A Philosophical Inquiry Concerning Human Liberty (1890)/Chapter 1

by Anthony Collins

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First argument, wherein our experience is considered.

I. This being a question of fact concerning what we ourselves do, we will first consider our own experience, which, if we can know, as sure we may, will certainly determine this matter. And because experience is urged with great triumph, by the patrons of Liberty, we will begin with a few general reflections concerning the argument of experience; and then we will proceed to our experience itself.

General Reflections on the argument of experience.

1. The vulgar, who are bred up to believe Liberty or Freedom, think themselves secure of success, constantly appealing to experience for a proof of their freedom, and being persuaded that they feel themselves free on a thousand occasions. And the source of their mistake, seems to be as follows. They either attend not to, or see not the causes of their actions,^[1] especially in matters of little moment, and thence conclude they are free, or not moved by causes, to do what they do.

They also frequently do actions whereof they repent; and because in the repenting humor they find no present motive to do those actions, they conclude that they might not have done them at the time they did them, and that they were free from necessity (as they were from outward impediments) in the doing them.

They also find that they can do as they will, and forbear as they will, without any external impediment to hinder them from doing as they will; let them will either doing or forbearing. They likewise see that they often change their minds; that they can, and do choose differently every successive moment; and that they frequently deliberate, and thereby are sometimes at a near balance, and in a state of indifference with respect to judging about some propositions, and willing or choosing with respect to some objects. And experiencing these things they mistake them for the exercise of Freedom, or Liberty from Necessity. For ask them whether they think themselves free, and they will immediately answer, Yes; and say some one or other of these foregoing things, and particularly think they prove themselves free when they affirm they can do as they will.

Nay, celebrated philosophers and theologers, both ancient and modern, who have meditated much on this matter, talk after the same manner, giving definitions of Liberty that are consistent with Fate or Necessity; though, at the same time, they would be thought to exempt some of the actions of man from the power of Fate, or to assert Liberty from Necessity. Cicero defines Liberty to be a power to do as we will.^[2] And therein several moderns follow him. One defines Liberty to be a power to act, or not to act, as we will.^[3] Another defines it in more words thus: “A power to do what we will, and because we will; so that if we did not will it, we should not do it; we should even do the contrary if we willed it.”^[4] And another: “A power to do or forbear an action, according to the determination or thought of the mind, whereby either is preferred to the other.”^[5] On all which definitions, if the reader will be pleased to reflect, he will see them to be only definitions of Liberty or Freedom from outward impediments of action, and not a Freedom or Liberty from Necessity; as I also will show them to be in the sequel of this discourse, wherein I shall contend equally with them for such a power as they describe, though I affirm that there is no Liberty from Necessity.

Alexander the Apbrodisæan^[6] (a most acute philosopher of the second century, and the earliest commentator now extant upon Aristotle, and esteemed his best defender and interpreter) defines Liberty to be “A power to choose what to do after deliberation and consultation, and to choose and do what is most eligible to our reason; whereas otherwise we should follow our fancy.”^[7] Now a choice after deliberation, is a no less necessary choice than a choice by fancy. For though a choice by fancy, or without deliberation, may be one way, and a choice with deliberation may be another way, or different; yet each choice being founded on what is judged best, the one for one reason and the other for another, is equally necessary; and good or bad reasons, hasty or deliberate thoughts, fancy or deliberation, make no difference.

In the same manner Bishop Bramhall,^[8] who has written several books for Liberty, and pretends to assert the Liberty taught by Aristotle, defines Liberty thus: He says, “That act which makes a man’s actions to be truly free, is election; which is the deliberate choosing or refusing of this or that means, or the acception of one means before another, where divers are represented by the understanding.”^[9] And that this definition places Liberty wholly in choosing the seeming best means, and not in choosing the seeming worst means, equally with the best, will appear from the following passages. He says, “Actions done in sudden and violent passions, are not free; because there is no deliberation nor election. To say the will is determined by motives, that is, by reasons or discourses, is as much as to say that the agent is determined by himself or is free. Because motives determine not naturally but morally; which kind of determination is consistent with true Liberty. Admitting that the will follows necessarily the last dictate of the understanding, this is not destructive of the Liberty of the will; this is only an hypothetical necessity.” So that Liberty with him consists in choosing or refusing necessarily after deliberation; which choosing or refusing is morally and hypothetically determined, or necessary by virtue of the said deliberation.

