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A REVIEW OF EDWARDS'S

"INQUIRY

INTO THE

FREEDOM OF THE WILL.*'

CONTAINING

I. STATEMENT OF EDWARDS'S SYSTEM.
II. THE LEGITIMATE CONSEQUENCES OF THIS SYSTEM.
III. AN EXAMINATION OF THE ARGUMENTS AGAINST A SELF-
DETERMINING WILL.

BY HENRY PHILIP TAPPAN.

I am afraid th«lf Edwards's book (however wett rivKanl,) has done much
harm in Enjland/as it ha3 secured a favourable hearing to the same doc-
trincs, which, sihca^tha, time of Clarke, had been generally ranked among
the most dangerous errocs of Hobbes and his disciples." — Dugald Stewart.

NEW-YORK :
JOHN S. TAYLOR,

THEOLOGICAL PUBLISHER AND BOOKSELLER,
BRICK CHURCH CHAPEL,

1839.

Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the yoar 1839, by

HENRY PHILIP TAPPAN,

in the Clerk's Office of tho District Court of the United States, for the

Southern District of New-York.

2 sr/3 *-

Q, F. Hopkine, Printer, 2 Ann-street.

INTRODUCTION.

Discussions respecting the will, have, unhappily,
been confounded with theological opinions, and
hence have led to theological controversies, where
predilections for a particular school or sect, have
generally prejudged the conclusions of philosophy.
As a part of the mental constitution, the will must
be subjected to the legitimate methods of psycho-
logical investigation, and must abide the result.
If we enter the field of human consciousness in
the free, fearless, and honest spirit of Baconian
observation in order to arrive at the laws of the
reason or the imagination, what should prevent
us from pursuing the same enlightened course in
reference to the will I

Is it because responsibility and the duties of
morality and religion are more immediately con-

IV INTRODUCTION.

nectcd with the will ? This, indeed, throws so-
lemnity around our investigations, and warns us
of caution ; but, at the same time, so far from re-
pressing investigation, it affords the highest reason
why we should press it to the utmost limit of con-
sciousness. Nothing surely can serve more to
fix our impressions of moral obligation, or to open
our eye to the imperishable truth and excellency
of religion, than a clear and ripe knowledge of
that, which makes us the subjects of duty. As
a believer in philosophy, I claim unbounded liberty
of thought, and by thinking I hope to arrive at
truth. As a believer in the Bible I always antici-
pate that the truths to which philosophy leads
me, will harmonize with its facts and doctrines.
If in the result there should appear to be a colli-
sion, it imposes upon me the duty of re-examining
both my philosophy and my interpretation of the
text. In this way I may in the end remove the
difficulty, and not only so, but even gain from the
temporary and apparent collision, a deeper insight
into both philosophy and religion. If the difficul-

INTRODUCTION. V

ty cannot be removed, then it remains a vexed
point. It does not follow, however, that I must
either renounce the philosophical conclusion, or
remove the text.

If the whole of philosophy or its leading truths
were in opposition to the whole of revelation or
its leading truths, we should then evidently be
placed on the alternative of denying one or the
other ; but as the denial of philosophy would be
the destruction of reason, there would no longer
remain in our being any principle on which a re-
velation could be received. Such a collision
would therefore disprove the claims of any sys-
tem to be from Heaven. But let us suppose, on
the other hand, that with every advance of phi-
losophy the facts of the Bible are borne aloft, and
their divine authority and their truth made more
manifest, have we not reason to bless the re-
searches which have enabled us to perceive more
clearly the light from Heaven? A system of
truth does not fear, it courts philosophical scruti-
ny. Its excellency will be most resplendent

1*

VI INTRODUCTION.

when it lias had the most fiery trial of thought.
Nothing would so weaken my faith in the Bible
as the fact of being compelled to tremble for its
safety whenever I claimed and exercised the pre-
rogative of reason. And what I say of it as a
whole, I say of doctrines claiming to be derived
from it.

Theologists are liable to impose upon them-
selves when they argue from the truths of the
Bible to the truths of their philosophy ; either un-
der the view that the last are deducible from the
former, or that they serve to account for and
confirm the former. How often is their philoso-
phy drawn from some other source, or handed
down by old authority, and rendered venerable
by associations arbitrary and accidental ; and in-
stead of sustaining the simplicity of the Bible, the
doctrine is perhaps cast into the mould of the
philosophy.

It is a maxim commended by reason and con-
firmed by experience, that in pursuing our inves-
tigations in any particular science we are to con-

INTRODUCTION. Vll

fine ourselves rigorously to its subjects and meth-
ods, neither seeking nor fearing collision with any
other science. We may feel confident that ulti-
mately science will be found to link with science,
forming a universal and harmonious system of
truth ; but this can by no means form the princi-
ple of our particular investigations. The appli-
cation of this maxim is no less just and necessary
where a philosophy or science holds a relation to
revelation. It js a matter of the highest interest
that in the developements of such philosophy or
science, it should be found to harmonize with the
revelation ; but nevertheless this cannot be re-
ceived as the principle on which we shall aim to
develope it. If there is a harmony, it must be
discovered ; it cannot be invented and made.

The Cardinals determined upon the authority
of Scripture, as they imagined, what the science
of astronomy must be, and compelled the old
man Gallileo to give the lie to his reason ; and
since then, the science of geology has been at-
tempted, if not to be settled, at least to be limited

VIU INTRODUCTION.

in its researches in the same way. Science,
however, has pursued her steady course resistless-
ly, settling her own bounds and methods, and se-
lecting her own fields, and giving to the world
her own discoveries. And is the truth of the Bi-
ble unsettled ? No. The memory of Gallileo
and of Cuvicr is blessed by the same lips which
name the name of Christ.

Now we ask the same independence of research
in the philosophy of the human mind, and no less
with respect to the Will than with respect to any
other faculty. We wish to make this purely a
psychological question. Let us not ask what phi-
losophy is demanded by Calvinism in opposition
to Pelagianism and Arminianism, or by the lat-
ter in opposition to the former ; let us ask simply
for the laws of our being. In the end we may
present another instance of truth honestly and
fearlessly sought in the legitimate exercise of our
natural reason, harmonizing with truths revealed.

One thing is certain ; the Bible no more pro-
fesses to be a system of formal mental philoso-

INTRODUCTION. IX

phy, than it professes to contain the sciences of
astronomy and geology. If mental philosophy is
given there, it is given in facts of history, indi-
vidual and national, in poetry, prophecy, law, and
ethics : and as thus given, must be collected into
a system by observation and philosophical criti-
cism.

But observations upon these external facts could
not possibly be made independently of observations
upon internal facts — the facts of the conscious-
ness ; and the principles of philosophical criticism
can be obtained only in the same way. To him
who looks not within himself, poetry, history, law,
ethics, and the distinctions of character and con-
duct, would necessarily be unintelligible. No
one therefore can search the Bible for its philoso-
phy, who has not already read philosophy in his
own being. We shall find this amply confirmed
in the whole history of theological opinion. Eve-
ry interpreter of the Bible, every author of a creed,
every founder of a sect, plainly enough reveals
both the principles of his philosophy and their in-

* INTRODUCTION.

flucnce upon himself. Every man who reflects
and aims to explain, is necessarily a philosopher,
and has his philosophy. Instead therefore of pro-
fessing to oppose the Bible to philosophy, or in-
stead of the pretence of deducing our philosophy
solely and directly from the Bible, let us openly
declare that we do not discard philosophy, but
seek it in its own native fields ; and that inasmuch
as it has a being and a use, and is related to all that
we know and do, we are therefore determined to
pursue it in a pure, truth-loving spirit.

I am aware, however, that the doctrine of the
will is so intimately associated with great and
venerable names, and has so long worn a theo-
logical complexion, that it is well nigh impossible
to disintegrate it. The authority of great and
good men, and theological interests, even when
we are disposed to be candid, impartial, and in-
dependent, do often insensibly influence our rea-
sonings.

It is out of respect to these old associations and
prejudices, and from the wish to avoid all unne-

INTRODUCTION. XI

cessary strangeness of manner in handling an old
subject, and more than all, to meet what are re-
garded by many as the weightiest and most con-
clusive reasonings on this subject, that I open this
discussion with a review of M Edwards's Inquiry
into the Freedom of the Will." There is no work
of higher authority among those who deny the
self-determining power of the will ; and none
which on this subject has called forth more gene-
ral admiration for acuteness of thought and logi-
cal subtelty. I believe ttiere is a prevailing im-
pression that Edwards must be fairly met in order
to make any advance in an opposite argument. I
propose no less than this attempt, presumptuous
though it may seem, yet honest and made for
truth's sake. Truth is greater and more venera-
ble than the names of great and venerable men,
or of great and venerable sects: and I cannot be-
lieve that I seek truth with a proper love and
veneration, unless I seek her, confiding in herself
alone, neither asking the authority of men in her
support, nor fearing a collision with them, how-

ill INTRODUCTION.

ever great their authority may be. It is my inter-
est to think and believe aright, no less than to act
aright : and as right action is meritorious not
when compelled and accidental, but when free
and made under the perception and conviction of
right principles; so also right thinking and believ-
ing are meritorious, either in an intellectual or
moral point of view, when thinking and believing
are something more than gulping down dogmas
because Austin, or Calvin, or Arminius, presents
the cup.

Facts of history or of description are legitimate-
ly received on testimony, but truths of our moral
and spiritual being can be received only on the
evidence of consciousness, unless the testimony be
from God himself; and even in this case we ex-
pect that the testimony, although it may tran-
scend consciousness, shall not contradict it. The
internal evidence of the Bible under the highest
point of view, lies in this : that although there be
revelations of that which transcends conscious-
ness, yet wherever the truths come within the

INTRODUCTION. XI11

sphere of consciousness, there is a perfect harmo-
ny between the decisions of developed reason
and the revelation.

Now in the application of these principles, if
Edwards have given us a true psychology in re-
lation to the will, we have the means of knowing
it. In the consciousness, and in the conscious-
ness alone, can a doctrine of the will be ultimate-
ly and adequately tested. Nor must we be in-
timidated from making this test by the assump-
tion that the theory of Edwards alone sustains
moral responsibility and evangelical religion. Mor-
al responsibility and evangelical religion, if sus-
tained and illustrated by philosophy, must take a
philosophy which has already on its own grounds
proved itself a true philosophy. Moral responsi-
bility and evangelical religion can derive no sup-
port from a philosophy which they are taken first
to prove.

But although I intend to conduct my argu-
ment rigidly on psychological principles, I shall
endeavour in the end to show that moral respon-
2

XIV INTRODUCTION.

sibility is really sustained by this exposition of
the will; and that I have not, to say the least,
weakened one of the supports of evangelical reli-
gion, nor shorn it of one of its glories.

The plan of my undertaking embraces the fol-
lowing particulars :

I. A statement of Edwards's system.

II. The legitimate consequences of this sys-
tem.

III. An examination of the arguments against
a self-determining will.

IV. The doctrine of the will determined by
an appeal to consciousness.

V. This doctrine viewed in connexion with
moral agency and responsibility.

VI. This doctrine viewed in connexion with
the truths and precepts of the Bible.

The first three complete the review of Edwards,
and make up the present volume. Another vol-
ume is in the course of preparation.

A STATEMENT OF EDWARDS'S SYSTEM.

Edwards's System, or, in other words, his Philo-
sophy of the Will, is contained in part I. of his
" Inquiry into the Freedom of the Will.'' This
part comprises five sections, which I shall give
with their titles in his own order. My object is
to arrive at truth. I shall therefore use my best
endeavours to make this statement with the ut-
most clearness and fairness. In this part of my
work, my chief anxiety is to have Edwards per-
fectly understood. My quotations are made from
the edition published by S. Converse, New-York,
1829.

"Sec I. — Concerning the Nature of tub
Will."

Edwards under this title gives his definition of
the will. "TAe will is, that by which the mind
chooses anything. The faculty of the will, is
that power, or principle of mind, by which it is

i<T

STATKMLMT Ol

capable of choosing: an act of the uill is the
same as an act of choosing or choice" (p. 15.)

He then identifies "choosing" and "refusing:"
" In every act of refusal the mind chooses the
absence of the thing refused." (p. 1G.)

The will is thus the faculty of choice. Choice
manifests itself either in relation to one object or
several objects. Where there is but one object,
its possession or non-possession — its enjoyment
or non-enjoyment — its presence or absence, is
chosen. Where there are several objects, and
they are so incompatible that the possession, en-
joyment, or presence of one, involves the refusal
of the others, then choice manifests itself in fixing
upon the particular object to be retained, and the
objects to be set aside.

This definition is given on the ground that any
object being regarded as positive, may be con-
trasted with its negative : and that therefore the
refusing a negative is equivalent to choosing a
positive ; and the choosing a negative, equivalent
to refusing a positive, and vice versa. Thus if
the presence of an object be taken as positive, its
absence is negative. To refuse the presence is
therefore to choose the absence ; and to choose
the presence, to refuse the absence : so that every
act of choosing involves refusing, and every act

edwards's system. 17

of refusing involves choosing ; in other words,
they are equivalents.

Object of Will.

The object in respect to which the energy of
choice is manifested, inducing external action, or
the action of any other faculty of the mind, is al-
ways an immediate object. Although other objects
may appear desirable, that alone is the object of
choice which is the occasion of present action —
that alone is chosen as the subject of thought on
which I actually think — that alone is chosen as
the object of muscular exertion respecting which
muscular exertion is made. That is, every act of
choice manifests itself by producing some change
or effect in some other part of our being. " The
thing next chosen or preferred, when a man wills
to walk, is not his being removed to such a place
where he would be, but such an exertion*and mo-
tion of his legs and feet, &c. in order to it." The
same principle applies to any mental exertion.

Will and Desire.

Edwards never opposes will and desire. The
only distinction that can possibly be made is that
2*

18 STATEMENT OF

of genus and species. They are the same in kind.
'•1 do not suppose that wUl and desire are words
of precisely the same signification: will seems to
be a word of a more general signification, extend-
ing to things present and absent. Desire respects
something absent. But yet I cannot think they
are so entirely distinct that they can ever be prop-
erly said to run counter. A man never, in any in-
stance, wills anything contrary to his desires, or
desires anything contrary to his will. The thing
which he wills, the very same he desires ; and he
does not will a thing and desire the contrary in
any particular." (p. 17.) The immediate object
of will, — that object, in respect of which choice
manifests itself by producing effects, — is also the
object of desire ; that is, of supreme desire, at that
moment : so that, the object chosen is the object
which appears most desirable ; and the object
which appears most desirable is always the object
chosen. *To produce an act of choice, therefore,
we have only to awaken a preponderating desire. *
Now it is plain, that desire cannot be distinguished
from passion. That which we love, we desire to
be present, to possess, to enjoy : that which we
hate, we desire to be absent, or to be affected in
some way. The loving an object, and the desir-
ing its enjoyment, arc identical : the hating it, and

X

edwards's system. 19

desiring its absence or destruction, or any similar
affection of it, are likewise identical. The will,
therefore, is not to be distinguished, at least in
hind, from the emotions and passions : this will ap-
pear abundantly as we proceed. In other works
he expressly identifies them : " I humbly conceive,
that the affections of the soul are not properly dis-
tinguishable from the will ; as though they were
two faculties of soul." (Revival of Religion in New
England, part I.)

" God has endued the soul with two faculties :
one is that by which it is capable of perception
and speculation, or by which it discerns, and
views, and judges of things; which is called the
understanding. The other faculty is that by
which the soul does not merely perceive and view
things, but is in some way inclined with respect
to the things it views or considers; either is in-
clined to then, or is disinclined or averse from
them. This faculty is called by various names :
it is sometimes called inclination ; and as it has
respect to the actions that are determined or gov-
erned by it, is called will. The will and the
affections of the soul are not two faculties : the
affections are not essentially distinct from the
will, nor do they differ from the mere actings of
the will and inclination of the soul, but only in

TS

20 STATEMENT OP

the liveliness and scnsiblcncss of exercise." (Tlie
Nature of the Affections, part I.) That Edwards
makes but two faculties of the mind, the under-
standing and the will, as well as identifies the
will and the passions, is fully settled by the above
quotation.

" Sec. II. — Concerning the Determination
of Will."

Meaning of the term.

"By determining the will, if the phrase be
used with any meaning, must be intended, caus-
ing that the act of the will or choice should be
thus and not otherwise ; and the will is said to
be determined, when in consequence of some ac-
tion or influence, its choice is directed to, and
fixed upon, some particular object. As when we
speak of the determination of motion, we mean
causing the motion of the body to be in such a
direction, rather than in another. The determi-
nation of the will supposes an effect, which must
have a cause. If the will be determined, there
is a determiner."

Now the causation of choice and the determi-
nation of the will are here intended to be distin-

EDWAKDS'S SYSTEM. 21

wuished, no more than the causation of motion
and the determination of the moving body. The
cause setting a body in motion, likewise gives it
a direction ; and where there are several causes,
a composition of the forces takes place, and de-
termines both the extent and direction of the mo-
tion. So also the cause acting upon the will or
the faculty of choice, in producing a choice deter-
mines its direction ; indeed, choice cannot be con-
ceived of, without also conceiving of something
chosen, and where something is chosen, the direc-
tion of the choice is determined, that is, the will
is determined. And where there are several
causes acting upon the will, there is here like-
wise a composition of the mental forces, and the
choice or the determination of the will takes place
accordingly. (See p. 23.) Choice or volition then
being an effect must have a cause. What is this
cause ?

Motive.

The cause of volition or choice is called motive.
A cause setting a body in motion is properly called
the motive of the body ; hence, analogously, a
cause exciting the will to choice is called the mo-
tive of the will. By long usage the proper sense

22 STATEMENT OP

of motive is laid aside, and it lias come now to ex-
press only the cause or reason of volition. "By
motive I mean the whole of that which moves,
excites, or invites the mind to volition, whether
that be one thing singly, or many things conjointly-
And when I speak of the strongest motive, I have
respect to the strength of the whole that operates
to induce a particular act of volition, whether that
be the strength of one thing alone, or of many to-
gether." And " that motive which, as it stands in
view of the mind, is the strongest, determines the
will." (p. 19.) This is general, and means no-
thing more than — 1. the cause of volition is called
motive ; 2. that where there are several causes or
motives of volition, the strongest cause prevails ;
3. the cause is often complex ; 4. in estimating the
strength of the cause, if it be complex, all the par-
ticulars must be considered in their co-operation ;
and, 5. the strength of the motive "stands in view
of the mind," that is, it is something which the
mind knows or is sensible of.

What constitutes the strength of Motive ?

" Everything that is properly called a motive,
excitement, or inducement, to a perceiving, wil-
ling agent, has some sort and degree of tendency

edwards's system. 23

or advantage to move or excite the will, previous
to the effect, or to the act of will excited. This
previous tendency of the motive is what 1 call the
strength of the motive." When different objects
are presented to the mind, they awaken certain
emotions, and appear more or less "inviting."
(p. 20.) In the impression thus at once produced,
we perceive their " tendency or advantage to
move or excite the will." It is a preference or
choice anticipated, an instantaneous perception of
a quality in the object which we feel would deter-
mine our choice, if we were called upon to make
a choice. The object is felt to be adapted to the
state of the mind, and the state of the mind to the
object. They are felt to be reciprocal.

\Yliat is this quality which makes tip the previous
tendency ?

" Whatever is perceived or apprehended by an
intelligent and voluntary agent, which has the na-
ture and influence of a motive to volition or choice,
is considered or viewed as good ; nor has it any
tendency to engage the election of the soul in any
further degree than it appears such." Now, as
the will is determined by the strongest motive ;
and as the strength of motive lies in the previous

21 STATEMENT OP

tendency; and as the previous tendency is made
up of the quality of goodness ; and as the highest
degree of this quality in any given case makes the
strongest motive ; therefore, it follows that the
" will is always as the greatest apparent good
is" (p. 20.)

Tlie sense in which the term "good" is used.

"I use the term 'good' as of the same import
with 'agreeable.' To appear good to the mind, as
I use the phrase, is the same as to appear agree-
able, or seem pleasing to the mind. If it tends to
draw the inclination and move the will, it must
be under the notion of that which suits the mind.
And therefore that must have the greatest ten-
dency to attract and engage it. which, as it stands
in the mind's view, suits it best, and pleases it
most ; and in that sense is the greatest apparent
good. The word good in this sense includes the
avoiding of evil, or of that which is disagreeable
and uneasy.'' (p. 20.)

It follows then that the will is always deter-
mined by that which see?tis jnost p>lcasing or ap-
pears most agreeable to the mind.

This conclusion is in perfect accordance with
the position with which Edwards set out: that

edwards's system. 25

will is always as the preponderating desire ; in-
deed, that the will is the same in kind with de-
sire, or with the affections ; and an act of will or
choice, nothing more than the strongest desire in
reference to an immediate object, and a desire
producing an effect in our mental or physical be-
ing. The determination of will is the strongest
excitement of passion. That which determines
will is the cause of passion. The strength of the
cause lies in its perceived tendency to excite the
passions and afford enjoyment. As possessing
this tendency, it is called good, or pleasing, or
agreeable ; that is, suiting the state of the mind
or the condition of the affections.

The "good" which forms the characteristic of
a cause or motive is an immediate good, or a good
" in the present view of the mind." (p. 21.) Thus
a drunkard, before he drinks, maybe supposed to
weigh against each other the present pleasure of
drinking and the remote painful consequences:
and the painful consequences may appear to him
to be greater than the present pleasure. But
still the question truly in his mind, when he comes
to drink, respects the present act of drinking only ;
and if this seems to him most pleasing, then he
drinks. " If he wills to drink, then drinking is the
proper object of the act of his will ; and drink-
3

2G STATEMENT OF

ing, on some account or other, now appears most
agreeable to him, and suits him best. If he
chooses to refrain, then refraining is the imme-
diate object of his will, and is most pleasing to
Ipiii." The reasoning is, that when the drunkard
drinks, we are not to conclude that he has chosen
future misery over future good, but that the act
of drinking, in itself, is the object of choice ; so
that, in the view he has taken of it, it is to him
the greatest apparent good. In general we may
say, in accordance with this principle, that when-
ever the act of choice takes place, the object of
that act comes up before the mind in such a way
as to seem most pleasing to the mind ; it is at the
moment, and in the immediate relation, the great-
est apparent good. The man thus never chooses
what is disagreeable, but always what is agree-
able to him.

Proper use of the term most agreeable, in
relation to the Will.

"I have chosen rather to express myself thus,
that the will always is as the greatest apparent
good, or as what appears most agreeable, than to
say the will is determined by the greatest appa-
rent good, or by what seems most agreeable ; be-

Edwards's system. -~

cause an appearing most agreeable to the mind,
and the mind's preferring, seem scarcely distinct.
If strict propriety of speech be insisted on, it may
more properly be said, that the voluntary action,
which is the immediate consequence of the mind's
choice, is determined by that which appears most
agreeable, than the choice itself." (p. 21, 22.)
Here the perception or sense of the ?nost agreeable
is identified in express terms with volition or
choice. " The will is as the most agreeable," —
that is, the determination of icill, which means its
actual choice, as a fact of the consciousness is em-
braced in the sense of the most agreeable ; and as
the voluntary action, or the action, or change, or
effect, following volition, in any part of our be-
ing,— as to walk, or talk, or read, or think, — has
its cause in the volition, or the " mind's choice," —
so it is entirely proper to say, either that this
voluntary action is determined by the voli-
tion or that it is determined by the sense of
the most agreeable. Edwards's meaning plain-
ly is, that the terms are convertible : volition may
be called the cause of voluntary action, or the
sense of the most agreeable may be called the
cause. This is still a carrying out of the position,
that the icill is as the desire. " The greatest
apparent good" being identical with "the most

28 STATEMENT OF

agreeable," and this again being identical with
the most desirable, it must follow, that whenever,
in relation to any object, the mind is affected with
the sense of the most agreeable, it presents the
phenomenon of "volition" or "choice;"' and still
farther, that which is chosen is the most agreea-
ble object, and is known to be such by the sim-
ple fact that it is chosen ; for its being chosen,
means nothing more than that it affects the mind
with the sense of the most agreeable, — and the
most agreeable is that which is chosen, and can-
not be otherwise than chosen ; for its being most
agreeable, means nothing more than that it is the
object of the mind's choice or sense of the most
agreeable. The object, and the mind regarded
as a sensitive or willing power, are correlatives,
and choice is the unition of both : so that if we
regard choice as characterizing the object, then
the object is affirmed to be the most agreeable ;
and if, on the other side, we regard choice as
characterizing the mind, then the mind is affirmed
to be affected with the sense of the most agree-
able.

Cause of Choice, or of the sense of the most
agreeable.

"Volition itself is always determined by that

EDWARDS'S SYSTEM.

in or about the mind's view of the object, which
causes it to appear most agreeable. I say in or
about the ?nind's viae of the object ; because what
has influence to render an object in view agreea-
ble, is not only what appears in the object view-
ed, but also the manner of the view, and the
state and circumstances of the mind that views."
(p. 22.)

Choice being the unition of the mind's sensi-
tivity and the object, — that is, being an affection
of the sensitivity, by reason of its perfect agree-
ment and correlation with the object, and of
course of the perfect agreement and correlation
of the object with the sensitivity, — in determin-
ing the cause of choice, we must necessarily look
both to the mind and the object. Edwards ac-
cordingly gives several particulars in relation to
each.

I. In relation to the object, the sense of the
most agreeable, or choice, will depend upon, —

1. The beauty of the object, "viewing it as it
is in itself," independently of circumstances.

2. " The apparent degree of pleasure or trouble
attending the object, or the consequence of it," or
the object taken with its "concomitants" and con-
sequences.

3. " The apparent state of the pleasure or trou-

3*

80 STATEMENT OP

blc that appears with respect to distance of time.
It is a thing in itself agreeable to the mind, to
have pleasure speedily ; and disagreeable to have
it delayed." (p. 22.)

II. In relation to mind, the sense of agreeable-
ness will depend, first, upon the manner of the
mind's view ; secondly, upon the state of mind.
Edwards, under the first, speaks of the object
as connected with future pleasure. Here the
manner of the mind's view will have influence in
two respects :

1. The certainty or uncertainty which the
mind judges to attach to the pleasure ;

2. The liveliness of the sense, or of the ima-
gination, which the mind has of it.

Now these may be in different degrees, com-
pounded with different degrees of pleasure, con-
sidered in itself; and "the agreeableness of a
proposed object of choice will be in a degree some
way compounded of the degree of good supposed
by the judgement, the degree of apparent proba-
bility or certainty of that good, and the degree of
liveliness of the idea the mind has of that good."
(p. 23.)

Secondly : In reference to objects generally,
whether connected with present or future pleas-
ure, the sense of agreeableness will depend also

edvvards's system. 31

upon " the state of the mind which views a pro-
posed object of choice." (p. 24.) Here we have
to consider U the particular temper which the
mind has by nature, or that has been introduced
or established by education, example, custom, or
some other means ; or the frame or state that the
mind is in on a particular occasion." (ibid.)

Edwards here suggests, that it may be unneces-
sary to consider the state of the mind as a ground
of agreeableness distinct from the two already
mentioned : viz. — the nature and circumstances
of the object, and the manner of the view. "Per-
haps, if we strictly consider the matter," he re- v-
marks, " the different temper and state of the
mind makes no alteration as to the agreeableness
of objects in any other way, than as it makes the
objects themselves appear differently, beautiful or
deformed, having apparent pleasure or pain at-
tending them ; and as it occasions the manner of
the view to be different, causes the idea of beauty
or deformity, pleasure or uneasiness, to be more
or less lively." (ibid.) In this remark, Edwards
shows plainly how completely he makes mind and \j
object to run together in choice, or how perfect a
unition of the two, choice is. The state of the
mind is manifested only in relation to the nature
and circumstances of the object ; and the sense of

;{>_' STATKMEN'T or

agrccablcness being in the correlation of the two,
(In st nse of tie most agn < able or choice is such a
perfect unition of tiie two, that, having described
the object in its nature and circumstances in re-
lation to the most agreeable, we have compre-
hended in this the state of mind. On the other
hand, the nature and circumstances of the object,
in relation to the most agreeable, can be known
only by the state of mind produced by the pres-
ence of the object and its circumstances. To
give an example, — let a rose be the object.
When I describe the beauty and agreeableness of
this object, I describe the state of mind in rela-
tion to it ; for its beauty and agreeableness are
identical with the sensations and emotions which
I experience, — hence, in philosophical language,
called the secondary qualities of the object : and
so, on the other hand, if I describe my sensations
and emotions in the presence of the rose, I do in
fact describe its beauty and agreeableness. The
mind and object are thus united in the sense of
agreeableness. I could not have this sense of
agreeableness without an object ; but when the
object is presented to my mind, they are so made
for each other, that they seem to melt together in
the pleasurable emotion. The sense of the most
agreeable or choice maybe illustrated in the same

EDWAIlDS's SYSTEM. 33

way. The only difference between the agreea-
ble simply and the most agreeable is this : the
agreeable refers merely to an emotion awakened
on the immediate presentation of an object, with-
out any comparison or competition. The most
agreeable takes place where there is comparison
and competition. Thus, to prefer or choose a
rose above a violet is a sense of the most agreea-
ble of the two. In some cases, however, that
which is refused is positively disagreeable. The
choice, in strictness of speech, in these cases, is
only a sense of the agreeable. As, however, in
every instance of choosing, there are two terms
formed by contemplating the act of choosing itself
in the contrast of positive and negative, the phrase
most agreeable or greatest apparent good is con-
venient for general use, and sufficiently precise to
express every case which comes up.

It may be well here to remark, that in the sys-
tem we are thus endeavouring to state and to illus-
trate, the word choice is properly used to express
the action of will, when that action is viewed in
relation to its immediate effects, — as when I say,
I choose to walk. The sense of the most agreea-
ble, is properly used to express the same action,
when the action is viewed in relation to its own
cause. Choice and volition are the words in com-

34 \ti:ment of

nion use, because men at large only think of choice
and volition in reference to effects. But when the
cause of choice is sought after by a philosophic
mind, and is supposed to lie in the nature and cir-
cumstances of mind and object, then the sense of
(he most agreeable becomes the most appropriate
form of expression.

Edwards concludes his discussion of the cause
yj of the most agreeable, by remarking: "However,
I think so much is certain, — that volition, in no
one instance that can be mentioned, is otherwise
than the greatest apparent good is, in the manner
which has been explained." This is the great
principle of his system ; and, a few sentences af-
ter, he states it as an axiom, or a generally admit-
ted truth : " There is scarcely a plainer and more
universal dictate of the sense and experience of
mankind, than that when men act voluntarily and
do what they please, then they do what suits them
best, or what is most agreeable to them." In-
deed, Edwards cannot be considered as having
attempted to prove this ; he has only explained it,
and therefore it is only the explanation of a sup-
posed axiom that we have been following out.

This supposed axiom is really announced in the
first section : " Will and desire do not run coun-
ter at all : the thing which he wills, the very same

edwards's system. 35

he desires ;" that is, a man wills as he desires, and
of course wills what is most agreeable to him.
It is to be noticed, also, that the title of part I.
runs as follows : " Wherein are explained and
stated various terms and things, &c." Receiving
it, therefore, as a generally admitted truth, " that
choice or volition is always as the most agreea-
ble," and is itself only the sense of the most agree-
able, what is the explanation given ?

1. That will, or the faculty of choice, is not a
faculty distinct from the affections or passions, or
that part of our being which philosophers some-
times call the sensitivity.

2. That volition, or choice, or preference, being
at any given moment and under any given cir-
cumstances the strongest inclination, or the strong-
est affection and desire with regard to an imme-
diate object, appears in the constitution of our be-
ing as the antecedent of effects in the mind itself,
or in the body ; which effects are called volunta-
ry actions, — as acts of attention, or of talking, or
walking.

3. To say that volition is as the desire, is equiv-
alent to saying that volition is as the "greatest
apparent good," which again means only the most
agreeable, — so that the volition becomes again
the sense or feeling of the greatest apparent good.

36

STATEMENT OF

There is in all this only a variety of expressions
tor the same affection of the sensitivity.

i. Determination of will is actual choice, or
the production in the mind of volition, or choice,
or the strongest affection, or the sense of the most
agreeable, or of the greatest apparent good. It is
therefore an effect, and must have a determiner
or cause.

5. This determiner or cause is called motive.
In explaining what constitutes the motive, we
must take into view both mind and object. The
object must be perceived by the mind as some-
thing existent. This perception, however, is only
preliminary, or a mere introduction of the object
to the mind. Now, in order that the sense of the
most agreeable, or choice, may take place, the
mind and object must be suited to each other ;
they must be correlatives. The object must pos-
sess qualities of beauty and agreeableness to the
mind. The mind must possess a susceptibility
agreeable to the qualities of the object. But to
say that the object possesses qualities of beauty
and agreeableness to the mind, is in fact to affirm
that the mind has the requisite susceptibility; for
these qualities of the object have a being, and are
what they are only in relation to mind. Choice,
or the sense of agreeableness, may therefore be
called the unition of the sensitivity and the object.

edwards's system. 37

Choice is thus, like any emotion or passion, a fact
perpetually appearing in the consciousness ; and,
like emotion or passion ; and, indeed, being a
mere form of emotion and passion, must ultimate-
ly be accounted for by referring it to the consti-
tution of our being. But inasmuch as the consti-
tution of our being manifests itself in relation to
objects and circumstances, we do commonly ac-
count for its manifestations by referring them to
the objects and circumstances in connexion with
which they take place, and without which they
would not take place ; and thus, as we say, the
cause of passion is the object of passion : so we
say also, in common parlance, the cause of choice is
the object of choice ; and assigning the affections
of the mind springing up in the presence of the
object, to the object, as descriptive of its qualities,
we say that choice is always as the most beauti-
ful and agreeable ; that is, as the greatest appa-
rent good. This greatest apparent good, thus ob-
jectively described, is the motive, or determiner,
or cause of volition.

In what sense the Will follows the last dictate
of the Understanding.

"It appears from these things, that in some
4

38 STATEMENT OF

sense the will always follows ih< Inst dictate of the
understanding. But then the understanding must
be taken in a large sense, as including the whole
faculty of perception or apprehension, and not
merely what is called reason or judgement. If by
the dictate of the understanding is meant what
reason declares to be best, or most for the per-
son's happiness, taking in the whole of its dura-
tion, it is not true that the will always follows the
last dictate of the understanding. Such a dictate
of reason is quite a different matter from things
appearing now most agreeable, all things being
put together which relates to the mind's present
perceptions in any respect." (p. 25.) The " large
sense " in which Edwards takes the understand-
ing, embraces the whole intellectual and sensitive
being. In the production of choice, or the sense
of the most agreeable, the suggestions of reason
may have their influence, and may work in with
other particulars to bring about the result ; but
then they are subject to the same condition with
the other particulars, — they must appear, at the
moment and in the immediate circumstances, the
most agreeable. It is not enough that they come
from reason, and are true and right ; they must
likewise suit the state of the mind, — for as choice
is the sense of the most agreeable, that only as an

EDWARDS S SYSTEM. 311

object can tend to awaken this sense, which is
properly and agreeably related to the feelings of
the subject. Where the suggestions of reason are
not agreeably related, " the act of the will is de-
termined in opposition to it." (ibid.)

" Sec. III. — Concerning the meaning of the
terms Necessity, Impossibility, Inability,

&C AND OF CoNTINGENCE."

After having settled his definition of choice or
volition, and explained the cause of the same, Ed-
wards takes up the nature of the connexion be-
tween this cause and effect : viz. motive and vo-
lition. Is this connexion a necessary connexion ?

In order to determine this point, and to explain
his view of it, he proceeds to discuss the meaning
of the terms contained in the above title. This
section is entirely occupied with this preliminary
discussion.

Edwards makes two kinds of necessity : 1. Ne-
cessity as understood in the common or vulgar
use ; 2. Necessity as understood in the philosoph-
ical or metaphysical use.

1. In common use, necessity "is a relative term,
and relates to some supposed opposition made to
the existence of a thing, — which opposition is

40 STATEMENT OF

overcome or proves insufficient to hinder or alter
it. The word impossible is manifestly a relative
term, and has reference to supposed power exert-
ed to bring a thing to pass which is insufficient
for the effect. The word unable is relative, and
has relation to ability, or endeavour, which is in-
sufficient. The word irresistible is relative, and
has reference to resistance which is made, or may
be made, to some force or power tending to an
effect, and is insufficient to withstand the power
or hinder the effect. The common notion of ne-
cessity and impossibility implies something that
frustrates endeavour or desire."

He then distinguishes this necessity into gene-
ral and particular. "Things are necessary in
general, which are or will be, notwithstanding
any supposable opposition, from whatever quar-
ter :M e. g. that God will judge the world.

" Things are necessary to us which are or will
be, notwithstanding all opposition supposable in
the case from us." This is particular necessity:
e. g. any event which / cannot hinder. In the
discussions " about liberty and moral agency," the
word is used especially in a particular sense, be-
cause we are concerned in these discussions as
individuals.

According to this common use of necessity in

edwards's system. 41

the particular sense, "When we speak of any
thing necessary to us, it is with relation to some
supposable opposition to our wills ;" and " a thing
is said to be necessary" in this sense "when we
cannot help it, do what ice will." So also a thing
is said to be impossible to us when we cannot do
it, although we make the attempt, — that is, put
forth the volition ; and irresistible to us, which,
when we put forth a volition to hinder it, over-
comes the opposition : and we are unable to do a
thing " when our supposable desires and endeav-
ours are insufficient," — are not followed by any
effect. In the common or vulgar use of these
terms, we are not considering volition in relation
to its own cause ; but we are considering volition
as itself a cause in relation to its own effects :
e. g. suppose a question be raised, whether a cer-
tain man can raise a certain weight, — if it be af-
firmed that it is impossible for him to raise it, that
he has not the ability to raise it, and that the
weight will necessarily keep its position, — no ref-
erence whatever is made to the production of a
volition or choice to raise it, but solely to the con-
nexion between the volition and the raising of the
weight. Now Edwards remarks, that this com-
mon use of the term necessity and its cognates
being habitual, is likely to enter into and confound
4*

42 STATi:.Mi..vr or

our reasonings on subjects where it is inadmissi-
ble from the nature of the case. We must there-
fore be careful to discriminate, (p. 27.)

