{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_35839/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_35839","id":"gutenberg_35839","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35839","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Edwards, Jonathan, 1703-1758. Freedom of the will","Free will and determinism"],"text":"</pre>\n\n\n\nProduced by Keith G Richardson\n\n\n\n\nEXAMINATION\n\nOF\n\nEDWARDS ON THE WILL.\n\n\n\n\nAN EXAMINATION\n\nOF\n\nPRESIDENT EDWARDS' INQUIRY\n\nINTO THE\n\nFREEDOM OF THE WILL.\n\n\nBY\n\nALBERT TAYLOR BLEDSOE.\n\n\n\"Man, as the minister and interpreter of nature, does and understands as\nmuch as his observations on the order of nature, either with regard to\nthings or the mind, permit him, and neither knows more, nor is capable\nof more.\"--_Novum Organum_.\n\n\nPHILADELPHIA:\n\nH. HOOKER, 16 SOUTH SEVENTH STREET.\n\n1845.\n\n\n\n\nENTERED, according to act of Congress, in the year 1845, by H. HOOKER,\nin the clerk's office of the District Court for the Eastern District of\nPennsylvania.\n\n\nKing & Baird, Printers, 9 George St.\n\n\n\n\nTO\n\nTHE REV. WILLIAM SPARROW, D. D.\n\nAS A TOKEN\n\nOF ADMIRATION FOR HIS GENIUS,\n\nAND\n\nAFFECTIONATE REGARD FOR HIS VIRTUES,\n\nThis little Volume\n\nIS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED,\n\nBY THE AUTHOR.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n  INTRODUCTORY REMARKS\n\n  SECTION I.\n    OF THE POINT IN CONTROVERSY\n\n  SECTION II.\n    OF EDWARDS' USE OF THE TERM CAUSE\n\n  SECTION III.\n    THE INQUIRY INVOLVED IN A VICIOUS CIRCLE\n\n  SECTION IV.\n    VOLITION NOT AN EFFECT\n\n  SECTION V.\n    OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF REGARDING VOLITION AS AN EFFECT\n\n  SECTION VI.\n    OF THE MAXIM THAT EVERY EFFECT MUST HAVE A CAUSE\n\n  SECTION VII.\n    OF THE APPLICATION OF THE MAXIM THAT EVERY EFFECT MUST HAVE A CAUSE\n\n  SECTION VIII.\n    OF THE RELATION BETWEEN THE FEELINGS AND THE WILL\n\n  SECTION IX.\n    OF THE LIBERTY OF INDIFFERENCE\n\n  SECTION X.\n    OF ACTION AND PASSION\n\n  SECTION XI.\n    OF THE ARGUMENT FROM THE FOREKNOWLEDGE OF GOD\n\n  SECTION XII.\n    OF EDWARDS' USE OF THE TERM NECESSITY\n\n  SECTION XIII.\n    OF NATURAL AND MORAL NECESSITY\n\n  SECTION XIV.\n    OF EDWARDS' IDEA OF LIBERTY\n\n  SECTION XV.\n    OF EDWARDS' IDEA OF VIRTUE\n\n  SECTION XVI.\n    OF THE SELF-DETERMINING POWER\n\n  SECTION XVII.\n    OF THE DEFINITION OF A FREE-AGENT\n\n  SECTION XVIII.\n    OF THE TESTIMONY OF CONSCIOUSNESS\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY REMARKS.\n\nI ENTERED upon an examination of the \"Inquiry\" of President Edwards, not\nwith a view to find any fallacy therein, but simply with a desire to\nascertain the truth for myself. If I have come to the conclusion, that\nthe whole scheme of moral necessity which Edwards has laboured to\nestablish, is founded in error and delusion; this has not been because I\ncame to the examination of his work with any preconceived opinion. In\ncoming to this conclusion I have disputed every inch of the ground with\nmyself, as firmly and as resolutely as I could have done with an\nadversary. The result has been, that the views which I now entertain, in\nregard to the philosophy of the will, are widely different from those\nusually held by the opponents of moral necessity, as well as from those\nwhich are maintained by its advocates.\n\nThe formation of these views, whether they be correct or not, has been\nno light task. Long have I struggled under the stupendous difficulties\nof the subject. Long has darkness, a deep and perplexing darkness,\nseemed to rest upon it. Faint glimmerings of light have alternately\nappeared and disappeared. Some of these have returned at intervals,\nwhile others have vanished for ever. Some have returned, and become less\nwavering, and led on the mind to other regions of mingled obscurity and\nlight. Gladly and joyfully have I followed. By patient thought, and\nsustained attention, these faint glimmerings have, in more instances\nthan one, been made to open out into what has appeared to be the clear\nand steady light of truth. If these are not mere fond illusions, the\ntrue intellectual system of the world is far different from that which\nhas been constructed by the logic of President Edwards.\n\nIf his system be false, why, it may be asked, has the Inquiry so often\nappeared to be unanswerable? Why has it been supposed, even by some of\nthe advocates of free agency, that logic is in favour of his system,\nwhile consciousness only is in favour of ours? One reason of this\nopinion is, that it has been taken for granted, that either the scheme\nof President Edwards or that of his opponents must be true; and hence,\nhis system has appeared to stand upon immoveable ground, in so far logic\nis concerned, only because he has, with such irresistible power and\nskill, demolished and trampled into ruins that of his adversaries.\nReason has been supposed to be on his side, because he has so clearly\nshown that it is not on the side of his opponents. But the scheme of the\nmotive-determining power, does not necessarily arise out of the ruins of\nthe self-determining power; it is only to the imagination that it\nappears to do so. Because the one system is false, it does not follow\nthat the other is true.\n\nThere is another and still more powerful reason for the idea in\nquestion. The advocates of free agency have granted too much. The great\nfoundation principles of the scheme of moral necessity have been\nincautiously admitted by its adversaries. These principles have appeared\nso obvious at first view, that their correctness has not been doubted;\nand hence they have been assumed by the one side and conceded by the\nother. Yet, if I am not greatly mistaken, they have been derived, not\nfrom the true oracles of nature, but from what Bacon quaintly calls the\n\"idols of the tribe.\" If this be the case, as I think it will hereafter\nappear to be; then in order to secure a complete triumph over the scheme\nof moral necessity, even on the arena of logic, we must not only know\n_how to reason_, but also _how to doubt_.\n\nI fully concur with the younger Edwards, that \"Clarke, Johnson, Price,\nand Reid have granted too much;\" and while I try to show this, I shall\nalso endeavour to show that President Edwards has assumed too much, not\nfor the good of the cause in which he is engaged, but for the attainment\nof truth.\n\nIf his system had not been founded upon certain natural illusions, by\nwhich the true secrets of nature are concealed from our view, it could\nnever have been the boast of its admirers, \"that a reluctant world has\nbeen constrained to bow in homage to its truth.\" If we would try the\nstrength of this system then, we must bend a searching and scrutinizing\neye upon the premises and assumptions upon which it is based; we must\nput aside every preconceived notion, even the most plausible and\ncommonly received opinions, and lay our minds open to the steady and\nunbiased contemplation of nature, just as it has been created by the\nAlmighty Architect; we must view the intellectual system of the world,\nnot as it is seen through our hasty and careless conceptions, but as it\nis revealed to us in the light of consciousness and severe meditation.\nThis will be no light task, I am aware; but whosoever would seek the\ntruth on such a subject, must not expect to find it by light and\ntrifling efforts; he must go after it in all the loving energy of his\nsoul. Let this course be pursued, honestly and perseveringly pursued,\nand I am persuaded, that a system of truth will be revealed to the mind,\nto which it will not be constrained to render \"a reluctant homage,\" but\nwhich, by harmonizing the deductions of logic with the dictates of\nnature, will secure to itself the most pleasing and delightful homage of\nwhich the human mind is susceptible.\n\nThose false conceptions which are common to the human mind, those \"idols\nof the tribe,\" of which Bacon speaks, have been, as it is well known,\nthe sources of some of the most obstinate errors, both in science and in\nreligion, that have ever infested the world. And it is evident, that\nwhile the assumptions from which any system, however false, legitimately\nresults, are conceded, it will stand, like a wall of adamant, against\nthe most powerful artillery of logic. It will remain triumphant in spite\nof all opposition. It may be contrary to our natural convictions, and\nconsequently liable to our suspicions; but it cannot be refuted by\nargument. Its advocates may reason correctly, and its adversaries may\nappeal to opposite truths; but neither can ever arrive at the truth, and\nthe whole truth. This has appeared to me to be the case, with respect to\nthe long controverted question of liberty and necessity.\n\nThe above causes, conspiring with some instances of false logic, which\nhave been overlooked amid so much that is really conclusive, and also\nwith a number of unsound, yet plausible, devices to reconcile the scheme\nof moral necessity with the reality of virtue and free-agency, have, in\nthe minds of many, rendered the work of President Edwards both an\nacceptable and an unanswerable production. Such, at least, is the\nconclusion to which I have been constrained to come; but whether this\nconclusion be correct or not, it is not for me to determine. Time alone\ncan show, whether the foundation of his system, like that of truth, is\nimmutable, or whether, like many which have been laid by the master\nspirits of other ages, it is destined to pass away, though not to be\nforgotten.\n\nIn the above enumeration of causes I have not alluded to those of a\ntheological nature; because they have been but partial in their\noperation. And besides, I have not wished to refer to this subject at\nall, except in so far as, is necessary to indicate wherein I conceive\nthe errors of the Inquiry to consist, and thereby to point out the\ncourse which I intend to pursue in the following discussion.\n\n\n\nSECTION I.\n\nOF THE POINT IN CONTROVERSY.\n\nIT is worse than a waste of time, it is a grievous offence against the\ncause of truth, to undertake to refute an author without having taken\npains to understand exactly what he teaches. In every discussion, the\nfirst thing to be settled is the point in dispute; and if this be\nomitted, the controversy must needs degenerate into a mere idle\nlogomachy. It seldom happens that any thing affords so much\nsatisfaction, or throws so much light on a controversy, as to have the\npoint at issue clearly made up, and _constantly borne in mind_.\n\nWhat then, is the precise doctrine of the Inquiry which I intend to\noppose? The great question is, says Edwards, what determines the will.\nIt is taken for granted, on all sides, that the will is determined; and\nthe only point is, or rather has been, as to what determines it. It is\ndetermined by the strongest motive, says one; it is not determined by\nthe strongest motive, says another. But although the issue is thus made\nup in general terms, it is very far from being settled with any\ntolerable degree of clearness and precision; ample room is still left\nfor all that loose and declamatory kind of warfare in which so many\ncontroversialists delight to indulge.\n\nThe question still remains to be settled, what is meant by determining\nthe will? In regard to this point, the necessitarian does not seem to\nhave a very clear and definite idea. \"The object of our Inquiry,\" says\nPresident Day, \"is not to learn whether the mind acts at all. This no\none can doubt. Nor is it to determine _why we will at all_. The very\nnature of the faculty of the will implies that we put forth volitions.\nBut the real point of inquiry is, _why we will one way rather than\nanother; why we choose one thing rather than its opposite_,\" p. 42. One\nwould suppose from this statement, that we have nothing to do with the\nquestion, _why we put forth volitions_, but exclusively with the\nquestion, why we will _one way rather than another_. Here the author's\nmeaning seems to be plain, and we may imagine that we know exactly where\nto find him; but, in the very next sentence, he declares that the object\nof our inquiry is, \"what is it that determines _not only that there\nshall be volitions_, but what they shall be?\" p. 42. In one breath we\nare told, that we have nothing to do with the question, why our\nvolitions are put forth or come into existence; these are admitted to be\nimplied in the \"very nature of the faculty of the will;\" but, in the\nvery next, we are informed that we have to inquire into this point also.\nOne moment, only one of these points is in dispute, and the next, both\nare put in controversy. Surely, this does not indicate any very clear\nand definite idea, on the part of President Day, as to the point at\nissue.\n\nThe notion of President Edwards, on this subject, appears to be equally\nunsteady and vacillating. \"Thus,\" says he, \"by determining the will, if\nthe phrase be used with any meaning, _must be intended_, causing that\nthe act of the _will should be thus, and not otherwise:_ and the will is\nsaid to be determined, when, in consequence of some action, or\ninfluence, its choice is directed to, and fixed upon a particular\nobject. As when we speak of the determination of motion, we mean causing\nthe motion of the body to be in such a direction, rather than another,\"\np. 18.\n\nNow, are we to understand from this, that the determination of the will\ncan only refer to the question, why it is directed to and fixed upon a\nparticular object, and not to the question, how it comes to put forth a\nvolition at all? One would certainly suppose so; and that, according to\nEdwards, we have nothing to do with the question, \"How a spirit comes to\nact,\" but with the question, \"why its action has such and such a\nparticular direction and determination.\" But this supposition would be\nvery far from the truth. For he informs us, that \"the question is not so\nmuch, How a spirit endowed with activity comes to act, as why it exerts\nsuch an act, and not another; or why it acts with such a particular\ndetermination?\" This clearly implies, that although the question, \"How a\nspirit comes to act,\" is not chiefly concerned in the present\ncontroversy; yet _it is partly_ concerned in it. This question is\nconcerned in it, though not _so much_ as the other question, why the act\nof the mind is as it is, rather than otherwise.\n\nThis is not all. When Edwards attacks the doctrine of his adversaries,\nin regard to the determining of the will, he never seems to dream of the\nidea, which, according to himself, if the phrase mean any thing, _must_\nbe attached to it. He treats it as a settled point, that by determining\nthe will must be intended, not causing volition to be one way rather\nthan another, but causing it to come into existence. He could take this\nexpression to mean the one thing or the other, just as it suited his\npurpose.\n\nAre these two questions really distinct? Can there be one cause of\nvolition, and another cause of its particular direction? I answer, there\ncannot. No such distinction can be shown to exist by a reference to the\ncause of motion. Force is the cause of motion. One force may put a body\nin motion; and, afterwards, another force may change the direction of\nits motion. Upon a superficial observation, this may seem to illustrate\nthe distinction in question; but, upon more mature reflection, it will\nnot appear to do so. For the force which sets a body in motion\nnecessarily causes it to move in one particular direction, and not\nanother; because it is impossible for a body to move without moving in a\nparticular direction. After one force has put a body in motion, another\nforce, it is true, may change its direction; but in such a case, it is\nnot correct to say, that one force caused its motion and another the\ndirection of that motion. For, in reality, both the motion of the body\nand its direction, result from the joint action of the two forces; or,\nin other words, each force contributes to the motion, and each to its\ndirection. Both the motion and its direction are caused by what is\ntechnically called, in mechanical philosophy, the \"resultant\" of the two\nforces; and the case is really not different, so far as the distinction\nin question is concerned, from the case of motion produced by the action\nof a single force. The absurdity of this distinction consists, in\nsupposing that a body may be put in motion without moving in a\nparticular direction; and that something else beside the cause of its\nmotion, is necessary to account for the direction of that motion. The\nillustration, therefore, drawn from the phenomena of motion, fails to\nanswer the purpose for which President Edwards has produced it.\n\nThe same absurdity is involved in the supposition, that one thing may\ncause volition to exist, and another may cause it to be directed to and\nfixed upon a particular object. No man can conceive of a choice as\nexisting, which has not some particular object. It is of the very nature\nand essence of a choice to have some particular direction and\ndetermination. If a choice exists at all, it must be a choice of some\nparticular thing. Hence, whatever causes a volition to exist, must cause\nit to have a particular direction and determination. Let any one show a\nchoice, which is not the preference of one thing rather than another,\nand then we may admit that there is some reason for the distinction in\nquestion; but until then, we must be permitted to regard it as having no\nfoundation in the nature of things. If it were necessary, this matter\nmight be fully and unanswerably illustrated; but a bare statement of it\nis sufficient to render it perfectly clear.\n\nWe shall hereafter see, that the reason why President Edwards supposed\nthat there is some foundation for such a distinction is, that he did not\nsufficiently distinguish between the cause of a thing and its condition.\nAlthough we may suppose that the \"activity of the soul\" is the cause of\nits acting; yet motive may be the indispensable condition of its acting;\nand, in this sense, may be the reason why a volition is one way rather\nthan another. But it is denied that there can be two _causes_ in the\ncase; one to produce volition, and another to determine its object. We\nhave seen that such a supposition is absurd; and we shall hereafter see,\nthat Edwards was led to make it, by confounding the condition with the\ncause of volition.\n\nAfter all, it may be said, that Edwards himself did not really consider\nthese two things as distinct, but only as different aspects of the same\nthing. If so, it will follow, that when he undertook to establish his\nown scheme, he represented motive as the cause of volition; and yet when\nhe was reminded, that the activity of the nature of the soul is the\ncause of its actions, he replied, that although this may be very true,\nyet this activity of nature is not the \"cause why its acts are thus and\nthus limited, directed and determined.\" He replied that the question is\nnot _so much_, \"How a spirit comes to act,\" as why it acts thus, and not\notherwise. That is to say, it will follow, that he chose to build up his\nscheme under one aspect of it, and to defend it under another aspect\nthereof; that as the architect of his system, he chose to assume and\noccupy the position, that motive is the cause of volition itself; yet as\nthe defender of it, he sometimes preferred to present this same position\nunder the far milder aspect, that although \"the activity of spirit, may\nbe the cause why it acts,\" yet motive is the cause why its acts are thus\nand thus limited, &c. In other words, it will follow, that his doctrine\npossesses two faces; and that with the one it looks sternly on the\nscheme of necessity, whilst, with the other, it seems to smile on its\nadversaries.\n\nThe truth is, the great question which President Edwards discusses\nthroughout the Inquiry, as we shall see, is \"How a spirit comes to act;\"\nand the other question, \"why its action is thus and thus limited,\" &c.,\nwhich, on occasion, swells out into such immense importance, as to seem\nto cover the whole field of vision, generally shrinks down into\ncomparative insignificance. As a general thing, he goes along in the\neven tenor of his way, to prove that no event can begin to be without a\ncause of its existence; and, in particular, that no volition can come\ninto existence without being caused to do so by motive; and it is only\nwhen it is urged upon him, that \"a spirit endowed with activity\" may\ngive rise to its own acts, that he takes a sudden turn and reminds us,\nthat the question is not so much \"how a spirit comes to act?\" as \"why\nits acts are thus and thus limited?\"\n\nFrom the supposition made by Edwards, that \"if activity of nature be the\ncause why a spirit acts,\" it has been concluded that he regarded the\nsoul of man as the efficient cause of its volitions, and motive as\nmerely the occasion on which they are put forth or exerted. But surely,\nthose who have so understood the Inquiry, have done so very unadvisedly,\nand have but little reason to complain, as they are prone to do, that\nhis opponents do not understand him. If Edwards makes mind the efficient\ncause of volition, what becomes of his famous argument against the\nself-determining power, by which he reduces it to the absurdity of an\ninfinite series of volitions? \"If the mind causes its volition,\" says\nhe, \"it can do so only by a preceding volition; and so on _ad\ninfinitum_.\" Is not all this true, on the supposition that the mind is\nthe efficient cause of volition? And if so, how can any reader of\nEdwards, who does not wish to make either his author or himself appear\nridiculous, seriously contend that he holds mind to be the efficient, or\nproducing cause of volition? There be pretended followers and blind\nadmirers of President Edwards, who, knowing but little of his work\nthemselves, are ever ready to defend him, whensoever attacked, even by\nthose who have devoted years to the study of the Inquiry, by most\nignorantly and flippantly declaring that they do not understand him.\nThese pseudo-disciples will not listen to the charge, that Edwards makes\nthe strongest motive the producing cause of volition; but whether this\ncharge be true or not, we shall see in the following section.\n\n\n\nSECTION II.\n\nOF EDWARDS' USE OF THE TERM CAUSE.\n\nWE have already seen that Edwards must be understood as holding motive\nto be the cause of volition; but still we cannot make up the issue with\nhim, until we have ascertained in what sense he employs the term\n_cause_. It has been contended, by high authority, that he did not\nregard motive as the efficient, or producing cause of volition, but only\nas the occasion or condition on which volition is produced. Hence, it\nbecomes necessary to examine this point, and to settle the meaning of\nthe author, in order that I may not be supposed to misrepresent him, and\nto dispute with him only about words.\n\nThe above notion is based on the following passage:\n\n\"I would explain,\" says President Edwards, \"how I would be understood\nwhen I use the word _cause_ in this discourse; since, for want of a\nbetter word, I shall have occasion to use it in a sense which is more\nextensive, than that in which it is sometimes used. The word is often\nused in so restrained a sense as to signify only that which has a\npositive efficiency or influence to produce a thing, or bring it to\npass. But there are many things which have no such positive productive\ninfluence; which yet are causes in this respect, that they have truly\nthe nature of a reason why some things are, rather than others; or why\nthey are thus rather than otherwise.\". . . . \"I sometimes use the word\n_Cause_, in this Inquiry, to signify any antecedent, either natural or\nmoral, . . . upon which an event so depends, that it is the ground or\nreason, either in whole or in part, why it is, rather than not; or why\nit is as it is, rather than otherwise; or, in other words, any\nantecedent with which a consequent event is so connected, that it truly\nbelongs to the reason why the proposition which affirms that event, is\ntrue; whether _it has any positive influence, or not_. And, agreeably to\nthis, I sometimes use the term _effect_ for the consequence of another\nthing, which is perhaps rather an occasion than cause, most properly\nspeaking.\" And he tells us, that \"I am the more careful thus to explain\nmy meaning, that I may cut off occasion, from any that might seek\noccasion to cavil and object against some things which I may say\nconcerning the dependence of all things which come to pass, on some\ncause, and their connection with their cause,\" p. 50-1.\n\nThis is the portion of the Inquiry on which the younger Edwards founds\nhis conclusion, that his father did not regard motive as the _efficient_\ncause of volition, but only as the occasion, or condition, or antecedent\nof volition. He finds this language in the Essays of Dr. West; \"We\ncannot agree with Mr. Edwards in his assertion, that motive is the cause\nof volition;\" and he replies, \"Mr. Edwards has very particularly\ninformed us in what sense he uses the term _cause_;\" and, in proof of\nthis, he proceeds to quote a portion of the above extracts from the\nInquiry. Having done this, he triumphantly demands, \"Now, does Dr. West\ndeny, that motive is an antecedent, on which volition, either in whole\nor in part depends? or that it is a ground or reason, either in whole or\nin part, either by positive influence or not, why it is rather than not?\nSurely, he cannot with consistency deny this, since he says, 'By motive\nwe understand the _occasion_, end or design, which an agent has in view\nwhen he acts.' So that, however desirous Dr. West may be to be thought\nto differ, in this point, from President Edwards, it appears that he\nmost exactly agrees with him,\" p. 65.\n\nNow, if Edwards really believed that motive is merely the occasion on\nwhich the mind acts, agreeing herein most perfectly with Dr. West, why\ndid he not say so? Why adhere to the term cause, which can only obscure\nsuch an idea, instead of adopting the word occasion, or condition, or\nantecedent, which would have clearly expressed it? Surely, if Edwards\nmaintained the doctrine ascribed to him, he has been most unfortunate in\nhis manner of setting it forth; it is a great pity he did not give it a\nmore conspicuous place in his system. It is to be regretted, that he has\nnot once told us that such was his doctrine, in order that we might see\nfor ourselves his agreement with Dr. West in this respect, instead of\nleaving it to the initiated few to enlighten us on this subject.\n\nHe has, we are told, \"very particularly informed us in what sense he\nuses the word cause,\" p. 64. Now is this so? Has he informed us that by\n_cause_ he means _occasion?_ He has done no such thing, and his language\nadmits of no such construction. He merely tells us, that he _sometimes_\nuses the term cause to signify an occasion only; but when and where he\nso employs it, he has not explained at all. He has not once said, that\nwhen he applies it to motive he uses it in the sense of an occasion, or\nantecedent; and, if he had said so, it would not have been true. The\ntruth is, that he has used the word in question with no little vagueness\nand indistinctness of meaning; for he sometimes employs it to signify\nmerely an occasion, which exerts no positive influence, and sometimes to\nsignify a producing cause. This is the manner in which he uses it, when\nhe applies it to motive. In his definition of motive, as the younger\nEdwards truly says, he includes \"_every cause_ or occasion of volition;\"\nevery thing which has a \"tendency to volition;\" &c., p. 104. Thus,\naccording to the younger Edwards himself, the elder Edwards has, in his\ndefinition of motive, included every conceivable cause of volition; and\nyet, when Dr. West objects that he makes motive the producing cause of\nvolition, the very same writer replies that he has done no such thing:\nthat he has \"very particularly explained in what sense he uses the word\ncause\" when applied to motive, and that he means \"by _cause_, no other\nthan _occasion, reason, or previous circumstance necessary for\nvolition_; and that in this Dr. West entirely agrees with him,\" p. 65.\nIf we may believe the younger Edwards, then, when the author of the\nInquiry says, that motive is the cause of volition, he means that it is\nno other than the occasion or previous circumstance necessary to\nvolition, and not that it is the cause thereof in the proper sense of\nthe word; and yet that it is the cause thereof in every conceivable\nsense of the word! Now, he agrees with Dr. West himself; and again, he\nteaches precisely the opposite doctrine! Let those who so fondly imagine\nthat they are the only men who understand the Inquiry, and that the most\nelaborate replies to it may be sufficiently refuted by raising the cry\nof \"misconstruction;\" let them, I say, take some little pains to\nunderstand the work for themselves, instead of merely giving echo to the\nblunders of the younger Edwards.\n\nPresident Edwards says, that the term cause is often used in so\nrestrained a sense as to signify that which has \"a _positive efficiency_\nor _influence_ to _produce_ a thing, or bring it to pass.\" It is in this\nrestrained sense that I use the word, when I say that President Edwards\nregarded motive as the cause of volition; and it is in this sense that I\nintend to make the charge good. I intend to show that he regarded\nmotive, not merely as the occasion or condition of volition, but as that\nwhich _produces_ it. This position, as we have seen, has been denied by\nhigh authority; and therefore it becomes necessary to establish it, in\norder that I may not be charged with disputing only about words; and\nthat although I may be exceedingly \"desirous of being thought to differ\nwith President Edwards\" on this subject, yet I do \"most exactly agree\nwith him.\"\n\nTo begin then;--if motive is merely the condition on which the mind\nacts, and exerts no influence in the production of volition, it is\ncertainly improper to say, that it _gives rise to volition_. This\nclearly implies that it is the efficient, or producing cause of\nvolition. On this point, let the younger Edwards himself be the judge.\n\"That self-determination _gives rise_ to volition,\" is an expression\nwhich he quotes from Dr. Chauncey, and italicizes the words \"gives rise\nto,\" as showing that the author of them regarded the mind as the\nefficient cause of volition. Now, President Edwards says, that the\n\"strongest motive excites the mind to volition;\" and he adds, that \"the\nnotion of exciting, is _exerting influence to cause the effect to arise\nand come forth into existence_,\" p. 96. Surely, if to give rise to a\nthing, is efficiently to cause it, no less can be said of exerting\ninfluence \"to _cause it to arise and come forth into existence_.\" And if\nso, then, according to the younger Edwards himself, the author of the\nInquiry regarded motive as the efficient cause of volition; and yet, on\np. 66 he declares, that President Edwards did not hold \"motive to be the\nefficient cause of volition;\" and that if he has dropped any expression\nwhich implies such a doctrine, it must have been an inadvertency. I\nintend to show, before I have done, that there are many such\ninadvertencies in his work; the younger Edwards himself being the judge.\n\nNow, it will not be denied, that that which produces a thing, is its\nefficient cause. The younger Edwards himself has spoken of an\n\"_efficient, producing_ cause,\" in such a manner as to show that he\nregarded them as convertible terms, p. 46. He being judge, then, that\nwhich produces a thing, is its efficient cause. I might easily show, if\nit were necessary, that he himself frequently speaks of motive as the\nefficient, or producing cause of volition; but, at present, I am only\nconcerned with the doctrine of President Edwards. \"It is true,\" says\nPresident Edwards, \"I find myself possessed of my volitions before I can\nsee the effectual power of any cause to _produce_ them, for the power\nand _efficacy_ of the cause is not seen but by the effect,\" p. 277.\nHere, from the volition, from the effect, he infers the operation of the\ncause or power which _produces_ it. Now this cause is motive, the\nstrongest motive; for this is that which operates to induce a choice.\nMotive, then, _produces_ volition, according to the Inquiry; it is not\nmerely the condition on which it is produced.\n\nThe younger Edwards declares, that President Edwards did not regard\n\"motive as the efficient cause of volition,\" p. 66, but only as the\n\"occasion or previous circumstances necessary to volition;\" in this\nrespect \"most exactly agreeing with Dr. West\" himself; and yet he tells\nus, in another place, that \"every cause of volition is included in\nPresident Edwards' definition of motive,\" p. 104. Now, does not every\ncause of volition include the efficient cause thereof? Does not this\nexpression include that which is the cause of volition in the real, in\nthe only proper, sense of the word?\n\nTo save the consistency of the author, will it be said, that \"every\ncause\" does not include the efficient cause in his estimation, since in\nhis opinion there is no such cause? If this should be said, it would not\nbe true; for the younger Edwards did, as it is well known, regard the\ninfluence of the Divine Being as the efficient cause of volition. He\nregarded the Deity as the sole fountain of all efficiency in heaven and\nin earth. Hence, if the definition of President Edwards included \"every\ncause\" of volition; it must have included this divine influence, this\nefficient cause. Indeed, the younger Edwards expressly asserts, that\nthis \"divine influence\" is included in President Edwards' \"explanation\nof his idea of motive,\" p. 104. He tells us, then, that President\nEdwards regards motive as merely the _occasion_ of volition; and yet\nthat he considered motive as including the efficient cause of volition!\nAt one time, motive is merely the antecedent, which exerts no influence;\nat another, it embraces the efficient cause! At one time, the author of\nthe Inquiry \"most exactly agrees\" with the libertarian in regard to this\nall-important point; and, at another, he most perfectly disagrees with\nhim! It is to be hoped, that President Edwards is not quite so glaringly\ninconsistent with himself, on this subject, as he is represented to be\nby his distinguished son.\n\nAgain. President Edwards has written a section to prove, that \"volitions\nare necessarily connected with the influence of motives;\" which clearly\nimplies that they are brought to pass by the influence of motives. In\nthis section, he says, \"Motives do nothing, as motives or inducements,\nbut by their influence. And so much as is _done by their influence_ is\nthe effect of them. For that is the notion of an effect, something that\n_is brought to pass_ by the influence of something else.\" Here motives\nare said to be the causes of volitions, and to _bring them to pass by\ntheir influence_. Is this to make motive merely the condition on which\nthe mind acts? Is this to consider it as merely an antecedent to\nvolition, which exerts no influence? On the contrary, does it not\nstrongly remind one of that \"restrained sense of the word cause,\" in\nwhich it signifies, that which \"has an influence to produce a thing, _or\nbring it to pass?_\"\n\nOnce more. In relation to the acts of the will, he adopts the\nfollowing language to show that they are necessarily dependent on the\ninfluence of motives: \"For an event to have a cause and ground of its\nexistence, and yet not be connected with its cause, is an inconsistency.\nFor if the event be not connected with the cause, it is not dependent on\nits cause; its _existence_ is as it were _loose from its influence_; and\nit may attend it, or it may not; its being a mere contingency, whether\nit follows or attends the influence of the cause, or not; and that is\nthe same thing as not to be dependent on it. And to say the event is not\ndependent on its cause, _is absurd_; it is the same thing as to say, it\nis not its cause, nor the event the effect of it; for dependence on _the\ninfluence of a cause is the very notion of an effect_. If there be no\nsuch relation between one thing and another, consisting in the connexion\nand dependence of one thing on the influence of another, then it is\ncertain there is no such relation between them as is signified by the\nrelation of cause and effect,\" p. 77-8. Now, here we are told, that it\nis the very notion of an effect, that it owes its existence to the\ninfluence of its cause; and that _it is absurd_ to speak of an effect\nwhich is loose from the influence of its cause. It is this influence,\n\"which causes volition to arise and come forth into existence.\" Any\nother notion of cause and effect is absurd and unmeaning. And yet,\nPresident Edwards informs us, that he sometimes uses the term cause to\nsignify any antecedent, though it may exert no influence; and that he so\nemploys it, in order to prevent cavilling and objecting. Now, what is\nall this taken together, but to inform us, that he sometimes uses the\nword in question _very absurdly_, in order to keep us from finding fault\nwith him? The truth is, that whatever apparent concession President\nEdwards may have made, he does habitually bring down the term _cause_ to\nits narrow and restrained sense, to its strict and proper meaning, when\nhe says, that motive is the cause of volition. He loses sight entirely\nof the idea, that it is only the _occasion_ on which the mind acts.\n\nI might multiply extracts to the same effect almost without end; but it\nis not necessary. It must be evident to every impartial reader of the\nInquiry, that even if the author really meant by the above extracts,\nthat motive is merely the antecedent to volition; this was only a\nmomentary concession made to his opponents, with the vague and\nill-defined hope, perhaps, that it would render his system less\nobnoxious to them. It had no abiding place in his mind. It was no sooner\nuttered than it was repelled and driven away by the whole tenor of his\nsystem. We soon hear him, as if no such thing had ever been dreamed of\nin his philosophy, asking the question, and that too, in relation to\nmotives, \"What _can be meant by a cause_, but something that is the\nground and reason of a thing _by its influence_, AN INFLUENCE THAT IS\nPREVALENT AND EFFECTUAL,\" p. 97. Will it be pretended, that this does\nnot come up to his definition of an efficient cause, as that which\nbrings something to pass by \"a _positive_ influence?\" Such a pretext\nwould amount to nothing; for Edwards has said, that \"motives excite\nvolition;\" and \"to excite, _is to be a cause in the most proper sense,\nnot merely a negative occasion, but a ground of existence by positive\ninfluence,_\" p. 96.\n\nAn efficient cause is properly defined by the Edwardses themselves.\n\"Does not the man talk absurdly and inconsistently,\" says the younger\nEdwards, \"who asserts, that a man is the efficient cause of his own\nvolitions, yet puts forth no exertion in order to cause it? If any other\nway of _efficiently_ causing an effect, be possible or conceivable, let\nit be pointed out,\" p.49. President Edwards evidently entertained the\nsame idea; for he repeatedly says, that if the mind be the cause of its\nown volitions, it must cause them by a preceding act of the mind. The\nobjection which he urges against the self-determining power, is founded\non this idea of a cause. It is what he means, when he says, that the\nterm _cause_ is \"often used in so restrained a sense as to signify only\nthat which has a _positive efficiency_ or _influence_ to _produce_ a\nthing, or _bring it to pass_.\"\n\nThat President Edwards regarded motive as the efficient or producing\ncause of volition, according to his own notion of it, is clear not only\nfrom numerous passages of the Inquiry; it is also wrought into the very\nsubstance and structure of his whole argument. It is involved in his\nvery definition of the strongest motive. The strongest motive, says he,\nis the whole of that which \"_operates_ to induce a particular choice.\"\nNow, to say that one thing _operates_ to induce another, or bring it\ninto existence, is, according to the definition of the younger Edwards\nhimself, to say that it is the efficient cause of the thing so produced.\nIf there be any meaning in words, or any truth in the definition of the\nEdwardses, then to say that one thing operates to produce another, is to\nsay that it is its efficient cause. President Edwards, as we have seen,\nholds that motive is \"the effectual power and efficacy\" which produces\nvolition.\n\nAgain. Edwards frequently says, that \"if this great principle of common\nsense, that every effect must have a cause, be given up, then there will\nbe no such thing as reasoning from effect to cause. We cannot even prove\nthe existence of Deity. If any thing can begin to be without a cause of\nits existence, then we cannot know that there is a God.\" Now, the sense\nin which this maxim is here used is perfectly obvious; for nothing can\nbegin to be without an efficient cause, by which it is brought into\nexistence. When we reason from those things which begin to be up to God,\nwe clearly reason from effects to their efficient causes. Hence, when\nthis maxim is applied by Edwards to volitions, he evidently refers to\nthe efficient causes of them. If he does not, his maxim is misapplied;\nfor it is established in one sense, and applied in another. If it proves\nany thing, it proves that volition must have an efficient cause; and\nwhen motive is taken to be that cause, it is taken to be the efficient\ncause of volition.\n\nThis is not all. Edwards undertakes to point out the difference between\nnatural and moral necessity. In the case of moral necessity, says he,\n\"the cause with which the effect is connected is of a particular kind:\nviz., that which is of a moral nature; either some previous habitual\ndisposition, or some motive presented to the understanding. And the\neffect is also of a particular kind, being likewise of a moral nature;\nconsisting in some inclination or volition of the soul, or voluntary\naction.\" But the difference, says he, \"does not lie so much _in the\nnature of the connection_, as in the two terms connected.\" Now, let us\nsuppose that any effect, the creation of the world, for example, is\nproduced by the power of God. In this case, the connection between the\neffect produced, the creation of the world, and the act of the divine\nomnipotence by which it is created, is certainly the connection between\nan effect and its efficient cause. The two terms are here connected by a\nnatural necessity. But we are most explicitly informed, that the\nconnection between motives and volitions, differs from this in the\nnature of the two terms connected, rather than in the nature of the\nconnection. How could language more clearly or precisely convey the\nmeaning of an author? To say that President Edwards does not make motive\nthe efficient cause of volition, is, indeed, not so much to interpret,\nas it is to new model, his philosophy of the will.\n\nThe connection between the strongest motive, he declares, and the\ncorresponding volition, is \"absolute,\" just as absolute as any\nconnection in the world. If the strongest motive exists, the volition is\nsure to follow; it necessarily follows; it is _absurd_ to suppose, that\nit may attend its cause or not. To say that it may follow the influence\nof its cause, or may not, is to say that it is not dependent on that\ninfluence, that it is not the effect of it. In other words, it is to say\nthat a volition is the effect of the strongest motive, and yet that it\nis not the effect of it; which is a plain contradiction. Such, as we\nhave seen, is the clear and unequivocal teaching of the Inquiry.\n\nIn conclusion, if Edwards really held, that motive does not produce\nvolition, but is merely the occasion on which it is put forth, where\nshall we find his doctrine? Where shall we look for it? We hear him\ncharged with destroying man's free-agency, by making motive the\nproducing cause of volition; and we see him labouring to repel this\ncharge. Truly, if he held the doctrine ascribed to him, we might have\nexpected to find some allusion to it in his attempts to refute such a\ncharge. If such had been his doctrine, with what ease might he have\nrepelled the charge in question, and shown its utter futility, by simply\nalleging that, according to his system, motive is the occasion, and not\nthe producing cause, of volition? Instead of the many pages through\nwhich he has so laboriously struggled, in order to bring our ideas of\nfree-agency and virtue into harmony with his scheme; with what infinite\nease might a single word have brought his scheme into harmony with the\ncommon sentiments of mankind in regard to free-agency and virtue!\nIndeed, if Edwards really believed that motive is merely the condition\non which the mind acts, nothing can be more wonderful than his profound\nsilence in regard to it on such an occasion; except the great pains\nwhich, on all occasions, he has taken to keep it entirely in the\nbackground. If the younger Edwards is not mistaken as to the true import\nof his father's doctrine, then, instead of setting it forth in a clear\nlight, so that it may be read of all men, the author of the Inquiry has,\nindeed, enveloped it in such a flood of darkness, that it is no wonder\nthose who have been so fortunate as to find it out, should be so\nfrequently called upon to complain that his opponents do not understand\nhim. Indeed, if such be the doctrine of the Inquiry, I do not see how\nany man can possibly understand it, unless he has inherited some\npeculiar power, unknown to the rest of mankind, by which its occult\nmeaning may be discerned, notwithstanding all the outward appearances by\nwhich it is contradicted and obscured.\n\nThe plain truth is, as we have seen, that President Edwards holds motive\nto be the producing cause of volition. According to his scheme,\n\"Volitions are necessarily connected with the influence of motives;\"\nthey \"are brought to pass by the prevailing and effectual influence\" of\nmotives. Motive is \"the effectual power and efficacy\" by which they are\n\"produced.\" They are not merely caused to be thus, and not otherwise, by\nmotive; they are \"caused to arise and come forth into existence.\" This\nis the great doctrine for which Edwards contends; and this is precisely\nthe doctrine which I deny. _I contend against no other kind of necessity\nbut this moral necessity, just as it is explained by Edwards himself_.\n\nHere the issue with President Edwards is joined; and I intend to hold\nhim steadily to it. No ambiguity of words shall, for a moment, divert my\nmind from it. If his arguments, when thoroughly sifted and scrutinized,\nestablish this doctrine; then shall I lay down my arms and surrender at\ndiscretion. But if his assumptions are unsound, or his deductions false,\nI shall hold them for naught. If he reconciles his scheme of moral\nnecessity with the reality of virtue, with the moral agency and\naccountability of man, and with the purity of God; then I shall lay\naside my objections; but if, in reality, he only reconciles it with the\nsemblance of these things, whilst he denies their substance, I shall not\nbe diverted from an opposition to so monstrous a system, by the fair\nappearances it may be made to wear to the outward eye.\n\n\n\nSECTION III.\n\nTHE INQUIRY INVOLVED IN A VICIOUS CIRCLE.\n\nTHE great doctrine of the Inquiry seems to go round in a vicious circle,\nto run into an insignificant truism. This is a grave charge, I am aware,\nand I have ventured to make it only after the most mature reflection:\nand the justness of it, may be shown by a variety of considerations.\n\nIn the first place, when we ask, \"what determines the will?\" the author\nreplies, \"it is the strongest motive;\" and yet, according to his\ndefinition, the strongest motive is that which determines the will.