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OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY
Chapter 8 of An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding
PART I
It might reasonably be expected in questions which have
been canvassed and disputed with great eagerness, since
the first origin of science, and philosophy, that the
meaning of all the terms, at least, should have been agreed
upon among the disputants; and our enquiries, in the course
of two thousand years, been able to pass from words to
the true and real subject of the controversy. For how
easy may it seem to give exact definitions of the terms
employed in reasoning, and make these definitions, not the
mere sound of words, the object of future scrutiny and
examination? But if we consider the matter more narrowly,
we shall be apt to draw a quite opposite conclusion. From
this circumstance alone, that a controversy has been long
kept on foot, and remains still undecided, we may presume
that there is some ambiguity in the expression, and that the
disputants affix different ideas to the terms employed in the
controversy. For as the faculties of the mind are supposed
to be naturally alike in every individual; otherwise nothing
could be more fruitless than to reason or dispute together;
it were impossible, if men affix the same ideas to their
terms, that they could so long form different opinions of
the same subject; especially when they communicate their
views, and each party turn themselves on all sides, in search
of arguments which may give them the victory over their
antagonists. It is true, if men attempt the discussion of
questions which lie entirely beyond the reach of human
capacity, such as those concerning the origin of worlds, or
the economy of the intellectual system or region of spirits,
they may long beat the air in their fruitless contests, and
never arrive at any determinate conclusion. But if the
question regard any subject of common life and experience,
nothing, one would think, could preserve the dispute so
long undecided but some ambiguous expressions, which
keep the antagonists still at a distance, and hinder them
from grappling with each other.
This has been the case in the long disputed question
concerning liberty and necessity; and to so remarkable
a degree that, if I be not much mistaken, we shall find,
that all mankind, both learned and ignorant, have always
been of the same opinion with regard to this subject, and
that a few intelligible definitions would immediately have
put an end to the whole controversy. I own that this
dispute has been so much canvassed on all hands, and has
led philosophers into such a labyrinth of obscure sophistry,
that it is no wonder, if a sensible reader indulge his ease so
far as to turn a deaf ear to the proposal of such a question,
from which he can expect neither instruction or entertainment. But the state of the argument here proposed may,
perhaps, serve to renew his attention; as it has more
novelty, promises at least some decision of the controversy,
and will not much disturb his ease by any intricate or
obscure reasoning.
I hope, therefore, to make it appear that all men have
ever agreed in the doctrine both of necessity and of liberty,
according to any reasonable sense, which can be put on
these terms; and that the whole controversy, has hitherto
turned merely upon words. We shall begin with examining
the doctrine of necessity.
It is universally allowed that matter, in all its operations,
is actuated by a necessary force, and that every natural
effect is so precisely determined by the energy of its cause
that no other effect, in such particular circumstances, could
possibly have resulted from it. The degree and direction
of every motion is, by the laws of nature, prescribed with
such exactness that a living creature may as soon arise
from the shock of two bodies as motion in any other degree or direction than what is actually produced by it.
Would we, therefore, form a just and precise idea of necessity, we must consider whence that idea arises when we apply
it to the operation of bodies.
It seems evident that, if all the scenes of nature were
continually shifted in such a manner that no two events
bore any resemblance to each other, but every object was
entirely new, without any similitude to whatever had been
seen before, we should never, in that case, have attained
the least idea of necessity, or of a connexion among these
objects. We might say, upon such a supposition, that one
object or event has followed another; not that one was
produced by the other. The relation of cause and effect
must be utterly unknown to mankind. Inference and reasoning concerning the operations of nature would, from
that moment, be at an end; and the memory and senses
remain the only canals, by which the knowledge of any
real existence could possibly have access to the mind. Our
idea, therefore, of necessity and causation arises entirely
from the uniformity observable in the operations of nature,
where similar objects are constantly conjoined together,
and the mind is determined by custom to infer the one
from the appearance of the other. These two circumstances form the whole of that necessity, which we ascribe
to matter. Beyond the constant conjunction of similar
objects, and the consequent inference from one to the other,
we have no notion of any necessity or connexion.
If it appear, therefore, that all mankind have ever allowed,
without any doubt or hesitation, that these two circumstances take place in the voluntary actions of men, and in
the operations of mind; it must follow, that all mankind
have ever agreed in the doctrine of necessity, and that they
have hitherto disputed, merely for not understanding each
other.