2. In metaphysical or philosophical use, neces-
sity is not a relative, but an absolute term. In this
use necessity applies " in cases wherein no insuf-
ficient will is supposed, or can be supposed ; but
the very nature of the supposed case itself ex-
cludes any opposition, will, or endeavour." (ibid.)
Thus it is used " with respect to God's existence
before the creation of the world, when there was
no other being." " Metaphysical or philosophical
necessity is nothing different from certainty, —
not the certainty of knowledge, but the certainty
of things in themselves, which is the foundation of
the certainty of knowledge, or that wherein lies
the ground of the infallibility of the proposition
which affirms them. Philosophical necessity is
really nothing else than the full and fixed connex-
ion between the things signified by the subject
and predicate of a proposition which affirms some-
thing to be true ; and in this sense I use the word
necessity, in the following discourse, when I en-
deavour to prove that necessity is not inconsistent
with liberty" (p. 27, 28, 29.)

"The subject and predicate of a proposition
which affirms the existence of something, mav

^

ib.

UlTIVEESIl

edwards's system. V^ Oa . 48

have a full, fixed, and certain connexion, in seve
ral ways."'

" ] . They may have a full and perfect connex-
ion in and of themselves. So God's infinity and
other attributes are necessary. So it is neces-
sary, in its own nature, that two and two should
be four."

2, The subject and predicate of a proposition,
affirming the existence of something which is al-
ready come to pass, are fixed and certain.

3. The subject and predicate of a proposition
may be fixed and certain consequentially, — and
so the existence of the things affirmed may be
" consequentially necessary." " Things which are
perfectly connected with the things that are neces-
sary, are necessary themselves, by a necessity of
consequence." This is logical necessity.

" And here it may be observed, that all things
which are future, or which will hereafter begin to
be, which can be said to be necessary, are neces-
sary only in this last way," — that is, "by a cou-
nt > ion with something that is necessary in its
own nature, or something that already is or has
been. This is the necessity which especially be-
longs to controversies about acts of the will."
(p. 30.)

Philosophical necessity is general and particu-

44 BTATBMBHT OP

far. 1. "The existence of a thing may be said
to be necessary with a general necessity, when
all things considered there is a foundation for the
certainty ofits existence." This is unconditional
necessity in the strictest s< nse.

2. Particular necessity refers to " things that
happen to particular persons, in the existence of
which no will of theirs has any concern, at least
at that time ; which, whether they are necessary
or not with regard to things in general, yet are
necessary to them, and with regard to any voli-
tion of theirs at that time, as they prevent all
acts of the will about the affair." (p. 31.) This
particular necessity is absolute to the individual,
because his will has nothing to do with it —
whether it be absolute or not in the general sense,
does not affect his case.

" What has been said to show the meaning of
terms necessary and necessity, may be sufficient
for the explaining of the opposite terms impossible
and impossibility. For there is no difference, but
only the latter are negative and the former posi-
tive." (ibid.)

Inability and Unable.
" It has been observed that these terms in their

EDWARDS S SYSTEM.

45

original and common use, have relation to will
and endeavour, as supposable in the case." That
is have relation to the connexion of volition with
effects. " But as these terms are often used by
philosophers and divines, especially writers on
controversies about free will, they are used in
a quite different and far more extensive sense,
and are applied to many cases wherein no will or
endeavour for the bringing of the thing to pass is
or can be supposed :" e. g. The connexion be-
tween volitions and their causes or motives.

Contingent and Contingency.

" Any thing is said to be contingent, or to come
to pass by chance or accident, in the original
meaning of such words, when its connexion with
its causes or antecedents, according to the estab-
lished course of things, is not discerned ; and so is
what we have no means of foreseeing. But the
word, contingent, is abundantly used in a very
different sense ; not for that, whose connexion
with the series of things we cannot discern so as
to foresee the event, but for something which has
absolutely no previous ground or reason, with
which its existence has any fixed connexion."
(p. 31. 32.)

W STATEMENT OF

Contingency and chance Edwards uses as eqai
valent terms. In common use, contingency and
chance arc relative to our knowledge — implying
that we discern no cause. In another use, — the
use of a certain philosophical school, — he affirms
that contingency is used to express absolutely no
cause ; or, that some events are represented as
existing without any cause or ground of their ex-
istence. This will be examined in its proper
place. I am now only stating Edwards's opinions,
not discussing them.

Sec IV. Of the Distinction of natural and
moiial Necessity and Inability.

We now return to the question : — Is the con-
nexion between motive and volition necessary?

The term necessary, in its common or vulgar
use, does not relate to this question, for in that
use as we have seen, it refers to the connexion
between volition considered as a cause, and its
effects. In this question, we are considering voli-
tion as an effect in relation to its cause or the
motive. If the connexion then of motive and vo-
lition be necessary, it must be necessary in the
philosophical or metaphysical sense of the term.

ED\VARDS?S SYSTEM. 47

Now this philosophical necessity Edwards docs
hold to characterize the connexion of motive and
volition. This section opens with the following
distinction of philosophical necessity: " That ne-
cessity which has been explained, consisting in
an infallible connexion of the things signified by
the subject and predicate of a proposition, as in-
telligent beings are the subjects of it, is distin-
guished into moral and natural necessity." He
then appropriates moral philosophical necessity to
express the nature of the connexion between mo-
tive and volition: "And sometimes by moral ne-
cessity is meant that necessity of connexion and
consequence which arises from moral causes, as
the strength of inclination, or motives, and the
connexion which there is in many cases between
these, and such certain volitions and actions.
And it is in this sense that I use the phrase moral
necessity in the following discourse." (p. 32.)
Natural jihilosophical necessity as distinguished
from this, he employs to characterize the connexion
between natural causes and phenomena of our
being, as the connexion of external objects with
our various sensations, and the connexion between
truth and our assent or belief, (p. 33.)

In employing the term moral, however, he
does not intend to intimate that it affects at all

48 STATEMENT of

the absoluteness of the necessity which it distin-
guishes ; on the contrary, he affirms that "moral
necessity may be as absolute as natural necessity.
That is, the effect may be as perfectly connected
with its moral cause, as a natural necessary effect is
with its natural cause. It must be allowed that
there maybe such a thing as a sure and perfect con-
nexion between moral causes and effects ; so this
only (i. e. the sure and perfect connexion.) is what
I call by the name of moral necessity" (p. 33.)

Nor does he intend " that when a moral habit
or motive is so strong that the act of the will in-
fallibly follows, this is not owing to the nature of
things" But these terms, moral and natural, are
convenient to express a difference which really
exists; a difference, however, which "does not
lie so much in the nature of the connexion as in
the two terms connected. ." Indeed, he soon after
admits " that choice in meiny cases arises from na-
ture, as truly as other events." His sentiment is
plainly this — choice lies in the great system and
chain of nature as truly as any other phenomenon,
arising from its antecedent and having its conse-
quents or effects : but we have appropriated na-
ture to express the chain of causes and effects,
which lie without us, and which are most obvious
to us ; and choice being, " as it were, a new prin-

edwards's system. 19

ciple of motion and action," lying within us, and
often interrupting or altering the external course
of nature, seems to demand a peculiar designa-
tion, (p. 34.)

Edwards closes his remarks on moral necessity
by justifying his reduction of motive and volition
under philosophical necessity. " It must be ob-
served, that in what has been explained, as signi-
fied by the name of moral necessity, the word ne-
cessity is not used according to the original design
and meaning of the word ; for, as was observed
before, such terms, necessary, impossible, irresisti-
ble, &c. in common speech, and their most proper
sense, are always relative, having reference to
some supposable voluntary opposition or endea-
vour, that is insufficient. But no such opposi-
tion, or contrary will and endeavour, is supposa-
ble in the case of moral necessity ; which is a
certainty of the inclination and will itself; which
does not admit of the supposition of a will to op-
pose and resist it. For it is absurd to suppose the
same individual will to oppose itself in its present
act ; or the present choice to be opposite to, and
resisting present choice : as absurd as it is to talk
of two contrary motions in the same moving body
at the same time. And therefore the very case
supposed never admits of any trial, whether an
5

.">() - i \ TEW \ C of

opposing or resisting will can overcome tliis nc-
'y." (p. :::..)
This passage is clear and full. Common ne-
cessity, or necessity in the original use of the
word, refers to the connexion between volition
and its effects ; for here an opposition to will is
supposablc. I may choose or will to raise a
weight ; but the gravity opposed to my endea-
vour overcomes it, and I find it impossible for
me to raise it, and the weight nccessaj-ily remains
in its place. In this common use of these terms,
the impossibility and the necessity are relative to
my volition ; but in the production of choice itself,
or volition, or the sense of the most agreeable,
there is no reference to voluntary endeavour.
Choice is not the cause of itself: it cannot be
conceived of as struggling with itself in its own
production. The cause of volition does not lie
within the sphere of volition itself; if any opposi-
tion, therefore, were made to the production of a
volition, it could not be made by a volition. The
mind, with given susceptibilities and habits, is
supposed to be placed within the influence of
objects and their circumstances, and the choice
takes place in the correlation of the two, as the
sense of the most agreeable. Now choice cannot
exist before its cause, and so there can be no

edwards's system. 51

choice in the act of its causation. It comes into
existence, therefore, by no necessity relating to
voluntary endeavour ; it comes into existence by
a philosophical and absolute necessity of cause
and effect. It is necessary as the falling of a
stone which is thrown into the air ; as the freez-
ing or boiling of water at given temperatures ; as
sensations of sight, sound, smell, taste, and feel-
ing, when the organs of sense and the objects of
sense are brought together. The application of
the epithet moral to the necessity of volition, evi-
dently does not alter in the least the character of
that necessity. It is still philosophical and abso-
lute necessity, and as sure and perfect as natural
necessity. This we have seen he expressly ad-
mits, (p. 33 ;) affirming, (p. 34,) that the differ-
ence between a moral and natural necessity is a
mere difference in the "two terms connected,"'
and not a difference " in the nature of the con-
nexion."

Natural and moral Inability.

" What has been said of natural and moral ne-
cessity, may serve to explain what is intended by
natural and moral inability. We are said to be
naturally unable to do a thing, when we cannot

52 STATEMENT OF

do it if we will, because what is most commonly
called nature does not allow of it, or because of
some impeding defect or obstacle that is extrinsic
to the will ; either in the faculty of the understand-
ing, constitution of body, or external objects." (p.
35.) We may make a voluntary endeavour to
know something, and may find ourselves unable,
through a defect of the understanding. We may
make a voluntary effort to do something by the
instrumentality of our hand, and may find our-
selves unable through a defect of the bodily con-
stitution ; or external objects may be regarded as
presenting such a counter force as to overcome
the force we exert. This is natural inability ; this
is all we mean by it. It must be remarked too,
that this is inability not metaphysically or jjJiiloso-
phically considered, and therefore not absolute in-
ability ; but only inability in the common and vul-
gar acceptation of the term — a relative inability,
relative to volition or choice — an inability to do,
although we will to do.

What is moral inability ? " Moral inability
consists not in any of these things ; but either in
the want of inclination, or the strength of a con-
trary inclination, or the want of sufficient motives
in view, to induce and excite the act of will, or
the strength of apparent motives to the contrary-

edwards's system. 58

Or both these may be resolved into one ; and it
may be said, in one word, that moral inability con-
sists in the opposition or want of inclination. For
when a person is unable to will or choose such a
thing, through a defect of motives, or prevalence
of contrary motives, it is the same thing as his
being unable through the want of an inclination,
or the prevalence of a contrary inclination, in
such circumstances and under the influence of
such views.'" (ibid.)

The inability in this case does not relate to the
connexion between volition and its consequents
and effects ; but to the production of the volition
itself. Now the inability to the production of a
volition, cannot be affirmed of the volition, because
it is not yet supposed to exist, and as an effect
cannot be conceived of as producing itself. The
inability, therefore, must belong to the causes of
volition, or to the motive. But motive, as we
have seen, lies in the state of the mind, and in the
nature and circumstances of the object ; and choice
or volition exists when, in the correlation of mind
and object, the sense of the most agreeable is pro-
duced. Now what reason can exist, in any given
case, why the volition or sense of the most agree-
able is not produced ? Why simply this, that there
is not such a correlation of mind and object as to
•v

54 STATEMENT OF

produce this sense or choice. But wherein lies
the deficiency? We may say generally, that it
lies in both mind and object — that they are not
suited to each other. The mind is not in a state
to be agreeably impressed by the object, and the
object does not possess qualities of beauty and
agreeablencss to the mind. On the part of the
mind, there is either a want of inclination to the
object, or a stronger inclination towards another
object : on the part of the object, there is a want
of interesting and agreeable qualities to the par-
ticular state of mind in question, or a suitableness
to a different state of mind : and this constitutes
" the want of sufficient motives in viewr, to induce
and excite the act of will, or the strength of appa-
rent motives to the contrary." And both these
may clearly be resolved into one, that above men-
tioned, viz. a want of inclination on the part of
the mind to the object, and a stronger inclination
towards another object ; or, as Edwards expresses
it, " the opposition or want of inclination."' For a
want of inclination to one object, implying a
stronger inclination to another object, expresses
that the state of the mind, and the nature and cir-
cumstances of the one object, are not correlated ;
but that the state of mind, and the nature and cir-
cumstances of the other object, are correlated.

edwards's system. 55

The first, is a " want of sufficient motives ;" the
second, stronger " motives to the contrary." Mo-
ral inability lies entirely out of the sphere of voli-
tion; volition, therefore, cannot produce or relieve
it, for this would suppose an effect to modify its
cause, and that too before the effect itself has any
existence. Moral inability is a metaphysical ina-
bility : it is the perfect and fixed impossibility of
certain laws and principles of being, leading to
certain volitions ; and is contrasted with physical
inability, which is the established impossibility of
a certain volition, producing a certain effect. So
we may say, that moral ability is the certain and
fixed connexion between certain laws and prin-
ciples of being, and volitions ; and is contrasted
with natural ability, which is the established con-
nexion between certain volitions and certain ef-
fects.

Moral inability, although transcending the sphere
of volition, is a real inability. Where it exists,
there is the absolute impossibility of a given voli-
tion,— and of course an absolute impossibility of
certain effects coming to pass by that volition.
The impossibility of water freezing above an es-
tablished temperature, or of boiling below an es-
tablished temperature, is no more fixed than the
impossibility of effects coming to pa.ss by a voli-

56 STATEMENT OF

tion, when there is a moral inability of the voli-
tion. The difference between the two cases does
not lie " in the nature of the connexion," but " in
the two terms connected."

Edwards gives several instances in illustration
of moral inability.

" A woman of great honour and chastity may
have a moral inability to prostitute herself to her
slave." (ibid.) There is no correlation between
the state of her mind and the act which forms the
object contemplated, — of course the sense of the
most agreeable or choice cannot take place ; and
while the state of her mind remains the same, and
the act and its circumstances remain the same,
there is, on the principle of Edwards, an utter in-
ability to the choice, and of course to the conse-
quents of the choice.

" A child of great love and duty to his parents,
may be thus unable to kill his father." (ibid.)
This case is similar to the preceding.

"A very lascivious man, in case of certain op-
portunities and temptations, and in the absence of
such and such restraints, may be unable to for-
bear gratifying his lust." There is here a corre-
lation between the state of mind and the object, in
its nature and circumstances, — and of course the
sense of the most agreeable or choice takes place.

edwards's system. 57

There is a moral ability to the choice, and a mor-
al inability to forbear, or to choose the opposite.

" A drunkard, under such and such circumstan-
ces, may be unable to forbear taking strong
drink." (ibid.) This is similar to the last.

" A very malicious man may be unable to ex-
ert benevolent acts to an enemy, or to desire his
prosperity ; yea, some may be so under the pow-
er of a vile disposition, that they may be unable
to love those who are most worthy of their es-
teem and affection." (ibid.) The state of mind is
such, — that is, the disposition or sensitivity, — as
not to be at all correlated to the great duty of
loving one's neighbour as one's self, — or to
any moral excellency in another : of course the
sense of the most agreeable is not produced ; and
in this state of mind it is absolutely impossible
that it should be produced. " A strong habit of
virtue, a great esteem of holiness, mav cause a
moral inability to love wickedness in general."
(p. 3G.) " On the other hand, a great degree of
habitual wickedness may lay a man under an in-
ability to love and choose holiness, and render
him utterly unable to love an infinitely Holy Be-
ing, or to choose and cleave to him as the chief
good." (ibid.) The love and choice of holiness
is necessarily produced by the correlation of the

58 STATEMENT or

mind with holiness; and the love and choice of
holiness is utterly impossible when this correlation
does not exist. Where a moral inability to evil
exists, nothing can be more sure and fixed than
this inability. The individual who is the subject
of it has absolutely no power to alter it. If he
were to proceed to alter it, he would have to put
forth a volition to this effect ; but this would be
an evil volition, and by supposition the individual
has no ability to evil volitions.

Where a moral inability to good exists, nothing
can be more sure and fixed than this inability.
The individual who is the subject of it, has abso-
lutely no power to alter it. If he were to pro-
ceed to alter it, he would have to put forth a voli-
tion to this effect ; but this would be a good vo-
lition, and by supposition the individual has no
ability to good volitions.

General and habitual, particular and occasional
Inability.

The first consists " in a fixed and habitual in-
clination, or an habitual and stated defect or
want of a certain kind of inclination, (p. 36.)

The second is " an inability of the will or heart
to a particular act, through the strength or defect

EDWARDS * SYSTEM. 59

of present motives, or of inducements presented
to the view of the understanding, on this occa-
sion." (ibid.)

An habitual drunkard, and a man habitually so-
ber, on some particular occasion getting drunk,
are instances of general and particular inability.
In the first instance, the slate of the man's mind
has become correlated to the object ; under all
times and circumstances it is fixed. In the second
instance, the state of the man's mind is correlated
to the object only when presented on certain oc-
casions and under certain circumstances. In both
instances, however, the choice is necessary, — "it
not being possible, in any case, that the will should
at present go against the motive which has now,
all things considered, the greatest advantage to
induce it."

" Will and endeavour against, or diverse from
present acts of the will, are in no case supposa-
ble, whether those acts be occasional or habitual ;
for that would be to suppose the will at present
to be otherwise than at present it is." (ibid.)

The passage which follows deserves particular
attention. It may be brought up under the fol-
lowing question :

Although will cannot be exerted against pres-
ent acts of the will, yet can present acts of the

60 STATEMENT OF

will be exerted to produce future acts of the will,
opposed to present habitual or present occasional
acts ?

" But yet there may be will and endeavour
against future acts of the will, or volitions that are
likely to take place, as viewed at a distance. It
is no contradiction, to suppose that the acts of the
will at one time may be against the act of the will
at another time ; and there may be desires and
endeavours to prevent or excite future acts of the
will ; but such desires and endeavours arc in
many cases rendered insufficient and vain through
fixedness of habit : when the occasion returns, the
strength of habit overcomes and baffles all such
opposition." (p. 37.)

Let us take the instance of the drunkard. The
choice or volition to drink is the fixed correlation
of his disposition and the strong drink. But we
may suppose that his disposition can be affected
by other objects likewise : as the consideration of
the interest and happiness of his wife and chil-
dren, and his own respectability and final happi-
ness. When his cups are removed, and he has
an occasional fit of satiety and loathing, these con-
siderations may awaken at the time the sense of
the most agreeable, and lead him to avoid the oc-
casions of drunkenness, and to form resolutions
of amendment; but when the appetite and longing

edwards's system. 61

for drink returns, and he comes again in the way
of indulgence, then these considerations, brought
fairly into collision with his habits, are overcome,
and drinking, as the most agreeable, asserts its
supremacy.

" But it may be comparatively easy to make an
alteration with respect to such future acts as are
only occasional and transient ; because the occa-
sional or transient cause, if foreseen, may often
easily be prevented or avoided." (ibid.)

In the case of occasional drunkenness, for in-
stance, the habitual correlation is not of mind and
strong drink, but of mind and considerations of
honour, prudence, and virtue. But strong drink
being associated on some occasion with objects
which are correlated to the mind, — as hospitali-
ty, friendship, or festive celebrations, — may ob-
tain the mastery ; and in this case, the individual
being under no temptation from strong drink in
itself considered, and being really affected with
the sense of the most agreeable in relation to ob-
jects which are opposed to drunkenness, may
take care that strong drink shall not come again
into circumstances to give it an adventitious ad-
vantage. The repetition of occasional drunken-
ness would of course by and by produce a change
in the sensitivity, and establish an habitual liking

6

69 STATEMENT OF

for drink. " On this account, the moral inability
that attends fixed habits, especially obtains the
name of inability. And then, as the will may re-
motely and indirectly resist itself, and do it in vain,
in the case of strong habits ; so reason may resist
present acts of the will, and its resistance be in-
sufficient : and this is more commonly the case,
also, when the acts arise from strong habit."

^K^ In every act of the will, the will at the moment
is unable to act otherwise ; it is in the strictest
sense true, that a man, at the moment of his act-
ing, must act as he does act ; but as we usually
characterize men by the habitual state of their
minds, we more especially speak of moral inabil-
ity in relation to acts which are known to have
no correlation to this habitual state. This habitu-
al state of the mind, if it be opposed to reason,
overcomes reason ; for nothing, not even reason
itself, can be the strongest motive, unless it pro-
duce the sense of the most agreeable ; and this it
cannot do, where the habitual disposition or sen-
sitivity is opposed to it.

Common usage with respect to the phrase want of
power or inability to act in a certain way.

" But it must be observed concerning moral in-

edwards's system. 63

ability, in each kind of it, that the word inability
is used in a sense very diverse from its original
import. The word signifies only a natural inabil-
ity, in the proper use of it ; and is applied to such
cases only wherein a present will or inclination to
the thing, with respect to which a person is said
to be unable, is supposable. It cannot be truly
said, according to the ordinary use of language,
that a malicious man, let him be never so malicious,
cannot hold his hand from striking, or that he is not
able to show his neighbour a kindness ; or that a
drunkard, let his appetite be never so strong, can-
not keep the cup from his mouth. In the strictest
propriety of speedy a man has a thing in his pow-
er if he has it in liis choice or at his election ; and
a man cannot be truly said to he unable to do a
thing, when he can do it if he will." (ibid.)

Men, in the common use of language, and in
the expression of their common and generally re-
ceived sentiments, affirm that an individual has
any thing in his power when it can be controlled
by volition. Their conception of power does
not arise from the connexion of volition with its
cause, but from the connexion of volition as itself
a cause with its effects. Thus the hand of a ma-
licious man when moved to strike, having for its
antecedent a volition ; and if withheld from strik-

(Jl STATEMENT OF

ing, having for its antecedent likewise a volition ;
according to the common usage of language, he,
as the subject of volition, has the power to strike
or not to strike. Now as it is " improperly said
that he cannot perform those external voluntary
actions which depend on the will, it is in some re-
spects more improperly said, that he is unable to
exert the acts of the will themselves ; because it
is more evidently false, with respect to these, that
he cannot if he will ; for to say so is a downright
contradiction ; it is to say he cannot will if he docs
will : and, in this case, not only is it true that it is
easy for a man to do the thing if he will, but the
very willing is the doing." (ibid.)

It is improper, according to this, to say that a
man cannot do a thing, when nothing is wanting
but an act of volition ; for that is within our pow-
er, as far as it can be within our power, which is
within the reach of our volition.

It is still more improper to say that a man is
enable to exert the acts of the will themselves, or
uifable to produce volitions. To say that a man
has power to produce volitions, would imply that
he has power to will volitions ; but this would
make one volition the cause of another, which is
absurd. But, as it is absurd to represent the
will as the cause of its own volitions, and of course

edwards's system. 65

to say that the man has ability to produce his
volitions, it must be absurd likewise to represent
the man as unable, in any particular case, to pro-
duce volitions, for this would imply that in other
cases he is able. Nay, the very language is self-
contradictory. If a man produce volitions, he
must produce them by volitions ; and if in any
case he is affirmed to be unable to produce voli-
tions, then this inability must arise from a want
of connexion between the volition by which the
required volition is aimed to be produced, and the
required volition itself. So that to affirm that
he is unable to will is equivalent to saying, that
he cannot will if he will — a proposition which
grants the very point it assumes to deny. " The
very willing is the doing,"' which is required.

Edwards adopts what he calls the " original "
and u proper," meaning of power, and ability, as
applied to human agents, and appearing, " in the
ordinary use of language," as the legitimate and
true meaning. In this use, power, as we have
seen, relates only to die connexion of volition with
its consequents, and not to its connexion with
its antecedents or motives. Hence, in reference
to the human agent, " to ascribe a non-perform-
ance to the want of power or ability," or to the
want of motives, (for this is plainly his meaning,)
6*

GC BTATEMBNT OF

u is not just/' " because the thing wanting/' that
is, immediately wanting, and wanting so far as thi.
agent himself can be the subject of remark in
respect of it, " is not a being able? that is, a
having the requisite motives, or the moral ability,
"but a being willing, or the act of volition, itself.
To the act of volition, or the fact of 'being willing,'"
there is no faculty of mind or capacity of nature
wanting, but only a disposition or state of mind
adapted to the act ; but with this, the individual
can have no concern in reference to his action,
because he has all the ability which can be pre-
dicated of him legitimately, when he can do the
act, if he will to do it. It is evident that there
may be an utter moral inability to do a thing — that
is the motive may be wanting which causes the
volition, which is the immediate antecedent of the
thing to be done ; but still if it is true that there
is such a connexion between the volition and the
thing to be done, that the moment the volition
takes place the thing is done ; then, according to
Edwards, the man may be affirmed to be able to
do it with the only ability that can be affirmed of
him.

We can exert power only by exerting will, that is
by putting forth volitions, — by choosing, of course
we cannot exert power over those motives which

edwards's system. 67

are themselves the causes of our volitions. We
are not unable to do anything in the proper and
original and legitimate use of the word when, for
the want of motive, we are not the subjects of the
volition required as the immediate antecedent of the
thing to be done ; but we are unable in this use
when, although the volition be made ; still, through
some impediment, the thing is not done. We are
conscious of power, or of the want of power only
in the connexion between our actual volitions and
their objects.

" Sec. V. Concerning the Notion of Liber-
ty, AND OF MORAL AGENCY."

What is liberty ? " The plain and obvious
meaning of the words freedom and liberty, in
common speech, is power, opportunity, or advan-
tage that any one has to do as he pleases. Or, in
other words, his being free from hinderance, or
impediment in the way of doing, or conducting
in any way as he wills. And the contrary to
liberty, whatever name we call it by, is a person's
being hindered or unable to conduct as he will, or
being, necessitated to do otherwise.'' (p. 38.) Again,
" That power and opportunity for one to do and
conduct as he will, or according to his choice, is all

G8 STATEMENT OF

that is meant by it; without taking into the meaning
of the word, anything of the cause of that choice,
or at all considering how the person came to have
such a volition ; whether it was caused by some
external motive, or internal habitual bias ; whether
it was determined by some internal antecedent
volition, or whether it happened without a cause ;
whether it was necessarily connected with some-
thing foregoing, or not connected. Let the person
come by his choice any how, yet if he is able, and
there is nothing in the way to hinder his pursuing
and executing his will, the man is perfectly free,
according to the primary and common notion of
freedom." (p. 39.)

This is Edwards's definition of liberty, and he
has given it with a clearness, a precision, and, at
the same time, an amplification, which renders it
impossible to mistake his meaning.

Liberty has nothing to do with the connexion
between volition and its cause or motive. Liberty
relates solely to the connexion between the voli-
tion and its objects. He is free in the only true
and proper sense, who, when he wills, finds no
impediment between the volition and the object,
who wills and it is done. He wills to walk, and
his legs obey : he wills to talk, and his intellect
and tongue obey, and frame and express sentences.
If his legs were bound, he would not be free. If

edwards's system. G9

his tongue were tied with a thong, or his mouth
gagged, he would not be free ; or if his intellect
were paralysed or disordered, he would not be
free. If there should be anything preventing the
volition from taking effect, he would not be free.

Of what can the attribute of Liberty be
affirmed ?

From the definition thus given Edwards re-
marks, " It will follow, that in propriety of speech,
neither liberty, nor its contrary, can properly be
ascribed to any being or thing, but that which has
such a faculty, power, or property, as is called
will. For that which is possessed of no will, can-
not have any power or opportunity of doing ac-
cording to its will, nor be necessitated to act con-
trary to its will, nor be restrained from acting
agreeable to it. And therefore to talk of liberty,
or the contrary, as belonging to the very ivill itself,
is not to speak good sense ; for the will itself, is
not an agent that has a will. The power of
choosing itself, has not a power of choosing. That
which has the power of volition is the man, or
the soul, and not the power of volition itself. And
he that has the liberty, is the agent who is pos-
sessed of the will ; and not the will which he is
possessed of." (p. 38.)

70 stati:mi:nt of

Liberty is the attribute of the agent, because
the agent is the spiritual essence or being who is
the subject of the power or capacity of choice,
and \u< liberty consists as we have seen in the
unimpeded connexion betwen the volitions pro-
duced in him and the objects of those volitions.
Hence, free will is an objectionable phrase. Free
agent is the proper phrase, that is, an agent
having the power of choice and whose choice
reaches effects.

Moral Agent.

" A moral agent is a being that is capable of
those actions that have a moral quality, and
which can properly be denominated good or evil
in a moral sense, virtuous or vicious, commenda-
ble or faulty." (p. 39.)

In what lies the capability of actions having a
moral quality ?

" To moral agency belongs a moral faculty, or
sense of moral good and evil, or of such a thing
as desert or worthiness, of praise or blame, re-
ward or punishment ; and a capacity which an
agent has of being influenced in his actions by
moral inducements or motives, exhibited to the
view of the understanding or reason, to engage to
a conduct agreeable to moral faculty." (p. 40.)

edwards's system. 71

A moral agent is a being who can perform mo-
ral actions, or actions which are subject to praise
or blame. Now the same action may be commit-
ted by a man or by a brute — and the man alone
will be guilty: why is the man guilty? Because
he has a moral sense or perception by which he
distinguishes right and wrong : the brute has no
such sense or perception. The man having thus
the power of perceiving the right and wrong of ac-
tions — actions and their moral qualities may be so
correlated to him as to produce the sense of the most
agreeable or choice. Or, we may say generally,
moral agency consists in the possession of a reason
and conscience to distinguish right and wrong, and
the capacity of having the right and wrong so corre-
lated to the mind as to form motives and produce
volitions. We might define a man of taste in the
fine arts in a similar way; thus, — a man of taste
is an agent who has the power of distinguishing
beauty and ugliness, and whose mind is so cor-
related to beauty that the sense of the most agree-
able or choice is produced. The only difference
between the two cases is this : that, in the latter,
the sense of the most agreeable is always produced
by the beauty perceived ; while in the former,
the right perceived does not always produce this
sense ; on the contrary, the sense of the most

STATEMENT OF

agreeable is often produced by the wrong, in oppo-
sition to the decisions of reason and conscience.

I have now completed the statement of Ed-
wards's system, nearly in his own words, as con-
tained in part I. of his work. The remarks and
explanations which have been thrown in, I hope
will serve to make him more perfectly understood.
This end will be still more fully attained by pre-
senting on the basis of the foregoing investigation
and statement, a compend of his psychological
system, independently of the order there pursued,
and without largely introducing quotations, which
have already been abundantly made.

COMPEND OF EDWARDS'S PSYCHO-
LOGICAL SYSTEM.

I. There are two cardinal faculties of the mind.
1. The intellectual — called reason or understand-
ing. 2. The active and feeling — called will or
affections.

II. The relation of these to each other. The
first precedes the second in the order of exer-
cise. The first perceives and knows objects in
their qualities, circumstances, and relations. The

edwards's system. 73

second experiences emotions and passions, or
desires and choices, in relation to the objects per-
ceived.

III. Perception is necessary. When the un-
derstanding and its objects are brought together,
perception takes place according to the consti-
tuted laws of the intelligence.

IV. The acts of will or the affections are ne-
cessary. When this faculty of our being and its
objects are brought together, volition or choice,
emotions, passions, or desires take place, accord-
ing to the constituted nature and laws of this
faculty.

The objects and this faculty are correlates.
In relation to the object, we may call this faculty
subject. When subject and object are suited to
each other, that is, are agreeable, affections are
produced which we call pleasant ; when they are
not suited, that is, are disagreeable, affections take
place which are unpleasant or painful. Every ob-
ject in relation to subject, is agreeable or disagree-
able, and produces accordingly, in general, affec-
tions pleasant or painful.

In the perfection and harmony of our being,

this correspondence is universal ; that is, what is

known to be agreeable is felt to be pleasant ; —

what is known to be disagreeable is felt to be

7

' I STATEMENT OF

painful. But, in the corruption of our being, this
is reversed in respect of moral objects. Although
whal is right is known to DC agreeable, that is,
suited to us, it is felt to be painful. But the
wrong which is known to be unsuited,is felt to be
pleasant. It must be remarked here, that pleasant
and agreeable, are used by Edwards and others,
as synonymous terms. The distinction I have
here made is at least convenient in describing the
same objects as presented to the understanding
and to the will.

V. The emotions and passions, volitions or
choices, are thus produced in the correlation of
subject, that is the will, and the object. In as-
signing the causes of these affections, we may re-
fer to the nature of the will, which is such, as to
receive such and such affections when in the pre-
sence of such and such objects : or, we may re-
fer to the objects, and say their nature and cir-
cumstances are such as to produce such and such
affections in the will : or, we may refer to both at
once, and say that the affections arise from the
state of the mind, and from the nature and cir-
cumstances of the object.

VI. The affections of the will stand connected
with changes or effects in other parts of our be-
ing, as stated antecedents. First, they stand thus

EDWARDS S SYSTEM. -■>

connected with muscular action, — as walking,
talking, striking, resisting, &c. Secondly, they
stand thus connected with mental operations, —
as fixing the attention upon any subject of thought
and investigation, or upon any imagination, or
any idea of the memory.

VII. The affections of the will, when thus con-
nected with effects in other parts of our being,
have a peculiar and striking characteristic. It
is this : that the effect contemplated takes place
at the moment it appears the most agreeable, —
the greatest apparent good : which, as Edwards
uses these phrases, means, that at the moment
the effect contemplated produces the most pleas-
ant affection, — the most intense sense of the
agreeable, — it takes place. Thus, when walking
seems most pleasant, we walk ; when talking, we
talk ; when thinking on a particular subject, then
we think on that subject. Such is the constitution
and law of our being. The play of the different
parts is reciprocal. Perception must bring up the
objects, and the affections of will immediately fol-
low. The most agreeable are dwelt upon by the
mind, and perception again takes place particu-
larly with regard to these ; and according as ob-
jects affect the will, do all the activities of our
bein£ come forth.

'U STATEMENT or

VIII. Various terms and phrases in common
use can be easily explained by this system : —
Choice is the sense or the affection of the most
pleasant and agreeable. Preference is its syno-
nyme, with scarcely a shade of difference. They
both have respect to the act of selection. Volition
is another name for this affection of will, and is
used more particularly in relation to effects or
changes following the aflection. Desire is a nas-
cent choice. The strongest desire, at a given
moment, is choice. Emotion is an affection, pleas-
ant or painful, according to the quality of the ob-
ject, but not ripened into desire. It is the first
sudden affection arising from an object present-
ed ; and with respect to certain objects, it ex-
presses all the enjoyment possible in relation to
them, — for example, the emotion of sublimity,
produced by an object which can hold no other
relation to us. But then the sublimity of the ob-
ject may be the motive which causes the choice
of gazing at it ; that is, it connects this act of
contemplation with the sense of the most agree-
able.

Passion is emotion accompanied by desire in
reference to other relations with the object. Thus
the emotion of beauty awakened by a flower
may be accompanied by the desire of possessing

EDWARD* S 8TSTEM.

77 -S11
^1

it ; and if this desire becomes the strongest de-
sire at the moment, then the passion has the cha-
racteristic which makes it choice, and some cor-
responding effects take place in order to possess
it, — as walking towards it, stretching out the
hand, &c

The determination of will is the production or
causation of choice. It is used in reference to the
immediate and particular choice, in opposition to
all other choices.

The will itself is the capacity of being affected
by objects with emotion, passion, and desire, —
and with that form of passion which we call the
sense of the most agreeable or choice, and which
is connected with effects or consequents as their
stated antecedent.

The motive is the cause of choice, and is com-
plex. It lies in the nature and susceptibilities of
the will, and in the nature and circumstances of
the object chosen.

IX. The will and reason may be opposed ; that
is, what reason commands may seem disagreea-
ble to the will, and of course reason cannot be
obeyed. Reason can be obeyed only when her
commands produce the sense of the most agree-
able.

X. The terms necessity, and freedom or liber-

7*

1 8 STATEMENT OS

ty arc opposed in reference to will. Freedom or
liberty is the attribute of the man — the human
soul. The man is free when his volitions or
choices are unimpeded, — when, upon choosing to
walk, he walks, &c. The man is not free, or is
under necessity, when his volitions or choices are
impeded, — when, upon choosing to walk, he finds
his legs bound or paralysed, &c. Then it is im-
possible for him to walk, — then he has no Wh rty
to walk, — then he is under a necessity of remain-
ing in one place.

Necessity in any other use is metaphysical or
philosophical necessity, and is applied out of the
sphere of the will : as the necessity of truth, —
the necessity of being, — the necessary connex-
ion of cause and effect. Hence,

The connexion between volitions or choices, or
the sense of the most agreeable with the motive
or cause, is necessary with a philosophical neces-
sity. The necessity of volitions in reference to
motives is also called moral necessity. This term
moral is given, not in reference to the nature of
the connexion, but in reference to the tenns con-
nected. Volitions belonging to responsible and
moral beings are thus distinguished from those
phenomena which we commonly call natural.

XL An agent is that which produces effects.

edwards's system. 79

A natural agent is that which produces effects
without volition. A moral agent is one producing
effects by volitions, accompanied with an intellec-
tual perception of the volitions and their effects, as
right or wrong, and a sense of desert, or of praise-
worthiness, or blameworthiness, on account of the
volitions and their effects.

Brutes or irresponsible beings are agents that
have volitions, but have no reason to perceive
right and wrong, and consequently have no sense
of desert ; and as they cannot perceive right and
wrong, they cannot be made the subjects of moral
appeals and inducements.

