J. D. (a) “This short section might pass without an animadversion, but for two things. The one is, that he confounds a voluntary act with a free act. A free act is only that which proceeds from the free election of the rational will after deliberation; but every act that proceeds from the sensitive appetite of man or beast, without deliberation or election, is truly voluntary. (b) The other thing observable is his conclusion, that ‘it is all one to say a man is free, and to say he hath not made an end of deliberating’; which confession of his overturns his whole structure of absolute necessity. For if every agent be necessitated to act what he doth act by a necessary and natural flux of extrinsical causes, then he is no more free before he deliberates, or whilst he deliberates, than he is after; but by T. H.’s confession here, he is more free whilst he deliberates, than he is after. And so after all his flourishes, for an absolute or extrinsical necessity, he is glad to set himself down, and rest contented with an hypothetical necessity, which no man ever denied or doubted of; ascribing the necessitation of a man in free acts to his own deliberation, and in indeliberate acts to his last thought, No. XXV. What is this to a natural and special influence of extrinsical causes? (c) “Again, ‘liberty’, saith he, ‘is an absence of extrinsical impediments’; but deliberation doth produce no new extrinsical impediment; therefore let him choose which part he will, either he is free after deliberation, by his own doctrine, or he was not free before. Our own deliberation, and the direction of our own understanding, and the election of our own will, do produce an hypothetical necessity, that the event be such as the understanding hath directed, and the will elected. But for as much as the understanding might have directed otherwise, and the will have elected otherwise, this is far from an absolute necessity. Neither doth liberty respect only future acts, but present acts also. Otherwise God did not freely create the world. In the same instant wherein the will elects, it is free, according to a priority of nature, though not of time, to elect otherwise. And so in a divided sense, the will is free, even whilst it acts; though in a compounded sense it be not free. Certainly, deliberation doth constitute, not destroy liberty.

(a) “This short section might pass, but for two things; one is, that he confounds a voluntary act with a free act.” I do indeed take all voluntary acts to be free, and all free acts to be voluntary; but withal that all acts, whether free or voluntary, if they be acts, were necessary before they were acts. But where is the error? ‘A free act’, saith he, ‘is only that which proceeds from the free election of the rational will, after deliberation; but every act that proceeds from the sensitive appetite of man or beast, without deliberation or election, is truly voluntary.’ So that my error lies in this, that I distinguish not between a rational will and a sensitive appetite in the same man. As if the appetite and will in man or beast were not the same thing, or that sensual men and beasts did not deliberate, and choose one thing before another, in the same manner that wise men do. Nor can it be said of wills, that one is rational, the other sensitive; but of men. And if it be granted that deliberation is always (as it is not) rational, there were no cause to call men rational more than beasts. For it is manifest by continual experience, that beasts do deliberate.

(b) “The other thing observable is his conclusion, that ‘it is all one to say, a man is free, and to say, he hath not made an end of deliberating’: which confession of his overturns his whole structure of absolute necessity.” Why so? ‘Because’, saith he, ‘if every agent be necessitated to act what he doth act by extrinsical causes, then he is no more free before he deliberates, or whilst he deliberates, than he is after’. But this is a false consequence; he should have inferred thus:--“then he is no less necessitated before he deliberates than he is after”; which is true, and yet nevertheless he is more free. But taking necessity to be inconsistent with liberty, which is the question between us: instead of necessitated he puts in not free. And therefore to say ‘a man is free till he hath made an end of deliberating’, is no contradiction to absolute and antecedent necessity. And whereas he adds presently after, that I ascribe the necessitation of a man in free acts to his own deliberation, and in indeliberate acts to his last thoughts: he mistakes the matter. For I ascribe all necessity to the universal series or order of causes, depending on the first cause eternal: which the Bishop understandeth, as if I had said in his phrase, to a special influence of extrinsical causes; that is, understandeth it not at all.

(c) “Again, ‘liberty,’ saith he, ‘is an absence of extrinsical impediments’: but deliberation doth produce no new extrinsical impediment; therefore either he is free after deliberation, or he was not free before.” I cannot perceive in these words any more force of inference, than of so many other words whatsoever put together at adventure. But be his meaning what he will, I say not that deliberation produceth any impediments: for there are no impediments but to the action, whilst we are endeavouring to do it, which is not till we have done deliberating. But during the deliberation there arise thoughts in him that deliberateth, concerning the consequence of the action whereof he deliberateth, which cause the action following; which are not impediments to that action which was not done, but the causes of that which was done. That which followeth in this Number is not intelligible, by reason of the insignificance of these words, “understanding directeth; will electeth; hypothetical necessity”; which are but jargon, and his “divided sense” and “compounded sense”, nonsense. And this also, “liberty respecteth not future acts only, but present acts also”, is unintelligible. For how can a man have liberty to do or not to do that which is at the same instant already done. For where he addeth, “otherwise God did not freely create the world”, it proves nothing; because he had the liberty to create it, before it was created. Besides, it is a profaning of the name of God, to make instances of his incomprehensible working in a question as this is, merely natural.

NO. XXIX.

