I

CAREFUL AND STRICT

ENQUIRY

INTO THE

MODERN PREVAILING NOTIONS

OP THAT

FREEDOM OF THE WILL,

WHICH IS SUPPOSED TO BE ESSENTIAL

TO

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VIRTUE ANLl AcEtfREWA

BY THE LATE REV. JONATHAN EDWARDS,

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PRESIDENT OF THE COLLEGE OF NEW JERSEY.

" It is not of him that rvilleth"-*- Rom. ix. 16.

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II

PREFACE*

TkM ANY find much fault with the calling pro- -^-"- fessing Christians, that differ one from a- nother in some matters of opinion, by distinct names; especially calling them by the names of particular men who have distinguished them- selves as maintainers and promoters of those o- pinions ; as the calling some professing Chris- tians Arminians from Arminus ; others Arians, from Arius ; others Socinians, from Socinus; and the like. They think it unjust in itself ; as it seems to suppose and suggest, that the persons marked out by these names, received those doc- trines which they entertain, out of regard to and reliance on those men after whom they are named ; as though they made them their rule ; in the same manner as the followers of Christ are called Christians, after his name, whom they regard and depend upon, as their great Head and Rule. Whereas, this is an unjust and ground- less imputation on those that go under the fore^ mentioned denominations. Thus (say they) there is not the least ground to suppose, that the chief Divines, who embrace the scheme of doctrine which is, by many, called Arminianism, believe it the more, because Arminius believed it ; and that there is no reason to think any other, than that they sincerely and impartially study the holy Scriptures, and enquire after the mind of Christ, with as much judgment and sincerity, as any of those that call them by a

iv Preface.

these names ; that they seek after truth, and are not careful whether they think exactly as Arminius did ; yea, that, in some things, they actually differ from him. This practice is also esteemed actually injurious on this account, that it is supposed naturally to lead the mul- titude to imagine the difference between per- sons thus named and others, to be greater than it is ; yea, as though it were so great, that they must be, as it were, another species of beings. And they object against it as arising from an un- charitable, narrow, contracted spirit: which, they say, commonly inclines persons to confine all that is good to themselves, and their own party, and to make a wide distinction between them- selves and others, and stigmatize those that dif- fer from them with odious names. They say, moreover, that the keeping up such a distinction of names has a direct tendency to uphold dis- tance and disaffection, and keep alive mutual hatred among Christians, who ought all to be united in friendship and charity ; however, they cannot, in all things, think alike.

I confess, these things are very plausible; and I will not deny, that there are some unhap- py consequences of this distinction of names, and that men's infirmities and evil dispositions often make an ill improvement of it. But yet, I humbly conceive, those objections are carried far beyond reason. The generality of mankind are disposed enough, and a great deal too much, to uncharitableness, and to be censorious and bit- ter towards those that differ from them in. re- ligious opinions ; which evil temper of mind

Preface. v

will take occasion to exert itself from many things in themselves innocent, useful, and ne- cessary. But yet, there is no necessity to sup- pose, that the thus distinguishing persons of different opinions by different names, arises mainly from an uncharitable spirit. It may arise from the disposition there is in mankind (whom God has distinguished with an ability and inclination for speech) to improve the be- nefit of language, in the proper use and design of names, given to things which they have often occasion to speak of, or signify their minds about ; which is to enable them to express their ideas with ease and expedition, without being incumbered with an obscure and difficult cir- cumlocution. And the thus distinguishing of persons of different opinions in religious matters may not imply, nor infer, any more than that there is a difference, and that the difference is such as we find we have often occasion to take notice of, and make mention of. That which we have frequent occasion to speak of (what- ever it be, that gives the occasion) this wants a name ; and it is always a defect in language in such cases, to be obliged to make use of a de- scription, instead of a name. Thus we have often occasion to speak of those who are the descendants of the ancient inhabitants of France, who are subjects or heads of the government of that land, and spake the language peculiar to it ; in distinction from the descendants of the inhabitants of Spain, who belonged to that community, and spake the language of that country. And therefore we find the great need

vi Preface,

of distinct names to signify these different sorts of people, and the great convenience of those distinguishing words, French and Spaniards ; by which the signification of our minds is quick and easy, and our speech is delivered from the burden of a continual reiteration of diffuse descriptions, with which it must other- wise be embarrassed.

That the difference of the opinions of those, who in their general scheme of divinity agree with these two noted men, Calvin and Jrminius, is a thing there is often occasion to speak of, is what the practice of the latter itself confesses ; who are often, in their discourses and writings taking notice of the supposed absurd and per- nicious opinions of the former sort. And there- fore the making use of different names in this case cannot reasonably be objected against, or condemned, as a thing which must come from so bad a cause as they assign. It is easy to be accounted for, without supposing it to arise from any other source, than the exigence and natural tendency of the state of things ; con- sidering the faculty and disposition God has given to mankind, to express things which they have frequent occasion to mention, by certain distinguishing names. It is an effect that is .similar to what we see arise, in innumerable cases which are parallel, where the cause is not at all blame- worthy.

Nevertheless, at first, I had thoughts of care- fully avoiding the use of the appellation Armi- nian in this Treatise. But I soon found I should be put to great difficulty by it ; and that

Preface* viir

my Discourse would be so incumbered with an often repeated circumlocution, instead of a name which would express the thing intended, as well and better, that I altered my purpose. And, therefore, I must ask the excuse of such as are apt to be offended with things of this na- ture, that I have so freely used the term Armi- nian in the following Discourse. I profess it to be without any design to stigmatize persons of any sort with a name of reproach, or at all to make them appear more odious. If, when I had occasion to speak of those Divines who are commonly called by this name, I had instead of styling them Arminians, called them these ?nen, as Dr. Whitby does Calvinistic Divines : it probably would not have been taken any better, or thought to shew a better temper, or more good manners. I have done as I would be done by, in this matter. However, the term Calvin- istic is, in these days, among most, a term of greater reproach than the term Arminian ; yet I should not take it at all amiss, to be called a Calvinist, for distinction's sake : I utterly dis- claim a dependence on Calvin, or believing the doctrines which I hold, because he believed and taught them ; and cannot justly be charged with believing in every thing just as he taught.

But, lest I should really be an occasion of in- jury to some person, I would here give notice, that though I generally speak of that doctrine concerning Free Will and Moral Agency, w7hich I oppose, as an Arminian doctrine ; yet, I would not be understood, as asserting, that every Di- vine or Author, whom I have occasion to men-

viii Preface,

tion as maintaining that doctrine, was proper- ly an Arminian^ or one of that sort which is commonly called by that name. Some of them went far beyond Arminians ; and I would by no means charge Arminians in general with all the

corrupt doctrine which these maintained.

Thus, for instance, it would be very injurious if I should rank Arminian Divines, in general, with such Authors as Mr Chubb, I doubt not many of them have some of his doctrines in ab- horrence ; though he agrees, for the most part, with Arminians, in his notion of the Freedom of the Will. And, on the other hand, though I suppose this notion to be a leading article in the Arminian scheme, that which, if pursued in its consequences, will truly infer, or naturally lead to all the rest ; yet I do not charge all that have held this doctrine, with being Arminians, For whatever may be the consequences of the doctrine really, yet some that hold this doctrine, may not own nor see these consequences; and it would be unjust, in many instances, to charge every Author with believing and maintain- ing all the real consequences of his avowed doc- trines. And I desire it may be particularly noted, that though I have occasion, in the fol- lowing Discourse, often to mention the Author of the book, entitled, An Essay on the Freedom of the Will, in God and the Creature, as holding that notion of Freedom of Will, which I oppose, yet I do not mean to call him an Arminian, however, in that doctrine he agrees with Armi- nians, and departs from the current and general opinion of Calvinists. If the Author of that

Preface. ix

Essay be the same as it is commonly ascribed to, he doubtless was not one that ought to bear that name. But however good a Divine he was in many respects, yet that particular Arminian doctrine which he maintained, is never the bet- ter for being held by such an one ; nor is there less need of opposing it on that account ; but rather is there the more need of it ; as it will be likely to have the more pernicious influence, for being taught by a Divine of his name and cha- racter; supposing the doctrine to be wrong, and in itself to be of an ill tendency.

I have nothing further to say by way of Pre- face, but only to bespeak the Reader's candour and calm attention to what I have written. The subject is of such importance as to demand at- tention, and the most thorough consideration. Of all kinds of knowledge that we can ever ob- tain, knowledge of God, and the knowledge of ourselves, are the most important. As religion is the great business for which we are created, and on which our happiness depends ; and as religion consists in an intercourse between our- selves and our Maker ; and so has its foundation in God's nature and ours, and in the relation that God and we stand in to each other ; there- fore a true knowledge of both must be needful, in order to true religion. But the knowledge of ourselves consists chiefly in right apprehen- sions concerning those two chief faculties of our nature, the understanding and will. Both are very important ; yet the science of the latter must be confessed to be of greatest moment ; inasmuch as all virtue and religion have their

x Pre/ate.

seat more immediately in the will, consisting more especially in right acts and habits of this faculty ; and the grand question about the Free- dom of the Will, is the main point that belongs to the science of the Will. Therefore, I say, the importance of the subject greatly demands the attention of Christians, and especially of Di- vines. But as to my manner of handling the subject, I will be far from presuming to say, that it is such as demands the attention of the Reader to what I have written. I am ready to own, that in this matter I depend on the Reader's courtesy* But only thus far I may have some colour for putting in a claim : that if the Reader be disposed to pass his censure on what I have written, I may be fully and patiently heard, and well attended to, before I am condemned. How- ever, this is what I would humbly ask of my Readers, together with the prayers of all sin- cere lovers of truth, that I may have much of that spirit which Christ promised his disciples, which guides into all truth ; and that the bles- sed and powerful influences of this spirit would make truth victorious in the world !

CONTENTS.

PART FIRST.

Wherein are explained various terms and things belonging

to the subject of the ensuing discourse.

SECT. I.— Concerning the Nature of the Will Page 1

Sect. IL — Concerning the Determination of the Will ; ■• 5

Sect. Ill — Concerning the meaning of the terms Necessity,

Impossibility, Inability, &c. and of Contingence 15

Sect. IV — Of the Distinction of Natural and Moral Neces- sity and Inability 24

Sect.V. — Concerning the Notion of Liberty, and of Moral Agency 32

PART SECOND.

Wherein it is considered, Whether there is, or can be, any such sort of Freedom of Will, as that wherein Ar- minians place the Essence of the Liberty of all Moral Agents j and whether any such thing ever was, or can be conceived of.

SECTION I — Shewing the manifest inconsistence of the Ar- minian Notion of Liberty of will, consisting in the Will's Self-determining Power 37

Sect. II. — Several supposed ways of evading the foregoing Reasoning considered 41

Sect. Ill — Whether any event whatsoever, and Volition in particular, can come to pass without a cause, of its existence... 48

Sect. IV — Whether Volition can arise without a Cause, through the Activity of the nature of the soul." 55

Sect. V — Shewing that if the things asserted in these Eva- sions should be supposed to be true, they are altogether im- pertinent, and cannot help the Cause of Arminian Liberty ; and how, this being the state of the case, Arminian Writers are obliged to talk inconsistently 60

Sect. VI — Concerning the Will's determining in things which are perfectly indifferent, in the view of the mind 65

Sect. VII. — Concerning the Notion of Liberty of Will consist- ing in Indifference 73

Sect. VIII — Concerning the supposed Liberty of the Will as opposite to all Necessity 85

Sect. IX.— Of the Connection of the Acts of the Will with " the Dictates of the Understanding , £0

b

CONTENTS.

Sect. X — Volition necessarily connected with the Influence of Motives. With particular observation of the great in- consistence of Mr Chubb's Assertions and Reasonings, a- bout the Freedom of the Will 98

Sect. XI — The Evidence of God's certain Foreknowledge

of the Volitions of Moral Agents 114

Sect. XII — God's certain Foreknowledge of the future Voli- tions of Moral Agents, inconsistent with such a Contingence of those Volitions, as is without allNecessity 138

And infers a Necessity of Volition, as much as an absolute Decree 157

Sect. XIII Whether we suppose the Volitions of Moral

Agents to be connected with any thing antecedent, or not, yet they must be necessary in such a sense as to overthrow Arminian Liberty 152

PART THIRD. Wherein is enquired, Whether any such Liberty of Will as Arminians hold, be necessary to Moral Agency, Vir- tue and Vice, Praise and Dispraise, &c.

SECTION I — God's Moral Excellency necessary, yet virtu- ous and praise-worthy 156

Sect. II — The Acts ot the Will of the Human Soul of Jesus Christ necessarily holy, yet virtuous, praise- worthy, re- wardable, &c ." 160

Sect. Ill — The Case of such as are given up of God to Sin, and of Fallen Man in general, proves Moral Necessity and Inability to be consistent with Blame-worthiness 177,

Sect. IV — Command and Obligation to Obedience, consistent with Moral Inability to obey... 185,

Sect. V. — That Sincerity of Desires and Endeavours, which is supposed to excuse in the non-performance of things in themselves good* particularly considered 197

Sect. VI. — Liberty of Indifference, not only not necessary to virtue, but utterly inconsistent with it ; and all, either vir- tuous or vicious habits or inclinations, inconsistent with Ar- minian Notions of Liberty and Moral Agency 206

Sect. VII — Arminian notions of Moral Agency inconsistent with all influence of motive and inducement, in either vir- tuous or vicious actions 215

PART FOURTH.

Wherein the chief grounds of the reasonings of Arminians, in support and defence of their notions of Liberty, Mo- ral Agency, &c. and against the opposite doctrine, are- considered.

Sect. I. — The essence of the virtue and vice of the disposi- tions of the heart, and Acts of the Will, lies not in their Causes, but their Nature 223

CONTENTS.

Sect. II. — The Falseness and Inconsistence of that Metaphy- sical Notion of Action and Agency, which seems to be gene- rally entertained by the Defenders of the forementioned no- tions of Liberty, Moral Agency, &c 230

Sect. III. — The reasons why some think it contrary to Com- mon Sense, to suppose things which are necessary, to be wor- thy of either praise or blame 239

Sect. IV. — It is agreeable to Common Sense, and the natural notions of mankind, to suppose Moral Necessity to be con- sistent with praise and blame, reward and punishment 246

Sect. V.— Concerning those objections, that this scheme of ne- cessity renders all means and endeavours for the avoiding of Sin, or the obtaining virtue and holiness, vain and to no pur- pose ; and that it makes men no more than mere machines, in affairs of morality and religion.... 256

Sect. VI — Concerning that Objection against the Doctrine which has been maintained, that it agrees with the Stoical Doctrine of Fate, and the opinion of Mr Hobbs 264

Sect. VII. — Concerning the necessity of the Divine Will 267

Sect. VIII — Some further Objections against the Moral Ne- cessity of God's volitions, considered 278

Sect. IX — Concerning that objection against the doctrine which has been maintained, that it makes God the Author of Sin .. 293

Sect. X — Concerning Sin's first entrance into the world 312

Sect. XI — Of a supposed inconsistence of these principles with God's Moral Character 314.

Sect. XII. — Of a supposed Tendency of these principles to

Atheism and Licentiousness 32(K

Sect. XIII — Concerning that objection against the Reasoning by which the Calvinistic Doctrine is supported, that it is metaphysical and abstruse 324.

CONCLUSION

What treatment this discourse may probably meet with from

some persons 332

Consequences concerning several Calvinistic Doctrines ; such as an universal, decisive Providence 333

The total depravity and eorruption of Man's nature 334.

Efficacious Grace 335

An universal and absolute Decree, and absolute, eternal, per- sonal Election 336 Particular 'Redemption 337 Perseverance of Saints 339 Concerning the treatment which Calvinistic Writers and Di- vines have met with 340 The Unhappiness of the Change lately in many Protestant

Countries The Boldness of some Writers 342

The excellent Wisdom appearing in the Holy Scriptures 343

ENQUIRY

INTO THE

FREEDOM OF THE WILL,

PART I.

Wherein are Explained and Stated various Terms and Things longing to the subject of the ensuing Discourse.

SECTION I.

Concerning the Nature of the Will.

JT may possibly be thought, that there is no great ■*- need of going about to define or describe the Will ; this word being generally as well understood as any other words we can use to explain it ; and so perhaps it would be, had not philosophers, metaphysicians, and po- lemic divines brought the matter into obscurity by the things they have said of it. But since it is so, I think it may be of some use, and will tend to the greater clearness in the following discourse, to say a few things concerning it.

And therefore I observe, that the Will (without any- metaphysical refining) is plainly That by which the mind chooses any thing. The faculty of the Will* is that fa- culty, or power, or principle of mind, by which it is ca- pable of choosing : an act of the Will is the same as an act of choosing or choice.

If any think it is a more perfect definition of the Will to say, that it is that by which the soul either chooses, or refuses ; I am content with it ; though I think that it is enough to say, it is that by which the soul chooses ;

B

2 The Nature of the Will. [Part I.

for in every act of Will whatsoever, the mind chooses one thing rather than another; it chooses something rather than the contrary, or rather than the want or non-existence of that thing. So in every act of refusal, the mind chooses the absence of the thing refused ; the positive and the negative are set before the mind for its choice, and it chooses the negative ; and the mind's taking its choice in that case is properly the act of the Will : the Will's determining between the two is a vo- luntary determining : but that is the same thing as mak- ing a choice. So that whatever names we call the act of the Will by, choosing, refusing, approving, disap- proving, liking, disliking, embracing, rejecting, deter- mining, directing, commanding, for bidding, inclining, or being averse, a being pleased or displeased with ; all may be reduced to this of choosing. For the soul to act vo- luntarily, is evermore to act electiveh/.

Mr Locke * says, " The Will signifies nothing but a power or ability to prefer or choose.'''' And in the foregoing page says, " The word preferring seems best to express the act of volition ;" but adds, that '* it does not precisely ; for (says he) though a man would prefer flying to walking, yet who can say he ever wills it ?"— - But the instance he mentions does not prove that there is any thing else in willing, but merely prefacing : for it should be considered what is the next and immediate object of the Will, with respect to a man's walking, or any other external action : which is not being removed from one place to another ; on the earth or through the air j these are remoter objects of preference ; but such or such an immediate exertion of himself. The thing nextly chosen or preferred when a man wills to walk, is not his being removed to such a place where he would be, but such an exertion and motion of his legs and feet, &c. in order to it. And his willing such an alteration in his body in the present moment, is nothing else but his choosing or preferring such an alteration in his body

Human Understanding, Edit 7, vol. i. p. 197.

