To refer the motive to the divine determination makes volition necessary to the man, and throws the difficulty in question, if it is to be considered 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 reply be, because it is most reasonable, then we are only moving in a circle; but if the agreeable 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 endless series—and thus introduce the two-fold error of an endless series, and an absolute necessity.
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, or 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 nature of the particular desire which it obeys:—it is generous, benevolent, kind, &c.—or it is malicious, envious, unkind, vicious, &c. What moves the will to go in the direction of the reason? Nothing moves it; it is a causeper se; it goes in that direction because it has power to go in that direction. What moves the will to go in the direction of the sensitivity? Nothing moves it; it is a causeper se; it goes in that direction because it has power to go in that direction.
There are in the intelligence or reason, as united 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 the agreeable and the disagreeable in reference to various objects. The will as the power which by itsnisusproduces changes or phenomena, is conscious of ability to go in either of these directions, or in opposition to both. Now when it makes itsnisusor volition in reference to the true, the just, the good; should we attempt to explain thisnisusby saying that the true, the just, the good, affect the sensitivity agreeably, this would only amount to saying that thenisusis made towards the true, not as the true, but only as the agreeable; and then we would introduce the law that thenisusis always made in the direction of the agreeable. But then again we might seek to explain why thenisusis always made in the direction of the agreeable. Is it of an antecedent necessity? Then we have an absolute and universal necessity. Is it because to go in the direction of the agreeable seems most rational? Then it follows that thenisusis made towards the agreeable not as the agreeable, but only as the rational; and then we would introduce the law that thenisusis always made in the direction of the rational. But then again we might seek to explain why thisnisusis always made in the direction of the rational. Is it of an antecedent necessity? Then here likewise we have an absolute and universal necessity. Is it because to go in the direction of the rational seems most agreeable? Then we are winding back in a circle to our first position.
How shall we escape from these difficulties? Shall we 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, volitions are necessary, and we are plunged headlong 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 supposed 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 represent 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 antecedent necessity comprehending them, then we go up to the antecedent cause in which this necessity resides, and question it in like manner.
But one thing remains, and that is to consider the will as primary cause, contingent in opposition to being necessitated—a cause having in itself the power of making these various volitions ornisus, and neither asking nor allowing of any explanation 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 termindifferencycomes 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 agreeableness or disagreeableness of objects.
It is also a power distinct from the reason; it is not conviction or belief—it is a power indifferent 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 everynisusin his will is really creative or modifying, according to its self-directed aim. In man it is constituted, dependent, limited, and accountable.
Now in direct connexion with power, we have the conception of law or rule, or what poweroughtto do. This law or rule is revealed in the 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 objects 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 efficiency, or capacity of giving real manifestations.
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 perceptions 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 sensitivity. 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.
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 efficiency, or creative and modifying power in itself—self-moved, self-directed. But then without reason and sensitivity, the will would be without objects, without designs, without rules,—a solitary power, conscious of ability to do, but not knowing 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. Reasonmustperceive,mustbelieve. Sensitivitymustfeel 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 ownnisus, and is free.
It follows from this, that the will can act irrespective of both reason and sensitivity, if an object 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, however, frequently called up, and much disputed, which deserves some attention, and which it appears 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 sensitivity, or not? Those who hold that the will is necessarily determined, must make out some connexion between the act of selection, and the reason and sensitivity. It is affirmed that there is a general motive which determines the whole process, viz: the aim or desire to illustrate, if possible, 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 motive 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 whichever square is selected, and there is no motive that can be drawn either from the reason or the sensitivity for taking one square in preference to the other: under the absence of all such motives, and affording each time the same attempt at illustration, I can vary the selection sixty-four times: in making this selection, therefore, it appears to me, there is an entire indifferency as to which particular square is selected;—there is no command of the reason directing to one square rather than another;—there is no affection of the sensitivity towards one square rather 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 indifferency of will: “Choice may be immediatelyaftera 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. Volition and liberty are so far from agreeing together, and being essential one to another, that they are contrary one to another, and one excludes and destroys the other, as much as motion and rest, light and darkness, or life and death.” (p. 73.)
