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                                  THE
                             ENGLISH WORKS
                                   OF
                             THOMAS HOBBES.

------------------------------------------------------------------------


                                  THE

                             ENGLISH WORKS

                                   OF

                             THOMAS HOBBES

                             OF MALMESBURY;

                     NOW FIRST COLLECTED AND EDITED

                                   BY

                     SIR WILLIAM MOLESWORTH, BART.

                                  ---

                                VOL. V.

                                  ---




                                LONDON:
                               JOHN BOHN,
                    HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN.

                                  ---

                               MDCCCXLI.


                                LONDON:
                C. RICHARDS, PRINTER, ST. MARTIN’S LANE.

                                  THE

                          QUESTIONS CONCERNING

                    LIBERTY, NECESSITY, AND CHANCE,

                       CLEARLY STATED AND DEBATED

                                BETWEEN

                             DR. BRAMHALL,
                            BISHOP OF DERRY,

                                  AND

                             THOMAS HOBBES
                             OF MALMESBURY.




                             TO THE READER.


                                -------


You shall find in this little volume the questions concerning
_necessity_, _freedom_, and _chance_, which in all ages have perplexed
the minds of curious men, largely and clearly discussed, and the
arguments on all sides, drawn from the authority of Scripture, from the
doctrine of the Schools, from natural reason, and from the consequences
pertaining to common life, truly alleged and severally weighed between
two persons, who both maintain that men are free to _do_ as they _will_
and to _forbear_ as they _will_. The things they dissent in are, that
the one holdeth, that it is not in a man’s power now to choose the will
he shall have anon; that chance produceth nothing; that all events and
actions have their necessary causes; that the will of God makes the
necessity of all things. The other on the contrary maintaineth, that not
only the _man_ is free to choose what he will _do_, but the _will_ also
to choose what it shall _will_; that when a man willeth a good action,
God’s will concurreth with his, else not; that the will may choose
whether it will _will_, or not; that many things come to pass without
necessity, by chance; that though God foreknow a thing shall be, yet it
is not necessary that that thing shall be, inasmuch as God seeth not the
future as in its causes, but as present. In sum, they adhere both of
them to the Scripture; but one of them is a learned School-divine, the
other a man that doth not much admire that kind of learning.

This is enough to acquaint you withal in the beginning; which also shall
be more particularly explained by and by in the stating of the question,
and dividing of the arguments into their several heads. The rest you
shall understand from the persons themselves, when they enter. Fare ye
well.

                                                               T. H.




                                -------




                             THE QUESTIONS

                               CONCERNING

                    LIBERTY, NECESSITY, AND CHANCE.


Whether whatsoever comes to pass proceed from _necessity_, or some
things from _chance_, has been a question disputed amongst the old
philosophers long time before the incarnation of our Saviour, without
drawing into argument on either side the almighty power of the Deity.
But the third way of bringing things to pass, distinct from _necessity_
and _chance_, namely, _freewill_, is a thing that never was mentioned
amongst them, nor by the Christians in the beginning of Christianity.
For St. Paul, that disputes that question largely and purposely, never
useth the term of _freewill_; nor did he hold any doctrine equivalent to
that which is now called the doctrine of freewill; but deriveth all
actions from the irresistible will of God, and nothing from the will of
him that _runneth or willeth_. But for some ages past, the doctors of
the Roman Church have exempted from this dominion of God’s will the will
of man; and brought in a doctrine, that not only man, but also his will
is free, and determined to this or that action, not by the will of God,
nor necessary causes, but by the power of the will itself. And though by
the reformed Churches instructed by Luther, Calvin, and others, this
opinion was cast out, yet not many years since it began again to be
reduced by Arminius and his followers, and became the readiest way to
ecclesiastical promotion; and by discontenting those that held the
contrary, was in some part the cause of the following troubles; which
troubles were the occasion of my meeting with the Bishop of Derry at
Paris, where we discoursed together of the argument now in hand; from
which discourse we carried away each of us his own opinion, and for
aught I remember, without any offensive words, as blasphemous,
atheistical, or the like, passing between us; either for that the Bishop
was not then in passion, or suppressed his passion, being then in the
presence of my Lord of Newcastle.

But afterwards the Bishop sent to his Lordship his opinion concerning
the question in writing, and desired him to persuade me to send an
answer thereunto likewise in writing. There were some reasons for which
I thought it might be inconvenient to let my answer go abroad; yet the
many obligations wherein I was obliged to him, prevailed with me to
write this answer, which was afterwards not only without my knowledge,
but also against my will, published by one that found means to get a
copy of it surreptitiously. And thus you have the occasion of this
controversy.


                                -------


                       THE STATE OF THE QUESTION.

The question in general is stated by the Bishop himself, (towards the
end of No. III.), in these words: “Whether all events, natural, civil,
moral, (for we speak not now of the conversion of a sinner, that
concerns not this question), be predetermined extrinsically and
inevitably, without their own concurrence; so as all the actions and
events which either are or shall be, cannot but be, nor can be otherwise
after any other manner or in any other place, time, number, measure,
order, nor to any other end than they are. And all this in respect of
the supreme cause, or a concourse of extrinsical causes, determining
them to one.”

Which though drawn up to his advantage, with as much caution as he would
do a lease, yet (excepting that which is not intelligible) I am content
to admit. Not intelligible is, first, “that the conversion of a sinner
concerns not the question.” If he mean, that the conversion of a sinner
is from necessity, and predetermined, then he is, for so much as the
question concerns religion, of the same mind that I am; and what he can
mean else by that exception, I cannot guess. Secondly, these words,
“without their own concurrence,” are insignificant, unless he mean that
the events themselves should concur to their production: as that fire
doth not necessarily burn without the concurrence of burning, as the
words properly import: or at least without concurrence of the fuel.
Those two clauses left out, I agree with him in the state of the
question as it is put universally. But when the question is put of the
necessity of any particular event, as of the will to write, or the like,
then it is the stating of that particular question: but it is decided in
the decision of the question universal.

He states the same question again in another place thus: “This is the
very question where the water sticks between us, whether there be such a
liberty free from necessitation and extrinsical determination to one, or
not.” And I allow it also for well stated so.

Again he says, “In a word, so great difference there is between natural
and moral efficacy, as there is between his opinion and mine in this
question.” So that the state of the question is reduced to this,
“Whether there be a moral efficacy which is not natural?” I say there is
not: he says there is.

Again he writes thus: “And therefore as it were ridiculous to say, that
the object of 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.” Here also the question is brought to this issue, “Whether
the object of sight be the cause that it is seen?” But for these words,
“proposing of the object by the understanding to the will,” I understand
them not.

Again, he often useth such words as these: “The will willeth; the will
suspendeth its act, (_Rid est_, the will willeth not); the understanding
proposeth; the understanding understandeth.” Herein also lyeth the whole
question. If they be true, I, if false, he is in error.

Again, the whole question is decided, when this is decided, “Whether he
that willingly permitteth a thing to be done, when without labour,
danger, or diversion of mind, he might have hindered it, do not will the
doing of it?”

Again the whole question of free-will is included in this, “Whether the
will determine itself?”

Again, it is included in this, “Whether there be an universal grace,
which particular men can take without a particular grace to take it?”

Lastly, there be two questions; one, “Whether a man be free in such
things as are within his power, to do what he will;” another, “Whether
he be free to will.” Which is as much as to say (because will is
appetite), it is one question, whether he be free to eat that has an
appetite, and another, whether he be free to have an appetite? In the
former, “whether a man be free to do what he will,” I agree with the
Bishop. In the latter, “whether he be free to will,” I dissent from him.
And, therefore, all the places of Scripture that he allegeth to prove
that a man hath liberty to do what he will, are impertinent to the
question. If he has not been able to distinguish between these two
questions, he has not done well to meddle with either: if he has
understood them, to bring arguments to prove that a man is free to do if
he will, is to deal uningenuously and fraudulently with his readers. And
thus much for the state of the question.


                                -------


              THE FOUNTAINS OF ARGUMENT IN THIS QUESTION.

The arguments by which this question is disputed, are drawn from four
fountains. 1. From _authorities_. 2. From _the inconveniences consequent
to either opinion_. 3. From _the attributes of God_. 4. From _natural
reason_.

The _authorities_ are of two sorts, _divine_ and _human_. _Divine_ are
those which are taken from the holy Scriptures. _Human_ also are of two
sorts; one, the authorities of those men that are generally esteemed to
have been learned, especially in this question, as the Fathers,
Schoolmen, and old Philosophers: the other, are the vulgar and most
commonly received opinions in the world.

His reasons and places of Scripture I will answer the best I am able;
but his human authorities I shall admit and receive as far as to
Scripture and reason they be consonant, and no further.

And for the arguments derived from the attributes of God, so far forth
as those attributes are argumentative, that is, so far forth as their
significations be conceivable, I admit them for arguments; but where
they are given for honour only, and signify nothing but an intention and
endeavour to praise and magnify as much as we can Almighty God, there I
hold them not for arguments, but for oblations; not for the language,
but (as the Scripture calls them) for the calves of our lips; which
signify not true nor false, nor any opinion of our brain, but the
reverence and devotion of our hearts; and therefore they are no
sufficient premises to infer truth or convince falsehood.

The places of Scripture that make for me are these. First, (Gen. xlv.
5): Joseph saith to his brethren that had sold him, _Be not grieved nor
angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither: for God did send me
before you to preserve life._ And again (verse 8), _So now it was not
you that sent me hither, but God._

And concerning Pharaoh, God saith, (Exod. vii. 3): _I will harden
Pharaoh’s heart._ And concerning Sihon King of Heshbon, Moses saith,
(Deut. ii. 30): _The Lord thy God hardened his spirit, and made his
heart obstinate._

And of Shimei that did curse David, David himself saith, (2 Sam. xvi.
10): _Let him curse, because the Lord hath said unto him, curse David._
And (1 Kings, xii. 15): _The King hearkened not to the people, for the
curse was from the Lord._

And Job, disputing this very question, saith, (Job xii. 14): _God
shutteth man, and there can be no opening_: and verse 16: _The deceived
and the deceiver are his_: and verse 17: _He maketh the Judges fools_:
and verse 24: _He taketh away the heart of the chief of the people of
the earth, and causeth them to wander in a wilderness where there is no
way_: and verse 25: _He maketh them to stagger like a drunken man._

And of the King of Assyria, God saith, _I will give him a charge to take
the spoil, and to take the prey, and to tread them down like the mire of
the streets._ (Isaiah x. 6.)

And Jeremiah saith, (Jer. x. 23): _O Lord, I know that the way of man is
not in himself, it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps._

And to Ezekiel, whom God sent as a watchman to the house of Israel, God
saith thus: _When a righteous man doth turn from his righteousness, and
commit iniquity, and I lay a stumbling block before him, he shall die;
because thou hast not given him warning, he shall die in his sin._
(Ezek. iii. 20.) Note here, God lays the stumbling block, yet he that
falleth dieth in his sin: which shows that God’s justice in killing
dependeth not on the sin only.

And our Saviour saith, (John vi. 44): _No man can come to me, except the
Father which hath sent me draw him._

And St. Peter, concerning the delivering of Christ to the Jews, saith
thus, (Acts ii. 23): _Him being delivered by the determinate counsel and
foreknowledge of God, ye have taken_, &c.

And again, those Christians to whom Peter and John resorted after they
were freed from their troubles about the miracle of curing the lame man,
praising God for the same, say thus: _Of a truth against the holy child
Jesus whom thou hast anointed, both Herod and Pontius Pilate, with the
Gentiles and the people of Israel, were gathered together for to do
whatsoever thy hand and thy counsel determined before to be done._ (Acts
iv. 27, 28.)

And St. Paul, Rom. ix. 16: _It is not of him that willeth, nor of him
that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy_: and verse 18, 19, 20:
_Therefore hath he mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom he will he
hardeneth. Thou wilt say unto me, why doth he yet find fault; for who
hath resisted his will? Nay but, O man, who art thou that disputest
against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, why hast
thou made me thus?_

And again, (1 Cor. iv 7): _Who maketh thee differ from another? and what
hast thou that thou hast not received?_ and 1 Cor. xii. 6: _There are
diversities of operations, but it is the same God that worketh all in
all_: and Eph. ii. 10: _We are his workmanship created in Jesus Christ
unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in
them_: and Philip. ii. 13: _It is God that worketh in you both to will
and to do, of his good pleasure._

To these places may be added all the places that make God the giver of
all graces, that is to say, of all good habits and inclinations; and all
the places wherein men are said to be dead in sin. For by all these it
is manifest, that although a man may live holily if he _will_, yet _to
will_ is the work of God, and not eligible by man.

A second sort of places there be, that make equally for the Bishop and
me; and they be such as say that a man hath election, and may do many
things _if he will_, and also _if he will_ he may leave them undone; but
not that God Almighty naturally or supernaturally worketh in us every
act of the will, as in my opinion; nor that he worketh it not, as in the
Bishop’s opinion; though he use those places as arguments on his side.

The places are such as these, (Deut. xxx. 19): _I call heaven and earth
to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and
death, blessing and cursing. Therefore choose life, that both thou and
thy seed may live_: and (Ecclesiasticus xv. 14): _God in the beginning
made man, and left him in the hand of his counsel_: and verse 16, 17:
_He hath set fire and water before thee, stretch forth thy hand to
whither thou wilt. Before man is life and death, and whether him liketh
shall be given him._

And those places which the Bishop citeth: _If a wife make a vow, it is
left to her husband’s choice, either to establish it, or to make it
void_, (Numb. xxx. 13): and (Josh. xxiv. 15): _Chuse ye this day whom
you will serve_, &c. _But I and my house will serve the Lord_: and (2
Sam. xxiv. 12): _I offer thee three things, choose which of them I shall
do_: and (Isaiah vii. 16): _before the child shall know to refuse the
evil and choose the good_. And besides these very many other places to
the same effect.

The third sort of texts are those which seem to make against me. As
Isaiah v. 4: _What could have been done more to my vineyard, that I have
not done in it?_

And Jeremiah xix. 5: _They have also built the high places of Baal, to
burn their sons with fire for burnt offerings unto Baal; which I
commanded not, nor spake it, neither came it into my mind._

And Hosea xiii. 9: _O Israel, thy destruction is from thyself, but in me
is thy help._

And 1 Tim. ii. 4: _Who will have all men to be saved, and to come to the
knowledge of truth._

And Eccl. xv. 11, 12: _Say not thou, it is through the Lord I fell away;
for thou oughtest not to do the things that he hateth. Say not thou, he
hath caused me to err; for he hath no need of thee, sinful man._ And
many other places to the like purpose.

You see how great the apparent contradiction is between the first and
the third sort of texts, which being both Scripture, may and must be
reconciled and made to stand together; which unless the rigour of the
letter be on one or both sides with intelligible and reasonable
interpretations mollified, is impossible.

The Schoolmen, to keep the literal sense of the third sort of texts,
interpret the first sort thus; the words of Joseph, _It was not you that
sent me hither, but God_; they interpret in this manner: _It was you
that sold me into Egypt, God did but permit it; it was God that sent me
and not you_; as if the _selling_ were not the _sending_. This is
Suarez; of whom and the Bishop I would know, whether the _selling_ of
Joseph did infallibly and inevitably follow that permission. If it did,
then that _selling_ was necessitated beforehand by an eternal
permission. If it did not, how can there be attributed to God a
foreknowledge of it, when by the _liberty of human will_ it might have
been frustrated? I would know also whether the _selling_ of Joseph into
Egypt were a sin? If it were, why doth Joseph say, _Be not grieved nor
angry with yourselves that ye sold me hither_? Ought not a man to be
grieved and angry with himself for sinning? If it were no sin, then
treachery and fratricide is no sin.

Again, seeing the _selling_ of him consisted in these acts, _binding_,
_speaking_, _delivering_, which are all corporeal motions, did God
_will_ they should not be, how then could they be done? Or doth he
permit barely, and neither _will_ nor _nill_ corporeal and local
motions? How then is God the first mover and cause of all local motion?
Did he cause the motion, and _will_ the law against it, but not the
irregularity? How can that be, seeing the motion and law being existent,
the contrariety of the motion and law is necessarily coexistent?

So these places, _He hardened Pharaoh’s heart_, _he made Sihon’s heart
obstinate_, they interpret thus: “He permitted them to make their own
hearts obstinate.” But seeing that man’s heart without the grace of God,
is uninclinable to good, the _necessity_ of the hardness of heart, both
in Pharaoh and in Sihon, is as easily derived from God’s _permission_,
that is, from his withholding his grace, as from his _positive decree_.
And whereas they say, He _wills_ godly and free actions conditionally
and consequently, that is, if the man _will_ them, then God _wills_
them, else not; and _wills_ not evil actions, but _permits_ them; they
ascribe to God nothing at all in the causation of any action either good
or bad.

Now to the third sort of places, that seem to contradict the former, let
us see if they may not be reconciled with a more intelligible and
reasonable interpretation, than that wherewith the Schoolmen interpret
the first.

It is no extraordinary kind of language, to call the commandments and
exhortations and other significations of the _will_, by the name of
_will_; though the _will_ be an internal act of the soul, and commands
are but words and signs external of that internal act. So that the
_will_ and the _word_ are diverse things; and differ as the _thing
signified_, and the _sign_. And hence it comes to pass, that the Word
and Commandment of God, namely, the holy Scripture, is usually called by
Christians God’s will, but his revealed will; acknowledging the very
will of God, which they call his counsel and decree, to be another
thing. For the revealed will of God to Abraham was, that Isaac should be
sacrificed; but it was his will he should not. And his revealed will to
Jonas, that Nineveh should be destroyed within forty days; but not his
decree and purpose. His decree and purpose cannot be known beforehand,
but may afterwards by the event; for from the event we may infer his
will. But his revealed will, which is his word, must be foreknown,
because it ought to be the rule of our actions.

Therefore, where it is said that _God will have all men to be saved_, it
is not meant of his will internal, but of his commandments or will
revealed; as if it had been said, “God hath given commandments, by
following of which all men may be saved.” So where God says, _O Israel,
how often would I have gathered thee_, &c., _as a hen doth her chickens,
but thou wouldest not_, it is thus to be understood: “How oft have I by
my prophets given thee such counsel, as, being followed, thou hadst been
gathered,” &c. And the like interpretations are to be given to the like
places. For it is not Christian to think, if God had the purpose to save
all men, that any man could be damned; because it were a sign of want of
power to effect what he would. So these words, _What could have been
done more to my vineyard, that I have not done_: if by them be meant the
Almighty power, might receive this answer: “Men might have been kept by
it from sinning.” But when we are to measure God by his revealed will,
it is as if he had said, “What directions, what laws, what threatenings
could have been used more, that I have not used?” God doth not will and
command us to inquire what his will and purpose is, and accordingly to
do it; for we shall do that, whether we will or not; but to look into
his commandments, that is, as to the Jews, the law of Moses; and as to
other people, the laws of their country.

_O Israel, thy destruction is from thyself, but in me is thy help_: or
as some English translations have it, _O Israel, thou hast destroyed
thyself_, &c., is literally true, but maketh nothing against me; for the
man that sins willingly, whatsoever be the cause of his will, if he be
not forgiven, hath destroyed himself, as being his own act.

Where it is said, _They have offered their sons unto Baal, which I
commanded not, nor spake it, nor came it into my mind_; these words,
_nor came it into my mind_, are by some much insisted on, as if they had
done it without the will of God. For whatsoever is done comes into God’s
mind, that is, into his knowledge, which implies a certainty of the
future action, and that certainty an antecedent purpose of God to bring
it to pass. It cannot therefore be meant God did not will it, but that
he had not the will to command it. But by the way it is to be noted,
that when God speaks to men concerning his will and other attributes, he
speaks of them as if they were like to those of men, to the end he may
be understood. And therefore to the order of his work, the world,
wherein one thing follows another so aptly as no man could order it by
design, he gives the name of will and purpose. For that which we call
design, which is reasoning, and thought after thought, cannot be
properly attributed to God; in whose thoughts there is no _fore_ nor
_after_.

But what shall we answer to the words in Ecclesiasticus: _Say not thou,
it is through the Lord I fell away; say not thou, he hath caused me to
err_. If it had not been, _say not thou_, but “think not thou,” I should
have answered that Ecclesiasticus is Apocrypha, and merely human
authority. But it is very true that such words as these are not to be
said; first, because St. Paul forbids it: _Shall the thing formed_,
saith he, _say to him that formed it, why hast thou made me so?_ Yet
true it is, that he did so make him. Secondly, because we ought to
attribute nothing to God but what we conceive to be honourable, and we
judge nothing honourable but what we count so amongst ourselves; and
because accusation of man is not honourable, therefore such words are
not to be used concerning God Almighty. And for the same cause it is not
lawful to say that any action can be done, which God hath purposed shall
not be done; for it is a token of want of the power to hinder it.
Therefore neither of them is to be said, though one of them must needs
be true. Thus you see how disputing of God’s nature which is
incomprehensible, driveth men upon one of these two rocks. And this was
the cause I was unwilling to have my answer to the Bishop’s doctrine of
liberty published.

And thus much for comparison of our two opinions with the Scriptures;
which whether it favour more his or mine, I leave to be judged by the
reader. And now I come to compare them again by _the inconveniences
which may be thought to follow them_.

First, the bishop says, that this very persuasion, that all things come
to pass by _necessity_, is able to overthrow all societies and
commonwealths in the world. The laws, saith he, are unjust which
prohibit that which a man cannot possibly shun.

Secondly, that it maketh superfluous and foolish all consultations,
arts, arms, books, instruments, teachers, and medicines, and which is
worst, piety and all other acts of devotion. For if the event be
necessary, it will come to pass whatsoever we do, and whether we sleep
or wake.

This inference, if there were not as well a necessity of the means as
there is of the event, might be allowed for true. But according to my
opinion, both the event and means are equally necessitated. But
supposing the inference true, it makes as much against him that denies
as against him that holds this necessity. For I believe the Bishop holds
for as certain a truth, _what shall be, shall be_, as _what is, is_, or
_what has been, has been_. And then the ratiocination of the sick man,
“If I shall recover, what need I this unsavoury potion? if I shall not
recover, what good will it do me?” is a good ratiocination. But the
Bishop holds, that it is necessary he shall recover or not recover.
Therefore it follows from an opinion of the Bishop’s, as well as from
mine, that medicine is superfluous. But as medicine is to health, so is
piety, consultation, arts, arms, books, instruments, and teachers, every
one to its several end. Out of the Bishop’s opinion it follows as well
as from mine, that medicine is superfluous to health. Therefore from his
opinion as well as from mine, it followeth, (if such ratiocination were
not unsound), that piety, consultation, &c. are also superfluous to
their respective ends. And for the superfluity of laws, whatsoever be
the truth of the question between us, they are not superfluous, because
by the punishing of one, or of a few unjust men, they are the cause of
justice in a great many.

But the greatest inconvenience of all that the Bishop pretends may be
drawn from this opinion, is, “that God in justice cannot punish a man
with eternal torments for doing that which it was never in his power to
leave undone.” It is true, that seeing the name of punishment hath
relation to the name of crime, there can be no punishment but for crimes
that might have been left undone; but instead of _punishment_ if he had
said _affliction_, may not I say that God may afflict, and not for sin?
Doth he not afflict those creatures that cannot sin? And sometimes those
that can sin, and yet not for sin, as Job, and the man in the gospel
that was born blind, for the manifestation of his power which he hath
over his creature, no less but more than hath the potter over his clay
to make of it what he please? But though God have power to afflict a man
and not for sin without injustice, shall we think God so cruel as to
afflict a man, and not for sin, with extreme and endless torment? Is it
not cruelty? No more than to do the same for sin, when he that so
afflicteth might without trouble have kept him from sinning. But what
infallible evidence hath the Bishop, that a man shall be after this life
eternally in torments and never die? Or how is it certain there is no
second death, when the Scripture saith there is? Or where doth the
Scripture say that a second death is an endless life? Or do the Doctors
only say it? Then perhaps they do but say so, and for reasons best known
to themselves. There is no injustice nor cruelty in him that giveth
life, to give with it sickness, pain, torments, and death; nor in him
that giveth life twice, to give the same miseries twice also. And thus
much in answer to the inconveniences that are pretended to follow the
doctrine of necessity.

On the other side from this position, that a man is free to will, it
followeth that the prescience of God is quite taken away. For how can it
be known beforehand what man shall have a will to, if that will of his
proceed not from necessary causes, but that he have in his power to will
or not will? So also those things which are called future contingents,
if they come not to pass with certainty, that is to say, from necessary
causes, can never be foreknown; so that God’s foreknowing shall
sometimes be of things that shall not come to pass, which is as much to
say, that his foreknowledge is none; which is a great dishonour to the
all-knowing power.

Though this be all the inconvenient doctrine that followeth _free-will_,
forasmuch as I can now remember; yet the defending of this opinion hath
drawn the Bishop and other patrons of it into many inconvenient and
absurd conclusions, and made them make use of an infinite number of
insignificant words; whereof one conclusion is in Suarez, that God doth
so concur with the will of man, that _if man will, then God concurs_;
which is to subject not the will of man to God, but the will of God to
man. Other inconvenient conclusions I shall then mark out, when I come
to my observations upon the Bishop’s reply. And thus far concerning the
inconveniences that follow both opinions.

The attribute of God which he draweth into argument is his _justice_, as
that God cannot be just in punishing any man for that which he was
necessitated to do. To which I have answered before, as being one of the
inconveniences pretended to follow upon the doctrine of necessity. On
the contrary, from another of God’s attributes, which is his
_foreknowledge_, I shall evidently derive, that all actions whatsoever,
whether they proceed from the will or from fortune, were necessary from
eternity. For whatsoever God foreknoweth shall come to pass, cannot but
come to pass, that is, it is impossible it should not come to pass, or
otherwise come to pass than it was foreknown. But whatsoever was
impossible should be otherwise, was necessary; for the definition of
_necessary_ is, that which cannot possibly be otherwise. And whereas
they that distinguish between God’s _prescience_ and his _decree_, say
the foreknowledge maketh not the necessity without the decree; it is
little to the purpose. It sufficeth me, that whatsoever was foreknown by
God, was necessary: but all things were foreknown by God, and therefore
all things were necessary. And as for the distinction of foreknowledge
from decree in God Almighty, I comprehend it not. They are acts
co-eternal, and therefore one.

And as for the arguments drawn from natural reason they are set down at
large in the end of my discourse to which the Bishop maketh his reply;
which how well he hath answered, shall appear in due time. For the
present, the actions which he thinketh proceed from liberty of will,
must either be necessitated, or proceed from fortune, without any other
cause; for certainly to _will_ is impossible without thinking on what he
willeth. But it is in no man’s election what he shall at any named time
hereafter think on. And this I take to be enough to clear the
understanding of the reader, that he may be the better able to judge of
the following disputation. I find in those that write of this argument,
especially in the Schoolmen and their followers, so many words strangers
to our language, and such confusion and inanity in the ranging of them,
as that a man’s mind in the reading of them distinguisheth nothing. And
as things were in the beginning before the Spirit of God was moved upon
the abyss, _tohu_ and _bohu_, that is to say, confusion and emptiness;
so are their discourses.




                                -------


                      “TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE
                         MARQUIS OF NEWCASTLE,
                                  ETC.

    “SIR,--

“If I pretended to compose a complete treatise upon this subject, I
should not refuse those large recruits of reasons and authorities which
offer themselves to serve in this cause, for God and man, religion and
policy, Church and Commonwealth, (_a_) against the blasphemous,
desperate, and destructive opinion of fatal destiny. But as (_b_) mine
aim, in the first discourse, was only to press home those things in
writing, which had been agitated between us by word of mouth, (a course
much to be preferred before verbal conferences, as being freer from
passions and tergiversations, less subject to mistakes and misrelations,
wherein paralogisms are more quickly detected, impertinences discovered,
and confusion avoided), so my present intention is only to vindicate
that discourse, and together with it, (_c_) those lights of the Schools,
who were never slighted but where they were not understood. How far I
have performed it, I leave to the judicious and impartial reader,
resting for mine own part well contented with this, that I have
satisfied myself.

                                 Your Lordship’s most obliged,
                                         to love and serve you,
                                                             “J. D.”


                          ANIMADVERSIONS UPON
             THE BISHOP’S EPISTLE TO MY LORD OF NEWCASTLE.


(_a_) “Against the blasphemous, desperate, and destructive opinion of
fatal destiny.”

This is but choler, such as ordinarily happeneth unto them who contend
against greater difficulties than they expected.

(_b_) “My aim in the first discourse was only to press home those things
in writing, which had been agitated between us by word of mouth: a
course much to be preferred before verbal conferences, as being freer
from passions, &c.”

He is here, I think, mistaken; for in our verbal conference there was
not one passionate word, nor any objecting of blasphemy or atheism, nor
any other uncivil word; of which in his writing there are abundance.

(_c_) “Those lights of the Schools, who were never slighted but where
they were not understood.”

I confess I am not apt to admire every thing I understand not, nor yet
to slight it. And though the Bishop slight not the Schoolmen so much as
I do, yet I dare say he understands their writings as little as I do.
For they are in most places unintelligible.


                                -------


                             TO THE READER.

“Christian reader, this ensuing treatise was (_a_) neither penned nor
intended for the press, but privately undertaken, that by the
ventilation of the question truth might be cleared from mistakes. The
same was Mr. Hobbes’ desire at that time, as appeareth by four passages
in his book, wherein he requesteth and beseecheth that it may be kept
private. But either through forgetfulness or change of judgment, he hath
now caused or permitted it to be printed in England, without either
adjoining my first discourse, to which he wrote that answer, or so much
as mentioning this reply, which he hath had in his hands now these eight
years. So wide is the date of his letter, in the year 1652, from the
truth, and his manner of dealing with me in this particular from
ingenuity, (if the edition were with his own consent). Howsoever, here
is all that passed between us upon this subject, without any addition,
or the least variation from the original.

“Concerning the nameless author of the preface, who takes upon him to
hang out an ivy-bush before this rare piece of sublimated stoicism to
invite passengers to purchase it, as I know not who he is, so I do not
much heed it, nor regard either his ignorant censures or hyperbolical
expressions. The Church of England is as much above his detraction, as
he is beneath this question. Let him lick up the spittle of Dionysius by
himself, as his servile flatterers did, and protest that it is more
sweet than nectar; we envy him not; much good may it do him. His very
frontispiece is a sufficient confutation of his whole preface, wherein
he tells the world, as falsely and ignorantly as confidently, that ‘all
controversy concerning predestination, election, free-will, grace,
merits, reprobation, &c., is fully decided and cleared.’ Thus he
accustometh his pen to run over beyond all limits of truth and
discretion, to let us see that his knowledge in theological
controversies is none at all, and into what miserable times we are
fallen, when blind men will be the only judges of colours. _Quid tanto
dignum feret hic promissor hiatu._

“There is yet one thing more, whereof I desire to advertise the reader,
(_b_) Whereas Mr. Hobbes mentions my objections to his book _De Cive_,
it is true that ten years since I gave him about sixty exceptions, the
one-half of them political, the other half theological, to that book,
and every exception justified by a number of reasons, to which he never
yet vouchsafed any answer. Nor do I now desire it, for since that, he
hath published his _Leviathan, Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui
lumen ademptum_, which affords much more matter of exception; and I am
informed that there are already two, the one of our own Church, the
other a stranger, who have shaken in pieces the whole fabric of his
city, that was but builded in the air, and resolved that huge mass of
his seeming Leviathan into a new nothing; and that their labours will
speedily be published. But if this information should not prove true, I
will not grudge upon his desire, God willing, to demonstrate, that his
principles are pernicious both to piety and policy, and destructive to
all relations of mankind, between prince and subject, father and child,
master and servant, husband and wife; and that they who maintain them
obstinately, are fitter to live in hollow trees among wild beasts, than
in any Christian or political society. So God bless us.”


                                -------


                          ANIMADVERSIONS UPON
                  THE BISHOP’S EPISTLE TO THE READER.

(_a_) “Neither penned nor intended for the press, but privately
undertaken, that by the ventilation of the question truth might be
cleared. The same was Mr. Hobbes’ desire at that time, as appeareth by
four passages in his book, &c.”

It is true that it was not my intention to publish any thing in this
question. And the Bishop might have perceived, by not leaving out those
four passages, that it was without my knowledge the book was printed;
but it pleased him better to take this little advantage to accuse me of
want of ingenuity. He might have perceived also, by the date of my
letter, 1652, which was written 1646, (which error could be no advantage
to me), that I knew nothing of the printing of it. I confess, that
before I received the bishop’s reply, a French gentleman of my
acquaintance in Paris, knowing that I had written something of this
subject, but not understanding the language, desired me to give him
leave to get it interpreted to him by an English young man that resorted
to him; which I yielded to. But this young man taking his opportunity,
and being a nimble writer, took a copy of it for himself, and printed it
here, all but the postscript, without my knowledge, and (as he knew)
against my will; for which he since hath asked me pardon. But that the
Bishop intended it not for the press, is not very probable, because he
saith he writ it to the end “that by the ventilation of the question,
truth might be cleared from mistakes;” which end he had not obtained by
keeping it private.

(_b_) “Whereas Mr. Hobbes mentions my objections to his book _De Cive_:
it is true that ten years since, I gave him about sixty exceptions,” &c.

I did indeed intend to have answered those exceptions as finding them
neither political nor theological, nor that he alleged any reasons by
which they were to be justified. But shortly after, intending to write
in English, and publish my thoughts concerning Civil Doctrine in that
book which I entitled _Leviathan_, I thought his objections would by the
clearness of my method fall off without an answer. Now this _Leviathan_
he calleth “_Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum_.”
Words not far fetched, nor more applicable to my _Leviathan_, than to
any other writing that should offend him. For allowing him the word
_monstrum_, (because it seems he takes it for a monstrous great fish),
he can neither say it is _informe_; for even they that approve not the
doctrine, allow the method. Nor that it is _ingens_; for it is a book of
no great bulk. Nor _cui lumen ademptum_; for he will find very few
readers that will not think it clearer than his scholastic jargon. And
whereas he saith there are two of our own Church (as he hears say) that
are answering it; and that “he himself,” if I desire it, “will
demonstrate that my principles are pernicious both to piety and policy,
and destructive to all relations,” &c.: my answer is, that _I_ desire
not that he or they should so misspend their time; but if they will
needs do it, I can give them a fit title for their book, _Behemoth
against Leviathan_. He ends his epistle with “so God bless us.” Which
words are good in themselves, but to no purpose here; but are a
buffoonly abusing of the name of God to calumny.




                                -------


                                   A

                      VINDICATION OF TRUE LIBERTY

                                  FROM

                 ANTECEDENT AND EXTRINSICAL NECESSITY.


                                -------


_J. D._ “Either I am free to write this discourse for liberty against
necessity, or I am not free. If I be free, I have obtained the cause,
and ought not to suffer for the truth. If I be not free, yet I ought not
to be blamed, since I do it not out of any voluntary election, but out
of an inevitable necessity.”

_T. H._ Right Honourable, I had once resolved to answer J. D.’s
objections to my book _De Cive_ in the first place, as that which
concerns me most; and afterwards to examine this Discourse of Liberty
and Necessity, which, because I never had uttered my opinion of it,
concerned me the less. But seeing it was both your Lordship’s and J.
D.’s desire that I should begin with the latter, I was contented so to
do. And here I present and submit it to your Lordship’s judgment.

_J. D._ “The first day that I did read over T. H.’s defence of the
necessity of all things, was April 20th, 1646. Which proceeded not out
of any disrespect to him; for if all his discourses had been geometrical
demonstrations, able not only to persuade, but also to compel assent,
all had been one to me, first my journey, and afterwards some other
trifles which we call business, having diverted me until then. And then
my occasions permitting me, and an advertisement from a friend awakening
me, I set myself to a serious examination of it. We commonly see those
who delight in paradoxes, if they have line enough, confute themselves;
and their speculatives and their practices familiarly interfere one with
another. (_b_) The very first words of T. H.’s defence trip up the heels
of his whole cause; ‘I had once resolved.’ To _resolve_ presupposeth
deliberation. But what deliberation can there be of that which is
inevitably determined by causes without ourselves, before we do
deliberate? Can a condemned man deliberate whether he should be executed
or not? It is even to as much purpose, as for a man to consult and
ponder with himself whether he should draw in his breath, or whether he
should increase in stature. Secondly, (_c_) to _resolve_ implies a man’s
dominion over his own actions, and his actual determination of himself.
But he who holds an absolute necessity of all things, hath quitted this
dominion over himself; and (which is worse) hath quitted it to the
second extrinsical causes, in which he makes all his actions to be
determined. One may as well call again yesterday, as _resolve_ or newly
determine that which is determined to his hand already. (_d_) I have
perused this treatise, weighed T. H.’s answers, considered his reasons,
and conclude that he hath missed, and misled the question, that the
answers are evasions, that his arguments are paralogisms, that the
opinion of absolute and universal necessity is but a result of some
groundless and ill-chosen principles, and that the defect is not in
himself, but that his cause will admit no better defence; and therefore,
by his favour, I am resolved to adhere to my first opinion. Perhaps
another man reading this discourse with other eyes, judgeth it to be
pertinent and well-founded. How comes this to pass? The treatise is the
same, the exterior causes are the same; yet the resolution is contrary.
Do the second causes play fast and loose? Do they necessitate me to
condemn, and necessitate him to maintain? What is it then? The
difference must be in ourselves, either in our intellectuals, because
the one sees clearer than the other; or in our affections, which betray
our understandings, and produce an implicit adherence in the one more
than in the other. Howsoever it be, the difference is in ourselves. The
outward causes alone do not chain me to the one resolution, nor him to
the other resolution. But T. H. may say, that our several and respective
deliberations and affections are in part the causes of our contrary
resolutions, and do concur with the outward causes to make up one total
and adequate cause to the necessary production of this effect. If it be
so, he hath spun a fair thread, to make all this stir for such a
necessity as no man ever denied or doubted of. When all the causes have
actually determined themselves, then the effect is in being; for though
there be a priority in nature between the cause and the effect, yet they
are together in time. And the old rule is, (_e_) ‘whatsoever is, when it
is, is necessarily so as it is.’ This is no absolute necessity, but only
upon supposition, that a man hath determined his own liberty. When we
question whether all occurrences be necessary, we do not question
whether they be necessary when they are, nor whether they be necessary
_in sensu composito_, after we have resolved and finally determined what
to do; but whether they were necessary before they were determined by
ourselves, by or in the precedent causes before ourselves, or in the
exterior causes without ourselves. It is not inconsistent with true
liberty to determine itself, but it is inconsistent with true liberty to
be determined by another without itself.

“T. H. saith further ‘that upon your Lordship’s desire and mine, he was
contented to begin with this discourse of Liberty and Necessity,’ that
is, to change his former resolution. (_f_) If the chain of necessity be
no stronger, but that it may be snapped so easily insunder; if his will
was no otherwise determined without himself, but only by the
signification of your Lordship’s desire and my modest entreaty, then we
may easily conclude that human affairs are not always governed by
absolute necessity; that a man is lord of his own actions, if not in
chief, yet in mean, subordinate to the Lord paramount of heaven and
earth; and that all things are not so absolutely determined in the
outward and precedent causes, but that fair entreaties and moral
persuasions may work upon a good nature so far, as to prevent that which
otherwise had been, and to produce that which otherwise had not been. He
that can reconcile this with an antecedent necessity of all things, and
a physical or natural determination of all causes, shall be great Apollo
to me.

“Whereas T. H. saith that he had never uttered his opinion of this
question, I suppose he intends in writing; my conversation with him hath
not been frequent, yet I remember well that when this question was
agitated between us two in your Lordship’s chamber by your command, he
did then declare himself in words, both for the absolute necessity of
all events, and for the ground of this necessity, the flux or
concatenation of the second causes.”

             ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. I.

(_a_) “The first day that I did read over T. H.’s defence of necessity,”
&c.

His deferring the reading of my defence of necessity, he will not, he
saith, should be interpreted for disrespect. ’Tis well; though I cannot
imagine why he should fear to be thought to disrespect me. “He was
diverted,” he saith, “by trifles called business.” It seems then he
acknowledgeth that the will can be diverted by business. Which, though
said on the _by_, is contrary I think to the main, that the will is
free; for free it is not, if anything but itself can divert it.

(_b_) “The very first words of T. H.’s defence, trip up the heels of his
whole cause, &c.”

How so? “I had once,” saith he, “resolved. To resolve presupposeth
deliberation. But what deliberation can there be of that which is
inevitably determined without ourselves?” There is no man doubts but a
man may deliberate of what himself shall do, whether the thing be
impossible or not, in case he know not of the impossibility; though he
cannot deliberate of what another shall do to him. Therefore his
examples of the man condemned, of the man that breatheth, and of him
that groweth, because the question is not what they shall do, but what
they shall suffer, are impertinent. This is so evident, that I wonder
how he that was before so witty as to say, my first words tripped up the
heels of my cause, and that having line enough I would confute myself,
could presently be so dull as not to see his argument was too weak to
support so triumphant a language. And whereas he seemeth to be offended
with paradoxes, let him thank the Schoolmen, whose senseless writings
have made the greatest number of important truths seem paradox.

(_c_) This argument that followeth is no better. “To resolve,” saith he,
“implies a man’s dominion over his actions, and his actual determination
of himself,” &c.

If he understand what it is _to resolve_, he knows that it signifies no
more than after deliberation _to will_. He thinks, therefore, _to will_
is to have dominion over his own actions, and actually to determine his
own will. But no man can determine his own will, for the will is
appetite; nor can a man more determine his will than any other appetite,
that is, more than he can determine when he shall be hungry and when
not. When a man is hungry, it is in his choice to eat or not eat; this
is the liberty of the man; but to be hungry or not hungry, which is that
which I hold to proceed from necessity, is not in his choice. Besides
these words, “dominion over his own actions,” and “determination of
himself,” so far as they are significant, make against him. For over
whatsoever things there is dominion, those things are not free, and
therefore a man’s actions are not free; and if a man determine himself,
the question will still remain, what determined him to determine himself
in that manner.

(_d_) “I have perused this treatise, weighed T. H.’s answers, considered
his reasons,” &c.

This and that which followeth, is talking to himself at random, till he
come to allege that which he calleth an old rule, which is this: (_e_)
“Whatsoever is, when it is, is necessarily so as it is. This is no
absolute necessity, but only upon supposition that a man hath determined
his own liberty,” &c.

If the bishop think that I hold no other necessity than that which is
expressed in that old foolish rule, he neither understandeth me, nor
what the word _necessary_ signifieth. _Necessary_ is that which is
impossible to be otherwise, or that which cannot possibly otherwise come
to pass. Therefore _necessary_, _possible_, and _impossible_ have no
signification in reference to time past or time present, but only time
to come. His _necessary_, and his _in sensu composito_, signify nothing;
my _necessary_ is a necessary from all eternity; and yet not
inconsistent with true liberty, which doth not consist in determining
itself, but in doing what the will is determined unto. This “dominion
over itself,” and this _sensus compositus_, and this, “determining
itself,” and this, “necessarily is when it is,” are confused and empty
words.

(_f_) “If the chain of necessity be no stronger but that it may be
snapped so easily asunder, &c. by the signification of your lordship’s
desire, and my modest entreaty, then we may safely conclude that human
affairs,” &c.

Whether my Lord’s desire and the Bishop’s modest entreaty were enough to
produce a _will_ in me to write an answer to his treatise, without other
concurrent causes, I am not sure. Obedience to his Lordship did much,
and my civility to the Bishop did somewhat, and perhaps there were other
imaginations of mine own that contributed their part. But this I am sure
of, that altogether they were sufficient to frame my will thereto; and
whatsoever is sufficient to produce any thing, produceth it as
necessarily as the fire necessarily burneth the fuel that is cast into
it. And though the Bishop’s modest entreaty had been no part of the
cause of my yielding to it, yet certainly it would have been cause
enough to some civil man, to have requited me with fairer language than
he hath done throughout this reply.

                                NO. II.

_T. H._ And first I assure your Lordship, I find in it no new argument,
neither from Scripture nor from reason, that I have not often heard
before, which is as much as to say, that I am not surprised.

_J. D._ (_a_) “Though I be so unhappy that I can present no novelty to
T. H., yet I have this comfort, that if he be not surprised, then in
reason I may expect a more mature answer from him; and where he fails, I
may ascribe it to the weakness of his cause, not to want of preparation.
But in this cause I like Epictetus’s counsel well, that (_b_) the sheep
should not brag how much they have eaten, or what an excellent pasture
they do go in, but shew it in their lamb and wool. Opposite answers and
downright arguments advantage a cause. To tell what we have heard or
seen is to no purpose. When a respondent leaves many things untouched,
as if they were too hot for his fingers, and declines the weight of
other things, and alters the true state of the question, it is a shrewd
sign either that he hath not weighed all things maturely, or else that
he maintains a desperate cause.”

                 ANIMADVERSIONS UPON HIS REPLY NO. II.

(_a_) “Though I be so unhappy that I can present no novelty to T. H. yet
I have this comfort, that if he be not surprised, then in reason I may
expect a more mature answer from him,” &c.

Though I were not surprised, yet I do not see the reason for which he
saith he may expect a more mature answer from me; or any further answer
at all. For seeing I wrote this at his modest request, it is no modest
expectation to look for as many answers as he shall be pleased to exact.

(_b_) “The sheep should not brag how much they have eaten, but shew it
in their lamb and wool.”

It is no great bragging, to say I was not surprised; for whosoever
chanceth to read Suarez’s _Opuscula_, where he writeth of free-will and
of the concourse of God with man’s will, shall find the greatest part,
if not all, that the Bishop hath urged in this question. But that which
the Bishop hath said of the reasons and authorities which he saith in
his epistle do offer themselves to serve in this cause, and many other
passages of his book, I shall, I think, before I have done with him,
make appear to be very bragging, and nothing else. And though he say it
be Epictetus’s counsel, that sheep should shew what they eat in their
lamb and wool, it is not likely that Epictetus should take a metaphor
from lamb and wool; for it could not easily come into the mind of men
that were not acquainted with the paying of tithes. Or if it had, he
would have said lambs in the plural, as laymen use to speak. That which
follows of my leaving things untouched, and altering the state of the
question; I remember no such thing, unless he require that I should
answer, not to his arguments only, but also to his syllables.

                                NO. III.

_T. H._ The preface is a handsome one, but it appears even in that, that
he hath mistaken the question; for whereas he says thus, “if I be free
to write this discourse, I have obtained the cause,” I deny that to be
true. For it is not enough to his freedom of writing that he had not
written it, unless he would himself; if he will obtain the cause, he
must prove that, before he wrote it, it was not necessary he should
write it afterwards. It may be he thinks it all one to say, “I was free
to write it,” and “it was not necessary I should write it.” But I think
otherwise; for he is free to do a thing, that may do it if he have the
will to do it, and may forbear if he have the will to forbear. And yet
if there be a necessity that he shall have the will to do it, the action
is necessarily to follow; and if there be a necessity that he shall have
the will to forbear, the forbearing also will be necessary. The
question, therefore, is not whether a man be a free agent, that is to
say, whether he can write or forbear, speak or be silent, according to
his will; but whether the will to write, and the will to forbear, come
upon him according to his will, or according to any thing else in his
own power. I acknowledge this liberty, that I can do if I will: but to
say, I can will if I will, I take to be an absurd speech. Wherefore I
cannot grant him the cause upon this preface.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Tacitus speaks of a close kind of adversaries, which evermore
begin with a man’s praise. The crisis or the catastrophe of their
discourse is when they come to their _but_; as, he is a good natured
man, _but_ he hath a naughty quality; or, he is a wise man, _but_ he
hath committed one of the greatest follies; so here, ‘the preface is a
handsome one, but it appears even in this that he hath mistaken the
question.’ This is to give an inch, that one may take away an ell
without suspicion; to praise the handsomeness of the porch, that he may
gain credit to the vilifying of the house. Whether of us hath mistaken
the question, I refer to the judicious reader. (_a_) Thus much I will
maintain, that that is no true necessity, which he calls necessity; nor
that liberty, which he calls liberty; nor that the question, which he
makes the question.

“First for liberty, that which he calls liberty, is no true liberty.

“For the clearing whereof, it behoveth us to know the difference between
these three, _necessity_, _spontaneity_, and _liberty_.

“Necessity and spontaneity may sometimes meet together; so may
spontaneity and liberty; but real necessity and true liberty can never
meet together. Some things are necessary and not voluntary or
spontaneous; some things are both necessary and voluntary; some things
are voluntary and not free; some things are both voluntary and free; but
those things which are truly necessary can never be free, and those
things which are truly free can never be necessary. Necessity consists
in an antecedent determination to one; spontaneity consists in a
conformity of the appetite, either intellectual or sensitive, to the
object; true liberty consists in the elective power of the rational
will; that which is determined without my concurrence, may nevertheless
agree well enough with my fancy or desires, and obtain my subsequent
consent; but that which is determined without my concurrence or consent,
cannot be the object of mine election. I may like that which is
inevitably imposed upon me by another, but if it be inevitably imposed
upon me by extrinsical causes, it is both folly for me to deliberate,
and impossible for me to choose, whether I shall undergo it or not.
Reason is the root, the fountain, the original of true liberty, which
judgeth and representeth to the will, whether this or that be
convenient, whether this or that be more convenient. Judge then what a
pretty kind of liberty it is which is maintained by T. H., such a
liberty as is in little children before they have the use of reason,
before they can consult or deliberate of any thing. Is not this a
childish liberty; and such a liberty as is in brute beasts, as bees and
spiders, which do not learn their faculties as we do our trades, by
experience and consideration? This is a brutish liberty, such a liberty
as a bird hath to fly when her wings are clipped, or to use his own
comparison, such a liberty as a lame man, who hath lost the use of his
limbs, hath to walk. Is not this a ridiculous liberty? Lastly, (which is
worse than all these), such a liberty as a river hath to descend down
the channel. What! will he ascribe liberty to inanimate creatures also,
which have neither reason, nor spontaneity, nor so much as sensitive
appetite? Such is T. H.’s liberty.

(_b_) “His necessity is just such another, a necessity upon supposition,
arising from the concourse of all the causes, including the last dictate
of the understanding in reasonable creatures. The adequate cause and the
effect are together in time, and when all the concurrent causes are
determined, the effect is determined also, and is become so necessary
that it is actually in being; but there is a great difference between
determining, and being determined. If all the collateral causes
concurring to the production of an effect, were antecedently determined
what they must of necessity produce, and when they must produce it, then
there is no doubt but the effect is necessary. (_c_) But if these causes
did operate freely or contingently; if they might have suspended or
denied their concurrence, or have concurred after another manner, then
the effect was not truly and antecedently necessary, but either free or
contingent. This will be yet clearer by considering his own instance of
_casting ambs-ace_, though it partake more of contingency than of
freedom. Supposing the positure of the parties’ hand who did throw the
dice, supposing the figure of the table and of the dice themselves,
supposing the measure of force applied, and supposing all other things
which did concur to the production of that cast, to be the very same
they were, there is no doubt but in this case the cast is necessary. But
still this is but a necessity of supposition; for if all these
concurrent causes, or some of them, were contingent or free, then the
cast was not absolutely necessary. To begin with the caster, he might
have denied his concurrence, and not have cast at all; he might have
suspended his concurrence, and not have cast so soon; he might have
doubled or diminished his force in casting, if it had pleased him; he
might have thrown the dice into the other table. In all these cases what
becomes of his _ambs-ace_? The like uncertainties offer themselves for
the maker of the tables, and for the maker of the dice, and for the
keeper of the tables, and for the kind of wood, and I know not how many
other circumstances. In such a mass of contingencies, it is impossible
that the effect should be antecedently necessary. T. H. appeals to every
man’s experience. I am contented. Let every one reflect upon himself,
and he shall find no convincing, much less constraining reason, to
necessitate him to any one of these particular acts more than another,
but only his own will or arbitrary determination. So T. H.’s necessity
is no absolute, no antecedent, extrinsical necessity, but merely a
necessity upon supposition.

(_d_) “Thirdly, that which T. H. makes the question, is not the
question. ‘The question is not,’ saith he, ‘whether a man may write if
he will, and forbear if he will, but whether the will to write or the
will to forbear come upon him according to his will, or according to any
thing else in his own power.’ Here is a distinction without a
difference. If his will do not come upon him according to his will, then
he is not a free, nor yet so much as a voluntary agent, which is T. H.’s
liberty. Certainly all the freedom of the agent is from the freedom of
the will. If the will have no power over itself, the agent is no more
free than a staff in a man’s hand. Secondly, he makes but an empty show
of a power in the will, either to write or not to write. (_e_) If it be
precisely and inevitably determined in all occurrences whatsoever, what
a man shall will, and what he shall not will, what he shall write, and
what he shall not write, to what purpose is this power? God and nature
never made any thing in vain; but vain and frustraneous is that power
which never was and never shall be deduced into act. Either the agent is
determined before he acteth, what he shall will, and what he shall not
will, what he shall act, and what he shall not act, and then he is no
more free to act than he is to will; or else he is not determined, and
then there is no necessity. No effect can exceed the virtue of its
cause; if the action be free to write or to forbear, the power or
faculty to will or nill, must of necessity be more free. _Quod efficit
tale, illud magis est tale._ If the will be determined, the writing or
not writing is likewise determined, and then he should not say, ‘he may
write or he may forbear,’ but he must write or he must forbear. Thirdly,
this answer contradicts the sense of all the world, that the will of man
is determined without his will, or without any thing in his power. Why
do we ask men whether they will do such a thing or not? Why do we
represent reasons to them? Why do we pray them? Why do we entreat them?
Why do we blame them, if their will come not upon them according to
their will. _Wilt thou be made clean?_ said our Saviour to the paralytic
person (John v. 6); to what purpose, if his will was extrinsically
determined? Christ complains, (Matth. xi. 17): _We have piped unto you,
and ye have not danced._ How could they help it, if their wills were
determined without their wills to forbear? And (Matth. xxiii. 37): _I
would have gathered your children together as the hen gathereth her
chickens under her wings, but ye would not._ How easily might they
answer, according to T. H.’s doctrine, ‘Alas! blame not us; our wills
are not in our own power or disposition; if they were, we would
thankfully embrace so great a favour.’ Most truly said St. Austin, ‘Our
will should not be a will at all, if it were not in our power.’ (_f_)
This is the belief of all mankind, which we have not learned from our
tutors, but is imprinted in our hearts by nature; we need not turn over
any obscure books to find out this truth. The poets chaunt it in the
theatres, the shepherds in the mountains, the pastors teach it in their
churches, the doctors in the universities, the common people in the
markets, and all mankind in the whole world do assent unto it, except an
handful of men who have poisoned their intellectuals with paradoxical
principles. Fourthly, this necessity which T. H. hath devised, which is
grounded upon the necessitation of a man’s will without his will, is the
worst of all others, and is so far from lessening those difficulties and
absurdities which flow from the fatal destiny of the Stoics, that it
increaseth them, and rendereth them unanswerable. (_g_) No man blameth
fire for burning whole cities; no man taxeth poison for destroying men;
but those persons who apply them to such wicked ends. If the will of man
be not in his own disposition, he is no more a free agent than the fire
or the poison. Three things are required to make an act or omission
culpable. First, that it be in our power to perform it or forbear it;
secondly, that we be obliged to perform it, or forbear it, respectively;
thirdly, that we omit that which we ought to have done, or do that which
we ought to have omitted. (_h_) No man sins in doing those things which
he could not shun, or forbearing those things which never were in his
power. T. H. may say, that besides the power, men have also an appetite
to evil objects, which renders them culpable. It is true; but if this
appetite be determined by another, not by themselves, or if they have
not the use of reason to curb or restrain their appetites, they sin no
more than a stone descending downward, according to its natural
appetite, or the brute beasts who commit voluntary errors in following
their sensitive appetites, yet sin not.

(_i_) The question then is not whether a man be necessitated to will or
nill, yet free to act or forbear. But saving the ambiguous acception of
the word _free_, the question is plainly this, whether all agents, and
all events natural, civil, moral, (for we speak not now of the
conversion of a sinner, that concerns not this question), be
predetermined extrinsically and inevitably without their own concurrence
in the determination; so as all actions and events which either are or
shall be, cannot but be, nor can be otherwise, after any other manner,
or in any other place, time, number, measure, order, nor to any other
end, than they are. And all this in respect of the supreme cause, or a
concourse of extrinsical causes determining them to one.

(_k_) “So my preface remains yet unanswered. Either I was extrinsically
and inevitably predetermined to write this discourse, without any
concurrence of mine in the determination, and without any power in me to
change or oppose it, or I was not so predetermined. If I was, then I
ought not to be blamed, for no man is justly blamed for doing that which
never was in his power to shun. If I was not so predetermined, then mine
actions and my will to act, are neither compelled nor necessitated by
any extrinsical causes, but I elect and choose, either to write or to
forbear, according to mine own will and by mine own power. And when I
have resolved and elected, it is but a necessity of supposition, which
may and doth consist with true liberty, not a real antecedent necessity.
The two horns of this dilemma are so straight, that no mean can be
given, nor room to pass between them. And the two consequences are so
evident, that instead of answering he is forced to decline them.

                 ANIMADVERSIONS UPON HIS REPLY NO. III.

(_a_) “Thus much I will maintain, that this is no true necessity, which
he calleth necessity; nor that liberty which he calleth liberty; nor
that the question, which he makes the question,” &c. “For the clearing
whereof, it behoveth us to know the difference between these three,
_necessity_, _spontaneity_, and _liberty_.”

I did expect, that for the knowing of the difference between
_necessity_, _spontaneity_, and _liberty_, he would have set down their
definitions. For without these, their difference cannot possibly appear.
For how can a man know how things differ, unless he first know what they
are? which he offers not to shew. He tells us that _necessity_ and
_spontaneity_ may meet together, and _spontaneity_ and _liberty_; but
_necessity_ and _liberty_ never; and many other things impertinent to
the purpose. For which, because of the length, I refer the reader to the
place. I note only this, that _spontaneity_ is a word not used in common
English; and they that understand Latin, know it means no more than
_appetite_, or _will_, and is not found but in living creatures. And
seeing, he saith, that _necessity_ and _spontaneity_ may stand together,
I may say also, that _necessity_ and _will_ may stand together, and then
is not the will free, as he would have it, from necessitation. There are
many other things in that which followeth, which I had rather the reader
would consider in his own words, to which I refer him, than that I
should give him greater trouble in reciting them again. For I do not
fear it will be thought too hot for my fingers, to shew the vanity of
such words as these, _intellectual appetite_, _conformity of the
appetite to the object_, _rational will_, _elective power of the
rational will_; nor understand I how reason can be the root of true
liberty, if the Bishop, as he saith in the beginning, had the liberty to
write this discourse. I understand how objects, and the conveniences and
the inconveniences of them may be represented to a man, by the help of
his senses; but how reason representeth anything to the will, I
understand no more than the Bishop understands how there may be liberty
in children, in beasts, and inanimate creatures. For he seemeth to
wonder how children may be left at liberty; how beasts in prison may be
set at liberty; and how a river may have a free course; and saith,
“What! will he ascribe liberty to inanimate creatures, also?” And thus
he thinks he hath made it clear how _necessity_, _spontaneity_, and
_liberty_ differ from one another. If the reader find it so, I am
contented.

(_b_) “His necessity is just such another; a necessity upon supposition,
arising from the concourse of all the causes, including the last dictate
of the understanding in reasonable creatures,” &c.

The Bishop might easily have seen, that the necessity I hold, is the
same necessity that he denies; namely, a necessity of things future,
that is, an antecedent necessity derived from the very beginning of
time; and that I put necessity for an impossibility of not being, and
that impossibility as well as possibility are never truly said but of
the future. I know as well as he that the cause, when it is adequate, as
he calleth it, or entire, as I call it, is together in time with the
effect. But for all that, the necessity may be and is before the effect,
as much as any necessity can be. And though he call it a necessity of
supposition, it is no more so than all other necessity is. The fire
burneth necessarily; but not without supposition that there is fuel put
to it. And it burneth the fuel, when it is put to it, necessarily; but
it is by supposition, that the ordinary course of nature is not
hindered; for the fire burnt not the three children in the furnace.

(_c_) “But if these causes did operate freely or contingently, if they
might have suspended or denied their concurrence, or have concurred
after another manner, then the effect was not truly and antecedently
necessary, but either free or contingent.”

It seems by this he understands not what these words, _free_ and
_contingent_, mean. A little before, he wondered I should attribute
liberty to inanimate creatures, and now he puts causes amongst those
things that operate freely. By these causes it seems he understandeth
only men, whereas I shewed before that liberty is usually ascribed to
whatsoever agent is not hindered. And when a man doth any thing freely,
there be many other agents immediate, that concur to the effect he
intendeth, which work not freely, but necessarily; as when the man
moveth the sword _freely_, the sword woundeth necessarily, nor can
suspend or deny its concurrence; and consequently if the man move not
himself, the man cannot deny his concurrence. To which he cannot reply,
unless he say a man originally can move himself; for which he will be
able to find no authority of any that have but tasted of the knowledge
of motion. Then for _contingent_, he understandeth not what it meaneth.
For it is all one to say it is _contingent_, and simply to say _it is_;
saving that when they say simply _it is_, they consider not how or by
what means; but in saying it is _contingent_, they tell us they know not
whether necessarily or not. But the Bishop thinking contingent to be
that which is not necessary, instead of arguing against our knowledge of
the necessity of things to come, argueth against the necessity itself.
Again, he supposeth that free and contingent causes might have suspended
or denied their concurrence. From which it followeth, that free causes,
and contingent causes, are not causes of themselves, but concurrent with
other causes, and therefore can produce nothing but as they are guided
by those causes with which they concur. For it is strange he should say,
they might have concurred after another manner; for I conceive not how,
when this runneth one way, and that another, that they can be said to
concur, that is, run together. And this his concurrence of causes
contingent, maketh, he saith, the cast of _ambs-ace_ not to have been
absolutely necessary. Which cannot be conceived, unless it had hindered
it; and then it had made some other cast necessary, perhaps _deux-ace_,
which serveth me as well. For that which he saith of suspending his
concurrence, of casting sooner or later, of altering the caster’s force,
and the like accidents, serve not to take away the necessity of
_ambs-ace_, otherwise than by making a necessity of _deux-ace_, or other
cast that shall be thrown.

(_d_) “Thirdly, that which T. H. makes the question, is not the
question,” &c.