Sect. L] The Nature of the Will 3:

at such a moment, or his liking it batter than the for- bearance of it. And God has so made and established the human nature, the soul being united to a body in proper state, that the soul preferring or choosing &uch an immediate exertion or alteration of the body, such an al- teration instantaneously follows. There is nothing else in the actions of my mind, that I am conscious of while I walk, but only my preferring or choosing, through suc- cessive moments, that there should be such alterations of my external sensations and motions ; together with a concurring habitual expectation that it will be so ; hav- ing ever found by experience, that on such an immediate preference such sensations and motions do actually, in- stantaneously, and constantly arise. But it is not so in the case of flying : though a man may be said remotely to choose or prefer flying, yet does he not choose or prefer, incline to, or desire, under circumstances in view, any-immediate exertion of the members of his body in order to it ; because he has no expectation that he should obtain the desired end by any such exertion; and he does not prefer or incline to any bodily exertion or ef- fort under this apprehended circumstance, of its being wholly in vain. So that if we carefully distinguish the proper objects of the several acts of the Will, it will not appear by this, and such like instances, that there is any difference between volition and preference ; or that a man's choosing, liking best, or being best pleased with a thing, are not the same with his willing that thing ; as they seem to be according to those general and more natural notions of men, according to which language is formed. Thus an act of the Will is commonly expressed by its pleasing a man to do thus or thus ; and a man doing as he willy and doing as he pleases, are the same thing in common speech.

Mr Locke * says, " The Will is perfectly distinguish- ed from Desire ; which in the very same action may have a quite contrary tendency from that which our Wills set

• Human Understanding, vol. i. p. 203, 20*.

4 The Nature of the Will [Part I.

us upon. A man (says he) whom I cannot deny, may oblige me to use persuasions to another, which at the same time f am speaking, I may wish may not prevail on him. In this case it is plain the Will and Desire run counter." I do not suppose that Will and Desire are words of precisely the same signification ; Will seems to be a word of a more general signification, extending to things present and absent. Desire respects something absent. I may prefer my present situation and posture, suppose sitting still, or having my eyes open, and so may will it. But yet I cannot think they are so entirely dis- tinct, that they can ever be properly said to run counter. A man never, in any instance, wills any thing contrary to his desire, or desires any thing contrary to his will. — The forementioned instance, which Mr Locke produces, does not prove that he ever does. He may, on some consideration or other, will to utter speeches which have a tendency to persuade another, and still may desire that they may not persuade him : but yet his Will and De- sire do not run counter at all : the thing which he wills, the very same he desires ; and he does not will a thing and desire the contrary in any particular. In this in- stance, it is not carefully observed, what is the thing willed, and what is the thing desired : if it were, it would be found that Will and Desire do not clash in the least. The thing willed, on some consideration, is to utter such words ; and certainly the same consideration so in- fluences him, that he does not desire the contrary ; all things considered, he chooses to utter such words, and does not desire not to utter them. And so as to the thing which Mr Locke speaks of as desired, viz. That the words, though they tend to persuade, should not be effectual to that end, his Will is not contrary to this ; he does not will that they should be effectual, but rather wills that he should not, as he desires. In order to prove that the Will and Desire may run counter, it should be shewn that they may be contrary one to the other in the same thing, or with respect to the very same object of Will or Desire : but here the objects are two;

Sect. I] What determines the Will 5

and in each, taken by themselves, the Will and Desire agree. And it is no wonder that they should not agree in different things, however little distinguished they are in their nature. The Will may not agree with the Will, nor Desire agree with Desire, in different things. As in this very instance which Mr Locke mentions, a per- son may, on some consideration, desire to use persua- sions, and at the same time may desire they may not prevail ; but yet nobody will say that Desire runs coun- ter to Desire ; or that this proves that Desire is perfect- ly a distinct thing from Desire. — The like may be ob- served of the other instance Mr Locke produces, of a man's desiring to be eased of pain, &c.

But not to dwell any longer upon this, whether De- sire and Will, and whether Preference and Volition, be precisely the same thing or no ; yet, I trust it will be allowed by all, that in every act of will there is ;an act of choice ; that in every volition there is a prefer- ence, or a prevailing inclination of the soul, whereby the soul, at that instance, is out of a state of perfect in- difference, with respect to the direct object of the voli- tion. So that in every act, or going forth of the Will, there is some preponderation of the mind or inclination, one way rather than another ; and the soul had rather have or do one thing than another, or than not to have or do that thing ; and that there, where there is abso- lutely no preferring or choosing, but aperfect continu- ing equilibrium, there is no volition.

SECTION II.

Concerning the Determination of the Will

BY Determining the Will, if the phrase be used with any meaning, must be intended, causing that the Act of the Will or Choice should be thus, and not * 3

Q What determines the Will [Parti,

otherwise : and the Will is said to be determined, when, in consequence of some action, or influence, its choice is directed to, and fixed upon a particular objact. As when we speak of the Determination of motion, we mean causing the motion of the body to be such a way, or in such a direction rather than another.

To talk of the determination of the Will, supposes an effect, which must have a cause. If the Will be deter- mined, there is a determiner. This must be supposed to be intended, even by them that say, the Will deter- mines itself. If it be so, the Will is both determiner and determined ; it is a cause that acts and produces ef- fects upon itself, and is the object of its own influence and action.

With respect to that grand inquiry, What determines the Will? it would be very tedious and unnecessary at present to enumerate and examine all the various opi- nions which have been advanced concerning this matter, nor is it needful that I should enter into a particular disquisition of all points debated in disputes upon that question, Whether the Will always follows the last dictate of the understanding. It is sufficient to my present purpose to say : It is that motive, which as it stands in the view of the mind, is the strongest, that determines the Will — but it may be necessary that I should a little explain my meaning in this.

By Motive, I mean the whole of that which moves, excites, or invites the mind to volition, whether that be one thing singly, or many things conjunctly. Many particular things may concur and unite their strength ta induce the mind ; and when it is so, all together are as it were one complex motive. And when I speak of the strongest motive, I have respect to the strength of the whole that operates, to induce to a particular act of vo- lition, whether that be the strength of one thing alone, or of many together.

Whatever is a motive in this sense, must be something that is extant in the view or apprehension of the under- standing, or perceiving faculty. Nothing can induce or

Sect. II.] What determines the Will. 7

invite the mind to will or act any thing, any further than it is perceived, or is some way or other in the mind's view ; for what is wholly unperceived, and perfectly out of the mind's view, cannot affect the mind at all. It is most evident, that nothing is in the mind, or reaches to it, or takes any hold of it, any otherwise than as it is perceived or thought of.

And I think it must also be allowed by all, that every thing that is properly called a motive, excitement, or in- ducement to a perceiving willing agent, has some sort of degree of tendency, or advantage to move or excite the Will, previous to the effect, or to the act of the Will excited. This previous tendency of the motive is what I call the strength of the motive. That motive which has a less degree of previous advantage or tendency to move the Will, or that appears less inviting, as it stands in the view of the mind, is what I call a weaker motive*— On the contrary, that which appears most inviting, and has by what appears concerning it to the understanding or apprehension, the greatest degree of previous tenden- cy to excite and induce the choice, is what I call the strongest motive. And in this sense, I suppose the Will is always determined by the strongest motive.

Things that exist in the view of the mind have their strength, tendency, or advantage to move or excite its Will, from many things appertaining to the nature and circumstances of the thing viewed, the nature and cir- cumstances of the mind that views, and the degree and manner of its view ; which it would perhaps be hard to. make a perfect enumeration of. But so much I think, may be determined in general, without room for contro- versy, that whatever is perceived or apprehended by an intelligent and voluntary agent, which has the nature and influence of a motive to volition or choice, is consider- ed or viewed as good ; nor has it any tendency to in- vite or engage the election of the soul in any further de- gree than it appears such. For to say otherwise, would be to say, that things that appear have a tendency by the appearance they make, to engage the mind to elect them.

8 What determines the Will [Part I,

some other way than by their appearing eligible to it ; which is absurd. And therefore it must be true, in some sense, that the Will always is as the greatest apparent good is. But only, for the right understanding of this, two things must be well and distinctly observed.

1. It must be observed in what sense I use the term good ; namely, as of the same import with agreeable. To appear good to the mind, as I use the phrase, is the same as to appear agreeable, or seem pileasing to the mind. Certainly nothing appears inviting and eli- gible to the mind, or tending to engage its inclination and choice, considered as evil or disagreeable ; nor in- deed, as indifferent, and neither agreeable nor disagree- able. But if it tends to draw the inclination, and move the Will, it must be under the notion of that which suits the mind. And therefore that must have the greatest tendency to attract and engage it, which, as it stands in the mind's view, suits it best, and pleases it most ; and in that sense, is the greatest apparent good : to say otherwise, is little, if any thing, short of a direct and plain contradiction.

The word good, in this sense, includes in its signifi- cation, the removal or avoiding of evil, or of that which is disagreeable and uneasy. It is agreeable and plea- sing, to avoid what is disagreeable and displeasing, and to have uneasiness removed. So^that here is included what Mr Locke supposes determines the Will. For when he speaks of uneasiness as determining the Will, he must be understood as supposing that the end or aim which governs in the volition or act of preference, is the avoiding or removal of that uneasiness ; and that is the same thing as choosing and seeking what is more easy and agreeable.

2. When I say, the Will* is as the greatest apparent good is, or (as I have explained it) that volition has al- ways for its object the thing which appears most agree- able ; it must be carefully observed, to avoid confusion and needless objection, that I speak of the direct and immediate object of the act of volition ; and not some

Sect. II.] What determines the Will g

object that the act of Will has not an immediate, but only an indirect and remote respect to. Many acts of volition, have some- remote relation to an object that is different from the thing most immediately willed and chosen. Thus, when a drunkard has his liquor before him, and he has to choose whether to drink it or no ; the proper and immediate objects, about which his pre- sent volition is conversant, and between which his choice now decides, are his own acts in drinking the liquor, or letting it alone ; and this will certainly be done according to what, in the present view of his mind, taken in the whole of it, is most agreeable to him. If he chooses or wills to drink it, and not to let it alone ; then this ac- tion, as it stands in the view of his mind, with all that belongs to its appearance there, is more agreeable and pleasing than letting it alone.

But the objects to which this act of volition may re- late more remotely, and between which his choice may determine more indirectly, are the present pleasure the man expects by drinking, and tlae future misery which he judges will be the consequence of it : he may judge that this future misery, when it comes, will be more disagreeable and unpleasant, than refraining from drink- ing now will be. But these two things are not the pro- per objects that the act of volition spoken of is nextly conversant about. For the act of Will spoken of is concerning present drinking or forbearing to drink. If he wills to drink, then drinking is the proper object of the act of his Will ; and drinking, on some account or other, now appears most agreeable to him, and suits him best. If he chooses to refrain, then refraining is the immediate object of his Will, and is most pleasing to him. If in the choice he makes in the case, he prefers a present pleasure to a future advantage, which he judges will be greater when it comes ; then a lesser present pleasure appears more agreeable to him than a greater advantage at a distance. If, on the contrary, a future advantage is preferred, then that appears most

1 0 What determines the Will. [Part I.

agreeable, and suits him best. And so still the present volition is as the greatest apparent good at present is.

I have rather chosen to express myself thwsj that the Will always is as the greatest apparent good, or as what appears most agreeable, is, than to say that the Will is determined by the greatest apparent good, or by what seems most agreeable; and because an appearing most agreeable or pleasing to the mind, and the mind's pre- ferring and choosing, seem hardly to be properly and perfectly distinct. If strict propriety of speech be in- sisted on, it may more properly be said, that the volun- tary action, which is the immediate consequence and fruit of the mind's volition or choice is determined by that which appears most agreeable, than the preference or choice itself; but that the act of volition itself is al- ways determined by that in or about the mind's view of the object, which causes it to appear most agreeable, I say, in or about the mind%s view of the object, because what has influence to render an object in view agreeable, is not only what appears in the object viewed, but also the manner of the view, and the stale and circumstances of the mind that views, — Particularly to enumerate all things pertaining to the mind's view of the objects of volition, which have influence in their appearing agree- able to the mind, would be a matter of no small difficul- ty, and might require a treatise by itself, and is not ne- cessary to my present purpose. I shall therefore only mention some things in general.

I. One thing that makes an object proposed to choice agreeable, is the apparent nature and circumstances of the object. And there are various things of this sort, that have a hand in rendering the object more or less a- greeable ; as,

1. That which appears in the object, which renders it beautiful and pleasant, or deformed and irksome to the mind ; viewing it as it is in itself.

2. The apparent degree of pleasure or trouble attend- ing the object or the consequence of it. Such concomi- tants and consequents being viewed as circumstances of

Sect. II.] What determines the Will 11

the objects, are to be considered as belonging to it, and as it were, parts of it; as it stands in the mind's view, as a proposed object of choice.

5. The apparent state of the pleasure or trouble that appears, with respect to distance of time ; being either nearer or farther off. It is a thing in itself agreeable to the mind, to have pleasure speedily ; and disagreea- ble, to have it delayed : so that if there be two equal degrees of pleasure set in the mind's view, and all other things are equal, but only one is beheld as near, and the other far off; the nearer will appear most agreeable, and so will be chosen. Because, though the agreeableness of the objects be exactly equal, as viewed in themselves, yet not as viewed in their circumstance* ; one of them having the additional agreeableness of the circumstance of nearness.

II. Another thing that contributes to the agreeable- ness of an object of choice, as it stands in the mind's view, is the manner of the biew. If the object be some thing which appears connected with future pleasure, not only will the degree of apparent pleasure have influence, but also the manner of the view, especially in two re- spects.

1. With respect to the degree of judgment, or firmness of assent, with which the mind judges the pleasure to be future. Because it is more agreeable to have a certain happiness, than an uncertain one ; and a pleasure viewed as more probable, all other things being equal, is more agreeable to the mind, than that which is viewed as less probable.

2. With respect to the degree of the idea of the fu- ture pleasure. With regard to things which are the subject of our thoughts, either past, present, or future, we have much more of an idea or apprehension of some things than others ; that is, our idea is much more clear lively and strong. I bus the ideas we have of sensible things by immediate sensation, are usually much more lively than those we have by mere imagination, or by

12 What determines the Will [Parti.

contemplation of them when absent. My idea of the sun, when I look upon it, is more vivid, than when I only think of it. Our idea of the sweet relish of a de- licious fruit is usually stronger when we taste it, than when we only imagine it. And sometimes the idea we have of things by contemplation, are much stronger and clearer than at other times. Thus, a man at one time has a much stronger idea of the pleasure which is to be enjoyed in eating some sort of food that he loves, than at another. Now, the degree or strength of the idea of sense that men have of future good or evil, is one thing that has great influence on their minds to excite choice or volition. When of two kinds of future pleasure, which the mind considers of, and are presented for choice, both are supposed exactly equal by the judgment, and both equally certain, and all other things are equal, but only one of them is what the mind has a far more lively sense of, than of the other ; this has the greatest advan- tage by far to affect and attract the mind, and move the Will. It is now more agreeable to the mind, to take the pleasure it has a strong and lively sense of, than that which it has only a faint idea of. The view of the for- mer is attended with the strongest appetite, and the greatest uneasiness attends the want of it ; and it is a- greeable to the mind to have uneasiness removed, and its appetite gratified. And if several future enjoyments are presented together, as competitors for the choice of the mind, some of them judged to be greater, and others less ; the mind also having a greater sense and more lively idea of the good of some of them, and of others a less ; and some are viewed as of greater certainty or probability than others ; and those enjoyments that ap- pear most agreeable in one of these respects, appear least so in others : in this case, all other things being equal, the agreeableness of a proposed object of choice will be in a degree some way compounded of the degree of good supposed by the judgment, the degree of ap- parent probability or certainty of that good, and the de- gree of the view, or sense, or liveliness of the idea, the

Sect. II.] What determines the Will 1$

mind has, of that good ; hecause all together concur to constitute the degree in which the object appears at pre- sent agreeable ; and accordingly volition will be deter- mined.

I might further observe, the state of the mind that views a proposed object of choice, is another thing that contributes to the agreeableness or disagreeableness of that object ; the particular temper which the mind has by nature, or that has been introduced and established by education, example, custom, or some other means ; or the frame or state that the mind is in on a particular occasion. That object which appears agreeable to one, does not so to another. And the same object does not always appear alike agreeable to the same person, at dif- ferent times. It is most agreeable to some men, to fol- low their reason ; and to others, to follow their appe- tites : to some men it is more agreeable to deny a vici- ous inclination, than to gratify it : other it suits best to gratify the vilest appetites. It is more disagreeable to some men than others, to counteract a former resolution. In these respects, and many others which might be men- tioned, different things will be most agreeable to differ- ent persons ; and not only so, but to the same persons at different times.

But possibly it is needless and improper, to mention the frame and state of the mind, as a distinct ground of the agreeableness of objects from the other two men- tioned before \ viz. The apparent nature and circum- stances of the objects viewed, and the manner of the view ; perhaps if we strictly consider the matter, the different temper and state of the mind makes no altera- tion as to the agreeableness of objects, any other way, than as it makes the objects themselves appear different- ly beautiful or deformed, having apparent pleasure or pain attending them ; and as it occasions the manner of the view to be different, causes the idea of beauty or deformity, pleasure or uneasiness to be more or less lively.

c

14 What determines the Will [Part I.

However, I think so much is certain, that volition, in no one instance that can be mentioned, is otherwise than the greatest apparent good is, in the manner which has been explained. The choice of the mind never departs from that which, at that time, and with respect to the direct and immediate objects of that decision of the mind, appears most agreeable and pleasing, all things considered. If the immediate objects of the Will are a man's own actions, then those actions which appear most agreeable to him he wills. If it be now most agree- able to him, all things considered, to walk, then he now wills to walk. If it be now, upon the whole of what at present appears to him, most agreeable to speak, then he chooses to speak ; if it suits him best to keep silence, then he chooses to keep silence. There is scarcely a plainer and more universal dictate of the sense and ex- perience of mankind, than that, when men act voluntari- ly, and do what they please, then they do what suits them best, or what is most agreeable to them. To say, that they do what they please, or what pleases them, but yet do not do what is agreeable to them, is the same thing as to say, they do what they please, but do not act their pleasure; and that is to say, that they do what they please and yet do not do what they please.

It appears from these things, that in some sense, the Will always follows the last dictate of the understand- ing. But then the understanding must be taken in a large sense, as including the whole faculty of perception or apprehension, and not merely what is called reason or judgment. If by the dictate of the understanding is meant what reason declares to be best or most for the person's happiness, taking in the whole of its duration, it is not true, that the Will always follows the last dic- tate of the understanding. Such a dictate of reason is quite a different matter from things appearing now most agreeable; all things being put together which pertain to the mind's present perceptions, apprehensions or ideas, in any respect. Although that dictate of rea- son when it takes place, is one thing that is put into

Sect. III.] The Nature of Necessity. 15

the scales, and is to be considered as a thing that has concern in the compound influence which moves and in- duces the Will ; and is one thing that is to he consider- ed in estimating the degree of that appearance of good which the Will always follows ; either as having its in- fluence added to other things, or subducted froni them. When it concurs with other things, then its weight is added to them, as put into the same scale ; but when it is against tiiem, it is as a weight in the opposite scale, where it resists the influence of other things ; yet its re- sistance is often overcome by their greater weight, and so the act of the Will is determined in opposition to it.

The things which I have said, may, I hope, serve, in some measure to illustrate and confirm the position I laid down in the beginning of this section ; viz. That the Will is always determined by the strongest motive, or by that view of the mind which has the greatest de- gree of previous tendency to excite volition. But whether 1 have been so happy as rightly to explain the thing wherein consists the strength of motives, or not, yet my failing in this will not overthrow the position it- self; which carries much of its own evidence with it, and is the thing of chief importance to the purpose of the ensuing discourse: and the truth of it, I hope, will appear with great clearness, before I have finished what I have to say on the subject of human liberty.

