the will doth not will the end so efficaciously, but that it may be, and often is deterred from the prosecution of it by the difficulty of the means; and notwithstanding the judgment of the understanding, the will may still suspend its own act.

“Fifthly, supposing, but not granting, that the will did necessarily follow the last dictate of the understanding, yet this proves no antecedent necessity, but coexistent with the act; no extrinsical necessity, the will and the understanding being but two faculties of the same soul; no absolute necessity, but merely upon supposition. And therefore the same authors who maintain that the judgment of the understanding doth necessarily determine the will, do yet much more earnestly oppugn T. H.’s absolute necessity of all occurrences. Suppose the will shall apply the understanding to deliberate and not require a review. Suppose the dictate of the understanding shall be absolute, not this or that indifferently, nor this rather than that comparatively, but this positively; nor this freely, but this necessarily. And suppose the will do will efficaciously, and do not suspend its own act. Then here is a necessity indeed, but neither absolute nor extrinsical, nor antecedent, flowing from a concourse of causes without ourselves, but a necessity upon supposition, which we do readily grant. So far T. H. is wide from the truth, whilst he maintains, either that the apprehension of a greater good doth necessitate the will, or that this is an absolute necessity.

(b) “Lastly, whereas he saith, that ‘the nature of election doth consist in following our hopes and fears,’ I cannot but observe that there is not one word of art in this whole treatise which he useth in the right sense; I hope it doth not proceed out of an affectation of singularity, nor out of a contempt of former writers, nor out of a desire to take in sunder the whole frame of learning and new mould it after his own mind. It were to be wished that at least he would give us a new dictionary, that we might understand his sense. But because this is but touched here sparingly, and upon the by, I will forbear it until I meet with it again in its proper place. And for the present it shall suffice to say, that hopes and fears are common to brute beasts, but election is a rational act, and is proper only to man, who is sanctius his animal, mentisque capacius altæ.

T. H. The second place of Scripture is Joshua xxiv. 15; the third is 2 Samuel xxiv. 12; whereby it is clearly proved, that there is election in man, but not proved that such election was not necessitated by the hopes, and fears, and considerations of good and bad to follow, which depend not on the will nor are subject to election. And therefore one answer serves all such places, if they were a thousand.

J. D. “This answer being the very same with the former, word for word, which hath already sufficiently been shaken in pieces, doth require no new reply.

ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. VII.

(a) “There is nothing said with more show of reason in this cause by the patrons of necessity than this, ‘that the will doth perpetually and infallibly follow the last dictate of the understanding, or the last judgment of right reason,’ &c. Yet the common and approved opinion is contrary, and justly; for, first, this very act of the understanding is an effect of the will, &c.”

I note here, first, that the Bishop is mistaken in saying that I or any other patron of necessity, are of opinion that the will follows always the last judgment of right reason. For it followeth as well the judgment of an erroneous as of a true reasoning; and the truth in general is that it followeth the last opinion of the goodness or evilness of the object, be the opinion true or false.

Secondly, I note, that in making the understanding to be an effect of the will, he thinketh a man may have a will to that which he not so much as thinks on. And in saying, that “it is the will which, affecting some particular good, doth engage and command the understanding to consult,” &c, that he not only thinketh the will affecteth a particular good, before the man understands it to be good; but also he thinketh that these words “doth command the understanding,” and these, “for it belongs to the will as to the general of an army, to move the other powers of the soul to their acts,” and a great many more that follow, are sense, which they are not, but mere confusion and emptiness: as, for example, “the understanding doth determine the will, not naturally, but morally,” and “the will is moved by the understanding,” is unintelligible. “Moved not as by an efficient,” is nonsense. And where he saith, that “it is ridiculous to say the object of the sight is the cause of seeing,” he showeth so clearly that he understandeth nothing at all of natural philosophy, that I am sorry I had the ill fortune to be engaged with him in a dispute of this kind. There is nothing that the simplest countryman could say so absurdly concerning the understanding, as this of the Bishop, “the judgment of the understanding is not always practice practicum.” A countryman will acknowledge there is judgment in men, but will as soon say the judgment of the judgment, as the judgment of the understanding. And if practice practicum had been sense, he might have made a shift to put it into English. Much more followeth of this stuff.