As to the first circumstance, the constant and regular conjunction of similar events, we may possibly satisfy ourselves
by the following considerations: It is universally acknowledged that there is a great uniformity among the actions of
men, in all nations and ages, and that human nature remains
still the same, in its principles and operations. The same
motives always produce the same actions: the same events
follow from the same causes. Ambition, avarice, self-love,
vanity, friendship, generosity, public spirit: these passions,
mixed in various degrees, and distributed through society,
have been, from the beginning of the world, and still are,
the source of all the actions and enterprises, which have
ever been observed among mankind. Would you know the
sentiments, inclinations, and course of life of the Greeks
and Romans? Study well the temper and actions of the
French and English: You cannot be much mistaken in transferring to the former most of the observations which you
have made with regard to the latter. Mankind are so much
the same, in all times and places, that history informs us of
nothing new or strange in this particular. Its chief use is
only to discover the constant and universal principles of
human nature, by showing men in all varieties of circumstances and situations, and furnishing us with materials
from which we may form our observations and become acquainted with the regular springs of human action and behaviour. These records of wars, intrigues, factions, and
revolutions, are so many collections of experiments, by
which the politician or moral philosopher fixes the principles of his science, in the same manner as the physician
or natural philosopher becomes acquainted with the nature
of plants, minerals, and other external objects, by the experiments which he forms concerning them. Nor are the
earth, water, and other elements, examined by Aristotle, and
Hippocrates, more like to those which at present lie under
our observation than the men described by Polybius and
Tacitus are to those who now govern the world.
Should a traveller, returning from a far country, bring us
an account of men, wholly different from any with whom
we were ever acquainted; men, who were entirely divested
of avarice, ambition, or revenge; who knew no pleasure but
friendship, generosity, and public spirit; we should immediately, from these circumstances, detect the falsehood, and
prove him a liar, with the same certainty as if he had stuffed
his narration with stories of centaurs and dragons, miracles
and prodigies. And if we would explode any forgery in
history, we cannot make use of a more convincing argument, than to prove, that the actions ascribed to any person
are directly contrary to the course of nature, and that no
human motives, in such circumstances, could ever induce
him to such a conduct. The veracity of Quintus Curtius
is as much to be suspected, when he describes the supernatural courage of Alexander, by which he was hurried on
singly to attack multitudes, as when he describes his supernatural force and activity, by which he was able to resist
them. So readily and universally do we acknowledge a uniformity in human motives and actions as well as in the
operations of body.
Hence likewise the benefit of that experience, acquired
by long life and a variety of business and company, in order
to instruct us in the principles of human nature, and regulate our future conduct, as well as speculation. By means
of this guide, we mount up to the knowledge of men's inclinations and motives, from their actions, expressions, and
even gestures; and again descend to the interpretation of
their actions from our knowledge of their motives and inclinations. The general observations treasured up by a
course of experience, give us the clue of human nature, and
teach us to unravel all its intricacies. Pretexts and appearances no longer deceive us. Public declarations pass for the
specious colouring of a cause. And though virtue and
honour be allowed their proper weight and authority, that
perfect disinterestedness, so often pretended to, is never expected in multitudes and parties; seldom in their leaders;
and scarcely even in individuals of any rank or station. But
were there no uniformity in human actions, and were every
experiment which we could form of this kind irregular and
anomalous, it were impossible to collect any general observations concerning mankind; and no experience, however accurately digested by reflection, would ever serve to any
purpose. Why is the aged husbandman more skilful in his
calling than the young beginner but because there is a
certain uniformity in the operation of the sun, rain, and
earth towards the production of vegetables; and experience
teaches the old practitioner the rules by which this operation
is governed and directed.
We must not, however, expect that this uniformity of
human actions should be carried to such a length as that all
men, in the same circumstances, will always act precisely in
the same manner, without making any allowance for the
diversity of characters, prejudices, and opinions. Such a
uniformity in every particular, is found in no part of nature.
On the contrary, from observing the variety of conduct in
different men, we are enabled to form a greater variety of
maxims, which still suppose a degree of uniformity and
regularity.
Are the manners of men different in different ages and
countries? We learn thence the great force of custom and
education, which mould the human mind from its infancy
and form it into a fixed and established character. Is the
behaviour and conduct of the one sex very unlike that of
the other? Is it thence we become acquainted with the
different characters which nature has impressed upon the
sexes, and which she preserves with constancy and regularity? Are the actions of the same person much diversified
in the different periods of his life, from infancy to old age?
This affords room for many general observations concerning
the gradual change of our sentiments and inclinations, and
the different maxims which prevail in the different ages of
human creatures. Even the characters, which are peculiar
to each individual, have a uniformity in their influence;
otherwise our acquaintance with the persons and our observation of their conduct could never teach us their dispositions, or serve to direct our behaviour with regard to them.
