lantern, which makes figures appear upon the wall according as something within is turned. But our mind, perceiving some image which recurs to it, may say: stop there, and, so to speak, arrest it. Moreover, the mind enters, as seems good to itself, into certain trains of thought, which lead it on to others. But this is true only when internal or external impres sions do not at all prevail. It is true that in this thing men differ very much, both according to their temperament and according as they have exercised their control, so that one can master impressions where another lets them go.
§ 13. Ph. Necessity takes place wherever thought is wholly wanting. And this necessity, when found, is an agent capable of volition, and when the commencement or continuation of any action is contrary to the preference of his mind, I call it compulsion; when the hindering or stopping of an action is contrary to his volition, I may call it restraint. Agents which have absolutely neither thought nor volition are in all respects necessary agents.
Th. [It seems to me that, properly speaking, although en. xxij OX HUMAN UNDERSTANDING 183 volitions are contingent, necessity should not be opposed to volition, but to contingency, as I have already remarked in § 9, and that necessity should not be confounded with determina tion, for there is no less connection or determination in thoughts than in movements (to be determined being a wholly different thing from being pushed or forced by compulsion). And if we do not always notice the reason which determines us or by which we determine ourselves, it is because we are as little capable ourselves of perceiving the entire play of our mind and its thoughts, very often imperceptible and confused, as we are of recognizing all the machinery which nature causes to play in the body. Thus, if by necessity, you mean the cer tain determination of man, which a perfect knowledge of all the circumstances within and without could make a perfect mind foresee, it is certain that thoughts being as determined as the motions they represent, every free act would be a neces sary act. But necessity must be distinguished from contingency although determined; and not only are contingent truths not at all necessary, but further, their connections are not always of an absolutely necessary character; for it must be admitted that there is some difference in the manner of determining between consequences which take place in necessary matter and those which take place in contingent matter. Geometrical and metaphysical consequences necessitate, but physical and moral incline without necessitating; the physical even having something of the moral and voluntary as related to God, since the laws of movement have no other necessity than that of (the principle, or choice, of — TR.) the best. Now God chooses freely although he is determined to choose the best; and as bodies themselves do not choose (God having chosen for them), usage has decided that they be called necessary agents, to which I am not opposed, provided we do not confound the necessary and the determined, and do not suppose that free beings act in an indeterminate manner, an error which has prevailed in cer tain minds and which destroys the most important truths, even this fundamental axiom: that nothing happens without reason, Avithout Avhich neither the existence of God nor other great truths could be satisfactorily demonstrated. As for compulsion it is well to distinguish tAVO kinds, the one physical, as Avhen a man is carried in spite of himself into prison, or thrown 184 LEIBNITZ'S CRITIQUE OP LOCKE [BK. H down a precipice; the other moral, as, for example, the con straint of a greater evil, and this act,1 although in a sense forced, does not cease to be voluntary.2 One may be compelled also, by the consideration of a greater good, as when a man is tempted by proposing to him a too great advantage, although it is not customary to call this constraint.]
§ 14. Ph. Let us see now if we cannot put an end to that long agitated, and in my opinion very unreasonable, because unintelligible, question: Whether man's will is free or no.
Tli, [There is much reason for the exclamation with respect to the strange manner of men who torment themselves by agi tating badly conceived questions: They seek for what they know, and know not for what they seek.']
Ph. Freedom, which is only a power, belongs only to agents and cannot be an attribute or modification of the will, which is itself nothing else than a power.
Th. [You are right, sir, according to the proper use of words. One can, however, in some measure excuse received usage. Thus it is customary to attribute power to heat or to other qualities, i.e. to the body in so far as possessed of that quality: and in like manner the intent here is to ask if man is free in willing.]
§ 15. Ph. Freedom is the power a man has of doing or not doing any act conformably to his will.