\nThus, says Edwards, \"when I speak of the strongest motive, I have\nrespect to the whole that operates to induce a particular act of\nvolition, whether that be the strength of one thing alone, or of many\ntogether.\" If we ask, then, what produces any particular act of\nvolition, we are told, it is the strongest motive; and if we inquire\nwhat is the strongest motive, we are informed, it is the whole of that\nwhich operated to produce that particular act of volition. What is this\nbut to inform us, that an act of volition is produced by that which\nproduces it?\n\nIt is taken for granted by President Edwards, that volition is an\neffect, and consequently has a cause. The great question, according to\nhis work, is, what is this cause? He says it is the strongest motive; in\nthe definition of which he includes every thing that in any way\ncontributes to the production of volition; in other words, the strongest\nmotive is made to embrace every thing that acts as a cause of volition.\nThis is the way in which he explains himself, as well as the manner in\nwhich he is understood by others. Thus, says the younger Edwards, \"in\nhis explanation of his idea of motive, he mentions all agreeable objects\nand views, all reasons and arguments, and all internal biases and\ntempers, which have a tendency to volition; i. e. every _cause_ or\n_occasion_ of volition,\" p. 104. Every reader of President Edwards must\nbe satisfied that this is a correct account of his definition of motive;\nand this being the case, the whole amounts to just this proposition,\nthat volition is caused by that which causes it! He admits that it would\nbe hard, if not impossible, to enumerate all those things and\ncircumstances which aid in the production of volition; but still he is\nquite sure, that the whole of that which operates to produce a volition\ndoes actually produce it! Though he may have failed to show wherein\nconsists the strength of motives; yet he contends that the strongest\nmotive, or the cause of volition, is really and unquestionably the cause\nof volition! Such is the great doctrine of the Inquiry.\n\nIf this is what the Inquiry means to establish, surely it rests upon\nunassailable ground. Well may President Day assert, that \"to say a\nweaker motive prevails against a stronger one is to say, that that which\nhas the least influence has the greatest influence,\" p. 66. Now who\nwould deny this position of the learned president? Who would say, that\nthat which has the greatest influence has not the greatest influence?\nSurely, this great doctrine is to the full as certain as the newly\ndiscovered axiom of professor Villant, that \"a thing is equal to\nitself!\"\n\nPresident Day, following in the footsteps of Edwards, informs us that\nthe will is determined by the strongest motive; but how shall we know\nwhat is the strongest motive? \"The strength of a motive,\" says he, \"is\nnot its prevailing, but the power by which it prevails. Yet we may very\nproperly measure _this power by the actual result!_\" Thus are we gravely\ninformed that the will is determined by that which determines it.\n\nAgain. If we suppose there is a real strength in motives, that they\nexert a positive influence in the production of volitions, then we\nconcede every thing to President Edwards. For, if motives are so many\nforces acting upon the will, to say that the strongest will prevail, is\nsimply to say that it is the strongest. But if motives exert no positive\ninfluence, then when we say that one is stronger than another, we must\nbe understood to use this expression in a metaphorical sense; we must\nrefer to some property of motives which we figuratively call their\nstrength, and of which we suppose one motive to possess a greater degree\nthan another. If this be so, what is this common property of motives,\nwhich we call their strength? If they do not possess a real strength, if\nthey do not exert an efficient influence; but are merely said,\nmetaphorically speaking, to possess such power and to exert such\ninfluence; then what becomes of the self-evidence which President\nEdwards claims for his fundamental proposition motives exert a real\nforce, of course the strongest must prevail; but if they only have\nsomething else about them, which we call their strength, it is not\nself-evident that the motive which possesses this something else in the\nhighest degree must necessarily prevail. Hence, the great doctrine of\nPresident Edwards is either a proposition whose truth arises out of the\nvery definition of the terms in which it is expressed, or it is utterly\ndestitute of that axiomatical certainty which he claims for it. In other\nwords, he has settled his great doctrine of the will by the mere force\nof a definition; or he has left its foundations quite unsettled.\n\nMotives, as they are called, are different from each other in nature and\nin kind; and hence, it were absurd to compare them in degree. \"The\nstrongest motive,\" therefore, is a mode of expression which can have no\nintelligible meaning, unless it be used with reference to the influence\nwhich motives are supposed to exert over the mind. This is the sense in\nwhich it clearly seems to be used by Edwards. The distinguishing\nproperty of a motive, according to his definition, is nothing in the\nnature of the motive itself; it consists in its adaptedness \"to move or\nexcite the mind to volition;\" nor indeed could he find any other way of\nmeasuring or determining what he calls the strength of motives, since\nthey are so diverse in their own nature from each other. He could not\nhave given any plausible definition of the strength of motives, if he\nhad looked at them as they are in themselves; and hence, he was under\nthe necessity of defining it, by a reference to the \"degree of tendency\nor _advantage_ they have to move or excite the will.\" Thus, according to\nthe Inquiry, the will is determined by the strongest motive; and yet we\ncan form no intelligible idea of what is meant by the strongest motive,\nunless we conceive it to be that which determines the will. The matter\nwill not be mended, by alleging that the strongest motive is not defined\nto be that which actually determines the will, but that which has the\ngreatest degree of previous tendency or advantage, to excite or move it;\nfor we cannot know what motive has this greatest degree of previous\ntendency or advantage, except by observing what motive actually does\ndetermine the will.\n\nThis leads us to another view of the same subject. The strength of a\nmotive, as President Edwards properly remarks, depends upon the state of\nthe mind to which it is addressed. Hence, in a great majority of cases,\nwe can know nothing about the relative strength of motives, except from\nthe actual influence which they exert over the mind of the individual\nupon whom they are brought to bear. This shows that the universal\nproposition, that the will is _always_ determined by the strongest\nmotive, can be known to be true, only by assuming that the strongest\nmotive is that by which the will is determined.\n\nThe same thing may be made to appear from another point of view. It has\nbeen well said by the philosopher of Malmsbury, \"that experience\nconcludeth nothing universally.\" From experience we can pronounce, only\nin so far as we have observed, and no farther. But the proposition, that\nthe will is always determined by the strongest motive, is a universal\nproposition; and hence, if true at all, its truth could not have been\nlearnt from observation and experience. It must depend upon the very\ndefinition of the terms in which it is expressed. We cannot say that the\nwill is in all cases determined by the strongest motive, unless we\ninclude in the very idea and definition of the strongest motive, that it\nis such that it determines the will. President Edwards not only does,\nbut he must necessarily, go around in this circle, in order to give any\ndegree of clearness and certainty to his doctrine.\n\nThat President Edwards goes around in this vicious circle, may be shown\nin another way. \"It appears from these things,\" says he, \"that in some\nsense, _the will always follows the last dictate of the understanding_.\nBut then the _understanding_ must be taken in a large sense, as\nincluding the whole faculty of perception or apprehension, and not\nmerely what is called reason or judgment. If by the last dictate of the\nunderstanding is meant what reason declares to be best, or most for the\nperson's happiness, taking in the whole of its duration, it is not true,\nthat the will always follows the last dictate of the understanding,\" p.\n25. In this place, President Edwards gives no distinct idea of what he\nmeans by the last dictate of the understanding, which the will is said\nto follow in all cases. But in the eighth volume of his works, that\ndictate of the understanding which the will is said to follow, is called\nthe \"practical judgment;\" and this is defined to be, \"that judgment\nwhich men make of things that prevail, so as to determine their actions\nand govern their practice.\" Here again are we informed, that the will\nalways follows the practical judgment, and that the practical judgment\nis that which men make of things that prevail, so as to determine the\nwill.\n\nThe Inquiry itself furnishes abundant evidence, that I have done its\nauthor no injustice. \"I have chosen,\" says he, \"rather to express myself\nthus, _that the will always is as the greatest apparent good, or as what\nappears most agreeable_, than to say the will is determined by the\ngreatest apparent good, or by what seems most agreeable; because an\nappearing most agreeable to the mind, and the mind's preferring, seem\nscarcely distinct. If strict propriety of speech be insisted on, it may\nmore properly be said, that the _voluntary action_, which is the\nimmediate consequence of the mind's choice, is determined by that which\nappears most agreeable, than the choice itself.\" After all, then, it\nseems that choice itself, or volition, is not determined by that which\nappears the most agreeable; because, in reality, the sense of the most\nagreeable and volition are one and the same thing. But surely, if we\ncannot distinguish between choice and the sense of the most agreeable,\nthen to say that the one always is as the other, is only to say that a\nthing is always as it is. Edwards saw the absurdity of saying that a\nthing is determined by itself; but he does not seem to have seen how\ninsignificant is the proposition, that a thing is always as it is, and\nnot otherwise; and hence this is the form in which he has chosen to\npresent the great leading idea of his work on the will. And henceforth\nwe are to understand, that the preference of the mind is always as that\nwhich appears most agreeable to the mind; or, in other words, that the\npreference or choice of the mind is always as the choice of the mind.\n\nThis is not all. President Edwards himself has frequently reduced the\nfundamental doctrine of the Inquiry to an identical proposition. It is\nwell known, that \"to be determined by the strongest motive,\" \"to follow\nthe greatest apparent good,\" \"to do what is most agreeable,\" or \"what\npleases most,\" are all different modes of expression employed by him to\nset forth the same fundamental doctrine. In speaking of this doctrine,\nhe says: \"There is scarcely a plainer and more _universal_ dictate of\nthe sense and experience of mankind, than that, when men act\nvoluntarily, and do what they please, then they do what suits them best,\nor what is most _agreeable to them_. To say, that they do what _pleases_\nthem, but yet not what is agreeable to them, is the same thing as to\nsay, they do what they please, but do not act their pleasure; and that\nis to say, that they do what they please, and yet do not what they\nplease.\" Most assuredly, if to deny the leading proposition of the\nInquiry, is to deny that men do what they please when they do what they\nplease; then to affirm it, is only to advance the insignificant truism,\nthat men do what they please when they do what they please. It seems to\nme, that after President Edwards had reduced his fundamental proposition\nto such a truism, he might very well have spared himself the three\nhundred pages that follow.\n\nAgain, he says: \"It is manifest that no acts of the will are contingent,\nin such sense as to be without all necessity, or so as not to be\nnecessary with a necessity of consequence and connection; because every\nact of the will is some way connected with the understanding, and is as\nthe greatest apparent good is, in the manner which has already been\nexplained; namely, that the soul always wills or chooses that, which in\nthe present view of the mind, considered in the whole of that view, and\nall that belongs to it, appears most agreeable. Because, as we observed\nbefore, nothing is more evident than that, when men act voluntarily, and\ndo what they please, then they do what appears most agreeable to them;\nand to say otherwise would be as much as to affirm, that men do not\nchoose what appears to suit them best, or what seems most pleasing to\nthem; or that they do not choose what they prefer, _which brings the\nmatter to a contradiction_.\"\n\nThus, the great fundamental doctrine of the Inquiry is reduced by\nEdwards himself to the barren truism, that men do actually choose what\nthey choose; a proposition which the boldest advocate of free-agency\nwould hardly dare to call in question. After labouring through a whole\nsection to establish this position, the author concludes by saying,\n\"These things may serve, I hope, in some measure to illustrate and\nconfirm the position laid down in the beginning of this section: viz.\nThat the will is always determined by the strongest motive, or by the\nview of the mind which has the greatest previous tendency to excite\nvolition. But whether I have been so happy as rightly to explain the\nthing wherein consists the strength of motives, or not, _yet my failing\nin this will not overthrow the position itself; which carries much of\nits own evidence along with it, and is a point of chief importance to\nthe purpose of the ensuing discourse:_ and the truth of it I hope will\nappear _with great clearness_, before I have finished what I have to say\non the subject of human liberty.\" Truly the position in question, as it\nis explained by the author himself, carries not only much, but all, of\nits own evidence along with it. Who can deny that a man always does what\nhe pleases, when he does what he pleases? This truth appears with just\nas great clearness at the beginning, as it does at the conclusion, of\nthe celebrated Inquiry of the author. It is invested in a flood of\nlight, which can neither be increased by argument, nor obscured by\nsophistry.\n\nFrom the foregoing remarks, it appears, I think, that the fundamental\ndoctrine of the Inquiry is a barren truism, or a vicious circle. If\nEdwards understood the import of his own doctrine, when he reduced it to\nthe form that a man does what he pleases when he does what he pleases,\nit is certainly a truism; and if this is all his famous doctrine amounts\nto, it can have no bearing whatever upon the question as to the cause of\nvolition; for whether the mind be the cause of its own volitions, or\nwhether the strongest motive always causes them, or whether they have no\ncauses at all, it is equally and unalterably true, that every man does\nwhat he pleases when he does what he pleases. There is no possible form\nof the doctrine of free-agency or contingency, however wild, which is at\nall inconsistent with such a truism.\n\nEdwards is not always consistent with himself. He sometimes represents\nthe greatest apparent good, or sense of the most agreeable, as the cause\nof volition; and then his doctrine assumes the form, that the will is\ndetermined by the strongest motive, or the greatest apparent good. And\nyet he sometimes identifies a sense of the most agreeable with the\nchoice itself; and then his doctrine assumes the form that the choice of\nthe mind is always as the choice of the mind; and to deny it is a plain\ncontradiction in terms.\n\nFrom the fact that Edwards has gone round in a circle, it has been\nconcluded that he has begged the question; but how, or wherein he has\nbegged it, is a point which has not been sufficiently noticed. The very\nauthors who have uttered this complaint, have granted him the very thing\nfor which he has begged. If volition is an _effect_, if it has a\n_cause_, then most unquestionably the cause of volition is the cause of\nvolition. Admit that volition is an effect, as so many libertarians have\ndone, and then his definition of motive, which includes every cause of\nvolition, places his doctrine upon an immutable foundation. We might as\nwell heave at the everlasting mountains as to try to shake it.\n\nAdmit that volition is an effect, and what can we say? Can we say, that\nthe strongest motive may exist, and yet no volition may follow from it?\nTo this the necessitarian would instantly reply, that it any thing\nexists, and no volition follows thereupon, it is evidently not the cause\nof volition, and consequently is not the strongest motive; for this,\naccording to the definition, includes every cause of volition: it is\nindeed absurd, to suppose that an effect should not proceed from its\ncause: This is the ground taken both by President Edwards and President\nDay. It is absurd, says the latter, to suppose that a weaker motive, or\nany thing else, can prevail over the stronger--and why? Because the\nstrongest motive is that which prevails. \"If it be said,\" he continues,\n\"that _something else_ gives the weaker motive a superiority over the\nstronger; _then this something else is itself a motive_, and the united\ninfluence of the two is greater than that of the third,\" p. 66. Thus,\nsay what we will, we can never escape this admirable net of words, that\nthe will is determined by that which determines it.\n\nI do not intend, then, to engage in the hopeless task, of admitting\nvolition to be an effect, and yet striving to extricate it from \"the\nmechanism of cause and effect.\" This ground has long since been occupied\nby much abler persons than myself; and if they have failed of success,\nfalling into innumerable inconsistencies, it is because, on such ground,\nsuccess is impossible; and that notwithstanding their transcendant\nabilities, they have been fated to contradict themselves.\n\n\n\nSECTION IV.\n\nVOLITION NOT AN EFFECT.\n\nTHE argument of the Inquiry, as I have shown, assumes that a volition is\nan effect in the proper sense of the word; that it is the correlative of\nan efficient cause. If it were necessary, this point might be\nestablished by a great variety of additional considerations; but, I\npresume that every candid reader of the Inquiry is fully satisfied in\nrelation to it.\n\nIf we mean by an effect, every thing that comes to pass, of course a\nvolition is an effect; for no one can deny that it comes to pass. Or, if\nwe include in the definition of the term, every thing which has a\nsufficient reason and ground of its existence, we cannot deny that it\nembraces the idea of a volition. For, under certain circumstances, the\nfree mind will furnish a sufficient reason and ground of the existence\nof a volition. All that I deny is, that a volition does proceed from the\nmind, or from motive, or from anything else, in the same manner that an\neffect, properly so called, proceeds from its efficient cause.\n\nThis is a point on which I desire to be distinctly understood. I put\nforth a volition to move my hand. The motion of the hand follows. Now,\nhere I observe the action of the mind, and also the motion of the hand.\nThe effect exists in the body, in that which is by nature passive; the\ncause in that which is active, in the mind. The effect produced in the\nbody, in the hand, is the passive result of the prior direct action of\nthe mind. It is in this restricted sense, that I use the term in\nquestion, when I deny that a volition is an effect. I do not deny that\nit depends for its production upon certain circumstances, as the\nconditions of action, and upon the powers of the mind, by which it is\ncapable of acting in view of such circumstances. All that I deny is,\nthat volition results from the prior action of mind, or of\ncircumstances, or of any thing else, in the same manner that the motion\nof body results from the prior action of mind. Or, in other words, I\ncontend that action is the invariable antecedent of bodily motion, but\nnot of volition; that whatever may be its relations to other things, a\nvolition does not sustain the same relation to any thing in the\nuniverse, that an effect sustains to its efficient cause, that a passive\nresult sustains to the direct prior action by which it is produced. I\nhope I may be _always_ so understood, when I affirm that a volition is\nnot an effect.\n\nIt is in this narrow and restricted sense that Edwards assumes a\nvolition to be an effect. He does not say, in so many words, that the\nmind cannot put forth a volition, except in the way of producing it by a\npreceding volition or act of the will; but he first assumes a volition\nto be an effect; and then he asserts, that the mind can be the cause of\nno _effect_, (italicising the term effect,) except by the prior action\nof the mind. Thus, having assumed a volition to be an effect, he takes\nit for granted that it cannot proceed from the mind in any way, except\nthat in which any effect in the outer world proceeds from the mind; that\nis to say, except it be produced by the direct prior action of the mind,\nby a preceding volition. Thus he brings the idea of a volition under the\nabove narrow and restricted notion of an effect; and thereby confounds\nthe relation which subsists between mind and its volitions, with the\nrelation which subsists between mind and its external effects in body.\nIn other words, on the supposition that our volitions proceed from the\nmind, he takes it for granted that they must be produced by the\npreceding action of the mind; just as an effect, in the limited sense of\nthe term, is produced by the prior action of its cause. It is in this\nassumption, that Edwards lays the foundation of the logic, by which he\nreduces the self-determining power of the mind to the absurdity of an\ninfinite series of volitions.\n\nIt is evident that such is the course pursued by Edwards; for he not\nonly calls a volition, an effect, but he also says, that the mind can\n\"bring no _effects_ to pass, but what are consequent upon its acting,\"\np. 56. And again he says, \"The will determines which way the hands and\nfeet shall move, by an act of choice; and _there is no other way_ of the\nwill's determining, directing, or commanding any thing at all.\" This is\nvery true, if a volition is such an effect as requires the prior action\nof something else to account for its production, just as the motion of\nthe \"hands and feet\" requires the action of the mind to account for its\nproduction; but it is not true, if a volition is such an effect, that\nits existence may be accounted for by the presence of certain\ncircumstances or motives, as the conditions of action, in conjunction\nwith a mind capable of acting in view of such motives. In other words,\nhis assertion is true, if we allow him to assume, as he does, that a\nvolition is an effect, in the above restricted meaning of the term; but\nit is not true, if we consider a volition as an effect in a larger sense\nof the word. Hence, the whole strength of Edwards' position lies in the\nsense which he arbitrarily attaches to the term _effect_, when he says\nthat a volition is an effect.\n\nNow, is a volition an effect in such a sense of the word? Is it brought\ninto existence, like the motion of body, by the prior action of any\nthing else? We answer, No. But how shall this point be decided? The\nnecessitarian says, a moment before the volition did not exist, now it\ndoes exist; and hence, it necessarily follows, that there must have been\na cause by which it was brought into existence. That is to say, it\n_must_ be an effect. True, it must be an effect, if you please; but in\nwhat sense of the word? Is volition an effect, in the same sense that\nthe motion of the body is an effect? This is the question.\n\nAnd this question, I contend, is not to be decided by abstract\nconsiderations, nor yet by the laying of words together, and drawing\nconclusions from them. It is a question, not of logic, but of\npsychology. By whatever name you may please to call it, the true nature\nof a volition is not to be determined by reference to abstractions, nor\nby the power of words; but _by simply looking at it and seeing what it\nis_. If we would really understand its nature, we must not undertake to\n_reason it out;_ we must _open our eyes_, and _look_, and _see_. The\nformer course would do very well, no doubt, if the object were to\nconstruct a world for ourselves; but if we would behold the glory of\nthat which God has constructed for us, and in us, we must lay aside the\nproud syllogistic method of the schools, and betake ourselves to the\nhumble task of observation--of patient, severe, and scrutinizing\nobservation. There is no other condition on which we can \"enter into the\nkingdom of man, which is founded in the sciences.\" There is no other\ncourse marked out for us by the immortal Bacon: and if we pursue any\nother we may wander in the dazzling light of a thousand abstractions,\nand behold whatever fleeting images of grandeur and of beauty we may be\npleased to conjure up for ourselves; but the pure light of nature and of\ntruth will be hid from us.\n\nWhat then is a volition just as it is revealed to us in the light of\nconsciousness? Does it result from the prior action of mind, or of\nmotive, or of any thing else? In other words, is it an _effect_, as the\nmotion of body is an effect!\n\nWe always conceive of the subject in which such an effect resides, as\nbeing wholly passive. President Edwards himself has repeatedly said,\nthat it is the very notion of an effect, that it results from the action\nor influence of its cause; and that nothing is any further an effect,\nthan as it proceeds from that action or influence. The subject in which\nit is produced, is always passive as to its production; and just in so\nfar as it is itself active, it is not the subject of an effect, but the\nauthor of an action. Such is the idea of an effect in the true and\nproper sense of the word.\n\nNow does our idea of a volition correspond with this idea of an effect?\nIs it produced in the mind, and is the mind passive as to its\nproduction? Is it, like the motion of a body, the passive result of the\naction of something else? No. It is not the result of action; it is\naction itself. The mind is not passive as to its production; it is in\nand of itself an action of the mind. It is not _determined_; it is a\n_determination_. It is not a produced effect, like the motion of body;\nit is itself an original producing cause. It does seem to me, that if\nany man will only reflect on this subject, he must see that there is a\nclear and manifest difference between an ACT and an EFFECT.\n\nAlthough the scheme of Edwards identifies these two things, and his\nargument assumes them to be one and the same; yet his language, it\nappears to me, frequently betrays the fact, that his consciousness did\nnot work in harmony with his theory. While speaking of the acts of the\nwill as effects, he frequently says, that it is the very idea of an\neffect that it results from, and is necessarily connected with, the\naction of its cause, and that it is absurd to suppose that it is free or\nloose from the influence of its cause.\n\nAnd yet, in reference to volitions, he often uses the expression, \"_this\nsort_ of effects,\" as if it did not exactly correspond with the \"very\nidea of an effect,\" from which it is absurd to depart in our\nconceptions. When he gives fair play to consciousness, he speaks of\ndifferent kinds of effects; and yet, when he returns to his theory and\nhis reasoning, all this seems to vanish; and there remains but one\nclear, fixed, and definite idea of an effect, and to speak of any thing\nelse as such is absurd. He now and then pays a passing tribute to the\npower of consciousness, by admitting that the soul exerts its own\nvolitions, that the soul itself acts; but he no sooner comes to the work\nof argument and refutation, than it is motive that \"causes them to be\nput forth or exerted,\" p. 96. Ever and anon, he seems to catch a whisper\nfrom the voice of consciousness; and he concedes that he sometimes uses\nthe term cause to designate that which has not a _positive_ or\n_productive_ influence, p. 50-1. But this is not when he is engaged in\nthe energy of debate. Let Mr. Chubb cross his path; let him hear the\nvoice of opposition giving utterance to the sentiment, that \"in motive\nthere is no causality in the production of action;\" and that moment the\nvoice of consciousness is hushed in the most profound silence. He rises,\nlike a giant, in the defence of his system, and he declares, that \"to\nexcite,\" as motives do, \"is positively to do something,\" and \"certainly\nthat which does something, is the cause of the thing done by it.\" Yea,\n\"to excite, _is to cause in the most proper sense, not merely a negative\noccasion_, but a ground of existence by _positive influence_,\" p. 96.\n\nThese passages, which are scattered up and down through the Inquiry, in\nwhich the doctrine of liberty seems to be conceded, I cannot but regard\nas highly important concessions. They have been used to show that we\nmisconceive the scheme of Edwards, when we ascribe to him the doctrine\nof fate. But when they are thus adduced, to show that we misrepresent\nhis doctrine, I beg it may be remembered that such evidence can prove\nonly one of two things; either that we do not understand what he\nteaches, or that he is not always consistent with himself.\n\nIf he really held the doctrine of fatalism, we ought not to be surprised\nthat he has furnished such evidence against himself. It is not in the\nnature of the human mind to keep itself always deaf to the voice of\nconsciousness. It is not in the power of any system always to counteract\nthe spontaneous workings of nature. Though the mind should be surrounded\nby those deep-seated, all-pervading, and obstinate illusions, by which\nthe scheme of fatalism is made to wear the appearance of self-evident\ntruth; yet when it loses sight of that system, it will, at times, speak\nout in accordance with the dictates of nature. The stern and unrelenting\nfeatures of fatalism cannot always be so intimately present to the mind,\nas entirely to exclude it from the contemplation of a milder and more\ncaptivating system of philosophy. Notwithstanding the influence of\nsystem, how rigid soever may be its demands, the human mind will, in its\nmoments of relaxation, recognize _in its feelings_ and _in its\nutterance_, those great truths which are inseparable from its very\nnature.\n\nLet it be borne in mind, then, that there is more than one process in\nthe universe. Some things are produced, it is most true, by the prior\naction of other things; and herein we behold the relation of cause and\neffect, properly so called; but it does not follow, that all things are\nembraced by this _one_ relation. This appears to be so only to the mind\nof the necessitarian; from which one fixed idea has shut out the light\nof observation. He no longer sees the rich variety, the boundless\ndiversity, there is in the works of God: all things and all modes and\nall processes of the awe-inspiring universe, are made to conform to the\nnarrow and contracted methods of his own mind. Look where he will, he\nsees not the \"free and flowing outline\" of nature's true lineaments; he\nevery where beholds the image of the one fixed idea in his mind,\nprojected outwardly upon the universe of God; behind which the true\nsecrets and operations of nature are concealed from his vision. Even\nwhen he contemplates that living source of action, that bubbling\nfountain of volitions, the immortal mind of man itself, he only beholds\na _thing_, which is made to act by the action of something else upon it;\njust as a body is made to move by the action of force upon it. His\nphilosophy is, therefore, an essentially shallow and superficial\nphilosophy. The great name of Edwards cannot shield it from such\ncondemnation.\n\n\n\nSECTION V.\n\nOF THE CONSEQUENCES OF REGARDING VOLITION AS AN EFFECT.\n\nIT has been frequently conceded that a volition is an effect; but to\nmake this concession, without explanation or qualification, is to\nsurrender the whole cause of free agency into the hand of the enemy. For\nif a volition is an effect, properly speaking, the only question is as\nto its efficient cause: it is necessarily produced by its cause.\n\nTo make this matter clear, let us consider what is precisely meant by\nthe term cause when it is thus used? An effect is necessarily connected,\nnot with the _thing_ which is sometimes called its cause, but with the\n_action_ or _positive influence_ of that thing. Thus, the mind, or the\npower of the mind, is sometimes said to be the cause of motion in the\nbody; but this is not to speak with philosophical precision. No motion\nof the body is necessarily connected, either with the mind itself, or\nwith the power of the mind. In other words, if these should lie dormant,\nor fail to act, they would produce no bodily motion. But let the mind\nact, or will a particular motion, and the body will necessarily move in\nconsequence of that action. Hence, it is neither with the mind, nor with\nthe power of the mind, that bodily motion, as an effect, is necessarily\nconnected; it is with an act of the mind or volition that this necessary\nconnection subsists. A cause is said to imply its effect: it is not the\nmind, but an act of the mind, that implies motion in the body.\n\nThis is evidently the idea of Edwards, when he says, as he frequently\ndoes, that an effect is necessarily connected with the _influence_ or\n_action_ of its cause. The term _cause_ is ambiguous; and when he says,\nthat an effect is necessarily connected with its cause, he should be\nunderstood to mean, in accordance with his own doctrine, that the cause\nreferred to _is the influence_ or _action_ by which it is produced, and\nnot the thing which exerts that _influence_ or _action_. Thus, although\nmotives are said to be causes of action, he contends, they can do\nnothing except by their influence; and so much as results from their\ninfluence is the effect of that influence, and is necessarily connected\nwith it.\n\nNow, if a volition is an effect, if it has an efficient cause, what is\nthat cause? By the _action_ of what is it produced? It cannot be by the\nact of the mind, says Edwards, because the mind can produce an _effect_\nonly by another act. Thus, on the supposition in question, we cannot\nascribe a volition to the mind as its cause, without being compelled to\nadmit that it results from a preceding act of the mind. But that\npreceding act, on the same supposition, will require still another\npreceding act to account for its production; and so on _ad infinitum_.\nSuch is the absurdity which Edwards delighted to urge against the\nself-determining power of the mind. It is triumphantly based on the\nconcession that a volition is an effect; that as such the prior _action_\nof something else is necessary to account for its existence. And if we\nsuppose, in accordance with the truth, that a volition is merely a state\nof the mind, which does not sustain the same relation to the mind that\nan effect does to its efficient cause, this absurdity will vanish. The\ndoctrine of liberty will no longer be encumbered with it.\n\nNow, proceeding on the same supposition, let us conceive of a volition\nas resulting from the influence exerted by motive. If an _act_ of the\nmind is an effect, surely we may say, that the act or productive\ninfluence of motive, or of any thing else, is likewise an effect; and\nconsequently must have a cause to account for its existence; and so on\n_ad infinitum_. Hence, the very absurdity which Edwards charges upon our\nsystem, really attaches to his own.\n\nWill it be said that this _ad infinitum_ absurdity does not result from\nthe supposition in question, but from the fact that the mind can do\nnothing except by its action or influence? It is very true, as Edwards\nrepeatedly declares, that the mind can be the cause of no _effect_,\nexcept by a preceding act of the mind. The truth of this proposition is\ninvolved in the very idea which he attaches to the term _effect_, and it\nis based upon this idea alone. And we may say, with equal propriety,\nthat motive can be the cause of no _effect_, except by its action or\nproductive influence. Indeed, Edwards himself expressly says, that\nmotives can do nothing, except by an exertion of their influence, or by\noperating to produce effects. Thus, the two cases are rendered perfectly\nparallel; and afford the same foundation on which to erect an infinite\nseries of causes.\n\nTo evade this, can it be pretended, that motive just exerts this\ninfluence of itself? May we not with equal, nay, with infinitely greater\npropriety, contend that mind just exerts its own positive influence of\nitself? Or, will it be said, that it is a mistake, to suppose that\nEdwards ascribed any real, productive, or causal influence to motives;\nthat he regarded them as the _occasions_ on which the mind acts, and not\nproperly as the _causes_ of its action? If so, then the whole scheme of\nmoral necessity is abandoned, and the doctrine of liberty is left to\nstand upon its own foundation, in the undisputed evidence of\nconsciousness.\n\nThe truth is, if we take it for granted, that a volition is an effect,\nproperly so called, and as such must proceed from the prior action of\nsomething else, we cannot escape the _ad infinitum_, absurdity of the\nInquiry. If we rise from this platform, we cannot possibly ascend in any\ndirection, without entering upon an infinite series of causes. Whether\nwe ascend through the self-determining power of the mind, or through the\ndetermining power of motives, or through the joint action of both, we\ncan save ourselves from such an absurd consequence only by a glaring act\nof inconsistency. Hence, we are forced back upon the conclusion that\naction may, and _actually does_ arise in the world of mind, without any\nefficient or producing cause of its existence, without resulting from\nthe prior action of any thing whatever. Any other hypothesis is involved\nin absurdity.\n\nLet it be assumed, that a volition is, properly speaking, an effect, and\nevery thing is conceded. On this vantage ground, the scheme of necessity\nmay be erected beyond the possibility of an overthrow. For, even if we\n\"suppose that action is determined by the will and free choice,\" this\n\"is as much as to say, that it must be necessary, being dependent upon,\nand determined by something foregoing; namely, a foregoing act of\nchoice,\" p. 199. Let the above position be conceded, and there is no\nescape from this conclusion. Nay, the conclusion itself is but another\nmode of stating the position assumed.\n\nIt is evident, then, that action must take its rise somewhere in the\nworld, without being caused by prior action; or else there must be an\ninfinite series of acts. I say it takes its rise in the mind, in that\nwhich is essentially active, and not in matter. Edwards does not say,\nthat it takes its rise in matter; and hence, there is no dispute on this\npoint. It is very remarkable, that this objection to his scheme, that it\nruns into an infinite series, seems never to have occurred to President\nEdwards. He seems to have endeavoured to anticipate and reply to all\npossible objections to his system; and yet this, which has occurred to\nso many others, appears not to have occurred to himself, for he has not\nnoticed it.\n\nThe younger Edwards has attempted to reply to it. Let us see his reply.\n\"We maintain,\" says he, \"that action may be the effect of a divine\ninfluence; or that it may be the effect of one or more second causes,\nthe first of which is immediately produced by the Deity. Here then is\nnot an infinite series of causes, but a very short series, which\nterminates in the Deity or first cause,\" p. 121. Thus, according to the\nyounger Edwards, the infinite series of causes is cut short, terminating\nin the volition of Deity. What! does the volition of God come into\nexistence without a cause of its existence? What then becomes of \"that\ngreat principle of common sense,\" so often applied to volition, that no\nevent can begin to be without a cause of its existence? Is this great\nprinciple given up? Has it become obsolete?\n\nIt may be contended, that although human volition is an effect, and so\nmust have a cause; yet the divine volition is not an effect. The elder\nEdwards could not have taken this ground; for he contends, that the\nvolition of Deity is just as necessarily connected With the strongest\nmotive, or the greatest apparent good, as is the volition of man.\nAccording to the Inquiry, all volitions, both human and divine, are\nnecessarily connected with the greatest apparent good, and in precisely\nthe same manner. The above pretext, therefore, could not have been set\nup by him.\n\nThis ground, however, is taken by the younger Edwards. \"It is granted,\"\nsays he, \"that volition in the Deity is not an effect,\" p. 122; it has\nno cause, and here terminates the series. But how is this? Can some\nevent, after all, begin to be without having a cause of its existence?\nwithout being an effect? By no means. How is it then? Why, says the\nlearned author, the volitions of the Deity have existed from all\neternity! They have no causes; because they have never begun to be!\n\n\"I deny,\" says he, \"that the operations and energies of the Deity _begin\nin time_, though the effects of those operations do. They no more begin\nin time than the divine existence does; but human volitions all begin in\ntime,\" p. 123. This makes all the difference imaginable; for as the\ndivine acts have existed from all eternity, so they cannot be caused.\n\nBut there is an objection to this view. \"If it should be said,\" he\ncontinues, \"that on this supposition the effects take place not till\nlong after the acts, by which they are produced, I answer, they do so in\nour view, but not in the view of God. With him there is no time, no\nbefore nor after with respect to time,\" p. 124.\n\nNow, it will not be denied, that things appear to God just as they are\nin themselves; and hence, if his volitions, which are said to exist long\nbefore their effects, even from all eternity, appear to him not to exist\nlong before them; then they do not in reality exist long before them.\nBut if the divine volitions do not really exist long before their\neffects, but just before them, as other causes do before their effects,\nwhy should they not have causes as well as any other volitions? If they\nreally exist just before their effects in time, and not long before\nthem, why do they not exist in time just as much as any other volitions?\nand why do they not as much require causes to account for their\nexistence? If they only seem to us to exist long before their effects,\neven from all eternity, how can this mere seeming make any real\ndifference in the case? There is a very short series, we are told, the\nvolition of Deity constituting the first link. Has not this first link,\nthis volition of the Deity, a cause? No. And why? Because it has existed\nfrom all eternity; and so nothing could go before it to produce it. Did\nit not exist long before the effect then, which it produces in time? No.\nAnd why? Because in the view of God and in reality, it existed just\nbefore its effect, as all causes do, and therefore there is no real\nseverance of cause and effect in the case! It really comes just before\nits effect in time, and therefore there is no severance of cause and\neffect; and yet it really existed before all time, even from all\neternity, and therefore it cannot have a cause! Now is this logic, or is\nit legerdemain?\n\nThere is no time with God, says the author; then there is no time in\nreality; it is all an illusion arising from the succession of our own\nthoughts. If this be so, then all things do really come to pass\nsimultaneously; and if there were a very long series, even an infinite\nseries of causes and effects, yet would they all come to pass in the\nsame instant. Indeed, there is very great uncertainty about the\nspeculations of philosophers in regard to time and space; and we hardly\nknow what to make of them, except we cannot very well understand them;\nbut one thing is abundantly certain; and that is, that it is not good\nlogic, to assert that a particular cause cannot be produced, because it\nhas existed long before its effect, even from all eternity; and yet\nrepel objections to this assertion, by alleging that they only seem to\ndo so, while in reality there is no such tiling. This is to turn from\nthe illusion to the reality, and from the reality to the illusion, just\nas it suits the exigency of the moment. Such are the poor shifts and\nshallow devices, to which even gifted minds are reduced, when they\nrefuse to admit that action, that volition, may take its rise in the\nworld, spontaneously proceeding from mind itself, without being made to\ndo so by the action of any thing upon it.\n\nLet us suppose, that a man should tell us, that a producing cause\nexisted long before its effect; that there was nothing to prevent it\nfrom bringing its effect to pass; and yet, long after it had existed,\nits effect sprang up and came into existence; what should we think?\nShould we not see that it is absurd, in the highest degree, to say that\nan unimpeded causative act existed yesterday, and even from all\neternity, unchanged and unchangeable; and yet its effect did not come to\npass until to-day? Surely, no man in his right mind can be made to\nbelieve this, unless it be forced upon him by the desperate necessities\nof a false system; and if any person were told, that although such a\nthing may seem absurd to us, inasmuch as the cause seems to exist in\nfull operation long before its effect, yet it is not so in the view of\nGod, with whom there is no time, should he not be pardoned if he doubted\nthe infallibility of his informant?\n\nThe truth is, we must reason about cause and effect as they appear to\nus; and whether time be an illusion or not, we must, in all our\nreasonings, conceive of cause and effect as conjoined in what we call\ntime, or we cannot reason at all. According to the younger Edwards, the\nact of creation, not the mere purpose to create, but the real causative\nact of creation, existed in the divine mind from all eternity. Why then\ndid the world spring up and come into existence at one point of time\nrather than another? How happened it, that so many ages rolled away, and\nthis mighty causative act produced no effect? In view of such a case,\nhow could the author have said, as he frequently does, that a cause\nnecessarily implies its effect? How can this be, if a causative act of\nthe Almighty may exist, and yet, for millions of ages, its omnipotent\nenergy produce no effect? Indeed, such a doctrine destroys all our\nnotions of cause and effect; it overthrows \"the great principle of\ncommon sense\" that cause and effect necessarily imply each other; and\ninvolves all our reasoning from cause to effect, and _vice versa_, in\nthe utmost perplexity and confusion. It throws clouds and darkness over\nthe whole field of inquiry.\n\nSince the time of Dr. Samuel Clarke, it has been frequently objected to\nthe scheme of moral necessity, that it is involved in the great\nabsurdity of an infinite series of causes. President Edwards urged this\nobjection against the doctrine of the self-determining power; he did not\nperceive that it lay against his own scheme of the motive-determining\npower; and hence, he has not even attempted to answer it. This was\nreserved for the younger Edwards; and although he has deservedly ranked\nhigh as a logician, I cannot but regard his attempt to answer the\nobjection in question, as one of the most remarkable abortions in the\nhistory of philosophy.