I grant it possible to find some actions, which seem to
have no regular connexion with any known motives, and
are exceptions to all the measures of conduct which have
ever been established for the government of men. But
if we would willingly know what judgment should be formed
of such irregular and extraordinary actions, we may consider the sentiments commonly entertained with regard to
those irregular events which appear in the course of nature,
and the operations of external objects. All causes are not
conjoined to their usual effects with like uniformity. An
artificer, who handles only dead matter, may be disappointed
of his aim, as well as the politician, who directs the conduct
of sensible and intelligent agents.
The vulgar, who take things according to their first appearance, attribute the uncertainty of events to such an
uncertainty in the causes as makes the latter often fail
of their usual influence; though they meet with no impediment in their operation. But philosophers, observing that,
almost in every part of nature, there is contained a vast
variety of springs and principles, which are hid, by reason
of their minuteness or remoteness, find, that it is at least
possible the contrariety of events may not proceed from any
contingency in the cause, but from the secret operation of
contrary causes. This possibility is converted into certainty by farther observation, when they remark that, upon
an exact scrutiny, a contrariety of effects always betrays
a contrariety of causes, and proceeds from their mutual
opposition. A peasant can give no better reason for the
stopping of any clock or watch than to say that it does not
commonly go right: But an artist easily perceives that the
same force in the spring or pendulum has always the same
influence on the wheels; but fails of its usual effects, perhaps
by reason of a grain of dust, which puts a stop to the
whole movement. From the observation of several parallel
instances, philosophers form a maxim that the connexion
between all causes and effects is equally necessary, and
that its seeming uncertainty in some instances proceeds
from the secret opposition of contrary causes.
Thus, for instance, in the human body, when the usual
symptoms of health or sickness disappoint our expectation;
when medicines operate not with their wonted powers;
when irregular events follow from any particular cause; the
philosopher and physician are not surprised at the matter,
nor are ever tempted to deny, in general, the necessity and
uniformity of those principles by which the animal economy
is conducted. They know that a human body is a mighty
complicated machine: That many secret powers lurk in it,
which are altogether beyond our comprehension: That to
us it must often appear very uncertain in its operations: And
that therefore the irregular events, which outwardly discover
themselves, can be no proof that the laws of nature are
not observed with the greatest regularity in its internal
operations and government.
The philosopher, if he be consistent, must apply the same
reasoning to the actions and volitions of intelligent agents.
The most irregular and unexpected resolutions of men may
frequently be accounted for by those who know every particular circumstance of their character and situation. A
person of an obliging disposition gives a peevish answer:
But he has the toothache, or has not dined. A stupid fellow
discovers an uncommon alacrity in his carriage: But he
has met with a sudden piece of good fortune. Or even when
an action, as sometimes happens, cannot be particularly accounted for, either by the person himself or by others; we
know, in general, that the characters of men are, to a certain
degree, inconstant and irregular. This is, in a manner, the
constant character of human nature; though it be applicable, in a more particular manner, to some persons who
have no fixed rule for their conduct, but proceed in a continued course of caprice and inconstancy. The internal
principles and motives may operate in a uniform manner,
notwithstanding these seeming irregularities; in the same
manner as the winds, rain, cloud, and other variations of
the weather are supposed to be governed by steady principles; though not easily discoverable by human sagacity
and enquiry.
Thus it appears, not only that the conjunction between
motives and voluntary actions is as regular and uniform
as that between the cause and effect in any part of nature;
but also that this regular conjunction has been universally
acknowledged among mankind, and has never been the
subject of dispute, either in philosophy or common life.
Now, as it is from past experience that we draw all inferences concerning the future, and as we conclude that objects
will always be conjoined together which we find to have
always been conjoined; it may seem superfluous to prove
that this experienced uniformity in human actions is a source
whence we draw inferences concerning them. But in order
to throw the argument into a greater variety of lights we
shall also insist, though briefly, on this latter topic.