T. H. Fifthly, I conceive liberty to be rightly defined in this manner:--Liberty is the absence of all the impediments to action, that are not contained in the nature, and in the intrinsical quality of the agent. As for example, the water is said to descend freely, or to have liberty to descend by the channel of the river, because there is no impediment that way; but not across, because the banks are impediments. And though water cannot ascend, yet men never say it wants the liberty to ascend, but the faculty or power; because the impediment is in the nature of the water and intrinsical. So also we say, he that is tied wants the liberty to go, because the impediment is not in him, but in his bonds; whereas we say not so of him that is sick or lame, because the impediment is in himself.

J. D. (a) “How that should be a right definition of liberty, which comprehends neither the genus nor the difference, neither the matter nor form of liberty, which doth not so much as accidentally describe liberty by its marks and tokens; how a real faculty or the elective power should be defined by a negation, or by an absence, is past my understanding, and contrary to all the rules of right reason which I have learned. Negatives cannot explicate the nature of things defined. By this definition, a stone hath liberty to ascend into the air, because there is no outward impediment to hinder it; and so a violent act may be a free act. Just like his definition are his instances of the liberty of the water to descend down the channel, and a sick or lame man’s liberty to go. The latter is an impotence, and not a power or a liberty. The former is so far from being a free act, that it is scarce a natural act. Certainly the proper natural motion of water, as of all heavy bodies, is to descend directly downwards towards the centre; as we see in rain, which falls down perpendicularly. Though this be far from a free act, which proceeds from a rational appetite; yet it is a natural act, and proceeds from a natural appetite, and hath its reason within itself. So hath not the current of the river in its channel, which must not be ascribed to the proper nature of the water, but either to the general order of the universe, for the better being and preservation of the creatures: (otherwise the waters should not move in seas and rivers as they do, but cover the face of the earth, and possess their proper place between the air and the earth, according to the degree of their gravity): or to an extrinsical principle, whilst one particle of water thrusteth and forceth forward another, and so comes a current, or at least so comes the current to be more impetuous; to which motion the position of the earth doth contribute much, both by restraining that fluid body with its banks from dispersing itself, and also by affording way for a fair and easy descent by its proclivity. He tells us sadly, that “the water wants liberty to go over the banks, because there is an extrinsical impediment; but to ascend up the channel, it wants not liberty, but power”. Why? Liberty is a power; if it want power to ascend, it wants liberty to ascend. But he makes the reason why the water ascends not up the channel, to be intrinsical, and the reason why it ascends not over the banks, to be extrinsical; as if there were not a rising of the ground up the channel, as well as up the banks, though it be not so discernible, nor always so sudden. The natural appetite of the water is as much against the ascending over the banks, as the ascending up the channel. And the extrinsical impediment is as great, ascending up the channel, as over the banks; or rather greater, because there it must move, not only against the rising soil, but also against the succeeding waters, which press forward the former. Either the river wants liberty for both, or else it wants liberty for neither.

But to leave his metaphorical faculties, and his catachrestical liberty: how far is his discourse wide from the true moral liberty; which is the question between us? His former description of a free agent, that is, ‘he who hath not made an end of deliberating’, though it was wide from the mark, yet it came much nearer the truth than this definition of liberty; unless perhaps he think that the water hath done deliberating whether it will go over the banks, but hath not done deliberating whether it will go up the channel”.

(a) “How that should be a right definition of liberty, which comprehends neither the genus nor the difference, neither the matter nor the form of liberty, &c: how a real faculty or the elective power, should be defined by a negation or by an absence: is past my understanding, and contrary to all the rules of right reason which I have learned.” A right definition is that which determineth the signification of the word defined, to the end that in the discourse where it is used, the meaning of it may be constant and without equivocation. This is the measure of a definition, and intelligible to an English reader. But the Bishop, that measures it by the genus and the difference, thinks, it seems, though he write English, he writes not to an English reader unless he also be a Schoolman. I confess the rule is good, that we ought to define, when it can be done, by using first some more general term, and then by restraining the signification of that general term, till it be the same with that of the word defined. And this general term the School calls genus, and the restraint difference. This, I say, is a good rule where it can be done; for some words are so general, that they cannot admit a more general in their definition. But why this ought to be a law of definition, I doubt it would trouble him to find the reason; and therefore I refer him (he shall give me leave sometimes to cite, as well as he,) to the fourteenth and fifteenth articles of the sixth chapter of my book De Corpore. But it is to little purpose that he requires in a definition so exactly the genus and the difference, seeing he does not know them when they are there. For in this my definition of liberty, the genus is absence of impediments to action; and the difference or restriction is that they be not contained in the nature of the agent. The Bishop therefore, though he talk of genus and difference, understands not what they are, but requires the matter and form of the thing in the definition. Matter is body, that is to say, corporeal substance, and subject to dimension, such as are the elements, and the things compounded of the elements. But it is impossible that matter should be part of a definition, whose parts are only words; or to put the name of matter into the definition of liberty, which is immaterial. “How a real faculty can be defined by an absence, is”, saith he, “past my understanding.” Unless he mean by real faculty a very faculty, I know not how a faculty is real. If he mean so, then a very absence is as real as a very faculty. And if the word defined signify an absence or negation, I hope he would not have me define it by a presence or affirmation. Such a word is liberty; for it signifieth freedom from impediments, which is all one with the absence of impediments, as I have defined it. And if this be contrary to all the rules of right reason, that is to say, of logic, that he hath learned, I should advise him to read some other logic than he hath yet read, or consider better those he did read when he was a young man and could less understand them. He adds, that “by this definition, a stone hath liberty to ascend into the air, because there is no outward impediment to hinder it”. How knows he whether there be impediments to hinder it or not? Certainly if a stone were thrown upwards, it would either go upwards eternally, or it must be stopped by some outward impediment, or it must stop itself. He hath confessed, that nothing can move itself; I doubt not therefore that he will confess also, that it cannot stop itself. But stopped we see it is; it is therefore stopped by impediments external. He hath in this part of his answer ventured a little too far in speaking of definition, and of impediments, and motion; and bewrayed too much his ignorance in logic and philosophy; and talked so absurdly of the current of rivers, and of the motion of the seas, and of the weight of water, that it cannot be corrected otherwise than by blotting it all out.