Th. If men understood only that by freedom, when they ask whether the will, or the arbiter is free, their question would be truly absurd. But you will see presently what they ask, and indeed I have already touched upon it. It is true but by another principle, that they (at least many) do not cease to ask for the absurd and the impossible, in desiring a freedom of equilibrium absolutely imaginary and impracticable, and which indeed would not serve them, were it possible for them to have it, i.e. to have the freedom of willing against all the impressions which can come from the understanding, which would destroy true freedom together with the reason, and lower us below the beasts.
1 Gerhardt reads: " et cctte action, quoyque forcee en quelque fa9on"; Erdmann and Jacques: " car 1'action, qu'elle fait faire," i.e. for the act which it makes you do. — TR.
2 Cf. Kant, Kritik d. prakt. Vcrnunft, Th. I., Bd. I., Hpst. 1, § 6, Anm.; translation by T. K. Abbott, 4th ed., revised and enlarged. London: Longmans, CH. xxi] ON HUMAN UNDERSTANDING 185 § 17. Ph. He who should say that the power of speaking directs the power of singing, and that the power of singing: obeys or disobeys the power of speaking, would express him self in. as proper and intelligent a manner, as he who says, as has been usual, that the will directs the understanding, and that the understanding obeys or disobeys the will. § 18. Nevertheless this manner of speaking has prevailed, and has caused, if I am not mistaken, much confusion, although the power of thinking operates no more upon the power of choos ing and the contrary, than the power of singing upon that of dancing. § 19. I grant that this or that thought may furnish man the occasion of exercising his power of choosing and that the mind's choice may be the cause of its actually thinking on this or that thing, just as actually singing a certain tune may be the occasion of dancing such a dance.
Tli. [There is a little more than the furnishing of occasions, since there is some dependence; for you can will only what you find to be good, and according as the faculty of under standing is improved the choice of the will is better, as on the other hand, according as man has vigor of will he determines his thoughts according to his choice, instead of being deter mined and carried away by involuntary perceptions.]
Ph. Powers are relations, not agents.
Th. [If the essential faculties are only relations and add nothing whatever to the essence, the qualities and the faculties that are accidental or subject to change are something else, and we may say of these last that the one often depends upon the other in the exercise of their functions.]
§ 21. Ph. In my opinion the question should not be, whether the will is free, — that is to speak in a very improper manner, — but whether the man is free. That granted, I say that so long as any one can by the direction or choice of his mind prefer the existence of an action to its non-existence, and the contrary, i.e. can make it exist or not exist according as he wills, so long he is free. And we can scarcely say how we could possibly conceive a being freer than so far as he is able to do what he wills. So that man seems to be as free in refer- 1 Gerharclt reads: "parler," a MS. or typographical error; <-f. Locke, P/tilos. Works (Bohn's ed.), Vol. 1, p. 370. Erdmami arid Jacques read: "chanter," which the translation follows. — TR.
186 LEIBNITZ'S CRITIQUE OF LOCKE [BK. n ence to those actions which depend upon this power he finds in himself, as it is possible for freedom to make him, if I may so express myself.
Th. [When we reason about the freedom of the will or upon free-will (franc arbitre), we do not ask if man can do what he wills, but if there is enough independence in his will itself. We do not ask if he has free limbs or elbow-room, but if he has a free spirit, and in what it consists. In this respect one intelligence might be freer than another, and the supreme intelligence will exist in perfect freedom of which creatures are not at all capable.]
§ 22. Ph. Men naturally inquisitive, and who love to remove as much as they can from their minds the thought of guilt, although it be by reducing themselves to a state worse than that of a fatal necessity, are not, however, satisfied with this. Unless freedom extends still farther, it is not to their taste, and in their opinion it is a very good proof that man is not at all wholly free, unless he has as well the freedom to will as that of doing what he wills. § 23. Concerning which I believe that man cannot be free in reference to this particular act of willing an action which is in his power, when this action has been once proposed to his mind. The reason therein is wholly manifest, for the action depending upon his will, must una voidably exist or not exist, and its existence or non-exist ence following without fail exactly the determination and choice of his will, he cannot avoid willing the existence or non-existence of this action.