SECTION III.

Concerning the Meaning of the Terms Neces- sity, Impossibility, Inability, Sfc. and of Con- tin gene e.

rTlHE words necessary, impossible, &c. are abundantly A used in controversies about Freewill and moral agency ; and therefore the sense in which they are used, should be clearly understood.

16 The Nature of Necessity. [Part I.

Here I might say, that a thing is then said to be ne- cessary, when it must be, and cannot be otherwise. But this would not properly be a definition of Necessity, or an explanation of the word, any more than if I explain- ed the word must, by there being a necessity. The words must, can, and cannot, need explication as much as the words necessary, and impossibte ; excepting that the former are words that children commonly use, and know something of the meanrng of earlier than the lat- ter.

The word necessary, as used in common speech, is a relative term ; and relates to some supposed opposition made to the existence of the thing spoken of, which is overcome, or proves in rain to hinder or alter it. That is necessary* in the original and proper sense of the word, which is, or will be, notwithstanding all suppos- able opposition. To say, that a thing is necessary, is the same thing as to say, that it is impossible, it should not be ; but the word impossible is manifestly a relative term, and has reference to supposed power exerted to bring a thing to pas*, which is insufficient for the effect ; as the word unable is relative, and has relation to ability or endeavour which is insufficient ; and as the word ir- resistable is relative, and has always reference to resis- tance which is made, or may be made to some force or power tending to an effect, and is sufficient to withstand the power, or hinder the effect. The common notion of Necessity and Impossibility implies something that frustrates endeavour or desire.

Here several things are to be noted.

1. Things are said to be necessary in general, which are, or will be, notwithstanding any supposable opposi- tion from us or others, or from whatever quarter. But things are said to be necessary to us, which are, or will be, notwithstanding all opposition supposable in the case from us. The same may be observed of the word im~ possible, and other such like terms.

2. These terms necessary, impossible, irresistible, eye. do especially belong to controversy about liberty and

Sect. III.] The Nature of Necessity. 17

moral agency, as used in the latter of the two senses now mentioned ; viz. as necessary or impossible to us, and with relation to any supposable opposition or endeavour of ours.

3. As the word Necessity, in its vulgar and common use, is relative, and has always reference to some suppos- able and sufficient opposition ; so when we speak of any thing as necessary to us, it is with relation to some suppos- able opposition of our Wills, or some voluntary exertion or effort of ours to the contrary. For we do not properly make opposition to an event, any otherwise than as wevoluntari- ly oppose it. Things are said to be what must be, or ne- cessarily are, as to us, when they are, or will be, though we desire of endeavour the contrary, or try to prevent or remove their existence ; but such opposition of ours always either consists in, or implies opposition of, our wills.

It is manifest that all such like words and phrases, as vulgarly used, are used and accepted in this manner. A thing is said to be necessary, when we cannot help it, let us do what we will. So any thing is said to be iw- possible to us, when we would do it, or would have it brought to pass, and endeavour it ; or at least may be supposed to desire and seek it ; but all our desires and endeavours are, or would be vain. And that is said to be irresistible, which overcomes all our opposition, re- sistence, and endeavour to the contrary. And we are to be said unable to do a thing, when our supposable de- sires and endeavours to do it are insufficient.

We are accustomed in the common use of language, to apply and understand these phrases in this sense : we grow up with such a habit ; which by the daily use of these terms, in such a sense, from our childhood, be- comes fixed and settled ; so that the idea of a relation to a supposed will, desire and endeavour of ours, is strong- ly connected with these terms, and naturally excited in our minds, whenever we hear the words used. Such ideas, and these words, are so united and associated, 3

18 The Nature of Necessity. [Parti.

that they unavoidably go together ; one suggests the other, and carries the other with it, and never can be separated as long as we live. And if we use the words, as terms of art, in another sense, yet, unless we are ex- ceeding circumspect and wary, we shall insensibly slide into the vulgar use of them, and so apply the words in a very inconsistent manner ; this habitual connection of ideas will deceive and confound us in our reasonings and discourses, wherein we pretend to use these terms in that manner, as terms of art.

4. It follows from what has been observed, that when these terms necessary, impossible, irresistable, unable, Sec. are used in cases wherein no opposition, or insuffi- cient will or endeavour, is supposed, or can be suppos- ed, but the very nature of the supposed case itself ex- cludes, and denies any such opposition, will or endea- vour, these terms are then not used in their proper sig- nification, but quite beside their use in common speech. The reason is manifest ; namely, that in such cases we cannot use the words with reference to a supposable op- position, will or endeavour. And therefore if any man uses these terms in such cases, he either uses them non- sensically, or in some new sense, diverse from their ori- ginal and proper meaning. As for instance ; if a man should affirm after this manner, That it is necessary for a man, and what must be, that a man should choose vir- tue rather than vice, during the time that he prefers virtue to vice ; and that it is a thing impossible and ir- resistable, that it should be otherwise than that he should have this choice, so long as this choice continues ;, such a man would use the terms must, irresistable, &x. with perfect insignificance and nonsense, or in some new sense, diverse from their common use ; which is with reference, as has been observed, to supposable opposi- tion, unwillingness and resistance ; whereas, here, the very supposition excludes and denies any such thing: for the case supposed is that of being willing and choos- ing.

5. It appears from what has been saida that these

Sect. Ill ] The Nature of Necessity. ig

terms necessary, impossible, &c. are often used by phi- losophers and metaphysicians in a sense quite diverse from the common use and original signification : for they apply them to many cases in which no opposition is supposed or supposable. Thus they use them with respect to God's existence before the creation of the world, when there was no other being- but He : so with regard to many of the dispositions and acts of the divine Being, such as his loving himself, his loving righteous- ness, hating sinr &c. So they apply these terms to many cases of the inclinations and actions of created in- telligent beings, angels and men ; wherein all opposition of the Will is shut out and denied, in the very supposi- tion of the case.

Metaphysical or Philosophical Necessity is nothing different from their certainty. I speak npt now of the certainty of knowledge, but the certainty that is in things themselves, which is the foundation of the cer- tainty of the knowledge of them ; or that wherein lies the ground of the infallibility of the proposition which affirms them.

What is sometimes given as the definition of philoso- phical Necessity ; namely, That by which a thing can- not but be, or whereby it cannot be otherwise, fails of being a proper explanation of it, on two accounts ; First, The words can, or cannot, need explanation as much as the word Necessity: and the former may as well be ex- plained by the latter, as the latter by the former.— 'lhus, if any one asked us what we mean, when we say, a thing cannot but be, we might explain ourselves by saying, we mean, it must necessarily be so; as well as explain Necessity, by saying, it is that by which a thing cannot but be. And, Secondly, this definition is liable to the forementioned great inconvenience: the words cannot or unable, are properly relative, and have relation to power exerted, or that may be exerted, in order to the thing spoken of; to which, as I have now observed, the word Necessity, as used by philosophers has no re- ference.

20 The Nature of Necessity. [Part I.

Philosophical Necessity is really nothing else than the full and fixed connection between the things signi- fied by the subject and predicate of a proposition, which affirms something to be true. When there is such a connection, when the thing affirmed in the proposition is necessary, in a philosophical sense ; whether any op- position, or contrary effort be supposed, or supposable in the case, or no. When the subject and predicate of the proposition, which affirms the existence of any thing either substance, quality, act or circumstance, have a full and certain connection, then the existence or being of that thing is said to be necessary in a metaphysical sense. And in this sense I use the word Necessity, in the following discourse, when I endeavour to prove that Necessity is not inconsistent with liberty.

The subject and predicate of a proposition, which af- firms the existence of something, may have a full, fixed, and certain connection several ways.

(1.) They may have a full and perfect connection in and of themselves ; because it may imply a contradiction, or gross absurdity, to suppose them not connected.— Thus many things are necessary in their own nature. — So the eternal existence of being generally considered, is necessary in itself because it would be in itself the greatest absurdity to deny the existence of being in ge- neral, or to say there was absolute and universal no- thing ; and is as it were the sum of all contradictions ; as might be shewn, if this were a proper place for it.— So God's infinity, and other attributes are necessary. — So it is necessary in its own nature, that two and two should be four ; and it is necessary, that all right lines drawn from the centre of a circle to the circumference should be equal. It is necessary, fit, and suitable, that men should do to others, as they would that they should do to them. So innumerable metaphysical and mathe- matical truths are necessary in themselves : the subject and predicate of the proposition which affirms them, are perfectly connected of themselves.

(2.) The connection of the subject and predicate of a

Sect. III.] The Nature of Necessity. 21

proposition, which affirms the existence of something, may be fixed and made certain, because the existence of that thing is already come to pass ; and either now is, or has been ; and so has as it were made sure of exist- ence. And therefore, the proposition which affirms pre- sent and past existence of it, may by this means be made certain, and necessarily and unalterably true ; the past event has fixed and decided the matter, as to its existence \ and has made it impossible but that exist- ence should be truly predicated of it. Thus the exist- ence of whatever is already come to pass, is now be- come necessary ; it is become impossible it should be otherwise than true, that such a thing has been.

(3.) The subject and predicate of a proposition which affirms something to be, may have a real and certain connection consequentially ; and so the existence of the thing may be consequentially necessary ; as it may be surely and firmly connected with something else, that is necessary in one of the former respects. As it is either fully and thoroughly connected with that which is abso- lutely necessary in its own nature, or with something which has already received and made sure of existence. This Necessity lies in, or may be explained 6y, the con- nection of two or more propositions one with another.-— Things which are perftctly connected with other things that are necessary, are necessary themselves, by a ne- cessity of consequence.

And here it may be observed, that all things which are future, or which will hereafter begin to be, which can be said to be necessary, are necessary only in this last way. Their existence is not necessary in itself; for if so, they always would have existed. Nor is their exist- ence become necessary by being made sure, by being already come to pass. Therefore, the only way that any thing that is to come to pass, hereafter, is or can be necessary, is by a connection with something that is necessary in its own nature, or something that already is, or has been ; so that the one being supposed, the other certainly follows. And this also is the only way

22 The Nature of Necessity [Tart I.

that all things past, excepting1 those which were from eternity, could be necessary before they came to pass, or could come to pass necessarily ; and therefore the only way in which any effect or event, or any thing whatso- ever that ever has had, or will have a beginning-, has come into being necessarily, or will hereafter necessarily exist. And therefore this is the Necessity which es- pecially belongs to controversies about the acts of the will.

It may be of some use in these controversies, further to observe concerning metaphysical Necessity, that (agreeable to the distinction before observed of Neces- sity, as vulgarly understood) things that exist may be said to be necessary, either with a general or particular Necessity. The existence of a thing may be said to be necessary with a general Necessity, when all things whatsoever being considered, there is a foundation for cer- tainty of their existence ; or when in the most general and universal view of tilings, the subject and predicate of the proposition, which affirms its existence, would appear with an infallible connection.

An event, or the existence of a thing, may be said to be necessary with a particular Necessity or with re- gard to a particular person, thing or time, when nothing that can be taken into consideration, in or about that person, thing or time, alters the case at all, as to the certainty of that event, or the existence of that thing ; or can be of any account at all, in determining the in- fallibility of the connection of the subject and predicate in the proposition which affirms the existence of the thing ; so that it is all one, as to that person, or thing", at least, at that time, as if the existence were necessary with a Necessity that is most universal and absolute.— Thus there are many things that happen to particular persons, which they have no hand in, and in the exist- ence of which no will of theirs has any concern, at least, at that time; which, whether they are necessary or not with regard to things in general, yet are necessary to them, and with regard to any volition of theirs at that

Sect. III.] The Nature of Necessity. 23

time ; as they prevent all acts of the will about the af- fair.— I shall have occasion to apply this observation to particular instances in the following discourse. Whether the same things that are necessary with a particular Necessity, be not also necessary with a general Neces- sity, may be a matter of future consideration. Let that be as it will, it alters not the case, as to the use of this distinction of the kinds of Necessity.

These things may be sufficient for the explaining of the terms necessary and Necessity, as terms of art, and as often used by metaphysicians, and controversial wri- ters in divinity, in a sense diverse from, and more ex- tensive than their original meaning in common language, which was before explained.

What has been said to shew the meaning of the terms necessary and Necessity, may be sufficient for the ex- plaining of the opposite terms, impossible and impossibi- lity ; for there is no difference, but only the latter are negative, and the former positive. Impossibility is the same as negative Necessity, or a Necessity that a thing should not be. And it is used as a term of art in a like diversity from the original and vulgar meaning, with Necessity.

The same may be observed concerning the words unable and Inability. It has been observed, that these terms, in their original and common use, have relation to will and endeavour, as supposable ; in the case, and as insufficient for the bringing to pass the thing willed and endeavoured. But as these terms are often used by philosophers and divines, especially writers on contro- versies about Free-will, they are used in a quite differ- ent, and far more extensive sense, and are applied to many cases wherein no will or endeavour for the bring- ing of the thing to pass, is or can be supposed, but is actually denied and excluded in the nature of the case.

As the words necessary, impossible, unable, &c. are used by polemic writers, in a sense diverse from their common signification, the like has happened to the term contingent. Any thing is said to be contingent, or to

24 Of natur aland moral Necessity. [Part I.

come to pass by chance or accident, in the original meaning- of such words, when its connection with its causes or antecedents, according to the established course of things, is not discerned ; and so is what we have no means of the foresight of. And especially is any thing said to be contingent or accidental with regard to us, when any thing ccmes to pass that we are concerned in, as occasions or subjects, without our foreknowledge, and beside our design and scope.

But the word contingent is abundantly used in a very different sense; not for that whose connection with the series of things we cannot discern, so as to foresee the event, twtffor something which has absolutely no previ- ous ground or reason, with which its existence has any fixed and certain connection.

SECTION IV.

Of the Distinction of Natural and Moral Neces* sity and Inability.

nnHAT Necessity which has been explained, consist- -*- ing in an infallible connection of the things signified by the subject and predicate of a proposition, as intelli- gent beings are the subjects of it, is distinguished into moral and natural Necessity.

I shall not now stand to enquire whether this dis- tinction be a proper and perfect distinction ; but shall only explain how these two sorts of Necessity are under- stood, as the terms are sometimes used, and as they are used in the following discourse.

The phrase, Moral Necessity > is used variously; sometimes it is used for a necessity of moral obligation. So we say, a man is under Necessity, when he is under bonds of duty and conscience, which he cannot be dis- charged from. So the word Necessity is often used for

i

Sect. IV.] of Natural and Moral Necessity. 25

great obligation in point of interest. Sometimes by J/oral Necessity is meant that apparent connection of things, which is the ground of moral evidence ; and so is distinguished from absolute Necessity, or that sure connection of things, that is a foundation for infallible certainty. In this sense, Moral Necessity, signifies much the same as that high degree of probability, which is ordinarily sufficient to satisfy, and be relied upon by mankind, in their conduct and behaviour in the world, as they would consult their own safety and interest, and treat others properly as members of society. And sometimes by Moral Necessity is meant that Necessity of connection and consequence, which arises from such moral causes, as the strength of inclination, or motives, and the connection which there is in many cases between these, and such certain volitions and actions. And it is . in this sense, that I use the phrase, Moral Necessity, in the following discourse.

By Natural Necessity, as applied to men, I mean such Necessity as men are under through the force of natural causes ; as distinguished from what are called moral causes, such as habits and dispositions of the heart, and moral motives and inducements. Thus men placed in certain circumstances, are the subjects of particular sensations by Necessity ; they feel pain when their bo- dies are wounded ; they see the objects presented before them in a clear light, when their eyes are opened : so they assent to the truth of certain propositions, as soon as the terms are understood ; as that two and two make four, that black is not white, that two parallel lines can never cross one another ; so by a natural Necessity mens' bodies move downwards, when there is nothing to support them.

hut here several things may be noted concerning these two kinds of Necessity.

1. Moral Necessity may be as absolute, as natural Necessity. That is, the effect may be as perfectly con- nected with its moral cause, as a natural necessary effect is with its natural cause. Whether the Wiil in every D

*\

g6 of natural and moral Necessity. [Parti.

case is necessarily determined by the strongest motive, or whether the Will ever makes any resistance to such a motive, or can ever oppose the strongest present in- clination, or not ; if that matter should be controverted, yet I suppose none will deny, but that, in some cases, a previous bias and inclination, or the motive presented, may be so powerful, that the act of the Will may be certainly and indissolubly connected therewith. When motives or previous bias are very strong-, all will allow that there is some difficulty in going against them. And if they were yet stronger, the difficulty would be still greater. And therefore, if more were still added to their strength, to a certain degree, it would make the difficulty so great, that it would be wholly impossible to surmount it ; for this plain reason, because whatever power men may be supposed to have to surmount diffi- culties, yet that power is not infinite ; and so goes not beyond certain limits. If a man can surmount ten de- grees of difficulty of this kind with twenty degrees of strength, because the degrees of strength are beyond the degrees of difficulty : yet if the difficulty be increas- ed to thirty, or an hundred or a thousand degrees, and his strength not also encreased, his strength will be -wholly insufficient to surmount the difficulty. As there- fore it must be allowed, that there may be such a thing as a sure and perfect connection between moral causes and effects ; so this only is what I call by the name of Moral Necessity.

2. When I use this distinction of moral and natural Necessity, I wculd not be understood to suppose, that if any thing comes to pass by the former kind of Neces- sity, the nature of things is not concerned in it, as well as in the latter. I do not mean to determine, that when a moral habit or motive is so strong, that the act of the Will infallibly follows, this is not owing to the nature of things. But these are the names that these two kinds of Necessity have usually been called by ; and they must be distinguished by some names or other ; for there is a distinction or difference between them that is very im

Sect. IV.] of Natural and Moral Necessity. $9

portant in its consequences. Which difference does not lie so much in the nature of the connection, as in the two terms connected. The cause with which the effect is connected, is a particular kind ; viz. that which is of a moral nature ; either some previous habitual disposition, or some motive exhibited*© the understanding. And the effect is also of a particular kind ; being likewise of a moral nature; consisting in some inclination or volition of the soul or voluntary action.

I suppose that necessijbg which is called natural, in distinction from moral necessity, is so called, because mere nature, as the word is vulgarly used, is concerned, without any thing of choice. The word nature is often used in opposition to choice ; not because nature has in- deed never any hand in our choice ; but this probably comes to pass by means that we first get our notion of nature from that discernible and obvious course of events, which we observe in many things that our choice has no . concern in ; and especially in the material world ; which, in very many parts of it, we easily perceive to be in a; settled course; the stated order and manner of succes- sion being very apparent. But where we do not readi- ly discern the rule and connection, (though there be a connection, according to an established law, truly taking place) we signify the manner of event by some other name. Even in many things which are seen in the ma- terial and inanimate world, which do not discernibly and obviously come to pass according to any settled course, men do not call the manner of the event by the name of nature, but by such names as accident, chance, conting- ent, c^c. So men make a distinction between nature and choice : as though they were completely and universally distinct. Whereas, I suppose none will deny but that choice, in many cases, arises from nature, as truly as other events. But the dependanc&and connection be- tween acts of volition or choice, and their causes according to established laws, is not so sensible and obvious. And we observe that choice is as it were a new principle of motion and action, different from that established law aud

28 of Natural and Moral Necessity. [Part I.

order of things which is most obvious, that is seen espe- cially in corporeal and sensible things ; and also the choice often interposes, interrupts and alters the chain of events in these external objects, and causes them to proceed otherwise than they would do, if let alone, and left to go on according to the laws of motion among themselves. Hence it is spoken of as if it were a principle of motion entirely distinct from nature, and properly set in opposi- tion to it. Names being commonly given to things, ac- cording to what is most obvious, and is suggested by what appears to the senses without reflection and research.