NO. XXX.

T. H. Sixthly, I conceive nothing taketh beginning from itself, but from the action of some other immediate agent without itself: and that therefore when first a man had an appetite or will to something, to which immediately before he had no appetite nor will, the cause of his will is not the will itself, but something else not in his own disposing. So that, whereas it is out of controversy that of voluntary actions the will is a necessary cause; and by this which is said, the will is also caused by other things whereof it disposeth not; it followeth that voluntary actions have all of them necessary causes, and therefore are necessitated.

J. D. “This sixth point doth not consist in explicating of terms, as the former; but in two proofs, that voluntary actions are necessitated. The former proof stands thus: ‘Nothing takes beginning from itself, but from some agent without itself, which is not in its own disposing therefore, &c’. Concedo omnia; (a) I grant all he saith. The will doth not take beginning from itself. Whether he understand by will the faculty of the will, which is a power of the reasonable soul, it takes not beginning from itself, but from God, who created and infused the soul into man, and endowed it with this power: or whether he understand by will the act of willing, it takes not beginning from itself, but from the faculty or from the power of willing, which is in the soul. This is certain; finite and participated things cannot be from themselves, nor be produced by themselves. What would he conclude from hence? That therefore the act of willing takes not its beginning from the faculty of the will? Or that the faculty is always determined antecedently, extrinsically, to will that which it doth will? He may as soon draw water out of a pumice, as draw any such conclusion out of these premises. Secondly, for his “taking a beginning”, either he understands a beginning of being, or a beginning of working and acting. If he understand a beginning of being, he saith most truly, that nothing hath a beginning of being in time from itself. But this is nothing to his purpose: the question is not between us, whether the soul of man or the will of man be eternal. But if he understand a beginning of working or moving actually, it is a gross error. All men know that when a stone descends, or fire ascends, or when water, that hath been heated, returns to its former temper; the beginning or reason is intrinsical, and one and the same thing doth move and is moved in a diverse respect. It moves in respect of the form, and it is moved in respect of the matter. Much more man, who hath a perfect knowledge and prenotion of the end, is most properly said to move himself. Yet I do not deny but that there are other beginnings of human actions, which do concur with the will: some outward, as the first cause by general influence, which is evermore requisite, angels or men by persuading, evil spirits by tempting, the object or end by its appetibility, the understanding by directing. So passions and acquired habits. But I deny that any of these do necessitate or can necessitate the will of man by determining it physically to one, except God alone, who doth it rarely, in extraordinary cases. And where there is no antecedent determination to one, there is no absolute necessity, but true liberty.

(b) “His second argument is ex concessis: ‘It is out of controversy’, saith he, ‘that of voluntary actions the will is a necessary cause’. The argument may be thus reduced: necessary causes produce necessary effects; but the will is a necessary cause of voluntary actions. I might deny his major. Necessary causes do not always produce necessary effects, except they be also necessarily produced; as I have shewed before in the burning of Protagoras’s book. But I answer clearly to the minor, that the will is not a necessary cause of what it wills in particular actions. It is without controversy indeed, for it is without all probability. That it wills when it wills, is necessary; but that it wills this or that, now or then, is free. More expressly, the act of the will may be considered three ways; either in respect of its nature, or in respect of its exercise, or in respect of its object. First, for the nature of the act: that which the will wills, is necessarily voluntary, because the will cannot be compelled. And in this sense, ‘it is out of controversy, that the will is a necessary cause of voluntary actions’. Secondly, for the exercise of its acts, that is not necessary: the will may either will or suspend its act. Thirdly, for the object, that is not necessary, but free: the will is not extrinsically determined to its objects. As for example: the cardinals meet in the conclave to choose a Pope; whom they choose, he is necessarily Pope. But it is not necessary that they shall choose this or that day. Before they were assembled, they might defer their assembling; when they are assembled, they may suspend their election for a day or a week. Lastly, for the person whom they will choose, it is freely in their own power; otherwise if the election were not free, it were void, and no election at all. So that which takes its beginning from the will, is necessarily voluntary; but it is not necessary that the will shall will this or that in particular, as it was necessary that the person freely elected should be Pope: but it was not necessary either that the election should be at this time, or that this man should be elected. And therefore voluntary acts in particular have not necessary causes, that is, they are not necessitated.”