The mutual dependence of men is so great in all societies
that scarce any human action is entirely complete in itself,
or is performed without some reference to the actions of
others, which are requisite to make it answer fully the intention of the agent. The poorest artificer, who labours
alone, expects at least the protection of the magistrate, to
ensure him the enjoyment of the fruits of his labour. He
also expects that, when he carries his goods to market, and
offers them at a reasonable price, he shall find purchasers,
and shall be able, by the money he acquires, to engage others
to supply him with those commodities which are requisite
for his subsistence. In proportion as men extend their dealings, and render their intercourse with others more complicated, they always comprehend, in their schemes of life,
a greater variety of voluntary actions, which they expect,
from the proper motives, to co-operate with their own. In
all these conclusions they take their measures from past experience, in the same manner as in their reasonings concerning external objects; and firmly believe that men, as
well as all the elements, are to continue, in their operations,
the same that they have ever found them. A manufacturer
reckons upon the labour of his servants for the execution of
any work as much as upon the tools which he employs,
and would be equally surprised were his expectations disappointed. In short, this experimental inference and reasoning concerning the actions of others enters so much into
human life that no man, while awake, is ever a moment
without employing it. Have we not reason, therefore, to
affirm that all mankind have always agreed in the doctrine
of necessity according to the foregoing definition and explication of it?
Nor have philosophers even entertained a different
opinion from the people in this particular. For, not to mention that almost every action of their life supposes that
opinion, there are even few of the speculative parts of learning to which it is not essential. What would become of
history, had we not a dependence on the veracity of the
historian according to the experience which we have had of
mankind? How could politics be a science, if laws and
forms of government had not a uniform influence upon
society? Where would be the foundation of morals, if particular characters had no certain or determinate power to
produce particular sentiments, and if these sentiments had
no constant operation on actions? And with what pretence
could we employ our criticism upon any poet or polite author,
if we could not pronounce the conduct and sentiments of
his actors either natural or unnatural to such characters,
and in such circumstances? It seems almost impossible,
therefore, to engage either in science or action of any kind
without acknowledging the doctrine of necessity, and this
inference from motive to voluntary actions, from characters
to conduct.
And indeed, when we consider how aptly natural and
moral evidence link together, and form only one chain of
argument, we shall make no scruple to allow that they are
of the same nature, and derived from the same principles.
A prisoner who has neither money nor interest, discovers
the impossibility of his escape, as well when he considers
the obstinacy of the gaoler, as the walls and bars with
which he is surrounded; and, in all attempts for his freedom,
chooses rather to work upon the stone and iron of the one,
than upon the inflexible nature of the other. The same
prisoner, when conducted to the scaffold, foresees his death
as certainly from the constancy and fidelity of his guards, as
from the operation of the axe or wheel. His mind runs
along a certain train of ideas: the refusal of the soldiers
to consent to his escape; the action of the executioner;
the separation of the head and body; bleeding, convulsive
motions, and death. Here is a connected chain of natural
causes and voluntary actions; but the mind feels no difference between them in passing from one link to another:
Nor is it less certain of the future event than if it were connected with the objects present to the memory or senses, by
a train of causes, cemented together by what we are pleased
to call a physical necessity. The same experienced union
has the same effect on the mind, whether the united objects
be motives, volition, and actions; or figure and motion. We
may change the name of things; but their nature and their
operation on the understanding never change.
Were a man, whom I know to be honest and opulent,
and with whom I live in intimate friendship, to come into
my house, where I am surrounded with my servants, I rest
assured that he is not to stab me before he leaves it in
order to rob me of my silver standish; and I no more
suspect this event than the falling of the house itself, which
is new, and solidly built and founded.--But he may have
been seized with a sudden and unknown frenzy.--So may
a sudden earthquake arise, and shake and tumble my house
about my ears. I shall therefore change the suppositions.
I shall say that I know with certainty that he is not to put
his hand into the fire and hold it there till it be consumed:
and this event, I think I can foretell with the same assurance,
as that, if he throw himself out at the window, and meet
with no obstruction, he will not remain a moment suspended
in the air. No suspicion of an unknown frenzy can give
the least possibility to the former event, which is so contrary to all the known principles of human nature. A man
who at noon leaves his purse full of gold on the pavement
at Charing-Cross, may as well expect that it will fly away
like a feather, as that he will find it untouched an hour after.
Above one half of human reasonings contain inferences of
a similar nature, attended with more or less degrees of certainty proportioned to our experience of the usual conduct
of mankind in such particular situations.
I have frequently considered, what could possibly be the
reason why all mankind, though they have ever, without
hesitation, acknowledged the doctrine of necessity in their
whole practice and reasoning, have yet discovered such
a reluctance to acknowledge it in words, and have rather
shown a propensity, in all ages, to profess the contrary
opinion. The matter, I think, may be accounted for after
the following manner. If we examine the operations of
body, and the production of effects from their causes, we
shall find that all our faculties can never carry us farther in
our knowledge of this relation than barely to observe that
particular objects are constantly conjoined together, and
that the mind is carried, by a customary transition, from the
appearance of one to the belief of the other. But though
this conclusion concerning human ignorance be the result
of the strictest scrutiny of this subject, men still entertain
a strong propensity to believe that they penetrate farther
into the powers of nature, and perceive something like
a necessary connexion between the cause and the effect.