(b) “Lastly, whereas he saith, ‘that the nature of election doth consist in following our hopes and fears,’ I cannot but observe that there is not one word of art in this whole treatise which he useth in the right sense. I hope it doth not proceed out of an affectation of singularity, nor out of a contempt of former writers,” &c.

He might have said, there is not a word of jargon nor nonsense; and that it proceedeth from an affectation of truth, and contempt of metaphysical writers, and a desire to reduce into frame the learning which they have confounded and disordered.

NO. VIII.

T. H. Supposing, it seems, I might answer as I have done, that necessity and election might stand together, and instance in the actions of children, fools, and brute beasts, whose fancies, I might say, are necessitated and determined to one: before these his proofs out of Scripture, he desires to prevent that instance, and therefore says, that the actions of children, fools, madmen, and beasts, are indeed determined, but that they proceed not from election, nor from free, but from spontaneous agents. As for example, that the bee, when it maketh honey, does it spontaneously; and when the spider makes his web, he does it spontaneously, and not by election. Though I never meant to ground any answer upon the experience of what children, fools, madmen, and beasts do, yet that your Lordship may understand what can be meant by spontaneous, and how it differs from voluntary, I will answer that distinction, and show that it fighteth against its fellow arguments. Your Lordship therefore is to consider, that all voluntary actions, where the thing that induceth the will is not fear, are called also spontaneous, and said to be done by a man’s own accord. As when a man giveth money voluntarily to another for merchandise, or out of affection, he is said to do it of his own accord, which in Latin is sponte, and therefore the action is spontaneous; though to give one’s money willingly to a thief to avoid killing, or throw it into the sea to avoid drowning, where the motive is fear, be not called spontaneous. But every spontaneous action is not therefore voluntary; for voluntary presupposes some precedent deliberation, that is to say, some consideration and meditation of what is likely to follow, both upon the doing and abstaining from the action deliberated of; whereas many actions are done of our own accord, and are therefore spontaneous; of which nevertheless, as he thinks, we never consulted nor deliberated in ourselves, as when making no question nor any the least doubt in the world but that the thing we are about is good, we eat, or walk, or in anger strike or revile, which he thinks spontaneous, but not voluntary nor elective actions. And with such kind of actions he says necessitation may stand, but not with such as are voluntary, and proceed upon election and deliberation. Now if I make it appear to you that even these actions which he says proceed from spontaneity, and which he ascribes only to fools, children, madmen, and beasts, proceed from deliberation and election, and that actions inconsiderate, rash and spontaneous, are ordinarily found in those that are, by themselves and many more, thought as wise or wiser than ordinary men are; then his argument concludeth, that necessity and election may stand together, which is contrary to that which he intendeth by all the rest of his arguments to prove. And first, your Lordship’s own experience furnishes you with proof enough, that horses, dogs, and other brute beasts, do demur oftentimes upon the way they are to take: the horse, retiring from some strange figure he sees, and coming on again to avoid the spur. And what else doth man that deliberateth, but one while proceed toward action, another while retire from it, as the hope of greater good draws him, or the fear of greater evil drives him? A child may be so young as to do all which it does without all deliberation, but that is but till it chance to be hurt by doing somewhat, or till it be of age to understand the rod; for the actions wherein he hath once a check, shall be deliberated on a second time. Fools and madmen manifestly deliberate no less than the wisest men, though they make not so good a choice, the images of things being by diseases altered. For bees and spiders, if he had so little to do as to be a spectator of their actions, he would have confessed not only election, but also art, prudence, and policy in them, very near equal to that of mankind. Of bees Aristotle says, their life is civil. He is deceived, if he think any spontaneous action, after once being checked in it, differs from an action voluntary and elective, for even the setting of a man’s foot in the posture of walking, and the action of ordinary eating, was once deliberated, how and when it should be done; and though it afterwards became easy and habitual, so as to be done without fore-thought, yet that does not hinder but that the act is voluntary and proceeds from election. So also are the rashest actions of choleric persons voluntary and upon deliberation. For who is there, but very young children, that has not considered when and how far he ought, or safely may, strike or revile. Seeing then he agrees with me that such actions are necessitated, and the fancy of those that do them is determined to the actions they do, it follows out of his own doctrine, that the liberty of election does not take away the necessity of electing this or that individual thing. And thus one of his arguments fights against another.