Th. [I should think he could suspend his choice, and that this happens very often; above all, when other thoughts inter rupt deliberation: thus, although the action deliberated upon necessarily exists or not, it does not at all follow that you must necessarily determine upon its existence or non-existence; for non-existence may happen again for want of resolution. Thus the Areopagites actually released the man whose case they had found too difficult to decide, deferring it to a term far distant, and taking a hundred years to consider it.]
Ph. In making man free in this fashion, I mean in making the act of willing depend upon his will, another will or ante rior faculty of volition is necessary in order to determine the acts of this will, and another to determine that, and thus to CH. xxi] ON HUMAN UNDERSTANDING 187 infinity; for wherever you stop, the actions of the last will could not be free.
Tli. [It is true you speak incorrectly when you speak as if we willed to will. We do not will to will, but we will to do, and if we willed to will, we should will to will to will, and this would go on to infinity: meanwhile it is not necessary to conceal that by some voluntary acts we contribute often indi rectly to other voluntary acts, and although one cannot will what he will, as he cannot even judge what he will,1 he can, however, so act in advance that he judges or wills at the time what he would wish to be able to will or judge to-day. Men attach themselves to persons, lectures, and considerations favor able to a certain party, they give no attention to that which comes from the opposite party, and by these addresses and a thousand others which they employ, most frequently without definite design and without thought, they succeed in deceiving themselves or at least in changing and converting or per verting themselves according to what the}' meet.]
§ 25. Ph. Since then it is evident that man is not at lib erty to will to will or not, the next thing demanded is, whether man is at liberty to ivill which of the two he pleases, for example, motion or rest? But this question is in itself so visibly absurd that it may suffice to convince any one who will reflect that freedom in no case concerns the will. For to ask whether a man is free to will what he pleases, motion or rest, speech or silence, is to ask whether a man can will what he wills, or be pleased with that with which he is pleased, a question which, in my opinion, needs no answer.
Tli. [It is true, nevertheless, that men find here a difficulty which deserves to be removed. They say that after having known and considered all, it is still within their power to will not only what pleases them the most, but furthermore wholly the contrary, merely to show their freedom. But you must consider that this caprice or obstinacy, or at least this reason which hinders them from following other reasons, also enters into the balance and makes that please them which would otherwise not do so, so that choice is always determined by perception. They do not then will what they would, but what 1 The French is: " et quoyqu' on ne puisse point vouloir ce qu' on veut, comme on ne pent pas memo juger ce qu' on veut." — Tit.
188 LEIBNITZ'S CRITIQUE OF LOCKE [UK. n pleases, although the will can contribute indirectly and as it were from afar to make anything pleasurable or otherwise, as I have already remarked. And as men scarcely recognize all these separate considerations, it is not astonishing that the mind is so perplexed in regard to this matter which has so many concealed windings.]
§ 29. Ph. When men ask what it is that determines the will, the true reply is, the mind. If this answer is not satis factory, it is plain that the meaning of the question reduces to this: WJiat moves the mind on each particular occasion to deter mine to such particular motion or rest its general power of direct ing its faculties towards motion or rest? To this I reply that what leads us to remain in the same state or continue the same action, is solely the present satisfaction we find therein. On the other hand, the motive which incites to change is always some uneasiness.
Th. [This uneasiness, as I have shown (in the preceding chapter), is not always a displeasure, as ease when found is not always a satisfaction or pleasure. It is often an insensible perception, which cannot be distinguished or recognized, which makes us lean to one side rather than the other, without our being able to give a reason for so doing.]
§ 30. Ph. Will and desire should not be confounded: a man desires to be freed from the gout, but understanding that the removal of this pain may cause the transfer of a dangerous humor into some more vital part, his will cannot be determined to any action, which may serve to remove this pain.
