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aré pleasing or displeasing, either in theinselves, or considered as a means to a greater and more desirable end. The eating of a well-seasoned dish, suited to a man's palate, may move the mind by the delight itself that accompanies the cating, without reference to any other end : to which the consideration of the pleasure there is in health and strength (to which that meat is subservient) may add a new gusto, able to make us swallow an ill-relished potion. In the latter of these, any action is rendered more or less pleasing, only by the
contemplation of the end, and the being more or less e persuaded of its tendency to it; or necessary connexion
with it: but the pleasure of the action.itself is best acquired or increased by use and practice. Trials of
ten reconcile us to that, which at a distance we looked Tutto
on with aversion; and by repetition's wear: us into a liking of what possibly, in the first essay, displeased' ús. Habits have powerful charìs, and put so strong attractions of easiness ånd pleasure into what we accustom Ourselves to, that we cannot forbear to do, or at least be easy in the omission of actions, which habitual praetice has suited, and thereby recommends to us. Thouch this be very visible, and every one's experience show's him he can do so ; yet it is a part in the conduct of men towards their happiness, neglected to a degree, that it will be possibly entertained as a paradox, if it be
said, that men can make things or actions more or less ve pleasing to themselves, and theréljy remedy' that, to
which one may justly impute a great deal of their wàndering. Fashion and the coinmon opinion having settled wrong notions, and education and customi ill. hábits, the just values of things are misplaced, and the palates of men corrupted. Pains should be taken to rectify these ; and contrary habits change our pleasures, and
give a relish to that which is necessary or conducive to Etich, our happiness. This every one must confess he can do; heart and when happiness is lost, and inisery overtakes him, ofdle, he will confess he did amiss in neglecting it, and conthe demn himself for it: and I ask every one, whether he und Belias not often done so?
Preference of $. 70. I shall not now enlarge any farther svet vice to virtue on the wrong judgments and neglect of a manifest what is in their power, whereby men miswrong judg.
So lead themselves. This would make a voment,
lume, and is not my business. But whatever false notions, or shameful neglect of what is in their power, may put men out of their way to happiness, and distract them, as we see, into so different coursçs of life, this yet is certain, that morality, established upon its true foundations, cannot but determine the choice in any one that will but consider : and he that will not be so far a rational creature as to reflect seriously upon infinite happiness and misery, must needs .condeinn himself as not making that use of his under standing he should. The rewards and punishments of another life, which the Almighty has established as the enforcements of his law, are of weight enough to determine the choice, against whatever pleasure or pain this life can show, when the eternal state is considered but in its bare possibility, which no-body can make any doubt of. He that will allow exquisite and endless happiness to be but the possible consequence of a good life here, and the contrary state the possible reward of a bad ane; must own himself to judge very much amiss if he does not conclude, that a virtuous life, with the certain expectation of everlasting bliss, which may come, is to be preferred to a vicious one, with the fear of that dreadful state of misery, which it is very possible may overtake the guilty; or at best the terrible au uncertain hope of annihilation. This is evidently so, though the virtuous life here had nothing but pain, and we the vicious continual pleasure: which yet is, for the most part, quite otherwise, and wicked men have not much the odds to brag of, even in their present possession; nay, all things rightly considered, have, I think, itu even the worst part here. But when infinite bappinesscom is put into one scale against infinite misery in the other, the if the worst that comes to the pious man, if he misma takes, be the best that the wicked can attain to, if he te be in the right, who can without madness run the venture? Who in his wits would choose to come within
a possibility of infinite misery, which if he miss, there is yet nothing to be got by that hazard ? Whereas on the other side, the sober man ventures nothing against infinite happiness 'to be got, if his expectation comes to pass. If the good man be in the right, he is eternally happy; if he mistakes, he is not miserable, he feels nothing. On the other side, if the wicked be in the right, he is not happy; if he mistakes, he is infinitely miserable. Must it not be a most manifest wrong judgment that does not presently see to which side, in this case, the preference is to be given ? I have forborn to mention any thing of the certainty or probability of a future state, designing here to show the wrong judgment that any one must allow he makes upon his own principles, laid how he pleases, who prefers the short pleasures of a vicious life upon any consideration, whilst he knows, and cannot but be certain, that a future life is at least possible.