XII. Moral responsibility arises first, from the
possession of reason ; secondly, from the capacity
of choice ; thirdly, from natural ability.

Natural ability exists when the effect or act
commanded to be accomplished has an establish-
ed connexion with volition or choice. Thus we
say a man has natural ability to walk, because if
he chooses to walk, he walks. Natural ability
differs from freedom only in this: — The first re-
fers to an established connexion between volitions
and effects. The second refers to an absence of
all impediment, or of all resisting forces from be-
tween volitions and effects.

Hence a man is naturally unable to do any-

Ml STATl'-MKNT OF

thing when there is no established connexion be-
D volition and that thing. A man is natural-
ly unable to push a mountain from its scat. He
has no liberty to move his arm when it is bound.
M>nil inability is metaphysical or philosophical
inability. Philosophical inability in general refers
to the impossibility of a certain effect for tho
want of a cause, or an adequate cause. Thus
there is a philosophical inability of transmuting
metal ; or of restoring the decay of old age to the
freshness and vigour of youth, because we have
no cause by which such eflects can be produced.
There is a philosophical inability also, to pry up a
rock of a hundred tons weight with a pine lath,
and by the hand of a single man, because we
have not an adequate cause. Moral inability re-
lates to the connexion between motives and vo-
litions in distinction from natural ability, which
relates to the connexion between volitions and ac-
tions consequent upon them : but the term moral
as we have seen, does not characterize the na-
ture of the connexion, — it only expresses the
quality of terms connected. Hence moral inabili-
ty, as philosphical inability, is the impossibility of
a certain volition or choice for the want of a mo-
tive or cause, or an adequate motive. Thus there
is a moral philosophical inability of Faul denying

edwards's system. 81

Jesus Christ, for there is plainly no motive or
cause to produce a volition to such an act. There
is a moral philosophical inability also, of a man
selling an estate for fifty dollars which is worth
fifty thousand, because the motive is not adequate
to produce a volition to such an act.

Philosophical necessity and inability, are abso-
lute in respect of us, because beyond the sphere
of our volition.

XIII. Praiseworthincss or virtue, blameworthi-
ness or guilt, apply only to volitions. This indeed
is not formally brought out in the part of Ed-
wards's work we have been examining. His dis-
cussion of it will be found in part IV. sec. I. But
as it is necessary to a complete view of his sys-
tem, we introduce it here.

He remarks in this part, " If the essence of
virtuousness or commendableness, and of vicious-
ness or fault, does not lie in the nature of the dis-
position or acts of the mind, which are said to be
our virtue or our fault, but in their cause, then it
is certain it lies no where at all. Thus, for in-
stance, if the vice of a vicious act of icill lies not
in the nature of the act, but in the cause, so that
its being of a bad nature will not make it at all
our fault, unless it arises from some faulty deter-
mination of ours as its cause, or something in us

Bfl STATEMENT OF

tliat is our fault, &c." (page 190.) "Disposition
of mind," or inclination, — "acts of the mind,"
" acts of will," here obviously mean the same
thing; that is, they mean volition or choice, and
arc distinguished from their cause or motive.
The question is not whether the cause or motive
be pure or impure, but whether our virtuousness
or viciousness lie in the cause of our volition, or
in the volition itself. It plainly results from Ed-
wards's psychology, and he has himself in the
above quotation stated it, that virtuousness or vi-
ciousness lie in the volition itself. The charac-
teristic of our personality or agency is volition.
Jt \ our volitions that we are conscious

of doing or forbearing to do, and therefore it is
in respect of our volitions that we receive praise
for well-doing, or blame for evil-doing. If these
volitions are in accordance with conscience and
the law of God, they are right ; if not, they are
wrong, and we are judged accordingly. The met-
aphysical questions, how the volition was pro-
duced, and what is the character of the cause,
is the cause praiseworthy or blameworthy, are
questions which transcend the sphere of our vo-
litions, our actions, our personality, our responsi-
bility. We are concerned only with this: — Do
we do right ? do we do wrong 7 What is the na-
ture of our volitions ?

EDWATIDS'S SYSTEM. 83

Nor does the necessary connexion between the
motives and the volitions, destroy the blamewor-
thiness and the praiseworthiness of the volitions.
We are blameworthy or praiseworthy according
to the character of the volitions in themselves,
considered and judged according to the rule of
right, without considering how these volitions
came to exist. The last inquiry is altogether of
a philosophical or metaphysical kind, and not of a
moral kind, or that kind which relates to moral
agency, responsibility, and duty.

And so also we are blameworthy or praise-
worthy for doing or not doing external actions,
so far only as these actions are naturally con-
nected with volitions, as sequents with their sta-
ted antecedents. If the action is one which ought
to be done, we are responsible for the doing of
it, if we know that upon our willing it, it will be
done ; although at this very moment there is no
such correlation between the action and the will,
as to form the motive or cause upon which the
existence of the act of willing depends. If the
action is one which ought not to be done, we are
guilty for doing it, when we know that if we
were not to will it, it would not be done : although
at this very moment there is such a correlation
between the action, and the state of the will, as to

9 I BTATEMBHT OF

form the cause or motive by which the act of
willing comes necessarily to exist. The meta-
physial or philosophical inquiry respecting the
correlation of the state of the will and any action,
or respecting the want of such a correlation, is
foreign to the question of duty and responsibility.
This question relates only to the volition and its
connexion with its consequents.

This does not clash at all with the common
sentiment that our actions are to be judged of by
our motives ; for this sentiment does not respect
volitions in relation to their cause, but external
actions in relation to the volitions which produce
them. These external actions may be in them-
selves good, but they may not be what was willed ;
some other force or power may have come in
between the volition and its object, and changed
the circumstances of the object, so as to bring
about an event different from the will or inten-
tion ; although being in connexion with the agent,
it may still be attributed to his will : or the im-
mediate act which appears good, may, in the mind
of the agent be merely part of an extended plan
or chain of volitions, whose last action or result is
evil. It is common, therefore, to say of an exter-
nal action, we must know what the man intends,
before we pronounce upon him ; which is the same

edwards's system. 85

thing as to say we must know what his volition
really is, or what his motive is — that is, not the
cause which produces his volition, but the volition
which is aiming at effects, and is the motive and
cause of these effects; — which again, is the same
thing as to say, that before we can pronounce upon
his conduct, we must know what effects he really
intends or wills, or desires, that is, what it is
which is really connected in his mind with the
sense of the most agreeable.

Edwards and Locke.

Their systems are one : there is no difference
in the principle. Edwards represents the will as
necessarily determined — so does Locke. Ed-
wards places liberty in the unimpeded connexion
of volition with its stated sequents — so does
Locke.

They differ only in the mode of developing the
necessary determination of will. According to
Locke, desire is in itself a necessary modification
of our being produced in its correlation with ob-
jects ; and volition is a necessary consequent of
desire when excited at any given moment to a
degree which gives the most intense sense of
uneasiness at that moment. " The greatest pre-
8

80 STATEMENT OF EDWARDs's SYSTEM.

sent uneasiness is llie spur of action that is con-
stantly felt, and for the most part, determines the
will in its choice of the next action." (book 2.
ch. 21, § 10.) According to Edwards, desire is
not distinguishable from will as a faculty, and the
strongest desire, at any moment, is the volition of
that moment.

Edwards's analysis is more nice than Locke's,
and His whole dcvelopement more true to the
great principle of the system — necessary deter-
mination. Locke, in distinguishing the will from
the desire, seems about to launch into a different
psychology, and one destructive of the principle.

II.

LEGITIMATE CONSEQUENCES

EDWARDS'S SYSTEM.

II.

THE LEGITIMATE CONSEQUENCES OF
EDWARDS'S SYSTEM.

These consequences must, I am aware, be deduced
with the greatest care and clearness. The deduc-
tion must be influenced by no passion or prejudice.
It must be purely and severely logical — and such
I shall endeavour to make it. I shall begin
with a deduction which Edwards has himself
made.

I. There is no self-determining power of will,
and of course no liberty consisting in a self-deter-
ming power.

A self-determining power of will is a supposed
power, which will has to determine its own voli-
tions.

Will is the faculty of choice,, or the capacity of
desire, emotion, or passion*

Volition is the strongest desire, or the sense of
the most agreeable at any given moment.
8*

90 CONSEQUENCE- or

Volition arises from the state of the mind, or
of the will, or .sensitivity itself, in correlation with
the nature and circumstances of the object.

Now, if the will determined itself, it would deter-
mine its own stale, in relation to objects. But to
determine is to act, and therefore, for the will to
determine is for the will to a^t ; and for the will
to determine itself, is for the will to determine itself
by an act. But an act of the will is a volition ;
therefore for the will to determine itself is to
create a volition by a volition. But then we have
to account for this antecedent volition, and it can
be accounted for only in the same way* We
shall then have an infinite,, or more properly* an
indefinite series of volitions, without any first vo-
lition j consequently we shall have no self-deter-
miner after all, because we can arrive at no first
determiner^ and thus the idea of self-determina-
tion becomes self-destructive. Again, we shall
have effects without a cause, for the series in the
nature of the case never ends in a first* which is
a cause per se-. Volitions arc thus contingent,
using this word as a synonyme of chance^ the
negative of cau-e.

Now that tins is a .legitimate deduction,, no one
can question. If Edwards's psychology be right,
arul if self-determination implies a will to will, or

EDWAKDS S SYSTEM. !>1

choosing a choice, then a self-determining power is
the greatest absurdity possible.

II. It is clearly deducible from this also, that
God can exercise a perfect control over his intel-
ligent creatures, or administer perfectly a moral
government consisting in the influence of motives.

To any given state of mind, he can adapt mo-
tives in reference to required determinations. And
when an individual is removed from the motives
adapted to his state of mind, the Almighty Provi-
dence can so order events as to bring him into
contiguity with the motives.

If the state of mind should be such that no
motives can be made available in reference to a
particular determination, it is clearly supposable
that he who made the soul of man, may exert a
direct influence over this state of mind, and cause
it to answer to the motives presented. Whether
there are motives adapted to every state of mind,
in reference to every possible determination re-
quired by the Almighty Lawgiver, so as to render
it unnecessary to exert a direct influence over the
will, is a question which I am not called upon
here to answer. But in either case^ the divine
sovereignly, perfect and absolute, fore-determining
and bringing to pass every event in the moral as
well as the physical world ; and the election of a

92 CONSEQUENCES OF

certain number to eternal life, and the making of
this election sure, are necessary and plain conse-
quences of this system. And as God is a being
all-wise and good, we may feel assured in con-
nexion with this system, that, in the working out
of his great plan, whatever evil may appear in
the progress of its developement, the grand con-
summation will show that all things have been
working together for good.

III. It is plainly deducible from this system
that moral beings exert an influence over each
other by the presentation of motives. And thus
efforts may be made either to the injury or bene-
fit of society,

IV. If, as Edwards contends, the sense of re-
sponsibility, the consciousness of guilt or of recti-
tude, and consequently the expectation of punish-
ment or reward, connect themselves simply with
the nature of the mere fact of volition — that is, if
this is a true and complete representation of con-
sciousness in relation to this subject, then upon
the mere fact of volition considered only in its
own nature, and wholly independently of its
causes, can the processes of justice go forth.

Thus we may view the system in relation both
to God and to man.

edwards's SYSTEM. 93

In relation to God. It makes him supreme and
absolute — foreseeing and fore-determining, and
bringing everything to pass according to infinite
wisdom, and by the energy of an infinite will.

In relation to man. It shuts him up to the
consideration of the simple fact of volition, and
its connexion as a stated or established antece-
dent with certain effects. He is free to accom-
plish these effects^ because he can accomplish
them if he will. He is free to forbear, because
he can forbear if he will. It is affirmed to be
the common judgement of men, and of course
universally a fact of consciousness, that an indi-
vidual is fully responsible for the doing of any-
thing which ought to be doner if nothing is want-
ing to the doing of it but a volition : that he is
guilty and punishable for doing anything wrong,
because it was done by his volition ; that he is
praiseworthy and to be rewarded for doing any-
thing right, because it was done by his volition.
In vain does he attempt to excuse himself from
right-doing on the plea of moral inability ; this is
mi tn physical inability, and transcends the sphere
of volition. He can do it if he will — and there-
fore he has all the ability required in the case.
Nothing is immediately wanting but a willing-
ness, and all his responsibility relates to this ; he

91 CONSEQUENCES OF

can do nothing, can influence nothing, except by
will; and therefore that which goes before will
is foreign to his consideration, and impossible to
his effort.

In vain does he attempt to excuse himself for
wrong-doing on the ground of moral necessity.
This moral necessity is metaphysical necessity,
and transcends the sphere of volition. He could
have forborne to do wrong, if he had had the will.
Whatever else may have been wanting, there
was not wanting to a successful resistance of evil,
anything with which the agent has any concern,
and for which he is under any responsibility, but
the volition. By his volitions simply is he to be
tried. No court of justice, human or divine, that
we can conceive of, could admit the plea — "I did
not the good because I had not the will to do it,"
or " I did the evil because I had the will to do it."
" This is your guilt," would be the reply of the
judge, "that you had no will to do the good —
that you had a will to do the evil."

We must now take up a different class of de-
ductions. They are such as those abettors of this
system who wish to sustain the great interests of

edwards's system. 95

morality and religion do not make, but strenuously
contend against. If however they are logical de-
ductions, it is in vain to contend against them. I
am conscious of no wish to force them upon the
system, and do most firmly believe that they are
logical. Let the reader judge for himself, but let
him judge thou <jlt1 fully and candidly.

I. The system of Edwards leads to an abso-
lute and unconditional necessity, particular and
general.

1. A particular necessity — a necessity abso-
lute in relation to the individual.

It is granted in the system, that the connexion
of motive and volition is necessary with an abso-
lute necessity, because this precedes and there-
fore is not within the reach of the volition. So
also, the state of mind, and the nature and circum-
stances of the object in relation to this state, form-
ing a correlation, in which lies the motive, is de-
pendent upon a cause, beyond the reach of volition.
As the volition cannot make its motive, so neither
can the volition make the cause of its motive, and
so on in the retrogression of causes, back to the
first cause. Hence, all the train of causes prece-
ding the volition are related by an absolute neces-
sity : and the volition itself, as the effect of motive,
being necessary also with an absolute necessity,

90 < ONSBQ1 BJffCBS OF

the only place for freedom that remains, if free-
dom be possible, is the connexion of volition and

effects, internal and external. And this is the only
place of freedom which this system claims. But
what new characteristic appears in this relation?
Have we here anything beyond stated antecedents
and Bequents ? I will to walk, and I walk ; 1 w ill
to talk, and I talk ; I will to sit down, and I sit
down. The volition is an established antecedent
to these muscular movements. So also, when 1
will to think on a certain subject, I think on that
subject. The volition of selecting a subject, and
the volition of attending to it, are stated antece-
dents to that mental operation which we call
thought. We have here only another instance of
cause and effect, the relation being one as abso-
lute and necessary as any other relation of cause
and effect* The curious organism by which a
choice or a sense of the most agreeable produces
muscular movement, has not been arranged by
any choice of the individual man. The connex-
ion is pre-established for him, and has its cause
beyond the sphere of volition. The constitution
of mind which connects volition with thinking is
also pre-established, and beyond the sphere of
volition. As the volition itself appears by an ab-
solute necessity in relation to the individual man,

EDWARDS S SYSTEM. '.»7

so also do the stated sequents or effects of volition
appear by an absolute necessity in relation to him.

It is true, indeed, that the connexion between
volition and its objects may be interrupted by
forces coming between, or overcome by superior
forces, but this is common to cause and effect,
and forms no peculiar characteristic; it is a lesser
force necessarily interrupted or overcome by a
greater. Besides, the interruption or the over-
coming of a force does not prove its freedom
when it is unimpeded ; its movement may still be
necessitated by an antecedent force. And this is
precisely the truth in respect of volition, according
to this system. The volition could have no being
without a motive, and when the motive is present
it must have a being, and no sooner does it appear
than its effects follow, unless impeded. If impe-
ded, then we have two trains of causes coming
into collision, and the same necessity which
brought them together, gives the ascendency to
the one or the other.

It seems to me impossible to resist the conclu-
sion, that necessity, absolute and unconditional, as
far at least as the man himself is concerned, reigns
in the relation of volition and its effect, if the vo-
lition itself be a necessary existence. All that
precedes volition is necessary ; volition itself is
9

98 CONSEQUENCES OP

necessary. All that follows volition is necessary.
Humanity ifl but a link of the inevitable chain.

2. General necessity — a necessity absolute, in
relation to all being and causality, and applicable
to all events.

An event proved to be necessary in relation to
an individual — is this event likewise necessary in
the whole train of its relations ? Let this event
be a volition of a given individual ; it is necessary
in relation to that individual. Now it must be
supposed to have a connexion by a chain of se-
quents and antecedents with a first cause. Let
us now take any particular antecedent and sequent
in the chain, and that antecedent and sequent, in
its particular place and relations, can be proved
necessary in the same way that the volition is
proved necessary in its particular place and rela-
tions ; that is, the antecedent being given under
the particular circumstances, the sequent must
follow. But the antecedent is linked by like ne-
cessity to another antecedent, of which it is the
sequent ; and the sequent is linked by like neces-
sity to another sequent, of which it is the antece-
dent ; and thus the whole chain, from the given
necessary volition up to the first cause, is neces-
sary. We come therefore at last to consider the
connexion between the first sequent and the first

EDWARDS S SYSTEM. 99

antecedent, or the first cause. Is this a necessary
connexion? If that first antecedent be regarded
as a volition, then the connexion must be neces-
sary. If God will the first sequent, then it was
absolutely necessary that that sequent should ap-
pear. But the volition itself cannot really be the
first antecedent or cause, because volition or choice,
from its very nature, must itself have a determiner
or antecedent. What is this antecedent? The
motive: — for self-determination, in the sense of
the will determining itself, would involve the same
absurdities on this system in relation to God as
in relation to man ; since it is represented as an
absurdity in its own nature — it is determining a
volition by a volition, in endless retrogression.
As the motive therefore determines the divine vo-
lition, what is the nature of the connexion between
the motive and the volition ? It cannot but be a
necessary connexion ; for there is nothing to ren-
der it otherwise, save the divine will. But the
divine will cannot be supposed to do this, for the
motive is already taken to be the ground and cause
of the action of the divine will. The necessity
which applies to volition, in the nature of the case
must therefore apply to the divine volition. No
motives, indeed, can be supposed to influence the
divine will, except those drawn from his infinite

100 CONSEQUENCES OF

intelligence, wisdom, and goodness ; but then the
connexion between these motives and the divine
volitions is a connexion of absolute necessity.
This Edwards expressly affirms — "If God's will
is steadily and surely determined in everything by
supreme wisdom, then it is in everything necessa-
rily determined to that which is most wise." (p.
230.) That the universe is governed by infinite
wisdom, is a glorious and satisfactory thought, and
is abundantly contended for by this system ; but
still it is a government of necessity. This may be
regarded as the most excellent government, and if
it be so regarded it may fairly be contended for.
Let us not, however, wander from the question,
and in representing it as the government of wis-
dom, forget that it is a government of necessity,
and that absolute. The volition, therefore, with
which we started, is at last traced up to a neces-
sary and infinite wisdom as its first and final
cause ; for here the efficient cause and the mo-
tive are indeed one.

What we have thus proved in relation to one
volition, must be equally true in reference to every
other volition and every other event, for the rea-
soning must apply to every possible case. Every
volition, every event, must be traced up to a first
and final cause, and this must be necessary and
infinite wisdom.

edwards's system. 101

II. It follows, therefore, from this system, that
every volition or event is both necessary, and
necessarily the best possible in its place and re-
lations.

The whole system of things had its origin in
infinite and necessary wisdom. All volitions and
events have their last and efficient cause in infi-
nite and necessary wisdom.^ All that has been,
all that is, all that can be, are connected by an
absolute necessity with the same great source.
It would be the height of absurdity to suppose it
possible for any thing to be different from what it
is, or to suppose that any change could make any
thing better than it isv? for all that is* is by abso-
lute necessity, — and all that is, is just what and
where infinite wisdom has made it, and disposed
of it.

III. If that which we call evil, in reality be
evil, then it must be both necessary evil and evil
having its origin in infinite wisdom. It is in vain
to say that man is the agent, in the common ac-
ceptation of the word ; that he is the author, be-
cause the particular volitions are his. These vo-
litions are absolutely necessary, and are necessa-
rily carried back to the one great source of all
being and events. Hence,

1\ . The creature man cannot be blameable.
9*

102 CONSEQUENCES OF

Every volition which appears in him, appears by
an absolute necessity, — and it cannot be suppos-
ed to be otherwise than it is. Now the ground of
blameworthiness is not only the perception of the
difference between right and wrong, and the con-
viction that the right ought to be done, but the
possession of a power to do the right and refrain
from the wrong. But if every volition is fixed by
an absolute necessity, then neither can the indi-
vidual be supposed to have power to do otherwise
than he actually does, nor, all things considered,
can it be supposed there could have been, at that
precise moment and in that precise relation, any
other volition. The volition is fixed, and fixed by
an infinite and necessary wisdom. We cannot
escape from this difficulty by perpetually running
the changes of — "He can if he will," — "He
could if he would," — "There is nothing want-
ing but a will," — " He has a natural ability," &c.
&c. Let us not deceive ourselves, and endeav-
our to stop thought and conclusions by these
words, " he can if he will" ! but he cannot if he
don't will. The will is wanting, — and while it
is wanting, the required effect cannot appear.
And how is that new volition or antecedent to be
obtained ? The man cannot change one volition
for another. By supposition, he has not the moral

edwards's system. 103

or metaphysical ability, — and yet this is the only
ability that can produce the new volition. It is
passing strange that the power upon which voli-
tion is absolutely dependent, should be set aside
by calling it metaphysical, — and the man blamed
for an act because the consequent of his volition,
when the volition itself is the necessary conse-
quent of this power ! The man is* only in his vo-
lition. The volition is good or bad in itself. The
cause of volition is none of his concern, because it
transcends volition. He can if he will. That is
enough for him ! But it is not enough to make
him blameable, when whether he will or not de-
pends not only upon an antecedent out of his
reach, but the antecedent itself is fixed by a ne-
cessity in the divine nature itself.

I am not now disputing the philosophy. The
philosophy may be true ; it may be very good :
but then we must take its consequences along w ith
it ; and this is all that 1 now insist upon.

V. It is another consequence of this system,
that there can be nothing evil in itself. If infinite
wisdom and goodness are the highest form of
moral perfection, as indeed their very names im-
ply, then all the necessary consequences of these
must partake of their nature. Infinite wisdom
and goodness, as principles, can only envelope

101 CONSKQUENCKS OP

parts of themselves. It would be the destruction
of all logic to deny this. It would annihilate eve-
ry conclusion that has ever been drawn. If it be
said thai infinite wisdom has promulged a law

which drlincs clearly what is essentially right,
and that it is a fact that volitions do transgress
this law, still this cannot affect what is said above.
The promulgation of the law was a necessary de-
velopement of infinite wisdom ; and the volition
which transgresses it is a developement of the
same nature. If this seems contradictory. I can-
not help it. It is drawn from the system, and
the system alone is responsible for its conclusions.

If it should be replied here, that every system
must be subject to the same difficulty, because if
evil had a beginning, it must have had a holy
cause, inasmuch as it could not exist before it be-
gan to exist, — I answer, this would be true if
evil is the necessary developement of a holy cause.
But more of this hereafter.

VI. The system of Edwards is a system of
utilitarianism. Every volition being the sense of
the most agreeable, and arising from the corre-
lation of the object and the sensitivity, it follows
that every motive and every action comes under,
and cannot but come under, the one idea of grati-
fication or enjoyment. According to this system,

edwards's system. 105

there can be no collision between principle and
passion, because principle can_Jiave- no^powcr
to determine the will, except as it becomes the
most agreeable. Universally,-^1'00' truth, and
benevolence, obtain swny anly \}y uniting with
desire, and- thus coming undjX-CPnditions of yield-
ing the highest enjoyment. Justice^, truth, and
benevolence, when obeyed, therefore, are not
obeyed as such, but simply as the_most~agreeable ;
and so alsojnjustice, falsehood, and malignity, arc
not obeyed as such, but simply as the_ most agree-
able. In this, quality of the most agreeable, as
the qua!ityo)f all motive_and_ the universal prin-
ciple of the determinations of the will, intrinsic
moral distinctions fade away. We may indeed
speculate respecting these distinctions, — we may
say that justice evidently is right in itself, and in-
justice wrong in itself; but this judgement has
practical efficiency only as one of the terms takes
the form of the most agreeable. But we have
seen that the most agreeable depends upon the
state of the sensitivity in correlation with the ob-
ject,— a state and a correlation antecedent to ac-
tion ; and that therefore it is a necessary law of
our being, to be determined by the greatest appa-
rent good or the most agreeable. Utility, there-
fore, is not only in point of fact, but also in point

100 I 0H8] Ql I n< Eifl OP

of necessity, the law of action. There is no oth-
er law under which it is conceivable that we
can act.

VII. It follows from this system, again, that no
individual can make an effort to change the ha-
bitual character of his volitions, — and of course
cannot resist his passions, or introduce any intel-
lectual or moral discipline other than that in
which he is actually placed, or undertake any en-
terprise that shall be opposite to the one in which
he is engaged, or not part or consequent of the
same.

If he effect any change directly in the habitual
character of his volitions, he must do it by a vo-
lition ; that is, he must will different from his ac-
tual will, — his will must oppose itself in its own
act : but this is absurd, the system itself being
judge. As, therefore, the will cannot oppose it-
self, a new volition can be obtained only by pre-
senting a new motive ; but this is equally impos-
sible. To present a new motive is to call up new
objects and circumstances in relation to the actu-
al state of the mind, touching upon some princi-
ples which had been slumbering under the habit-
ual volitions ; or the state of the mind itself must
be changed in relation to the objects now before
it ; or a change must take place both of subject

edwards's system. 107

and object, — for the motive lies in the correla-
tion of the two. But the volition to call up new
objects and circumstances in relation to some
principle of the mind that had been slumbering, —
for example, fear, — must itself have a motive ;
but the motive to call up objects of fear must pre-
exist, if it exist at all. If it pre-exist, then of ne-
cessity the volition to call up objects of fear will
take place ; and it will not be a change effected
by the man himself, out of the actually existing
state of mind and objects. If there be no such
motive pre-existing, then it would become neces-
sary to present a new motive, to cause the choice
of objects of fear ; and here would be a recur-
rence of the original difficulty, — and so on, ad in-
finitum.

If the problem be to effect a change in the
state of the mind in relation to existing objects,
in the first place, this cannot be effected by a di-
rect act of will, for the act of will is caused by
the state of mind, and this would be an effect
changing or annihilating its cause.

Nor can it be done indirectly. For to do it
indirectly, would be to bring influences to bear
upon the state of mind or the sensitivity ; but the
choice and volition of these influences would re-
quire a motive — but the motive to change the
stale of mind must pre-exist in the state of mind

108 I 0583 QUBHCBfl «»F

itself. And thus wc have on the one hand, to
shew the possibility of finding a principle in the
state of mind on which to bring about its change.
And then if this be shown, the change is not re-
ally a change, but a new developcnient of the
long chain of the necessary causes and volitions.
And on the other, if this be not shown, we must
find a motive to change the state of mind in or-
der to a change of the state : but this motive, if it
exist, must pre-exist in the state of mind. If it
pre-exist, then no change is required : if it do
not, then we must seek still an antecedent motive,
and so in endless retrogression. If the problem
be to change both subject and object, the same
difficulties exist in twofold abundance.

The grand difficulty is to find a. primum mobile,
or first mover, when the very act of seeking im-
plies a primum mobile, which the conditions of the
act deny.

Any new discipline, therefore, intellectual or
moral, a discipline opposite to that which the
present state of the mind would naturally and
necessarily bring about, is impossible.

Of course, it is impossible to restrain passion,
to deny or mortify one's self. The present voli-
tion is as the strongest present desire — indeed, is
the strongest present desire itself. " Will and

edwards's system. 109

desire do not run counter at all." "A man never in
any instance, wills anything contrary to his desires,
or desires anything contrary to his will." (p. 17.)
Hence to restrain a present passion would be to
will against will — would be to desire opposite
ways at the same moment. Desires may be rel-
atively stronger and weaker, and the stronger
will overcome the weaker ; but the strongest de-
sire must prevail and govern the man ; it is ut-
terly impossible for him to oppose any resistance,
for his whole power, activity, and volition, are in
the desire itself.

He can do nothing but will : and the nature
and direction of his volitions are, at least in refer-
ence to any effort of his own, immutable as ne-
cessity itself.

A III. All exhortations and persuasions which
call upon the man to bestir himself, to think, to
plan, to act, are inconsistent and absurd. In all
such exhortations and persuasions, the man is urg-
ed to will or put forth volitions, as if he were the
author, the determiner of the volitions. It may
be replied, 'that the man does will, that the voli-
tions are his volitions.' But then he wills only pas-
sively, and these volitions are his only because they
appear in his consciousness. You exhort and
persuade him to arouse himself into activity ; but
10

1 10 ( ON81 Ql BIN i;.S OF

what is his real condition according to this sys-
tem ' The exhortations and persuasions do them-
selves contain the motive power; and instead of
arousing himself to action, he is absolutely and
necessarily passive under thejmdtives you present,
"Whether he be moved or not, as truly and abso-
lutely depends upon the motives you present, as
the removing of any material mass depends upon
the power and lever applied. And die material
mass, whether it be wood or stone, may with as
much propriety be said to arouse itself as the
man ; and the man's volition is his volition in no
other sense than the motion of the material mass
is its motion* In the one case, the man per-
ceives ; and in the other case, the material mass
does not perceive — but perception is granted by
all parties to be necessary ; the addition of per-
ception, therefore, only modifies the character of
the being moved, without altering the nature of
his relation to the power which moves him. In
the material mass, too, we have an analogous pro-
perty, so far as motion is considered. For as mo-
tive cannot determine the will unless there be
perception, so neither can the lever and power
move the mass unless it possess resistance, and
cohesion of parts. If I have but the wisdom to
discover the proper correlation of object and sen-

EDWARDS S SYSTEM. Ill

sitivity in the case of individuals or of masses of
men, I can command them in any direction I
please, with a necessity no less absolute than that
with which a machine is caused to work by the
application of a steam or water-power.

When I bring motives before the minds of my
fellow-beings in the proper relation, the volition
is necessarily produced ; but let me not forget,
that in bringing these motives I put forth volitions,
and that of course I am myself moved under the
necessity of some antecedent motive. My per-
suasions and exhortations are necessary sequents,
as well as necessary antecedents. The water
must run through the water-course ; the wheel
must turn under the force of the current ; I must
exhort and persuade when motives determine me.
The minds I address must yield when the mo-
tives are properly selected.

IX. Divine commands, warnings, and rebukes,
when obeyed and yielded to, are obeyed and
yielded to by the necessary force which thevpos-
sess in relation to the state of mind to which they
arc addressed. When not obeyed and yielded to.
they fail necessarily, through a moral inability on
the part of the mind addressed * or, in other v.
through the want of a proper correlation between
them and the state of mind addressed : that is,

1 12 i iinmiji knces or

there is not in the case a sufficient power to pro-
duce the required volitions, and their existence of
course is an utter impossibility.

Divine commands, warnings, and rebukes, pro-
duce volitions of obedience and submission, only
as they produce the sense of the most agreeable :
and as the will of the creature can have no part
in producing ihis sense, since this would be pro-
ducing a volition by a volition, it is produced in a
correlation antecedent to will, and of course by a
positive necessity. This is so clear from all that
has gone before, that no enlargement here is re-
quired.

When no obedience and submission take place,
it is because the divine commands, warnings, and
rebukes, do not produce the sense of the most
agreeable. And as the will of the creature can
have no part in producing this sense, since this
would be producing a volition by a volition ; and
as it is produced in a correlation antecedent to
\\ ill, and of course by a positive necessity ; so like-
wise the will of the creature can have no part in
preventing this sense from taking place. The vo-
lition of obedience and the volition of disobedience
arc manifestations "of the antecedent correlations
of certain objects with the subject, and are neces-
sarily determined by the nature of the correlation.

EDWARDS S SYSTEM. 113

Now the Divine Being must know the precise
relation which his commands will necessarily hold
to the vast variety of mind to which they are ad-
dressed, and consequently must know in what ca-
ses obedience will be produced, and in what cases
disobedience. Both results are equally necessary*
The commands have therefore, necessarily and
fitly, a twofold offices When they come into con-
nexion with certain states of mind, they necessa-
rily and fitly produce what we call obedience {
when in connexion with other states of mind,
they necessarily and fitly produce what we call
rebellion : and as all volitions are predetermined
and fixed by a necessary and infinite wisdom, and
are therefore in their time and place the best, it
must follow that rebellion no less than obedience
is a wise and desirable result.

The consequences I am here deducing seem
almost too shocking to utter. But show me,
he that can, that they are not logical deduc-
tions from this system ? I press the system to
its consequences, — not to throw any reproach
upon those great ard good men who unfortunate-
ly were led away by a false philosophy, but to
expose and bring to its close this philosophy itself.
It has too long been consecrated by its association
with the good. I know I shall be justified in the
10*

1 1 1 rami *i bw bs of

honest, though bold work, of destroying this un-
natural and portentous alliance.

X. The sense of guilt and shame and the fear
of retribution cannot, according to this system,
have a real and necessary connexion with any
volitions, but must be regarded as prejudices or
errors of education, from which philosophy will
serve to relieve us.

Edwards labours to prove, (part iv. sec. 1.) that
virtue and vice lie essentially in the volitions
themselves, and that of course the consciousness
of evil volitions is the consciousness of guilt. I
will, or put forth volitions. The volitions are
mine, and therefore I am guilty. This reason-
ing is plausible, but not consequential ; for, ac-
cording to this system, I put forth volitions in
entire passivity : the volitions appear necessari-
ly and by antecedent motives in my conscious-
ness, and really are mine only because they are
produced in me. Connected with this may be
the perception that those volitions are wrong ; but
if there is likewise the conviction that they arc
necessary, and that to suppose them different from
what they are, is to suppose what could not pos-
sibly have been, — since a series of sequents and
antecedents connect these volitions which now ap-
pear, by absolutely necessary relations, with a first

EDWARDS S SYSTEM.

and necessary cause, — then the sense of guilt
and shame, and the judgement I ought to be pun-
ished, can have no place in the human mind. It
is of no avail to tell me that I will, and, accord-
ing to the common judgement of mankind, I must
be guilty when I will wrong, — if, at the same
time, philosophy teaches me that I will under the
necessary and inevitable governance of an ante-
cedent motive. The common judgement of man-
kind is an error, and philosophy must soon dissi-
pate the sense of guilt and shame, and of moral
desert, which have hitherto annoyed me and made
me fearful : and much more must such a result
ensue, when I take into consideration, likewise,
that the necessity which determines me, is a ne-
cessity which takes its rise in infinite and neces-
sary wisdom.

What is true of guilt and retribution is true al-
so of well-doing and reward. If I do well, the
volitions being determined by an antecedent ne-
cessity, I could not possibly have done otherwise.
It does not answer the conditions of the case at
all, to say I might have done otherwise, if I had
willed to do otherwise ; because the will to do as
I actually am doing, is a will that could not have
been otherwise. Give me, then, in any action
called good, great, noble, glorious, etc. the con-

1 ]G ( ONBSQUBIN BB OF

viction that the choice of this action was a neces-
sary choice, predetermined in a long and unbro-
ken chain of necessary antecedents, and the sense
of praise\vorthiness,and the judgement I ought to
be rewarded, remain no longer.

Merit and demerit are connected in our minds
with our volitions, under the impression that the
good we perform, we perform in opposition to
temptation, and with the power and possibility of
doing evil ; and that the evil we perform, we per-
form in opposition to motives of good, and with
the power and possibility of doing good. But
when we are* informed that all the power and
possibility of a conduct opposite to our actual
conduct is this, — that if we had put forth oppo-
site volitions, there would have been opposite ex-
ternal acts, but that nevertheless the volitions
themselves were necessary, and could not have
been otherwise, — we cannot but experience a
revulsion of mind. We perhaps are first led to
doubt the philosophy, — or if, by acute reason-
ings, or by the authority of great names, we are
influenced to yield an implicit belief, — the sense
of merit and demerit must either die away, or be
maintained by a hasty retreat from the regions of
speculation to those of common sense.

XI. It follows from this system, also, that na-

edwards's system. 117

ture and spirit, as causes or agents, cannot be dis-
tinguished in their operations.

There are three classes of natural causes or
agents generally acknowledged : 1. Inanimate. —
as water, wind, steam, magnetism, &c. ; 2. Ani-
mate, but insensible, — as the life and affinities of
plants ; 3. Animate and sensitive, or brute animal
power.

These all properly come under the denomina-
tion of natural, because they are alike necessita-
ted. " Whatever is comprised in the chain and
mechanism of cause and effect, of course necessi-
tated, and having its necessity in some other thing
antecedent or concurrent, — this is said to be nat-
ural ; and the aggregate and system of all such
things is nature." Now spirit, as a cause or agent.
by this system, comes under the same definition :
in all its acts it is necessitated. It is in will par-
ticularly that man is taken as a cause or agent,
because it is by will that he directly produces
phenomena or effects ; and by this system it is
not possible to distinguish, so far as neces-ary
connexion is considered, a chain of antecedents
and sequents made up of motives, volitions, and
the consequents of volitions, from a chain of se-
quents and antecedents into which the three first
mentioned classes of natural agents enter. V

119 CONSEQUFJfCBE Of

the several classes have peculiar and distinguish'
ing characteristics ; but in the relation of antece-
dence and sequence, — their relation as causes or
agents producing effects, — no distinction can be
perceived. Wind, water, &c. form one kind of
cause ; organic life forms another ; brute organi-
zation and sensitivity another ; intelligent volition
another : but they are all necessary, absolutely
necessary ; and therefore they are the co-ordinate
parts of the one system of nature. The differ-
ence which exists between them is a difference
of terms merely. There is no difference in the
nature of the relation between the terms. The
nature of the relation between the water-wheel
and the water, — of the relation between the or-
ganic life of plants and their developement, —
of the relation between passion and volition in
brutes, — of the relation between their efforts and
material effects, — and the nature of the relation
between motive and volition, — are one : it is the
relation of cause and effect considered as stated
antecedent and sequent, and no more and no less
necessary in one subject than in another.