Th. [This desire is a kind of an inclination of will (velleitey as compared with a complete volition. We should will, for example, if there were no greater evil to be feared, if we obtained what we wish, or if perhaps there were a greater good to be hoped for if we went forward. But we can say that man wills to be delivered from the gout with a certain degree of volition, but which does not always go on to the last effort. This volition is called Velleity when it includes some imperfection or impotency.]
§ 31. Ph. It is well to consider, however, that what deter mines the will to act is not the greater good, as is ordinarily supposed, but rather some actual uneasiness, and ordinarily 1 Cf. New Essays, Book. II., chap. 20, § 6, Ph. and note, ante, p. 168. — Tit.
en. xxi] ON HUMAN UNDERSTANDING 189 that which is most pressing. We may give it the name of desire, which is really an uneasiness of mind, caused by the want of some absent good, over and above the desire of being freed from pain. All absent good does not produce a pain proportionate to the degree of excellence which it has or which we acknowledge it to have; whilst all pain causes a desire equal to itself; because the absence of good is not always an evil, as is the presence of pain. Therefore we can look upon and consider an absent good without pain. But in proportion as there is anywhere desire, so is there uneasiness. § 32. Who is there who has not felt in desire what the wise man says of hope, " that being deferred it makes the heart sick " (Prov. 13:12)? Kachel cries "Give me children, or I die " (Gen. 30:1). § 34. When man is perfectly content with the state he is in, or when ho is absolutely free from all uneasiness, what will can remain to him but to continue in that state? Thus the wise Author of our being has put in men the inconvenience of hunger and thirst and other natural desires, in order to arouse and determine their wills to the proper conservation and continuation of their species. " It is better to marry than to burn," says St. Paul (1 Cor. 7:9).
So true it is that the present sensation of a little burning has more power over us than the attractions of greater pleasures looked at in the distance. § 35. It is true that this maxim, it is the good and the greatest good which determines the will, is so firmly established that I am not at all surprised at having formerly regarded it as beyond doubt. But after strict inquiry I am forced to conclude that the good and the greatest good, although judged and acknowledged such, does not deter mine the will; unless coming to desire it in a manner propor tional to its excellence this desire makes us uneasy at our deprivation of it. Suppose a man convinced of the utility of virtue so far as to see that it is necessary to the man who pro poses anything great in this world, or hopes to be happy in the other: but until this man hungers and thirsts after right eousness, his Avill will never be determined to any action in search for this excellent good, and any other uneasiness com ing in the way will drag his will to other things. On the other hand, suppose a man given to wine considers that by leading the life he leads he is ruining his health and wasting his 190 LEIBNITZ'S CRITIQUE OF LOCKE [UK. n property, that he is coming to be dishonored in the world, to bring upon himself disease and to fall at last into poverty until he no longer has wherewith to satisfy this passion for drink which so strongly possesses him: nevertheless, the returns of uneasiness which he feels in being absent from his companions in debauch, drag him to the tavern at the hours he has been wont to go there, though at the time he has before his eyes the loss of his health and estate, and perhaps even that of the happiness of the other life, happiness which he cannot regard as a good inconsiderable in itself, since he admits that it is much more excellent than the pleasure of drinking or the vain chatter of a company of debauchees. It is not then for want of casting the eyes upon the sovereign good that he persists in this intemperance; for he sees it and acknowledges its excellence, to the extent that during the time that intervenes between his drinking hours, he resolves to apply himself to the search for this sovereign good; but when the uneasiness of being deprived of his accustomed pleasure comes to torment him, this good which he acknowl edges more excellent than that of drinking, has no longer power over his mind, and it is this actual uneasiness which determines his will to the action to which it is accustomed, and which thereby making very strong impressions prevails again at the first occasion, although at the same time he binds himself, so to speak, by secret promises no longer to do the same thing, and imagines that this will be the last time that he will act against his highest interest. Thus he finds himself from time to time reduced to saying: Video meliora proboque, Deteriora sequor.1 I see the better way, I approve it, and I take the worse. This sentence which we acknowledge as true, and which is only too well confirmed by a constant experience, is easy to understand in this way, and there is perhaps no other sense in which it can be taken.