$. 71. To conclude this inquiry into human liberty, which as it stood before, I tion. myself from the beginning fearing, and a very judicious friend of mine, since the publication, suspecting to have some mistake in it, though he could not particularly show it me, I was put upon a stricter review of this chapter. Wherein lighting upon a very easy and scarce observable slip I had made, in putting one seemingly indifferent word for another, that disa covery opened to me this present view, which here, in this second edition, I submit to the learned world, and which in short is this : “ Liberty is a power to act "or not to act, according as the mind directs." A power to direct the operative faculties to motion or rest in particular instances, is that which we call the will. That which, in the train of our voluntary actions, determines the will to any change of operation, is some present uneasiness; which is, or at least is always accompanied with, that of desire. Desire is always moved by evil, to fly it; because a total freedom from pain always makes a necessary part of our happiness : but every good, nay every greater good, does not constantly move desire, because it may not inake, or may
not be taken to make any necessary part of our happiness. For all that we desire, is only to be happy. But though this general desire of happiness operates constantly and invariably, yet the satisfaction of any particular desire can be suspended from determining the will to any subservient action, till we have maturely examined, whether the particular apparent good, which we then desire, makes a part of our real happiness, or be consistent or inconsistent with it. The result of our judgment upon that examination is what ultimately determines the man, who could not be free if his will were determined by any thing but his own desire, guided by his own judgment. I know that liberty by some is placed in an indifferency of the man, antecedent to the determination of his will. I wish they, who lay so much stress on such an antecedent indifferency, as they call it, had told us plainly, whether this supposed indifferency be antecedent to the thought and judgment of the understanding, as well as to the decree of the will. For it is pretty hard to state it between them; i. e. immediately after the judgment of the understanding, and before the determination of the will, because the determination of the will immediately follows the judgment of the understanding: and to place liberty in an indifferency, antecedent to the thought and judgment of the understanding, seems to me to place liberty in a state of darkness, wherein we can neither sce nor say any thing of it; at least it places it in a subject incapable of it, no agent being allowed capable of liberty, but in consequence of thought and judgment. I am not nice about phrases, and therefore consent to say, with those that love to speak so, that liberty is placed in indifferency; but it is an indifferency which remains after the judgment of the understanding; yea, even after the determination of the will: and that is an indifferency not of the man, (for after he has once judged which is best, viz. to do, or forbear, he is no longer indifferent) but an indifferency of the operative powers of the man, which remaining cqually able to operate, or to forbear operating after, as, before the decree of the will, are in a state, which,
if one pleases, may be called indifferency; and as far as this indifferency reaches, a man is free, and no farther ; v. g. I have the ability to move my hand, or to let it rest; that operative power is indifferent to move, or not to move, my hand; I am then in that respect perfectly free. My will determines that operative power to rest; I am yet free; because the indifferency of that.my operative power to act, or not to act, still remains; the power of moving my hand is not at all impaired by the determination of my will, which at present orders 'rest; the indifferency of that power to act, or not to act, is just as it was before, as will appear, if the will puts it to the trial, by ordering the contrary: But if during the rest of my hand, it be seized by a sudden palsy, the indifferency of that operative power is gone, and with it,iny liberty ; I have no longer freedom in that respect, but am under a necessity of letting my hand rest. On the other side, if my hand be put into notion by a convulsion, the indifferency of that operative faculty is taken away by that notion, and my liberty in that case is lost; for Tam under a necessity, of having my hand move. I have added this, to show in what sort of indifferency liberty seems to me to consist, and not in any other, real or imaginary.
R. 72. True notions concerning the nature and extent of liberty are of so great importance, that I hope I shall be pardoned this digression, which my attempt to explain it has led me into. The idea of will, volition, liberty, and necessity, in this chapter of power, came naturally in my way. In a former edition of this
treatise, I gave an account of my thoughts concerning * them, according to the light I then lad; and now, as
a lover of truth, and not a worshipper of my own doc
trines, I own some change of my opinion, which I jo think I have discovered ground for. In : what:1. first
writ, I with an unbiassed indifferency. followed truth, * whither I thought she led ige. But neither being so
vain as to fancy infallibility, npr so-disingenuous as to dissemble my mistakes, for fcar:of blernishing my repų tation, I have, with the same sincere design for truth
ine: discover mange of