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Updated: August 26, 2024
It is the excess of misery, the height of despair, the derangement of his brain, caused by melancholy, that urges man on to destroy himself. Agitated by contrary impulsions, he is, as we have before said, obliged to follow a middle course that conducts him to his death; if man be not a free-agent, in any one instant of his life, he is again much less so in the act by which it is terminated.
There are three ways, says the Archbishop, in which undue elections might have been prevented; not creating a free agent constant interference with his free-will removing him to another state where he would not be tempted to go astray in his choice. A fourth mode may, however, be suggested creating a free-agent without any inclination to evil, or any temptation from external objects.
Hobbes, namely, one that when all things necessary to produce the effect are present, can nevertheless not produce it; but I believe a free-agent of whatever kind is one which, where all things necessary to produce the effect are present, can produce it; its own operation not being hindered by anything else.
Collins says this is “a valuable liberty,” and he says truly; for if one were thrown into prison, he could not go wherever he might please, or do as he might will. But the imprisonment of the body does not prevent a man from being a free-agent.
In other words, external voluntary actions are necessarily caused by volitions, and volitions are necessarily caused by something else other than the will; and consequently the chain is complete between the cause of volition and its effects. How, then, is man a free-agent? and how is he accountable for his actions?
And yet she was no longer a visitor going among strangers this time she went to an assured home, she was to be received among friends. But the knowledge that her liberty was forfeited for ever, that she was a free-agent only on sufferance, made her grave and depressed.
De honah ob de church is japerdized. Neber-de-less he is a free-agent. De lamp still holes out to burn " "An' de wilest sinner can return," interrupted Aun' Sheba, nodding her head repeatedly. "I unerstan'. You means well, Elder." Old Tobe could hold in no longer, and began excitedly, "De question am weder de wile sinner's gwine ter return, or wants ter return, or's got any return in 'im.
Is there an analogous iron chain linking the merest trifles, the frivolous accidents, the apparently worthless coincidences that swell the sum of what we are pleased to call the nobly independent life of the "free-agent" Man? In the matrix of time, do human tears and human blood-drops leave their record, to be conned when Nemesis holds her last assize?
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