\n\n\n\nSECTION VI.\n\nOF THE MAXIM THAT EVERY EFFECT MUST HAVE A CAUSE.\n\nIN a former section, I referred to some of the false assumptions which\nhave been incautiously conceded to the necessitarian, and in which he\nhas laid the foundations of his system; but I have not, as yet, alluded\nto the argument or deduction in which he is accustomed to triumph. This\nargument, strange as it may seem, is a deduction, not from any principle\nor general fact which has been ascertained by observation or experience,\nbut from a self-evident and universal truth.\n\nThat every effect must have a cause, is the maxim upon which the\nnecessitarian takes his stand, and from which he delights to draw his\nfavourite conclusion. It may be well, therefore, to examine the argument\nwhich has been so frequently erected upon the maxim in question.\nAlthough from various considerations, it has been very justly concluded,\nthat there is somewhere a lurking fallacy in the argument, yet it has\nnot been precisely shown where the fallacy lies. Suspicion has been\nthrown over it: nay, abundant reason has been shown why it should be\nrejected; but yet the fallacy of it should be dragged from the place of\nits concealment, and laid open in a clear light, so as to render it\napparent to every eye. If it is a sophism, it certainly can be exposed,\nand it should be done.\n\nIn order to do this, it will be necessary to consider the nature and use\nof the maxim, that every effect must have a cause. I am aware, that no\nnecessitarian of the present day, would choose to express this maxim as\nI have expressed it; for in such a form Mr. Hume has shown that it\ncontains no information, and is indeed a most insignificant proposition.\nAnd, in truth, what does it amount to? Cause and effect are correlative\nterms; and when we speak of an effect, we mean something that is\nproduced by a cause; and hence, the famous proposition, that every\neffect has a cause, amounts only to this, that every effect is an\neffect!\n\nAfter Mr. Hume had caused the subject to be viewed in this light, the\nusual mode of expression was dropped; and it has now become the common\npractice to say, that there is no change in nature without a cause. But\nI do not see how this mends the matter _in the least:_ it may disguise,\nbut it does not alter the nature or real import of the maxim in\nquestion. For when it is said that every change has a cause, it is\nevident that a change is conceived of under the idea of an effect. It is\nsupposed to be produced by a cause, and therefore it must be considered\nas an effect; and if the idea remains precisely the same, I do not see\nthat giving it a new name, can possibly make any difference in the\nmeaning of the proposition.\n\nThe maxim, that every effect must have a cause, is a self-evident and\nuniversal proposition. Its truth is involved in the very definition of\nthe terms of which it is composed. In this respect it is like the axioms\nof geometry. When it is said, for example, that \"the whole is equal to\nthe sum of the parts,\" we at once perceive the truth of the axiom;\nbecause the \"whole\" is merely another name for \"the sum of the parts.\"\nIt is intuitively certain that they are equal, because they are but\ndifferent expressions of the same thing. So, likewise, when it is\naffirmed, that every effect or every change in nature has a cause, we\ninstantly perceive the truth of the proposition; inasmuch as an effect\nis that which is produced by a cause. The very idea of an effect implies\nits relation to a cause; and to say, that it has one, is only to say,\nthat an effect is an effect. For if it were not produced by a cause, it\nwould not be an effect.\n\nThe maxim under consideration is as unquestionably true as any axiom in\nEuclid. It does not depend for the evidence of its truth upon\nobservation, or experience, or reasoning; it carries its own evidence\nalong with it. No sooner are the terms in which it is expressed\nunderstood, than it rivets irresistible conviction on the mind. It is a\nfundamental law of belief; and it is impossible for the imagination of\nman to conceive, that an effect, or that which is produced by a cause,\nshould be without a cause. And it were just as idle an employment of\none's time, to undertake to prove such a proposition, as it would be to\nattempt to refute it.\n\nNow, one of the fallacies of the argument of the necessitarian is, that\nit is an attempt to draw a conclusion from the axiomatical truth above\nreferred to, as from the major of a syllogism. Every such attempt must\nnecessarily be vain and fruitless. \"Axioms,\" justly remarks Mr. Locke,\n\"are not the foundations on which any of the sciences are built.\" And\nagain, \"It was not the influence of those maxims which are taken for\nprinciples in mathematics, that hath led the masters of that science\ninto the wonderful discoveries they have made. Let a man of good parts\nknow all the maxims generally made use of in mathematics never so\nperfectly, and contemplate their extent and consequences as much as he\npleases, he will, by their assistance, I suppose, scarce ever come to\nknow, that the square of the hypothenuse in a right-angled triangle, is\nequal to the squares of the two other sides. The knowledge, that the\nwhole is equal to the parts, and, if you take equals from equals, the\nremainder will be equal, helped him not, I presume, to this\ndemonstration. And a man may, I think, pore long enough on those axioms,\nwithout ever seeing one jot the more of mathematical truths.\"\n\nThe same doctrine is still more distinctly stated by Dugald Stewart. \"If\nby the first principles of a science,\" says he, \"be meant those\nfundamental propositions from which its remoter truths are derived, the\naxioms cannot, with any consistency, be called the first principles of\nmathematics. They have not, (it will be admitted,) the most distant\nanalogy to what are called the first principles of natural\nphilosophy:--to those general facts, for example, of the gravity and\nelasticity of the air, from which may be deduced, as consequences, the\nsuspension of the mercury in the Torricellian tube, and its fall when\ncarried up to an eminence. According to this meaning of the word, the\nfirst principles of mathematical science are, not the _axioms_ but the\n_definitions_; which definitions hold, in mathematics, precisely the\nsame place that is held in natural philosophy by such general facts as\nhave now been referred to.\"\n\nBut the doctrine in question rests upon a firmer basis than that of\nhuman authority. Let any man examine the demonstrations in geometry, and\nattentively consider the principles from which the conclusions of that\nscience are deduced, and he will find that they are _definitions_, and\nnot _axioms_. He will find; that the properties of the triangle are\nderived from the definition of a triangle, and those of a circle from\nthe definition of a circle. And then let him try his own skill upon the\naxioms of that science; let him arrange them and combine them in all\npossible ways; let him compare them together as long as he pleases, and\ndetermine for himself, whether they can be made to yield a single\nlogical inference. If the question is thus brought to the test of an\nactual experience, I think it is not difficult to foresee, that the\ndecision must be in favour of the doctrine of Stewart, and that it will\nbe seen, that no such proposition as that whatever _is, is,_ can even\nconstitute the postulate, or first principle, in any sound argument; and\nthat it is only from general facts, such as are ascertained by\nobservation and experience, that we can derive logical consequences of\nany kind whatever, either in relation to matter or to mind.\n\nIf there is any truth in the foregoing remarks, or correctness in the\nposition of Locke and Stewart, it is certainly one of the capital errors\nof Edwards, as well as of other necessitarians, that he has undertaken\nto deduce his doctrine from a metaphysical axiom, or identical\nproposition.\n\nSupposing this to be the case, how has it happened, it may be asked,\nthat the argument of the necessitarian has appeared so conclusive to\nhimself, as well as unanswerable to others? The reason is plain. Having\nset out with a proposition, which is barren of all consequences, as the\nbasis of his argument, it became necessary, in order to arrive at the\ndestined conclusion, to assume, somewhere and somehow, in the course of\nhis reasoning, the very point which he had undertaken to prove.\nAccordingly, this has been done; and the tacit assumption of the point\nin dispute seems not to have been suspected by him.\n\nThe justice of this remark may be shown, by a reference to the argument\nof the necessitarian. When this is reduced to the form of a syllogism,\nit stands thus: Every effect has a cause; a volition is an effect; and,\ntherefore, a volition has a cause. In the middle term, which assumes\nthat a volition is an effect, the point in dispute is taken for granted,\nthe whole question is completely begged.\n\nIf we take the words in any sense, yet as they are correlative terms,\nthe maxim that every effect must have a cause is self-evident; and\nhence, no conclusion can be drawn from it, unless the conclusion\nintended to be drawn is assumed in the middle term of the syllogism. It\neither begs the question, or it decides nothing to the purpose. It is\ntrue, that every change in nature must have a cause; that is to say, it\nis in some sense of the word an effect, and consequently must have a\ncorresponding cause; but in what sense does every act of the mind come\nunder the idea and definition of an effect? This is the question. Is it\nbrought to pass by the prior action of motive? Is it necessitated? Upon\nthis precise question, the maxim that every change must have a cause can\nthrow no light; it only seems to refer to this point, by means of the\nvery convenient ambiguity of the terms in which it is expressed. The\nnecessitarian never fails to avail himself of this ambiguity. He seems\nboth to himself and to the spectator to be carrying on a \"great\ndemonstration;\" and this is one reason, perhaps, why the mind is\ndiverted from the sophistical tricks, the metaphysical jugglery, by\nwhich both are deceived. Let us look a little more narrowly at this\npretended demonstration.\n\nThe maxim in question is applied to volition; every change in nature,\neven the voluntary acts of the mind, must have a cause. Now according to\nEdwards' explanation of the term, this is a proposition which, I will\nventure to say, no man in his right mind ever ventured to deny. It is\ntrue, that President Edwards tells us of those, who \"imagine that a\nvolition has no cause, or _that it produces itself_;\" and he has very\nwell compared this to the absurdity of supposing, \"that I gave myself my\nown being, or that I came into being without a cause,\" p. 277. But who\never held such a doctrine? Did any man, in his right mind, ever contend\nthat \"a volition could produce itself,\" can arise out of nothing, and\nbring itself into existence? If so, they were certainly beyond the reach\nof logic; they stood in need of the physician. I have never been so\nunfortunate as to meet with any advocate of free-agency, either in\nactual life or in history, who supposed that a volition arose out of\nnothing, without _any cause_ of its existence, or that it produced\nitself. They have all maintained, with one consent, that the mind is the\ncause of volition. Is the mind nothing? If a man should say, as so many\nhave said, that the mind produces its own volitions, is that equivalent\nto saying, that nothing produces it; that it comes \"into being\naccidentally, without any cause of its being?\" Such is the broad\ncaricature of their doctrine, which is repeatedly given by President\nEdwards.\n\nIt is freely admitted, and the advocates of free-agency have always\nadmitted, that volition has a cause, as that word is frequently used by\nEdwards. He tells us, that by cause he sometimes means any antecedent,\nwhether it exerts any positive influence or no. Now, in this sense, it\nis conceded by the advocates of free-agency, that motive itself is the\ncause of volition. This is the question: Is motive the efficient, or\nproducing cause of volition? This is the question, I say; but Edwards\nfrequently loses sight of it in a mist of ambiguities; and he lays\naround him in the dark, with such prodigious strength, that if his\nadversaries were not altogether imaginary beings, and therefore\nimpassible to his ponderous blows, I have no doubt he would have slain\nmore of them than ever Samson did of the Philistines.\n\nThe manner in which the necessitarian speaks of cause in his maxims, and\nreasonings, and pretended demonstrations, is of very great service to\nhim. It includes, as we are told, every condition or cause of volition;\n(what a heterogeneous mass!) every thing without which volition could\nnot come to pass. Yea, it is used in this sense, when it is said that\nmotive is the cause of volition. What shall we do, then, with this\nbroad, this most ambiguous proposition? Shall we deny it? If so, then we\ndeny that volition has any cause of its existence, and fall into the\ngreat absurdity of supposing \"volition to produce itself.\" Shall we\nassent to it, then? If so, we really admit that motive is the efficient\ncause of volition; and thus, by denying, we are made to reject our own\ndoctrine, while, by affirming, we are made to receive that of our\nopponents. This way of proposing the doctrine of necessity very strongly\nreminds one of a certain trick in legislation, by which such things are\nforced into a bill, that in voting upon it, you must either reject what\nyou most earnestly desire, or else sanction and support what you most\nearnestly detest. We should, therefore, neither affirm nor deny the\nwhole proposition as it is set forth by the necessitarian; we should\ntouch it with the dissecting knife, and cure it of its manifold\ninfirmities.\n\nThe ambiguity of the term cause is, indeed, one of the most powerful\nweapons, both of attack and defence, in the whole armory of the\nnecessitarian. Do you affirm the mind to be the cause of volition? Then,\nforthwith, as if the word could have only one meaning, it is alleged,\nthat if the mind is the cause of volition, it can cause it only by a\npreceding volition; and so on _ad infinitum_. Hence, your doctrine must\nneeds be absurd; because the word is understood, yea, and will be\nunderstood, in its most restrained and narrow sense. But do you deny\nmotive to be the cause of volition? Then, how absurd are you again; you\nare no longer understood to use the word in the same sense; you now\nmean, not only that motive is not the producing cause of volition, but\nthat there is absolutely nothing upon which it depends for its\nexistence, and that \"it produces itself.\" Does Edwards affirm that\nmotive is the cause of volition; that motive causes volition to arise\nand come forth into existence; that it is not merely \"the negative\noccasion\" thereof, but the cause in the most proper sense of the word;\nthat it is \"the effectual power which produces volition?\" What then?\nDare you assert, in the face of such teaching, that motive is not the\ncause of volition? If so, then you are a most obstinate and perverse\ncaviller; and you are silenced by the information that he _sometimes_\nuses the word cause to signify any antecedent, whether it has any\npositive influence or no. Yea, he gives this information, he declares,\nto \"cut off occasion from any that might seek occasion to cavil and\nobject against his doctrine,\" p. 51. These, and many other things of the\nsame kind, are to be found in the writings of Day, and Edwards, and\nCollins, and Hobbes; and whosoever may be pleased to follow them,\nthrough all the doublings and windings of their logic, may do so at his\nleisure. It is sufficient for my present purpose to remark, that Edwards\nhas included a number of different ideas in his definition of cause; and\nthat he turns from the one to the other of these ideas, just as it suits\nthe exigencies of his argument. It is in this way, as we have seen, that\nthe famous maxim, that every change in nature must have a cause, has\nbeen made to serve his purpose.\n\nHe did not look at a volition and an effect, so as to mark their\ndifferences narrowly, and to proceed in his reasonings according to\nthem; he set out with the great and universal truth, that every change\nin the universe must have a cause; from which lofty position the\ndifferences of things in this nether world were invisible. Having\nsecured this position to his entire satisfaction, being firmly persuaded\nin his own mind, that \"nonentity could not bring forth,\" he supposed he\nhad gained a strong foothold; and from thence he proceeded to reason\ndownward to what actually takes place in this lower world!\n\nWe are but \"the humble servants and interpreters of nature,\" and we \"can\nunderstand her operations only in so far as we have observed them.\" The\nnecessitarian takes higher ground than this. He disdains the humble and\npatient task of observation. He plants his foot upon an eternal and\nimmutable axiom; and, turning away from the study of what is, he\nmagisterially pronounces what _must be_.\n\nIt is easy to see how he constructs his system. Every change in nature\nmust have a cause, says he; this is very true; there is no truth in the\nworld more certain, according to the sense in which he frequently\nunderstands it. If he means to assert, that nothing, whether it be an\nentity, or an attribute, or a mode, can bring itself into existence, no\none disputes his doctrine. It is most true, that there can be no choice\nwithout a mind that chooses, or an object in view of which it chooses; a\nmind, an object, and a desire, (if you please,) are the indispensable\nprerequisites, the invariable antecedents, to volition; but there is an\nimmense chasm between this position and the doctrine, that the mind\ncannot put forth a volition, unless it is made to do so by the action of\nsomething else upon it. This immense chasm, the necessitarian can cross\nonly by stepping over from one branch of his ambiguous proposition to\nanother; he either does this, or he does not reach the point in\ncontroversy at all.\n\n\n\nSECTION VII.\n\nOF THE APPLICATION OF THE MAXIM THAT EVERY EFFECT MUST HAVE A CAUSE.\n\nIN the last section I considered the application of the maxim, \"that\nevery effect must have a cause,\" to the question of necessity. This\nmaxim figures so largely in every scheme of necessity, and it is relied\nupon with so much confidence, that I shall present some further views\nrespecting its true nature and application. The necessitarian may see\nthe truth of this maxim clearly, but he applies it vaguely.\n\nHe is always saying, \"that if we give up this great principle of common\nsense, then there is no reasoning from effect to cause; and we cannot\nprove the existence of a God.\" Now I propose to show that we need not\ngive up \"this great principle of common sense;\" that we may continue to\nreason from effect to cause, and so reach the conclusion that there is a\nGod, by one of the most incontrovertible of all our mental processes;\nand yet we may, with perfect consistency, refuse to apply the maxim in\nquestion to human actions or volitions. In other words, that we may\nfreely admit the principle in question, and yet reject the application\nwhich the necessitarian is accustomed to make of it.\n\nIn order to do this in a perspicuous and satisfactory manner, let us\nconsider the occasion on which we first became acquainted with the truth\nof the principle, that every effect must have a cause. Let us consider\nthe circumstances under which it is first suggested to the mind. Whence,\nthen, do we derive the ideas of cause and effect, and of the necessary\nconnection between them?\n\nLocke, it is well known, supposed that we might derive the idea of\ncausation by reflecting on the changes which take place in the external\nworld. The fallacy of this supposition has been fully shown by Hume, and\nBrown, and Consin. In the refutation of Locke's notion, these celebrated\nphilosophers were undoubtedly right; but the two first were wrong in the\nconclusion that we have no idea of power at all. Because the ideas of\npower and causation are not suggested by the changes of the material\nworld, it does not follow that we have no such ideas in reality; that\nthe only notion we have of causation is that of an invariable\nantecedence.\n\nThe only way in which the mind ever comes to be furnished with the ideas\nof cause and effect at all is this: we are conscious that we will a\ncertain motion in the body, and we discover that the motion follows the\nvolition. It is this act of the mind, this exertion of the will, that\ngives us the idea of a cause; and the change which it produces in the\nbody, is that from which we derive the idea of an effect. If we had\nnever experienced a volition, we should never have formed the idea of\ncausation. The idea of positive efficiency, or active power, would never\nhave entered into our minds.\n\nThe two terms of the sequence, with which we are thus furnished by an\nactual experience, is an act of the mind, or a volition, on the one\nhand, which we call an efficient cause; and a modification or change in\ninert, passive matter, on the other, which we call an effect. It is easy\nto see how we rise from this single experience to the universal maxim in\nquestion. We are so made and constituted, by the Author of our nature,\nthat we cannot help believing in the uniformity of nature's laws, or\nsequences. Hence, whenever we see either term of the above sequence, we\nare necessarily compelled, by a fundamental law of belief, to infer the\nexistence of the other.\n\nThis fundamental law of belief, by which we repose the most implicit\nconfidence in the uniformity of nature's sequences, has been recognized\nby many distinguished writers in modern times. It is well stated and\nillustrated by Dr. Chalmers. \"The doctrine of innate ideas in the mind,\"\nsays he, \"is wholly different from the doctrine of innate tendencies in\nthe mind--which tendencies may lie undeveloped till the excitement of\nsome occasion have manifested or brought them forth. In a newly-formed\nmind, there is no idea of nature, or of a single object in nature; yet,\nno sooner is an object presented, or is an event observed to happen,\nthan there is elicited the tendency of the mind to presume on the\nconstancy of nature. At least as far back as our observation extends,\nthe law of the mind is in full operation. Let an infant, for the first\ntime in his life, strike on the table with a spoon; and, pleased with\nthe noise, it will repeat that stroke with every appearance of a\nconfident expectation that the noise will be repeated also. It counts on\nthe invariableness wherewith the same consequent will follow the same\nantecedent. In the language of Dr. Thomas Brown, these two terms make up\na sequence, and there seems to exist in the spirit of man not an\nunderived, but an aboriginal faith in the uniformity of nature's\nsequences.\"--Nat. Theo. p. 121.\n\nNow, the two terms which we find connected in the case before us, is an\nact of the mind, and a change or modification of the body. The volition\nis the antecedent, and the motion of body is the consequent. And these\ntwo, by virtue of the law of belief above stated, we shall always expect\nto find conjoined. Wherever we discover a change or modification, for\nexample, in the corporeal system of any other person, similar to that\nwhich results from our own volitions, we shall necessarily infer the\nexistence of a prior act by which it was produced.\n\nHence, when we witness a change _in the world of matter_, we are\nauthorized to apply the maxim we have derived in the manner above\nexplained. We have really no idea of an efficient cause, except that\nwhich we have derived from the phenomena of action. Hence, if we would\nnot suffer ourselves to be imposed upon by words without meaning, when\nwe see any change or effect in the material world, we should conclude\nthat it proceeds from an action of spirit. When we see the same\nconsequent, we should infer the existence of the same antecedent; and\nnot suffer our minds to be confused and misled by the manifold\nambiguities of language, as well as by the innumerable illusions of the\nfancy. Wherever we see a change in matter, we should infer an act by\nwhich it is produced; and thus, through all the changes and\nmodifications of the material universe, we shall behold the sublime\nmanifestations of an ever-present and all-pervading agency of spirit.\n\nBy a similar process, we are made acquainted with the existence of an\nintelligent and designing First Cause. We learn the connection between\nthe adaptation of means to an end, and the operations of a designing\nmind, by reflecting on what passes within ourselves when we plan and\nexecute a work of skill and contrivance. And, as we are so made as to\nrely with implicit confidence on the uniformity of nature's sequences;\nso, without further experience or induction, it is impossible for us to\nconceive of any contrivance whatever, without conceiving of it as\nproceeding from the hand of a contriver. Thus, we necessarily rise from\nthe innumerable and wonderful contrivances in nature, to a belief in the\nexistence of an intelligent and designing mind. In like manner may we\nestablish the other attributes of God.\n\nBut to return to our maxim. We can only infer, from a change or\nmodification in matter, the existence of an act by which it is produced.\nThe former is the only idea we have of an effect; the latter is the only\nidea we have of an efficient cause. Hence, in reasoning from effect to\ncause, we can only reason from a change or modification in matter, or in\nthat what is passive, to the act of some active power. This lays a\nsufficient foundation on which to rest the proof of the existence of\nGod, as well as the existence of other minds.\n\nBut the case is very different when we turn from the contemplation of a\n_passive result_ to consider an _efficient cause_--when we turn from the\n_motion of body_ to consider the _activity of mind_. In such a case, the\nconsequent ceases to be the same; and hence we have no right to infer\nthat the antecedent is the same. We are conscious of an act; we perceive\nthat it is followed by a change in the outward world; and henceforth,\nwhenever we observe another change in the outward world, we are\ncompelled to ascribe it, also, to a similar cause. This conviction\nresults from the constitution of our minds--from a fundamental law of\nbelief. But when we contemplate, not a change in the outward world, in\nthat which is passive, but an act of the mind itself, the case is\nentirely different. We have some experience that certain changes in\nmatter are the results of certain acts; and hence, whenever we observe\nsimilar phenomena, we are under a necessity of our nature to refer them\nto similar causes. We merely rely upon our veritable belief in the\nuniformity of nature's sequences, without a reliance upon which there\ncan be no such thing as reasoning, when we ascend from the changes in\nthe outward world to a belief in the agency of an efficient Cause. But\nwe have no experience that an act of the mind is produced by a preceding\nact of the mind, or by the prior action of any thing else. President\nEdwards himself admits that our experience is silent on this subject.\nAnd hence, when we witness an act of the mind, or when we are conscious\nof a volition, our instinctive belief in the uniformity of nature's\nsequences does not require us to believe that it has an efficient cause;\nor, in other words, that it is produced by the prior action of something\nelse, as the motion of body is produced by a prior act of mind. _A\nchange in body_ necessarily implies the prior action of something else\nby which it is produced; _an act of mind_ only implies the existence of\nan agent that is capable of acting. Wherever an act exists, we must\nbelieve that there is a soul, or mind, or agent, that is capable of\nacting. We need not suppose that, like a change in body, it is brought\nto pass by a prior act. In other words, a change in that which is by\nnature passive, necessarily implies an act by which it is produced. But\nan act of the mind itself, which is not passive, does not likewise imply\na preceding act by which it is produced. _It only implies the existence\nof an agent that is capable of acting, and the circumstances necessary\nto action as conditions, not as causes._\n\nHerein, then, lies the error of the necessitarian. He discovers from\nexperience the connection between an act and a corresponding motion; and\nhis instinctive belief in the uniformity of nature's sequences\nauthorizes him to extend this connection to all sequences where the two\nterms are the same. That is to say, wherever he discovers a change in\nbody, he is authorized to infer the existence of a prior act by which it\nwas produced. But he does not confine himself to this sequence alone. He\ndoes not rest satisfied with the universal principle, that every change\nin body, or in that which is passive, must proceed from the prior action\nof something else. He makes a most unwarrantable extension of this\nprinciple. He supposes not only that every change in body, but also that\nevery act of mind, must proceed from the prior action of something else.\nThus he confounds passion and action. He takes it for granted that a\nvolition is an _effect_--an effect in such a sense that it cannot\nproceed from the mind, unless it be produced by the prior act thereof.\nHe asserts that \"the mind cannot be the cause of such an effect,\" of a\nvolition, \"except by the preceding action of the mind.\" Thus, in rising\nfrom a single experience to a universal maxim, by virtue of our belief\nin the uniformity of nature's laws, he does not confine himself to the\nobserved sequences; he does not keep his attention steadily fixed on a\nchange in body as the consequent, and on an act as the invariable\nantecedent. On the contrary, from the exceedingly abstruse and subtle\nnature of the subject, as well as from the ambiguity of language, he\ntreats a volition as a consequent, which implies the same kind of\nantecedent as does a change in body. Thus, by this unwarrantable\nextension or application of his principle, he confounds the _motion of\nbody_ with the _action of spirit_; than which there could hardly be a\nmore unphilosophical confusion of ideas.\n\nFrom the foregoing remarks, it will be perceived, as I have already\nsaid, that the question is not, _whether every effect must have a\ncause_. This is conceded. We do not give up \"this great principle of\ncommon sense.\" We insist upon it as firmly as do our adversaries; and\nhence, we have as strong a foundation whereon to rest our belief in the\nbeing of a God. But the question is, _whether every cause is an effect?_\nOr, in other words, whether an act of mind can exist without being\nproduced by the prior action of something else; just as the motion of\nbody is produced by the prior action of mind? We say that it can exist\nwithout any such producing cause.\n\nIf it were otherwise, if every cause were an effect in the sense in\nwhich a volition is assumed to be an effect by the necessitarian, what\nwould be the consequence? It is evident, that each and every cause in\nthe universe must itself have a cause--must itself result from the\npreceding action of something else; and thus we should be involved in\nthe great absurdity of an infinite series of causes, as well as in the\niron scheme of an all-pervading necessity. But, happily, there is\nnothing in our experience, nor in any law of our nature, nor in both\ntogether, which requires us to believe that a volition is an effect in\nany such sense of the word. Call it an effect, if you please; but then\nit must be conceded that it is not, like the motion of body, such a\nconsequent as necessarily requires the prior action of something else\nfor its production.\n\nEvery _effect_ must have a cause, it is true; but it is purely a\ngratuitous assumption--a mere _petitio principii_, to take it for\ngranted that a volition is an effect in the sense in which the word\nshould always be understood in this celebrated maxim. This maxim is\nundoubtedly true, as we have seen, when applied to the changes of that\nwhich cannot act: it is in reference to such effects, or consequents,\nthat the conviction of its truth is first suggested; and we cannot doubt\nof the propriety of its application to all such effects, unless we can\ndoubt of the uniformity of nature's sequences. But when we go over from\nthe region of inert, passive matter, into that which is full of\nspiritual vigour and unceasing activity, and apply this maxim here in\nall its rigour, we do make a most unwarrantable extension of it. We\npervert it from its true meaning and import; we identify volition with\nlocal motion; we involve ourselves in the greatest of all absurdities,\nas well as in the most ruinous of all doctrines.\n\nAs we have already said, then, we do not give up the great principle of\ncommon sense, that every effect must have a cause. We recognize this\nprinciple when we reason from effect to cause--when we ascend from the\ncreation up to the Creator. We deny that volition is an effect; and what\nthen? If volition be not an effect, are there no effects in the\nuniverse? Are we sunk in utter darkness? Have we no platform left\nwhereon to stand, and to behold the glory of God, our Creator and\nPreserver? Surely we have. Every change throughout inanimate nature\nbespeaks the agency of Him, who \"sits concealed behind his own\ncreation,\" but is everywhere manifested by his omnipresent energy. The\nhuman body is an effect, teeming with evidences of the most wonderful\nskill of its Great Cause and Contriver. The soul itself is an\neffect,--the soul, with all its complicated and wonder-working powers,\nis an effect; and clearly proclaims the wisdom, and the goodness, and\nthe holiness of its Maker. The heavens above us, with all its shining\nhosts and admirable mechanism, proclaims the glory of God; and the whole\nuniverse of created intelligences shout for joy, as they respond in\ntheir eternal anthems to the \"music of the spheres.\" And is not this\nenough? Is the whole psaltery of heaven and earth marred, and all its\nsweet harmony turned into harsh discord, if we only dare to assert that\nan act is not an effect? No, no: this too proclaims the glory of God;\nfor, however great may be the mystery, it only shows that the Almighty\nhas called into existence innumerable creatures, bearing the impress of\nhis own glorious image, and that, in consequence thereof, they are\ncapable of acting without being compelled to act.\n\nIt is the position of Edwards, and not ours, that would disprove the\nexistence of a God. We believe in action which is uncaused by any prior\naction; and hence, we can reason from effects up to Cause, and there\nfind a resting-place. We do not look beyond that which is uncaused. We\nbelieve there is action somewhere, uncaused by preceding action; and if\nwe did not believe this, we should be constrained to adopt the doctrine\nof Edwards, that action itself must be caused \"by the action of\nsomething else,\" p. 203; which necessarily lands us in an infinite\nseries of causes; the very ground occupied by Atheists in all ages of\nthe world. It is well, therefore, to hold on to \"this great principle of\ncommon sense, that every effect must have a cause,\" in order that we may\nrise from the world and its innumerable wonders to the contemplation of\nthe infinite wisdom and goodness of God: it is also well that we should\nhold it with a distinction, and not apply it to action, in order that we\nmay not be forced beyond the Great First Cause--the central light of the\nUniverse, into the \"outer darkness\" of the old atheistic scheme of an\ninfinite series of causes. If we give up this principle, we cannot prove\nthe existence of a God, it is most true; but yet, if we apply this\nprinciple as Edwards applies it, we are irresistibly launched upon an\ninfinite series of causes, and compelled to shoot entirely beyond the\nbelief of a God. We quarrel not, therefore, with his great principle;\nbut we utterly reject his application of it, as leading directly to\nAtheism.\n\n\n\nSECTION VIII.\n\nOF THE RELATION BETWEEN THE FEELINGS AND THE WILL.\n\nIT is well known that Edwards confounds the sensitive part of our nature\nwith the will, the susceptibility by which the mind feels with the power\nby which it acts. He expressly declares, that \"the affections and the\nwill are not two faculties of the soul;\" and it is upon this confusion\nof things that much of his argument depends for its coherency.\n\nBut although he thus expressly confounds them; yet he frequently speaks\nof them, in the course of his argument, as if they were two different\nfaculties of the soul. Thus, he frequently asserts that the will is\ndetermined by \"the strongest appetite,\" by \"the strongest disposition,\"\nby \"the strongest inclination.\" Now, in these expressions, he evidently\nmeans to distinguish appetite, inclination, and disposition, from the\nwill; and if he does not, then he asserts, that the will is determined\nby itself, a doctrine which he utterly repudiates.\n\nThe soundness of much of his argument depends, as I have said, upon the\nconfusion or the identification of these two properties of the mind; the\nsoundness of much of it also depends upon the fact that they are not\nidentical, but distinct. From a great number of similar passages, we may\nselect the following, as an illustration of the justness of this remark:\n\"Moral necessity,\" says he, \"may be as _absolute_, as natural necessity.\nThat is, the effect may be as powerfully connected with its moral cause,\nas a natural necessary effect is with its natural cause. Whether the\nwill in every case is necessarily determined by the strongest motive, or\nwhether the will ever makes any resistance to such a motive, or can ever\noppose the strongest present inclination, or not; if that matter should\nbe controverted, yet I suppose none will deny, but that, in some cases,\na previous bias, or inclination, or the motive presented, may be so\nPOWERFUL, THAT THE ACT OF THE WILL MAY BE CERTAINLY AND INDISSOLUBLY\nCONNECTED THEREWITH. When motives or previous bias are very strong, all\nwill allow that there is some _difficulty_ in going against them. And if\nthey were yet stronger, the difficulty would be still greater. And,\ntherefore, if more be still added to their strength, to a certain\ndegree, it would make the difficulty so great, that it would be wholly\n_impossible_ to surmount it; for, this plain reason, because whatever\npower men may be supposed to have to surmount difficulties, yet that\npower is not infinite; and so goes not beyond certain limits. If a man\ncan surmount ten degrees of difficulty of this kind with twenty degrees\nof strength, because the degrees of strength are beyond the degrees of\ndifficulty; yet if the difficulty be increased to thirty, or an hundred,\nor a thousand degrees, and his strength not also increased, his strength\nwill be wholly insufficient to surmount the difficulty. As, therefore,\nit must be allowed, that there may be such a thing as a _sure_ and\n_perfect_ connexion between moral causes and effects; so this only is\nwhat I call by the name of _moral necessity_.\"\n\nNow he here speaks of inclination and previous bias, as elsewhere of\nappetite and disposition, as distinct from volition. In this he is\nright; even the necessitarian will not, at the present day, deny that\nour desires, affections, &c., are different from volition. \"Between\nmotive and volition,\" says President Day, \"there must intervene an\napprehension of the object, and _consequent feeling excited in the\nmind_.\" Thus, according to President Day, feeling is not volition; it\nintervenes between the external object and volition. But although\nEdwards is right in this; there is one thing in which he is wrong. He is\nwrong in supposing that our feelings possess a real strength, by which\nthey act upon and control the will.\n\nIt is obvious that the coherency and force of the above passage depends\non the idea, that there is a real power in the strongest inclination or\ndesire of the mind, which renders it difficult to be surmounted or\novercome. For if we suppose, that our inclinations or desires are merely\nthe occasions on which we act, and that they themselves exert no\ninfluence or efficiency in the production of our volitions, it would be\nabsurd to speak of the difficulty of overcoming them, as well as to\nspeak of this difficulty as increasing with the increasing strength of\nthe inclination, or desire. Take away this idea, show that there is no\nreal strength in motives, or desires and inclinations, and the above\nextract will lose all its force; it will fall to pieces of itself.\n\nIndeed, the idea or supposition in question, is one of the strongholds\nof the necessitarian. External objects are regarded as the efficient\ncauses of desire; desire as the efficient cause of volition; and in this\nway, the whole question seems to be settled. The same result would\nfollow, if we should suppose that desire is awakened not exclusively by\nexternal objects, but partly by that which is external, and partly by\nthat which is internal. On this supposition, as well as on the former,\nthe will would seem to be under the dominion of the strongest desire or\ninclination of the soul.\n\nThe assumption, that there is a real efficiency exerted by the desires\nand inclinations of the soul, has been, so far as I know, universally\nconceded to the necessitarian. He seems to have been left in the\nundisputed possession of this stronghold; and yet, upon mature\nreflection, I think we may find some reason to call it in question. If I\nam not greatly mistaken, we may see that the necessitarian has some\nreason to abate the loftiness of his tone, when he asserts, that \"we\n_know_ that the feelings do exert an influence in the production of\nvolition.\" This may appear very evident to his mind; nay, at first view,\nit may appear very evident to all minds; and yet, after all, it may be\nonly an \"idol of the tribe.\"\n\nIt is a commonly received opinion, among philosophers, that the\npassions, desires, &c., do really exert an influence to produce\nvolition. This was evidently the idea of Burlamaqui. He draws a\ndistinction between voluntary actions and free actions; and as an\ninstance of a voluntary action which is not free, he cites the case of a\nman who, as he supposes, is constrained to act from fear. He supposes\nthat such an action, though voluntary, is not free, because it is\nbrought about by the irresistible influence of the passion of fear.\n\nIt is believed, also, by the disciples of Butler, that there is a real\nstrength possessed by what are called the \"active powers\" of the mind.\n\"This distinction,\" says Dr. Chalmers, \"made by the sagacious Butler\nbetween the power of a principle and its authority, enables us in the\nmidst of all the actual anomalies and disorders of our state, to form a\nprecise estimate of the place which conscience naturally and rightly\nholds in man's constitution. The desire of acting virtuously, which is a\ndesire consequent on our sense of right and wrong, may not be of _equal\nstrength_ with the desire of some criminal indulgence, and so,\npractically, the evil may predominate over the good. And thus it is that\nthe system of the inner man, from _the weakness_ of that which claims to\nbe the ascendant principle of our nature, may be thrown into a state of\nturbulence and disorder.\"--Nat. The. p. 313.\n\nSuch was the idea of Butler himself. He frequently speaks of the\nsupremacy of conscience, in terms such as the following: \"That principle\nby which we survey, and either approve or disapprove, our heart, temper,\nand actions, is not only to be considered as what in its turn is to have\nsome influence, which may be said of every passion, of the basest\nappetite; but likewise as being superior; as from its very nature\nmanifestly claiming superiority over all others; insomuch that you\ncannot form a notion of this faculty conscience, without taking in\njudgement, direction, and superintendency. This is a constituent part of\nthe idea, that is of the faculty itself; and to preside and govern, from\nthe very economy and constitution of man, belongs to it. Had it _might_,\nas it has right; had it _power_, as it has manifest authority; it would\nabsolutely govern the world.\"\n\nThis language, it should be observed, is not used in a metaphorical\nsense; it occurs in the statement of a philosophical theory of human\nnature. Similar language is frequently to be found in the writings of\nthe most enlightened advocates of free-agency. Thus, says Jouffroy, even\nwhile he is contending against the doctrine of necessity: \"There are two\nkinds of _moving powers_ acting upon us; first, the impulses of\ninstinct, or passion; and, secondly, the conceptions of reason. . . . .\nThat these two kinds of moving powers can and do, act efficiently upon\nour volitions, there can be no doubt,\" p. 102. If it were necessary, it\nmight be shown, by hundreds of extracts from their writings, that the\ngreat advocates of free-agency have held, that the emotions, desires,\nand passions, do really act on the will, and tend to produce volitions.\n\nBut why dwell upon particular instances? If any advocate of free-agency\nhad really believed, that the passions, desires, affections, &c., exert\nno influence over the will, is it not certain that he would have availed\nhimself of this principle? If the principle that no desire, or\naffection, or passion, is possessed of any power or causal influence,\nhad been adopted by the advocates of free-agency, its bearing in favour\nof their cause would have been too obvious and too important to have\nbeen overlooked. The necessitarian might have supposed, if he had\npleased, that our desires and affections are produced by the action of\nexternal objects; and yet, on the supposition that these exerted no\npositive or causal influence, the doctrine of liberty might have been\nmost successfully maintained. For, after all, the desires and affections\nthus produced in the mind, would not, on the supposition in question, be\nthe causes of our volitions. They would merely be the occasions on which\nwe act. There would be no necessary connexion between what are called\nmotives and their corresponding actions. Our desires or emotions might\nbe under the influence and dominion of external causes, or of causes\nthat are partly external and partly internal; but yet our volitions\nwould be perfectly free from all preceding influences whatever. Our\nvolitions might depend on certain conditions, it is true, such as the\npossession of certain desires or affections; but they would not result\nfrom the influence or action of them. They would be absolutely free and\nuncontrolled. The reason why this principle has not been employed by the\nadvocates of free-agency is, I humbly conceive, because it has not been\nentertained by them.\n\nIn short, if the advocates of free-agency had shaken off the common\nillusion that there is a real efficiency, or causal influence, exerted\nby the desires of the soul, they would have made it known in the most\nexplicit and unequivocal terms. Instead of resorting to the expedients\nthey have adopted, in order to surmount the difficulties by which they\nhave been surrounded, they would, every where and on all occasions, have\nreminded their adversaries that those difficulties arise merely from\nascribing a literal signification to language, which is only true in a\nmetaphorical sense; and we should have had pages, not to say volumes,\nconcerning this use of language, where we have not had a syllable.