J. D. “We have partly seen before how T. H. hath coined a new kind of liberty, a new kind of necessity, a new kind of election; and now in this section a new kind of spontaneity, and a new kind of voluntary actions. Although he say that here is nothing new to him, yet I begin to suspect that either here are many things new to him, or otherwise his election is not the result of a serious mature deliberation. (a) The first thing that I offer, is, how often he mistakes my meaning in this one section. First, I make voluntary and spontaneous actions to be one and the same; he saith, I distinguish them, so as spontaneous actions may be necessary, but voluntary actions cannot. Secondly, (b) I distinguish between free acts and voluntary acts. The former are always deliberate, the latter may be indeliberate; all free acts are voluntary, but all voluntary acts are not free. But he saith I confound them and make them the same. (c) Thirdly, he saith, I ascribe spontaneity only to fools, children, madmen, and beasts; but I acknowledge spontaneity hath place in rational men, both as it is comprehended in liberty, and as it is distinguished from liberty.

(d) “Yet I have no reason to be offended at it; for he deals no otherwise with me than he doth with himself. Here he tells us that ‘voluntary presupposeth deliberation.’ But (No. XXV.) he tells us contrary, ‘that whatsoever followeth the last appetite is voluntary, and where there is but one appetite, that is the last:’ and that ‘no action of a man can be said to be without deliberation, though never so sudden.’ So (No. XXXIII.) he tells us, that ‘by spontaneity is meant inconsiderate proceeding, or else nothing is meant by it:’ yet here he tells us, that ‘all voluntary actions which proceed not from fear, are spontaneous,’ whereof many are deliberate, as that wherein he instanceth himself, ‘to give money for merchandise.’ Thirdly, when I said that children, before they have the use of reason, act spontaneously, as when they suck the breast, but do not act freely, because they have not judgment to deliberate or elect, here T. H. undertakes to prove that they do deliberate and elect; and yet presently after confesseth again, that ‘a child may be so young, as to do what it doth without all deliberation.’

“Besides these mistakes and contradictions, he hath other errors also in this section. As this, that no actions proceeding from fear are spontaneous. He who throws his goods into the sea to avoid drowning, doth it not only spontaneously, but even freely. He that wills the end, wills the means conducing to that end. It is true that if the action be considered nakedly without all circumstances, no man willingly or spontaneously casts his goods into the sea. But if we take the action, as in this particular case, invested with all the circumstances, and in order to the end, that is, the saving of his own life, it is not only voluntary and spontaneous, but elective and chosen by him, as the most probable means for his own preservation. As there is an antecedent and a subsequent will, so there is an antecedent and a subsequent spontaneity. His grammatical argument, grounded upon the derivation of spontaneous from sponte, weighs nothing; we have learned in the rudiments of logic, that conjugates are sometimes in name only, and not in deed. He who casts his goods into the sea, may do it of his own accord in order to the end. Secondly, he errs in this also, that nothing is opposed to spontaneity but only fear. Invincible and antecedent ignorance doth destroy the nature of spontaneity or voluntariness, by removing that knowledge which should and would have prohibited the action. As a man thinking to shoot a wild beast in a bush, shoots his friend, which if he had known, he would not have shot. This man did not kill his friend of his own accord.

“For the clearer understanding of these things, and to know what spontaneity is, let us consult awhile with the Schools about the distinct order of voluntary or involuntary actions. Some acts proceed wholly from an extrinsical cause; as the throwing of a stone upwards, a rape, or the drawing of a Christian by plain force to the idol’s temple; these are called violent acts. Secondly, some proceed from an intrinsical cause, but without any manner of knowledge of the end, as the falling of a stone downwards; these are called natural acts. Thirdly, some proceed from an internal principle, with an imperfect knowledge of the end, where there is an appetite to the object, but no deliberation nor election; as the acts of fools, children, beasts, and the inconsiderate acts of men of judgment. These are called voluntary or spontaneous acts. Fourthly, some proceed from an intrinsical cause, with a more perfect knowledge of the end, which are elected upon deliberation. These are called free acts. So then the formal reason of liberty is election. The necessary requisite to election is deliberation. Deliberation implyeth the actual use of reason. But deliberation and election cannot possibly subsist with an extrinsical predetermination to one. How should a man deliberate or choose which way to go, who knows that all ways are shut against him and made impossible to him, but only one? This is the genuine sense of these words voluntary and spontaneous in this question. Though they were taken twenty other ways vulgarly or metaphorically, as we say spontaneous ulcers, where there is no appetite at all, yet it were nothing to this controversy, which is not about words, but about things; not what the words voluntary or free do or may signify, but whether all things be extrinsically predetermined to one.