I had said, that nothing taketh beginning from itself, and that the cause of the will is not the will itself, but something else which it disposeth not of. Answering to this, he endeavours to shew us the cause of the will.

(a) “I grant”, saith he, “that the will doth not take beginning from itself, for that the faculty of the will takes beginning from God, who created the soul, and poured it into man, and endowed it with this power; and for that the act of willing takes not beginning from itself, but from the faculty or from the power of willing, which is in the soul. This is certain; finite and participated things cannot be from themselves, nor be produced by themselves. What would he conclude from hence? That therefore the act of willing takes not its beginning from the faculty of the will?” It is well that he grants finite things (as for his participated, it signifies nothing here) cannot be produced by themselves. For out of this I can conclude that the act of willing is not produced by the faculty of willing. He that hath the faculty of willing, hath the faculty of willing something in particular. And at the same time he hath the faculty of nilling the same. If therefore the faculty of willing be the cause he willeth anything whatsoever, for the same reason the faculty of nilling will be the cause at the same time of nilling it: and so he shall will and nill the same thing at the same time, which is absurd. It seems the Bishop had forgot, that matter and power are indifferent to contrary forms and contrary acts. It is somewhat besides the matter, that determineth it to a certain form; and somewhat besides the power, that produceth a certain act: and thence it is, that is inferred this that he granteth, that nothing can be produced by itself; which nevertheless he presently contradicteth, in saying, that “all men know when a stone descends, the beginning is intrinsical”, and that “the stone moves in respect of the form”. Which is as much as to say, that the form moveth the matter, or that the stone moveth itself; which before he denied. When a stone ascends, the beginning of the stone’s motion was in itself, that is to say, intrinsical, because it is not the stone’s motion, till the stone begins to be moved; but the motion that caused it to begin to ascend, was a precedent and extrinsical motion of the hand or other engine that threw it upward. And so when it descends, the beginning of the stone’s motion is in the stone; but nevertheless, there is a former motion in the ambient body, air or water, that causeth it to descend. But because no man can see it, most men think there is none; though reason, wherewith the Bishop (as relying only upon the authority of books) troubleth not himself, convince that there is.

(b) “His second argument is, ex concessis: ‘It is out of controversy, that of voluntary actions the will is a necessary cause’. The argument may be thus reduced: necessary causes produce necessary effects; but the will is a necessary cause of voluntary actions. I might deny his major; necessary causes do not always produce necessary effects, except they be also necessarily produced.” He has reduced the argument to nonsense, by saying necessary causes produce not necessary effects. For necessary effects, unless he mean such effects as shall necessarily be produced, is insignificant. Let him consider therefore with what grace he can say, necessary causes do not always produce their effects, except those effects be also necessarily produced. But his answer is chiefly to the minor, and denies that the will is not a necessary cause of what it wills in particular actions. That it wills when it wills, saith he, is necessary; but that it wills this or that, is free. Is it possible for any man to conceive, that he that willeth, can will anything but this or that particular thing? It is therefore manifest, that either the will is a necessary cause of this or that or any other particular action, or not the necessary cause of any voluntary action at all. For universal actions there be none. In that which followeth, he undertaketh to make his doctrine more expressly understood by considering the act of the will three ways: “in respect of its nature, in respect of its exercise, and in respect of its object”. For the nature of the act, he saith, that “that which the will wills, is necessarily voluntary”, and that in this sense he grants it is out of controversy, that the will is a necessary cause of voluntary actions. Instead of “that which the will wills”, to make it sense, read that which the man wills; and then if the man’s will be, as he confesseth, a necessary cause of voluntary actions, it is no less a necessary cause that they are actions, than that they are voluntary. For the exercise of the act, he saith that “the will may either will, or suspend its act”. This is the old canting, which hath already been sufficiently detected. But to make it somewhat, let us read it thus: the man that willeth, may either will or suspend his will: and thus it is intelligible, but false; for how can he that willeth, at the same time suspend his will? And for the object he says, that “it is not necessary but free”, &c. His reason is, because, he says, it was not necessary, for example, in choosing a Pope, to choose him this or that day, or to choose this or that man. I would be glad to know, by what argument he can prove the election not to have been necessitated: for it is not enough for him to say, I perceive no necessity in it; nor to say, they might have chosen another, because he knows not whether they might or not; nor to say if he had not been freely elected, the election had been void or none. For though that be true, it does not follow that the election was not necessary; for there is no repugnance to necessity, either in election or in freedom. And whereas he concludeth, “therefore voluntary acts in particular, are not necessitated”; I would have been glad he had set down what voluntary acts there are, not particular, which by his restricting of voluntary acts he grants to be necessitated.

T. H. Seventhly, I hold that to be a sufficient cause, to which nothing is wanting that is needful to the producing of the effect. The same is also a necessary cause: for if it be possible that a sufficient cause shall not bring forth the effect, then there wanted somewhat which was needful to the producing of it; and so the cause was not sufficient. But if it be impossible that a sufficient cause should not produce the effect, then is a sufficient cause a necessary cause: for that is said to produce an effect necessarily, that cannot but produce it. Hence it is manifest, that whatsoever is produced, is produced necessarily: for whatsoever is produced, hath had a sufficient cause to produce it, or else it had not been. And therefore also voluntary actions are necessitated.