When again they turn their reflections towards the operations of their own minds, and feel no such connexion of the
motive and the action; they are thence apt to suppose, that
there is a difference between the effects which result from
material force, and those which arise from thought and
intelligence. But being once convinced that we know
nothing farther of causation of any kind than merely the
constant conjunction of objects, and the consequent inference
of the mind from one to another, and finding that these
two circumstances are universally allowed to have place in
voluntary actions; we may be more easily led to own the
same necessity common to all causes. And though this
reasoning may contradict the systems of many philosophers,
in ascribing necessity to the determinations of the will, we
shall find, upon reflection, that they dissent from it in words
only, not in their real sentiment. Necessity, according to the
sense in which it is here taken, has never yet been rejected,
nor can ever, I think, be rejected by any philosopher. It
may only, perhaps, be pretended that the mind can perceive, in the operations of matter, some farther connexion
between the cause and effect; and connexion that has not
place in voluntary actions of intelligent beings. Now
whether it be so or not, can only appear upon examination;
and it is incumbent on these philosophers to make good
their assertion, by defining or describing that necessity, and
pointing it out to us in the operations of material causes.
It would seem, indeed, that men begin at the wrong end
of this question concerning liberty and necessity, when
they enter upon it by examining the faculties of the soul,
the influence of the understanding, and the operations of
the will. Let them first discuss a more simple question,
namely, the operations of body and of brute unintelligent
matter; and try whether they can there form any idea of
causation and necessity, except that of a constant conjunction of objects, and subsequent inference of the mind from
one to another. If these circumstances form, in reality, the
whole of that necessity, which we conceive in matter, and
if these circumstances be also universally acknowledged to
take place in the operations of the mind, the dispute is at
an end; at least, must be owned to be thenceforth merely
verbal. But as long as we will rashly suppose, that we have
some farther idea of necessity and causation in the operations of external objects; at the same time, that we can find
nothing farther in the voluntary actions of the mind; there
is no possibility of bringing the question to any determinate
issue, while we proceed upon so erroneous a supposition.
The only method of undeceiving us is to mount up higher;
to examine the narrow extent of science when applied to
material causes; and to convince ourselves that all we
know of them is the constant conjunction and inference
above mentioned. We may, perhaps, find that it is with difficulty we are induced to fix such narrow limits to human
understanding: but we can afterwards find no difficulty
when we come to apply this doctrine to the actions of the
will. For as it is evident that these have a regular conjunction with motives and circumstances and characters, and
as we always draw inferences from one to the other, we
must be obliged to acknowledge in words that necessity,
which we have already avowed, in every deliberation of our
lives, and in every step of our conduct and behaviour.[1]
But to proceed in this reconciling project with regard to
the question of liberty and necessity; the most contentious
question of metaphysics, the most contentious science; it
will not require many words to prove, that all mankind
have ever agreed in the doctrine of liberty as well as in that
of necessity, and that the whole dispute, in this respect also,
has been hitherto merely verbal. For what is meant by
liberty, when applied to voluntary actions? We cannot
surely mean that actions have so little connexion with
motives, inclinations, and circumstances, that one does not
follow with a certain degree of uniformity from the other,
and that one affords no inference by which we can conclude
the existence of the other. For these are plain and acknowledged matters of fact. By liberty, then, we can only mean
a power of acting or not acting, according to the determinations of the will; this is, if we choose to remain at rest,
we may; if we choose to move, we also may. Now this
hypothetical liberty is universally allowed to belong to every
one who is not a prisoner and in chains. Here, then, is no
subject of dispute.
Whatever definition we may give of liberty, we should be
careful to observe two requisite circumstances; First, that
it be consistent with plain matter of fact; secondly, that
it be consistent with itself. If we observe these circumstances, and render our definition intelligible, I am persuaded that all mankind will be found of one opinion with
regard to it.
It is universally allowed that nothing exists without a
cause of its existence, and that chance, when strictly examined, is a mere negative word, and means not any real
power which has anywhere a being in nature. But it is
pretended that some causes are necessary, some not necessary. Here then is the advantage of definitions. Let any
one define a cause, without comprehending, as a part of the
definition, a necessary connexion with its effect; and let him
show distinctly the origin of the idea, expressed by the
definition; and I shall readily give up the whole controversy. But if the foregoing explication of the matter
be received, this must be absolutely impracticable. Had
not objects a regular conjunction with each other, we
should never have entertained any notion of cause and
effect; and this regular conjunction produces that inference
of the understanding, which is the only connexion, that we
can have any comprehension of. Whoever attempts a definition of cause, exclusive of these circumstances, will be
obliged either to employ unintelligible terms or such as
are synonymous to the term which he endeavours to define.[2]
And if the definition above mentioned be admitted; liberty,
when opposed to necessity, not to constraint, is the same
thing with chance; which is universally allowed to have no
existence.
