notwithstanding his vehement thirst, abstain from drinking it; and it
has, therefore, been falsely concluded that he is a free agent. The
fact, however, is, that the motive in either case is exactly the same:
his own conservation. The same necessity that determined him to drink,
before he knew the water was deleterious, upon this new discovery,
equally determines him not to drink; the desire of conserving himself,
either annihilates or suspends the former impulse; the second motive
becomes stronger than the preceding; that is, the fear of death, or the
desire of preserving himself, necessarily prevails over the painful
sensation caused by his eagerness to drink. But, (it will be said) if
the thirst is very parching, an inconsiderate man, without regarding the
danger, will risque swallowing the water. Nothing is gained by this
remark: in this case, the anterior impulse only regains the ascendency;
he is persuaded, that life may possibly be longer preserved, or that he
shall derive a greater good by drinking the poisoned water, than by
enduring the torment, which, to his mind, threatens instant dissolution:
thus, the first becomes the strongest, and necessarily urges him on to
action. Nevertheless, in either case, whether he partakes of the water,
or whether he does not, the two actions will be equally necessary; they
will be the effect of that motive which finds itself most puissant;
which consequently acts in a most coercive manner upon his will.

This example will serve to explain the whole phaenomena of the human
will. This will, or rather the brain, finds itself in the same situation
as a bowl, which although it has received an impulse that drives it
forward in a straight line, is deranged in its course, whenever a force,
superior to the first, obliges it to change its direction. The man who
drinks the poisoned water, appears a madman; but the actions of fools
are as necessary as those of the most prudent individuals. The motives
that determine the voluptuary, that actuate the debauchee to risk their