\n\nIf the illusion in question has been as general as I have supposed, it\nis not difficult to account for its prevalence. The fact that a desire,\nor affection is the indispensable condition, the invariable antecedent,\nof an act of the will, is of itself sufficient to account for the\nprevalence of such a notion. Nothing is more common than for men to\nmistake an invariable antecedent for an efficient cause. This source of\nerror, it is well known, has given rise to some of the most obstinate\ndelusions that have ever infested and enslaved the human mind.\n\nAnd besides, when such an error or illusion prevails, its hold upon the\nmind is confirmed and rendered almost invincible by the circumstance,\nthat it is interwoven into the structure of all our language. In this\ncase in particular, we never cease to speak of \"the active principles,\"\nof \"the ruling passion,\" of \"ungovernable desire,\" of \"the dominion of\nlust,\" of being \"enslaved to a vicious propensity;\"--in a thousand ways,\nthe idea that there is a real efficiency in the desires and affections\nof the soul, is wrought into the structure of our language; and hence,\nthere is no wonder that it has gained such an ascendency over our\nthoughts. It has met us at every turn; it has presented itself to us in\na thousand shapes; it has become so familiar, that we have not even\nstopped to inquire into its true nature. Its dominion has become\ncomplete and secure, just because its truth has never been doubted.\n\nThe illusion in question, if it be one, has derived an accession of\nstrength from another source. It is a fact, that whenever we feel\nintensely, we do, as a general thing, act with a proportioned degree of\nenergy; and _vice versa_. Hence, we naturally derive the impression,\nthat the determinations of the will are produced by the strength of our\nfeelings. If the passion or desire is languid, (since we must use a\nmetaphor,) the action is in general feeble; and if it is intense, the\nact is _usually_ powerful and energetic. Hence, we are prone to\nconclude, that the mind is moved to act by the influence of passion or\ndesire; and that the energy of the action corresponds with the strength\nof the motive, or moving principle.\n\nThough the principle in question has been so commonly received, I think\nwe should be led to question it in consequence of the conclusions which\nhave been deduced from it. If our desires, affections, &c., operate to\ninfluence the will, how can it be free in putting forth volitions? How\ndoes Mr. Locke meet this difficulty? Does he tell us, that it arises\nsolely from our mistaking a metaphorical for a literal mode of\nexpression? Far from it.\n\nHe does not place liberty on the broad ground, that the desires by which\nvolitions are supposed to be determined, are in reality nothing more\nthan the conditions or occasions on which the mind acts; and that they\nthemselves can exert no positive influence or efficiency. The liberty of\nthe soul consists, according to him, not in the circumstance that its\ndesires do not _operate_, but in its power to arrest the operation of\nits desires. He admits that they operate, that they tend to produce\nvolition; but the mind is nevertheless free, because it can suspend the\noperation of desire, and prevent the tendency thereof from passing into\neffect. \"There being,\" says he, \"in us a great many uneasinesses always\nsoliciting and ready to determine the will, it is natural, as I have\nsaid, that the greatest or most pressing should determine the will to\nthe next action; and so it does for the most part, but not always. For\nthe mind having in most cases, as is evident in experience, a power to\nsuspend the execution and satisfaction of its desires, and so all, one\nafter another, examine them on all sides, and weigh them with others. In\nthis lies the liberty man has.\"\n\nThus we are supposed to be free, because we have a power to resist, in\nsome cases at least, the influence of desire. But this is not always the\ncase. Our desires may be so strong as entirely to overcome us--and what\nthen? Why we cease to be free agents; and it is only when the storm of\npassion subsides, that we are restored to the rank of accountable\nbeings. \"Sometimes a boisterous passion hurries away our thoughts,\" says\nLocke, \"as a hurricane does our bodies, without leaving us the liberty\nof thinking on other things, which we would rather choose. But as soon\nas the mind regains the power to stop or continue, begin or forbear, any\nof these motives of the body without, or thoughts within, according as\nit thinks fit to prefer either to the other, we then consider the man as\na free-agent again.\" This language is employed by Mr. Locke, while\nattempting to define the idea of liberty or free-agency; and he\nevidently supposed, as appears from the above passage, as well as from\nsome others, that we frequently cease to be free-agents, in consequence\nof the irresistible power of our desires or passions.\n\nDr. Reid set out from the same position, and he arrived at the same\nconclusion. He frequently speaks of the appetites and passions as so\nmany forces, whose action is \"directly upon the will.\" \"They draw a man\ntowards a certain object, without any further view, by a sort of\nviolence.\"--Essays, p. 18. \"When a man is acted upon by motives of this\nkind, he finds it easy to yield to the strongest. They are like two\nforces pushing him in contrary directions. To yield to the strongest, he\nneed only be passive,\" p. 237. \"In actions that proceed from appetite\nand passion, we are passive in part and only in part active. They are\ntherefore in part imputed to the passion; and if it is supposed to be\nirresistible, we do not impute them to the man at all. Even an American\nsavage judges in this way; when in a fit of drunkenness he kills his\nfriend; as soon as he comes to himself, he is very sorry for what he has\ndone, but pleads that drink, and not he, was the cause,\" p. 14, 15. Such\nis the dreadful consequence, which Dr. Reid boldly deduces from the\nprinciple, that the appetites and passions do really act upon the will.\nThough he was an advocate of free-agency; yet, holding this principle,\nhe could speak of _actions that are partly passive;_ and that in so far\nas they are passive, he maintained they should not be imputed to the man\nwhose actions they are, but to the passions by which they are produced,\nThis may appear to be strange doctrine for an advocate of free-agency\nand accountability; but it seems to be the natural and inevitable\nconsequence of the commonly received notion with respect to the relation\nwhich subsists between the passions and the will.\n\nThe principle that our appetites, desires, &c., do exert a real\ninfluence in the production of volition, was common to Edwards, Locke,\nand Reid: indeed, so far as I know, it has been universally received. In\nthe opinion of Edwards, this influence becomes \"so powerful\" at times as\nto establish a moral necessity beyond all question; and in that of Locke\nand Reid, it is sometimes so great as to destroy free-agency and\naccountability. Is not this inference well drawn? It seems to me that it\nis; and this constitutes one reason, why I deny the principle from which\nit is deduced.\n\nIs it true, then, that any power or efficacy belongs to the sensitive or\nemotive part of our nature? Reflection must show us, I think, that it is\nabsurd to suppose that any desire, affection, or disposition of the\nmind, can really and truly exert any positive or productive influence.\nWhen we speak of the appetites, desires, affections, &c., as the \"active\nprinciples\" of our nature, we must needs understand this as a purely\nmetaphorical mode of expression.\n\nEdwards himself has shown the impropriety of regarding similar modes of\nspeech as a literal expression of the truth. \"To talk of liberty,\" says\nhe, \"or the contrary, as belonging to the _very will itself_, is not to\nspeak good sense; if we judge of sense, and nonsense, by the original\nand proper signification of words. For the will _itself_ is not an agent\nthat _has a will:_ the power of choosing, itself, has not a power of\nchoosing. That which has the power of volition is the man, or the soul,\nand not the power of volition itself. To be free is the property of an\nagent, who is possessed of powers and faculties, as much as to be\ncunning, valiant, bountiful, or zealous. But _these qualities are the\nproperties of persons_, and not the _properties of properties_.\" This\nremark, no doubt, is perfectly just, as well as highly important. And it\nmay be applied with equal force and propriety, to the practice of\nspeaking of the strength of motives, or inclinations, or desires; for\npower is a \"property of the person, or the soul; and not the property of\na property.\"\n\nIt appeared exceedingly absurd to the author of the \"Inquiry,\" to speak\nof \"the free acts of the will,\" as being _determined by the will\nitself;_ because the _will_ is not an agent, and \"actions are to be\nascribed to agents, and not properly to the powers and properties of\nagents.\" But he seemed to perceive no absurdity, in speaking of \"the\nfree acts of the will,\" as being caused by the strongest motives, by the\ndispositions and appetites of the soul. Now, are the strongest motives,\nas they are called, are the strongest dispositions and desires of the\nsoul, agents, or are they merely the properties of agents? Let the\nnecessitarian answer this question, and then determine whether his logic\nis consistent with itself.\n\nMr. Locke, also, has well said, that it is absurd to inquire whether\n\"the will be free or no; inasmuch as _liberty_, which is but a _power_,\nbelongs only to agents, and cannot be an attribute or modification of\nwill, which is also but a power.\" Though Mr. Locke applied this remark\nto the usual form of speech, by which freedom is ascribed to the will,\nhe failed to do so in regard to the language by which power, which is a\nproperty of the mind itself, is ascribed to our desires, or passions, or\naffections, which are likewise properties of the mind. And hence have\narisen many of his difficulties in regard to the freedom of human\nactions. Supposing that our desires exerted some positive influence or\nefficiency in the production of volitions, his views on the subject of\nfree-agency become vague, inconsistent, fluctuating and unsatisfactory.\n\nThe hypothesis that the desires impel the will to act, is inconsistent\nwith observed facts. If this hypothesis were true, the phenomena of\nvolition would be very different from what they are. A man may desire\nthat it should rain, for example; he may have the most intense feeling\non this subject imaginable, and there may be no counteracting desire or\nfeeling whatever; now if desire ever impelled a man to volition, it\nwould induce him, in such a case, to will that it should rain. But no\nman, in his senses, ever puts forth a volition to make it rain--and why?\nJust because he is a rational creature, and knows that his volition\ncannot produce any such effect. In the same manner, a man might wish to\nfly, or to do a thousand other things which are beyond his power; and\nyet not make the least effort to do so, not because he has no power to\nput forth such efforts, but because he does not choose to make a fool of\nhimself: This shows that desire, feeling, &c., is merely one of the\nconditions necessary to volition, and not its producing cause.\n\nAgain. It has been frequently observed, since the time of Butler, that\nour passive impressions often become weaker and weaker, while our active\nhabits become stronger and stronger. Thus, the feeling of pity, by being\nfrequently excited, may become less and less vivid, while the active\nhabit of benevolence, by which it is supposed to be induced, becomes\nmore and more energetic. That is to say, while the power, as it is\ncalled, or the causal influence, is gradually diminishing, the effect,\nwhich is supposed to flow from it, is becoming more and more\nconspicuous. And again, the feeling of pity is sometimes exceedingly\nstrong; that is to say, exceedingly vivid and painful, while there is no\nact attending it. The passive impression or susceptibility is entirely\ndissociated, in many cases, from the acts of the will. The feeling often\nexists in all its _power_, and yet there is no act, and no disposition\nto act, on the part of the individual who is the subject of it. The\ncause operates, and yet the effect does not follow!\n\nAll that we can say is, that when we see the mind deeply agitated, and,\nas it were, carried away by a storm of passion, we also observe that it\nfrequently acts with great vehemency. But we do not observe, and we do\nnot know, that this increased _power of action_, is the result of an\nincreased _power of feeling_. All that we know is, that as a matter of\nfact, when our feelings are languid, we are apt to act but feebly; and\nthat when they are intense, we are accustomed to act with energy. Or, in\nother words, that we do not _ordinarily_ act with so much energy in\norder to gratify a slight feeling or emotion, as we do to gratify one of\ngreater intensity and painfulness. But it is wrong to conclude from\nhence, that it is the increased intensity of feeling, which produces the\nincreased energy of the action. No matter how intense the feeling, it is\nwrong to conclude, that it literally causes us to act, that it ever lays\nthe will under constraint, and thereby destroys, even for a moment, our\nfree-agency. Such an assumption is a mere hypothesis, unsupported by\nobservation, inconsistent with the dictates of reason, and\nirreconcilable with observed facts.\n\nI repeat it, such an assumption is inconsistent with observed facts; for\nwho that has any energy of will, has not, on many a trying occasion,\nstood firm amid the fiercest storm of passion; and, though the elements\nof discord raged within, remained _himself_ unmoved; giving not the\nleast sign or manifestation of what was passing in his bosom? Who has\nnot felt, on such an occasion, that although the passions may storm, yet\nthe will alone is power?\n\nIt is not uncommon to see this truth indirectly recognized by those who\n_absolutely know_ that some power is exerted by our passions and\ndesires, and that the will is always determined by the strongest. Thus,\nsays President Day, \"our acts of choice, are _not_ always controlled by\nthose emotions which _appear to be most vivid_. We often find a\ndetermined and settled purpose, apparently calm, but unyielding, which\ncarries a man steadily forward, amid all the solicitations of appetite\nand passion The inflexible determination of Howard, _gave law to his\nemotions_, and guided his benevolent movements,\" p. 65. Here, although\nPresident Day holds that the will is determined by the strongest desire,\npassion, or emotion, he unconsciously admits that the will, \"the\ninflexible determination,\" is independent of them all.\n\nLet it be supposed, that no one means so absurd a thing as to say, that\nthe affections themselves act upon the will, but that the mind in the\nexercise of its affections acts upon it, and thereby exerts a power over\nits determinations; let us suppose, that this is the manner in which a\nreal force is supposed to bear upon the will; and what will be the\nconsequence? Why, if the will is not distinguished from the affections,\nwe shall have the will acting upon itself; a doctrine to which the\nnecessitarian will not listen for a moment. And if they are\ndistinguished from the will, we shall have two powers of action, two\nforces in the mind, each contending for the mastery. But what do we mean\nby a will, if it is not the faculty by which the mind acts, by which it\nexerts a _real force?_ And if this be the idea and definition of a will,\nwe cannot distinguish the will from the affections, and say that the\nlatter exerts a real force, without making two wills. This seems to be\nthe inevitable consequence of the commonly received notion, that the\nmind, in the exercise of its affections, does really act upon the will\nwith an impelling force. Indeed, there seems to have been no little\nperplexity and confusion of conception on this subject, arising from the\nextreme subtlety of our mental processes, as well as from the\nambiguities of language.\n\nThe truth is, that in feeling the mind is passive; and it is absurd to\nmake a passive impression, the active cause of any thing. The\nsensibility does not _act_, it merely _suffers_. The appetites and\npassions, which have always been called the \"active powers,\" the \"moving\nprinciples,\" and so forth, should be called the passive\nsusceptibilities. Unless this truth be clearly and fully recognized, and\nthe commonly received notion respecting the relation which the appetites\nand passions sustain to the will, to the _active power_, be discarded,\nit seems to me, that the great doctrine of the liberty of the will, must\ncontinue to be involved in the sadest perplexity, the most distressing\ndarkness.\n\n\n\nSECTION IX.\n\nOF THE LIBERTY OF INDIFFERENCE.\n\nIF, as I have endeavoured to show, the appetites and passions exert no\npositive influence in the production of volition, if they do not sustain\nthe relation of cause to the acts of the will; then is the doctrine of\nthe liberty of indifference placed in a clear and strong light having\nadmitted that the sensitive part of our nature always tends to produce\nvolition, and in some cases irresistibly produces it, the advocates of\nfree agency have not been able to maintain the doctrine of a perfect\nliberty in regard to all human actions. They have been compelled to\nretire from the broad and open field of the controverted territory, and\nto take their stand in a dark corner, in order to contend for that\nperfect liberty, without which there cannot be a perfect and unclouded\naccountability. Hence, it has been no uncommon thing, even for those who\nhave been the most disposed to sympathize with them, to feel a\ndissatisfaction in reading what they have written on the subject of a\nliberty of indifference. This they have placed in a perfect freedom to\nchoose between a few insignificant things, in regard to which we have no\nfeeling; while, in regard to the great objects which relate to our\neternal destiny, we have been supposed to enjoy no such freedom.\n\nThe true liberty of indifference does not consist, as I have endeavoured\nto show, in a power to resist the influence of the appetites and\npassions struggling to produce volition; because there is no such\ninfluence in existence. This notion is encumbered with insuperable\ndifficulties; it supposes two powers struggling for the mastery--the\ndesires on the one hand, and the will on the other; and that when the\ndesires are so strong as to prevail, and bear us away in spite of\nourselves, we cease to be free agents. It supposes that at no time we\nhave a perfect liberty, unless we are perfectly destitute of feeling;\nand that at some of the most trying, and critical, and awful moments of\nour existence, we have no liberty at all; the whole man being passive to\nthe power and dominion of the passions. What a wound is thus given to\nthe cause of free-agency and accountability! What scope is thus allowed\nfor the sophistry of the passions! Every man who can persuade himself\nthat his appetites, his desires, or his passions, have been too strong\nfor him, may blind his mind to a sense of his guilt, and lull his\nconscience into a fatal repose.\n\nThe necessitarian, like a skilful general, is not slow to attack this\nweak point in the philosophy of free-agency. If our emotions operate to\nproduce volition, says he, then the strongest must prevail; to say\notherwise, is to say that it is not the strongest. This is the ground\nuniformly occupied by President Day. And it is urged by President\nEdwards, that if a great degree of such influence destroys free agency,\nas it is supposed to do, then every smaller degree of it must impair\nfree agency; and hence, according to the principles and scheme of its\nadvocates, it cannot be perfect. Is not this inference well drawn?\nIndeed, it seems to me, that while the notion that our desires possess a\nreal power and efficacy, which are exerted over the will, maintains its\nhold upon the mind, the great doctrine of liberty can never be seen in\nthe brightness of its full-orbed glory; and that it must, at times,\nsuffer a total eclipse.\n\nThe liberty which we really possess, then, does not consist in an\nindifference of the desires and affections, but in that of the will\nitself. We are perfectly free, says the libertarian, in regard to all\nthose things about which our feelings are in a state of indifference;\nsuch as touching one of two spots, or choosing one of two objects that\nare perfectly alike. To this the necessitarian replies, what does it\nsignify that a man has a perfect liberty in regard to the choice of \"one\nof two peppercorns?\" Are not such things perfectly insignificant, and\nunworthy \"the grave attention of the philosopher,\" while treating of the\ngreat questions of moral good and evil?\n\nThere is some truth in this reply, and some injustice. It truly\nsignifies nothing, that we are at perfect liberty to choose between two\npepper-corns, if we are not so to choose between good and evil, life and\ndeath. But in making this attack upon the position of his opponent, when\nviewed as designed to serve the cause of free-agency, the necessitarian\noverlooks its bearing upon his own scheme. He contends, that the mind\ncannot act unless it is made to act by some extraneous influence: this\nis a universal proposition, extending to all our mental acts; and hence,\nif it can be shown that, in a single instance, the mind can and does put\nforth a volition, without being made to do so, his doctrine is subverted\nfrom its foundations. If this can be shown, by a reference to the case\nof \"two pepper-corns,\" it may be made to serve an important purpose in\nphilosophy, how much soever it may be despised by the philosopher.\n\nIf we keep the distinction between the will and the sensibility in mind,\nit will throw much light on what has been written in regard to the\nsubject of indifference. If you offer a guinea and a penny to a man's\nchoice, asks President Day, which will he choose? Will the one exert as\ngreat an influence over him as the other? President Day may assert, if\nhe pleases, that the guinea will exert the greater influence over his\nfeelings; but this does not destroy the equilibrium of the will. The\nfeelings and the will are different. By the one we feel, by the other we\nact; by the one we _suffer_, by the other we _do_. Why, then, will the\nman be certain to choose the guinea, all other things being equal? Not\nbecause its influence acts upon the will, either directly or indirectly\nthrough the passions, and compels him to choose it, but because he has a\npurpose to accomplish; and, as a rational being, he sees that the guinea\nwill answer his purpose better than the penny. He is not made to act,\ntherefore, by a blind impulse; he acts freely in the light of reason.\nThe philosophy of the necessitarian overlooks the slight circumstance,\nthat the will of man is not a ball to be set a-going by external\nimpulse; but that man is a rational being, made in the image of his\nMaker, and can act as a designing cause. Hence, when we affirm that the\nwill of man acts without being made to do so by the action of any thing\nupon _the will itself_, he imagines that we dethrone the Almighty, and\n\"place chance upon the throne of the moral universe.\" Day on the Will,\np. 195. But I would remind him, once for all, that the act of a free\ndesigning cause, no less than that of a necessitated act, proceeding\nfrom an efficient cause, (if such a thing can be conceived,) is utterly\ninconsistent with the idea of accident. Choice in its very nature is\nopposed to chance.\n\nThe doctrine of the indifference of the will has been subjected to\nanother mode of attack. This doctrine implies that we have a power to\nchoose one thing or another; or, as it is sometimes called, a power of\nchoice to the contrary. For, if the will is not controlled by any\nextraneous influence, it is evident that we may choose a thing, or let\nit alone--that we may put forth a volition, or refuse to put it forth.\nThis power, which results from the idea of indifference as just\nexplained, is regarded as in the highest degree absurd; and a torrent of\nimpetuous questions is poured forth to sweep it away. \"When Satan, as a\nroaring lion,\" asks President Day, \"goeth about, seeking whom he may\ndevour, is he equally inclined to promote the salvation of mankind?\" &c.\n&c. &c. Now, I freely admit, that when Satan is inclined to do evil, and\nis actually doing it, he is not inclined to the contrary. I freely admit\nthat a thing is not different from itself; and the learned author is\nwelcome to all such triumphant positions.\n\nIn the same easy way, President Edwards, as he imagines, demolishes the\ndoctrine of indifference. He supposes that, according to this doctrine,\nthe will does not choose when it does choose; and, having supposed this,\nhe proceeds to demolish it, as if he were contending with a thousand\nadversaries; and yet, I will venture to affirm, that no man in his\nsenses ever maintained such a position. The most contemptible advocate\nof free-agency that ever lived, has maintained nothing so absurd as that\nthe mind ever chooses without choosing. This is the light in which the\ndoctrine of indifference is frequently represented by Edwards, but it is\na gross misrepresentation.\n\n\"The question is,\" says Edwards, \"whether ever the soul of man puts\nforth an act of will, while it yet remains in a state of liberty, viz:\nas implying a state of indifference; or whether the soul ever exerts an\nact of preference, while at the very time _the will_ is in a perfect\nequilibrium, not inclining one way more than another,\" p. 72. If this be\nthe point in dispute, he may well add, that \"the very putting of the\nquestion is sufficient to show the absurdity of the affirmative answer;\"\nand he might have added, the utter futility of the negative reply. \"How\nridiculous,\" he continues, \"for any body to insist that the soul chooses\none thing before another, when, at the very same instant, it is\nperfectly indifferent with respect to each! This is the same thing as to\nsay, we shall prefer one thing to another, at the very same time that it\nhas no preference. Choice and preference can no more be in a state of\nindifference than motion can be in a state of rest,\" &c. p. 72. And he\nrepeats it over and over again, that this is to put \"the soul in a state\nof choice, and in a state of equilibrium at the same time;\" \"choosing\none way, while it remains in a state of perfect indifference, and has no\nchoice of one way more than the other;\" p. 74. \"To suppose the will to\nact at all in a state of indifference, is to assert that the mind\nchooses without choosing,\" p. 64; and so in various other places.\n\nNow, if the doctrine of the indifference of the will, as commonly\nunderstood, amounts to this, that the will does not choose when it\nchooses, then Edwards was certainly right in opposing it; but how could\nhe have expected to correct such incorrigible blockheads as the authors\nof such a doctrine must have been, by the force of logic?\n\nEdwards has not always, though frequently, mis-stated the doctrine of\nhis adversaries. The liberty of indifference, says he, in one place,\nconsists in this, \"that the will, in choosing, is subject to _no\nprevailing_ influence,\" p. 64. Now this is a fair statement of the\ndoctrine in question. Why did not Edwards, then, combat this idea? Why\ntransform it into the monstrous absurdity, that \"the will chooses\nwithout choosing,\" or exerts an act of choice at the same time that it\nexerts no act of choice; and then proceed to demolish it? Was it because\nhe did not wish to march up, fairly and squarely, in the face of the\nenemy, and contend with them in their strongholds and fastnesses? By no\nmeans. There never was a more honest reasoner than Edwards. But his\npsychology is false; and hence, he has not only misrepresented the\ndoctrine of his opponents, but also his own. He confounds the sensitive\npart of our nature with the will, expressly in his definitions, though\nhe frequently distinguishes them in his arguments. This is the reason\nwhy he sometimes asserts, that the choice of the mind is always as the\nsense of the most agreeable; and, at others, throws this fundamental\ndoctrine into the form, as we have seen in our third section, that the\nchoice of the mind is always as the choice of the mind; and holds that\nto deny it is a plain contradiction. By reason of the same confusion of\nthings, the doctrine of his opponents, that \"the will, in choosing, is\nsubject to no prevailing influence,\" seemed to him to mean that the\nwill, in choosing, does not choose. In both cases, he confounds the most\nagreeable impression upon the sensibility with the choice of the mind;\nand thus misrepresents both his own doctrine, and that of his opponents,\nby reducing the one to an insignificant truism, and the other to a\nglaring absurdity. President Day should have avoided the error of\nEdwards, in thus misconceiving the doctrine of his opponents; for he\nexpressly distinguishes the sensibility from the will. But there is this\ndifference between Edwards and Day; the first expressly confounds these\ntwo parts of our nature, and then proceeds to reason, in many cases, as\nif they were distinct; while the last most explicitly distinguishes\nthem, and then frequently proceeds to reason as if they were one and the\nsame. It is in this way that he also gravely teaches that the mind\nchooses when it chooses; and makes his adversaries assert that the mind\nchooses without choosing, or that the will is inclined without being\ninclined. Start from whatever point he will, the necessitarian never\nfeels so strong, as when he finds himself securely intrenched in the\ntruism, that a thing is always as itself; there manfully contending\nagainst those who assert that a thing is different from itself.\n\nThe doctrine of the liberty of indifference, as usually held, is\nthis--that the will is not determined by any prevailing influence. This\nis not a perfect liberty, it is true, wherever the will is partially\ninfluenced by an extraneous cause; but it is not equivalent to the gross\nabsurdity of the position, that the will chooses without choosing. Nor\ncan we possibly reduce it to this form, unless we forget that the\nauthors of it did not confound that which is supposed to exert the\ninfluence over the will, with the act of the will itself. They contended\nfor a partial indifference of the will only; and, consequently, they\ncould only contend for a partial, and not a perfect liberty. On the\ncontrary, I think we should contend for a perfect indifference, not in\nregard to feeling, but in regard to the will. Standing on this high\nground, we need not retire from the broad and open field, in order to\nset up the empire of a perfect liberty in a dark corner, extending to a\nfew insignificant things only: we may establish it over the whole range\nof human activity, bringing out into a clear and full light, the great\nfact of man's perfect accountability, for all his _actions_, under all\nthe circumstances of his life.\n\n\n\nSECTION X.\n\nOF ACTION AND PASSION.\n\nTHERE are no two things in nature which are more perfectly distinct than\naction and passion; the one necessarily excludes the other. Thus, if an\neffect is produced in any thing, by the action or influence of something\nelse, then is the thing in which the effect is produced wholly passive\nin regard to it. The effect itself is called passion or passiveness. It\nis not an act of that in which it is produced; it is an effect resulting\nwholly from that which produces it. To say that a thing acts then, is to\nsay that it is not passive; or, in other words, that its act is not\nproduced by the action or influence of any thing else. To suppose that\nan act is so produced, is to suppose that it is not an act; the object\nin which it is said to be caused being wholly passive in regard to it.\n\nIf this statement be correct, it follows that an act of the mind cannot\nbe a produced effect; that the ideas of action and passion, of cause and\neffect, are opposite and contrary the one to the other; and hence, it is\nabsurd to assert that the mind may be caused to act, or that a volition\ncan be produced by any thing acting upon the mind. This is a\nself-evident truth. The younger Edwards calls for proof of it; but the\nonly evidence there is in the case, is that which arises from the nature\nof the things themselves, as they must appear to every mind which will\nbestow suitable reflection on the subject. But as he held the\naffirmative, maintaining that the mind is caused to act, it would have\nbeen well for him to have furnished proof himself, before he called for\nit from the opposite party.\n\nIt may be said, that if it were self-evident that the mind cannot be\ncaused to act, it would appear so to all men, and there could be no\ndoubt on the subject; that a truth or proposition cannot be said to be\nself-evident, unless it carries irresistible conviction to every mind to\nwhich it is proposed. But this does not follow. Previous to the time of\nGalileo, it was universally believed by mankind, that if a body were set\nin motion, it would run down of itself; though it should meet with no\nresistance whatever in its progress. But that great philosopher, by\nreflecting on the nature of matter, very clearly saw, that if a body\nwere put in motion, and met with no resistance, it would continue to\nmove on in a right line forever. As matter is inert, so he saw that it\ncould not put itself in motion; and if put in motion by the action of\nany thing upon it, he perceived with equal clearness that it could not\ncheck itself in its career. He perceived that it is just as impossible\nfor passive, inert matter, to change its state from motion to rest, as\nit is for it to change its state from rest to motion. Thus, by simply\nreflecting upon the nature of matter, as that which cannot act, the mind\nof Galileo recognized it as a self-evident and unquestionable truth,\nthat if a body be put in motion, and there is nothing to impede its\ncareer, it will move on in a right line forever. This great law of\nmotion, first recognized by Galileo, and afterwards adopted by all other\nphilosophers, is called the law of inertia; because its truth\nnecessarily results from the fact, that matter is essentially inert, or\ncannot act.\n\nI am aware it has been contended by Mr. Whewell, in his Bridgewater\nTreatise, that the law of motion in question is not a necessary or\nself-evident truth; and the reason he assigns is, that if it were a\ntruth of this nature, it would have been recognized and believed by all\nmen before the time of Galileo. But this reason is not good. For if it\ndid not appear self-evident to those philosophers who lived before\nGalileo, it was because they did not bestow sufficient reflection upon\nthe subject, and not because it was not a self-evident truth. All men\nhad seen bodies moving only in a resisting medium, amid counteracting\ninfluences; and having always seen them run down in such a medium, they\nvery naturally concluded that a body put in motion would run down of\nitself. Yielding to an illusion of the senses, instead of rising above\nit by a sustained effort of reason and meditation, they supposed that\nthe motion of a body would spend itself in the course of time, and so\ncome to an end without any cause of its extinction. This is the reason\nwhy they did not see, what must have appeared to be a self-evident\ntruth, if they had bestowed sufficient reflection upon the subject,\ninstead of being swayed by an illusion of the senses.\n\nMr. Whewell admits the law in question to be a truth; he only denies\nthat it is a necessary or self-evident truth. Now, if it be not a\nnecessary truth, I should like to know how he has ascertained it to be a\ntruth at all. Has any man ever seen a body put in motion, and continue\nto move on in a right line forever? Has any man ever ascertained the\ntruth of this law by observation and experiment? It is evident, that if\nit be true at all, it must be a necessary truth. Who that is capable of\nrising above the associations of sense, so as to view things as they are\nin themselves, can meditate upon this subject, without perceiving that\nthe law of _inertia_ is a self-evident truth, necessarily arising out of\nthe very nature of matter?\n\nIt does not follow, then, that a truth is not \"self-evident\", because it\ndoes not appear so to all men; for some may be blinded to the truth by\nan illusion of the senses. This is the case, with the necessitarian. He\nhas always seen the motion of body produced by the action of something\nelse; and hence, confounding the activity of mind with the motion of\nbody, he concludes that volition is produced by the prior action of\nsomething else. All that he needs in order to see the impossibility of\nsuch a thing, is severe and sustained meditation. But how can we expect\nthis from him? Is he not a great reasoner, rather than a great thinker?\nDoes he not display his skill in drawing logical conclusions from the\nillusions of the senses, and assumptions founded thereon; rather than in\nlaying his foundations and his premises aright, in the immutable depths\nof meditation and consciousness? We may appeal to his _reason_, and he\nwill fall to _reasoning_. We may ask for _meditation_, and he will give\nus _logic_. Indeed, he wants that severe and scrutinizing observation\nwhich pierces through all the illusions and associations of the senses,\nrising to a contemplation of things as they are in themselves; which is\none of the best attributes of the great thinker.\n\nTo show that he does this, I shall begin with President Day. No other\nnecessitarian has made so formal and elaborate an attempt to prove, that\nthe mind may be caused to act. He undertakes to answer the objection\nwhich has been urged against the scheme of moral necessity, that it\nconfounds action and passion. It is alleged, that a volition cannot be\nproduced or caused by the action or influence of any thing. To this\nPresident Day replies, \"these are terms of very convenient ambiguity,\nwith which it is easy to construct a plausible but fallacious argument.\nThe word passive is sometimes used to signify that which is _inactive_.\nWith this meaning, it must, of course, be the opposite of every thing\nwhich is active. To say that that which is in _this_ sense passive, is\nat the same time active, is to assert that that which is active is not\nactive. But this is not the only signification of the term passive in\ncommon use. It is very frequently used to express the relation of an\neffect to its cause,\" p. 159.\n\nNow, here is the distinction, but is it not without a difference? If an\neffect is produced, is it not passive in relation to its cause? This is\nnot denied. Is it active then in relation to any thing? President Day\nsays it is. But is this so? Is not an effect, which is wholly produced\nin one thing by the action or influence of another, wholly passive? Is\nnot the thing which, according to the supposition, is wholly passive to\nthe influence acting upon it, wholly passive? In other words; is it made\nto act? Does it not merely suffer? If it is endued with an active\nnature, and really puts forth an act, is not this act clearly different\nfrom the passive impression made upon it?\n\nOne would certainly suppose so, but for the logic of the necessitarian.\nLet us examine this logic. \"The term passive,\" says President Day, \"is\nsometimes employed to express the relation of an effect to its cause. In\nthis sense, it is so far from being inconsistent with activity, that\nactivity may be the very effect which is produced. A thing may be\n_caused_ to be active. A cannon shot is said to be passive, with respect\nto the charge of powder which impels it. But is there no activity given\nto the ball? Is not the whirlwind active, when it tears up the forest?\"\n&c. &c., p. 160.\n\nNow, all these illustrations are brought to show that the mind may be\ncaused to act;--that it may be passive in relation to the cause of its\nvolition, and active in relation to the effect of its volition. A more\nstriking instance could not be adduced to prove the correctness of the\nassertion already made, that the necessitarian confounds the motion of\nbody with the action of mind. \"A thing may be caused to act,\" says\nPresident Day. But how does he show this? By showing that a thing may be\ncaused to move! \"Is no _activity_ given to the ball? Is not the\nwhirlwind _active_, when it tears up the forest?\" And so he goes on,\nleaving the light of reason and of consciousness; now rushing into the\ndarkness of the whirlwind; now riding \"on the mountain wave;\" and now\nplunging into the depths of \"volcanic lava;\"--all the time in quest of\nlight respecting the phenomena of mind! We could have wished him to stop\nawhile, in the impetuous current of rhetoric, and inform us, whether he\nreally considers, \"the motion of a ball\" as the same thing with the\nvolition of the mind. If he does, then he may suppose that his\nillustrations are to the purpose, how great soever may be his mistake;\nbut if he supposes there is a real difference between them, how can he\never pretend to show that mind may be caused to act, by showing that\nbody may be caused to move?\n\nI freely admit, that body may be caused to move. Body is perfectly\npassive in motion; and hence, its motion may be caused. But the mind is\nnot passive in volition; and hence the difference in the two cases. It\nis an error, as I have already said, pervading the views of the\nnecessitarian, that he confounds the action of mind with the motion of\nbody. Even Mr. Locke, who, in some places, has recognized the essential\ndifference between them, has frequently confounded them in his\nreasonings and illustrations. Hence, it becomes necessary to bear this\ndistinction always in mind, in the examination of their writings. It\nshould be rendered perfectly clear to our minds by meditation; and never\npermitted to grow dim through forgetfulness. This is indispensably\nnecessary to shut out the illusions of the senses, in order that we may\nhave a clear and unclouded view of the phenomena of nature.\n\nIs the motion of body, then, one and the same thing with the action of\nmind? They are frequently called by the same name. The motion of mind,\nand the action of body, are very common modes of expression. Body is\nsaid to act, when it only moves; and mind is said to move, when it\nreally acts. These metaphors and supposed analogies are intimately and\ninseparably interwoven into the very frame-work of our language; and\nhence the necessity of guarding against them in our conceptions. They\nare almost as subtle as the great adversary of truth; and therefore we\nshould be constantly on the watch, lest we should be deceived or misled\nby them.\n\nLet us look, then, at these things just as they are in themselves. When\na body moves, it simply passes from one place to another; and when the\nmind acts or chooses, it simply prefers one thing to another. Here,\nthere is no real identity or sameness of nature. The body _suffers_ a\nchange; the mind itself _acts_. The one is pure passim or passiveness;\nthe other is pure action--the very opposite of passivity. The one is a\n_suffering_, and the other is a _doing_. There are no two things in the\nwhole range of nature, which are more perfectly and essentially\ndistinct; and he who confounds them in his reasonings, as philosophers\nhave so often done, can never arrive at a clear perception of the truth.\n\nPresident Day, if he intended any thing to the purpose, undertook to\nshow that an act may be produced in mind, in that which is active, by\nthe action or influence of something else; and what has he shown? Why,\nthat body may be caused to move! Let a case be produced in which the\nmind, the active soul of man, is made to act: let a case be produced in\nwhich a volition is caused to exist in the soul of man, by the action or\ninfluence of any thing whatever, and it will be something to the\npurpose: but what does it signify to tell us, that a body, that that\nwhich is wholly and essentially passive in its nature, may be made to\nmove, or _suffer_ a change of place? A more palpable sophism was never\nperpetrated; and that such a mind should have recourse to such an\nargument, only betrays the miserable weakness, and the forlorn\nhopelessness, of the cause in which it is enlisted.\n\nIndeed, the learned president seems, after all, to be at least half\nconscious that the analogies of matter can throw no light on the\nphenomena of mind; and that what he has so eloquently said, amounts to\njust nothing at all. For he says, \"It may be objected, that these are\nall examples of _inanimate_ objects; and that they have no proper\napplication to mental activity,\" p. 161. Yes, truly, this is the very\nobjection which we should urge against all the fine illustrations of\nPresident Day; and it is a full and complete answer to them. It is the\ngreat principle of the inductive study of mind, that its phenomena can\nbe understood only in so far as we have observed them in the pure light\nof consciousness, and no farther; they should never be viewed through\nthe darkening and confounding analogies of matter.\n\nNo one, that I know of, has ever denied that a body may be caused to\nmove; the only point on which we desire to be enlightened is, whether\nthe mind may be caused to act. To this point President Day next directly\ncomes. Leaving \"inanimate objects,\" he says, \"take the case of deep and\nearnest thinking. Is there no activity in this? And is it without a\ncause? When reading the orations of Demosthenes, or the demonstrations\nof Newton, are our minds wholly inactive; or if they think intensely,\nhave our thoughts no dependence on the book before us?\" p. 161. Truly,\nthere is activity in this, in our \"deep and earnest thinking\"; but what\nis the cause of this activity? Does the book before us _cause_ us to\nthink? This is the point at which the argument of the author is driving,\nand to which it should come, if it would be to the purpose, and yet he\ndoes not seem to like to speak it out right manfully; and hence, instead\nof saying that the book causes us to think, he chooses to say that our\nthoughts have a _dependence_ on the book. It is true, that no man can\nread a book, unless he has it to read; and, consequently, his thoughts\nin reading the book are absolutely dependent on the possession of it.\nBut still, the possession of a book is the _condition_, and not the\n_cause_, of his reading it. The cause of a thing, and the indispensable\n_condition_ of it, are perfectly distinct from each other; and the\nargument of Day, in confounding them, has presented us with another\nsophism.\n\nThe ideas of a condition and of a cause, though so different in\nthemselves, are always blended together by necessitarians; and hence the\nconfusion into which they run. Edwards has united them, as we have seen,\nunder the term cause; and then employed this term to signify the one or\nthe other at his pleasure. The word \"dependence,\" is the favourite of\nPresident Day; and he uses it with fully as much vagueness and\nvacillation of meaning, as Edwards does the term cause. He has\nundertaken to show us, that the mind may be _caused_ to act; and he has\nshown us, that a particular class of thoughts cannot come to existence,\nexcept upon a particular condition! This is not to reason; but to slip\nand to slide from one meaning of an ambiguous word to another.\n\nWhen it is said that the mind cannot be caused to act, President Day\nmust have known in what sense the term cause is used in this\nproposition. He must have known, that no one meant to assert, that there\nare no _conditions_ or _antecedents_, on which the action of the mind\ndepends. There is not an advocate of free-agency in the universe, who\nwill contend, that the mind can choose a thing, unless there is a thing\nto be chosen; or, to take his own illustration, can read a book, unless\nthere is a book to be read. The question is not, whether there are\n_conditions_, without the existence of which the mind cannot act; this\nno one denies; but whether there is, or can be, a real and efficient\ncause of the mind's action. The point in dispute, relates not to mere\nfact of dependence, but to the _nature_ of that dependence. The question\nis, _can the mind be efficiently caused to act?