THERE is no method of reasoning more common, and
yet none more blameable, than, in philosophical disputes,
to endeavour the refutation of any hypothesis, by a pretence of its dangerous consequences to religion and morality. When any opinion leads to absurdities, it is certainly false; but it is not certain that an opinion is false,
because it is of dangerous consequence. Such topics, therefore, ought entirely to be forborne; as serving nothing to
the discovery of truth, but only to make the person of an
antagonist odious. This I observe in general, without pretending to draw any advantage from it. I frankly submit
to an examination of this kind, and shall venture to affirm
that the doctrines, both of necessity and of liberty, as above
explained, are not only consistent with morality, but are
absolutely essential to its support.
Necessity may be defined two ways, conformably to the
two definitions of cause, of which it makes an essential part.
It consists either in the constant conjunction of like objects,
or in the inference of the understanding from one object
to another. Now necessity, in both these senses, (which,
indeed, are at bottom the same) has universally, though
tacitly, in the schools, in the pulpit, and in common life,
been allowed to belong to the will of man; and no one
has ever pretended to deny that we can draw inferences
concerning human actions, and that those inferences are
founded on the experienced union of like actions, with like
motives, inclinations, and circumstances. The only particular in which any one can differ, is, that either, perhaps,
he will refuse to give the name of necessity to this property
of human actions: but as long as the meaning is understood,
I hope the word can do no harm: or that he will maintain
it possible to discover something farther in the operations
of matter. But this, it must be acknowledged, can be of
no consequence to morality or religion, whatever it may be
to natural philosophy or metaphysics. We may here be
mistaken in asserting that there is no idea of any other
necessity or connexion in the actions of body: But surely
we ascribe nothing to the actions of the mind, but what
everyone does, and must readily allow of. We change no
circumstance in the received orthodox system with regard
to the will, but only in that with regard to material objects
and causes. Nothing, therefore, can be more innocent, at
least, than this doctrine.
All laws being founded on rewards and punishments, it
is supposed as a fundamental principle, that these motives
have a regular and uniform influence on the mind, and
both produce the good and prevent the evil actions. We
may give to this influence what name we please; but, as it
is usually conjoined with the action, it must be esteemed
a cause, and be looked upon as an instance of that necessity,
which we would here establish.
The only proper object of hatred or vengeance is a
person or creature, endowed with thought and consciousness; and when any criminal or injurious actions excite
that passion, it is only by their relation to the person, or
connexion with him. Actions are, by their very nature,
temporary and perishing; and where they proceed not
from some cause in the character and disposition of the
person who performed them, they can neither redound to
his honour, if good; nor infamy, if evil. The actions
themselves may be blameable; they may be contrary to all
the rules of morality and religion: but the person is not
answerable for them; and as they proceeded from nothing
in him that is durable and constant, and leave nothing of
that nature behind them, it is impossible he can, upon their
account, become the object of punishment or vengeance.
According to the principle, therefore, which denies necessity,
and consequently causes, a man is as pure and untainted,
after having committed the most horrid crime, as at the
first moment of his birth, nor is his character anywise
concerned in his actions, since they are not derived from
it, and the wickedness of the one can never be used as
a proof of the depravity of the other.
Men are not blamed for such actions as they perform
ignorantly and casually, whatever may be the consequences.
Why? but because the principles of these actions are only
momentary, and terminate in them alone. Men are less
blamed for such actions as they perform hastily and unpremeditatedly than for such as proceed from deliberation. For
what reason? but because a hasty temper, though a constant
cause or principle in the mind, operates only by intervals,
and infects not the whole character. Again, repentance
wipes off every crime, if attended with a reformation of life
and manners. How is this to be accounted for? but by
asserting that actions render a person criminal merely as
they are proofs of criminal principles in the mind; and
when, by an alteration of these principles, they cease to
be just proofs, they likewise cease to be criminal. But,
except upon the doctrine of necessity, they never were just
proofs, and consequently never were criminal.