XII. It follows, again, that sensations produced
by external objects, and all emotions following
perception, and all the acts of the intelligence,
whether in intuitive knowledge or in ratiocination,

edwards's system. 119

are as really our acts, and acts for which we are
as really responsible, if responsibility be granted to
exist, as acts of volition. Sensations, emotions,
perceptions, reasonings, are all within us ; they all
lie in our consciousness ; they are not created by
our volitions, like the motions of the hands and
feet ; they take place by their own causes, just as
volitions take place by their causes. The relation
of the man to all is precisely the same. He is in
no sense the cause of any of these affections of
his being ; he is simply the subject : the subject of
sensation, of perception, of emotion, of reasoning,
and of volition ; and he is the subject of all by
the same necessity.

XIII. The system of punishment is only a sys-
tem accommodated to the opinions of society.

There is nothing evil in itself, according to this
system of necessity, as we have already shown.
Ever}7 thing which takes place is, in its time,
place, and relations generally, the necessary re-
sult of necessary and infinite wisdom. But still it
is a fact that society are desirous of preventing
certain acts, — such as stealing, adulter}', murder,
&c. ; and they are necessarily so desirous. Now
the system of punishment is a mere collection of
motives in relation to the sense of pain and the
emotion of fear, which prevent the commission of

1*20 ' ON8BQ1 i \< i:s of

these ads. Where these acts do take place, it is
best they Bhould take place ; but where they are
prevented by the fear of punishment, it is best
they should be prevented. Where the criminal
Buffers, he has no right to complain, because it is
best that he should suffer; and yet, if he does
complain, it is best that he should complain. The
system of punishment is good, as every thing else
is good. The system of divine punishments must
be considered in the same light. Indeed, what
are human punishments, when properly consid-
ered, but divine punishments ? They are com-
prehended in the pre-ordained and necessary
chain of being and events.

XIV. Hence we must conclude, also, that there
cannot really be any calamity. The calamities
which we may at any time experience, we ought
to endure and rejoice in, as flowing from the
same perfect and necessary source. But as ca-
lamity does nevertheless necessarily produce suf-
fering and uneasiness, and the desire of relief, we
may be permitted to hope that perfect relief and
entire blessedness will finally ensue, and that the
final blessedness will be enhanced just in propor-
tion to the present suffering.

The necessitarian may be an optimist of a
high order. If he commits what is called crime,

edwards's system. 121

and remorse succeeds, and punishment is inflicted
under law, the crime is good, the remorse is good,
the punishment is good, all necessary and good,
and working out, as he hopes, a result of pure
happiness. Nothing can be bad in itself: it may
be disagreeable ; but even this will probably give
way to the agreeable. And so also with all afflic-
tions : they must be good in themselves, although
disagreeable, — and will probably lead the way to
the agreeable, just as hunger and thirst, which are
disagreeable, lead the way to the enjoyments of
eating and drinking. All is of necessity, and of
a necessary and perfect wisdom.

XV. But as all is of necessity, and of a neces-
sary and perfect wisdom, there really can no
more be folly in conduct, or error in reasoning
and belief, than there can be crime and calamity,
considered as evils in themselves. Every act that
we call folly is a necessary act, in its time, place,
and relations generally, and is a necessary conse-
quence of the infinite wisdom ; but a necessary
consequence of infinite wisdom cannot be oppos-
ed to infinite wisdom ; so that what we call folly,
when philosophically considered, ceases to be
folly.

In any act of pure reasoning, the relations seem
necessary, and the assent of the mind is neces-
11

122 CONSEQUENCES OF

sary. Tins is granted by all parties. But it must
be admitted, that when men are said to reason
falsely, and to yield their assent to false conelu-
. the relations seem necessary to them : and.
according to this system, they necessarily so seem,
and cannot seem otherwise: and the assent of the
mind is also necessary.

The reasoning, to others, would be false rea-
soning, because it so necessarily seems to them ;
but to the individual to whom it seems different,
it must really be different, and be good and valid
reasoning.

Again : as all these different reasonings and be-
liefs proceed necessarily from the same source,
they must all be really true where they seem
true, and all really false where they seem false.
It would follow, from this, that no one can really
be in a false position except the hypocrite and
sophist, pretending to believe and to be what he
does not believe and what he is not, and purpose-
ly reasoning falsely, and stating his false conclu-
sions as if they were truths. I say this would
follow, were we not compelled by this system to
allow that even the hypocrite and sophist cannot
hold a false position, inasmuch as his position is
a necessary one, predetermined in its necessary
connexion with the first necessary wisdom.

EDWABD8S -V^TT-.M. 123

XVI. Another consequence of this system is
fatalism, — or, perhaps, more properly speaking,
the system is itself a system of fatalism.

This, indeed, has already been made to appear
substantially. The word, however, has not yet
been used. I here, then, charge directly this con-
sequence or feature upon the system.

Fatalism is the absolute negation of liberty.
This system is fatalism, because it is the absolute
negation of liberty.

No liberty is contended for, in this system, in
relation to man, but physical liberty : viz. that
when he wills, the effect will follow, — that when
he wills to walk, he walks, &c. " Liberty, as I
have explained it, is the power, opportunity, or
advantage, that any one has to do as he pleases,
or conducting himself in any respect according to
his pleasure, without considering how his pleasure
comes to be as it is." (p. 291.)

In the first place, this is no higher liberty than
what brutes possess. They have power, opportu-
nity, or advantage, to do as they please. Effects
follow their volitions by as certain a law as effects
follow the volitions of men.

In the second place, this is no higher liberty
than slaves possess. Slaves uniformly do as they
please. If the motive be the lash, or the fear of

124 CONSEQUENCES OF

the lash, still, in their case as well as in that
of brutes under similar circumstances, the volition
which takes place is the most pleasing at the mo-
ment. The slave and the animal do what is most
pleasing to them, or do according to their pleas-
ure, when the one drags the plough and the other
holds it. Nay, it is impossible for any animal, ra-
tional or irrational, to act without doing what is
most pleasing to him or it. Volition is always as
the greatest apparent good, or as the sense of the
most pleasant or agreeable.

If any should reply that slaves and animals arc
liable to be fettered, and this distinguishes them
from the free, I rejoin that every being is liable
to various restraints ; none of us can do many
things which in themselves appear desirable, and
would be objects of volition if there were known
to be an established connexion between them and
our wills. We are limited in our actions by the
powers of nature around us ; we cannot overturn
mountains, or command the winds. We are
limited in the nature of our physical being. We
are limited by our want of wealth, knowledge,
and influence. In all these respects, we may,
with as much propriety as the slave, be regarded
as deprived of liberty. It docs not avail to say
that. as we never really will what we know to be

edwards's system. 125

impossible or impracticable, so in relation to such
objects, neither liberty or a want of liberty is to
be affirmed ; for the same will apply to the fet-
tered slave ; he does not will to walk or run
when he knows it to be impossible. But in rela-
tion to him as well as to every other being, accord-
ing to this system it holds true, that whether he
act or forbear to act, his volitions are as the most
agreeable.

All creatures, therefore, acting by volition, are
to be accounted free, and one really as free as
another.

In the third place, the liberty here affirmed be-
longs equally to every instance of stated antece-
dence and sequence.

The liberty which is taken to reside in the
connexion between volition and effects, is a liberty
lying in a connexion of stated antecedence and
sequence, and is perfect according as this connex-
ion is necessary and unimpeded. The highest
form of liberty, therefore, is to be found in the
most absolute form of necessity. Liberty thus
becomes identified also with power : where there
is power, there is liberty ; and where power is
the greatest, that is, where it overcomes the most
obstacles and moves on irresistibly to its effects,
there is the greatest degree of liberty. God is
11*

12G CON8EQ1 BNCE8 <>l

the most free of all beings, because nothing car,
impede his will. His volitions arc always the
antecedents of elfects.

But obviously \vc do not alter the relation, when
we change the terms. If liberty lie in the stated
antecedence of volition to effects, and if libcrt\ if
measured by the necessity of the relation, then
when the antecedent is changed, the relation re-
maining the same, liberty must still be present.
For example : when a volition to move the arm
is followed by a motion of the arm, there is liber-
ty : now let galvanism be substituted for the vo-
lition, and the effect as certainly takes place ; and
as freedom is doing as we please, or will, " with-
out considering how this pleasure (or will) comes
to be as it is ;" that is, without taking its motive
into the account. So likewise, freedom may be
affirmed to be doing according to the galvanic
impulse, "without considering how'" that impulse
" comes to be as it is."

If we take any other instance of stated ante-
cedence and sequence, the reasoning is the same.
For example, a water wheel in relation to the mill-
stone : when the wheel turns, the mill-stone moves.
In this case freedom may be defined : the mill-
stone moving according to the turn of the wheel,
M without considering how" that turn of the wheel

edwards's system. 1J7

" comes to be as it is." In the case of human
freedom, freedom is defined, doing according to
our volitions, without considering how the volition
comes to be as it is ; doing " according to choice,
without taking into the meaning of the word any-
thing of the cause of that choice." (p. 39.)

If it be said that in the case of volition, we
have the man of whom to affirm freedom ; but in
the case of the wheel and mill-stone, we have
nothing of which liberty can properly be affirmed.
I reply, that liberty must be affirmed, and is pro-
perly affirmed, of that to which it really belongs ;
and hence as volition is supposed to belong to the
spiritual essence, man ; and this spiritual essence
is pronounced free, because volition appears in it.
and is attended by consequences : — so, likewise,
the material essence of the wheel may be pro-
nounced free, because motion belongs to it, and
is followed by consequences. As every being
that has volition is free, so likewise every thing
that hath motion is free : — in every instance of
cause and effect, we meet with liberty.

But volition cannot be the characteristic of lib-
erty, if volition itself be governed by necessity :
and yet this system which affirms liberty, where-
evcr there is unimpeded volition, makes volition a
necessary determination. In the fact of unimpe-

128 consequences or

dcd volition, it gives liberty to all creatures that
have volition ; and then again, in the fact of the
necessary determination of volition it destroys the
possibility of liberty. But even where it affirms
liberty to exist, there is no new feature to charac-
terize it as liberty. The connexion between voli-
tion and its stated consequences, is a connexion
as necessary and absolute as the connexion be-
tween the motive and the volition, and between
any antecedent and sequent whatever. That my
arm should move when I make a volition to this
effect, is just as necessary and just as incompre-
hensible too, as that water should freeze at a given
temperature : when the volition is impeded, we
have only another instance of necessity, — a lesser
force overcome by a greater.

The liberty therefore which this system affirms
in the fact of volition and its unimpeded con-
nexion with its consequents, is an assumption — a
mere name. It is a part of the universal necessity
arbitrarily distinguished and named. As liberty
does not reside in human volition, so neither can
it reside in the divine volition. The necessary
dependence of volition upon motive, and the ne-
cessary sequence of effects upon volition, can no
more be separated from the divine mind than
from ours. It is a doctrine which, if true, is im-

EDWAKDS's SYSTEM. 129

plied in the universal conception of mind. It be-
longs to mind generically considered. The crea-
tion of volition by volition is absurd in itself — it
cannot but be an absurdity. The determination
of will by the strongest motive, if a truth is a
truth universally ; on this system, it contains the
whole cause and possibility of volition. The
whole liberty of God, it is affirmed, is contained
in this, to do as pleases him, or, in other words,
that what he wills is accomplished, and necessa-
rily accomplished : what pleases him is also fixed
in the necessity of his own nature. His liberty,
therefore, by its own definition, differs nothing
from necessity.

If the movements of mind are necessary, no
argument is required to prove that all being and
events are necessary. We are thus bound up in a
universal necessity. Whatever is, is, and cannot
be otherwise, and could not have been otherwise.
As therefore there is no liberty, we are reduced
to the only remaining alternative of fatalism.

Edwards does not indeed attempt to rebut
wholly the charge of fatalism, (part iv. § vi.) In
relation to the Stoics, he remarks: — "It seems
they differed among themselves ; and probably
the doctrine of fate as maintained by most of
them, was, in some respects, erroneous. But

130 CONSEQUENCES OF

whatever their doctrines was, if any of them held
such a fate, as is repugnant to any liberty, consist'
ing in our doing as we please, I utterly deny such
a fate." He objects to fatalism only when it
should deny our actions to be connected with our
pleasure, or our sense of the most agreeable, that
is our volition. But this connexion we have fully
proved to be as necessary as the connexion be-
tween the volition and its motive. This reserva-
tion therefore does not save him from fatalism.

In the following section, (sec. vii.) he repre-
sents the liberty and sovereignty of God as con-
sisting in an ability " to do whatever pleases him."
His idea of the divine liberty, therefore, is the
same as that attributed to man. That the divine
volitions are necessarily determined, he repeated-
ly affirms, and indeed represents as the great ex-
cellence of the divine nature, because this neces-
sity of determination is laid in the infinite wisdom
and perfection of his nature.

If necessity govern all being and events, it i •
cheering to know that, it is necessity under the
forms of infinite wisdom and benevolence. But
still it remains true that necessity governs. If
" it is no disadvantage or dishonour to a being,
necessarily to act in the most excellent and hap-
py manner from the necessary perfection of his

edwards's system. 131

own nature,'' still let us remember that under this
representation he docs act necessarily. Fate must
have some quality or form ; it must be what
we call good or evil : but in determining its qual-
ity, we do not destroy its nature. Now if we
call this fate a nature of goodness and wisdom,
eternal and infinite, we present it under forms
beautiful, benign, and glorious, but it is neverthe-
less fate, — and as such it governs the divine vo-
litions ; and through the divine volitions, all the
consequents and effects of these volitions ; — the
universe of being and things is determined by
fate ; — and all volitions of angels or men are de-
termined by fate — by this fate so beautiful, be-
nign, and glorious. Now if all things thus pro-
ceeding from fate were beautiful, benign, and glo-
rious, the theory might not alarm us. But that
deformity, crime, and calamity should have place
as developements of this fate, excites uneasiness.
The abettors of this system, however, may per-
haps comfort themselves with the persuasion that
deformity, crime, and calamity, are names not of
realities, but of the limited conceptions of man-
kind. We have indeed an instance in point in
Charles Bonnet, whom Dugald Stewart men-
tions as - a very learned and pious disciple of
Leibnitz." Says Bonnet — "Thus the same chain

\'.)2 CONSEQUENCES OF

embraces the physical and moral world, binds
the past to the present, the present to the future,
the future to eternity. That wisdom which has
ordained the existence of this chain, has doubtless
willed that of every link of which it is composed.
A Caligula is one of these links; and this link is
of iron. A Marcus Aurelius is another link ; and
this link is of gold. Both are necessary parts of
one whole, which could not but exist. Shall God
then be angry at the sight of the iron link ?
What absurdity ! God esteems this link at its
proper value. He sees it in its cause, and he
approves this cause, for it is good. God beholds
moral monsters as he beholds physical monsters.
Happy is the link of gold ! Still more happy if
he know that he is only fortunate. lie has at-
tained the highest degree of moral perfection, and
is nevertheless without pride, knowing that what
he is, is the necessary result, of the place which
he must occupy in the chain. The gospel is the
allegorical exposition of this system ; the simile
of the potter is its summary." He might have
added, " Happy is the link of iron, if he know
that he is not guilty, but at worst only unfortu-
nate ; and really not unfortunate, because holding
a necessary place in the chain which both as a
whole and in its parts, is the result of infinite wis-
dom."

edwards's system. 133

If anything more is required in order to estab-
lish this consequence of the system we are exam-
ining, I would call attention to the inquiry, wheth-
er after a contingent self-determining will there
remains any theory of action except fatalism ? A
contingent self-determining will is a will which is
the cause of its own volitions or choices — a self-
conscious power, self-moved and directed, and at
the moment of its choice, or movement towards
a particular object, conscious of ability of choos-
ing, or moving towards, an opposite object. Now
what conception have we to oppose to this but
that of a will not determining itself, — not the
cause of its own volitions, — a power not self-
moved and directed, — and not conscious of abili-
ty at the moment of a particular choice, to make
a contrary choice ? And this last conception is
a will whose volitions are determined by some
power antecedent to itself, not contingently, but
necessarily. As the will is the only power for
which contingent self-determination is claimed, if
it be proved to be no such power, then no such
power exists. The whole theory of action and
causality will then be expressed as follows :

1. Absolute and necessary connexion of mo-
tives and volitions. 2. Absolute and necessary
connexion of volitions and effects. 3. Absolute
12

134 COHSBQUEKCEfl OF

and necessary connexion of all sequenls and an-
tecedents in nature. 4. Absolute and necessary
connexion of all things existent with a first and
necessary principle or cause. 5. The necessaiy
determination of this principle or cause.

Denying a contingent self-determining will, this
theory is all that remains. If liberty be affirmed
to reside in the 2d particular of this theory, it be-
comes a mere arbitrary designation, because the
nature of the relation is granted to be the same ;
it is not contingent, but necessary. Nor can lib-
erty be affirmed to reside in the 5th ; because in
the first place, the supposed demonstration of the
absurdity of a contingent self-determining will, by
infinite series of volitions, must apply to this great
first principle considered as God. And in the
second place, the doctrine of the necessary de-
termination of motive must apply here likewise,
since God as will and intelligence requires mo-
tives no less than we do. Such determination is
represented as arising from the very nature of
mind or spirit. Now this theory advanced in op-
position to a self-determining will, is plainly the
negation of liberty as opposed to necessity. And
this is all that can be meant by fatalism. Liberty
thus becomes a self-contradictory conception, and
fatalism alone is truth and reality.

EDWARDs's SYSTEM. 135

XVII. It appears to me also, that pantheism is
a fair deduction from this system.

According to this system, God is the sole and
universal doer — the only efficient cause. 1. His
volition is the creative act, by which all beings
and things exist. Thus far it is generally conce-
ded that God is all in all. " By him we live, and
move, and have our being." 2. The active powers
of the whole system of nature he has constituted
and regulated. The winds are his messengers,
The flaming fire his servant. However we may
conceive of these powers, whether as really pow-
ers acting under necessary laws, or as immediate
manifestations of divine energy, in either case it
is proper to attribute all their movements to God.
These movements were ordained by his wisdom,
and are executed directly or indirectly by his
will. Every effect which we produce in the ma-
terial world, we produce by instrumentality. Our
arms, hands, &x. are our first instruments. All
that we do by the voluntary use of these, we at-
tribute to ourselves. Now if we increase the in-
strumentality by the addition of an axe, spade, or
hammer, still the effect is justly attributed in the
same way. It is perfectly clear that to whatever
extent we multiply the instruments, the principle
is the same. Whether I do the deed directly

186 CONSEQUENCES OF

with my hand, or do it by an instrument held in
my hand, or by a concatenation of machinery,
reaching from "the centre to the utmost pole," —
if I contemplate the deed, and designedly accom-
plish it in this way, the deed is mine. And not
only is the last deed contemplated as the end of
all this arrangement mine, all the intermediary
movements produced as the necessary chain of
antecedents and sequents by which the last is to
be attained, are mine likewise.

I use powers and instruments whose energy
and capacity I have learned by experience, but
in whose constitution I have had no hand. They
are provided for me, and I merely use them. But
God in working by these, works by what his own
wisdom and power have created ; and therefore
a fortiori must every effect produced by these,
according to his design, and by his volition as at
least the first power of the series, be attributed to
him, — be called his doing. He causeth the sun
to rise and set. " He causeth the grass to grow
for the cattle, and herb for the service of man."
" lie watereth the hills from his chambers." This
is not merely poetry. It is truth.

Now the system we arc considering goes one
step further; it makes human volitions as much
the objects of the eternal design, and as really the

EDWAKDs's SYSTEM. 137

effects of the divine volition, as the rising of the
stars, the flight of the lightning, the tumult of the
waters, or the light which spreadeth itself like a
garment over creation. Every volition of created
mind is God's act, as really as any effect in nature.
We have seen how every volition is connected
with its motive ; how the motive lies in a pre-
constitution ; how the series of antecedents and
sequents necessarily runs back and connects itself
with the infinite wisdom. God's volition is his
own act ; the effect immediately produced by
that volition is his own deed. Let that effect be
the creation of man : the man in all his powers
and susceptibilities is God's work ; the objects
around him are God's work ; the correlation of
the objects with the sensitivity of man is God's
work ; the volition which necessarily takes place
as the result of this correlation is God's work.
The volition of the man is as strictly attributable
to God, as, according to our common apprehen-
sions, the blow which I give with an axe is attri-
butable to me. What is true of the first man,
must be equally true of the man removed by a
thousand generations, for the intermediary links
are all ordained by God under an inevitable ne-
cessity. God is really, therefore, the sole doer —
the only efficient, the only cause. All beings and
12*

138 CONSEQUENCES OF

things, all motion and all volition, are absolutely
resolved into divine volition. God is the author
ol' all beings, things, motions, and volitions, and
as much the author of any one of these as of any
other, and the author of all in the same way and
in the same sense. Set aside self-determining
will, and there is no stopping-place between a hu-
man volition and the divine volition. The human
volition is but the divine, manifested through a
lengthened it may be, but a connected and neces-
sary chain of antecedents and sequents. I see no
way of escaping from this, as a necessary and le-
gitimate consequence of the necessary determina-
tion of will. And what is this consequence but
pantheism ? God is the universal and all-perva-
ding intelligence — the universal and only power.
Every movement of nature is necessary ; every
movement of mind is necessary ; because neces-
sarily caused and determined by the divine voli-
tion. There is no life but his, no thought but his,
no efficiency but his. He is the soul of the world.
Spinosa never represented himself as an athe-
ist, and according to the following representation
appears rather as a pantheist. " He held that
God is the cause of all things ; but that he acts,
not from choice, but from necessity ; and, of con-
sequence, that he is the involuntary author of all

EDWARDS S SYSTEM. 139

the good and evil, virtue and vice, which are ex-
hibited in human life." (Dugald Stewart, vol. 6.
p. 276, note.)

Cousin remarks, too, that Spinosa deserves
rather the reproacli of pantheism than of atheism.
His pantheism was fairly deduced from the doctrine
of necessary determination, which he advocated.

XVIII. Spinosa, however, is generally consid-
ered an atheist. " It will not be disputed," say3
Stewart, M by those who comprehend the drift of
his reasonings, that in point of practical tendency
atheism and Spinosism are one and the same."

The following is Cousin's view of his system.
It apparently differs from the preceding in some
respects, but really tends to the same conclusions.

"Instead of accusing Spinosa of atheism, he
ought to be reproached for an error in the other
direction. Spinosa starts from the perfect and
infinite being of Descartes's system, and easily
demonstrates that such a being is alone a being
in itself; but that a being, finite, imperfect, and
relative, only participates of being, without pos-
sessing it, in itself: that a being in itself is one
necessarily : that there is but one substance ; and
that all that remains has only a phenomenal ex-
istence : that to call phenomena, finite substances,
is affirming and denying, at the same time ;

1 40 CONSEQUENCES OF

whereas, there being but one substance which
possesses being in itself, and the finite being that
which participates of existence without possessing
it in itself, a substance finite implies two contra-
dictory notions. Thus, in the philosophy of Spi-
nosa, man and nature are pure phenomena ; sim-
ple attributes of that one and absolute substance,
but attributes which are co-eternal with their sub-
stance : for as phenomena cannot exist without a
subject, the imperfect without the perfect, the
finite without the infinite, and man and nature
suppose God ; so likewise, the substance cannot
exist without phenomena, the perfect without the
imperfect, the infinite without the finite, and God
on his part supposes man and nature. The error
of his system lies in the predominance of the re-
lation of phenomenon to being, of attribute to sub-
stance, over the relation of effect to cause. When
man has been represented, not as a cause, volun-
tary and free, but as necessary and uncontrollable
desire, and as an imperfect and finite thought ;
God, or the supreme pattern of humanity, can be
only a substance, and not a cause — a being, per-
fect, infinite, necessary — the immutable substance
of the universe, and not its producing and creating
cause. In Cartesianism, the notion of substance
figures more conspicuously than that of cause ;

edwards's system. 141

and this notion of substance, altogether predomi-
nating, constitutes Spinosism." (Hist, de la Phil,
torn. 1. p. 4GG.)

The predominance of the notion of substance
and attribute, over that of cause and effect, which
Cousin here pronounces the vice of Spinosa's sys-
tem, is indeed the vice of every system which
contains the dogma of the necessary determina-
tion of will. The first consequence is pantheism ;
the second, atheism. I will endeavour to explain.
When self-determination is denied to will, and it
is resolved into mere desire, necessitated in all its
acts from its pre-constituted correlation with ob-
jects, then will really ceases to be a cause. It
becomes an instrument of antecedent power, but
is no power in itself, creative or productive. The
reasoning employed in reference to the human
will, applies in all its force to the divine will, as
has been already abundantly shown. The divine
will therefore ceases to be a cause, and becomes
a mere instrument of antecedent power. This
antecedent power is the infinite and necessary
wisdom ; but infinite and necessary wisdom is
eternal and unchangeable ; what it is now, it al-
ways was ; what tendencies or energies it has
now, it always had ; and therefore, whatever vo-
litions it now necessarily produces, it always ne-

142 CONSEQUENCES OF

ccssarily produced. If we conceive a volition to
have been, in one direction, the immediate and
necessary antecedent of creation ; and, in another,
the immediate and necessary sequent of infinite,
and eternal, and necessary wisdom ; then this vo-
lition must have always existed, and consequently,
creation, as the necessary effect of this volition,
must have always existed. The eternal and infi-
nite wisdom thus becomes the substance, because
this is existence in itself, no antecedent being con-
ceivable ; and creation, consisting of man and na-
ture, imperfect and finite, participating only of ex-
istence, and not being existence in themselves, are
not substances, but phenomena. But what is the
relation of the phenomena to the substance ? Not
that of effect to cause; — this relation slides en-
tirely out of view, the moment will ceases to be a
cause. It is the relation simply of phenomena to
being, considered as the necessary and insepara-
ble manifestations of being ; the relation of attri-
butes to substance, considered as the necessary
and inseparable properties of substance. We can-
not conceive of substance without attributes or
phenomena, nor of attributes or phenomena with-
out substance ; they are, therefore, co-eternal in
this relation. Who then is God ? Substance and
its attributes ; being and its phenomena. In other

edwards's system. 143

words, the universe, as made up of substance and
attributes, is God. This is Spinosism ; this is pan-
theism ; and it is the first and legitimate conse-
quence of a necessitated will.

The second consequence is atheism. In the
denial of will as a cause per se, — in resolving all
its volitions into the necessary phenomena of the
eternal substance, — we destroy personality : wo
have nothing remaining but the universe. Now
we may call the universe God ; but with equal
propriety we call God the universe. This destruc-
tion of personality, — this merging of God into
necessary substance and attributes, — is all that
we mean by Atheism. The conception is really
the same, whether we name it fate, pantheism,
or atheism.

The following remark of Dugald Stewart,
shows that he arrived at the same result : " What-
ever may have been the doctrines of some of the
ancient atheists about man's free agencv, it will
not be denied that, in the history of modern phi-
losophy, the schemes of atheism and of necessitv
have been hitherto always connected together.
Not that I would by any means be understood to
say. that every necessitarian must ipso facto be
an atheist, or even that any presumption is afford-
ed, by a man's attachment to the former sect, of

Mi CONSEQUENCES OF

his having the slightest bias in favour of the lat-
ter : hut only that ever}' modern atheist I have
heard of has been a necessitarian. I cannot help
adding, that the most consistent necessitarians
who have yet appeared, have been those who
followed out their principles till they ended in
Spinosism, — a doctrine which differs from athe-
ism more in words than in reality." (Vol. 6,
p. 470.)

Cudworth, in his great work entitled " The
true Intellectual System of the Universe," shows
clearly the connexion between fatalism and
atheism. This work seems to have grown out
of another undertaking, which contemplated spe-
cifically the question of liberty and necessity, and
its bearing upon morality and religion. The pas-
sage in the preface, in which he informs us of his
original plan, is a very full expression of his opin-
ion. " First, therefore, I acknowledge," says he,
" that when I engaged the press, I intended only
a discourse concerning liberty and necessity, or,
to speak out more plainly, against the fatal neces-
sity of all actions and events ; which, upon what-
soever grounds or principles maintained, will, as
we conceive, serve the design of atheism, and un-
dermine Christianity, and all religion, as taking
away all guilt and blame, punishments and re-

edwards's system. 145

wards, and plainly rendering a day of judgement
ridiculous." This opinion of the tendency of the
doctrine of a necessitated will, is the germ of his
work. The connexion established in his mind be-
tween this doctrine and atheism, naturally led
him to his masterly and elaborate exposition and
refutation of the latter.

The arguments of many atheists might be re-
ferred to, to illustrate the connexion between ne-
cessity and atheism. I shall here refer, how-
ever, to only one individual, remarkable both for
his poetic genius and metaphysical acumen. I
mean the late Piercy Bysshe Shelley. He openly
and unblushingly professed atheism. In his Queen
Mab we find this line : " There is no God." In
a note upon this line, he remarks : " This nega-
tion must be understood solely to affect a creative
Deity. The hypothesis of a pervading spirit, co-
eternal with the universe, remains unshaken."
This last hypothesis is Pantheism. Pantheism is
really the negation of a creative Deity, — the
identity or at least necessary and eternal co-exist-
ence of God and the universe. Shelley has ex-
pressed this clearly in another passage :

"Spirit of nature! all-sufficing power,
Necessity ! thou mother of the world !"'

In a note upon this passage, Shelley has ar-
13

1 50 CONSSQUZlfCE

gw .I the doctrine of the necessary determination
of will by motive, with an acuteness and power
scarcely inferior to Collins or Edwards. lie
makes, indeed, a different application of the doc-
trim i, but a perfectly legitimate one. Collins and
Edwards, and the whole race of necessitarian
theologians, evidently toil under insurmountable
difficulties, while attempting to base religion upon
this doctrine, and effect their escape only under a
fog of subtleties. But Shelley, in daring to be
perfectly consistent, is perfectly clear. He fear-
lessly proceeds from necessity to pantheism, and
thence to atheism and the destruction of all mor-
al distinctions. " We are taught," he remarks,
u by the doctrine of necessity, that there is neither
good nor evil in the universe, otherwise than as
the events to which we apply these epithets have
relation to our own peculiar mode of being. Still
less than with the hypothesis of a God, will the
doctrine of necessity accord with the belief of a
future state of punishment."

I here close my deductions from this system.
If these deductions be legitimate, as I myself can-
not doubt they are, then, to the largest class of
readers, the doctrine of necessity is overthrown :
it is overthrown by its consequences, and my

ED\VARP>"> SYSTEM. 1 17

argument has the force of a rcductio ad absurd um.
If a self-determined will appear an absurdity, still
it cannot be as absurd as the contrary doctrine, if
this doctrine involve the consequences above giv-
en. At least, practical wisdom will claim that
doctrine which leaves to the world a God, and to
man a moral and responsible nature.

A question will here very naturally arise :
How can we account for the fact that so many
wise and good men have contended for a neces-
sitated will, as if they were contending for the
great basis of all morality and religion l For ex-
ample, take Edwards himself, as a man of great
thought and of most fervent piety. In the whole
of his treatise, he argues with the air and manner
of one who is opposing great errors as really con-
nected with a self-determined will. What can
be stronger than the following language : " I think
that the notion of liberty, consisting in a contin-
gent self-determination of the will, as necessary to
the morality of men's dispositions and actions, is
almost inconceivably pernicious ; and that the
contrary truth is one of the most important truths
of moral philosophy that ever was discussed, and
most necessary to be known." The question is a
fair one, and I will endeavour to answer it.

1. The impossibility of a self-determining will

1 18 CONSEQUENCES OF

as being in itself a contradictory idea, and as
leading to the consequence of affirming the exist-
ence of elVects without causes, takes strong hold
of the mind in these individuals. This I believe,
and hope to prove in the course of this treatise,
to be a philosophical error; — but it is no new
thills for great and good men to fall into philoso-
phical errors.

As, therefore, the liberty consisting in a self-de-
termining will, or the liberty of indifference, as it
has been technically called, is conceived to be ex-
ploded, they endeavour to supply a liberty of
spontaneity, or a liberty lying in the unimpeded
connexion between volition and sequents.

Hobbes has defined and illustrated this liberty
in a clearer manner than any of its advocates :
" I conceive,'' says he, " liberty to be rightly de-
fined,— the absence of all impediments to action,
that are not contained in the nature and intrinsi-
cal quality of the agent. As for example, the
water is said to descend freely, or is said to have
liberty to descend by the channel of the river, be-
cause there is no impediment that way ; but not
across, because the banks are impediments : and
though water cannot ascend, yet men never say,
it wants the liberty to ascend, but the faculty or
power, because the impediment is in the nature of

EDWAKDS'S SYSTEM. 149

the water, and intrinsical. So also we say, he
that is tied, wants the liberty to go, because the
impediment is not in him, but in his hands; where-
as, we say not so of him who is sick or lame, be-
cause the impediment is in himself," — that is, he
wants the faculty or power of going : — this con-
stitutes natural inability. Liberty is volition act-
ing upon physical instrumentalities, or upon men-
tal faculties, according to a fixed and constituted
law of antecedents, and meeting with no impedi-
ment or overcoming antagonistic power. Natu-
ral ability is the fixed and constituted antecedence
itself. Hence there may be natural ability with-
out liberty ; but liberty cannot be affirmed with-
out natural ability. Both are necessary to con-
stitute responsibility. Natural ability is volition
known as a stated antecedent of certain effects.
Liberty is this antecedent existing without impedi-
ment or frustration. Since this is the only possible
liberty remaining, and as they have no wish to be
considered fatalists, they enlarge much upon this ;
not only as the whole of liberty actually existing,
but as the full and satisfactory notion of liberty.

In basing responsibility and praise and blame-
worthiness upon this liberty, an appeal is made to
the common ideas, feelings, and practices of men.
Every man regards himself as free when he does
13*

150 CONSEQUENCES OF

as he pleases, — when, if he pleases to walk, he
walks, — when, if he pleases to sit down, he sits
down, Sec. If a man, in a court of justice, were
to plead in excuse that he committed the crime
because he pleased or willed to do it, the judge
would reply — " this is your guilt, that you pleased
or willed to commit it : nay, your being pleased or
willing to commit it was the very doing of it."
Now all this is just. I readily admit that we are
free when we do as we please, and that we arc
guilty when, in doing as we please, we commit a
crime.

Well, then, it is asked, is not this liberty suffi-
cient to constitute responsibility ? And thus the
whole difficulty seems to be got over. The rea-
soning would be very fair, as far as it goes, if em-
ployed against fatalists, but amounts to nothing
when employed against those who hold to the
self-determining power of the will. The latter
receive these common ideas, feelings, and prac-
tices of men, as facts indicative of freedom, be-
cause they raise no question against human free-
dom. The real question at issue is, how are we
to account for these facts ? The advocates of self-
determining power account for them by referring
them to a self-determined will. We say a man
is free when he does as he pleases or according
to his volitions, and has the sense of freedom in

edwards's system. 151

iiis volitions, because he determines his own voli-
tions ; and that a man is guilty for crime, if com-
mitted by his volition, because he determined this
volition, and at the very moment of determining
it, was conscious of ability to determine an oppo-
posite volition. And we affirm, also, that a man
is free, not only when he docs as he pleases, or,
in other words, makes a volition without any im-
pediment between it and its object, — he is free, if
he make the volition without producing effects
by it : volition itself is the act of freedom. But
how do those who deny a self-determining pow-
er account for these facts ? They say that the
volition is caused by a motive antecedent to it,
but that nevertheless, inasmuch as the man feels
that he is free and is generally accounted so, he
must be free : for liberty means nothing more than
" power and opportunity to do and conduct as he
will, or according to his choice, without taking in-
to the meaning of the word any thing of the cause
of that choice, or at all considering how the per-
son came to have such a volition," — that is, the
man is free, and feels himself to be so, when he
does as he pleases, because this is all that is meant
by freedom.

But suppose the objection be brought up, that
the definition of liberty here given is assumed, ar-

152 ( oN^EQUENCES OF

bitrary, and unsatisfactory ; and that the sense
or consciousness of freedom in the act of volition,
and the common sentiments and practices of men
in reference to voluntary action, are not ade-
quately accounted for, — then the advocates of
necessitated volition return to the first argument,
of the impossibility of any other definition, — and
affirm that, inasmuch as this sense of freedom
does exist, and the sentiments and practices of
men generally correspond to it, we must believe
that we are free when volition is unimpeded in
its connexion with sequents, and that we are
blame or praiseworthy, according to the perceiv-
ed character of our volitions, — although it can-
not but be true that the volitions themselves are
necessary. On the one hand, they are compelled
by their philosophy to deny a self-determining
will. On the other hand, they are compelled, by
their moral sense and religious convictions, to up-
hold moral distinctions and responsibility. In or-
der to do this, however, a quasi liberty must be
preserved : hence the attempt to reconcile liber-
ty and necessity, by referring the first exclusively
to the connexion between volition and its se-
quents, and the second exclusively to the connex-
ion between the volition and its antecedents or
motives. Liberty is physical ; necessity is meta-

EDWAItDS's SYSTEM. 153

physical. The first belongs to man ; the second
transcends the sphere of his activity, and is not
his concern. In this very difficult position, no
better or more ingenious solution could be devis-
ed ; but that it is wholly illogical and ineffectual,
and forms no escape from absolute and universal
necessity, has already been abundantly proved.

2. The philosophers and divines of whom we
are speaking, conceive that when volitions are
supposed to exist out of the necessary determina-
tion of motives, they exist fortuitously and with-
out a cause. But to give up the necessary and
universal dependence of phenomena upon causes,
would be to place events beyond the divine con-
trol : nay, more, — it would destroy the great
a posteriori argument for the existence of a God.
Of course it wrould be the destruction of all mo-
rality and religion.

3. The doctrine of the divine foreknowledge,
in particular, is much insisted upon as incompati-
ble with contingent volitions. Divine foreknow-
ledge, it is alleged, makes all events certain and
necessary. Hence volitions are necessary ; and,
to carry out the reasoning, it must be added like-
wise that the connexion between volitions and
their sequents is equally necessary. God fore-
sees the sequent of the volition as well as the vo-

164 CONSEQUENCE- OF

litidii. The theory, however, is careful to pre-
serve the name of liberty, because it fears the de-
signation which properly belongs to it.