_ This being the\nquestion, what does it signify to tell us, that it cannot read a book,\nunless it has a book to read? Or what does it signify to tell us, that a\nbody may be caused to move? These are mere irrelevancies; they fall\nshort of the point in dispute; and they only seem to reach it by means\nof a very \"convenient ambiguity\" of words.\n\nBut still it may be said, that although a body is passive in motion, it\nmay act upon other bodies, and thereby communicate motion to them. This\nis the ground taken by President Day. \"The very same thing,\" says he,\n\"may be both cause and effect. The mountain wave, which is the effect of\nthe wind, may be the cause which buries the ship in the ocean,\" p. 160.\nI am aware, that one body is frequently said to _act_ upon another; but\nthis word action, as President Day has well said, is a term \"of very\nconvenient ambiguity, with which it is easy to construct a plausible but\nfallacious argument,\" p. 159. The only cause in every case of motion, is\nthat _force_, whatever it may be, which acts upon the body moved, and\nputs it in motion. All the rest is pure passion or passiveness. The\nmotion of the body is not action; it is the most pure passion of which\nthe mind can form a conception. If a body in action is said to act upon\nanother, this is but a metaphor; there is no real action in the case.\nIndeed, if a body be put in motion, and meets with no resistance, it\nwill move on in a right line forever--and why? just because of its\n_inertia_, of its inherent destitution of a power to act. As a\nmathematician, President Day certainly knew all this; but he seems to\nhave forgotten it all, in his eagerness to support the cause of moral\nnecessity.\n\nHe saw that motion is frequently called action; he saw that one body is\nsometimes said to act upon another; and this was sufficient for his\npurpose. He did not reflect upon the natures of motion and of volition,\nas they are in themselves; he views them through the medium of an\nambiguous phraseology. Nor did he reflect, that if motion is\ncommunicated from one body to another, this is not because one body\nreally acts upon another, but because it is impossible for two bodies to\noccupy the same place at one and the same time. He did not reflect, that\nif motion is communicated from one body to another, this does not arise\nfrom the activity, but from the impenetrability of matter. In short, he\ndid not reflect, that there is no state or phenomena of matter, whatever\nmay be its name, that at all resembles the state of mind which we call\naction or volition; or else he would have seen, that all his\nillustrations drawn from material objects can throw no light on the\npoint in controversy.\n\nWe find the same confusion of things in the works of the Edwardses. We\ndo not at all confound action and passion, President Edwards contends,\nby supposing that acts of the soul are effects, wherein the soul is the\nobject of something acting upon and influencing it, p. 203. And again,\n\"It is no more a contradiction to suppose that action may be the effect\nof some other cause beside the agent, or being that acts, than to\nsuppose that life may be the effect of some other cause beside the being\nthat lives,\" p. 203. The younger Edwards also asserts, that \"to say that\nan agent that is acted upon cannot act, is as groundless, as to say,\nthat a body acted upon cannot move,\" p. 131. We might adduce many\nsimilar passages; but these are sufficient. What do they prove? If they\nare any thing to the purpose, they are only so by confounding motion\nwith volition, passion with action.\n\nNo one would pretend to deny, that the mind may be, and is, caused to\nexist, or that the agent may be caused to live. In regard to our being\nand living we are perfectly passive; and hence we admit that we may be\ncaused to exist and to live. _Living_ and _being_ are not _acting_. We\nare not passive in regard to volition; this is an act of the mind\nitself. The above assertions only overlook the slight circumstance that\n_being_ and _doing_ are two different things; that motion is not\nvolition, that passion is not action. This strange confusion of things\nis very common in the writings of the Edwardses, as well as in those of\nall other necessitarians.\n\nEdwards held volition to be a produced effect. This identifies a passive\nimpression made upon the mind, with an act of the mind itself. In order\nto escape this difficulty, Edwards was bound to show that action and\npassion are not opposite in their natures. \"Action, when properly set in\nopposition to passion or passiveness,\" says he, \"is no real existence;\nit is not the same with _an action_, but is a mere relation.\" And again,\n\"Action and passion are not two contrary natures;\" when placed in\nopposition they are only contrary relations. The same ground is taken by\nPresident Day. \"Are not cause and effect,\" says he, \"opposite in their\nnatures? They are opposite relations, but not always opposite things.\"\nThey contend, that an object may be passive in relation to one thing,\nand active in relation to another; that a volition may be passive in\nrelation to its producing cause, and yet active in relation to its\nproduced effect.\n\nNow, this is not true. An act is opposite in its nature to a passive\nimpression made upon the mind. This every man may clearly see by\nsuitable reflection, if he will not blind himself to the truth, as the\nnecessitarian always does, by false analogies drawn from the world of\nmatter, and the phenomena of motion. We have seen how President Day has\nattempted to show, that an object may be passive in relation to one\nthing, and yet active in relation to another; and that in all these\nattempts he has confounded the motion of body with the action or choice\nof mind. We have seen that all the illustrations adduced to throw light\non this subject are fallacious. Let this subject be studied in the light\nof consciousness, not through the darkening and confounding medium of\nfalse analogies, and we may safely anticipate a verdict in our favour.\nFor who that will closely and steadily reflect upon _an action_ of the\nmind, does not perceive that it is different, in nature and in kind,\nfrom a passive impression made upon the mind from without? I do not say\naction, which President Edwards seems to think does not signify any\nthing positive, such as _an action_, when it is set in opposition to\npassion; but I say that _an action_ itself is opposite in its nature to\npassion, to a produced effect.\n\nPresident Edwards cannot escape the absurdity of his doctrine by\nalleging, that when action and passion are set in opposition, they do\nnot signify opposite natures, but only opposite relations. For he has\nconfounded _an act_ of the mind with a _passive impression_ made\nthereon; and these things are opposite in their natures, whether he is\npleased to say that action and passion are opposite _natures_ or not.\n\nThis position may be easily established. \"I humbly conceive,\" says he,\n\"that the affections of the soul are not properly distinguished from the\nwill, as though they were two faculties in the soul.\" . . . . \"The\naffections are no other than the more vigorous and sensible exercises of\nthe inclination and will of the soul.\" These passages are referred to by\nPresident Day to prove, that Edwards regarded our \"emotions or\naffections as acts of the will,\" p. 39. Having confounded the will and\nthe sensibility, it became exceedingly easy for Edwards to show that a\nvolition may be produced or caused: all that he had to do was to show,\nthat an emotion may be produced, which is the same thing with an act of\nthe will or a volition. It is upon this confusion of things, that his\nwhole system rests; for if the sensibility is different from the will,\nas most persons, at the present day, will admit it is; then to excite an\nemotion, or to make a passive impression upon the sensibility, is very\ndifferent from producing a volition.\n\nEdwards has taken great pains with the superstructure of his system,\nwhile he has left its foundations without support. He has not shown, nor\ncan any man show, that the sensibility and the will are one and the same\nfaculty of the soul. He assumes that an emotion is an act of the will,\nand then proceeds to build upon it, and to argue from it, as if it were\na clear and unquestionable truth. Thus, he repeatedly says, that\nwhatever pleases us most, or excites the most agreeable sensation, is\nthat which \"operates to induce a volition;\" and to say otherwise, is to\nassert that that which pleases us most, does not please us most. Such\nassertions, (and I have already had occasion to adduce many such,)\nclearly identify a sense of the most agreeable, or the most pleasing\nemotion, with an act of the will. His definition, as we have already\nseen, laid the foundation for this, and his arguments are based upon it.\nThe passive impression, or the sensation produced, is, according to\nEdwards, a volition! No wonder, then, that he could conceive of an\naction of the mind _as being produced_. The wonder is, how he could\nconceive of it _as being an action at all_.\n\nLet us suppose, now, that a feeling or an emotion is produced by an\nobject in view of the mind. It will follow, that the mind is passive in\nfeeling, or in experiencing emotion. We are conscious of such feeling or\nemotion; and hence we infer, that we are susceptible of feeling or\nemotion. This susceptibility we call the sensibility, the heart, the\naffections, &c. But there is another phenomenon of our nature, which is\nperfectly distinct in nature and in kind from an emotion or a feeling.\nWe are conscious of a volition or choice; and hence we infer that we\nhave a power of acting, or putting forth volitions. This power we call\nthe will.\n\nNow, the phenomena exhibited by these two faculties of the soul, the\nsensibility and the will, are entirely different from each other; and\nthere is not the least shadow of evidence going to show that the\nfaculties themselves are one and the same. On the contrary, we are\ncompelled by a fundamental law of belief, to regard the susceptibility\nof our nature, by which we feel, as different from that power of the\nsoul, by which we act or put forth volitions. The only reason we have\nfor saying that matter is different from mind, is that its\nmanifestations or phenomena are different; and we have a similar reason\nfor asserting, that the emotive part of our nature, or the sensibility,\nis distinct from the will. And yet, in the face of all this, President\nEdwards has expressly denied that there is any difference between these\ntwo faculties of the soul. It is in this confusion of things, in this\nfalse psychology, that he has laid the foundation of his system.\n\nIf President Edwards be right, it is no wonder that the younger Edwards\nshould so often assert, that it is no more absurd to say, that volition\nmay be caused, than it is to say, that feeling or emotion may be caused.\nFor, if the doctrine in question be true, a volition is an emotion or\nfeeling; and to produce the one is to produce the other. How short and\neasy has the path of the necessitarian been made, by a convenient\ndefinition!\n\nIf we only bear the distinction between the sensibility and the will in\nmind, it will be exceedingly easy to see through the cloudy\nsophistications of the necessitarian. \"How does it appear to be a\n_fact_,\" asks President Day, \"that the will cannot act when it is acted\nupon?\" I reply that the _will_ is not acted upon at all; that passive\nimpressions are made upon the sensibility, and not upon the will. This\nis a _fact_ which the necessitarian always overlooks.\n\nAgain; the same object may be both passive and active; passive with\nrespect to one thing, and active with respect to another. Thus, says\nPresident Day, \"The axe is passive, with respect to the hand which moves\nit; but active, with respect to the object which it strikes. The cricket\nclub is passive in _receiving_ motion from the hand of the player; it is\nactive in _communicating_ motion to the ball.\" The fallacy of all such\nillustrations, in confounding motion and action, I have already noticed,\nand I intend to say nothing more in relation to this point. But there is\nanother less palpable fallacy in them.\n\nHow are such illustrations intended to be applied to the phenomena of\nvolition? Is it meant, that volition itself is passive in relation to\none thing, and active in relation to another? If so, I reply it is\nabsurd to affirm, that volition, or an act, is passive in relation to\nany thing? Is it meant, that not volition itself, but the will, is\npassive to that which acts upon it, while it is active in relation to\nits effect? If so, I contend that the will is not acted upon at all;\nthat the passive impression is made upon the sensibility, and not upon\nthe will. Is it supposed, that it is neither the volition nor the will,\nwhich is both active and passive at the same time; but that it is the\nmind? This may be very true. The mind may be passive, if you please, in\nrelation to that which acts upon its sensibility, while it is active in\nvolition; but how does this prove the doctrine, that _an act_ may be\nproduced by something else acting upon the will? How does this show,\nthat action and passion are not confounded, in supposing that an act is\ncaused? The passive impression, the state of the sensibility is produced\nbut this is not _a volition_. The passive impression exists in the\nsensibility; the volition exists in the will. The first is a produced\neffect; the last is an act of the mind. And the only way in which this\nact of the mind itself has been linked with that which acts upon the\nmind, as an effect is linked with its cause, has been by confounding the\n_sensibility_ with the _will_; and the light of this distinction is no\nsooner held up, than we see that a very important link is wanting in the\nchain of the necessitarian's logic. Let this light be carried around\nthrough all the dark corners of his system, and through all its dark\nlabyrinths of words; and many a lurking sophism will be detected and\nbrought out from its unsuspected hiding place.\n\nWhen it is said, that the same thing may be active and passive, this\nremark should be understood with reference to the mind itself. The\nlanguage of the necessitarian, I am aware, sometimes points to the\nvolition itself, and sometimes to the will; but we should always\nunderstand him as referring to the mind. He may not have so understood\nhimself; but he must be so understood. For it is not the will that acts;\nit is the mind. This is conceded by the necessitarian. Hence, when he\nsays, that the same thing may be both active and passive, he must be\nunderstood as applying this proposition to the mind itself; and not to\nthe will or to volition. It is the mind that acts; and hence the mind\nmust be also passive; or we cannot say that _the same thing_ may be both\nactive and passive.\n\nThe mind then, it may be said, is both active and passive at the same\ntime. But it is passive in regard to its emotions and feelings; and\nhence, if you please, these may be produced. It is active in regard to\nits volitions, or rather in its volitions; and hence these cannot be\nproduced by the action of any thing upon the mind. To show that they\ncan, the necessitarian, as we have seen, has confounded a passive\nimpression with an active volition. If these be distinct, as they most\nclearly are, the necessitarian can make his point good, only by showing\nthat the passive impression made upon the mind, is connected with the\nvolition of the mind, as a producing cause is connected with its effect.\nBut this he has not shown; and hence his whole system rests upon\ngratuitous and unfounded assumptions. I say his whole system; for if the\nmind cannot be caused to act, if it is absurd to speak of a produced\naction, it is not true, that an action or volition does or can result\nfrom the necessitating action, or influence of motives.\n\n\n\nSECTION XI.\n\nOF THE ARGUMENT FROM THE FOREKNOWLEDGE OF GOD.\n\nTHE argument from the foreknowledge of God, is one on which the\nnecessitarian relies with great confidence. Nor is this at all\nsurprising; since to so many minds, even among distinguished\nphilosophers, the prescience of Deity and the free-agency of man have\nappeared to be irreconcilable.\n\nThus, says Mr. Stewart, \"I have mentioned the attempt of Clarke and\nothers to show that no valid argument against the scheme of free-will\ncan be deduced from the prescience of God, even supposing _that_ to\nextend to all the actions of voluntary beings. On this point I must\ndecline offering any opinion of my own, because I conceive it as placed\nfar beyond the reach of our faculties.\" Dr. Campbell also says, \"To\nreconcile the divine prescience with the freedom, and even contingency,\nand consequently with the good or ill desert of human actions, is what I\nhave never yet seen achieved by any, and indeed despair of seeing.\" And\nMr. Locke declares, \"I cannot make freedom in man consistent with\nomnipotence and omniscience in God, though I am as fully persuaded of\nboth as of any truth I most firmly assent to; and therefore I have long\nsince given off the consideration of that subject, resolving all into\nthis short conclusion, that if it is possible for God to make a\nfree-agent, then man is free, though I see not the way of it.\"\n\nSentiments like these, which are so often met with in the writings of\neminent philosophers, have repeatedly led me to reconsider the\nconclusion at which I have arrived on this subject; but I have been able\nto discover no reason why it should be abandoned. Indeed, if authority\nwere a sufficient reason why the great difficulty in question should be\nregarded as incapable of being solved, I should abandon it in despair,\nand leave the necessitarian to make the most of his argument; but it has\nonly induced me to proceed with the greater caution; and this, instead\nof having shaken my convictions, has settled them with the greater\nfirmness and clearness in my mind. Whether I am in the right, or whether\nI labour under a hallucination, satisfactory only to myself, and\nperplexing to all others, I must submit to the candid consideration of\nthe reader.\n\nWhy should it be thought impossible to reconcile the free-agency of man\nwith the foreknowledge of God? No one pretends that there is any\ndisagreement between the things themselves, as they really exist; if\nthere is any discrepancy in the case, it must exist only between our\nideas of foreknowledge and free-agency. Indeed, we cannot think of the\nthings themselves, or compare them, except by means of the ideas we have\nformed of then; and if our ideas of them are really irreconcilable, it\nis because they have not been correctly formed, and do not correspond\nwith the things themselves. What shall we do then? Shall we set to work\nto reform our ideas? Shall we explain away the free-agency of man, or\ndeny the foreknowledge of God? No. We may retain both.\n\nEdwards contends, that volitions are brought to pass by the influence of\nmotives, and that it is impossible in any case, that a volition should\ndepart from the influence of the strongest motive. This is the great\ndoctrine of moral necessity, which it is the object of President Edwards\nto establish. Now, if his celebrated argument, or \"demonstration,\" as it\nis called, proves this point, then it is to be held as true and valid;\nbut if it only proves some other thing which is called by the name of\nnecessity, it is not to the purpose. And if it can be shown, that his\nargument does not prove any thing at all in relation to the causation of\nchoice, it will appear that it has no relevancy to the point at issue.\n\nThe foreknowledge of God, I admit, infers the necessity of all human\nactions, in one sense of the word; but not that _kind_ of necessity for\nwhich any necessitarian pleads, or against which _any_ libertarian is at\nall concerned to contend. The fallacy of the argument in question is,\nthat it shows all human actions to be necessary in a sense in which it\nis not opposed to any scheme of liberty whatever, and assumes them to be\nnecessary in another and quite different sense; and thus the great\ndoctrine of freewill, otherwise so clear and unquestionable, is\novershadowed and obscured by an imperfect and ambiguous phraseology,\nrather than by the inherent difficulties of the subject. This is the\nposition which I shall endeavour to establish.\n\nThe first argument of President Edwards is as follows. When the\nexistence of a thing is infallibly and indissolubly connected with\nsomething else, which has already had existence, then its existence is\nnecessary; but the future volitions of moral agents, are infallibly and\nindissolubly connected with the foreknowledge of God; and therefore they\nare necessary, p. 114-15. Now this argument is perfectly sound; the\nconclusion is really contained in the premise, or definition of\nnecessity, and it is fairly deduced from it. It is as perfect as any\nsyllogism in Euclid _but what does it prove?_ It proves that all human\nactions are necessary--but in what sense? Does it prove that they are\nnecessary with a _moral necessity?_ Does it prove that they are brought\nto pass by the influence of moral causes? No such thing is even\npretended: \"I allow what Dr. Whitby says to be true,\" says Edwards,\n\"that mere foreknowledge does not affect the thing known, to _make_ it\nmore certain or future,\" p. 122. He admits that foreknowledge exerts \"no\ninfluence on the thing known to make it necessary.\" He does not even\npretend that there is any _moral necessity_ shown to exist by this\nargument; and hence his conclusion has no connexion with the great\ndoctrine of the Inquiry, or the point in dispute. It aims at the word,\nbut not at the thing. The infallible connexion it shows to exist, is\nadmitted to be entirely different from the infallible connexion between\nmoral causes and volitions; that is to say, it is admitted that it does\nnot prove any thing to the purpose.\n\nBut is the indissoluble connexion, or necessity, established by this\nargument, at all inconsistent with human liberty? If it is not; and if\nour scheme of liberty is perfectly consistent and reconcilable with it;\nthen it infers nothing, and is nothing, that is opposed to what we hold.\n\nThis question admits of an easy solution. The foreknowledge of a future\nevent proves it to be necessary in precisely the same manner that the\nknowledge of a present event shows it to be necessary. This is conceded\nby Edwards. \"All certain knowledge,\" says he, \"whether it be\nforeknowledge, or after knowledge, or concomitant knowledge, proves the\nthing known now to be necessary, by some means or other; _or proves that\nit is impossible it should now be otherwise than true_,\" p. 121. And\nagain, \"All certain knowledge proves the necessity of the truth known;\nwhether it be _before_, or _after_, or _at the same time_,\" p. 124; and\nso in other places.\n\nIn what sense then, let us inquire, does the knowledge of a present\nevent prove it to be necessary? It is necessary, says Edwards, because\nit is indissolubly connected with the knowledge of it. In other words,\nit could not possibly be known to exist, unless it did exist; and hence,\nits existence is said to be indissolubly connected with the knowledge of\nits existence, or, in other words, it is said to be necessary. This is\nall true; but is this indissoluble connexion, or necessity, at all\ninconsistent with the contingency of the event known? _This is the\nquestion;_ and let us not lose sight of it in a mist of words. Let it be\ndistinctly borne in mind, and it will be easily settled.\n\nFor this purpose, let us suppose, to adopt the language of President\nEdwards, \"that nonentity is about to bring forth;\" and that an event\ncomes into being without any cause of its existence. This event then\nexists; it is seen, and it is known to exist. Now, even on this wild\nsupposition, there is an infallible and indissoluble connexion between\nthe existence of the event and the knowledge of it; and hence it is\nnecessary, in the sense above explained. But what has this necessary\nconnexion to do with the cause of its existence? This indissoluble\nconnexion, this dire necessity, is perfectly consistent, as we have\nseen, with the supposition that the event had no cause at all of its\nexistence. How can it conflict, then, with any scheme of free-agency\nthat ever was dreamed of by man?\n\nIf this argument proves any thing in regard to human actions, it only\nproves that a volition has an effect, and not that it has a cause.\nIndeed, it has been said, that the knowledge of an event is the effect\nof its existence; and the same remark has been extended to the\nforeknowledge of God with respect to the future volitions of human\nbeings. This position is not denied by Edwards; he considers, in fact,\nthat it strengthens, rather than weakens, his argument. \"Because it\nshows the existence of the event to be so settled and firm, that _it is\nas if it had already been;_ inasmuch as _in effect_ it actually exists\nalready;\" and much more to the same purpose, p.122-3. \"It is as strong\narguing,\" says he, \"from the effect to the cause, as from the cause to\nthe effect.\"\n\nThis is all true; it is as strong arguing from effect to cause, as it is\nfrom cause to effect. But do the arguments prove the same thing? Let us\nsee. I know a thing to exist; and therefore it does exist. This is to\nreason from effect to cause. The conclusion is inevitable; but what does\nit prove? Why, it proves that the thing does exist--it proves the bare\nfact of existence. The indissoluble connexion, or the necessity, in this\ncase, exists between the knowledge and the event known; and it has no\nrelation to the question how the event came to exist. This argument,\nthen, in regard to human volitions, only proves that they are\nindissolubly connected with their effects, and are necessarily implied\nby them; just as every cause is implied by its effects: but no\nlibertarian in the world has ever questioned such a position. For all\nthat such an argument proves, all the volitions of moral agents may come\ninto existence, without having the least shadow of reason or ground of\ntheir existence. We admit that volitions are efficient causes; and that\nthey have effects, with which they are indissolubly connected. Edwards\nundertook to show, that volitions are necessary, because they are\ninfallibly and indissolubly connected with their causes; and he has\nshown that they are necessary, because they are infallibly and\nindissolubly connected with their effects! This is one branch of his\ngreat argument.\n\nThere is another sense, in which the knowledge of an event, whether it\nbe _fore_, or _after_, or _concomitant_, knowledge, proves it to be\nnecessary. This sense is not clearly distinguished from the former by\nEdwards. He recognizes them both, however, although he blends them\ntogether, and frequently turns from the one to the other in the course\nof his argument. It is highly important, and affords no little\nsatisfaction, to keep them clearly distinct in our minds.\n\nA thing is said to be necessary, as we have seen, because it is\nconnected with the knowledge of it; and, if a thing does exist, or is\ncertainly and infallibly known to exist, it may be said to be necessary,\non the principle that it is impossible it should exist and not exist at\none and the same time. These two things are evidently different; and,\nfor the sake of distinctness in our language, as well as in our\nthoughts, I shall call the first a _logical_, and the last an\n_axiomatical_ necessity. A thing, then, which does exist, is said to be\nnecessary with an _axiomatical_ necessity; because it is impossible for\nit not to exist while it does exist: and it is said to be necessary,\nwith a _logical_ necessity, because it is indissolubly connected with\nthe knowledge of it. The former kind of necessity is frequently\npresented in this form of expression, that if a thing does exist, it is\nimpossible it should be otherwise than true that it does exist. In this\nform of expression, it is frequently resorted to by Edwards.\n\nThus, says he, \"I observed before, in explaining the nature of\nnecessity, that in things which are past, their past existence is now\n_necessary;_ having already made sure of existence, _it is now\nimpossible that it should be otherwise than true, that the thing has\nexisted_,\" p. 114-15. Just so we may say in relation to things which now\nexist; for, having already made sure of existence, it is impossible it\nshould be otherwise than true, that they do now exist; or, in other\nwords, it is impossible they should not exist while they do exist. In\nlike manner, if the future existence of any thing is foreknown, \"it is\nimpossible it should be otherwise than true,\" that it should exist, or\ncome to pass: that is to say, if it will exist, it will be impossible\nfor it not to exist at the time of its existence.\n\nForeknowledge, I admit, infers this kind of necessity; but is this any\nthing to the purpose? The conclusion is the same, whether it be deduced\nfrom foreknowledge, or concomitant knowledge. Let us suppose, then, for\nthe sake of clearness and convenience, that a thing is now known to\nexist. It follows from hence, by a _logical_ necessity, that it does\nexist; for it could not possibly be known to exist, unless it did exist.\nAnd, as it does exist, \"it is impossible that it should be otherwise\nthan true that it does exist;\" or, in other words, it is impossible for\nit not to exist now, while it does exist. This is all there is in this\npart of the argument.\n\nAnd what does it amount to? It is a simple declaration of what no body\never denied--that if a thing exists, or is to exist, or has existed, it\nis impossible to conceive of it as not existing at the time of its\nexistence. All this is perfectly true, without the least reference to\nthe question, how it came to exist, or how it will come to exist? It is\nwholly irrelevant to the point at issue. It controverts no position,\nheld by any sane man that now lives, or that ever has lived.\n\nIn other words, if a thing is known to exist, certainly and infallibly,\nthen it does exist; and if it does exist, then \"it is impossible it\nshould be otherwise than true\" that it does exist; and hence its\nexistence is said to be necessary with an _axiomatical_ necessity. But\nthis does not prove that it is _necessarily produced_. For, supposing it\nto exist, its existence would be necessary in the above sense, even if\nit had no cause of its existence. The necessity here referred to, is a\nnecessity _in the order of our ideas_, and not _in the course of\nevents_. It arises from the impossibility of a thing's not existing at\nthe time it does exist; and it has no reference whatever to the\ncausation of any thing: it is a fundamental law of belief, and not a\n_causal_ necessity. These three things, an _axiomatical_, a _logical_,\nand a _causal_ necessity, are most strangely confounded in the argument\nof President Edwards.\n\nWill it be said, that in this argument, it was not the object of\nEdwards, to prove that there is a moral necessity in regard to our\nvolitions; but only that they are \"not without all necessity?\" Suppose\nthis to be the case, with whom has he any controversy, or to what\npurpose has he argued? No one has ever held that human volitions are\n\"without all necessity,\" according to Edwards' use of that term; and no\none can hold it. No one can deny, that there is an indissoluble\nconnexion between the existence of a thing, and the certain and\ninfallible knowledge of its existence; or between the effect of a thing\nand the thing itself; or that it is impossible for a thing not to exist\nwhile it does exist. In these senses of the word, all rational creatures\nare bound to acknowledge that human volitions are necessary. The most\nstrenuous advocate of free-agency has not one word to say against them;\nand such being the meaning of Edwards, we must all heartily concur with\nhim, when he says, \"that there is no geometrical theorem or proposition\nwhatever more capable of _strict demonstration_, than that God's certain\nprescience of the volition of moral agents is inconsistent with such a\ncontingency of these events, _as is without all necessity_,\" p. 125-6.\n\nIf it can be truly said, that a thing is foreknown, it follows that it\nwill come to pass, or the proposition which affirms the future existence\nof it, is necessarily true. In other words, it is self-contradictory and\nabsurd, to assert that a thing is foreknown, and yet that it may not\ncome to pass; just as it is to assert that a thing is known to exist and\nyet at the same time does not exist. Hence, it is frequently alleged by\nEdwards, that to deny his conclusions, drawn from foreknowledge, is\nself-contradictory and absurd; unless we deny foreknowledge itself. To\nadmit this, says he, and yet contend that the thing foreknown may\npossibly not be, is to fall into a plain contradiction, and \"to suppose\nGod's foreknowledge to be inconsistent with itself,\" p. 117. Is it not\nstrange, that it did not occur to Edwards, that if to deny his position\nis to deny that God foreknows what he foreknows; then to affirm it, is\nonly to affirm that he foreknows what he foreknows? Indeed, all those\nreasonings in which he represents the denial of his position as\nself-contradictory and absurd, should have convinced him that he could\nprove nothing to the purpose, by arguing from the foreknowledge of God,\nor else he must assume the very thing in dispute, by taking it for\ngranted that it is future; or, which is the same thing in effect, that\nit is foreknown. For in admitting any premise, we admit, no more than is\ncontained in it; and if we only deny what is not contained in our\nadmission, we are not involved in a self-contradiction, or absurdity. In\nalleging that we have done this, therefore, in the present case;--in\nalleging that we contradict ourselves by admitting the foreknowledge of\nGod, and in denying necessity, he takes it for granted that the very\nthing in dispute is included in that foreknowledge. In other words, if\nEdwards does not mean to say, that the point in dispute is included in\nthe foreknowledge of God; then he cannot say, that we contradict\nourselves by admitting that divine prescience; and if he does mean to\nsay, that the thing which we deny is included in the foreknowledge of\nGod, then he begs the question.\n\nIt is freely conceded, that whatever God foreknows will most certainly\nand infallibly come to pass. He foresees all human volitions; and,\ntherefore, they will most certainly and infallibly come to pass, in some\nmanner or other: the bare fact of their future existence is clearly\nestablished by God's foreknowledge of them. And if all human volitions\nwill be brought to pass, by the operation of moral causes; then this\nmanner of their existence is foreknown to God, and will all come to pass\nin this way; but to take this for granted, is to beg the question. We\nhave just as much right to suppose, that God foreknows that the\nvolitions of moral agents are not necessitated, as the necessitarian has\nto suppose that He foreknows the contrary; and then it would follow that\nour volitions are necessarily free, or without any producing causes. If\nGod foreknows that our actions will come to pass in the way we call\nfreely, (and we have as much right to this supposition as our opponents\nhave to the contrary,) then, as foreknowledge infers necessity, our\nactions are necessarily free. And surely, if the necessity which is\ninferred from foreknowledge, is predicable of freedom itself, it cannot\nbe inconsistent with it.\n\nIn other words, if the necessity of human volitions, according to the\nscheme of Edwards, be a fact, then it was foreknown to God that such is\nthe fact; and, if we please, we may infer the fact from his\nforeknowledge, after having inferred his foreknowledge from the fact. On\nthe other hand, if the scheme of necessity be a mere hypothesis, having\nno corresponding reality in the universe; then God never foreknew that\nit is according to such scheme that all human actions are brought to\npass; unless he foreknew things to be necessitated which in reality are\nnot necessitated. Hence, we can prove nothing by reasoning from the\nforeknowledge of God; except what we first assume to be true, and\nconsequently foreknown to Him; and, if we choose to resort to this\npitiful way of begging the question, we may prove our hypothesis just as\nwell as any other.\n\nThe foreknowledge of an event, as I have already said, proves nothing\nmore nor less than _the bare certainty_ of its future existence; it\ndecides nothing as _to the manner_ of its coming into existence. The\nnecessitarian may ring the changes upon this subject as long as he\npleases, and all he can possibly make out of it is, that if God\nforeknows a thing, it will certainly be, and to suppose otherwise, is a\ncontradiction. Thus, says Edwards, \"To suppose the future volitions of\nmoral agents not to be necessary events; or, which is the same thing,\nevents which it is not possible but that they may come to pass; and yet\nto suppose that God certainly foreknows them, and knows all things, is\nto suppose God's knowledge to be inconsistent with itself. For to say\nthat God certainly, and without all conjecture, knows that a thing will\ninfallibly be, which at the same time he knows to be so _contingent_\nthat it may possibly not be, is to suppose his knowledge inconsistent\nwith itself; or that one thing he knows is utterly inconsistent with\nanother thing he knows. It is the same as to say, he now knows a\nproposition to be of certain infallible truth, which he knows to be of\ncontingent uncertain truth. If a future volition is so without all\nnecessity, that nothing hinders but it may not be, then the proposition\nwhich asserts its future existence is so uncertain, that nothing hinders\nbut that the truth of it may entirely fail. And if God knows all things,\nhe knows this proposition to be thus uncertain; and that is inconsistent\nwith his knowing it to be infallibly true; and so inconsistent with his\nknowing that it is true.\" p. 117. Now all this going around and around\namounts to just this, that if God certainly and infallibly foreknows a\nthing, he certainly and infallibly foreknows it, or that if it will\ncertainly come to pass, it will certainly come to pass.\n\nWe admit that the certainty of all future events is implied in God's\nforeknowledge of them. Does the argument in question prove any more than\nthe bare fact of the certainty of the events foreknown? The argument, so\nfar as we have yet followed it, clearly does not. It merely proves the\nbare fact of the certainty of existence. Indeed, Edwards himself says,\nthat \"metaphysical or philosophical necessity,\" (and this is the\nnecessity for which he here contends,) \"is nothing different from their\ncertainty.\" p. 23. And the younger Edwards frequently says, \"If a\nproposition asserting some future event, be a real and absolute truth,\nthere is an absolute certainty of the event; _such absolute certainty is\nall that is implied in the divine foreknowledge; and all the moral\nnecessity for which we plead_.\" p. 160. Now, if these writers merely\nmean that a thing is certain, when they say it is necessary, it is to be\nregretted that they did not use the right word. It would have saved\ntheir works from no little confusion.\n\nBut the truth is, that the moral necessity for which they contend\nconsists sometimes in the certainty of an event, and sometimes in _the\nground_ of that certainty. Volitions are said to be morally necessitory\nin their definition, and in their system, because they are _made certain\nby the influence of moral causes_. But in their arguments, and the\ndefence of their system, _the bare absolute certainty_, without any\nreference to the ground of it, is frequently all that is meant by moral\nnecessity. Thus, they build upon one idea of necessity, while they\nattack and defend themselves upon another idea thereof.\n\nThis is our present starting point then, agreed upon by all sides, that\nthe foreknowledge of God infers the certainty of all future realities.\nNow, how can we conclude from hence, that the volitions of moral agents\nare, not only certain, but rendered certain by the influence of moral\ncauses? It may be said, that it is sufficient that the foreknowledge of\nGod proves that human volitions will certainly come to pass in some way\nor other; for if they will certainly come to pass in any way, we know\nthat they must have some cause of their existence; and it is just as\nabsurd to suppose that a volition can come into being without any cause\nof its existence, as it is to suppose that a world can come into being\nof itself. If this ground should be taken, (and it certainly will be,)\nthe reply is obvious. It would show that the divine prescience can only\nprove the certainty of future events while it is left to the old maxim,\nthat every effect must have a cause, in order to make out the doctrine\nof moral necessity, or the point in dispute! It would show, that after\nall the parade made with the divine prescience, it leaves the whole\nargument to rest upon ground which has already been occupied by one\nside, and fully considered by the other! It would only show, that a\ngreat pretence of demonstration had been made from the foreknowledge of\nGod; whereas, in fact, it proves nothing to the purpose, unless \"its\nmost impotent and lame conclusion\" be helped out by something else!\n\nAnother attempt is made to link the conclusion drawn from the\nforeknowledge of God, with the point to be established by the\nnecessitarian. It is said, that God could not foreknow all future\nevents, unless he views them as connected with known causes. This ground\nis taken by many eminent necessitarians. Thus, says Dr. John Dick,\n\"Future events cannot be foreseen, unless they are certain; they cannot\nbe certain, unless God have determined to bring them to pass.\"\n\nThe same position is assumed by President Edwards, \"There must be a\ncertainty in things themselves,\" says he, \"before they are certainly\nforeknown.\" . . . \"There must be a certainty in things to be a ground of\ncertainty of knowledge, and render things capable of being known to be\ncertain.\" p. 122. Now, what is this certainty in things themselves, or\nin human volitions, without which they are incapable of being foreknown?\nThe answer is obvious; for Edwards every where contends, that unless\nvolitions are brought to pass by the _influence_ of moral causes--that\nunless they are necessarily produced by an \"effectual power and\nefficacy\"--they are altogether uncertain and contingent, and connected\nwith nothing that can render them certain. Hence, he clearly maintains,\nthat unless human volitions are necessarily brought to pass by the\ninfluence of motives, they are not certain in themselves, and hence are\nincapable of being foreknown. And besides, he has a laboured argument to\nprove, that God could not foreknow the future volitions of moral agents,\nunless he views them as \"necessarily connected with something else that\nis evident.\" pp. 115-117. This something else is not foreknowledge\nitself; for it is the ground of foreknowledge, it is the necessary\ninfluence of motives, or moral causes. But we need not dwell upon this\npoint, as this is so evidently his meaning; and if it is not, then it is\nnothing to the purpose.\n\nIf Edwards means that a thing cannot be foreknown unless it has a\nsufficient ground and reason for its existence, and does not of itself\ncome forth out of nothing, we are not at all concerned to deny his\nposition. Every advocate of free-agency contends, that volition proceeds\nfrom the mind, acting in view of motives; and therefore is not destitute\nof a sufficient ground and reason of its existence. He denies that\nvolition is necessarily brought to pass by the operation of motives.\nHence, if Edwards merely means that God could not foreknow a human\nvolition, unless he foreknew all the circumstances in view of the mind\nwhen it is to act, as well as the nature and all the circumstances of\nthe mind from which the act is to proceed; no advocate of free-agency is\nat all concerned to deny his position. It may be true, or it may be\nfalse; but it establishes nothing which may not be consistently admitted\nby the advocates of free-agency. If he means any thing to the purpose,\nhe must mean, that God could not foresee human volitions, unless they\nare necessarily connected with causes, according to his scheme of moral\nnecessity; that is, unless they are necessarily produced by \"the action\nor influence\" of motives, or moral causes. If this is his meaning, then\nindeed it is something to the purpose; but what unbounded presumption is\nit, on the part of a poor blind worm of the dust, thus to set bounds and\nlimits to the modes of knowledge possesssd by an infinite, all-knowing\nGod! It is true, that \"no understanding, created or uncreated, can see\nevidence where there is none\"; but what kind of evidence that is, by\nwhich all things are rendered perfectly clear to the eye of Omniscience,\nit is surely not for us to determine. That all things are known to God,\nis freely admitted; but that they can be known, only by reason of their\nresulting from the necessitating influence of known causes, which are\nthemselves necessitated, is more than any finite mind should presume to\naffirm. It were, indeed, to make our shallow, limited, and feeble\nintellects, the measure of all possible modes of knowledge. It were to\nmake God like one of ourselves. Yet this position the necessitarian has\nbeen compelled to assume. After all his pretended demonstrations from\nthe foreknowledge of God, his argument can reach the point in dispute,\nonly by means of this tremendous flight of presumption.\n\nLet the necessitarian show, that God cannot foresee future events,\nunless he \"have determined to bring them to pass,\" or unless they are\nbrought to pass by a chain of producing causes, ultimately connected\nwith his own will; and he will prove something to the purpose. But let\nhim not talk so boastfully about demonstrations, while there is this\nexceedingly weak link in the chain of his argument. If God were so like\none of ourselves, that he could not foresee future volitions, unless\nthey are brought to pass by the operation of known causes; then, I\nadmit, that his foreknowledge would infer the moral necessity for which\nEdwards contends, provided he really possesses that knowledge; but if he\nwere so imperfect a being, I should be compelled to believe, that there\nare some things which he could not foreknow.\n\nThis assumption comes with a peculiarly ill grace from the\nnecessitarian. He should be the last man to contend, that God cannot\nforesee future events unless they are involved in known producing\ncauses; just as all that we know of the future is ascertained by\nreasoning from known causes to effects. For he contends that with God,\n\"there is no time\"; but that to His view all things are seen as if they\nwere present. His knowledge is without succession, and there is no\nbefore nor after with him; all things are intimately present to his mind\nfrom all eternity. Such is the doctrine of both the Edwardses; and Dr.\nDick believes, that \"God sees all things at a glance.\"\n\nNow, present things are not known to exist, because they are implied by\nknown causes, but because they are present and seen. And hence, if God\nsees all things as present, there is not the shadow of a foundation\nwhereon to rest the proof of \"moral necessity\" from his foreknowledge.