It will be equally easy to prove, and from the same
arguments, that liberty, according to that definition above
mentioned, in which all men agree, is also essential to
morality, and that no human actions, where it is wanting,
are susceptible of any moral qualities, or can be the objects
either of approbation or dislike. For as actions are objects
of our moral sentiment, so far only as they are indications
of the internal character, passions, and affections; it is
impossible that they can give rise either to praise or blame,
where they proceed not from these principles, but are
derived altogether from external violence.
I pretend not to have obviated or removed all objections
to this theory, with regard to necessity and liberty. I can
foresee other objections, derived from topics which have
not here been treated of. It may be said, for instance,
that, if voluntary actions be subjected to the same laws of
necessity with the operations of matter, there is a continued
chain of necessary causes, pre-ordained and pre-determined,
reaching from the original cause of all to every single
volition of every human creature. No contingency anywhere in the universe; no indifference; no liberty. While
we act, we are, at the same time, acted upon. The ultimate Author of all our volitions is the Creator of the
world, who first bestowed motion on this immense machine,
and placed all beings in that particular position, whence
every subsequent event, by an inevitable necessity, must
result. Human actions, therefore, either can have no moral
turpitude at all, as proceeding from so good a cause; or
if they have any turpitude, they must involve our Creator
in the same guilt, while he is acknowledged to be their
ultimate cause and author. For as a man, who fired a mine,
is answerable for all the consequences whether the train he
employed be long or short; so wherever a continued chain
of necessary causes is fixed, that Being, either finite or
infinite, who produces the first, is likewise the author of all
the rest, and must both bear the blame and acquire the
praise which belong to them. Our clear and unalterable
ideas of morality establish this rule, upon unquestionable
reasons, when we examine the consequences of any human
action; and these reasons must still have greater force
when applied to the volitions and intentions of a Being
infinitely wise and powerful. Ignorance or impotence may
be pleaded for so limited a creature as man; but those
imperfections have no place in our Creator. He foresaw,
he ordained, he intended all those actions of men, which
we so rashly pronounce criminal. And we must therefore conclude, either that they are not criminal, or that
the Deity, not man, is accountable for them. But as either
of these positions is absurd and impious, it follows, that
the doctrine from which they are deduced cannot possibly
be true, as being liable to all the same objections. An absurd
consequence, if necessary, proves the original doctrine to be
absurd; in the same manner as criminal actions render criminal the original cause, if the connexion between them be
necessary and inevitable.
This objection consists of two parts, which we shall
examine separately; First, that, if human actions can be
traced up, by a necessary chain, to the Deity, they can never
be criminal; on account of the infinite perfection of that
Being from whom they are derived, and who can intend
nothing but what is altogether good and laudable. Or,
Secondly, if they be criminal, we must retract the attribute
of perfection, which we ascribe to the Deity, and must
acknowledge him to be the ultimate author of guilt and
moral turpitude in all his creatures.
The answer to the first objection seems obvious and convincing. There are many philosophers who, after an exact
scrutiny of all the phenomena of nature, conclude, that
the WHOLE, considered as one system, is, in every period of
its existence, ordered with perfect benevolence; and that
the utmost possible happiness will, in the end, result to all
created beings, without any mixture of positive or absolute
ill or misery. Every physical ill, say they, makes an essential part of this benevolent system, and could not possibly
be removed, even by the Deity himself, considered as a
wise agent, without giving entrance to greater ill, or excluding greater good, which will result from it. From this
theory, some philosophers, and the ancient Stoics among
the rest, derived a topic of consolation under all afflictions,
while they taught their pupils that those ills under which
they laboured were, in reality, goods to the universe; and
that to an enlarged view, which could comprehend the
whole system of nature, every event became an object of
joy and exultation. But though this topic be specious and
sublime, it was soon found in practice weak and ineffectual. You would surely more irritate than appease a
man lying under the racking pains of the gout by preaching
up to him the rectitude of those general laws, which produced the malignant humours in his body, and led them
through the proper canals, to the sinews and nerves, where
they now excite such acute torments. These enlarged
views may, for a moment, please the imagination of a
speculative man, who is placed in ease and security; but
neither can they dwell with constancy on his mind, even
though undisturbed by the emotions of pain or passion;
much less can they maintain their ground when attacked
by such powerful antagonists. The affections take a narrower and more natural survey of their object; and by an
economy, more suitable to the infirmity of human minds,
regard alone the beings around us, and are actuated by
such events as appear good or ill to the private system.