4. By necessary determination, the sovereignty
of (-'id ami the harmony of his government are
preserved. His volitions are determined by his
infinite wisdom. The world, therefore, must be
ruled in truth and righteousness.

These philosophers and divines thus represent
to themselves the theory of a self-determining
will as an absurdity in itself, and, if granted to be
true, as involving the most monstrous and disas-
trous consequences, while the theory which they
advocate is viewed only in its favourable points,
and without reaching forth to its legitimate con-
sequences. If these consequences are urged by
another hand, they are sought to be evaded by
concentrating attention upon the fact of volition
and the sense of freedom attending it : for exam-
ple, if fatalism be urged as a consequence of this
theory, the ready reply is invariably — " No such
necessity is maintained as goes to destroy the lib-
erty which consists in doing as one pleases ;" or
if the destruction of responsibility be urged as a
consequence, the reply is — "A man is always
held a just subject of praise or blame when he
acts voluntarily." The argumentation undoubt--

edwards's system. 155

edly is as sincere as it is earnest. The interests
at stake are momentous. They are supposed to
perish, if this philosophy be untrue. No wonder,
then, that, reverencing and loving morality and re-
ligion, they should by every possible argument aim
to sustain the philosophy which is supposed to lie
at their basis, and look away from consequences
so destructive, persuading themselves that these
consequences are but the rampant sophistries of
infidelity.

It is a wonderful fact in the history of philoso-
phy, that the philosophy of fate, pantheism, and
atheism, should be taken as the philosophy of re-
ligion. Good men have misapprehended the phi-
losophy, and have succeeded in bringing it into
fellowship with truth and righteousness. Bad
men and erring philosophers have embraced it in
a clear understanding of its principles, and have
both logically reasoned out and fearlessly owned
its consequences.

XIX. Assuming, for the moment, that the defi-
nition of liberty given by the theologians above
alluded to, is the only possible definition, it must
follow that the most commonly received modes
of preaching the truths and urging the duties of
religion are inconsistent and contradictory.

A class of theologians has been found in the

156 COMBSQUBlfCBfl OF

church, who, perhaps without intending absolute-
ly to deny human freedom, have denied all abili-
ty on the part of man to comply with the divine
precepts. A generic distinction between inability
and a want of freedom is not tenable, and cer-
tainly is of no moment, where, as in this rase, the
inability contended for is radical and absolute.

These theologians clearly perceived, that if vo-
lition is necessarily determined by motive, and if
motive lies in the correlation of desire and object,
then, in a being totally depraved, or a being of
radically corrupt desires, there can be no ability
to good deeds : the deed is as the volition, and
the volition is as the strongest desire or the sense
of the most agreeable.

Hence these theologians refer the conversion
of man exclusively to divine influence. The man
cannot change his own heart, nor employ any
means to that end ; for this would imply a volition
for which, according to the supposition, he has no
ability.

Now, at the same time, that this class represent
men as unable to love and obey the truths of reli-
gion, they engage with great zeal in expounding
these truths to their minds, and in urging upon
them the duty of obedience. But what is the aim
of this preaching ? Perhaps one will reply, I know

UNIVERSIT

EDWARDS S SYSTKM.

the man cannot determine himself to obedience,
but in preaching to him, I am presenting motives
which may influence him. But in denying his
ability to do good, you deny the possibility of
moving him by motives drawn from religious
truth and obligation. His heart, by supposition, is
not in correlation with truth and duty ; the more,
therefore, you preach truth and duty, the more
intense is the sense of the disagreeable which you
awaken. As when you present objects to a man's
mind which are correlated to his feelings, the
more clearly and frequently you present them, the
more you advance towards the sense of the most
agreeable or choice. So when you present ob-
jects which are not correlated to his feelings, the
more clearly and frequently you present them,
the more you must advance towards the sense of
the most disagreeable, or positive refusal.

If it be affirmed, in reply to this, that the pre-
sentation of truth forms the occasion or condition
on which the divine influence is exerted for the
regeneration of the heart, then I ask, why do you
urge the man to repent, and believe, and love
God, and discharge religious duty generally, and
rebuke him for sin, when you know that he is
utterly unable to move, in the slightest degree,
towards any of these affections and actions, and
14

158 CONSEQUENCES OF

utterly unable to leave off sinning, until the divine
influence be exerted, which brings his heart into
correlation with religion, and makes it possible for
him to put forth the volitions of piety and duty?
It can be regarded in no other light than playing
a solemn farce, thus to rebuke and urge and per-
suade, as if the man ought to make some exertion
when you feel convinced that exertion is impossi-
ble. It certainly can form no occasion for divine
interposition, unless it be in pity of human folly.
If you say that such a course does succeed in the
conversion of men, then we are constrained to
believe that your philosophy is wrong, and that
your practice succeeds, because inconsistent with
it, and really belonging to some other system
which you know not, or understand not and deny.
A total inability to do good makes man the
passive subject of influences to be employed for
his regeneration, and he can no more be consid-
ered active in effecting it than he is in the process
of digesting food, or in the curative action of

DO *

medicines upon any diseased part of his system.
If you urge him to exert himself for his regenera-
tion, you urge him to put forth volitions which,
according to this philosophy, are in no sense pos-
sible until the regeneration has been effected, or
at least commenced.

edwards's system. 159

I will go one step farther in this reasoning : —
on supposition of total inability, not only is the in-
dividual a passive subject of regenerating influ-
ences, but he is also incapable of regeneration, or
any disposition or tendency towards regeneration,
from any influences which lie merely in motives,
produced by arraying objects before the mind.
Motive, according to the definition, exhibited in
the statement of Edwards's system, lies in the
nature and circumstances of the object standing
in correlation with the state of mind. Now the
state of mind, in an unregenerate state, is a state
represented by this system itself, as totally adverse
to the objects of religion. Hence, there is no
conceivable array of religious truth, and no con-
ceivable religious exhortation and persuasion that
could possibly come into such a relation to this
state of mind as to form the motive of a religious
choice or volition. It is perfectly plain, that be-
fore such a result could take place, the state of
mind itself would have to be changed. But as
the array of religious truth and the energy of reli-
gious exhortation must fail to produce the requir-
ed volitions, on account of the state of mind, so
neither can the state of mind be changed by this
array of truth or by this exhortation. There is a
positive opposition of mind and object, and the

100 CONSEQUENCES OF

collision becomes more severe upon every attempt
to bring them together. It must follow, therefore,
that preaching truth and duty to the unregcnerate,
so far from leading to their conversion, can only
serve to call out more actively the necessary de-
termination, not to obey. The very enlightening
of the intelligence, as it gives a clearer perception
of the disagreeable objects, only increases the dis-
inclination.

Nor can we pause in this consequence, at human
instrumentality. It must be equally true, that if
divine interposition lies in the presentation of truth
and persuasions to duty, only that these are given
with tenfold light and power, it must fail of accom-
plishing regeneration, or of producing any tenden-
cy towards regeneration. The heart being in no
correlation with these, — its sense of the disagree-
able,— and therefore the energy of its refusal will
only be the more intense and decided.

If it should be remarked that hope and fear are
feelings, which, even in a state of unregeneracy,
can be operated upon, the state of things is equally
difficult. No such hope can be operated upon as
implies desire after religious principles and enjoy-
ments ; for this cannot belong to the corrupt na-
ture ; nor can any fear be aroused which implies
a reverence of the divine purity, and an abhor-

EDW.VUDs's SYSTEM. 10]

rence of sin. The fear could only relate to dan-
ger and suffering ; and the hope, to deliverance
and security, independently of moral qualities.
The mere excitement of these passions might
awaken attention, constrain to an outward obedi-
ence, and form a very prudent conduct, but could
effect no purification of the heart.

There is another class of theologians, of whom
Edwards is one, who endeavour to escape the
difficulties which attend a total inability, by making
the distinction of moral and natural inability : —
man, they say, is morally unable to do good, and
naturally able to do good, and therefore he can
justly be made the subject of command, appeal,
rebuke, and exhortation. The futility of this dis-
tinction I cannot but think has already been made
apparent. It may be well, however, inasmuch as
so great stress is laid upon it, to call up a brief
consideration of it in this particular connexion.

Moral inability, as we have seen, is the impos-
sibility of a given volition, because there are no
motives or causes to produce it. It is simply the
impossibility of an effect for the want of a cause :
when we speak of moral cause and effect, accord-
ing to Edwards, we speak of nothing different from
physical cause and effect, except in the quality of
the terms — the relation of the terms is the same.
14*

1G'2 CONSEQUENCES OF

The impossibility of a given volition, therefore,
when the appropriate motive is wanting, is equal
to the impossibility of freezing water in the sun
of a summer's noon-tide.*

When objects of volition are fairly presented,
an inability to choose them must lie in the state
of the mind, sensitivity, desire, will, or affections,
for all these have the same meaning according to
this system. There is no volition of preference
where there is no motive to this effect ; and there is
no motive to this effect where the state of the mind
is not in correlation with the objects presented :
on the contrary, the volition which now takes
place, is a volition of refusal.

Natural inability, as defined by this system, lies
in the connexion between the volition considered
as an antecedent, and the effect required. Thus
I am naturally unable to walk, when, although I

* "It is remarkable that the advocates for necessity have adopt-
ed a distinction made use of for other purposes, and forced it into
their service ; I mean moral and natural necessity. They say
natural or physical necessity takes away liberty, but moral ne-
cessity does not : at the same time they explain moral necessity
so as to make it truly physical or natural. That is physical ne-
cessity which is the invincible effect of the law of nature, and it is
neither less natural, nor less insurmountable, if it is from the
laws of spirit than it would be if it were from the laws of matter."
— (Witherspoon's Lectures on Divinity, lect. xiii.)

BDWABDS's system. 103

make the volition, my limbs, through weakness or
disease, do not obey. Any defect in the powers
or instrumentalities dependent for activity upon
volition, or any impediment which volition cannot
surmount, constitutes natural inability.* Accord-
ing to this system, I am not held responsible for
anything which, through natural inability, cannot
be accomplished, although the volition is made.
But now let us suppose that there is no defect in
the powers or instrumentalities dependent for
activity upon volition, and no impediment which
volition cannot surmount, so that there need be
only a volition in order to have the effect, and
then the natural ability is complete: — I will to
walk, and I walk.

Now it is affirmed that a man is fairly respon-
sible for the doing of anything, and can be fairly
urged to do it when all that is necessary for the
doing of it is a volition — although there may be
a moral inability to the volition itself.

Nothing it seems to me can be more absurd
than this distinction. If liberty be essential to

* Natural inability, and a want of liberty, arc identified in this
usage ; for the want of a natural faculty essential to the perform-
ance of an action, and the existence of an impediment or antag-
onistic force, which takes from a faculty supposed to exist, the
liberty of action, have the same bearing upon responsibility.

H*>1 CONSEQUENCES OF

responsibility, liberty, as we have clearly shown,
can no more lie in the connexion between volition
and its effects, than in the connexion between vo-
lition and its motives. One is just as necessary
as the other. If it be granted to be absurd with
the first class of theologians to urge men to do
right when they are conceived to be totally una-
ble to do right, it is equally so when they are
conceived to have only a natural ability to do
right, — because this natural ability is of no avail
without a corresponding moral ability. If the
volition take place, there is indeed nothing to pre-
vent the action ; nay, "the very willing is the do-
ing of it ;" but then the volition as an effect can-
not take place without a cause ; and to acknow-
ledge a moral inability, is nothing less than to ac-
knowledge that there is no cause to produce the
required volition.

The condition of men as represented by the
second class of theologians, is not really different
from their condition as represented by the first
class. The inability under both representations
is a total inability. In the utter impossibility of
a right volition on these, is the utter impossibility
of any good deed.

When we have denied liberty, in denying a
self-determining power, these definitions in order

edwards's systkm. 1G5

to make out a quasi liberty and ability, are noth-
ing but ingenious folly and plausible deception.

You tell the man, indeed, that he can if he
will : and when he replies to you, that on your
own principles the required volition is impossible,
you refer him to the common notions of mankind.
According to these, you say a man is guilty when
he forbears to do right, since nothing is wanting
to right-doing but a volition, — and guilty when
he does wrong, because he wills to do wrong.
According to these common notions, too, a man
may fairly be persuaded to do right, when noth-
ing is wanting but a will to do right. But do we
find this distinction of natural and moral ability in
the common notions of men ? When nothing is
required to the performance of a deed but a vo-
lition, do men conceive of any inability whatever ?
Do they not feel that the volition has a metaphysi-
cal possibility as well as that the sequent of the
volition has a physical possibility ? Have we
not at least some reason to suspect that the phi-
losophy of responsibility, and the basis of rebuke
and persuasion lying in the common notions of
men, are something widely different from the
scheme of a necessitated volition ?

This last class of theologians, equally with the
first, derive all the force of their preaching from

10G CONSEQUENCES OF

a philosophy, upon which they arc compelled to
act, but which they stoutly deny. Let them car-
ry out their philosophy, and fur preaching no
place remains.

Preaching can produce good ellects only by
producing good volitions ; and good volitions can
be produced only by good motives: but good mo-
tives can exist under preaching only when the
subjects of the preaching are correlated with the
state of mind. But by supposition this is not the
case, for the heart is totally depraved.

To urge the unregeneratc man to put forth vo-
litions in reference to his regeneration, may con-
sist with a self-determining power of will, but is
altogether irrelevant on this system. It is urging
him to do what he cannot do ; and indeed what
all persuasion must fail to do in him as a mere
passive subject. To assure him that the affair is
quite easy, because nothing is required of him but
to will, is equivalent to assuring him that the af-
fair is quite easy, because it will be done when
he has done it. The man may reply, the affair
would indeed be quite easy if there existed in me
a motive to produce the volition ; but as there
does not, the volition is impossible. And as I
cannot put forth the volition without the motive,
so neither can I make the motive which is to pro-

edwards's system. 107

duce the volition — for then an effect would make
its cause. What I cannot do for myself, I fear
neither you, nor indeed an angel from heaven
will succeed in doing for me. You array the
truths, and duties, and prospects of religion be-
fore my mind, but they cannot take the character
ot motives to influence my will, because they are
not agreeable to my heart.

You indeed mean well ; but do you not per-
ceive that on your own principles all your zeal
and eloquence must necessarily have an opposite
effect from what you intend ? My affections
not being in correlation with these subjects, the
more you urge them, the more intense becomes
my sense of the most disagreeable, or my positive
refusal ; and this, my good friends, by a necessity
which holds us all alike in an inevitable and ever-
during chain.

It is plainly impossible to escape from this con-
clusion, and yet maintain the philosophy. All
efforts of this kind, made by appealing to the
common sentiments of mankind, we have seen
are self-contradictory. It will not do to press
forward the philosophy until involved in difficulty
and perplexity, and then to step aside and bor-
row arguments from another system which is as-
sumed to be overthrown. There is no necessity

1G8 COlfSSQUBHCKS OF

more absolute and sovereign, than a logical nc-

i ! \ . ■

Will. The Cardinal principles of Edwards's
system in the sections we have been examining,
from which the above consequences are deduced,
are the three following:

1. The will is always determined by the strong-
est motive.

2. The strongest motive is always " the most
agreeable."

3. The will is necessarily determined.

* It is but justice to remark here, that the distinction of moral
and natural inability is made by many eminent divines, without
intending anything so futile as that we have above exposed. By
moral inability they do not appear to mean anything which really
render the actions required, impossible ; but such an impediment
as lies in corrupt affections, an impediment which may be re-
moved by a self-determination to the use of means and applian-
ces graciously provided or promised. By natural ability they
mean the possession of all the natural faculties necessary to the
performance of the actions required. In their representations of
this natural ability, they proceed according to a popular method,
rather than a philosophical. They affirm this natural ability as a
fact, the denial of which involves monstrous absurdities, but they
give no psychological view of it. This task I shall impose upon
myself in the subsequent volume. I shall there endeavour to
point out the connexion between the sensitivity and the will, both
in a pure and a corrupt state, — and explain what these natural
faculties are, which, according to the just meaning of these divines,
form the ground of rebuke and persuasion, and constitute respon-
sibility.

edwards's system. 1G9

I shall close this part of the present treatise
with a brief examination of the reasoning by
which he endeavours to establish these points.

The reasoning by which the first point is aimed
to be established, is the general reasoning respect-
ins cause and effect. Volition is an effect, and
must have a cause. Its cause is the motive lying
in the correlation of mind and object. When
several physical causes conflict with each other,
we call that the strongest which prevails and pro-
duces its appropriate effects, to the exclusion of
the others. So also where there are several
moral causes or motives conflicting with each
other, we call that the strongest which prevails.
Where a physical cause is not opposed by any
other force, it of course produces its effect; and
in this case we do not say the strongest cause
produces the effect, because there is no compari-
son. So also there are cases in which there is
but one moral cause or motive present, when
there being no comparison, we cannot affirm
that the volition is determined by the strongest
motive : the doing of something may be en-
tirely agreeable, and the not doing of it may be
utterly disagreeable : in this case the motive is
only for the doing of it. But wherever the case
contains a comparison of causes or of motives, it

]5

1^0 ( 0N8EQUENCE8 OF

must be true that the effect which actually takes
place, is produced by the strongest cause or mo-
tive. This indeed is nothing more than a truism,
or a mere postulate, as if we should say, — let a
cause or motive producing effects be called the
strongest. It may be represented, also, as a j)c-
hiio principii, or reasoning in a circle, — since the
proof that the will is determined by the strongest
motive is no other than the fact that it is deter-
mined. It may be stated thus : The will is deter-
mined by the strongest motive. How do you
know this ? Because it is determined. How does
this prove it ? Because that which determines it
must be the strongest.*

* " The great argument that men are determined by the strong-
est motives, is a mere equivocation, and what logicians call pe-
titio principii. It is impossible even to produce any medium of
proof that it is the strongest motive, except that it has prevailed.
It is not the greatest in itself, nor docs it seem to be in all re-
spects the strongest to the agent ; but you say it appears strong-
est in the meantime. Why ? Because you arc determined by
it. Alas! you promised to prove that I was determined by the
ttrongest motive, and you have only shown that I had a motive
when I acted. But what has determined you then ? Can any
effect be without a cause? I answer — supposing my self-de-
termining power to exist, it is as real a cause of its proper and
distinguishing effect, as your moral necessity: so that the matter
just conies to a stand, and is but one and the same thing on one
side and o 1 the other.'' — (Withcrspoon's Lectures, lect. xiii.)

edwards's system. 171

Edwards assumes, also, that motive is the cause
of volition. This assumption he afterwards en-
deavours indirectly to sustain, when he argues
against a self-determining will. If the will do not
cause its own volitions, then it must follow that
motive is the cause. The argument against a
self-determining will we are about to take up.

2. Tlie strongest motive is always the most agree-
able. Edwards maintains that the motive which
always prevails to cause volition, has this charac-
teristic, — that it is the most agreeable or pleas-
ant at the time, and that volition itself is nothing
but the sense of the most agreeable. If there
should be but one motive present to the mind, as
in that case there would be no comparison, we
presume he would only say that the will is deter-
mined by the agreeable.

But how are we to know whether the motive
of every volition has this characteristic of agreea-
bleness, or of most agreeableness, as the case may
be ? We can know it only by consulting our con-
sciousness. If, whenever we will, we find the
sense of the most agreeable identified with the
volition, and if we are conscious of no power of
willing, save under this condition of willing what
is most agreeable to us, then certainly there re-
mains no farther question on this point. The de-

172 CONSBQl F.NCES OF

termination of consciousness is final. Whether
such be the determination of consciousness, we
are hereafter to consider.

Does I'M wards appeal to consciousness?

He does, — but without formally announcing
it. The following passage is an appeal to con-
sciousness, and contains Edwards's whole thought
on this subject : " There is scarcely a plainer and
more universal dictate of the sense and experience
of mankind, than that when men act voluntarily,
and do what they please, then they do what suits
them best, or what is most agreeable to them. To
say that they do what jrfeases them, but yet what
is not agreeable to them, is the same thing as to
say, they do what they please, but do not act their
pleasure ; and that is to say, that they do what
they please, and yet do not what they please." (p.
25.) Motives differ widely, intrinsically consider-
ed. Some are in accordance with reason and
conscience ; some are opposed to reason and con-
science. Some are wise ; some are foolish. Some
are good ; some are bad. But whatever may be
their intrinsic properties, they all have this cha-
racteristic of agreeableness when they cause voli-
tion ; and it is by this characteristic that their
strength is measured. The appeal, however,
which is made to sustain this, is made in a way to

edwards's system. 173

beg the very point in question. Will not every
one admit, that " when men act voluntarily and
do what tlicy please, they do what suits them best,
and what is most agreeable to them ?" Yes. Is
it not a palpable contradiction, to say that men
"do what pleases them," and yet do " what is not
agreeable to them," according to the ordinary use
of these words? Certainly.

But the poiet in question is, whether men, act-
ing voluntarily, always do what is pleasing to
them : and this point Edwards assumes. He as-
sumes it here, and he assumes it throughout his
treatise. We have seen that, in his psychology,
he identifies will and desire or the affections : —
hence volition is the prevailing desire or affection,
and the object which moves the desire must of
course appear desirable, or agreeable, or pleas-
ant ; for they have the same meaning. If men
always will what they most desire, and desire
what they will, then of course when they act vol-
untarily, they do what they please ; and when
they do what they please, they do what suits
them best and is most agreeable to them.

Edwards runs the changes of these words with
great plausibility, and we must say deceives him-
self as well as others. The great point, — wheth-
er will and desire are one, — whether the volition
15*

1" 1 ( 0N8BQITBNCE8 OF

is as the most agreeable, — lie takes up at the be-
gioning as an unquestionable fact, and adheres to
throughout as such ; but he never once attempts
an analysis of consciousness in relation to it, ade-
quate and satisfactory. His psychology is an as-
sumption.

3. The will is necessarily determined.

How does Edwards prove this? 1. On the
general connexion of causes and effects. Causes
necessarily produce effects, unless resisted and
overcome by opposing forces ; but where several
causes are acting in opposition, the strongest will
necessarily prevail, and produce its appropriate
effects.

Now, Edwards affirms that the nature of the
connexion between motives and volitions is the
same with that of any other causes and effects.
The difference is merely in the terms : and when
he calls the necessity which characterizes the
connexion of motive and volition " a moral neces-
sity." he refers not to the connexion itself, but
only to the terms connected. In this reasoning
he plainly assumes tl.at the connexion betveen
cause and effect in general, is a necessary con-
nexion ; that is, all causation is necessary. A
contingent, self-determining cause, in his system,
is characterized as an absurdity. Hence he lays

edwards's system. 175

himself open to all the consequences of a univer-
sal and absolute necessity.

2. He also endeavours to prove the necessity
of volition by a method of approximation, (p. 33.)
He here grants, for the sake of the argument, that
the will may oppose the strongest motive in a
given case ; but then he contends that it is sup-
posable that the strength of the motive may be
increased beyond the strength of the will to resist,
and that at this point, on the general law of cau-
sation, the determination of the will must be con-
sidered necessary. " Whatever power," he re-
marks, " men may be supposed to have to sur-
mount difficulties, yet that power is not infinite."
If the power of the man is finite, that of the mo-
tive may be supposed to be infinite : hence the
resistance of the man must at last be necessarily
overcome. This reasoning seems plausible at
first ; but a little examination, I think, will show
it to be fallacious. Edwards does not determine
the strength of motives by inspecting their intrin-
sic qualities, but only by observing their degrees
of agrceableness. But agrecableness, by his own
representation, is relative, — relative to the will
or sensitivity. A motive of infinite strength would
be a motive of infinite agrecableness, and could
be known to be such only by an infinite sense of

176 CONSBQUBirCM Off KDWARDs's SYSTEM.

agrecableness in the man. The same of course
must hold true of any motive less than infinite :
and universally, whatever be the degree of strength
of the motive, there must be in the man an affec-
tion of corresponding intensity. Now, if there
be a power of resistance in the will to any mo-
tive, which is tending strongly to determine it,
this power of resistance, according to Edwards,
must consist of a sense of agrecableness opposing
the other motive, which is likewise a sense of
agrecableness : and the question is simply, which
shall predominate and become a sense of the
most agreeable. It is plain that if the first be in-
creased, the second may be supposed to be in-
creased likewise ; if the first can become infinite,
the second can become infinite likewise : and
hence the power of resistance may be supposed
always to meet the motive required to be resist-
ed, and a point of necessary determination may
never be reached.

If Edwards should choose to throw us upon the
strength of motives intrinsically considered, then
the answer is ready. There are motives of infi-
nite strength, thus considered, which men are
continually resisting : for example, the motive
which urges them to obey and love God, and seek
the salvation of their souls.

III.

EXAMINATION OF THE ARGUMENTS

AGAINST A

SELF-DETERMINING WILL.

III.

AN EXAMINATION OF THE ARGUMENTS
AGAINST A SELF-DETERMINING AND
CONTINGENT WILL.

Edwards's first and great argument against a
self-determining will, is given in part II. sec. 1, of
his work, and is as follows :

The will,— or the soul, or man, by the faculty of
willing, effects every thing within its power as a
cause, by acts of choice. " The will determines
which way the hands and feet shall move, by an
act of choice ; and there is no other way of the
will's determining, directing, or commanding any
thing at all." Hence, if the will determines it-
self, it does it by an act of choice ; " and if it has
itself under its command, and determines itself in
its own actions, it doubtless does it in the same
way that it determines other things which are un-
der its command.'' But if the will determines its

180 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

choice by its choice, then of course we have an
infinite series of choices, or wc have a first choice
which is not determined by a choice, — "which
brings us directly to a contradiction ; for it sup-
poses an act of the will preceding the first act in
the whole train, directing and determining the
rest ; or a free act of the will before the first free
act of the will : or else we must come at last to
an act of the will determining the consequent
acts, wherein the will is not self-determined, and
so is not a free act, in this notion of freedom."
(p. 43.)

This reasoning, and all that follows in the at-
tempt to meet various evasions, as Edwards terms
them, of the advocates of a self-determining will,
depend mainly upon the assumption, that if the
will determines itself, it must determine itself by
an act of choice ; that is, inasmuch as those acts
of the will, or of the soul, considered in its power
of willing, or in its personal activity, by which ef-
fects are produced out of the activity or will itself,
are produced by acts of choice, for example,
walking and talking, rising up and sitting down :
therefore, if the soul, in the power of willing,
cause volitions, it must cause them by volitions.
The causative act by which the soul causes voli-
tions, must itself be a volition. This assumption

A SELF-DETERMINING WILL. 181

Edwards does not even attempt to sustain, but
takes for granted that it is of unquestionable va-
lidity. If the assumption be of unquestionable
validity, then his position is impregnable ; for
nothing can be more palpably absurd than the
will determining volitions by volitions, in an inter-
minable series.

Before directly meeting the assumption, I re-
mark, that if it be valid, it is fatal to all causal-
ity. Will is simply cause ; volition is effect. 1
affirm that the will is the sole and adequate
cause of volition. Edwards replies : if will is
the cause of volition, then, to cause it, it must
put forth a causative act; but the only act of will
is volition itself: hence if it cause its own voli-
tions, it must cause them by volitions.

Now take any other cause : there must be
some effect which according to the general views
of men stands directly connected with it as its
effect. The effect is called the phenomenon, or
that by which the cause manifests itself. But
how does the cause produce the phenomenon ?
By a causative act: — but this causative act, ac-
cording to Edwards's reasoning, must itself be an
effect or phenomenon. Then this effect comes
between the cause, and what was at first consid-
ered the immediate effect : but the effect in question
16

182 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

must likewise be caused by a causative act ; and
(his causative act, again, being' an effect, must
have another causative ad before it ; and so on,

ad infinitum. We have here then an infinite se-
ries of causative acts — an absurdity of the same
kind, with an infinite series of volitions.

It follows from this, that there can be no cause
whatever. An infinite series of causative acts,
without any first, being, according to this reason-
ing, the consequence of supposing a cause to cause
its own acts, it must therefore follow, that a cause
does not cause its own acts, but that they must
be caused by some cause out of the cause. But
the cause out of the cause which causes the cau-
sative acts in question, must cause these causative
acts in the other cause by a causative act of its
0Wn : — but the same difficulties occur in relation
to the second cause as in relation to the first ; it
cannot cause its own acts, and they must there-
fore be caused out of itself by some other cause ;
and so on, ad infinitum. We have here again the
absurdity of an infinite series of causative acts ;
and also, the absurdity of an infinite series of
causes without a first cause. Otherwise, we must
come to a first cause which causes its own acts,
without an act of causation ; but this is impossi-
ble, according to the reasoning of Edwards. As,
therefore, there cannot be a cause causing its own

A SELF-DETERMINING WILL. 183

acts, and inasmuch as the denial of this leads to
the absurdities above mentioned, we are driven to
the conclusion, that there is no cause whatever.
Every cause must either cause its own acts, or its
acts must be caused out of itself. Neither of these
is possible ; therefore, there is no cause.

Take the will itself as an illustration of this last
consequence. The will is cause ; the volition, ef-
fect. But the will does not cause its own voli-
tion : the volition is caused by the motive. But
the motive, as a cause, must put forth a causative
act in the production of a volition. If the motive
determine the will, then there must be an act of
the motive to determine the will. To determine,
to cause, is to do, is to act. But what determines
the act of the motive determining the act of the
will or volition ? If it determine its own act, or
cause its own act, then it must do this by a pre-
vious act, according to the principle of this reason-
ing ; and this again by another previous act ; and
so on, ad infinitum.

Take any other cause, and the reasoning must
be the same.

It may be said in reply to the above, that voli-
tion is an effect altogether peculiar. It implies
selection or determination in one direction rather
than in another, and therefore that in inquiring

184 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

after its cause, we inquire not merely after the
energy which makes it existent, but also after the
cause of its particular determination in one direc-
tion rather than in another. " The question is not
so much, how a spirit endowed with activity comes
to act, as why it exerts such an act, and not an-
other ; or why it acts with a particular determi-
nation ? If activity of nature be the cause why a
spirit (the soul of man, for instance) acts and does
not lie still ; yet that alone is not the cause why
its action is thus and thus limited, directed and
determined." (p. 50.)

Every phenomenon or effect is particular and
limited. It must necessarily be one thing and not
another, be in one place and not in another, have
certain characteristics and not others ; and the
cause which determines the phenomenon, may be
supposed to determine likewise all its properties.
The cause of a particular motion, for example,
must, in producing the motion, give it likewise a
particular direction.

Volition must have an object ; something is
willed or chosen ; particular determination and
direction are therefore inseparable from every vo-
lition, and the cause which really gives it a being,
must necessarily give it character, and particular
direction and determination.

A SELF-DETERMINING WILL. 185

Selection is the attribute of the cause, and an-
swers to particular determination and direction in
the effect. As a phenomenon or effect cannot
come to exist without a particular determination,
so a cause cannot give existence to a phenomenon,
or effect, without selection. There must neces-
sarily be one object selected rather than another.
Thus, if fire be thrown among various substances,
it selects the combustibles, and produces pheno-
mena accordingly. It selects and gives particu-
lar determination. We cannot conceive of cause
without selection, nor of effect without a particu-
lar determination. But in what lies the selection ?
In the nature of the cause in correlation with cer-
tain objects. Fire is in correlation with certain
objects, and consequently exhibits phenomena only
with respect to them. In chemistry, under the
title of affinities, we have wonderful exhibitions of
selection and particular determination. Now mo-
tive, according to Edwards, lies in the correlation
of the nature of the will, or desire, with certain
objects ; and volition is the effect of this correla-
tion. The selection made by will, arising from
its nature, is, on the principle of Edwards, like the
selection made by any other cause : and the par-
ticular determination or direction of the volition,
in consequence of this, is like that which appears
16*

18G EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

in every other effect. In the case of will, what-
ever effect is produced, is produced of necessity,
by ;i pro-constitution and disposition of will and
objects, just as in the case of any other cause.

Prom this it appears sufficiently evident, that on
Edwards's principles there is no such difference
between volition and any other effect, as to shield
his reasonings respecting a self-determining will,
against the consequences above deduced from
them. The distinction of final and efficient causes
does not lie in his system. The motive is that
which produces the sense of the most agreeable,
and produces it necessarily, and often in opposi-
tion to reason and conscience ; and this sense of
the most agreeable is choice or volition. It be-
longs to the opposite system to make this distinc-
tion in all its clearness and force — where the
efficient will is distinguished, both from the per-
suasions and allurements of passion and desire,
and from the laws of reason and conscience.

Thus far my argument against Edwards's as-
sumption,— that, to make the will the cause of
its own volitions, is to make it cause its volitions
by an act of volition, — has been indirect. If this
indirect argument has been fairly and legitimately
conducted, few probably will be disposed to deny
that the assumption is overthrown by its conse-

A. SELF-DETEKMINI3C WILL. 187

quences. In addition to the above, however, on
a subject so important, a direct argument will not
be deemed superfluous.

Self-determining will means simply a will caus-
ing its own volitions ; and consequently, particu-
larly determining and directing them. Will, in
relation to volition, is just what any cause is in
relation to its effect. Will causing volitions,
causes them just as any cause causes its effects.
There is no intervention of anything between the
cause and effect ; between will and volition. A
cause producing its phenomena by phenomena, is
a manifest absurdity. In making the will a self-
determiner, we do not imply this absurdity. Ed-
wards assumes that we do, and he assumes it as
if it were unquestionable.

The will, he first remarks, determines all our
external actions by volitions, as the motions of the
hands and feet. He next affirms, generally, that
all which the will determines, it determines in this
way ; and then concludes, that if it determines its
own volitions, they must come under the general
law, and be determined by volitions.

The first position is admitted. The second, in-
volving the last, he does not prove, and I deny
that it is unquestionable.

In the first place, it cannot legitimately be taken

188 EXAMINATION OK AKUUMKNTS AGAINST

as following from the first. The relation of will
to the sequents of its volitions, is not necessarily

the same as its relation to its volitions. The se-
quents of volitions are changes or modifications, in
external nature, or in parts of the being external
to the will ; but the volitions are modifications of
the will itself. Now if the modification of exter-
nal nature by the will can be effected only by that
modification of itself called volition, how does it
appear that this modification of itself, if effected
by itself, must be effected by a previous modifica-
tion of itself? We learn from experience, that
volitions have sequents in external nature, or in
parts of our being external to will ; but this expe-
rience teaches us nothing respecting the produc-
tion of volitions. The acts of the will are voli-
tions, and all the acts of wills are volitions ; but
this means nothing more than that all the acts of
the will are acts of the will, for volition means
only this — an act of the will. But has not the
act of the will a cause? Yes, you have assigned
the cause, in the very language just employed.
It is the act of the will — the will is the cause.
But how does the will cause its own acts ? I do
not know, nor do I know how any cause exerts
itself, in the production of its appropriate pheno-
mena; I know merely the facts. The connexion

A SELF-DETERMINING WILL. 189

between volition and its sequents, is just as won-
derful and inexplicable, as the connexion between
will and its volitions. How does volition raise the
arm or move the foot ? How does fire burn, or
the sun raise the tides ? And how does will cause
volitions ? I know not ; but if I know that such
are the facts, it is enough.

Volitions must have a cause ; but, says Edwards,
will cannot be the cause, since this would lead to
the absurdity of causing volitions by volitions. But
we cannot perceive that it leads to any such ab-
surdity.

It is not necessary for us to explain how a cause
acts. If the will produce effects in external na-
ture by its acts, it is impossible to connect wTith
this as a sequence, established either by experi-
ence or logic, that in being received as the cause
of its own acts, it becomes such only by willing its
own acts. It is clearly an assumption unsupport-
ed, and incapable of being supported. Besides, in
denying will to be the cause of its own acts, and
in supplying another cause, namely, the motive,
Edwards does not escape the very difficulty which
he creates ; for I have already shown, that the
same difficulty appertains to motive, and to every
possible cause. Every cause produces effects by
exertion or acting ; but what is the cause of its

190 EXAMINATION OF AKCI'.Mi:NTS AGAINST

acting ? To suppose it the cause of its own acts,
involves all the absurdities which Edwards attri-
butes to Belf-de termination. But,

Jn the second place! — let us look at the con-
nexion of cause and phenomena a little more parti-
cularly. What is cause ! It is that which is the
ground of the possible, and actual existence of
phenomena. How is cause known? By the phe-
nomena. Is cause visible ? No : whatever is
seen is phenomenal. We observe phenomena, and
by the law of our intelligence we assign them to
cause. But how do we conceive of cause as
producing phenomena ? By a nisus, an effort, or
energy. Is this nisus itsell a phenomenon? It
is when it is observed, Is it always observed ? It
is not. The nisus of gravitation we do not ob-
serve ; we observe merely the facts of gravita-
tion. The nisus of heat to consume we do not
observe ; we observe merely the facts of combus-
tion. Where then do we observe this nisus?
Only in will. Really, volition is the nisus or ef-
fort of that cause which we call will. I do not
wish to anticipate subsequent investigations, but
I am constrained here to ask every one to ex-
amine his consciousness in relation to this point.
When 1 wish to do anything I make an effort —
a nisus to do it ; I make an effort to raise my
arm, and I raise it. This effort is simply the vo-

A SELF-DETEUMININO WILL. 191

lition. I make an effort to lift a weight with my
hand, — this effort is simply the volition to lift it, —
and immediately antecedent to this effort, I recog-
nise only my will, or really only myself. This
effort — this nisus — this volition — whatever we
call it, — is in the will itself, and it becomes a
phenomenon to us, because we are causes that
know ourselves. Every ?iisus, or effort, or voli-
tion, which we may make, is in our consciousness :
causes, which are not self-conscious, of course do
not reveal this nisus to themselves, and they can-
not reveal it to us because it is in the very bosom
of the cause itself. What we observe in relation
to all^ causes — not ourselves, whether they be
self-conscious or not, is not the nisus, but the se-
quents of the nisus. Thus in men we do not ob-
serve the volition or nisus in their wills, but the
phenomena which form the sequents of the nisus.
And in physical causes, we do not observe the
nisus of these causes, but only the phenomena
which form the sequents of this nisus. But when
each one comes to himself, it is all different. He
penetrates himself — knows himself. He is him-
self the cause — he, himself, makes the nisus, and
is conscious of it ; and this nisus to him becomes
an effect — a phenomenon, the first phenomenon
by which he reveals himself, but a phenomenon

193 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

by which lie reveals himself only to himself. It
is by the sequents of this nisus, — the effects pro-
duced in the external visible world, — that he re-
veals himself to others.