3. It must be observed, that in what has been explain- ed, as signified by the name of Moral Necessity, the word Necessity is not used according to the original de- sign and meaning of the word : for as was observed before, such terms, necessary, impossible, irresistible, &c. in com- mon speech, and their most proper sense, are always re- lative ; having reference to some supposable voluntary opposition or endeavour, that is insufficient. But no such opposition, or contrary will and endeavour, is sup- posable in the case of moral Necessity ; which is a cer- tainty of the inclination and will itself; which does not admit of the supposition of a will to oppose and resist it. For it is a' surd, to suppose the same individual wiil to oppose itself, in its present act ; or the present choice to be opposite to, and resisting present choice : as absurd as it is to talk of two contrary motions, in the same moving body, at the same time. And therefore the very case supposed never admits of any trial, whether an opposing or resisting will can overcome this Necessity.

What has been said of natural and moral Necessity, may serve to explain what is intended by natural and mo- ral inability. We are said to be naturally unable to do a thing, when we cannot do it if we will, because what is most commonly called nature do not allow of it, or be- cause of some impeding defect or obstacle that is ex- trinsic to the wiil ; either in the faculty of understanding, constitution of body, or external objects. Moral Ina- bility consists not in any of these things ; but either in

Sect. IV.] Of Moral Inability. 29

the want of inclination ; or the strength of a contrary incli- nation ; or the want of sufficient motives in view, to in- duce and excite the act of the will, or the strength of apparent motives to the contrary. Or both these may be resolved into one; and it may be said in one word, that moral Inability consists in the opposition nor want of inclination. Eor, when a person is unable to will or choose such a thing, through a defect of motives, or prevalence of contrary motives, it is the same thing as his being unable through the want of an inclination, or the prevalence of a contrary inclination, in such circum- stances, and under the influence of such views.

To give some instances of this Moral Inability — A woman of great honour and chastity, may have a moral Inability to prostitute herself to her slave. A child of great love and duty to his parents, may be unable to be willing to kill his father. A very lascivious man, in case of certain opportunities and temptations, and in the ab- sence of such and such circumstances, may be unable to forbear gratifying his lust. A drunkard, under such and such circumstances, may be unable to forbear taking of strong drink. A very malicious man may be unable to exert benevolent acts to an enemy, or to desire his pros- perity : yea, some may be so under the power of a vile disposition, that they may be unable to love those who are most worthy of their esteem and affection. A strong habit of virtue, and great degree ef holiness may cause a moral Inability to love wickedness in general ; may ren- der a man unable to take complacence in wicked persons or things ; or to choose a wicked life, and prefer it to a virtuous life. And on the other hand, a great degree of habitual wickedness may lay a man under an Inability to love and choose holiness ; and render him utterly un* able to love an infinitely holy Being, or to choose and cleave to him as hi$ chief good.

Here it may be of use to observe this distinction of moral Inability ; viz, of that which is general and habU tual, and that which is particular and occasional. By a general and habitual moral Inability, I mean an Inabili- ty in the heart to all exercises or acts of will of that na-

30 Of Moral Inability. [Parti.

ture or kind, through a fixed and habitual inclination, or an habitual and stated defect, or want of a certain kind of inclination. Thus a very ill-natured man may be unable to exert such acts of benevolence, as another, who is full of good nature, commonly exerts, and a man, whose heart is habitually void of gratitude, may be un- able to exert such and such grateful acts, through that stated defect of a grateful inclination. By particular and occasional moral Inability, I mean an Inability of the will or heart to a particular act, through the strength or defect of present motives, or of inducements pre- sented to the view of the understanding, on this occa- sion. If it be so, that the will is always determined

by the strongest motive, then it must always have an In- ability, in this latter sense, to act otherwise than it does ; it not being possible, in any case, that the will should, at present, go against the motive which has now, all things considered, the greatest strength and advantage

to excite and induce it.- The former of these kinds

of moral Inability, consisting in that which is stated, habitual and general, is most commonly called by the name of Inability ; because the word Inability, in its most proper and original signification, has respect to some stated defect. And this especially obtains the name of Inability also upon another account: — I before ob- served, that the word Inability, in its original and most common use, is a relative term ; and has respect to will and endeavour, as supposable in the case, and as insuffi- cient to bring to pass the thing desired and endeavoured. Now, there may be more of an appearance and shadow of this, with respect to the acts which arise from a fixed and strong habit, than others that arise only from tran- sient occasions and causes. Indeed, will and endeavour against, or diverse from, present acts of the will, are u\ no case supposable, whether those acts be occasional or habitual ; for that would be to suppose the will, at pre- sent, to be otherwise than, at present, it is. But yet there may be will and endeavour against future acts of the will, or volitions that are likely to take place, as

Sect. IV.] Of Moral Inability. 31

viewed at a distance. It is no contradiction, to suppose that the acts of the will at one time, may be against the acts of the will at another time ; and there may be de- sires and endeavours to prevent or excite future acts of the will ; but such desires and endeavours are, in many cases, rendered insufficient and vain, through fixedness of habit ; when the occasion returns, the strength of habit overcomes and baffles all such opposition. In this respect, a man may be in miserable slavery and bondage to a strong habit. But it may be comparatively easy to make an alteration with respect to such future acts, as are only occasional and transient ; because the occasion or transient cause, if foreseen, mav often easily be pre- vented or avoided. On this account, the moral Inabili- ty (hat attends fixed habits, especially obtains the name of Inability. And then, as the will may remotely and indirectly resist itself, and doit in vain, in the case of strong habits ; so reason may resist present acts of the will, and its resistance be insufficient ; and this is more commonly the case also, when the acts arise from strong- habit.

But it must be observed concerning moral Inability, in each kind of it, that the word Inability is used in a sense very diverse from its original import. The word signifies only a natural Inability, in the proper use of it ; and is applied to such cases only wherein a present will or inclination to the tiling, with respect to which a person is said to be unable, is supposable. It cannot be truly said, according to the ordinary use of language, that a malicious man, let him be never so malicious, can- not hold his hand from striking, or that he is not able to shew his neighbour kindness ; or that a drunkard, let his appetite be never so strong, cannot keep the cup from his mouth. In the strictest propriety of speech, a man has a thing in his power, if he has it in his choice, or at his election : and a man cannot be truly said to be unable to do a thing, when he can do it if he will. It is improperly said, that a person cannot perform those external actions, which are dependent on the act of the

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32 The Notion of Liberty. [Part I.

will, and which would be easily performed, if the act of the will were present. And if it be improperly said, that he cannot perform those external voluntary actions, which depend on the will, it is in some respect more improperly said, that he is unable to exert the acts of the will themselves ; because it is more evidently false, with respect to these, that he cannot if he will : for to say so, is a downright contradiction : it is easy to say he cannot will, if he does will. And in this case, not only is it true, that it is easy for a man to do the thing if he will, but the very willing is the doing ; when once he was willed, the thing is performed ; and nothing else remains to be done. Therefore, in these things to ascribe a non-performance to the want of power or abili- ty, is not just ; because the thing wanting is not a be- ing able, but a being willing. There are faculties of mind, and capacity of nature, and exery thing else, sufficient, but a disposition; nothing is wanting but a will.

SECTION V.

Concerning the Notion of Liberty, and of Moral Agency.

np HE plain and obvious meaning of the words Free- dom and Liberty, in common speech, is power, op- portunity, or advantage, that any one has, to do as he pleases. Or, in other words, his being free from hind- rance or impediment in the way of doing, or conducting in any respect, as he wills*. And the contrary to liber- ty, whatever name we may call that by, is a person's being hindered or unable to conduct as he will, or being necessitated to do otherwise.

I say not only doing, but conducting ; because a voluntary for- bearing to do, sitting still, keeping silence, &c. are instances of persons conduct, about which Liberty is exercised; though they are not so properly called doing. to ■

Sect. V.] -4/h* 0/ Afo/a/ Agency. 33

If this which I have mentioned be the meaning of the word Liberty, in the ordinary use of language ; as I trust that none has ever learned to talk, and is unpre- judiced, will deny : then it will follow, that in propriety of speech, neither Liberty, nor its contrary, can pro- perly be ascribed to any being or thing, but that which has such a faculty, power or property, as is called will. For that which is possessed of no such thing as will, cannot have any power or opportunity of doing accord- ing to its will, nor be necessitated to act contrary to its will) nor be restrained from acting agreeable to it. And therefore to talk of Liberty, or the contrary, as belong- ing to the very will itself, is not to speak good sense ; if we judge of sense, and nonsense, by the original and proper signification of the words. For the will itself is not an Agent that has a will : the power of choosing, itself, has not a power of choosing. That which has the power of volition or choice is the man or the souj^ and not the power of volition itself. And he that has the liber- ty of doing according to his will, is the agent or doer who is possessed of the will ; and not the will which he is possessed of. We say with propriety, that a bird let loose has power and liberty to fly: but not that the bird's power of flying has a power and liberty of flying. To be free is the property of an agent, who is possessed of powers and faculties, as much as to be cunning, va- liant, bountiful, or zealous. But these qualities ar<* the properties of men or persons ; and not the properties of properties.

There are two things that are contrary to this which is called Liberty in common speech. One is constraint : the same is otherwise called force, compulsion, and coac- tion ; which is a person's being necessitated to do a thing contrary to his will. The other is restraint ; which is his being hindered, and not having power to do according to his will. But that which has no will, cannot be the subject of these things.— I need say the less on this head, Mr Locke having set the same thing forth, with so great clearness, in his Essay on the Human Understand- ing.

34 The Notion of Liberty. [Part L

But one thing- more I would observe concerning what is vulgarly called Liberty ; namely, that power and op* portunity for one to do and conduct as he will, or ac- cording to his choice, in all that is meant by it ; without taking into the meaning of the word, any thing of the cause or original of that choice ; or at all considering how the person came to have such a volition ; whether it was caused by some external motive, or internal habi- tual bias ; whether it was determined by some internal antecedent volition, or whether it happened without a cause ; whether it was necessarily connected with some- thing foregoing, or not connected. Let the person come by his volition or choice how he will, yet, if he is able, and there is nothing in the way to hinder his pursuing and executing his will, the man is fully and perfectly free, according to the primary and common notion of freedom.

What has been said may be sufficient to shew what is meant by Liberty, according to the common notions of mankind, and in the usual and prineary acceptation of the word : but the word, as used by Arminians, Pela* gians, and others who oppose the Cahinists, has an en- tirely different signification. These several things be- long to their notion of liberty. 1. That it consists in a self determining power in the will, or a certain sove- reignty the will has over itself, and its own acts, where* by it determines its own volitions ; so as not to be de- pendent in its determination, on any cause without it- self, nor determined by any thing prior to its own acts. 2. Indifference belongs to Liberty in their notion of it, or that the mind, previous to the act of volition be, in equilibrio. 3. Contingence is another thing that belongs and is essential to it ; not in the common acceptation of the word, as that has been already explained, but as op- posed to all necessity, or any fixed and certain connec- tion with some previous ground or reason of its exist- ence. They suppose the essence of Liberty so much to consist in these things, that unless the will of man be free in this sense, he has no real freedom, how much soever he may be at liberty to act according to his will*

Sect. V.] And of Mcral Agency* 33

A Moral Agent is a being that is capable of those ac- tions that have a moral quality, and which can properly be denominated good or evil in a moral sense, virtuous or vicious, commendable or faulty. To moral Agency belongs a moral faculty \ or sense of moral good and evil, or such a thing as desert or worthiness, of praise or blame, reward or punishment ; and a capacity which an Agent has of being influenced in his actions by moral inducements or motives, exhibited to the view of under- standing and reason, to engage to a conduct agreeable to the moral faculty.

The sun is very excellent and beneficial in its action and influence on the earth, in warming it, and causing it to bring forth its fruits ; but it is not a moral Agent : its action, though good, is not virtuous or meritorious. Fire that breaks out in a city, and consumes great part of it, is very mischievous in its operation ; but is not a moral Agent : what it does is not faulty or sinful, or de- serving of any punishment. The brute creatures are not moral Agents ; the actions of some of them are very profitable and pleasant; others are very hurtful: yet, seeing they have no moral faculty, or sense of desert, and do not act from choice guided by understanding, or with a capacity of reasoning and reflecting, but only from instinct, and are not capable of being influenced by moral inducements, their actions are not properly sinful or virtuous ; nor are they properly the subjects of any such moral treatment for what they do, as moral Agents .are for their faults or good deeds.

Here it may be noted, that there is a circumstantial difference between the moral Agency of a ruler and a subject. I call it circumstantial, because it lies only in the difference of moral inducements thev are capable of being influenced by, arising from the difference of ctr- cumstances. A ruler acting in that capacity only, is not capable of being influenced by a moral law, and its sanc- tions of threatenings and promises, rewards and punish- ments, as the subject is ; though both may be iniluenced by a knowledge of moral good and evil. And therefore

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3D The Notion of Liberty. [Part I.

the moral Agency of the Supreme Being, who acts only in the capacity of a ruler towards his creatures, and never as a subject, differs in that respect from the moral Agency of created intelligent beings. God's actions, and particularly those which he exerts as a moral gover- nor, have moral qualifications, are morally good in the highest degree. They are most perfectly holy and righteous ; and we must conceive of Him as influenced in the highest degree, by that which, above all others, is properly a moral inducement ; viz. the moral good which he sees in such and such things : and therefore He is, in the most proper sense, a moral Agent, the source of moral ability and Agency, the fountain and rule of all virtue and moral good ; though by reason of his being supreme over all, it is not possible He should be under the influence of law or command, promises or threatenings, rewards or punishments, counsels or warn- ings. The essential qualities of a moral Agent are in God, in the greatest possible perfection ; such an under- standing, to perceive the difference between moral good and evil ; a capacity of discerning that moral worthiness and demerit, by which some things are praise-worthy, others deserving of blame and punishment ; and also a capacity of choice, and choice guided by understanding, and power of acting according to his choice or pleasure, and being capable of doing those things which are in the highest sense praise-worthy. And herein does very much consist that image of God wherein he made man, (which we read of Gen. i. 26, 27. and chap. ix. 6.) by which God distinguished man from the beas{s •, viz. in those facuhies and principles of nature, whereby He is capable of moral Agency. Herein very much consists the natural image of God ; as his spiritual and moral image, wherein man was made at first, consisted in that moral excellency, that he was endowed with.

PART II.

"Wherein it is considered whether there is or can be any such Sort ef Freedom of Will, as that wherein Armixians place the Es- sence of the Liberty of all Moral Agents; and whether any such Thing ever was or can be conceived of.

SECTION I.

Shelving the manifest Inconsistence of the Ar~ minian Notion of 'Liberty of WUl% consisting of the WiWs self determining Power,

jTTAVINGr taken notice of those thing's which may ■"-■*• be necessary to be observed, concerning the mean- ing of the principal terms and phrases made use of in controversies concerning Human Liberty, and particu- larly observed what Liberty is according to the common ' language and general apprehension of mankind, and what it is as understood and maintain**! by Arminians ; I proceed to consider the Arminian notion of the Free- dom of the Will, and the supposed necessity of it in order to Moral Agency, or in order to any one's be- ing capable of virtue or vice, and properly the sub- ject of command or counsel, praise or blame, promi- ses or threatenings, rewards or punishments ; or whe- ther that which has been described, as the thing meant by liberty in common speech, be not sufficient and the only liberty, which makes, or can make any one a moral agent, and so properly the subject of these things. In this Part, I shall consider whether any such thing be possible or conceiveabLe, as that Freedom of Will which Arminians insist on ; and shall enquire, whether any such sort of Liberty be necessary to moral agency, Sfc. in the next Part.

And first of all, I shall consider the notion of a self determining Power in the Will : wherein, according to

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38 The Inconsistence of [Part II.

the Arminians, does most essentially consist in the Will's Freedom ; and shall particularly enquire, whe- ther it be not plainly absurd, and a manifest inconsist- ence, to suppose that the will itself determines all the free acts of the Will.

Here I shall not insist on the great impropriety of such' phrases, and ways of speaking, as the Will's deter- mining itself ; because actions are to be ascribed to agents, and not properly to the power of agents; which improper way of speaking leads to many mistakes and much confusion, as Mr Locke observes. But I shall suppose that the Armenians, when they speak of the Will's determining itself, do by the Will mean the soul willing. I shall take it for granted, that when they speak of the Will, as the determiner, they mean the soul in the exercise of a power of willing, or acting voluntarily. I shall suppose this to be their meaning, because nothing else can be meant, without the grossest and plainest absurdity. In all cases when we speak of the powers or principles of acting, as doing such things, we mean that the agents which have these Powers of acting, do them, in the exercise of those Powers. So when we say, valour fights courageously, we mean, the man who is under the influence of valour fights courage- ously. When we say, love seeks the object loved, we mean the person loving seeks that object. When we say, the understanding discerns, we mean the soul in the exercise of that faculty. So when it is said, the will decides or determines, the meaning must be, that the person in the exercise of a Power of willing and choosing, or the soul acting voluntarily, determines.

Therefore, if the Will determines all its own free acts, the soul determines all the free acts of the will in the exercise of a Power of willing and choosing ; or, which is the same thing, it determines them of choice ; it determines its own acts by choosing its own acts. IT the Will determines the Will, then choice orders and determines the choice : and acts of choice are subject to the decision, and follow the conduct

N

Sect. I.] Self-determining Power. 39

of other acts of choice. And therefore if the Will de- termines all its own free acts, then every free act of choice is determined hy a preceding act of choice, choos- ing that act. And if that preceding act of the Will or choice be also a free act, then by these principles, in this act too, the Will is self-determined : that is, this, in like manner, is an act that the soul voluntarily choos- es ; or, which is the same thing, it is an act determined still by a preceding act of the Will, choosing that. And the like may again be observed of the last mentioned act. Which brings us directly to a contradiction : for it supposes an act of the Will preceding the first act in the whole train, directing and determining the rest ; or a free act of the Will, before the first free act of the Will. Or else we must come at last to an act of the Will, determining the consequent acts, wherein the Will is not self-determined, and so is not a free act, in this notion of freedom : but if the first act in the train, determining and fixing the rest, be not free, none of them all can be free : as is manifest at first view, but shall be demonstrated presently.