J. D. “This section contains a third argument to prove that all effects are necessary; for clearing whereof, it is needful to consider how a cause may be said to be sufficient or insufficient.

“First, several causes singly considered may be insufficient, and the same taken conjointly be sufficient to produce an effect. As (a) two horses jointly are sufficient to draw a coach, which either of them singly is insufficient to do. Now to make the effect, that is, the drawing of the coach necessary, it is not only required that the two horses be sufficient to draw it, but also that their conjunction be necessary, and their habitude such as they may draw it. If the owner of one of these horses will not suffer him to draw; if the smith have shod the other in the quick, and lamed him; if the horse have cast a shoe, or be a resty jade, and will not draw but when he list; then the effect is not necessarily produced, but contingently more or less, as the concurrence of the causes is more or less contingent.

(b) “Secondly, a cause may be said to be sufficient, either because it produceth that effect which is intended, as in the generation of a man; or else, because it is sufficient to produce that which is produced, as in the generation of a monster. The former is properly called a sufficient cause, the latter a weak and insufficient cause. Now, if the debility of the cause be not necessary, but contingent, then the effect is not necessary, but contingent. It is a rule in logic, that the conclusion always follows the weaker part. If the premises be but probable, the conclusion cannot be demonstrative. It holds as well in causes as in propositions. No effect can exceed the virtue of its cause. If the ability or debility of the causes be contingent, the effect cannot be necessary.

“Thirdly, that which concerns this question of liberty from necessity most nearly, is that (c) a cause is said to be sufficient in respect of the ability of it to act, not in respect of its will to act. The concurrence of the will is needful to the production of a free effect. But the cause may be sufficient, though the will do not concur. As God is sufficient to produce a thousand worlds; but it doth not follow from thence, either that he hath produced them, or that he will produce them. The blood of Christ is a sufficient ransom for all mankind; but it doth not follow therefore, that all mankind shall be actually saved by virtue of his blood. A man may be a sufficient tutor, though he will not teach every scholar, and a sufficient physician, though he will not administer to every patient. For as much therefore as the concurrence of the will is needful to the production of every free effect, and yet the cause may be sufficient in sensu diviso, although the will do not concur; it follows evidently, that the cause may be sufficient, and yet something which is needful to the production of the effect, may be wanting; and that every sufficient cause is not a necessary cause.

“Lastly, if any man be disposed to wrangle against so clear light, and say, that though the free agent be sufficient in sensu diviso, yet he is not sufficient in sensu composito, to produce effect without the concurrence of the will, he saith true: but first, he bewrays the weakness and the fallacy of the former argument, which is a mere trifling between sufficiency in a divided sense, and sufficiency in a compounded sense. And seeing the concurrence of the will is not predetermined, there is no antecedent necessity before it do concur; and when it hath concurred, the necessity is but hypothetical, which may consist with liberty.”

In this place he disputeth against my definition of a sufficient cause, namely, that cause to which nothing is wanting needful to the producing of the effect. I thought this definition could have been misliked by no man that had English enough to know that a sufficient cause, and cause enough, signifieth the same thing. And no man will say that that is cause enough to produce an effect, to which any thing is wanting needful to the producing of it. But the Bishop thinks, if he set down what he understands by sufficient, it would serve to confute my definition: and therefore says: (a) “Two horses jointly are sufficient to draw a coach, which either of them singly is insufficient to do. Now to make the effect, that is, the drawing of the coach necessary, it is not only required that the two horses be sufficient to draw it, but also that it be necessary they shall be joined, and that the owner of the horses will let them draw, and that the smith hath not lamed them, and they be not resty, and list not to draw but when they list: otherwise the effect is contingent”. It seems the Bishop thinks two horses may be sufficient to draw a coach, though they will not draw, or though they be lame, or though they be never put to draw; and I think they can never produce the effect of drawing, without those needful circumstances of being strong, obedient, and having the coach some way or other fastened to them. He calls it a sufficient cause of drawing, that they be coach horses, though they be lame or will not draw. But I say they are not sufficient absolutely, but conditionally, if they be not lame nor resty. Let the reader judge, whether my sufficient cause or his, may properly be called cause enough.

(b) “Secondly, a cause may be said to be sufficient, either because it produceth that effect which is intended, as in the generation of a man; or else, because it is sufficient to produce that which is produced, as in the generation of a monster: the former is properly called a sufficient cause, the latter a weak and insufficient cause.” In these few lines he hath said the cause of the generation of a monster is sufficient to produce a monster, and that it is insufficient to produce a monster. How soon may a man forget his words, that doth not understand them. This term of insufficient cause, which also the School calls deficient, that they may rhyme to efficient, is not intelligible, but a word devised like hocus pocus, to juggle a difficulty out of sight. That which is sufficient to produce a monster, is not therefore to be called an insufficient cause to produce a man; no more than that which is sufficient to produce a man, is to be called an insufficient cause to produce a monster.