He hath very little reason to say this. He requested me to tell him my
opinion in writing concerning free-will. Which I did, and did let him
know a man was free, in those things that were in his power, to follow
his will; but that he was not free to will, that is, that his will did
not follow his will. Which I expressed in these words: “The question is,
whether the will to write, or the will to forbear, come upon a man
according to his will, or according to any thing else in his own power.”
He that cannot understand the difference between _free to do if he
will_, and _free to will_, is not fit, as I have said in the stating of
the question, to hear this controversy disputed, much less to be a
writer in it. His consequence, “if a man be not free to will, he is not
a free nor a voluntary agent,” and his saying, “the freedom of the agent
is from the freedom of the will,” is put here without proof; nor is
there any considerable proof of it through the whole book hereafter
offered. For why? He never before had heard, I believe, of any
distinction between free to do and free to will; which makes him also
say, “if the will have not power over itself, the agent is no more free,
than a staff in a man’s hand.” As if it were not freedom enough for a
man to do what he will, unless his will also have power over his will,
and that his will be not the power itself, but must have another power
within it to do all voluntary acts.

(_e_) “If it be precisely and inevitably determined in all occurrences
whatsoever, what a man shall will, and what he shall not will, and what
he shall write, and what he shall not write, to what purpose is this
power?” &c.

It is to this purpose, that all those things may be brought to pass,
which God hath from eternity predetermined. It is therefore to no
purpose here to say, that God and nature hath made nothing in vain. But
see what weak arguments he brings next, which, though answered in that
which is gone before, yet, if I answer not again, he will say they are
too hot for my fingers. One is: “If the agent be determined what he
shall will, and what he shall act, then he is no more free to act than
he is to will;” as if the will being necessitated, the doing of what we
will were not liberty. Another is: “If a man be free to act, he is much
more free to will; because _quod efficit tale, illud magis est tale_;”
as if he should say, “if I make him angry, then I am more angry; because
_quod efficit_,” &c. The third is: “If the will be determined, then the
writing is determined, and he ought not to say he _may_ write, but he
_must_ write.” It is true, it followeth that he must write, but it doth
not follow I ought to say he must write, unless he would have me say
more than I know, as himself doth often in this reply.

After his arguments come his difficult questions. “If the will of man be
determined without his will, or without any thing in his power, why do
we ask men whether they will do such a thing or not?” I answer, because
we desire to know, and cannot know but by their telling, nor then
neither, for the most part. “Why do we represent reasons to them? Why do
we pray them? Why do we entreat them?” I answer, because thereby we
think to make them have the will they have not. “Why do we blame them?”
I answer, because they please us not. I might ask him, whether blaming
be any thing else but saying the thing blamed is ill or imperfect? May
we not say a horse is lame, though his lameness came from necessity? or
that a man is a fool or a knave, if he be so, though he could not help
it? “To what purpose did our Saviour say to the paralytic person, _wilt
thou be made clean_, if his will were extrinsically determined?” I
answer, that it was not because he would know, for he knew it before;
but because he would draw from him a confession of his want. “_We have
piped unto you, and ye have not danced_; how could they help it?” I
answer they could not help it. “_I would have gathered your children as
the hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, but ye would not._ How
easily might they answer, according to T. H.’s doctrine, Alas! blame not
us, our wills are not in our own power?” I answer, they are to be blamed
though their wills be not in their own power. Is not good good, and evil
evil, though they be not in our power? and shall not I call them so? and
is not that praise and blame? But it seems the Bishop takes blame, not
for the dispraise of a thing, but for a pretext and colour of malice and
revenge against him he blameth. And where he says our wills are in our
power, he sees not that he speaks absurdly; for he ought to say, the
will is the power; and through ignorance detecteth the same fault in St.
Austin, who saith, “our will should not be a will at all, if it were not
in our power;” that is to say, if it were not in our will.

(_f_) “This is the belief of all mankind, which we have not learned from
our tutors, but is imprinted in our hearts by nature,” &c.

This piece of eloquence is used by Cicero in his defence of Milo, to
prove it lawful for a man to resist force with force, or to keep himself
from killing; which the Bishop, thinking himself able to make that which
proves one thing prove any thing, hath translated into English, and
brought into this place to prove free-will. It is true, very few have
learned from tutors, that a man is not free to will; nor do they find it
much in books. That they find in books, that which the poets chant in
their theatres and the shepherds in the mountains, that which the
pastors teach in the churches and the doctors in the universities, and
that which the common people in the markets, and all mankind in the
whole world do assent unto, is the same that I assent unto, namely, that
a man hath freedom to do if he will; but whether he hath freedom to
will, is a question which it seems neither the Bishop nor they ever
thought on.

(_g_) “No man blameth fire for burning cities, nor taxeth poison for
destroying men,” &c.

Here again he is upon his arguments from blame, which I have answered
before; and we do as much blame them as we do men. For we say fire hath
done hurt, and the poison hath killed a man, as well as we say the man
hath done unjustly; but we do not seek to be revenged of the fire and of
poison, because we cannot make them ask forgiveness, as we would make
men to do when they hurt us. So that the blaming of the one and the
other, that is, the declaring of the hurt or evil action done by them,
is the same in both; but the malice of man is only against man.

(_h_) “No man sins in doing those things which he could not shun.”

He may as well say, no man halts which cannot choose but halt; or
stumbles, that cannot choose but stumble. For what is sin, but halting
or stumbling in the way of God’s commandments?

(_i_) “The question then is not, whether a man be necessitated to will
or nill, yet free to act or forbear. But, saving the ambiguous
acceptions of the word _free_, the question is plainly this,” &c.

This question, which the Bishop stateth in this place, I have before set
down verbatim and allowed: and it is the same with mine, though he
perceive it not. But seeing I did nothing, but at his request set down
my opinion, there can be no other question between us in this
controversy, but whether my opinion be the truth or not.

(_k_) “So my preface remains yet unanswered. Either I was extrinsically
and inevitably predetermined to write this discourse,” &c.

That which he saith in the preface is, “that if he be not free to write
this discourse, he ought not to be blamed; but if he be free, he hath
obtained the cause.”

The first consequence I should have granted him, if he had written it
rationally and civilly; the latter I deny, and have shown that he ought
to have proved that a man is free to will. For that which he says, any
thing else whatsoever would think, if it knew it were moved, and did not
know what moved it. A wooden top that is lashed by the boys, and runs
about sometimes to one wall, sometimes to another, sometimes spinning,
sometimes hitting men on the shins, if it were sensible of its own
motion, would think it proceeded from its own will, unless it felt what
lashed it. And is a man any wiser, when he runs to one place for a
benefice, to another for a bargain, and troubles the world with writing
errors and requiring answers, because he thinks he doth it without other
cause than his own will, and seeth not what are the lashings that cause
his will?

                                NO. IV.

[Sidenote: 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 duade 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.

[Sidenote: 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.

[Sidenote: 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.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_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 wise men may do inconsiderate and indeliberate
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 fools, children, madmen, and
beasts, do deliberate and 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.”

            ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. VIII.

(_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,” &c.

It is very possible I may have mistaken him; for neither he nor I
understand him. If they be one, why did he without need bring in this
strange word, spontaneous? Or rather, why did the Schoolmen bring it in,
if not merely to shift off the difficulty of maintaining their tenet of
free-will?

(_b_) “Secondly, he saith I distinguish between free acts and voluntary
acts; but he saith, I confound them and make them the same.”

In his reply No. II, he saith, that for the clearing of the question, we
are to know the difference between these three, necessity, spontaneity,
and liberty; and because I thought he knew that it could not be cleared
without understanding what is will, I had reason to think that
spontaneity was his new word for will. And presently after, “some things
are necessary, and not voluntary or spontaneous; some things are both
necessary and voluntary.” These words, voluntary and spontaneous, so put
together, would make any man believe spontaneous were put as explicative
of voluntary; for it is no wonder in the eloquence of the Schoolmen.
Therefore, presently after, these words, “spontaneity consists in a
conformity of the appetite, either intellectual or sensitive,” signify
that spontaneity is a conformity or likeness of the appetite to the
object; which to me soundeth as if he had said, that the appetite is
like the object; which is as proper as if he had said, the hunger is
like the meat. If this be the bishop’s meaning, as it is the meaning of
the words, he is a very fine philosopher. But hereafter I will venture
no more to say his meaning is this or that, especially where he useth
terms of art.

(_c_) “Thirdly, he saith, I ascribe spontaneity only to fools, children,
madmen, and beasts. But I acknowledge spontaneity hath place in rational
men,” &c.

I resolve to have no more to do with spontaneity. But I desire the
reader to take notice, that the common people, on whose arbitration
dependeth the signification of words in common use, among the Latins and
Greeks did call all actions and motions whereof they did perceive no
cause, spontaneous and αυτοματα: I say, not those actions which had no
causes; for all actions have their causes; but those actions whose
causes they did not perceive. So that spontaneous, as a general name,
comprehended many actions and motions of inanimate creatures; as the
falling of heavy things downwards, which they thought spontaneous, and
that if they were not hindered, they would descend of their _own
accord_. It comprehended also all animal motion, as beginning from the
will or appetite; because the causes of the will and appetite being not
perceived, they supposed, as the Bishop doth, that they were the causes
of themselves. So that which in general is called spontaneous, being
applied to men and beasts in special, is called voluntary. Yet the will
and appetite, though the very same thing, use to be distinguished in
certain occasions. For in the public conversation of men, where they are
to judge of one another’s will, and of the regularity and irregularity
of one another’s actions, not every appetite, but the last is esteemed
in the public judgment for the will: nor every action proceeding from
appetite, but that only to which there had preceded or ought to have
preceded some deliberation. And this I say is so, when one man is to
judge of another’s will. For every man in himself knoweth that what he
desireth or hath an appetite to, the same he hath a will to, though his
will may be changed before he hath obtained his desire. The Bishop,
understanding nothing of this, might, if it had pleased him, have called
it jargon. But he had rather pick out of it some contradictions of
myself. And therefore saith:

(_d_) “Yet I have no reason to be offended at it, (meaning such
contradictions), for he dealeth no otherwise with me than he doth with
himself.”

It is a contradiction, he saith, that having said that “voluntary
presupposeth deliberation,” I say in another place, “that whatsoever
followeth the last appetite, is voluntary, and where there is but one
appetite, that is the last.” Not observing that _voluntary_ presupposeth
_deliberation_, when the judgment, whether the action be voluntary or
not, is not in the actor, but in the judge; who regardeth not the will
of the actor, where there is nothing to be accused in the action of
deliberate malice; yet knoweth that though there be but one appetite,
the same is truly will for the time, and the action, if it follow, a
voluntary action.

This also he saith is a contradiction, that having said, “no action of a
man can be said to be without deliberation, though never so sudden,” I
say afterward that “by spontaneity is meant inconsiderate proceeding.”

Again he observes not, that the action of a man that is not a child, in
public judgment how rash, inconsiderate, and sudden soever it be, it is
to be taken for deliberation; because it is supposed, he ought to have
considered and compared his intended action with the law; when,
nevertheless, that sudden and indeliberate action was truly voluntary.

Another contradiction which he finds is this, that having undertaken to
prove “that children before they have the use of reason do deliberate
and elect,” I say by and by after a “child may be so young as to do what
he doth without all deliberation.” I yet see no contradiction here; for
a child may be so young, as that the appetite thereof is its first
appetite, but afterward and often before it come to have the use of
reason, may elect one thing and refuse another, and consider the
consequences of what it is about to do. And why not as well as beasts,
which never have the use of reason; for they deliberate, as men do? For
though men and beasts do differ in many things very much, yet they
differ not in the nature of their deliberation. A man can reckon by
words of general signification, make propositions, and syllogisms, and
compute in numbers, magnitudes, proportions, and other things
computable; which being done by the advantage of language, and words of
general significations, a beast that hath not language cannot do, nor a
man that hath language, if he misplace the words, that are his counters.
From hence to the end of this number, he discourseth again of
spontaneity, and how it is in children, madmen, and beasts; which, as I
before resolved, I will not meddle with; let the reader think and judge
of it as he pleaseth.

                                NO. IX.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Secondly, (_a_) they who might have done, and may do, many
things which they leave undone; and they who leave undone many things
which they might do, are neither compelled nor necessitated to do what
they do, but have true liberty. But we might do many things which we do
not, and we do many things which we might leave undone, as is plain, (1
Kings iii. 11): _Because thou hast asked this thing, and hast not asked
for thyself long life, neither hast asked riches for thyself, nor hast
asked the life of thine enemies_ &c. God gave Solomon his choice. He
might have asked riches, but then he had not asked wisdom, which he did
ask. He did ask wisdom, but he might have asked riches, which yet he did
not ask. And (Acts v. 4): _After it was sold, was it not in thine own
power?_ It was in his own power to give it, and it was in his own power
to retain it. Yet if he did give it, he could not retain it; and if he
did retain it, he could not give it. Therefore we may do, what we do
not. And we do not, what we might do. That is, we have true liberty from
necessity.”

_T. H._ The second argument from Scripture consisteth in histories of
men that did one thing, when, if they would, they might have done
another. The places are two; one is in 1 Kings iii. 11, where the
history says, God was pleased that Solomon, who might, if he would, have
asked riches or revenge, did nevertheless ask wisdom at God’s hands. The
other is the words of St. Peter to Ananias, (Acts v. 4): _After it was
sold, was it not in thine own power?_

To which the answer is the same with that I answered to the former
places: that they prove that there is election, but do not disprove the
necessity which I maintain of what they so elect.

“We have had the very same answer twice before. It seemeth that he is
well-pleased with it, or else he would not draw it in again so suddenly
by head and shoulders to no purpose, if he did not conceive it to be a
panchreston, a salve for all sores, or _dictamnum_, sovereign dittany,
to make all his adversaries’ weapons to drop out of the wounds of his
cause, only by chewing it, without any application to the sore. I will
not waste the time to show any further, how the members of his
distinction do cross one another, and one take away another. To make
every election to be of one thing imposed by necessity, and of another
thing which is absolutely impossible, is to make election to be no
election at all. But I forbear to press that at present. If I may be
bold to use his own phrase, his answer looks quite another way from mine
argument. My second reason was this: ‘They who may do, and might have
done many things which they leave undone, and who leave undone many
things which they might do, are not necessitated, nor precisely and
antecedently determined to what they do.’

“But we might do many things which we do not, and we do many things
which we might leave undone, as appears evidently by the texts alleged.
Therefore we are not antecedently and precisely determined, nor
necessitated to do all things which we do. What is here of _election_ in
this argument? To what proposition, to what term doth T. H. apply his
answer? He neither affirms, nor denieth, nor distinguisheth of any thing
contained in my argument. Here I must be bold to call upon him for a
more pertinent answer.”

             ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. IX.

The Bishop, for the proving of free-will, had alleged this text:
_Because thou hast asked this thing, and hast not asked for thyself long
life_, &c. And another, (Acts v. 4): _After it was sold, was it not in
thine own power?_ Out of which he infers, there was no necessity that
Solomon should ask wisdom rather than long life, nor that Ananias should
tell a lie concerning the price for which he sold his land: and my
answer, that they prove election, but disprove not the necessity of
election, satisfieth him not; because, saith he, (_a_) “they who might
have done what they left undone, and left undone what they might have
done, are not necessitated.”

But how doth he know (understanding power properly taken) that Solomon
had a real power to ask long life? No doubt Solomon knew nothing to the
contrary; but yet it was possible that God might have hindered him. For
though God gave Solomon his choice, that is, the thing which he should
choose, it doth not follow, that he did not also give him the act of
election. And for the other text, where it is said, that the price of
the land was in Ananias’s power, the word _power_ signifieth no more
than the word right, that is, the right to do with his own what he
pleased, which is not a real and natural power, but a civil power made
by covenant. And therefore the former answer is sufficient, that though
such places are clear enough to prove election, they have no strength at
all to take away necessity.

                                 NO. X.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Thirdly, if there be no true liberty, but all things come to
pass by inevitable necessity, then what are all those interrogations,
and objurgations, and reprehensions, and expostulations, which we find
so frequently in holy Scriptures, (be it spoken with all due respect),
but feigned and hypocritical exaggerations? _Hast thou eaten of the
tree, whereof I commanded that thou shouldst not eat?_ (Gen. iii. 11.)
And (verse 13) he saith to Eve, _Why hast thou done this?_ And (Gen. iv.
6) to Cain, _Why art thou wroth, and why is thy countenance cast down?_
And, (Ezech. xviii. 31): _Why will ye die, O house of Israel?_ Doth God
command openly not to eat, and yet secretly by himself or by the second
causes necessitate him to eat? Doth he reprehend him for doing that,
which he hath antecedently determined that he must do? Doth he propose
things under impossible conditions? Or were not this plain mockery and
derision? Doth a loving master chide his servant because he doth not
come at his call, and yet knows that the poor servant is chained and
fettered, so as he cannot move, by the master’s own order, without the
servant’s default or consent? They who talk here of a twofold will of
God, _secret_ and _revealed_, and the one opposite to the other,
understand not what they say. These two wills concern several persons.
The secret will of God, is what he will do himself; the revealed will of
God, is what he would have us to do; it may be the secret will of God to
take away the life of the father, yet it is God’s revealed will that his
son should wish his life and pray for his life. Here is no
contradiction, where the agents are distinct. But for the same person to
command one thing, and yet to necessitate him that is commanded to do
another thing; to chide a man for doing that, which he hath determined
inevitably and irresistibly that he must do; this were (I am afraid to
utter what they are not afraid to assert) the highest dissimulation.
God’s chiding proves man’s liberty.”

_T. H._ To the third and fifth arguments, I shall make but one answer.

_J. D._ (_a_) “Certainly distinct arguments, as the third and fifth are,
the one drawn from the truth of God, the other from the justice of God,
the one from his objurgations and reprehensions, the other from his
judgments after life, did require distinct answers. But the plain truth
is, that neither here, nor in his answer to the fifth argument, nor in
this whole treatise, is there one word of solution or satisfaction to
this argument, or to any part of it. All that looks like an answer is
contained, No. XII: ‘That which he does is made just by his doing; just,
I say, in him, not always just in us by the example; for a man that
shall command a thing openly, and plot secretly the hinderance of the
same, if he punish him whom he commanded so for not doing it, is
unjust.’ (_b_) I dare not insist upon it, I hope his meaning is not so
bad as the words intimate and as I apprehend, that is, to impute
falsehood to Him that is truth itself, and to justify feigning and
dissimulation in God, as he doth tyranny, by the infiniteness of his
power and the absoluteness of his dominion. And therefore, by his leave,
I must once again tender him a new summons for a full and clear answer
to this argument also. He tells us, that he was not surprised. Whether
he were or not, is more than I know. But this I see plainly, that either
he is not provided, or that his cause admits no choice of answers. The
Jews dealt ingeniously, when they met with a difficult knot which they
could not untie, to put it upon Elias: _Elias will answer it when he
comes_.

             ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. X.

The Bishop argued thus: “Thirdly, if there be no true liberty, but all
things come to pass by inevitable necessity, then what are those
interrogations we find so frequently in holy Scriptures, (be it spoken
with all due respect), but feigned and hypocritical exaggerations?” Here
putting together two repugnant suppositions, either craftily or (be it
spoken with all due respect) ignorantly, he would have men believe,
because I hold necessity, that I deny liberty, I hold as much that there
is true liberty as he doth, and more, for I hold it as from necessity,
and that there must of necessity be liberty; but he holds it not from
necessity, and so makes it possible there may be none. His
expostulations were, first, _Hast thou eaten of the tree whereof I
commanded thee that thou shouldst not eat?_ Secondly, _Why hast thou
done this?_ Thirdly, _Why art thou wroth, and why is thy countenance
cast down?_ Fourthly, _Why will ye die, O house of Israel?_ These
arguments requiring the same answer which some other do, I thought fit
to remit them to their fellows. But the Bishop will not allow me that.
For he saith,

(_a_) “Certainly, distinct arguments, as the third and fifth are, &c.
did require distinct answers.”

I am therefore to give an account of the meaning of the aforesaid
objurgations and expostulations; not of the end for which God said,
_Hast thou eaten of the tree, &c._, but how those words may be taken
without repugnance to the doctrine of necessity. These words, _Hast thou
eaten of the tree whereof I commanded that thou shouldst not eat_,
convince Adam that, notwithstanding God had placed in the garden a means
to keep him perpetually from dying in case he should accommodate his
will to obedience of God’s commandment concerning the tree of knowledge
of good and evil, yet Adam was not so much master of his own will as to
do it. Whereby is signified, that a mortal man, though invited by the
promise of immortality, cannot govern his own will, though his will
govern his actions; which dependence of the actions on the will, is that
which properly and truly is called _liberty_. And the like may be said
of the words to Eve, _Why hast thou done this?_ and of those to Cain,
_Why art thou wroth? &c._ and to Israel, _Why will ye die, O house of
Israel?_ But the Bishop here will say _die_ signifieth not _die_, but
live eternally in torments; for by such interpretations any man may
answer anything. And whereas he asketh, “Doth God reprehend him for
doing that which he hath antecedently determined him that he must do?” I
answer, no; but he convinceth and instructeth him, that though
immortality was so easy to obtain, as it might be had for the abstinence
from the fruit of one only tree, yet he could not obtain it but by
pardon, and by the sacrifice of Jesus Christ: nor is there here any
punishment, but only a reducing of Adam and Eve to their original
mortality, where death was no punishment but a gift of God. In which
mortality he lived near a thousand years, and had a numerous issue, and
lived without misery, and I believe shall at the resurrection obtain the
immortality which then he lost. Nor in all this is there any plotting
secretly, or any mockery or derision, which the Bishop would make men
believe there is. And whereas he saith, that “they who talk here of a
twofold will of God, secret and revealed, and the one opposite to the
other, understand not what they say:” the Protestant doctors, both of
our and other Churches, did use to distinguish between the secret and
revealed will of God; the former they called _voluntas bene placiti_,
which signifieth absolutely his will, the other _voluntas signi_, that
is, the signification of his will, in the same sense that I call the one
his _will_, the other his _commandment_, which may sometimes differ. For
God’s commandment to Abraham was, that he should sacrifice Isaac, but
his will was, that he should not do it. God’s denunciation to Nineveh
was, that it should be destroyed within forty days, but his will was,
that it should not.

(_b_) “I dare not insist upon it, I hope his meaning is not so bad, as
the words intimate, and as I apprehend; that is, to impute falsehood to
Him that is truth itself,” &c.

What damned rhetoric and subtle calumny is this? God, I said, might
command a thing openly, and yet hinder the doing of it, without
injustice; but if a man should command a thing to be done, and then plot
secretly the hinderance of the same, and punish for the not doing it, it
were injustice. This it is which the Bishop apprehends as an imputation
of falsehood to God Almighty. And perhaps if the death of a sinner were,
as he thinks, an eternal life in extreme misery, a man might as far as
Job hath done, expostulate with God Almighty; not accusing him of
injustice, because whatsoever he doth is therefore just because done by
him; but of little tenderness and love to mankind. And this
expostulation will be equally just or unjust, whether the necessity of
all things be granted or denied. For it is manifest that God could have
made man impeccable, and can now preserve him from sin, or forgive him
if he please; and therefore, if he please not, the expostulation is as
reasonable in the cases of _liberty_ as of _necessity_.

                                NO. XI.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Fourthly, if either the decree of God, or the foreknowledge of
God, or the influence of the stars, or the concatenation of causes, or
the physical or moral efficacy of objects, or the last dictate of the
understanding, do take away true liberty, then Adam before his fall had
no true liberty. For he was subjected to the same decrees, the same
prescience, the same constellations, the same causes, the same objects,
the same dictates of the understanding. But, _quicquid ostendes mihi
sic, incredulus odi_; the greatest opposers of our liberty, are as
earnest maintainers of the liberty of Adam. Therefore none of these
supposed impediments take away true liberty.”

_T. H._ The fourth argument is to this effect: “If the decree of God, or
his foreknowledge, or the influence of the stars, or the concatenation
of causes, or the physical or moral efficacy of causes, or the last
dictate of the understanding, or whatsoever it be, do take away true
liberty, then Adam before his fall had no true liberty. _Quicquid
ostendes mihi sic, incredulus odi._” That which I say necessitateth and
determineth every action, (that he may no longer doubt of my meaning),
is the sum of all those things, which being now existent, conduce and
concur to the production of that action hereafter, whereof if any one
thing now were wanting, the effect could not be produced. This concourse
of causes, whereof every one is determined to be such as it is by a like
concourse of former causes, may well be called (in respect they were all
set and ordered by the eternal cause of all things, God Almighty) the
decree of God.

But that the foreknowledge of God should be a cause of any thing, cannot
be truly said; seeing foreknowledge is knowledge, and knowledge
dependeth on the existence of the things known, and not they on it.

The influence of the stars is but a small part of the whole cause,
consisting of the concourse of all agents.

Nor doth the concourse of all causes make one simple chain or
concatenation, but an innumerable number of chains joined together, not
in all parts, but in the first link, God Almighty; and consequently the
whole cause of an event does not always depend upon one single chain,
but on many together.

Natural efficacy of objects does determine voluntary agents, and
necessitates the will, and consequently the action; but for moral
efficacy, I understand not what he means by it. The last dictate of the
judgment concerning the good or bad that may follow on any action, is
not properly the whole cause, but the last part of it; and yet may be
said to produce the effect necessarily, in such manner as the last
feather may be said to break an horse’s back, when there were so many
laid on before as there wanted but that to do it.

Now for his argument, that if the concourse of all the causes
necessitate the effect, that then it follows, Adam had no true liberty.
I deny the consequence; for I make not only the effect, but also the
election of that particular effect to be necessary, inasmuch as the will
itself, and each propension of a man during his deliberation, is as much
necessitated, and depends on a sufficient cause, as any thing else
whatsoever. As for example, it is no more necessary that fire should
burn, than that a man, or other creature, whose limbs be moved by fancy,
should have election, that is, liberty to do what he has a fancy to,
though it be not in his will or power to choose his fancy, or choose his
election or will.

This doctrine, because he says he hates, I doubt had better been
suppressed; as it should have been, if both your Lordship and he had not
pressed me to an answer.

_J. D._ (_a_) “This argument was sent forth only as an espy to make a
more full discovery, what were the true grounds of T. H.’s supposed
necessity. Which errand being done, and the foundation whereupon he
builds being found out, which is, as I called it, a concatenation of
causes, and, as he calls it, a concourse of necessary causes; it would
now be a superfluous and impertinent work in me to undertake the
refutation of all those other opinions, which he doth not undertake to
defend. And therefore I shall waive them at the present, with these
short animadversions.

(_b_) “Concerning the eternal decree of God, he confounds the decree
itself with the execution of his decree. And concerning the
foreknowledge of God, he confounds that speculative knowledge, which is
called _the knowledge of vision_, (which doth not produce the
intellective objects, no more than the sensitive vision doth produce the
sensible objects), with that other knowledge of God, which is called the
_knowledge of approbation_, or _a practical knowledge_, that is,
knowledge joined with an act of the will, of which divines do truly say,
that it is the cause of things, as the knowledge of the artist is the
cause of his work. John i.: _God made all things by his word_; that is,
by his wisdom. Concerning the influence of the stars, I wish he had
expressed himself more clearly. For as I do willingly grant, that those
heavenly bodies do act upon these sublunary things, not only by their
motion and light, but also by an occult virtue, which we call influence,
as we see by manifold experience in the loadstone and shell-fish, &c.:
so if he intend that by these influences they do naturally or physically
determine the will, or have any direct dominion over human counsels,
either in whole or in part, either more or less, he is in an error.
Concerning the concatenation of causes, whereas he makes not one chain,
but an innumerable number of chains, (I hope he speaks hyperbolically,
and doth not intend that they are actually infinite), the difference is
not material whether one or many, so long as they are all joined
together, both in the first link, and likewise in the effect. It serves
to no end but to shew what a shadow of liberty T. H. doth fancy, or
rather what a dream of a shadow. As if one chain were not sufficient to
load poor man, but he must be clogged with innumerable chains. This is
just such another freedom as the Turkish galley-slaves do enjoy. But I
admire that T. H., who is so versed in this question, should here
confess that he understands not the difference between physical or
natural, and moral efficacy: and much more that he should affirm, that
outward objects do determine voluntary agents by a natural efficacy. No
object, no second agent, angel or devil, can determine the will of man
naturally, but God alone, in respect of his supreme dominion over all
things. Then the will is determined naturally, when God Almighty,
besides his general influence, whereupon all second causes do depend, as
well for their being as for their acting, doth moreover at some times,
when it pleases him in cases extraordinary, concur by a special
influence, and infuse something into the will, in the nature of an act,
or an habit, whereby the will is moved and excited, and applied to will
or choose this or that. Then the will is determined morally, when some
object is proposed to it with persuasive reasons and arguments to induce
it to will. Where the determination is natural, the liberty to suspend
its act is taken away from the will, but not so where the determination
is moral. In the former case, the will is determined extrinsically, in
the latter case intrinsically; the former produceth an absolute
necessity, the latter only a necessity of supposition. If the will do
not suspend, but assent, then the act is necessary; but because the will
may suspend, and not assent, therefore it is not absolutely necessary.
In the former case, the will is moved necessarily and determinately; in
the latter, freely and indeterminately. The former excitation is
immediate; the latter is mediate _mediante intellectu_, and requires the
help of the understanding. In a word, so great a difference there is
between natural and moral efficacy, as there is between his opinion and
mine in this question.

“There remains only the last dictate of the understanding, which he
maketh to be the last cause that concurreth to the determination of the
will, and to the necessary production of the act, ‘as the last feather
may be said to break an horse’s back, when there were so many laid on
before that there wanted but that to do it.’ I have shewed (No. VII.)
that the last dictate of the understanding is not always absolute in
itself, nor conclusive to the will; and when it is conclusive, yet it
produceth no antecedent nor extrinsical necessity. I shall only add one
thing more at present, that by making the last judgment of right reason
to be of no more weight than a single feather, he wrongs the
understanding as well as he doth the will; and endeavours to deprive the
will of its supreme power of application, and to deprive the
understanding of its supreme power of judicature and definition. Neither
corporeal agents and objects, nor yet the sensitive appetite itself,
being an inferior faculty and affixed to the organ of the body, have any
direct or immediate dominion or command over the rational will. It is
without the sphere of their activity. All the access which they have
unto the will, is by the means of the understanding, sometimes clear and
sometimes disturbed, and of reason, either right or misinformed. Without
the help of the understanding, all his second causes were not able of
themselves to load the horse’s back with so much weight as the least of
all his feathers doth amount unto. But we shall meet with his horseload
of feathers again, No. XXIII.

“These things being thus briefly touched, he proceeds to his answer. My
argument was this: if any of these or all these causes formerly recited,
do take away true liberty, (that is, still intended from necessity),
then Adam before his fall had no true liberty.

“But Adam before his fall had true liberty.

“He mis-recites the argument, and denies the consequence, which is so
clearly proved, that no man living can doubt of it. Because Adam was
subjected to all the same causes as well as we, the same decree, the
same prescience, the same influences, the same concourse of causes, the
same efficacy of objects, the same dictates of reason. But it is only a
mistake; for it appears plainly by his following discourse, that he
intended to deny, not the consequence, but the assumption. For he makes
Adam to have had no liberty from necessity before his fall, yea, he
proceeds so far as to affirm that all human wills, his and ours, and
each propension of our wills, even during our deliberation, are as much
necessitated as anything else whatsoever; that we have no more power to
forbear those actions which we do, than the fire hath power not to burn.
Though I honour T. H. for his person and for his learning, yet I must
confess ingenuously, I hate this doctrine from my heart. And I believe
both I have reason so to do, and all others who shall seriously ponder
the horrid consequences which flow from it. It destroys liberty, and
dishonours the nature of man. It makes the second causes and outward
objects to be the rackets, and men to be but the tennis-balls of
destiny. It makes the first cause, that is, God Almighty, to be the
introducer of all evil and sin into the world, as much as man, yea, more
than man, by as much as the motion of the watch is more from the
artificer, who did make it and wind it up, than either from the spring,
or the wheels, or the thread, if God, by his special influence into the
second causes, did necessitate them to operate as they did. And if they,
being thus determined, did necessitate Adam inevitably, irresistibly,
not by an accidental, but by an essential subordination of causes to
whatsoever he did, then one of these two absurdities must needs follow:
either that Adam did not sin, and that there is no such thing as sin in
the world, because it proceeds naturally, necessarily, and essentially
from God; or that God is more guilty of it, and more the cause of evil
than man, because man is extrinsically, inevitably determined, but so is
not God. And in causes essentially subordinate, the cause of the cause
is always the cause of the effect. What tyrant did ever impose laws that
were impossible for those to keep, upon whom they were imposed, and
punish them for breaking those laws, which he himself had necessitated
them to break, which it was no more in their power not to break, than it
is in the power of the fire not to burn? Excuse me if I hate this
doctrine with a perfect hatred, which is so dishonourable both to God
and man; which makes men to blaspheme of necessity, to steal of
necessity, to be hanged of necessity, and to be damned of necessity. And
therefore I must say and say again, _quicquid ostendes mihi sic,
incredulus odi_. It were better to be an atheist, to believe no God; or
to be a Manichee, to believe two Gods, a God of good and a God of evil;
or with the heathens, to believe thirty thousand Gods: than thus to
charge the true God to be the proper cause and the true author of all
the sins and evils which are in the world.”

             ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XI.

(_a_) “This argument was sent forth only as an espy, to make a more full
discovery, what were the true grounds of T. H.’s supposed necessity.”

The argument which he sendeth forth as an espy, is this: “If either the
decree of God, or the foreknowledge of God, or the influence of the
stars, or the concatenation (which he says falsely I call a concourse)
of causes, of the physical or moral efficacy of objects, or the last
dictate of the understanding, do take away true liberty, then Adam
before his fall had no true liberty.” In answer whereunto I said, that
all the things now existent were necessary to the production of the
effect to come; that the _foreknowledge_ of God causeth nothing, though
the _will_ do; that the influence of the stars is but a small part of
that cause which maketh the necessity; and that this consequence, “if
the concourse of all the causes necessitate the effect, then Adam had no
true liberty,” was false. But in his words, if these do take away true
liberty, then Adam before his fall had no true liberty, the consequence
is good; but then I deny that necessity takes away liberty; the reason
whereof, which is this, _liberty is to choose what we will, not to
choose our will_, no inculcation is sufficient to make the Bishop take
notice of, notwithstanding he be otherwhere so witty, and here so
crafty, as to send out arguments for spies. The cause why I denied the
consequence was, that I thought the force thereof consisted in this,
that necessity in the Bishop’s opinion destroyed liberty.

(_b_) “Concerning the eternal decree of God,” &c.

Here begins his reply. From which if we take these words; “knowledge of
approbation;” “practical knowledge;” “heavenly bodies act upon sublunary
things, not only by their motion, but also by an occult virtue, which we
call influence;” “moral efficacy;” “general influence;” “special
influence;” “infuse something into the will;” “the will is moved;” “the
will is induced to will;” “the will suspends its own act;” which are all
nonsense, unworthy of a man, nay, and if a beast could speak, unworthy
of a beast, and can befal no creature whose nature is not depraved by
doctrine; nothing at all remaineth to be answered. Perhaps the word,
_occult virtue_, is not to be taxed as unintelligible. But then I may
tax therein the want of ingenuity in him that had rather say, that
heavenly bodies _do work by an occult virtue_, than that they _work he
knoweth not how_; which he would not confess, but endeavours to make
_occult_ be taken for a _cause_. The rest of this reply is one of those
consequences, which I have answered in the beginning, where I compare
the inconveniences of both opinions, that is, “that either Adam did not
sin, or his sin proceeded necessarily from God;” which is no stronger a
consequence than if out of this, “that a man is lame necessarily,” one
should infer, that _either he is not lame_, or that _his lameness
proceeded necessarily from the will of God_. To the end of this number
there is nothing more of argument. The place is filled up with wondering
and railing.

                                NO. XII.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Fifthly, if there be no liberty, there shall be no day of doom,
no last judgment, no rewards nor punishments after death. A man can
never make himself a criminal, if he be not left at liberty to commit a
crime. No man can be justly punished for doing that which was not in his
power to shun. To take away liberty hazards heaven, but undoubtedly it
leaves no hell.”

_T. H._ The arguments of greatest consequence are the third and fifth,
and fall both into one: namely, if there be a necessity of all events,
that it will follow that praise and reprehension, reward and punishment,
are all vain and unjust: and that if God should openly forbid, and
secretly necessitate the same action, punishing men for what they could
not avoid, there would be no belief among them of heaven or hell.

To oppose hereunto, I must borrow an answer from St. Paul (Rom. ix.),
from the eleventh verse of the chapter to the eighteenth, is laid down
the very same objection in these words: _When they_ (meaning Esau and
Jacob) _were yet unborn, and had done neither good nor evil, that the
purpose of God according to election, not by works, but by him that
calleth, might remain firm, it was said to her_ (viz. to Rebecca) _that
the elder shall serve the younger. And what then shall we say, is there
injustice with God? God forbid. It is not therefore in him that willeth,
nor in him that runneth, but in God that showeth mercy. For the
Scripture saith to Pharaoh, I have stirred thee up, that I may show my
power in thee, and that my name may be set forth in all the earth.
Therefore whom God willeth he hath mercy on, and whom he willeth he
hardeneth._ Thus, you see, the case put by St. Paul is the same with
that of J. D., and the same objection in these words following (verse
19): _Thou wilt ask me then, why will God yet complain; for who hath
resisted his will?_ To this therefore the apostle answers, not by
denying it was God’s will, or that the decree of God concerning Esau was
not before he had sinned, or that Esau was not necessitated to do what
he did; but thus (verse 20, 21): _Who art thou, O man, that
interrogatest God? Shall the work say to the workman, why hast thou made
me thus? Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same stuff to
make one vessel to honour, another to dishonour?_ According therefore to
this answer of St. Paul, I answer J. D.’s objection, and say, the power
of God alone, without other help, is sufficient justification of any
action he doth. That which men make among themselves here by pacts and
covenants, and call by the name of justice, and according whereunto men
are counted and termed rightly just and unjust, is not that by which God
Almighty’s actions are to be measured or called just, no more than his
counsels are to be measured by human wisdom. That which he does is made
just by his doing; just I say in him, not always just in us by the
example; for a man that shall command a thing openly, and plot secretly
the hindrance of the same, if he punish him he so commanded for not
doing it, is unjust. So also his counsels, they be therefore not in
vain, because they be his, whether we see the use of them or not. When
God afflicted Job, he did object no sin to him, but justified that
afflicting him by telling him of his power. _Hast thou_ (says God) _an
arm like mine? Where wast thou, when I laid the foundations of the
earth?_ and the like. So our Saviour, concerning the man that was born
blind, said, it was not for his sin, nor his parents’ sin, but that the
power of God might be shown in him. Beasts are subject to death and
torment, yet they cannot sin. It was God’s will it should be so. Power
irresistible justified all actions really and properly, in whomsoever it
be found. Less power does not. And because such power is in God only, he
must needs be just in all his actions. And we, that not comprehending
his counsels, call him to the bar, commit injustice in it.

I am not ignorant of the usual reply to this answer, by distinguishing
between will and permission. As, that God Almighty does indeed permit
sin sometimes, and that he also foreknoweth that the sin he permitteth
shall be committed; but does not will it, nor necessitate it. I know
also they distinguish the action from the sin of the action, saying, God
Almighty doth indeed cause the action, whatsoever action it be, but not
the sinfulness or irregularity of it, that is, the discordance between
the action and the law. Such distinctions as these dazzle my
understanding. I find no difference between the will to have a thing
done, and the permission to do it, when he that permitteth it can hinder
it, and knows it will be done unless he hinder it. Nor find I any
difference between an action that is against the law, and the sin of
that action. As for example, between the killing of Uriah, and the sin
of David in killing Uriah. Nor when one is cause both of the action and
of the law, how another can be cause of the disagreement between them,
no more than how one man making a longer and shorter garment, another
can make the inequality that is between them. This I know, God cannot
sin, because his doing a thing makes it just, and consequently no sin:
and because whatsoever can sin is subject to another’s law, which God is
not. And therefore it is blasphemy to say, God can sin. But to say, that
God can so order the world as a sin may be necessarily caused thereby in
a man, I do not see how it is any dishonour to him. Howsoever, if such
or other distinctions can make it clear that St. Paul did not think
Esau’s or Pharaoh’s actions proceeded from the will and purpose of God,
or that proceeding from his will could not therefore without injustice
be blamed or punished, I will, as soon as I understand them, turn unto
J. D.’s opinion. For I now hold nothing in all this question between us,
but what seemeth to me not obscurely, but most expressly said in this
place by St. Paul. And thus much in answer to his places of Scripture.

_J. D._ T. H. thinks to kill two birds with one stone, and satisfy two
arguments with one answer, whereas in truth he satisfieth neither.
First, for my third reason. (_a_) Though all he say here were as true as
an oracle; though punishment were an act of dominion, not of justice in
God; yet this is no sufficient cause why God should deny his own act, or
why he should chide or expostulate with men, why they did that which he
himself did necessitate them to do, and whereof he was the actor more
than they, they being but as the stone, but he the hand that threw it.
Notwithstanding anything which is pleaded here, this stoical opinion
doth stick hypocrisy and dissimulation close to God, who is truth
itself.

“And to my fifth argument, which he changeth and relateth amiss, as by
comparing mine with his may appear, his chiefest answer is to oppose a
difficult place of St. Paul (Rom. ix. 11.) Hath he never heard, that to
propose a doubt is not to answer an argument: _nec bene respondet qui
litem lite resolvit_? But I will not pay him in his own coin. Wherefore
to this place alleged by him, I answer, the case is not the same. The
question moved there is, how God did keep his promise made to Abraham,
_to be the God of him and of his seed_, if the Jews who were the
legitimate progeny of Abraham were deserted. To which the apostle
answers (vers. 6, 7, 8), that that promise was not made to the carnal
seed of Abraham, that is, the Jews, but to his spiritual sons, which
were the heirs of his faith, that is, to the believing Christians; which
answer he explicateth, first by the allegory of Isaac and Ishmael, and
after in the place cited of Esau and Jacob. Yet neither does he speak
there so much of their persons as of their posterities. And though some
words may be accommodated to God’s predestination, which are there
uttered, yet it is not the scope of that text, to treat of the
reprobation of any man to hell fire. All the posterity of Esau were not
eternally reprobated, as holy Job and many others. But this question
which is now agitated between us, is quite of another nature, how a man
can be a criminal who doth nothing but that which he is extrinsically
necessitated to do, or how God in justice can punish a man with eternal
torments for doing that which it was never in his power to leave undone;
or why he who did imprint the motion in the heart of man, should punish
man, who did only receive the impression from him. So his answer _looks
another way_.

“But because he grounds so much upon this text, that if it can be
cleared he is ready to change his opinion, I will examine all those
passages which may seem to favour his cause. First, these words (ver.
11): _being not yet born, neither having done any good or evil_, upon
which the whole weight of his argument doth depend, have no reference at
all to those words (verse 13), _Jacob have I loved, and Esau have I
hated_; for those words were first uttered by the prophet Malachi, many
ages after Jacob and Esau were dead (Mal. i. 2, 3), and intended of the
posterity of Esau, who were not redeemed from captivity as the
Israelites were. But they are referred to those other words (verse 12),
_the elder shall serve the younger_, which indeed were spoken before
Jacob or Esau were born. (Gen. xxv. 23.) And though those words of
Malachi had been used of Jacob and Esau before they were born, yet it
had advantaged his cause nothing: for hatred in that text doth not
signify any reprobation to the flames of hell, much less the execution
of that decree, or the actual imposition of punishment, nor any act
contrary to love. God saw all that he had made, and it was very good.
Goodness itself cannot hate that which is good. But hatred there
signifies comparative hatred, or a less degree of love, or at the most a
negation of love. As (Gen. xxix. 31), _when the Lord saw that Leah was
hated_, we may not conclude thence that Jacob hated his wife; the
precedent verse doth fully expound the sense (verse 30): _Jacob loved
Rachel more than Leah_. So (Matth. vi. 24), _No man can serve two
masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other_. So (Luke
xiv. 26), _If any man hate not his father and mother, &c. he cannot be
my disciple_. St. Matthew (x. 37) tells us the sense of it: _He that
loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me_.

“Secondly, those words (ver. 15) _I will have mercy on whom I will have
mercy_, do prove no more but this, that the preferring of Jacob before
Esau, and of the Christians before the Jews, was not a debt from God
either to the one or to the other, but a work of mercy. And what of
this? All men confess that God’s mercies do exceed man’s deserts, but
God’s punishments do never exceed man’s misdeeds. As we see in the
parable of the labourers (Matth. xx. 13-15): _Friend, I do thee no
wrong. Did not I agree with thee for a penny? Is it not lawful for me to
do with mine own as I will? Is thy eye evil, because I am good?_ Acts of
mercy are free, but acts of justice are due.

“That which follows (verse 17) comes something nearer the cause. _The
Scripture saith unto Pharaoh, for this same purpose I have raised thee
up_, (that is, I have made thee a king, or I have preserved thee), _that
I might show my power in thee_. But this particle, _that_, doth not
always signify the main end of an action, but sometimes only a
consequent of it, as Matth. ii. 15: _He departed into Egypt_, that _it
might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, out of Egypt have I
called my son_. Without doubt Joseph’s aim or end of his journey was not
to fulfil prophecies, but to save the life of the child. Yet because the
fulfilling of the prophecy was a consequent of Joseph’s journey, he
saith, _that it might be fulfilled_. So here, _I have raised thee up,
that I might show my power_. Again, though it should be granted that
this particle _that_, did denote the intention of God to destroy Pharaoh
in the Red Sea, yet it was not the antecedent intention of God, which
evermore respects the good and benefit of the creature, but God’s
consequent intention upon the prevision of Pharaoh’s obstinacy, that
since he would not glorify God in obeying his word, he should glorify
God undergoing his judgments. Hitherto we find no eternal punishments,
nor no temporal punishment without just deserts.

“It follows, (ver. 18), _whom he will he hardeneth_. Indeed hardness of
heart is the greatest judgment that God lays upon a sinner in this life,
worse than all the plagues of Egypt. But how doth God harden the heart?
Not by a natural influence of any evil act or habit into the will, nor
by inducing the will with persuasive motives to obstinacy and rebellion
(James i. 13, 14): _For God tempteth no man, but every man is tempted
when he is drawn away of his own lust and enticed_. Then God is said to
harden the heart three ways; first, negatively, and not positively; not
by imparting wickedness, but by not imparting grace; as the sun
descending to the tropic of Capricorn, is said with us to be the cause
of winter, that is, not by imparting cold, but by not imparting heat. It
is an act of mercy in God to give his grace freely, but to detain it is
no act of injustice. So the apostle opposeth hardening to shewing of
mercy. To harden is as much as not to shew mercy.

“Secondly, God is said to harden the heart occasionally and not
causally, by doing good, (which incorrigible sinners make an occasion of
growing worse and worse), and doing evil; as a master by often
correcting of an untoward scholar, doth accidentally and occasionally
harden his heart, and render him more obdurate, insomuch as he grows
even to despise the rod. Or as an indulgent parent by his patience and
gentleness doth encourage an obstinate son to become more rebellious.
So, whether we look upon God’s frequent judgments upon Pharaoh, or God’s
iterated favours in removing and withdrawing those judgments upon
Pharaoh’s request, both of them in their several kinds were occasions of
hardening Pharaoh’s heart, the one making him more presumptuous, the
other more desperately rebellious. So that which was good in it was
God’s; that which was evil was Pharaoh’s. God gave the occasion, but
Pharaoh was the true cause of his own obduration. This is clearly
confirmed, Exodus viii. 15: _When Pharaoh saw that there was respite, he
hardened his heart_. And Exodus ix. 34: _When Pharaoh saw that the rain
and the hail and the thunders were ceased, he sinned yet more, and
hardened his heart, he and his servants_. So Psalm cv. 25: _He turned
their hearts, so that they hated his people, and dealt subtly with
them_. That is, God blessed the children of Israel, whereupon the
Egyptians did take occasion to hate them, as is plain, Exodus i. 7, 8,
9, 10. So God hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and Pharaoh hardened his own
heart. God hardened it by not shewing mercy to Pharaoh, as he did to
Nebuchadnezzar, who was as great a sinner as he, or God hardened it
occasionally; but still Pharaoh was the true cause of his own
obduration, by determining his own will to evil, and confirming himself
in his obstinacy. So are all presumptuous sinners, (Psalm xcv. 8):
_Harden not your hearts as in the provocation, or as in the day of
temptation in the wilderness_.

“Thirdly, God is said to harden the heart permissively, but not
operatively, nor effectively, as he who only lets loose a greyhound out
of the slip, is said to hound him at the hare. Will you see plainly what
St. Paul intends by hardening? Read Rom. ix. 22, 23: _What if God,
willing to shew his wrath and to make his power known_ (that is, by a
consequent will, which in order of nature follows the prevision of sin),
_endured with much long-suffering the vessels of wrath fitted to
destruction. And that he might make known the riches of his glory on the
vessels of mercy_, &c. There is much difference between _enduring_ and
_impelling_, or inciting the vessels of wrath. He saith of the vessels
of mercy, that _God prepared them unto glory_. But of the vessels of
wrath, he saith only that they were _fitted to destruction_, that is,
not by God, but by themselves. St. Paul saith, that God doth _endure the
vessels of wrath with much long-suffering_. T. H. saith, that God wills
and effects by the second causes all their actions good and bad, that he
necessitateth them, and determineth them irresistibly to do those acts
which he condemneth as evil, and for which he punisheth them. If _doing
willingly_, and _enduring_, if _much long-suffering_, and
_necessitating_, imply not a contrariety one to another, _reddat mihi
minam Diogenes_, let him that taught me logic, give me my money again.

“But T. H. saith, that this distinction between the _operative_ and
_permissive_ will of God, and that other between the action and the
irregularity, do dazzle his understanding. Though he can find no
difference between these two, yet others do; St. Paul himself did (Acts
xiii. 18): _About the time of forty years suffered he their manners in
the wilderness_. And (Acts xiv. 16): _Who in times past suffered all
nations to walk in their own ways._ T. H. would make suffering to be
inciting, their manners to be God’s manners, their ways to be God’s
ways. And (Acts xvii. 30): _The times of this ignorance God winked at_.
It was never heard that one was said to wink or connive at that which
was his own act. And (1 Cor. x. 13): _God is faithful, who will not
suffer you to be tempted above that you are able_. To tempt is the
devil’s act; therefore he is called the _tempter_. God tempts no man to
sin, but he suffers them to be tempted. And so suffers, that he could
hinder Satan, if he would. But by T. H.’s doctrine, to tempt to sin, and
to suffer one to be tempted to sin when it is in his power to hinder it,
is all one. And so he transforms God (I write it with horror) into the
devil, and makes tempting to be God’s own work, and the devil to be but
his instrument. And in that noted place, (Rom. ii. 4, 5): _Despisest
thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and long-suffering, not
knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance; but after
thy hardness and impenitent heart treasurest up unto thyself wrath
against the day of wrath, and revelation of the righteous judgment of
God?_ Here are as many convincing arguments in this one text against the
opinion of T. H. almost as there are words. Here we learn that God is
_rich in goodness_, and will not punish his creatures for that which is
his own act; secondly, that he _suffers_ and _forbears sinners long_,
and doth not snatch them away by sudden death as they deserve. Thirdly,
that the reason of God’s forbearance is to _bring men to repentance_.
Fourthly, that _hardness of heart and impenitency_ is not causally from
God, but from ourselves. Fifthly, that it is not the insufficient
proposal of the means of their conversion on God’s part, which is the
cause of men’s perdition, but their own contempt and despising of these
means. Sixthly, that punishment is not an act of absolute dominion, but
an act of righteous judgment, whereby God renders to every man according
to his own deeds, wrath to them and only to them who _treasure up wrath
unto themselves_, and eternal life to those who _continue patiently in
well-doing_. If they deserve such punishment who only neglect the
goodness and long-suffering of God, what do they who utterly deny it,
and make God’s doing and his suffering to be all one? I do beseech T. H.
to consider what a degree of wilfulness it is, out of one obscure text
wholly misunderstood to contradict the clear current of the whole
Scripture. Of the same mind with St. Paul was St. Peter, (1 Peter iii.
20): _The long-suffering of God waited once in the days of Noah_. And 2
Peter iii. 15: _Account that the long-suffering of the Lord is
salvation_. This is the name God gives himself, (Exod. xxxiv. 6): _The
Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering_, &c.

(_b_) “Yet I do acknowledge that which T. H. saith to be commonly true,
that he who doth permit any thing to be done, which it is in his power
to hinder, knowing that if he do not hinder it, it will be done, doth in
some sort will it. I say in some sort, that is, either by an antecedent
will, or by a consequent will, either by an operative will, or by a
permissive will, or he is willing to let it be done, but not willing to
do it. Sometimes an antecedent engagement doth cause a man to suffer
that to be done, which otherwise he would not suffer. So Darius suffered
Daniel to be cast into the lion’s den, to make good his rash decree; so
Herod suffered John Baptist to be beheaded, to make good his rash oath.
How much more may the immutable rule of justice in God, and his fidelity
in keeping his word, draw from him the punishment of obstinate sinners,
though antecedently he willeth their conversion? He loveth all his
creatures well, but his own justice better. Again, sometimes a man
suffereth that to be done, which he doth not will directly in itself,
but indirectly for some other end, or for the producing of some greater
good; as a man willeth that a putrid member be cut off from his body, to
save the life of the whole. Or as a judge, being desirous to save a
malefactor’s life, and having power to reprieve him, doth yet condemn
him for example’s sake, that by the death of one he may save the lives
of many. Marvel not then if God suffer some creatures to take such
courses as tend to their own ruin, so long as their sufferings do make
for the greater manifestation of his glory, and for the greater benefit
of his faithful servants. This is a most certain truth, that God would
not suffer evil to be in the world unless he knew how to draw good out
of evil. Yet this ought not to be understood, as if we made any priority
or posteriority of time in the acts of God, but only of nature. Nor do
we make the antecedent and consequent will to be contrary one to
another; because the one respects man pure and uncorrupted, the other
respects him as he is lapsed. The objects are the same, but considered
after a diverse manner. Nor yet do we make these wills to be distinct in
God; for they are the same with the divine essence, which is one. But
the distinction is in order to the objects or things willed. Nor,
lastly, do we make this permission to be a naked or a mere permission.
God causeth all good, permitteth all evil, disposeth all things, both
good and evil.

(_c_) “T. H. demands how God should be the cause of the action and yet
not be the cause of the irregularity of the action. I answer, because he
concurs to the doing of evil by a general, but not by a special
influence. As the earth gives nourishment to all kinds of plants, as
well to hemlock as to wheat; but the reason why the one yields food to
our sustenance, the other poison to our destruction, is not from the
general nourishment of the earth, but from the special quality of the
root. Even so the general power to act is from God. _In him we live, and
move, and have our being._ This is good. But the specification, and
determination of this general power to the doing of any evil, is from
ourselves, and proceeds from the free-will of man. This is bad. And to
speak properly, the free-will of man is not the efficient cause of sin,
as the root of the hemlock is of poison, sin having no true entity or
being in it, as poison hath; but rather the deficient cause. Now no
defect can flow from him who is the highest perfection. (_d_) Wherefore
T. H. is mightily mistaken, to make the particular and determinate act
of killing Uriah to be from God. The general power to act is from God,
but the specification of this general and good power to murder, or to
any particular evil, is not from God, but from the free-will of man. So
T. H. may see clearly if he will, how one may be the cause of the law,
and likewise of the action in some sort, that is, by general influence;
and yet another cause concurring, by special influence and determining
this general and good power, may make itself the true cause of the anomy
or the irregularity. And therefore he may keep his longer and shorter
garments for some other occasion. Certainly, they will not fit this
subject, unless he could make general and special influence to be all
one.

“But T. H. presseth yet further, that the case is the same, and the
objection used by the Jews, (verse 19): _Why doth he yet find fault; who
hath resisted his will?_ is the very same with my argument; and St.
Paul’s answer, (verse 20:) _O man, who art thou that repliest against
God? Shall the thing formed say unto him that formed it, why hast thou
made me thus? Hath not the potter power over his clay?_ &c., is the very
same with his answer in this place, drawn from the irresistible power
and absolute dominion of God, which justifieth all his actions. And that
the apostle in his answer doth not deny that it was God’s will, nor that
God’s decree was before Esau’s sin.

“To which I reply, first, that the case is not at all the same, but
quite different, as may appear by these particulars; first, those words,
_before they had done either good or evil_, are not, cannot be referred
to those other words, _Esau have I hated_. Secondly, if they could, yet
it is less than nothing, because before Esau had actually sinned, his
future sins were known to God. Thirdly, by the potter’s clay, here is
not to be understood the pure mass, but the corrupted mass of mankind.
Fourthly, the hating here mentioned is only a comparative hatred, that
is, a less degree of love. Fifthly, the hardening which St. Paul speaks
of, is not a positive, but a negative obduration, or a not imparting of
grace. Sixthly, St. Paul speaketh not of any positive reprobation to
eternal punishment, much less doth he speak of the actual inflicting of
punishment without sin, which is the question between us, and wherein T.
H. differs from all that I remember to have read, who do all acknowledge
that punishment is never actually inflicted but for sin. If the question
be put, why God doth good to one more than to another, or why God
imparteth more grace to one than to another, as it is there, the answer
is just and fit, because it is his pleasure, and it is sauciness in a
creature in this case to reply, (Matthew xx. 15): _May not God do what
he will with his own?_ No man doubteth but God imparteth grace beyond
man’s desert. (_e_) But if the case be put, why God doth punish one more
than another, or why he throws one into hell-fire, and not another,
which is the present case agitated between us; to say with T. H., that
it is because God is omnipotent, or because his power is irresistible,
or merely because it is his pleasure, is not only not warranted, but is
plainly condemned by St. Paul in this place. So many differences there
are between those two cases. It is not therefore against God that I
reply, but against T. H. I do not call my Creator to the bar, but my
fellow-creature; I ask no account of God’s counsels, but of man’s
presumptions. It is the mode of these times to father their own fancies
upon God, and when they cannot justify them by reason, to plead his
omnipotence, or to cry, _O altitudo_, that the ways of God are
unsearchable. If they may justify their drowsy dreams, because God’s
power and dominion is absolute; much more may we reject such
phantastical devices which are inconsistent with the truth and goodness
and justice of God, and make him to be a tyrant, who is the Father of
Mercies and the God of all consolation. The unsearchableness of God’s
ways should be a bridle to restrain presumption, and not a sanctuary for
spirits of error.

“Secondly, this objection contained ver. 19, to which the apostle
answers ver. 20, is not made in the person of Esau or Pharaoh, as T. H.
supposeth, but of the unbelieving Jews, who thought much at that grace
and favour which God was pleased to vouchsafe unto the Gentiles, to
acknowledge them for his people, which honour they would have
appropriated to the posterity of Abraham. And the apostle’s answer is
not only drawn from the sovereign dominion of God, to impart his grace
to whom he pleaseth, as hath been shewed already, but also from the
obstinacy and proper fault of the Jews, as appeareth verse 22: _What if
God, willing_ (that is, by a consequent will) _to shew his wrath, and to
make his power known, endureth with much long-suffering the vessels of
wrath fitted to destruction_. They acted, God endured; they were
tolerated by God, but fitted to destruction by themselves; for their
much wrong-doing, here is God’s _much long-suffering_. And more plainly,
verse 31, 32: _Israel hath not attained to the law of righteousness.
Wherefore? Because they sought it not by faith, but as it were by the
works of the law._ This reason is set down yet more emphatically in the
next chapter (Rom. x. 3): _They_ (that is, the Israelites) _being
ignorant of God’s righteousness_, (that is, by faith in Christ), _and
going about to establish their own righteousness_, (that is, by the
works of the law), _have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness
of God_. And yet most expressly (chap. xi. 20): _Because of unbelief
they were broken off, but thou standest by faith_. Neither was there any
precedent binding decree of God, to necessitate them to unbelief, and
consequently to punishment. It was in their own power by their
concurrence with God’s grace to prevent these judgments, and to recover
their former estate; verse 23: _If they_ (that is, the unbelieving Jews)
_abide not still in unbelief they shall be grafted in_. The crown and
the sword are immovable, (to use St. Anselm’s comparison), but it is we
that move and change places. Sometimes the Jews were under the crown,
and the Gentiles under the sword; sometimes the Jews under the sword,
and the Gentiles under the crown.

“Thirdly, though I confess that human pacts are not the measure of God’s
justice, but his justice is his own immutable will, whereby he is ready
to give every man that which is his own, as rewards to the good,
punishments to the bad; so nevertheless God may oblige himself freely to
his creature. He made the covenant of works with mankind in Adam; and
therefore he punisheth not man contrary to his own covenant, but for the
transgression of his duty. And divine justice is not measured by
omnipotence or by irresistible power, but by God’s will. God can do many
things according to his absolute power, which he doth not. He could
raise up children to Abraham of stones, but he never did so. It is a
rule in theology, that God cannot do anything which argues any
wickedness or imperfection: as God cannot deny himself (2 Timothy ii.
13); he cannot lie (Titus i. 2). These and the like are the fruits of
impotence, not of power. So God cannot destroy the righteous with the
wicked (Genesis xviii. 25.) He could not destroy Sodom whilst Lot was in
it, (Genesis xix. 22); not for want of dominion or power, but because it
was not agreeable to his justice, nor to that law which himself had
constituted. The apostle saith (Hebrews vi. 10), _God is not unrighteous
to forget your work_. As it is a good consequence to say, this is from
God, therefore it is righteous; so is this also, this thing is
unrighteous, therefore it cannot proceed from God. We see how all
creatures by instinct of nature do love their young, as the hen her
chickens; how they will expose themselves to death for them. And yet all
these are but shadows of that love which is in God towards his
creatures. How impious is it then to conceive, that God did create so
many millions of souls to be tormented eternally in hell, without any
fault of theirs except such as he himself did necessitate them unto,
merely to shew his dominion, and because his power is irresistible? The
same privilege which T. H. appropriates here to power absolutely
irresistible, a friend of his, in his book _De Cive_, cap. VI., ascribes
to power respectively irresistible, or to sovereign magistrates, whose
power he makes to be as absolute as a man’s power is over himself; not
to be limited by any thing, but only by their strength. The greatest
propugners of sovereign power think it enough for princes to challenge
an immunity from coercive power, but acknowledge that the law hath a
directive power over them. But T. H. will have no limits but their
strength. Whatsoever they do by power, they do justly.