\nIt is all taken away by their own doctrine, and their argument is left\nwithout the least support from it.\n\nIndeed, there is no need of lugging the foreknowledge of God into the\npresent controversy, except it be to deceive the mind. For all future\nevents will certainly and infallibly come to pass, whether they are\nforeknown or not; and foreknowledge cannot make the matter any more\ncertain than it is without it. We may say that God foreknows all things,\nand we may mix this up with all possible propositions; but this will\nnever help the conclusion, that \"all future things will certainly and\ninfallibly come to pass.\" If God should cease to foreknow all future\nvolitions, or if he had never foreknown them, they would, nevertheless,\njust as certainly and infallibly come to pass, as if he had foreknown\nthem from all eternity. The bare naked fact, that they are future infers\nall that is implied in God's foreknowledge of them; and it is just as\nmuch a contradiction in terms, to say that what is future will not come\nto pass, as it is to say, that what God foreknows will never take place.\nHence, by bringing in the prescience of Deity, we do not really\nstrengthen or add to the conclusion in favour of necessity. It only\nfurnishes a very convenient and plausible method of begging the\nquestion, or of seeming to prove something by hiding our sophisms in the\nblaze of the divine attributes. It only serves as a veil, behind which\nis concealed those sophistical tricks, by which both the performer and\nthe spectator are deceived. This whole argument from the foreknowledge\nof God, is, indeed, a grand specimen of undesigned metaphysical\njugglery, by which the mind is called off in one direction, whilst it is\ndeceived, perplexed, and confounded, by not seeing what takes place in\nanother.\n\nIt appears from these things, that those persons who have endeavoured to\nclear up this matter, by supposing that some things are not foreknown to\nGod; have only got rid of one of the divine attributes, and not of their\ndifficulty. It appears also, that Edwards might have made his argument\nfar more simple and direct, by leaving out the long section in which he\nproves that God really foreknows all _future_ things; and confining\nhimself to the simple proposition, \"that all future events will\ncertainly and infallibly come to pass;\" that \"it is a contradiction in\nterms to say that a thing is future and yet that it will not come to\npass\"; or, in other words, \"if a thing is future, _it is impossible it\nshould be otherwise than true_,\" that it will come to pass. And how\nunreasonable are those, who have imagined that we are free-agents,\nbecause God has chosen not to foresee our free actions; as if the\nsupposition that he might have foreseen them, does not infer necessity\njust as much as the fact that he does foresee them. Indeed, these\nreasoners seem to have expected to see one truth, by shutting their eyes\nupon another!\n\nMr. Hobbes has an argument to prove necessity, precisely like that of\nEdwards, except that its nakedness is not covered up with the\nforeknowledge of God. \"Let the case be put,\" says he, \"of the weather:\n'tis necessary that to-morrow it shall rain or not rain. If, therefore,\nit be not necessary that it shall rain, it is necessary it shall not\nrain; otherwise there is no necessity that the proposition, it shall\nrain or not rain, should be true.\" This sophism confounds the\n_axiomatical necessity_ referred to in the premise, that it must rain or\nnot rain, with the _causal necessity_ intended to be deduced from it in\nthe conclusion. This poor sophism has been adopted by Mr. Locke, and\nseriously employed to prove that human volitions \"cannot be free.\" Thus,\nsays he, \"It is unavoidably necessary to prefer the doing or forbearance\nof an action in a man's power, which is once proposed to a man's\nthoughts. The act of volition or preferring one of the two, being that,\nwhich he cannot avoid, a man in respect of that act of willing is under\nnecessity.\" Here we have precisely the same confusion of an\n_axiomatical_ with a _causal_ necessity, that occurs in the argument of\nMr. Hobbes. And yet, the younger Edwards has deemed this argument of Mr.\nLocke as worthy of his special notice and commendation; and President\nDay falls in with the same idea, alleging that \"we will because we\ncannot avoid willing,\" because we must either choose or refuse. Is it\nnot wonderful, that these philosophers should have imagined, that they\nhad any controversy with any one, in contending so manfully that the\nmind, under certain circumstances, must either choose or refuse? or that\nthey could infer any thing from this, in favour of a causal\nnecessity--the only question in dispute? With what clearness! with what\nforce! would President Edwards have dashed this poor flimsy sophism into\na thousand atoms, if he had come across it in the atheism of Hobbes!\nBut, unfortunately, he came across it in a different direction; and\nhence, he has rescued it from the loathsome dunghill of atheistical\ntrash, invested it with dignity, seeming to clothe it in the solemn\nsanction of religion, by covering it up in the ample folds of the divine\nOmniscience.\n\nThis, then, is the conclusion of the whole matter. The prescience of God\ndoes not _make_ our volitions necessary; it only _proves_ them to be\ncertain. This is conceded by Edwards. It proves them to be certain, just\nas present knowledge proves them to be certain. This also is admitted by\nEdwards. But present knowledge proves an act of the mind to be certain,\nbecause it is infallibly connected with that knowledge, and not because\nit is necessitated by the influence of a cause. It proves it to be\ncertain, because it is impossible for a volition, or any thing else, not\nto exist at the time of its existence, and not because it is impossible\nfor it to come to pass without being necessitated. In short, it proves\nan _axiomatical_ and a _logical_ necessity, but not a _causal_\nnecessity; that is to say, it proves nothing to the point in dispute.\n\nThe necessitarian can connect his conclusion with the thing he has\nundertaken to prove, in only one of two ways: he may say, that if an\nevent is certain, it cannot come into existence without a producing\ncause; or he may allege, that God cannot foresee them, unless he is\ndetermined to bring them to pass. If he takes the former position, he\nreally discards the argument from foreknowledge, and returns for support\nto the old argument, that every effect must have a cause. And if he\nassumes the latter, maintaining that God cannot foreknow future events\nunless he reasons from producing causes to effects, he builds his\nargument, not upon foreknowledge alone, but upon this in connection with\na most unwarrantable flight of presumption, without which the argument\nfrom prescience is good for nothing.\n\nAnd besides, the bringing in of the divine prescience, only serves to\nblind, and not to illuminate. For God foreknows only what is future; and\nall future things will come to pass just as infallibly, without being\nforeknown, as they will with it. If we assume them to be future, it is\njust as much a contradiction to deny that they will come to pass; as it\nis to assume that they are foreknown and yet deny it. Nothing can be\nproved in this way, except what is assumed or taken for granted; and the\nforeknowledge of God is only a plausible way of begging the question, or\nconcealing a sophism.\n\nIn conclusion, the necessitarian takes the wrong course in his\ninquiries, and lays his premises in the dark. To illustrate this\npoint:--I know that I act; and hence, I conclude that God foreknew that\nI would act. And again, I know that my act is not necessitated, that it\ndoes necessarily proceed from the action, or influence of causes; and\nhence, I conclude that God foreknew that I would thus act freely, in\nprecisely this manner, and not otherwise. Thus, I reason from what I\nknow to what I do not know, from my knowledge of the actual world as it\nis, up to God's foreknowledge respecting it.\n\nThe necessitarian pursues the opposite course. He reasons from what he\ndoes not know, that is, from the particulars of the divine\nforeknowledge, about which he absolutely knows nothing _a priori_, down\nto the facts of the actual world. Thus, quitting the light which shines\nso brightly within us and around us, he seeks for light in the midst of\nimpenetrable darkness. He endeavours to determine the phenomena of the\nworld, not by looking at them and seeing what they are; but by deducing\nconclusions from God's infinite foreknowledge respecting them!\n\nIn doing this, a grand illusion is practised, by his merely supposing\nthat the volitions themselves are foreknown, without taking into the\nsupposition the whole of the case, and recollecting that God not only\nforesees all our actions, but also all about them. For if this were\ndone, if it were remembered that He not only foresees that our volitions\nwill come to pass, but also _how_ they will come to pass; the\nnecessitarian would see, that nothing could be proved in this way except\nwhat is first tacitly assumed. The grand illusion would vanish, and it\nwould be clearly seen, that if the argument from foreknowledge proves\nany thing, it just as well proves the _necessity of freedom_ as any\nthing else.\n\nIndeed, it does seem to me, that it is one of the most wonderful\nphenomena in the history of the human mind, that, in reasoning about\nfacts in relation to which the most direct and palpable sources of\nevidence are open before us, so many of its brightest ornaments should\nso long have endeavoured to draw conclusions from \"the dark unknown\" of\nGod's foreknowledge; without perceiving that this is to reject the true\nmethod, to invert the true order of inquiry, and to involve the inquirer\nin all the darkness and confusion inseparable therefrom: without\nperceiving that no powers, however great, that no genius, however\nexalted, can possibly extort from such a method any thing but the dark,\nand confused, and perplexing exhibitions of an ingenious logomachy.\n\n\n\nSECTION XII.\n\nOF EDWARDS' USE OF THE TERM NECESSITY.\n\nIN the controversy concerning the will, nothing is of more importance,\nit will readily be admitted, than to guard against the influence of the\nambiguity of words. Yet, it may be shown, that President Edwards has\nused the principal terms in this controversy in an exceedingly loose and\nindeterminate manner. This he has done especially in regard to the term\n_necessity_. His very definition prepares the way for such an abuse of\nlanguage.\n\n\"_Philosophical necessity_,\" says he, \"is really nothing else than the\nFULL AND FIXED CONNEXION BETWEEN THE THINGS SIGNIFIED BY THE SUBJECT AND\nPREDICATE OF A PROPOSITION, which affirms something to be true. When\nthere is such a connexion, then the thing affirmed in the proposition is\nnecessary, in a philosophical sense, whether any opposition or contrary\neffort be supposed or no. When the subject and predicate of the\nproposition, which affirms the existence of any thing, either substance,\nquality, act, or circumstance, have a full and CERTAIN CONNEXION, then\nthe existence or being of that thing is said to be _necessary_ in a\nmetaphysical sense. And in this sense I use the word _Necessity_, in the\nfollowing discourse, when I endeavour to prove _that Necessity is not\ninconsistent with Liberty_.\"\n\n\"The subject and predicate of a proposition, which affirms existence of\nsomething, may have a full, fixed, and certain connexion several ways.\"\n\n\"1. They may have a full and perfect connexion _in and of themselves;_\nbecause it may imply a contradiction, or gross absurdity, to suppose\nthem not connected. Thus many things are necessary in their own nature.\nSo the eternal existence of being, generally considered, is necessary\n_in itself;_ because it would be in itself the greatest absurdity, to\ndeny the existence of being in general, or to say there was absolute and\nuniversal nothing; and as it were the sum of all contradictions; as\nmight be shown, if this were the proper place for it. So God's infinity,\nand other attributes are necessary. So it is necessary _in its own\nnature_, that two and two should be four; and it is necessary, that all\nright lines drawn from the centre to the circumference should be equal.\nIt is necessary, fit, and suitable, that men should do to others, as\nthey would that they should do to them. So innumerable metaphysical and\nmathematical truths are necessary _in themselves_; the subject and\npredicate of the proposition which affirms them, are perfectly connected\nof _themselves_.\"\n\n\"2. The connexion of the subject and predicate of a proposition, which\naffirms the existence of something, may be fixed and made certain,\nbecause the existence of that thing is _already_ come to pass; and\neither now is, or has been; and so has, as it were, made sure of\nexistence. And therefore, the proposition which affirms present or past\nexistence of it, may by this means, be made certain, and necessarily and\nunalterably true; the past event has fixed and decided the matter, as to\nits existence; and has made it impossible but that existence should be\ntruly predicated of it. Thus the existence of whatever is already come\nto pass, is now become necessary; it is become impossible it should be\notherwise than true, that such a thing has been.\"\n\n\"3. The subject and predicate of a proposition which affirms something\nto be, may have a real and certain connexion _consequentially_; and so\nthe existence of the thing may be consequentially necessary, as it may\nbe surely and firmly connected with something else, that is necessary in\none of the former respects. As it is either fully and thoroughly\nconnected with that which is absolutely necessary in its own nature; or\nwith something which has already made sure of its existence. This\nnecessity lies _in_, and may be explained _by_, the connexion between\ntwo or more propositions, one with another. Things which are _perfectly\nconnected_ with other things that are necessary, are necessary\nthemselves, by a necessity of consequence.\"\n\nAfter having defined what he means by philosophical or metaphysical\nnecessity, he tells us, that this is the sense in which he uses the\nword, when he endeavours to show that necessity is not inconsistent with\nliberty. And yet under \"this sense,\" how many totally distinct ideas are\nembraced! The eternal existence of being in general; the attributes of\nGod; the proposition that two and two are four; the equality of the\nradii of a circle; the moral duty that we should do as we would be done\nby; the existence of a thing which has already come to pass; the\nexistence of things, that are connected with that which is absolutely\nnecessary in itself, or with something that has already made sure of its\nexistence; the connexion of two or more propositions with each\nother--all these things are included in his definition of philosophical\nnecessity! And yet he tells us, that he uses the term in this sense (in\nwhat sense?) when he undertakes to reconcile liberty with necessity!\nWhen he says, that he employs the word in _this_ sense, one would\nsuppose that, as a great metaphysician, he referred to some one of its\nprecise and definite significations; but no such thing. He merely refers\nto its philosophical sense, which, according to his own explanation,\nembraces a multitude of different ideas. Hence, although he may keep\nclose to this philosophical sense of the word, \"in the ensuing\ndiscourse;\" yet he may, before the discourse is concluded, shift his\nposition a thousand times from one of these ideas to another. And he may\nalways seem, to superficial observers, to speak of the same thing;\nbecause although the things spoken of are really different, they are all\ndrawn together under one definition, and called by one name. He not only\nmay have done this; he actually has done it. And if he had formed the\nexpress design to envelope the whole subject in a cloud of sophistry, he\ncould not have taken a better course to accomplish his object.\n\nIt was the design of the Inquiry to establish the doctrine of moral\nnecessity; and hence it was incumbent on President Edwards to reconcile\nthis kind of necessity, and not philosophical necessity, with the\nfree-agency of man. He contends that there is a necessary connexion\nbetween the influence of motives and volitions. This he calls moral\nnecessity. It differs from natural necessity, says he, it differs from\nthe necessary connexion between cause and effect; but yet, he expressly\ntells us, that this difference \"does not lie so much _in the nature of\nthe connexion_, as in the _terms connected_.\" In both cases, he\nmaintains, the connexion is necessary and absolute. The two terms\nconnected are different; but the kind and nature of the connexion is the\nsame. This is the kind of necessity for which he pleads; and we can\nnever be satisfied with his scheme, until the term shall be used in this\nprecise and definite sense, and the doctrine it expresses shall be shown\nto be consistent with the true idea and feeling of liberty in the human\nbreast. It will not, it cannot satisfy the mind, that any other kind of\nnecessity is reconcilable with liberty; while it remains to be shown\nthat moral necessity, as it is defined and explained in the Inquiry, is\nconsistent with the free-agency of man.\n\nThere is one sense of the term in question, says he, \"which especially\nbelongs to the controversy about acts of the will,\" p. 30. It is what he\ncalls \"a necessity of consequence.\" This would be very true, if he\nmerely meant by a necessity of consequence, to refer to the necessary\nconnexion between cause and effect. But this is not his meaning; for he\nexpressly says, that \"a necessity of consequence\" \"lies _in_, and may be\nexplained _by_, the connexion of two or more propositions one with\nanother.\" Now what has the connexion between any two or all the\npropositions in the universe, to do with the controversy about acts of\nthe will? Is it not evident, that it is the connexion which subsists\nbetween effects and their producing causes, and which is supposed to\nsubsist between motives and actions, that has to do with the controversy\nin question; and that the connexion which subsists between two or more\npropositions is entirely foreign to the subject?\n\nIt may be said, that by \"a necessity of consequence,\" Edwards referred\nnot only to the connexion between two or more propositions, but also to\nthe connexion between cause and effect. This is undoubtedly true; for he\nspeaks of effects as coming to pass by this kind of necessity. But then\nit is to be lamented that two ideas, which are so perfectly distinct,\nshould have been couched under the same mode of expression, and treated\nas if they were identically the same. Such a confounding of different\nideas, has led to no little confusion and error in the reasoning of\nPresident Edwards.\n\nThe subject of the last section furnishes a striking illustration of the\njustness of this remark. From the proposition that a volition is\ncertainly and infallibly foreknown, it follows, by a necessity of\nconsequence, that it will come to pass. This is an instance of the\nnecessary connexion between two ideas or propositions; between the idea\nor proposition, that a certain volition is foreknown, and the idea that\nit will come to pass; between the proposition which affirms that, it is\nforeknown, and the idea that it will come to pass in other words, the\nproposition which affirms that it is foreknown, necessarily assumes that\nit will come to pass; and to deny this assumption, at the same time that\nwe make it, is surely to be guilty of a contradiction in terms. To\nsuppose that a volition will not come to pass, is inconsistent with the\nproposition that it is certainly and infallibly foreknown. Edwards\nhimself has frequently declared that this is the kind of necessity which\nis inferred from foreknowledge.\n\nIn truth, the necessary connexion which exists between the idea that a\nthing is foreknown, and the truth of the proposition which predicates\nfuture existence of it, is perfectly distinct from the necessary\nconnexion between cause and effect. They are as widely different, as the\nconnexion between any two propositions in Euclid is from the connexion\nbetween the motion of a ball and the force by which it is put in motion.\nHence, the kind of necessity which is involved in the idea of\nforeknowledge, has nothing to do with the controversy about acts of the\nwill.\n\nThere is, in like manner, a necessary connexion between the idea that a\nvolition is now certainly and infallibly known to exist, and the truth\nof the proposition which affirms present existence of it; and hence, its\npresent existence is necessary, by \"a necessity of consequence,\"\naccording to the definition of President Edwards. But all this has no\nrelevancy to the question, as to _how_ that volition came to pass. Its\npresent existence is necessarily connected with the idea that it is\ncertainly known to exist; but this is \"a necessity of consequence\" which\n\"lies in, and may be explained by, the connexion between two or more\npropositions.\" It is not \"a necessity of consequence\" that lies _in_, or\ncan be explained _by_, the connexion between cause and effect. The two\nthings are entirely different, and it is strange, that they should\nalways have been confounded by President Edwards. I do most certainly\nand infallibly know, for example, that I am now _willing_ to write; and\nfrom this knowledge, it necessarily follows, that I am now _willing_ to\nwrite. But if any one should infer from hence, that I am necessitated to\nwrite, by the operation of some cause, we should certainly think his\ninference very badly drawn. Yet this is precisely the way in which the\nnecessitarian proceeds, when he infers the necessity of human actions\nfrom the foreknowledge of God. He confounds the necessary connexion\nbetween two propositions, with the necessary connexion between cause and\neffect. This single ambiguity has been a mighty instrument in the\nbuilding up of that portentous scheme of necessity, which has seemed to\novershadow the glory and beauty of man's nature as a free and\naccountable being.\n\nThis is not the only ambiguity of the term in question which has been\nturned to account by the necessitarian. In opposition to the scheme of\nmoral necessity, or the necessary connexion between volitions and the\ninfluence of motives, it has been said, that volitions are produced\nneither by motives, nor by preceding acts of choice. This is a direct\ndenial of the doctrine of moral necessity, of the only thing which we\nare at all concerned to deny. We may thus attempt to escape from the\nthing, but the name still pursues us.\n\nFor, to this view of the subject, President Edwards replies as follows:\n\"If any shall see cause to deny this, and say they hold no such thing as\nthat every action is chosen or determined by a foregoing choice; but\nthat the very first exertion of will only, undetermined by any preceding\nact, is properly called action; then I say, such a man's notion of\naction implies necessity; for what the mind is the subject of, without\nthe determination of its own previous choice, it is the subject of\nnecessarily, as to any hand that free choice has in the affair; and\nwithout any ability the mind has to prevent it, by any will or election\nof its own; because by the supposition it precludes all previous acts of\nthe will or choice in the case, which might prevent it. So that it is\nagain, in this other way, implied in the notion of an act, that, it is\nboth necessary and not necessary,\" p. 199. It is in this manner, that\nPresident Edwards disposes of this important view of the subject of\nfree-agency. Let us examine his logic.\n\nIn the first place, the argument is not sound. It proceeds on the\nsupposition, that unless a volition is produced, it cannot be prevented,\nby a preceding act of volition. This is a false supposition. I choose,\nfor example, to go out at one of the doors of my room. This choice is\nnot produced by any preceding act of choice. And yet I can certainly\nprevent it, by choosing to go out at the other door of the room, or by\nchoosing to sit still. Thus one act of choice may, from the very nature\nof things, necessarily exclude or prevent another act of choice;\nalthough it could not possibly have produced that other act of choice.\n\nBut suppose the argument to be sound, what does it prove? It proves our\nactions to be necessary; but in what sense? Does it show them to be\nsubject to that moral necessity, for which Edwards contends, and against\nwhich we protest? This is the question, let me repeat, which we have\nundertaken to discuss; and if we would not wander in an eternal maze of\nwords, we must keep to it; it is the talisman which is to conduct us out\nof all our difficulties and perplexities. It is the first point, and the\nsecond point, and the third point in logic, to keep to the issue,\nsteadily, constantly, and without the least shadow of turning. Otherwise\nwe shall lose ourselves in a labyrinth of words, in darkness and\nconfusion interminable.\n\nIn what sense, then, does the above argument, supposing it to be sound,\nprove our actions to be necessary? Does it prove them to be necessary\nwith a moral necessity? It does not. According to the argument in\nquestion, volitions are necessary, \"_as to any hand free choice has in\nthe affair;_ because _by the supposition_ it precludes all previous acts\nof the will or choice in the case, _which might prevent them_.\" That is\nto say, volitions are necessary as to previous acts of choice; because\n_by the supposition_ previous acts of choice do not produce them, and\nconsequently cannot prevent them. This is the argument.\n\nNow, it is very true, that this is not an unheard of use of the term in\nquestion. We say a thing is necessary, when it is dependent upon no\ncause for its existence. Thus the existence of the Supreme Being is said\nto be necessary, because he is the uncaused Cause of all things. As he\nowes his existence to nothing, so there is nothing capable of destroying\nit. He is independent of all causes; and hence, his existence is said to\nbe necessary.\n\nIn like manner, a thing may be said to be necessary as to any other\nparticular thing, upon which it does not depend for its existence. As\nthe Supreme Being is said to be necessary as to all things, because his\nexistence depends upon nothing; so any created object may be said to be\nnecessary, as to the influence of any other object, to which it does not\nowe its existence, and upon which its existence does not depend. It is\nin this sense that our volitions are shown to be necessary by the above\nargument of President Edwards. A volition \"is necessary as to any hand\nfree choice has in the affair; because by the supposition it preclude\nall previous acts of the will or choice in the case, which might prevent\nit.\" That is to say, it is necessary as to preceding acts of choice;\nbecause, by the supposition, it is wholly independent of preceding acts\nof choice for its existence.\n\nNow, in so far as the doctrine of moral necessity is concerned, this\nargument amounts to just exactly nothing. For although a volition may be\nnecessary as to one particular cause, in consequence of its being wholly\nindependent of that cause; it does not follow that it is necessarily\nproduced by another cause. Because it does not result from any preceding\nact of volition, and consequently is necessary as to any hand that\npreceding act of volition had in the affair, it does not follow, that\nthe \"strongest motive\" produces it. Supposing a volition to be\nindependent of all causes, as well as of preceding acts of choice; and\nthen it would be necessary, in the same sense, as to all causes, as well\nas to preceding acts of choice. But how infinitely absurd would it be to\nconclude, that because a volition is independent of the influence of all\ncauses, it is therefore necessarily connected with the influence of a\nparticular cause!\n\nWe only deny that volitions are necessarily connected with the \"power,\"\nor \"influence,\" or \"action,\" of motives or moral causes. This is the\nonly kind of necessity against which, as the advocates of free-agency,\nwe are at all concerned to contend. And it is worse than idle for the\nnecessitarian to endeavour to establish any other kind of necessity\nbeside this. Let him come directly to the point, and _keep to it_, if he\nwould hope to accomplish any thing. This shifting backwards and forwards\nfrom one meaning of an ambiguous term to another; this showing a\nvolition to be necessary in one sense, and then tacitly assuming it to\nbe necessary in another sense; is not the way to silence and refute the\nadversaries of the doctrine of moral necessity. It may show, (supposing\nthe argument to be sound,) that a volition is necessary as to a\nparticular cause, on the supposition that it is not produced by that\ncause; and in the same manner, it might be shown, that a volition is\nnecessary as to all causes, on the supposition that it is produced by no\ncause. But the necessity which results from such a supposition, would be\ndirectly arrayed against the necessity for which President Edwards\ncontends. In the same sense, volitions \"are necessary as to any hand\nmotives have in the affair,\" on the supposition that they do not result\nfrom the influence of motives; but instead of building on this kind of\nnecessity, one would have supposed that President Edwards was somewhat\nconcerned in its destruction.\n\nIn short, the case stands thus: a thing is said to be necessary, on the\nsupposition that it has _no cause_ of its existence; or necessary as to\nanother thing, on the supposition that it does not depend on that other\nthing for its existence. Again, a thing is said to be necessary, on the\nsupposition that it proceeds from the operation of _a cause_. These\nideas are perfectly distinct. The difference between them is as clear as\nnoonday. It is true, they have the same name; but to reason from the one\nto the other, is about as wild an abuse of language as could be made.\nPresident Edwards is required to show that a volition is necessary, in\nthe sense of _its having a moral cause;_ he has shown that it is\nnecessary in the sense of _its not having a cause_. This is his\nargument.\n\nLet us view this subject in another light. If we say that a volition\nproceeds from a prior act of choice, we certainly hold the doctrine of\nnecessity. President Edwards speaks out from the Inquiry and convicts us\nof this doctrine. \"Their notion of, action,\" says he, \"implies\nnecessity, and supposes that it is necessary, and cannot be contingent.\nFor they suppose, that whatever is properly called action, must be\ndetermined by the will and free choice; and this is as much as to say,\nthat it must be necessary, being dependent upon, and determined by\nsomething foregoing; namely, a foregoing act of choice,\" p. 199. Thus,\nif we say that a volition is produced by a preceding act of volition, we\nare clearly convicted of the doctrine of necessity.\n\nNow let us endeavour to escape from this accusation. For this purpose,\nlet us assume the directly opposite position: let us deny that our\nvolitions are produced by preceding acts of choice--and what then? Are\nwe out of danger? Far from it. We are still convicted of the dreaded\ndoctrine of necessity. On the very supposition we have made,\ndiametrically opposite as it is to the former, we are still convicted of\nthe same doctrine of necessity. We cannot escape from it. It pursues us,\nlike a ghost, through the dark and ill-defined shadows of an ambiguous\nphraseology, and lays its cold hand upon us. Turn wheresoever we may, it\nis sure to meet us in some shape or other.\n\nThis is not all. We are also convicted of a contradiction in terms. It\nis shown, that we hold an act to be \"both necessary and not necessary.\"\nThis may appear to be an exceedingly grave charge; and yet I think we\nmay venture to put in the plea of \"guilty.\" We do hold an act to be\nnecessary, as to the strongest motive, as well as to any preceding act\nof choice, by which we contend it is not produced, and by which it\ncannot be prevented. We likewise most freely admit, that many volitions\nare necessary in other senses of the word, as explained by President\nEdwards. We cannot deny this, so long as we retain our senses; for \"a\nthing is said to be necessary,\" according to him, \"when it has already\ncome to pass, and so made sure of its existence; and it is likewise said\nto be necessary, when its present existence, is certainly and infallibly\nknown, as well as when its future existence is certainly and infallibly\nforeknown. But yet we deny, that an act of volition is necessary, in the\nsense that it is produced by the operation of the strongest motive, as\nit is called. That is to say, we admit an act of choice to be necessary,\nin some senses of the word; and, in another sense of it, we deny it to\nbe necessary.\" Is there any thing very contradictory in all this? Any\nthing to shock the common sense and reason of mankind?\n\nIt may be said, that Edwards does not always endeavour to establish the\ndoctrine of moral necessity; that he frequently aims merely to show,\nthat our actions are \"not without all necessity.\" This is unquestionably\ntrue. He frequently arrives at this conclusion; and he seems to think\nthat he has done something, whenever he has shown our actions to be\nnecessary in any sense of the word as defined by himself. But it is\ndifficult to conceive with whom he could have had any controversy. For\ncertainly no one in his right mind, could pretend to deny that human\nactions are necessary in any sense, as the word is explained and used in\nthe Inquiry. When it is said, for example, that the truth of the\nproposition which affirms the future existence of an event, is\n_necessarily_ connected with the idea that that event is certainly and\ninfallibly foreknown; no one, in his right mind, can deny the position.\nSuch a denial, as Edwards says, involves a contradiction in terms.\nHence, this notion of necessity only requires to be stated and\nunderstood, in order to rivet irresistible conviction on the mind of\nevery rational being. No light has been thrown upon it, by the pages\nwhich President Edwards has devoted to the subject; nor could a thousand\nvolumes render it one whit clearer than it is in itself. Hence, the\nauthor of the Inquiry should have seen, that if there was any\ncontroversy with him on this point, it was not because there was any\ndiversity of opinion; but because there was a misconception of his\nproposition. And no doubt he would have seen this, if the meaning of his\nown language had been clearly defined in his own mind: if he had marked\nout and circumscribed, as with a sunbeam, the precise limitation within\nwhich his own propositions are true, and beyond which they are false.\n\nIf he had done this, he would have seen that there was, and that there\ncould have been, but one real point of difference between himself and\nhis adversaries. He would have seen, that, aside from the ambiguities of\nlanguage, there was but one real point in dispute. He would have seen,\nthat it was affirmed, on the one side, that the strongest motive\noperates to produce a choice; and that this was denied on the other. And\nhence, he would have put forth his whole strength to establish this\nsingle point, to fortify this single doctrine of moral necessity. He\nwould not have crowded so many different ideas into the definition of\nthe term _necessity_; and then imagined that he was overwhelming and\nconfounding his adversaries, when he was only showing that human\n\"actions are not without all necessity.\" And when they said, that \"a\nnecessary action is a contradiction,\" he would have seen how they used\nthe term necessary; and he would not have concluded, as he has done,\nthat this \"notion of action implies contingence, _and excludes all\nnecessity_,\" p. 199. He would have seen, that the idea of an action, in\nour view, is inconsistent with necessity, in one sense of the word; and\nyet not inconsistent with every thing that has been called necessity.\n\nIn the definition of President Edwards, there is an inherent and radical\ndefect, which I have not as yet noticed; and which is, indeed, the\nsource of all his vacillating on this subject. It proceeds from a very\ncommon error, which has been well explained and illustrated by Mr.\nStewart in his Essay on the Beautiful.\n\nThe various theories, which ingenious men have framed in relation to the\nbeautiful, says Mr. Stewart, \"have originated in a prejudice, which has\ndescended to modern times from the scholastic ages; that when a word\nadmits of a variety of significations, these different significations\nmust all be _species_ of the same _genus_; and must consequently include\nsome essential idea common to every individual to which the generic term\ncan be applied.\"\n\nThe question of Aristippas, \"how can beauty differ from beauty,\" says\nMr. Stewart, \"plainly proceeded on a total misconception of the nature\nof the circumstances; which, in the history of language, attach\ndifferent meanings to the same word; and which by slow and insensible\ngradations, remove them to such a distance from their primitive or\nradical sense, that no ingenuity can trace the successive steps of their\nprogress. The variety of these circumstances is, in fact, so great, that\nit is impossible to attempt a complete enumeration of them; and I shall,\ntherefore, select a few of the cases, in which the principle now in\nquestion appears most obviously and indisputably to fail.\"\n\n\"I shall begin with supposing, that the letters A, B, C, D, E, denote a\nseries of objects; that A possesses some quality in common with B; B a\nquality in common with C; C a quality in common with D; D a quality in\ncommon with E;--while at the same time, no quality can be found which\nbelongs in common to any _three_ objects in the series. Is it not\nconceivable, that the affinity between A and B may produce a\ntransference of the name of the first to the second; and that, in\nconsequence of the other affinities which connect the remaining objects\ntogether, the same name may pass in succession from B to C; from C to D;\nand from D to E?\"\n\nThis idea, and the reasoning which Mr. Stewart has founded upon it, are\nat once obvious, original and profound. It shows that the most gifted\nphilosophers, have not been able to frame a satisfactory theory of the\nbeautiful, because they have proceeded on the false supposition, that\nall those objects which are called beautiful have some common property,\nmerely because they have a common appellation, by which they are\ndistinguished from other objects; and that in endeavouring to point out\nand define this common property, they have engaged in an impracticable\nattempt; and hence they have succeeded to their own satisfaction, only\nby doing violence to the nature of things.\n\nThis is a fruitful idea. It admits of many illustrations. I shall select\nonly a few. Philosophers and jurists have frequently attempted to define\nexecutive power; but they have proceeded on the supposition, that all\nthose powers called executive, have a common and distinguishing\nproperty, because they have a common name. Hence, they have necessarily\nfailed; because the supposition on which they have proceeded is false.\nExecutive power, properly so called, is that which sees to the execution\nof the laws; and other powers are called executive, not because they\npartake of the nature of such powers, but simply because they have been\nconferred upon the chief executive magistrate.\n\nThe same remark, may be made, in relation to the attempts of ingenious\nmen, to define the nature of law in general. If we analyze all those\nthings which have been called laws, we shall find that they have no\nelement or property in common: the only thing they have in common is the\nname. Hence, when we undertake to define law in general, or to point out\nthe common property by which laws are distinguished from other things,\nwe must necessarily fail. We may frame a definition in words, as others\nhave done; but, however carefully this may be constructed, it can be\napplied to different kinds of laws, only by giving totally different\nmeanings to the words of which it is composed. Thus, for example, a law\nis said to be \"a rule of conduct,\" given by a superior to an inferior,\nand \"which the inferior is bound to obey.\" Now, who does not see, that\nthe words _conduct_ and _obedience_, must have totally distinct\nmeanings, when they are applied to inanimate objects and when they are\napplied to the actions of moral and accountable beings? And who does not\nsee, that human beings are _bound_ to do their duty, in an entirely\ndifferent sense, from that in which matter can be said to be under an\nobligation? The same remark may be extended to all the definitions which\nhave been given of law in general. And whoever understands the\nphilosophy of definitions, will easily perceive that every attempt to\ndraw things, so wholly unlike each other, under one and the same mode of\nexpression, is not really to define, but to hide, the true nature of\nthings under the ambiguities of language.\n\nOf this common fault, President Edwards has been guilty. Instead of\ndefining the various senses of the term necessity, and always using it\nwith precision and without confusion; he has undertaken to show wherein\nthose things called necessary really agree in some common property. He\nlooked for a common nature, where there is only a common name. As\nAristippas could not conceive, \"how beauty could differ from beauty;\"\nso, if we may judge from his argument, it was a great difficulty with\nhim, to conceive how necessity can differ from necessity. Hence, when he\nproves an action to be necessary in any one of the various senses which\nare included under his definition of philosophical necessity, he\nimagines that his work is done; and when his adversary denies that an\naction is necessary in any one of those senses, he concludes that he\ndenies \"all necessity!\" In all this, we see the question as plainly as\nif it had been expressly written down, \"how can philosophical necessity\ndiffer from philosophical necessity?\" To which I would simply reply,\nthat a thing cannot differ from itself, it is true; but the same word\nmay have very different meanings; and that it is \"a prejudice which has\ndescended to modern times from the scholastic ages,\" to suppose that\nthings have a common nature, merely because they have a common name.\n\nNo better illustration of the fallacy of this prejudice could be\nfurnished, than that which Edwards has given in his definition of\nphilosophical or metaphysical necessity. Under this definition, as we\nhave seen, he has included the being of a God, which is said to be\nnecessary, because he has existed from all eternity, unmade and\nuncaused; and also the existence of an effect, which is said to be\nnecessary, because it necessarily results from the operation of a cause.\nNow, these two ideas stand in direct opposition to each other; and the\nonly thing they have in common is the name. And yet President Edwards\nreasons from the one to the other! If he can, in any way, reach the\nname, this seems to satisfy him. The _thing_ in dispute is entirely\noverlooked. If we say that choice is produced by choice, then he\ncontends it is an effect, and consequently necessary. If we deny that\nchoice is produced by choice, then it is necessary any how; not because\nit is produced by a cause, but because it is independent of a cause,\nbeing neither produced nor prevented by it. It makes no difference with\nthis great champion of necessity, whether choice is said to be produced\nby choice or not; for, on either of these opposite suppositions, he can\nshow that our volitions are necessary. The absence of the very\ncircumstance which makes it necessary in the one case, is that which\nmakes it necessary in the other. Is choice produced by choice? Then this\ndependence of choice upon choice, shows it to be necessary. Is choice\n_not_ produced by choice? Then this independence of choice upon choice\nis the very thing which shows it to be necessary! Thus this great\nchampion of necessity, just passes from one meaning of the term to\nanother, without the least regard to the point in dispute, or to the\nlogical coherency of his argument. Surely, if \"a reluctant world has\nbowed in homage\" to his logic, it must have been because the world has\nbeen too indolent to pry into the sophisms with which it swarms. It is\nonly in his onsets upon error, that the might of his resistless logic is\nfelt; in the defence of his own system, he does not reason at all, he\nmerely rambles. Indeed, with all his gigantic power, he was compelled to\nreel and stagger under the burden of such a cause.\n\n\n\nSECTION XIII.\n\nOF NATURAL AND MORAL NECESSITY.\n\nI HAVE already said many things bearing upon the famous distinction\nbetween natural and moral necessity; but this distinction is regarded as\nso important by its advocates, that it deserves a separate notice. This\nI shall proceed to give it.\n\nThe distinction in question is treated with no great reverence by the\nadvocates of free-agency. It is denounced by them as a distinction\nwithout a difference; and, though this may be true in the main, yet this\nis not the way to settle any thing. There is, indeed, a real difference\nbetween natural and moral necessity, as they are held and described by\nnecessitarians; and if we pay no attention to it, our declarations about\nits futility will be apt to produce more heat than light. I fully\nrecognize the justness of the demand made by Dr. Edwards, that those who\ninsist that natural and moral necessity are the same, should tell us in\nwhat respects they are so. \"We have informed them,\" says he, \"in what\nrespects we hold them to be different. We wish them to be equally\nexplicit and candid,\" p. 19. I intend to be equally explicit and candid.\n\nI admit, then, that there is a real difference between natural and moral\nnecessity; they differ, as the Edwardses say, in the nature of the terms\nconnected. In the one case, there is a natural cause and its effect,\nsuch as force and the motion produced by it, connected together; and in\nthe other, there is a motive and a volition. In this respect, I believe\nthat there is a greater difference between them than does the\nnecessitarian himself; for he considers volition to be of the same\nnature with an effect, whereas I regard it as essentially different in\nnature and in kind from an effect.\n\nThere is another difference between natural and moral necessity. Natural\nnecessity admits of an opposition of the will; whereas it is absurd to\nsuppose any such opposition in the case of moral necessity. A man may be\nso bound that his utmost efforts to move may prove unavailing: in such a\ncase, he is said to labour under a natural necessity. This always\nimplies and presupposes an opposition of will. But not so in regard to\nmoral necessity. It is absurd to suppose, that our wills can ever be in\nopposition to moral necessity; for this would be to suppose that we are\nmade willing by the influence of motives, and yet are not willing.\n\nNow, I fully recognize these differences between natural and moral\nnecessity, as they are viewed by the necessitarian. Whether they are not\ninconsistent with their ideas of moral necessity, is another question.\nBut as I am not concerned with that question at present, I am willing to\ntake these differences without the least abatement. Admitting, then,\nthat these distinctions are well-founded, and that they are perfectly\nconsistent with the idea of moral necessity, let us see in what respects\nthere is an agreement between the things under consideration. The\ndifference does not lie, says Edwards, _so much in the nature of the\nconnexion_, as in the two terms connected. Moral necessity is \"a sure\nand perfect connexion between moral causes and effects.