If the Will, which we find governs the members of the body, and determines and commands their motions and actions, does also govern itself, and determine its own motions and actions, it doubtless determines them the same way, even by antecedent volitions. The Will determines which way the hands and feet shall move, by an act of volition or choice : and there is no other way of the Will's determining, directing, or commanding any thing at all. Whatsoever the Will commands, it com- mands by an act of the Will. And if it has itself under its command, and determines itself in its own actions, it doubtless does it the same way that it determines other things which are under its command. So that if the freedom of the Will consists in this, that it has itself and its own actions under its command and direction, and its own volitions are determined by itself, it will follow, that every free volition arises from another ante- cedent volition, directing and commanding that : and if that directing volition be also free, in that also the will

40 The Inconsistence of [Part II.

is determined ; that is to say, that directing volition is determined by another going before that : and so on till we come to the first volition in the whole series : and if that first volition be free, and the Will self-determined in it, then that is determined by another volition prece- ding that. Which is a contradiction ; because by the supposition, it can have none before it, to direct or de- termine it, being the first in the train. But if that first volition is not determined by any preceding act of the Will, then that act is not determined by the Will, and so is not free in the Arminian notion of free- dom, which consists in the WilPs self-determination. And if that first act of the Will, which determines and fixes the subsequent acts, be not free, none of the fol- lowing acts, which are determined by it, can be free. If we suppose there are five acts in the train, the fifth and last determined by the fourth, and the fourth by the third, the third by the second, and the second by the first ; if the first is not determined by the Will, and so not free, then none of them are truly determined by the Will : that is, that each of them are as they are, and not otherwise, is not first owing to the Will, but to the determination, of the first in the series, which is not de- pendant on the Will, and is that which the Will has no hand in the determination of. And this being that which decides what the rest shall be, and determines their existence ; therefore the first determination of their existence is not from the Will. The case is just the same, if instead of a chain of five acts of the Will, we should suppose a succession of ten, or an hundred, or ten thousand. If the first act be not free, being deter- mined by something out of the Will, and this deter- mines the next to be agreeable to itself, and that the next, and so on ; they are none of them free, but all originally depend on, and are determined by, some cause out of the Will : and so all freedom in the case is exclu- ded, and no act of the Will can be free, according to this notion of freedom. If we should suppose a long chain of ten thousand links, so connected, that if the

\

Sect. I.] Self-determining Power* 41

first link moves, it will move the next, and that the next ; and so the whole chain must be determined to motion, and in the direction of its motion by the motion of the first link ; and that is moved by something else : in this case, though all the links, but one, are moved by other parts of the same chain ; yet it appears that the motion of no one, nor the direction of its motion, is from any self-moving or self-determining Power in the chain, any more than if every link were immediately moved by something that did not belong to the chain. If the will be not free in the first act, which causes the next, then neither is it free in the next, which is caused by that first act : for though indeed the will caused it, yet it did not cause it freely ; because the preceding act, by which it was caused, was not free. And again, if the will be not free in the second act, so neither can it be in the third, which is caused by that ; because, in like manner, that third was determined by an act of the will that was not free. And so we may go on to the next act, and from that to the next ; and how long so- ever the succession of acts is, it is all one ; if the first, on which the whole chain depends, and which deter- mines all the rest, be not a free act, the will is not free in causing or determining any one of those acts, be- cause the act by which it determines them all, is not a free act ; and therefore the will is no more free in de- termining them, than if it did not cause them at all. Thus, this Arminian notion of Liberty of the Will, consisting in the Will's Self determination , is repugnant to itself, and shuts itself wholly out of the world.

SECTION II.

Several supposed Ways of evading the foregoing Reasoning considered.

F to evade the force of what has been observed, it should be said, that when the Arminians speak of

3

42 Supposed Evasions considered. [Part II.

the will's determining its own acts, they do not mean that the will determines its acts by any preceding act, or that one act of the will determines another ; but only that the faculty or power of will, or the soul in the use of that power, determines its own volitions, and that it does it without any act going before the act determined ; such an evasion would be full of the most gross absurdi- ty. 1 confess^ it is an evasion of my own inventing ;

and I do not know but I should wrong the Arminians, in supposing that any of them would make use of it. But it being as good a one as I can invent, I would ob- serve upon it a few things.

First. If the faculty or power of the will determines an act of volition, or the soul in the use or exercise of that power, determines it, that is the same thing as for the soul to determine volition by an act of will. For an exercise of the power of will, and an act of that power, are the same thing. Therefore to say, that the power of will, or the soul in the use or exercise of that power, determines volition, without an act of will preceding the volition determined, is a contradiction.

Secondly. If a power of will determines the act of the will, then a power of choosing determines it. For, as was before observed, in every act of will, there is choice, and a power of willing is a power of choosing..—- But if a power of choosing determines the act of volition, it determines it by choosing it. For it is most absurd to say, that a power of choosing determines one thing ra- ther than another, without choosing any thing. But if a power of choosing determines volition by choosing it, then here is the act of volition determined by an antece- dent choice, choosing that volition.

Thirdly. To say, the faculty, or the soul, determines its own volition, but not by any act, is a contradiction. Because for the soul to direct, decide, or determine any thing, is to act ; and this is supposed ; for the soul is here spoken of as being a cause in this affair, bringing something to pass, or doing something ; or, which is the same thing, exerting itself in order to an effect, which

Sect. II.] Supposed Evasions considered. 43

effect is the determination of volition, or the particular kind and manner of an act of will. But certainly this exertion or action is not the same with the effect, in order to the production of which it is exerted ; but must be something prior to it.

Again : The advocates for this notion of the freedom of the will, speak of a certain sovereignty in the will, whereby it has power to determine its own volitions. — And therefore the determination of volition must itself be ai* act of the will ; for otherwise it can be no exercise of that supposed power and sovereignty.

Again : If the will determines itself, then either the will is active in determining its volitions, or it is not — If it be active in it, then the determination is an act of the will ; and so there is one act of the will determining another. But if the will is not active in the determina- tion, then how does it exercise any liberty in it ? These gentlemen suppose that the thing wherein the will exer- cises liberty, is in its determining its own acts : but how can this be, if it be not active in determining ? — Certainly the will, or the soul, cannot exercise any li- berty in that wherein it doth not act, or wherein it doth not exercise itself* So that if either part of this dilem- ma be taken, this scheme of liberty, consisting in self- determining power, is overthrown. If there be an act of the will in determining all its own free acts, then one free act of the will is determined by another -f and so we have the absurdity of every free act, even the very first, determined by a foregoing free act. But if there be no act or exercise of the will in determining its own acts, then no liberty is exercised in determining them. From whence it follows, that no liberty consists in the will's power to determine its own acts ; or, which is the same thing, that there is no such thing as liberty consisting in a self-determining power of the will.

If it should be said, J hat although it be true, if the soul determines its own volitions, ii. must be active in so doing, and the determination itself must be an act ; yet there is no need of supposing this act to be prior to the

v

44 Supposed Evasions considered. [Part II.

volition determined : but the will or soul determines the act of the will in willing ; it determines its own volition, in the very act of volition ; it directs and limits the act of the will, causing it to be so and not otherwise, in ex- erting the act, without any preceding act to exert that. If any should say after this manner, they must mean one of these three things ; Either, (1.) That the deter- mining act, though it be before the act determined in the order of nature, yet it is not before it in order of time. Or, (2.) That the determining act is not before the act determined, either in the order of time or nature, nor is truly distinct from it ; but that the soul's deter- mining the act of volition is the same thing with its ex- erting the act of volition : the mind's exerting such a particular act, is its causing and determining the act.— Or, (3.) That volition has no cause, and is no effect; but comes into existence, with such a particular determi- nation, without any ground or reason of its existence and determination. I shall consider these distinctly.

(1.) If all that is meant be, that the determining act is not before the act determined in order of time, it will not help the case at all, though it should be allow- ed. If it be before the determined act in the order of nature, being the cause or ground of its existence, this as much proves it to be distinct from it, and independent on it, as if it were before in the order of time. As the cause of the particular motion of a natural body in a certain direction, may have no distance as to time, yet cannot be the same with the motion effected by it, but must be as distinct from it, as any other cause, that is before its effect in the order of time : as the architect is distinct from the house which he builds, or the father distinct from the son which he begets. And if the act of the will determining be distinct from the act deter- mined, and before it in the order of nature, then we can go back from one to another, till we come to the first *.n the series, which has no act of the will before it in the order of nature, determining it; and consequently is an act not determined by the will, and so not a free act, in

\

Sect. II. ] Supposed Evasions considered, 45

this notion of freedom. And this being the act which determines all the rest, none of them are free acts. As when there is a chain of many links, the first of which only is taken hold of and drawn by hand ; all the rest may follow and be moved at the same instant, without any distance of time ; but yet the motion of one link is before that of another in the order of nature ; the last is moved by the next, and that by the next, and so till we come to the first ; which not being moved by any other, but by something distinct from the whole chain, this as much proves that no part is moved by any self- moving power in the chain, as if the motion of one link follow- ed that of another in the order of time.

(2) If any should say, that the determining act is not before the determined act, either in the order of time, or of nature, nor is distinct from it ; but that the exertion of the act is the determination of the act ; that for the soul to exert a particular volition, is for it to cause and determine that act of volition : I would on this observe, that the thing in question seems to be forgotten, uf kept out of sight, in a darkness and unin- telligibleness of speech j unless such an objector would mean to contradict himself. — The very act of volition itself is doubtless a determination of mind ; 1. e. it is the minds drawing up a conclusion, or coming to a choice between two things, or more, proposed to it. But de termining among external objects of choice, is not the same with determining the act of choice itself, among various possible acts of choice. The question is, What influences, directs, or determines the mind or will to come to such a conclusion or choice as it does ? Or what is the cause, ground, or reason, why it concludes thus, and not otherwise ? Now it must be answered, according to the Arminian notion of freedom, that the will influen- ces, orders, and determines itself thus to act. And if jt does, I say, it must be by some antecedent act. To say, it is caused, influenced, and determined by some- thing, and yet not determined by any thing antecedent, either in order of time or nature, is a contradiction. For

/

46 Supposed Evasions considered, [Part II.

that is what is meant by a thing's being prior in the order of nature, that it is some way the cause or reason of the other thing-, with respect to which it is said to be prior.

If the particular act or exertion of will which comes into existence, be any thing properly determined at all, then it has some cause of its existing, and of its exist- ing in such a particular determinate manner, and not another ; some cause, whose influence decides the mat- ter ; which cause is distinct from the effect, and prior to it. But to say, that the will or mind orders, influences, and determines itself to exert such an act as it does, by the very exertion itself, is to make the exertion both cause and effect ; or the exerting such an act, to be a cause of the exertion of such an act. For the question is, What is the cause and reason of the soul's exerting such an act ? To which the answer is, The soul exerts suclTan act, and that is the cause of it. And so, bj this, the exertion must be prior in the order of nature to itself, and distinct from itself.

(3.) If the meaning be, that the soul's exertion of such a particular act of will, is a thing that comes to pass of itself, without any cause ; and that there is absolute- ly no ground or reason of the soul's being determined to exert such a volition, and make such a choice, rather than another ; I say, if this be the meaning of Armeni- ans, when they contend so earnestly for the will's de- termining its own acts, and for liberty of will, consisting in self-determining power; they do nothing but con- found themselves and others with words without a mean- ing. In the question, What determines the will ? and in their answer, that The will determines itself, and in all the dispute about it, it seems to be taken for granted, that something determines the will ; and the controversy on this head is not, whether any thing at all determines it, or whether its determination has any cause or foun- dation at all ; but where the foundation of it is, whether in the will itself, or somewhere else. But if the thing intended be what is above-mentioned, then all comes to this, that nothing at all determines the will ; volition

Sect. II.] Supposed Evasions considered, 47

having absolutely no cause or foundation of its existence, either within, or without. There is a great noise made about self-determining power, as the source of all free acts of the will ; but when the matter comes to be ex- plained, the meaning is, that no power at all is the source of these acts, neither self-determining power, nor any other, but they arise from nothing ; no cause, no power, no influence, being at all concerned in the mat- ter.

However, this very thing, even that the free acts of the will are events which come to pass without a cause, is certainly implied in the Arminian notion of liberty of will ; though it be very inconsistent with many other things in their scheme, and repugnant to some things implied in their notion of liberty. Their opinion im- plies, that the particular determination of volition is without any cause ; because they hold the free acts of the will to be contingent events; and contingence is essential to freedom in their notion of it. But certain- ly, those things which have a prior ground and rdason of their particular existence, a cause which antecedently determines them to be, and determines them to be just as they are, do not happen contingently. If something foregoing, by a casual influence and connection, deter- mines and fixes precisely their coming to pass, and the manner of it, then it does not remain a contingent thing whether they shall come to pass or no.

And, because it is a question, in many respects, very important in this controversy about the freedom of will, whether the free acts of the wilt are events which come to pass without a cause ? I shall be particular in examining this point in the two following sections.

48 Supposed Evasions considered. [Part II.

SECTION III.

Whether any Event whatsoever, and Volition in particular, can come to pass without a Cause of its existence.

BEFORE I enter on any argument on this subject, I would explain how. I would be understood, when I use the word Cause in this discourse : since, for want of a better word, I shall have occasion to use it in a sense which is more extensive than that in which it is some- times used. The word is often used in so restrained a sense as to signify only that which has a positive efficiency or influence to produce a thing, or bring it to pass. But there are many things which have no such positive productive influence ; which yet are causes in that re- spect, that they have truly the nature of a ground or reason why some things are, rather than others ; or why they are as they are, rather than otherwise. Thus the absence of the sun in the night, is not the Cause of the falling of the dew at that time, in the same manner as its beams are the Cause of the ascending of the vapours in the day-time, and its withdrawment in the winter, is not in the same manner the Cause of the freezing of the waters, as its approach in the spring is the cause of their thawing. But yet the withdrawment or absence of the sun is an antecedent, with which these effects in the night and winter are connected, and on which they depend ; and is one thing that belongs to the ground and reason why they come to pass at that time, rather than at any other times ; though the absence of the sun is nothing positivey.nor has any positive influence.

It may be further observed, that when I speak of connection of Causes and Effects, I have respect to moral Causes, as well as those that are called natural, in distinction from them. Moral Causes may be Causes in as proper sense, as any Causes whatsoever; may have as real an influence, and may as truly be the ground and reason of an Event's coming to pass.

1

Sect, 111.] No Event without a Cause. 49

Therefore, I sometimes use the word Cause in this enquiry, to signify any antecedent, either natural or moral, positive or negative, on which an event, either a thing-, or the manner and circumstance of a thing, so depends^ that it is the ground and reason, either in whole or ii part, why it is, rather than not ; or why it is as it i§j rather than otherwise, or, in other words, any antecedent*-' with which a consequent event is so connected, that it truly belongs to the reason why the proposition which affirms that Event, is true ; whether it has any posi- tive influence, or not. And in an agreeableness to this, I sometimes use the word Effect for the conse- quence of another thing, which is perhaps rather an oc- casion than a Cause, most properly speaking.

I am the more careful thus to explain my meaning, that 1 may cut off occasion, from any that might seeJ^ occasion to cavil and object against some things W-l^igi I may say concerning the dependence of all things wmcii come to pass, on some Cause, and their connectiofcjffth their Cause. '• s

Having thus explained what I mean by Cause, I as- sert, that nothing ever comes to pass without a cause, % What is self-existent must be from eternity, and must be unchangeable : but as to all things that begin to be, they are not self-existent, and therefore must have some

foundation of their existence without themselves. 1

That whatsoever begins to be, which before was not, must have a Cause why it then begins to exist, seems . to be the first dictate of the common and natural sens,e which God hath implanted in the minds of all mankind, and the main foundation of all our reasonings about the existence of things, past, present, or to come.

And this dictate of common sense equally respected substances and modes, or things and the manner and circumstances of things. Thus, if we see a body which has hitherto been at rest, start out of a state of rest, and begin to move, we do as naturally and necessarily sup- pose there is some Cause or reason of this new mode of

:>•••

F .:...*&

50 No Event without a Cause. [Part II.

existence, as of the existence of a body itself which had hitherto not existed. And so, if a body which had hitherto moved in a certain direction, should suddenly change the direction of its motion ; or if it should put off its old figure, and take a new one ; or change its colour: the beginning of these new modes is a new Event, and the mind of mankind necessarily supposes that there is some Cause or reason of them.

If this grand principle of common sense be taken a- way, all arguing from effects to Causes ceaseth, and so all knowledge of any existence, besides what we have by the most direct and immediate intuition. Particularly all our proof of the being of God ceases : we argue His being from our own being, and the being of other things, which we are sensible once were not, but have begun to be ; and from the being of the'world, with all its con- stituent parts, and the manner of their existence; all which we see plainly are not necessary in their own na- ture, and so not self-existent, and therefore must have a Cause. But if things, not in themselves necessary, may begin to be without a Cause, all this arguing is vain.

Indeed, I will not affirm, that there is in the nature of things no foundation for the knowledge of the Being of God, without any evidence of it from His works. I do suppose there is a great absurdity, in the nature of things simply considered, in supposing that there should be no God, or in denying Being in general, and supposing an eternal, absolute, universal nothing : and therefore that here would be foundation of intuitive evidence that it cannot be, and that eternal infinite most perfect Be- ing must be ; if we had strength and comprehension of mind sufficient, to have a clear idea of general and uni- versal Being, or, which is the same thing, of the infinite, eternal, most perfect Divine Nature and Essence. But then we should not properly come to the knowledge of the Being of God by arguing '; but our evidence would be intuitive : we should see it, as we see other things that are necessary in themselves, the contraries of which

I

Sect. III.] No Event without a Cause. 5T

are in their own nature absurd and contradictory ; as we see that twice two is four ; and as we see that a circle has no angles. If we had as clear an idea of universal infinite entity, as we have of these other things, I sup- pose we should most intuitively see the absurdity of supposing such Being not to be ; should immediately: see there is no room for the question, whether it is pos- sible that Being, in the most general abstracted notion of it, should not be. But we have not that strength and extent of mind, to know this certainly in this intui- tive independent manner : but the way that mankind come to the knowledge of the Heing of God, is that which the apostle speaks of, Rom. i. 20. The invisi- ble things of Him, from the creation of the world, are clearly seen ; being understood by the things that are made ; even his eternal Power and Godhead. We first ascend, and prove a posteriori, or from effects, that there must be an eternal Cause ; and then, secondly,, proved by argumentation, not intuition, that this Being must be necessarily existent ; and then, thirdly, from, the proved necessity of his existence, we may descend, and prove many of his perfections a priori*

But if once this grand principle of common sense be given up, that what is not necessary in itself, must have a Cause ; and we begin to maintain, that things may come into existence, and begin to be, which heretofore have not been, of themselves, without any cause ; all our means of ascending in our arguing from the creature to the Creator, and all our evidence of the Being of God, is cut of at one blow. In this case, we cannot prove that there is a God, either from the Being of the world, and the creatures in it, or from the manner of their being, their order, beauty and use. For if things may come into existence without any Cause at all, then they doubtless may without any Cause answerable to the "effect. Our minds do alike naturally suppose and determine both these things ; namely, that what begins to be as a Cause, and also that it has a Cause proportion- able and agreeable to the effect. The same principle.