(c) “Thirdly, a cause is said to be sufficient in respect to the ability of it to act, not in respect of its will to act, &c. As God is sufficient to produce a thousand worlds.” He understands little, when men say, God is sufficient to produce many worlds, if he understand not the meaning to be, that he is sufficient to produce them if he will. Without this supposition, if he will, a man is not sufficient to produce any voluntary action, not so much as to walk, though he be in health and at liberty. The will is as much a sufficient cause without the strength to do, as the strength without the will. To that which he adds, that my definition is “a mere trifling between a sufficiency in a divided sense, and a sufficiency in a compounded sense”, I can make no answer; because I understand no more what he means by sufficiency in a divided sense, and sufficiency in a compounded sense, than if he had said sufficiency in a divided nonsense, and sufficiency in a compounded nonsense.

T. H. Lastly, I hold that the ordinary definition of a free agent, namely, that a free agent is that, which when all things are present which are needful to produce the effect, can nevertheless not produce it, implies a contradiction, and is nonsense; being as much as to say, the cause may be sufficient, that is, necessary, and yet the effect not follow.

J. D. “This last point is but a corollary, or an inference from the former doctrine, that ‘every sufficient cause produceth its effect necessarily’; which pillar being taken away the superstructure must needs fall to the ground, having nothing left to support it. ‘Lastly, I hold’, saith he. What he is able to prove, is something: so much reason, so much trust. But what he holds, concerns himself, not others. But what holds he? ‘I hold’, saith he, ‘that the ordinary definition of a free agent implies a contradiction, and is nonsense.’ That which he calls the ‘ordinary definition’ of liberty, is the very definition which is given by the much greater part of Philosophers and Schoolmen. And doth he think that all these spake nonsense: or had no more judgment than to contradict themselves in a definition? He might much better suspect himself, than censure so many. Let us see the definition itself: ‘A free agent is that, which when all things are present that are needful to produce the effect, can nevertheless not produce it.’ I acknowledge the old definition of liberty, with little variation. But I cannot see this nonsense, nor discover this contradiction. For (a) in these words, ‘all things needful’, or ‘all things requisite’, the actual determination of the will is not included. But by all things needful or requisite, all necessary power either operative or elective, all necessary instruments and adjuments extrinsical and intrinsical, and all conditions are intended. As he that hath pen, and ink, and paper, a table, a desk, and leisure, the art of writing, and the free use of his hand, hath all things requisite to write if he will; and yet he may forbear if he will. Or as he that hath men, and money, and arms, and munition, and ships, and a just cause, hath all things requisite for war; yet he may make peace if he will. Or as the king proclaimed in the gospel (Matth. xxii. 4): I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fatlings are killed, all things are ready; come unto the marriage. According to T. H.’s doctrine, the guests might have told him that he said not truly, for their own wills were not ready. (b) And indeed if the will were (as he conceives it is) necessitated extrinsically to every act of willing, if it had no power to forbear willing what it doth will, nor to will what it doth not will; then if the will were wanting, something requisite to the producing of the effect was wanting. But now when science and conscience, reason and religion, our own and other men’s experience doth teach us, that the will hath a dominion over its own acts to will or nill without extrinsical necessitation, if the power to will be present in actu primo, determinable by ourselves, then there is no necessary power wanting in this respect to the producing of the effect.

“Secondly, these words, ‘to act or not to act, to work or not to work, to produce or not to produce’, have reference to the effect, not as a thing which is already done or doing, but as a thing to be done. They imply not the actual production, but the producibility of the effect. But when once the will hath actually concurred with all other causes and conditions and circumstances, then the effect is no more possible nor producible, but it is in being, and actually produced. Thus he takes away the subject of the question. The question is, whether effects producible be free from necessity. He shuffles out ‘effects producible’, and thrusts in their places ‘effects produced’, or which are in the act of production. Wherefore I conclude, that it is neither nonsense nor contradiction to say that a free agent, when all things requisite to produce the effect are present, may nevertheless not produce it.

The question is here whether these words ‘a free agent is that, which when all things needful to the production of the effect are present, can nevertheless not produce it’, imply a contradiction; as I say it does. To make it appear no contradiction, he saith: (a) “In these words, ‘all things needful’, or ‘all things requisite’, the actual determination of the will is not included”: as if the will were not needful nor requisite to the producing of a voluntary action. For to the production of any act whatsoever, there is needful, not only those things which proceed from the agent, but also those that consist in the disposition of the patient. And to use his own instance, it is necessary to writing, not only that there be pen, ink, paper, &c.; but also a will to write. He that hath the former, hath all things requisite to write if he will, but not all things necessary to writing. And so in his other instances, he that hath men and money, &c. (without that which he putteth in for a requisite), hath all things requisite to make war if he will, but not simply to make war. And he in the Gospel that had prepared his dinner, had all things requisite for his guests if they came, but not all things requisite to make them come. And therefore “all things requisite”, is a term ill defined by him.