\" It is \"as\nabsolute as natural necessity.\" The influence of motives is not a\ncondition of volition, which the will may or may not follow; it is the\n_cause_ thereof; and it is absurd to suppose that the effect, the\nvolition, can be loose from the influence of its cause, p. 77-8. Yes,\nvolition is just as absolutely and unconditionally controlled by motive,\nas the inanimate objects of nature are controlled by the power of the\nAlmighty. The connexion, the necessary connexion, which subsists between\nmotion and the force by which it is produced, is the same in nature and\nin kind as that which subsists between the \"action or influence of\nmotive\" and volition. Herein, then, is the agreement, that in moral\nnecessity, as well as in natural, the effect is produced by the\ninfluence of its cause. The nature of the connexion is the same in both;\nand in both it is equally absolute.\n\nNow we have seen the differences, and we have also seen the points of\nagreement; and the question is, not whether this famous distinction be\nwell-founded, but whether it will serve the purpose for which it is\nemployed. In the full light, and in the perfect recognition of this\ndistinction, we deny that it will serve the purpose of the\nnecessitarian.\n\nIt is supposed, that natural necessity alone interferes with the\nfree-agency of man, while moral necessity is perfectly consistent with\nit. But, in reality, moral necessity is more utterly subversive of all\nfree-agency and accountability than natural necessity itself. Think not\nthat this is a mere hasty and idle assertion. Let us look at it, and see\nif it is not true.\n\nWe have already seen, that a caused volition is no volition at\nall;--that a necessary agent is a contradiction in terms. In other\nwords, a power to act must itself act, and not be made to act by the\naction of any other power, or else it does not act at all. And if it\nmust be caused to act, before it can act, then, as we have already seen,\nthere must be an infinite series of acts. These things have been fully\nillustrated, and defended against the false analogies, by which they\nhave been assailed; and they are here mentioned only for the sake of\ngreater clearness and distinctness.\n\nIf the scheme of moral necessity be true, then, according to which our\nvolitions are absolutely caused by the \"action or influence of motive,\"\nit is idle to talk about free acts of the will; for there are no acts of\nthe will at all. If our wills are caused to put forth volitions, and are\nturned to one side or the other, by the controlling influence of\nmotives, it is idle to talk about a free-will; for we have no will at\nall. I know full well, that President Edwards admits that we have a\nwill; and that the will does really act; but this admission is\ncontradicted by bringing the will and all its exercises under the\ndomination and absolute control of motives. He obliterates the\ndistinction between cause and effect, between action and passion,\nbetween mental activity and bodily motion; and thereby draws the\nphenomena of will, the volitions of all intelligent creatures, under the\niron scheme of necessity. We are eternally reminded that Edwards\nbelieves in the existence of a will, and in the reality of its acts. We\nknow it; but let us not be accused of misrepresenting him, unless it can\nbe shown that one part of his system does not contradict\nanother,--unless it can be shown, not by false analogies and an abuse of\nwords, but by valid evidence, that _an act of the mind may be\nnecessarily caused_. This never has been shown; and the attempts of the\nnecessitarian to show it, as we have seen, are among the most signal\nfailures in the whole range of human philosophy. Until this be shown, we\nmust contend that there is nothing in the universe so diametrically\nopposed to all free-agency--to all liberty of the will, as the scheme of\nmoral necessity; which so clearly overthrows and, demolishes the very\nidea of a will and all its volitions.\n\nIndeed, what is called natural necessity does not properly interfere\nwith the liberty of _the will_ at all; it merely restrains the freedom\nof _motion_. It is moral necessity that reaches the seat of the mind,\nand takes away all the freedom thereof; even denying to us the\npossession of a will itself. When my hand is bound, I may strive to move\nit in vain; in this case, my _will_ is free, because I may strive, or I\nmay not; but the hand is not free, because it cannot move. But if\nmotives cause the mind to follow their influence, so that it may not\npossibly depart or be loose from that influence; then we have no will at\nall; and it is idle and a mockery to talk about freedom of the will. And\nyet, although Edwards would have us to believe that no system is\nconsistent with free-agency but his own; he occupies the position, that\nit is absurd to suppose, that a volition may possibly be loose from the\ninfluence of motive; that this is to suppose that it is the effect of\nmotive, and at the same time that it is not the effect of motive!\n\n\"All agree,\" says Day, \"that a necessity which is opposed to our choice,\nis inconsistent with liberty,\" p. 91. That is to say, a necessity which\ncuts off or prevents the external consequence of our choice, is\ninconsistent with liberty of the will; but that which takes away one\nchoice, and sets up another, is perfectly consistent with it! If the arm\nis held, so that the free choice cannot move it, then is the liberty of\nthe will interfered with; but, though the will may be absolutely swayed\nand controlled, by the influence of motives, or by the sovereign power\nof God himself, yet is it perfectly free! If such be the liberty of the\nwill, what is it worth?\n\nThere are many things, which it is beyond the power of the human mind to\naccomplish. Even in such cases, the natural necessity under which we are\nsaid to labour, does not interfere with the liberty of the will. If we\ncannot do such things, it is not because our will is not free in regard\nto them, but because its power is limited. We might very well attempt\nthem, and put forth volitions in order to accomplish them, as in our\nignorance we often do; and if we abstain from so doing in other cases,\nwherein we might wish to act, it is because we know they are beyond our\npower, and, as rational creatures, do not choose to make fools of\nourselves. To say that we are under a natural necessity, then, is only\nto say that our power is limited, and not that it is not free. It is\nreserved for moral necessity--shall I say to enslave?--no, but to\nannihilate the will.\n\nIt is true, if we will to do a thing, and are restrained from doing it\nby a superior force, we are not to blame for not doing it; or if we\nrefuse to do it, and are constrained to do it, we are equally blameless.\nIn such cases, natural necessity, although it does not reach the will,\nis an excuse for external conduct. If the question were, is a man\naccountable for his external actions? for the movements of his body?\nthen we might talk about natural necessity. But as the question, in the\npresent controversy, is, whether a man is accountable for his internal\nacts, for the volitions of his mind? to talk about natural necessity is\nwholly irrelevant. It has nothing to do with such a controversy; and\nhence, Edwards is entirely mistaken when he supposes that it is natural\nnecessity, and that alone, which is opposed to the freedom of the will.\nIt is in fact opposed to nothing but the freedom of the body; and by\nlugging it into the present controversy, it can only serve to make\nconfusion the worse confounded.\n\nIt is the general sentiment of mankind, that moral necessity is\ninconsistent with free-agency and accountability. Edwards has taken\ngreat pains to explain this fact. His great reason for it is, that men\nare in the habit of excusing themselves for their outward conduct, on\nthe ground of natural necessity. In this way, by early and constant\nassociation, the idea of blamelessness becomes firmly attached to the\nterm necessity, as well as those terms, such as must, cannot, &c., in\nwhich the same thing is implied. Hence, we naturally suppose that we are\nexcusable for those things which are necessary with a moral necessity.\nThus, the fact that men generally regard moral necessity and free-agency\nas incompatible with each other, is supposed by Edwards to arise from\nthe ambiguity of language; and that if we will only shake off this\ninfluence, we shall see a perfect agreement and harmony between them.\n\nBut is this so? Let any man fix his mind upon the very idea of moral\nnecessity itself, and then answer this question. Let him lay aside the\nterm necessity, and all kindred words; let him simply and abstractedly\nconsider a volition as being produced by the \"action or influence of\nmotives;\" and then ask himself, if the subject in which this effect is\nproduced is accountable for it? If it can be his virtue or his vice? Let\nhim conceive of a volition, or anything else, as being produced in the\nhuman mind, by an extraneous cause; and then ask himself if the mind in\nwhich it is thus produced can be to praise or to blame for it? Let any\nman do this, and I think he will see a better reason for the common\nsentiment of mankind than any which Edwards has assigned for it; he will\nsee that men have generally regarded moral necessity as incompatible\nwith free-agency and accountability, just because it is utterly\nirreconcilable with them.\n\nIndeed, however liable \"the common people,\" and philosophers too, may be\nto be deceived and misled by the ambiguities of language, there is no\nsuch deception in the present case. The common people, as they are\ncalled, do not always say, my actions are \"necessary,\" \"I cannot help\nthem,\" and therefore I am not accountable for them. They as frequently\nsay, that if my actions, if my volitions, are brought to pass by the\nstrength and influence of motives, I am not responsible for them. This\ncommon sentiment and conviction of mankind, therefore, does not blindly\naim merely at the name, while it misses the thing; it does indeed bear\nwith all its force directly upon the scheme of moral necessity itself.\nAnd its power is sought to be evaded, as we have seen, and as we shall\nstill further see, not by explaining the ambiguities of language, so as\nto enlighten mankind, but by confounding the most opposite natures, such\nas action and passion, volition and local motion, through the\nambiguities of language. It is the necessitarian, who is always talking\nabout the ambiguities of language, that is continually building upon\nthem. Indeed, it is hard to conceive why he has so often been supposed\nto use language with such wonderful precision, if it be not because he\nis eternally complaining of the want of it in others.\n\nJust let the common people, or those of them who may desire an opiate\nfor their consciences, see the scheme of moral necessity as it is in\nitself, stripped of all the disguises of an ambiguous phraseology, and\nit will satisfy them. It will be the one thing needful to their craving\nand hungering appetites. Let them be made to believe that all our\nvolitions are produced by the action and influence of motives, so that\nthey may not be otherwise than they are; and a sense of moral obligation\nand responsibility will be extinguished in their breasts, unless nature\nshould prove too strong for sophistry. Indeed, if we may believe the\nmost authentic accounts, this doctrine has done its strange and fearful\nwork among the common people, both in this country and in Europe. It is\na philosophy which is within the reach of the most ordinary minds, as\nwell as the most agreeable to the most abandoned hearts; and hence its\nawfully desolating power. And if its ravages and devastations have not\nextended wider and deeper than they have, it is because they have been\nchecked by the combined powers of nature and of religion, rather than by\nlogic; by the happy inconsistency, rather than by the superior\nmetaphysical acumen, of its advocates and admirers.\n\n\n\nSECTION XIV.\n\nOF EDWARDS' IDEA OF LIBERTY.\n\nIT was not the design of Edwards, as it is well known, to interfere with\nthe moral agency of man. He honestly believed that the scheme of\nnecessity, as held by himself, was perfectly consistent with the\ndoctrine of liberty; and he retorted upon his adversaries that it was\ntheir system, and not his, which struck at the foundation of moral\nagency and accountability. But however upright may have been his\nintentions, he has merely left us the name of liberty, while he has in\nreality denied to us its nature and its essence.\n\nAccording to his view of the subject, \"The plain and obvious meaning of\nthe words freedom and liberty, in common speech, is the _power,\nopportunity_, or _advantage that any one has to do as he pleases_. Or,\nin other words, his being free from hindrance or impediment in the way\nof doing, or conducting in any respect as he wills. And the contrary to\nliberty, whatever name we call that by, is a person's being hindered, or\nunable to conduct as he will, or being necessitated to do otherwise.\"\n\nThis is the kind of liberty for which he contends. And he says, \"There\nare two things contrary to what is called liberty in common speech. One\nis _constraint_, otherwise called _force_, _compulsion_, and\n_co-action_, which is a person's being necessitated to do a thing\n_contrary_ to his will. The other is _restraint_; which is his being\nhindered, and not having power to do _according_ to his will. But that\nwhich has no will cannot be the subject of these things.\"\n\nThis notion of liberty, as Edwards says, presupposes the existence of a\nwill. In fact, it presupposes more than this; it presupposes the\nexistence of a determination of the will. For, unless one is determined\nnot to do a thing, he cannot be constrained to do it, contrary to his\nwill; and, unless he is determined to do a thing, he cannot be\nrestrained from doing it according to his will. This kind of liberty,\nthen, as it presupposes the existence of a determination of the will,\nhas nothing to do with the manner in which that determination is brought\nto pass. If the determination of the mind or will were brought to pass,\nso to speak, by an absolutely irresistible force; just as any other\neffect is brought to pass by its efficient cause; yet this kind of\nliberty might exist in its utmost perfection. For it only requires that\nafter the will is determined in this manner, or in any other, that it\nshould be left free from _constraint_ or _restraint_, to flow on just as\nit has been determined to do. It is no other liberty than that which is\npossessed by a current of water, when it is said to flow _freely_,\nbecause it is not opposed in its course by any material obstruction.\n\nThat the liberty for which Edwards contends, has nothing to do with the\nmanner in which our actions or volitions come to pass; or, more properly\nspeaking, with the kind of relation between motives and actions, we have\nhis own express acknowledgment. \"What is vulgarly called liberty,\" says\nhe, \"namely, that power and opportunity for one to do and conduct as he\nwill, or according to his choice, is all that is meant by it; without\ntaking into the meaning of the word _any thing of the cause of that\nchoice; or at all considering how the person came to have such a\nvolition;_ whether it was caused by some _external motive_, or _internal\nhabitual bias;_ whether it was determined by some internal antecedent\nvolition, or whether it happened without a cause; whether _it was\nnecessarily connected with something foregoing, or not connected. Let\nthe person come by his choice_ ANY HOW, yet if he is able, and there is\nnothing in the way to hinder his pursuing and executing his will, _the\nman is perfectly free_, according to the primary and common notion of\nfreedom.\"\n\nThis notion of liberty, it is easy to see, is consistent with the most\nabsolute scheme of fatality of which it is possible to conceive. For,\naccording to this idea of it, if we should come by our choice \"any how,\"\neven by the most irresistible influence of external circumstances, yet\nwe might be \"perfectly free.\" Hence it is no wonder that we find the\nsame definition of liberty in the writings of the most absolute\nfatalists.\n\nIt is remarkable that Edwards has taken great pains to define his idea\nof philosophical necessity, and to distinguish it from the common sense\nof the word; and yet he supposes that the notion of liberty, about which\nthe same dispute is conversant, is that which is referred to \"in common\nspeech,\" or that \"which is vulgarly called liberty.\" He contends for a\n_philosophical necessity_, and especially for a necessary connexion\nbetween the influence of motives and volitions; but the _philosophical\nliberty_ which stands opposed to his scheme, which denies any such\n_necessary_ connexion, he has not deemed it worth his while to notice!\n\nLiberty, according to Edwards' sense of the term, has nothing to do with\nthe controversy respecting free-agency and necessity. It is as\nconsistent with fatalism as could be desired by the most extravagant\nsupporters of that odious system. Hence, when the doctrine of necessity\nis denied, and that of liberty or moral agency is asserted, something\nmore than this is intended. The idea of liberty, as it stands connected\nwith the controversy in question, has reference to the manner in which\nour volitions come to pass, to the relation which subsists between\nmotives and their corresponding actions. When we say that the will is\nfree, we mean \"that it is not necessarily determined by the influence of\nmotives;\" we mean to deny the doctrine of moral necessity, or that the\nrelation which subsists between a motive and its corresponding act, is\nnot that which subsists between an efficient cause and its effect. We\nmean to contend for a philosophical liberty, as President Edwards\ncontends for a philosophical necessity, and not for that \"which is\nvulgarly called liberty.\"\n\nThere is an inconsistency, I am aware, in supposing a choice to be\ninduced by the force of external circumstances, or by the force of\nmotives, whether external or internal; but this inconsistency belongs to\nthe scheme of necessity; and if I have indulged in the supposition for a\nmoment, it was only to meet the necessitarian, and argue with him on his\nown ground. As I have already said, a will that is _determined_, instead\nof _determining_, is no will at all. And the liberty of the will for\nwhich we contend, is implied by the power of the mind to ACT. It does\nnot depend upon the presence or the absence of any external obstruction.\nIt is no such occasional, or accidental thing; it is an inherent and\nessential attribute and power of the mind. No power in the universe, but\nthat of creation, can produce it, and no chains on earth can bind it.\n\nThe idea of liberty, as contended for by President Edwards, is no other\nthan that entertained by Mr. Locke. Thus, says the latter, \"there may be\nthought, there may be will, there may be _volition, where there is no\nliberty_.\" In illustration of this position he says, \"A man falling into\nwater, (a bridge breaking under him,) has not herein liberty, is not a\nfree-agent. For though he has _volition_, though he prefers his not\nfalling to falling, yet the forbearance of that motion not being in his\npower, the stop or cessation of that motion follows not upon his\nvolition; and therefore therein he is not free.\"\n\nIt is true, he is not therein free, in one of the most common senses of\nthe term; but it is wrong to conclude from hence, that there is in such\na case, \"_no liberty_.\" For if the volition, of which he is said to be\npossessed, did not result from the action of any thing, if it was simply\nan act of the mind, which was not necessarily produced by another act,\nthen he possessed freedom in the philosophical sense of the term. He was\nfree in the act of willing, in the possession of his volition, although\nthe consequence of that volition was cut off and prevented by an\nover-ruling necessity, which had no conceivable relation to the manner\nin which he came by his volition. Wherever there is a volition, there is\nthis kind of liberty; for a volition is not, and cannot be, produced by\nany coercive force.\n\nThe foregoing illustration might have been very consistently offered by\nPresident Edwards, who considered a volition and a preference of the\nmind as identically the same; but it comes not with so good a grace from\nMr. Locke. He considered an act of the will as different from a\npreference. According to his doctrine, a man might prefer not to fall,\nin such a case as that put by himself, and yet not will not to fall. And\nhe illustrates the difference by saying, \"a man would prefer flying to\nwalking, yet who can say he ever wills it?\" Now, if a man cannot will to\nfly, it is very difficult to see how he can will not to fall, in case he\nwere dropped from the air.\n\nThe illustration of Mr. Locke is fallacious. It does not show, and I\nhumbly conceive it cannot be shown, that there can be a volition\nanywhere in the universe where there is not freedom. The very idea of a\nvolition, or an act of the mind, necessarily implies that kind of\nphilosophical liberty for which we contend.\n\nThe above notion of liberty, which Mr. Locke borrowed from Hobbes, and\nEdwards from Locke, evidently confounds the motion of the body, (which\nthey frequently call action,) with volition or action of the mind. Thus,\nno matter how a volition comes to pass, or is caused to exist, if there\nis nothing to prevent the _motion_ of the body from following its\ninfluence, we are said to be perfectly free. This kind of liberty,\ntherefore, refers to the motion of the body, and not to the action of\nthe mind. It has no reference whatever to the question, Is the mind free\nin the act of willing? This is the question in dispute; and hence, if\nthe necessitarian would say any thing to the purpose, he must show that\nhis scheme is reconcilable with the freedom of the mind in willing. This\nEdwards has not attempted to do. He has, in fact, as we have seen, only\ngiven us the name, while he has taken from us the substance of liberty.\n\nThe idea of liberty, for which Edwards contends, may be illustrated by\nan unobstructed fall of water. Indeed, this is the very thing by which\nMr. Hobbes has chosen to illustrate and explain it. \"I conceive liberty\nto be rightly defined in this manner,\" says he; \"liberty is the absence\nof all the impediments to action, (motion?) that are not contained in\nthe nature and intrinsical quality of the agent, as for example, the\nwater is said to descend freely, or to have liberty to descend by the\nchannel of the river, because there is no impediment that way, but not\nacross, because the banks are impediments, and though the water cannot\nascend, yet men never say it wants the liberty to ascend, but the\nfaculty or power, because the impediment is in the nature of the water,\nand intrinsical.\" Mr. Hobbes encountered no more difficulty in\nreconciling this notion of liberty with the scheme of fatality for which\nhe contended, than President Edwards found in reconciling it with the\nsame scheme in disguise.\n\nAccording to the Inquiry, then, we have no other liberty than that which\nmay be ascribed to the winds and the waves of the sea, as they are\ncarried onward in their courses by the power of the Almighty. Edwards\nlooks for liberty, and he finds it, not in the will, but in the motions\nof the body, which is universally admitted to be passive to the action\nof the will. He looks for liberty, and he finds it, where, by universal\nconsent, an absolute necessity reigns; thus seeking and finding the\nliving among the dead. It is no wonder, that he could reconcile such a\nliberty with the scheme of necessity.\n\nEven President Day is not satisfied with this account of liberty. \"On\nthe subject of liberty or freedom,\" says he, \"which occupies a portion\nof the fifth section of Edwards' first book, he has been less particular\nthan was to be expected, considering that this is the great object of\ninquiry in his work.\" How could Edwards have been more particular? He\nhas repeatedly and most explicitly informed us, that liberty consists in\na power, or opportunity, to do as we choose; _without considering how we\ncome by our choice_. If we can only do as we choose, though our choice\nshould be produced by the most absolute and irresistible power in the\nuniverse, yet are we perfectly free in the highest conceivable sense of\nthe word. \"If any imagine they desire, and that they conceive of a\nhigher liberty than this,\" says he, \"they are deceived, and delude\nthemselves with confused ambiguous words instead of ideas.\" President\nDay complains that all this is not sufficiently particular; but although\nhe may not have been aware of it, I apprehend that he has been\ndissatisfied with the dreadful particularity and precision with which\nthe doctrine of the Inquiry has been exhibited. It is precisely the\ndoctrine of liberty which has been held by the most absolute and\nunqualified fatalists the world has ever seen; and it is set forth, too,\nwith a bold precision and clearness, which would have done honour to the\nstern consistency of Hobbes himself. It is no wonder, that President Day\nshould have felt a desire to see such a doctrine softened down by the\nauthor of the Inquiry.\n\n\"The professed object of his book,\" says President Day, \"_according to\nthe title-page_, is an inquiry concerning the freedom of the will;--not\nthe freedom of external conduct. We naturally look for his meaning of\nthis internal liberty. What he has said, in this section, respecting\nfreedom of the will, has rather the appearance of evading such a\ndefinition of it as might be considered his own.\" Yes, it is in this\nsection that we naturally look for his idea of the liberty of the will;\nbut we do not find it. We must turn to the title-page, if we wish to see\nany thing about the liberty of the will. \"What he has said, in this\nsection, respecting freedom of the will,\" does not, (President Day\nhimself being judge,) relate to the freedom of the will at all; it only\nrelates to the freedom of the body, which has no freedom at all; but\nwhich is wholly passive to the action of the will. President Day is not\nsatisfied with all this; and hence, he proceeds to tell us, what Edwards\nwould have said in this section, if he had not thus evaded his own\ndefinition of internal liberty. Let us see, then, what he would have\nsaid.\n\nFrom a letter to a minister of the Church of Scotland, President Day\nfinds that in the phrase conducting as a man pleases, the author of the\nInquiry means to include the idea of _choosing as he pleases_. Now, this\nis all true; and this is the internal liberty, which President Day has\nextracted from the aforesaid letter. Then, according to Edwards, we have\ntwo kinds of liberty: the one is a liberty to move the body as we\nplease, or as we choose; and the other is, to choose as we please, or as\nwe choose. In the vocabulary, and according to the psychology of\nPresident Edwards, as we have frequently seen, and as we here see, our\npleasing and our choosing are one and the same thing. Hence, to move our\nbodies according to our pleasure, is to move it according to our choice;\nand to choose as we please, is to choose as we choose. President Day\nneed not have gone to the letter in question, in order to find this\ndoctrine; for it is repeatedly set forth in the inquiry. President\nEdwards, as we have seen, frequently contends in the Inquiry, that we\nalways choose as we choose; and as frequently makes his adversaries\nassert, that we can \"choose without choosing;\" which is just as absurd,\nhe truly declares, as to say that a body can move while it is in a state\nof rest.\n\nNow, to place liberty in this \"choosing as we choose,\" without regard to\nthe cause or origin of our choice, is just about as rational as it would\nbe to place it in the axioms of geometry. Suppose a man is made to\nchoose, by an absolute and uncontrollable power; it is nevertheless\ntrue, that he chooses as he does choose. This cannot be otherwise than\ntrue; it is a self-evident and necessary truth; for nothing can be\ndifferent from itself, can be what it is, and yet not what it is, at one\nand the same time. To speak of a power of choosing as we choose, as\nEdwards and Day both do, is just about as reasonable as it were to speak\nof a power to make two and two equal to four. Supposing the Almighty\nshould cause us to choose, it is not in his power to prevent us from\nchoosing as we do choose; for he cannot work contradictions.\n\nWhether President Edwards speaks of our moving as we please, or of our\nchoosing as we please; whether he speaks of an external liberty, or of\nthis internal liberty; he is always careful to remind us, that it has no\nreference to the question, how we come by our pleasure or choice. In the\nletter referred to, wherein he admits that a man's liberty of conducting\nas he pleases or chooses, includes \"a liberty of choosing as he\npleases,\" he instantly adds, but \"without determining how he came by\nthat pleasure.\" Yes, no matter how we come by our choice, though it be\nwrought into us by the most uncontrollable power in the universe, yet\nare we free in the highest conceivable sense of the word, if we can only\n\"conduct according to our choice.\" This, instead of being the greatest\nliberty, is indeed the greatest mockery, of which it is possible for the\nimagination of man to conceive. The liberty of fate itself, is, in all\nrespects, to the full as desirable as such a liberty as this. Is it not\nwonderful, to behold the great and good author of the Inquiry, thus\nplanting himself upon the very ground of atheistical fatalism; and from\nthence, in sober, serious earnestness, holding out to us, as a great and\nglorious reality, the mere name and shadow and fiction of liberty? the\nvery phantom which atheists, in mockery and derision, have been pleased\nto confer upon mankind, as upon poor blind fools, who merely dream of\nliberty, and fondly dote upon the empty name thereof, whilst they are\nignorant of the chains which bind them fast in fate.\n\n\n\nSECTION XV.\n\nOF EDWARDS' IDEA OF VIRTUE.\n\nIN order to reconcile his scheme of necessity with the existence and\nreality of virtue, it appears that Edwards has adopted a false notion of\nvirtue. This is the course he has taken, as I have already shown, in\nregard to the doctrine of liberty or free-agency, in order to reconcile\nit with necessity; and if I mistake not, it may be shown, that he has\nbeen able to reconcile necessity and virtue only by transforming the\nnature of virtue to make it suit his system.\n\nI do not intend, at present, to enter into a full discussion of the\nauthor's views in relation to the nature of virtue. I shall content\nmyself with a brief consideration of his notion of virtue, as it stands\nmore immediately and directly connected with the subject of the Inquiry.\n\nIt is a fundamental principle with him, that \"the essence of the virtue\nand viciousness of dispositions of the heart, and acts of the will, lies\nnot in their cause, but their nature.\" In what precise sense the author\nwould have us to understand this proposition, I shall not now stop to\ninquire. It is sufficient for my present purpose, that he attaches such\na sense to it, as to make the idea of virtue it is intended to define,\nto agree not only with his doctrine of necessity, but also with any\nother kind of necessity or fatality whatever. For he maintains, that as\nthe essence of virtue does not consist in its cause, but in its nature,\nso a man by the mere act of creation may, in the proper sense of the\nword, be endowed with virtuous and holy dispositions. It is true, the\nman himself has had no share in the production of his dispositions, they\nare exclusively the work of his Creator; but yet they are virtuous, they\nare the objects of moral approbation, because the virtuousness of\ndispositions has nothing at all to do with their cause or origin. It\ndepends wholly on their nature, and having this nature, (as he supposes\nthey may have by creation alone,) he concludes that they are properly\nand truly virtuous, although the person in whom they exist has in no\nmanner whatever contributed to their production; neither in whole nor in\npart, neither exclusively nor concurrently with his Maker. Now, it is\nevident, I think, that if virtue may be made to exist in this way, by a\npower wholly extraneous to the being in whom it exists, and wholly\nindependent of all his own thoughts and reflections and doings, then it\nmay be easily reconciled with the most absolute scheme of fatality that\nhas ever been advocated. For it may exist without any agency or\nconcurrence or consent on the part of the person in whom it exists; and\nhence, there would be no difficulty in reconciling it with any scheme of\nnecessity that any fatalist may be pleased to advance.\n\nTo show that I have not misrepresented the author, I shall select from\nmany passages of similar import, the following from his work on\n\"Original Sin:\"--\"Human nature must be created with some dispositions; a\ndisposition to relish some things as good and amiable, and to be averse\nto other things as odious and disagreeable: otherwise it must be without\nany such thing as inclination or will, perfectly indifferent, without\npreference, without choice or aversion towards any thing as agreeable or\ndisagreeable. But if it had any concreated dispositions at all, they\nmust be either right or wrong, either agreeable or disagreeable to the\nnature of things. If man had at first the highest relish of things\nexcellent and beautiful, a disposition to have the quickest and highest\ndelight in those things which are most worthy of it, then his\ndispositions were morally right and amiable, and _never can be excellent\nin a higher sense_. But if he had a disposition to love most those\nthings that were inferior and less worthy, then his dispositions were\nvicious. And it is evident there can be no medium between these.\"\n\nNow, this principle, that a man may be to praise or to blame, that he\nmay be esteemed virtuous or vicious, on account of what he has wholly\nand exclusively received from another, appears to me to be utterly\nirreconcilable with one of the clearest and most unequivocal dictates of\nreason and conscience.\n\nAccording to the above passage, there can be no medium between virtuous\nand vicious dispositions. This sentiment is still more explicitly\ndeclared in the following words; \"In a moral agent, subject to moral\nobligations, it is the same thing to be perfectly _innocent_, as to be\nperfectly _righteous_. It must be the same, because there can no more be\nany medium between sin and righteousness, or between being right and\nbeing wrong, in a moral sense, than there can be between being straight\nand crooked, in a natural sense.\" Now, all this is very true, in regard\nto a moral being who has been called upon to act; for he must either\nlive up to the rule of duty, or he must fall short of it. If he does the\nformer, he becomes righteous in the true and proper sense of the term;\nand if he does the latter, he loses his original innocence, and becomes\na transgressor. But before he has any opportunity of acting, at the\ninstant of his creation, I humbly conceive that no moral agent is either\nto be praised or blamed for any disposition with which he may have been\nendowed by his Maker. He is neither virtuous nor vicious, neither\nrighteous nor sinful. This was the condition of Adam, as it very clearly\nappears to me, at the instant of his creation. He was in a state of\nperfect _innocency_; having neither transgressed the law of God, nor\nattained to true holiness. And if this be the case, then in regard to\nsuch a moral agent, before he has an opportunity to act, or to think, or\nto feel, it is not \"the same thing to be perfectly innocent, as to be,\nperfectly righteous;\" nor the same thing to be destitute of true\nrighteousness, as to be sinful.\n\nIt strikes my mind with the force of a self-evident truth, that nothing\ncan be our virtue, unless we are in some sense the author of it; and to\naffirm that a man may be justly praised or blamed, that he may be\nesteemed virtuous or vicious, on account of what he has wholly and\nexclusively received from another, appears to me to contradict one of\nthe clearest and most unequivocal dictates of reason, one of the most\nuniversal and irreversible laws of human belief.\n\nThough the Almighty endowed Adam with all that is lovely in human\nnature, the recipient of such noble qualities certainly deserved no\ncredit for them, as he had no agency in their production. All the praise\nand glory belonged to God. Such dispositions are no doubt the objects of\nour admiration and love, but they are no more the objects of our _moral\napprobation_ than is the beauty of a flower. Both are the work of the\nsame creative energy which hath diffused so much of loveliness and\nbeauty over every part of the creation.\n\nHence, I deny that Adam was \"created or brought into existence\nrighteous.\" I am willing to admit, that he \"was brought into existence\ncapable of acting immediately as a moral agent; and, therefore, he was\nimmediately under a rule of _right_ action. He was obliged as soon as he\nexisted, to _act right_.\" But I deny that until he did begin to act, he\ncould possess the character of true holiness or virtue. That President\nEdwards thought otherwise, is evident, not only from the passage already\nquoted, but also from many others, as well as from the fact, that he\nargues if Adam had not possessed virtuous dispositions before he began\nto act,--if he had not derived them directly from his Creator, then the\nexistence of virtue would have been impossible.\n\nOn this subject, his argument is ingenious and plausible. It is as\nfollows: \"It is agreeable to the sense of men, in all nations and ages,\nnot only that the fruit or effect of a good choice is virtuous, but that\nthe good choice itself from whence that effect proceeds, is so; yea,\nalso the antecedent good disposition, temper, or affection of mind, from\nwhence proceeds that _good_ choice, is virtuous. This is the general\nnotion--not that principles derive their goodness from actions,\nbut--that actions derive their goodness from the principles whence they\nproceed; so that the act of choosing what is good, is no further\nvirtuous, than it proceeds from a good principle, or virtuous\ndisposition of mind. Which supposes that a virtuous disposition of mind,\nmay be before a virtuous act of choice; and that, therefore, it is not\nnecessary there should first be thought, reflection, and choice, before\nthere can be any virtuous disposition. If the choice be first, before\nthe existence of a good disposition of heart, what is the character of\nthat choice? There can, according to our natural notions, be no virtue\nin a choice which proceeds from no virtuous principle, but from mere\nself-love, ambition, or some animal appetite: therefore, a virtuous\ntemper of mind may be before a good act of choice, as a tree may be\nbefore the fruit, and the fountain before the stream which proceeds from\nit,\" p. 407.\n\nIt is true, that actions derive their good or evil quality, as the case\nmay be, from the principles whence they proceed. This accords, as the\nauthor truly says, with the universal sentiment of mankind. But this\nproposition, plain and simple as it appears to be at first sight, may be\nmisunderstood. The term \"principle\" is ambiguous; and, according to the\nidea attached to it, the above proposition may be true or false. When it\nis said, for example, that a vicious or sinful action derives its evil\nquality from the principle or motive whence it proceeds, I apprehend\nthat no one pretends to fix the brand of condemnation on the implanted\nprinciple, or the natural spring of action, from which it is supposed to\nproceed. To take the very case in question; our first parents, in eating\nthe forbidden fruit, acted partly from a desire of food and partly from\na desire of knowledge. Now, this was a sinful action, because forbidden,\nand consequently, according to the sense of men in all ages and nations,\nit must have proceeded from a sinful inclination or principle. But yet\nno one, I presume, will contend that either the desire of food or the\ndesire of knowledge, from which it is supposed to have proceeded, is in\nitself sinful. They were implanted in our nature by the finger of God,\nfor wise and beneficent purposes; and to assert that they are sinful, is\nto make God the author of sin. Our first parents were not to blame\nbecause they were endowed with these principles. Hence, when it is said,\nthat a sinful action must proceed from a sinful principle, we are not to\nunderstand the proposition as meaning that the inherent constitutional\nprinciple of action from which it is supposed to proceed is sinful. Our\nfirst parents sinned, not in possessing an appetite for food, or a\ndesire for knowledge, but in indulging these contrary to the will of\nGod. It was their _intention_ and _design_ to do that which God had\ncommanded them not to do, and which they knew it was wrong for them to\ndo. It was this intention and design, which was certainly not an\nimplanted principle, or any part of the work of the Creator, which\nconstituted their sin; and it is this intention and design that is\npointed at, when it is said, that the principle or motive from which\ntheir transgression proceeded, was a sinful principle or motive. And\nhence, we very clearly perceive, that a sinful action may result from\nthose principles of our constitution, which are in themselves neither\nvirtuous nor vicious, which are wholly destitute of any moral character\nwhatever. So, in like manner, a virtuous action may result from a\nprinciple of our nature, implanted in the human breast by the Author of\nour being, although such principle may not, properly speaking, be called\na virtuous principle, or an object of moral approbation.\n\nThe fallacy of the author's argument, I conceive, has arisen from the\nambiguity of the term principle. As it is truly said, that a holy action\ncan proceed only from a holy principle or disposition, he concluded,\nthat if man had not been created with a principle of virtue or holiness\nin his heart, then no such thing as virtue or holiness could ever have\nfound its way into the world. Supposing, all the time, that it is\nuniversally considered that a virtuous act could proceed only from an\nimplanted principle of virtue, of which God alone is the author;\nwhereas, in fact, the virtuous principle from which the virtuous act is\nsupposed to derive its character, is not an implanted principle at all,\nbut the design, or intention, or motive with which the act is done; and\nof which the created agent is himself the author.\n\nThere is one thing well worthy of remark in this connexion. President\nEdwards contends, as we have seen, that Adam must have been created with\na principle of virtue, of which his Maker was the sole author, or else\nthe existence of virtue would have been impossible, And yet, he contends\nthat Adam was created perfectly free from sin;--that as he came from the\nhand of his Maker, he was perfectly pure and holy, without the least\nstain or blemish of any wrong or vicious principle upon his nature. Is\nit not wonderful, that it did not occur to so acute a reasoner as the\nauthor of the \"Inquiry,\" that if his own argument was sound, it would,\naccording to his own principle, prove the introduction of sin into the\nworld to be utterly impossible? That he did not see, if it is impossible\nto account for the existence of holiness, except on the supposition that\nman was created or brought into the world with a principle of holiness\nimplanted in his heart; so, for the same reason, it is equally\nimpossible to account for the existence of sin, except on the\nsupposition that a sinful principle was implanted in the breast of man\nby the hand of his Maker?\n\nThe above extract, by which Edwards endeavours to prove that Adam could\nnot have performed a virtuous act, unless a virtuous principle had been\nplanted in his nature by the Creator, would be just as correct and\nconclusive, if we were to read vicious instead of virtuous. By the very\nsame argument, we might prove that he could not have sinned, and so sin\nwould have been impossible, unless God had planted a sinful principle or\ndisposition in his nature.\n\nIt is sufficiently evident, that President Edwards' idea of the essence\nof virtue, was not altogether correct, and that he was led to adopt it\nby the necessities of a false system. For if we admit that the essence\nof virtue or of sin consists in its nature, and not in its cause or\norigin, it must be conceded, on the other hand, that the nature of those\nprinciples, or dispositions, or volitions, or habits, (call them what we\nmay,) which are termed virtuous or vicious, depend in a very important\nsense upon their cause or origin. It must be conceded, that no\ndisposition or principle whatever which has derived its origin wholly\nfrom any cause or power extraneous to the moral agent in which it\nexists, can be properly denominated virtuous or vicious. It cannot\npartake of the nature of virtue or of vice, unless it owes its origin to\nthe agent whose virtue or whose vice it is supposed to be. If it\nproceeds wholly from the \"power, influence, or action,\" of motives, or\nfrom the hand of the Creator, it is not the act of the agent in whom it\nexists, and consequently he is not accountable for it. Or, in other\nwords, the nature of virtue and vice is such, that they cannot possibly\nbe produced by any \"cause, or power, or influence,\" which is wholly\nextraneous to the mind in which they exist. Virtue and vice, in the\nstrict and proper sense of the words, must have the concurrence and\nconsent of the mind in which they exist, or they cannot possibly exist\nat all. To speak of virtue,--of that which deserves our moral\napprobation, as being wholly derived from another--as being exclusively\nthe work of God in the soul, is to be guilty of a contradiction, as\nplain and palpable as the light of heaven. It is to be regretted, it is\nto be deeply lamented, that Edwards did not try to bring his doctrine of\nthe will into harmony with the common sentiments of mankind with respect\nto the nature of virtue and free-agency, instead of exerting his\nmatchless powers to make virtue and free-agency agree with his scheme of\nnecessity, by explaining away and transforming their natures. It is to\nbe lamented; because in attempting to uphold and support the distinctive\npeculiarities of his own system of theology, he has unintentionally\nstruck a deadly blow at the vital and fundamental principles of all\nreligion, both natural and revealed. The infidel and the atheist are\nmuch indebted to him for such an exertion of his immortal powers.\n\n\n\nSECTION XVI.\n\nOF THE SELF-DETERMINING POWER.\n\nTHE advocates of free-agency have contended that the will is determined\nby itself, and not by the strongest motive. This is the ground which, so\nfar as I know, has always been taken against the doctrine of necessity;\nbut it may be questioned whether it is tenable, and whether the friends\nof moral agency might not have made far greater headway against their\nadversaries if they had not assumed such a position. It appears to be\ninvolved in several inevitable contradictions; in the exposure of which\nthe necessitarian has been accustomed to triumph.\n\nThe leading argument of Edwards against the self-determining power may\nbe substantially stated in a few words. The will can be the cause of no\neffect, says he, except by acting, or putting forth a volition to cause\nit; and hence, if we assert that the will causes its own volitions, we\nmust suppose it causes them by preceding volitions. It can cause a\nvolition only by a prior volition, which, in its turn, can be caused\nonly by another volition prior to it; and so on _ad infinitum_. Thus,\naccording to Edwards, the self-determining power of the will necessarily\nruns out into the absurdity of an infinite series of volitions.