Lastly, a great Armenian theologer, who has writ a course of Philosophy and entered into several controversies on the subject of Liberty, makes Liberty to consist in “an indifferency of mind while a thing is under deliberation”^[10] “For,” says he, “while the mind deliberates it is free till the moment of action; because nothing determines it necessarily to act or not to act.” Whereas when the mind balances or compares ideas or motives together, it is then no less necessarily determined to a state of indifferency by the appearances of those ideas and motives, than it is necessarily determined in the very moment of action. Were a man to be at liberty in this state of indifferency he ought to have it in his power to be not indifferent, at the same time that he is indifferent.

If experience therefore proves the Liberty contended for by the foregoing asserters of Liberty, it proves men to have no Liberty from Necessity.

2. As the foregoing asserters of Liberty give us definitions of Liberty, as grounded on experience, which are consistent with Necessity, so some of the greatest patrons of Liberty do by their concessions in this matter sufficiently destroy all argument from experience.

Erasmus, in his treatise for Free-will against Luther, says, That among the difficulties which have exercised the theologers and philosophers of all ages, there is none greater than the question of free-will.^[11] And M. Le Clerc, speaking of this book of Erasmus, says that the question of free-will was too subtle for Erasmus, who was no philosopher; which makes him often contradict himself.^[12]

The late Bishop of Sarum,^[13] though he contends, Every man experiences Liberty; yet owns that great difficulties attend the subject on all hands, and that therefore he pretends not to explain or answer them.

The famous Bernard Ochin, a great Italian wit, has written a most subtle and ingenious book, entitled, Labyrinths concerning Free-will and Predestination, etc., wherein he shows that they who assert that man acts freely are involved in four great difficulties; and that those who assert that man acts necessarily, fall into four other difficulties. So that he forms eight labyrinths, four against Liberty and four against Necessity. He turns himself all manner of ways to get clear of them; but not being able to find any solution, he constantly concludes with a prayer to God to deliver him from these abysses. Indeed, in the progress of his work, he endeavors to furnish means to get out of this prison; but he concludes that the only way is to say, with Socrates, Hoc unum scio quod nihil scio. We ought, says he, to rest contented, and conclude that God requires neither the affirmative nor negative of us. This is the title of his last chapter, Quâ viâ ex omnibus supradictis Labyrinthis citò exiri possit, quæ doctæ ignorantiæ via vocatur.

A famous author,^[14] who appeals to common experience for a proof of Liberty, confesses that the question of Liberty is the most obscure and difficult question in all philosophy; that the learned are fuller of contradictions to themselves, and to one another, on this than on any other subject: and that he writes against the common notion of Liberty, and endeavors to establish another notion, which he allows to be intricate.

But how can all this happen in a plain matter of fact, supposed to be experienced by everybody? What difficulty can there be in stating a plain matter of fact, and describing what everybody feels? What need of so much philosophy? and why so many contradictions on the subject? And how can all men experience Liberty, when it is allowed that the common notion of Liberty is false, or not experienced; and a new notion of Liberty, not thought on before (or thought on but by few) is set up as matter of experience? This could not happen if matter of fact was clear for Liberty.