“But, saith he, God objected no sin to Job, but justified his afflicting
him by his power. First, this is an argument from authority negatively,
that is to say, worth nothing. Secondly, the afflictions of Job were no
vindicatory punishments to take vengeance of his sins, (whereof we
dispute), but probatory chastisements to make trial of his graces.
Thirdly, Job was not so pure, but that God might justly have laid
greater punishments upon him, than those afflictions which he suffered.
Witness his impatience, even to the cursing of the day of his nativity
(Job iii. 3). Indeed God said to Job, (Job xxxviii. 4): _Where wast
thou, when I laid the foundations of the earth?_ that is, how canst thou
judge of the things that were done before thou wast born, or comprehend
the secret causes of my judgments? And (Job xl. 9): _Hast thou an arm
like God?_ As if he should say, why art thou impatient; dost thou think
thyself able to strive with God? But that God should punish Job without
desert, here is not a word.

“Concerning the blind man mentioned John ix, his blindness was rather a
blessing to him than a punishment, being the means to raise his soul
illuminated, and to bring him to see the face of God in Jesus Christ.
The sight of the body is common to us with ants and flies, but the sight
of the soul with the blessed angels. We read of some who have put out
their bodily eyes, because they thought they were an impediment to the
eye of the soul. Again, neither he nor his parents were innocent, being
conceived and born in sin and iniquity (Psalm li. 5). And in many things
we offend all (James iii. 2). But our Saviour’s meaning is evident by
the disciples’ question, John ix. 2. They had not so sinned, that he
should be born blind; or they were not more grievous sinners than other
men, to deserve an exemplary judgment more than they; but this corporal
blindness befel him principally by the extraordinary providence of God,
for the manifestation of his own glory in restoring him to his sight. So
his instance halts on both sides; neither was this a punishment, nor the
blind man free from sin. His third instance of the death and torments of
beasts, is of no more weight than the two former. The death of brute
beasts is not a punishment of sin, but a debt of nature. And though they
be often slaughtered for the use of man, yet there is a vast difference
between those light and momentary pangs, and the unsufferable and
endless pains of hell; between the mere depriving of a creature of
temporal life, and the subjecting of it to eternal death. I know the
philosophical speculations of some, who affirm, that entity is better
than non-entity, that it is better to be miserable and suffer the
torments of the damned, than to be annihilated and cease to be
altogether. This entity which they speak of, is a metaphysical entity
abstracted from the matter, which is better than non-entity, in respect
of some goodness, not moral nor natural, but transcendental, which
accompanies every being. But in the concrete it is far otherwise, where
that saying of our Saviour often takes place, (Matthew xxvi. 24): _Woe
unto that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed. It had been good for
that man, that he had not been born._ I add, that there is an analogical
justice and mercy due even to the brute beasts. _Thou shalt not muzzle
the mouth of the ox that treadeth out the corn._ And, _a just man is
merciful to his beast_.

(_f_) “But his greatest error is that which I touched before, to make
justice to be the proper result of power. Power doth not measure and
regulate justice, but justice measures and regulates power. The will of
God, and the eternal law which is in God himself, is properly the rule
and measure of justice. As all goodness, whether natural or moral, is a
participation of divine goodness, and all created rectitude is but a
participation of divine rectitude, so all laws are but participations of
the eternal law from whence they derive their power. The rule of justice
then is the same both in God and us: but it is in God, as in him that
doth regulate and measure; in us, as in those who are regulated and
measured. As the will of God is immutable, always willing what is just
and right and good; so his justice likewise is immutable. And that
individual action which is justly punished as sinful in us, cannot
possibly proceed from the special influence and determinative power of a
just cause. See then how grossly T. H. doth understand that old and true
principle, that the will of God is the rule of justice; as if by willing
things in themselves unjust, he did render them just by reason of his
absolute dominion and irresistible power, as fire doth assimilate other
things to itself, and convert them into the nature of fire. This were to
make the eternal law a Lesbian rule. Sin is defined to be that which is
done, or said, or thought, contrary to the eternal law. But by this
doctrine nothing is done, nor said, nor thought, contrary to the will of
God. St. Anselm said most truly, ‘then the will of man is good, and
just, and right, when he wills that which God would have him to will.’
But according to this doctrine, every man always wills that which God
would have him to will. If this be true, we need not pray, _Thy will be
done in earth as it is in heaven_. T. H. hath devised a new kind of
heaven upon earth. The worst is, it is an heaven without justice.
Justice is a constant and perpetual act of the will, to give every one
his own; but to inflict punishment for those things which the judge
himself did determine and necessitate to be done, is not to give every
one his own; right punitive justice is a relation of equality and
proportion between the demerit and the punishment. But supposing this
opinion of absolute and universal necessity, there is no demerit in the
world. We use to say, that right springs from law and fact; as in this
syllogism, every thief ought to be punished, there is the law; but such
an one is a thief, there is the fact; therefore he ought to be punished,
there is the right. But this opinion of T. H. grounds the right to be
punished, neither upon law, nor upon fact, but upon the irresistible
power of God. Yea, it overturneth, as much as in it lies, all law;
first, the eternal law, which is the ordination of divine wisdom, by
which all creatures are directed to that end which is convenient for
them, that is, not to necessitate them to eternal flames; then the law
participated, which is the ordination of right reason, instituted for
the common good, to show unto man what he ought to do, and what he ought
not to do. To what purpose is it, to show the right way to him who is
drawn and haled a contrary way by adamantine bonds of inevitable
necessity?

(_g_) “Lastly, howsoever T. H. cries out, that God cannot sin, yet in
truth he makes him to be the principal and most proper cause of all sin.
For he makes him to be the cause, not only of the law and of the action,
but even of the irregularity itself, and the difference between the
action and the law, wherein the very essence of sin doth consist. He
makes God to determine David’s will, and necessitate him to kill Uriah.
In causes physically and essentially subordinate, the cause of the cause
is evermore the cause of the effect. These are those deadly fruits which
spring from the poisonous root of the absolute necessity of all things;
which T. H. seeing, and that neither the sins of Esau, nor Pharaoh, nor
any wicked person do proceed from the operative, but from the permissive
will of God, and that punishment is an act of justice, not of dominion
only, I hope that according to his promise he will change his opinion.

            ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XII.

The Bishop had argued in this manner: “If there be no liberty, there
shall be no last judgment, no rewards nor punishments after death.” To
this I answered, that though God cannot sin, because what he doth, his
doing maketh just, and because he is not subject to another’s law, and
that therefore it is blasphemy to say that God can sin; yet to say, that
God hath so ordered the world that sin may be necessarily committed, is
not blasphemy. And I can also further say, though God be the cause of
all motion and of all actions, and therefore unless sin be no motion nor
action, it must derive a necessity from the first mover; nevertheless it
cannot be said that God is the author of sin, because not he that
necessitateth an action, but he that doth command and warrant it, is the
author. And if God own an action, though otherwise it were a sin, it is
now no sin. The act of the Israelites in robbing the Egyptians of their
jewels, without God’s warrant had been theft. But it was neither theft,
cozenage, nor sin; supposing they knew the warrant was from God. The
rest of my answer to that inconvenience, was an opposing to his
inconveniences the manifest texts of St. Paul, Rom. ix. The substance of
his reply to my answer is this.

(_a_) “Though punishment were an act of dominion, not of justice, in
God; yet this is no sufficient cause why God should deny his own act, or
why he should chide or expostulate with men, why they did that which he
himself did necessitate them to do.”

I never said that God denied his act, but that he may expostulate with
men; and this may be (I shall never say directly, it is) the reason of
that his expostulation, viz. to convince them that their wills were not
independent, but were his mere gift; and that to do, or not to do, is
not in him that willeth, but in God that hath mercy on, or hardeneth
whom he will. But the Bishop interpreteth _hardening_ to be a permission
of God. Which is to attribute to God in such actions no more than he
might have attributed to any of Pharaoh’s servants, the not persuading
their master to let the people go. And whereas he compares this
permission to the indulgence of a parent, that by his patience
encourageth his son to become more rebellious, which indulgence is a
sin; he maketh God to be like a sinful man. And indeed it seemeth that
all they that hold this freedom of the will, conceive of God no
otherwise than the common sort of Jews did, that God was like a man,
that he had been seen by Moses, and after by the seventy elders (Exod.
xxiv. 10); expounding that and other places literally. Again he saith,
that God is said to harden the heart _permissively_, but not
_operatively_; which is the same distinction with his first, namely
_negatively_, not _positively_, and with his second, _occasionally_, and
not _causally_. So that all his three ways how God hardens the heart of
wicked men, come to this one of _permission_; which is as much as to
say, God sees, looks on, and does nothing, nor ever did anything, in the
business. Thus you see how the Bishop expoundeth St. Paul. Therefore I
will leave the rest of his commentary upon Rom. ix. to the judgment of
the reader, to think of the same as he pleaseth.

(_b_) “Yet I do acknowledge that which T. H. saith, ‘that he who doth
permit anything to be done, which it is in his power to hinder, knowing
that if he do not hinder it, it will be done, doth in some sort will
it;’ I say in some sort, that is either by an antecedent will, or by a
consequent will; either by an operative will, or by a permissive will;
or he is willing to let it be done, but not willing to do it.”

Whether it be called antecedent, or consequent, or operative, or
permissive, it is enough for the necessity of the thing that the heart
of Pharaoh should be hardened; and if God were not willing to do it, I
cannot conceive how it could be done without him.

(_c_) “T. H. demands how God should be the cause of the action, and yet
not be the cause of the irregularity of the action? I answer, because he
concurs to the doing of evil by a general, but not by a special,
influence.”

I had thought to pass over this place, because of the nonsense of
general and special influence. Seeing he saith that God concurs to the
doing of evil, I desire the reader would take notice, that if he blame
me for speaking of God as of a necessitating cause, and as it were a
principal agent in the causing of all actions, he may with as good
reason blame himself for making him by concurrence an accessory to the
same. And indeed, let men hold what they will contrary to the truth, if
they write much, the truth will fall into their pens. But he thinks he
hath a similitude, which will make this permissive will a very clear
business. “The earth,” saith he, “gives nourishment to all kinds of
plants, as well to hemlock as to wheat; but the reason why the one
yields food to our sustenance, the other poison to our destruction, is
not from the general nourishment of the earth, but from the special
quality of the root.” It seemeth by this similitude, he thinketh, that
God doth, not operatively, but permissively will that the root of
hemlock should poison the man that eateth it, but that wheat should
nourish him he willeth operatively; which is very absurd; or else he
must confess that the venomous effects of wicked men are willed
operatively.

(_d_) “Wherefore T. H. is mightily mistaken, to make the particular and
determinate act of killing Uriah to be from God. The general power to
act, is from God; but the specification of this general and good power,
to murder, or to any particular evil, is not from God, but from the free
will of man.”

But why am I so mightily mistaken? Did not God foreknow that Uriah in
particular, should be murdered by David in particular? And what God
foreknoweth shall come to pass, can that possibly not come so to pass?
And that which cannot possibly not come to pass, doth not that
necessarily come to pass? And is not all necessity from God? I cannot
see this great mistake. “The general power,” saith he, “to act is from
God, but the specification to do this act upon Uriah, is not from God,
but from free-will.” Very learnedly. As if there were a power that were
not the power to do some particular act; or a power to kill, and yet to
kill nobody in particular. If the power be to kill, it is to kill that
which shall be by that power killed, whether it be Uriah or any other;
and the giving of that power, is the application of it to the act; nor
doth power signify anything actually, but those motions and present acts
from which the act that is not now, but shall be hereafter, necessarily
proceedeth. And therefore this argument is much like that which used
heretofore to be brought for the defence of the divine right of the
bishops to the ordination of ministers. They derive not, say they, the
right of ordination from the civil sovereign, but from Christ
immediately. And yet they acknowledge that it is unlawful for them to
ordain, if the civil power do forbid them. But how have they right to
ordain, when they cannot do it lawfully? Their answer is, they have the
right, though they may not exercise it; as if the right to ordain, and
the right to exercise ordination, were not the same thing. And as they
answer concerning right, which is legal power, so the Bishop answereth
concerning natural power, that David had a general power to kill Uriah
from God, but not a power of applying this power in special to the
killing of Uriah from God, but from his own free will; that is, he had a
power to kill Uriah, but not to exercise it upon Uriah, that is to say,
he had a power to kill him, but not to kill him, which is absurd.

(_e_) “But if the case be put why God doth punish one more than another,
or why he throws one into hell fire, and not another, which is the
present case between us; to say with T. H., that it is because God is
omnipotent, or because his power is irresistible, or merely because it
is his pleasure, is not only not warranted, but is plainly condemned by
St. Paul in this place.”

I note first, that he hath no reason to say, the case agitated between
us is, whether the cause why God punisheth one man more than another, be
his irresistible power, or man’s sin. The case agitated between us is,
whether a man can now choose what shall be his _will_ anon, or at any
time hereafter. Again, it is not true that he says, it is my opinion
that the irresistible power of God is the cause why he punisheth one
more than another. I say only that when he doth so, the irresistible
power is enough to make it not unjust. But that the cause why God
punisheth one more than another, is many times the will he hath to show
his power, is affirmed in this place by St. Paul, _Shall the thing
formed, say to him that formed it_, &c. And by our Saviour in the case
of him that was born blind, where he saith, _Neither hath this man
sinned nor his parents; but that the works of God may be made manifest_.
And by the expostulation of God with Job. This endeavour of his to bring
the text of St. Paul to his purpose, is not only frustrate, but the
cause of many insignificant phrases in his discourse; as this: “It was
in their own power, by their concurrence with God’s grace, to prevent
these judgments, and to recover their former estates,” which is as good
sense, as if he should say, that it is in his own power, with the
concurrence of the sovereign power of England, to be what he will. And
this, that “God may oblige himself freely to his creature.” For he that
can oblige, can also, when he will, release; and he that can release
himself when he will, is not obliged. Besides this, he is driven to
words ill-becoming him that is to speak of God Almighty; for he makes
him unable to do that which hath been within the ordinary power of men
to do. “God,” he saith, “cannot destroy the righteous with the wicked;”
which nevertheless is a thing ordinarily done by armies: and “He could
not destroy Sodom while Lot was in it;” which he interpreteth, as if he
could not do it lawfully. One text is Genesis xviii. 23, 24, 25. There
is not a word that God could not destroy the righteous with the wicked.
Only Abraham saith (as a man): _Shall not the Judge of all the earth do
right?_ Another is Genesis 22): _Haste thee, escape thither; for I
cannot do any thing till thou be come thither_. Which is an ordinary
phrase, in such a case where God had determined to burn the city and
save a particular man, and signifieth not any obligation to save Lot
more than the rest. Likewise concerning Job, who, expostulating with
God, was answered only with the explication of the infinite power of
God, the Bishop answereth, that there is never a word of Job’s being
punished without desert; which answer is impertinent. For I say not that
he was punished without desert, but that it was not for his desert that
he was afflicted; for punished, he was not at all.

And concerning the blind man, (John ix.), who was born blind, that the
power of God might be shewn in him; he answers that it was not a
punishment, but a blessing. I did not say it was a punishment; certainly
it was an affliction. How then doth he call it a blessing? Reasonably
enough: “because,” saith he, “it was the means to raise his soul
illuminated, and to bring him to see the face of God in Jesus Christ.
The sight of the body is common to us with ants and flies, but the sight
of the soul, with the blessed angels.” This is very well said; for no
man doubts but some afflictions may be blessings; but I doubt whether
the Bishop, that says he reads of some who have put out their bodily
eyes, because they thought they were an impediment to the eye of the
soul, think that they did well. To that where I say that brute beasts
are afflicted which cannot sin, he answereth, that “there is a vast
difference between those light and momentary pangs, and the unsufferable
and endless pains of hell.” As if the length or the greatness of the
pain, made any difference in the justice or injustice of the inflicting
it.

(_f_) “But his greatest error is that which I touched before, to make
justice to be the proper result of power.”

He would make men believe, I hold all things to be just, that are done
by them who have power enough to avoid the punishment. This is one of
his pretty little policies, by which I find him in many occasions to
take the measure of his own wisdom. I said no more, but that the power,
which is absolutely irresistible, makes him that hath it above all law,
so that nothing he doth can be unjust. But this power can be no other
than the power divine. Therefore let him preach what he will upon his
mistaken text, I shall leave it to the reader to consider of it, without
any further answer.

(_g_) “Lastly, howsoever T. H. cries out that God cannot sin, yet in
truth he makes him to be the principal and most proper cause of all sin.
For he makes him to be the cause not only of the law, and of the action,
but even of the irregularity itself, &c. wherein the very essence of sin
doth consist.”

I think there is no man but understands, no, not the Bishop himself, but
that where two things are compared, the similitude or dissimilitude,
regularity or irregularity, that is between them, is made in and by the
making of the things themselves that are compared. The Bishop,
therefore, that denies God to be the cause of the irregularity, denies
him to be the cause both of the law and of the action. So that by his
doctrine, there shall be a good law whereof God shall be no cause, and
an action, that is, a local motion that shall depend upon another first
mover that is not God. The rest of this number is but railing.

             PROOFS OF LIBERTY DRAWN FROM REASON. NO. XIII.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “The first argument is _Herculeum_ or _baculinum_, drawn from
that pleasant passage between Zeno and his man. The servant had
committed some petty larceny, and the master was cudgelling him well for
it. The servant thinks to creep under his master’s blind side, and
pleads for himself that ‘the necessity of destiny did compel him to
steal.’ The master answers, ‘the same necessity of destiny compels me to
beat thee.’ He that denies liberty, is fitter to be refuted with rods
than with arguments, until he confess that it is free for him that beats
him, either to continue striking, or to give over, that is, to have true
liberty.”

_T. H._ Of the arguments from reason, the first is that which he saith
is drawn from Zeno’s beating of his man, which is therefore called
_argumentum baculinum_, that is to say, a wooden argument. The story is
this. Zeno held that all actions were necessary. His man therefore,
being for some fault beaten, excused himself upon the necessity of it.
To avoid this excuse, his master pleaded likewise the necessity of
beating him. So that not he that maintained, but he that derided the
necessity of things, was beaten; contrary to that he would infer; and
the argument was rather withdrawn, than drawn, from the story.

_J. D._ “Whether the argument be withdrawn from the story, or the answer
withdrawn from the argument, let the reader judge. T. H. mistakes the
scope of the reason, the strength whereof doth not lie, neither in the
authority of Zeno, a rigid Stoic, which is not worth a button in this
cause; nor in the servant’s being an adversary to stoical necessity. For
it appears not out of the story, that the servant did deride necessity,
but rather that he pleaded it in good earnest for his own justification.
Now in the success of the fray, we were told even now, that no power
doth justify an action, but only that which is irresistible. Such was
not Zeno’s. And therefore it advantageth neither of their causes,
neither that of Zeno, nor this of T. H. What if the servant had taken
the staff out of his master’s hand, and beaten him soundly, would not
the same argument have served the man as well as it did the master, that
the necessity of destiny did compel him to strike again? Had not Zeno
smarted justly for his paradox? And might not the spectators well have
taken up the judge’s apothegm, concerning the dispute between Corax and
his scholar, ‘an ill egg of an ill bird’? But the strength of this
argument lies _partly_ in the ignorance of Zeno, that great champion of
necessity, and the beggarliness of his cause, which admitted no defence
but with a cudgel. No man, saith the servant, ought to be beaten for
doing that which he is compelled inevitably to do: but I am compelled
inevitably to steal. The major is so evident, that it cannot be denied.
If a strong man shall take a weak man’s hand per force, and do violence
with it to a third person, he whose hand is forced, is innocent, and he
only culpable who compelled him. The minor was Zeno’s own doctrine; what
answer made the great patron of destiny to his servant? very learnedly
he denied the conclusion, and cudgelled his servant; telling him in
effect, that though there was no reason why he should be beaten, yet
there was a necessity why he must be beaten. And _partly_ in the evident
absurdity of such an opinion, which deserves not to be confuted with
reasons, but with rods. There are four things, said the philosopher,
which ought not to be called into question. First, such things whereof
it is wickedness to doubt; as whether the soul be immortal, whether
there be a God, such an one should not be confuted with reasons, but
cast into the sea with a mill-stone about his neck, as unworthy to
breathe the air, or to behold the light. Secondly, such things as are
above the capacity of reason; as among Christians, the mystery of the
Holy Trinity. Thirdly, such principles as are evidently true; as that
two and two are four, in arithmetic; that the whole is greater than the
part, in logic. Fourthly, such things as are obvious to the senses; as
whether the snow be white. He who denied the heat of the fire, was
justly sentenced to be scorched with fire; and he that denied motion, to
be beaten until he recanted. So he who denies all liberty from
necessitation, should be scourged until he become an humble suppliant to
him that whips him, and confess that he hath power, either to strike, or
to hold his hand.”

_T. H._ In this Number XIII. which is about Zeno and his man, there is
contained nothing necessary to the instruction of the reader. Therefore
I pass it over.

                                NO. XIV.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Secondly, this very persuasion that there is no true liberty,
is able to overthrow all societies and commonwealths in the world. The
laws are unjust, which prohibit that which a man cannot possibly shun.
All consultations are vain, if every thing be either necessary or
impossible. Who ever deliberated whether the sun should rise to-morrow,
or whether he should sail over mountains? It is to no more purpose to
admonish men of understanding than fools, children, or madmen, if all
things be necessary. Praises and dispraises, rewards and punishments,
are as vain as they are undeserved, if there be no liberty. All
counsels, arts, arms, books, instruments, are superfluous and foolish,
if there be no liberty. In vain we labour, in vain we study, in vain we
take physic, in vain we have tutors to instruct us, if all things come
to pass alike, whether we sleep or wake, whether we be idle or
industrious, by unalterable necessity. But it is said, that though
future events be certain, yet they are unknown to us: and therefore we
prohibit, deliberate, admonish, praise, dispraise, reward, punish,
study, labour, and use means. Alas! how should our not knowing of the
event, be a sufficient motive to us to use the means, so long as we
believe the event is already certainly determined, and can no more be
changed by all our endeavours, than we can stay the course of heaven
with our finger, or add a cubit to our stature? Suppose it be unknown,
yet it is certain. We cannot hope to alter the course of things by our
labours; let the necessary causes do their work, we have no remedy but
patience, and shrug up the shoulders. Either allow liberty, or destroy
all societies.”

_T. H._ The second argument is taken from certain inconveniences which
he thinks would follow such an opinion. It is true that ill use may be
made of it, and therefore your Lordship and J. D. ought, at my request,
to keep private that I say here of it. But the inconveniences are indeed
none; and what use soever be made of truth, yet truth is truth; and now
the question is, not what is fit to be preached, but what is true. The
first inconvenience he says is this, that laws which prohibit any action
are then unjust. The second, that all consultations are vain. The third,
that admonitions to men of understanding, are of no more use than to
fools, children, and madmen. The fourth, that praise, dispraise, reward,
and punishment, are in vain. The fifth, that counsels, arts, arms,
books, instruments, study, tutors, medicines, are in vain. To which
argument, expecting I should answer by saying, that the ignorance of the
event were enough to make us use means, he adds (as it were a reply to
my answer foreseen) these words: “Alas, how should our not knowing of
the event be a sufficient motive to make us use the means?” Wherein he
saith right; but my answer is not that which he expecteth. I answer,

First, that the necessity of an action doth not make the law which
prohibits it unjust. To let pass, that not the necessity, but the will
to break the law, maketh the action unjust, because the law regardeth
the will, and no other precedent causes of action; and to let pass, that
no law can be possibly unjust, in as much as every man makes, by his
consent, the law he is bound to keep, and which, consequently, must be
just, unless a man can be unjust to himself: I say, what necessary cause
soever precedes an action, yet, if the action be forbidden, he that doth
it willingly, may justly be punished. For instance, suppose the law on
pain of death prohibit stealing, and there be a man who by the strength
of temptation is necessitated to steal, and is thereupon put to death:
does not this punishment deter others from theft? Is it not a cause that
others steal not? Doth it not frame and make their will to justice? To
make the law is therefore to make a cause of justice, and to necessitate
justice; and consequently it is no injustice to make such a law.

The institution of the law is not to grieve the delinquent for that
which is passed and not to be undone; but to make him and others just,
that else would not be so: and respecteth not the evil act past, but the
good to come. Insomuch as without this good intention of future, no past
act of a delinquent could justify his killing in the sight of God. But,
you will say, how is it just to kill one man to amend another, if what
was done were necessary? To this I answer, that men are justly killed,
not for that their actions are not necessitated, but that they are
spared and preserved, because they are not noxious; for where there is
no law, there no killing, nor any thing else can be unjust. And by the
right of nature we destroy, without being unjust, all that is noxious,
both beasts and men. And for beasts, we kill them justly, when we do it
in order to our own preservation. And yet J. D. confesseth, that their
actions, as being only spontaneous and not free, are all necessitated
and determined to that one thing which they shall do. For men, when we
make societies or commonwealths, we lay down our right to kill,
excepting in certain cases, as murder, theft, or other offensive
actions. So that the right which the commonwealth hath, to put a man to
death for crimes, is not created by the law, but remains from the first
right of nature, which every man hath to preserve himself; for the law
doth not take that right away, in case of criminals, who were by law
excepted. Men are not therefore put to death or punished, for that their
theft proceedeth from election; but because it was noxious and contrary
to men’s preservation, and the punishment conducing to the preservation
of the rest: inasmuch as to punish those that do voluntary hurt, and
none else, frameth and maketh men’s wills, such as men would have them.
And thus it is plain, that from the necessity of a voluntary action
cannot be inferred the injustice of the law that forbiddeth it, or of
the magistrate that punisheth it.

Secondly, I deny that it makes consultations to be in vain; it is the
consultation that causeth a man, and necessitateth him, to choose to do
one thing rather than another. So that unless a man say that cause to be
in vain, which necessitateth the effect, he cannot infer the
superfluousness of consultation out of the necessity of the election
proceeding from it. But it seems he reasons thus: If I must needs do
this rather than that, then I shall do this rather than that, though I
consult not at all; which is a false proposition, a false consequence,
and no better than this: If I shall live till to-morrow, I shall live
till to-morrow, though I run myself through with a sword to-day. If
there be a necessity that an action shall be done, or that any effect
shall be brought to pass, it does not therefore follow that there is
nothing necessarily required as a means to bring it to pass. And
therefore, when it is determined that one thing shall be chosen before
another, it is determined also for what cause it shall be chosen; which
cause, for the most part, is deliberation or consultation. And therefore
consultation is not in vain; and indeed the less in vain, by how much
the election is more necessitated.

The same answer is to be given to the third supposed inconvenience;
namely, that admonitions are in vain; for admonitions are parts of
consultations; the admonitor being a counsellor, for the time, to him
that is admonished.

The fourth pretended inconvenience is, that praise and dispraise, reward
and punishment, will be in vain. To which I answer, that for praise and
dispraise, they depend not at all on the necessity of the action praised
or dispraised. For, what is it else to praise, but to say a thing is
good? Good, I say, for me, or for somebody else, or for the state and
commonwealth. And what is it to say an action is good, but to say, it is
as I would wish, or as another would have it, or according to the will
of the state, that is to say, according to law? Does J. D. think, that
no action can please me or him, or the commonwealth, that should proceed
from necessity?

Things may be therefore necessary and yet praiseworthy, as also
necessary and yet dispraised, and neither of both in vain; because
praise and dispraise, and likewise reward and punishment, do by example
make and conform the will to good or evil. It was a very great praise,
in my opinion, that Velleius Paterculus gives Cato, where he says, he
was good by nature, _et quia aliter esse non potuit_.

To his fifth and sixth inconvenience, that counsels, arts, arms, books,
instruments, study, medicines, and the like, would be superfluous, the
same answer serves that to the former; that is to say, that this
consequence, if the effect shall necessarily come to pass, then it shall
come to pass without its cause, is a false one. And those things named,
counsels, arts, arms, &c., are the causes of those effects.

_J. D._ “Nothing is more familiar with T. H. than to decline an
argument. But I will put it into form for him. (_a_) The first
inconvenience is thus pressed. Those laws are unjust and tyrannical,
which do prescribe things absolutely impossible in themselves to be
done, and punish men for not doing of them. But supposing T. H’s opinion
of the necessity of all things to be true, all laws do prescribe
absolute impossibilities to be done, and punish men for not doing of
them. The former proposition is so clear that it cannot be denied. Just
laws are the ordinances of right reason; but those laws which prescribe
absolute impossibilities, are not the ordinances of right reason. Just
laws are instituted for the public good; but those laws which prescribe
absolute impossibilities, are not instituted for the public good. Just
laws do show unto a man what is to be done, and what is to be shunned;
but those laws which prescribe impossibilities, do not direct a man what
he is to do, and what he is to shun. The minor is as evident. For if his
opinion be true, all actions, all transgressions are determined
antecedently inevitably to be done by a natural and necessary flux of
extrinsical causes. Yea, even the will of man, and the reason itself is
thus determined. And therefore whatsoever laws do prescribe any thing to
be done, which is not done, or to be left undone which is done, do
prescribe absolute impossibilities, and punish men for not doing of
impossibilities. In all his answer there is not one word to this
argument, but only to the conclusion. He saith, that ‘not the necessity,
but the will to break the law makes the action unjust.’ I ask what makes
the will to break the law; is it not his necessity? What gets he by
this? A perverse will causeth injustice, and necessity causeth a
perverse will. He saith, ‘the law regardeth the will, but not the
precedent causes of action.’ To what proposition, to what term is this
answer? He neither denies nor distinguisheth. First, the question here
is not what makes actions to be unjust, but what makes laws to be
unjust. So his answer is impertinent. It is likewise untrue. For first,
that will which the law regards, is not such a will as T. H. imagineth.
It is a free will, not a determined necessitated will; a rational will,
not a brutish will. Secondly, the law doth look upon precedent causes,
as well as the voluntariness of the action. If a child, before he be
seven years old or have the use of reason, in some childish quarrel do
willingly stab another, whereof we have seen experience, yet the law
looks not upon it as an act of murder; because there wanted a power to
deliberate, and consequently true liberty. Manslaughter may be as
voluntary as murder, and commonly more voluntary; because being done in
hot blood there is the less reluctation. Yet the law considers, that the
former is done out of some sudden passion without serious deliberation,
and the other out of prepensed malice and desire of revenge; and
therefore condemns murder, as more wilful and more punishable than
manslaughter.”

(_b_) “He saith, ‘that no law can possibly be unjust;’ and I say, that
this is to deny the conclusion, which deserves no reply. But to give him
satisfaction, I will follow him in this also, if he intended no more but
that unjust laws are not genuine laws, nor bind to active obedience,
because they are not the ordinations of right reason, not instituted for
the common good, nor prescribe that which ought to be done; he said
truly, but nothing at all to his purpose. But if he intend, as he doth,
that there are no laws _de facto_, which are the ordinances of reason
erring, instituted for the common hurt, and prescribing that which ought
not to be done, he is much mistaken. Pharaoh’s law, to drown the male
children of the Israelites (Exod. i. 22); Nebuchadnezzar’s law, that
whosoever did not fall down and worship the golden image which he had
set up, should be cast into the fiery furnace (Dan. iii. 4-6); Darius’s
law, that whosoever should ask a petition of any God or man for thirty
days, save of the king, should be cast into the den of lions (Dan. vi.
7); Ahasuerus’s law, to destroy the Jewish nation, root and branch
(Esther iii. 13); the Pharisees’ law, that whosoever confesseth Christ,
should be excommunicated (John ix. 22); were all unjust laws.

(_c_) “The ground of this error is as great an error itself (such an art
he hath learned of repacking paradoxes); which is this, ‘that every man
makes by his consent the law which he is bound to keep.’ If this were
true, it would preserve them, if not from being unjust, yet from being
injurious. But it is not true. The positive law of God, contained in the
Old and New Testament; the law of nature, written in our hearts by the
finger of God; the laws of conquerors, who come in by the power of the
sword; the laws of our ancestors, which were made before we were born;
do all oblige us to the observation of them; yet to none of all these
did we give our actual consent. Over and above all these exceptions, he
builds upon a wrong foundation, that all magistrates at first were
elective. The first governors were fathers of families; and when those
petty princes could not afford competent protection and security to
their subjects, many of them did resign their several and respective
interests into the hands of one joint father of the country.

“And though his ground had been true, that all first legislators were
elective, which is false; yet his superstructure fails: for it was done
in hope and trust that they would make just laws. If magistrates abuse
this trust, and deceive the hopes of the people by making tyrannical
laws, yet it is without their consent. A precedent trust doth not
justify the subsequent errors and abuses of a trustee. He who is duly
elected a legislator, may exercise his legislative power unduly. The
people’s implicit consent doth not render the tyrannical laws of their
legislators to be just.

(_d_) “But his chiefest answer is, that ‘an action forbidden, though it
proceed from necessary causes, yet if it were done willingly, it may be
justly punished;’ which, according to his custom, he proves by an
instance. ‘A man necessitated to steal by the strength of temptation,
yet if he steal willingly, is justly put to death.’ Here are two things,
and both of them untrue.

“First, he fails in his assertion. Indeed we suffer justly for those
necessities, which we ourselves have contracted by our own fault; but
not for extrinsical antecedent necessities, which were imposed upon us
without our fault. If that law do not oblige to punishment, which is not
intimated, because the subject is invincibly ignorant of it; how much
less that law which prescribes absolute impossibilities: unless perhaps
invincible necessity be not as strong a plea as invincible ignorance.
That which he adds, ‘if it were done willingly,’ though it be of great
moment, if it be rightly understood, yet in his sense, that is, if a
man’s ‘will be not in his own disposition,’ and ‘if his willing do not
come upon him according to his will, nor according to anything else in
his power,’ it weighs not half so much as the least feather in all his
horse-load. For if that law be unjust and tyrannical which commands a
man to do that which is impossible for him to do, then that law is
likewise unjust and tyrannical, which commands him to will that which is
impossible for him to will.

“Secondly, his instance supposeth an untruth, and is a plain begging of
the question. No man is extrinsically, antecedently, and irresistibly
necessitated by temptation to steal. The devil may solicit us, but he
cannot necessitate us. He hath a faculty of persuading, but not a power
of compelling. _Nos ignem habemus, spiritus flammam ciet_; as Gregory
Nazianzen, he blows the coals, but the fire is our own. _Mordet duntaxat
sese in fauces illius objicientem_; as St. Austin, he bites not, until
we thrust ourselves into his mouth. He may propose, he may suggest, but
he cannot move the will effectively. _Resist the devil, and he will flee
from you_ (James iv. 7). By faith we are able _to quench all the fiery
darts of the wicked_ (Ephes. vi. 16). And if Satan, who can both propose
the object, and choose out the fittest times and places to work upon our
frailties, and can suggest reasons, yet cannot necessitate the will,
(which is most certain); then much less can outward objects do it alone.
They have no natural efficacy to determine the will. Well may they be
occasions, but they cannot be causes of evil. The sensitive appetite may
engender a proclivity to steal, but not a necessity to steal. And if it
should produce a kind of necessity, yet it is but moral, not natural;
hypothetical, not absolute; coexistent, not antecedent from ourselves,
nor extrinsical. This necessity, or rather proclivity, was free in its
causes; we ourselves by our own negligence in not opposing our passions
when we should and might, have freely given it a kind of dominion over
us. Admit that some sudden passions may and do extraordinarily surprise
us; and therefore we say, _motus primo primi_, the first motions are not
always in our power, neither are they free: yet this is but very rarely,
and it is our own fault that they do surprise us. Neither doth the law
punish the first motion to theft, but the advised act of stealing. The
intention makes the thief. But of this more largely No. XXV.

(_e_) “He pleads moreover, ‘That the law is a cause of justice,’ that
‘it frames the wills of men to justice,’ and ‘that the punishment of one
doth conduce to the preservation of many.’ All this is most true of a
just law justly executed. But this is no God-a-mercy to T. H.’s opinion
of absolute necessity. If all actions and all events be predetermined
naturally, necessarily, extrinsically, how should the law frame men
morally to good actions? He leaves nothing for the law to do, but either
that which is done already, or that which is impossible to be done. If a
man be chained to every individual act which he doth, and from every act
which he doth not, by indissolvable bonds of inevitable necessity, how
should the law either deter him or frame him? If a dog be chained fast
to a post, the sight of a rod cannot draw him from it. Make a thousand
laws that the fire shall not burn, yet it will burn. And whatsoever men
do, according to T. H., they do it as necessarily as the fire burneth.
Hang up a thousand thieves, and if a man be determined inevitably to
steal, he must steal notwithstanding.

(_f_) “He adds, that ‘the sufferings imposed by the law upon
delinquents, respect not the evil act passed, but the good to come, and
that the putting of a delinquent to death by the magistrate for any
crime whatsoever, cannot be justified before God, except there be a real
intention to benefit others by his example.’ The truth is, the punishing
of delinquents by law, respecteth both the evil act passed and the good
to come. The ground of it, is the evil act passed, the scope or end of
it, is the good to come. The end without the ground cannot justify the
act. A bad intention may make a good action bad; but a good intention
cannot make a bad action good. It is not lawful to do evil that good may
come of it, nor to punish an innocent person for the admonition of
others; that is to fall into a certain crime for fear of an uncertain.
Again, though there were no other end of penalties inflicted, neither
probatory, nor castigatory, nor exemplary, but only vindicatory, to
satisfy the law out of a zeal of justice by giving to every one his own,
yet the action is just and warrantable. Killing, as it is considered in
itself, without all undue circumstances, was never prohibited to the
lawful magistrate, who is the vice-gerent or lieutenant of God, from
whom he derives his power of life and death.

“T. H. hath one plea more. As a drowning man catcheth at every bulrush,
so he lays hold on every pretence to save a desperate cause. But first,
it is worth our observation to see how oft he changeth shapes in this
one particular. (_g_) First, he told us, that it was the irresistible
power of God that justifies all his actions, though he command one thing
openly, and plot another thing secretly, though he be the cause not only
of the action, but also of the irregularity; though he both give man
power to act, and determine this power to evil as well as good; though
he punish the creatures, for doing that which he himself did necessitate
them to do. But being pressed with reason, that this is tyrannical,
first to necessitate a man to do his will, and then to punish him for
doing of it, he leaves this pretence in the plain field, and flies to a
second; that therefore a man is justly punished for that which he was
necessitated to do, because the act was voluntary on his part. This hath
more show of reason than the former, if he did make the will of man to
be in his own disposition; but maintaining that the will is irresistibly
determined to will whatsoever it doth will, the injustice and absurdity
is the same, first to necessitate a man to will, and then to punish him
for willing. The dog only bites the stone which is thrown at him with a
strange hand, but they make the first cause to punish the instrument for
that which is his own proper act. Wherefore not being satisfied with
this, he casts it off and flies to his third shift. ‘Men are not
punished,’ saith he, ‘therefore, because their theft proceeded from
election,’ (that is, because it was willingly done, for to elect and
will, saith he, are both one; is not this to blow hot and cold with the
same breath?) ‘but because it was noxious and contrary to men’s
preservation.’ Thus far he saith true, that every creature by the
instinct of nature seeks to preserve itself: cast water into a dusty
place, and it contracts itself into little globes, that is to preserve
itself. And those who are noxious in the eye of the law, are justly
punished by them to whom the execution of the law is committed; but the
law accounts no persons noxious, but those who are noxious by their own
fault. It punisheth not a thorn for pricking, because it is the nature
of the thorn, and it can do no otherwise, nor a child, before it have
the use of reason. If one should take my hand perforce and give another
a box on the ear with it, my hand is noxious, but the law punisheth the
other who is faulty. And therefore he hath reason to propose the
question, ‘how it is just to kill one man to amend another, if he who
killed did nothing but what he was necessitated to do.’ He might as well
demand, how it is lawful to murder a company of innocent infants, to
make a bath of their lukewarm blood for curing the leprosy. It had been
a more rational way, first to have demonstrated that it is so, and then
to have questioned why it is so. His assertion itself is but a dream,
and the reason which he gives of it why it is so, is a dream of a dream.

“The sum of it is this; ‘that where there is no law, there no killing or
any thing else can be unjust; that before the constitution of
commonwealths, every man had power to kill another, if he conceived him
to be hurtful to him; that at the constitution of commonwealths,
particular men lay down this right in part, and in part reserve it to
themselves, as in case of theft or murder; that the right which the
commonwealth hath to put a malefactor to death, is not created by the
law, but remaineth from the first right of nature which every man hath
to preserve himself; that the killing of men in this case is as the
killing of beasts in order to our own preservation.’ This may well be
called stringing of paradoxes.

“But first, (_h_) there never was any such time when mankind was without
governors and laws, and societies. Paternal government was in the world
from the beginning, and the law of nature. There might be sometimes a
root of such barbarous thievish brigands, in some rocks or deserts, or
odd corners of the world; but it was an abuse and a degeneration from
the nature of man, who is a political creature. This savage opinion
reflects too much upon the honour of mankind.

“Secondly, there never was a time when it was lawful, ordinarily, for
private men to kill one another for their own preservation. If God would
have had men live like wild beasts, as lions, bears, or tigers, he would
have armed them with horns, or tusks, or talons, or pricks; but of all
creatures man is born most naked, without any weapon to defend himself,
because God had provided a better means of security for him, that is,
the magistrate.

“Thirdly, that right which private men have to preserve themselves,
though it be with the killing of another, when they are set upon to be
murdered or robbed, is not a remainder or a reserve of some greater
power which they have resigned, but a privilege which God hath given
them, in case of extreme danger and invincible necessity, that when they
cannot possibly have recourse to the ordinary remedy, that is, the
magistrate, every man becomes a magistrate to himself.

“Fourthly, nothing can give that which it never had. The people, whilst
they were a dispersed rabble, (which in some odd cases might happen to
be), never had justly the power of life and death, and therefore they
could not give it by their election. All that they do is to prepare the
matter, but it is God Almighty that infuseth the soul of power.

“Fifthly and lastly, I am sorry to hear a man of reason and parts to
compare the murdering of men with the slaughtering of brute beasts. The
elements are for the plants, the plants for the brute beasts, the brute
beasts for man. When God enlarged his former grant to man, and gave him
liberty to eat the flesh of his creatures for his sustenance, (Gen. ix.
3), yet man is expressly excepted (verse 6): _Whoso sheddeth man’s
blood, by man shall his blood be shed_. And the reason is assigned, _for
in the image of God made he man_. Before sin entered into the world, or
before any creatures were hurtful or noxious to man, he had dominion
over them as their lord and master. And though the possession of this
sovereignty be lost in part, for the sin of man, which made not only the
creatures to rebel, but also the inferior faculties to rebel against the
superior, from whence it comes that one man is hurtful to another; yet
the dominion still remains. Wherein we may observe how sweetly the
providence of God doth temper this cross; that though the strongest
creatures have withdrawn their obedience, as lions and bears, to shew
that man hath lost the excellency of his dominion, and the weakest
creatures, as flies and gnats, to shew into what a degree of contempt he
is fallen; yet still the most profitable and useful creatures, as sheep
and oxen, do in some degree retain their obedience.

(_i_) “The next branch of his answer concerns consultations, ‘which,’
saith he, ‘are not superfluous, though all things come to pass
necessarily, because they are the cause which doth necessitate the
effect, and the means to bring it to pass.’ We were told (No. XI.) ‘that
the last dictate of right reason was but as the last feather which
breaks the horse’s back. It is well yet, that reason hath gained some
command again, and is become at least a quarter-master. Certainly if any
thing under God have power to determine the will, it is right reason.
But I have shewed sufficiently, that reason doth not determine the will
physically, nor absolutely, much less extrinsically, and antecedently;
and therefore it makes nothing for that necessity which T. H. hath
undertaken to prove.

(_k_) “He adds further, that ‘as the end is necessary, so are the means;
and when it is determined that one thing shall be chosen before another,
it is determined also for what cause it shall be so chosen.’ All which
is truth, but not the whole truth; for as God ordains means for all
ends, so he adapts and fits the means to their respective ends, free
means to free ends, contingent means to contingent ends, necessary means
to necessary ends, whereas T. H. would have all means, all ends, to be
necessary. If God hath so ordered the world, that a man ought to use,
and may freely use, those means of God, which he doth neglect, not by
virtue of God’s decree, but by his own fault; if a man use those means
of evil, which he ought not to use, and which by God’s decree he had
power to forbear; if God have left to man in part the free managery of
human affairs, and to that purpose hath endowed him with understanding:
then consultations are of use, then provident care is needful, then it
concerns him to use the means. But if God have so ordered this world,
that a man cannot, if he would, neglect any means of good, which by
virtue of God’s decree it is possible for him to use, and that he cannot
possibly use any means of evil, but those which are irresistibly and
inevitably imposed upon him by an antecedent decree; then not only
consultations are vain, but that noble faculty of reason itself is vain.
Do we think that we can help God Almighty to do his proper work? In vain
we trouble ourselves, in vain we take care to use those means, which are
not in our power to use, or not to use. And this is that which was
contained in my prolepsis or prevention of his answer, though he be
pleased both to disorder it, and to silence it. We cannot hope by our
labours, to alter the course of things set down by God; let him perform
his decree, let the necessary causes do their work. If we be those
causes, yet we are not in our own disposition; we must do what we are
ordained to do, and more we cannot do. Man hath no remedy but patience,
and to shrug up the shoulders. This is the doctrine that flows from this
opinion of absolute necessity. Let us suppose the great wheel of the
clock which sets all the little wheels going, to be as the decree of
God, and that the motion of it were perpetually infallible from an
intrinsical principle, even as God’s decree is infallible, eternal,
all-sufficient. Let us suppose the lesser wheels to be the second
causes, and that they do as certainly follow the motion of the great
wheel, without missing or swerving in the least degree, as the second
causes do pursue the determination of the first cause. I desire to know
in this case, what cause there is to call a council of smiths, to
consult and order the motion of that which was ordered and determined
before to their hands? Are men wiser than God? Yet all men know, that
the motion of the lesser wheels is a necessary means to make the clock
strike.

(_l_) “But he tells me in great sadness, that ‘my argument is just like
this other; if I shall live till to-morrow, I shall live till to-morrow,
though I run myself through with a sword to-day; which, saith he, is a
false consequence, and a false proposition.’ Truly, if by running
through, he understands killing, it is a false, or rather a foolish
proposition, and implies a contradiction. To live till to-morrow, and to
die to-day, are inconsistent. But by his favour, this is not my
consequence, but this is his own opinion. He would persuade us, that it
is absolutely necessary that a man shall live till to-morrow, and yet
that it is possible that he may kill himself to-day. My argument is
this: if there be a liberty and possibility for a man to kill himself
to-day, then it is not absolutely necessary that he shall live till
to-morrow; but there is such a liberty, therefore no such necessity. And
the consequence which I make here, is this: if it be absolutely
necessary, that a man shall live till to-morrow, then it is vain and
superfluous for him to consult and deliberate whether he should die
to-day, or not. And this is a true consequence. The ground of his
mistake is this, that though it be true, that a man may kill himself
to-day, yet upon the supposition of his absolute necessity, it is
impossible. Such heterogeneous arguments and instances he produceth,
which are half builded upon our true grounds, and the other half upon
his false grounds.

(_m_) “The next branch of my argument concerns admonitions, to which he
gives no new answer, and therefore I need not make any new reply, saving
only to tell him, that he mistakes my argument. I say not only, if all
things be necessary, then admonitions are in vain; but if all things be
necessary, then it is to no more purpose to admonish men of
understanding than fools, children, or madmen. That they do admonish the
one and not the other, is confessedly true; and no reason under heaven
can be given for it but this, that the former have the use of reason and
true liberty, with a dominion over their own actions, which children,
fools, and madmen have not.

“Concerning praise and dispraise, he enlargeth himself. The scope of his
discourse is, that ‘things necessary may be praiseworthy.’ There is no
doubt of it; but withal their praise reflects upon the free agent, as
the praise of a statue reflects upon the workman who made it. ‘To praise
a thing,’ saith he, ‘is to say it is good.’ (_n_) True, but this
goodness is not a metaphysical goodness; so the worst of things, and
whatsoever hath a being, is good: nor a natural goodness; the praise of
it passeth wholly to the Author of nature; _God saw all that he had
made, and it was very good_: but a moral goodness, or a goodness of
actions rather than of things. The moral goodness of an action is the
conformity of it with right reason. The moral evil of an action is the
deformity of it, and the alienation of it from right reason. It is moral
praise and dispraise which we speak of here. To praise anything morally,
is to say, it is morally good, that is, conformable to right reason. The
moral dispraise of a thing is to say, it is morally bad, or disagreeing
from the rule of right reason. So moral praise is from the good use of
liberty, moral dispraise from the bad use of liberty; but if all things
be necessary, then moral liberty is quite taken away, and with it all
true praise and dispraise. Whereas T. H. adds, that ‘to say a thing is
good, is to say, it is as I would wish, or as another would wish, or as
the state would have it, or according to the law of the land;’ he
mistakes infinitely. He, and another, and the state, may all wish that
which is not really good, but only in appearance. We do often wish what
is profitable or delightful, without regarding so much as we ought what
is honest. And though the will of the state where we live, or the law of
the land, do deserve great consideration, yet it is no infallible rule
of moral goodness. And therefore to his question, ‘whether nothing that
proceeds from necessity can please me,’ I answer, yes. The burning of
the fire pleaseth me, when I am cold; and I say, it is good fire, or a
creature created by God for my use and for my good. Yet I do not mean to
attribute any moral goodness to the fire, nor give any moral praise to
it, as if it were in the power of the fire itself either to communicate
its heat or to suspend it; but I praise first the Creator of the fire,
and then him who provided it. As for the praise which Velleius
Paterculus gives Cato, that he was good by nature, _et quia aliter esse
non potuit_; it hath more of the orator, than either of the theologian
or philosopher in it. Man in the state of innocency did fall and become
evil; what privilege hath Cato more than he? No, by his leave. _Narratur
et divi Catonis sæpe mero caluisse virtus._ But the true meaning is,
that he was naturally of a good temper, not so prone to some kinds of
vice as others were. This is to praise a thing, not an action,
naturally, not morally. Socrates was not of so good a natural temper,
yet proved as good a man; the more his praise, by how much the
difficulty was the more to conform his disorderly appetite to right
reason.

“Concerning reward and punishment, he saith not a word, but only that
they frame and conform the will to good, which hath been sufficiently
answered. They do so indeed; but if his opinion were true, they could
not do so. But because my aim is not only to answer T. H., but also to
satisfy myself, (_o_) though it be not urged by him, yet I do
acknowledge that I find some improper and analogical rewards and
punishments used to brute beasts, as the hunter rewards his dog, the
master of the decoy-duck whips her when she returns without company. And
if it be true, which he affirmeth a little before that I have confessed,
‘that the actions of brute beasts are all necessitated and determined to
that one thing which they shall do,’ the difficulty is increased.

“But first, my saying is misalleged. I said, that some kinds of actions
which are most excellent in brute beasts, and make the greatest show of
reason, as the bees working their honey, and the spiders weaving their
webs, are yet done without any consultation or deliberation, by a mere
instinct of nature, and by a determination of their fancies to these
only kinds of works. But I did never say, I could not say, that all
their individual actions are necessary, and antecedently determined in
their causes, as what days the bees shall fly abroad, and what days and
hours each bee shall keep in the hive, how often they shall fetch in
thyme on a day, and from whence. These actions and the like, though they
be not free, because brute beasts want reason to deliberate, yet they
are contingent, and therefore not necessary.

“Secondly, I do acknowledge, that as the fancies of some brute creatures
are determined by nature to some rare and exquisite works; so in others,
where it finds a natural propension, art, which is the imitator of
nature, may frame and form them according to the will of the artist to
some particular actions and ends, as we see in setting-dogs, and
coy-ducks, and parrots; and the principal means whereby they effect
this, is by their backs or by their bellies, by the rod or by the
morsel, which have indeed a shadow or resemblance of rewards and
punishments. But we take the word here properly, not as it is used by
vulgar people, but as it is used by divines and philosophers, for that
recompense which is due to honest and dishonest actions. Where there is
no moral liberty, there is neither honesty nor dishonesty, neither true
reward nor punishment.

“Thirdly, (_p_) when brute creatures do learn any such qualities, it is
not out of judgment, or deliberation, or discourse, by inferring or
concluding one thing from another, which they are not capable of.
Neither are they able to conceive a reason of what they do, but merely
out of memory or out of a sensitive fear or hope. They remember that
when they did after one manner, they were beaten; and when they did
after another manner, they were cherished; and accordingly they apply
themselves. But if their individual actions were absolutely necessary,
fear or hope could not alter them. Most certainly, if there be any
desert in it, or any praise due unto it, it is to them who did instruct
them.

Lastly, concerning arts, arms, books, instruments, study, physic, and
the like, he answereth not a word more than what is already satisfied.
And therefore I am silent.

            ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XIV.

(_a_) “The first inconvenience is thus pressed. Those laws are unjust
and tyrannical, which do prescribe things absolutely impossible in
themselves to be done, and punish men for not doing of them.”

I have already, in the beginning, where I recite the inconveniences that
follow the doctrine of necessity, made clear that the same
inconveniences follow not the doctrine of necessity, any more than they
follow this truth, _whatsoever shall be, shall be_, which all men must
confess; the same also followeth upon this, that _whatsoever God
foreknows, cannot but come to pass in such time and manner as he hath
foreknown it_. It is therefore evident that these inconveniences are not
rationally deduced from those tenets. Again, it is a truth manifest to
all men, that it is not in a man’s power to-day, to choose what will he
shall have to-morrow, or an hour, or any time after. Intervening
occasions, business, which the Bishop calls trifles, (trifles of which
the Bishop maketh here a great business), do change the will. No man can
say what he will do to-morrow, unless he foreknow, which no man can,
what shall happen before to-morrow. And this being the substance of my
opinion, it must needs be that when he deduceth from it, that counsels,
arts, arms, medicines, teachers, praise, prayer, and piety, are in vain,
that his deduction is false, and his ratiocination fallacy. And though I
need make no other answer to all that he can object against me, yet I
shall here mark out the causes of his several paralogisms.

“Those laws,” he saith, “are unjust and tyrannical, which do prescribe
things absolutely impossible to be done, and punish men for not doing of
them.” In which words this is one absurdity, that _a law can be unjust_;
for all laws are divine or civil, neither of which can be unjust. Of the
first there is no doubt. And as for civil laws, they are made by every
man that is subject to them; because every one of them consenteth to the
placing of the legislative power. Another is this, in the same words,
that he supposeth there may be laws that are tyrannical; for if he that
maketh them have the sovereign power, they may be regal, but not
tyrannical; if tyrant signify not King, as he thinks it doth not.
Another is in the same words, “that a law may prescribe things
absolutely impossible in themselves to be done.” When he says
_impossible in themselves_, he understands not what himself means.
_Impossible in themselves_ are contradictions only, as to be and not to
be at the same time, which the divines say is not possible to God. All
other things are possible at least in themselves. Raising from the dead,
changing the course of nature, making of a new heaven, and a new earth,
are things possible in themselves; for there is nothing in their nature
able to resist the will of God. And if laws do not prescribe such
things, why should I believe they prescribe other things that are more
impossible. Did he ever read in Suarez of any tyrant that made a law
commanding any man to do and not to do the same action, or to be and not
to be at the same place in one and the same moment of time. But out of
the doctrine of necessity, it followeth he says, that “all laws do
prescribe absolute impossibilities to be done.” Here he has left out _in
themselves_, which is a wilful fallacy.

He further says that “just laws are the ordinances of right reason;”
which is an error that hath cost many thousands of men their lives. Was
there ever a King, that made a law which in right reason had been better
unmade? And shall those laws therefore not be obeyed? Shall we rather
rebel? I think not, though I am not so great a divine as he. I think
rather that the reason of him that hath the sovereign authority, and by
whose sword we look to be protected both against war from abroad and
injuries at home, whether it be right or erroneous in itself, ought to
stand for right to us that have submitted ourselves thereunto by
receiving the protection.

But the Bishop putteth his greatest confidence in this, that whether the
things be impossible in themselves, or made impossible by some unseen
accident, yet there is no reason that men should be _punished for not
doing them_. It seems he taketh punishment for a kind of revenge, and
can never therefore agree with me, that take it for nothing else but for
a correction, or for an example, which hath for end the _framing_ and
_necessitating of the will_ to virtue; and that he is no good man, that
upon any provocation useth his power, though a power lawfully obtained,
to afflict another man without this end, to reform the will of him or
others. Nor can I comprehend, as having only humane ideas, that that
punishment which neither intendeth the correction of the offender, nor
the correction of others by example, doth proceed from God.

(_b_) “He saith that no law can possibly be unjust,” &c.

Against this he replies that the law of Pharaoh, to drown the male
children of the Israelites; and of Nebuchadnezzar, to worship the golden
image; and of Darius, against praying to any but him in thirty days; and
of Ahasuerus, to destroy the Jews; and of the Pharisees, to
excommunicate the confessors of Christ; were all unjust laws. The laws
of these kings, as they were laws, have relation only to the men that
were their subjects; and the _making_ of them, which was the action of
every one of those kings, who were subjects to another king, namely, to
God Almighty, had relation to the law of God. In the first relation,
there could be no injustice in them; because all laws made by him to
whom the people had given the legislative power, are the acts of every
one of that people; and no man can do injustice to himself. But in
relation to God, if God have by a law forbidden it, the making of such
laws is injustice. Which law of God was to those heathen princes no
other but _salus populi_, that is to say, the properest use of their
natural reason for the preservation of their subjects. If therefore
those laws were ordained out of wantonness, or cruelty, or envy, or for
the pleasing of a favourite, or out of any other sinister end, as it
seems they were, the making of those laws was unjust. But if in right
reason they were necessary for the preservation of those people of whom
they had undertaken the charge, then was it not unjust. And for the
Pharisees, who had the same written law of God that we have, their
excommunication of the Christians, proceeding, as it did, from envy, was
an act of malicious injustice. If it had proceeded from
misinterpretation of their own Scriptures, it had been a sin of
ignorance. Nevertheless, as it was a law to their subjects (in case they
had the legislative power, which I doubt of), the law was not unjust.
But the making of it was an unjust action, of which they were to give
account to none but God. I fear the Bishop will think this discourse too
subtile; but the judgment is the reader’s.

(_c_) “The ground of this error,” &c., “is this: that every man makes by
his consent the law which he is bound to keep,” &c.

The reason why he thinketh this an error, is because the positive law of
God, contained in the Bible, is a law without our assent; the law of
nature was written in our hearts by the finger of God without our
assent; the laws of conquerors, who come in by the power of the sword,
were made without our assent; and so were the laws of our ancestors,
which were made before we were born. It is a strange thing that he that
understands the nonsense of the Schoolmen, should not be able to
perceive so easy a truth as this which he denieth. The Bible is a law.
To whom? To all the world? He knows it is not. How came it then to be a
law to us? Did God speak it _viva voce_ to us? Have we then any other
warrant for it than the word of the prophets? Have we seen the miracles?
Have we any other assurance of their certainty than the authority of the
Church? And is the authority of the Church any other than the authority
of the commonwealth, or that of the commonwealth any other than that of
the head of the commonwealth, or hath the head of the commonwealth any
other authority than that which hath been given him by the members?
Else, why should not the Bible be canonical as well in Constantinople as
in any other place? They that have the legislative power make nothing
canon, which they make not law, nor law, which they make not canon. And
because the legislative power is from the assent of the subjects, the
Bible is made law by the assent of the subjects. It was not the Bishop
of Rome that made the Scripture law without his own temporal dominions;
nor is it the clergy that make it law in their dioceses and rectories.
Nor can it be a law of itself without special and supernatural
revelation. The Bishop thinks because the Bible is law, and he is
appointed to teach it to the people in his diocese, that therefore it is
law to whomsoever he teach it; which is somewhat gross, but not so gross
as to say that conquerors who come in by the power of the sword, make
their laws also without our assent. He thinks, belike, that if a
conqueror can kill me if he please, I am presently obliged without more
ado to obey all his laws. May not I rather die, if I think fit? The
conqueror makes no law over the conquered by virtue of his power; but by
virtue of their assent, that promised obedience for the saving of their
lives. But how then is the assent of the children obtained to the laws
of their ancestors? This also is from the desire of preserving their
lives, which first the parents might take away, where the parents be
free from all subjection; and where they are not, there the civil power
might do the same, if they doubted of their obedience. The children
therefore, when they be grown up to strength enough to do mischief, and
to judgment enough to know that other men are kept from doing mischief
to them by fear of the sword that protecteth them, in that very act of
receiving that protection, and not renouncing it openly, do oblige
themselves to obey the laws of their protectors; to which, in receiving
such protection, they have assented. And whereas he saith, the law of
nature is a law without our assent, it is absurd; for the law of nature
is the assent itself that all men give to the means of their own
preservation.

(_d_) “But his chiefest answer is, that an action forbidden, though it
proceed from necessary causes, yet if it were done willingly, may be
justly punished,” &c.

This the Bishop also understandeth not, and therefore denies it. He
would have the judge condemn no man for a crime, if it were
necessitated; as if the judge could know what acts are necessary, unless
he knew all that hath anteceded, both visible and invisible, and what
both every thing in itself, and altogether, can effect. It is enough to
the judge, that the act he condemneth be voluntary. The punishment
whereof may, if not capital, reform the will of the offender; if
capital, the will of others by example. For heat in one body doth not
more create heat in another, than the terror of an example createth fear
in another, who otherwise were inclined to commit injustice.

Some few lines before, he hath said that I built upon a wrong
foundation, namely, “that all magistrates were at first elective;” I had
forgot to tell you, that I never said nor thought it. And therefore his
reply, as to that point, is impertinent.

Not many lines after, for a reason why a man may not be justly punished
when his crime is voluntary, he offereth this: “that law is unjust and
tyrannical, which commands a man to will that which is impossible for
him to will.” Whereby it appears, he is of opinion that a law may be
made to command the will. The style of a law is _do this_, or _do not
this_; or, _if thou do this, thou shalt suffer this_; but no law runs
thus, _will this_, or _will not this_; or, _if thou have a will to this,
thou shalt suffer this_. He objecteth further, that I beg the question,
because no man’s will is necessitated. Wherein he mistakes; for I say no
more in that place, but that he that doth evil willingly, whether he be
necessarily willing, or not necessarily, may be justly punished. And
upon this mistake he runneth over again his former and already answered
nonsense, saying, “we ourselves, by our own negligence in not opposing
our passions when we should and might, have freely given them a kind of
dominion over us;” and again, _motus primo primi_, the first motions are
not always in our power. Which _motus primo primi_, signifies nothing;
and “our negligence in not opposing our passions,” is the same with “our
want of will to oppose our will,” which is absurd; and “that we have
given them a kind of dominion over us,” either signifies nothing, or
that we have a dominion over our wills, or our wills a dominion over us,
and consequently either we or our wills are not free.