The case is the same with moral as with physical ill. It
cannot reasonably be supposed, that those remote considerations, which are found of so little efficacy with regard
to one, will have a more powerful influence with regard
to the other. The mind of man is so formed by nature
that, upon the appearance of certain characters, dispositions,
and actions, it immediately feels the sentiment of approbation or blame; nor are there any emotions more essential
to its frame and constitution. The characters which engage
our approbation are chiefly such as contribute to the peace
and security of human society; as the characters which
excite blame are chiefly such as tend to public detriment
and disturbance: whence it may reasonably be presumed,
that the moral sentiments arise, either mediately or immediately, from a reflection of these opposite interests.
What though philosophical meditations establish a different
opinion or conjecture; that everything is right with regard
to the WHOLE, and that the qualities, which disturb society,
are, in the main, as beneficial, and are as suitable to the
primary intention of nature as those which more directly
promote its happiness and welfare? Are such remote and
uncertain speculations able to counterbalance the sentiments which arise from the natural and immediate view of
the objects? A man who is robbed of a considerable sum;
does he find his vexation for the loss anywise diminished
by these sublime reflections? Why then should his moral
resentment against the crime be supposed incompatible
with them? Or why should not the acknowledgment of
a real distinction between vice and virtue be reconcileable
to all speculative systems of philosophy, as well as that of
a real distinction between personal beauty and deformity?
Both these distinctions are founded in the natural sentiments of the human mind: And these sentiments are not
to be controuled or altered by any philosophical theory or
speculation whatsoever.
The second objection admits not of so easy and satisfactory an answer; nor is it possible to explain distinctly,
how the Deity can be the mediate cause of all the actions
of men, without being the author of sin and moral turpitude.
These are mysteries, which mere natural and unassisted
reason is very unfit to handle; and whatever system she
embraces, she must find herself involved in inextricable
difficulties, and even contradictions, at every step which she
takes with regard to such subjects. To reconcile the indifference and contingency of human actions with prescience;
or to defend absolute decrees, and yet free the Deity from
being the author of sin, has been found hitherto to exceed
all the power of philosophy. Happy, if she be thence
sensible of her temerity, when she pries into these sublime
mysteries; and leaving a scene so full of obscurities and
perplexities, return, with suitable modesty, to her true and
proper province, the examination of common life; where
she will find difficulties enough to employ her enquiries,
without launching into so boundless an ocean of doubt,
uncertainty, and contradiction!
[1] The prevalence of the doctrine of liberty may be accounted for, from
another cause, viz. a false sensation of seeming experience which we have,
or may have, of liberty or indifference, in many of our actions. The necessity
of any action, whether of matter or of mind, is not, properly speaking, a
quality in the agent, but in any thinking or intelligent being, who may consider the action; and it consists chiefly in the determination of his thoughts
to infer the existence of that action from some preceding objects; as liberty,
when opposed to necessity, is nothing but the want of that determination,
and a certain looseness or indifference, which we feel, in passing, or not
passing, from the idea of one object to that of any succeeding one. Now
we may observe, that, though, in reflecting on human actions, we seldom
feel such a looseness, or indifference, but are commonly able to infer them
with considerable certainty from their motives, and from the dispositions
of the agent; yet it frequently happens, that, in performing the actions
themselves, we are sensible of something like it: And as all resembling
objects are readily taken for each other, this has been employed as a
demonstrative and even intuitive proof of human liberty. We feel, that
our actions are subject to our will, on most occasions; and imagine we
feel, that the will itself is subject to nothing, because, when by a denial
of it we are provoked to try, we feel, that it moves easily every way, and
produces an image of itself (or a Velleity, as it is called in the schools)
even on that side, on which it did not settle. This image, or faint motion,
we persuade ourselves, could, at that time, have been compleated into the
thing itself; because, should that be denied, we find, upon a second trial,
that, at present, it can. We consider not, that the fantastical desire of
shewing liberty, is here the motive of our actions. And it seems certain,
that, however we may imagine we feel a liberty within ourselves, a spectator can commonly infer our actions from our motives and character; and
even where he cannot, he concludes in general, that he might, were he
perfectly acquainted with every circumstance of our situation and temper,
and the most secret springs of our complexion and disposition. Now this
is the very essence of necessity, according to the foregoing doctrine.
[2] Thus, if a cause be defined, that which produces any thing, it is easy
to observe, that producing is synonymous to causing. In like manner, if a
cause be defined, that by which any thing exists, this is liable to the same
objection. For what is meant by these words, by which? Had it been
said, that a cause is that after which any thing constantly exists; we should
have understood the terms. For this is, indeed, all we know of the matter. And this constantly forms the very essence of necessity, nor have we
any other idea of it.
Works of David Hume
Of Liberty and Necessity, Chapter 8, Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding
Treatise of Human Nature, Book II, Part III - The Will and Direct Passions
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