Tli. [There is something beautiful and solid in these consid erations. But I would not have you believe on that account that we must abandon those ancient axioms that the will 1 Ovid, Melamorph. 7: lil. — Tu.
en. xxi] OX HUMAN UNDERSTANDING 191 follows the greatest good, or that it flies from the greatest evil that it perceives. The source of the little application to true goods arises mainly from the fact that in matters and on the occasions where the senses act but little, the greater part of our thoughts are, so to speak, surd 1 (I call them cogitationes ccecce in Latin) i.e. void of perception and feeling, and consisting in the wholly empty employment of characters, as happens in the case of those who make algebraic calculations without con sidering from time to time that the geometrical figures in question and the words ordinarily produce the same effect in this regard as the characters of arithmetic or algebra. One often reasons in words without having quite the same object in mind. Now this knowledge cannot move; something living is necessary in order to arouse us. But thus it is that men most frequently think of God, of virtue, of happiness; they speak and reason without definite ideas. Not that they can not have them, since they are in their mind. But they do not trouble themselves to press their analysis. Sometimes they have ideas of an absent good or evil, but very feeble. It is then no wonder that they are scarcely affected. Thus if we prefer the bad it is because we perceive the good which it includes without perceiving either the bad therein or the good in the contrary consideration. We assume and believe, or rather we make the statement merely upon another's belief, or at most upon belief in the memory of our past reasonings, that the greatest good is on the better side, or the greatest evil on the other. But when we do not look at these at all, our thoughts and reasonings contrary to the feeling are a kind of 2~tsittacism 2 which furnishes nothing at present to the mind; and if we take no measures to remedy it, it is idle talk, as I have already remarked above (Bk. I., chap. 2, § 11), and the most beautiful precepts of morality together with the best rules of prudence take effect only in a soul which is sensible (either directly, or, because that cannot always be, at least in directly, as I shall show presently) and which is no longer sensible to that which is contrary thereto. Cicero well says 1 The French is: " gourdes." Of. p. 193, near the end of Th. — TR.
2 Littre thus defines " psittacisine," counting this passage and the one further on, § 37, Th., byway of illustration: "Etat d'esprit danslequel on ne pense ou no parle qu'eu perroquet," i.e. a state of the mind in which one thinks or speaks only as a parrot. — TR.
192 LEIBNITZ'S CRITIQUE OF LOCKE [UK. n somewhere 1 that if our eyes could see the beauty of virtue, we should love it warmly; but that not being at all the case, nor anything equivalent, we must not be astonished if in the strug gle between the flesh and the spirit, the spirit so many times yields, since it does not clearly perceive its advantages. The struggle is nothing else than the opposition of different ten dencies, which spring from confused and distinct thoughts. Confused thoughts often make themselves clearly felt, but our distinct thoughts are ordinarily clear only potentially; they might be clear, if we would apply ourselves to the penetration of the sense of the words or characters; but not doing so, either through negligence, or because of the shortness of time, we oppose mere words, or at least, too feeble images to living feelings. I knew a man influential in church and state, whose infirmities made him resolve to diet; but he ad mitted that he had not been able to resist the odor of the viands, which, passing before his apartment, were carried to others. It is doubtless a disgraceful weakness, but it is just what men have done. But if the mind made good use of its advantages, it would triumph grandly. It would be necessary to begin with education, which should be so regulated as to render true good and true evil as sensible as possible, by in vesting the notions which are formed of them with circum stances more suited to this design; and a full-grown man who lacks this excellent education should commence rather late, than never, to seek pleasures enlightened and reasonable, in order to oppose them to those of the senses, which are con fused but impressive. And in fact, divine grace itself is a pleasure 2 which gives light. Thus Avhen a man is in the midst of good impulses, he ought to make laws and regulations for