(_e_) “He pleads moreover that the law is a cause of justice,” &c. “All
this is most true, of a just law justly executed.”

But I have shown that all laws are just, as laws, and therefore not to
be accused of injustice by those that owe subjection to them; and a just
law is always justly executed. Seeing then that he confesseth that all
that he replieth to here is true, it followeth that the reply itself,
where it contradicteth me, is false.

(_f_) “He addeth that the sufferings imposed by the law upon
delinquents, respect not the evil act passed, but the good to come; and
that the putting of a delinquent to death by the magistrate for any
crime whatsoever, cannot be justified before God, except there be a real
intention to benefit others by his example.”

This he neither confirmeth nor denieth, and yet forbeareth not to
discourse upon it to little purpose; and therefore I pass it over.

(_g_) “First he told us, that it was the irresistible power of God that
justifies all his actions; though he command one thing openly, and plot
another thing secretly; though he be the cause not only of the action,
but also of the irregularity, &c.”

To all this, which hath been pressed before, I have answered before; but
that he says I say, “having commanded one thing openly, he plots another
thing secretly,” it is not mine, but one of his own ugly phrases. And
the force it hath, proceeded out of an apprehension he hath, that
affliction is not God’s correction, but his revenge upon the creatures
of his own making; and from a reasoning he useth, “because it is not
just in a man to kill one man for the amendment of another, therefore
neither is it so in God;” not remembering that God hath, or shall have
killed all the men in the world, both nocent and innocent.

My assertion, he saith, “is a dream, and the sum of it this; that where
there is no law, there no killing or anything else can be unjust; that
before the constitution of commonwealths, every man had power to kill
another,” &c., and adds, that “this may well be called stringing of
paradoxes.” To these my words he replies:

(_h_) “There was never any time when mankind was without governors,
laws, and societies.”

It is very likely to be true, that since the creation there never was a
time in which mankind was totally without society. If a part of it were
without laws and governors, some other parts might be commonwealths. He
saw there was paternal government in Adam; which he might do easily, as
being no deep consideration. But in those places where there is a civil
war at any time, at the same time there is neither laws, nor
commonwealth, nor society, but only a temporal league, which every
discontented soldier may depart from when he pleases, as being entered
into by each man for his private interest, without any obligation of
conscience: there are therefore almost at all times multitudes of
lawless men. But this was a little too remote from his understanding to
perceive. Again, he denies, that ever there was a time when one private
man might lawfully kill another for his own preservation; and has
forgotten that these words of his (No. II.), “this is the belief of all
mankind, which we have not learned from our tutors, but is imprinted in
our hearts by nature; we need not turn over any obscure books to find
out this truth,” &c.; which are the words of Cicero in the defence of
Milo, and translated by the Bishop to the defence of free-will, were
used by Cicero to prove this very thing, that it is and hath been always
lawful for one private man to kill another for his own preservation. But
where he saith it is not lawful _ordinarily_, he should have shown some
particular case wherein it is unlawful. For seeing it is a “belief
imprinted in our hearts,” not only I, but many more are apt to think it
is the law of nature, and consequently universal and eternal. And where
he saith, this right of defence where it is, “is not a remainder of some
greater power which they have resigned, but a privilege which God hath
given them in case of extreme danger and invincible necessity,” &c.; I
also say it is a privilege which God hath given them, but we differ in
the manner how; which to me seems this, that God doth not account such
killing sin. But the Bishop it seems would have it thus: God sends a
bishop into the pulpit to tell the people it is lawful for a man to kill
another man when it is necessary for the preservation of his own life;
of which necessity, that is, whether it be _invincible_, or whether the
danger be _extreme_, the bishop shall be the judge after the man is
killed, as being a case of conscience. Against the resigning of this our
general power of killing our enemies, he argues thus: “Nothing can give
that which it never had; the people whilst they were a dispersed rabble,
which in some odd cases might happen to be, never had justly the power
of life and death, and therefore they could not give it by their
election,” &c. Needs there much acuteness to understand, what number of
men soever there be, though not united into government, that every one
of them in particular having a right to destroy whatsoever he thinketh
can annoy him, may not resign the same right, and give it to whom he
please, when he thinks it conducible to his preservation? And yet it
seems he has not understood it.

He takes it ill that I compare the “murdering of men with the
slaughtering of brute beasts:” as also a little before, he says, “my
opinion reflects too much upon the honour of mankind: the elements are
for the plants, the plants for the brute beasts, and the brute beasts
for man.” I pray, when a lion eats a man, and a man eats an ox, why is
the ox more made for the man, than the man for the lion? “Yes,” he
saith, “God gave man liberty (Gen. ix. 3) to eat the flesh of the
creatures for his sustenance.” True, but the lion had the liberty to eat
the flesh of man long before. But he will say, no; pretending that no
man of any nation, or at any time, could lawfully eat flesh, unless he
had this licence of holy Scripture, which it was impossible for most men
to have. But how would he have been offended, if I had said of man as
Pliny doth: “_quo nullum est animal neque miserius, neque superbius_?”
The truth is, that man is a creature of greater power than other living
creatures are, but his advantages do consist especially in two things:
whereof one is the use of speech, by which men communicate one with
another, and join their forces together, and by which also they register
their thoughts that they perish not, but be reserved, and afterwards
joined with other thoughts, to produce general rules for the direction
of their actions. There be beasts that see better, others that hear
better, and others that exceed mankind in other senses. Man excelleth
beasts only in making of rules to himself, that is to say, in
remembering, and in reasoning aright upon that which he remembereth.
They which do so, deserve an honour above brute beasts. But they which
mistaking the use of words, deceive themselves and others, introducing
error, and seducing men from the truth, are so much less to be honoured
than brute beasts, as error is more vile than ignorance. So that it is
not merely the nature of man, that makes him worthier than other living
creatures, but the knowledge that he acquires by meditation, and by the
right use of reason in making good rules of his future actions. The
other advantage a man hath, is the use of his hands for the making of
those things which are instrumental to his well-being. But this
advantage is not a matter of so great honour, but that a man may speak
negligently of it without offence. And for the dominion that a man hath
over beasts, he saith, “it is lost in part for the sin of man, because
the strongest creatures, as lions and bears, have withdrawn their
obedience; but the most profitable and useful creatures, as sheep and
oxen, do in some degree retain their obedience.” I would ask the Bishop,
in what consisteth the dominion of man over a lion or a bear. Is it in
an obligation of promise, or of debt? That cannot be; for they have no
sense of debt or duty. And I think he will not say, that they have
received a command to obey him from authority. It resteth therefore that
the dominion of man consists in this, that men are too hard for lions
and bears, because, though a lion or a bear be stronger than a man, yet
the strength, and art, and especially the leaguing and societies of men,
are a greater power than the ungoverned strength of unruly beasts. In
this it is that consisteth this dominion of man. And for the same reason
when a hungry lion meeteth an unarmed man in a desert, the lion hath the
dominion over the man, if that of man over lions, or over sheep and
oxen, may be called dominion, which properly it cannot; nor can it be
said that sheep and oxen do otherwise obey us, than they would do a
lion. And if we have dominion over sheep and oxen, we exercise it not as
dominion, but as hostility; for we keep them only to labour, and to be
killed and devoured by us; so that lions and bears would be as good
masters to them as we are. By this short passage of his concerning
_dominion_ and _obedience_, I have no reason to expect a very shrewd
answer from him to my _Leviathan_.

(_i_) “The next branch of his answer concerns consultations, which,
saith he, ‘are not superfluous, though all things come to pass
necessarily; because they are the cause which doth necessitate the
effect, and the means to bring it to pass.’”

His reply to this is, that he hath “showed sufficiently, that reason
doth not determine the will physically,” &c. If not physically, how
then? As he hath told us in another place, _morally_. But what it is to
determine a thing morally, no man living understands. I doubt not but he
had therefore the will to write this reply, _because_ I had answered his
treatise concerning true liberty. My answer therefore was, at least in
part, the _cause_ of his writing; yet that is the cause of the nimble
local motion of his fingers. Is not the cause of local motion physical?
His will therefore was physically, and extrinsically, and antecedently,
and not morally caused by my writing.

(_k_) “He adds further that ‘as the end is necessary, so are the means,
and when it is determined that one thing shall be chosen before another,
it is determined also for what cause it shall be so chosen.’ All which
is truth, but not the whole truth,” &c.

Is it not enough that it is truth? Must I put all the truth I know into
two or three lines? No. I should have added, that God doth adapt and fit
the means to their respective ends, free means to free ends, contingent
means to contingent ends, necessary means to necessary ends. It may be I
would have done so, but for shame. _Free_, _contingent_ and _necessary_
are not words that can be joined to _means_ or _ends_, but to _agents_
and _actions_; that is to say, to things that move or are moved: a _free
agent_ being that whose motion or action is not hindered or stopped, and
a _free action_, that which is produced by a free agent. A _contingent
agent_ is the same with an _agent_ simply. But, because men for the most
part think those things are produced without cause, whereof they do not
see the cause, they use to call both the agent and the action
contingent, as attributing it to fortune. And therefore, when the causes
are necessary, if they perceive not the necessity, they call those
necessary agents and actions, in things that have appetite, _free_; and
in things inanimate, _contingent_. The rest of his reply to this point
is very little of it applied to my answer. I note only that where he
says, “but if God have so ordered the world, that a man cannot, _if he
would_, neglect any means of good, &c.;” he would fraudulently insinuate
that it is my opinion, that a man is not _free to do if he will, and to
abstain if he will_. Whereas from the beginning I have often declared
that it is none of my opinion; and that my opinion is only this, that he
is not _free to will_, or which is all one, he is not master of his
future will. After much unorderly discourse he comes in with “this is
the doctrine that flows from this opinion of absolute necessity;” which
is impertinent; seeing nothing flows from it more than may be drawn from
the confession of an eternal prescience.

(_l_) “But he tells me in great sadness, that ‘my argument is no better
than this; if I shall live till to-morrow, I shall live till to-morrow,
though I run myself through with a sword to-day; which, saith he, is a
false consequence, and a false proposition.’ Truly, if by running
through, he understand killing, it is a false or rather a foolish
proposition.” He saith right. Let us therefore see how it is not like to
his. He says, “if it be absolutely necessary that a man shall live till
to-morrow, then it is vain and superfluous for him to consult whether he
should die to-day or not.” “And this,” he says, “is a true consequence.”
I cannot perceive how it is a better consequence than the former; for if
it be absolutely necessary that a man should live till to-morrow, and in
health, which may also be supposed, why should he not, if he have the
curiosity, have his head cut off to try what pain it is. But the
consequence is false; for if there be a necessity of his living, it is
necessary also that he shall not have so foolish a curiosity. But he
cannot yet distinguish between a seen and an unseen necessity, and that
is the cause he believeth his consequence to be good.

(_m_) “The next branch of my argument concerns admonitions,” &c.

Which he says is this: “If all things be necessary, then it is to no
more purpose to admonish men of understanding, than fools, children, or
madmen; but that they do admonish the one and not the other, is
confessedly true; and no reason under heaven can be given for it but
this, that the former have the use of reason and true liberty, with a
dominion over their own actions, which children, fools, and madmen have
not.”

The true reason why we admonish men and not children, &c., is because
admonition is nothing else but telling a man the good and evil
consequences of his actions. They who have experience of good and evil,
can better perceive the reasonableness of such admonition, than they
that have not; and such as have like passions to those of the admonitor,
do more easily conceive that to be good or bad which the admonitor saith
is so, than they who have great passions, and such as are contrary to
his. The first, which is want of experience, maketh children and fools
unapt; and the second, which is strength of passion, maketh madmen
unwilling to receive admonition; for children are ignorant, and madmen
in an error, concerning what is good or evil for themselves. This is not
to say children and madmen want true liberty, that is, the liberty to do
as they will, nor to say that men of judgment, or the admonitor himself
hath a dominion over his own actions, more than children or madmen, (for
their actions are also voluntary), or that when he admonisheth he hath
always the use of reason, though he have the use of deliberation, which
children, fools, madmen, and beasts also have. There be, therefore,
reasons under heaven which the Bishop knows not of.

Whereas I had said, that things necessary may be praiseworthy, and to
praise a thing is to say it is good, he distinguisheth and saith:

(_n_) “True, but this goodness is not a metaphysical goodness; so
whatsoever hath a being is good; nor a natural goodness; the praise of
it passeth wholly to the Author of nature, &c.; but a moral goodness, or
a goodness of actions, rather than of things. The moral goodness of an
action is the conformity of it to right reason,” &c.

There hath been in the Schools derived from _Aristotle’s Metaphysics_,
an old proverb rather than an axiom: _ens, bonum, et verum
convertuntur_. From hence the Bishop hath taken this notion of a
metaphysical goodness, and his doctrine that whatsoever hath a being is
good; and by this interpreteth the words of Gen. i. 31: _God saw all
that he had made, and it was very good_. But the reason of those words
is, that _good_ is relative to those that are pleased with it, and not
of absolute signification to all men. God therefore saith, that all that
he had made was very good, because he was pleased with the creatures of
his own making. But if all things were absolutely good, we should be all
pleased with their _being_, which we are not, when the actions that
depend upon their being are hurtful to us. And therefore, to speak
properly, nothing is good or evil but in regard of the action that
proceedeth from it, and also of the person to whom it doth good or hurt.
Satan is evil to us, because he seeketh our destruction, but good to
God, because he executeth his commandments. And so his _metaphysical
goodness_ is but an idle term, and not the member of a distinction. And
as for natural goodness and evilness, that also is but the goodness and
evilness of actions; as some herbs are good because they nourish, others
evil because they poison us; and one horse is good because he is gentle,
strong, and carrieth a man easily; another bad, because he resisteth,
goeth hard, or otherwise displeaseth us; and that quality of gentleness,
if there were no more laws amongst men than there is amongst beasts,
would be as much a moral good in a horse or other beast as in a man. It
is the law from whence proceeds the difference between the moral and the
natural goodness: so that it is well enough said by him, that “moral
goodness is the conformity of an action with right reason”; and better
said than meant; for this _right reason_, which is the law, is no
otherwise certainly right than by our making it so by our approbation of
it and voluntary subjection to it. For the law-makers are men, and may
err, and think that law, which they make, is for the good of the people
sometimes when it is not. And yet the actions of subjects, if they be
conformable to the law, are morally good, and yet cease not to be
naturally good; and the praise of them passeth to the Author of nature,
as well as of any other good whatsoever. From whence it appears that
moral praise is not, as he says, from the good use of liberty, but from
obedience to the laws; nor moral dispraise from the bad use of liberty,
but from disobedience to the laws. And for his consequence, “if all
things be necessary, then moral liberty is quite taken away, and with it
all true praise and dispraise”, there is neither truth in it, nor
argument offered for it; for there is nothing more necessary than the
consequence of _voluntary_ actions to the _will_. And whereas I had
said, that to say a thing is good, is to say it is as I or another would
wish, or as the state would have it, or according to the law of the
land, he answers, that “I mistake infinitely”. And his reason is,
because “we often wish what is profitable or delightful, without
regarding as we ought what is honest”. There is no man living that seeth
all the consequences of an action from the beginning to the end, whereby
to weigh the whole sum of the good with the whole sum of the evil
consequence. We choose no further than we can weigh. That is good to
every man, which is so far good as he can see. All the real good, which
we call honest and morally virtuous, is that which is not repugnant to
the law, civil or natural; for the law is all the right reason we have,
and, (though he, as often as it disagreeth with his own reason, deny
it), is the infallible rule of moral goodness. The reason whereof is
this, that because neither mine nor the Bishop’s reason is right reason
fit to be a rule of our moral actions, we have therefore set up over
ourselves a sovereign governor, and agreed that his laws shall be unto
us, whatsoever they be, in the place of right reason, to dictate to us
what is really good. In the same manner as men in playing turn up trump,
and as in playing their game their morality consisteth in not
renouncing, so in our civil conversation our morality is all contained
in not disobeying of the laws.

To my question, “whether nothing could please him, that proceeded from
necessity”, he answers: “yes; the fire pleaseth him when he is cold, and
he says it is good fire, but does not praise it morally”. He praiseth,
he says, first the Creator of the fire, and then him who provided it. He
does well; yet he praiseth the fire when he saith it is good, though not
morally. He does not say it is a just fire, or a wise, or a
well-mannered fire, obedient to the laws; but these attributes it seems
he gives to God, as if justice were not of his nature, but of his
manners. And in praising morally him that provided it, he seems to say,
he would not say the fire was good, if he were not morally good that did
provide it.

To that which I had answered concerning reward and punishment, he hath
replied, he says, sufficiently before, and that that which he
discourseth here, is not only to answer me, but also to satisfy himself,
and saith:

(_o_) “Though it be not urged by him, yet I do acknowledge that I find
some improper and analogical rewards and punishments, used to brute
beasts, as the hunter rewards his dog,” &c.

For my part, I am too dull to perceive the difference between those
rewards used to brute beasts, and those that are used to men. If they be
not properly called rewards and punishments, let him give them their
proper name. It may be he will say, he has done it in calling them
_analogical_; yet for any thing that can be understood thereby, he might
have called them _paragogical_, or _typical_, or _topical_, if he had
pleased. He adds further, that whereas he had said that the actions of
bees and spiders were done without consultation, by mere instinct of
nature, and by a determination of their fancies, I misallege him, and
say he made their individual actions necessary. I have only this to
answer, that, seeing he says that by instinct of nature their fancies
were determined to special kinds of works, I might justly infer they
were determined every one of them to some work; and every work is an
individual action; for _a kind of work_ in the general, is no work. But
these their individual actions, he saith, “are contingent, and therefore
not necessary”; which is no good consequence: for if he mean by
_contingent_, that which has no cause, he speaketh not as a Christian,
but maketh a Deity of fortune; which I verily think he doth not. But if
he mean by it, that whereof he knoweth not the cause, the consequence is
nought.

The means whereby setting-dogs, and coy-ducks, and parrots, are taught
to do what they do, “is by their backs, by their bellies, by the rod, or
by the morsel, which have indeed a shadow or resemblance of rewards and
punishments: but we take the word here properly, not as it is used by
vulgar people, but as it is used by divines and philosophers,” &c. Does
not the Bishop know that the belly hath taught poets, and historians,
and divines, and philosophers, and artificers, their several arts, as
well as parrots? Do not men do their duty with regard to their backs, to
their necks, and to their morsels, as well as setting-dogs, coy-ducks,
and parrots? Why then are these things to us the substance, and to them
but the _shadow_ or _resemblance_ of rewards or punishments?

(_p_) “When brute creatures do learn any such qualities, it is not out
of judgment or deliberation or discourse, by inferring or concluding one
thing from another, which they are not capable of; neither are they able
to conceive a reason of what they do,” &c.: but “they remember that when
they did after one manner, they were beaten, and when they did after
another manner, they were cherished; and accordingly they apply
themselves.”

If the Bishop had considered the cogitations of his own mind, not then
when he disputeth, but then when he followed those businesses which he
calleth trifles, he would have found them the very same which he here
mentioneth; saving instead of _beating_, (because he is exempt from
that), he is to put _in damage_. For, setting aside the discourse of the
tongue in words of general signification, the ideas of our minds are the
same with those of other living creatures, created from visible,
audible, and other sensible objects to the eyes and other organs of
sense, as their’s are. For as the objects of sense are all individual,
that is, singular, so are all the fancies proceeding from their
operations; and men reason not but in words of universal signification,
uttered or tacitly thought on. But perhaps he thinketh remembrance of
words to be the ideas of those things which the words signify; and that
all fancies are not effected by the operation of objects upon the organs
of our senses. But to rectify him in those points is greater labour
(unless he had better principles) than I am willing, or have at this
time leisure, to undergo.

Lastly, whereas he says, “if their individual actions were absolutely
necessary, fear or hope could not alter them”: that is true. For it is
fear and hope, that makes them necessarily what they are.

                                NO. XV.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Thirdly, let this opinion be once radicated in the minds of
men, that there is no true liberty, and that all things come to pass
inevitably, and it will utterly destroy the study of piety. Who will
bewail his sins with tears? What will become of that grief, that zeal,
that indignation, that holy revenge, which the Apostle speaks of, if men
be once thoroughly persuaded that they could not shun what they did? A
man may grieve for that which he could not help; but he will never be
brought to bewail that as his own fault, which flowed not from his own
error, but from antecedent necessity. Who will be careful or solicitous
to perform obedience, that believeth there are inevitable bounds and
limits set to all his devotions, which he can neither go beyond, nor
come short of? To what end shall he pray God to avert those evils which
are inevitable, or to confer those favours which are impossible? We
indeed know not what good or evil shall happen to us: but this we know,
that if all things be necessary, our devotions and endeavours cannot
alter that which must be. In a word, the only reason why those persons,
who tread in this path of fatal destiny, do sometimes pray, or repent,
or serve God, is because the light of nature, and the strength of
reason, and the evidence of Scripture, do for that present transport
them from their ill-chosen grounds, and expel those stoical fancies out
of their heads. A complete Stoic can neither pray, nor repent, nor serve
God to any purpose. Either allow liberty, or destroy Church as well as
commonwealth, religion as well as policy.”

_T. H._ His third argument consisteth in other inconveniences which he
saith will follow, namely, impiety and negligence of religious duties,
repentance and zeal to God’s service. To which I answer, as to the rest,
that they follow not. I must confess, if we consider the far greatest
part of mankind, not as they should be, but as they are, that is, as men
whom either the study of acquiring wealth or preferments, or whom the
appetite of sensual delights, or the impatience of meditating, or the
rash embracing of wrong principles, have made unapt to discuss the truth
of things, that the dispute of this question will rather hurt than help
their piety. And therefore, if he had not desired this answer, I would
not have written it. Nor do I write it, but in hope your Lordship and he
will keep it private. Nevertheless, in very truth, the necessity of
events does not of itself draw with it any impiety at all. For piety
consisteth only in two things; one, that we honour God in our hearts,
which is, that we think of his power as highly as we can: for to honour
any thing, is nothing else but to think it to be of great power. The
other, that we signify that honour and esteem by our words and actions,
which is called _cultus_ or worship of God. He therefore, that thinketh
that all things proceed from God’s eternal will, and consequently are
necessary, does he not think God omnipotent? does he not esteem of his
power as highly as is possible; which is to honour God as much as can be
in his heart? Again, he that thinketh so, is he not more apt by external
acts and words to acknowledge it, than he that thinketh otherwise? Yet
is this external acknowledgment the same thing which we call worship. So
this opinion fortifieth piety in both kinds, externally and internally,
and therefore is far from destroying it. And for repentance, which is
nothing but a glad returning into the right way after the grief of being
out of the way, though the cause that made him go astray were necessary,
yet there is no reason why he should not grieve; and again, though the
cause why he returned into the way were necessary, there remain still
the causes of joy. So that the necessity of the actions taketh away
neither of those parts of repentance, grief for the error, nor joy for
the returning. And for prayer, whereas he saith that the necessity of
things destroys prayer, I deny it. For though prayer be none of the
causes that move God’s will, his will being unchangeable, yet since we
find in God’s word, he will not give his blessings but to those that ask
them, the motive to prayer is the same. Prayer is the gift of God, no
less than the blessings. And the prayer is decreed together in the same
decree wherein the blessing is decreed. It is manifest, that
thanksgiving is no cause of the blessing passed; and that which is
passed, is sure and necessary. Yet even amongst men, thanks are in use
as an acknowledgment of the benefit past, though we should expect no new
benefit for our gratitude. And prayer to God Almighty is but
thanksgiving for his blessings in general; and though it precede the
particular thing we ask, yet it is not a cause or means of it, but a
signification that we expect nothing but from God, in such manner as He,
not as we will. And our Saviour by word of mouth bids us pray, “thy
will, not our will be done”; and by example teaches us the same; for he
prayed thus: _Father, if it be thy will, let this cup pass_, &c. The end
of prayer, as of thanksgiving, is not to move, but to honour God
Almighty, in acknowledging that what we ask can be effected by Him only.

_J. D._ “I hope T. H. will be persuaded in time, that it is not the
coveteousness, or ambition, or sensuality, or sloth, or prejudice of his
readers, which render this doctrine of absolute necessity dangerous, but
that it is, in its own nature, destructive to true godliness; (_a_) and
though his answer consist more of oppositions than of solutions, yet I
will not willingly leave one grain of his matter unweighed. (_b_) First,
he errs in making inward piety to consist merely in the estimation of
the judgment. If this were so, what hinders but that the devils should
have as much inward piety as the best Christians? For they esteem God’s
power to be infinite, and tremble. Though inward piety do suppose the
act of the understanding, yet it consisteth properly in the act of the
will, being that branch of justice which gives to God the honour which
is due unto him. Is there no love due to God, no faith, no hope? (_c_)
Secondly, he errs in making inward piety to ascribe no glory to God, but
only the glory of his power or omnipotence. What shall become of all
other the Divine attributes, and particularly of his goodness, of his
truth, of his justice, of his mercy, which beget a more true and sincere
honour in the heart than greatness itself? _Magnos facile laudamus,
bonos lubenter._ (_d_) Thirdly, this opinion of absolute necessity
destroys the truth of God, making him to command one thing openly, and
to necessitate another privately; to chide a man for doing that which he
hath determined him to do; to profess one thing, and to intend another.
It destroys the goodness of God, making him to be a hater of mankind,
and to delight in the torments of his creatures; whereas the very dogs
licked the sores of Lazarus, in pity and commiseration of him. It
destroys the justice of God, making him to punish the creatures for that
which was his own act, which they had no more power to shun, than the
fire hath power not to burn. It destroys the very power of God, making
him to be the true author of all the defects and evils which are in the
world. These are the fruits of impotence, not of omnipotence. He who is
the effective cause of sin, either in himself or in the creature, is not
almighty. There needs no other devil in the world to raise jealousies
and suspicions between God and his creatures, or to poison mankind with
an apprehension that God doth not love them, but only this opinion,
which was the office of the serpent (Gen. iii. 5). Fourthly, for the
outward worship of God; (_e_) how shall a man praise God for his
goodness, who believes him to be a greater tyrant than ever was in the
world; who creates millions to burn eternally, without their fault, to
express his power? How shall a man hear the word of God with that
reverence, and devotion, and faith, which is requisite, who believeth
that God causeth his gospel to be preached to the much greater part of
Christians, not with any intention that they should be converted and
saved, but merely to harden their hearts, and to make them inexcusable?
How shall a man receive the blessed sacrament with comfort and
confidence, as a seal of God’s love in Christ, who believeth that so
many millions are positively excluded from all fruit and benefit of the
passions of Christ, before they had done either good or evil? How shall
he prepare himself with care and conscience, who apprehendeth that
eating and drinking unworthily is not the cause of damnation, but,
because God would damn a man, therefor he necessitates him to eat and
drink unworthily? How shall a man make a free vow to God without gross
ridiculous hypocrisy, who thinks he is able to perform nothing but as he
is extrinsically necessitated? Fifthly, for repentance, how shall a man
condemn and accuse himself for his sins, who thinks himself to be like a
watch which is wound up by God, and that he can go neither longer nor
shorter, faster nor slower, truer nor falser, than he is ordered by God?
If God sets him right, he goes right; if God sets him wrong, he goes
wrong. How can a man be said to return into the right way, who never was
in any other way but that which God himself had chalked out for him?
What is his purpose to amend, who is destitute of all power, but as if a
man should purpose to fly without wings, or a beggar who hath not a
groat in his purse, purpose to build hospitals?

“We use to say, admit one absurdity, and a thousand will follow. To
maintain this unreasonable opinion of absolute necessity, he is
necessitated (but it is hypothetically, he might change his opinion if
he would) to deal with all ancient writers as the Goths did with the
Romans, who destroyed all their magnificent works, that there might
remain no monument of their greatness upon the face of the earth.
Therefore he will not leave so much as one of their opinions, nor one of
their definitions, nay, not one of their terms of art standing. (_f_)
Observe what a description he hath given us here of repentance: ‘it is a
glad returning into the right way, after the grief of being out of the
way’. It amazed me to find _gladness_ to be the first word in the
description of repentance. His repentance is not that repentance, nor
his piety that piety, nor his prayer that kind of prayer, which the
Church of God in all ages hath acknowledged. Fasting, and sackcloth, and
ashes, and tears, and _humicubations_, used to be companions of
repentance. Joy may be a consequent of it, not a part of it. (_g_) It is
a _returning_: but whose act is this returning? Is it God’s alone, or
doth the penitent person concur also freely with the grace of God? If it
be God’s alone, then it is his repentance, not man’s repentance. What
need the penitent person trouble himself about it? God will take care of
his own work. The Scriptures teach us otherwise, that God expects our
concurrence (Revel. iii. 19, 20): _Be zealous and repent: behold I stand
at the door and knock; if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I
will come in to him_. It is a ‘glad returning into the right way’. Why
dare any man call that a wrong way, which God himself hath determined?
He that willeth and doth that which God would have him to will and to
do, is never out of his right way. It follows in his description, _after
the grief_, &c. It is true, a man may grieve for that which is
necessarily imposed upon him; but he cannot grieve for it as a fault of
his own, if it never was in his power to shun it. Suppose a
writingmaster shall hold his scholar’s hand in his, and write with it;
the scholar’s part is only to hold still his hand, whether the master
write well or ill; the scholar hath no ground either of joy or sorrow,
as for himself; no man will interpret it to be his act, but his
master’s. It is no fault to be out of the right way, if a man had not
liberty to have kept himself in the way.

“And so from _repentance_ he skips quite over _new obedience_ to come to
_prayer_, which is the last religious duty insisted upon by me here. But
according to his use, without either answering or mentioning what I say;
which would have showed him plainly what kind of prayer I intend, not
contemplative prayer in general, as it includes thanksgiving, but that
most proper kind of prayer which we call _petition_, which used to be
thus defined, to be an act of religion by which we desire of God
something which we have not, and hope that we shall obtain it by him;
quite contrary to this, T. H. tells us, (_h_) that prayer ‘is not a
cause nor a means of God’s blessing, but only a signification that we
expect it from him’. If he had told us only, that prayer is not a
meritorious cause of God’s blessings, as the poor man by begging an alms
doth not deserve it, I should have gone along with him. But to tell us,
that it is not so much as a means to procure God’s blessing, and yet
with the same breath, that ‘God will not give his blessings but to those
who pray’, who shall reconcile him to himself? The Scriptures teach us
otherwise, (John xvi. 23): _Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my
name, he will give it you_: (Matth. vii. 7): _Ask, and it shall be given
you, seek, and ye shal find, knock, and it shall be opened unto you_.
St. Paul tells the Corinthians (2 Cor. i. 11), that he was _helped by
their prayers_: that is not all; that _the gift was bestowed upon him by
their means_. So prayer is a means. And St. James saith (chap. v. 16):
_The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much_. If it
be _effectual_, then it is a cause. To show this efficacy of prayer, our
Saviour useth the comparison of a father towards his child, of a
neighbour towards his neighbour; yea, of an unjust judge, to shame those
who think that God hath not more compassion than a wicked man. This was
signified by Jacob’s wrestling and prevailing with God. Prayer is like
the tradesman’s tools, wherewithal he gets his living for himself and
his family. But, saith he, ‘God’s will is unchangeable’. What then? He
might as well use this against study, physic, and all second causes, as
against prayer. He shows even in this, how little they attribute to the
endeavours of men. There is a great difference between these two:
_mutare voluntatem_, to change the will; (which God never doth, in whom
there is not the least shadow of turning by change; his will to love and
hate was the same from eternity, which it now is and ever shall be; his
love and hatred are immovable, but we are removed; _non tellus cymbam,
tellurem cymba reliquit_); and _velle mutationem_, to will a change;
which God often doth. To change the will, argues a change in the agent;
but to will a change, only argues a change in the object. It is no
inconstancy in a man to love or to hate as the object is changed.
_Præsta mihi omnia eadem, et idem sum._ Prayer works not upon God, but
us; it renders not him more propitious in himself, but us more capable
of mercy. He saith this, ‘that God doth not bless us, except we pray, is
a motive to prayer’. Why talks he of motives, who acknowledgeth no
liberty, nor admits any cause but absolutely necessary? He saith,
‘prayer is the gift of God, no less than the blessing which we pray for,
and contained in the same decree with the blessing’. It is true, the
spirit of prayer is the gift of God. Will he conclude from thence, that
the good employment of one talent, or of one gift of God, may not
procure another? Our Saviour teacheth us otherwise: _Come thou good and
faithful servant, thou hast been faithful in little, I will make thee
ruler over much_. Too much light is an enemy to the sight, and too much
law is an enemy to justice. I could wish we wrangled less about God’s
decrees, until we understood them better. But, saith he, ‘thanksgiving
is no cause of the blessing past, and prayer is but a thanksgiving’. He
might even as well tell me, that when a beggar craves an alms, and when
he gives thanks for it, it is all one. Every thanksgiving is a kind of
prayer, but every prayer, and namely petition, is not a thanksgiving. In
the last place he urgeth, that ‘in our prayers we are bound to submit
our wills to God’s will.’ Who ever made any doubt of this? We must
submit to the preceptive will of God, or his commandments; we must
submit to the effective will of God, when he declares his good pleasure
by the event or otherwise. But we deny, and deny again, either that God
wills things _ad extra_, without himself, necessarily, or that it is his
pleasure that all second causes should act necessarily at all times;
which is the question, and that which he allegeth to the contrary comes
not near it.

             ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XV.

(_a_) “And though his answer consist more of oppositions than of
solutions, yet I will not willingly leave one grain of his matter
unweighed.”

It is a promise of great exactness, and like to that which is in his
Epistle to the Reader: “Here is all that passed between us upon this
subject, without any addition or the least variation from the original,”
&c.: which promises were both needless, and made out of gallantry; and
therefore he is the less pardonable in case they be not very rigidly
observed. I would therefore have the reader to consider, whether these
words of mine: “our Saviour bids us pray, _thy will_, not _our_ will,
_be done_, and by example teaches us the same; for he prayed thus:
_Father, if it be thy will let this cup pass_,” &c.: which seem at least
to imply that our prayers cannot change the will of God, nor divert him
from his eternal decree: have been weighed by him to a grain, according
to his promise. Nor hath he kept his other promise any better; for (No.
VIII.) replying to these words of mine, “if he had so little to do as to
be a spectator of the actions of bees and spiders, he would have
confessed not only election, but also art, prudence, and policy in
them,” &c., he saith, “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”. This passage is
added to that which passed between us upon this subject; for it is not
in the copy which I have had by me, as himself confesseth, these eight
years; nor is it in the body of the copy he sent to the press, but only
in the margin, that is to say, added out of anger against me, whom he
would have men think to be one of the bold-faced atheists of this age.

In the rest of this reply he endeavoureth to prove, that it followeth
from my opinion, that there is no use of piety. My opinion is no more
than this, that a man cannot so determine to-day, the will which he
shall have to the doing of any action to-morrow, as that it may not be
changed by some external accident or other, as there shall appear more
or less advantage to make him persevere in the will to the same action,
or to will it no more. When a man intendeth to pay a debt at a certain
time, if he see that the detaining of the money for a little longer may
advantage himself, and seeth no other disadvantage equivalent likely to
follow upon the detention, he hath his will changed by the advantage,
and therefore had not determined his will himself; but when he foreseeth
discredit or perhaps imprisonment, then his will remaineth the same, and
is determined by the thoughts he hath of his creditor, who is therefore
an external cause of the determination of the debtor’s will. This is so
evident to all men living, though they never studied school-divinity,
that it will be very strange if he draw from it the great impiety he
pretends to do. Again, my opinion is only this: that whatsoever God
foreknows shall come to pass, it cannot possibly be that that shall not
come to pass; but that which cannot possibly not come to pass, that is
said by all men to come to pass necessarily; therefore all events that
God foreknows shall come to pass, shall come to pass necessarily. If
therefore the Bishop draw impiety from this, he falleth into the impiety
of denying God’s prescience. Let us see now how he reasoneth.

(_b_) “First, he errs in making inward piety to consist merely in the
estimation of the judgment. If this were so, what hinders but that the
devils should have as much inward piety as the best Christians; for they
esteem God’s power to be infinite, and tremble?”

I said, that two things concurred to _piety_; one, to esteem his power
as highly as is possible; the other, that we signify that estimation by
our words and actions, that is to say, that we worship him. This latter
part of piety he leaveth out; and then, it is much more easy to conclude
as he doth, that the devils may have inward piety. But neither so doth
the conclusion follow. For goodness is one of God’s powers, namely, that
power by which he worketh in men the hope they have in him; and is
relative; and therefore, unless the devil think that God will be good to
him, he cannot esteem him for his goodness. It does not therefore follow
from any opinion of mine, that the devil may have as much inward piety
as a Christian. But how does the Bishop know how the devils esteem God’s
power; and what devils does he mean? There are in the Scripture two
sorts of things, which are in English translated devils. One, is that
which is called Satan, Diabolus, and Abaddon, which signifies in
English, an _enemy_, an _accuser_, and a _destroyer_ of the Church of
God. In which sense, the devils are but wicked men. How then is he sure
that they esteem God’s power to be infinite? For, _trembling_ infers no
more than that they apprehend it to be greater than their own. The other
sort of devils are called in the Scripture _dæmonia_, which are the
feigned Gods of the heathen, and are neither bodies nor spiritual
substances, but mere fancies, and fictions of terrified hearts, feigned
by the Greeks and other heathen people, and which St. Paul calleth
_nothings_; for an idol, saith he, is nothing. Does the Bishop mean,
that these nothings esteem God’s power to be infinite and tremble? There
is nothing that has a real being, but God, and the world, and the parts
of the world; nor has anything a feigned being, but the fictions of
men’s brains. The world and the parts thereof are corporeal, endued with
the dimensions of quantity, and with figure. I should be glad to know,
in what classes of entities which is a word that schoolmen use, the
Bishop ranketh these devils, that so much esteem God’s power, and yet
not love him nor hope in him, if he place them not in the rank of those
men who are enemies to the people of God, as the Jews did.

(_c_) “Secondly, he errs in making inward piety to ascribe no glory to
God, but only the glory of his power or omnipotence. What shall become
of all other the Divine attributes, and particularly of his goodness, of
his truth, of his justice, of his mercy,” &c.

He speaketh of God’s goodness and mercy, as if they were no part of his
power. Is not goodness, in him that is good, the power to make himself
beloved, and is not mercy goodness? Are not, therefore, these attributes
contained in the attribute of his omnipotence? And justice in God, is it
anything else, but the power he hath, and exerciseth in distributing
blessings and afflictions? Justice is not in God as in man, the
observation of the laws made by his superiors. Nor is wisdom in God, a
logical examination of the means by the end, as it is in men; but an
incomprehensible attribute given to an incomprehensible nature, for to
honour him. It is the Bishop that errs, in thinking nothing to be power
but riches and high place, wherein to domineer and please himself, and
vex those that submit not to his opinions.

(_d_) “Thirdly, this opinion of absolute necessity destroys the truth of
God, making him to command one thing openly, and to necessitate another
privately, &c. It destroys the goodness of God, making him to be a hater
of mankind, &c. It destroys the justice of God, making him to punish the
creatures for that which was his own act, &c. It destroys the very power
of God, making him to be the true author of all the defects and evils
which are in the world.”

If the opinion of absolute necessity do all this, then the opinion of
God’s prescience does the same; for God foreknoweth nothing, that can
possibly not come to pass; but that which cannot possibly not come to
pass, cometh to pass of necessity. But how doth necessity destroy the
truth of God, by commanding and hindering what he commandeth? Truth
consisteth in affirmation and negation, not in commanding and hindering;
it does not therefore follow, if all things be necessary that come to
pass, that therefore God hath spoken an untruth; nor that he professeth
one thing, and intendeth another. The Scripture, which is his word, is
not the profession of what he intendeth, but an indication of what those
men shall necessarily intend, whom he hath chosen to salvation, and whom
he hath determined to destruction. But on the other side, from the
negation of necessity, there followeth necessarily the negation of God’s
prescience; which is in the Bishop, if not ignorance, impiety. Or how
“destroyeth it the goodness of God, or maketh him to be a hater of
mankind, and to delight in the torments of his creatures, whereas the
very dogs licked the sores of Lazarus in pity and commiseration of him”?
I cannot imagine, when living creatures of all sorts are often in
torments as well as men, that God can be displeased with it: without his
will, they neither are nor could be at all tormented. Nor yet is he
delighted with it; but health, sickness, ease, torments, life and death,
are without all passion in him dispensed by him; and he putteth an end
to them then when they end, and a beginning when they begin, according
to his eternal purpose, which cannot be resisted. That the necessity
argueth a delight of God in the torments of his creatures, is even as
true, as that it was pity and commiseration in the dogs that made them
lick the sores of Lazarus. Or how doth the opinion of necessity “destroy
the justice of God, or make him to punish the creatures for that which
was his own act”? If all afflictions be punishments, for whose act are
all other creatures punished which cannot sin? Why may not God make the
affliction, both of those men that he hath elected, and also of those
whom he hath reprobated, the necessary causes of the conversion of those
he hath elected; their own afflictions serving therein as chastisements,
and the afflictions of the rest as examples? But he may perhaps think it
no injustice to punish the creatures that cannot sin with temporary
punishments, when nevertheless it would be injustice to torment the same
creatures eternally. This may be somewhat to meekness and cruelty, but
nothing at all to justice and injustice: for in punishing the innocent,
the injustice is equal, though the punishments be unequal. And what
cruelty can be greater than that which may be inferred from this opinion
of the Bishop; that God doth torment eternally, and with the extremest
degree of torment, all those men which have sinned, that is to say, all
mankind from the creation to the end of the world which have not
believed in Jesus Christ, whereof very few, in respect of the multitude
of others, have so much as heard of his name; and this, when faith in
Christ is the gift of God himself, and the hearts of all men in his
hands to frame them to the belief of whatsoever he will have them to
believe? He hath no reason therefore, for his part, to tax any opinion,
for ascribing to God either cruelty or injustice. Or how doth it
“destroy the power of God, or make him to be the author of all the
defects and evils which are in the world”? First, he seemeth not to
understand what _author_ signifies. _Author_, is he which owneth an
action, or giveth a warrant to do it. Do I say, that any man hath in the
Scripture, which is all the warrant we have from God for any action
whatsoever, a warrant to commit theft, murder, or any other sin? Does
the opinion of necessity infer that there is such a warrant in the
Scripture? Perhaps he will say, no, but that this opinion makes him the
cause of sin. But does not the Bishop think him the cause of all
actions? And are not sins of commission actions? Is murder no action?
And does not God himself say, _non est malum in civitate quod ego non
feci_; and was murder not one of those evils? Whether it were or not, I
say no more but that God is the cause, not the author, of all actions
and motions. Whether sin be the action, or the defect, or the
irregularity, I mean not to dispute. Nevertheless I am of opinion, that
the distinction of _causes_ into _efficient_ and _deficient_ is _bohu_,
and signifies nothing.

(_e_) “How shall a man praise God for his goodness, who believes him to
be a greater tyrant than ever was in the world; who creates millions to
burn eternally without their fault, to express his power?”

If _tyrant_ signify, as it did when it came first in use, a king, it is
no dishonour to believe that God is a greater tyrant than ever was in
the world; for he is the King of all kings, emperors, and commonwealths.
But if we take the word, as it is now used, to signify those kings only,
which they that call them tyrants, are displeased with, that is, that
govern not as they would have them, the Bishop is nearer the calling him
a tyrant, than I am; making that to be tyranny, which is but the
exercise of an absolute power; for he holdeth, though he see it not, by
consequence, in withdrawing the will of man from God’s dominion, that
every man is a king of himself. And if a man cannot praise God for his
goodness, who creates millions to burn eternally without their fault;
how can the Bishop praise God for his goodness, who thinks he hath
created millions of millions to burn eternally, when he could have kept
them so easily from committing any fault? And to his “how shall a man
hear the word of God with that reverence, and devotion, and faith, which
is requisite, who believeth that God causeth his gospel to be preached
to the much greater part of Christians, not with any intention that they
should be converted and saved,” &c.; I answer, that those men who so
believe, have faith in Jesus Christ, or they have not faith in him. If
they have, then shall they, by that faith, hear the word of God with
that reverence, and devotion, and faith, which is requisite to
salvation. And for them that have no faith, I do not think he asketh how
they shall hear the word of God with that reverence, and devotion, and
faith, which is requisite; for he knows they shall not, until such time
as God shall have given them faith. Also he mistakes, if he think that I
or any other Christian believe, that God intendeth, by hardening any
man’s heart, to make that man inexcusable, but to make his elect the
more careful.

Likewise to his question, “how shall a man receive the sacrament with
comfort, who believeth that so many millions are positively excluded
from the benefit of Christ’s passion, before they had done either good
or evil”; I answer as before, _by faith_, if he be of God’s elect; if
not, he shall not receive the sacrament with comfort. I may answer also,
that the faithful man shall receive the sacrament with comfort, by the
same way that the bishop receiveth it with comfort. For he also
believeth that many millions are excluded from the benefit of Christ’s
passion, (whether positively or not positively is nothing to the
purpose, nor doth positively signify any thing in this place); and that,
so long before they had either done good or evil, as it was known to God
before they were born that they were so excluded.

To his “how shall he prepare himself with care and conscience, who
apprehendeth that eating and drinking unworthily is not the cause of
damnation, but because God would damn a man, therefore he necessitates
him”: I answer, that he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, does not
believe that God necessitates him to eat and drink unworthily, because
he would damn him; for neither does he think he eats and drinks
unworthily, nor that God intends to damn him; for he believeth no such
damnation, nor intendeth any preparation. The belief of damnation is an
article of Christian faith; so is also preparation to the sacrament. It
is therefore a vain question, how he that hath no faith shall prepare
himself with care and conscience to the receiving of the sacrament. But
to the question, how they shall prepare themselves, that shall at all
prepare themselves; I answer, it shall be by faith, when God shall give
it them.

To his “how shall a man make a free vow to God, who thinks himself able
to perform nothing, but as he is extrinsically necessitated”: I answer,
that if he make a vow, it is a free vow, or else it is no vow; and yet
he may know, when he hath made that vow, though not before, that it was
extrinsically necessitated; for the necessity of vowing before he vowed,
hindered not the _freedom_ of his vow, but made it.

Lastly, to “how shall a man condemn and accuse himself for his sins, who
thinks himself to be like a watch which is wound up by God,” &c.: I
answer, though he think himself necessitated to what he shall do, yet,
if he do not think himself necessitated and wound up to impenitence,
there will follow upon his opinion of necessity no impediment to his
repentance. The Bishop disputeth not against me, but against somebody
that holds a man may repent, that believes at the same time he cannot
repent.

(_f_) “Observe what a description he has given us here of repentance:
‘It is a glad returning into the right way, after the grief of being out
of the way.’ It amazed me to find _gladness_ to be the first word in the
description of repentance.”

I could never be of opinion that Christian repentance could be ascribed
to them, that had as yet no intention to forsake their sins and to lead
a new life. He that grieves for the evil that hath happened to him for
his sins, but hath not a resolution to obey God’s commandments better
for the time to come, grieveth for his sufferings, but not for his
doings; which no divine, I think, will call Christian repentance. But he
that resolveth upon amendment of life, knoweth that there is forgiveness
for him in Christ Jesus; whereof a Christian cannot possibly be but
glad. Before this gladness there was a grief preparative to repentance,
but the repentance itself was not Christian repentance till this
conversion, till this glad conversion. Therefore I see no reason why it
should amaze him to find gladness to be the first word in the
description of repentance, saving that the light amazeth such as have
been long in darkness. And “for the fasting, sackcloth, and ashes”, they
were never parts of repentance perfected, but signs of the beginning of
it. They are external things; repentance is internal. This doctrine
pertaineth to the establishing of Romish penance; and being found to
conduce to the power of the clergy, was by them wished to be restored.

(_g_) “It is a returning; but whose act is this returning? If it be
God’s alone, then it is his repentance, not man’s repentance; what need
the penitent person trouble himself about it?”

This is ill argued; for why is it God’s repentance, when he gives man
repentance, more than it is God’s faith, when he gives man faith. But he
labours to bring in a concurrence of man’s will with God’s will; and a
power in God to give repentance, if man will take it; but not the power
to make him take it. This concurrence he thinks is proved by Revel. iii.
19, 20: “Be zealous, and repent. Behold, I stand at the door, and knock.
If any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him”.
Here is nothing of concurrence, nor of anything equivalent to it, nor
mention at all of the will or purpose, but of the calling or voice by
the minister. And as God giveth to the minister a power of persuading,
so he giveth also many times a concurrence of the auditor with the
minister in being persuaded. Here is therefore somewhat equivalent to a
concurrence with the minister, that is, of man with man; but nothing of
the concurrence of man, whose will God frameth as he pleaseth, with God
that frameth it. And I wonder how any man can conceive, when God giveth
a man a will to do anything whatsoever, how that will, when it is not,
can concur with God’s will to make itself be.

The next thing he excepteth against is this, that I hold, (_h_) “that
prayer is not a cause, nor a means of God’s blessing, but only a
signification that we expect it from him.”

First, instead of my words, “a signification that we expect nothing but
from him,” he hath put “a signification that we expect it from him”.
There is much difference between my words and his, in the sense and
meaning; for in the one, there is honour ascribed to God, and humility
in him that prayeth; but in the other, presumption in him that prayeth,
and a detraction from the honour of God. When I say, prayer is not a
cause nor a means, I take _cause_ and _means_ in one and the same sense;
affirming that God is not moved by any thing that we do, but has always
one and the same eternal purpose, to do the same things that from
eternity he hath foreknown shall be done; and methinks there can be no
doubt made thereof. But the Bishop allegeth (2 Cor. i. 11): that “St.
Paul was helped by their prayers, and that the gift was bestowed upon
them by their means;” and (James v. 16): “The effectual and fervent
prayer of a righteous man availeth much”. In which places, the words
_means_, _effectual_, _availeth_, do not signify any causation; for no
man nor creature living can work any effect upon God, in whom there is
nothing, that hath not been in him eternally heretofore, nor that shall
not be in him eternally hereafter; but do signify the order in which God
hath placed men’s prayers and his own blessings. And not much after, the
Bishop himself saith, “prayer works not upon God, but us”. Therefore, it
is no cause of God’s will, in giving us his blessings, but is properly a
sign, not a procuration of his favour.

The next thing he replieth to is, that I make prayer to be a kind of
thanksgiving; to which he replies, “he might even as well tell me, that
when a beggar craves an alms, and when he gives thanks for it, it is all
one.” Why so? Does not a beggar move a man by his prayer, and sometime
worketh in him a compassion not without pain, and as the Scripture calls
it, a yearning of the bowels; which is not so in God, when we pray to
him? Our prayer to God is a duty; it is not so to man. Therefore, though
our prayers to man be distinguished from our thanks, it is not necessary
it should be so in our prayers and thanks to God Almighty.

To the rest of his reply, in this No. XV, there needs no further answer.

                                NO. XVI.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Fourthly, the order, beauty, and perfection of the world doth
require that in the universe should be agents of all sorts, some
necessary, some free, some contingent. He that shall make, either all
things necessary, guided by destiny; or all things free, governed by
election; or all things contingent, happening by chance: doth overthrow
the beauty and the perfection of the world.”

_T. H._ The fourth argument from reason, is this. The order, beauty, and
perfection of the world requireth that in the universe there should be
agents of all sorts, some necessary, some free, some contingent. He that
shall make all things necessary, or all things free, or all things
contingent, doth overthrow the beauty and perfection of the world.

In which argument I observe, first, a contradiction. For seeing he that
maketh anything, in that he maketh it, he maketh it to be necessary, it
followeth, that he that maketh all things, maketh all things necessary
to be. As if a workman make a garment, the garment must necessarily be.
So if God make every thing, every thing must necessarily be. Perhaps the
beauty of the world requireth, though we know it not, that some agents
should work without deliberation, which he calls necessary agents; and
some agents with deliberation, and those both he and I call free agents;
and that some agents should work, and we not know how; and those effects
we both call contingent. But this hinders not, but that he that
electeth, may have his election necessarily determined to one by former
causes; and that which is contingent, and imputed to fortune, be
nevertheless necessary, and depend on precedent necessary causes. For by
contingent, men do not mean that which hath no cause, but which hath not
for cause any thing which we perceive. As for example; when a traveller
meets with a shower, the journey had a cause, and the rain had a cause,
sufficient enough to produce it; but because the journey caused not the
rain, nor the rain the journey, we say, they were contingent one to
another. And thus you see, though there be three sorts of events,
necessary, contingent, and free, yet they may be all necessary, without
the destruction of the beauty or perfection of the universe.

_J. D._ “The first thing he observes in mine argument, is contradiction,
as he calls it; but in truth, it is but a deception of the sight, as one
candle sometimes seems to be two, or a rod in the water shows to be two
rods; _quicquid recipitur, recipitur ad modum recipientis_. But what is
this contradiction? Because I say, he who maketh all things, doth not
make them necessary. What! a contradiction and but one proposition! That
were strange. I say, God hath not made all agents necessary; he saith,
God hath made all agents necessary. Here is a contradiction indeed; but
it is between him and me, not between me and myself. But though it be
not a formal contradiction, yet perhaps it may imply a contradiction _in
adjecto_. Wherefore to clear the matter, and dispel the mist which he
hath raised, it is true, that everything when it is made, it is
necessary that it be made so as it is, that is, by a necessity of
infallibility, or supposition, supposing that it be so made; but this is
not that absolute, antecedent necessity, whereof the question is between
him and me. As to use his own instance: before the garment be made, the
tailor is free to make it either of the Italian, Spanish, or French
fashion indifferently; but after it is made, it is necessary that it be
of that fashion whereof he hath made it, that is, by a necessity of
supposition. But this doth neither hinder the cause from being a free
cause, nor the effect from being a free effect; but the one did produce
freely, and the other was freely produced. So the contradiction is
vanished.”

“In the second part of his answer, (_a_) he grants; that there are some
free agents, and some contingent agents, and that perhaps the beauty of
the world doth require it; but like a shrewd cow, which after she hath
given her milk casts it down with her foot, in the conclusion he tells
us, that nevertheless they are all necessary. This part of his answer is
a mere logomachy, as a great part of the controversies in the world are,
or a contention about words. What is the meaning of necessary, and free,
and contingent actions? I have showed before what free and necessary do
properly signify; but he misrecites it. He saith, I make all agents
which want deliberation, to be necessary; but I acknowledge that many of
them are contingent. (_b_) Neither do I approve his definition of
contingents, though he say I concur with him, that they are ‘such agents
as work we know not how’. For, according to this description, many
necessary actions should be contingent, and many contingent actions
should be necessary. The loadstone draweth iron, the jet chaff, we know
not how; and yet the effect is necessary; and so it is in all sympathies
and antipathies or occult qualities. Again, a man walking in the
streets, a tile falls down from a house, and breaks his head. We know
all the causes, we know how this came to pass. The man walked that way,
the pin failed, the tile fell just when he was under it; and yet this is
a contingent effect: the man might not have walked that way, and then
the tile had not fallen upon him. Neither yet do I understand here in
this place by contingents, such events as happen beside the scope or
intention of the agents; as when a man digging to make a grave, finds a
treasure; though the word be sometimes so taken. But by contingents, I
understand all things which may be done and may not be done, may happen
or may not happen, by reason of the indetermination or accidental
concurrence of the causes. And those same things which are absolutely
contingent, are yet hypothetically necessary. As supposing the passenger
did walk just that way, just at that time, and that the pin did fail
just then, and the tile fall; it was necessary that it should fall upon
the passenger’s head. The same defence will keep out his shower of rain.
But we shall meet with his shower of rain again, No. XXXIV; whither I
refer the further explication of this point.”

            ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XVI.

In this number he would prove that there must be free agents and
contingent agents, as well as necessary agents, from the order, beauty,
and perfection of the world. I that thought that the order, beauty, and
perfection of the world required that which was in the world, and not
that which the Bishop had need of for his argument, could see no force
of consequence to infer that which he calls free and contingent. That
which is in the world, is the order, beauty, and perfection which God
hath given the world; and yet there are no agents in the world, but such
as work a seen necessity, or an unseen necessity; and when they work an
unseen necessity in creatures inanimate, then are those creatures said
to be wrought upon contingently, and to work contingently; and when the
necessity unseen is of the actions of men, then it is commonly called
free, and might be so in other living creatures; for free and voluntary
are the same thing. But the Bishop in his reply hath insisted most upon
this, that I make it a contradiction to say that “he that maketh a
thing, doth not make it necessary”, and wonders how a contradiction can
be in one proposition, and yet within two or three lines after found it
might be. And therefore, to clear the matter, he saith that such
necessity is not _antecedent_, but a necessity _of supposition_: which,
nevertheless, is the same kind of necessity which he attributeth to the
burning of the fire, where there is a necessity that the thing thrown
into it shall be burned; though yet it be but burning, or but departing
from the hand that throws it in; and, therefore, the necessity is
antecedent. The like is in making a garment; the necessity begins from
the first motion towards it, which is from eternity, though the tailor
and the Bishop are equally insensible of it. If they saw the whole order
and conjunction of causes, they would say it were as necessary as any
thing else can possibly be; and therefore God that sees that order and
conjunction, knows it is necessary.

The rest of his reply is to argue a contradiction in me; for he says,

(_a_) “I grant that there are some free agents, and some contingent
agents, and that perhaps the beauty of the world doth require it; but
like a shrewd cow, which, after she hath given her milk, casts it down
with her foot, in the conclusion I tell him, that nevertheless they are
all necessary.”

It is true that I say some are free agents, and some contingent;
nevertheless they may be all necessary. For according to the
significations of the words necessary, free, and contingent, the
distinction is no more but this. Of agents, some are necessary, some are
contingent, and some are free agents; and of agents, some are living
creatures, and some are inanimate; which words are improper, but the
meaning of them is this. Men call necessary agents, such as they know to
be necessary, and contingent agents, such inanimate things as they know
not whether they work necessarily or no, and free agents, men whom they
know not whether they work necessarily or no. All which confusion
ariseth from that presumptuous men take for granted, that that _is_ not,
which they _know_ not.

(_b_) “Neither do I approve his definition of contingents; that they are
such agents as work we know not how.”

The reason is, because it would follow that many necessary actions
should be contingent, and many contingent actions necessary. But that
which followeth from it really is no more but this: that many necessary
actions would be such as we know not to be necessary, and many actions
which we know not to be necessary, may yet be necessary; which is a
truth. But the Bishop defineth contingents thus: “all things which may
be done and may not be done, may happen or may not happen, by reason of
the indetermination or accidental concurrence of the causes”. By which
definition, contingent is nothing, or it is the same that I say it is.
For there is nothing can be done and not be done, nothing can happen and
not happen, by reason of the indetermination or accidental concurrence
of the causes. It may be done or not done for aught he knows, and happen
or not happen for any determination he perceiveth; and that is my
definition. But that the indetermination can make it happen or not
happen, is absurd; for indetermination maketh it equally to happen or
not to happen, and therefore both; which is a contradiction. Therefore
indetermination doth nothing; and whatsoever causes do, is necessary.

                               NO. XVII.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Fifthly, take away liberty, and you take away the very nature
of evil, and the formal reason of sin. If the hand of the painter were
the law of painting, or the hand of the writer the law of writing,
whatsoever the one did write, or the other paint, must infallibly be
good. Seeing therefore that the first cause is the rule and law of
goodness, if it do necessitate the will or the person to evil, either by
itself immediately, or mediately by necessary flux of second causes, it
will no longer be evil. The essence of sin consists in this, that one
commit that which he might avoid. If there be no liberty to produce sin,
there is no such thing as sin in the world. Therefore it appears, both
from Scripture and reason, that there is true liberty.”

_T. H._ To the fifth argument from reason, which is, that if liberty be
taken away, the nature and formal reason of sin is taken away, I answer
by denying the consequence. The nature of sin consisteth in this, that
the action done proceed from our will, and be against the law. A judge,
in judging whether it be sin or not which is done against the law, looks
at no higher cause of the action than the will of the doer. Now when I
say the action was necessary, I do not say it was done against the will
of the doer, but with his will, and so necessarily; because man’s will,
that is, every act of the will, and purpose of man had a sufficient, and
therefore a necessary cause, and consequently every voluntary action was
necessitated. An action therefore may be voluntary and a sin, and
nevertheless be necessary. And God may afflict by right derived from his
omnipotency, though sin were not. And the example of punishment on
voluntary sinners, is the cause that produceth justice, and maketh sin
less frequent; for God to punish such sinners, as I have shewed before,
is no injustice. And thus you have my answer to his objections, both out
of Scripture and reason.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “_Scis tu simulare cupressum._ _Quid hoc?_” It was shrewd
counsel which Alcibiades gave to Themistocles, when he was busy about
his accounts to the state; that he should rather study how to make no
accounts. So it seems T. H. thinks it a more compendious way, to baulk
an argument, than to satisfy it. And if he can produce a Rowland against
an Oliver, if he can urge a reason against a reason, he thinks he hath
quitted himself fairly. But it will not serve his turn. And that he may
not complain of misunderstanding it, as those who have a politic
deafness to hear nothing but what liketh them, I will first reduce mine
argument into form, and then weigh what he saith in answer, or rather in
opposition to it. (_a_) That opinion which takes away the formal reason
of sin, and by consequence, sin itself, is not to be approved; this is
clear, because both reason and religion, nature and Scripture, do prove,
and the whole world confesseth, that there is sin. But this opinion, of
the necessity of all things by reason of a conflux of second causes,
ordered and determined by the first cause, doth take away the very
formal reason of sin. This is proved thus. That which makes sin itself
to be good, and just, and lawful, takes away the formal cause, and
destroys the essence of sin; for if sin be good, and just, and lawful,
it is no more evil, it is no sin, no anomy. But this opinion of the
necessity of all things, makes sin to be very good, and just, and
lawful; for nothing can flow essentially by way of physical
determination from the first cause, which is the law and rule of
goodness and justice, but that which is good, and just, and lawful. But
this opinion makes sin to proceed essentially by way of physical
determination from the first cause, as appears in T. H.’s whole
discourse. Neither is it material at all whether it proceed immediately
from the first cause, or mediately, so as it be by a necessary flux of
second and determinate causes, which produce it inevitably. To these
proofs he answers nothing, but only by denying the first consequence, as
he calls it, and then sings over his old song, ‘that the nature of sin
consisteth in this, that the action proceed from our will, and be
against the law’, which, in our sense, is most true, if he understand a
just law, and a free rational will. (_b_) But supposing, as he doth,
that the law enjoins things impossible in themselves to be done, then it
is an unjust and tyrannical law; and the transgression of it is no sin,
not to do that which never was in our power to do. And supposing,
likewise as he doth, that the will is inevitably determined by special
influence from the first cause, then it is not man’s will, but God’s
will, and flows essentially from the law of goodness.