“These grounds being laid for clearing the true sense of the words, the next thing to be examined is, that contradiction which he hath espied in my discourse, or how this argument fights against his fellows. ‘If I,’ saith T. H., ‘make it appear, that the spontaneous actions of fools, children, madmen, and beasts, do proceed from election and deliberation, and that inconsiderate and indeliberate actions are found in the wisest men, then this argument concludes that necessity and election may stand together, which is contrary to his assertion.’ If this could be made appear as easily as it is spoken, it would concern himself much, who, when he should prove that rational men are not free from necessity, goes about to prove that brute beasts do deliberate and elect, that is as much as to say, are free from necessity. But it concerns not me at all; it is neither my assertion nor my opinion, that necessity and election may not meet together in the same subject; violent, natural, spontaneous, and deliberate or elective acts may all meet together in the same subject. But this I say, that necessity and election cannot consist together in the same act. He who is determined to one, is not free to choose out of more than one. To begin with his latter supposition, ‘that‘that wise men may do inconsiderate and indeliberate actions,’actions,’ I do readily admit it. But where did he learn to infer a general conclusion from particular premises; as thus, because wise men do some indeliberate acts, therefore no act they do is free or elective? Secondly, for his former supposition, ‘that‘that fools, children, madmen, and beasts, do deliberate and elect,’elect,’ if he could make it good, it is not I who contradict myself, nor fight against mine own assertion, but it is he who endeavours to prove that which I altogether deny. He may well find a contradiction between him and me; otherwise to what end is this dispute? But he shall not be able to find a difference between me and myself. But the truth is, he is not able to prove any such thing; and that brings me to my sixth consideration, that neither horses, nor bees, nor spiders, nor children, nor fools, nor madmen do deliberate or elect.

“His first instance is in the horse, or dog, but more especially the horse. He told me that I divided my argument into squadrons, to apply myself to your Lordship, being a military man; and I apprehend that for the same reason he gives his first instance of the horse, with a submission to your own experience. So far well, but otherwise very disadvantageously to his cause. Men used to say of a dull fellow, that he hath no more brains than a horse. And the Prophet David saith, (Psalm xxxii. 9): Be not like the horse and mule, which have no understanding. How do they deliberate without understanding? And (Psalm xlix. 20), he saith the same of all brute beasts: Man being in honour had no understanding, but became like unto the beasts that perish. The horse ‘demurs upon his way.’ Why not? Outward objects, or inward fancies, may produce a stay in his course, though he have no judgment either to deliberate or elect. ‘He retires from some strange figure which he sees, and comes on again to avoid the spur.’ So he may; and yet be far enough from deliberation. All this proceeds from the sensitive passion of fear, which is a perturbation arising from the expectation of some imminent evil. But he urgeth, ‘what else doth a man that deliberateth?’ Yes, very much. The horse feareth some outward object, but deliberation is a comparing of several means conducing to the same end. Fear is commonly of one, deliberation of more than one; fear is of those things which are not in our power, deliberation of those things which are in our power; fear ariseth many times out of natural antipathies, but in these disconveniences of nature deliberation hath no place at all. In a word, fear is an enemy to deliberation, and betrayeth the succours of the soul. If the horse did deliberate, he should consult with reason, whether it were more expedient for him to go that way or not; he would represent to himself all the dangers both of going and staying, and compare the one with the other, and elect that which is less evil; he should consider whether it were not better to endure a little hazard, than ungratefully and dishonestly to fail in his duty towards his master, who did breed him and doth feed him. This the horse doth not; neither is it possible for him to do it. Secondly, for children, T. H. confesseth that they may be so young that they do not deliberate at all; afterwards, as they attain to the use of reason by degrees, so by degrees they become free agents. Then they do deliberate; before they do not deliberate. The rod may be a means to make them use their reason, when they have power to exercise it, but the rod cannot produce the power before they have it. Thirdly, for fools and madmen, it is not to be understood of such madmen as have their lucida intervalla, who are mad and discreet by fits; when they have the use of reason, they are no madmen, but may deliberate as well as others; nor yet of such fools as are only comparative fools, that is, less wise than others. Such may deliberate, though not so clearly, nor so judiciously as others; but of mere madmen, and mere natural fools, to say that they, who have not the use of reason, do deliberate or use reason, implies a contradiction. But his chiefest confidence is in his bees and spiders, ‘of whose actions,’ he saith, ‘if I had been a spectator, I would have confessed, not only election, but also art, prudence, policy, very near equal to that of mankind, whose life, as Aristotle saith, is civil.’ Truly I have contemplated their actions many times, and have been much taken with their curious works; yet my thoughts did not reflect so much upon them, as upon their Maker, who is sic magnus in magnis, that he is not minor in parvis; so great in great things, that he is not less in small things. Yes, I have seen those silliest of creatures, and seeing their rare works I have seen enough to confute all the bold-faced atheists of this age, and their hellish blasphemies. I saw them, but I praised the marvellous works of God, and admired that great and first intellect, who hath both adapted their organs, and determined their fancies to these particular works. I was not so simple as to ascribe those rarities to their own invention, which I knew to proceed from a mere instinct of nature. In all other things they are the dullest of creatures. Naturalists write of bees, that their fancy is imperfect, not distinct from their common-sense, spread over their whole body, and only perceiving things present. When Aristotle calls them political or sociable creatures, he did not intend it really that they lived a civil life, but according to an analogy, because they do such things by instinct as truly political creatures do out of judgment. Nor when I read in St. Ambrose of their hexagons or sexangular cells, did I therefore conclude that they were mathematicians. Nor when I read in Crespet, that they invoke God to their aid when they go out of their hives, bending their thighs in form of a cross, and bowing themselves; did I therefore think that this was an act of religious piety, or that they were capable of theological virtues, whom I see in all other things in which their fancies are not determined, to be the silliest of creatures, strangers not only to right reason, but to all resemblances of it.