3. Other asserters of Liberty seem driven into it on account of supposed inconveniencies attending the doctrine of Necessity. The great Episcopius, in his Treatise of Free-will, acknowledges in effect that the asserters of Necessity have seeming experience on their side, and are thereby very numerous. They,^[15] as he observes, allege one thing of moment in which they triumph, viz., “that the will is determined by the understanding: and assert that unless it were so the will would be a blind faculty, and might make evil, as evil, its object, and reject what is pleasant and agreeable, and by consequence that all persuasions, promises, reasonings and threats would be as useless to a man as to a stock or a stone.” This he allows to be very plausible, and to have the appearance of probability; to be the common sentiment of the schools; to be the rock on which the ablest defenders of Liberty have split, without being able to answer it; and to be the reason or argument (or rather the matter of experience) which has made men in all ages, and not a few in this age, fall into the opinion of the fatal Necessity of all things. But because it makes all our actions necessary, and thereby, in his opinion, subverts all religion, laws, rewards and punishments, he concludes it to be most certainly false, and religion makes him quit this common and plausible opinion. Thus also many other strenuous asserters of Liberty as well as himself are driven by these supposed difficulties to deny manifest experience. I say manifest experience, for are we not manifestly determined by pleasure or pain, and by what seems reasonable or unreasonable to us, to judge, or will, or act? Whereas could they see that there are not grounds for laws and morality, rewards and punishments, but by supposing the doctrine of Necessity; and that there is no foundation for laws and morality, rewards and punishments, upon the supposition of a man’s being a free agent (as shall evidently and demonstratively appear) they would readily allow experience to be against Free-will and deny Liberty when they should see there was no need to assert it, in order to maintain those necessary things. And as a farther evidence thereof, let any man peruse the discourses written by the ablest authors for Liberty, and he will see (as they confess of one another) that they frequently contradict themselves, write obscurely, and know not where to place Liberty; at least he will see that he is able to make nothing of their discourses, no more than Mr. Locke^[16] was of this treatise of Episcopius, who in all his other writings shows himself to be a clear, strong and argumentative writer.

4. There are others, and those contenders for Liberty, as well as deniers of it, who report the persuasions of men, as to the matter of fact, very differently, and also judge very differently themselves about the fact, from what is vulgarly believed among those who mantain Free-will.

An ancient author speaks thus^[17]: Fate, says he, is sufficiently proved from the general received opinion and persuasion of men thereof. For in certain things, when men all agree, except a few who dissent from them on account of maintaining some doctrines before taken up, they cannot be mistaken. Wherefore Anaxagoras the Clazomenian, though no contemptible naturalist, ought not be judged to deserve any regard, when opposing the common persuasion of all men, he asserts, “That nothing is done by fate; but that it is an empty name.” And according to all authors, recording the opinions of men in this matter, the belief of Fate, to all events, has continued to be the most common persuasion both of philosophers and people; as it is at this day the persuasion of much the greatest part of mankind, according to the relations of voyagers. And though it has not equally prevailed among Christians, as it has, and does, among all other religious parties; yet it is certain, the Fatalists have been and are very numerous among Christians; and the free-will theologers themselves allow,^[18] That some Christians are as great Fatalists, as any of the ancient philosophers were.

The acute and penetrating Mr. Bayle, reports the fact, as very differently understood by those who have thoroughly examined and considered the various actions of man, from what is vulgarly supposed in this matter. Says he,^[19] “They who examine not to the bottom what passes within them, easily persuade themselves that they are free; but they who have considered with care the foundation and circumstances of their actions, doubt of their Freedom, and are even persuaded that their reason and understandings are slaves that cannot resist the force which carries them along.” He says also, in a familiar letter, that “the best proofs alleged for Liberty are, that without it man could not sin; and that God would be the author of evil as well as good thoughts.”^[20]

And the celebrated Mr. Leibniz, that universal genius, on occasion of Archbishop King’s appeal to experience (in behalf of his notion of liberty, viz.^[21] A faculty, which, being indifferent to objects and over-ruling our passions, appetites, sensations, and reason, chooses arbitrarily among objects; and renders the object chosen agreeable, only because it has chosen it) denies that we experience such, or any other Liberty; but contends that we rather experience a determination in all our actions. Says he,^[22] “We experience something in us which inclines us to a choice; and if it happens that we cannot give a reason of all our inclinations, a little attention will show us, that the constitution of our bodies, the bodies encompassing us, the present, or preceding state of our minds, and several little matters comprehended under these great causes, may contribute to make us choose certain objects, without having recourse to a pure indifference, or to I know not what power of the soul, which does upon objects what they say colors do upon the cameleon.” In fine he is so far from thinking that there is the least foundation, from experience, for the said notion of Liberty, that he treats it as a chimera, and compares it to the magical power of the fairies to transform things.

