within him, he supposes himself a free agent; which, literally
translated, signifies that he moves himself by himself; that he
determines himself without cause; when he rather ought to say, he is
ignorant how or for why he acts in the manner he does. It is true the
soul enjoys an activity peculiar to itself, but it is equally certain
that this activity would never be displayed if some motive or some cause
did not put it in a condition to exercise itself, at least it will not
be pretended that the soul is able either to love or to hate without
being moved, without knowing the objects, without having some idea of
their qualities. Gunpowder has unquestionably a particular activity, but
this activity will never display itself, unless fire be applied to it;
this, however, immediately sets in motion.

It is the great complication of motion in man, it is the variety of his
action, it is the multiplicity of causes that move him, whether
simultaneously or in continual succession, that persuades him he is a
free agent: if all his motions were simple, if the causes that move him
did not confound themselves with each other, if they were distinct, if
his machine was less complicated, he would perceive that all his actions
were necessary, because he would be enabled to recur instantly to the
cause that made him act. A man who should be always obliged to go
towards the west would always go on that side, but he would feel
extremely well, that in so going he was not a free agent: if he had
another sense, as his actions or his motion augmented by a sixth would
be still more varied, much more complicated, he would believe himself
still more a free agent than he does with his five senses.

It is, then, for want of recurring to the causes that move him, for want
of being able to analyse, from not being competent to decompose the
complicated motion of his machine, that man believes himself a free