52 No Event without a Cause. [Part II.

which leads us to determine, that there cannot be any thing coming to pass without a Cause, leads us to de- termine that there cannot 5e more in the effect than in the Cause. *

Yea, if once it should be allowed, that things may come to pass without a cause, we should not only have no proof of the Being of God, but we should be without evidence of the existence of any thing whatsoever, but our own immediately present ideas and consciousness. For we have no way to prove any thing else, but by arguing from effects to Causes : from the ideas now im- mediately in view, we argue other things not immediate- ly in view ; from sensations now excited in us, we infer the existence of things without us, as the Causes of these sensations : and from the existence of these things, we argue other things, which they depend on, as effects on Causes. We infer the past existence of ourselves, or any thing else, by memory ; only as we argue, that the ideas, which are now in our minds, are the conse- quences of past ideas and sensations. We immediately perceive nothing else but the ideas which are this mo- ment extant in our minds. We perceive or know other things only by means of these, as necessarily connected with others, and dependent on them. But if things may be without Causes, all this necessary connection and de- pendence is dissolved, and so all means of our knowledge is gone. If there be no absurdity or difficulty in sup- posing one thing to start out of non-existence, into being, of itself without a Cause ; then there is no absurdity or difficulty in supposing the same of millions of millions. For nothing, or no difficulty multiplied, still is nothing, or no difficulty : nothing multiplied by nothing, does not increase the sum.

And indeed, according to the hypothesis I am oppos- ing, of the acts of the will coming to pass without a Cause, it is the case in fact, that millions of millions of events are continually coming into existence contingent- ly without any cause or reason why they do so, all over the world, every day and hour, through all ages. So it

1

Sect. III.] No Event without a Cause. 53

is in a constant, succession, in every moral agent. This contingency, this efficient nothing, this effectual No- Cause, is always ready at hand, to produce this sort of effects, as long as the agent exists, and as often as he has occasion.

If it were so, that things only of one kind : viz. acts of the will, seemed to come to pass of themselves ; but those of this sort in general came into being thus ; and it were an event that was continual, and that happened in a course, wherever there were capable subjects of such events ; this very thing would demonstrate that there was some Cause of them, which made such a difference between this event and others, and that they did not really happen contingently. For contingence is blind, and does not pick and choose for a particular sort of Events. Nothing has no choice. This No-Cause, which causes no existence, cannot cause the existence which comes to pass, to be of one particular sort only, distinguished from all others. Thus, that only one sort of matter drops out of the heavens, even water, and that this comes so often, so constantly and plentifully, all over the world, in all ages, shews that there is some Cause or Reason of the falling of water out of the heavens ; and that something besides mere contingence has a hand in the matter.

If we should suppose Non-entity to be about to bring forth ; and things were coming into existence, without any Cause or Antecedent, on which the existence, or kind, or manner of existence depends , or which could at all determine whether the things should be ; stones, or stars, or beasts, or angels, or human bodies, or souls, or only some new motion or figme in natural bodies, or some new sensations in animals, or new ideas in the hu- man understanding, or new volitions in the will ; or any thing else of all the infinite number of possibles ; then certainly it would not be expected, although many millions of millions of things are coming into existence in this manner, all over the face of the earth, that they should ail be only of one particular kind, and that it should be 3

54 No Event without a Cause. [Part II.

thus in all ages, and that this sort of existences should never fail to come to pass where there is room for them, or a subject capable of them, and that constantly, when- ever there is occasion for them.

If any should imagine, there is something in the sort of Event that renders it possible for it to come into ex- istence without a Cause, and should say, that the free acts of the will are existences of an exceeding different nature from other things ; by reason of which they may come into existence without any previous ground or reason of it, though other things cannot: if they make this objection in good earnest, it would be an evidence of their strangely forgetting themselves : for they would be giving an account of some ground of the existence of a thing, when at the same time they would maintain there is no ground of its existence. Therefore I would observe, that the particular nature of existence, be it never so diverse from others, can lay no foundation for that thing's coming into existence without a Cause ; be- cause to suppose this, would be to suppose the particular nature of existence to be a thing prior to the existence, and so a thing which makes way for existence, with such a circumstance ; namely, without a cause or reason of existence. But that which in any respect makes way for a thing's coming into being, or for any manner or circumstance of its first existence, must be prior to the existence. The distinguished nature of the effect, which is something belonging to the effect, cannot have influence backward, to act before it is. The peculiar nature of that thing called volition, can do no- thing, can have no influence, while it is not. And afterwards it is too late for its influence : for then the thing has made sure of existence already, without its help.

So that it is indeed as repugnant to reason, to suppose that an act of the will should come into existence with- out a cause, as to suppose the human soul, or an angel, or the globe of the earth, or the whole universe, should come into existence without a cause. And if once we

Sect. IV.] No Event without a Cause. 55

allow, that such a sort of effect as a Volition may come to pass without a Cause, how do we know but that many other sorts of effects may do so too ? It is not the par- ticular kind of effect that makes the absurdity of suppos- ing it has been without a Cause, but something which is common to all things that ever begin to be ; viz. That they are not self-existent, or necessary in the nature of things.

SECTION IV.

Whether Volition can arise without a Cause, through the Activity of the Nature of the Soul,

fTlHE author of the Essay on the Freedom of the Witt ■*- in God and the Creatures, in answer to that objection against his doctrine of a self-determining power in the will, (p. 68, 69.) That nothing is, or comes to pass, without a sufficient reason why it is, and why it is in this manner rather than another, allows that it is thus in cor- poreal things, which are properly and philosophically speaking, passive beings ; but denies that it is thus in spirits, which are beings of an active nature, who have the spring of action within themselves, and can determine themselves : by which it is plainly supposed, that such an event is an act of the will, may come to pass in a spirit, without a sufficient reason why it comes to pass, or why it is after this manner, rather than another ; by reason of the activity of the nature of a spirit. But certainly this author, in this matter, must be very unwary and inad- vertent. For, J

1. The objection or difficulty proposed by this author, seems to be forgotten in his answer or solution. The very difficulty, as he himself proposes it, is this; How an event can come to pass without a sufficient reason why

56 No Event without a Cause. [Part II.

it is9 or why it is in this manner rather than another ? Instead of solving this difficulty, or answering this ques- tion with regard to Volition, as he proposes, he forgets himself, and answers another question quite diverse, and wholly inconsistent with this : viz. What is a sufficient reason why it is, and why it is in this manner rather than another ? And he assigns the active being's own determination as the Cause, and a Cause sufficient for the effect; and leaves all the difficulty unresolved, and the question unanswered, which yet returns ; even, How the soul's own determination, which he speaks of, came to exist, and to be what it was without a Cause ? The activity of the soul may enable it to be the Cause of ef- fects ; but it does not at all enable er help it to be the subject of effects which have no cause ; which is the thing this author supposes concerning acts of the will. Activity of nature will no more enable a being to produce effects, and determine the manner of their existence, within itself, without a Cause, than out of itself, in some other being. But if an active being should, through its activity, produce and determine an effect in some exter- nal object, how absurd would it be to say, that the effecfr was produced without a Cause !

2. The question is not so much, How a spirit endow- ed with activity comes to act, as why it exerts such an act, and not another ; or why it acts with such a particu- lar determination ? If activity of nature be the Cause why a spirit (the soul of man for instance) acts, and does not lie still ; yet that alone is not the Cause why its ac- tion is thus and thus limited, directed and determined. Active nature is a general thing ; it is an ability or ten- dency of nature to action generally taken : which may be a Cause why the soul acts as occasion or reason is given *, but this alone cannot be a sufficient Cause why the soul exerts such a particular act, at such a time, rather than others. In order to this, there must be something besides a general tendency to action ; there must also be a particular tendency to that individual ac- tion.— If it should be asked, why the soul of man uses

Sect IV.] Volition not without a Cause. 57

its activity in such a manner as it does ; and it should be answered, that the soul uses its activity thus, rather than otherwise, because it has activity ; would such an answer satisfy a rational man ? Would it not rather be looked upon as a very impertinent one ?

3. An active being- can bring no effects to pass by his activity, but what are consequent upon his acting : he produces nothing by his activity, any other way, than by the exercise of his activity, and so nothing but the fruits of its exercise : he brings nothing to pass by a dormant activity. But the exercise of his activity is action ; and so his action, or exercise of his activity, must be prior to the effects of his activity. If an active being produces an effect in another being, about which his activity is conversant, the effect being the fruit of his activity, his activity must be first exercised or exerted, and the effect of it must follow. So it must be, with equal reason, if the active being is his own object, and his activity is conversant about himself, to produce and determine some effect in himself; still the exercise of his activity must go before the effect, which he brings to pass and determines by it. And therefore his activity cannot be the Cause of the determination of the first action, or ex- ercise of activity itself, whence the effects of activity arise ; for that would imply a contradiction ; it would be to say, the first exercise of activity is before the first ex- ercise of activity, and is the cause of it.

4- That the soul, though an active substance, cannot diversify its own acts, but by first acting ; or be a deter- mining Cause of different acts, or any different effects, sometimes of one kind, and sometimes of another ', any other way than in consequence of its own diverse acts, is manifest by this : that if so, then the same Cause, the same causal Power, Force or Influence, without varia- tion in any respect, would produce different effects at different times. For the same substance of the soul be- fore it acts, and the same active nature of the soul before it is exerted (t. e. before in the order of nature) would be the Cause of different effects ; viz. different Volitions

58 Volition not without a Cause, [Pat t II.

at different times. But the substance of the soul before it acts, and its active nature before it is exerted, are the same without variation. For it is some act that makes the first variation in the Cause, as to any causal exer- tion, force or influence, but if it be so, that the soul has no different causality, or diverse causal force or influence, in producing these diverse effects; then it is evident, that the soul has no influence, no hand in the diversity of the effect ; and that the difference of the effect can- not be owing to any thing in the soul ; or, which is the same thing, the soul does not determine the diversi- ty of the effect; which is contrary to the supposition.-— It is true, the substance of the soul before it acts, and before there is any difference in that respect, may be in a different state and circumstances ; but those whom I oppose, will not allow the different circumstances of the soul to be the determining Causes of the acts of the will, as being contrary to their notion of self-determination and self-motion.

5. Let us suppose as these divines do, that there are no acts of the soul, strictly speaking, but free Volitions, then it will follow, that the soul is an active being in no- thing further than it is a voluntary or elective being ; and whenever it produces effects actively, it produces effects voluntarily and electively. But to produce effects thus, is the same thing as to produce effects in conse* quence of and according to, its own choice. And if so,, then surely the soul does not by its activity produce all its own acts of will or choice themselves : for this, by the supposition, is to produce all its free acts of choice voluntarily and electively, or in consequence of its own free acts of choice, which brings the matter directly to the forementioned contradiction, of a free act of choice before the first free act of choice. According to these gentlemens own notion of action, if there arises in the mind a Volition without a free act of the will or choice to determine and produce it, the mind is not the active voluntary Cause of that Volition ; because it does not arise from, nor is regulated by choice, or design : and

Sect. IV.] Volition not ivithout a Cause. 59

therefore it cannot be, that the mind should be the active, voluntary, determining Cause of the first and leading; Volition that relates to the affair. The mind's being a designing Cause, only enables it to pro- duce effect in consequence of its design : it will not enable it to be the designing Cause of all its own de- signs. The mind's being an elective Cause, will only enable it to produce effects in consequence of its elec- tions, and according to them ; but cannot enable it to be the elective Cause of all its own elections ; because that supposes an election before the first election. So the mind's being an active Cause enables it to produce ef- fects in consequence of its own acts, but cannot enable it to be the determining Cause of all its own acts, for that is still in the same manner a contradiction : as it sup- poses a determining act conversant about the first act, and prior to it, having a causal influence on its exis- tence and manner of existence.

I can conceive of nothing else that can be meant by the soul's having power to cause and determine its own Volitions, as a being to whom God has given a power of action, but this ; that God has given power to the soul, sometimes, at least, to excite Volitions at its pleasure, or according as H chooses. And this certainly supposes, in all such cases, a choice preceding all Volitions which are thus caused, even the first of them ; which runs in- to the forementioned great absurdity.

Therefore the activity of the nature of the soul af- fords no relief from the difficulties which the notion of a self-determining power in the will is attended with, nor will it help, in the least, its absurdities and incon- sistences.

60 These Evasiotis impertinent. [Part II

SECTION V.

Shewing, that if the things asserted in these Evasions should be supposed to be true, they are altogether impertinent, and cannot help the cause of Arminian liberty ; and how (this being the state of the case) Arminian Writers are oblig- ed to talk inconsistent ly \

w;

HAT was last observed in the preceding section may shew, not only that the active nature of the soul cannot be a reason why an act of the will is, or why it is in this manner, rather than another; but also, that if it could be so, and it could be proved that Volitions are contingent events, in that sense, that their being and manner of being is not fixed or determined by any cause, or any thing antecedent ; it would not at all serve the purpose of Arminians, to establish the Free- dom of the Will, according to their notion of its freedom as consisting in the will's determination of itself ; which supposes every free act of the will to be determin- ed by some act of the will going before to determine it; inasmuch as for the will to determine a thing, is the same as for the soul to determine a thing by willing ; and there is no way that the will can determine an act of the will, than by willing that act of the will, or, which is the same thing, choosing it. So that here must be two acts of the will in the case, one going before another, one conversant about the other, and the latter the object of the former, and chosen by the former. If the will does not cause and determine the act by choice, it does not cause or determine it at all ; for that which is not determined by choice, is not determined voluntarily or willingly : and to say, that the will determines some- thing which the soul does not determine willingly, is as much as to say, that something is done by the will, which the soul doth not with its will.

So that if Arminian liberty of will, consisting in the

Sect. V.] These Evasions Impertinent. 6 1

will's determining its own acts, be maintained, the old absurdity and contradiction must be maintained, that every free act of will is caused and determined by a foregoing free act of will, which doth not consist with the hee acts arising without any cause, and being so contingent, as not to be fixed by any thing foregoing. So that this evasion must be given up, as not at all re- lieving, and as that which, instead of supporting this sort of liberty, directly destroys it.

And if it should be supposed, that the soul determines its own acts of will some other way than by a foregoing act of will ; still it will not help the cause of their liber- ty of will. If it determines them by an act of the un- derstanding, or some other power, then the will does not determine itself; and so the self- determining power of the will is given up. And what liberty is there ex- ercised, according to their own opinion of liberty, by the. soul's being determined by something besides its own, choice f The acts of the will, it is true, may be directed, and effectually determined and fixed ; but it is not done by the souPs own will and pleasure : there is no exer- cise at all of choice or will in producing the effect; and if will and choice are not exercised in it, how is the liberty of the will exercised in it?

So, that let Arminians turn which way they please with their notion of liberty, consisting in the will's de- termining its own acts, their notion destroys itself. If they hold every free act of will to be determined by the soul's own free choice, or foregoing free act of will ; foregoing, either in the order of time, or nature ; it im- plies that gross contradiction, that the first free act be- longing to the affair, is determined by a free act which is before it. Or if they say that the free acts of the will are determined by some other act of the soul, and not an act of will or choice ; this also destroys the notion of li- berty consisting in the acts of the will being determined by the will itself; or if they hold that the acts of the will are determined by nothmg at all that is prior to Q

62 These Evasions Impertinent. [Part II.

them, but that they are contingent in that sense, that they are determined and fixed by no cause at all ; this also destroys their notion ofliberty, consisting in the will's determining its own acts.

This being the true state of the Arminian notion of liberty, it hence comes to pass, that the writers that de- fend it are forced into gross* inconsistences, in what they say upon this subject. To instance in Dr Whitby ; he, in his discourse on the freedom of the will *, opposes the opinion of the Calvinitts, who place man's liberty only in a power of doing what he will, as that wherein they plainly agree with Mr Hohbes. And yet he himself mentions the very same notion of liberty, as the dictate of Me sense and common reason of mankind, and a rule laid down by the light of nature ; viz. that liberty is a power of acting from ourselves, or DOING WHA T WE WILL *f\ This is indeed, as he says, a thing agreeable to the sense and common reason of mankind ; and therefore it is not so much to be wondered at, that he unawares acknowledges it against himself: for, if liberty does not consist in this, what else can be devised that it should consist in ? If it be said, as Dr Whitby elsewhere insists, that it does not only consist in liberty of doing what we will, but also a liberty of willing, with- out necessity ; still the question returns, What does that liberty of willing, without necessity consist in, but in a power of willing as we please, without being impeded by a contrary necessity ; or, in other words, a liberty for the soul in its willing to act according to its own choice f Yea, this very thing the same author seems to allow and suppose again and again, in the use he makes of sayings of the Fathers, whom he quotes as his vouchers. Thus he cites the words of Origen, which he produces as a tes- timony on his side j; 1 'he soul ( acts by HER OWN CHOICE, and it is free for her to incline to whatever

• In Ins Book on the five Points. Second Edit. p. 350, 351, 352. t Ibid. 325, 326'. t In his Book on the five Points. Second Edit. p. 342.

Sect. V".] These Evasions impertinent. 63

part SHE WILL. And those words of Justin Martyr* : The doctrine of the Christians is this, that nothing is done or suffered according to fate, but that every man doth good or evil ACCORDING TO HIS OWN FREE CHOICE. And from Eusebius, these words f : If fate be established, philosophy and piety are over- thrown ; all these things depending upon the necessity in- troduced by the stars, and not upon meditation and exer- cise PROCEEDING FROM OUR OWN FREE CHOICE. And again, the words -of Maccarius I : God9 to preserve the liberty of mens will, suffered their bodies to die, that it might' be IN THEIR CHOICE to turn to good or evil. They who are acted by the Holy Sjririt, are not held under any necessity, but have liberty to turn themselves, arid DO WHAT THEY WILL in this life.

Thus, the Doctor in effect comes into that very no- tion of liberty, which the Calvinists have ; which he at the same time condemns, as agreeing with the opinion of Mr Hobbes ; namely, the souVs acting by its own choice, mens doing good or evil, according to their own free chow, their being in that exercise wlach proceeds from their own free choice, having it in their choice to turn to good or evil, and doing what they will. So that if men ex- ercise this liberty in the acts of the will themselves, it must be in exerting acts of will as they will, or accord- ing to their own free choice : or exerting acts of will that proceed from their choice. And if it be so, then let every one judge whether this does not suppose a free choice going before the free act of will, or whether an act of choice does not go before that act of the will which pro- ceeds from it. And if it be thus with all free acts of the will, then let every one judge whether it will not follow that there is a free choice or will going before the first free act of the will exerted in the case. And then let every one judge whether this be not a contradiction.

Ibid. p. 360. f Ibid. 3SQ. + Ibid. 309.