Lastly, the Journalists of Paris are very far from thinking Archbishop King’s notion of Liberty to be matter of experience, when they say that Dr. King not satisfied with any of the former notions of liberty, proposes a new notion; and carries indifference so far as to maintain that pleasure is not the motive, but the effect of the choice of the will; placet res quia eligitur, non eligitur quia placet. This opinion, add they, makes him frequently contradict himself.^[23]

So that upon the whole, the affair of experience, with relation to Liberty, stands thus. Some give the name Liberty to actions, which, when described, are plainly actions that are necessary. Others, though appealing to vulgar experience, yet inconsistently therewith, contradict the vulgar experience, by owning it to be an intricate matter, and treating it after an intricate manner. Others are driven into the defence of Liberty by difficulties imagined to flow from the doctrine of Necessity, combating what they allow to be matter of seeming experience. Others, and those the most discerning, either think Liberty cannot be proved by experience, or think men may see by experience, that they are necessary agents, and the bulk of mankind have always been persuaded that they are necessary agents.

Our experience itself considered.

Having thus paved the way by showing that Liberty is not a plain matter of experience, by arguments drawn from the asserters of Liberty themselves, and by consequence subverted the argument from experience for Liberty; we will now run over the various actions of men which can be conceived to concern this subject, and examine, whether we can know from experience, that man is a free or a necessary agent. I think those actions may be reduced to these four: 1. Perception of Ideas. 2. Judging of Propositions. 3. Willing. 4. Doing as we will.

1. Perception of Idea Of this there can be no dispute but it is a necessary action of man, since it is not even a voluntary action. The ideas both of sensation and reflection, offer themselves to us whether we will or no, and we cannot reject them. We must be conscious that we think, when we do think; and thereby we necessarily have the ideas of reflection. We must also use our senses when awake; and thereby necessarily receive the ideas of sensation. And as we necessarily receive ideas, so each idea is necessarily what it is in our mind; for it is not possible to make any thing different from itself. This first necessary action, the reader will see, is the foundation and cause of all the other intelligent actions of man, and makes them also necessary. For, as a judicious author, and nice observer of the inward actions of man, says truly: “Temples have their sacred images, and we see what influence they have always had over a great part of mankind. But in truth, the ideas and images in men’s minds, are the Invisible Powers that constantly govern them, and to these they universally pay a ready submission.”^[24]

2. The second action of man is judging of propositions. All propositions must appear to me either self-evident, or evident from proof, or probable, or improbable, or doubtful, or false. Now these various appearances of propositions to me, being founded on my capacity, and the degree of light propositions stand in to me, I can no more change those appearances in me than I can change the idea of red raised in me. Nor can I judge contrary to those appearances, for what is judging of propositions but judging that propositions do appear as they do appear? which I cannot avoid doing, without lying to myself, which is impossible. If any man thinks he can judge a proposition, appearing to him evident, to be not evident; or a probable proposition to be more or less probable than it appears by the proofs to be; he knows not what he says, as he may see if he will define his words. The necessity of being determined by appearances was maintained by all the old philosophers, even by the academics or sceptics. Cicero says,^[25] “You must take from a man his senses, if you take from him the power of assenting; for it is as necessary the mind should yield to what is clear, as that a scale hanging on a balance should sink with a weight laid on it. For as all living creatures cannot but desire what is agreeable to their natures, so they cannot but assent to what is clear. Wherefore, if those things whereof we dispute are true, it is to no purpose to speak of assent. For he who apprehends, or perceives anything, assents immediately.” Again, “assent not only precedes the practice of vice, but of virtue, the steady performance whereof and adherence to which depend on what a man has assented to and approved. And it is necessary that something should appear to us before we act, and that we should assent to that appearance. Wherefore he who takes away appearances and assent from man, destroys all action in him.” The force of this reasoning manifestly extends to all the various judgments men make upon the appearance of things. And Cicero, as an academic or sceptic, must be supposed to extend Necessity to every kind of judgment, or assent, of man upon the appearances (or as the Greeks call them Φαινομένα and himself the Visa) of things. Sextus Empiricus says,^[26] “they who say the sceptics take away appearances, have not conversed with them, and do not understand them. For we destroy not the passions, to which our senses find themselves exposed whether we will or no, and which force us to submit to appearances. For when it is asked us whether objects are such as they appear, we deny not their appearances nor doubt of them, but only question whether the external objects are like the appearances.”