(b) “And indeed if the will were (as he conceives it is) necessitated extrinsically to every act of willing; if it had no power to forbear willing what it doth will, nor to will what it does not will; then if the will were wanting, something requisite to the producing of the effect were wanting. But now when science and conscience, reason and religion, our own and other men’s experience doth teach us, that the will hath a dominion over its own acts to will or nill without extrinsical necessitation, if the power to will be present in actu primo, determinable by ourselves, then there is no necessary power wanting in this respect to the producing of the effect.” These words, “the will hath power to forbear willing what it doth will”; and these, “the will hath a dominion over its own acts”; and these, “the power to will is present in actu primo, determinable by ourselves”; are as wild as ever were any spoken within the walls of Bedlam: and if science, conscience, reason, and religion teach us to speak thus, they make us mad. And that which followeth is false: “to act or not to act, to work or not to work, to produce or not to produce, have reference to the effect, not as a thing which is already done or doing, but as a thing to be done”. For to act, to work, to produce, are the same thing with to be doing. It is not the act, but the power that hath reference to the future: for act and power differ in nothing but in this, that the former signifieth the time present, the latter the time to come. And whereas he adds, that I shuffle out effects producible, and thrust into their places effects produced; I must take it for an untruth, till he cite the place wherein I have done so.

NO. XXXIII.

T. H. For my first five points; where it is explicated, first, what spontaneity is; secondly, what deliberation is; thirdly, what will, propension, and appetite is; fourthly, what a free agent is; fifthly, what liberty is: there can be no other proof offered but every man’s own experience, by reflecting on himself, and remembering what he useth to have in his mind, that is, what he himself meaneth, when he saith, an action is spontaneous, a man deliberates, such is his will, that agent or that action is free. Now, he that so reflecteth on himself, cannot but be satisfied, that deliberation is the considering of the good and evil sequels of the action to come; that by spontaneity is meant inconsiderate proceeding; for else nothing is meant by it; that will is the last act of our deliberation; that a free agent, is he that can do if he will and forbear if he will; and that liberty is the absence of external impediments. But to those that out of custom speak not what they conceive, but what they hear, and are not able or will not take the pains to consider what they think, when they hear such words, no argument can be sufficient; because experience and matter of fact is not verified by other men’s arguments, but by every man’s own sense and memory. For example, how can it be proved, that to love a thing and to think it good are all one, to a man that does not mark his own meaning by those words? Or how can it be proved that eternity is not nunc stans, to a man that says these words by custom, and never considers how he can conceive the thing itself in his mind? Also the sixth point, that a man cannot imagine any thing to begin without a cause, can no other way be made known but by trying how he can imagine it. But if he try, he shall find as much reason, if there be no cause of the thing, to conceive it should begin at one time as another, that is, he hath equal reason to think it should begin at all times, which is impossible. And therefore he must think there was some special cause, why it began then rather than sooner or later; or else, that it began never, but was eternal.

J. D. “Now at length he comes to his main proofs; he that hath so confidently censured the whole current of Schoolmen and Philosophers of nonsense, had need to produce strong evidence for himself. So he calls his reasons, No. XXXVI., demonstrative proofs. All demonstrations are either from the cause or the effect, not from private notions and conceptions which we have in our minds. That which he calls a demonstration, deserves not the name of an intimation. He argues thus: ‘that which a man conceives in his mind by these words, spontaneity, deliberation, &c.; that they are’. This is his proposition, which I deny. (a) The true natures of things are not to be judged by the private ideas, or conceptions of men, but by their causes and formal reasons. Ask an ordinary person what upwards signifies, and whether our antipodes have their heads upwards or downwards; and he will not stick to tell you, that if his head be upwards, theirs must needs be downwards. And this is because he knows not the formal reason thereof; that the heavens encircle the earth, and what is towards heaven is upwards. This same erroneous notion of upwards and downwards, before the true reason was fully discovered, abused more than ordinary capacities; as appears by their arguments of penduli homines, and pendulæ arbores. Again, what do men conceive ordinarily by this word empty, as when they say an empty vessel, or by this word body, as when they say, there is no body in that room? They intend not to exclude the air, either out of the vessel or out of the room: yet reason tells us, that the vessel is not truly empty, and that the air is a true body. I might give a hundred such like instances. He who leaves the conduct of his understanding to follow vulgar notions, shall plunge himself into a thousand errors; like him who leaves a certain guide to follow an ignus fatuus, or a will-with-the-wisp. So his proposition is false. (b) His reason, ‘that matter of fact is not verified by other men’s arguments, but by every man’s own sense and memory’, is likewise maimed on both sides. Whether we hear such words or not, is matter of fact; and sense is the proper judge of it: but what these words do, or ought truly to signify, is not to be judged by sense but by reason. Secondly, reason may, and doth oftentimes correct sense, even about its proper object. Sense tells us that the sun is no bigger than a good ball; but reason demonstrates, that it is many times greater than the whole globe of the earth. As to his instance: ‘how can it be proved, that to love a thing and to think it good is all one, to a man that doth not mark his own meaning by these words’, I confess it cannot be proved; for it is not true. Beauty, and likeness, and love, do conciliate love as much as goodness, cos amoris amor. Love is a passion of the will; but to judge of goodness is an act of the understanding. A father may love an ungracious child, and yet not esteem him good. A man loves his own house better than another man’s; yet he cannot but esteem many others better than his own. His other instance, ‘how can it be proved that eternity is not nunc stans, to a man that says these words by custom, and never considers how he can conceive the thing itself in his mind’, is just like the former, not to be proved by reason, but by fancy, which is the way he takes. And it is not unlike the counsel which one gave to a novice about the choice of his wife, to advise with the bells: as he fancied so they sounded, either take her or leave her.