64 Arminians talk inconsistently: [Part II.

And, finally, let every one judge whether in the scheme of these writers there be any possibility of avoiding these absurdities. "

If liberty consists, as Dr Whitby himself says, in a man's doing what he will : and a man exereises this li- berty, not only in external actions, but iivthe acts of the will themselves ; then so far as liberty is exercised in the latter, it consists in willing what he wills : and if any say so, one of these two things must be meant, either*; 1. That a man has power to will, as he does will; because what he wills, he wills; and therefore has power to will what he has power to will. If this be their meaning, then all this mighty controversy about freedom of the will and self determining power, comes wholly to nothing; all that is contended for being no more than this ; that the mind of man does what it does, and is the subject of what it is the subject of, — or that what is, is ; wherein none has any controversy with them. Or, 2. The meaning must be, that a man has power to will as he pleases or chooses to will : that is, he has power by one act of choice, to choose another : by an antecedent act of will to choose a consequent act ; and therein to execute his own choice. And if this be their meaning, it is nothing but shuffling with these they dispute with, and baffling their own reason. For still the question returns, Wherein lies man's liberty in that antecedent act of will which chose the consequent act. The answer, according to the same principles, must be, that his liberty in this also lies in his willing as he would, or as he chose, or agreeable to another act of choice preceding that : and so the question returns in infinitum, and the like answer must be made in infini- tum. In order to support their opinion, there must be no beginning, but free acts of will must have been cho- sen by foregoing free acts of will in the soul of every man, without beginning ; and so before he had a being, from all eternity.

Sect. VI,] Of choosing in things indifferent. 6$

SECTION VI.

Concerning the WilVs determining in Things which are perfectly indifferent in the View of the Mind.

A GREAT argument for Self-determining" power, is ^^ the supposed experience we universally have an a- bility to determine our wills, in cases wherein no prevail- ing motive is presented . The Will (as is supposed) has its choice to make between two or more things, that are perfectly equal in the view of the mind ; and the Will is apparently altogether indifferent; and yet we find no difficulty in coming to a choice: the Will can instantly determine itself to one, by a sovereign power which it has over itself, without being moved by any preponderating inducement.

Thus the forementioned author of an Essay on the Freedom of the Will, &c. p. 25, 26, 27, supposes, " That there are many instances, wherein the Will is determined neither by present uneasiness, nor by the greatest apparent good, nor by the last dictate of the understanding, nor by any thing else, but merely by itself, as a sovereign self-determining power of the soul ; and that the soul does not will this or that action, in some cases, by any other influence but because it will. Thus (says he) I can turn my face to the South, or the North ; I can point with my finger upward or down- ward. And thus, in some cases, the Will determines itself in a very sovereign manner, because it will, with- out a reason borrowed from the understanding : and hereby it discovers its own perfect power of choice, ris- ing from within itself, and free from all influence or re- straint of any kind.1' And in pages 669 70, and 73, 74, this author very expressly supposes the Will in many cases to be determined by no motive at alt, and acts al- together without motive, or ground of preference . — Here I would observe,

3

66 Of choosing of things indifferent [Part II.

1. The very supposition which is here made, directly contradicts and overthrows itself. For the thing sup- posed, wherein this grand argument consists, is, that among several things the Will actually chooses one be- fore another, at the same time that it is perfectly indif- ferent; which is the very .same thing as to say, the mind has a preference, at the same that it has no pre- ference. What is meant cannot be, that the mind is indhTerent before it comes to have a choice, or until it has a preference ; or, which is the same thing, that the mind is indifferent until it comes to be not indifferent : for certainly this author did not suppose he had a con- troversy with any person in supposing this. And then it is nothing to his purpose, that the mind which chooses, was indifferent once ; unless it chooses, remaining in- different ; for otherwise, it does not choose at all in that case of indifference, concerning which is all the question. Besides, it appears in fact, that the thing which this author supposes, is not that the Will chooses one thing before another, concerning which it is indif- ferent before it chooses ; but also is indifferent when it chooses ; and that its being otherwise than indifferent is not until afterwards, in consequence of its choice ; that the chosen thing's appearing preferable and more agree- able than another, arises from its choice already made. — His words are, (p. 50.) '< Where the objects which are proposed, appear equally fit or good, the Will is left without a guide or director ; and therefore must take its own choice, by its own determination ; it being properly a sell-determining power. And in such cases the will does as it were make a good to itself by its own choice ; ti e. creates its own pleasure or delight in this self-chosen good. Even as a man by seizing upon a spot of unoc- cupied land, in an uninhabited country, makes it his own possession and property, and as such rejoices in it. Where things were indifferent before, the will find no- thing to make them more agreeable, considered merely in themselves; but the pleasure it feels AK1S1NG FROM ITS OWN CHOICE, and its perseverance

Sect. VI.] Of choosing of things indifferent. 67

therein. We love many things which we have cho- sen, AND PURELY BECAUSE WE CHOOSE THEM.

This is as much as to say, that we first begin to pre- fer many things, now ceasing any longer to be indiffer- ent with respect to them, purely because we have pre- ferred and chosen them before. — These things must needs be spoken inconsiderately by this author. Choice or preference cannot be before itself in the same in- stance, either in order of time or nature. It cannot be the foundation of itself, or the fruit or consequence of itself. The very act of choosing one thing rather than another, is preferring that thing, and that is setting a higher value on that thing. But that the mind sets a higher value on one thing than another, is not, in the first place, the fruit of its setting a higher value on that thing.

This author says, (p. 36.) " The will may be per- fectly indifferent, and yet the will may determine itself to choose one or the other." And again in the same page, " I am entirely indifferent to either j and yet my Will may determine itself to choose." And again, *c Which I shall choose must be determined by the mere act of my Will."" If the choice is determined by a mere act of Will, then the choice js determined by a mere act of choice. And concerning this matter ; viz. That the act of the Will itself is determined by an act of choice, this writer is express, in page 72. Speaking of the case, where there is no superior fitness in objects pre- sented, he has these words : " There it must act by its own CHOICE, and determine itself as it PLEASES." Wrhere it is supposed that the very determination, which is the ground and spring of the Will's act, is an act of choice and pleasure, wherein one act is more agreeable, and the mind better pleased in it than another ; and this preference and superior pleasedness is the ground of all it does in the case. And if so, the mind is not indiffer- ent when it determines itself, but had rather do one thing than another, had rather determine itself one way than another. And therefore the Will does not act at

OS Of choosing of things indifferent [Part II.

all in indifference ; not so much as in the first step it takes, or the first rise and beginning- of its acting". If it be possible for the understanding to act in indifference, yet to be sure the Will never does ; because the WiJPs beginning to act is the very same thing as its beginning to choose or prefer. And if in the very first act of the Will, the mind prefers something, then the idea of that thing preferred, does at that time preponderate, or pre- vail in the mind : or, which is the same thing, the idea of it has a prevailing influence on the Will. So that this wholly destroys the thing supposed, viz. That the mind can by a sovereign power choose one of two or more things, which in the view of the mind are, in every respect, perfectly equal, one of which does not at all preponderate, nor has any prevailing influence on the mind above another.

So that this author, in his grand argument for the ability of the Will to choose one of two, or more things, concerning which it is perfectly indifferent, does at the same time, in effect, deny the' thing he supposes, and allows and asserts the point he endeavours to overthrow ; even that the Will, in choosing, is subject to no pre- vailing influence of the idea, or view of the thing chosen. And indeed it is impossible to offer tlnVargument with- out overthrowing it ; the thing supposed in it being in- consistent with itself, and that which denies itself To suppose the Will to act at all in a state of perfect indif- ference, either to determine itself, or to do any thing- else, is to assert that the mind chooses without choosing fo say that when it is indifferent, it can do as it pleases, is to say that it can follow its pleasure, when it has no pleasure to follow. And therefore if there be any diffi- culty ,n the instances of two cakes, or two eSJ &c which are exactly alike, one as good as another;' con! cerning wh.ch this author supposes the mind in fact has a choice, and so ,n effect supposes that it has a prefer.

aTTt dl3 ,h rT^ himself t0 S0lve the diffi-W>

P o e an tZ , T * °PP°SeS' F°r if these inst— • prose any Hung to his purpose, they prove that a man

Sect. II.] Of choosing of things indifferent, 69

chooses without choice. And yet this is not to his pur- pose; because if this is what he asserts, his own words are as much Pgainst him, and do as much contradict him, as the words of those he disputes against can do.

2. There is no great difficulty in shewing, in such instances as are alledged, not only that it must needs be *o, that the mind must be influenced upon it, but also how it is so. A little attention to our own experience, and a distinct consideration of the acts of our own minds, in such cases, will be sufficient to clear up the matter.

Thus, supposing I have a chess-board before me ; and because I am required by a superior, or desired by a friend, or to make some experiment concerning my own ability and liberty, or on some other consideration, I am determined to touch some one of the spots or squares on the board with my finger ; not being limited or di- rected in the first proposal, or my own first purpose, which is general, to any one in particular ; and there being nothing in the squares in themselves considered, that recommends any one of all the sixty-four, more than another ; in this case, my mind determines to give itself up to what is vulgarly called accident *, by deter- mining to touch that square which happens to be most in view, which my eye is especially upon at that moment, or which happens to be then most in my mind, or which I shall be directed to by some other such-like accident. Here are several steps of the mind's proceeding, (though all may be done as it were in a moment) thefrst step is its general determination that it will touch one of the squares. The next step is another general determination to give itself up to accident, in some certain way ; as to touch that which shall be most in the eye or mind at that time, or to some other such-like accident. The

* I have elsewhere observed wnat that is which is vulgarly called accident ; that it is nothing akin to the Jrminian metaphysical no- tion of contingency something not connected with any thing forego- ing ; but that it is something that comes to pass in the course of things, in some affair that men are concerned in, unforeseen, and not owing to their design.

70 Of the Will's determinig [Part IL

third and last step is a particular determination to touch a certain individual spot, even that square, which, by that sort of accident the mind has pitched upon, has actually oiFered itself beyond others. Now it is apparent that in none of these several steps does the mind pro- ceed in absolute indifference, but in each of them is in- fluenced by a preponderating inducement. So it is in the first step ; the mind's general determination toi touch one of the sixty-four spots ; the mind is not abso- lutely indifferent whether it does so or no ; it is induced-- to it, for the sake of making some experiment, or by the desire of a friend, or some other motive that prevails. So it is in the second step, the mind's determining to give itself up to accident, by touching that which shall be most in the eye, or the idea of which shall be most prevalent in the mind, &c. The mind is not absolute- ly indifferent whether it proceeds by this rule or no ; but chooses it because it appears at that time a conveni- ent and requisite expedient in order to fulfil the general purpose aforesaid. And so it is in the third and last step, it is determining to touch that individual spot which actually does prevail in the mind's view. The mind is not indifferent concerning this ; but is influenced by the prevailing inducement and reason ; which is, that this is a prosecution of the preceding determina- tion, which appeared requisite, and was fixed before in the second step.

Accident will ever serve a man, without hindering him a moment, in such a case. It will always be so among a number of objects in view, one will prevail in the eye, or in idea beyond others. When we have our eyes open in the clear sun-shine, many objects strike the eye at once, and innumerable images may be at onco painted m it by the rays of light ; but the attention of the mind is not equal to several of them at once ; or if it be, lt does not continue so for any time. And so it is with respect to the ideas of the mind in general ; seve-

and lTTe T m CqUal StrenSth in the min^ view and notice at once ; or at least, does not remain so for

Sect. IV.] in Things indifferent. 71

any sensible continuance. There is nothing in the world more constantly varying, than the ideas of the mind . they do not remain precisely in the same state for the least perceivable space of time ; as is evi- dent by this. That all perceivable time is judged and perceived by the mind only by the succession or the successive changes of its own ideas. Therefore while the views or perceptions of the mind remain precisely in the same state, there is no perceivable space or length of time, because no sensible succession at all.

As the acts of the Will, in each step of the foremen- tioned procedure, does not come to pass without a par- ticular cause, every act is owing to a prevailing induce- ment ; so the accident, as I have called it, or that which happens in the unsearchable course of things, to which the mind yields itself, and by which it is guided, is not any thing that comes to pass without a cause ; and the mind in determining to be guided by it, is not determin- ed by something that has no cause, any more than if it determined to be guided by a lot, or the casting of a die. For though the die's falling in such a man- ner be accidental to him that casts it, yet none will suppose that there is no cause why it falls as it does. The involuntary changes in the succession of our ideas, though the cause may not be observed, have as much a cause as the changeable motions of the motes that float in the air, or the continual, infinitely various, successive changes of the unevennesseson the surface of the water. .There are two things especially, which are probably the occasions of confusion in the minds of them who in- sist upon it, that the will acts in a proper indifference, and without being moved by any inducement, in its de- terminations in such cases as have been mentioned.

1. They seem to mistake the point in question, or at least not to keep it distinctly in view. The question they dispute about, is, Whether the mind be indifferent about the objects presented, one of which is to be taken, touched, pointed to, &c. as two eggs, two cakes, which appear equally good. Whereas the question to be con-

72 Of choosing in Things indifferent. [Part II.

sidered is-, Whether the person be indifferent with re- spect to his own actions ; whether he does not, on some consideration or other, prefer one act with respect to these objects before another. The mind in its deter- mination and choice, in these cases, is not most immedi- ately and directly conversant about the objects presented ; but the acts to be done concerning these objects. The objects may appear equal, and the mind may never pro- perly make any choice between them ; but the next act of the will being about the external actions to be per- formed, taking, touching, &c. these may not appear equal, and one action may properly be chosen before another. In each step of the mind's progress, the deter- mination is not about the objects, unless indirectly and improperly, but about the actions, which it chooses for other reasons than any preference of the objects, and for reasons not taken at all from the objects.

There is no necessity of supposing, that the mind does ever at all properly choose one of the objects be- fore another ; either before it has taken, or afterwards. Indeed the man chooses to take or touch one rather than another ; but not because he chooses the thing taken or touched ; but from foreign considerations. The case may be so, that of two things offered, a man may, for certain reasons, choose and prefer the taking of that which he undervalues, and choose to neglect to take that which his mind prefers. In such a case, choosing the tiling taken, and choosing to take, are diverse: and so they are in a case where the things presented are equal in the mind's esteem, and neither of them preferred. All that fact and experience makes evident, is, that the mind chooses one action rather than another. And therefore the arguments which they bring, in order to be to their purpose, ought to be to prove that the mind chooses the action in perfect indifference, with respect to that action ; and not to prove that the mind chooses the action in perfect indifference with respect to the o£- ject ; which is very possible, and yet the will not act at

Sect. VII.] Of Liberty of Indifference. 73

all without prevalent inducement, and proper prepon- deration.

2. Another reason of confusion and difficulty in this matter, seems to be, not distinguishing between a gene- ral indifference, or an indifference with respect to what is to be done in a more distant and general view of it, and a particular indifference, or an indifference with re- spect to the next immediate act, viewed with its particu- lar and present circumstances. A man may be perfect- ly indifferent with respect to his own actions, in the former respect ; and yet not in the latter. Thus, in the foregoing instance of touching one of the squares of a chess-board ; when it is first proposed that I should touch one of them, I may be perfectly indifferent which I touch ; because as yet I view the matter remotely and generally, being but in the first step of the mind's pro- gress in the affair. But yet, when I am actually come to the last step, and the very next thing to be determine ed is, which is to be touched, having already determined that I will touch that which happens to be most in my eye or mind, and my mind being now fixed on a parti- cular one, the act of touching that, considered thus im- mediately, and in these particular present circumstances, is not what my mind is absolutely indifferent about.

SECTION VII.

Concerning the notion of Liberty of Will, con-* sisting in Indifference,

WHAT has been said in the foregoing section, has a tendency in some measure to evince the ab- surdity of the opinion of such as place Liberty in In- difference, or in that equilibrium whereby the Will is without all antecedent determination or bias, and left hitherto free from any prepossessing inclination to one

74 Of Liberty of Indifference. [Part II.

side or the other ; that the determination of the Will to either side may be entirely from kself, and that it may be owing only to its own power, and that sovereign- ty which it has over itself, that it goes this way rather than that*.

But inasmuch as this has been of such long standing, and has been so generally-received, and so much insisted on by Pelagians, Semi- Pelagians, Jesuits, Socinians, Arminians, and others, it may deserve a more full con- sideration ; and therefore I shall now proceed to a more particular and thorough enquiry into this notion.

Now, lest some should suppose that I do not under- stand those that place Liberty in Indifference, or should charge me with misrepresenting their opinion, I would signify, that I am sensihle there are some who, when they talk of the Liberty of the Will as consisting in In- difference, express themselves as though they would not be understood of the Indifference of the inclination or tendency of the will, but of, I know not what, Indiffer- ence of the soul's power of willing ; or that the Will, with respect to its power or ability to choose, is indiffer-

• Dr Whitby, and some other Arminians, make a distinction of different kinds of freedom ; one of God, and perfect spirits above ; another of persons in a state of trial. The former, Dr Whitby allows to consist with necessity ; the latter he holds to be without necessi- ty ; and this latter he supposes to be requisite to our beino- the sub- jects of praise or dispraise, rewards or punishments, precepts and pro- hibitions, promises and threats, exhortations and dehortations, and a covenant-treaty. And to this freedom he supposes indifference to be requisite. In his Discourse on the five Points, p. 299, 300, he savs • —"It is a freedom (speaking of a freedom not only from co-action, but troin necessity) requisite, as we conceive, to render us capable of trial or probation, and to render our actions worthy of praise or dis- praise, and our persons of rewards or punishments." Andin the next page, speaking of the same matter, he says, « Excellent to this pur- pose, are the words of Mr Thomdike :— < We say not, that Indifference ,s requisite to all freedom, but to the freedom of man alone in this state if travail and proflctence: the ground of which is God's tender of a treaty, and conditions of peace and reconcilement to fallen man, together with those precepts and prohibitions, those promises and threats, those exhorta- tion* and dehortations, it is enforced with.' »

Sect. VII.] Of Liberty of Indifference. 7$*

ent, can go cither way indifferently, either to the right hand or left, either act or forbear to act, one as well as the other. Though this seems to be a refining- only of some particular writers, and newly invented, and which will by no means consist with the manner of expression used by the defenders of liberty of indifference in gener- al. And I wish such refiners would thoroughly consider, whether they distinctly know their own meaning-, when they make a distinction between indifference of the soul as to its power or ability of willing or ciioosing, and the souPs indifference as to the preference or choice it- self; and whether they do not deceive themselves in im- agining that they have any distinct meaning at all. The indifference of the soul as to its ability or power to will, must be the same thing as the indifference of the state of the power or faculty of the Will, or the indifference of tiie state which the soul itself, which has that power or faculty, hitherto remains in, as to the exercise of that power, in the choice it shall by and by make.

But, not to insist any longer on the abstruseness and inexplicableness of this distinction ; let what will be sup- posed concerning the meaning of them that make use of it, thus much must at least be intended by Arminians when they talk of Indifference as essential to Liberty of Will, if they intend any thing, in any respect to their purpose, viz. that it is such an indifference as leaves the Will not determined already ; but free from actual pos- session, and vacant of predetermination, so far that there may be room for the exercise of the self-determining power of the Will ; and that the Will's freedom consists in, or depends upon this vacancy and opportunity that is left for the Will itself to be the determiner of the act that is to be the free act.