\n\nIf this reasoning is just, the doctrine in question must be abandoned;\nfor no sound doctrine can lead to such a conclusion. But is it just?\nDoes such an absurdity really flow from the self-determining power of\nthe will?\n\nIt has been objected to the argument of Edwards, that it is based on a\nfalse assumption. The position of Edwards, \"that if the will determines\nitself, it must determine itself by an act of choice,\" is, it has been\ncontended, clearly an assumption unsupported, and incapable of being\nsupported. The reason assigned for this objection is, that we do not\nknow how any cause exerts itself in the production of phenomena; and\nconsequently we have no right to assume that the will can cause its\nvolitions only by volitions. In other words, as we do not know how any\ncause produces its effects, so it is wholly a gratuitous assumption to\nsay, that if the will causes its volitions, it must cause them in this\nparticular manner, that is, by preceding acts of volition.\n\nThis objection does not seem to be well taken. When we say, that the\nwill is the cause of any thing, we do not really mean that the will\nitself is the cause of it; for the will itself does not act: it is not\nan agent, it is merely the power of an agent. It is that power by which\nthe mind acts. Hence, when the will is said to cause a thing, the\nlanguage must either have no intelligible meaning, or it must be\nunderstood to mean, that the mind causes it by an exercise of its power\nof willing. But to say that the mind causes a thing by an exercise of\nits power of willing, is to say that it causes it by an act of the will\nor a volition; which brings us to the assumption of Edwards. Hence, if\nthe language that \"the will causes its own volitions\" means any thing,\nit must mean what Edwards supposes it does. That is, if the will causes\nits volition, or rather, if the mind in the act of willing causes them,\nthen they must be caused by volitions or acts of the will.\n\nIt is said, that \"we do not know _how_ any cause acts.\" This is very\ntrue, when properly understood; but in the true sense of this maxim,\nEdwards has not undertaken to explain how a cause acts; nor has he made\nany assumption as to how it acts. The _term_ cause has a variety of\nmeanings; and it is frequently applied with extreme vagueness and want\nof precision. What is the cause of an effect?--of the motion of the\nhand, for example? It is the mind, says one; it is the will, says\nanother; it is a volition, replies a third. Now here are three distinct\nthings,--the mind, the will, and the volition; and yet each is said to\nbe the cause of the same identical effect. This diversity of expression\nmay do very well in popular discourse, but it must be laid aside\nwhenever philosophical precision is required.\n\nWhat is then, really and properly speaking, the cause of the motion in\nquestion? It is neither the mind, nor the will; for these might both\nexist, and yet no such effect result from them. A mind, or a will, that\nlies still and does not act, is the cause of no effect. If we would\nspeak with philosophical precision, then, we should say that the act of\nthe mind is the cause of the effect in question. The idea of a cause, in\nthe strict and proper sense of the term, is that from which the effect\nimmediately and necessarily flows. Now the motion of the hand is not\nnecessarily connected with the mind itself; for if the mind were to lie\nstill and not act, no such effect would follow. It is with the act of\nthe mind that the effect in question is connected as with its efficient\ncause. It is the act of the mind which implies the motion of the hand,\nand that is implied by it; and hence, it is the act of the mind, or the\nvolition, that is properly said to be the cause of such motion. For\ncause and effect, are said to imply each other.\n\nNow Edwards has not pretended to say how a volition acts upon the\nexternal part of our being; if he had done so, he would have been justly\nobnoxious to the charge of presuming to know how a cause acts, in the\nproper sense of the word; but he has done no such thing. The connexion\nbetween cause and effect, in the proper sense of the terms, he has left\nenveloped in profound mystery. He has not presumed to say how an act, or\ncause, properly so called, produces its corresponding effect.\n\nHe does not assume to know how a cause acts; but how what is sometimes\ncalled a cause really becomes such. The will may be called a cause, if\nyou please; but, in reality, unless it acts, it is the cause of no\neffect; and even then, properly speaking, the act is the cause. He\nclearly saw that a will which lies still and does nothing, is the cause\nof no effect; and hence he stated the simple fact, that it must act in\norder to become a cause, or, which is the same thing, in order to\nproduce an effect. And is not this perfectly self-evident? We do not\nknow how the will acts, nor how its act produces a change in the\nexternal part of our being; but yet do we not certainly know, that a\ndormant will can do nothing, and that it must act in order to produce an\neffect. If this be to explain how a cause acts, I humbly conceive that\nwe may do so with perfect propriety.\n\nIndeed, all that is assumed by Edwards, has been conceded to him by most\nof his adversaries. Thus says Dr. West, as quoted by Edwards the\nyounger, \"No being can become a cause, i. e. an efficient, or that which\nproduces an effect, but by first operating, acting, or energizing.\" Here\nwe are told, not how a cause acts, but how the mind becomes a cause, or\nthe author of effects. This is all that Edwards takes for granted; and,\nfor aught that I can see, he has done so with perfect propriety.\n\nThe same thing is conceded by Dr. Reid. \"The change,\" says he, \"whether\nit be of thought, of will, or of motion, is the effect. Active power,\ntherefore, is a quality in the cause, which enables it to produce the\neffect. And the exertion of that active power in producing the effect,\nis called action, agency, efficiency. In order to the production of any\neffect, there must be in the cause, not only power, _but the exertion of\nthat power_.\"--Essays on the Active Powers, p. 259. Here it is declared\nby Dr. Reid, that active power or the will must act, in order to produce\nan effect, whether the effect be in the mind itself, or out of the mind,\nwhether it be \"of thought, of will, or of motion.\" This is all that\nEdwards assumes as the basis of his argument.\n\nBut the question is not so much what has been conceded, as what is true.\nIs it true, then, that if the will causes its own volitions, it can\ncause them only by preceding volitions? It is, as we have already seen,\naccording to the common acceptation of the terms; for a dormant cause\ncan produce no effect; it must act in order to produce effects. Edwards\nhas truly said, that \"if the will be determined, there is a determiner.\nThis must be supposed to be intended even by those that say the will\ndetermines itself. If it be so, the will is both determiner and\ndetermined; it is a cause that acts and produces effects upon itself,\nand is the object of its own influence and action.\" p. 19. Now, whatever\nmay be the meaning of those who choose to affirm that the will\ndetermines itself, admitting that it is both determined and determiner;\nthe conclusion of Edwards seems to be fairly drawn from the language in\nwhich their doctrine is expressed. To say the least, he fairly reduces\nthe obvious meaning of their language to the absurdity of an infinite\nseries of volitions.\n\nIf the phrase, that the will is determined by itself, has any meaning,\nit must mean, either that the will is made to act by a preceding act of\nthe will, or that the will simply acts. If the meaning be, that the act\nor choice of the will is produced by a preceding act of the will, then\nis the inference of Edwards well drawn, and the self-determining power\nis involved in the aforesaid _ad infinitum_ absurdity. But if the\nmeaning be, that the will simply acts, why not present the idea in this\nits true and unambiguous form?\n\nIt is evident, that while the will remains inactive, it can produce no\neffect; it must act, in order to become the author of effects. The\neffect caused, and the causative act, are clearly distinct; the one\nproduces the other. If the causative act is a volition, then we have an\ninfinite series of volitions. And if it be not a volition, but some\nother effort of the mind, the same difficulty arises; for if it be\nnecessary to suppose a preceding effort of the mind in order to account\nfor a volition, it will be equally necessary to suppose the existence of\nanother effort to account for that; and so on _ad infinitum_. And an\ninfinite series of efforts is just as great an absurdity as an infinite\nseries of volitions.\n\nNow let us suppose that, in order to escape these difficulties, an\nadvocate of the self-determining power should deny that there is any\ncausative act of volition; but that volition is itself an act uncaused\nby any preceding act. According to this view, what does the\nself-determining power amount to? It amounts to just this, that the will\nitself acts,--a position which is as freely recognized by Edwards as it\ncould possibly be by the warmest advocate of the self-determining power.\nIf this be all that is meant by self-determination, why not state the\nsimple fact that the will itself acts, in plain English, instead of\ngoing about to envelope it in a mist of words? If this be all that is\nmeant, why not state the thing so that it may be acquiesced in by the\nnecessitarian, instead of keeping up such a war of words? Indeed, it\nappears plain to me, that the assertion that the will is determined by\nitself, is either false doctrine, or else the language in which it is\ncouched is not a clear and distinct expression of its own meaning. On\neither supposition, this mode of expression should be abandoned.\n\nI have long been impressed with the conviction, that the\nself-determining power, as it is generally understood, is full of\ninconsistencies. While we hold this doctrine, we cannot with a good\ngrace contend that the motive-determining power is involved in the\nabsurdity of an infinite series of causes; for we ourselves are involved\nin it. Nor can we very well maintain that \"a necessary agent is no agent\nat all;\" for the necessitarian will reply, as he always does, that\naccording to our own scheme, our actions are caused; and hence, if it be\nabsurd to speak of a caused action, this is equally true, whether the\ncause be intrinsic or extrinsic. Moreover, if we should complain that,\naccording to the necessitarian, the phenomena of the will are involved\nin the \"mechanism of cause and effect,\" he will be sure to reply, that\nthe same thing is true according to our own scheme, inasmuch as we admit\nvolition to be an effect, and place it under the dominion of an internal\ncause. These difficulties, as well as some others, have always\nencumbered the cause of free and accountable agency; just because it has\nbeen supposed to consist in the self-determining power of the will. We\nshould, therefore, abandon this doctrine. If Clarke, and Price, and\nReid, and West, have not been able to maintain it without running into\nsuch inconsistencies, it is high time it should be laid aside forever.\n\nIt has always been taken for granted that the will is determined. The\nuse of this word clearly implies that the will is acted upon, either by\nthe will itself, or by something else. It has been conceded, on all\nsides, that it is determined; and the only controversy has been, as to\nwhat is the determiner. It is determined by the strongest motive, says\none; it is determined by itself, says another; and upon these two\npositions the combatants have arranged themselves. But behind all this\ncontroversy, there is a question which has not been agitated; and that\nis, whether the will is determined at all? For my part, I am firmly and\nfully persuaded that it is not, but that it simply determines. It is the\n\"determiner,\" but not the \"determined.\" It is never the object of its\nown determination. It acts, but there is no causative act, by which it\nis made to act. This position, I trust, has been made good in the\npreceding pages.\n\nIf we say that the will is determined by itself, this implies that it is\ndetermined in the passive voice, at the same time that it determines in\nthe active voice; whereas, in reality, it is simply active, and not\npassive to the action of any thing, in its determinations. We should not\nsay, then, that the mind is self-determined, but simply that it is\nself-active. On this ground we may securely rest in our opposition to\nthe scheme of necessity. It can never be shown that it is involved in\nthe absurdity of an endless series of causes; it will remain for the\nnecessitarian alone to extricate himself from that absurdity. That the\nmind is self-active, I have already shown, by showing that it is absurd\nto suppose that an act of the mind is produced by the action of any\nthing upon it. It is right here, then, upon the self-activity of the\nhuman mind, that we take our stand, in order to plant the lever which\nshall heave the scheme of moral necessity from its foundations. It is\nright here that we find our stronghold; that we erect the bulwark and\nthe fortifications of man's free-agency, against which, as against a\nwall of adamant, all the shafts of the necessitarian will fall blunted\nto the earth, or else recoil with destructive force upon himself.\n\nBut why fight against the doctrine of those who have laboured in the\nsame great cause with myself? Truly, most truly, not because it is a\ngrateful task, but because it is a deep and earnest conviction, wrought\ninto my mind by the meditation of years, that the great and glorious\ncause of free-agency has been retarded by some of the errors of its\nfriends, more than by all the truths of its enemies. This has appeared\nto be the case especially in regard to the self-determining power of the\nwill. It seems to have retained its hold upon the mind of its friends,\nnot so much by its intrinsic merits, as by its denial of moral\nnecessity, and the idea that it is the only mode of such denial. As the\nscheme of moral necessity has triumphed in the weakness of the\nself-determining power, so has the self-determining power resisted the\nsiege of centuries, in the unconquerable energy of its opposition to the\ndetermining and controlling power of motives. And if both have stood\ntogether, each deriving strength from the weakness of the other, is it\nnot possible that both may fall together, and that a more complete and\nsatisfactory scheme of moral agency may arise out of the common ruins?\n\n\n\nSECTION XVII.\n\nOF THE DEFINITION OF A FREE AGENT.\n\nHAVING shown, as I trust, that there is no influence whatever operating\nupon the mind to produce volition, I am now prepared to declare the true\nidea of a free-agent.\n\nA free-agent, then, is one who acts without being caused to act. Here\nthe question arises, Is such a thing possible? Can any being act,\nwithout being caused to act? The answer to this question, depends upon\nthe meaning which is attached to the very ambiguous term cause. If it\nmeans an efficient cause, or that which produces a thing by prior action\nor influence, it is possible for a spirit to act without being caused to\ndo so; and, as we have already seen, if there can be no action without\nsuch a cause of its existence, then there must be an infinite series of\nactions or causes. But if the question be, Can an act arise and come\ninto being, without a sufficient \"ground and reason\" of its existence? I\nanswer, No. It is very necessary to separate the different questions\nincluded in the general one, Is not a volition caused? or has it not a\ncause? and to pass upon them separately.\n\nThere is, I admit, a \"sufficient ground and reason\" for our actions; but\nnot an _efficient_ cause of them. This is the all-important distinction\nwhich has been overlooked in the present controversy. Edwards frequently\nasks, if a volition is without a cause? Now we call for a division of\nthis question. Has volition an efficient cause? I answer, No. Has it a\n\"sufficient ground and reason\" of its existence? I answer, Yes. No one\never imagined that there are no indispensable antecedents to choice,\nwithout which it could not take place; but Edwards has framed this\nquestion in such a manner, that we cannot give a categorical answer to\nit, without either denying our own doctrine, or else subscribing to his.\nUnless there were a mind, there could be no act of the mind; and unless\nthe mind possessed a power of acting, it could not put forth volitions.\nThe mind, then, and the power of the mind called will, constitute the\nground of action or volition.\n\nBut a power to act, it will be said, is not a sufficient reason to\naccount for the existence of action. This is true. The _reason_ is to\ncome. The sufficient reason, however, is not an efficient cause; for\nthere is some difference between a blind impulse or force, and\nrationality. The mind is endowed with various appetites, passions, and\ndesires,--with noble affections, and, above all, with a feeling of moral\napprobation and disapprobation. These are not the \"active principles,\"\nor the \"motive powers,\" as they have been called; they are the ends of\nour acting: we simply act in order to gratify them. They exert no\ninfluence over the will, much less is the will controlled by them; and\nhence, we are perfectly free, to gratify the one or the other of\nthem;--to act in obedience to the dictates of conscience, or in order to\ngratify the lowest appetites of our nature. We see that certain means\nmust be used, in order to gratify the passion, desire, affection, or\nfeeling, which we _intend_ to gratify; and we act accordingly. In all\nthis, we form our designs or _intentions_ free from all influence\nwhatever: nothing acts upon the will: we fix upon the end, and we choose\nthe means to accomplish it. We adapt the means to our end; because there\nis a fitness in them to accomplish that end or design; and because, as\nrational creatures, we perceive that fitness. Thus, we act according to\nreason, but not from the influence of reason. We act with a view to our\ndesires, but not from the influence of our desires; and our volition is\nvirtuous or vicious according to the intention with which it is put\nforth,--according to the design with which it is directed. Passion is\nnot \"the gale,\" it is \"the card.\" Reason is not the force, it is the\nlaw. All the power resides in the free, untrammelled will. He who\noverlooks this, and blindly seeks for something to \"move the mind to\nvolition,\" loses sight of the grand and distinctive peculiarity of man's\nnature, and brings it down to the dust, subjecting it to the laws of\nmatter and to bondage.\n\nWe do not allow Mr. Hobbes to declare our idea of a free-agent, as \"one\nthat, when all the circumstances necessary to produce action are\npresent, _can nevertheless not act_;\" nor do we accept of the amendment,\nof another, \"that a free-agent is one who, when all the circumstances\nnecessary to produce action are present, _can act_.\" For if all the\ncircumstances necessary _to produce_ action are present, then they would\nproduce it; and nothing would be left for the will to do, except to\nreceive the producing influence. In other words, if volition is produced\nby circumstances, then it is a passive impression made upon the will,\nand not an act at all.\n\nIt is contended by Edwards, that it is just as absurd to say, that a\nvolition can come into existence without a cause, as it is that a world\nshould do so. It is true, that a world cannot arise out of nothing, and\ncome into existence of itself; and this is also equally true of a\nvolition. But is the mind nothing? Is the will nothing? Is a free,\nintelligent, designing cause nothing?\n\nThe mind is something; and it is capable of acting in order to fulfil\nits own designs, though it be not impelled to act. Is this idea absurd?\nIs it self-contradictory? Is it any thing like the assertion, that an\neffect has no cause? It is not. It implies no contradiction;--it is a\npossible idea. How does it act, then? I do not know. This is a mystery.\nIndeed, every ultimate fact in man's nature, and every simple exercise\nof his intellectual powers, is a mystery. An exercise of the power of\nconception, by which the past is called up, and made to pass in review\nbefore us; an exercise of the imagination, by which the world is made to\nteem with wonders of our own creation; and an exercise of the will, by\nwhich we produce changes in, the external world; are all mysteries? Now,\nshall we fly from these mysteries? Shall we strive to make the matter\nplain, in a single instance, by assigning an efficient cause to an act\nof the will? If so, whether we escape the _mystery_ or not, we shall\ncertainly plunge into _absurdity_. We shall embrace a doctrine, which\ndenies the nature of action, and which is necessarily involved in the\ngreat absurdity of an infinite series of causes. For my part, I prefer a\nsimple statement of the fact of volition, with its attendant\ncircumstances, how much soever of mystery it may seem to leave around\nthe subject, to any _explanation_ which involves it in absurdity.\n\nThe philosophers of all ages have sought for the efficient cause of\nvolition; but who has found it? Is it in the will? The necessitarian has\nshown the absurdities of this hypothesis. Is it in the power of motive?\nThis hypothesis is fraught with the very same absurdities. Is it in the\nuncaused volition of Deity? The younger Edwards could do nothing with\nthis hypothesis. In truth, the efficient cause of volition is nowhere.\nIt has never been found, because it does not exist; and it never will be\nfound, so long as an action of mind continues to be what it is.\n\nThis, then, is the true idea of a free-agent: it is one who, in view of\ncircumstances, both external and internal, can act, without being\nefficiently caused to do so. This is the idea of a free-agent which God\nhas realized by the creation of the soul of man. It may be a mystery;\nbut it is not a contradiction. It may be a mystery; but then it solves a\nthousand difficulties which we have unnecessarily created to ourselves.\nIt may be a mystery; but then it is the only safe retreat from\nself-contradiction, absurdity, and atheism.\n\nIt is no reason for disbelieving a thing, that we cannot conceive how it\nis. This will be readily admitted; but this principle, like every other,\nmay be misapplied and abused. If any thing is possible in itself\nconsidered, that is, if it implies no contradiction, we should not\nrefuse to believe it, because we cannot conceive how it is. When\nconfined within these limits, the principle or maxim in question is one\nof immense importance; and to disregard it betrays one of the greatest\nweaknesses to which the human mind is exposed. If we do not adhere to\nit, there is no resting-place for us this side of the most unqualified\natheism: we shall be compelled to renounce, not only the stupendous\nfacts and mysteries of revelation, but also all the great truths of\nnatural religion. The very being and attributes of God can find no place\nin our minds, if we expunge this principle from them; and insist upon\nseeing how every thing is, before we consent to receive it as an object\nof belief.\n\nWe should find no difficulty, therefore, in believing that the mind of\nman acts, without being efficiently caused to act. This implies no\ncontradiction; and hence the creative power of God can produce such a\nbeing--a being that acts freely, without labouring under any necessity,\neither natural or moral, in its accountable and moral agency. A being,\nthe end of whose action is found in the sensibility; the intention, the\ndesign, and the plan of whose action is formed in the intelligence; and\nthe power by which this intention is executed, and this plan\naccomplished, is in the will alone. It is in this triunity of the\nsensibility, the intelligence, and the will, that the glory of man's\nnature, as a free and accountable being, consists. The relation between\nthem is most intimate,--is inconceivably intimate; but the relation is\nnot the same in nature and kind as that which subsists between an effect\nand its efficient, or producing cause. The only relation of this kind,\nwhich is to be found in the case, is that which subsists between the\naction of the will, or the volition, and the corresponding change which\nit produces in the external part of our being. I say, we can very easily\nbelieve all this, as it implies no contradiction; and yet not feel\nourselves bound, by a regard for consistency, to believe that a world\nmay rise up out of nothing, and come into being of itself, without any\ncause of its existence. These things are blended together, in the\nphilosophy of the necessitarian, by a most convenient use of an\nambiguous phraseology; but they are, indeed, as widely different from\neach other as mystery is from absurdity,--as light is from darkness.\n\nBut the above maxim, as I have already said, may be grievously\nmisapplied; and thus the garb of intellectual humility may be thrown\nover the greatest absurdities. We may be told, for example, that the\nsame body may be wholly in one place, and wholly in a far distant place,\nat one and the same time; and, if we object to this doctrine, the\nmurmurings of reason are sought to be silenced, by reminding us, that it\nis exceedingly weak and presumptuous for poor blind creatures like\nourselves, to reject a truth because we cannot conceive how it is. In\nlike manner, we are informed that a volition, or an act of the will, may\nbe produced in the mind, may be necessitated, by the action of an\nextraneous cause; or, if you please, of an intrinsic cause; and if we\nask how this can be, without interfering with our free-agency, it is\nfrequently replied, that we cannot tell; but that it is exceedingly\nabsurd and presumptuous to disbelieve a thing because we cannot conceive\nhow it is. That God operates upon the mind, not to rectify and elevate\nits powers, but to produce a volition in it; not to cleanse and purify\nthe whole stream and current of our natures, but merely to throw up a\nbubble upon the surface thereof, for which _effect_ he holds us\naccountable: that he does this, we are told, is a great mystery, which\nwe should not presume to call in question. For my part, I had rather\nbelieve the doctrine of transubstantiation itself, than such a _mystery_\nas this.\n\nThere is some difference, I have supposed, between disbelieving a thing\nbecause we cannot see how it is, and disbelieving it, because we very\nclearly see that it cannot possibly be any how at all. It is upon this\ndistinction that I stand, when I receive the great mysteries of the\nGodhead, and reject the absurdities of transubstantiation. And it is\nupon the same ground, that I most freely and fully recognize and embrace\nthe great mysteries of our being, whilst I reject the absurdities of an\nefficiently caused and accountable agency.\n\nIs not this distinction properly applied? If the action or influence of\nany thing produces an effect upon the mind, is not that effect merely a\npassive impression? Is it not absurd to suppose, that it is a passive\nimpression, produced by the action of something else, and yet that it is\nan action of the mind itself? If so; and so I think it has been made to\nappear, then we not only should, but must, reject it. We must reject it,\nunless we suffer ourselves to be blinded by false analogies, and verbal\nambiguities.\n\nThis is not to deny the divine influence, as has been so often imagined.\nThe regeneration, the new creation, of the soul, by the power of God, is\nno more inconsistent with free and accountable agency, than was the\noriginal creation of it with all its powers; but this cannot be said of\nthe production of our acts or volitions by a divine influence. Those\nmust take an exceedingly narrow and superficial view of the great work\nof regeneration; who suppose that it is altogether denied, unless we\nadmit that the Spirit produces our volitions; who suppose that the\ndivine agency can in no way cleanse and purify our powers, unless it can\nsuperinduce a volition, or an act, upon our depraved natures. How many\npersons have laboured in vain, to reconcile the free-agency of man with\nthe reality of a divine influence; just because they have laboured under\nthe superficial notion, the grand illusion, that the Spirit of God\ncannot act upon the mind at all, unless it acts to produce a volition!\nIt is no wonder that they have laboured in vain, and abandoned the task\nin despair; because what they have taken for a seeming difficulty, is,\nwhen narrowly inspected, seen to be a real absurdity. Lay this aside,\nand there will be a mystery in the case, it is true; but there will not\nbe _even a seeming contradiction_.\n\nBut I do not intend to enter upon the subject of theology. This is\nentirely beside the purpose of the present work; and if I have touched\nupon it for a moment, it was only to show, by a passing glance, how very\neasy it were for any one, if he were so disposed, to draw false\nconclusions with respect to theology, from the views which have been\nadvanced in regard to the philosophy of the will. True, philosophy and\nreligion will always perfectly harmonize; but then he is very apt to be\na poor philosopher, who derives his philosophy from his religion; and he\na miserable theologian, who derives his religion from his philosophy. It\nwas in that way, that Edwards became a necessitarian; it is in this,\nthat many a necessitarian has become an infidel or an atheist.\n\n\n\nSECTION XVIII.\n\nOF THE TESTIMONY OF CONSCIOUSNESS.\n\nWHETHER our volitions come to pass in the manner we call freely, or are\nbrought to pass by the operation of necessary causes, is a question of\nfact, which should be referred to the tribunal of consciousness. If we\never hope to settle this question, we must occasionally turn from the\narena of dialectics, and unite our efforts in the cultivation of the\nmuch-neglected field of observation. We must turn from the dust and\nsmoke of mere logical contention, and consult the living oracle within;\nwe must behold the pure light that ever burns behind the darkened veil\nof disputation.\n\nThis appeal is not declined by the necessitarian. He consents to the\nappeal; and the dispute is, as to the true interpretation of the\ndecision of the tribunal in question. We contend that the testimony of\nconsciousness is clearly and unequivocally in favour of the doctrine of\nliberty, while our opponents allege the same evidence in their own\nfavour. Now, what is the real import of this testimony?\n\nIt is to be regretted that President Edwards has said so little on this\nsubject. He has disposed of it in one brief note; as if the nature of\nour mental operations were to be determined by abstract and universal\npropositions, or truisms, and observation consulted only to confirm our\npreconceived opinions. What little he has said on this subject, however,\nis sufficient to show with what faint hope of success the necessitarian\ncan venture to submit his cause to the tribunal of consciousness.\n\nThe testimony of consciousness, I have no doubt, might have been made\nmuch stronger in our favour, if the wrong question had not been\nsubmitted to it. All the advocates of free-agency, so far as I remember,\nhave said that we are conscious of freedom; that we are conscious of a\npower of contrary choice. Or, in other words, that when we put forth a\nvolition, we are conscious that we might forbear to do so. But this does\nnot seem to be the case. We are not conscious of what does not take\nplace in our minds; and hence, we are only conscious of the volition\nwhich we put forth. We are not even conscious of our power to act; this\nis necessarily inferred from the acts of which we are conscious. As we\ndo not then, according to the supposition, put forth the contrary\nchoice, we cannot be conscious of it, nor of the power to put it forth.\nBy referring this, therefore, to the tribunal of consciousness, it seems\nto me that most advocates of free-agency have rendered a disservice to\nthe cause which they have so ably supported in other respects. For the\nnecessitarian sees, that the doctrine of liberty, or the power of choice\nto the contrary, cannot be established by the direct testimony of\nconsciousness alone; and hence he strengthens himself in his own\nconvictions, by picking flaws in our evidence. He sees that we are not\nborne out by the testimony of consciousness, in regard to the point\nwhich we submit to it; and hence, he readily concludes that we are wrong\nin the whole matter. It is well, it is exceedingly important, to observe\nwhat are the strong points of our cause, upon which we can rest with\nunshaken confidence, and to take our stand upon them; giving up all\nuntenable positions.\n\nBy consciousness, then, we discover the existence of an act. We see no\ncause by which it is produced. If it were produced by the act or\noperation of any thing else, it would be a passive impression, and not\nan act of the mind itself. The mind would be wholly passive in relation\nto it, and it would not be an act at all. Whether it is produced by a\npreceding act of the mind, or by the action of any thing else, the mind\nwould be passive as to the effect produced. But we see, in the clear and\nunquestionable light of consciousness, that instead of being passive,\nthe mind is active in its volitions.--Hence, it follows by an inference\nas clear as noonday, and as irresistible as fate, that the action of the\nmind is not a produced effect. It is not a passive impression; and hence\nit does not, _it cannot_, result from the action of any thing else. To\nsay that it is produced by the action of something else upon the mind,\nis to say that it is a passive impression, and to deny that it is an\nact. We are simply conscious of an act then, and the irresistible\ninference which results from this fact, stands out in direct and eternal\nopposition to the doctrine of necessity.\n\nWhen we reflect upon the operation of the will, or of the mind in the\nact of willing, we simply find ourselves in possession of a volition. We\ndo not see how we come by this volition; how we come to exist in this\nstate of activity. On this point, I am happy to find that the\nconsciousness of President Edwards agreed with my own. \"It is true,\"\nsays he, \"I find myself possessed of my volitions before I can see the\neffectual power of any cause to produce them, for the power and efficacy\nof the cause is seen but by the _effect_, and this, for aught I know,\nmay make some imagine that volition has no cause, or that it produces\nitself.\"\n\nOur consciousness is precisely the same; but just observe how he\ninterprets it. He finds himself possessed of a _volition_; but does he\nlook at this volition to see what it is? Does he ask himself whether it\nis the same in nature and in kind with a produced effect? He does not.\nIt is most unquestionably a produced effect; this is beyond all doubt,\nand it is taken for granted. He sees no effectual power by which this\nvolition is produced; _but he knows it is a produced effect_, and\ntherefore he knows it must have a producing cause. The oracle is not\nconsulted on this point at all. It would be an insult to reason to\nconsult the great oracle of nature on so plain a point as this. This has\nbeen decided long ago, and the ear is deaf to any response that might\npossibly contravene so clear a decision. Thus it is that the\nnecessitarian goes to the true oracle within, and delivers oracles\nhimself.\n\nHe reasons not from the observed, but from the assumed, nature of a\nvolition. It must be an effect, says he, and though I do not see \"the\neffectual power by which it is produced;\" yet there must be such a\npower. Yes, it is just as absurd to suppose that it can exist, without\nbeing produced by the effectual power of something operating upon the\nmind, as it is to suppose that a world can create itself!\n\nBut as we appeal to consciousness, let us pay some little attention to\nits teaching. We find ourselves, then, possessed of a volition; we find\nour minds in a state of acting. This is all we discover by the light of\nconsciousness. We see \"not the effectual power of any cause\" operating to\nproduce it. What shall we conclude then? Shall we conclude that there\n_must_ be some cause to produce it? This were not to study nature, as\n\"the humble servants and interpreters thereof;\" but to approach it in\nthe attitude of dictators.\n\nIf we draw such an inference at all, it must be from the fact, it seems,\nthat volition is a produced effect. But is it such an effect? What says\nconsciousness upon this point? We have already repeatedly seen, what\nevery man may see, that a volition is not the passive result of any\nprior action; it is action itself. It is not a produced effect; it is a\nproducing cause. It is not _determined_ at all; it is simply a\n_determination_. As it stands out in the light of consciousness, it is\nas perfectly distinct from the idea of an effect, as any one thing can\npossibly be from another; and if it has not so appeared to every\nreflecting mind, it is because it has not been simply looked at, and\nbeheld as it is in itself, but has been viewed through the medium of a\ncertain fixed notion, a certain preconceived form of thought, a certain\ngrand illusion, by which the witchery of the senses has blinded the eye\nof consciousness. Every change in the external world requires a\nproducing cause; who then can possibly conceive of a volition as\nexisting upon any other terms or conditions! It is this fallacy, this\nbegging of the question, this perpetual declaration that it is\nself-evident, that has, through a natural illusion of the senses, spread\nthe scheme of necessity far and wide over the minds of men. It is this\ngrand illusion of the senses, or, if you please, of the mind, that has\nbrought \"the dictates of reason,\" as they have been called, into\nconflict with the testimony of consciousness.\n\nThe doctrine of liberty is as inevitably connected with the _observed_\nnature of a volition, as that of necessity is connected with its assumed\nnature. I would not say that we are conscious of liberty; for that would\nnot be correct; but I will say, that we are conscious of that which\nnecessarily leads to the conviction that we are free, that we have a\npower of contrary choice. I would not say with Dr. Clarke, that liberty\nconsists in a power to act; but I will say, that it necessarily results\nfrom it. I would not say, that we are conscious of the existence of no\nproducing cause of our volitions; for we cannot be conscious of that\nwhich does not exist. But I will say, that as we are conscious of the\nexistence of an act, so we see and do know that this is not a passive\nimpression, or a produced effect. And as we are not compelled to act, so\nwe know that we may act or may not act, so we know that our actions are\nnot necessitated, but may be put forth or withheld. This is liberty,\nthis is \"a power of contrary choice.\" This idea of liberty, I say,\nfollows from the fact of consciousness that we do act, by an inference\nas clear as noonday; by an inference so natural, so direct, and so\ninconceivably rapid, that it has often been supposed to be included in\nthe testimony of consciousness itself. No man could help the conclusion,\nif he would only allow his reason to speak for itself.\n\nIs this doctrine any the less certain, because it is a matter of\ninference? It will be conceded that it is not. The most unquestionable\nfacts in the universe are made known by the same kind of evidence. It is\nsometimes said, that we are conscious of our own existence; but this is\nnot to use language with philosophical precision. We are merely\nconscious of the existence of thought, of feeling, of volition; and we\nare so made, that we are compelled to believe that there is something\nwhich thinks, and feels, and wills. It is thus, by what has been called\na fundamental law of belief, that we arrive at the knowledge of the\nexistence of our minds. In like manner, from the fact of consciousness\nthat we do act, or put forth volitions, we are forced, by a fundamental\nlaw of belief, to yield to the conviction that we are free. This\ninference as necessarily results from the observed phenomena of the\nmind, as the existence of the mind itself results from the same\nphenomena. And if the doctrine of the necessitarian were true, that\nvolition is a produced effect, we should never infer from it that we\nhave _a power of acting_ at all; we should simply infer that we are\n_susceptible of passive impressions_.\n\nI have said, that we are not conscious that there is no producing cause\nof volition. No man can be conscious of that which does not exist.\nHence, it is highly absurd to require us to furnish the evidence of\nconsciousness that there is no such cause of volition. It cannot testify\nto any such universal negative; and one might as well require a\nmathematical demonstration of the point in dispute, as to demand such\nevidence from us. And yet, President Edwards declares, that by\nexperience he knows nothing like the doctrine, that \"any volition arises\nin his mind contingently;\" that is to say, he was not conscious that a\nvolition has _no producing_ cause of its existence. Did he expect that\nwe should prove the non-existence of a thing by the direct evidence of\nconsciousness? All that he could reasonably expect in such a case is,\nthat we should not be conscious of any such influence; and this\nPresident Edwards himself admits. He admits, that we do not see the\n\"effectual power of any cause,\" or feel its influence, operating to\nproduce a volition: he merely infers this from the assumption that\nvolition is a produced effect.\n\nHe also says, I find \"that the acts of my will are my own; i. e. that\nthey are acts of my will--the volitions of my own mind; or, in other\nwords, that what I will, I will; which, I suppose, is the sum of what\nothers experience in this affair.\" Surely, no one was ever so silly as\nto deny that what a man wills, he wills; and if this is all that\nconsciousness teaches on the subject, its information can throw no light\nupon this or upon any other controversy. This proposition, that a man\nwills what he wills, is independent of all experience and all\nconsciousness. It is an identical proposition, which experience can\nneither shake nor confirm. We may see, nay, we must see, that each and\nevery thing in the universe is what it is, without any reference to\nconsciousness or experience.\n\nIndeed, it is as absurd to appeal to experience or consciousness for the\ntruth of such a universal and self-evident axiom, as it is to appeal to\nuniversal and self-evident axioms, to ascertain and determine the\n_nature_ of our mental phenomena,--of the states and processes of the\nmind. Edwards has done both: he has deduced the truth of the\nproposition, that a man wills what he wills, from the evidence of\nconsciousness or experience, as the sum of all its teaching; and he has\nestablished the fact, that a volition is produced by the operation of an\neffectual power, by an appeal to a universal axiom. He has submitted a\ntruism, which declines every test of its truth, to the tribunal of\nconsciousness; and he has determined the nature of a volition, as well\nas the manner of its production, by the application of a similar truism,\nwhich contains no conceivable information respecting the nature of any\nthing in the universe.\n\nEdwards says, \"I find myself possessed of my volitions.\" He was\nconscious of his own acts. This is a sufficient foundation for the\ndoctrine of liberty; for such a consciousness is utterly irreconcilable\nwith the supposition that those acts are produced by the operation of\nefficient causes. To say that they are \"my acts,\" and yet to say that\nthey are produced by the action of something else, is, as we have\nrepeatedly seen, to say that they are my acts, and at the same time to\nsay that they are not my _acts_, but _effects_ produced upon my mind.\nThis very admission, therefore, lays the foundation of the doctrine of\nliberty. And hence, it has been supposed that Edwards himself was an\nadvocate of this doctrine; because he has spoken of the soul as exerting\nits own volitions. From such an admission, it has been concluded by some\nof his admirers, that he really regarded the mind as the \"efficient\ncause of its own acts,\" and \"motives as merely the occasions on which it\nacts.\" But such an admission only proves, that his consciousness cannot\nbe reconciled with his theory. His consciousness lays the foundation of\nliberty; but he does not build thereon. On the contrary, he lays the\nfoundation of his system in universal abstractions, and not in observed\nfacts; and hence, as it is not derived from an observation of nature, so\nit can never be brought into harmony with the dictates and operations of\nnature. It is altogether a thing of definitions and words; and as such\nit must pass away, when men shall cease to construct for themselves, and\ncome forward as \"the humble servants and interpreters of nature,\" to\nstudy the world of mind upon the true principles of the inductive\nmethod.\n\nEdwards did not observe the intellectual world just as it has been\nconstructed by the Almighty, and narrowly watch it in its workings; he\nonly reasoned about it and about it; and hence, he was necessarily\ndevoted to blindness. With all his gigantic power, he was necessarily\ncompelled to go around, eternally, upon the treadmill of a merely\ndialectical philosophy, which of itself can yield no fruit, instead of\ngoing forth to the harvest upon the rich and boundless field of\ndiscovery. Why should the failure of other times, resulting from such a\ncourse, inspire us with despair? We hope for better results, not from\nbetter minds, but from better methods. Socrates dissuaded the men of his\ntime from the study of nature, alleging that \"the wonderful art\"\nwherewith the heavens had been constructed, was concealed from their\neyes; and that it was displeasing to the gods, that men should so vainly\nstrive to pry into mysteries which are so far above their reach.\nFaint-hearted sage! Though Bacon had beheld the genius and labour of two\nthousand years after Socrates had been laid in the dust, wasted upon the\nsame great problem, yet did not the unconquerable ardour of his hope\ndroop for a moment. Rising aloft, even from the wild waste which men had\nmade of their powers in all times past, he poured down the floods of his\nindignation upon those who are thus ready and willing to devote mankind\nto darkness and despair. Inspired by his philosophy, and pursuing his\nmethod, the more than immortal Newton did not fear, cautiously yet\nboldly, humbly yet hopefully, to pry into \"the wonderful art\" wherewith\nthe Almighty has constructed the heavens; and the great problem which\nSocrates had so timidly, yet so rashly, pronounced to lie beyond the\nreach of man, did this humble student of nature most triumphantly solve;\nshowing, to the admiration of the world and the glory of God, that that\nwonderful art is infinitely more wonderful than any thing which had ever\nbeen dreamed of in the philosophy of antiquity. How great soever, then,\nthe failure of times past may have been, we should not despair. Nor\nshould we listen, for a moment, to those who are ever ready to declare,\nthat the great problem of the intellectual system of the universe is not\nwithin the reach of the human faculties.\n\n_Note_.--The edition of Edwards' works quoted in this volume, is that by\nG. & C. & H. Carvill, New York, 1830.\n\n\n\n\n\n<pre id=\"pg-footer\">","title":"An Examination of President Edwards' Inquiry into the Freedom of the Will","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":68055}