Sometimes the nisus or volition expends itself
in the will, and gives no external phenomena. I
may make an effort to raise my arm, but my arm
may be bound or paralyzed, and consequently the
effort is in vain, and is not known without. How
energetic are the efforts made by the will during
a fit of the night-mare ! we struggle to resist some
dreadful force ; we strive to run away from dan-
ger — but all in vain.

It is possible for me to make an effort to re-
move a mountain : I may place my hand against
its side, and tug, and strive : the nisus or voli-
tion is the most energetic that I can make, but, save
the straining of my muscles, no external expression
of the energy of my will is given ; I am resisted
by a greater power than myself.

The most original movement of every cause is,
then, this nisus in the bosom of the cause itself,
and in man, as a cause, the most original move-
ment is this nisus likewise, which in him we call
volition. To deny such a Jiisus would be to deny
the activity, efficiency, and energy of cause. This
nisus, by its very conception and definition, ad-

A SELF-DETERMINING WILL. 193

admits of no antecedent, phenomenon, or move-
ment : it is in the substance of the cause ; its
first going forth to effects. A first movement or
nisus of cause is just as necessary a conception
as first cause itself. There is no conception to
oppose to this, but that of every cause having its
first movement determined by some other cause
out of itself — a conception which runs back in
endless retrogression without arriving at a first
cause, and is, indeed, the annihilation of all cause.

The assumption of Edwards, therefore, that if
will determine its own volitions, it must deter-
mine them by an act of volition, is unsupported
alike by the facts of consciousness and a sound
logic, — while all the absurdities of an infinite se-
ries of causation of acts really fasten upon his
own theory, and destroy it by the very weapons
with which it assails the opposite system.

In the third place, — Edwards virtually allows
the self-determining power of will.

Will he defines as the desire, the affections, or
the sensibility. There is no personal activity out
of the affections or sensitivity. Volition is as the
most agreeable, and is itself the sense of the most
agreeable. But what is the cause of volition ?
He affirms that it cannot be will, assuming that
to make will the cause of its own volitions, in-
17

194 EXAMINATION OF AUGVMKNTS AGAINST

volvcs the absurdity of willing volitions or choos-
iii" choices ; but at the same lime he affirms the
cause to be the state of the affections or will, in
correlation with the nature and circumstances of
objects. .But all natural causes are in correlation
with certain objects, — as, for example, heat is in
correlation with combustibles ; that is, these nat-
ural causes act only under the condition of meet-
ing with objects so constituted as to be suscepti-
ble of being acted upon by them. So, likewise,
according to Edwards's representation, we may-
say that the cause of volition is the nature and
state of the affections or the will, acting under the
condition of objects correlated to it. The sense
of the most agreeable or choice cannot indeed be
awakened, unless there be an object presented
which shall appear the most agreeable ; but then
its appearing most agreeable, and its awakening
the sense of the most agreeable, depends not only
upon " what appears in the object viewed, but
also in the manner of the view, and the state and
circumstances of the mind that views." (p. 22.)
Now " the state and circumstances of the mind
that viewrs, and the manner of its view," is simply
the mind acting from its inherent nature and un-
der its proper conditions, and is a representation
which answers to every natural cause with which

K SELF-DETERMINING WILL. 105

we are acquainted : the state of the mind, there-
fore, implying of course its inherent nature, may
with as much propriety be taken as the cause of
volition, on Edwards's own principles, as the na-
ture and state of heat may be taken as the cause
of combustion : but by " the state of mind," Ed-
wards means, evidently, the state of the will or
the affections. It follows, therefore, that he makes
the state of the will or the affections the cause of
volition ; but as the state of the will or the affec-
tions means nothing more in reference to will than
the state of any other cause means in reference to
that cause, — and as the state of a cause, imply-
ing of course its inherent nature or constitution,
means nothing more than its character and quali-
ties considered as a cause, — therefore he virtu-
ally and really makes will the cause of its own vo-
litions, as much as any natural cause is the cause
of its invariable scquents.

Edwards, in contemplating and urging the ab-
surdity of determining a volition by a volition,
overlooked that, according to our most common
and necessary conceptions of cause, the first
movement or action of cause must be determined
by the cause itself, and that to deny this, is in fact
to deny cause. If cause have not within itself a
nisus to produce phenomena, then wherein is it a

19G EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

cause ? He overlooked, too, that in assigning as
the cause or motive of volition, the state of the
will, he really gave the will a self-determining
power, and granted the very point he laboured to
overthrow .

The point in dispute, therefore, between us and
Edwards, is not, after all, the self-determining
power of the will. If will be a cause, it will be
self-determining ; for all cause is self-determining,
or, in other words, is in its inherent nature active,
and the ground of phenomena.

But the real point in dispute is this : " Is the
will necessarily determined, or not? •

The inherent nature of cause may be so consti-
tuted and fixed, that the nisus by which it deter-
mines itself to produce phenomena,shalltake place
according to invariable and necessary laws. This
we believe to be true with respect to all physical
causes. Heat, electricity, galvanism, magnetism,
gravitation, mechanical forces in general, and the
powers at work in chemical affinities, produce their
phenomena according to fixed, and, with respect
to the powers themselves, necessary laws. We
do not conceive it possible for these powers to
produce any other phenomena, under given cir-
cumstances, than those which they actually pro-
duce. When a burning coal is thrown into a

A CONTINGENT WILL. 197

mass of dry gunpowder, an explosion must take
place.

Now, is it true likewise that the cause which
we call will, must, under given circumstances, ne-
cessarily produce such and such phenomena?
Must its nisus, its self-determining energy, or its
volition, follow a uniform and inevitable law?
Edwards answers yes. Will is but the sensitivity,
and the inherent nature of the will is fixed, so that
its sense of the most agreeable, which is its most
original nisus or its volition, follows certain neces-
sary laws, — necessary in relation to itself. If we
know the state of any particular will, and its cor-
relation to every variety of object, we may know,
with the utmost certainty, what its volition will be
at a given time, and under given circumstance?.
Moral necessity and physical necessity differ only
in the terms, — not in the nature of the connexion
between the terms. Volition is as necessary as
any physical phenomenon.

Now, if the will and the affections or sensitivity
are one, then, as a mere psychological fact, we
must grant that volition is necessary ; for nothing
can be plainer than that the desires and affections
necessarily follow the correlation of the sensitivity
and its objects. But if we can distinguish in the
consciousness, the will as a personal activity, from
17*

198 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

the sensitivity, — if we can distinguish volition from
the strongest desire <>r the sense <>f the most agree-
able,— then it will not follow, because the one is
necessary, the other is necessary likewise, unless
a necessary connexion between the two be also
an observed fact of consciousness. This will be
inquired into in another part of our undertaking.
What we are now mainly concerned with, is Ed-
wards's argument against the conception of a will
not necessarily determined. This he calls a con-
tingent determination of will. We adopt the
word contingent ; it is important in marking a
distinction.

Edwards, in his argument against a contingent
determination, mistakes and begs the question un-
der discussion.

1. He mistakes the question. Contingency is
treated of throughout as if identical with chance
or no cause. " Any thing is said to be contingent,
or to come to pass by chance or accident, in the
original meaning of such words, when its connex-
ion with its causes or antecedents, according to
the established course of things, is not discerned ;
and so is what we have no means of foreseeing.
And especially is any thing said to be contingent
or accidental, with regard to us, when it comes
to pass without our foreknowledge, and beside

vv or the nr

'UFIVERS

A CONTINGENT WILL. \, C 199

our design and scope. But the word contingent
is used abundantly in a very different sense ; not
for that whose connexion with the series of things
we cannot discern so as to foresee the event, but
for something which has absolutely no previous
ground or reason with which its existence has any
fixed and certain connexion." (p. 31.)

Thus, according to Edwards, not only is con-
tingent used in the same sense as chance and ac-
cident, in the ordinary and familiar acceptation
of these words, but it is also gravely employed to
represent certain phenomena, as without any
ground, or reason, or cause of their existence ;
and it is under this last point of view that he op-
poses it as applied to the determination of the
will. In part 2, sec. 3, he elaborately discusses
the question — " whether any event whatsoever,
and volition in particular, can come to pass with-
out a cause of its existence ;" and in sec. 4, —
- whether volition can arise without a cause,
through the activity of the nature of the soul."

If, in calling volitions contingent, — if, in repre-
senting the determination of the will as contin-
gent, we intended to represent a class of phe-
nomena as existing without " any previous ground
or reason with which their existence has a fixed
and certain connexion," — as existing without any

n(l r\ AMIN.YTION OF AUGUMBNTB AGAINST

cause whatever, and then fore as existing by
chancc, or as really self-existent, and therefore
not demanding any previous ground for their ex-
istence,— it seems to me that no elaborate argu-
ment would be required to expose the absurdity
of our position. That " every phenomenon must
have a cause," is unquestionably one of those
primitive truths which neither require nor admit
of a demonstration, because they precede all de-
monstration, and must be assumed as the basis of
all demonstration.

By a contingent will, I do not mean a will
which is not a cause. By contingent volitions, I
do not mean volitions which exist without a cause.
By a contingent will, I mean a will which is not
a necessitated will, but what I conceive only and
truly to be a free will. By contingent volitions,
I mean volitions belonging to a contingent or free
will. I do not oppose contingency to cause, but to
necessity. Let it be supposed that we have a
clear idea of necessity, then whatever is not ne-
cessary I call contingent.

Now an argument against contingency of will
on the assumption that we intend, under this title,
to represent volitions as existing without a cause,
is irrelevant, since we mean no such thing.

But an argument attempting to prove that con-

A CONTINGENT WILL. 201

tingcncy is identical with chance, or no cause, is a
fair argument ; but then it must be remembered
that such an argument really goes to prove that
nothing but necessity is possible, — for we mean
by contingency that which is opposed to ne-
cessity.

The argument must therefore turn upon these
two points : First, is contingency a possible con-
ception, or is it in itself contradictory and absurd ?
This is the main question ; for if it be decided that
contingency is a contradictory and absurd con-
ception, then we are shut up to a universal and
an absolute necessity, and no place remains for
inquiry respecting a contingent will. But if it be
decided to be a possible and rational conception,
then the second point will be, to determine wheth-
er the will be contingent or necessary.

The first point is the only one which I shall dis-
cuss in this place. The second properly belongs
to the psychological investigations which are to
follow. But I proceed to remark, 2. that Ed-
wards, in his argument against a contingent will,
really begs the question in dispute. In the first
place, he represents the will as necessarily deter-
mined. This is brought out in a direct and posi-
tive argument contained in the first part of his
treatise. Here necessity is made universal and

202 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

absolute. Then, in the second place, when he
comes particularly to discuss contingency, he as-
sumes that it means no cause, and that necessity
is inseparable from the idea of cause. Now this
is plainly a begging of the question, as well as a
mistaking of it ; for when we are inquiring wheth-
er there be any thing contingent, that is, any thing
opposed to necessity, he begins his argument by
affirming all cause to be necessary, and contin-
gency as implying no cause. If all cause be ne-
cessary, and contingency imply no cause, there
is no occasion for inquiry after contingency ; for
it is already settled that there can be no contin-
gency. The very points we are after, as we have
seen, are these two : whether contingency be pos-
sible ; and whether there be any cause, for ex-
ample, will, which is contingent.

If Edwards has both mistaken and begged the
question respecting a contingent will, as I think
clearly appears, then of course he has logically
determined nothing in relation to it.

But whether this be so or not, we may proceed
now to inquire whether contingency be a possible
and rational conception, or whether it be contra-
dictory and absurd.

Necessity and contingency are then two ideas
opposed to each other. They at least cannot

A CONTINGENT WILL. 203

coexist in relation to the same subject. That
which is necessary cannot be contingent at the
same time, and vice versa. Whether contingency
is a possible conception and has place in relation
to any subject, remains to be determined.

Let us seek a definition of these opposing ideas :
we will begin with necessity, because that this
idea is rational and admits of actual application
is not questioned. The only point in question
respecting it, is, whether it be universal, embra-
cing all beings, causes, and events.

What is necessity ? Edwards defines necessity
under two points of view : —

1. Viewed in relation to will.

2. Viewed irrespective of will.

The first, supposes that opposition of will is
possible, but insufficient ; — for example : it is pos-
sible for me to place myself in opposition to a
rushing torrent, but my opposition is insufficient,
and the progress of the torrent relatively to me
is necessary.

The second does not take will into considera-
tion at all, and applies to subjects where opposi-
tion of will is not supposable ; for example, log-
ical necessity, a is b, and c is a, therefore c
is b : mathematical necessity, 2 x 2=4. The
centre of a circle is a point equally distant from

204 EXAMINATION OP AUUUMKNTS AGAINST

every point in the circumference : metaphysical
necessity, the existence of a first cause, of time, of
space. Edwards comprehends this second kind of
necessity under the general designation of meta-
physical or philosophical. This second kind of
necessity undoubtedly is absolute. It is impossi-
ble to conceive of these subjects differently from
what they are. We cannot conceive of no space ;
no time ; or that 2X2 = 5, and so of the rest.

Necessity under both points of view he distin-
guishes into particular and general.

Relative necessity, as particular, is a necessity
relative to individual will ; as general, relative to
all will.

Metaphysical necessity, as particular, is a neces-
sity irrespective of individual will ; as general,
irrespective of all will.

Relative necessity is relative to the will in the
connexion between volition and its sequents.
When a volition of individual will takes place,
without the sequent aimed at, because a greater
force is opposed to it, then the sequent of this
greater force is necessary with a particular rela-
tive necessity. When the greater force is great-
er than all supposable will, then its sequents take
place by a general relative necessity. It is plain
however, that under all supposable will, the will

A CONTINGENT WILL. 205

of God cannot be included, as there can be no
greater force than a divine volition.

Metaphysical necessity, when particular, ex-
cludes the opposition of individual will. Under
this Edwards brings the connexion of motive and
volition. The opposition of will, he contends, is
excluded from this connexion, because will can
act only by volition, and motive is the cause of
volition. Volition is necessary by a particular
metaphysical necessity, because the will of the in-
dividual cannot be opposed to it ; but not with a
general metaphysical necessity, because other wills
may be opposed to it.

Metaphysical necessity, when general, excludes
the opposition of all will — even of infinite will.
That 2X2= 4 — that the centre of a circle is a
point equally distant from every point in the cir-
cumference— the existence of time and space —
are all true and real, independently of all will.
Will hath not constituted them, nor can will destroy
them. It would imply a contradiction to suppose
them different from what they are. According to
Edwards, too, the divine volitions are necessary
with a general metaphysical necessity, because, as
these volitions are caused by motives, and infinite
will, as well as finite will, must act by volitions,
the opposition of infinite will itself is excluded in

the production of infinite volitions.
18

200 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

Now what is the simple idea of necessity con-
tained in these two points of view, with their
two-fold distinction? Necessity is that which is
■nut which cannot possibly not />e, or be otherwise
than it is,

1. An event necessary by a relative particular
necessity, is an event which is and cannot possi-
bly not be or be otherwise by the opposition of
an individual will.

2. An event necessary by a relative general
necessity, is an event which cannot possibly not
be, or be otherwise by the opposition of all finite
will. In these cases, opposition of will of course
is supposable.

3. An event is necessary by a metaphysical
particular necessity, when it is, and admits of no
possible opposition from the individual will.

4. An event is necessary by a metaphysical
general necessity, when it is, and cannot possibly
admit of opposition even from infinite will.

All this, however, in the last analysis on Ed-
wards's system, becomes absolute necessity. The
infinite will is necessarily determined by a meta-
physical general necessity. All events are neces-
sarily determined by the infinite will. Hence, all
events are necessarily determined by a metaphys-
ical general necessity. Particular and relative
necessity are merely the absolute and general ne-

A CONTINGENT WILL. 207

cessity viewed in the particular individual and
relation: — the terms characterize only the man-
ner of our view. The opposition of the particular
will being predetermined by the infinite will, which
comprehends all, is to the precise limit of its force
absolutely necessary ; and the opposite force which
overcomes the opposition of the particular will,
produces its phenomena necessarily not only in
reference to the particular will, but also in refer-
ence to the infinite will which necessarily prede-
termines it.

Having thus settled the definition of necessity,
and that too, on Edwards's own grounds, we are
next to inquire, what is the opposite idea of con-
tingency, and whether it has place as a rational
idea ?

Necessity is that which is, and which cannot
possibly not be, or be otherwise than it is. Con-
tingency then, as the opposite idea, must be tJiat
which is, or may be, and which possibly might
not be, or might be otherwise than it is. Now,
contingency cannot have place with respect to
anything which is independent of will ; — time and
space; — mathematical and metaphysical truths,
for example, that all right angles are equal, thai
every phenomenon supposes a cause, cannot be
contingent, for they are seen to be real and true

'-i<H r.XAMIJVATIO.N OF ARGUME.\TS AGAINST

in themselves. They do not arise from will, nor
is it conceivable that will can alter them, for it is
not conceivable that they admit of change from
any source. If the idea of contingency have place
as a rational idea, it must be with respect to caus-
es, being, and phenomena, which depend upon will.
The whole creation is the effect of divine volition.
" God said, let there be light, and there was light :"
thus did the whole creation come to be.

Now every one will grant, that the creation
does not seem necessary as time and space : and
intuitive truths with their logical deductions, seem
necessary. We cannot conceive of these as hav-
ing not been, or as ceasing to be ; but we can
conceive of the creation as not having been, and
as ceasing to be. No space is an impossible con-
ception ; but no body, or void space, is a possible
conception ; and as the existence of body may be
annihilated in thought, so, likewise, the particular
forms and relations of body may be modified in
thought, indefinitely, different from their actual
form. Now, if we wish to express in one word
this difference between space and body, or in
general this difference between that which exists
independently of will, and that which exists pure-
ly as the effect of will, we call the first neces-
sary ; the second, contingent. The first we can-
not conceive to be different from what it is. The

A CONTINGENT WILL. 209

second we can conceive to be different from what
it is. What is true of the creation considered as
a collection of beings and things, is true likewise
of all the events taking place in this creation. All
these events are either directly or mediately the
effects of will, divine or human. Now wre can
conceive of these as not being at all, or as being
modified indefinitely, different from what they
are; — and under this conception we call them
contingent.

No one I think will deny that we do as just re-
presented, conceive of the possibility of the events
and creations of will, either as having no being, or
as being different from what they are. This con-
ception is common to all men. What is the meaning
of this conception ? Is it a chimera ? It must be
a chimera, if the system of Edwards be true ; for
according to this, there really is no possibility that
any event of will might have had no being at all, or
might have been different from what it is. Will
is determined by motives antecedent to itself.
And this applies to the divine will, likewise, which
is determined by an infinite and necessary wis-
dom. The conception, therefore, of the possibili-
ty of that which is, being different from what it
is, must on this system be chimerical. But al-
though the system would force us to this conclu-
18*

210 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

sion, the conception still reigns in our minds, and
does not seem to us chimerical ; — the deduction
from the system Btrangefy conflicts with our natu-
ral and spontaneous judgements. There are few
men who would not be startled by the dogma that
all things and all events, even the constantly occur-
ing volitions of their minds, are absolutely necessary,
as necessary as a metaphysical axiom or a mathe-
matical truth, — necessary with a necessity which
leaves no possibility of their being otherwise than
they actually arc. There arc few perhaps of the
theological abettors of Edwards's system, who
would not also be startled by it. I suppose that
these would generally attempt to evade the broad
conclusion, by contending that the universal ne-
cessity here represented, being merely a meta-
physical necessity, does not affect the sequents
of volition ; that if a man can do as he pleases,
he has a natural liberty and ability which relieves
him from the chain of metaphysical necessity. I
have already shown how utterly futile this at-
tempted distinction is — how completely the met-
aphysical necessity embraces the so called natu-
ral liberty and ability. If nothing better than this
can be resorted to, then we have no alternative
left but to exclaim with Shelley, " Necessity, thou
mother of the world!'' But why the reluctance

A CONTINGENT WILL. 211

to escape from this universal necessity ? Do the
abettors of this system admit that there is some-
thing opposed to necessity ? But what is this
something opposed to necessity ? Do they affirm
that choice is opposed to necessity ? But how
opposed — is choice contingent? Do they admit
the possibility that any choice which is, might not
have been at all, or might have been different
from what it is ?

We surely do not distinguish choice from ne-
cessity by merely calling it choice, or an act of
the will. If will is not necessitated, we wish to
know under what condition it exists. Volition is
plainly under necessity on Edwards's system, just
as every other event is under necessity. And the
connexion between \ olition and its sequents is
just as necessary as the connexion between voli-
tion and its motives. Explain, — why do you en-
deavour to evade the conclusion of this system
when you come to volition ? why do you claim
liberty here ? Do you likewise have a natural
and spontaneous judgement against a necessitated
will ? It is evident that while Edwards and his
followers embrace the doctrine of necessity in its
cardinal principles, they shrink from its applica-
tion to will. They first establish the doctrine of
necessity universally and absolutely, and then

1*12 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

claim for will an exception from the general law, —
not by logically and psychologically pointing out
the grounds and nature of the exception, but by
simply appealing to the spontaneous and natural
judgements of men, that they are tree when they
do as they please : but no definition of freedom
is given which distinguishes it from necessity : —
nor is the natural and spontaneous judgement
against necessity of volition explained and shown
not be a mere illusion.

There is an idea opposed to necessity, says this
spontaneous judgement — and the will comes un-
der the idea opposed to necessity. But what is
this idea opposed to necessity, and how does the
will come under it 1 Edwards and his followers
have not answered these questions — their at-
tempt at a solution is self-contradictory and void.

Is there any other idea opposed to necessity
than that of contingency, viz. — that which is or
may be, and possibly might not be, or might be
otherwise than it is ? That 2 x 2 = 4 is a truth
which cannot possibly not be, or be otherwise
than it is. But this book which I hold in my
hand, I can conceive of as not being at all, or be-
ing different from what it is, without implying any
contradiction, according to this spontaneous judge-
ment.

A. CONTINGENT WILL. ^13

The distinction between right and wrong, I
cannot conceive of as not existing, or as being al-
tered so as to transpose the terms, making that
right which now is wrong, and that wrong which
now is right. But the volition which I now put
forth to move this pen over the paper, I can con-
ceive of as not existing, or as existing under a
different mode, as a volition to write words differ-
ent from those which I am writing. That this
idea of contingency is not chimerical, seems set-
tled by this, that all men naturally have it, and
entertain it as a most rational idea. Indeed even
those who hold the doctrine of necessity, do ei-
ther adopt this idea in relation to will by a self-
contradiction, and under a false position, as the
abettors of the scheme which I am opposing for
example, or in the ordinary conduct of life, they
act upon it. All the institutions of society, all go-
vernment and law, all our feelings of remorse
and compunction, all praise and blame, and all
language itself, seem based upon it. The idea of
contingency as above explained, is somehow con-
nected with will, and all the creations and changes
arising from will.

That the will actually does come under this
idea of contingency, must be shown psychologi-
cally if shown at all. An investigation to this ef-

214 EXAMINATION OF AKGLMLNTS AGAINST

feet must be reserved therefore for another oc-
casion, in this place, I shall simply inquire, how
the will may be conceived as coining under the
idea of contingency I

The contingency of any phenomenon or event
must depend upon the nature of its cause. A
contingent phenomenon or event is one which
may be conceived of, as one that might not have
been at all, or might have been different from
what it is ; but wherein lies the possibility that it
might not have been at all, or might have been
different from what it is ? This possibility cannot
lie in itself, for an effect can determine nothing
in relation to its own existence. Neither can it
lie in anything which is not its cause, for this can
determine nothing in relation to its existence.
The cause therefore which actually gives it exist-
ence, and existence under its particular form, can
alone contain the possibility of its not having ex-
isted at all, or of its having existed under a dif-
ferent form. But what is the nature of such a
cause ? It is a cause which in determining a
particular event, has at the very moment of doing
so, the power of determining an opposite event.
It is a cause not chained to any class of effects by
its correlation to a certain class of objects • — as
fire, for example, is chained to combustion by its

A CONTINGENT WILL. 215

correlation to a certain class of objects which we
thence call combustibles. It is a cause which must
have this peculiarity in opposition to all other cau-
ses, that it forbears of itself to produce an effect
which it may produce, and of any given number
of effects alike within its power, it may take any
one of them in opposition to all the others ; and
at the very moment it takes one effect, it has the
power of taking any other. It is a cause contin-
gent and not necessitated. The contingency of
the event, therefore, arises from the contingency
of the cause. Now every cause must be a ne-
cessary or not necessary cause. A necessary
cause is one which cannot be conceived of as
having power to act differently from its actual de-
velopements — fire must burn — gravitation must
draw bodies towards the earth's centre. If there
be any cause opposed to this, it can be only the
contingent cause above defined, for there is no
third conception. We must choose therefore be-
tween a universal and absolute necessity, and the
existence of contingent causes. If we take ne-
cessity to be universal and absolute, then we
must take all the consequences, likewise, as de-
duced in part II. There is no possible escape
from this. As then all causes must be either ne-
cessary or contingent, we bring will under the

21() EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

idea of contingency, by regarding it as a contin-
gent cause — "a power to do, or not to do,"* —
or a faculty of determining "to do, or not to do
something which we conceive to be in our pow-
er." f

We may here inquire wherein lies the necessi-
ty of a cause opposed to a contingent cause ? Its
necessity lies in its nature, also. What is this
nature ? It is a nature in fixed correlation with
certain objects, so that it is inconceivable that its
phenomena might be different from those which
long and established observation have assigned to
it. It is inconceivable that fire might not burn
when thrown amid combustibles ; it is inconceiv-
able that water might not freeze at the freezing
temperature. But is this necessity a necessity
per se, or a determined necessity ? It is a de-
termined necessity — determined by the creative
will. If the creative will be under the law of ne-
cessity, then of course every cause determined by
will becomes an absolute necessity.

The only necessity per se is found in that infi-
nite and necessary wisdom in which Edwards
places the determining motives of the divine will.
All intuitive truths and their logical deductions
are necessary per se. But the divine will is ne-

* Cousin. t Dr. Reid.

A CONTINGENT WILL. 217

ccssary with a determined necessity on Edwards's
system, — and so of all other wills and all other
causes, dependent upon will — the divine will be-
ing the first will determined. We must recollect,
however, that on Edwards's theory of causation,
a cause is always determined out of itself ; and
that consequently there can be no cause necessa-
ry per sc ; and yet at the same time there is by
this theory, an absolute necessity throughout all
causality.

Now let us consider the result of making will a
contingent cause. In the first place, we have the
divine will as the first and supreme contingent
cause. Then consequently in the second place,
all causes ordained by the divine will, considered
as effects, are contingent. They might not have
been. They might cease to be. They might be
different from what they are. But in the third
place, these causes considered as causes, are not
all contingent. Only will is contingent. Physical
causes are necessary with a determined necessity.
They are necessary as fixed by the divine will.
They are necessary with a relative necessity —
relatively to the divine will. They put forth their
nisus, and produce phenomena by a fixed and
invariable law, established by the divine will. But
will is of the nature, being made after the image
19

218 EXAMINATION OF ARCH Ml. NT- AGAINST

of the divine will. The divine will is infinite
power, and can do everything possible to cause.
The created will is finite power, and can do only
what is within its given capacity. Its volitions or
its efforts, or its tnsus to do, are limited only by
the extent of its intelligence. It may make an
effort, or volition, or nisus, to do anything of
which it can conceive — but the actual produc-
tion of phenomena out of itself, must depend up-
on the instrumental and physical connexion which
the divine will has established between it and the
world, external to itself. Of all the volitions or
msus within its capacity, it is not necessitated to
any one, but may make any one, at any time ;
and at the time it makes any one nisus or voli-
tion, it has the power of making any other.

It is plain, moreover, that will is efficient, es-
sential, and first cause. Whatever other causes
exist, are determined and fixed by will, and are
therefore properly called secondary or instrumen-
tal causes. And as we ourselves are will, we
must first of all, and most naturally and most
truly gain our idea of cause from ourselves. We
cannot penetrate these second causes — we ob-
serve only their phenomena ; but we know our-
selves in the very first nisus of causation.

To reason therefore from these secondary cau-
ses to ourselves, is indeed reversing the natural

A CONTINGENT WILL. 219

and true order on this subject. Now what is the
ground of all this clamour against contingency ;
Do you say it represents phenomena as existing
without cause ? We deny it. We oppose con-
tingency not to cause, but to necessity. Do you
say it is contrary to the phenomena of physical
causation, — we reply that you have no right to
reason from physical causes to that cause which
is yourself. For in general you have no right to
reason from the laws and properties of matter to
those of mind. Do you affirm that contingency
is an absurd and pernicious doctrine — then turn
and look at the doctrine of an absolute necessity
in all its bearings and consequences, and where
lies the balance of absurdity and pernicious con-
sequences? But we deny that there is anything
absurd and pernicious in contingency as above
explained. That it is not pernicious, but that on
the contrary, it is the basis of moral and religious
responsibility, will clearly appear in the course
of our inquiries.

After what has already been said in the prece-
ding pages, it perhaps is unnecessary to make any
further reply to its alleged absurdity.

There is one form under which this allegation
comes up, however, which is at first sight so plau-
sible, that I shall be pardoned for prolonging this

220 i;\AMI\ATION OF AUM'.MENTS AGAINST

discussion in order to dispose of it. It is as follows:
That in assigning contingency to will, we do not
account for a volition being in one direction ra-
ther than in another. The will, it is urged, under
the idea of contingency, is indifferent to any par-
ticular volition. How then can we explain the
fact that it does pass out of this state of indiffer-
ency to a choice or volition ?

In answer to this, I remark : — It has already
been made clear, that selection and particular de-
termination belong to every cause. In physical
causes, this selection and particular determination
lies in the correlation of the nature of the cause
with certain objects ; and this selection and par-
ticular determination are necessary by a necessi-
ty determined out of the cause itself — that is,
they are determined by the creative will, which
gave origin to the physical and secondary causes.
Now Edwards affirms that the particular selec-
tion and determination of will take place in the
same way. The nature of the will is correlated
to certain objects, and this nature, being fixed by
the creative will, which gave origin to the secon-
dary dependent will, the selection and particular
determination of will, is necessary with a necessi-
ty determined out of itself. But to a necessitated
will, we have nothing to oppose except a will whose

A CONTINGENT WILL. 221

volitions are not determined by the correlation of
its nature with certain objects — a will, indeed,
which has not its nature correlated to any ob-
jects, but a will indifferent; for if its nature were
correlated to objects, its particular selection and
determination would be influenced by this, and
consequently its action would become necessary,
and that too by a necessity out of itself, and fix-
ed by the infinite will. In order to escape an
absolute and universal necessity, therefore, we
must conceive of a will forming volitions particu-
lar and determinate, or in other words, making a
nisus towards particular objects, without any cor-
relation of its nature with the objects. Is this
conception a possible and rational conception? It
is not a possible conception if will and the sensi-
tivity, or the affections are identical — for the
very definition of will then becomes that of a pow-
er in correlation with objects, and necessarily af-
fected by them.

But now let us conceive of the will as simply
and purely an activity or cause, and distinct from
the sensitivity or auctions — a cause capable of
producing changes or phenomena in relation to a
great variety of objects, and conscious that it is
thus capable, but conscious also that it is not
drawn by any necessary affinity to any one of
19*

223 EXAMINATION <>r ABOUMSHTfl AGAINST

them. Is this a possible and rational conception '
It is indeed the conception of a cause different
from all other causes ; and on this conception
there arc but two kinds of causes. The physi-
cal, which arc necessarily determined by the cor-
relation of their nature with certain objects, and
will, which is a pure activity not thus determin-
ed, and therefore not necessitated, but contingent.

Now I may take this as a rational conception,
unless its palpable absurdity can be pointed out,
cr it can be proved to involve some contradic-
tion.

Docs the objector allege, as a palpable absurd-
ity, that there is, after all, nothing to account for
the particular determination ? I answer that the
particular determination is accounted for in the
very quality or attribute of the cause. In the case
of a physical cause, the particular determination
is accounted for in the quality of the cause, which
quality is to be necessarily correlated to the ob-
ject. In the case of will, the particular determi-
nation is accounted for in the quality of the cause,
which quality is to have the power to make the
particular determination without being necessarily
correlated to the object. A physical cause is a
cause fixed, determined, and necessitated. The
will is a cause contingent and free. A physical

A CONTINGKNT WILL. 223

cause is a cause instrumental of a first cause : —
the will is first cause itself. The infinite will is
the first cause inhabiting eternity, filling immensity,
and unlimited in its energy. The human will is
first cause appearing in time, confined to place,
and finite in its energy ; but it is the same in kind,
because made in the likeness of the infinite will ;
as first cause it is self-moved, it makes its nisus of
itself, and of itself it forbears to make it ; and
within the sphere of its activity, and in relation to
its objects, it has the power of selecting by a mere
arbitrary act, any particular object. It is a cause,
all whose acts, as well as any particular act, con-
sidered as phenomena demanding a cause, are
accounted for in itself alone. This does not make
the created will independent of the uncreated.
The very fact of its being a created will, settles
its dependence. The power which created it, has
likewise limited it, and could annihilate it. The
power which created it, has ordained and fixed
the instrumentalities by which volitions become
productive of effects. The man may make the
volition or nisiiS, to remove a mountain, but his
arm fails to carry out the nisus. His volitions
are produced freely of himself; they are unre-
strained within the capacity of will given him, but
he meets on every side those physical causes

834 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

which arc mightier than himself, and which, in-
strumental of the divine will, make the created
will aware of its feebleness and dependence.

But although the will is au activity or cause thus
contingent, arbitrary, free, and indifferent, it is an
activity or cause united with sensitivity and rea-
son ; and forming the unity of the soul. Will, rea-
son, and, the sensitivity or the affections, consti-
tute mind, or spirit, or soul. Although the will is
arbitrary and contingent, yet it does not follow
that it must act without regard to reason or
feeling.

I have yet to make my appeal to consciousness ;
I am now only giving a scheme of psychology in
order to prove the possibility of a contingent will,
that we have nothing else to oppose to an abso-
lute and universal necessity.

According to this scheme, wre take the will as
the executive of the soul or the doer. It is a doer
having life and power in itself, not necessarily de-
termined in any of its acts, but a power to do or
not to do. Reason we take as the lawgiver. It
is the " source and substance " of pure, immutable,
eternal, and necessary truth. This teaches and
commands the executive will what ought to be
done. The sensitivity or the affections, or the
desire, is the seat of enjoyment : it is the capacity

A CONTINGENT WILL. 225

of pleasure and pain. Objects, in general, hold
to the sensitivity the relation of the agreeable
or the disagreeable, are in correlation with it ;
and, according to the degree of this correlation,
are the emotions and passions awakened.

Next let the will be taken as the chief characte-
ristic of personality, or more strictly, as the per-
sonality itself. By the personality. I mean the
me, or myself. The personality — the me — the
will, a self-moving cause, directs itself by an act
of attention to the reason, and receives the laws
of its action. The perception of these laws is
attended with the conviction of their rectitude and
imperative obligation ; at the same time, there is
the consciousness of power to obey or to disobey
them.

Again, let the will be supposed to direct itself
in an act of attention to the pleasurable emotions
connected with the presence of certain objects ;
and the painful emotions connected with the
presence of other objects ; and then the desire of
pleasure, and the wish to avoid pain, become rules
of action. There is here again the consciousness
of power to resist or to comply with the solicita-
tions of desire. The will may direct itself to
those objects which yield pleasure, or may reject
them, and direct itself towards those objects which
yield only pain and disgust.

22G EXAMINATION OF AKOIMKNTS AC. VINST

We may suppose again two conditions of the
reason and sensitivity relatively to each other: a
condition of agreement, and a condition of disa-
greement. If the affections incline to those ob-
jects which the reason approves, then we have
the first condition. If the affections are repelled
in dislike by those objects which reason approves,
then we have the second condition. On the first
condition, the will, in obeying reason, gratifies the
sensitivity, and vice versa. On the second, in
obeying the reason, it resists the sensitivity, and
vice versa.

Now if the will were always governed by the
highest reason, without the possibility of resist-
ance, it would be a necessitated will ; and if it
were always governed by the strongest desire,
without the possibility of resistance, it would be
a necessitated will ; as much so as in the system
of Edwards, where the strongest desire is identi-
fied with volition.

The only escape from necessity, therefore, is
in the conception of a will as above defined — a
conscious, self-moving power, which may obey
reason in opposition to passion, or passion in op-
position to reason, or obey both in their harmoni-
ous union ; and lastly, which may act in the indif-
ference of all, that is, act without reference either

A CONTINGENT WILL. 227

to reason or passion. Now when the will obeys
the laws of the reason, shall it be asked, what is
the cause of the act of obedience ? The will is
the cause of its own act ; a cause per se, a cause
self-conscious and self-moving ; it obeys the rea-
son by its own nisus. When the will obeys the
strongest desire, shall we ask, what is the cause
of the act of obedience ? Here again, the will is
the cause of its own act. Are we called upon to
ascend higher? We shall at last come to such a
self-moving and contingent power, or we must re-
sign all to an absolute necessity. Suppose, that
when the will obeys the reason, we attempt to ex-
plain it by saying, that obedience to the reason
awakens the strongest desire, or the sense of the
most agreeable ; we may then ask, why the will
obeys the strongest desire ? and then we may at-
tempt to explain this again by saying, that to obey
the strongest desire seems most reasonable. We
may evidently, with as much propriety, account
for obedience to passion, by referring to reason ;
as account for obedience to reason, by referring
to passion. If the act of the will which goes in
the direction of the reason, finds its cause in the
sensitivity ; then the act of the will which goes in
the direction of the sensitivity, may find its cause
in the reason. But this is only moving in a circle,

228 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

and is no advance whatever. Why does the will
obey the reason ? because it is must agreeable :
but why does the will obe) because it is most
agreeable '. because to obey the most agreeable
ins most reasonable.