3. Willing is the third action of man which I propose to consider. It is matter of daily experience that we begin or forbear, continue or end, several actions barely by a thought, or preference of the mind, ordering the doing or not doing, the continuing or ending, such or such actions. Thus, before we think or deliberate on any subject, as before we get on horseback, we do prefer those things to anything else in competition with them. In like manner, if we forbear these actions when any of them are offered to our thoughts, or if we continue to proceed in any one of these actions once begun, or if at any time we make an end of prosecuting them, we do forbear, or continue, or end them on our preference of the forbearance to the doing of them, of the continuing of them to the ending them, and of the ending to the continuing them. This power of the man thus to order the beginning or forbearance, the continuance or ending of any action, is called the will, and the actual exercise thereof willing.

There are two questions usually put about this matter—first, Whether we are at liberty to will or not to will? secondly, Whether we are at liberty to will one or the other of two or more objects?

1. As to the first, whether we are at liberty to will or not to will, it is manifest we have not that liberty. For let an action in a man’s power be proposed to him as presently to be done, as for example, to walk—the will to walk or not to walk exists immediately. And when an action in a man’s power is proposed to him to be done to-morrow, as to walk to-morrow, he is no less obliged to have some immediate will. He must either have a will to defer willing about the matter proposed, or he must will immediately in relation to the thing proposed, and one or the other of those wills must exist immediately, no less than the will to walk or not to walk in the former case. Wherefore, in every proposal of something to be done which is in a man’s power to do, he cannot but have some immediate will.

Hence appears the mistake of those who^[27] think men at liberty to will, or not to will, because, say they, they can suspend willing, in relation to actions to be done to-morrow; wherein they plainly confound themselves with words. For when it is said man is necessarily determined to will, it is not thereby understood that he is determined to will or choose one out of two objects immediately in every case proposed to him (or to choose at all in some cases—as whether he will travel into France or Holland), but that on every proposal he must necessarily have some will. And he is not less determined to will, because he does often suspend willing or choosing in certain cases; for suspending to will is itself, an act of willing; it is willing to defer willing about the matter proposed. In fine, though great stress is laid on the case of suspending the will to prove Liberty, yet there is no difference between that and the most common cases of willing and choosing upon the manifest excellency of one object before another. For, as when a man wills or chooses living in England before going out of it (in which will he is manifestly determined by the satisfaction he has in living in England) he rejects the will to go out of England; so a man who suspends a will about any matter, wills doing nothing in it at present, or rejects for a time willing about it; which circumstances of wholly rejecting, and rejecting for a time, make no variation that affects the question. So that willing, or choosing suspension, is like all other choices or wills that we have.

2. Secondly, let us now see whether we are at liberty to will or choose one or the other of two or more objects. Now as to this we will first consider whether we are at liberty to will one of two or more objects wherein we discern any difference; that is, where one upon the whole seems less hurtful than another. And this will not admit of much dispute, if we consider what willing is. Willing or preferring is the same with respect to good and evil, that judging is with respect to truth or falsehood. It is judging that one thing is, upon the whole, better than another, or not so bad as another. Wherefore, as we judge of truth or falsehood according to appearances, so we must will or prefer as things seem to us, unless we can lie to ourselves, and think that to be worst which we think best.

An ingenious author expresses this matter well when he says, “the question whether a man be at liberty to will which of the two he pleases, motion or rest, carries the absurdity of it so manifestly in itself that one might hereby be sufficiently convinced that Liberty concerns not the will. For to ask whether a man be at liberty to will either motion or rest, speaking or silence, which he pleases, is to ask whether a man can will what he wills, or be pleased with what he is pleased with. A question that needs no answer.”^[28]

To suppose a sensible being capable of willing or preferring (call it as you please) misery and refusing good, is to deny it to be really sensible; for every man while he has his senses, aims at pleasure and happiness, and avoids pain and misery; and this, in willing actions, which are supposed to be attended with the most terrible consequences. And therefore the ingenious Mr. Norris^[29] very justly observes, that all who commit sin, think it at the instant of commission, all things considered, a lesser evil; otherwise it is impossible they should commit it; and he instances in St. Peter’s denial of his master, who he says, “judged that part most eligible which he choose, that is, judged the sin of denying his master, at that present juncture, to be a less evil than the danger of not denying him; and so chose it. Otherwise, if he had then actually thought it a greater evil, all that whereby it exceeded the other, he would have chosen gratis, and consequently have willed evil as evil, which is impossible.” And another acute philosopher observes^[30], that there are in France many new converts, who go to mass with great reluctance. They know they mortally offend God, but as each offence would cost them (suppose) two pistoles, and having reckoned the charge, and finding that this fine, paid as often as there are festivals and Sundays would reduce them and their families to beg their bread, they conclude it is better to offend God than beg.