“Seventhly, concerning those actions which are done upon precedent and passed deliberations; they are not only spontaneous, but free acts. Habits contracted by use and experience, do help the will to act with more facility and more determinately, as the hand of the artificer is helped by his tools. And precedent deliberations, if they were sad and serious, and proved by experience to be profitable, do save the labour of subsequent consultations; frustra fit per plura, quod fieri potest per pauciora. Yet nevertheless the actions which are done by virtue of these formerly acquired habits, are no less free, than if the deliberation were coexistent with this particular action. He that hath gained an habit and skill to play such a lesson, needs not a new deliberation how to play every time that he plays it over and over. Yet I am far from giving credit to him in this, that walking or eating universally considered, are free actions, or proceed from true liberty; not so much because they want a particular deliberation before every individual act, as because they are animal motions and need no deliberation of reason, as we see in brute beasts. And nevertheless the same actions, as they are considered individually, and invested with their due circumstances, may be and often are free actions subjected to the liberty of the agent.

“Lastly, whereas T. H. compareth the first motions or rash attempts of choleric persons with such acquired habits, it is a great mistake. Those rash attempts are voluntary actions, and may be facilitated sometimes by acquired habits. But yet for as much as actions are often altered and varied by the circumstances of time, place, and person, so as that act which at one time is morally good, at another time may be morally evil; and for as much as a general precedent deliberation how to do this kind of action, is not sufficient to make this or that particular action good or expedient, which being in itself good, yet particular circumstances may render inconvenient or unprofitable to some persons, at some times, in some places: therefore a precedent general deliberation how to do any act, as for instance, how to write, is not sufficient to make a particular act, as my writing this individual reply, to be freely done, without a particular and subsequent deliberation. A man learns French advisedly; that is a free act. The same man in his choler and passion reviles his friend in French, without any deliberation; this is a spontaneous act, but it is not a free act. If he had taken time to advise, he would not have reviled his friend. Yet as it is not free, so neither is it so necessary as the bees making honey, whose fancy is not only inclined, but determined, by nature to that act. So every way he fails. And his conclusion, that the liberty of election doth not take away the necessity of electing this or that individual thing, is no consequent from my doctrine, but from his own. Neither do my arguments fight one against another, but his private opinions fight both against me and against an undoubted truth. A free agent endowed with liberty of election, or with an elective power, may nevertheless be necessitated in some individual acts, but those acts wherein he is necessitated, do not flow from his elective power, neither are those acts which flow from his elective power necessitated.”