Acts of the will may be conceived of as ana-
logous to intuitive or first truths. First truths
require no demonstration ; they admit of none ;
they form the basis of all demonstration. Acts
of the will are first movements of primary
causes, and as such neither require nor admit
of antecedent causes, to explain their action.
Will is the source and basis of all other cause.
It explains all other cause, but in itself admits
of no explanation. It presents the primary and
all-comprehending fact of power. In God, will
is infinite, primary cause, and uncreated : in man,
it is finite, primary cause, constituted by God's
creative act, but not necessitated, for if necessi-
tated it would not be will, it would not be power
after the likeness of the divine power ; it would
be mere physical or secondary cause, and com-
prehended in the chain of natural antecedents
and sequents.

God's will explains creation as an existent fact;
mairs will explains all his volitions. When we
proceed to inquire after the characteristics of

A CONTINGENT WILL. 229

creation, we bring in the idea of infinite wisdom
and goodness. But when we inquire why God's
will obeyed infinite wisdom and goodness, we
must either represent his will as necessitated by
infinite wisdom and goodness, and take with this
all the consequences of an absolute necessity; or
we must be content to stop short, with will itself
as a first cause, not necessary, but contingent,
which, explaining all effects, neither requires nor
admits of any explanation itself.

When we proceed to inquire after the charac-
teristics of human volition, we bring in the idea of
right and wrong ; we look at the relations of the
reason and the sensitivity. But when we inquire
xrlnj the will now obeys reason, and now passjon ;
and why this passion, or that passion ; we must
either represent the will as necessitated, and take
all the consequences of a necessitated will, or we
must stop short here likewise, with the will itself
as a first cause, not necessary, but contingent',
which, in explaining its own volitions, neither re-
quires nor admits of any explanation itself, other
than as a finite and dependent will it requires to
be referred to the infinite will in order to account
for the fact of its existence.

Edwards, while he burdens the question of the

will's determination with monstrous consequen-
20

230 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

ccs, relieves it of do one difficulty. He lays down,
indeed, a uniform law of determination ; but there
is a last inquiry which he doea not presume to an-
swer. The determination of the will, or the voli-
tion, is always as the most agreeable, and is the
sense of the most agreeable. But while the will
is granted to be one simple power or capacity,
there arise from it an indefinite variety of voli-
tions ; and volitions at one time directly opposed
to volitions at another time. The question now
arises, how this one simple capacity of volition
comes to produce such various volitions ? It is
said in reply, that whatever may be the volition,
it is at the time the sense of the most agreeable :
but that it is always the sense of the most agree-
able, respects only its relation to the will itself;
the volition, intrinsically considered, is at one
time right, at another wrong; at one time ra-
tional, at another foolish. The volition really va-
ries, although, relatively to the will, it always puts
on the characteristic of the most agreeable. The
question therefore returns, how this simple capa-
city determines such a variety of volitions, always
however representing them to itself as the most
agreeable ? There are three ways of answering
this. First, we may suppose the state of the will
or sensitivity to remain unchanged, and the dif-

A CONTINGENT WILL. 231

ferent volitions to be effected by the different ar-
rangements and conditions of the objects relatively
to it. Secondly, we may suppose the arrangements
and conditions of the objects to remain unchanged,
and the different volitions to be effected by changes
in the state of the sensitivity, or will, relatively to
the objects. Or, thirdly, we may suppose both
the state of the will, and the arrangements and
conditions of the objects to be subject to changes,
singly and mutually, and thus giving rise to the
different volitions. But our questionings are not
yet at an end. On the first supposition, the ques-
tion comes up, how the different arrangements
and conditions of the objects are brought about?
On the second supposition, how the changes in
the state of the sensitivity are effected ? On the
third supposition, how the changes in both, singly
and mutually, are effected ? If it could be said,
that the sensitivity changes itself relatively to the
objects, then we should ask again, why the sensi-
tivity chooses at one time, as most agreeable to
itself, that which is right and rational, and at an-
other time, that which is wrong and foolish ? Or,
if it could be said, that the objects have the power
of changing their own arrangements and condi-
tions, then also we must ask, why at one time the
objects arrange themselves to make the right and

232 EXAMINATION OF AIUUMENTS AGAINST

rational appear most agreeable, and at another
time, the wrong and foolish?

These last questions are the very questions
which Edwards does not presume to answer.
The motive by which he accounts for the existence
of the volition, is formed of the correlation of the
state of the will, and the nature and circumstances
of the object. But when the correlation is such as
to give the volition in the direction of the right
and the rational, in opposition to the wrong and
the foolish, — we ask why does the correlation
give the volition in this direction. If it be said
that the volition in this direction appears most
agreeable, the answer is a mere repetition of the
question ; for the question amounts simply to
this: — why the correlation is such as to make
the one agreeable rather than the other ? The voli-
tion which is itself only the sense of the most agree-
able, cannot be explained by affirming that it is
always as the most agreeable. The point to be
explained is, why the mind changes its state in
relation to the objects ; or why the objects change
their relations to the mind, so as to produce this
sense of the most agreeable in one direction rather
than in another ? The difficulty is precisely of
the same nature which is supposed to exist in the
case of a contingent will. The will noic goes in

A CONTINGENT WILL. 233

the direction of reason, and now in the direction
of passion, — but why ? We say, because as will,
it has the power of thus varying its movement.
The change is accounted for by merely referring
to the will.

According to Edwards, the correlation of will
and its objects, now gives the sense of the most
agreeable, or volition, in the direction of the rea-
son ; and now in the direction of passion — but
why .' — Why does the reason now appear most
agreeable, — and now the indulgences of im-
pure desire ? I choose this because it is most
agreeable, says Edwards, which is equivalent to
saying, — I have the sense of the most agreeable in
reference to this, because it is most agreeable ; —
but how do you know it is the most agreeable ?
because I choose it, or have the sense of the most
agreeable in reference to it. It is plain, therefore,
that on Edwards's system, as well as on that op-
posed to it, the particular direction of volition, and
the constant changes of volition, must be referred
simply to the cause of volition, without giving any
other explanation of the different determinations
of this cause, except referring them to the nature
of the cause itself. It is possible, indeed, to refer
the changes in the correlation to some cause
which governs the correlation of the will anil its
20*

984 EXAMINATION OF AUGUMKNTS AGAINST

objects ; but then t!ic question must arise in rela-
tion to this cause, why it determines the correla-
tion in one direction at one time, and in another
direction at another time ? And this could be
answered only by referring it to itself as having
the capacity of these various determinations as
a power to do or not to do, and a power to
determine in a given direction, or in the opposite
direction ; or by referring it to still another ante-
cedent cause. Now let us suppose this last ante-
cedent to be the infinite will : then the question
would be, why the infinite will determines the
sensitivity, or will of his creatures at one time to
wisdom, and at another to folly ? And what an-
swer could be given ? Shall it be said that it
seems most agreeable to him ? But why docs it
seem most agreeable to him ? Is it because the
particular determination is the most reasonable,
that it seems most agreeable ? But why does he
determine always according to the most reason-
able ? Is it because to determine according to
the most reasonable, seems most agreeable ? Now,
inasmuch as according to Edwards, the volition
and the sense of the most agreeable are the same ;
to say that God wills as he does will, because it
is most agreeable to him, is to say that he wills
because he wills ; and to sav that he wills as he

A CONTINGENT WILL. 235

does will, because it seems most reasonable to
him. amounts to the same thing, because he wills
according to the most reasonable only because it
is the most agreeable.

To represent the volitions, or choices, either in
the human or divine will, as determined by mo-
tives, removes therefore no difficulty which is
supposed to pertain to contingent self-determina-
tion.

Let us compare the two theories particularly,
although at the hazard of some repetition.

Contingent self-determination represents the
will as a cause making its nisus or volitions of
itself, and determining their direction of itself —
now obeying reason, and now obeying passion.
If it be asked why it determines in a particular
direction? — if this particular direction in which it
determines be that of the reason ? — then it may be
said, that it determines in this direction because
it is reasonable; — if this particular direction be
that of passion, as opposed to reason, then it may
be said that it determines in this direction, because
it is pleasing. But if it be asked why the will
goes in the direction of reason, rather than in that
of passion, as opposed to reason ? — we cannot say
that it is most reasonable to obey reason and not
passion ; because the one is all reason, and the

23G EXAMINATION OF AROUKENTB A.OAIN8T

oilier is all passion, and <>f course they cannot be
compared under the reasonable ; and no more
can they be compared under the pleasing, — when,
by the pleasing, we understand, the gratification of
desire, as opposed to reason. To obey reason
because it is reasonable, is nothing more than the
statement of the fact that the will does obey rea-
son. To obey desire because it is desirable, is
nothing more than the statement of the fact that
the will does obey desire. The will goes in one
direction rather than in another by an act of self-
determination, which neither admits of, nor indeed
requires any other explanation than this, that the
will has power to do one or the other, and in the
exercise of this power, it does one rather than the
other.

To this stands contrasted the system of Ed-
wards ; and what is this system ? That the will is
determined by the strongest motive; — and what
is the strongest motive ? The greatest apparent
good, or the most agreeable : — what constitutes
the greatest apparent good, or the most agreeable ?
The correlation of will or sensitivity and the ob-
ject. But why does the correlation make one
object appear more agreeable than another ; or
make the same object at one time appear agree-
able, at another time disagreeable ? Now this

A CONTINGENT WILL. 237

question is equivalent to the question, — why does
the will go in the direction of one object rather
than of another ; or go in the direction of a given
object at one time, and in opposition to it at an-
other time ? For the will to determine itself to-
ward an object in one system, answers to the will
having the sense of the most agreeable towards
an object in Edwards's system. If Edwards
should attempt to give an answer without going
beyond the motive, he could only say that the
sensitivity has the power of being affected with
the sense of the most agreeable or of the most
disagreeable ; and that in the exercise of this pow-
er it is affected with the one rather than with the
other. He could not say that to obey reason
appears more agreeable than to obey passion as
opposed to reason, for the obedience of the will
on his system, is nothing more than a sense of the
most agreeable. Nor could he say it is more
reasonable to obey reason, for reason cannot be
compared with its opposite, under the idea of
itself; and if he could say this, it amounts to no
more than this, on his system, that it is most agree-
able to obey the reasonable; — that is, the rea-
sonable is obeyed only as the most agreeable :
but obedience of will being nothing more than the
sense of the most agreeable, to say it is obeyed

"238 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

because most .agreeable, is merely to say that if
awakens the sense of the most agreeable j that is,
it is obej - j cd.

To refer the motive to the divine determina-
tion makes volition necessary to the man, and
throws the difficulty in question, if it is to be con-
sidered a difficulty, only farther back.

If God's will determines in the direction of the
reasonable because it is most agreeable, then we
ask, why is it the most agreeable ? If the re-
ply be, because it is most reasonable, then we
are only moving in a circle ; but if the agreea-
ble be taken as an ultimate fact, then inasmuch as
to will is only to have the sense of the most
agreeable, it follows that God has the sense of the
most agreeable towards an object only because it is
most agreeable to him, or awakens this sense in
him; and thus the question why God wills in one
direction rather than in another, or what is the
cause of his determination, is not answered by
Edwards, unless he says with us that the will in
itself as a power to do or not to do, or to do one
thing, or its opposite, is a sufficient explanation,
and the only possible explanation ; — or unless he
refers the divine will to an antecedent cause, and
this again to another antecedent cause, in an end-
less series — and thus introduce the two-fold er-

A CONTINGENT WILL. 239

ror of an endless series, and an absolute neces-
sity.

All possible volitions, according to the scheme of
psychology I have above given, must be either in the
direction of the reason or of the sensitivity, cr in
the indifferency of both. If the volition be in the
direction of the reason, it takes the characteristics
of rational, good, &c. If in the direction of the
sensitivity, it takes its characteristic from the na-
ture of the particular desire which it obeys : — it
is generous, benevolent, kind, &c. — or it is ma-
licious, envious, unkind, vicious, &c. What moves
the will to go in the direction of the reason ?
Nothing moves it ; it is a cause per se ; it goes in
that direction because it has power to go in that
direction. What moves the will to go in the di-
rection of the sensitivity? Nothing moves it; it
is a cause per se ; it goes in that direction be-
cause it has power to go in that direction.

There are in the intelligence or reason, as uni-
ted with the will in the constitution of the mind,
necessary convictions of the true, the just, the
right. There are in the sensitivity, as united in
the same constitution, necessary affections of tiie
agreeable and the disagreeable in reference to
various objects. The will as the power which by

240 i:\.\MINATION OF ABGUMEHTS AGAINST

its nisus j)roduccs changes or phenomena, is con-
scious of ability to go in either of these directions,
or in opposition to both. Now when it makes
its nisus or volition in reference to the true, the
just, the good i should we attempt to explain this
nisus by saying that the true, the just, the good,
atl'eet the sensitivity agreeably, this would only
amount to saying that the nisus is made towards
the true, not as the true, but only as the agreea-
ble ; and then we would introduce the law that
the nisus is always made in the direction of the
agreeable. But then again we might seek to ex-
plain why the nisus is always made in the direc-
tion of the agreeable. Is it of an antecedent ne-
cessity ? Then wo have an absolute and univer-
sal necessity. Is it because to go in the direction
of the agreeable seems most rational ? Then it
follows that the nisus is made towards the agree-
able not as the agreeable, but only as the ration-
al ; and then we would introduce the law that the
nisus is always made in the direction of the ra-
tional. But then again we might seek to explain
why this nisus is always made in the direction of
the rational. Is it of an antecedent necessity ?
Then here likewise we have an absolute and uni-
versal necessity. Is it because to go in the di-
rection of the rational seems most agreeable ?

A CONTINGENT WILL. 241

Then wc are winding back in a circle to our first
position.

How shall we escape from these difficulties ?
Shall wre adopt the psychology of Edwards, and
make the will and the sensitivity one ? Then as
the volition is always the strongest affection of the
agreeable, if the sensitivity be necessary, voli-
tions are necessary, and we are plunged head-
long again into an absolute and universal necessity.
If the sensitivity be not necessary, then we have
shown fully, above, that we have to account for
its various determinations just as we are suppos-
ed to be called upon to account for the various
determinations of the will when considered as a
power distinct from the sensitivity: — we are met
with the questions, why does the sensitivity rep-
resent this object as more agreeable than that
object ? — or the same object as agreeable at one
time, and disagreeable at another ? Or if these
various determinations are resolved into an an-
tecedent necessity comprehending them, then we
go up to the antecedent cause in which this ne-
cessity resides, and question it in like manner.

But one thing remains, and that is to consider
the will as primary cause, contingent in opposi-
tion to being necessitated — a cause having in it-
self the power of making these various volitions or
21

242 KWMIN.VTION OF \ K<- 1 MI'.NTS AGAINST

;iis us, and neither asking nor allowing of any ex-
planation of its acts, or their particular direction,
save its own peculiarity and energy as will.

The question respecting the indifferency of will
must now be considered. The term indifferency
comes up in consequence of considering the will
as distinct from the sensitivity. It is not desire
or feeling — it is a power indifferent to the agrec-
ableness or disagreeableness of objects.

It is also a power distinct from the reason ; it
is not conviction or belief — it is a power indif-
ferent to the true and the right, to the false and
the wrong, in the sense that it is not necessarily
determined by conviction and belief, by the true
and the right, or by the false and the wrong.
The conception of will in its utmost simplicity is
the conception of pure power, self-moving, and
self-conscious — containing within itself the ground
and the possibility of creation and of modification.
In God it is infinite, eternal, uncreated power ;
and every nisus in his will is really creative or
modifying, according to its self-directed aim. In
man it is constituted, dependent, limited, and ac-
countable.

Now in direct connexion with power, we have
the conception of law or rule, or what power
ought to do. This law or rule is revealed in the

A CONTINGENT WILL.

reason. In man as pure, and we conclude in God
likewise, as the archetype of all spirit, there is
given a sensitivity or a capacity to be affected
agreeably by, and to be drawn towards the ob-
jects approved and commanded by the reason.
If this sensitivity does not move in harmony with
the reason, it is corrupted. Now will is placed
in a triunity with these two other powers. We
can distinguish but not separate it from them. A
will without reason would be a power without
eyes, or light. A will without sensitivity would
be a power stern and isolated; — just as a reason
and sensitivity without will, would be without ef-
ficiency, or capacity of giving real manifesta-
tions.

The completeness and perfection of each, lies
in a union with all ; but then each in its proper
movements is in some sense independent and free
of the others. The convictions, beliefs, or per-
ceptions of reason are not made, nor can they be
unmade by the energy of the will. Nor has the
will any direct command over the sensitivitv.
And yet the will can excite and direct both the
reason and the sensitivity, by calling up objects
and occasions. The sensitivity does not govern
the reason, and yet it supplies conditions which
are necessary to its manifestations.

244 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AOAINST

The reason does not govern the sensitivity, and
yet the latter would have no definite perception,
and of course its highest sensibilities would lie
dormant without the reason.

So also the reason and the sensitivity do not
determine the acts of the will. The will has ef-
ficiency, or creative and modifying power in it-
self— self-moved, self-directed. But then without
reason and sensitivity, the will would be without
objects, without designs, without rules, — a solita-
ry power, conscious of ability to do, but not know-
ing what to do.

It addition to the above, the will has this high
and distinguishing peculiarity. That it alone is
free — that it alone is opposed to necessity. Rea-
son must perceive, must believe. Sensitivity must
feel when its objects are presented ; but will,
when the reason has given its light and uttered
its commands, — and when the sensitivity has
awakened all its passions and emotions, is not
compelled to obey. It is as conscious of power
not to do, as of power to do. It may be called a
power arbitrary and contingent ; but this means
only that it is a power which absolutely puts forth
its own nisus, and is free.

It follows from this, that the will can act irre-
spective of both reason and sensitivity, if an ob-

A CONTINGENT WILL. 245

ject of action, bearing no relation to reason or
sensitivity, be possible. It is plain that an object
bearing no such relation, must be very trifling.
If a case in illustration could not be called up, it
would not argue anything against the indifferency
of will ; — it would only prove that all objects of
action actually existing, bear some relation to
reason and sensitivity. There is a case, how-
ever, frequently called up, and much disputed,
which deserves some attention, and which it ap-
pears to me, offers the illustration required. Let
it be required to select one of the squares of the
chess-board. In selecting one of the squares,
does the will act irrespective of reason and sen-
sitivity, or not ? Those who hold that the will is
necessarily determined, must make out some con-
nexion between the act of selection, and the rea-
son and sensitivity. It is affirmed that there is a
general motive which determines the whole pro-
cess, viz : the aim or desire to illustrate, if possi-
ble, the question in dispute. The motive is, to
prove that the will can act without a motive.

I reply to this, that this is undoubtedly the mo-
tive of bringing the chess-board before the eye,
and in making all the preparations for a selection ;
— but now the last question is, which square shall I
select ? The illustration will have the same force
21*

846 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAIN- f

whichever square is selected, and there is no
motive that can be drawn cither from the reason
or the sensitivity for taking one square in prefer-
ence to the other: under the absence of all such
motives, and affording each time the same at-
tempt at illustration, I can vary the selection
sixty-four times : in making this selection, there-
fore, it appears to me, there is an entire indiffer-
ency as to which, particular square is selected ;
— there is no command of the reason directing to
one square rather than another ; — there is no af-
fection of the sensitivity towards one square ra-
ther than another, as most agreeable — and yet
the will does select one of the squares.

It will be proper, in this place, to consider the
following argument of Edwards against indiffer-
ence of will : "Choice may be immediately after
a state of indifference, but cannot co-exist with it:
even the very beginning of it is not in a state of
indifference. And,, therefore, if this be liberty, no
act of the will, in any degree, is ever performed
in a state of liberty, or in the time of liberty. Vo-
lition and liberty are so far from agreeing to-
gether, and being essential one to another, that
they are contrary one to another, and one ex-
cludes and destroys the other, as much as motion
and rest, light and darkness, or life and deaths
(p. 73.)

A CONTINGENT WILL. 247

Edwards reasons according to his own psycho-
logy: If the will and the sensitivity are one, the will
cannot well be conceived of as in a state of indiffe-
rence, and if it could be conceived of as in a state
of indifference before it exercises volition, inasmuch
as, according to his system again, volition is the
sense of the most agreeable, the moment volition
begins, indifference ceases; and hence, if liberty
consist in indifference, liberty must cease when
volition takes place, just as rest ceases with motion.

But according to the system of psychology,
which we adopt, and which I shall verify here-
after, the will is not one with the sensitivity,
but is clearly distinguishable from it: — the sen-
sitivity is the capacity of feeling ; the will is the
causality of the soul: — a movement of the sensi-
tivity, under the quality of indifference, is self-
contradictory; and a movement of the will being
a mere nisus of cause, under the quality of any
sense and feeling whatever, would be self-contra-
dictory likewise; it would be confounding that
which we had already distinguished. From Ed-
wards's very definition of will it cannot be indiffe-
rent ; from our very definition of will it cannot
be otherwise than indifferent. When it deter-
mines exclusively of both reason and sensitivity,
it of course must retain, in the action, the indiffc-

248 i:\VMI\ATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

rencc which it possessed before the action ; but
this is no less true when it determines in the di-
rection cither of reason or sensitivity. When the
determination is in the direction of the reason,
there is an exercise of reason in connexion with
the act, and all the interest of the reason is
wakened up, but the will considered in its entire
simplicity, knows only the nisus of power. When
the determination is in the direction of the sensi-
tivity, there is a play of emotions and passions,
but the will again knows only the nisus of power
which carries it in this direction.

In the unity of the soul these powers are
generally found acting together. It may be
difficult to distinguish them, and this, in con-
nexion with the constantly observed fact of the
fixed correlation between physical causes and the
masses which they operate upon, may lead to the
conclusion that there is a fixed correlation like-
wise between the will and its objects, regarding
the will as the sensitivity ; or at least, that there is
a fixed connexion between the will and the sensi-
tivity, so that the former is invariably governed
by the latter. We have already shown, that to
identify sensitivity and will does not relieve us
from the difficulties of a self-determined and con-
tingent will, unless we plunge into absolute neces-

A CONTINGENT WILL. 240

sity ; and that to make the sensitivity govern the
will, is only transferring to the sensitivity the diffi-
culties which we suppose, to encompass the will.
In our psychological investigations it will appear
how clearly distinguishable those powers are, and
also how clearly independent and sovereign will
is, inasmuch as it does actually determine at one
time, in opposition to the most agreeable ; at an-
other, in opposition to reason ; and at another, in
opposition to both conjoined. In the unity of our
being, however, we perceive that will is designed
to obey the reason, and as subordinated to rea-
son, to move within the delights of the sensitivi-
ty; and we know that we are acting unreason-
ably and senselessly when we act otherwise ; but
yet unreasonably and senselessly do we often
act. But when we do obey reason, although we
characterize the act from its direction, will does
not lose its simplicity and become reason ; and
when we do obey the sensitivity, will does not be-
come sensitivity — will is still simply cause, and
its act the nisus of power: thought, and con-
viction, and design, hold their place in the reason
alone : emotion and passion their place in the
sensitivity alone.

250 EXAMINATION OF AIUJUMJ'.NTS AGAINST

ARGUMENT

THE DIVINE PRESCIENCE.

Edwards's argument against a contingent, self-
determining will, drawn from the divine presci-
ence, remains to be considered.

The argument is introduced as follows : " That
the acts of the wills of moral agents are not con-
tingent events, in such a sense as to be without
all necessity, appears by God's certain foreknow-
ledge of such events." (sec. xi. p. 98.) Edwards
devotes this section to " the evidence of God's
certain foreknowledge of the volitions of moral
agents." In the following section, (sec. xii. p.
114,) he proceeds formally with his argument.
Before examining this argument, let us look at
the consequences of his position.

God foresees all volitions ; that he foresees
them makes their existence necessary. If their
existence were not necessary, he could not fore-
see them ; or, to express it still more generally,
foreknowledge extends to all events, and fore-
knowledge proves the necessary existence of
everything to which it extends. It follows from

A CONTINGENT WILL. 251

this, that all events exist with an absolute neces-
sity,— all physical phenomena, all volitions, and
moral phenomena, whether good or evil, and all
the divine volitions, for God cannot but foresee
his own volitions. In no part of his work, does
Edwards lay down more summarily and deci-
dedly, the doctrine of absolute and universal ne-
cessity. We have already, in part II. of this
treatise, deduced the consequences of this doc-
trine. If then we are placed upon the alternative
of denying the divine prescience of volitions, or
of acknowledging the doctrine of necessity, it
would practically be most desirable and wisest to
take the first part of the alternative. " If it could
be demonstrated," remarks Dugald Stewart, (vol.
5. app. sec. viii.) u which in my opinion has not
yet been done, that the prescience of the volitions
of moral agents is incompatible with the free agen-
cy of man, the logical inference would be, not in
favour of the scheme of necessity, but that there
are some events, the foreknowledge of which im-
plies an impossibility. Shall we venture to affirm,
that it exceeds the power of God to permit such
a train of contingent events to take place, as his
own foreknowledge shall not extend to ? Does
not such a proposition detract from the omnipo-
tence of God, in the same proportion in which it

252 EXAMINATION OF ASOBMBNTfl AGAINST

aims to exalt his omniscience !" If the divine
foreknowledge goes to establish the doctrine of
necessity, there is nothing left that it is worth
while to contend for; all mora] and theological
interests vanish away. But let us examine the
argument of Edwards.

This argument consists of three parts ; we shall
consider them in order.

I. Edwards lays down, that a past event is ne-
cessary, "having already made sure of existence;"
but divine foreknowledge is such an event, and is
therefore necessary. This is equivalent to the
axiom, that whatever is, is. He next affirms, that
whatever is " indissolubly connected with other
things that are necessary, are themselves neces-
sary ;" but events infallibly foreknown, have an
indissoluble connexion with the foreknowledge.
Hence, the volitions infallibly foreknown by God,
have an indissoluble connexion with his foreknow-
ledge, and are therefore necessary.

The force of this reasoning turns upon the con-
nexion between foreknowledge and the events
foreknown. This connexion is affinned to be
" indissoluble ;" that is, the foreknowledge is cer-
tainly connected with the event. But this only
amounts to the certainty of divine foreknowledge,
and proves nothing as to the nature of the exist-

A CONTINGENT WILL. 253

ence foreknown. We may certainly know a past
or present event, but our knowledge of its exist-
ence defines nothing as to the manner in wliich it
came to exist. I look out of my window, and I
see a man walking in a certain direction : I have
a positive knowledge of this event, and it cannot
but be that the man is walking ; but then my
knowledge of his walking has no influence upon
his walking, as cause or necessary antecedent ;
and the question whether his walking be contin-
gent or necessary is entirely distinct, and relates
to the cause of walking. I looked out of my
window yesterday, and saw a man walking ; and
the knowledge of that event I now retain, so that
it cannot but be that the man walked yesterday :
but this again leaves the question respecting the
mode of existence untouched : — Did the man walk
of necessity, or was it a contingent event ? Now
let me suppose myself endowed with the faculty
of prescience, sufficiently to know the events of
to-morrow ; then by this faculty I may see a man
walking in the time called to-morrow, just as by
the faculty of memory I see a man walking in the
time called yesterday. The knowledge, whether
it relate to past, present, or future, as a knowledge
in relation to myself, is always a present know-
ledge ; but the object known may stand in various
22

^51 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

relations of time, place, &c. Now in relation to
the future, no more than in relation to the past
and present, does the act of knowledge on my
part, explain anything in relation to the mode of
\istcnce of the object of knowledge. Ed-
wards remarks, (p. 121.) "All certain knowledge,
whether it be foreknowledge, or after-knowledge,
or concomitant knowledge, proves the thing known
now to be necessary, by some means or other ; or
proves that it is impossible that it should now be
otherwise than true."

Edwards does not distinguish between the cer-
tainty of the mere fact of existence, and the ne-
cessity by which anything comes to exist. Fore-
knowledge, after-knowledge, and concomitant
knowledge, — that is, the present knowledge of
events, future, past, or present, — proves of course
the reality of the events ; that they will be, have
been, or are : or, more strictly speaking, the
knowledge of an event, in any relation of time, is
the affirmation of its existence in that relation ;
but the knowledge of the event neither proves nor
affirms the necessity of its existence. If the know-
ledge of the event were the cause of the event, or
if it genetically comprehended it in its own exist-
ence, then, upon strict logical principles, the neces-
sity affirmed of the knowledge would be affirmed
of the event likewise.

A CONTINGENT WILL. 255

That God foreknows all volitions is granted ;
that as he foreknows them, they will be, is also
granted ; his foreknowledge of them is the posi-
tive affirmation of their reality in time future ;
but by supposition, God's foreknowledge is not
their cause, and does not generically comprehend
them ; they are caused by wills acting in the fu-
ture. Hence God's foreseeing how the wills act-
ing in the time future, will put forth or determine
their volitions, does not take away from these
wills the contingency and freedom belonging to
them, any more than our witnessing how wills
act in the time present, takes away from them
their contingency and freedom. God in his pre-
science, is the spectator of the future, as really as
we are the spectators of the present.

Edwards's reasoning is a sort of puzzle, like
that employed sometimes for exercising the stu-
dent of logic in the detection of fallacies : for ex-
ample, a man in a given place, must necessarily
either stay in that place, or go away from that
place ; therefore, whether he stays or goes away,
he acts necessarily. Now it is necessary, in the
nature of things, that a man as well as any other
body should be in some place, but then it does
not follow from this, that his determination,
whether to stay or go, is a necessary determina-

856 i EXAMINATION or LBSUMENTfl &GAIN8T

tion. His necessary condition as a body, is entire-
ly distinct from the question respecting the ne-
cessity or contingency of his volitions. And so
also in respect of the divine foreknowledge : all
human volitions as events occurring in time, arc
subject to the necessary condition of being fore-
known by that Being, "who inhabiteth eternity/*
but this necessary condition of their existence
neither proves nor disproves the necessity or the
contingency of their particular causation.

II. The second proposition in Edwards's argu-
ment is, " No future event can be certainly fore-
known, whose existence is contingent, and without
all necessity." His reasoning in support of this is
as follows: 1. "It is impossible for a thing to be
certainly known to any intellect without cviderice."

2. A contingent future event is without evidence.

3. Therefore, a contingent future event is not a
possible object of knowledge. I dispute both pre-
mises: That which is known by evidence or proof
is mediate knowledge, — that is, we know it
through something which is immediate, standing
between the faculty of knowledge and the object
of knowledge in question. That which is known
intuitively is known without proof, and this is im-
vi< (Hate knowledge. In this way all axioms or
first truths and all facts of the senses are known.

A CONTINGENT WILL. 257

Indeed evidence itself implies immediate know-
ledge, for the evidence by which anything is known
is itself immediate knowledge. To a Being, there-
fore, whose knowledge fills duration, future and
past events may be as immediately known as pre-
sent events. Indeed, can we conceive of God
otherwise than immediately knowing all things?
An Infinite and Eternal Intelligence cannot be
thought of under relations of time and space, or
as arriving at knowledge through media of proof
or demonstration. So much for the first premise.
The second is equally untenable : " A contingent
future event is without evidence," We grant with
Edwards that it is not self-evident, implying by
that the evidence arising from " the necessity of
its nature," as for example, 2x2=4. What is
self-evident, as we have already shown, does not
require any evidence or proof, but is knowrn im-
mediately; and a future contingent event may be
self-evident as a fact lying before the divine
mind, rer.ching into futurity, although it cannot be
self-evident from " the necessity of its nature."

But Edwards affirms, that " neither is there any
proof or evidence in anything else, or evidence of
connexion with something else that is evident ;
for this is also contrary to the supposition. It is
supposed that there is now nothing existent with
22*

268 EXAMINATION OF AXOVMBNTi AGAINST

which the future existence of the contingent event
is connected. For such a connexion destroys its
contingency and supposes necessity." (p. 116.)
He illustrates his meaning by the following exam-
ple : "Suppose that five thousand seven hundred
and sixty years ago, there was no other being but
the Divine Being, — and then this world, or some
particular body or spirit, all at once starts out of no-
thing into being, and takes on itself a particular na-
ture and form — all in absolute contingence, — with-
out any concern of God, or any other cause in the
matter, — without any manner of ground or reason
of its existence, — or any dependence upon, or
connexion at all with anything foregoing ; — I
say that if this be supposed, there was no evi-
dence of that event beforehand. There was no
evidence of it to be seen in the thing itself ; for
the thing itself as yet was not; and there was no
evidence of it to be seen in any thing else; for
evidence in something else ; is connexion with some-
thing else ; but such connexion is contrary to the
supposition." (p. 11G.)

The amount of this reasoning is this : That inas-
much as a contingent event exists " without any
concern of God, or any other cause in the mattt r,
— without any manner of ground or reason of its
existence, — or any dependence upon or connexion

A CONTINGENT WILL. 259

with anything foregoing" — there is really no-
thing by which it can be proved beforehand. If
Edwards be right in this definition of a contingent
event, viz.: that it is an event without any cause
or ground of its existence, and " that there is no-
thing now existent with which the future cxist-
tence of the contingent event is connected," then
this reasoning must be allowed to be conclusive.
But I do not accede to the definition : Contingence
1 repeat again, is not opposed to cause but to ne-
cessity. The world may have sprung into being by
absolute contingence more than five thousand years
ago, and yet have sprung into being at the com-
mand of God himself, and its existence have been
foreseen by him from all eternity. The contin-
gence expresses only the freedom of the divine
will, creating the world by sovereign choice, and
at the moment of creation, conscious of power to
withhold the creative visas, — creating in the light
of his infinite wisdom, but from no compulsion or
necessity of motive therein found. Under this
view to foresee creation was nothing different
from foreseeing his own volitions.

The ground on which human volitions can be
foreseen, is no less plain and reasonable. In the
first place, future contingent volitions are never
without a cause and sufficient ground of their ex-

2G0 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

istence, the individual will being always taken as
the cause and sufficient ground of the individual
volitions. God has therefore provided for the pos-
sible existence of volitions other than his own, in
the creation and constitution of finite free will.
Now, in relation to him, it is not required to con-
ceive <>f media by which all the particular voli-
tions may be made known or proved to his mind,
previous to their actual existence. Whatever he
knows, he knows by direct and infinite intuition ;
he cannot be dependent upon any media for his
knowledge. It is enough, as I have already shown.
to assign him prescience, in order to bring within
his positive knowledge all future contingent voli-
tions. He knows all the variety and the full ex-
tent of the possible, and amid the possible he fore-
sees the actual ; and he foresees not only that
class of the actual which, as decreed and deter-
mined by himself, is relatively necessary, but also
that class of the actual which is to spring up under
the characteristic of contingency.

And herein, I would remark, lies the superiority
of the divine prescience over human forecast, —
in that the former penetrates the contingent as
accurately as the necessary. With the latter it is
far otherwise. Human forecast or calculation
can foresee the motions of the planets, eclipses of

A CONTINGENT WILL. 261

the sun and moon, and even the flight of the com-
ets, because they are governed by necessary laws ;
but the volitions of the human will form the sub-
ject of only probable calculations.

But if human volitions, as contingent, form the
subject of probable calculations, there must be in
opposition to Edwards something "that is evi-
dent" and "now existent, with which the future
existence of the contingent event is connected."

There are three kinds of certainty. First, ab-
solute certainty. This is the certainty which lies
in necessary and eternal principles : e. g. 2 x 2=4 ;
the existence of space ; every body must be in
space ; every phenomenon must have a cause ;
the being of God.

Logical certainty, that is, the connexion be-
tween premises and conclusion, is likewise abso-
lute.

Secondly. Physical certainty. This is the
certainty which lies in the connexion between
physical causes and their phenomena : e. g. grav-
itation, heat, chemical affinities in general, me-
chanical forces.

The reason conceives of these causes as inhe-
rently active and uniform ; and hence, wherever
a physical cause exists, we expect its proper phe-
nomena.

262 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

Now we do not call the operation of these cau-
ses absolutely certain, because they depend ulti-
mately upon will, — the will of God ; and we can
conceive that the same will which ordained them,
can change, suspend, or even annihilate them :
they have no intrinsic necessity, — still, as causes
given in time and space, we conceive of them
generally as immutable. If in any case they be
changed, or suspended, we are compelled to re-
cognise the presence of that will which ordained
them. Such change or suspension we call a mir-
acle ; that is, a surprise, — a wonder, — because
it is unlooked for.

When, therefore, we affirm any thing to be
physically certain, wre mean that it is certain in
the immutability of a cause acting in time and
space, and under a necessity relatively to the di-
vine will ; but still not absolutely certain, because
there is a possibility of a miracle. But when we
affirm any thing to be absolutely certain, we mean
that it is certain as comprehended in a principle
which is unalterable in its very nature, and is
therefore independent of will.

Thirdly. Moral certainty, is the certainty
which lies between the connexion of motive and
will. By will we mean a self-conscious and in-
telligent cause, or a cause in unity with intelli-

A CO.NTLNGENT WILL. 2G3

gence. It is also, in the fullest sense, a cause per
se ; that is, it contains within itself proper efficien-
cy, and determines its own direction. By motives
we mean the reasons according to which the will
acts. In general, all activity proceeds according
to rules, or laws, or reasons ; for they have the
same meaning : but in mere material masses, the
rule is not contemplated by the acting force, — it
is contemplated only by the intelligence which
ordained and conditioned the force. In spirit, on
the contrary, the activity which we call will is
self-conscious, and is connected with a perception
of the reasons, or ends, or motives of action.
These motives or ends of action are of two kinds.
First, those found in the ideas of the practical
reason, which decides what is fit and right. These
are reasons of supreme authority. Secondly, those
found in the understanding and sensitivity : e. g.
the immediately useful and expedient, and the
gratification of passion. These are right only
when subordinate to the first.

Now these reasons and motives are a light to the
will, and serve to direct its activities ; and the
human conscience, which is but the reason, has
drawn up for the will explicit rules, suited to all
circumstances and relations, which are called
ethics, or the rules.