(_c_) “That which he adds of a judge, is altogether impertinent as to
his defence. Neither is a civil judge the proper judge, nor the law of
the land the proper rule of sin. But it makes strongly against him; for
the judge goes upon a good ground; and even this which he confesseth,
that ‘the judge looks at no higher cause than the will of the doer’,
proves that the will of the doer did determine itself freely, and that
the malefactor had liberty to have kept the law, if he would. Certainly,
a judge ought to look at all material circumstances, and much more at
all essential causes. Whether every sufficient cause be a necessary
cause, will come to be examined more properly, No. XXXI. For the present
it shall suffice to say, that liberty flows from the sufficiency, and
contingency from the debility of the cause. (_d_) Nature never intends
the generation of a monster. If all the causes concur sufficiently, a
perfect creature is produced; but by reason of the insufficiency, or
debility, or contingent aberration of some of the causes, sometimes a
monster is produced. Yet the causes of a monster were sufficient for the
production of that which was produced, that is a monster: otherwise a
monster had not been produced. What is it then? A monster is not
produced by virtue of that order which is set in nature, but by the
contingent aberration of some of the natural causes in their
concurrence. The order set in nature is, that every like should beget
its like. But supposing the concurrence of the causes to be such as it
is in the generation of a monster, the generation of a monster is
necessary; as all the events in the world are when they are, that is, by
an hypothetical necessity. (_e_) Then he betakes himself to his old
help, that God may punish by right of omnipotence, though there were no
sin. The question is not now what God may do, but what God will do,
according to that covenant which he hath made with man, _fac hoc et
vives_, _do this and thou shalt live_. Neither doth God punish any man
contrary to this covenant (Hosea xiii. 9): _O Israel, thy destruction is
from thyself; but in me is thy help_. He that wills not the death of a
sinner, doth much less will the death of an innocent creature. By
_death_ or _destruction_ in this discourse the only separation of soul
and body is not intended, which is a debt of nature, and which God, as
Lord of life and death, may justly do, and make it not a punishment, but
a blessing to the party; but we understand, the subjecting of the
creature to eternal torments. Lastly, he tells of that benefit which
redounds to others from exemplary justice; which is most true, but not
according to his own grounds. For neither is it justice to punish a man
for doing that which it was impossible always for him not to do; neither
is it lawful to punish an innocent person, that good may come of it. And
if his opinion of absolute necessity of all things were true, the
destinies of men could not be altered, either by examples or fear of
punishment.”

            ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XVII.

Whereas he had in his first discourse made this consequence: “if you
take away liberty, you take away the very nature of evil, and the formal
reason of sin”: I denied that consequence. It is true, he who taketh
away the liberty of doing, according to the will, taketh away the nature
of sin; but he that denieth the liberty to will, does not so. But he
supposing I understood him not, will needs reduce his argument into
form, in this manner. (_a_) “That opinion which takes away the formal
reason of sin, and by consequence, sin itself, is not to be approved.”
This is granted. “But the opinion of necessity doth this.” This I deny;
he proves it thus: “this opinion makes sin to proceed essentially, by
way of physical determination from the first cause. But whatsoever
proceeds essentially by way of physical determination from the first
cause, is good, and just, and lawful. Therefore this opinion of
necessity maketh sin to be very good, just, and lawful.” He might as
well have concluded, whatsoever man hath been made by God, is a good and
just man. He observeth not that sin is not a thing really made. Those
things which at first were actions, were not then sins, though actions
of the same nature with those which were afterwards sins; nor was then
the will to anything a sin, though it were a will to the same thing,
which in willing now, we should sin. Actions became sins then first,
when the commandment came; for, as St. Paul saith, _without the law sin
is dead_; and sin being but a _transgression of the law_, there can be
no action made sin but by the law. Therefore this opinion, though it
derive actions essentially from God, it derives not sins essentially
from him, but relatively and by the commandment. And consequently the
opinion of necessity taketh not away the nature of sin, but
necessitateth that action which the law hath made sin. And whereas I
said the nature of sin consisteth in this, that ‘it is an action
proceeding from our will and against the law’, he alloweth it for true;
and therefore he must allow also, that the formal reason of sin lieth
not in the liberty or necessity of willing, but in the will itself,
necessary or unnecessary, in relation to the law. And whereas he limits
this truth which he allowed, to this, that _the law be just_, and _the
will a free rational will_, it serves to no purpose; for I have shown
before, that no law can be unjust. And it seemeth to me that a rational
will, if it be not meant of a will after deliberation, whether he that
deliberateth reasoneth aright or not, signifieth nothing. A _rational
man_ is rightly said; but a _rational will_, in other sense than I have
mentioned, is insignificant.

(_b_) “But supposing, as he doth, that the law enjoins things impossible
in themselves to be done, then it is an unjust and tyrannical law, and
the transgression of it no sin,” &c. “And supposing likewise, as he
doth, that the will is inevitably determined by special influence from
the first cause, then it is not man’s will, but God’s will.” He mistakes
me in this. For I say not the law enjoins things impossible in
themselves; for so I should say it enjoined contradictories. But I say
the law sometimes, the law-makers not knowing the secret necessities of
things to come, enjoins things made impossible by secret and extrinsical
causes from all eternity. From this his error he infers, that the laws
must be unjust and tyrannical, and the transgression of them no sin. But
he who holds that laws can be unjust and tyrannical, will easily find
pretence enough, under any government in the world, to deny obedience to
the laws, unless they be such as he himself maketh, or adviseth to be
made. He says also, that I suppose the will is inevitably determined by
special influence from the first cause. It is true; saving that
senseless word _influence_, which I never used. But his consequence,
“then it is not man’s will, but God’s will”, is not true; for it may be
the will both of the one and of the other, and yet not by concurrence,
as in a league, but by subjection of the will of man to the will of God.

(_c_) “That which he adds of a judge, is altogether impertinent as to
his defence. Neither is a civil judge the proper judge, nor the law of
the land a proper rule of sin.” A judge is to judge of voluntary crimes.
He has no commission to look into the secret causes that make them
voluntary. And because the Bishop had said the law cannot justly punish
a crime that proceedeth from necessity, it was no impertinent answer to
say, “the judge looks at no higher cause than the will of the doer”. And
even this, as he saith, is enough to prove, that “the will of the doer
did determine itself freely, and that the malefactor had liberty to have
kept the law if he would”. To which I answer, that it proves indeed that
the malefactor had liberty to have kept the law if he would; but it
proveth not that he had the liberty to have a will to keep the law. Nor
doth it prove that the will of the doer did determine itself freely;
for, nothing can prove nonsense. But here you see what the Bishop
pursueth in this whole reply, namely, to prove that a man hath liberty
to do if he will, which I deny not; and thinks when he hath done that,
he hath proved a man hath liberty to will, which he calls the will’s
determining of itself freely. And whereas he adds, “a judge ought to
look at all essential causes”; it is answer enough to say, he is bound
to look at no more than he thinks he can see.

(_d_) “Nature never intends the generation of a monster. If all the
causes concur sufficiently, a perfect creature is produced; but by
reason of the insufficiency, or debility, or contingent aberration of
some of the causes, sometimes a monster is produced.” He had no sooner
said this, but finding his error he retracteth it, and confesseth that
“the causes of a monster were sufficient for the production of that
which was produced, that is, of a monster; otherwise a monster had not
been produced;” which is all that I intended by sufficiency of the
cause. But whether every sufficient cause be a necessary cause or not,
he meaneth to examine in No. XXXI. In the meantime he saith only, that
liberty flows from the sufficiency, and contingency from the debility of
the cause; and leaves out necessity, as if it came from neither. I must
note also, that where he says nature never intends the generation of a
monster, I understand not whether by nature he means the Author of
nature, in which meaning he derogates from God; or nature itself, as the
universal work of God; and then it is absurd; for the universe, as one
aggregate of things natural, hath no intention. His doctrine that
followeth concerning the generation of monsters, is not worth
consideration; therefore I leave it wholly to the judgment of the
reader.

(_e_) “Then he betakes himself to his old help, that God may punish by
right of omnipotence, though there were no sin. The question is not, now
what God may do, but what God will do, according to that covenant which
he hath made with man, _Fac hoc et vives_, _do this and thou shalt
live_.” It is plain (to let pass that he puts punishment where I put
affliction, making a true sentence false) that if a man do this he shall
live, and he may do this if he will. In this the Bishop and I disagree
not. This therefore is not the question; but whether the will to do
this, or not to do this, be in a man’s own election. Whereas he adds,
‘he that wills not the death of a sinner, doth much less will the death
of an innocent creature’; he had forgot for awhile, that both good and
evil men are by the will of God all mortal; but presently corrects
himself, and says, he means by death, eternal torments, that is to say,
eternal life, but in torments; to which I have answered once before in
this book, and spoken much more amply in another book, to which the
Bishop hath inclination to make an answer, as appeareth by his epistle
to the reader. That which followeth to the end of this number, hath been
urged and answered already divers times; I therefore pass it over.

                               NO. XVIII.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “But the patrons of necessity being driven out of the plain
field with reason, have certain retreats or distinctions which they fly
unto for refuge. First, they distinguish between Stoical necessity and
Christian necessity, between which they make a threefold difference.

“First, say they, the Stoics did subject Jupiter to destiny, but we
subject destiny to God. I answer, that the Stoical and Christian destiny
are one and the same; _Fatum, quasi effatum Jovis_. Hear Seneca:
_Destiny is the necessity of all things and actions depending upon the
disposition of Jupiter_, &c. I add, that the Stoics left a greater
liberty to Jupiter over destiny, than these stoical Christians do to God
over his decrees, either for the beginnings of things, as Euripides, or
for the progress of them, as Chrysippus, or at least of the
circumstances of time and place, as all of them generally. So Virgil:
_Sed trahere et moras ducere_, &c. So Osyris in Apuleius, promiseth him
to prolong his life, _ultra fato constituta tempora_, beyond the times
set down by the destinies.

“Next, they say, that the Stoics did hold an eternal flux and necessary
connexion of causes; but they believed that God doth act _præter et
contra naturam_, _besides and against nature_. I answer, that it is not
much material whether they attribute necessity to God, or to the stars,
or to a connexion of causes, so as they establish necessity. The former
reasons do not only condemn the ground or foundation of necessity, but
much more necessity itself upon what ground soever. Either they must run
into this absurdity, that the effect is determined, the cause remaining
undetermined; or else hold such a necessary connexion of causes as the
Stoics did.

“Lastly, they say, the Stoics did take away liberty and contingence, but
they admit it. I answer, what liberty or contingence was it they admit
but a titular liberty and an empty shadow of contingence, who do profess
stiffly that all actions and events, which either are or shall be,
cannot but be, nor can be otherwise, after any other manner, in any
other place, time, number, order, measure, nor to any other end, than
they are; and that in respect of God determining them to one. What a
poor ridiculous liberty or contingency is this!

“Secondly, they distinguish between the first cause, and the second
causes; they say, that in respect of the second causes many things are
free, but in respect of the first cause all things are necessary. This
answer may be taken away two ways.

“First, so contraries shall be true together; the same thing at the same
time shall be determined to one, and not determined to one; the same
thing at the same time must necessarily be, and yet may not be. Perhaps
they will say, not in the same respect. But that which strikes at the
root of this question is this, if all the causes were only collateral,
this exception might have some colour: but where all the causes being
joined together, and subordinate one to another, do make but one total
cause, if any one cause (much more the first) in the whole series or
subordination of causes be necessary, it determines the rest, and
without doubt makes the effect necessary. Necessity or liberty is not to
be esteemed from one cause, but from all the causes joined together. If
one link in a chain be fast, it fastens all the rest.

“Secondly, I would have them tell me whether the second causes be
predetermined by the first cause, or not. If it be determined, then the
effect is necessary, even in respect of the second causes. If the second
cause be not determined, how is the effect determined, the second cause
remaining undetermined? Nothing can give that to another which it hath
not itself. But say they, nevertheless the power or faculty remaineth
free. True, but not in order to the act, if it be once determined. It is
free, _in sensu diviso_, but not _in sensu composito_. When a man holds
a bird fast in his hand, is she therefore free to fly where she will,
because she hath wings? Or a man imprisoned or fettered, is he therefore
free to walk where he will, because he hath feet and a locomotive
faculty? Judge without prejudice, what a miserable subterfuge is this
which many men confide so much in.

 CERTAIN DISTINCTIONS WHICH HE SUPPOSING MAY BE BROUGHT TO HIS ARGUMENTS,
                           ARE BY HIM REMOVED.

_T. H._ He saith, “a man may perhaps answer, that the necessity of
things held by him is not a Stoical necessity, but a Christian
necessity,” &c., but this distinction I have not used, nor indeed have
ever heard before. Nor do I think any man could make Stoical and
Christian two kinds of necessities, though they may be two kinds of
doctrine. Nor have I drawn my answer to his arguments from the authority
of any sect, but from the nature of the things themselves.

But here I must take notice of certain words of his in this place, as
making against his own tenet. “Where all the causes”, saith he, “being
joined together, and subordinate one to another, do make but one total
cause, if any one cause, much more the first, in the whole series of
subordination of causes be necessary, it determines the rest, and
without doubt maketh the effect necessary.” For that which I call the
necessary cause of any effect, is the joining together of all causes
subordinate to the first, into one total cause. If any one of those,
saith he, especially the first, produce its effect necessarily, then all
the rest are determined, and the effect also necessary. Now, it is
manifest, that the first cause is a necessary cause of all the effects
that are next and immediate to it; and therefore by his own reason, all
effects are necessary. Nor is that distinction of necessary in respect
of the first cause, and necessary in respect of second causes, mine; it
does, as he well noteth, imply a contradiction.

_J. D._ “Because T. H. disavows these two distinctions, I have joined
them together in one paragraph. He likes not the distinction of
necessity, or destiny, into Stoical and Christian; no more do I. We
agree in the conclusion, but our motives are diverse. My reason is,
because I acknowledge no such necessity either as the one or as the
other; and because I conceive that those Christian writers, who do
justly detest the naked destiny of the Stoics, as fearing to fall into
those gross absurdities and pernicious consequences which flow from
thence, do yet privily, though perhaps unwittingly, under another form
of expression introduce it again at the back-door, after they had openly
cast it out at the fore-door. But T. H. rusheth boldly without
distinctions, which he accounts but jargon, and without foresight, upon
the grossest destiny of all others, that is, that of the Stoics. He
confesseth, that “they may be two kinds of doctrine.” May be? Nay, they
are; without all peradventure. And he himself is the first who bears the
name of a Christian, that I have read, that hath raised this sleeping
ghost out of its grave, and set it out in its true colours. But yet he
likes not the names of Stoical and Christian destiny. I do not blame
him, though he would not willingly be accounted a Stoic. To admit the
thing, and quarrel about the name, is to make ourselves ridiculous. Why
might not I first call that kind of destiny which is maintained by
Christians, Christian destiny: and that other maintained by Stoics,
Stoical destiny? But I am not the inventor of the term. If he had been
as careful in reading other men’s opinions, as he is confident in
setting down his own, he might have found not only the thing, but the
name itself often used. But if the name of _fatum Christianum_ do offend
him, let him call it with Lipsius, _fatum verum_; who divides destiny
into four kinds: 1. mathematical or astrological destiny: 2. natural
destiny: 3. Stoical or violent destiny: and 4. true destiny; which he
calls, ordinarily, _nostrum_, our destiny, that is, of Christians; and
_fatum pium_, that is, godly destiny; and defines it just as T. H. doth
his destiny, to be (_a_) a series or order of causes depending upon the
divine counsel (_De Constantia_, lib. 1. cap. xvii. xviii. xix). Though
he be more cautelous than T. H. to decline those rocks which some others
have made shipwreck upon, yet the divines thought he came too near them;
as appears by his Epistle to the Reader in a later edition, and by that
note in the margin of his twentieth chapter, ‘Whatsoever I dispute here,
I submit to the judgment of the wise, and being admonished I will
convert it; one may convince me of error, but not of obstinacy.’ So
fearful was he to over-shoot himself; and yet he maintained both true
liberty and true contingency. T. H. saith, ‘he hath not sucked his
answer from any sect’; and I say, so much the worse. It is better to be
the disciple of an old sect, than the ring-leader of a new.

(_b_) “Concerning the other distinction, of liberty in respect of the
first cause, and liberty in respect of the second causes; though he will
not see that which it concerned him to answer, like those old _Lamiæ_,
which could put out their eyes when they list; as, namely, that the
faculty of willing, when it is determined in order to the act, (which is
all the freedom that he acknowledgeth), is but like the freedom of a
bird when she is first in a man’s hand, &c.: yet he hath espied another
thing wherein I contradict myself, because I affirm, that if any one
cause in the whole series of causes, much more the first cause, be
necessary, it determineth the rest. But, saith he, ‘it is manifest that
the first cause is a necessary cause of all the effects that are next’.
I am glad; yet it is not I who contradict myself, but it is some of his
_manifest truths_ which I contradict; that ‘the first cause is a
necessary cause of all effects’; which I say is a manifest falsehood.
Those things which God wills without himself, he wills freely, not
necessarily. Whatsoever cause acts or works necessarily, doth act or
work all that it can do, or all that is in its power. But it is evident
that God doth not all things without himself, which he can do, or which
he hath power to do. He could have raised up children unto Abraham of
the very stones which were upon the banks of Jordan (Luke iii. 8); but
he did not. He could have sent twelve legions of angels to the succour
of Christ, (Matth. xxvi. 53); but he did not. God can make T. H. live
the years of Methuselah; but it is not necessary that he shall do so,
nor probable that he will do so. The productive power of God is
infinite, but the whole created world is finite. And, therefore God
might still produce more, if it pleased him. But thus it is, when men go
on in a confused way, and will admit no distinctions. If T. H. had
considered the difference between a necessary being, and a necessary
cause, or between those actions of God which are immanent within
himself, and the transient works of God which are extrinsical without
himself; he would never have proposed such an evident error for a
manifest truth. _Qui pauca considerat, facile pronuntiat._”

           ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XVIII.

The Bishop, supposing I had taken my opinion from the authority of the
Stoic philosophers, not from my own meditation, falleth into dispute
against the Stoics: whereof I might, if I pleased, take no notice, but
pass over to No. XIX. But that he may know I have considered their
doctrine concerning fate, I think fit to say thus much, that their error
consisteth not in the opinion of fate, but in feigning of a false God.
When therefore they say, _fatum est effatum Jovis_, they say no more but
that _fate is the word of Jupiter_. If they had said it had been the
word of the true God, I should not have perceived anything in it to
contradict; because I hold, as most Christians do, that the whole world
was made, and is now governed by the word of God, which bringeth a
necessity of all things and actions to depend upon the Divine
disposition. Nor do I see cause to find fault with that, as he does,
which is said by Lipsius, that (_a_) fate is a _series or order of
causes depending upon the Divine counsel_; though the divines thought he
came too near the rocks, as he thinks I do now. And the reason why he
was cautelous, was, because being a member of the Romish Church he had
little confidence in the judgment and lenity of the Romish clergy; and
not because he thought he had over-shot himself.

(_b_) “Concerning the other distinction, of liberty in respect of the
first cause, and liberty in respect of the second causes, though he will
not see that which it concerned him to answer, &c.”, “as, namely, that
the faculty of willing, &c.” I answer, that distinction he allegeth, not
to be mine, but the Stoics’; and therefore I had no reason to take
notice of it; for he disputeth not against me, but others. And whereas
he says, _it concerned me to make_ that answer which he hath set down in
the words following; I cannot conceive how it concerneth me (whatsoever
it may do somebody else) to speak absurdly.

I said that the first cause is a necessary cause of all the effects that
are next and immediate to it; which cannot be doubted, and though he
deny it, he does not disprove it. For when he says, “those things which
God wills without himself, he wills freely and not necessarily”; he says
rashly, and untruly. Rashly, because there is nothing without God, who
is _infinite_, in whom _are all things_, and in whom _we live, move, and
have our being_; and untruly, because whatsoever God foreknew from
eternity, he willed from eternity, and therefore necessarily. But
against this he argueth thus: “Whatsoever cause acts or works
necessarily, doth work or act all that it can do, or all that is in its
power; but it is evident that God doth not all things which he can do,”
&c. In things inanimate, the action is always according to the extent of
its power; not taking in the power of willing, because they have it not.
But in those things that have will, the action is according to the whole
power, will and all. It is true, that God doth not all things that he
can do if he will; but that he can _will_ that which he hath not
_willed_ from all eternity, I deny; unless that he can not only _will a
change_, but also _change his will_, which all divines say is immutable;
and then they must needs be necessary effects, that proceed from God.
And his texts, _God could have raised up children unto Abraham_, &c.;
and _sent twelve legions of angels_, &c., make nothing against the
necessity of those actions, which from the first cause proceed
_immediately_.

                                NO. XIX.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Thirdly, they distinguish between liberty from compulsion, and
liberty from necessitation. The will, say they, is free from compulsion,
but not free from necessitation. And this they fortify with two reasons.
First, because it is granted by all divines, that hypothetical
necessity, or necessity upon a supposition, may consist with liberty.
Secondly, because God and the good angels do good necessarily, and yet
are more free than we. To the first reason, I confess that necessity
upon a supposition may sometimes consist with true liberty, as when it
signifies only an infallible certitude of the understanding in that
which it knows to be, or that it shall be. But if the supposition be not
in the agent’s power, nor depend upon anything that is in his power; if
there be an exterior antecedent cause which doth necessitate the effect;
to call this free, is to be mad with reason.

“To the second reason, I confess that God and the good angels are more
free than we are, that is, intensively in the degree of freedom, but not
extensively in the latitude of the object; according to a liberty of
exercise, but not of specification. A liberty of exercise, that is, to
do or not to do, may consist well with a necessity of specification, or
a determination to the doing of good. But a liberty of exercise, and a
necessity of exercise, a liberty of specification, and a necessity of
specification, are not compatible, nor can consist together. He that is
antecedently necessitated to do evil, is not free to do good. So this
instance is nothing at all to the purpose.”

_T. H._ But the distinction of free, into free from compulsion, and free
from necessitation, I acknowledge. For to be free from compulsion, is to
do a thing so as terror be not the cause of his will to do it. For a man
is then only said to be compelled, when fear makes him willing to it; as
when a man willingly throws his goods into the sea to save himself, or
submits to his enemy for fear of being killed. Thus all men that do
anything from love, or revenge, or lust, are free from compulsion; and
yet their actions may be as necessary as those which are done upon
compulsion. For sometimes other passions work as forcibly as fear; but
free from necessitation I say nothing can be. And it is that which he
undertook to disprove. This distinction, he says, useth to be fortified
by two reasons. But they are not mine. The first, he says, is, “that it
is granted by all divines, that an hypothetical necessity, or necessity
upon supposition, may stand with liberty”. That you may understand this,
I will give you an example of hypothetical necessity. _If I shall live,
I shall eat_; this is an hypothetical necessity. Indeed, it is a
necessary proposition; that is to say, it is necessary that that
proposition should be true, whensoever uttered; but it is not the
necessity of the thing, nor is it therefore necessary, that the man
shall live, or that the man shall eat. I do not use to fortify my
distinctions with such reasons. Let him confute them as he will, it
contents me. But I would have your Lordship take notice hereby, how an
easy and plain thing, but withal false, may be, with the grave usage of
such words as _hypothetical necessity_, and _necessity upon
supposition_, and such like terms of Schoolmen, obscured and made to
seem profound learning.

The second reason that may confirm the distinction of free from
compulsion, and free from necessitation, he says, is that ‘God and good
angels do good necessarily, and yet are more free than we’. This reason,
though I had no need of it, yet I think it so far forth good, as it is
true that God and good angels do good necessarily, and yet are free. But
because I find not in the articles of our faith, nor in the decrees of
our Church, set down in what manner I am to conceive God and good angels
to work by necessity, or in what sense they work freely, I suspend my
sentence in that point; and am content that there may be a freedom from
compulsion, and yet no freedom from necessitation, as hath been proved
in that, that a man may be necessitated to some actions without threats
and without fear of danger. But how he can avoid the consisting together
of freedom and necessity, supposing God and good angels are freer than
men and yet do good necessarily, that we must now examine.

“I confess,” saith he, “that God and good angels are more free than we,
that is, intensively in degree of freedom, not extensively in the
latitude of the object, according to a liberty of exercise, not of
specification.” Again we have here two distinctions that are no
distinctions, but made to seem so by terms invented, by I know not whom,
to cover ignorance, and blind the understanding of the reader. For it
cannot be conceived that there is any liberty greater than for a man to
do what he will, and to forbear what he will. One heat may be more
intensive than another, but not one liberty than another. He that can do
what he will, hath all liberty possible; and he that cannot, has none at
all. Also liberty (as he says the Schools call it) of exercise, which
is, as I have said before, a liberty to do or not to do, cannot be
without a liberty, which they call of specification; that is to say, a
liberty to do or not to do this or that in particular. For how can a man
conceive, that he has liberty to do any thing, that hath not liberty to
do this, or that, or somewhat in particular? If a man be forbidden in
Lent to eat this, and that, and every other particular kind of flesh,
how can he be understood to have a liberty to eat flesh, more than he
that hath no license at all?

You may by this again see the vanity of distinctions used in the
Schools; and I do not doubt but that the imposing of them by authority
of doctors in the Church, hath been a great cause that men have
laboured, though by sedition and evil courses, to shake them off; for,
nothing is more apt to beget hatred, than the tyrannising over man’s
reason and understanding, especially when it is done, not by the
Scripture, but by pretence of learning, and more judgment than that of
other men.

_J. D._ “He who will speak with some of our great undertakers about the
grounds of learning, had need either to speak by an interpreter, or to
learn a new language (I dare not call it jargon or canting) lately
devised, not to set forth the truth, but to conceal falsehood. He must
learn a new liberty, a new necessity, a new contingency, a new
sufficiency, a new spontaneity, a new kind of deliberation, a new kind
of election, a new eternity, a new compulsion, and in conclusion, a new
nothing. (_a_) This proposition, _the will is free_, may be understood
in two senses; either that the will is not compelled, or that the will
is not always necessitated; for if it be ordinarily, or at any time free
from necessitation, my assertion is true, that there is freedom from
necessity. The former sense, that the will is not compelled, is
acknowledged by all the world as a truth undeniable: _voluntas non
cogitur_. For if the will may be compelled, then it may both will and
not will the same thing at the same time, under the same notion; but
this implies a contradiction. Yet this author, like the good woman whom
her husband sought up the stream when she was drowned upon pretence that
when she was living she used to go contrary courses to all other people,
holds, that true compulsion and fear may make a man will that which he
doth not will, that is, in his sense may compel the will: “as when a man
willingly throws his goods into the sea to save himself, or submits to
his enemy for fear of being killed”. I answer, that T. H. mistakes
sundry ways in this discourse.

(_b_) “First, he erreth in this, to think that actions proceeding from
fear are properly compulsory actions: which in truth are not only
voluntary, but free actions; neither compelled, nor so much as
physically necessitated. Another man, at the same time, in the same
ship, in the same storm, may choose, and the same individual man
otherwise advised might choose not, to throw his goods overboard. It is
the man himself, who chooseth freely this means to preserve his life. It
is true, that if he were not in such a condition, or if he were freed
from the grounds of his present fears, he would not choose neither the
casting of his goods into the sea, nor the submitting to his enemy. But
considering the present exigence of his affairs, reason dictates to him,
that of two inconveniences the less is to be chosen, as a comparative
good. Neither doth he will this course as the end or direct object of
his desires, but as the means to attain his end. And what fear doth in
these cases, love, hope, hatred, &c. may do in other cases; that is, may
occasion a man to elect those means to obtain his willed end, which
otherwise he would not elect. As Jacob, to serve seven years more,
rather than not to enjoy his beloved Rachel. The merchant, to hazard
himself upon the rough seas in hope of profit. Passions may be so
violent, that they may necessitate the will, that is, when they prevent
deliberations; but this is rarely, and then the will is not free. But
they never properly compel it. That which is compelled, is against the
will; and that which is against the will, is not willed.

(_c_) “Secondly, T. H. errs in this also, where he saith, that ‘a man is
then only said to be compelled, when fear makes him willing to an
action’: as if force were not more prevalent with a man, than fear. We
must know therefore, that this word _compelled_ is taken two ways:
sometimes improperly, that is, when a man is moved or occasioned by
threats or fear, or any passion, to do that which he would not have
done, if those threats or that passion had not been. Sometimes it is
taken properly; when we do any thing against our own inclination, moved
by an external cause, the will not consenting nor concurring, but
resisting as much as it can. As in a rape, or when a Christian is drawn
or carried by violence to the idol’s temple. Or as in the case of St.
Peter (John xxi. 18): _Another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither
thou wouldest not_. This is that compulsion, which is understood when we
say, the will may be letted, or changed, or necessitated, or that the
imperate actions of the will, that is the actions of the inferior
faculties which are ordinarily moved by the will, may be compelled: but
that the immanent actions of the will, that is, to will, to choose,
cannot be compelled; because it is the nature of an action properly
compelled, to be done by an extrinsical cause, without the concurrence
of the will.

(_d_) “Thirdly, the question is not, whether all the actions of a man be
free, but whether they be ordinarily free. Suppose some passions are so
sudden and violent, that they surprise a man, and betray the succours of
the soul, and prevent deliberation; as we see in some _motus primo
primi_, or antipathies, how some men will run upon the most dangerous
objects, upon the first view of a loathed creature, without any power to
contain themselves. Such actions as these, as they are not ordinary, so
they are not free; because there is no deliberation nor election. But
where deliberation and election are, as when a man throws his goods
overboard to save the ship, or submits to his enemy to save his life,
there is always true liberty.

“Though T. H. slight the two reasons which I produce in favour of his
cause, yet they who urged them deserved not to be slighted, unless it
were because they were School-men. The former reason is thus framed: a
necessity of supposition may consist with true liberty. But that
necessity which flows from the natural and extrinsical determination of
the will, is a necessity of supposition. To this, my answer is in
effect, that (_e_) a necessity of supposition is of two kinds. Sometimes
the thing supposed is in the power of the agent to do, or not to do. As
for a Romish priest to vow continence, upon supposition that he be a
Romish priest, is necessary; but because it was in his power to be a
priest or not to be a priest, therefore his vow is a free act. So
supposing a man to have taken physic, it is necessary that he keep at
home; yet because it was in his power to take a medicine or not to take
it, therefore his keeping at home is free. Again, sometimes the thing
supposed is not in the power of the agent to do, or not to do. Supposing
a man to be extremely sick, it is necessary that he keep at home; or
supposing that a man hath a natural antipathy against a cat, he runs
necessarily away so soon as he sees her: because this antipathy, and
this sickness, are not in the power of the party affected, therefore
these acts are not free. Jacob blessed his sons, Balaam blessed Israel;
these two acts being done, are both necessary upon supposition. But it
was in Jacob’s power, not to have blessed his sons; so was it not in
Balaam’s power, not to have blessed Israel (Numb. xxii. 38). Jacob’s
will was determined by himself; Balaam’s will was physically determined
by God. Therefore Jacob’s benediction proceeded from his own free
election; and Balaam’s from God’s determination. So was Caiphas’
prophecy (John xi. 51): therefore the text saith, _he spake not of
himself_. To this T. H. saith nothing; but only declareth by an
impertinent instance, what _hypothetical_ signifies; and then adviseth
your Lordship, to take notice how errors and ignorance may be cloaked
under grave scholastic terms. And I do likewise intreat your Lordship to
take notice, that the greatest fraud and cheating lurks commonly under
the pretence of plain dealing. We see jugglers commonly strip up their
sleeves, and promise extraordinary fair dealing, before they begin to
play their tricks.

“Concerning the second argument drawn from the liberty of God and the
good angels; as I cannot but approve his modesty, in ‘suspending his
judgment concerning the manner how God and the good angels do work
necessarily or freely, because he finds it not set down in the Articles
of our faith, or the decrees of our Church’, especially in this age,
which is so full of atheism, and of those scoffers which St. Peter
prophesied of, (2 Pet. iii. 3), who neither believe that there is God or
angels, or that they have a soul, but only as salt, to keep their bodies
from putrifaction; so I can by no means assent unto him in that which
follows, that is to say, that he hath proved that liberty and necessity
of the same kind may consist together, that is, a liberty of exercise
with a necessity of exercise, or a liberty of specification with a
necessity of specification. Those actions which he saith are
necessitated by passion, are for the most part dictated by reason,
either truly or apparently right, and resolved by the will itself. But
it troubles him, that I say that God and the good angels are more free
than men, intensively in the degree of freedom, but not extensively in
the latitude of the object, according to a liberty of exercise, but not
of specification: which he saith are no distinctions, but terms invented
to cover ignorance. Good words. Doth he only see? Are all other men
stark blind? By his favour, they are true and necessary distinctions;
and if he alone do not conceive them, it is because distinctions, as all
other things, have their fates, according to the capacities or
prejudices of their readers. But he urgeth two reasons. ‘One heat,’
saith he, ‘may be more intensive than another, but not one liberty than
another.’ Why not, I wonder? Nothing is more proper to a man than
reason; yet a man is more rational than a child, and one man more
rational than another, that is, in respect of the use and exercise of
reason. As there are degrees of understanding, so there are of liberty.
The good angels have clearer understandings than we, and they are not
hindered with passions as we, and by consequence they have more use of
liberty than we. (_f_) His second reason is: ‘he that can do what he
will, hath all liberty, and he that cannot do what he will, hath no
liberty’. If this be true, then there are no degrees of liberty indeed.
But this which he calls liberty, is rather an omnipotence than a liberty
to do whatsoever he will. A man is free to shoot, or not to shoot,
although he cannot hit the white whensoever he would. We do good freely,
but with more difficulty and reluctance than the good spirits. The more
rational, and the less sensual the will is, the greater is the degree of
liberty. His other exception against liberty of exercise, and liberty of
specification, is a mere mistake, which grows merely from not rightly
understanding what liberty of specification, or contrariety is. A
liberty of specification, saith he, is a liberty to do or not to do this
or that in particular. Upon better advice he will find, that this which
he calls a liberty of specification, is a liberty of contradiction, and
not of specification, nor of contrariety. To be free to do or not to do
this or that particular good, is a liberty of contradiction; so
likewise, to be free to do or not to do this or that particular evil.
But to be free to do both good and evil, is a liberty of contrariety,
which extends to contrary objects or to diverse kind of things. So his
reason to prove that a liberty of exercise cannot be without a liberty
of specification, falls flat to the ground: and he may lay aside his
lenten licence for another occasion. I am ashamed to insist upon these
things, which are so evident that no man can question them who doth
understand them.

(_g_) “And here he falls into another invective against distinctions and
scholastical expressions, and the ‘doctors of the Church, who by this
means tyrannized over the understandings of other men.’ What a
presumption is this, for one private man, who will not allow human
liberty to others, to assume to himself such a licence to control so
magistrally, and to censure of gross ignorance and tyrannising over
men’s judgments, yea, as causes of the troubles and tumults which are in
the world, the doctors of the Church in general, who have flourished in
all ages and all places, only for a few necessary and innocent
distinctions. Truly, said Plutarch, that a sore eye is offended with the
light of the sun. (_h_) What then, must the logicians lay aside their
first and second intentions, their abstracts and concretes, their
subjects and predicates, their modes and figures, their method synthetic
and analytic, their fallacies of composition and division, &c.? Must the
moral philosopher quit his means and extremes, his _principia congenita
et acquisita_, his liberty of contradiction and contrariety, his
necessity absolute and hypothetical, &c.? Must the natural philosopher
give over his intentional species, his understanding agent and patient,
his receptive and eductive power of the matter, his qualities _infusæ_
or _influxæ_, _symbolæ_ or _dissymbolæ_, his temperament _ad pondus_ and
_ad justitiam_, his parts homogeneous and heterogeneous, his sympathies
and antipathies, his antiperistasis, &c.? Must the astrologer and the
geographer leave their _apogæum_ and _perigæum_, their artic and
antartic poles, their equator, zodiac, zenith, meridian, horizon, zones,
&c.? Must the mathematician, the metaphysician, and the divine,
relinquish all their terms of art and proper idiotisms, because they do
not relish with T. H.’s palate? But he will say, they are obscure
expressions. What marvel is it, when the things themselves are more
obscure? Let him put them into as plain English as he can, and they
shall be never a whit the better understood by those who want all
grounds of learning. Nothing is clearer than mathematical demonstration:
yet let one who is altogether ignorant in mathematics hear it, and he
will hold it to be as T. H. terms these distinctions, plain fustian or
jargon. Every art or profession hath its proper mysteries and
expressions, which are well known to the sons of art, not so to
strangers. Let him consult with military men, with physicians, with
navigators; and he shall find this true by experience. Let him go on
shipboard, and the mariners will not leave their _starboard_ and
_larboard_, because they please not him, or because he accounts it
gibberish. No, no: it is not the School divines, but innovators and
seditious orators, who are the true causes of the present troubles of
Europe. (_i_) T. H. hath forgotten what he said in his book, _De Cive_,
cap. XII.: ‘_that it is a seditious opinion, to teach that the knowledge
of good and evil belongs to private persons_’: and cap. XVII. ‘that in
questions of faith, the civil magistrates ought to consult with
ecclesiastical doctors, to whom God’s blessing is derived by imposition
of hands so as not to be deceived in necessary truths, to whom our
Saviour hath promised infallibility.’ These are the very men whom he
traduceth here. There he ascribes infallibility to them; here he
accuseth them of gross superstitious ignorance. There he attributes too
much to them; here he attributes too little. Both there and here he
takes too much upon him; (1 Cor. xiv. 32): _The spirits of the prophets
are subject to the prophets_.”

            ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XIX.

(_a_) “This proposition, _the will is free_, may be understood in two
senses; either that the will is not compelled, or that the will is not
always necessitated, &c. The former sense, that the will is not
compelled, is acknowledged by all the world as a truth undeniable.” I
never said the will is _compelled_, but do agree with the rest of the
world in granting that it is _not compelled_. It is an absurd speech to
say it is compelled, but not to say it is necessitated, or a necessary
effect of some cause. When the fire heateth, it doth not compel heat; so
likewise when some cause maketh the will to anything, it doth not compel
it. Many things may compel a man to do an action, in producing the will;
but that is not a compelling of the _will_, but of the _man_. That which
I call necessitation, is the effecting and creating of that will which
was not before, not a compelling of a will already existent. The
necessitation or creation of the will, is the same thing with the
compulsion of the man, saving that we commonly use the word compulsion,
in those actions which proceed from terror. And therefore this
distinction is of no use; and that raving which followeth immediately
after it, is nothing to the question, _whether the will be free_, though
it be to the question, _whether the man be free_.

(_b_) “First he erreth in this, to think that actions proceeding from
fear are properly compulsory actions; which in truth are not only
voluntary, but free actions.” I never said nor doubted, but such actions
were both voluntary and free; for he that doth any thing for fear,
though he say truly he was compelled to it, yet we deny not that he had
election to do or not to do, and consequently that he was a voluntary
and free agent. But this hinders not, but that the terror might be a
necessary cause of his election of that which otherwise he would not
have elected, unless some other potent cause made it necessary he should
elect the contrary. And therefore, in the same ship, in the same storm,
one man may be necessitated to throw his goods overboard, and another
man to keep them within the ship; and the same man in a like storm be
otherwise advised, if all the causes be not like. But that the same
individual man, as the Bishop says, that chose to throw his goods
overboard, might chose not to throw his goods overboard, I cannot
conceive; unless a man can choose to throw overboard and not to throw
overboard, or be so advised and otherwise advised, all at once.

(_c_) “Secondly, T. H. errs in this also, where he saith, that ‘a man is
then only said to be compelled, when fear makes him willing to an
action.’ As if force were not more prevalent with a man than fear,” &c.
When I said _fear_, I think no man can doubt but the fear of force was
understood. I cannot see therefore what quarrel he could justly take, at
saying that a man is compelled by fear only; unless he think it may be
called compulsion when a man by force, seizing on another man’s limbs,
moveth them as himself, not as the other man pleaseth. But this is not
the meaning of compulsion: neither is the action so done, the action of
him that suffereth, but of him that useth the force. But this, as if it
were a question of the propriety of the English tongue, the Bishop
denies; and says when a man is moved by fear, it is _improperly_ said he
is compelled. But when a man is moved by an external cause, the will
resisting as much as it can, then he says, he is _properly_ said to be
compelled; as in a rape, or when a Christian is drawn or carried by
violence to the idol’s temple. Insomuch as by this distinction it were
very proper English to say, that a stone were compelled when it is
thrown, or a man when he is carried in a cart. For my part, I understand
compulsion to be used rightly of living creatures only, which are moved
only by their own animal motion, in such manner as they would not be
moved without the fear. But of this dispute the English and well-bred
reader is the proper judge.

(_d_) “Thirdly, the question is not, whether all the actions of a man be
free, but whether they be ordinarily free.” Is it impossible for the
Bishop to remember the question, which is _whether a man be free to
will?_ Did I ever say, that no actions of a man are free? On the
contrary, I say that all his voluntary actions are free, even those also
to which he is compelled by fear. But it does not therefore follow but
that the will, from whence those actions and their election proceed, may
have necessary causes, against which he hath never yet said anything.
That which followeth immediately, is not offered as a proof, but as
explication, how the passions of a man surprise him; therefore I let it
pass, noting only that he expoundeth _motus primo primi_, which I
understood not before, by the word _antipathy_.

(_e_) “A necessity of supposition is of two kinds; sometimes a thing
supposed, is in the power of the agent to do or not to do, &c.;
sometimes a thing supposed, is not in the power of the agent to do or
not to do,” &c.

When the necessity is of the former kind of supposition, then, he says,
freedom may consist with this necessity, in the latter sense that it
cannot. And to use his own instances, to vow continence in a Romish
priest, upon supposition that he is a Romish priest, is a necessary act,
because it was in his power to be a priest or not. On the other side,
supposing a man having a natural antipathy against a cat; because this
antipathy is not in the power of the party affected, therefore the
running away from the cat is no free act.

I deny not but that it is a free act of the Romish priest to vow
continence, not upon the supposition that he was a Romish priest, but
because he had not done it unless he would; if he had not been a Romish
priest, it had been all one to the freedom of his act. Nor is his
priesthood anything to the necessity of his vow, saving that if he would
not have vowed he should not have been made a priest. There was an
antecedent necessity in the causes extrinsical; first, that he should
have the will to be a priest, and then consequently that he should have
the will to vow. Against this he allegeth nothing. Then for his cat, the
man’s running from it is a free act, as being voluntary, and arising
from a false apprehension (which nevertheless he cannot help) of some
hurt or other the cat may do him. And therefore the act is as free as
the act of him that throweth his goods into the sea. So likewise the act
of Jacob in blessing his sons, and the act of Balaam in blessing Israel,
are equally free and equally voluntary, yet equally determined by God,
who is the author of all blessings, and framed the will of both of them
to bless, and whose will, as St. Paul saith, cannot be resisted.
Therefore both their actions were necessitated equally; and, because
they were voluntary, equally free. As for Caiphas’ his prophecy, which
the text saith _he spake not of himself_, it was necessary; first,
because it was by the supernatural gift of God to the high-priests, as
sovereigns of the commonwealth of the Jews, to speak to the people as
from the mouth of God, that is to say, to prophecy; and secondly,
whensoever he did speak not as from God, but as from himself, it was
nevertheless necessary he should do so, not that he might not have been
silent if he would, but because his will to speak was antecedently
determined to what he should speak from all eternity, which he hath yet
brought no argument to contradict.

He approveth my modesty in suspending my judgment concerning the manner
how the good angels do work, necessarily or freely, because I find it
not set down in the articles of our faith, nor in the decrees of our
Church. But he useth not the same modesty himself. For whereas he can
apprehend neither the nature of God nor of angels, nor conceive what
kind of thing it is which in them he calleth will, he nevertheless takes
upon him to attribute to them _liberty of exercise_, and to deny them _a
liberty of specification_; to grant them a _more intensive_ liberty than
we have, but not a _more extensive_; using, not incongruously, in the
incomprehensibility of the subject incomprehensible terms, as _liberty
of exercise_ and _liberty of specification_, and degrees of intension in
liberty; as if one liberty, like heat, might be more intensive than
another. It is true that there is greater liberty in a large than in a
straight prison, but one of those liberties is not more intense than the
other.

(_f_) “His second reason is, _he that can do what he will, hath all
liberty, and he that cannot do what he will, hath no liberty_. If this
be true, then there are no degrees of liberty indeed. But this which he
calls liberty, is rather an omnipotence than a liberty.” It is one thing
to say a man hath liberty to do what he will, and another thing to say
he hath power to do what he will. A man that is bound, would say readily
he hath not the liberty to walk; but he will not say he wants the power.
But the sick man will say he wants the power to walk, but not the
liberty. This is, as I conceive, to speak the English tongue: and
consequently an Englishman will not say, the liberty to do what he will,
but the power to do what he will, is omnipotence. And therefore either I
or the Bishop understand not English. Whereas he adds that I mistake the
meaning of the words _liberty of specification_, I am sure that in that
way wherein I expound them, there is no absurdity. But if he say, I
understand not what the Schoolmen mean by it, I will not contend with
him; for I think they know not what they mean themselves.

(_g_) “And here he falls into another invective against distinctions and
scholastical expressions, and the doctors of the Church, who by this
means tyrannized over the understanding of other men. What a presumption
is this, for one private man,” &c. That he may know I am no enemy to
intelligible distinctions, I also will use a distinction in the defence
of myself against this his accusation. I say therefore that some
distinctions are _scholastical_ only, and some are _scholastical_ and
_sapiential_ also. Against those that are _scholastical_ only, I do and
may inveigh. But against those that are _scholastical_ and _sapiential_
also, I do not inveigh. Likewise some doctors of the Church, as Suarez,
Johannes à Duns, and their imitators, to breed in men such opinions as
the Church of Rome thought suitable to their interest, did write such
things as neither other men nor themselves understood. These I confess I
have a little slighted. Other doctors of the Church, as Martin Luther,
Philip Melancthon, John Calvin, William Perkins, and others, that did
write their sense clearly, I never slighted, but always very much
reverenced and admired. Wherein, then, lieth my presumption? If it be
because I am a private man, let the Bishop also take heed he contradict
not some of those whom the world worthily esteems, lest he also (for he
is a private man) be taxed of presumption.

(_h_) “What then, must the logicians lay aside their first and second
intentions, their abstracts and concretes &c.: must the moral
philosopher quit his means and extremes, his _principia congenita et
acquisita_, his liberty of contradiction and contrariety, his necessity
absolute and hypothetical, &c.: must the natural philosopher give over
his intentional species, &c.: because they do not relish with T. H.’s
palate?” I confess that among the logicians, Barbara, Celarent, Darii,
Ferio, &c. are terms of art. But if the Bishop think that words of
_first and second intention_, that _abstract_ and _concrete_, that
_subjects_ and _predicates_, _moods_ and _figures_, _method synthetic_
and _analytic_, _fallacies_ of _composition_ and _division_, be terms of
art, I am not of his opinion. For these are no more terms of art in
logic, than _lines_, _figures_, _squares_, _triangles_, &c. in the
mathematics. Barbara, Celarent, and the rest that follow, are terms of
art, invented for the easier apprehension of young men, and are by young
men understood. But the terms of the School with which I have found
fault, have been invented to blind the understanding, and cannot be
understood by those that intend to learn divinity. And to his question
whether the moral philosopher must quit his means and extremes, I
answer, that though they are not terms of art, he ought to quit them
when they cannot be understood; and when they can, to use them rightly.
And therefore, though _means_ and _extremes_ be terms intelligible, yet
I would have them quit the placing of virtue in the one, and of vice in
the other. But for his _liberty of contradiction_ and _contrariety_, his
_necessity absolute_ and _hypothetical_, if any moral philosopher ever
used them, then away with them; they serve for nothing but to seduce
young students. In like manner, let the natural philosopher no more
mention his _intentional species_, his _understanding agent and
patient_, his _receptive and eductive power of the matter_, his
_qualities infusæ_ or _influxæ_, _symbolæ_ or _dissymbolæ_, his
_temperament ad pondus_ and _ad justitiam_. He may keep his _parts
homogeneous_ and _heterogeneous_; but his _sympathies_ and
_antipathies_, his _antiperistasis_ and the like names of excuses rather
than of causes, I would have him fling away. And for the astrologer,
(unless he means astronomer), I would have him throw away his whole
trade. But if he mean astronomer, then the terms of _apogæum_ and
_perigæum_, artic, antartic, equator, zodiac, zenith, meridian, horizon,
zones, &c. are no more terms of art in astronomy, than a saw or a
hatchet in the art of a carpenter. He cites no terms of art for
geometry; I was afraid he would have put _lines_, or perhaps _equality_
or _inequality_, for terms of art. So that now I know not what be those
terms he thinks I would cast away in geometry. And lastly, for his
metaphysician, I would have him quit both his terms and his profession,
as being in truth (as Plutarch saith in the beginning of the life of
Alexander the Great) not at all profitable to learning, but made only
for an essay to the learner; and the divine to use no word in preaching
but such as his auditors, nor in writing but such as a common reader,
may understand. And all this, not for the pleasing of my palate, but for
the promotion of truth.

(_i_) “T. H. hath forgotten what he said in his book, _De Cive_, cap.
XII., that it is ‘a seditious opinion to teach that the knowledge of
good and evil belongs to private persons’: and cap. XVII, that ‘in
questions of faith the civil magistrates ought to consult with the
ecclesiastical doctors, to whom God’s blessing is derived by imposition
of hands, so as not to be deceived in necessary truths,’ &c. There he
attributes too much to them, here he attributeth too little; both there
and here he takes too much upon him. _The spirits of the prophets are
subject to the prophets._” He thinks he hath a great advantage against
me from my own words in my book _De Cive_, which he would not have
thought if he had understood them. The knowledge of good and evil is
judicature, which in Latin is _cognitio causarum_, not _scientia_. Every
private man may do his best to attain a knowledge of what is good and
evil in the action he is to do; but to judge of what is good and evil in
others, belongs not to him, but to those whom the sovereign power
appointeth thereunto. But the Bishop not understanding, or forgetting,
that _cognoscere_ is to judge, as Adam did of God’s commandment, hath
cited this place to little purpose. And for the infallibility of the
ecclesiastical doctors by me attributed to them, it is not that they
cannot be deceived, but that a subject cannot be deceived in obeying
them when they are our lawfully constituted doctors. For the supreme
ecclesiastical doctor, is he that hath the supreme power: and in obeying
him no subject can be deceived, because they are by God himself
commanded to obey him. And what the ecclesiastical doctors, lawfully
constituted, do tell us to be necessary in point of religion, the same
is told us by the sovereign power. And therefore, though we may be
deceived by them in the belief of an opinion, we cannot be deceived by
them in the duty of our actions. And this is all that I ascribe to the
ecclesiastical doctors. If they think it too much, let them take upon
them less. Too little they cannot say it is, who take it, as it is, for
a burthen. And for them who seek it as a worldly preferment, it is too
much. I take, he says, too much upon me. Why so? Because _the spirits of
the prophets are subject to the prophets_. This is it that he finds
fault with in me, when he says that I am a private man, that is to say,
no prophet, that is to say, no bishop. By which it is manifest, that the
Bishop subjecteth not his spirit but to the Convocation of bishops. I
admit that every man ought to subject his spirit to the prophets. But a
prophet is he that speaketh unto us from God; which I acknowledge none
to do, but him that hath due authority so to do. And no man hath due
authority so to do immediately, but he that hath the supreme authority
of the commonwealth; nor mediately, but they that speak such things to
the people, as he that hath the supreme authority alloweth of. And as it
is true in this sense, that _the spirits of the prophets are subject to
the prophets_; so it is also true that _we ought not to believe every
spirit, but to try the spirits, whether they are of God; because many
false prophets are gone out into the world_ (1 John iv. 1). Therefore I
that am a private man, may examine the prophets; which to do, I have no
other means but to examine whether their doctrine be agreeable to the
law; which theirs is not, who divide the commonwealth into two
commonwealths, civil and ecclesiastical.

                                NO. XX.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Now to the distinction itself, I say, first, that the proper
act of liberty is election, and election is opposed, not only to
coaction, but also to coarctation, or determination to one.
Necessitation or determination to one, may consist with spontaneity, but
not with election or liberty; as hath been showed. The very Stoics did
acknowledge a spontaneity. So our adversaries are not yet gone out of
the confines of the Stoics.

“Secondly, to rip up the bottom of this business, this I take to be the
clear resolution of the Schools. There is a double act of the will: the
one more remote, called _imperatus_, that is, in truth the act of some
inferior faculty, subject to the command of the will, as to open or shut
one’s eyes; without doubt these actions may be compelled. The other act
is nearer, called _actus elicitus_, an act drawn out of the will, as to
will, to choose, to elect. This may be stopped or hindered by the
intervening impediment of the understanding, as a stone lying on a table
is kept from its natural motion; otherwise the will should have a kind
of omnipotence. But the will cannot be compelled to an act repugnant to
its inclination, as when a stone is thrown upwards into the air; for
that is both to incline and not to incline to the same object at the
same time, which implies a contradiction. Therefore to say the will is
necessitated, is to say, the will is compelled so far as the will is
capable of compulsion. If a strong man holding the hand of a weaker,
should therewith kill a third person, _hæc quidem vis est_, this is
violence; the weaker did not willingly perpetrate the fact, because he
was compelled. But now suppose this strong man had the will of the
weaker in his power as well as the hand, and should not only incline,
but determine it secretly and insensibly to commit this act: is not the
case the same? Whether one ravish Lucretia by force, as Tarquin, or by
amatory potions and magical incantations not only allure her, but
necessitate her to satisfy his lust, and incline her effectually, and
draw her inevitably and irresistibly, to follow him spontaneously,
Lucretia in both these conditions is to be pitied. But the latter person
is more guilty, and deserves greater punishment, who endeavours also, so
much as in him lies, to make Lucretia irresistibly partake of his crime.
I dare not apply it, but thus only: take heed how we defend those secret
and invincible necessitations to evil, though spontaneous and free from
coaction.

“These are their fastnesses.”

_T. H._ In the next place, he bringeth two arguments against
distinguishing between being free from compulsion, and free from
necessitation. The first is, that election is opposite, not only to
coaction or compulsion, but also to necessitation or determination to
one. This is it he was to prove from the beginning, and therefore
bringeth no new argument to prove it. And to those brought formerly, I
have already answered; and in this place I deny again, that election is
opposite to either. For when a man is compelled, for example, to subject
himself to an enemy or to die, he hath still election left in him, and a
deliberation to bethink which of these two he can better endure; and he
that is led to prison by force, hath election, and may deliberate,
whether he will be haled and trained on the ground, or make use of his
feet.

Likewise when there is no compulsion, but the strength of temptation to
do an evil action, being greater than the motives to abstain,
necessarily determines him to the doing of it, yet he deliberates whilst
sometimes the motives to do, sometimes the motives to forbear, are
working on him, and consequently he electeth which he will. But
commonly, when we see and know the strength that moves us, we
acknowledge necessity; but when we see not, or mark not the force that
moves us, we then think there is none, and that it is not causes, but
liberty that produceth the action. Hence it is that they think he does
not choose this, that of necessity chooseth it; but they might as well
say fire does not burn, because it burns of necessity. The second
argument is not so much an argument, as a distinction, to show in what
sense it may be said that voluntary actions are necessitated, and in
what sense not. And therefore he allegeth, as from the authority of the
Schools and that which “rippeth up the bottom of the question”, that
there is a double act of the will. The one, he says, is _actus
imperatus_, an act done at the command of the will by some inferior
faculty of the soul, as to open or shut one’s eyes: and this act may be
compelled. The other, he says, is _actus elicitus_, an act allured, or
an act drawn forth by allurement out of the will, as to will, to choose,
to elect: this, he says, cannot be compelled. Wherein letting pass that
metaphorical speech of attributing command and subjection to the
faculties of the soul, as if they made a commonwealth or family among
themselves, and could speak one to another, which is very improper in
searching the truth of the question: you may observe first, that to
compel a voluntary act is nothing else but to will it. For it is all one
to say, my will commands the shutting of mine eyes or the doing of any
other action, and to say, I have the will to shut mine eyes. So that
_actus imperatus_ here, might as easily have been said in English, _a
voluntary action_, but that they that invented the term understood not
any thing it signified. Secondly you may observe, that _actus elicitus_
is exemplified by these words, to will, to elect, to choose, which are
all one; and so to will is here made an act of the will; and indeed, as
the will is a faculty or power of a man’s soul, so to will is an act of
it according to that power. But as it is absurdly said, that to dance is
an act allured or drawn by fair means out of the ability to dance; so it
is also to say, that to will is an act allured or drawn out of the power
to will, which power is commonly called the will. Howsoever it be, the
sum of his distinction is, that a voluntary act may be done on
compulsion, that is to say, by foul means; but to will that or any act
cannot be but by allurement or fair means. Now, seeing fair means,
allurements, and enticements, produce the action which they do produce
as necessarily as threatening and foul means, it follows, that to will
may be made as necessary as any thing that is done by compulsion. So
that the distinction of _actus imperatus_, and _actus elicitus_, are but
words, and of no effect against necessity.

_J. D._ “In the next place follow two reasons of mine own against the
same distinction, the one taken from the former grounds, that election
cannot consist with determination to one. To this, he saith, he hath
answered already. No; truth is founded upon a rock. He hath been so far
from prevailing against it, that he hath not been able to shake it.
(_a_) Now again he tells us, that ‘election is not opposite to either’,
necessitation or compulsion. He might even as well tell us, that a stone
thrown upwards moves naturally; or that a woman can be ravished with her
own will. Consent takes away the rape. This is the strangest liberty
that ever was heard of, that a man is compelled to do what he would not,
and yet is free to do what he will. And this he tells us upon the old
score, that ‘he who submits to his enemy for fear of death, chooseth to
submit’. But we have seen formerly, that this which he calls compulsion,
is not compulsion properly, nor that natural determination of the will
to one, which is opposite to true liberty. He who submits to an enemy
for saving his life, doth either only counterfeit, and then there is no
will to submit; (this disguise is no more than a stepping aside to avoid
a present blow); or else he doth sincerely will a submission, and then
the will is changed. There is a vast difference between compelling and
changing the will. Either God or man may change the will of man, either
by varying the condition of things, or by informing the party otherwise:
but compelled it cannot be, that is, it cannot both will this and not
will this, as it is invested with the same circumstances; though, if the
act were otherwise circumstantiated, it might nill that freely which now
it wills freely. (_b_) Wherefore this kind of actions are called mixed
actions, that is partly voluntary, partly involuntary. That which is
compelled in a man’s present condition or distress, that is not
voluntary nor chosen. That which is chosen, as the remedy of its
distress, that is voluntary. So hypothetically, supposing a man were not
in that distress, they are involuntary; but absolutely without any
supposition at all, taking the case as it is, they are voluntary. (_c_)
His other instance of ‘a man forced to prison, that he may choose
whether he will be haled thither upon the ground, or walk upon his
feet,’ is not true. By his leave, that is not as he pleaseth, but as it
pleaseth them who have him in their power. If they will drag him, he is
not free to walk; and if they give him leave to walk, he is not forced
to be dragged. (_d_) Having laid this foundation, he begins to build
upon it, that ‘other passions do necessitate as much as fear’. But he
errs doubly; first, in his foundation. Fear doth not determine the
rational will naturally and necessarily. The last and greatest of the
five terrible things is death; yet the fear of death cannot necessitate
a resolved mind to do a dishonest action, which is worse than death. The
fear of the fiery furnace could not compel the three children to worship
an idol, nor the fear of the lions necessitate Daniel to omit his duty
to God. It is our frailty, that we are more afraid of empty shadows than
of substantial dangers, because they are nearer our senses; as little
children fear a mouse or a visard more than fire or weather. But as a
fit of the stone takes away the sense of the gout for the present, so
the greater passion doth extinguish the less. The fear of God’s wrath
and eternal torments doth expel corporeal fear: _fear not them who kill
the body, but fear him who is able to cast both body and soul into hell_
(Luke xii. 4). (_e_) _Da veniam imperator; tu carcerem, ille gehennam
minatur._--_Excuse me, O emperor, thou threatenest men with prison, but
he threatens me with hell._ (_f_) Secondly, he errs in his
superstruction also. There is a great difference, as to this case of
justifying, or not justifying an action, between force and fear, and
other passions. Force doth not only lessen the sin, but takes it quite
away. He who forced a betrothed damsel was to die; ‘but unto the
damsel,’ saith he, ‘thou shalt do nothing, there is in her no fault
worthy of death’ (Deut. xxii. 26). Tamar’s beauty, or Ammon’s love, did
not render him innocent; but Ammon’s force rendered Tamar innocent. But
fear is not so prevalent as force. Indeed if fear be great and justly
grounded, such as may fall upon a constant man, though it do not
dispense with the transgression of the negative precepts of God or
nature, because they bind to all times, yet it diminisheth the offence
even against them, and pleads for pardon. But it dispenseth in many
cases with the transgression of the positive law, either divine or
human; because it is not probable that God or the law would oblige man
to the observation of all positive precepts, with so great damage as the
loss of his life. The omission of circumcision was no sin, whilst the
Israelites were travelling through the wilderness. By T. H.’s
permission, (_g_) I will propose a case to him. A gentleman sends his
servant with money to buy a dinner; some Russians meet him by the way,
and take it from him by force; the servant cried for help, and did what
he could to defend himself, but all would not serve. The servant is
innocent, if he were to be tried before a court of Areopagites. Or
suppose the Russians did not take it from him by force, but drew their
swords and threatened to kill him except he delivered it himself; no
wise man will conceive, that it was either the master’s intention or the
servant’s duty to hazard his life or limbs for saving of such a trifling
sum. But on the other side, suppose this servant, passing by some
cabaret or tennis-court where his comrades were drinking or playing,
should stay with them, and drink or play away his money, and afterwards
plead, as T. H. doth here, that he was overcome by the mere strength of
temptation. I trow, neither T. H. nor any man else would admit of this
excuse, but punish him for it: because neither was he necessitated by
the temptation, and what strength it had was by his own fault, in
respect of that vicious habit which he had contracted of drinking or
gaming: (James i. 14): _Every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of
his own lust and enticed_. Disordered passions of anger, hatred, lust,
if they be consequent (as the case is here put by T. H.) and flow from
deliberation and election, they do not only not diminish the fault, but
they aggravate it, and render it much greater.