And here I would observe, in the first place, that, to make out this scheme of Liberty, the indifference must be perfect and absolute ; there must be a perfect freedom from all antecedent preponderation or inclination : — be- cause, if the Will be already inclined, before it exerts its own sovereign power on itself, the iv its inclination is

76 Of Liberty of Indifference. [Part II,

not "holly owing to itself: if, when two opposite* are proposed to the soul for its choice, the proposal does not find the soul wholly in a state of indifference, then it is not found in a state of Liberty for mere self-determina- tion The least degree of an antecedent bias must be inconsistent with their notion of Liberty : for, so long as prior inclination possesses the Will, and is not removed, it binds the Will ; so that it is utterly impossible that the Will should act otherwise than agreeably to it. pure- ly the Will cannot act or choose contrary to a remaining prevailing inclination of the Will. To suppose other- wise, would be the same thing as to suppose, that the Will is inclined contrary to its present prevailing inclin- ation, or contrary to what it is inclined to- That which the Will chooses and prefers, that, all things considered, it preponderates and inclines to. It is equally impossi- ble for the Will to choose contrary to its own remaining and present preponderating inclination, as it is to prefer contrary to its own present preference, or choose contrary to its own present choice. The Will, therefore, so long as it is under the influence of an old preponderating in- clination, is not at liberty for a new free act, or any act that shall now be an act of self-determination. The act, which is a self-determined free act, must be an act which the will determines in the possession and use of such a Liberty, as consists in a freedom from every thing, which, if it were there, would make it impossible that the Will, at that time, should be otherwise than that way to which it tends.

If any one should say, there is no need that the in- difference should be perfect ; but although a former in- clination and preference still remains, yet, if it be not very strong and violent, possibly the strength of the Will may oppose and overcome it. This is grossly absurd ; for the strength of the Will, let it be never so great, does not "at all enable it to act one way, and not the contrary way, both at the same time. It gives it no such sover- eignty and command, as to cause itself to prefer and not

Sect. VII.] Of Liberty of Indifference. 77

to prefer at the same time, or to choose contrary to its own present choice.

Therefore, if there be the least degree of antecedent preponderation of the Will, it must be perfectly aboli- shed, before the Will can be at liberty to determine it- self the contrary way. And if the Will determines it- self the same way, it was not a free- determination , be- cause the will is not wholly at liberty in so doing- : its determination is not altogether from itself but it was partly determined before, in its prior inclination : and ail the freedom of the will exercises in the case, as in an increase of inclination, which it gives itself, over and above what it had by foregoing bias ,• so much is from itself, and so much is from perfect indifference. For, though the will had a previous tendency that way, yet as to that additional degree of inclination, it had no tenden- cy ; therefore the previous tendency is of'no considera- tion, with respect to the act wherein the will is free : so that it comes to the same thing which was said at first, that as to the act of the will, wherein the will is free, there must be perfect indifference, or equilibrium.

To illustrate this: if we should suppose a sovereign, self-moving power in a natural body : but that the body is in motion already, by an antecedent bias j for instance, gravitation towards the centre of the earth ; and has one degree of motion already, by virtue of that previous ten- dency ; but, by its self-moving power, it adds one de- gree more to its motion, and moves so much more swift- ly towards the centre of the earth than it would do by its gravity only : it is evident, that all that is owing to a self-moving power in this case, is the additional degree of motion ; and that the other degree of motion which it had from gravity, is of no consideration in the case, does not help the effect of the free self moving power in the least : the effect is just the same, as if the body had received from itself one degree of motion from a state of perfect rest : so if we should suppose a self-moving power given to the scale of a balance, which has a weight, of one degree beyond the opposite scale ; and" we ascribe 3

78 Of Liberty of Indifference. [Part II.

to it an ability to add to itself another degree of force the same way by its self-moving power ; this is just the same thing as to ascribe to it a power to give itself one degree of preponderation from a perfect equilibrium ; and so much power as the scale has to give itself an over- balance from a perfect equipoise, so much self-moving, self-preponderaling power it has, and no more: so that its free power this way is always to be measured from perfect equilibrium.

I need say no more to prove, that if indifference be essential to liberty, it must be perfect indifference; and that so far as the will is destitute of this, so far it is des- titute of that freedom by which it is its own master, and in a capacity of being its own determiner, without being at all passive, or subject to the power and sway of some- thing else, in its motions and determinations*

Having observed these things, let us now try whether this notion of the liberty of Will consisting in indiffer- ence and equilibrium, and the will's self-determination in such a state, be not absurd and inconsistent.

And here I would lay down this as an axiom of un- doubted truth ; that every free act is done in a state of freedom, and not only after such a state. If an act of the will be an act wherein the soul is free, it must be exerted in a state of freedom, and in the time of freedom. It will not suffice, that the act immediately follows a. state of liberty ; but liberty must yet continue, and co- exists with the act ; the soul remaining in possession of liberty. Because that is the notion of a free act of the soul, even an act wherein the soul uses or exercises li- berty. But if the soul is not, in the very time of the act, in the possession of liberty, it cannot at that time be in the use of it.

Now the question is, whether ever the soul of man puts forth an act of will, while it yet remains in a state o liberty, in that notion of a state of liberty, viz. as im- plying a stale of indifference ; or whether the soul ever exerts an act of choice or preference, while at that very time the w>ll is in a perfect equilibrium, not inclining

Sect. VII.] Of Liberty of Indifference, 79

one way more than another. The very putting of the question is sufficient to shew the absurdity of the affirm- ative answer : for how ridiculous would it be for any body to insist, that the soul chooses one thing before another, when at the very same instant it is perfectly indifferent with respect to each ! This is the same thing as to say, the soul prefers one thing to another, at the very same time that it has no preference. — Choice and preference can no more be in a state of indifference, than motion can be in a state of rest, or than the preponder- ation of the scale of a balance can be in a state of equi- librium. Motion may be the next moment after rest -r but cannot co-exist with it, in any, even the least part of it. So choice may be immediately after a stale of in- difference, but has no co-existence with it: even the, very beginning of it is not in a state of indifference.-— And therefore if this be liberty, no act of the will, in any degree, is ever performed in a state of liberty, or in the time of liberty. Volition and liberty are so far from agreeing together, and being essential one to another, that they are contrary one to another, and one ex- cludes and destroys the other, as much as motion and rest, light and darkness, or life and death. So that the will acts not at all, does not so much as be- gin to act in the time of such liberty ; freedom is per- fectly at an end, and has ceased to be, at the first mo- ment of action ; and therefore liberty cannot reach the action, to affect or qualify it, or give it a denomination, or any part of it, any more than if it had ceased to be twenty years before the action began. The moment that liberty ceases to be, it ceases to be a qualification of any thing. If light and darkness succeed one another instantaneously, light qualifies nothing after it is gone out, to make any thing lightsome or bright, any more at the first moment of perfect darkness, than months or years after. Life denominates nothing vital at the first moment of perfect death. So freedom, if it consists in, or implies indifference, can denominate nothing free, at the first moment of preference or preponderation. There- fore it is manifest, that no liberty which the soul is pos

T

30 Of Libertt/ of Indifference. [Part II.

sensed of, or ever uses, in any of its acts of volition con- s;sts in indifference ; and that the opinion of such as suppose, that indifference belongs to the very essence of liberty, is to the highest degree absurd and contradic-

fj* anv one should imagine that this manner of arguing; is nothing but a trick and delusion ; and to evade the reasoning, should sav, that the thing wherein the will exercises its liberty, is not in the act ol choice or pre- ponderation itself, but in determining itself to a certain choice or preference; that the act of the Will wherein it is free, and uses its own sovereignty, consists in its causing or determining the change or transition from a state of indifference to a certain preference, or determin- ing to give a certain turn to the balance, which has hitherto been even ; and that this act the will exerts in a state of liberty, or while the will yet remains in equi- librium, and perfect master of itself.— I say, if any one chooses to express his notion of liberty after this, or some such manner, let us see if he can make out his matters any better than before.

What is averted is, that the Will, while it yet re- mains in perfect equilibrium, without preference, deter- mines to change itself from that state, and excite in it- self a certain choice or preference. Now let us see whether this does not come to the same absurdity we had before. If it be so, that the Will, while it yet remains perfectly indiiFerent, determines to put itself out of that state, and give itself a certain preponderation ; then I would enquire, whether the soul does net determine this of choice •, or whether the Will's coming to a determi- nation to do so, be not the same thing as the souPs co- ming to a choice to do so. If the soul does not deter- mine this of choice, or in the exercise of choice, then it does not determine it voluntarily ; and if the soul does not determine it voluntarily, or of its own will, then in what sense does its ivill determine it ? And if the will does not determine it, then how is the Liberty of the Will exercised in the determination? What sort of

Sect. VII. ] Of Liberty of Indifference. 81

will is exercised by the soul in those determinations, wherein there is no exercise of choice, which are not vo- luntary, and wherein the will is not concerned ? But if it be allowed, that this determination is an act of choice, and it be insisted on, that the soul, while it yet remains in a state of perfect Indifference, chooses to put itself out of that state, and so turn itself one way; then the soul is already come to a choice, and chooses that way. And so we have the very same absurdity which we had before. Here is the soul in a state of choice, and in a state of equilibrium, both at the same time : the soul already choosing one way, while it remains in a state of perfect Indifference, and has no choice of one way more than the other ; and indeed this manner of talking-, though it may a little hide the absurdity, in the obscuri- ty of expression, is more nonsensical, and increases the inconsistence. To say, the free act of the will, or the act which the will exerts in a state of freedom and Indif- ference, does not imply preference in it, but as what the will does in order to causing or producing a preference, is as much as to say, the soul chooses (for to will and to choose are the same things) without choice, and prefers without preference, in order to cause or produce the be- ginning of a preference, or the first choice. And that is, that the first choice is exerted without choice, in order to produce itself.

If any, to evade .these things, should own, that a state of Liberty and a state of Indifference are not the same, and that the former may be without the latter ; but should say, that indifference is stiil essential to the freedom of an act of will, in some sort, namely, as it is necessary to go immediately before it, it being essential to the freedom of an act of will that it should directly and immediately arise out of a state of indifference; still this will norhelp the cause of Arminian Liberty, or make it consistent with itself. For if the act springs immediately out of a state of indifference, then it does not arise from ante- cedent choice or preference. But if the act arises direct- ly out of a state of Indifference, without any intervening

82 Of Liberty of Indifference. [Part II.

choice to choose and determine it, then the act not being determined by choice, is not determined by the will ; the mind exercises no free choice in the affair, and free choice and free will have no hand in the determination of the act ; which is entirely inconsistent with their notion of the freedom of Volition.

If any should suppose, that these difficulties and absurdities may be avoided, by saying, that the Liberty of the mind consists in a power to suspend the act of the will, and so to keep it in a state, of Indifference, until there has been opportunity for consideration ; and so shall say, that however Indifference is not essential to Liberty in such a manner, that the mind must make its choice in a state of Indifference, which is an inconsisten- cy, or that the act of the will must spring immediately out of Indifference ; yet Indifference may be essential to the liberty of acts of the will in this respect ; viz. That Liberty consists in a Power of the mind to forbear or suspend the act of Volition, and keep the mind in a state of Indifference for the present, until there has been op- portunity for proper deliberation ; I say, if any one ima- gines that this helps the matter, it is a great mistake : it reconciles no inconsistency, and relieves no difficulty which the affair is attended wLh. For here the follow- ing things mast be observed :

1. That this suspending of Volition, if there be pro- perly any such thing, is itself an act of Volition. If the mind determines to suspend its act, it determines it vol- untarily ; it chooses, on some consideration, to suspend it. And this choice or determination, is an act ol the will ; and indeed it is supposed to be so in the very hy- pothesis : for it is supposed that the Liberty of the will consists in its Power to do this, and that its doing it is the very thing wherein the Will exercises its Liberty. But how can the will exercise Liberty in it, if it be not an act of the will ? The Liberty of the will is not ex- ercised in any thing but what the will does.

2. T his determining to suspend acting is not onlv an act of the will, but it is supposed to be the only free act

Sect. VII.] Of suspending Volition, 83

of the will ; because it is said, that this is the thing wherein the Liberty of the will consists. Now if this be so, then this is all the act of will that we have to con- sider in this controversy, about the Liberty of will, and in our enquiries, wherein the Liberty of man consists. And now the forementioned difficulties remain : the for- mer question returns upon us ; viz. Wherein consists the freedom of the will in those acts wherein it is free ? And if this act of determining a suspension be the only act in which the will is free, then wherein consists the will's freedom with respect to this act of suspension ? And how is indifference essential to this act ? The an- swer must be, according to what is supposed in the evasion under consideration, that the Liberty of the will in this act of suspension, consists in a Power to suspend even this act until there has been opportunity for tho- rough deliberation. But this will be to plunge directly into the grossest nonsense : for it is the act of suspension itself that we are speaking of; and there is no room for a space of deliberation and suspension in order to deter- mine whether we will suspend or no. For that sup- poses, that even suspension itself may be deferred : which is absurd ; for the very deferring the determination of suspension, to consider whether we will suspend or no, will be actually suspending : for, during the space of suspension, to consider whether to suspend, the act is ipso facto suspended. There is no medium between suspending to act, and immediately acting ; and there- fore no possibility of avoiding either the one or the o- ther one moment.

And besides, this is attended with ridiculous absur- dity another way : for now it is come to that, that Li- berty consists wholly in the mind's having Power to sus- pend its determinat on whether to suspend or no: that there may be time for consideration, whether it be best to suspend. And if Liberty consists in this only, then this is the Liberty under consideration : we have to en- quire now, How Liberty, with respect to this act of sus- pending a determination of suspension, consists in Indif-

m

84 Of suspending Volition. [Part II,

ference, or how Indifference is essential to it. Hie answer, according to the hypothesis we are upon, must be, that it consists in a Power of suspending even this last mentioned act, to have time to consider whether to suspend that. And then the same difficulties and en- quiries return over again with respect to that ; and so on for ever ;— which, if it would shew any thing, would shew only that there is no such thing as a free act. It drives the exercise of freedom back in infinitum ; and that is to drive it out of the world.

And besides all this, there is a delusion, and a latent gross contradiction in the affair another way ; inasmuch as in explaining how, or in what respect the will is free with regard to a particular act of Volition, it is said, that its Liberty consists in a Power to determine to suspend that act, which places Liberty not in that act of Volition which the enquiry is about, but altogether in another antecedent act ; which contradicts the thing sup- posed in both the question and answer. The question is, Wherein consists the mind's Liberty in any particu- lar act of Volition ? And the answer, in pretending to shew wherein lies the mind's Liberty in that act* in ef- fect says, it does not lie in that act at all, but in ano- ther, viz. a Volition to suspend that act. And therefore the answer is both contradictory, and altogether imperti- nent and beside the purpose : for it does not shew where- in the Liberty of the will consists in the act in question ; instead of that, it supposes it does not consist in that act at all, but in another distinct from it, even a Voli- tion to suspend that act, and take time to consider of it. And no account is pretended to be given wherein the mind is free with respect to that act, wherein this an- swer supposes the Liberty of the mind indeed consists, viz. the act of suspension, or of determining the suspen- sion.

On the whole, it is exceeding manifest, that the Li- berty of the mind does not consist in indifference, and that indifference is not essential or necessary to it, or at

Sect. VIII.] Of Supposed Liberty. 85

all belonging to it, as the Arminians suppose ; that opinion being full of nothing but absurdity and self-con- tradiction.

SECTION VIII.

Concerning the supposed Liberty of the Will, as opposite to all Necessity.

IT is a thing chiefly insisted on by Arminians, in this controversy, as a thing most important and essential in human liberty, that volitions, or the acts of the will, are contingent events ; understanding contingence as op- posite not only to constraint, but to all necessity ; there- fore 1 would particularly consider this matter. And,

1. I would enquire, Whether there is, or can be anv such thing, as a volition which is contingent in such a sense, as not only to come to pass without any neces- sity of constraint or co-action, but also without a Neces- sity of consequence, or an infallible connection with any thing foregoing.

2. Whether, if it were so, this would at all help the cause of Liberty.

1. I would consider whether volition is a thing that ever does, or can come to pass, in this manner, contin- gently.

And here it must be remembered, that it has been already shewn, that nothing can ever come to pass with- out a cause, or reason why it exists in this manner rather than another ; and the evidence of this has been particu- larly applied to the acts of the will. Now if thi* be so, it will demonstrably follow, that the acts of the will are never contingent, or without necessity in the sense spo- ken of; inasmuch as those things which have a cause, or reason of their existence, must be connected with their cause. This appears by the following considera- tions.

I

86 Of Supposed Liberty [fart If.

1. For an event to have a cause and ground of its existence, and yet not to be connected with its cause, is an inconsistence. For if the event be not connected with the cause, it is not dependent on the cause ; its ex- istence is as it were loose from its influence, and may attend it, or may not ; it being a mere contingence, whether it follows or attends the influence of the cause or not : and that is the same thing as not to be depend- ent on it. And to say, the event is not dependent on its cause is absurd : it is the same thing as to say, it is not its cause, nor the event the effect of it ; for depend- ence on the influence of a cause is the very notion of an effect. If there be no such relation between one thing and another, consisting in the connection and de- pendence of one thing on the influence of another, then it is certain there is no such relation between them as is signified by the terms cause and effect. So far as an event is dependent on a cause and connected with it, so much causality is there in the case, and no more. The cause does, or brings to pass no more in any event, than is dependent on it. If we say, the connection and de- pendence is not total, but partial, and that the effect, though it has some connection and dependence, yet is not entirely dependent on it; that is the same thing as to say, that not all that is in the event is an effect of that cause, but that only part of it arises from thence, and part some other way.

2. If there are some events which are not necessarily connected with their causes, then it will follow, that there are some things which come to pass without any cause, contrary to the supposition. For if there be any event which was not necessarily connected with the influence of the cause under such circumstances, then it was contingent whether it would attend or follow the in- fluence of the cause, or no ; it might have followed, and it might not, when the cause was the same, its influence the same, and under the same circumstances. And if so, why did it follow, rather than not follow ? There is

■1 Sect. VIII.] without all Necessity. %%

no cause or reason of this. Therefore here is something without any cause or reason why it is, viz. the following of the effect on the influence of the cause, with which it was not necessarily connected. If there be a necessary connection of the effect on any thing antecedent, then we may suppose that sometimes the event will follow the cause, and sometimes not, when the cause is the same, and in every respect in the same state and circum- stances. And what can be the cause and reason of this Strange phenomenon, even this diversity, that in one in- stance, the effect should follow, in another not ? It is evident by the supposition, that this is wholiy without any cause or ground. Here is something in the present manner of the existence of things, and state of the world, that is absolutely without a cause. Which is. contrary to the supposition, and contrary to what ha* been before demonstrated;

5. To suppose there are some events which have a cause and ground of their existence, that yet are not necessarily connected with their cause, is to suppose that they have a cause which is not their cause. Thus, if the effect be not necessarily connected with the cause, with its influence, and influential circumstance ; then, as I observed before, it is a thing possible and supposable, that the cause may sometimes exert the same influence, under the same circumstances, and yet the effect not follow. And if this actually happens in any instance, this instance is a proof, in fact, that the influence of the cause is not sufficient to produce the effect. For if it had been sufficient, it would have done it. And yet, by the supposition, in another instance, the same cause, with perfectly the same influence, and when all circum- stances which have any influence, are the same, it was followed with the effect. By which it is manifest, that the effect in this last instance was not owing to the in- fluence of the cause, but