In fine, though there is hardly anything so absurd, but some ancient philosopher or other may be cited for it; yet, according to Plato,^[31] none of them were so absurd as to say that men did evil voluntarily; and he asserts that it is contrary to the nature of man to follow evil as evil, and not pursue good; and that when a man is compelled to choose between two evils, you will never find a man who chooses the greatest, if it is in his power to choose the less; and that this is a truth manifest to all.^[32]And even the greatest modern advocates for Liberty allow that whatever the will chooseth, it chooseth under the notion of good; and that the object of the will is good in general, which is the end of all human actions.

This I take to be sufficient to show that man is not at liberty to will one or the other of two or more objects between which (all things considered) he perceives a difference; and to account truly for all the choices of that kind which can be assigned.

But, secondly, some of the patrons of Liberty contend that we are free in our choice among things indifferent, or alike, as in choosing one out of two or more eggs; and that in such cases the man, having no motives from the objects, is not necessitated to choose one rather than the other, because there is no perceivable difference between them, but chooses one by a mere act of willing without any cause but his own free act.^[33]

To which I answer, (1) first, by asking whether this and other instances like this are the only instances wherein man is free to will or choose among objects? If they are the only instances where man is free to will or choose among objects, then we are advanced a great way in the question; because there are few (if any) objects of the will that are perfectly alike; and because Necessity is hereby allowed to take place in all cases where there is a perceiveable difference in things, and consequently in all moral and religious cases, for the sake whereof such endeavors have been used to maintain so absurd and inconsistent a thing as Liberty or Freedom from Necessity. So that Liberty is almost, if not quite, reduced to nothing and destroyed, as to the grand end in asserting it. If those are not the only instances wherein man is free to will or choose among objects, but man is free to will in other cases, these other cases should be assigned, and not such cases as are of no consequence, and which by the great likeness of the objects to one another, and for other reasons, make the cause of the determination of man’s will less easy to be known, and consequently serve to no other purpose but to darken the question, which may be better determined by considering, whether man be free to will or not in more important instances.

2. Secondly, I answer, that whenever a choice is made, there can be no equality of circumstances preceding the choice. For in the case of choosing one out of two or more eggs, between which there is no perceivable difference; there is not, nor can there be, a true equality of circumstances and causes preceding the act of choosing one of the said eggs. It is not enough to render things equal to the will, that they are equal or alike in themselves. All the various modifications of the man, his opinions, prejudices, temper, habit, and circumstances, are to be taken in, and considered as causes of election, no less than the objects without us among which we choose; and these will ever incline or determine our wills, and make the choice we do make preferable to us, though the external objects of our choice are ever so much alike to each other. And, for example, in the case of choosing one out of the two eggs that are alike, there is first, in the person choosing, will to eat or use an egg. There is, secondly, a will to take but one, or one first. Thirdly, consequent to these two wills, follow in the same instant choosing and taking one; which one is chosen and taken, most commonly, according as the parts of our bodies have been formed long since by our wills, or by other causes, to an habitual practice, or as those parts are determined by some particular circumstances at that time. And we may know, by reflection on our actions, that several of our choices have been determined to one among several objects by these last means, when no cause has arisen from the mere consideration of the objects themselves. For we know by experience that we either use all the parts of our bodies by habit, or according to some particular cause determining their use at that time.

Fourthly, there are in all trains of causes that precede their effects, and especially effects which nearly resemble each other, certain differences undiscernible on account of their minuteness and also on account of our not accustoming ourselves to attend to them, which yet, in concurrence with other causes, as necessarily produce their effect, as the last feather laid on breaks the horse’s back, and as a grain necessarily turns the balance between any weights, though the eye cannot discover which is the greatest weight or bulk by so small a difference. And I add, that as we know without such discovery by the eye, that if one scale rises and the other falls, there is a greater weight in one scale than the other, and also know that the least additional weight is sufficient to determine the scales, so likewise we may know that the least circumstance in the extensive chain of causes that precede every effect, is sufficient to produce an effect, and also know that there must be causes of our choice (though we do not, or cannot discern those causes) by knowing that every thing that has a beginning must have a cause. By which last principle we are as necessarily led to conceive a cause of action in man, where we see not the particular cause itself, as we are to conceive that a greater weight determines a scale, though our eyes discover no difference between the two weights.