(_h_) “He talks much of the ‘motives to do and motives to forbear, how
they work upon and determine a man’; as if a reasonable man were no more
than a tennis-ball, to be tossed to and fro by the rackets of the second
causes; as if the will had no power to move itself, but were merely
passive, like an artificial popingay removed hither and thither by the
bolts of the archers, who shoot on this side and on that. What are
motives, but reasons or discourses framed by the understanding, and
freely moved by the will? What are the will and the understanding, but
faculties of the same soul? And what is liberty but a power resulting
from them both? To say that the will is determined by these motives, is
as much as to say that the agent is determined by himself. If there be
no necessitation before the judgment of right reason doth dictate to the
will, then there is no antecedent, no extrinsical necessitation at all.
(_i_) All the world knows, that when the agent is determined by himself,
then the effect is determined likewise in its cause. But if he
determined himself freely, then the effect is free. Motives determine
not naturally, but morally; which kind of determination may consist with
true liberty. But if T. H.’s opinion were true, that the will were
naturally determined by the physical and special influence of
extrinsical causes, not only motives were vain, but reason itself and
deliberation were vain. No, saith he, they are not vain, because they
are the means. Yes, if the means be superfluous, they are vain. What
needed such a circuit of deliberation to advise what is fit to be done,
when it is already determined extrinsically what must be done?

(_k_) “He saith, ‘that the ignorance of the true causes and their power,
is the reason why we ascribe the effect to liberty; but when we
seriously consider the causes of things, we acknowledge a necessity’. No
such thing, but just the contrary. The more we consider, and the clearer
we understand, the greater is the liberty, and the more the knowledge of
our own liberty. The less we consider, and the more incapable that the
understanding is, the lesser is the liberty, and the knowledge of it.
And where there is no consideration nor use of reason, there is no
liberty at all, there is neither moral good nor evil. Some men, by
reason that their exterior senses are not totally bound, have a trick to
walk in their sleep. Suppose such a one in that case should cast himself
down a pair of stairs or from a bridge, and break his neck or drown
himself; it were a mad jury that would find this man accessary to his
own death. Why? Because it was not freely done, he had not then the use
of reason.

(_l_) “Lastly, he tells us, that ‘the will doth choose of necessity, as
well as the fire burns of necessity’. If he intend no more but this,
that election is the proper and natural act of the will as burning is of
the fire, or that the elective power is as necessarily in a man as
visibility, he speaks truly, but most impertinently; for, the question
is not now of the elective power, _in actu primo_, whether it be an
essential faculty of the soul, but whether the act of electing this or
that particular object, be free and undetermined by any antecedent and
extrinsical causes. But if he intend it in this other sense, that as the
fire hath no power to suspend its burning, nor to distinguish between
those combustible matters which are put unto it, but burns that which is
put unto it necessarily, if it be combustible; so the will hath no power
to refuse that which it wills, nor to suspend its own appetite: he errs
grossly. The will hath power either to will or nill, or to suspend, that
is, neither to will nor nill the same object. Yet even the burning of
the fire, if it be considered as it is invested with all particular
circumstances, is not otherwise so necessary an action as T. H.
imagineth. (_m_) Two things are required to make an effect necessary.
First, that it be produced by a necessary cause, such as fire is;
secondly, that it be necessarily produced. Protagoras, an atheist, began
his book thus: ‘Concerning the Gods, I have nothing to say, whether they
be or they be not’: for which his book was condemned by the Athenians to
be burned. The fire was a necessary agent, but the sentence or the
application of the fire to the book was a free act; and therefore the
burning of his book was free. Much more the rational will is free, which
is both a voluntary agent, and acts voluntarily.

(_n_) “My second reason against this distinction, of liberty from
compulsion but not from necessitation, is new, and demonstrates clearly
that to necessitate the will by a physical necessity, is to compel the
will so far as the will is capable of compulsion; and that he who doth
necessitate the will to evil after that manner, is the true cause of
evil, and ought rather to be blamed than the will itself. But T. H., for
all he saith he is not surprised, can be contented upon better advise to
steal by all this in silence. And to hide this tergiversation from the
eyes of the reader, he makes an empty shew of braving against that
famous and most necessary distinction, between the _elicite_ and
_imperate_ acts of the will; first, because the terms are _improper_;
secondly, because they are _obscure_. What trivial and grammatical
objections are these, to be used against the universal current of
divines and philosophers. _Verborum ut nummorum_, it is in words as it
is in money: use makes them proper and current. A _tyrant_ at first
signified a lawful and just prince; now, use hath quite changed the
sense of it, to denote either a usurper or an oppressor. The word
_præmunire_ is now grown a good word in our English laws, by use and
tract of time; and yet at first it was merely mistaken for a
_præmonere_. The names of Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, were derived at first
from those heathenish deities, the Sun, the Moon, and the warlike god of
the Germans. Now we use them for distinction sake only, without any
relation to their first original. He is too froward, that will refuse a
piece of coin that is current throughout the world, because it is not
stamped after his own fancy. So is he that rejects a good word, because
he understands not the derivation of it. We see foreign words are daily
naturalized and made free denizens in every country. But why are the
terms improper? ‘Because,’ saith he, ‘it attributes command, and
subjection to the faculties of the soul, as if they made a commonwealth
or family among themselves, and could speak one to another.’ Therefore,
he saith, (_o_) they who invented this term of _actus imperatus_,
understood not anything what it signified. No; why not? It seemeth to
me, they understood it better than those who except against it. They
knew there are _mental terms_, which are only conceived in the mind, as
well as _vocal terms_, which are expressed with the tongue. They knew,
that howsoever a superior do intimate a direction to his inferior, it is
still a command. Tarquin commanded his son by only striking off the tops
of the poppies, and was by him both understood and obeyed. Though there
be no formal commonwealth or family either in the body or in the soul of
man, yet there is a subordination in the body, of the inferior members
to the head; there is a subordination in the soul, of the inferior
faculties to the rational will. Far be it from a reasonable man so far
to dishonour his own nature, as to equal fancy with understanding, or
the sensitive appetite with the reasonable will. A power of command
there is, without all question; though there be some doubt in what
faculty this command doth principally reside, whether in the will or in
the understanding. The true resolution is, that the directive command or
counsel is in the understanding; and the applicative command, or empire
for putting in execution of what is directed, is in the will. The same
answer serves for his second impropriety, about the word _elicite_. For
saith he, ‘as it is absurdly said, that to dance is an act allured, or
drawn by fair means, out of the ability to dance; so is it absurdly
said, that to will or choose, is an act drawn out of the power to will’.
His objection is yet more improper than the expression. The art of
dancing rather resembles the understanding than the will. That drawing
which the Schools intend, is clear of another nature from that which he
conceives. By _elicitation_, he understands a persuading or enticing
with flattering words, or sweet alluring insinuations, to choose this or
that. But that _elicitation_ which the Schools intend, is a deducing of
the power of the will into act; that drawing which they mention, is
merely from the appetibility of the object, or of the end. As a man
draws a child after him with the sight of a fair apple, or a shepherd
draws his sheep after him with the sight of a green bough: so the end
draws the will to it by a metaphorical motion. What he understands here
by an ability to dance, is more than I know, or any man else, until he
express himself in more proper terms; whether he understand the
locomotive faculty alone, or the art or acquired habit of dancing alone,
or both of these jointly. It may be said aptly without any absurdity,
that the act of dancing is drawn out (_elicitur_) of the locomotive
faculty helped by the acquired habit. He who is so scrupulous about the
received phrases of the Schools, should not have let so many improper
expressions have dropt from his pen; as in this very passage, he
confounds the _compelling_ of a voluntary action, with the _commanding_
of a voluntary action, and _willing_ with _electing_, which, he saith,
‘are all one’. Yet _to will_ properly respects the end, _to elect_ the
means.

(_p_) “His other objection against this distinction of the acts of the
will into _elicite_ and _imperate_, is obscurity. ‘Might it not,’ saith
he, ‘have been as easily said in English, a voluntary action.’ Yes, it
might have been said as easily, but not as truly, nor properly.
Whatsoever hath its original from the will, whether immediately or
mediately, whether it be a proper act of the will itself, as to elect,
or an act of the understanding, as to deliberate, or an act of the
inferior faculties or of the members, is a voluntary action: but neither
the act of reason, nor of the senses, nor of the sensitive appetite, nor
of the members, are the proper acts of the will, nor drawn immediately
out of the will itself; but the members and faculties are applied to
their proper and respective acts by the power of the will.

“And so he comes to cast up the total sum of my second reason with the
same faith that the unjust steward did make his accounts (Luke xvi).
‘The sum of J. D.’s distinction is,’ saith he, ‘that a voluntary act may
be done on compulsion,’ (just contrary to what I have maintained), ‘that
is to say, by foul means: but to will that or any act, cannot be but by
allurement or fair means.’ I confess the distinction is mine, because I
use it; as the sun is mine, or the air is mine, that is common to me
with all who treat of this subject. (_q_) But his mistakes are so thick,
both in relating my mind and his own, that the reader may conclude he is
wandered out of his known way. I will do my duty to show him the right
way. First, no acts which are properly said to be compelled, are
voluntary. Secondly, acts of terror, (which he calls foul means), which
are sometimes in a large improper sense called compulsory actions, may
be, and for the most part are, consistent with true liberty. Thirdly,
actions proceeding from blandishments or sweet persuasions, (which he
calls fair means), if they be indeliberated, as in children who want the
use of reason, are not presently free actions. Lastly, the strength of
consequent and deliberated desires doth neither diminish guilt, nor
excuse from punishment, as just fears of extreme and imminent dangers
threatened by extrinsical agents often do; because the strength of the
former proceeds from our own fault, and was freely elected in the causes
of it; but neither desires nor fears, which are consequent and
deliberated, do absolutely necessitate the will.

             ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XX.

(_a_) “Now again he tells us, that election is not opposite to either
necessitation or compulsion. He might even as well tell us, that a stone
thrown upwards moves naturally, or that a woman can be ravished with her
own will. Consent takes away the rape,” &c. If that which I have told
him again, be false, why shows he not why it is false? Here is not one
word of argument against it. To say, I might have said as well that a
stone thrown upwards moves naturally, is no refutation, but a denial. I
will not dispute with him, whether a stone thrown up move naturally or
not. I shall only say to those readers whose judgments are not defaced
with the abuse of words, that as a stone moveth not upwards of itself,
but by the power of the external agent who giveth it a beginning of that
motion; so also when the stone falleth, it is moved downward by the
power of some other agent, which, though it be imperceptible to the eye,
is not imperceptible to reason. But because this is not proper discourse
for the Bishop, and because I have elsewhere discoursed thereof
expressly, I shall say nothing of it here. And whereas he says, ‘consent
takes away the rape’; it may perhaps be true, and I think it is; but
here it not only inferreth nothing, but was also needless, and therefore
in a public writing is an indecent instance, though sometimes not
unnecessary in a spiritual court. In the next place, he wonders how “a
man is compelled, and yet free to do what he will”; that is to say, how
a man is made to will, and yet free to do what he will. If he had said,
he wondered how a man can be compelled to will, and yet be free to do
that which he would have done if he had not been compelled, it had been
somewhat; as it is, it is nothing. Again he says, “he who submits to an
enemy for saving his life, doth either only counterfeit, or else his
will is changed,” &c.: all which is true. But when he says he doth
counterfeit, he doth not insinuate that he may counterfeit lawfully; for
that would prejudice him hereafter, in case he should have need of
quarter. But how this maketh for him, or against me, I perceive not.
“There is a vast difference,” saith he, “between compelling and changing
the will. Either God or man may change the will of man, either by
varying the condition of things, or by informing the party otherwise;
but compelled it cannot be,” &c. I say the same; the will cannot be
compelled; but the man may be, and is then compelled, when his will is
changed by the fear of force, punishment, or other hurt from God or man.
And when his will is changed, there is a new will formed, (whether it be
by God or man), and that necessarily; and consequently the actions that
flow from that will, are both voluntary, free, and necessary,
notwithstanding that he was compelled to do them. Which maketh not for
the Bishop, but for me.

(_b_) “Wherefore this kind of actions are called mixed actions, that is
partly voluntary, partly involuntary, &c. So supposing a man were not in
that distress, they are involuntary.” That some actions are partly
voluntary, partly involuntary, is not a new, but a false opinion. For
one and the same action can never be both voluntary and involuntary. If
therefore parts of an action be actions, he says no more but that some
actions are voluntary, some involuntary; or that one multitude of
actions may be partly voluntary, partly involuntary. But that one action
should be partly voluntary, partly involuntary, is absurd. And it is the
absurdity of those authors which he unwarily gave credit to. But to say,
supposing the man had not been in distress, that then the action had
been involuntary, is to say, that the throwing of a man’s goods into the
sea, supposing he had not been in a storm, had been an involuntary
action; which is also an absurdity; for he would not have done it, and
therefore it had been no action at all. And this absurdity is his own.

(_c_) “His other instance of a man forced to prison, that he may choose
whether he will be haled thither upon the ground or walk upon his feet,
is not true. By his leave, that is not as he pleaseth, but as it
pleaseth them who have him in their power.” It is enough for the use I
make of that instance, that a man when in the necessity of going to
prison, though he cannot elect nor deliberate of being prisoner in the
jail, may nevertheless deliberate sometimes, whether he shall walk or be
haled thither.

(_d_) “Having laid this foundation, he begins to build upon it, that
other passions do necessitate as much as fear. But he errs doubly,” &c.
First, he says, I err in this, that I say that fear determines the
rational will naturally and necessarily. And first, I answer, that I
never used that term of rational will. There is nothing rational but
God, angels, and men. The will is none of these. I would not have
excepted against this expression, but that every where he speaketh of
the will and other faculties as of men, or spirits in men’s bellies.
Secondly, he offereth nothing to prove the contrary. For that which
followeth: “the last and greatest of five terrible things is death; yet
the fear of death cannot necessitate a resolved mind to a dishonest
action; the fear of the fiery furnace could not compel the three
children to worship an idol, nor the fear of the lions necessitate
Daniel to omit his duty to God,” &c.: I grant him that the greatest of
five (or of fifteen, for he had no more reason for five than fifteen)
terrible things doth not always necessitate a man to do a dishonest
action, and that the fear of the fiery furnace could not compel the
three children, nor the lions Daniel, to omit their duty; for somewhat
else, namely, their confidence in God, did necessitate them to do their
duty. That the fear of God’s wrath doth expel corporeal fear, is well
said, and according to the text he citeth: and proveth strongly, that
fear of the greater evil may necessitate in a man a courage to endure
the lesser evil.

(_e_) “_Da veniam imperator; tu carcerem, ille gehennam
minatur_:--Excuse me, O Emperor; thou threatenest men with prison, but
God threatens me with hell.” This sentence, and that which he saith No.
XVII, that neither the civil judge is the proper judge, nor the law of
the land is the proper rule of sin, and divers other sayings of his to
the same effect, make it impossible for any nation in the world to
preserve themselves from civil wars. For all men living equally
acknowledging, that the High and Omnipotent God is to be obeyed before
the greatest emperors; every one may pretend the commandment of God to
justify his disobedience. And if one man pretendeth that God commands
one thing, and another man that he commands the contrary, what equity is
there to allow the pretence of one more than of another? Or what peace
can there be, if they be all allowed alike? There will therefore
necessarily arise discord and civil war, unless there be a judge agreed
upon, with authority given to him by every one of them, to show them and
interpret to them the Word of God; which interpreter is always the
emperor, king, or other sovereign person, who therefore ought to be
obeyed. But the Bishop thinks that to shew us and interpret to us the
Word of God, belongeth to the clergy; wherein I cannot consent unto him.
Excuse me, O Bishop, you threaten me with that you cannot do; but the
emperor threateneth me with death, and is able to do what he
threateneth.

(_f_) “Secondly, he errs in his superstruction also. There is a great
difference, as to this case of justifying or not justifying an action,
between force and fear, &c. Force doth not only lessen the sin, but
takes it quite away, &c.” I know not to what point of my answer this
reply of his is to be applied. I had said, the actions of men compelled
are, nevertheless, voluntary. It seems that he calleth _compulsion_
force; but I call it a fear of force, or of damage to be done by force,
by which fear a man’s will is framed to somewhat to which he had no will
before. Force taketh away the sin, because the action is not his that is
forced, but his that forceth. It is not always so in compulsion;
because, in this case, a man electeth the _less evil_ under the notion
of _good_. But his instances of the betrothed damsel that was forced,
and of Tamar, may, for anything there appeareth in the text, be
instances of compulsion, and yet the damsel and Tamar be both innocent.
In that which immediately followeth, concerning how far fear may
extenuate a sin, there is nothing to be answered. I perceive in it he
hath some glimmering of the truth, but not of the grounds thereof. It is
true, that just fear dispenseth not with the precepts of God or nature;
for they are not dispensable; but it extenuateth the fault, not by
diminishing anything in the action, but by being no transgression. For
if the fear be allowed, the action it produceth is allowed also. Nor
doth it dispense in any case with the law positive, but by making the
action itself lawful; for the breaking of a law is always sin. And it is
certain that men are obliged to the observation of all positive
precepts, though with the loss of their lives, unless the right that a
man hath to preserve himself make it, in case of a just fear, to be no
law. “The omission of circumcision was no sin,” he says, “whilst the
Israelites were travelling through the wilderness.” It is very true, but
this has nothing to do with compulsion. And the cause why it was no sin,
was this: they were ready to obey it, whensoever God should give them
leisure and rest from travel, whereby they might be cured; or at least
when God, that daily spake to their conductor in the desert, should
appoint him to renew that sacrament.

(_g_) “I will propose a case to him,” &c. The case is this. A servant is
robbed of his master’s money by the highway, but is acquitted because he
was forced. Another servant spends his master’s money in a tavern. Why
is he not acquitted also, seeing he was necessitated? “Would,” saith he,
“T. H. admit of this excuse?” I answer, no: but I would do that to him,
which should necessitate him to behave himself better another time, or
at least necessitate another to behave himself better by his example.

(_h_) “He talks much of _the motives to do, and the motives to forbear_,
how they work upon and determine a man; as if a reasonable man were no
more than a tennis-ball, to be tossed to and fro by the rackets of the
second causes,” &c. May not great things be produced by second causes,
as well as little; and a foot-ball as well as a tennis-ball? But the
Bishop can never be driven from this, that the will hath power to move
itself; but says it is all one to say, that “an agent can determine
itself,” and that “the will is determined by motives extrinsical”. He
adds, that “if there be no necessitation before the judgment of right
reason doth dictate to the will, then there is no antecedent nor
extrinsical necessitation at all”. I say indeed, the effect is not
produced before the last dictate of the understanding; but I say not,
that the necessity was not before; he knows I say, it is from eternity.
When a cannon is planted against a wall, though the battery be not made
till the bullet arrive, yet the necessity was present all the while the
bullet was going to it, if the wall stood still: and if it slipped away,
the hitting of somewhat else was necessary, and that antecedently.

(_i_) “All the world knows, that when the agent is determined by
himself, then the effect is determined likewise in its cause.” Yes, when
the agent is determined by himself, then the effect is determined
likewise in its cause; and so anything else is what he will have it. But
nothing is determined by itself, nor is there any man in the world that
hath any conception answerable to those words. But “motives,” he says,
“determine not naturally, but morally”. This also is insignificant; for
all motion is natural or supernatural. Moral motion is a mere word,
without any imagination of the mind correspondent to it. I have heard
men talk of a motion in a court of justice; perhaps this is it which he
means by moral motion. But certainly, when the tongue of the judge and
the hands of the clerks are thereby moved, the motion is natural, and
proceeds from natural causes; which causes also were natural motions of
the tongue of the advocate. And whereas he adds, that if this were true,
then “not only motives, but reason itself and deliberation were vain”;
it hath been sufficiently answered before, that therefore they are not
vain, because by them is produced the effect. I must also note, that
oftentimes in citing my opinion he puts in instead of mine, those terms
of his own, which upon all occasions I complain of for absurdity; as
here he makes me to say, that which I did never say, “special influence
of extrinsical causes”.

(_k_) “He saith, that ‘the ignorance of the true causes and their power,
is the reason why we ascribe the effect to liberty; but when we
seriously consider the causes of things, we acknowledge a necessity.’ No
such thing, but just the contrary.” If he understand the authors which
he readeth upon this point, no better than he understands what I have
here written, it is no wonder he understandeth not the truth of the
question. I said not, that when we consider the causes of things, but
when we see and know the strength that moves us, we acknowledge
necessity. “No such thing,” says the Bishop, “but just the contrary; the
more we consider, and the clearer we understand, the greater is the
liberty,” &c. Is there any doubt, if a man could foreknow, as God
foreknows, that which is hereafter to come to pass, but that he would
also see and know the causes which shall bring it to pass, and how they
work, and make the effect necessary? For necessary it is, whatsoever God
foreknoweth. But we that foresee them not, may consider as much as we
will, and understand as clearly as we will, but are never the nearer to
the knowledge of their necessity; and that, I said, was the cause why we
impute those events to liberty, and not to causes.

(_l_) “Lastly, he tells us, that _the will doth choose of necessity, as
well as the fire burns of necessity_. If he intend no more but this,
that election is the proper and natural act of the will, as burning is
of the fire &c., he speaks truly, but most impertinently; for the
question is not now of the elective power, _in actu primo_, &c.” Here
again he makes me to speak nonsense. I said, “the man chooseth of
necessity”; he says I say, “the will chooseth of necessity”. And why:
but because he thinks I ought to speak as he does, and say as he does
here, that “election is the act of the will”. No: election is the act of
a man, as power to elect is the power of a man. Election and will are
all one act of a man; and the power to elect, and the power to will, one
and the same power of a man. But the Bishop is confounded by the use of
calling by the name of will, the power of willing in the future; as they
also were confounded, that first brought in this senseless term of
_actus primus_. My meaning is, that the election I shall have of
anything hereafter, is now as necessary, as that the fire, that now is
and continueth, shall burn any combustible matter thrown into it
hereafter: or to use his own terms, the will hath no more power to
suspend its willing, than the burning of the fire to suspend its
burning: or rather more properly, the man hath no more power to suspend
his will, than the fire to suspend its burning. Which is contrary to
that which he would have, namely, that a man should have power to refuse
what he wills, and to suspend his own appetite. For to refuse what one
willeth, implieth a contradiction; the which also is made much more
absurd by his expression. For he saith, the will hath power to refuse
what it wills, and to suspend its own appetite: whereas _the will_, and
_the willing_, and _the appetite_ is the same thing. He adds that “even
the burning of the fire, if it be considered as it is invested with all
particular circumstances, is not so necessary an action as T. H.
imagineth”. He doth not sufficiently understand what I imagine. For I
imagine, that of the fire which shall burn five hundred years hence, I
may truly say now, it shall burn necessarily; and of that which shall
not burn then, (for fire may sometimes not burn the combustible matter
thrown into it, as in the case of the three children), that it is
necessary it shall not burn.

(_m_) “Two things are required to make an effect necessary: first that
it be produced by a necessary cause, &c.: secondly, that it be
necessarily produced, &c.” To this I say nothing, but that I understand
not how a cause can be necessary, and the effect not be necessarily
produced.

(_n_) “My second reason against this distinction of liberty from
compulsion, but not from necessitation, is new, and demonstrates
clearly, that to necessitate the will by a physical necessity, is to
compel the will, so far as the will is capable of compulsion; and that
he who doth necessitate the will to evil after that manner, is the true
cause of evil, &c.” By this second reason, which he says _is new, and
demonstrates_, &c, I cannot find what reason he means. For there are but
two, whereof the latter is in these words: “Secondly, to rip up the
bottom of this business, this I take to be the clear resolution of the
Schools; there is a double act of the will; the one more remote, called
_imperatus_, &c.; the other act is nearer, called _actus elicitus_,” &c.
But I doubt whether this be it he means, or no. For this being the
resolution of the Schools, is not new; and being a distinction only, is
no demonstration; though perhaps he may use the word demonstration, as
every unlearned man now-a-days does, to signify any argument of his own.
As for the distinction itself, because the terms are Latin, and never
used by any author of the Latin tongue, to shew their impertinence I
expounded them in English, and left them to the reader’s judgment to
find the absurdity of them himself. And the Bishop in this part of his
reply endeavours to defend them. And first, he calls it a trivial and
grammatical objection, to say they are _improper_ and _obscure_. Is
there anything less beseeming a _divine_ or a _philosopher_, than to
speak _improperly_ and _obscurely_, where the truth is in question?
Perhaps it may be tolerable in one that divineth, but not in him that
pretendeth to demonstrate. It is not the universal current of divines
and philosophers, that giveth words their authority, but the generality
of them who acknowledge that they understand them. _Tyrant_ and
_præmunire_, though their signification be changed, yet they are
understood; and so are the names of the days, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday.
And when English readers not engaged in School divinity, shall find
_imperate_ and _elicit acts_ as intelligible as those, I will confess I
had no reason to find fault.

But my braving against that famous and most necessary distinction,
between the elicit and imperate acts of the will, he says was only to
hide from the eyes of the reader a tergiversation in not answering this
argument of his; ‘he who doth necessitate the will to evil, is the true
cause of evil; but God is not the cause of evil; therefore he does not
necessitate the will to evil’. This argument is not to be found in this
No. XX., to which I here answered; nor had I ever said that the will was
compelled. But he, taking all necessitation for compulsion, doth now in
this place, from necessitation simply, bring in this inference
concerning the cause of evil, and thinks he shall force me to say that
God is the cause of sin. I shall say only what is said in the Scripture,
_non est malum, quod ego non feci_. I shall say what Micaiah saith to
Ahab, (1 Kings xxii. 23): _Behold, the Lord hath put a lying spirit into
the mouth of all these thy prophets_. I shall say that that is true,
which the prophet David saith (2 Sam. xvi. 10): _Let him curse; because
the Lord hath said unto him, curse David_. But that which God himself
saith of himself (1 Kings xii. 15): _The king hearkened not to the
people, for the cause was from the Lord_: I will not say, least the
Bishop exclaim against me; but leave it to be interpreted by those that
have authority to interpret the Scriptures. I say further, that to cause
sin is not always sin, nor can be sin in him that is not subject to some
higher power; but to use so unseemly a phrase, as to say that God is the
cause of sin, because it soundeth so like to saying that God sinneth, I
can never be forced by so weak an argument as this of his. Luther says,
_we act necessarily; necessarily by necessity of immutability, not by
necessity of constraint_: that is in plain English, necessarily, but not
against our wills. Zanchius says, (_Tract. Theol._ cap. VI. Thes. I.):
_The freedom of our will doth not consist in this, that there is no
necessity of our sinning; but in this, that there is no constraint_.
Bucer (_Lib. de Concordia_): _Whereas the Catholics say, man has free
will, we must understand it of freedom from constraint, and not freedom
from necessity_. Calvin (_Inst._ cap. II. sec. VI.): _And thus shall man
be said to have free will, not because he hath equal freedom to do good
and evil, but because he does the evil he does, not by constraint, but
willingly_. Monsr. du Moulin, in his _Buckler of the Faith_ (art. IX):
_The necessity of sinning is not repugnant to the freedom of the will.
Witness the devils, who are necessarily wicked, and yet sin freely
without constraint._ And the Synod of Dort: _Liberty is not opposite to
all kinds of necessity and determination. It is indeed opposite to the
necessity of constraint: but standeth well enough with the necessity of
infallibility._ I could add more: for all the famous doctors of the
Reformed Churches, and with them St. Augustin, are of the same opinion.
None of these denied that God is the cause of all motion and action, or
that God is the cause of all laws; and yet they were never forced to
say, that God is the cause of sin.

(_o_) “‘They who invented this term of _actus imperatus_, understood
not’, he saith, ‘any thing what it signified.’ No? Why not? It seemeth
to me, they understood it better than those who except against it. They
knew there are _mental terms_, which are only conceived in the mind, as
well as _vocal terms_, which are expressed with the tongue, &c.” In this
place the Bishop hath discovered the ground of all his errors in
philosophy, which is this; that he thinketh, when he repeateth the words
of a proposition in his mind, that is, when he fancieth the words
without speaking them, that then he conceiveth the things which the
words signify: and this is the most general cause of false opinions. For
men can never be deceived in the conceptions of things, though they may
be, and are most often deceived by giving unto them wrong terms or
appellations, different from those which are commonly used and
constituted to signify their conceptions. And therefore they that study
to attain the certain knowledge of the truth, do use to set down
beforehand all the terms they are to express themselves by, and declare
in what sense they shall use them constantly. And by this means, the
reader having an idea of every thing there named, cannot conceive amiss.
But when a man from the hearing of a word hath no idea of the thing
signified, but only of the sound and of the letters whereof the word is
made, which is that he here calleth _mental terms_, it is impossible he
should conceive aright, or bring forth any thing but absurdity; as he
doth here, when he says, “that when Tarquin delivered his commands to
his son by only striking off the tops of the poppies, he did it by
_mental terms_”; as if to strike off the head of a poppy, were a mental
term. It is the sound and the letters, that maketh him think _elicitus_
and _imperatus_ somewhat. And it is the same thing that makes him say,
for think it he cannot, that to will or choose, is drawn, or allured, or
fetched out of the power to will. For drawing cannot be imagined but of
bodies; and therefore to will, to speak, to write, to dance, to leap, or
any way to be moved, cannot be said intelligibly to be _drawn_, much
less to be drawn out of a power, that is to say, out of an ability; for
whatsoever is drawn out, is drawn out of one place into another. He that
can discourse in this manner in philosophy, cannot probably be thought
able to discourse rationally in any thing.

(_p_) “His other objection against this distinction of the acts of the
will into _elicit_ and _imperate_, is obscurity. ‘Might it not,’ saith
he, ‘have been as easily said in English, _a voluntary action_?’ Yes it
might have been said as easily, but not as truly, nor as properly.” He
says, _actus imperatus_ is when a man opens or shuts his eyes at the
command of the will. I say, when a man opens and shuts his eyes
according to his will, that it is a voluntary action; and I believe we
mean one and the same thing. Whether of us speak more properly or more
truly, let the reader judge.

(_q_) “But his mistakes are so thick, &c., I will do my duty to shew him
the right way. First, no acts which are properly said to be compelled,
are voluntary. Secondly, acts of terror, &c.” This is nothing but Tohu
and Bohu.

                                NO. XXI.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “The rest are umbrages quickly dispelled. First, the astrologer
steps up, and subjects liberty to the motions of heaven, to the aspects
and ascensions of the stars:

             ----Plus etenim fati valet hora benigni,
             Quam si nos Veneris commendet epistola Marti.

“I stand not much upon them, who cannot see the fishes swimming beside
them in the rivers, yet believe they see those which are in heaven; who
promise great treasures to others, and beg a groat for themselves. The
stars at the most do but incline, they cannot necessitate.

“Secondly, the physician subjects liberty to the complexion and
temperature of the body. But yet this comes not home to a necessity.
Socrates, and many others, by assiduous care have corrected the
pernicious propensions, which flowed from their temperatures.”

_T. H._ In the rest of his discourse he reckoneth up the opinions of
certain professions of men, touching the causes wherein the necessity of
things, which they maintain, consisteth. And first, he saith, the
astrologer deriveth his necessity from the stars. Secondly, that the
physician attributeth it to the temper of the body. For my part, I am
not of their opinion; because neither the stars alone, nor the
temperature of the patient alone is able to produce any effect without
the concurrence of all other agents. For there is hardly any one action,
how casual soever it seem, to the causing whereof concur not whatsoever
is _in rerum natura_. Which, because it is a great paradox, and depends
on many antecedent speculations, I do not press in this place.

_J. D._ “Towards the latter end of my discourse, I answered some
specious pretences against liberty. The two first were of the astrologer
and the physician: the one subjecting liberty to the motions and
influences of the heavenly bodies; the other to the complexions of men.
(_a_) The sum of my answer was, that the stars and complexions do
incline, but not at all necessitate the will: to which all judicious
astronomers and physicians do assent. And T. H. himself doth not dissent
from it. So as to this part, there needs no reply.

(_b_) “But whereas he mentions a ‘great paradox of his own, that there
is hardly any one action to the causing of which concurs not whatsoever
is _in rerum natura_’; I can but smile to see with what ambition our
great undertakers do affect to be accounted the first founders of
strange opinions, as if the devising of an ill-grounded paradox were as
great an honour as the invention of the needle, or the discovery of the
new world. And as to this paradox in particular, I meddle not with
natural actions, because the subject of my discourse is moral liberty.
But if he intend not only the kinds of things, but every individual
creature, and not only in natural but voluntary actions, I desire to
know how Prester John, or the great Mogul, or the king of China, or any
one of so many millions of their subjects, do concur to my writing of
this reply. If they do not, among his other speculations concerning this
matter I hope he will give us some restrictions. It were hard to make
all the negroes accessary to all the murders that are committed in
Europe.”

            ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XXI.

There is not much in this part of his reply that needeth animadversion.
But I must observe, where he saith, (_a_) “the sum of my answer was,
that the stars and complexions do incline, but not at all necessitate
the will:” he answereth nothing at all to me, who attribute not the
necessitation of the will to the stars and complexions, but to the
aggregate of all things together that are in motion. I do not say, that
the stars or complexions of themselves do incline men to will; but when
men are inclined, I must say that that inclination was necessitated by
some causes or other.

(_b_) “But whereas he mentions ‘a great paradox of his own; that there
is hardly any one action, to the causing of which concurs not whatsoever
is _in rerum natura_’; I can but smile to see with what ambition our
great undertakers do affect to be accounted the first founders of
strange opinions, &c.” The Bishop speaks often of paradoxes with such
scorn or detestation, that a simple reader would take a paradox either
for felony or some other heinous crime, or else for some ridiculous
turpitude; whereas perhaps a judicious reader knows what the word
signifies; and that a paradox, is an opinion not yet generally received.
Christian religion was once a paradox; and a great many other opinions
which the Bishop now holdeth, were formerly paradoxes. Insomuch as when
a man calleth an opinion a paradox, he doth not say it is untrue, but
signifieth his own ignorance; for if he understood it, he would call it
either a truth or an error. He observes not, that but for paradoxes we
should be now in that savage ignorance, which those men are in that have
not, or have not long had laws and commonwealth, from whence proceedeth
science and civility. There was not long since a scholar that
maintained, that if the least thing that had weight should be laid down
upon the hardest body that could be, supposing it an anvil of diamant,
it would at the first access make it yield. This I thought, and much
more the Bishop would have thought, a paradox. But when he told me, that
either that would do it, or all the weight of the world would not do it,
because if the whole weight did it, every the least part thereof would
do its part, I saw no reason to dissent. In like manner when I say,
‘there is hardly any one action to the causing of which concurs not
whatsoever is _in rerum natura_;’ it seems to the Bishop a great
paradox; and if I should say that all action is the effect of motion,
and that there cannot be a motion in one part of the world, but the same
must also be communicated to all the rest of the world, he would say
that this were no less a paradox. But yet if I should say, that if a
lesser body, as a concave sphere or tun, were filled with air, or other
liquid matter, and that any one little particle thereof were moved, all
the rest would be moved also, he would conceive it to be true, or if not
he, a judicious reader would. It is not the greatness of the tun that
altereth the case; and therefore the same would be true also, if the
whole world were the tun; for it is the greatness of this tun that the
Bishop comprehendeth not. But the truth is comprehensible enough, and
may be said without ambition of being the founder of strange opinions.
And though a grave man may smile at it, he that is both grave and wise
will not.

                               NO. XXII.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Thirdly, the moral philosopher tells us how we are haled hither
and thither with outward objects. To this I answer, “First, that the
power which outward objects have over us, is for the most part by our
own default, because of those vicious habits which we have contracted.
Therefore though the actions seem to have a kind of violence in them,
yet they were free and voluntary in their first originals. As a
paralytic man, to use Aristotle’s comparison, shedding the liquor
deserves to be punished, for though his act be unwilling, yet his
intemperance was willing, whereby he contracted this infirmity.

“Secondly I answer, that concupiscence, and custom, and bad company, and
outward objects do indeed make a proclivity, but not a necessity. By
prayers, tears, meditations, vows, watchings, fastings, humi-cubations,
a man may get a contrary habit, and gain the victory, not only over
outward objects, but also over his own corruptions, and become the king
of the little world of himself.

               Si metuis, si prava cupis, si duceris irâ,
               Servitii patiere jugum, tolerabis iniquas
               Interius leges. Tunc omnia jure tenebis,
               Cum poteris rex esse tui.

“Thirdly, a resolved mind, which weighs all things judiciously and
provides for all occurrences, is not so easily surprised with outward
objects. Only Ulysses wept not at the meeting with his wife and son. I
would beat thee, said the philosopher, but that I am angry. One spake
lowest, when he was most moved. Another poured out the water, when he
was thirsty. Another made a covenant with his eyes. Neither opportunity
nor enticement could prevail with Joseph. Nor the music nor the fire,
with the three children. It is not the strength of the wind, but the
lightness of the chaff, which causeth it to be blown away. Outward
objects do not impose a moral, much less a physical necessity; they may
be dangerous, but cannot be destructive to true liberty.”

_T. H._ Thirdly, he disputeth against the opinion of them that say,
external objects presented to men of such and such temperatures, do make
their actions necessary; and says, the power, that such objects have
over us, proceeds from our own fault. But that is nothing to the
purpose, if such fault of ours proceedeth from causes not in our own
power. And therefore that opinion may hold true, for all this answer.
Further, he saith, prayer, fasting, &c., may alter our habits. It is
true: but when they do so, they are causes of the contrary habit, and
make it necessary; as the former habit had been necessary, if prayer,
fasting, &c., had not been. Besides we are not moved, nor disposed to
prayer or any other action, but by outward objects, as pious company,
godly preachers, or something equivalent. In the next place he saith, a
resolved mind is not easily surprised. As the mind of Ulysses, who, when
others wept, he alone wept not. And of the philosopher that abstained
from striking, because he found himself angry. And of him that poured
out the water, when he was thirsty; and the like. Such things I confess
have, or may have been done; and do prove only that it was not necessary
for Ulysses then to weep, nor for the philosopher to strike, nor for
that other man to drink: but it does not prove that it was not necessary
for Ulysses then to abstain, as he did, from weeping; nor the
philosopher to abstain, as he did, from striking; nor the other man to
forbear drinking. And yet that was the thing he ought to have proved.

Lastly, he confesseth that the disposition of objects may be dangerous
to liberty, but cannot be destructive. To which I answer, it is
impossible; for liberty is never in any other danger than to be lost.
And if it cannot be lost, which he confesseth, I may infer it can be in
no danger at all.

_J. D._ (_a_) “The third pretence was out of moral philosophy
misunderstood, that outward objects do necessitate the will. I shall not
need to repeat what he hath omitted, but only to satisfy his exceptions.
(_b_) The first is, that ‘it is not material, ’though the power of
outward objects do proceed from our own faults, if such faults of ours
proceed not from causes in our own power’. Well, but what if they do
proceed from causes that are in our own power, as in truth they do? Then
his answer is a mere subterfuge. If our faults proceed from causes that
are not, and were not in our own power, then they are not our faults at
all. It is not a fault in us, not to do those things which never were in
our power to do: but they are the faults of these causes from whence
they do proceed. (_c_) Next he confesseth, that it is in our power, by
good endeavours, to alter those vicious habits which we had contracted,
and to get the contrary habit. ‘True,’ saith he, ‘but then the contrary
habit doth necessitate the one way, as well as the former habit did the
other way.’ By which very consideration it appears, that that which he
calls a necessity, is no more but a proclivity. If it were a true
necessity, it could not be avoided nor altered by our endeavours. The
truth is, acquired habits do help and assist the faculty; but they do
not necessitate the faculty. He who hath gotten to himself an habit of
temperance, may yet upon occasion commit an intemperate act. And so on
the contrary. Acts are not opposed to habits, but other habits. (_d_) He
adds, ‘that we are not moved to prayer or any other action, but by
outward objects, as pious company, godly preachers, or something
equivalent’. Wherein are two other mistakes: first, to make godly
preachers and pious company to be outward objects; which are outward
agents: secondly, to affirm that the will is not moved but by outward
objects. The will is moved by itself, by the understanding, by the
sensitive passions, by angels good and bad, by men; and most effectually
by acts or habits infused by God, whereby the will is excited
extraordinarily indeed, but efficaciously and determinately. This is
more than equivalent with outward objects.

“Another branch of mine answer was, that a resolved and prepared mind is
able to resist both the appetibility of objects, and the unruliness of
passions: as I showed by example. (_e_) He answers, that I prove Ulysses
was not necessitated to weep, nor the philosopher to strike; but I do
not prove that they were not necessitated to forbear. He saith true. I
am not now proving, but answering. Yet my answer doth sufficiently prove
that which I intend; that the rational will hath power, both to slight
the most appetible objects, and to control the most unruly passions.
When he hath given a clear solution to those proofs which I have
produced, then it will be time for him to cry for more work.

“Lastly, whereas I say, that outward objects may be dangerous, but
cannot be destructive to true liberty; he catcheth at it, (_f_) and
objects, that ‘liberty is in no danger but to be lost; but I say it
cannot be lost, therefore’, he infers that, ‘it is in no danger at all.’
I answer, first, that liberty is in more danger to be abused, than to be
lost. Many more men do abuse their wits, than lose them. Secondly,
liberty is in danger likewise to be weakened or diminished; as when it
is clogged by vicious habits contracted by ourselves, and yet it is not
totally lost. Thirdly, though liberty cannot be totally lost out of the
world, yet it may be totally lost to this or that particular man, as to
the exercise of it. Reason is the root of liberty; and though nothing be
more natural to a man than reason, yet many by excess of study, or by
continual gormandizing, or by some extravagant passion which they have
cherished in themselves, or by doting too much upon some affected
object, do become very sots, and deprive themselves of the use of
reason, and consequently of liberty. And when the benefit of liberty is
not thus universally lost, yet it may be lost respectively to this or
that particular occasion. As he who makes choice of a bad wife, hath
lost his former liberty to choose a good one.”

            ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XXII.

(_a_) “The third pretence was out of moral philosophy misunderstood,
that outward objects do necessitate the will.” I cannot imagine how the
question, whether outward objects do necessitate or not necessitate the
will, can any way be referred to moral philosophy. The principles of
moral philosophy are the laws; wherewith outward objects have little to
do, as being for the most part inanimate, and which follow always the
force of nature without respect to moral laws. Nor can I conceive what
purpose he had to bring this into his reply to my answer, wherein I
attribute nothing in the action of outward objects to morality.

(_b_) “His first exception is, that ‘it is not material that the power
of outward objects do proceed from our own faults, if such faults of
ours proceed not from causes in our own power’. Well, but what if they
do proceed from causes that are in our own power, as in truth they do?
Then his answer is a mere subterfuge.” But how proves he that in truth
they do? ‘Because else,’ saith he, ‘they are not our faults at all.’
Very well reasoned. A horse is lame from a cause that was not in his
power: therefore the lameness is no fault in the horse. But his meaning
is, it is no injustice unless the causes were in his own power. As if it
were not injustice, whatsoever is willingly done against the law;
whatsoever it be, that is the cause of the will to do it.

(_c_) “Next he confesseth, that it is in our power by good endeavours to
alter those vicious habits which we had contracted, and to get the
contrary habits.” There is no such confession in my answer. I said,
prayer, fasting, &c., may alter our habits. But I never said that the
will to pray, fast, &c. is in our own power. “‘True,’ saith he, ‘but
then the contrary habit doth necessitate the one way, as well as the
former habit did the other way.’ By which very consideration it appears,
that that which he calls a necessity, is no more but a proclivity. If it
were a true necessity, it could not be avoided, nor altered by our
endeavours.” Again he mistakes: for I said that prayer, fasting, &c.
when they alter our habits, do necessarily cause the contrary habits;
which is not to say, that the habit necessitates, but is necessitated.
But this is common with him, to make me say that which out of reading,
not out of meditation, he useth to say himself. But how doth it appear,
that prayer and fasting, &c. make but a proclivity in men to do what
they do? For if it were but a proclivity, then what they do they do not.
Therefore they either necessitate the will, or the will followeth not. I
contend for the truth of this only, that when the will followeth them,
they necessitate the will; and when a proclivity followeth, they
necessitate the proclivity. But the Bishop thinks I maintain, that that
also is produced necessarily, which is not produced at all.

(_d_) “He adds, ‘that we are not moved to prayer or any other action,
but by outward objects, as pious company, and godly preachers, or
something equivalent’. Wherein are two other mistakes: first, to make
godly preachers and pious company to be outward objects, which are
outward agents; secondly, to affirm that the will is not moved but by
outward objects. The will is moved by itself, &c”. The first mistake, he
urgeth that I call preachers and company objects. Is not the preacher to
the hearer the object of his hearing? No, perhaps he will say, it is the
voice which is the object; and that we hear not the preacher, but his
voice; as before he said, the object of sight was not the cause of
sight. I must therefore once more make him smile with a great paradox,
which is this; that in all the senses, the object is the agent; and that
it is, when we hear a preacher, the preacher that we hear; and that his
voice is the same thing with the hearing and a fancy in the hearer,
though the motion of the lips and other organs of speech be his that
speaketh. But of this I have written more largely in a more proper
place.

My second mistake, in affirming that the will is not moved but by
outward objects, is a mistake of his own. For I said not, the will is
not moved, but we are not moved: for I always avoid attributing motion
to any thing but body. The will is produced, generated, formed, and
created in such sort as accidents are effected in a corporeal subject;
but moved it cannot be, because it goeth not from place to place. And
whereas he saith, “the will is moved by itself,” if he had spoken
properly as he ought to do, and said, the will is made or created by
itself, he would presently have acknowledged that it was impossible. So
that it is not without cause men use improper language, when they mean
to keep their errors from being detected. And because nothing can move
that is not itself moved, it is untruly said that either the will or any
thing else is moved by itself, by the understanding, by the sensitive
passions, or by acts or habits; or that acts or habits are infused by
God. For infusion is motion, and nothing is moved but bodies.

(_e_) “He answers, that I prove Ulysses was not necessitated to weep,
nor the philosopher to strike, but I do not prove that they were not
necessitated to forbear. He saith true; I am not now proving, but
answering.” By his favour, though he be answering now, he was proving
then. And what he answers now, maketh nothing more toward a proof than
was before. For these words, “the rational will hath power to slight the
most appetible objects, and to control the most unruly passions,” are no
more, being reduced into proper terms, than this: the appetite hath
power to be without appetite towards most appetible objects, and to will
contrary to the most unruly will; which is jargon.

(_f_) “He objects that ‘liberty is in no danger, but to be lost; but I
say it cannot be lost; therefore’, he infers, ‘that it is in no danger
at all.’ I answer, first, that liberty is in more danger to be abused,
than lost, &c.; secondly, liberty is in danger likewise to be weakened
by vicious habits; thirdly, it may be totally lost.” It is true that a
man hath more liberty one time than another, and in one place than
another; which is a difference of liberty as to the body. But as to the
liberty of doing what we will, in those things we are able to do it
cannot be greater one time than another. Consequently outward objects
can no ways endanger liberty, further than it destroyeth it. And his
answer, that liberty is in more danger to be abused than lost, is not to
the question, but a mere shift to be thought not silenced. And whereas
he says liberty is diminished by vicious habits, it cannot be understood
otherwise than that vicious habits make a man the less free to do
vicious actions; which I believe is not his meaning. And lastly, whereas
he says that “liberty is lost, when reason is lost; and that they who by
excess of study, or by continual gormandising, or by extravagant
passion, &c., do become sots, have consequently lost their liberty”: it
requireth proof. For, for any thing that I can observe, mad men and
fools have the same liberty that other men have, in those things that
are in their power to do.

                               NO. XXIII.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Fourthly, the natural philosopher doth teach, that the will
doth necessarily follow the last dictate of the understanding. It is
true indeed the will should follow the direction of the understanding;
but I am not satisfied that it doth evermore follow it. Sometimes this
saying hath place: _video meliora proboque, deteriora sequor_. As that
great Roman said of two suitors, that the one produced the better
reasons, but the other must have the office. So reason often lies
dejected at the feet of affection. Things nearer to the senses move more
powerfully. Do what a man can, he shall sorrow more for the death of his
child, than for the sin of his soul; yet appreciatively in the
estimation of judgment, he accounts the offence of God a greater evil
than any temporal loss.

“Next, I do not believe that a man is bound to weigh the expedience or
inexpedience of every ordinary trivial action to the least grain in the
balance of his understanding; or to run up into his watch-tower with his
perspective to take notice of every jackdaw that flies by, for fear of
some hidden danger. This seems to me to be a prostitution of reason to
petit observations as concerning every rag that a man wears, each drop
of drink, each morsel of bread that he eats, each pace that he walks.
Thus many steps must he go, not one more nor one less, under pain of
mortal sin. What is this but a rack and a gibbet to the conscience? But
God leaves many things indifferent: though man may be so curious, he
will not. A good architect will be sure to provide sufficient materials
for his building; but what particular number of stones or trees, he
troubles not his head. And suppose he _should_ weigh each action thus,
yet he _doth_ not; so still there is liberty. Thirdly, I conceive it is
possible in this mist and weakness of human apprehension, for two
actions to be so equally circumstantiated, that no discernible
difference can appear between them upon discussion. As suppose a
chirurgeon should give two plaisters to his patient, and bid him apply
either of them to his wound; what can induce his reason more to the one
than to the other, but that he may refer it to chance whether he will
use?

But leaving these probable speculations, which I submit to better
judgments, I answer the philosopher briefly thus: admitting that the
will did necessarily follow the last dictate of the understanding, as
certainly in many things it doth: yet, first, this is no extrinsical
determination from without, and a man’s own resolution is not
destructive to his own liberty, but depends upon it. So the person is
still free.

“Secondly, this determination is not antecedent, but joined with the
action. The understanding and the will, are not different agents, but
distinct faculties of the same soul. Here is an infallibility, or an
hypothetical necessity as we say, _quicquid est, quando est, necesse est
esse_: a necessity of consequence, but not a necessity of consequent.
Though an agent have certainly determined, and so the action be become
infallible, yet if the agent did determine freely, the action likewise
is free.”

_T. H._ The fourth opinion which he rejecteth, is of them that make the
will necessarily to follow the last dictate of the understanding; but it
seems he understands that tenet in another sense than I do. For he
speaketh as if they that held it, did suppose men must dispute the
sequel of every action they do, great and small, to the least grain;
which is a thing that he thinks with reason to be untrue. But I
understand it to signify, that the will follows the last opinion or
judgment, immediately preceding the action, concerning whether it be
good to do it or not; whether he hath weighed it long before, or not at
all. And that I take to be the meaning of them that hold it. As for
example: when a man strikes, his will to strike follows necessarily that
thought he had of the sequel of his stroke, immediately before the
lifting of his hand. Now if it be understood in that sense, the last
dictate of the understanding does certainly necessitate the action,
though not as the whole cause, yet as the last cause: as the last
feather necessitates the breaking of a horse’s back, when there are so
many laid on before, as there needeth but the addition of that one to
make the weight sufficient. That which he allegeth against this, is
first, out of a poet, who in the person of Medea says, _video meliora
proboque, deteriora sequor_. But the saying, as pretty as it is, is not
true. For though Medea saw many reasons to forbear killing her children,
yet the last dictate of her judgment was that the present revenge on her
husband outweighed them all; and thereupon the wicked action followed
necessarily. Then the story of the Roman, that of two competitors said
one had the better reasons, but the other must have the office: this
also maketh against him. For the last dictate of his judgment that had
the bestowing of the office, was this; that it was better to take a
great bribe, than reward a great merit. Thirdly, he objects, that things
nearer the senses move more powerfully than reason. What followeth
thence but this; that the sense of the present good is commonly more
immediate to the action, than the foresight of the evil consequents to
come? Fourthly, whereas he says, that do what a man can, he shall sorrow
more for the death of his son, than for the sin of his soul: it makes
nothing to the last dictate of the understanding; but it argues plainly,
that sorrow for sin is not voluntary. And by consequence, repentance
proceedeth from causes.

_J. D._ “The fourth pretence alleged against liberty was, that the will
doth necessarily follow the last dictate of the understanding. This
objection is largely answered before in several places of this reply,
and particularly No. VII. In my former discourse I gave two answers to
it: the one certain and undoubted, that (_a_) supposing the last dictate
of the understanding did always determine the will, yet this
determination being not antecedent in time, nor proceeding from
extrinsical causes, but from the proper resolution of the agent, who had
now freely determined himself, it makes no absolute necessity, but only
hypothetical, upon supposition that the agent hath determined his own
will after this or that manner. Which being the main answer, T. H. is so
far from taking it away, that he takes no notice of it. The other part
of mine answer was probable; that it is not always certain that the will
doth always actually follow the last dictate of the understanding,
though it always ought to follow it. (_b_) Of which I gave then three
reasons. One was, that actions may be so equally circumstantiated, or
the case so intricate, that reason cannot give a positive sentence, but
leaves the election to liberty or chance. To this he answers not a word.
Another of my reasons was, because reason doth not weigh, nor is bound
to weigh the convenience or inconvenience of every individual action to
the uttermost grain in the balance of true judgment. The truth of this
reason is confessed by T. H.; though he might have had more abetters in
this than in the most part of his discourse, that nothing is
indifferent; that a man cannot stroke his beard on one side, but it was
either necessary to do it, or sinful to omit it. From which confession
of his it follows, that in all those actions wherein reason doth not
define what is most convenient, there the will is free from the
determination of the understanding; and by consequence the last feather
is wanting to break the horse’s back. A third reason was, because
passions and affections sometimes prevail against judgment: as I proved
by the example of Medea and Cæsar, by the nearness of the objects to the
senses, and by the estimation of a temporal loss more than sin. Against
this reason his whole answer is addressed. And first, (_c_) he
explaineth the sense of the assertion by the comparison of the last
feather; wherewith he seems to be delighted, seeing he useth it now the
second time. But let him like it as he will, it is improper, for three
reasons. First, the determination of the judgment is no part of the
weight, but is the sentence of the trier. The understanding weigheth all
things, objects, means, circumstances, convenience, inconvenience; but
itself is not weighed. Secondly, the sensitive passion, in some
extraordinary cases, may give a counterfeit weight to the object, if it
can detain or divert reason from the balance: but ordinarily the means,
circumstances, and causes concurrent, they have their whole weight from
the understanding; so as they do not press the horse’s back at all,
until reason lay them on. Thirdly, he conceives that as each feather has
a certain natural weight, whereby it concurs not arbitrarily, but
necessarily towards the overcharging of the horse; so all objects and
causes have a natural efficiency, whereby they do physically determine
the will; which is a great mistake. His objects, his agents, his
motives, his passions, and all his concurrent causes, ordinarily do only
move the will morally, not determine it naturally. So as it hath in all
ordinary actions a free dominion over itself.

“His other example, of a man that strikes, ‘whose will to strike
followeth necessarily that thought he had of the sequel of his stroke,
immediately before the lifting up of his hand’: as it confounds
passionate, indeliberate thoughts, with the dictates of right reason, so
it is very uncertain; for between the cup and the lip, between the
lifting up of the hand and the blow, the will may alter, and the
judgment also. And lastly, it is impertinent; for that necessity of
striking proceeds from the free determination of the agent, and not from
the special influence of any outward determining causes. And so it is
only a necessity upon supposition.

“Concerning Medea’s choice, the strength of the argument doth not lie
either in the fact of Medea, which is but a fiction, or in the authority
of the poet, who writes things rather to be admired than believed, but
in the experience of all men: who find it to be true in themselves, that
sometimes reason doth shew unto a man the exorbitancy of his passion,
that what he desires is but a pleasant good, that what he loseth by such
a choice is an honest good, that that which is honest is to be preferred
before that which is pleasant; yet the will pursues that which is
pleasant, and neglects that which is honest. St. Paul (Rom. vii. 15)
saith as much in earnest, as is feigned of Medea: that _he approved not
that which he did_, and that _he did that which he hated_. The Roman
story is mistaken: there was no bribe in the case but affection. Whereas
I urge, that those things which are nearer to the senses do move more
powerfully, he lays hold on it; and without answering to that for which
I produced it, infers, ‘that the sense of present good, is more
immediate to the action than the foresight of evil consequents’: which
is true; but it is not absolutely true by any antecedent necessity. Let
a man do what he may do, and what he ought to do, and sensitive objects
will lose that power which they have by his own fault and neglect.
Antecedent or indeliberate concupiscence doth sometimes, but rarely,
surprise a man, and render the action not free. But consequent and
deliberated concupiscence, which proceeds from the rational will, doth
render the action more free, not less free, and introduceth only a
necessity upon supposition.

“Lastly, he saith, that ‘a man’s mourning more for the loss of his child
than for his sin, makes nothing to the last dictates of the
understanding’. Yes, very much. Reason dictates that a sin committed is
a greater evil than the loss of a child, and ought more to be lamented
for: yet we see daily how affection prevails against the dictate of
reason. That which he infers from hence, that ‘sorrow for sin is not
voluntary, and by consequence that repentance proceedeth from causes’;
is true as to the latter part of it, but not in his sense. The causes
from whence repentance doth proceed, are God’s grace preventing, and
man’s will concurring. God prevents freely, man concurs freely. Those
inferior agents, which sometimes do concur as subordinate to the grace
of God, do not, cannot, determine the will naturally. And therefore the
former part of his inference, that sorrow for sin is not voluntary, is
untrue, and altogether groundless. That is much more truly and much more
properly said to be voluntary, which proceeds from judgment and from the
rational will, than that which proceeds from passion and from the
sensitive will. One of the main grounds of all T. H.’s errors in this
question is, that he acknowledgeth no efficacy but that which is
natural. Hence is this wild consequence; ‘repentance hath causes’, and
therefore ‘it is not voluntary’. Free effects have free causes,
necessary effects necessary causes: voluntary effects have sometimes
free, sometimes necessary causes.”

           ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XXIII.

(_a_) “Supposing the last dictate of the understanding did always
determine the will, yet this determination, being not antecedent in
time, nor proceeding from extrinsical causes, but from the proper
resolution of the agent, who had now freely determined himself, makes no
absolute necessity, but only hypothetical, &c.” This is the Bishop’s
answer to the necessity inferred from that, that the will necessarily
followeth the last dictate of the understanding; which answer he thinks
is not sufficiently taken away, because the last act of the
understanding is in time together with the will itself, and therefore
not antecedent. It is true, that the will is not produced but in the
same instant with the last dictate of the understanding; but the
necessity of the will, and the necessity of the last dictate of the
understanding, may have been antecedent. For that last dictate of the
understanding was produced by causes antecedent, and was then necessary
though not yet produced; as when a stone is falling, the necessity of
touching the earth is antecedent to the touch itself. For all motion
through any determined space, necessarily makes a motion through the
next space, unless it be hindered by some contrary external motion; and
then the stop is as necessary, as the proceeding would have been. The
argument therefore from the last dictate of the understanding,
sufficiently inferreth an antecedent necessity, as great as the
necessity that a stone shall fall when it is already falling. As for his
other answer, that “the will does not certainly follow the last dictate
of the understanding, though it always ought to follow it”, he himself
says it is but probable; but any man that speaks not by rote, but thinks
of what he says, will presently find it false; and that it is impossible
to will anything that appears not first in his understanding to be good
for him. And whereas he says the will ought to follow the last dictate
of the understanding, unless he mean that the man ought to follow it, it
is an insignificant speech; for duties are the man’s not the will’s
duties: and if he means so, then it is false; for a man ought not to
follow the dictate of the understanding, when it is erroneous.

(_b_) “Of which I gave then three reasons. One was, that actions may be
so equally circumstantiated, that reason cannot give a positive
sentence, but leaves the election to liberty or chance. To this he
answers not a word.” There was no need of answer: for he hath very often
in this discourse contradicted it himself, in that he maketh “reason to
be the true root of liberty, and men to have more or less liberty, as
they have more or less reason”. How then can a man leave that to
liberty, when his reason can give no sentence? And for his leaving it to
chance; if by chance he mean that which hath no causes, he destroyeth
Providence; and if he mean that which hath causes, but unknown to us, he
leaveth it to necessity. Besides, it is false that “actions may be so
equally circumstantiated, that reason cannot give a positive sentence”.
For though in the things to be elected there may be an exact equality:
yet there may be circumstances in him that is to elect, to make him
resolve upon that of the two which he considereth for the present; and
to break off all further deliberation for this cause, that he must not
(to use his own instance) by spending time in vain, apply neither of the
plaisters, which the chirurgeon gives him, to his wound. “Another of his
reasons was, because reason doth not weigh every individual action to
the uttermost grain.” True; but does it therefore follow, a man gives no
sentence? The will therefore may follow the dictate of the judgment,
whether the man weigh or not weigh all that might be weighed. “His third
reason was, because passions and affections sometimes prevail against
judgment.” I confess they prevail often against _wisdom_, which is it he
means here by _judgment_. But they prevail not against the _dictate of
the understanding_, which he knows is the meaning of _judgment_ in this
place. And the will of a passionate and peevish fool doth no less follow
the dictate of that little understanding he hath, than the will of the
wisest man followeth his wisdom.

(_c_) “He explaineth the sense of the assertion by the comparison of the
last feather: wherewith he seems to be delighted, seeing he useth it now
the second time. But let him like it as he will, it is improper, for
three reasons.” To me this comparison seemeth very proper; and therefore
I made no scruple (though not much delighted with it, as being no new
comparison) to use it again, when there was need again. For in the
examination of truth, I search rather for perspicuity than elegance. But
the Bishop with his School-terms is far from perspicuity. How near he is
to elegance, I shall not forget to examine in due time. But why is this
comparison improper? “First, because the determination of the judgment
is no part of the weight: for the understanding weigheth all things,
objects, means, circumstances, convenience, inconvenience; but itself is
not weighed.” In this comparison, the objects, means, &c, are the
weights, the man is the scale, the understanding of a convenience or
inconvenience is the pressure of those weights, which incline him now
one way, now another; and that inclination is the will. Again, the
objects, means, &c, are the feathers that press the horse, the feeling
of that pressure is understanding, and his patience or impatience the
will to bear them, if not too many, or if too many, to lie down under
them. It is therefore to little purpose that he saith, the understanding
is not weighed. “Secondly”, he says the comparison is improper, “because
ordinarily, the means, circumstances, and causes concurrent, have their
whole weight from the understanding; so as they do not press the horse’s
back at all, until reason lay them on.” This, and that which followeth,
“that my objects, agents, motives, passions, and all my concurrent
causes, ordinarily do only move the will _morally_, not determine it
naturally, so as it hath in all ordinary actions a free dominion over
itself,” is all nonsense. For no man can understand, that the
understanding maketh any alteration in the object in _weight_ or
_lightness_; nor that _reason lays on objects upon the understanding_;
nor that the will _is moved_, nor that any motion _is moral_; nor that
these words, _the will hath a free dominion over itself_, signify
anything. With the rest of this reply I shall trust the reader; and only
note the last words, where he makes me say, _repentance hath causes_,
and therefore _it is not voluntary_. But I said, repentance hath causes,
_and that_ it is not voluntary; he chops in, _and therefore_, and makes
an absurd consequence, which he would have the reader believe was mine,
and then confutes it with these senseless words: “Free effects have free
causes, necessary effects necessary causes; voluntary effects have
sometimes free, sometimes necessary causes”. Can any man but a Schoolman
think the will is voluntary? But yet the will is the cause of voluntary
actions.