U01 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

These rules the will is not compelled or neces-
sitated to obey. In every volition it is conscious
of a power to do or not to do ; but yet, as the will
forms a unity with the intelligence, we take for
granted that it will obey them, unless grounds for
an opposite conclusion are apparent. But the
only probable ground for a disobedience of these
rules lies in a state of sinfulness, — a corruption of
the sensitivity, — or a disposition to violate the
harmony and fitness of the spiritual constitution.
Hence moral certainty can exist only where the
harmony of the spiritual being is preserved. For
example : God and good angels. In God moral
certainty is infinite. His dispositions are infi-
nitely pure, and his will freely determines to do
right ; it is not compelled or necessitated, for then
his infinite meritoriousness would cease. Moral
certainty is not absolute, because will being a pow-
er to do or not to do, there is always a possibility,
although there may be no probability, nay an in-
finite improbability, that the will may disobey the
laws of the reason.

In the case of angels and good men, the moral
certainty is such as to be attended with no ap-
prehension of a dereliction. With respect to such
men as Joseph, Daniel, Paul, Howard, and Wash-
ington, we can calculate with a very high and sat-

A CONTINGENT WILL. 265

isfactory moral certainty, of the manner in which
they will act in any given circumstances involv-
ing the influence of motives. We know they will
obey truth, justice, and mercy, — that is, the first
class of motives ; and the second only so far as
they are authorized by the first. If the first class
of motives are forsaken, then human conduct can
be calculated only according to the influence of
the second class.

Human character, however, is mixed and vari-
ously compounded. "We might make a scale of an
indefinite number of degrees, from the highest
point of moral excellence to the lowest point of
moral degradation, and then our predictions of
human conduct would vary with every degree.

In any particular case where we are called up-
on to reason from the connexion of motives with
the will, it is evident we must determine the cha-
racter of the individual as accurately as possible,
in order to know the probable resultant of the op-
posite moral forces which we are likely to find.

We have remarked that moral certainty exists
only where the harmony of the moral constitution
is preserved. Here we know the right will be
obeyed. It may be remarked in addition to this,
however, that moral certainty may almost be said
to exist in the case of the lowest moral degrada-
2:3

206 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

tion, where the right is altogether forsaken. Here
the rule is, "whatever is most agreeable;" and
the volition is indeed merged into the sense of the
most agreeable. But in the intermediate state
lies the wide held of probability. What is com-
monly called the knowledge of human nature, and
esteemed of most importance in the affairs of life
is not the knowledge of human nature as it ought
to be, but as it is in its vast variety of good and
evil. We gain this knowledge from observation
and history. What human nature ought to be, we
learn from reason.

On a subject of so much importance, and where
it is so desirable to have clear and definite ideas,
the rhetorical ungracefulncss of repetition is of lit-
tle moment, when this repetition serves our great
end. I shall be pardoned, therefore, in calling
the attention of the reader to a point above sug-
gested, namely, that the will is in a triunity with
reason and sensitivity, and, in the constitution of
our being, is designed to derive its rules and in-
ducements of action from these. Acts which are
in the direction of neither reason nor sensitivity,
must be very trifling acts ; and therefore acts of
this description, although possible, we may con-
clude are very rare. In calculating, then, future
acts of will, we may, like the mathematicians, drop

A COXTINOIAT WILL.

infinitesimal differences, and assume that all acts
of the will are in the direction of reason or sensi-
tivity, or of both in their harmony. Although the
will is conscious of power to do, out of the direc-
tion of both reason and sensitivity, still, in the tri-
unity in which it exists, it submits itself to the
general interests of the being, and consults the
authority of conscience, or the enjoyments of pas-
sion. Now every individual has acquired for
himself habits and a character more or less fixed.
He is known to have submitted himself from day
to day, and in a great variety of transactions, to
the laws of the conscience ; and hence we con-
clude that he has formed for himself a fixed pur-
pose of doing right. He has exhibited, too, on
many occasions, noble, generous, and pure feel-
ings ; and hence we conclude that his sensitivity
harmonizes with conscience. Or he is known to
have violated the laws of the conscience from day
to day, and in a great variety of transactions : and
hence we conclude that he has formed for himself
a fixed purpose of doing wrong. He has exhibit-
ed, too, on many occasions, low, selfish, and im-
pure feelings ; and hence we conclude that his
sensitivity is in collision with conscience.

In both cases supposed, and in like manner in
all supposable cases, there is plainly a basis on

2GS r.XAMIXATION OF AIM. DM i:\l- \(.\IN-[

which, in any given circumstances, we may fore-
see and predict volitions. There is something
"that is evident and now existent with which the
future existence of the contingent event is con-
nected." On the one hand these prediction
crt no necessitating influence over the events
themselves, for they are entirely disconnected with
the causation of the events : and, on the other hand,
the events need not be assumed as necessary in or-
der to become the objects of probable calculations.
If they were necessary, the calculations would no
longer be merely probable : — they would, on the
contrary, take the precision and certainty of the
calculation of eclipses and other phenomena based
upon necessary laws. But these calculations can
aim only at moral certainty, because they are made
according to the generally known and received
determinations of will in a unity with reason and
sensitivity ; but still a will which is known also to
have the power to depart at any moment from
the line of determination which it has established
for itself. Thus the calculations which we make
respecting the conduct of one man in given cir-
cumstances, based on his known integrity, and
the calculations which we make respecting anoth-
er, based on his known dishonesty, may alike dis-
appoint us, through the unexpected, though possi-

A CONTINGENT WILL. 269

ble dereliction of the first, and the unexpected,
though possible reformation of the latter. When
we reason from moral effects to moral causes, or
from moral causes to moral effects, we cannot
regard the operation of causes as positive and
uniform under the same law of necessity which
appertains to physical causes, because in moral
causality the free will is the efficient and last de-
terminer. It is indeed true that we reason here
with a high degree of probability, with a proba-
bility sufficient to regulate wisely and harmoni-
ously the affairs of society : but we cannot reason
respecting human conduct, as we reason respect-
ing the phenomena of the physical world, because
it is possible for the human will to disappoint calcula-
tions based upon the ordinary influence of motives :
e. g. the motive does not hold the same relation to
will which fire holds to combustible substance ; the
fire must burn ; the will may or may not determine
in view of motive. Hence the reason why, in
common parlance, probable evidence has received
the name of moral evidence : moral evidence be-
ing generally probable, all probable evidence is
called moral.

The will differs from physical causes in being
a cause per se, but although a cause per se, it has
laws to direct its volitions. It may indeed violate
23*

\!;<> EXAMINATION OS ARCFOHBNTfl AGAINST

these laws and become a most arbitrary and in-
constant law unto itself; but this violation of law
and this arbitrary determination do not arise from
it necessarily as a cause p< r « . but from an abuse
of its liberty. As a cause in unity with the laws
of the reason, we expect it to be uniform, and in its
harmonious and perfect movements it is uniform.
Physical causes are uniform because God has de-
termined and fixed them according to laws derived
from infinite wisdom.

The human will may likewise be uniform by
obeying the laws of conscience, but the departures
may also be indefinitely numerous and various.

To sum up these observations in general state-
ments, we remark ; —

First: The connexion on which we base pre-
dictions of human volitions, is the connexion of
will with reason and sensitivity in the unity of the
mind or spirit.

Secondly : By this connexion, the will is seen
to be designed to be regulated by truth and right-
eousness, and by feeling subordinated to these.

Thirdly : In the purity of the soul, the will is
thus regulated.

Fourthly : This regulation, however, does not
take place by the necessary governance which
reason and sensitivity have over will, but by a

A CONTINGENT WILL. 271

self-subjection of will to their rules and induce-
ments : — this constitutes meritoriousness, — the
opposite conduct constitutes ill desert.

Fifthly : Our calculations must proceed accord-
ing to the degree and fixedness of this self-subjec-
tion to reason and right feeling ; or where this
does not exist, according to the degree and fixed-
ness of the habits of wrong doing, in a self-
subjection to certain passions in opposition to
reason.

Sixthly : Our calculations will be more or less
certain according to the extent and accuracy of
our observations upon human conduct.

Seventhly : Our calculations can never be at-
tended with absolute certainty, because the will
being contingent, has the power of disappointing
calculations made upon the longest observed uni-
formity.

Eighthly : Our expectations respecting the de-
terminations of Deity are attended with the high-
est moral certainty. We say moral certainty, be-
cause it is certainty not arising from necessity,
and in that sense absolute ; but certainty arising
from the free choice of an infinitely pure being.
Thus, when God is affirmed to be immutable, and
when it is affirmed to be impossible for him to lie,
it cannot be meant that he has not the power to

272 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

change or to determine contrary to truth ; but
that there is an infinite moral certainty arising
from the perfection of his nature, that he never
will depart from infinite wisdom and rectitude.

To assign God any other immutability would
be to deprive him of freedom.

Ninthly : The divine foresight of human voli-
tions need not be supposed to necessitate them,
any more than human foresight, inasmuch as fore-
seeing them, has no necessary connexion in any
case with their causation. Again, if it does not
appear essential to the divine foresight of volitions
that they should be necessary. We have .seen
that future contingent volitions may be calculated
with a high degree of certainty even by men ;
and now supposing that the divine being must
proceed in the same way to calculate them through
?nedia, — the reach and accuracy of his calcula-
tions must be in the proportion of his intelligence,
and how far short of a certain and perfect know-
ledge of all future contingent volitions can infinite
intelligence be supposed to fall by such calcula-
tions ?

Tenthly : But we may not suppose that the
infinite mind is compelled to resort to deduction,
or to employ media for arriving at any particu-
lar knowledge. In the attribute of prescience,

IN VI

273

A CONTINGENT WILL.

he is really present to all the possible and actual
of the future.

III. The third and last point of Edwards's ar-
gument is as follows : "To suppose the future vo-
litions of moral agents, not to be necessary events:
or which is the same thing, events which it is not
impossible but that they may not come to pass ;
and yet to suppose that God certainly foreknows
them, and knows all things, is to suppose God's
knowledge to be inconsistent with itself. For to
say that God certainly and without all conjec-
ture, knows that a thing will infallibly be, which
at the same time he knows to be so contingent,
that it may possibly not be, is to suppose his
knowledge inconsistent with itself; or that one
thing he knows is utterly inconsistent with an-
other thing he knows." (page 117.)

The substance of this reasoning is this. That
inasmuch as a contingent future event is uncer-
tain from its very nature and definition, it cannot
be called an object of certain knowledge, to any
mind, not even to the divine mind, without a
manifest contradiction. " It is the same as to
say, he now knows a proposition to be of certain
infallible truth, Which he knows to be of contin-
gent uncertain truth.''

We have here again an error arising from not

'-" 1 i:\.\MINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

making a proper distinction, which I have already
pointed out, — the distinction between the cer-
tainty of a future volition as a mere fact existent,
and the manner in which that fact came to exist.

The fact of volition comes to exist contingent-
ly ; that is, by a power which in giving it exist-
ence, is under no law of necessity, and at the
moment of causation, is conscious of ability to
withhold the causative nisus. Now all volitions
which have already come to exist in this way,
have both a certain and contingent existence. It is
certain that they have come to exist, for that is a
matter of observation ; but their existence is also
contingent, because they came to exist, not by ne-
cessity as a mathematical conclusion, but by a
cause contingent and free, and which, although
actually giving existence to these volitions, had
the power to withhold them.

Certainty and contingency are not opposed,
and exclusive of each other in reference to what
has already taken place. Are they opposed and
exclusive of each other in reference to the future ?
In the first place, we may reason on probable
grounds. Contingent causes have already pro-
duced volitions — hence they may produce voli-
tions in the future. They have produced voli-

A CONTINGENT WILL. 275

tions in obedience to laws of reason and sensitivi-
ty— hence they may do so in the future. They
have done this according to a uniformity self-im-
posed, and long and habitually observed — hence
this uniformity may be continued in the future.

A future contingent event may therefore have
a high degree of probability, and even a moral
certainty.

But to a being endowed with prescience, what
prevents a positive and infallible knowledge of a
future contingent event ? His mind extends to
the actual in the future, as easily as to the actual
in the past ; but the actual of the future is not
only that which comes to pass by his own deter-
mination and nisus, and therefore necessarily in
its relation to himself as cause, but also that which
comes to pass by the nisus of constituted wills,
contingent and free, as powers to do or not to do.
There is no opposition, as Edwards supposes, be-
tween the infallible divine foreknowledge, and
the contingency of the event; — the divine fore-
knowledge is infallible from its own inherent per-
fection ; and of course there can be no doubt but
that the event foreseen will come to pass ; but
then it is foreseen as an event coming to pass
contingently, and not necessarily.

The error we have just noted, appears again in

278 EXAMINATION <>r kROUMSNTfl AGAINST

the corollary which Edwards immediately deduces
from his third position. "From what has been
observed," he remarks, "it is evident, that the ab-
solute dt cr<<s of God are no more inconsistent
with human liberty, on account of the necessity
of the event which follows such decrees, than the
absolute foreknowledge of God." (page 118.) The
absolute decrees of God are the determinations
of his will, and comprehend the events to which
they relate, as the cause comprehends the effect.
Foreknowledge, on the contrary, has no causality
in relation to events foreknown. It is not a de-
termination of divine will, but a form of the di-
vine intelligence. Hence the decrees of God do
actually and truly necessitate events ; while the
foreknowledge of God extends to events which
are not necessary but contingent, — as well as to
those which are pre-determined.

Edwards always confounds contingency with
chance or no cause, and thus makes it absurd in
its very definition. He also always confounds
certainty with necessity, and thus compels us to
take the latter universal and absolute, or to plunge
into utter uncertainty, doubt, and disorder.

Prescience is an essential attribute of Deity.
Prescience makes the events foreknown, certain ;
but if certain, they must be necessary. And on

A CONTINGENT WILL. 277

the other hand, if the events were not certain,
they could not be foreknown, — for that which is
uncertain cannot be the object of positive and in-
fallible knowledge ; but if they are certain in or-
der to be foreknown, then they must be neces-
sary.

Again: contingence, as implying no cause, puts
all future events supposed to come under it, out
of all possible connexion with anything preceding
and now actually existent, and consequently al-
lows of no basis upon which they can be calcula-
ted and foreseen. Contingence, also, as opposed
to necessity, destroys certainty, and excludes the
possibility even of divine prescience. This is the
course of Edwards's reasoning.

Now if we have reconciled contingence with
both cause and certainty, and have opposed it
only to necessity, thus separating cause and cer-
tainty from the absolute and unvarying dominion
of necessity, then this reasoning is truly and legiti-
mately set aside.

Necessity lies only in the eternal reason, and
the sensitivity connected with it : — contingency
lies only in will. But the future acts of will can
be calculated from its known union with, and
self-subjection to the reason and sensitivity.

These calculations are more or less probable,
24

278 EXAMINATION OF \ IMMMENTS AGAINST

or arc certain according to the known character
of the person who is the subject of these calcula-
tions.

Of God wc do not aflirm merely the power of
calculating future contingent events upon known
data, but a positive prescience of all events. He
sees from the beginning how contingent causes
or wills, will act. He sees with absolute infal-
libility and certainty — and the events to him are
infallible and certain. But still they are not ne-
cessary, because the causes which produce them
are not determined and necessitated by anything
preceding. They are causes contingent and free,
and conscious of power not to do what they are
actually engaged in doing.

I am persuaded that inattention to the impor-
tant distinction of the certainty implied in the
divine foreknowledge, and the necessity implied
in the divine predetermination or decree, is the
great source of fallacious reasonings and conclu-
sions respecting the divine prescience. When
God pre-detcrmines or decrees, he fixes the event
by a necessity relative to himself as an infinite
and irresistible cause. It cannot be otherwise
than it is decreed, while his decree remains. But
when he foreknows an event, he presents us
merelv a form of his infinite intelligence, exert-

A CONTINGENT WILL. 279

ing no causative, and consequently no necessitat-
ing influence whatever. The volitions which I
am now conscious of exercising, are just what
they are, whether they have been foreseen or
not — and as they now do actually exist, they
have certainty ; and yet they are contingent, be-
cause I am conscious that I have power not to
exercise them. They are, but they might not
have been. Now let the intelligence of God be so
perfect, as five thousand years ago, to have fore-
seen the volitions which I am now exercising ; it
is plain that this foresight does not destroy the
contingency of the volitions, nor does the contin-
gency render the foresight absurd. The supposi-
tion is both rational and possible.

It is not necessary for us to consider the re-
maining corollaries of Edwards, as the applica-
tion of the above reasoning to them will be ob-
vious.

Before closing this part of the treatise in hand,
I deem it expedient to lay down something like
a scale of certainty. In doing this, I shall have
to repeat some things. But it is by repetition,
and by placing the same things in new positions,
that we often best attain perspicuity, and succeed
in rendering philosophical ideas familiar.

First ; Let us consider minutely the distinc-

>" EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

tion between certainty and necessity. Necessity
relates to truths and events considered in them-
selves. Certainty relates to our apprehension or
conviction of them. Hence necessity is not cer-
tainty itself, but a ground of certainty. Absolute
certainty relates only to truths or to being.

First or intuitive truths, and logical conclusions
drawn from them, are necessary with an absolute
necessity. They do not admit of negative suppo-
sitions, and are irrespective of will. The being
of God, and time, and space, are necessary with
an absolute necessity.

Relative necessity relates to logical conclusions
and events or phenomena. Logical conclusions
are always necessary relatively to the premises,
but cannot be absolutely necessary unless the
premises from which they are derived, are abso-
lutely necessary.

All phenomena and events are necessary with
only a relative necessity ; for in depending up-
on causes, they all ultimately depend upon will.
Considered therefore in themselves, they are
contingent ; for the will which produced them,
either immediately or by second or dependent
causes, is not necessitated, but free and contin-
gent— and therefore their non-existence is sup-
posable. But they are necessary relatively to

A CONTINGENT WILL. 281

will. The divine will, which gave birth to cre-
ation, is infinite ; when therefore the nisus of this
will was made, creation was the necessary result.
The Deity is under no necessity of willing ; but
when he does will, the effect is said necessarily
to follow — meaning by this, that the nisus of the
divine will is essential power, and that there is
no other power that can prevent its taking effect.

Created will is under no necessity of willing ;
but when it does will or make its nisus, effects
necessarily follow, according to the connexion es-
tablished by the will of Deity, between the nisus
of created will and surrounding objects. Where
a nisus of created will is made, and effects do not
follow, it arises from the necessarily greater force
of a resisting power, established by Deity likewise ;
so that whatever follows the nisus of created will,
whether it be a phenomenon without, or the mere
experience of a greater resisting force, it follows
by a necessity relative to the divine will.

When we come to consider will in relation to
its own volitions, we have no more necessity,
either absolute or relative ; we have contingency
and absolute freedom.

Now certainty we have affirmed to relate to
our knowledge or conviction of truths and events.

Necessity is one ground of certainty, both abso-
24*

282 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

lute and relative. We have a certain knowledge
or conviction of that which we perceive to be ne-
cessary id its own nature, or of which a negative
is not supposable ; and this, as based upon an ab-
solute necessity, may be called an absolute cer-
tainty.

The established connexion between causes and
effects, is another ground of certainty. Causes
are of two kinds ; first causes, or causes per sc, or
contingent and free causes, or will ; and second
or physical causes, which are necessary with a
relative necessity.

First causes are of two degrees, the infinite and
the finite.

Now we are certain, that whatever God wills,
will take place. This may likewise be called an
absolute certainty, because the connexion between
divine volitions and effects is absolutely necessary.
It is not supposable that God should will in vain,
for that would contradict his admitted infinity.

The connexion between the volitions of created
will and effects, and the connexion between phys-
ical causes and effects, supposing each of course
to be in its proper relations and circumstances, is
a connexion of relative necessity ; that is, relative
to the divine will. Now the certainty of our know-
ledge or conviction that an event will take place,

A CONTINGENT WILL. 283

depending upon volition or upon a physical cause, is
plainly different from the certain knowledge of a
necessary truth, or the certain conviction that an
event which infinite power wills, will take place.
The will which established the connexion, may at
any moment suspend or change the connexion.
I believe that when I will to move my hand over
this paper, it will move, supposing of course the
continued healthiness of the limb ; but it is possi-
ble for God so to alter the constitution of my
being, that my will shall have no more connexion
with my hands than it now has with the circula-
tion of the blood. I believe also that if I throw
this paper into the fire, it will burn; but it is pos-
sible for God so to alter the constitution of this
paper or of fire, that the paper will not burn ; and
yet I have a certain belief that my hand will con-
tinue to obey volition, and that paper will burn
in the fire. This certainly is not an absolute cer-
tainty, but a conditional certainty : events will thus
continue to take place on condition the divine will
does not change the condition of things. This
conditional certainty is likewise called a physical
certainty, because the events contemplated in-
clude besides the phenomena of consciousness,
which are not so commonly noticed, the events
or phenomena of the physical world, or nature.

284 i:\AMI.\ATION Off ARGUMENTS AGAINST

But we must next look at will itself in rela-
tion to its volitions : Here all is contingency and
freedom, — here is no necessity. Is there any
ground of certain knowledge respecting future
volitions?

If will as a cause per Be, were isolated and in
no relation whatever, there could not be any
ground of any knowledge whatever, respecting
future volitions. But will is not thus isolated.
On the contrary, it forms a unity with the sensi-
tivity and the reason. Reason reveals what ought
to be done, on the basis of necessary and un-
changeable truth. The sensitivity reveals what
is most desirable or pleasurable, on the ground of
personal experience. Now although it is granted
that will can act without deriving a reason or in-
ducement of action from the reason and the sen-
sitivity, still the instances in which it does so act,
are so rare and trifling, that they may be thrown
out of the account. We may therefore safely
assume as a general law, that the will determines
according to reasons and inducements drawn from
the reason and the sensitivity. This law is not
by its very definition, and by the very nature of
the subject to which it relates, a necessary law —
but a law revealed in our consciousness as one to
which the will, in the exercise of its freedom,

A CONTINGENT WILL. 285

docs submit itself. In the harmony and perfec-
tion of our being, the reason and the sensitivity
perfectly accord. In obeying the one or the
other, the will obeys both. With regard to per-
fect beings, therefore, we can calculate with cer-
tainty as to their volitions under any given cir-
cumstances. Whatever is commanded by reason,
whatever appears attractive to the pure sensitivi-
ty, will be obeyed and followed.

But what kind of certainty is this ? It is not
absolute certainty, because it is supposable that
the will which obeys may not obey, for it has
power not to obey. Nor is it jrfiysical certainty,
for it does not relate to a physical cause, nor to
the connexion between volition and its effects, but
to the connexion between will and its volitions.
Nor again can we, strictly speaking, call it a con-
ditional certainty ; because the will, as a power
per se, is under no conditions as to the production
of its volitions. To say that the volitions will be
in accordance with the reason and pure sensitivi-
ty, if the will continue to obey the reason and
pure sensitivity, is merely saying that the volitions
will be right if the willing power put forth right
volitions. What kind of certainty is it, then ? I
reply, it is a certainty altogether peculiar. — a
certainty based upon the relative state of the rea-

286 j:\ami.\atio.\ of aim.i mi:m- AOAINB1

son and the sensitivity, and their unity with the
will : and as the commands of reason in relation
to conduct have received the name of moral *
laws, simply because they have this relation, —
and as the sensitivity, when harmonizing with the
reason, is thence called morally pure, because at-
tracting to the same conduct which the reason
commands, — this certainty may fitly be called
?noral certainty. The name, however, does not
mark degree. Does this certainty possess de-
grees ? It does. With respect to the volitions of
God, we have the highest degree of moral cer-
tainty, — an infinite moral certainty. He, in-
deed, in his infinite will, has the power of pro-
ducing any volitions whatever ; but from his infi-
nite excellency, consisting in the harmony of infi-
nite reason with the divine affections of infinite
benevolence, truth, and justice, we are certain
that his volitions will always be right, good, and
wise. Besides, he has assured us of his fixed de-
termination to maintain justice, truth, and love :
and he has given us this assurance as perfectly
knowing himself in the whole eternity of his being.
Let no one attempt to confound this perfect mor-
al certainty with necessity, for the distinction is

* Lat. moralis, from mos, — i. c. custom or ordinary conduct.

A CONTINGENT WILL. 287

plain. If God's will were affirmed to be neces-
sarily determined in the direction of truth, right-
eousness, and love, it would be an affirmation re-
specting the manner of the determination of the
divine will: viz. — that the divine determination
takes place, not in contingency and freedom, not
with the power of making an opposite determina-
tion, but in absolute necessity. But if it be affirm-
ed that God's will, will certainly go in the direc-
tion of truth, righteousness, and love, the affirma-
tion respects our knowledge and conviction of the
character of the divine volitions in the whole
eternity of his being. We may indeed proceed
to inquire after the grounds of this knowledge
and conviction; and if the necessity of the divine
determinations be the ground of this knowledge
and conviction, it must be allowed that it is a suf-
ficient ground. But will any man assume that
necessity is the only ground of certain knowledge
and conviction ? If necessity be universal, em-
bracing all beings and events, then of course there
is no place for this question, inasmuch as any other
ground of knowledge than necessity is not sup-
posable. But if, at least for the sake of the argu-
ment, it be granted that there may be other
grounds of knowledge than necessity, then I would
ask whether the infinite excellence of the divine rea-

288 i:\AMIN-.YTION OF ARGIMINT- AGAINST

son and sensitivity, in their perfect harmony, does
afford to us aground for the most certain and sat-
isfactory belief that the divine will will create and
mould all being and order all events according to
infinite wisdom and rectitude. In order to have
full confidence that God will forever do right,
must we know that his will is absolutely necessi-
tated by his reason and his affections ? Can we
not enjoy this confidence, while we allow him ab-
solute freedom of choice ? Can we not believe
that the Judge of all the Earth will do right, al-
though in his free and omnipotent will he have
the power to do wrong ? And especially may we
not believe this, when, in his omniscience and his
truth, he has declared that his purposes will for-
ever be righteous, benevolent, and wise ? Does
not the glory and excellency of God appear in
this, — that while he hath unlimited power, he
employs that power by his free choice, only to
dispense justice, mercy, and grace ? And does
not the excellency and meritoriousness of a crea-
ture's faith appear in this, — that while God is
known to be so mighty and so absolute, he is con-
fided in as a being who will never violate any
moral principle or affection ? Suppose God's will
to be necessitated in its wise and good volitions,
— the sun dispensing heat and light, and by

A CONTINGENT WILL. 289

their agency unfolding and revealing the beauty
of creation, seems as truly excellent and worthy
of gratitude, — and the creature, exercising grati-
tude towards God and confiding in him, holds no
other relation to him than the sunflower to the
sun — by a necessity of its nature, ever turning its
face upwards to receive the influences which min-
ister to its life and properties.

The moral certainty attending the volitions of
created perfect beings is the same in kind witii that
attending the volitions of the Deity. It is a cer-
tainty based upon the relative state of the reason
and the sensitivity, and their unity with the will.
Wherever the reason and the sensitivity are in
harmony, there is moral certainty. I mean by
this, that in calculating the character of future vo-
litions in this case, we have not to calculate the
relative energy of opposing principles : — all which
is now existent is, in the constituted unity of the
soul, naturally connected only with good volitions.
But the degree of the moral certainty in created
beings, when compared with that attending the
volitions of Deity, is only in the proportion of
the finite to the infinite. The confidence which
we repose in the integrity of a good being, does
not arise from the conviction that his volitions are
necessitated, but from his known habit of obey-
25

990 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

ing truth and justice ; and our sense of his meri-
toriousness does not arise from the impossibility
of his doing wrong, but from his known determina-
tion and habit of doing right while having the
power of doing wrong, and while even under
temptations of doing wrong.

A certainty respecting volitions, if based upon
the necessity of the volitions, would not differ
from a physical certainty. But a moral certainty
has this plain distinction, — that it is based upon
the evidently pure dispositions and habits of the
individual, without implying, however, any neces-
sity of volitions.

Moral certainty, then, is predicablc only of
moral perfection, and predicablc in degrees ac-
cording to the dignity and excellency of the
being.

But now let us suppose any disorder to take
place in the sensitivity ; that is, let us suppose the
sensitivity, to any degree, to grow into opposition
to the reason, so that while the reason commands
in one direction, the sensitivity gives the sense of
the most agreeable in the opposite direction, —
and then our calculations respecting future voli-
tions must vary accordingly. Here moral cer-
tainty exists no longer, because volitions are now
to be calculated in connexion with opposing prin-

A CONTINGENT WILL, 291

ciples : calculations now attain only to the proba-
ble, and in different degrees.

By the probable, we mean that which has not
attained to certainty, but which nevertheless has
grounds on which it claims to be believed. We
call it probable or proveable, because it both has
proof and is still under conditions of proof, that is.
admits of still farther proof. That which is cer-
tain, has all the proof of which the case admits.
A mathematical proposition is certain on the
ground of necessity, and admits of no higher proof
than that which really demonstrates its truth.

The divine volitions are certain on the ground
of the divine perfections, and admit of no higher
proof than what is found in the divine perfections.

The volitions of a good created being are cer-
tain on the ground of the purity of such a being,
and admit of no higher proof than what is found
in this purity.

But when we come to a mixed being, that is, a
being of reason, and of a sensitivity corrupted to-
tally or in different degrees, then we have place
not for certainty, but for probability. As our
knowledge of the future volitions of such a being
can only be gathered from something now exist-
ent, this knowledge will depend upon our know-
ledge of the present relative state of his reason

893 EXAMINATION OF AROUMKNTS AOAI.WT.

and sensitivity ; but a perfect knowledge of this is
in no case supposable, — so that, although our ac-
tual knowledge of this being may be such as to
afford us proof of what his volitions may be,
yet, inasmuch as our knowledge of him may be
increased indefinitely by close observation and
study, so likewise will the proof be increased.
According to the definition of probability above
given, therefore, our knowledge of the future vo-
litions of an imperfect being can only amount to
probable knowledge.

The direction of the probabilities will be deter-
mined by the preponderance of the good or the
bad in the mixed being supposed. If the sensi-
tivity be totally corrupted, the probabilities will
generally go in the direction of the corrupted
sensitivity, because it is one observed general fact
in relation to a state of corruption, that the enjoy-
ments of passion are preferred to the duties en-
joined by the conscience. But the state of the
reason itself must be considered. If the reason
be in a highly developed state, and the convic-
tions of the right consequently clear and strong,
there may be probabilities of volitions in opposition
to passion which cannot exist where the reason is
undeveloped and subject to the errors and preju-
dices of custom and superstition. The difference

A CONTINGENT WILL. 293

is that which is commonly known under the terms
" enlightened and unenlightened conscience."

Where the sensitivity is not totally corrupted,
the direction of the probabilities must depend
upon the degree of corruption and the degree to
which the reason is developed or undeveloped.

With a given state of the sensitivity and the rea-
son, the direction of the probabilities will depend
also very much upon the correlated, or upon the
opposing objects and circumstances: — where the
objects and circumstances agree with the state of
the sensitivity and the reason, or to speak generally
and collectively, with " the state of the mind," the
probabilities will clearly be more easily determin-
ed than where they are opposed to " the state of
the mind."

The law which Edwards lays down as the law
of volition universally, viz : that M the volition is
as the greatest apparent good :" understanding by
the term "good," as he does, simply, that which
strikes us M agreeably," is indeed a general rule,
according to which the volitions of characters
deeply depraved may be calculated. This law
represents the individual as governed wholly by
his passions, and this marks the worst form of
character. It is a law which cannot extend to
him who is struggling under the light of his rea-
25*

2'.H KXA.MINA.TION OF ARGVMT.NT- AGAINST

son against passion, and consequently the proba-
bilities in this last case must be calculated in a
different way. But in relation to the former it is
a sufficient rule.

Probability, as well as certainty, respects only
the kind and degree of our knowledge of any
events, and not the causes by which those events
are produced : whether these causes be necessary
or contingent is another question.

One great error in reasoning respecting the
character of causes, in connexion with the calcu-
lation of probabilities, is the assumption that uni-
formity is the characteristic of necessary causes
only. The reasoning maybe stated in the follow-
ing syllogism :

In order to calculate either with certainty or
probability any events we must suppose a uniform
law of causation ; but uniformity can exist only
where there is a necessity of causation ; hence,
our calculations suppose a necessity of causa-
tion.

This is another instance of applying to the will
principles which were first obtained from the ob-
servation of physical causes, and which really be-
long to physical causes only. With respect to
physical causes, it is true that uniformity appears
to be a characteristic of necessary causes, simply

A CONTINGENT WILL. 295

because physical causes are relatively necessary
causes: — but with respect to the will, it is not
true that uniformity appears to be a characteristic
of necessary cause, because the will is not a ne-
cecessary cause. That uniformity therefore, as
in the case of physical causes, seems to become a
characteristic of necessary cause, does not arise
from the nature of the idea of cause, but from the
nature of the particular subject, viz., physical
cause. Uniformity in logical strictness, does not
belong to cause at all, but to law or rule. Cause
is simply efficiency or power : law or rule defines
the direction, aims, and modes of power : cause
explains the mere existence of phenomena: law
explains their relations and characteristics : law
is the thought and design of the reason. Now a
cause may be so conditioned as to be incapable
of acting except in obedience to law, and this is
the case of all physical causes which act accord-
ing to the law or design of infinite wisdom, and
thus the uniformity which we are accustomed to
attribute to these causes is not their own, but be-
longs to the law under which they necessarily act.
But will is a cause which is not so conditioned as
to be incapable of acting except in obedience to
law ; it can oppose itself to, and violate law. but
still it is a cause in connexion with law, the law found

206 EXAMINATION Of AROl KBMTf AGAINST

in the reason and sensitivity, which law of course
has the characteristic of uniformity. The law of
the reason and pure sensitivity is uniform — it is
the law of right The law of a totally corrupted
sensitivity is likewise a uniform law ; it is the law
of passion ; a law to do whatever is most pleasing
to the sensitivity; and every individual, whatever
may be the degree of his corruption, forms for
himself certain rules of conduct, and as the very
idea of rule embraces uniformity, we expect in
every individual more or less uniformity of con-
duct. Uniformity of physical causation, is nothing
but the design of the supreme reason developed
in phenomena of nature. Uniformity of volitions
is nothing but the design of reason and pure sensi-
tivity, or of corrupted passion developed in human
conduct. The uniformity thus not being the cha-
racteristic of cause as such, cannot be the charac-
teristic of necessary cause. The uniformity of
causation, therefore, argues nothing respecting the
nature of the cause ; it may be a necessary cause
or it may not. There is no difficulty at all in con-
ceiving of uniformity in a free contingent will,
because this will is related to uniform rules, which
in the unity of the being we expect to be obeyed
but which we also know do not necessitate obe-
dience. In physical causes we have the uniform-

A CONTINGENT WILL. 297

ity of necessitated causes. In will we have the
uniformity of a free intelligent cause. We can
conceive of perfect freedom and yet of perfect
order, because the free will can submit itself to
the light of the reason. Indeed, all the order and
harmony of creation, although springing from the
idea of the reason, has been constituted by the
power of the infinite free will. It is an order
and harmony not necessitated but chosen by a
power determining itself. It is altogether an as-
sumption incapable of being supported that free-
dom is identified with disorder.

Of the words, Foreknowledge and Prescience.

These wrords are metaphorical : fore and pre
do not qualify knowledge and science in relation
to the mind which has the knowledge or science ;
but the time in which the knowledge takes place
in relation to the time in which the object of
knowledge is found. The metaphor consists in
giving the attribute of the time of knowledge, con-
sidered relatively to the time of the object of
knowledge, to the act of knowledge itself. Ban-
ishing metaphor for the sake of attaining greater
perspicuity, let us say,

First: All acts of knowing are present acts of

298 EXAMINATION OF ARGUMENTS AGAINST

knowing, — there is no fore knowledge and no
after knowledge.

Secondly: The objects of knowledge may be
in no relation to time and space whatever, e. g.
pure abstract and necessary truth, as 2 x 2 = 4 ;
and the being of God. Or the objects of know-
ledge may be in relations of time and space, e. g.
all physical phenomena.

Now these relations of time and space are va-
rious ; — the object of knowledge may be in time
past, or time present, or time future; and it may
be in a place near, or in a place distant. And the
faculty of knowledge may be of a capacity to
know the object in all these relations under cer-
tain limitations, or under no limitations. The
faculty of knowledge as knowing objects in all re-
lations of time and space, under certain limitations,
is the faculty as given in man. We know objects
in time present, and past, and future; and we
know objects both near and distant ; but then our
knowledge does not extend to all events in any
of these relations, or in any of these relations to
their utmost limit.

The faculty of knowledge as knowing objects in
all relations of time and space, under no limita-
tions, is the faculty under its divine and infinite
form. Under this form it comprehends the present

A CONTINGENT WILL. 290

perfectly, and the past and the future no less
than the present — and it reaches through all
space. God's knowledge is an eternal now —
an omnipresent here ; that is, all that is possible
and actual in eternity and space, is now perfectly
known to him. Indeed God's knowledge ought not
to be spoken of in relation to time and space; it
is infinite and absolute knowledge, from eternity
to eternity the same ; it is unchangeable, because
it is perfect; it can neither be increased nor di-
minished.

We have shown before that the perfection of
the knowledge does not settle the mode of causa-
tion : that which comes to pass by necessity, and
that which comes to pass contingently, are alike
known to God.

CONCLUSION.

I here finish my review of Edwards's System,
and his arguments against the opposite system. I
hope I have not thought or written in vain. The
review I have aimed to conduct fairly and hon-
ourably, and in supreme reverence of truth. As
to style, I have laboured only for perspicuity, and
where a homely expression has best answered
this end, I have not hesitated to adopt it- The

300 < «>\< LU8ION.

nice graces of rhetoric, as popularly understood,
cannot be attended to in severe reasoning. To
amble on a flowery surface with fancy, when we
aiv mining in the depths of reason, is manifestly
impossible.

The great man with whose work I have been
engaged, I honour and admire for his intellec-
tual might, and love and venerate for a purity
and elevation of spirit, which places him among
the most sainted names of the Christian church.
But have I done wrong not to be seduced by his
genius, nor won and commanded by his piety to
the belief of his philosophy? I have not done
wrong if that be a false philosophy. When he leads
me to the cross, and speaks tome of salvation, I hear
in mute attention — and one of the old preachers
of the martyr age seems to have re-appeared. But
when we take a walk in the academian grove, I
view him in a different character, and here his
voice does not sound to me so sweet as Plato's.

The first part of my undertaking is accomplish-
ed. When I again trouble the public with my lu-
cubrations, I shall appear not as a reviewer, but in
an original work, which in its turn must become
the subject of philosophical criticism.

■»' /.

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