But let us put a case of true equality or indifference, and what I have asserted will more manifestly appear true. Let two eggs appear perfectly alike to a man; and let him have no will to eat or use eggs (for so the case ought to be put, to render things perfectly indifferent to him), because, if once a will to eat eggs be supposed, that will must necessarily introduce a train of causes which will ever destroy an equality of circumstances in relation to the things which are the objects of our choice. There will soon follow a second will to eat one first. And these two wills must put the man upon action, and the usages of the parts of his body to obtain his end; which parts are determined in their motions either by some habitual practice, or by some particular circumstance at that time, and cause the man to choose and take one of them first rather than the other. The case of equality being thus rightly stated, I say it is manifest no choice would or could be made; and the man is visibly prevented in the beginning from making a choice. For every man experiences that before he can make a choice among eggs, he must have a will to eat or use an egg; otherwise he must let them alone. And he also experiences, in relation to all things which are the objects of his choice, that he must have a precedent will to choose, otherwise he will make no choice. No man marries one woman preferably to another, or travels into France rather than into another country, or writes a book on one subject rather than another, but he must first have a precedent will to marry, travel and write.

It is therefore contrary to experience to suppose any choice can be made under an equality of circumstances. And by consequence it is matter of experience that man is ever determined in his willing or acts of volition and choice.

Doing as we will.

4. Fourthly, I shall now consider the actions of man consequent to willing and see whether he be free in any of those actions. And here also we experience perfect Necessity. If we will thinking or deliberating on a subject, or will reading, or walking, or riding, we find we must do those actions, unless some external impediment, as an apoplexy, or some intervening cause, hinders us; and then we are as much necessitated to let an action alone, as we are to act according to our will, had no such external impediment to action happened. If also we change our wills after we have begun any of these actions, we find we necessarily leave off these actions and follow the new will or choice. And this was Aristotle’s sense of such actions of man. “As,” says he, “in arguing we necessarily assent to the inference or conclusion drawn from premises, so if that arguing relate to practice, we necessarily act upon such inference or conclusion. As, for example, when we argue thus, whatever is sweet, is to be tasted, this is sweet; he who infers, therefore, this ought to be tasted, necessarily tastes that sweet thing if there be no obstacle to hinder him.”^[34]

For a conclusion of this argument from experience, let us compare the actions of inferior, intelligent, and sensible agents, and those of men together. It is allowed that beasts are necessary agents, and yet there is no perceivable difference between their actions and the actions of men, from whence they should be deemed necessary and men free agents. Sheep, for example, are supposed to be necessary agents, when they stand still, lie down, go slow or fast, turn to the right or left, skip, as they are differently affected in their minds; when they are doubtful or deliberate which way to take; when they eat or drink more or less according to their humor, or as they like the water or the pasture; when they choose the sweetest and best pasture; when they choose among pastures that are indifferent or alike; when they copulate; when they are fickle or steadfast in their amours; when they take more or less care of their young; when they act in virtue of vain fears; when they apprehend danger and fly from it, and sometimes defend themselves; when they quarrel among themselves about love or other matters, and terminate those quarrels by fighting; when they follow those leaders among themselves that presume to go first; and when they are either obedient to the shepherd and his dog or refractory. And why should man be deemed free in the performance of the same or like actions? He has indeed more knowledge than sheep. He takes in more things as matter of pleasure than they do, being sometimes moved with notions of honor and virtue, as well as with those pleasures he has in common with them. He is also more moved by absent things and things future than they are.^[35] He is also subject to more vain fears, more mistakes and wrong actions, and infinitely more absurdities in notions. He has also more power and strength, as well as more art and cunning, and is capable of doing more good and more mischief to his fellow-men than they are to one another. But these larger powers and larger weaknesses which are of the same kind with the powers and weaknesses of sheep, cannot contain Liberty in them, and plainly make no perceivable difference between them and men as to the general causes of action, in finite intelligent and sensible beings, no more than the different degrees of these powers and weaknesses among the various kinds of beasts, birds, fishes, and reptiles do among them. Wherefore I need not run through the actions of foxes, or any of the more subtle animals, nor the actions of children, which are allowed by the advocates^[36] of Liberty to be all necessary. I shall only ask these questions concerning the last. To what age do children continue necessary agents, and when do they become free? What different experience have they when they are supposed to be free agents from what they had while necessary agents? And what different actions do they do from whence it appears that they are necessary agents to a certain age, and free agents afterwards?