                               NO. XXIV.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Fifthly and lastly, the divine labours to find out a way how
liberty may consist with the prescience and decrees of God. But of this
I had not very long since occasion to write a full discourse, in answer
to a treatise against the prescience of things contingent. I shall for
the present only repeat these two things. First, we ought not to desert
a certain truth, because we are not able to comprehend the certain
manner. God should be but a poor God, if we were able perfectly to
comprehend all his actions and attributes. Secondly, in my poor
judgment, which I ever do and ever shall submit to better, the readiest
way to reconcile contingence and liberty with the decrees and prescience
of God, and most remote from the altercations of these times, is to
subject future contingents to the aspect of God, according to that
presentiality which they have in eternity. Not that things future, which
are not yet existent, are co-existent with God: but because the infinite
knowledge of God, incircling all times in the point of eternity, doth
attain to their future being, from whence proceeds their objective and
intelligible being. The main impediment which keeps men from subscribing
to this way, is because they conceive eternity to be an everlasting
succession, and not one indivisible point. But if they consider, that
whatsoever is in God is God; that there are no accidents in him, (for
that which is infinitely perfect cannot be further perfected); that as
God is not wise, but wisdom itself, not just, but justice itself, so he
is not eternal, but eternity itself: they must needs conclude, that
therefore this eternity is indivisible, because God is indivisible; and
therefore not successive, but altogether an infinite point,
comprehending all times within itself.”

_T. H._ The last part of this discourse containeth his opinion about
reconciling liberty with the prescience and decrees of God, otherwise
than some divines have done; against whom he had formerly written a
treatise, out of which he only repeateth two things. One is, that “we
ought not to desert a certain truth, for not being able to comprehend
the certain manner of it”. And I say the same; as for example, that he
ought not to desert this certain truth: that there are certain and
necessary causes, which make every man to will what he willeth, though
he do not yet conceive in what manner the will of man is caused. And yet
I think the manner of it is not very hard to conceive: seeing that we
see daily, that praise, dispraise, reward, punishment, good and evil
sequels of men’s actions retained in memory, do frame and make us to the
election of whatsoever it be that we elect; and that the memory of such
things proceeds from the senses, and sense from the operation of the
objects of sense, which are external to us, and governed only by God
Almighty; and by consequence, all actions, even of free and voluntary
agents, are necessary.

The other thing he repeateth is, that “the best way to reconcile
contingency and liberty with the prescience and decrees of God, is to
subject future contingents to the aspect of God”. The same is also my
opinion, but contrary to what he hath all this while laboured to prove.
For hitherto he held liberty and necessity, that is to say, liberty and
the decrees of God, irreconcilable; unless the aspect of God (which word
appeareth now the first time in this discourse) signify somewhat else
besides God’s will and decree, which I cannot understand. But he adds,
that we must subject them “according to that presentiality which they
have in eternity”; which he says cannot be done by them that conceive
eternity to be an everlasting succession, but only by them that conceive
it an indivisible point. To this I answer, that as soon as I can
conceive eternity to be an indivisible point, or any thing but an
everlasting succession, I will renounce all I have written on this
subject. I know St. Thomas Aquinas calls eternity _nunc stans_, an _ever
abiding now_; which is easy enough to say, but though I fain would, I
never could conceive it; they that can, are more happy than I. But in
the mean time he alloweth hereby all men to be of my opinion, save only
those that conceive in their minds a _nunc stans_; which I think are
none. I understand as little, how it can be true that “God is not just,
but justice itself, not wise but wisdom itself, not eternal but eternity
itself”: nor how he concludes thence that “eternity is a point
indivisible, and not a succession”: nor in what sense it can be said,
that an “infinite point,” &c, wherein is no succession, can “comprehend
all times,” though time be successive.

These phrases I find not in the Scripture. I wonder therefore what was
the design of the Schoolmen to bring them up; unless they thought a man
could not be a true Christian, unless his understanding be first
strangled with such hard sayings.

And thus much in answer to his discourse; wherein I think not only his
squadrons, but also his reserves of distinctions are defeated. And now
your Lordship shall have my doctrine concerning the same question, with
my reasons for it, positively and briefly as I can, without any terms of
art, in plain English.

_J. D._ (_a_) “That poor discourse which I mention, was not written
against any divines, but in way of examination of a French treatise,
which your Lordship’s brother did me the honour to show me at York.
(_b_) My assertion is most true, that we ought not to desert a certain
truth because we are not able to comprehend the certain manner. Such a
truth is that which I maintain, that the will of man in ordinary actions
is free from extrinsical determination: a truth demonstrable in reason,
received and believed by all the world. And therefore, though I be not
able to comprehend or express exactly the certain manner how it consists
together with God’s eternal prescience and decrees, which exceed my weak
capacity, yet I ought to adhere to that truth which is manifest. But T.
H.’s opinion, of the absolute necessity of all events by reason of their
antecedent determination in their extrinsical and necessary causes, is
no such certain truth, but an innovation, a strange paradox, without
probable grounds, rejected by all authors, yea, by all the world.
Neither is the manner how the second causes do operate, so obscure, or
so transcendent above the reach of reason, as the eternal decrees of God
are. And therefore in both these respects, he cannot challenge the same
privilege. I am in possession of an old truth, derived by inheritance or
succession from mine ancestors. And therefore, though I were not able to
clear every quirk in law, yet I might justly hold my possession until a
better title were showed for another. He is no old possessor, but a new
pretender, and is bound to make good his claim by evident proofs: not by
weak and inconsequent suppositions or inducements, such as those are
which he useth here, of ‘praises, dispraises, rewards, punishments, the
memory of good and evil sequels and events’; which may incline the will,
but neither can nor do necessitate the will: nor by uncertain and
accidental inferences, such as this; ‘the memory of praises, dispraises,
rewards, punishments, good and evil sequels, do make us’ (he should say,
_dispose_ us) ‘to elect what we elect; but the memory of these things is
from the sense, and the sense from the operation of the external
objects, and the agency of external objects is only from God; therefore
all actions, even of free and voluntary agents, are necessary’. (_c_) To
pass by all the other great imperfections which are to be found in this
sorite, it is just like that old sophistical piece: He that drinks well
sleeps well, he that sleeps well thinks no hurt, he that thinks no hurt
lives well; therefore he that drinks well lives well.

(_d_) “In the very last passage of my discourse I proposed mine own
private opinion, how it might be made appear, that the eternal
prescience and decrees of God are consistent with true liberty and
contingency. And this I set down in as plain terms as I could, or as so
profound a speculation would permit: which is almost wholly
misunderstood by T. H., and many of my words wrested to a wrong sense.
As first, where I speak of the aspect of God, that is, his view, his
knowledge, by which the most free and contingent actions were manifest
to him from eternity, (Heb. iv. 13, _all things are naked and open to
his eyes_), and this not discursively, but intuitively, not by external
species, but by his internal essence; he confounds this with the will
and the decrees of God; though he found not the word _aspect_ before in
this discourse, he might have found prescience. (_e_) Secondly, he
chargeth me, that hitherto I have maintained that ‘liberty and the
decrees of God are irreconcilable.’ If I have said any such thing, my
heart never went along with my pen. No, but his reason why he chargeth
me on this manner is, because I have maintained that ‘liberty and the
absolute necessity of all things’ are irreconcilable. That is true
indeed. What then? ‘Why,’ saith he, ‘necessity and God’s decrees are all
one.’ How all one? That were strange indeed. Necessity may be a
consequent of God’s decrees; it cannot be the decree itself. (_f_) But
to cut his argument short: God hath decreed all effects which come to
pass in time; yet not all after the same manner, but according to the
distinct natures, capacities, and conditions of his creatures, which he
doth not destroy by his decree; some he acteth, with some he
co-operateth by special influence, and some he only permitteth. Yet this
is no idle or bare permission; seeing he doth concur both by way of
general influence, giving power to act; and also by disposing all events
necessary, free, and contingent to his own glory. (_g_) Thirdly, he
chargeth me, that I ‘allow all men to be of his opinion, save only those
that conceive in their minds a _nunc stans_, or how eternity is an
indivisible point, rather than an everlasting succession’. But I have
given no such allowance. I know there are many other ways proposed by
divines, for reconciling the eternal prescience and decrees of God with
the liberty and contingency of second causes; some of which may please
other judgments better than this of mine. Howsoever, though a man could
comprehend none of all these ways, yet remember what I said, that a
certain truth ought not to be rejected, because we are not able, in
respect of our weakness, to understand the certain manner or reason of
it. I know the loadstone hath an attractive power to draw the iron to
it; and yet I know not how it comes to have such a power.

“But the chiefest difficulty which offers itself in this section is,
whether eternity be an indivisible point, as I maintain it; or an
everlasting succession, as he would have it. According to his constant
use, he gives no answer to what was urged by me, but pleads against it
from his own incapacity. ‘I never could conceive,’ saith he, ‘how
eternity should be an indivisible point.’ I believe, that neither we nor
any man else can comprehend it so clearly as we do these inferior
things. The nearer that anything comes to the essence of God, the more
remote it is from our apprehension. But shall we therefore make
potentialities, and successive duration, and former and later, or a part
without a part, as they say, to be in God? Because we are not able to
understand clearly the divine perfection, we must not therefore
attribute any imperfection to him.

(_h_) “He saith moreover, that ‘he understands as little how it can be
true which I say, that God is not just but justice itself, not eternal
but eternity itself.’ It seems, howsoever he be versed in this question,
that he hath not troubled his head overmuch with reading School-divines
or metaphysicians, if he make faculties or qualities to be in God really
distinct from his essence. God is a most simple or pure act, which can
admit no composition of substance and accidents. Doth he think, that the
most perfect essence of God cannot act sufficiently without faculties
and qualities? The infinite perfection of the Divine essence excludes
all passive or receptive powers, and cannot be perfected more than it is
by any accidents. The attributes of God are not divers virtues or
qualities in him, as they are in the creatures; but really one and the
same with the Divine essence, and among themselves. They are attributed
to God to supply the defect of our capacity, who are not able to
understand that which is to be known of God under one name, or one act
of the understanding.

“Furthermore he saith, that ‘he understands not how I conclude from
hence, that eternity is an indivisable point, and not a succession’.
(_i_) I will help him. The Divine substance is indivisible; but eternity
is the Divine substance. The major is evident, because God is _actus
simplicissimus_, a most simple act; wherein there is no manner of
composition, neither of matter and form, nor of subject and accidents,
nor of parts, &c; and by consequence no divisibility. The minor hath
been clearly demonstrated in mine answer to his last doubt, and is
confessed by all men that whatsoever is in God, is God.

“Lastly, he saith, he conceives not ‘how it can be said, that an
infinite point, wherein is no succession, can comprehend all time which
is successive’. I answer, that it doth not comprehend it formally, as
time is successive; but eminently and virtually, as eternity is
infinite. To-day all eternity is co-existent with this day: to-morrow
all eternity will be co-existent with to-morrow: and so in like manner
with all the parts of time, being itself without parts. He saith, ‘he
finds not these phrases in the Scripture’. No, but he may find the thing
in the Scripture, that God is infinite in all his attributes, and not
capable of any imperfection.

“And so to show his antipathy against the Schoolmen, that he hath no
liberty or power to contain himself when he meets with any of their
phrases or tenets, he falls into another paroxism or fit of inveighing
against them; and so concludes his answer with a _plaudite_ to himself,
because he had defeated both my squadrons of arguments and reserves of
distinctions

                 Dicite Io pæan, et Io bis dicite pæan.

“But because his eyesight was weak, and their backs were towards him, he
quite mistook the matter. Those whom he saw routed and running away,
were his own scattered forces.”

           ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY, NO. XXIV.

(_a_) “That poor discourse which I mention, was not written against any
divines, but in way of examination of a French treatise, &c”. This is in
reply to those words of mine, “this discourse containeth his opinion
about reconciling liberty with the prescience and decrees of God,
otherwise than some divines have done, against whom he had formerly
written a treatise”. If the French treatise were according to his mind,
what need was there that the examination should be written? If it were
not to his mind, it was in confutation of him, that is to say, written
against the author of it: unless perhaps the Bishop thinks that he
writes not against a man, unless he charge him with blasphemy and
atheism, as he does me.

(_b_) “My assertion is most true, that we ought not to desert a certain
truth, because we are not able to comprehend the certain manner.” To
this I answered, that it was true; and as he alleged it for a reason why
he should not be of my opinion, so I alleged it for a reason why I
should not be of his. But now in his reply he saith, that his opinion is
“a truth demonstrable in reason, received and believed by all the world.
And therefore, though he be not able to comprehend or express exactly
the certain manner how this liberty of will consists with God’s eternal
prescience and decrees, yet he ought to adhere to that truth which is
manifest.” But why should he adhere to it, unless it be manifest to
himself? And if it be manifest to himself, why does he deny that he is
able to comprehend it? And if he be not able to comprehend it, how knows
he that it is demonstrable? Or why says he that so confidently, which he
does not know? Methinks that which I have said, namely, that “that which
God foreknows shall be hereafter, cannot but be hereafter, and at the
same time that he foreknew it should be; but that which cannot but be,
is necessary; therefore what God foreknows, shall be necessarily, and at
the time foreknown”: this I say looketh somewhat liker to a
demonstration, than any thing that he hath hitherto brought to prove
free will. Another reason why I should be of his opinion, is that he is
“in possession of an old truth derived to him by inheritance or
succession from his ancestors”. To which I answer, first, that I am in
possession of a truth derived to me from the light of reason. Secondly,
that whereas he knoweth not whether it be the truth that he possesseth,
or not; because he confesseth he knows not how it can consist with God’s
prescience and decrees; I have sufficiently shewn that my opinion of
necessity not only agrees with, but necessarily followeth from the
eternal prescience and decrees of God. Besides, it is an unhandsome
thing for a man to derive his opinion concerning truth by succession
from his ancestors; for our ancestors, the first Christians, derived not
therefore their truth from the Gentiles, because they were their
ancestors.

(_c_) “To pass by all the other great imperfections which are to be
found in this sorite, it is just like an old philosophical piece: he
that drinks well, sleeps well; he that sleeps well, thinks no hurt; he
that thinks no hurt, lives well; therefore he that drinks well, lives
well.” My argument was thus: “election is always from the memory of good
and evil sequels; memory is always from the sense; and sense always from
the action of external bodies; and all action from God; therefore all
actions, even of free and voluntary agents, are from God, and
consequently necessary”. Let the Bishop compare now his scurrilous
argumentation with this of mine; and tell me, whether he that sleeps
well, doth all his lifetime think no hurt.

(_d_) “In the very last passage of my discourse I proposed my own
private opinion, how it might be made appear that the eternal prescience
and decrees of God are consistent with true liberty and contingency,
&c.” If he had meant by liberty, as other men do, the liberty of action,
that is, of things which are in his power to do which he will, it had
been an easy matter to reconcile it with the prescience and decrees of
God; but meaning the liberty of will, it was impossible. So likewise, if
by contingency he had meant simply coming to pass, it had been
reconcilable with the decrees of God; but meaning coming to pass without
necessity, it was impossible. And therefore though it be true he says,
that “he set it down in as plain terms as he could”, yet it was
impossible to set it down in plain terms. Nor ought he to charge me with
misunderstanding him, and wresting his words to a wrong sense. For the
truth is, I did not understand them at all, nor thought he understood
them himself; but was willing to give them the best interpretation they
would bear; which he calls wresting them to a wrong sense. And first, I
understood not what he meant by the aspect of God. For if he had meant
his foreknowledge, which word he had often used before; what needed he
in this one place only to call it _aspect_? Or what need he here call it
his _view_? Or say that all things are open to the eyes of God not
_discursively_, but _intuitively_; which is to expound _eyes_ in that
text, Hebr. iv. 13, not figuratively but literally, nevertheless
excluding _external species_, which the Schoolmen say are the cause of
seeing? But it was well done to exclude such insignificant speeches,
upon every occasion whatsoever. And though I do not hold the
foreknowledge of God to consist in _discourse_; yet I shall be never
driven to say it is by _intuition_, as long as I know that even a man
hath foreknowledge of all those things which he intendeth himself to do,
not by discourse, but by knowing his own purpose; saving that man hath a
superior power over him, that can change his purpose; which God hath
not. And whereas he says, I confound this aspect with the will and
decrees of God, he accuseth me wrongfully. For how could I so confound
it, when I understood not what it meant?

(_e_) “Secondly, he chargeth me, that hitherto I have maintained that
‘liberty and the decrees of God are irreconcileable’”. And the reason
why I do so is, because he maintained that liberty and the absolute
necessity of all things are irreconcileable. If liberty cannot stand
with necessity, it cannot stand with the decrees of God, of which
decrees necessity is a consequent. I needed not to say, nor did say,
that necessity and God’s decrees are all one: though if I had said it,
it had not been without authority of learned men, in whose writings are
often found this sentence, _voluntas Dei, necessitas rerum_.

(_f_) “But to cut his argument short: God hath decreed all effects which
come to pass in time, yet not all after the same manner, but according
to the distinct natures, capacities, and conditions of his creatures;
which he doth not destroy by his decree: some he acteth.” Hitherto true.
Then he addeth: “with some he co-operateth by special influence; and
some he only permitteth; yet this is no idle or bare permission”. This
is false. For nothing operateth by its own original power, but God
himself. Man operateth not but by special power, (I say special power,
not special influence), derived from God. Nor is it by God’s permission
only, as I have often already shown, and as the Bishop here
contradicting his former words confesseth. For _to permit only_, and
_barely to permit_, signify the same thing. And that which he says, that
God _concurs by way of general influence_, is jargon. For every
concurrence is one singular and individual concurrence; and nothing in
the world is general, but the signification of words and other signs.

(_g_) “Thirdly, he chargeth me, that ‘I allow all men to be of his
opinion, save only those that conceive in their minds a _nunc stans_, or
how eternity is an indivisible point, rather than an everlasting
succession.’ But I have given no such allowance.” Surely if the reason
wherefore my opinion is false, proceed from this, that I conceive not
eternity to be _nunc stans_, but an everlasting succession, I am allowed
to hold my opinion till I can conceive eternity otherwise: at least he
allows men not till then to be of his opinion. For he hath said, “that
the main impediment which keeps men from subscribing to that way of his,
is because they conceive eternity to be an everlasting succession, and
not one indivisible point”. As for the many other ways which he says are
“proposed by divines for reconciling the eternal prescience and decrees
of God with the liberty and contingency of second causes”, if they mean
such liberty and contingency as the Bishop meaneth, they are proposed in
vain; for truth and error can never be reconciled. But “however,” saith
he, “though a man could comprehend none of all these ways, yet we must
remember that a certain truth ought not to be rejected, because we are
not able to understand the reason of it.” For “he knows,” he says, “the
loadstone hath an attractive power to draw the iron to it, and yet he
knoweth not how it cometh to have such a power.” I know the load-stone
hath no such attractive power; and yet I know that the iron cometh to
it, or it to the iron; and therefore wonder not, that the Bishop knoweth
not how it cometh to have that power. In the next place he saith, I
bring nothing to prove that eternity is not an indivisible point, but my
own incapacity “that I cannot conceive it”. The truth is, I cannot
dispute neither for nor against (as he can do) the positions I
understand not. Nor do I understand what derogation it can be to the
divine perfection, to attribute to it potentiality, that is (in English)
power, and successive duration; for such attributes are often given to
it in the Scripture.

(_h_) “He saith moreover, that ‘he understands as little how it can be
true which I say, that God is not just, but justice itself, nor eternal,
but eternity itself’. It seems, howsoever he be versed in this question,
that he hath not troubled his head over-much with reading
School-divines, or metaphysicians.” They are unseemly words to be said
of God: I will not say, blasphemous and atheistical, which are the
attributes he gives to my opinions, because I do not think them spoken
out of an evil mind, but out of error: they are, I say, unseemly words
to be said of God, that he is not just, that he is not eternal, and (as
he also said) that he is not wise; and cannot be excused by any
following _but_, especially when the _but_ is followed by that which is
not to be understood. Can any man understand how justice is just, or
wisdom wise? and whereas justice is an accident, one of the moral
virtues, and wisdom another; how God is an accident or moral virtue? It
is more than the Schoolmen or metaphysicians can understand; whose
writings have troubled my head more than they should have done, if I had
known that amongst so many senseless disputes, there had been so few
lucid intervals. But I have considered since, where men will undertake
to reason out of natural philosophy of the incomprehensible nature of
God, that it is impossible they should speak intelligibly, or in other
language than metaphysic, wherein they may contradict themselves, and
not perceive it; as he does here, when he says, “the attributes of God
are not diverse virtues or qualities in him, as they are in the
creatures, but really one and the same with the divine essence and
amongst themselves, and attributed to God to supply the defect of our
capacity”. Attributes are names; and therefore it is a contradiction, to
say they are really one and the same with the divine essence. But if he
mean the virtues signified by the attributes, as justice, wisdom,
eternity, divinity, &c; so also they are virtues, and not one virtue,
(which is still a contradiction); and we give those attributes to God,
not to shew that we apprehend how they are in him, but to signify how we
think it best to honour him.

(_i_) “‘In the next place he will help me to understand,’ he says, ‘how
eternity is an indivisible point.’ The divine substance is indivisible;
but eternity is the divine substance. The major is evident, because God
is _actus simplicissimus_; the minor hath been clearly demonstrated in
my answer to his last doubt, and is confessed by all men, that
whatsoever is attributed to God is God.” The major is so far from being
evident, that _actus simplicissimus_ signifieth nothing. The minor is
said by some men, thought by no man; for whatsoever is thought, is
understood. And all that he hath elsewhere and here dilated upon it, is
as perfect nonsense, as any man ever writ on purpose to make merry with.
And so is that whereby he answers to my objection, that a point cannot
comprehend all time, which is successive; namely, his distinction, that
“a point doth not comprehend all time _formally_, as time is successive;
but _eminently_ and _virtually_, as eternity is infinite”. And this,
“to-day all eternity is co-existent with this day, and to-morrow all
eternity will be co-existent with to-morrow”. It is well that his
eternity is now come from a _nunc stans_ to be a _nunc fluens_, flowing
from this day to the next, and so on. This kind of language is never
found in the Scripture. No, but the thing, saith he, is found there,
namely, that God is infinite in all his attributes. I would he could
shew me the place where God is said to be infinite in all his
attributes. There be places enough to shew that God is infinite in
power, in wisdom, mercy, &c: but neither is he said to be infinite in
names (which is the English of attributes), nor that he is an
indivisible point, nor that a point doth comprehend time eminently and
virtually; nor that to-day all eternity is co-existent with to-day, &c.
And thus much in answer to his reply upon my answer. That which
remaineth, is my reply upon his answer to my positive doctrine on this
subject.

            MY OPINION ABOUT LIBERTY AND NECESSITY NO. XXV.

_T. H._ First, I conceive that when it cometh into a man’s mind to do or
not to do some certain action, if he have no time to deliberate, the
doing or abstaining necessarily followeth the present thought he had of
the good or evil consequence thereof to himself. As for example, in
sudden anger the action shall follow the thought of revenge, in sudden
fear the thought of escape. Also when a man hath time to deliberate, but
deliberates not, because never anything appeared that could make him
doubt of the consequence, the action follows his opinion of the goodness
or harm of it. These actions I call voluntary. He, if I understand him
aright, calls them spontaneous. I call them voluntary, because those
actions that follow immediately the last appetite, are voluntary. And
here, where there is one only appetite, that one is the last.

Besides, I see it is reasonable to punish a rash action; which could not
be justly done by man, unless the same were voluntary. For no action of
a man can be said to be without deliberation, though never so sudden;
because it is supposed he had time to deliberate all the precedent time
of his life, whether he should do that kind of action or not. And hence
it is, that he that killeth in a sudden passion of anger, shall
nevertheless be justly put to death: because all the time wherein he was
able to consider whether to kill were good or evil, shall be held for
one continual deliberation; and consequently the killing shall be judged
to proceed from election.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

J. D. “This part of T. H.’s discourse hangs together like a sick man’s
dreams. (_a_) Even now he tells us, that ‘a man may have time to
deliberate, yet not deliberate’. By and by he saith, that ‘no action of
a man, though never so sudden, can be said to be without deliberation’.
He tells us, No. XXXIII., that ‘the scope of this section is to show
what is spontaneous’. Howbeit he showeth only what is voluntary; (_b_)
so making voluntary and spontaneous to be all one; whereas before he had
told us, that ‘every spontaneous action is not voluntary, because
indeliberate; nor every voluntary action spontaneous, if it proceed from
fear.’ (_c_) Now he tells us, that ‘those actions which follow the last
appetite, are voluntary; and where there is one only appetite, that is
the last’. But before he told us, that ‘voluntary presupposeth some
precedent deliberation and meditation of what is likely to follow, both
upon the doing and abstaining from the action’. (_d_) He defines
liberty, No. XXIX., to be ‘the absence of all extrinsical impediments to
action’. And yet in his whole discourse he laboureth to make good, that
whatsoever is not done, is therefore not done, because the agent was
necessitated by extrinsical causes not to do it. Are not extrinsical
causes, which determine him not to do it, extrinsical impediments to
action? So no man shall be free to do any thing but that which he doth
actually. He defines a free agent to be ‘him who hath not made an end of
deliberating’ (No. XXVIII.). And yet defines liberty to be ‘an absence
of outward impediments’. There may be outward impediments, even whilst
he is deliberating. As a man deliberates whether he shall play at
tennis: and at the same time the door of the tennis-court is fast locked
against him. And after a man hath ceased to deliberate, there may be no
outward impediments: as when a man resolves not to play at tennis,
because he finds himself ill-disposed, or because he will not hazard his
money. So the same person, at the same time, should be free and not
free, not free and free. And as he is not firm to his own grounds, so he
confounds all things, the mind and the will, the estimative faculty and
the understanding, imagination with deliberation, the end with the
means, human will with the sensitive appetite, rational hope or fear
with irrational passions, inclinations with intentions, a beginning of
being with a beginning of working, sufficiency with efficiency. So as
the greatest difficulty is to find out what he aims at. So as I had once
resolved not to answer this part of his discourse; yet upon better
advice I will take a brief survey of it also; and show how far I assent
unto, or dissent from that which I conceive to be his meaning.

“And first, concerning sudden passions, as anger or the like. (_e_) That
which he saith, that ‘the action doth necessarily follow the thought’,
is thus far true; that those actions which are altogether undeliberated
and do proceed from sudden and violent passions, or _motus primo primi_,
which surprise a man, and give him no time to advise with reason, are
not properly and actually in themselves free, but rather necessary
actions; as when a man runs away from a cat or a custard out of a secret
antipathy.

(_f_) “Secondly, as for those actions ‘wherein actual deliberation seems
not necessary, because never anything appeared that could make a man
doubt of the consequence’: I do confess, that actions done by virtue of
a precedent deliberation, without any actual deliberation in the
present, when the act is done, may notwithstanding be truly both
voluntary and free acts, yea, in some cases and in some sense, more free
than if they were actually deliberated of in present. As one who hath
acquired by former deliberation and experience a habit to play upon the
virginals, needs not deliberate what man or what jack he must touch, nor
what finger of his hand he must move to play such a lesson; yea, if his
mind should be fixed, or intent to every motion of his hand, or every
touch of a string, it would hinder his play, and render the action more
troublesome to him. Wherefore I believe, that not only his playing in
general, but every motion of his hand, though it be not presently
deliberated of, is a free act, by reason of his precedent deliberation.
So then (saving improprieties of speech, as calling that voluntary which
is free, and limiting the will to the last appetite; and other mistakes,
as that no act can be said to be without deliberation) we agree also for
the greater part in this second observation.

(_g_) “Thirdly, whereas he saith, that ‘some sudden acts proceeding from
violent passions, which surprise a man, are justly punished’; I grant
they are so sometimes; but not for his reason, because they have been
formerly actually deliberated of; but because they were virtually
deliberated of, or because it is our fault that they were not actually
deliberated of, whether it was a fault of pure negation, that is, of not
doing our duty only, or a fault of bad disposition also, by reason of
some vicious habit which we had contracted by our former actions. To do
a necessary act is never a fault, nor justly punishable, when the
necessity is inevitably imposed upon us by extrinsical causes. As if a
child, before he had the use of reason, shall kill a man in his passion;
yet because he wanted malice to incite him to it, and reason to restrain
him from it, he shall not die for it in the strict rules of particular
justice, unless there be some mixture of public justice in the case.

(_h_) “But if the necessity be contracted by ourselves, and by our own
faults, it is justly punishable. As he who by his wanton thoughts in the
day-time doth procure his own nocturnal pollution: a man cannot
deliberate in his sleep, yet it is accounted a sinful act, and
consequently, a free act, that is, not actually free in itself, but
virtually free in its causes; and though it be not expressly willed and
chosen, yet it is tacitly and implicitly willed and chosen, when that is
willed and chosen from whence it was necessarily produced. By the
Levitical law, if a man digged a pit and left it uncovered, so that his
neighbour’s ox or his ass did fall into it, he was bound to make
reparation; not because he did choose to leave it uncovered on purpose
that such a mischance might happen, but because he did freely omit that
which he ought to have done, from whence this damage proceeded to his
neighbour. Lastly, there is great difference between the first motions,
which sometimes are not in our power, and subsequent acts of killing or
stealing, or the like, which always are in our power if we have the use
of reason, or else it is our own fault that they are not in our power.
Yet to such hasty acts done in hot blood the law is not so severe, as to
those which are done upon long deliberation and prepensed malice,
unless, as I said, there be some mixture of public justice in it. He
that steals a horse deliberately, may be more punishable by the law than
he that kills the owner by chance-medley: yet the death of the owner was
more noxious, (to use his phrase), and more damageable to the family,
than the stealth of the horse. So far was T. H. mistaken in that also,
that the right to kill men doth proceed merely from their being noxious
(No. XIV).”

 ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S ANSWER TO MY OPINION ABOUT LIBERTY AND
                            NECESSITY NO. XXV.

(_a_) “Even now he tells us, that ‘a man may have time to deliberate,
yet not deliberate’. By and by he saith, that ‘no action of a man,
though never so sudden, can be said to be without deliberation’.” He
thinks he hath here caught me in a contradiction; but he is mistaken;
and the cause is, that he observed not that there may be a difference
between deliberation and that which shall be construed for deliberation
by a judge. For a man may do a rash act suddenly without deliberation;
yet because he ought to have deliberated, and had time enough to
deliberate whether the action were lawful or not, it shall not be said
by the judge that it was without deliberation, who supposeth that after
the law known, all the time following was time of deliberation. It is
therefore no contradiction, to say a man deliberates not, and that he
shall be said to deliberate by him that is the judge of voluntary
actions.

(_b_) “Again, where he says, ‘he maketh voluntary and spontaneous
actions to be all one’, whereas before he had told us that ‘every
spontaneous action is not voluntary, because indeliberate; nor every
voluntary action spontaneous, if it proceed from fear’.” He thinks he
hath espied another contradiction. It is no wonder if speaking of
spontaneous, which signifieth nothing else in Latin (for English it is
not) but that which is done deliberately or indeliberately without
compulsion, I seem to the Bishop, who hath never given any definition of
that word, not to use it as he would have me. And it is easy for him to
give it any signification he please, as the occasion shall serve to
charge me with contradiction. In what sense I have used that word once,
in the same I have used it always, calling that spontaneous which is
without co-action or compulsion by terror.

(_c_) “Now he tells us, that ‘those actions which follow the last
appetite are voluntary, and where there is one only appetite, that is
the last’. But before he told us, that ‘voluntary presupposeth some
precedent deliberation and meditation of what is likely to follow, both
upon the doing and abstaining from the _action_’.” This is a third
contradiction he supposeth he hath found, but is again mistaken. For
when men are to judge of actions, whether they be voluntary or not, they
cannot call that action voluntary, which followed not the last appetite.
But the same men, though there were no deliberation, shall judge there
was, because it ought to have been, and that from the time that the law
was known to the time of the action itself. And therefore both are true,
that voluntary may be without, and yet presupposed in the law not to be
without deliberation.

(_d_) “He defines liberty (No. XXIX.) to be ‘the absence of all
extrinsical impediments to action’. And yet in his whole discourse he
laboureth to make good, that whatsoever is not done, is therefore not
done, because the agent was necessitated by extrinsical causes not to do
it. Are not extrinsical causes which determine him not to do it,
extrinsical impediments to action?” This definition of liberty, that it
is “the absence of all extrinsical impediments to action”, he thinks he
hath sufficiently confuted by asking whether the extrinsical causes,
which determine a man not to do an action, be not extrinsical
impediments to action. It seems by his question he makes no doubt but
they are; but is deceived by a too shallow consideration of what the
word _impediment_ signifieth. For impediment or hinderance signifieth an
opposition to endeavour. And therefore if a man be necessitated by
extrinsical causes not to endeavour an action, those causes do not
oppose his endeavour to do it, because he has no such endeavour to be
opposed; and consequently extrinsical causes that take away endeavour,
are not to be called impediments; nor can any man be said to be hindered
from doing that, which he had no purpose at all to do. So that this
objection of his proceedeth only from this, that he understandeth not
sufficiently the English tongue. From the same proceedeth also that he
thinketh it a contradiction, to call a free agent him that hath not yet
made an end of deliberating, and to call liberty an absence of outward
impediments. “For,” saith he, “there may be outward impediments, even
while he is deliberating.” Wherein he is deceived. For though he may
deliberate of that which is impossible for him to do; as in the example
he allegeth of him that deliberateth whether he shall play at tennis,
not knowing that the door of the tennis-court is shut against him; yet
it is no impediment to him that the door is shut, till he have a will to
play; which be hath not till he hath done deliberating whether he shall
play or not. That which followeth of my confounding mind and will; the
estimative faculty and the understanding; the imagination and
deliberation; the end and the means; the human will and the sensitive
appetite; rational hope or fear, and irrational passions; inclinations
and intentions; a beginning of being and a beginning of working;
sufficiency and efficiency: I do not find in anything that I have
written, any impropriety in the use of these or any other English words;
nor do I doubt but an English reader, who hath not lost himself in
School-divinity, will very easily conceive what I have said. But this I
am sure, that I never confounded beginning of being with beginning of
working, nor sufficiency with efficiency; nor ever used these words,
sensitive appetite, rational hope, or rational fear, or irrational
passions. It is therefore impossible I should confound them. But the
Bishop is either mistaken, or else he makes no scruple to say that which
he knows to be false, when he thinks it will serve his turn.

(_e_) “That which he saith, that ‘the action doth necessarily follow the
thought’, is thus far true; that those actions which are altogether
undeliberated, and do proceed from violent passions, &c, are not
properly, and actually in themselves free, but rather necessary actions,
as when a man runs away from a cat or a custard.” Thus far he says is
true. But when he calls sudden passions _motus primo primi_, I cannot
tell whether he says true or not, because I do not understand him; nor
find how he makes his meaning ever the clearer by his example of a cat
and a custard, because I know not what he means by a secret antipathy.
For what that antipathy is he explaineth not by calling it secret, but
rather confesseth he knows not how to explain it. And because he saith,
it is _thus far true_, I expect he should tell me also how far it is
false.

(_f_) “Secondly, as for those actions wherein actual deliberation seems
not necessary, ‘because never anything appeared that could make a man
doubt of the consequence’; I do confess that actions done by virtue of a
precedent deliberation, without any actual deliberation for the present,
may notwithstanding be truly voluntary and free acts.” In this he agrees
with me. But where he adds, “yea, in some cases, and in some sense more
free, than if they were actually deliberated of in present”, I do not
agree with him. And for the instance he bringeth to prove it, in the man
that playeth on an instrument with his hand it maketh nothing for him.
For it proveth only, that the habit maketh the motion of his hand more
ready and quick; but it proveth not that it maketh it more voluntary,
but rather less; because the rest of the motions follow the first by an
easiness acquired from long custom; in which motion the will doth not
accompany all the strokes of the hand, but gives a beginning to them
only in the first. Here is nothing, as I expected, of how far that which
I had said, namely, that the action doth necessarily follow the thought,
is false; unless it be “improprieties of speech, as calling that
voluntary which is free, and limiting the will to the last appetite; and
other mistakes, as that no act can be said to be without deliberation”.
For improprieties of speech, I will not contend with one that can use
_motus primo primi_, _practice practicum_, _actus elicitus_, and many
other phrases of the same kind. But to say that free actions are
voluntary; and that the will which causeth a voluntary action, is the
last appetite; and that that appetite was immediately followed by the
action; and that no action of a man can be said in the judgment of the
law, to be without deliberation: are no mistakes, for anything that he
hath proved to the contrary.

(_g_) “Thirdly, whereas he saith, that ‘some sudden acts, proceeding
from violent passions which surprise a man, are justly punished’; I
grant they are so sometimes, but not for his reason, &c.” My reason was,
“because he had time to deliberate from the instant that he knew the
law, to the instant of his action, and ought to have deliberated”, that
therefore he may be justly punished. The Bishop grants they are justly
punished, and his reason is, “because they were virtually deliberated
of”, or, “because it is our fault they were not actually deliberated
of”. How a man does deliberate, and yet not actually deliberate, I
understand not. If virtual deliberation be not actual deliberation, it
is no deliberation. But he calleth virtual deliberation, that which
ought to have been, and was not; and says the same that he condemns in
me. And his other reason, namely, because it is our fault that we
deliberated not, is the same that I said, that we ought to have
deliberated, and did not. So that his reprehension here, is a
reprehension of himself, proceeding from that the custom of
School-language hath made him forget the language of his country. And to
that which he adds, “that a necessary act is never a fault, nor justly
punishable, when the necessity is inevitably imposed upon us by
extrinsical causes”, I have sufficiently answered before in diverse
places; shewing that a fault may be necessary from extrinsical causes,
and yet voluntary; and that voluntary faults are justly punishable.

(_h_) “But if the necessity be contracted by ourselves, it is justly
punishable. As he who by his wanton thoughts in the day time, doth
procure his own nocturnal pollution.” This instance, because it maketh
not against anything I have held, and partly also because it is a
stinking passage, (for surely if, as he that ascribes eyes to the
understanding, allows me to say it hath a nose, it stinketh to the nose
of the understanding); this sentence I pass over, observing only the
canting terms, _not actually free in itself_, but _virtually free in its
causes_. In the rest of his answer to this No. XXV, I find nothing
alleged in confutation of anything I have said, saving that his last
words are, that “T. H. is mistaken in that also, that the right to kill
men doth proceed merely from their being noxious” (No. XIV.). But to
that I have in the same No. XIV. already answered. I must not pass over,
that a little before he hath these words: “If a child, before he have
the use of reason, shall kill a man in his passion, yet because he
wanted malice to incite him to it, and reason to restrain him from it,
he shall not die for it, in the strict rules of particular justice,
unless there be some mixture of public justice in the case”. The Bishop
would make but an ill judge of innocent children, for such are they
that, for want of age, have not use enough of reason to abstain from
killing. For the want of reason proceeding from want of age, does
therefore take away the punishment, because it taketh away the crime,
and makes them innocent. But he introduceth another justice, which he
calleth _public_; whereas he called the other _particular_. And by this
public justice, he saith, the child though innocent may be put to death.
I hope we shall never have the administration of public justice in such
hands as his, or in the hands of such as shall take counsel from him.
But the distinction he makes is not by himself understood. There are
public causes, and private causes. Private are those, where the parties
to the cause are both private men. Public are those, where one of the
parties is the commonwealth, or the person that representeth it, and the
cause criminal. But there is no distinction of justice into public and
private. We may read of men that, having sovereign power, did sometimes
put an innocent to death, either upon a vow; as Jepthah did in
sacrificing his daughter; or when it hath been thought fit that an
innocent person should be put to death to save a great number of people.
But to put to death a child, not for reason of state, which he
improperly calls public justice, but for killing a man, and at the same
time to acknowledge such killing to be no crime, I think was never heard
of.

                               NO. XXVI.

_T. H._ Secondly, I conceive when a man deliberates whether he shall do
a thing or not do a thing, that he does nothing else but consider
whether it be better for himself to do it or not to do it. And to
consider an action, is to imagine the consequences of it, both good and
evil. From whence is to be inferred, that deliberation is nothing but
alternate imagination of the good and evil sequels of an action, or
(which is the same thing) alternate hope and fear, or alternate appetite
to do or acquit the action of which he deliberateth.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ (_a_) “If I did not know what deliberation was, I should be
little relieved in my knowledge by this description. Sometimes he makes
it to be a consideration, or an act of the understanding; sometimes an
imagination, or an act of the fancy; sometimes he makes it to be an
alternation of passions, hope and fear. Sometimes he makes it concern
the end, sometimes to concern the means. So he makes it I know not what.
The truth is this in brief: ‘Deliberation is an inquiry made by reason,
whether this or that, definitely considered, be a good and fit means,
or, indefinitely, what are good and fit means to be chosen for attaining
some wished end.’”

              ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE ANSWER TO NO. XXVI.

(_a_) “If I did not know what deliberation was, I should be little
relieved in my knowledge by this description. Sometimes he makes it to
be a consideration, or an act of the understanding, sometimes an
imagination, or an act of the fancy, &c. So he makes it I know not
what.” If the Bishop had observed what he does himself, when he
deliberates, reasons, understands, or imagines, he would have known what
to make of all that I have said in this Number. He would have known that
consideration, understanding, reason, and all the passions of the mind,
are imaginations. That to consider a thing, is to imagine it; that to
understand a thing, is to imagine it; that to hope and fear, are to
imagine the things hoped for and feared. The difference between them is,
that when we imagine the consequence of anything, we are said to
consider that thing; and when we have imagined anything from a sign, and
especially from those signs we call names, we are said to understand his
meaning that maketh the sign; and when we reason, we imagine the
consequence of affirmations and negations joined together; and when we
hope or fear, we imagine things good or hurtful to ourselves: insomuch
as all these are but imaginations diversely named from different
circumstances: as any man may perceive as easily as he can look into his
own thoughts. But to him that thinketh not himself upon the things
whereof, but upon the words wherewith he speaketh, and taketh those
words on trust from puzzled Schoolmen, it is not only hard, but
impossible to be known. And this is the reason that maketh him say, I
make deliberation he knows not what. But how is deliberation defined by
him? “It is”, saith he, “an inquiry made by reason, whether this or that
definitely considered, be a good and fit means; or indefinitely, what
are good and fit means to be chosen for attaining some wished end.” If
it were not his custom to say, the understanding understandeth, the will
willeth, and so of the rest of the faculties, I should have believed
that when he says deliberation is an inquiry made by reason, he meaneth
an inquiry made by the man that reasoneth; for so it will be sense. But
the reason which a man useth in deliberation, being the same thing that
is called deliberation, his definition that deliberation is an inquiry
made by reason, is no more than if he had said, deliberation is an
inquiry made by deliberation; a definition good enough to be made by a
Schoolman. Nor is the rest of the definition altogether as it should be;
for there is no such thing as an “indefinite consideration of what are
good and fit means”; but a man imagining first one thing, then another,
considereth them successively and singly each one, whether it conduceth
to his ends or not.

                               NO. XXVII.

_T. H._ Thirdly, I conceive, that in all deliberations, that is to say,
in all alternate succession of contrary appetites, the last is that
which we call the will, and is immediately before the doing of the
action, or next before the doing of it become impossible. All other
appetites to do and to quit, that come upon a man during his
deliberation, are usually called intentions and inclinations, but not
wills; there being but one will, which also in this case may be called
last will, though the intention change often.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ (_a_) “Still here is nothing but confusion; he confounds the
faculty of the will with the act of volition; he makes the will to be
the last part of deliberation; he makes the intention, which is a most
proper and elicit act of the will, or a willing of the end, as it is to
be attained by certain means, to be no willing at all, but only some
antecedaneous _inclination_ or propension. He might as well say, that
the uncertain agitation of the needle hither and thither to find out the
pole, and the resting or fixing of itself directly towards the pole,
were both the same thing. But the grossest mistake is, that he will
acknowledge no act of man’s will, to be his will, but only the last act,
which he calls the last will. If the first were no will, how comes this
to be the last will? According to his doctrine, the will of a man should
be as unchangeable as the will of God, at least so long as there is a
possibility to effect it. (_b_) According to this doctrine,
concupiscence with consent should be no sin; for that which is not truly
willed is not a sin; or rather should not be at all, unless either the
act followed, or were rendered impossible by some intervening
circumstances. According to this doctrine no man can say, this is my
will, because he knows not yet whether it shall be his last appeal. The
truth is, there be many acts of the will, both in respect of the means
and of the end. But that act which makes a man’s actions to be truly
free, is election; which is the deliberate choosing or refusing of this
or that means, or the acceptation of one means before another, where
divers are represented by the understanding.

              ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE ANSWER TO NO. XXVII.

(_a_) “Still here is nothing but confusion; he confounds the faculty of
the will with the act of volition; he makes the will to be the last part
of deliberation; he makes the intention, which is a most proper and
elicit act of the will, to be no willing at all, but only some
antecedaneous (he might as well have said, antecedent) inclination.” To
confound the faculty of the will with the will, were to confound a
_will_ with _no will_; for the faculty of the will is no will; the act
only which he calls _volition_, is the will. As a man that sleepeth hath
the _power_ of _seeing_, and _seeth not_, nor hath for that time any
_sight_; so also he hath the _power_ of willing, but _willeth nothing_,
nor hath for that time any _will_. I must therefore have departed very
much from my own principles, if I have confounded the _faculty_ of the
_will_ with the _act_ of _volition_. He should have done well to have
shown where I confounded them. It is true, I make the will to be the
last part of deliberation; but it is that will which maketh the action
voluntary, and therefore needs must be the last. But for the preceding
variations of the will to do and not to do, though they be so many
several wills, contrary to and destroying one another, they usually are
called _intentions_; and therefore they are nothing to the will, of
which we dispute, that maketh an action voluntary. And though a man have
in every long deliberation a great many _wills_ and _nills_, they use to
be called inclinations, and the last only _will_ which is immediately
followed by the voluntary action. But nevertheless, both he that hath
those intentions, and God that seeth them, reckoneth them for so many
wills.

(_b_) “According to this doctrine, concupiscence with consent should be
no sin; for that which is not truly willed, is not a sin.” This is no
consequent to my doctrine: for I hold that they are, in the sight of
God, so many consents, so many willings, which would have been followed
by actions, if the actions had been in their power. It had been fitter
for a man in whom is required gravity and sanctity more than ordinary,
to have chosen some other kind of instance. But what meaneth he by
_concupiscence with consent_? Can there be concupiscence without
consent? It is the consent itself. There may be also a lawful
concupiscence with consent. For concupiscence makes not the sin, but the
unlawfulness of satisfying such concupiscence; and not the consent, but
the will and design to prosecute that which a man knoweth to be
unlawful. An appetite to another man’s bread, is concupiscence; and
though it be with consent to eat, it is no sin; but the design to take
it from the other, notwithstanding that he may fail in his design, that
is the sin. And this instance might have served his turn as well as the
other; and for consent, if he had understood the truth, he might have
put design.

                              NO. XXVIII.

_T. H._ Fourthly, that those actions which man is said to do upon
deliberation, are said to be voluntary, and done upon choice and
election. So that voluntary action, and action proceeding from election,
is the same thing. And that of a voluntary agent, it is all one to say
he is free, and to say he hath not made an end of deliberating.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_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.

             ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE ANSWER TO NO. XXVIII.

(_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.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_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”.

              ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE ANSWER TO NO. XXIX.

(_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.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_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.”

               ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE ANSWER TO NO. XXX.

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.

                               NO. XXXI.

_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.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_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.”

              ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE ANSWER TO NO. XXXI.

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.

                               NO. XXXII.

_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.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_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.

              ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE ANSWER TO NO. XXXII.

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.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_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’.”

             ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE ANSWER TO NO. XXXIII.

I have said in the beginning of this number, that to define what
spontaneity is, what deliberation is, what will, propension, appetite, a
free agent, and liberty is, and to prove they are well defined, there
can be no other proof offered, but every man’s own experience and memory
of what he meaneth by such words. For definitions being the beginning of
all demonstration, cannot themselves be demonstrated, that is, proved to
another man; all that can be done, is either to put him in mind what
those words signify commonly in the matter whereof they treat, or if the
words be unusual, to make the definitions of them true by mutual consent
in their signification. And though this be manifestly true, yet there is
nothing of it amongst the Schoolmen, who use to argue not by rule, but
as fencers teach to handle weapons, by quickness only of the hand and
eye. The Bishop therefore boggles at this kind of proof; and says, (_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,” &c. But what will he answer, if
I should ask him, how he will judge of the causes of things, whereof he
hath no idea or conception in his own mind? It is therefore impossible
to give a true definition of any word without the idea of the thing
which that word signifieth, or not according to that idea or conception.
Here again he discovereth the true cause why he and other Schoolmen so
often speak absurdly. For they speak without conception of the things,
and by rote, one receiving what he saith from another by tradition, from
some puzzled divine or philosopher, that to decline a difficulty speaks
in such manner as not to be understood. And where he bids us ask an
ordinary person what upwards signifieth, I dare answer for that ordinary
person he will tell us as significantly as any scholar, and say it is
towards heaven; and as soon as he knows the earth is round, makes no
scruple to believe there are antipodes, being wiser in that point than
were those which he saith to have been of more than ordinary capacities.
Again, ordinary men understand not, he saith, the words _empty_ and
_body_; yes, but they do, just as well as learned men. When they hear
named an empty vessel, the learned as well as the unlearned mean and
understand the same thing, namely, that there is nothing in it that can
be seen; and whether it be truly empty, the ploughman and the Schoolman
know alike. “I might give”, he says, “a hundred such like instances.”
That is true; a man may give a thousand foolish and impertinent
instances of men ignorant in such questions of philosophy concerning
emptiness, body, upwards, and downwards, and the like. But the question
is not whether such and such tenets be true, but whether such and such
words can be well defined without thinking upon the things they
signified; as the Bishop thinks they may, when he concludeth with these
words, “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.” A man is born
with a capacity after due time and experience to reason truly; to which
capacity of nature, if there be added no discipline at all, yet as far
as he reasoneth he will reason truly; though by a right discipline he
may reason truly in more numerous and various matters. But he that hath
lighted on deceiving or deceived masters, that teach for truth all that
hath been dictated to them by their own interest, or hath been cried up
by other such teachers before them, have for the most part their natural
reason, as far as concerneth the truth of doctrine, quite defaced or
very much weakened, becoming changelings through the enchantments of
words not understood. This cometh into my mind from this saying of the
Bishop, that matter of fact is not verified by sense and memory, but by
arguments. How is it possible that, without discipline, a man should
come to think that the testimony of a witness, which is the only
verifier of matter of fact, should consist not in sense and memory, so
as he may say he saw and remembers the thing done, but in arguments or
syllogisms? Or how can an unlearned man be brought to think the words he
speaks, ought to signify, when he speaks sincerely, anything else but
that which himself meant by them? Or how can any man without learning
take the question, “whether the sun be no bigger than a ball, or bigger
than the earth”, to be a question of fact? Nor do I think that any man
is so simple, as not to find that to be good which he loveth; good, I
say, so far forth, as it maketh him to love it. Or is there any
unlearned man so stupid, as to think eternity is this present instant of
time standing still, and the same eternity to be the very next instant
after; and consequently that there be so many eternities as there can be
instants of time supposed? No, there is scholastic learning required in
some measure to make one mad.

(_c_) “Then for his assumption, it is as defective as his proposition,
that by these words, spontaneity, &c. men do understand as he conceives,
&c. No rational man doth conceive a spontaneous action and an
indeliberate action to be all one; every indeliberate action is not
spontaneous, &c.” Not every _spontaneous_ action _indeliberate_? This I
get by striving to make sense of that which he strives to make nonsense.
I never thought the word _spontaneity_ English. Yet because he used it,
I make such meaning of it as it would bear, and said it “meant
inconsiderate proceeding, or nothing”. And for this my too much
officiousness, I receive the reward of being thought by him not to be a
rational man. I know that in the Latin of all authors but Schoolmen,
_actio spontanea_ signifies that action, whereof there is no apparent
cause derived further than from the agent itself; and is in all things
that have sense the same with voluntary, whether deliberated or not
deliberated. And therefore where he distinguished it from voluntary, I
thought he might mean indeliberate. But let it signify what it will,
provided it be intelligible, it would make against him.

(_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.” If the Bishop’s words proceeded not from hearing
and reading of others, but from his own thoughts, he could never have
reprehended this definition of deliberation, especially in the manner he
doth it; for he says, it is the considering whether this or that be a
good and fit means for obtaining such an end; as if considering whether
a means be good or not, were not all one with considering whether the
sequel of using those means be good or evil.

(_e_) “Much less doth any man conceive with T. H. that ‘deliberation is
an act of fancy’, not of reason, common to men of discretion with
madmen, natural fools, children, and brute beasts”. I do indeed conceive
that deliberation is an act of imagination or fancy; nay more, that
reason and understanding also are acts of the imagination, that is to
say, they are imaginations. I find it so by considering my own
ratiocination; and he might find it so in his, if he did consider his
own thoughts, and not speak as he does by rote; by rote I say, when he
disputes; not by rote, when he is about those trifles he calleth
business; then when he speaks, he thinks of, that is to say, he
imagines, his business; but here he thinks only upon the words of other
men that have gone before him in this question, transcribing their
conclusions and arguments, not his own thoughts.

(_f_) “Thirdly, neither doth any understanding man conceive, or can
conceive, either ‘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’.” Though the understanding
and the will were two distinct faculties, yet followeth it not that the
will and the deliberation are two distinct faculties. For the whole
deliberation is nothing else but so many wills alternatively changed,
according as a man understandeth or fancieth the good and evil sequels
of the thing concerning which he deliberateth whether he shall pursue
it, or of the means whether they conduce or not to that end, whatsoever
it be, he seeketh to obtain. So that in deliberation there be many
wills, whereof not any is the cause of a voluntary action but the last;
as I have said before, answering this objection in another place.

(_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? &c. It may be he will say he can do if he will and
forbear if he will, but he cannot will if he will.” He has no reason to
wonder how this dropped from my pen. He found it in my answer No. III,
and has been all this while about to confute it, so long indeed that he
had forgot I said it; and now again brings another argument to prove a
man is free to will, which is this: “Either the agent can will and
forbear to will, or else he cannot do and forbear to do”. There is no
doubt a man can will one thing or other, and forbear to will it. For
men, if they be awake, are always willing one thing or other. But put
the case, a man has a will to-day to do a certain action to-morrow; is
he sure to have the same will to-morrow, when he is to do it? Is he free
to-day, to choose to-morrow’s will? This is it that is now in question,
and this argument maketh nothing for the affirmative or negative.

(_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 were 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.” How does it appear, that he who conceives liberty
aright, conceives a liberty in the subject to will or not to will;
unless he mean liberty to do if he will, or not to do if he will not,
which was never denied? Or how does it follow, that a stone is as free
to ascend as descend, unless he prove there is no outward impediment to
its ascent; which cannot be proved, for the contrary is true? Or how
proveth he, that there is no outward impediment to keep that point of
the loadstone, which placeth itself towards the north, from turning to
the south? His ignorance of the causes external is not a sufficient
argument that there are none. And whereas he saith, that according to my
definition of liberty, “a hawk were at liberty to fly when her wings are
plucked, but not when they are tied”; I answer that she is not at
liberty to fly when her wings are tied; but to say, when her wings are
plucked that she wanted the liberty to fly, were to speak improperly and
absurdly; for in that case, men that speak English use to say she cannot
fly. And for his reprehension of my attributing liberty to brute beasts
and rivers; I would be glad to know whether it be improper language, to
say a bird or beast may be set at liberty from the cage wherein they
were imprisoned or to say that a river, which was stopped, hath
recovered its free course; and how it follows, that a beast or river
recovering this freedom must needs therefore “be capable of sin and
punishment”?

(_i_) “The reason for the sixth point is like the former, a phantastical
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_ without a necessary cause.” He granteth nothing
can _begin_ without a cause; and he hath granted formerly that nothing
can cause itself. And now he saith, it may begin _to act_ of itself. The
action therefore _begins to be_ without any cause, which he said nothing
could do, contradicting what he had said but in the line before. And for
that that he saith, that “many things may begin not without a cause, but
without a necessary cause”; it hath been argued before; and all causes
have been proved, if entire and sufficient causes, to be necessary. And
that which he repeateth here, namely, that “a free cause may choose his
time when he will begin to work”; and that “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”; it has been made appear sufficiently
before that it is but jargon, the words _free cause_ and _determining
themselves_ being insignificant, and having nothing in the mind of man
answerable to them.

(_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 to examine himself, &c.” One of his interrogatories is this,
“whether I find not by experience, that I do many things which I might
have left undone if I would”. This question was needless, because all
the way I have granted him that men have liberty to do many things if
they will, which they left undone because they had not the will to do
them. Another interrogatory is this, “whether I do not some things
without regard to the direction of right reason, or serious respect of
what is honest or profitable”. This question was in vain, unless he
think himself my confessor. Another is, “whether I writ not this defence
against liberty, only to show I will have a dominion over my own
actions”. To this I answer, no: but to show I have no dominion over my
will, and this also at his request. But all these questions serve in
this place for nothing else, but to deliver him of a jest he was in
labour withal: and therefore his last question is, “whether I do not
sometimes say, ‘Oh, what a fool was I to do thus and thus!’ or, ‘Oh,
that I had been wise!’ or, ‘Oh, what a fool was I to grow old!’” Subtle
questions, and full of episcopal gravity! I would he had left out
charging me with _blasphemous, desperate, destructive, and atheistical_
opinions. I should then have pardoned him his calling me _fool_; both
because I do many things foolishly, and because, in this question
disputed between us, I think he will appear a greater fool than I.

                               NO. XXXIV.

_T. H._ For the seventh point, that all events have necessary causes, it
is there proved in that they have sufficient causes. Further, let us in
this place also suppose any event never so casual, as for example, the
throwing ambs-ace upon a pair of dice; and see if it must not have been
necessary before it was thrown. For, seeing it was thrown, it had a
beginning, and consequently a sufficient cause to produce it; consisting
partly in the dice, partly in the outward things, as the posture of the
party’s hand, the measure of force applied by the caster, the posture of
the parts of the table, and the like. In sum, there was nothing wanting
that was necessarily requisite to the producing of that particular cast;
and consequently, that cast was necessarily thrown. For if it had not
been thrown, there had wanted somewhat requisite to the throwing of it;
and so the cause had not been sufficient. In the like manner it may be
proved that every other accident, how contingent soever it seem, or how
voluntary soever it be, is produced necessarily; which is that J. D.
disputes against. The same also may be proved in this manner. Let the
case be put for example, of the weather. _It is necessary, that
to-morrow it shall rain or not rain._ If therefore it be not necessary
it shall rain, it is necessary it shall not rain. Otherwise it is not
necessary that the proposition, _it shall rain or it shall not rain_,
should be true. I know there are some that say, it may necessarily be
true, that one of the two shall come to pass, but not singly, that it
shall rain or it shall not rain. Which is as much as to say, one of them
is necessary, yet neither of them is necessary. And therefore, to seem
to avoid that absurdity, they make a distinction, that neither of them
is true _determinate_, but _indeterminate_. Which distinction either
signifies no more than this: one of them is true, but we know not which,
and so the necessity remains, though we know it not: or if the meaning
of the distinction be not that, it has no meaning. And they might as
well have said, one of them is true _tytyrice_, but neither of them
_tupatulice_.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ (_a_) “His former proof, that all sufficient causes are
necessary causes, is answered before (No. XXXI). (_b_) And his two
instances of casting ambs-ace, and raining to-morrow, are altogether
impertinent to the question now agitated between us, for two reasons.
First, our present controversy is concerning free actions, which proceed
from the liberty of man’s will: both his instances are of contingent
actions, which proceed from the indetermination or contingent
concurrence of natural causes. First, that there are free actions which
proceed merely from election, without any outward necessitation, is a
truth so evident as that there is a sun in the heavens; and he that
doubteth of it, may as well doubt whether there be a shell without the
nut, or a stone within the olive. A man proportions his time each day,
and allots so much to his devotions, so much to his study, so much to
his diet, so much to his recreations, so much to necessary or civil
visits, so much to his rest; he who will seek for I know not what causes
of all this without himself, except that good God who hath given him a
reasonable soul, may as well seek for a cause of the Egyptian pyramids
among the crocodiles of Nilus. (_c_) Secondly, for mixed actions which
proceed from the concurrence of free and natural agents, though they be
not free, yet they are not necessary. As, to keep my former instance, a
man walking through a street of a city to do his occasions, a tile falls
from a house and breaks his head. The breaking of his head was not
necessary, for he did freely choose to go that way without any
necessitation; neither was it free, for he did not deliberate of that
accident; therefore it was contingent, and by undoubted consequence,
there are contingent actions in the world which are not free. Most
certainly by the concurrence of free causes, as God, the good and bad
angels, and men, with natural agents, sometimes on purpose and sometimes
by accident, many events happen, which otherwise had never happened;
many effects are produced, which otherwise had never been produced. And
admitting such things to be contingent, not necessary, all their
consequent effects, not only immediate, but mediate, must likewise be
contingent, that is to say, such as do not proceed from a continued
connexion and succession of necessary causes; which is directly contrary
to T. H.’s opinion.