Edwards reasons according to his own psychology: If the will and the sensitivity are one, the will cannot well be conceived of as in a state of indifference, 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 hereafter, the will is not one with the sensitivity, but is clearly distinguishable from it:—the sensitivity is the capacity of feeling; the will is the causality of the soul:—a movement of the sensitivity, under the quality of indifference, is self-contradictory; and a movement of the will being a merenisusof cause, under the quality of any sense and feeling whatever, would be self-contradictory likewise; it would be confounding that which we had already distinguished. From Edwards’s very definition of will it cannot be indifferent; from our very definition of will it cannot be otherwise than indifferent. When it determines exclusively of both reason and sensitivity, it of course must retain, in the action, the indifference which it possessed before the action; but this is no less true when it determines in the direction either 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 thenisusof power. When the determination is in the direction of the sensitivity, there is a play of emotions and passions, but the will again knows only thenisusof 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 connexion 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 likewise 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 sensitivity, 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 contingent will, unless we plunge into absolute necessity; and that to make the sensitivity govern the will, is only transferring to the sensitivity the difficulties 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 another, 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 reason, to move within the delights of the sensitivity; and we know that we are actingunreasonablyandsenselesslywhen we act otherwise; but yetunreasonablyandsenselesslydo 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 become sensitivity—will is still simply cause, and its act thenisusof power: thought, and conviction, and design, hold their place in the reason alone: emotion and passion their place in the sensitivity alone.
ARGUMENT
FROM
THE DIVINE PRESCIENCE.
Edwards’s argument against a contingent, self-determining will, drawn from the divine prescience, remains to be considered.
The argument is introduced as follows: “That the acts of the wills of moral agents are not contingent events, in such a sense as to be without all necessity, appears by God’s certain foreknowledge 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 foresee them; or, to express it still more generally, foreknowledge extends to all events, and foreknowledge proves the necessary existence of everything to which it extends. It follows from this, that all events exist with an absolute necessity, 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 decidedly, the doctrine of absolute and universal necessity. We have already, in part II. of this treatise, deduced the consequences of this doctrine. 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.) “which in my opinion has not yet been done, that the prescience of the volitions of moral agents is incompatible with the free agency of man, the logical inference would be,notin favour of the scheme of necessity, but that there are some events, the foreknowledge of which implies 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 omnipotence of God, in the same proportion in which it 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 moral 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 necessary, “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 necessary;” but events infallibly foreknown, have an indissoluble connexion with the foreknowledge. Hence, the volitions infallibly foreknown by God, have an indissoluble connexion with his foreknowledge, and are therefore necessary.
The force of this reasoning turns upon the connexion between foreknowledge and the events foreknown. This connexion is affirmed to be “indissoluble;” that is, the foreknowledge is certainly connected with the event. But this only amounts to the certainty of divine foreknowledge, and proves nothing as to the nature of the existence foreknown. We may certainly know a past or present event, but our knowledge of its existence defines nothing as to the manner in which 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 contingent 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 knowledge; but the object known may stand in various 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 the existence of the object of knowledge. Edwards 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 certainty of the merefactof existence, and the necessity by which anything comes to exist. Foreknowledge, 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 knowledge of the event were thecauseof the event, or if itgenericallycomprehended it in its own existence, then, upon strict logical principles, the necessity affirmed of the knowledge would be affirmed of the event likewise.
That God foreknows all volitions is granted; that as he foreknows them, they will be, is also granted; his foreknowledge of them is the positive 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 future. Hence God’s foreseeing how the wills acting 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 prescience,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 student of logic in the detection of fallacies: for example, a man in a given place, mustnecessarilyeither 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 determination. His necessary condition as a body, is entirely distinct from the question respecting the necessity or contingency of his volitions. And so also in respect of the divine foreknowledge: all human volitions as events occurring in time, are subject to the necessary condition of being foreknown 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 argument is, “No future event can be certainly foreknown, 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 withoutevidence.” 2. A contingent future event is without evidence. 3. Therefore, a contingent future event is not a possible object of knowledge. I dispute both premises: That which is known byevidenceorproofismediateknowledge,—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 knownintuitivelyis known without proof, and this isimmediateknowledge. In this way all axioms or first truths and all facts of the senses are known. Indeed evidence itself implies immediate knowledge, for the evidence by which anything is known is itself immediate knowledge. To a Being, therefore, whose knowledge fills duration, future and past events may be as immediately known as present 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 throughmediaof 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 notself-evident; implying by that the evidence arising from “the necessity of its nature,” as for example, 2 x 2 = 4. What is self-evident, as we have already shown, does not require any evidence or proof, but is known immediately; and a future contingent event may be self-evident as a fact lying before the divine mind, reaching into futurity, although it cannot be self-evident from “the necessity of its nature.”