(c) “Then for his assumption, it is as defective as his proposition, that by those words spontaneity, &c, men do understand as he conceives. No rational man doth conceive a spontaneous action and an indeliberate action to be all one. Every indeliberate action is not spontaneous; the fire considers not whether it should burn, yet the burning of it is not spontaneous. Neither is every spontaneous action indeliberate; a man may deliberate what he will eat, and yet eat it spontaneously. (d) Neither doth deliberation properly signify, the considering of the good and evil sequels of an action to come, but the considering whether this be a good and fit means, or the best and fittest means for obtaining such an end. The physician doth not deliberate whether he should cure his patient, but by what means he should cure him. Deliberation is of the means, not of the end. (e) Much less doth any man conceive with T. H. that deliberation is an imagination, or an act of fancy not of reason, common to men of discretion with madmen, and natural fools, and children, and brute beasts. (f) Thirdly, neither doth any understanding man conceive, or can conceive, that ‘the will is an act of our deliberation’; (the understanding and the will are two distinct faculties); or that ‘only the last appetite is to be called our will’. So no man should be able to say, this is my will, because he knows not whether he shall persevere in it or not. (g) Concerning the fourth point we agree, that ‘he is a free agent that can do if he will, and forbear if he will’. But I wonder how this dropped from his pen. What is now become of his absolute necessity of all things, if a man be free to do and to forbear anything? Will he make himself guilty of the nonsense of the Schoolmen, and run with them into contradictions for company? It may be he will say, he can do if he will, and forbear if he will, but he cannot will if he will. This will not serve his turn; for if the cause of a free action, that is, the will to do it be determined, then the effect, or the action itself is likewise determined; a determined cause cannot produce an undetermined effect; either the agent can will and forbear to will, or else he cannot do and forbear to do. (h) But we differ wholly about the fifth point. He who conceives liberty aright, conceives both a liberty in the subject to will or not to will, and a liberty to the object to will this or that, and a liberty from impediments. T. H. by a new way of his own cuts off the liberty of the subject; as if a stone was free to ascend or descend, because it hath no outward impediment: and the liberty towards the object; as if the needle touched with the loadstone were free to point either towards the north or towards the south, because there is not a barricado in its way to hinder it. Yea, he cuts off the liberty from inward impediments also; as if a hawk were at liberty to fly when her wings are plucked, but not when they are tied. And so he makes liberty from extrinsical impediments to be complete liberty; so he ascribes liberty to brute beasts, and liberty to rivers, and by consequence makes beasts and rivers to be capable of sin and punishment. Assuredly Xerxes, who caused the Hellespont to be beaten with so many stripes, was of this opinion. Lastly, T. H.’s reason, that ‘it is custom, or want of ability, or negligence, which makes a man conceive otherwise’, is but a begging of that which he should prove. Other men consider as seriously as himself, with as much judgment as himself, with less prejudice than himself, and yet they can apprehend no such sense of these words. Would he have other men feign they see fiery dragons in the air, because he affirms confidently that he sees them, and wonders why others are so blind as not to see them?

(i) “The reason for the sixth point is like the former, a fantastical or imaginative reason. ‘How can a man imagine anything to begin without a cause, or if it should begin without a cause, why it should begin at this time rather than at that time?’ He saith truly, nothing can begin without a cause, that is, to be; but it may begin to act of itself without any other cause. Nothing can begin without a cause; but many things may begin, and do begin without necessary causes. A free cause may as well choose his time when he will begin, as a necessary cause be determined extrinsically when it must begin. And although free effects cannot be foretold, because they are not certainly predetermined in their causes; yet when the free causes do determine themselves, they are of as great certainty as the other. As when I see a bell ringing, I can conceive the cause of it as well why it rings now, as I know the interposition of the earth to be the cause of the eclipse of the moon, or the most certain occurrent in the nature of things.

(k) “And now that I have answered T. H.’s arguments drawn from the private conceptions of men concerning the sense of words, I desire him seriously without prejudice to examine himself, and those natural notions which he finds in himself, (not of words, but of things; these are from nature, those are by imposition), whether he doth not find by experience, that he doth many things which he might have left undone if he would, and omits many things which he might have done if he would; whether he doth not some things out of mere animosity and will, without either regard to the direction of right reason or serious respect of what is honest or profitable, only to show that he will have a dominion over his own actions; as we see ordinarily in children, and wise men find at some times in themselves by experience; (and I apprehend this very defence of necessity against liberty to be partly of that kind); whether he is not angry with those who draw him from his study, or cross him in his desires; (if they be necessitated to do it, why should he be angry with them, any more than he is angry with a sharp winter, or a rainy day that keeps him at home against his antecedent will?); whether he doth not sometimes blame himself, and say, ‘O what a fool was I to do thus and thus’, or wish to himself, ‘O that I had been wise’, or, ‘O that I had not done such an act’. If he have no dominion over his actions, if he be irresistibly necessitated to all things that he doth, he might as well wish, ‘O that I had not breathed,’ or blame himself for growing old, ‘O what a fool was I to grow old’.”