(_d_) “Thirdly, for the actions of brute beasts, though they be not
free, though they have not the use of reason to restrain their appetites
from that which is sensitively good by the consideration of what is
rationally good, or what is honest, and though their fancies be
determined by nature to some kinds of work; yet to think that every
individual action of theirs, and each animal motion of theirs, even to
the least murmur or gesture, is bound by the chain of unalterable
necessity to the extrinsical causes or objects, I see no ground for it.
Christ saith, _one of these sparrows doth not fall to the ground without
your heavenly Father_, that is, without an influence of power from him,
or exempted from his disposition; he doth not say, which your heavenly
Father casteth not down. Lastly, for the natural actions of inanimate
creatures, wherein there is not the least concurrence of any free or
voluntary agents, the question is yet more doubtful. For many things are
called contingent in respect of us, because we know not the cause of
them, which really and in themselves are not contingent, but necessary.
Also many things are contingent in respect of one single cause, either
actually hindered, or in possibility to be hindered, which are necessary
in respect of the joint concurrence of all collateral causes. (_e_) But
whether there be a necessary connexion of all natural causes from the
beginning, so as they must all have concurred as they have done, and in
the same degree of power, and have been deficient as they have been in
all events whatsoever, would require a further examination, if it were
pertinent to this question of liberty; but it is not. It is sufficient
to my purpose, to have showed that all elective actions are free from
absolute necessity: and moreover, that the concurrence of voluntary and
free agents with natural causes, both upon purpose and accidentally,
hath helped them to produce many effects, which otherwise they had not
produced, and hindered them from producing many effects, which otherwise
they had produced: and that if this intervention of voluntary and free
agents had been more frequent than it hath been, as without doubt it
might have been, many natural events had been otherwise than they are.
And therefore he might have spared his instance of casting ambs-ace and
raining to-morrow. And first, for his casting ambs-ace: if it be thrown
by a fair gamester with indifferent dice, it is a mixed action; the
casting of the dice is free, but the casting of ambs-ace is contingent.
A man may deliberate whether he will cast the dice or not; but it were
folly to deliberate whether he will cast ambs-ace or not, because it is
not in his power, unless he be a cheater that can cog the dice, or the
dice be false dice; and then the contingency, or degree of contingency,
ceaseth accordingly as the caster hath more or less cunning, or as the
figure or making of the dice doth incline them to ambs-ace more than to
another cast, or necessitate them to this cast and no other. Howsoever,
so far as the cast is free or contingent, so far it is not necessary:
and where necessity begins, there liberty and contingency do cease to
be. Likewise his other instance of raining or not raining to-morrow, is
not of a free elective act, nor always of a contingent act. In some
countries, as they have their _stati venti_, their certain winds at set
seasons; so they have their certain and set rains. The Ethiopian rains
are supposed to be the cause of the certain inundation of Nilus. In some
eastern countries they have rain only twice a year, and those constant;
which the Scriptures call _the former and the later rain_. In such
places not only the causes do act determinately and necessarily, but
also the determination or necessity of the event is foreknown to the
inhabitants. In our climate, the natural causes celestial and sublunary
do not produce rain so necessarily at set times; neither can we say so
certainly and infallibly, it will rain to-morrow, or it will not rain
to-morrow. Nevertheless, it may so happen that the causes are so
disposed and determined, even in our climate, that this proposition, it
will rain to-morrow or it will not rain to-morrow, may be necessary in
itself; and the prognostics, or tokens, may be such in the sky, in our
own bodies, in the creatures, animate and inanimate, as weather glasses,
&c., that it may become probably true to us that it will rain to-morrow,
or it will not rain to-morrow. But ordinarily, it is a contingent
proposition to us; whether it be contingent also in itself, that is,
whether the concurrence of the causes were absolutely necessary, whether
the vapours or matter of the rain may not yet be dispersed, or otherwise
consumed, or driven beyond our coast, is a speculation which no way
concerns this question. So we see one reason why his two instances are
altogether impertinent; because they are of actions which are not free,
nor elective, nor such as proceed from the liberty of man’s will.

“Secondly, our dispute is about absolute necessity; his proofs extend
only to hypothetical necessity. Our question is, whether the concurrence
and determination of the causes were necessary before they did concur,
or were determined. He proves that the effect is necessary after the
causes have concurred, and are determined. The freest actions of God or
man are necessary, by such a necessity of supposition, and the most
contingent events that are, as I have showed plainly, No. III, where his
instance of ambs-ace is more fully answered. So his proof looks another
way from his proposition. His proposition is, ‘that the casting of
ambs-ace was necessary before it was thrown’. His proof is, that it was
necessary when it was thrown. Examine all his causes over and over, and
they will not afford him one grain of antecedent necessity. The first
cause is in the dice: true, if they be false dice there may be something
in it; but then his contingency is destroyed: if they be square dice,
they have no more inclination to ambs-ace, than to cinque and quatre, or
any other cast. His second cause is ‘the posture of the party’s hand’:
but what necessity was there that he should put his hands into such a
posture? None at all. The third cause is ‘the measure of the force
applied by the caster’. Now for the credit of his cause let him but
name, I will not say a convincing reason nor so much as a probable
reason, but even any pretence of reason, how the caster was necessitated
from without himself to apply just so much force, and neither more nor
less. If he cannot, his cause is desperate, and he may hold his peace
for ever. His last cause is the posture of the table. But tell us in
good earnest, what necessity there was why the caster must throw into
that table rather than the other, or that the dice must fall just upon
that part of the table, before the cast was thrown: he that makes these
to be necessary causes, I do not wonder if he make all effects necessary
effects. If any one of these causes be contingent, it is sufficient to
render the cast contingent; and now that they are all so contingent, yet
he will needs have the effect to be necessary. And so it is when the
cast is thrown; but not before the cast was thrown, which he undertook
to prove. Who can blame him for being so angry with the Schoolmen, and
their distinctions of necessity into absolute and hypothetical, seeing
they touch his freehold so nearly?

“But though his instance of raining to-morrow be impertinent, as being
no free action, yet because he triumphs so much in his argument, I will
not stick to go a little out of my way to meet a friend. For I confess
the validity of the reason had been the same, if he had made it of a
free action, as thus: _either I shall finish this reply to-morrow, or I
shall not finish this reply to-morrow_, is a necessary proposition. But
because he shall not complain of any disadvantage in the alteration of
his terms, I will for once adventure upon his shower of rain. And first,
I readily admit his major, that this proposition, _either it will rain
to-morrow or it will not rain to-morrow_, is necessarily true: for of
two contradictory propositions, the one must of necessity be true,
because no third can be given. But his minor, that ‘it could not be
necessarily true, except one of the members were necessarily true’, is
most false. And so is his proof likewise, that ‘if neither the one nor
the other of the members be necessarily true, it cannot be affirmed that
either the one or the other is true’. A conjunct proposition may have
both parts false, and yet the proposition be true; as, _if the sun shine
it is day_, is a true proposition at midnight. And T. H. confesseth as
much, No. XIX. ‘_If I shall live I shall eat_, is a necessary
proposition, that is to say, it is necessary that that proposition
should be true whensoever uttered. But it is not the necessity of the
thing, nor is it therefore necessary that the man shall live or that the
man shall eat’. And so T. H. proceeds: ‘I do not use to fortify my
distinctions with such reasons’. But it seemeth he hath forgotten
himself, and is contented with such poor fortifications. And though both
parts of a disjunctive proposition cannot be false; because if it be a
right disjunction, the members are repugnant, whereof one part is
infallibly true; yet vary but the proposition a little to abate the edge
of the disjunctions, and you shall find in that which T. H. saith to be
true, that it is not the necessity of the thing which makes the
proposition to be true. As for example, vary it thus: _I know that
either it will rain to-morrow or that it will not rain to-morrow_, is a
true proposition: but it is not true that I know it will rain to-morrow,
neither is it true that I know it will not rain to-morrow; wherefore the
certain truth of the proposition doth not prove that either of the
members is determinately true in present. Truth is a conformity of the
understanding to the thing known, whereof speech is an interpreter. If
the understanding agree not with the thing, it is an error; if the words
agree not with the understanding, it is a lie. Now the thing known, is
known either in itself or in its causes. If it be known in itself as it
is, then we express our apprehension of it in words of the present
tense; as _the sun is risen_. If it be known in its cause, we express
ourselves in words of the future tense; as _to-morrow will be an eclipse
of the moon_. But if we neither know it in itself, nor in its causes,
then there may be a foundation of truth, but there is no such
determinate truth of it that we can reduce it into a true proposition.
We cannot say it doth rain to-morrow, or it doth not rain to-morrow;
that were not only false but absurd. We cannot positively say it will
rain to-morrow, because we do not know it in its causes, either how they
are determined or that they are determined. Wherefore the certitude and
evidence of the disjunctive proposition is neither founded upon that
which will be actually to-morrow, for it is granted that we do not know
that; nor yet upon the determination of the causes, for then we would
not say indifferently either it will rain or it will not rain, but
positively it will rain, or positively it will not rain. But it is
grounded upon an undeniable principle, that of two contradictory
propositions the one must necessarily be true. (_f_) And therefore to
say, _either this or that will infallibly be, but it is not yet
determined whether this or that shall be_, is no such senseless
assertion that it deserved a _tytyrice tupatulice_, but an evident truth
which no man that hath his eyes in his head can doubt of.

(_g_) “If all this will not satisfy him, I will give one of his own kind
of proofs; that is, an instance. That which necessitates all things,
according to T. H. (No. XI), is the decree of God, or that order which
is set to all things by the eternal cause. Now God himself, who made
this necessitating decree, was not subjected to it in the making
thereof; neither was there any former order to oblige the first cause
necessarily to make such a decree; therefore this decree being an act
_ad extra_, was freely made by God without any necessitation. Yet
nevertheless this disjunctive proposition is necessarily true: _either
God did make each a decree, or he did not make such a decree_. Again,
though T. H.’s opinion were true, that all events are necessary, and
that the whole Christian world are deceived who believe that some events
are free from necessity; yet he will not deny, but if it had been the
good pleasure of God, he might have made some causes free from
necessity; seeing that it neither argues any imperfection, nor implies
any contradiction. Supposing therefore that God had made some second
causes free from any such antecedent determination to one; yet the
former disjunction would be necessarily true: either this free
undetermined cause will act after this manner, or it will not act after
this manner. Wherefore the necessary truth of such a disjunctive
proposition doth not prove that either of the members of the disjunction
singly considered, is determinately true in present; but only that the
one of them will be determinately true to-morrow.

              ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE ANSWER TO NO. XXXIV.

(_a_) “His former proof, that all sufficient causes are necessary
causes, is answered before (No. XXXI).” When he shall have read my
animadversions upon that answer of his, he will think otherwise,
whatsoever he will confess.

(_b_) “And his two instances of casting ambs-ace, and of raining
to-morrow, are altogether impertinent to the question, for two reasons.”
His first reason is, “because”, saith he, “our present controversy is
concerning free actions, which proceed from the liberty of man’s will;
and both his instances are of contingent actions, which proceed from the
indetermination, or contingent concurrence of natural causes”. He knows
that this part of my discourse, which beginneth at No. XXV, is no
dispute with him at all, but a bare setting down of my opinion
concerning the natural necessity of all things; which is opposite, not
only to the liberty of will, but also to all contingence that is not
necessary. And therefore these instances were not impertinent to my
purpose; and if they be impertinent to his opinion of the liberty of
man’s will, he does impertinently to meddle with them. And yet for all
he pretends here, that the question is only about liberty of the will;
yet in his first discourse (No. XVI), he maintains that “the order,
beauty, and perfection of the world doth require that in the universe
should be agents of all sorts, some necessary, some free, some
contingent”. And my purpose here is to show by those instances, that
those things which we esteem most contingent are nevertheless necessary.
Besides, the controversy is not whether free actions which proceed from
the liberty of man’s will, be necessary or not; for I know no action
which proceedeth from the liberty of man’s will. But the question is,
whether those actions which proceed from the man’s will, be necessary.
The man’s will is something, but the liberty of his will is nothing.
Again, the question is not whether contingent actions which proceed from
the indetermination or contingent concurrence of natural causes, (for
there is nothing that can proceed from indetermination), but whether
contingent actions be necessary before they be done; or whether the
concurrence of natural causes, when they happen to concur, were not
necessitated so to happen; or whether whatsoever chanceth, be not
necessitated so to chance. And that they are so necessitated, I have
proved already with such arguments as the Bishop, for aught I see,
cannot answer. For to say, as he doth, that “there are free actions
which proceed merely from election, without any outward necessitation,
is a truth so evident as that there is a sun in the heavens”, is no
proof. It is indeed as clear as the sun, that there are free actions
proceeding from election; but that there is election without any outward
necessitation, is dark enough.

(_c_) “Secondly, for mixed actions, which proceed from the concurrence
of free and natural agents, though they be not free, yet they are not
necessary, &c.” For proof of this he instanceth in a tile, that falling
from a house breaks a man’s head, neither necessarily nor freely, and
therefore contingently. Not necessarily, “for”, saith he, “he did freely
choose to go that way without any necessitation”. Which is as much as
taking the question itself for a proof. For what is else the question,
but whether a man be necessitated to choose what he chooseth? “Again”,
saith he, “it was not free, because he did not deliberate whether his
head should be broken or not”; and concludes “therefore it was
contingent; and by undoubted consequence, there are contingent actions
in the world which are not free”. This is true, and denied by none; but
he should have proved, that such contingent actions are not antecedently
necessary by a concurrence of natural causes; though a little before he
granteth they are. For whatsoever is produced by a concurrence of
natural causes, was antecedently determined in the cause of such
concurrence, though, as he calls it, contingent concurrence; not
perceiving that concurrence and contingent concurrence are all one, and
suppose a continued connection and succession of causes which make the
effect necessarily future. So that hitherto he hath proved no other
contingence than that which is necessary.

(_d_) “Thirdly, for the actions of brute beasts, &c, to think each
animal motion of theirs is bound by the chain of unalterable necessity,
I see no ground for it.” It maketh nothing against the truth, that he
sees no ground for it. I have pointed out the ground in my former
discourse, and am not bound to find him eyes. He himself immediately
citeth a place of Scripture that proveth it, where Christ saith, _one of
these sparrows doth not fall to the ground without your heavenly
Father_; which place, if there were no more, were a sufficient ground
for the assertion of the necessity of all those changes of animal motion
in birds and other living creatures, which seem to us so uncertain. But
when a man is dizzy with _influence of power_, _elicit acts_,
_permissive will_, _hypothetical necessity_, and the like unintelligible
terms, the ground goes from him. By and by after he confesseth that
“many things are called contingent in respect of us, because we know not
the cause of them, which really and in themselves are not contingent,
but necessary”; and errs therein the other way; for he says in effect,
that many things are, which are not; for it is all one to say, they are
not contingent, and they are not. He should have said, there be many
things, the necessity of whose contingence we cannot or do not know.

(_e_) “But whether there be a necessary connexion of all natural causes
from the beginning, so as they must all have concurred as they have
done, &c, would require a further examination, if it were pertinent to
this question of liberty; but it is not. It is sufficient to my purpose
to have showed, &c.” If there be a necessary connexion of all natural
causes from the beginning, then there is no doubt but that all things
happen necessarily, which is that that I have all this while maintained.
But whether there be or no, he says, it requires a further examination.
Hitherto therefore he knows not whether it be true or no, and
consequently all his arguments hitherto have been of no effect, nor hath
he showed anything to prove, what he purposed, that elective actions are
not necessitated. And whereas a little before he says, that to my
arguments to prove that sufficient causes are necessary, he hath already
answered; it seemeth he distrusteth his own answer, and answers again to
the two instances of _casting ambs-ace_, and _raining or not raining
to-morrow_; but brings no other argument to prove the cast thrown not to
be necessarily thrown, but this, that he does not deliberate whether he
shall throw that cast or not. Which argument may perhaps prove that the
casting of it proceedeth not from free will, but proves not anything
against the antecedent necessity of it. And to prove that it is not
necessary that it should rain or not rain to-morrow; after telling us
that the Ethiopian rains cause the inundation of Nilus: that in some
eastern countries they have rain only twice a year, which the Scripture,
he saith, calleth _the former and the latter rain_; (I thought he had
known it by the experience of some travellers, but I see he only
gathereth it from that phrase in Scripture of _former and latter rain_);
I say, after he has told us this, to prove that it is not necessary it
should rain or not rain to-morrow he saith that “in our climate the
natural causes, celestial and sublunary, do not produce rain so
necessarily at set times, as in the eastern countries; neither can we
say so certainly and infallibly, it will rain to-morrow, or it will not
rain to-morrow”. By this argument a man may take the height of the
Bishop’s logic. “In our climate the natural causes do not produce rain
so necessarily at set times, as in some eastern countries. Therefore
they do not produce rain necessarily in our climate, then when they do
produce it”. And again, “we cannot say so certainly and infallibly, it
will rain to-morrow or it will not rain to-morrow; therefore it is not
necessary either that it should rain, or that it should not rain
to-morrow”: as if nothing were necessary the necessity whereof we know
not. Another reason, he saith, why my instances are impertinent, is
because “they extend only to an hypothetical necessity”, that is, that
the necessity is not in the antecedent causes; and thereupon challengeth
me for the credit of my cause to name some reason, “how the caster was
necessitated from without himself to apply just so much force to the
cast, and neither more nor less; or what necessity there was why the
caster must throw into that table rather than the other, or that the
dice must fall just upon that part of the table, before the cast was
thrown”. Here again, from our ignorance of the particular causes that
concurring make the necessity he inferreth, that there was no such
necessity at all; which indeed is that which hath in all this question
deceived him, and all other men that attribute events to fortune. But I
suppose he will not deny that event to be necessary, where all the
causes of the cast, and their concurrence, and the cause of that
concurrence are foreknown, and might be told him, though I cannot tell
him. Seeing therefore God foreknows them all, the cast was necessary;
and that from antecedent causes from eternity; which is no hypothetical
necessity.

And whereas to my argument to prove, that ‘raining to-morrow if it shall
then rain, and not raining to-morrow if it shall then not rain’, was
therefore necessary, because ‘otherwise this disjunctive proposition, it
shall rain or not rain to-morrow, is not necessary’, he answereth that
“a conjunct proposition may have both parts false, and yet the
proposition be true; as, if the sun shine it is day, is a true
proposition at midnight”: what has a conjunct proposition to do with
this in question, which is disjunctive? Or what be the parts of this
proposition, _if the sun shine, it is day_? It is not made of two
propositions, as a disjunctive is; but is one simple proposition,
namely, this, _the shining of the sun is day_. Either he has no logic at
all, or thinks they have no reason at all that are his readers. But he
has a trick, he saith, to abate the edge of the disjunction, by varying
ther proposition thus, “I know that _it will rain to-morrow_, or _that
it will not rain to-morrow_, is a true proposition”; and yet saith he,
“it is neither true that I know it will rain to-morrow, neither is it
true that I know it will not rain to-morrow”. What childish deceit, or
childish ignorance is this; when he is to prove that neither of the
members is determinately true in a disjunctive proposition, to bring for
instance a proposition not disjunctive? It had been disjunctive if it
had gone thus, _I know that it will rain to-morrow, or I know that it
will not rain to-morrow_; but then he had certainly known determinately
one of the two.

(_f_) “And therefore to say, either this or that will infallibly be, but
it is not yet determined whether this or that shall be, is no such
senseless assertion that it deserved a _tytyrice tupatulice_”. But it is
a senseless assertion, whatsoever it deserve, to say that this
proposition, it shall rain or not rain, is true _indeterminedly_, and
neither of them true _determinedly_; and little better, as he hath now
qualified it, “that it will infallibly be, though it be not yet
determined whether it shall be or no”.

(_g_) “If all this will not satisfy him, I will give him one of his own
kinds of proof, that is, an instance. That which necessitates all
things, according to T. H. is the decree of God, &c.” His instance is,
“that God himself made this necessitating decree, and therefore this
decree, being an act _ad extra_, was freely made by God, without any
necessitation”. I do believe the Bishop himself believeth that all the
decrees of God have been from all eternity, and therefore he will not
stand to this, that God’s decrees were ever made; for whatsoever hath
been made, hath had a beginning. Besides, God’s decree is his will; and
the Bishop hath said formerly, that the will of God is God, the justice
of God, God, &c. If therefore God made a decree, according to the
Bishop’s opinion God made himself. By which we may see, what fine stuff
it is that proceedeth from disputing of incomprehensibles. Again he
says, “if it had been the good pleasure of God, he might have made some
causes free from necessity; seeing that it neither argues any
imperfection, nor implies any contradiction”. If God had made either
causes or effects free from necessity, he had made them free from his
own prescience; which had been imperfection. Perhaps he will say, that
in these words of his, _the decree, being an act ad extra, was freely
made by God_, I take no notice of that _act ad extra_, as being too hot
for my fingers. Therefore now I take notice of it, and say that it is
neither Latin, nor English, nor sense.

                               NO. XXXV.

_T. H._ The last thing, in which also consisteth the whole controversy,
namely, that there is no such thing as an agent, which, when all things
requisite to action are present, can nevertheless forbear to produce it,
or (which is all one) that there is no such thing as freedom from
necessity; is easily inferred from that which hath been before alleged.
For if it be an agent, it can work; and if it work, there is nothing
wanting of what is requisite to produce the action; and consequently the
cause of the action is sufficient; and if sufficient, then also
necessary, as hath been proved before.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “I wonder that T. H. should confess, that the whole weight of
this controversy doth rest upon this proposition: ‘that there is no such
thing as an agent, which, when all things requisite to action are
present, can nevertheless forbear to act’; and yet bring nothing but
such poor bullrushes to support it. (_a_) ‘If it be an agent’, saith he,
‘it can work’; what of this? _A posse ad esse non valet argumentum_:
from _can work_ to _will work_, is a weak inference. And from _will
work_ to _doth work upon absolute necessity_, is another gross
inconsequence. He proceeds thus: ‘if it work, there is nothing wanting
of what is requisite to produce the action’. True, there wants nothing
to produce that which is produced; but there may want much to produce
that which was intended. One horse may pull his heart out, and yet not
draw the coach whither it should be, if he want the help or concurrence
of his fellows. ‘And consequently’, saith he, ‘the cause of the action
is sufficient’. Yes, sufficient to do what it doth, though perhaps with
much prejudice to itself; but not always sufficient to do what it should
do, or what it would do. As he that begets a monster, should beget a
man, and would beget a man if he could. The last link of his argument
follows: (_b_) ‘and if sufficient, then also necessary’. Stay there; by
his leave, there is no necessary connexion between sufficiency and
efficiency; otherwise God himself should not be all-sufficient. Thus his
argument is vanished. But I will deal more favourably with him, and
grant him all that which he labours so much in vain to prove, that every
effect in the world hath sufficient causes; yea more, that supposing the
determination of the free and contingent causes, every effect in the
world is necessary. (_c_) But all this will not advantage his cause the
black of a bean: for still it amounts but to an hypothetical necessity,
and differs as much from that absolute necessity, which he maintains, as
a gentleman who travels for his pleasure, differs from a banished man,
or a free subject from a slave.”

              ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE ANSWER TO NO. XXXV.

(_a_) “‘If it be an agent,’ saith he, ‘it can work’. What of this? _A
posse ad esse non valet argumentum_; from _can work_ to _will work_, is
a weak inference. And from _will work_ to _doth work upon absolute
necessity_, is another gross inconsequence.” Here he has gotten a just
advantage; for I should have said, if it be an agent it worketh, not it
can work. But it is an advantage which profiteth little to his cause.
For if I repeat my argument again in this manner: that which is an
agent, worketh; that which worketh, wanteth nothing requisite to produce
the action or the effect it produceth, and consequently is thereof a
sufficient cause; and if a sufficient cause, then also a necessary
cause: his answer will be nothing to the purpose. For whereas to these
words, ‘that which worketh, wanteth nothing requisite to produce the
action or the effect it produceth,’ he answereth, “it is true, but there
may want much to produce that which was intended”, it is not contrary to
any thing that I have said. For I never maintained, that whatsoever a
man intendeth, is necessarily performed; but this, whatsoever a man
performeth, is necessarily performed, and what he intendeth, necessarily
intended, and that from causes antecedent. And therefore to say, as he
doth, that the cause is sufficient to do what it doth, but not always
sufficient to do what a man should or would do, is to say the same that
I do. For I say not, that the cause that bringeth forth a monster, is
sufficient to bring forth a man; but that every cause is sufficient to
produce only the effect it produceth; and if sufficient, then also
necessary.

(_b_) “‘And if sufficient, then also necessary’. Stay there; by his
leave, there is no necessary connexion between sufficiency and
efficiency; otherwise God himself should not be all-sufficient.”
All-sufficiency signifieth no more, when it is attributed to God, than
omnipotence; and omnipotence signifieth no more, than the power to do
all things that he will. But to the production of any thing that is
produced, the will of God is as requisite as the rest of his power and
sufficiency. And consequently, his all-sufficiency signifieth not a
sufficiency or power to do those things he will not. But he will deal,
he says, so favourably with me, as to grant me all this, which I labour,
he saith, so much in vain to prove: and adds, (_c_) “But all this will
not advantage his cause the black of a bean; for still it amounts but to
an hypothetical necessity”. If it prove no more, it proves no necessity
at all; for by hypothetical necessity he means the necessity of this
proposition, _the effect is, then when it is_; whereas necessity is only
said truly of somewhat in future. For _necessary_ is that which cannot
possibly be otherwise; and _possibility_ is always understood of some
future time. But seeing he granteth so favourably that sufficient causes
are necessary causes, I shall easily conclude from it, that whatsoever
those causes do cause, are necessary antecedently. For if the necessity
of the thing produced, when produced, be in the same instant of time
with the existence of its immediate cause; then also that immediate
cause was in the same instant with the cause by which it was immediately
produced; the same may be said of the cause of this cause, and so
backward eternally. From whence it will follow, that all the connexion
of the causes of any effect from the beginning of the world, were
altogether existent in one and the same instant; and consequently, all
the time from the beginning of the world, or from eternity to this day,
is but one instant, or a _nunc stans_; which he knows by this time is
not so.

                               NO. XXXVI.

_T. H._ And thus you see how the inconveniences, which he objecteth must
follow upon the holding of necessity, are avoided, and the necessity
itself demonstratively proved. To which I could add, if I thought it
good logic, the inconvenience of denying necessity; as that it destroys
both the decrees and prescience of God Almighty. For whatsoever God hath
purposed to bring to pass by man as an instrument, or foreseeth shall
come to pass, a man, if he have liberty, such as he affirmeth from
necessitation, might frustrate and make not to come to pass: and God
should either not foreknow it and not decree it, or he should foreknow
such things shall be as shall never be, and decree that which shall
never come to pass.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Thus he hath laboured in vain to satisfy my reasons, and to
prove his own assertion. But for demonstration, there is nothing like it
among his arguments. Now he saith, (_a_) he could add other arguments,
if he thought it good logic. There is no impediment in logic, why a man
may not press his adversary with those absurdities which flow from his
opinion; _argumentum ducens ad impossibile_ or _ad absurdum_, is a good
form of reasoning. But there is another reason of his forbearance,
though he be loath to express it. _Hæret lateri læthalis arundo._ The
arguments drawn from the attributes of God do stick so close in the
sides of his cause, that he hath no mind to treat of that subject. By
the way, take notice of his own confession, that ‘he could add other
reasons, if he thought it good logic’. If it were predetermined in the
outward causes, that he must make this very defence and no other, how
could it be in his power to add or subtract any thing: just as if a
blind man should say in earnest, _I could see if I had mine eyes_? Truth
often breaks out whilst men seek to smother it. (_b_) But let us view
his argument: ‘if a man have liberty from necessitation, he may
frustrate the decrees of God, and make his prescience false’. First, for
the decrees of God, this is his decree that man should be a free agent;
if he did consider God as a most simple act, without priority or
posteriority of time, or any composition; he would not conceive of his
decrees, as of the laws of the Medes and Persians, long since enacted
and passed before we were born, but as coexistent with ourselves, and
with the acts which we do by virtue of those decrees. Decrees and
attributes are but notions to help the weakness of our understanding to
conceive of God. The decrees of God are God himself, and therefore
justly said to be before the foundation of the world was laid: and yet
coexistent with ourselves, because of the infinite and eternal being of
God. The sum is this, the decree of God, or God himself eternally,
constitutes or ordains all effects which come to pass in time, according
to the distinct natures or capacities of his creatures. An eternal
ordination is neither past nor to come, but always present. So free
actions do proceed as well from the eternal decree of God, as necessary;
and from that order which he hath set in the world.

“As the decree of God is eternal, so is his knowledge. And therefore to
speak truly and properly, there is neither fore-knowledge nor
after-knowledge in him. The knowledge of God comprehends all times in a
point, by reason of the eminence and virtue of its infinite perfection.
And yet I confess, that this is called fore-knowledge in respect of us.
But this fore-knowledge doth produce no absolute necessity. Things are
not therefore, because they are foreknown; but therefore they are
foreknown, because they shall come to pass. If any thing should come to
pass otherwise than it doth, yet God’s knowledge could not be irritated
by it; for then he did not know that it should come to pass, as now it
doth. Because every knowledge of vision necessarily presupposeth its
object, God did know that Judas should betray Christ; but Judas was not
necessitated to be a traitor by God’s knowledge. If Judas had not
betrayed Christ, then God had not fore-known that Judas should betray
him. The case is this: a watchman standing on the steeple’s-top, as it
is the use in Germany, gives notice to them below, who see no such
things, that company are coming, and how many; his prediction is most
certain, for he sees them. What a vain correction were it for one below
to say, what if they did not come, then a certain prediction may fail.
It may be urged, that there is a difference between these two cases. In
this case, the coming is present to the watchman; but that which God
fore-knows, is future. God knows what shall be; the watchman only knows
what is. I answer, that this makes no difference at all in the case, by
reason of that disparity which is between God’s knowledge and ours. As
that coming is present to the watchman, which is future to them who are
below: so all those things which are future to us, are present to God,
because his infinite and eternal knowledge doth reach to the future
being of all agents and events. Thus much is plainly acknowledged by T.
H. No. XI: that ‘fore-knowledge is knowledge, and knowledge depends on
the existence of the things known, and not they on it’. To conclude, the
prescience of God doth not make things more necessary than the
production of the things themselves; but if the agents were free agents,
the production of the things doth not make the events to be absolutely
necessary, but only upon supposition that the causes were so determined.
God’s prescience proveth a necessity of infallibility, but not of
antecedent extrinsical determination to one. If any event should not
come to pass, God did never foreknow that it would come to pass. For
every knowledge necessarily presupposeth its object.

              ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE ANSWER TO NO. XXXVI.

(_a_) “‘He could add’, he saith, ‘other arguments, if he thought it good
logic,’ &c. There is no impediment in logic, why a man may not press his
adversary with those absurdities which flow from his opinion.” Here he
misrecites my words; which are, ‘I could add, if I thought it good
logic, the inconvenience of denying necessity; as that it destroys both
the decrees and prescience of God Almighty’. But he makes me say I could
add other arguments; then infers, that there is no impediment in logic,
why a man may not press his adversary with the absurdities that flow
from his opinion, because _argumentum ducens ad impossibile_ is a good
form of reasoning; making no difference between _absurdities_, which are
impossibilities, and _inconveniences_, which are not only possible but
frequent. And though it be a good form of reasoning to argue from
absurdities, yet it is no good form of reasoning to argue from
inconveniences; for inconvenience may stand well enough with truth.

(_b_) “But let us view his argument: ‘If a man have liberty from
necessitation, he may frustrate the decrees of God, and make his
prescience false’. This is his decree, that man should be a free agent.
If he did consider God as a most simple act, without priority or
posteriority of time, or any composition, he would not conceive of his
decrees as long since enacted, but as coexistent with ourselves”. Here
again he would have me conceive eternity to be _nunc stans_, that is, an
instant of time, and that instant of time to be God; which neither he
nor I can conceive, nor can without impiety say, as he doth here, that
the decrees of God are God. In which consisteth all the rest of his
answer to this Number, saving that he putteth in sometimes, that “the
foreknowledge of God produceth not necessity”, which is granted him; but
that anything can be foreknown which shall not necessarily come to pass,
which was not granted, he proveth no otherwise than by his assertion,
“that every instant of time is God”; which is denied him.

                              NO. XXXVII.

_T. H._ This is all that hath come into my mind touching this question,
since I last considered it. And I humbly beseech your Lordship to
communicate it only to J. D. And so praying God to prosper your Lordship
in all your designs, I take leave, and am, my most noble and obliging
Lord,

                                      Your most humble servant,
                                                               T. H.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “He is very careful to have this discourse kept secret, as
appears in this section, and in the XIVth and XVth sections. If his
answer had been kept private, I had saved the labour of a reply. But
hearing that it was communicated, I thought myself obliged to vindicate
both the truth and myself. I do not blame him to be cautious; for in
truth, this assertion is of desperate consequence, and destructive to
piety, policy, and morality. (_a_) If he had desired to have it kept
secret, the way had been to have kept it secret himself. It will not
suffice to say, as No. XIV, that ‘truth is truth’: This is the common
plea of all men. Neither is it sufficient for him to say, as No. XV,
that ‘it was desired by me’, long before that he had discovered his
opinion by word of mouth. And my desire was to let some of my noble
friends see the weakness of his grounds, and the pernicious consequences
of that opinion. (_b_) But if he think that this ventilation of the
question between us two may do hurt, truly I hope not. The edge of his
discourse is so abated, that it cannot easily hurt any rational man, who
is not too much possessed with prejudice.”

             ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE ANSWER TO NO. XXXVII.

In this place I said nothing, but that I would have my Lord of Newcastle
to communicate it only to the Bishop. And in his answer he says, (_a_)
“if I had desired to have it kept secret, the way had been to have kept
it secret myself”. My desire was, it should not be communicated by my
Lord of Newcastle to all men indifferently. But I barred not myself from
showing it privately to my friends; though to publish it was never my
intention, till now provoked by the uncivil triumphing of the Bishop in
his own errors to my disadvantage.

(_b_) “But if he think that this ventilation of the question may do
hurt, truly I hope not. The edge of his discourse is so abated, that it
cannot easily hurt any rational man, who is not too much possessed with
prejudice.” It is confidently said; but not very pertinently to the hurt
I thought might proceed from a discourse of this nature. For I never
thought it could do hurt to a rational man, but only to such men as
cannot reason in those points which are of difficult contemplation. For
a rational man will say with himself, _they whom God will bring to a
blessed and happy end, those he will put into an humble, pious, and
righteous way; and of those whom he will destroy, he will harden the
hearts_: and thereupon examining himself whether he be in such a way or
not, the examination itself would, if elected, be a necessary cause of
working out his salvation with fear and trembling. But the men who I
thought might take hurt thereby, are such as reason erroneously, saying
with themselves, _if I shall be saved, I shall be saved whether I walk
uprightly or no_: and consequently thereunto, shall behave themselves
negligently, and pursue the pleasant way of the sins they are in love
with. Which inconvenience is not abated by this discourse of the Bishop;
because they understand not the grounds he goeth on, of _nunc stans_,
_motus primo primi_, _elicit acts_, _imperate acts_, and a great many
other such unintelligible words.

                              NO. XXXVIII.

_T. H._ Postscript. Arguments seldom work on men of wit and learning,
when they have once engaged themselves in a contrary opinion. If
anything do it, it is the shewing of them the causes of their errors,
which is this. Pious men attribute to God Almighty, for honour sake,
whatsoever they see is honourable in the world, as seeing, hearing,
willing, knowing, justice, wisdom, &c.: but deny him such poor things as
eyes, ears, brains, and other organs, without which we worms neither
have nor can conceive such faculties to be: and so far they do well. But
when they dispute of God’s actions philosophically, then they consider
them again as if he had such faculties, and in that manner as we have
them. This is not well; and thence it is they fall into so many
difficulties. We ought not to dispute of God’s nature; he is no fit
subject of our philosophy. True religion consisteth in obedience to
Christ’s lieutenants, and in giving God such honour, both in attributes
and actions, as they in their several lieutenancies shall ordain.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s reply.]

_J. D._ “Though sophistical captions do seldom work on men of wit and
learning, because _by constant use they have their senses exercised to
discern both good and evil_ (Heb. v. 14), yet (_a_) solid and
substantial reasons work sooner upon them than upon weaker judgments.
The more exact the balance is, the sooner it discovers the real weight
that is put into it; especially if the proofs be proposed without
passion or opposition. Let sophisters and seditious orators apply
themselves to the many-headed multitude, because they despair of success
with men of wit and learning. Those whose gold is true, are not afraid
to have it tried by the touch. Since the former way hath not succeeded,
T. H. hath another to shew as the causes of our errors, which he hopes
will prove more successful. When he sees he can do no good by sight, he
seeks to circumvent us under colour of courtesy: _Fistula dulce canit,
volucrem dum decipit auceps_. As they who behold themselves in a glass,
take the right hand for the left, and the left for the right (T. H.
knows the comparison); so we take our own errors to be truths, and other
men’s truths to be errors, (_b_) If we be in an error in this, it is
such an error as we sucked from nature itself, such an error as is
confirmed in us by reason and experience, such an error as God himself
in his sacred Word hath revealed, such an error as the Fathers and
Doctors of the Church in all ages have delivered, such an error wherein
we have the concurrence of all the best philosophers, both natural and
moral, such an error as bringeth to God the glory of justice, and
wisdom, and goodness, and truth, such an error as renders men more
devout, more pious, more industrious, more humble, more penitent for
their sins. Would he have us resign up all these advantages, to dance
blindfold after his pipe? No, he persuades us too much to our loss. But
let us see what is the imaginary cause of our imaginary error. Forsooth,
because ‘we attribute to God whatsoever is honourable in the world, as
seeing, hearing, willing, knowing, justice, wisdom; but deny him such
poor things as eyes, ears, brains’; and so far, he saith ‘we do well.’
He hath reason, for since we are not able to conceive of God as he is,
the readiest way we have, is by removing all that imperfection from God,
which is in the creatures; so we call him infinite, immortal,
independent: or by attributing to him all those perfections which are in
the creatures, after a most eminent manner; so we call him best,
greatest, most wise, most just, most holy. (_c_) But saith he, ‘When
they dispute of God’s actions philosophically, then they consider them
again, as if he had such faculties, and in that manner as we have them’.

“And is this the cause of our error? That were strange indeed; for they
who dispute philosophically of God, do neither ascribe faculties to him
in that manner that we have them, nor yet do they attribute any proper
faculties at all to God. God’s understanding and his will is his very
essence, which, for the eminency of its infinite perfection, doth
perform all those things alone in a most transcendant manner, which
reasonable creatures do perform imperfectly by distinct faculties. Thus
to dispute of God with modesty and reverence, and to clear the Deity
from the imputation of tyranny, injustice, and dissimulation, which none
do throw upon God with more presumption than those who are the patrons
of absolute necessity, is both comely and Christian.

“It is not the desire to discover the original of a supposed error,
which draws them ordinarily into these exclamations against those who
dispute of the Deity. For some of themselves dare anatomize God, and
publish his eternal decrees with as much confidence, as if they had been
all their lives of his cabinet council. But it is for fear lest those
pernicious consequences which flow from that doctrine essentially, and
reflect in so high a degree upon the supreme goodness, should be laid
open to the view of the world; just as the Turks do first establish a
false religion of their own devising, and then forbid all men upon pain
of death to dispute upon religion; or as the priests of Moloch, the
abomination of the Ammonites, did make a noise with their timbrels all
the while the poor infants were passing through the fire in Tophet, to
keep their pitiful cries from the ears of their parents. So (_d_) they
make a noise with their declamations against those who dare dispute of
the nature of God, that is, who dare set forth his justice, and his
goodness, and his truth, and his philanthropy, only to deaf the ears and
dim the eyes of the Christian world, lest they should hear the
lamentable ejulations and howlings, or see that rueful spectacle of
millions of souls tormented for evermore (_e_) in the flames of the true
Tophet, that is, hell, only for that which, according to T. H.’s
doctrine, was never in their power to shun, but which they were ordered
and inevitably necessitated to do, only to express the omnipotence and
dominion, and to satisfy the pleasure of Him, who is in truth the Father
of all mercies, and the God of all consolation. (_f_) _This is life
eternal_ (saith our Saviour), _to know the only true God, and Jesus
Christ whom he hath sent_ (John xvii. 3.). _Pure religion, and undefiled
before God and the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows
in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world_,
saith St. James (James i. 27.). _Fear God and keep his commandments; for
this is the whole duty of man_, saith Solomon (Eccles. xii. 13.). But T.
H. hath found out a more compendious way to heaven: ‘True religion’,
saith he, ‘consisteth in obedience to Christ’s lieutenants, and giving
God such honour, both in attributes and actions, as they in their
several lieutenancies shall ordain’. That is to say, _be of the religion
of every Christian country where you come_. To make the civil magistrate
to be Christ’s lieutenant upon earth, for matters of religion, and to
make him to be supreme judge in all controversies, whom all must obey,
is a doctrine so strange, and such an uncouth phrase to Christian ears,
that I should have missed his meaning, but that I consulted with his
book, _De Cive_, c. XV. sect. 16, and c. XVII. sect. 28. What if the
magistrate shall be no Christian himself? What if he shall command
contrary to the law of God or nature? _Must we obey him rather than
God?_ (Acts iv. 19.) Is the civil magistrate become now the only ground
and pillar of truth? I demand then, why T. H. is of a different mind
from his sovereign, and from the laws of the land, concerning the
attributes of God and his decrees? This is a new paradox, and concerns
not this question of liberty and necessity. Wherefore I forbear to
prosecute it further, and so conclude my reply with the words of the
Christian poet,

                 Jussum est Cæsaris ore Galieni,
                 Quod princeps colit ut colamus omnes.
                 Æternum colo Principem, dierum
                 Factorem, Dominumque Galieni.[A]

-----

Footnote A:

  Prudentius. περι στεφανων. Hymn. vi.

-----

     ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE ANSWER TO THE POSTSCRIPT NO. XXXVIII.

He taketh it ill that I say that arguments do seldom work on men of wit
and learning, when they have once engaged themselves in a contrary
opinion. Nevertheless it is not only certain by experience, but also
there is reason for it, and that grounded upon the natural disposition
of mankind. For it is natural to all men to defend those opinions, which
they have once publicly engaged themselves to maintain; because to have
that detected for error, which they have publicly maintained for truth,
is never without some dishonour, more or less; and to find in themselves
that they have spent a great deal of time and labour in deceiving
themselves, is so uncomfortable a thing, as it is no wonder if they
employ their wit and learning, if they have any, to make good their
errors. And, therefore, where he saith, (_a_) “solid and substantial
reasons work sooner upon them, than upon weaker judgments; and that the
more exact the balance is, the sooner it discovers the real weight that
is put into it”: I confess, the more solid a man’s wit is, the better
will solid reasons work upon him. But if he add to it that which he
calls learning, that is to say, much reading of other men’s doctrines
without weighing them with his own thoughts, then their judgments become
weaker, and the balance less exact. And whereas he saith, “that they
whose gold is true, are not afraid to have it tried by the touch”; he
speaketh as if I had been afraid to have my doctrine tried by the touch
of men of wit and learning; wherein he is not much mistaken, meaning by
men of learning (as I said before) such as had read other men, but not
themselves. For by reading others, men commonly obstruct the way to
their own exact and natural judgment, and use their wit both to deceive
themselves with fallacies, and to requite those, who endeavour at their
own entreaty to instruct them, with revilings.

(_b_) “If we be in an error, it is such an error as is sucked from
nature; as is confirmed by reason, by experience, and by Scripture; as
the Fathers and Doctors of the Church of all ages have delivered; an
error, wherein we have the concurrence of all the best philosophers, an
error that bringeth to God the glory of justice, &c.; that renders men
more devout, more pious, more humble, more industrious, more penitent
for their sins.” All this is but said; and what heretofore hath been
offered in proof for it, hath been sufficiently refuted, and the
contrary proved; namely, that it is an error contrary to the nature of
the will; repugnant to reason and experience; repugnant to the
Scripture; repugnant to the doctrine of St. Paul, (and ’tis pity the
Fathers and Doctors of the Church have not followed St. Paul therein);
an error not maintained by the best philosophers, (for they are not the
best philosophers, which the Bishop thinketh so); an error that taketh
from God the glory of his prescience, nor bringeth to him the glory of
his other attributes; an error that maketh men, by imagining they can
repent when they will, neglect their duties; and that maketh men
unthankful for God’s graces, by thinking them to proceed from the
natural ability of their own will.

(_c_) “‘But,’ saith he, ‘when they dispute of God’s actions
philosophically, then they consider them again as if he had such
faculties, and in such manner as we have them.’ And is this the cause of
our error? That were strange indeed; for they who dispute
philosophically of God, do neither ascribe faculties to him, in that
manner that we have them, nor yet do they attribute any proper faculties
at all to God. God’s understanding and his will is his very essence,
&c.” Methinks he should have known at these years, that to dispute
philosophically is to dispute by natural reason, and from principles
evident by the light of nature, and to dispute of the faculties and
proprieties of the subject whereof they treat. It is therefore
unskilfully said by him, that they who dispute philosophically of God,
ascribe unto him no proper faculties. If no proper faculties, I would
fain know of him what improper faculties he ascribes to God. I guess he
will make the understanding and the will, and his other attributes, to
be in God improper faculties, because he cannot properly call them
faculties; that is to say, he knows not how to make it good that they
are faculties, and yet he will have these words, “God’s understanding
and his will are his very essence”, to pass for an axiom of philosophy.
And whereas I had said, we ought not to dispute of God’s nature, and
that He is no fit subject of our philosophy, he denies it not, but says
I say it.

(_d_) “With a purpose to make a noise with declaiming against those who
dare dispute of the nature of God, that is, who dare set forth his
justice and his goodness, &c.” The Bishop will have much ado to make
good, that to dispute of the nature of God, is all one with setting
forth his justice and his goodness. He taketh no notice of these words
of mine, ‘pious men attribute to God Almighty for honour’s sake,
whatsoever they see is honourable in the world’; and yet this is setting
forth God’s justice, goodness, &c, without disputing of God’s nature.

(_e_) “In the flames of the true Tophet, that is hell.” The true Tophet
was a place not far from the walls of Jerusalem, and consequently on the
earth. I cannot imagine what he will say to this in his answer to my
_Leviathan_, if there he find the same, unless he say, that in this
place by the _true_ Tophet, he meant a _not true_ Tophet.

(_f_) “_This is life eternal_ (saith our Saviour) _to know the only true
God, and Jesus Christ_, &c.” This which followeth to the end of his
answer and of the book, is a reprehension of me, for saying that ‘true
religion consisteth in obedience to Christ’s lieutenants’. If it be
lawful for Christians to institute amongst themselves a commonwealth and
magistrates, whereby they may be able to live in peace one with another,
and unite themselves in defence against a foreign enemy; it will
certainly be necessary to make to themselves some supreme judge in all
controversies, to whom they ought all to give obedience. And this is no
such strange doctrine, nor so uncouth a phrase to Christian ears, as the
Bishop makes it, whatsoever it be to them that would make themselves
judges of the Supreme Judge himself. No; but, saith he, Christ is the
Supreme Judge, and we are not to obey men rather than God. Is there any
Christian man that does not acknowledge that we are to be judged by
Christ, or that we ought not to obey him rather than any man that shall
be his lieutenant upon earth? The question therefore is, not of who is
to be obeyed, but of what be his commands. If the Scripture contain his
commands, then may every Christian know by them what they are. And what
has the Bishop to do with what God says to me when I read them, more
than I have to do with what God says to him when he reads them, unless
he have authority given him by him whom Christ hath constituted his
lieutenant? This lieutenant upon earth, I say, is the supreme civil
magistrate, to whom belongeth the care and charge of seeing that no
doctrine may be taught the people, but such as may consist with the
general peace of them all, and with the obedience that is due to the
civil sovereign. In whom would the Bishop have the authority reside of
prohibiting seditious opinions, when they are taught (as they are often)
in divinity books and from the pulpit? I could hardly guess, but that I
remember that there have been books written to entitle the bishops to a
_divine right_, underived from the civil sovereign. But because he
maketh it so heinous a matter, that the supreme civil magistrate should
be Christ’s lieutenant upon earth, let us suppose that a bishop, or a
synod of bishops, should be set up (which I hope never shall) for our
civil sovereign; then that which he objecteth here, I could object in
the same words against himself. For I could say in his own words, _This
is life eternal, to know the only true God, and Jesus Christ_ (John
xvii. 3.). _Pure religion, and undefiled before God is this, to visit
the fatherless_, &c. (James i. 27.) _Fear God and keep his commandments_
(Eccles. xii. 13.). But the Bishop hath found a more compendious way to
heaven, namely, that true religion consisteth in obedience to Christ’s
lieutenants; that is (now by supposition), to the bishops. That is to
say, that every Christian of what nation soever, coming into the country
which the bishops govern, should be of their religion. He would make the
civil magistrate to be Christ’s lieutenant upon earth for matters of
religion, and supreme judge in all controversies, and say they ought to
be obeyed by all; how strange soever and uncouth it seem to him now, the
sovereignty being in others. And I may say to him, what if the
magistrate himself (I mean by supposition the bishops) should be wicked
men; what if they should command as much contrary to the law of God or
nature, as ever any Christian king did, (which is very possible); must
we obey them rather than God? Is the civil magistrate become now the
only ground and pillar of truth? No:

                  Synedri jussum est voce episcoporum,
                  Ipsum quod colit ut colamus omnes.
                  Æternum colo Principem, dierum
                  Factorem, Dominumque episcoporum.

And thus the Bishop may see, there is little difference between his Ode
and my Parode to it; and that both of them are of equal force to
conclude nothing.

The Bishop knows that the kings of England, since the time of Henry
VIII, have been declared by act of Parliament supreme governors of the
Church of England, in all causes both civil and ecclesiastical, that is
to say, in all matters both ecclesiastical and civil, and consequently
of this Church supreme head on earth; though perhaps he will not allow
that name of _head_. I should wonder therefore, whom the Bishop would
have to be Christ’s lieutenant here in England for matters of religion,
if not the supreme governor and head of the Church of England, whether
man or woman whosoever he be, that hath the sovereign power, but that I
know he challenges it to the Bishops, and thinks that King Henry VIII.
took the ecclesiastical power away from the Pope, to settle it not in
himself, but them. But he ought to have known, that what jurisdiction,
or power of ordaining ministers, the Popes had here in the time of the
king’s predecessors till Henry VIII, they derived it all from the king’s
power, though they did not acknowledge it; and the kings connived at it,
either not knowing their own right, or not daring to challenge it; till
such time as the behaviour of the Roman clergy had undeceived the
people, which otherwise would have sided with them. Nor was it unlawful
for the king to take from them the authority he had given them, as being
Pope enough in his own kingdom without depending on a foreign one: nor
is it to be called schism, unless it be schism also in the head of a
family to discharge, as often as he shall see cause, the school-masters
he entertaineth to teach his children. If the Bishop and Dr. Hammond,
when they did write in the defence of the Church of England against
imputation of schism, quitting their own pretences of jurisdiction and
_jus divinum_, had gone upon these principles of mine, they had not been
so shrewdly handled as they have been, by an English Papist that wrote
against them.

And now I have done answering to his arguments, I shall here, in the end
of all, take that liberty of censuring his whole book, which he hath
taken in the beginning, of censuring mine. ‘I have’, saith he, (No. I.)
‘perused T. H.’s answers, considered his reasons, and conclude he hath
missed and mislaid the question; that his answers are evasions, that his
arguments are paralogisms, and that the opinion of absolute and
universal necessity is but a result of some groundless and ill chosen
principles.’ And now it is my turn to censure. And first, for the
strength of his discourse and knowledge of the point in question, I
think it much inferior to that which might have been written by any man
living, that had no other learning besides the ability to write his
mind; but as well perhaps as the same man would have done it if to the
ability of writing his mind he had added the study of School-divinity.
Secondly, for the manners of it, (for to a public writing there
belongeth good manners), it consisteth in railing and exclaiming and
scurrilous jesting, with now and then an unclean and mean instance. And
lastly, for his elocution, the virtue whereof lieth not in the flux of
words, but in perspicuity, it is the same language with that of the
kingdom of darkness. One shall find in it, especially where he should
speak most closely to the question, such words as these: divided sense,
compounded sense, hypothetical necessity, liberty of exercise, liberty
of specification, liberty of contradiction, liberty of contrariety,
knowledge of approbation, practical knowledge, general influence,
special influence, instinct, qualities infused, efficacious election,
moral efficacy, moral motion, metaphorical motion, _practice practicum_,
_motus primo primi_, _actus eliciti_, _actus imperati_, permissive will,
consequent will, negative obduration, deficient cause, simple act, _nunc
stans_; and other like words of nonsense divided: besides many
propositions such as these: the will is the mistress of human actions,
the understanding is her counsellor, the will chooseth, the will
willeth, the will suspends its own act, the understanding understandeth,
(I wonder how he missed saying, the understanding suspendeth its own
act,) the will applies the understanding to deliberate; the will
requires of the understanding a review; the will determines itself; a
change may be willed without changing of the will; man concurs with God
in causing his own will; the will causeth willing; motives determine the
will not naturally, but morally; the same action may be both future and
not future; God is not just but justice, not eternal but eternity;
eternity is _nunc stans_; eternity is an infinite point which
comprehendeth all time, not formally, but eminently; all eternity is
co-existent with to-day, and the same co-existent with to-morrow: and
many other like speeches of nonsense compounded, which the truth can
never stand in need of. Perhaps the Bishop will say, these terms and
phrases are intelligible enough; for he hath said in his reply to No.
XXIV, that his opinion is demonstrable in reason, though he be not able
to comprehend, how it consisteth together with God’s eternal prescience;
and though it exceed his weak capacity, yet he ought to adhere to that
truth which is manifest. So that to him that truth is manifest, and
demonstrable by reason, which is beyond his capacity; so that words
beyond capacity are with him intelligible enough.

But the reader is to be judge of that. I could add many other passages
that discover, both his little logic, as taking the insignificant words
above recited, for terms of art; and his no philosophy in distinguishing
between moral and natural motion, and by calling some motions
metaphorical, and by his blunders at the causes of sight and of the
descent of heavy bodies, and his talk of the inclination of the
load-stone, and divers other places in his book.

But to make an end, I shall briefly draw up the sum of what we have both
said. That which I have maintained is, that no man hath his future will
in his own present power. That it may be changed by others, and by the
change of things without him; and when it is changed, it is not changed
nor determined to any thing by itself; and that when it is undetermined,
it is no will; because every one that willeth, willeth something in
particular. That deliberation is common to men with beasts, as being
alternate appetite, and not ratiocination; and the last act or appetite
therein, and which is immediately followed by the action, is the only
will that can be taken notice of by others, and which only maketh an
action in public judgment voluntary. That to be free is no more than to
do if a man will, and if he will to forbear; and consequently that this
freedom is the freedom of the man, and not of the will. That the will is
not free, but subject to change by the operation of external causes.
That all external causes depend necessarily on the first eternal cause,
God Almighty, who worketh in us both to will and to do, by the mediation
of second causes. That seeing neither man nor any thing else can work
upon itself, it is impossible that any man in the framing of his own
will should concur with God, either as an actor or as an instrument.
That there is nothing brought to pass by fortune as by a cause, nor any
thing without a cause, or concurrence of causes, sufficient to bring it
so to pass; and that every such cause, and their concurrence, do proceed
from the providence, good pleasure, and working of God; and
consequently, though I do with others call many events _contingent_, and
say they _happen_, yet because they had every of them their several
sufficient causes, and those causes again their former causes, I say
they _happen_ necessarily. And though we perceive not what they are, yet
there are of the most contingent events as necessary causes as of those
events whose causes we perceive; or else they could not possibly be
foreknown, as they are by him that foreknoweth all things. On the
contrary, the Bishop maintaineth: that the will is free from
necessitation; and in order thereto that 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, though it be true
that spontaneity and determination to one may consist together. That the
will determineth itself, and that external things, when they change the
will, do work upon it not naturally, but morally, not by natural motion,
but by moral and metaphorical motion. That when the will is determined
naturally, it is not by God’s general influence, whereon depend all
second causes, but by special influence, God concurring and pouring
something into the will. That the will when it suspends not its act,
makes the act necessary; but because it may suspend and not assent, it
is not absolutely necessary. That sinful acts proceed not from God’s
will, but are willed by him by a _permissive_ will, not an _operative_
will, and that he hardeneth the heart of man by a negative obduration.
That man’s will is in his own power, but his _motus primo primi_ not in
his own power, nor necessary save only by a hypothetical necessity. That
the will to change, is not always a change of will. That not all things
which are produced, are produced from _sufficient_, but some things from
_deficient_ causes. That if the power of the will be present _in actu
primo_, then there is nothing wanting to the production of the effect.
That a cause may be sufficient for the production of an effect, though
it want something necessary to the production thereof; because the will
may be wanting. That a necessary cause doth not always necessarily
produce its effect, but only then when the effect is necessarily
produced. He proveth also, that the will is free, by that universal
notion which the world hath of election: for when of the six Electors
the votes are divided equally, the King of Bohemia hath a casting voice.
That the prescience of God supposeth no necessity of the future
existence of the things foreknown, because God is not eternal but
eternity, and eternity is a _standing now_, without succession of time;
and therefore God foresees all things intuitively by the presentiality
they have in _nunc stans_, which comprehendeth in it all time past,
present, and to come, not formally, but eminently and virtually. That
the will is free even then when it acteth, but that is in a compounded,
not in a divided sense. That to be made, and to be eternal, do consist
together, because God’s decrees are made, and are nevertheless eternal.
That the order, beauty, and perfection of the world doth require that in
the universe there should be agents of all sorts, some necessary, some
free, some contingent. That though it be true, that to-morrow it shall
rain or not rain, yet neither of them is true _determinate_. That the
doctrine of necessity is a blasphemous, desperate, and destructive
doctrine. That it were better to be an Atheist, than to hold it; and he
that maintaineth it, is fitter to be refuted with rods than with
arguments. And now whether this his doctrine or mine be the more
intelligible, more rational, or more conformable to God’s word, I leave
it to the judgment of the reader.

But whatsoever be the truth of the disputed question, the reader may
peradventure think I have not used the Bishop with that respect I ought,
or without disadvantage of my cause I might have done; for which I am to
make a short apology. A little before the last parliament of the late
king, when every man spake freely against the then present government, I
thought it worth my study to consider the grounds and consequences of
such behaviour, and whether it were conformable or contrary to reason
and to the Word of God. And after some time I did put in order and
publish my thoughts thereof, first in Latin, and then again the same in
English; where I endeavoured to prove both by reason and Scripture, that
they who have once submitted themselves to any sovereign governor,
either by express acknowledgment of his power, or by receiving
protection from his laws, are obliged to be true and faithful to him,
and to acknowledge no other supreme power but him in any matter or
question whatsoever, either civil or ecclesiastical. In which books of
mine, I pursued my subject without taking notice of any particular man
that held any opinion contrary to that which I then wrote; only in
general I maintained that the office of the clergy, in respect of the
supreme civil power, was not magisterial, but ministerial; and that
their teaching of the people was founded upon no other authority than
that of the civil sovereign; and all this without any word tending to
the disgrace either of episcopacy or of presbytery. Nevertheless I find
since, that divers of them, whereof the Bishop of Derry is one, have
taken offence especially at two things; one, that I make the supremacy
in matters of religion to reside in the civil sovereign; the other, that
being no clergyman, I deliver doctrines, and ground them upon words of
the Scripture, which doctrines they, being by profession divines, have
never taught. And in this their displeasure, divers of them in their
books and sermons, without answering any of my arguments, have not only
exclaimed against my doctrine, but reviled me, and endeavoured to make
me hateful for those things, for which (if they knew their own and the
public good) they ought to have given me thanks. There is also one of
them, that taking offence at me for blaming in part the discipline
instituted heretofore, and regulated by the authority of the Pope, in
the universities, not only ranks me amongst those men that would have
the revenue of the universities diminished, and says plainly I have no
religion, but also thinks me so simple and ignorant of the world as to
believe that our universities maintain Popery. And this is the author of
the book called _Vindiciæ Academiarum_. If either of the universities
had thought itself injured, I believe it could have authorised or
appointed some member of theirs, whereof there be many abler men than
he, to have made their vindication. But this Vindex, (as little dogs to
please their masters use to bark, in token of their sedulity,
indifferently at strangers, till they be rated off), unprovoked by me
hath fallen upon me without bidding. I have been publicly injured by
many of whom I took no notice, supposing that that humour would spend
itself; but seeing it last, and grow higher in this writing I now
answer, I thought it necessary at last to make of some of them, and
first of this Bishop, an example.

                             END OF VOL. V.

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                           Transcriber’s Note

There were two kinds of sidenote in this volumn. At the top of each
page, the section number, along with either “Animadversions upon the
Bishop’s reply” or “The Bishop’s Reply”, is repeated. The former have
been removed as they are redundant with the section title. The “Bishop’s
Reply” notes are positioned before each paragraph beginning “J. D” to
mark where the “Bishop’s” voice resumes.

The sidenote on p. 81 mistakenly referred to “Animadversions...” rather
than the expected “The Bishop’s reply.”

Other errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected,
and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the
original.

  5.11     to do what he will,[”]                         Added.

  10.13    O Israel, thy de[s]truction                    Restored.

  25.8     So God bless us.[”]                            Added.

  33.8     of the second causes.[”]                       Added.

  38.17    [t]hat one may take away an ell                Restored.

  62.25    between [l/d]uade distinctions cloven feet.    Restored
                                                          (probable).

  85.26    [“/‘]that wise men may do                      Replaced.

  85.27    actions,[”/’]                                  Replaced.

  85.33    [“/‘]that fools, children,                     Replaced.

  85.34    and elect,[”/’]                                Replaced.

  126.34   but his own justice better[.]                  Restored.

  137.3    would have him to will.[’]                     Added.

  142.1    [“]Wherefore T. H. is mightily mistaken        Added.

  145.1    Another is Genesis xix. 22[)]:                 Removed.

  151.14   that all consult[a]tions are vain.             Restored.

  155.33   for the public good[,/.]                       Replaced.

  185.7    when it is necess[s]ary                        Removed.

  229.23   _Quid hoc?_[”]                                 Added.

  310.17   choose a good one.[”]                          Added.

  316.30   and so the[ the] action be become              Removed.

  324.11   and if he[ ]means so                           Inserted.

  336.5    [“]But because his eyesight was weak           Added.

  405.28   was I to grow old!’[”]                         Added.

  425.6    forbear to act[”/’];                           Replaced.

  434.15   not too much possessed with prejudice.[”]      Added.

  437.24   such poor things as eyes, ears, brains[’]      Added.

  439.33   the religion of every Ch[r]istian country      Inserted.

  447.30   per[s]used T. H.’s answers                     Removed.

  454.9    whereof the[ the Bishop of Derry is one        Removed.


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