1. Spinoza had previously pointed out, in his terse, magisterial style, that men know that they will, but do not know the causes that determined them to will.—G.W.F.
2. Opera, p. 3968. Ed. Gron.
3. Placette Eclairciss. sur la Liberté, p. 2.
4. Jaque'ot, sur l’exist. de Dieu, p. 381.
5. Locke’s Essay of Human Understanding, Book II., c. xxi., § 8.
6. Fabricii Bibl. Gr., vol. iv., 63. Vossius de Sect. Phil. c. 18.
7. De fato, p. m. 57.
8. Bishop Bramhall was a learned divine, who forgot that St. Augustine and Martin Luther were Necessitarians, and who opposed Hobbes with great insolence and asperity. Considering the greatness of his adversary, and the perfect inability of the Bishop to understand the questions in dispute, it is amusing to read the wish of his clerical editor, in the Library of Anglo-Catholic Theology, that “his opponent had been more worthy of him.”—G.W.F.
9. Bp. Bramhall’s Works, p. 755.
10. Le Clerc Bibl. Chois., tom, xii., p. 103, 104.
11. Opera, tom, ix., p. 1215.
12. Bibl. Choif., tom, xii., p. 51.
13. Expos., p. 117.
14. King de Orig. Mali., p. 91, 127.
15. Opera, vol. i., p. 198, 199, 200.
16. Letters, p. 521.
17. Alexander de Fato, p. 10.
18. Reeves’s Apol., vol. i., p. 150, Sherlock of Prov., p. 66.
19. Dictionnaire, p. 1497; 20 edit.
20. Letter of the 13th December, 1696, to the Abbott du Bos.
21. De Orig. Mali., c. 5.
22. Remarques fur le liv. de l’Orig. du mal, p. 76.
23. Journal des Savans of the 16th of March, 1705.
24. Locke’s Posth. Works, p. l, 2.
25. Academ. Quest., lib. 2.
26. Pyrrhon. Hypot. l. 2, c. 10.
27. Locke of the Hum. Und., l. 2, c. 21.
28. Locke’s Essay of Human Understanding, l. 2, c. 21, sect. 25.
29. Theory of Love, p. 199.
30. Bayle Response aux Ques. etc., vol. iii., p. 756.
31. Opera, Edit. Serran, vol. i., p. 345, 358.
32. Bramhall’s Works, p. 656, 658.
33. Necessitarians may think that Collins has overlabored his answer to this sophism of the two eggs, but there is nothing like thoroughly disposing of your adversary’s illustration, and showing that it proves your own argument. It should also be remembered that the sophism still does duty on orthodox platforms, to the delight of ignorant believers. How long it has figured in the world we are unable to say, but it can at least be traced back to Buridan, a writer of the fourteenth century, who put the case of a hungry ass between two bundles of hay so exactly similar that he could not choose between them, and would therefore die of starvation in the sight of plenty.—G.W.F.
34. Ethica, l. 7, c. 5, ap. Opera Edit. Par, vol. ii., p. 88, etc.
35. This little sentence is pregnant with great meanings, and it shows how Collins had pondered the problem he was discussing. Imagination brings absent things present, and thus enlarges the field of moral motive. Without its aid we are at the mercy of the momentary solicitation of what is present to our senses; and this accounts for the strangely callous conduct of many amiable persons. The relation of imagination to morality is beautifully dealt with by Shelley in his Defence of Poetry, where he justly remarks that “A man to be greatly good must imagine intensely and comprehensively.”—G.W.F.
36. Bramhall’s Works, p. 656, 662.