But Edwards affirms, that “neither is there anyproofor evidence inanything 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 which the future existence of thecontingentevent is connected. For such a connexion destroys its contingency and supposes necessity.” (p. 116.) He illustrates his meaning by the following example: “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 nothing into being, and takes on itself a particular nature and form—all inabsolute contingence,—without 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 evidence 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 inany thing else;forevidencein something else; isconnexionwith something else; but such connexion is contrary to the supposition.” (p. 116.)
The amount of this reasoning is this: That inasmuch as a contingent event exists “without 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 with anything foregoing,”—there is really nothing 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 nothing now existent with which the future existence of the contingent event is connected,” then this reasoning must be allowed to be conclusive. But I do not accede to the definition: Contingence I repeat again, is not opposed to cause but to necessity. The world may have sprung into being byabsolute contingencemore than five thousand years ago, and yet have sprung into being at the command of God himself, and its existence have been foreseen by him from all eternity. The contingence 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 creativenibus,—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 existence, the individual will being always taken as the cause and sufficient ground of the individual volitions. God has therefore provided for the possible 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 conceive ofmediaby which all the particular volitions 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 volitions. He knows all the variety and the full extent of the possible, and amid the possible he foresees the actual; and he foresees not only that class of the actual which, as decreed and determined 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 the sun and moon, and even the flight of the comets, because they are governed by necessary laws; but the volitions of the human will form the subject of onlyprobablecalculations.
But if human volitions, as contingent, form the subject of probable calculations, there must be in opposition to Edwards something “that is evident” and “now existent, with which the future existence of thecontingentevent is connected.”
There are three kinds of certainty.First, absolute 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 between premises and conclusion, is likewise absolute.
Secondly. Physical certainty. This is the certainty which lies in the connexion between physical causes and their phenomena: e. g. gravitation, heat, chemical affinities in general, mechanical forces.
The reason conceives of these causes as inherently active and uniform; and hence, wherever a physical cause exists, we expect its proper phenomena.
Now we do not call the operation of these causesabsolutelycertain, because they depend ultimately 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 recognise the presence of that will which ordained them. Such change or suspension we call amiracle; that is, a surprise,—a wonder, because it is unlooked for.
When, therefore, we affirm any thing to be physically certain, we mean that it is certain in the immutability of a cause acting in time and space, and under a necessity relatively to the divine will; but still notabsolutelycertain, 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 intelligent cause, or a cause in unity with intelligence. It is also, in the fullest sense, a causeper se; that is, it contains within itself proper efficiency, and determines its own direction. Bymotiveswe 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 calledethics, orthe rules.
These rules the will is not compelled or necessitated 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 infinitely pure, and his will freely determines to do right; it is not compelled or necessitated, for then his infinite meritoriousness would cease. Moral certainty isnot absolute, because will being a power to do or not to do, there is always a possibility, although there may be no probability, nay an infinite 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 apprehension of a dereliction. With respect to such men as Joseph, Daniel, Paul, Howard, and Washington, we can calculate with a very high and satisfactory moral certainty, of the manner in which they will act in any given circumstances involving the influence of motives. We know they will obey truth, justice, and mercy,—that is, thefirstclass of motives; and thesecondonly 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 variously 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 upon to reason from the connexion of motives with the will, it is evident we must determine the character of the individual as accurately as possible, in order to know the probableresultantof the opposite 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 degradation, 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 field of probability. What is commonly 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 ungracefulness of repetition is of little moment, when this repetition serves our great end. I shall be pardoned, therefore, in calling the attention of the reader to a point above suggested, 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 inducements 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 conclude are very rare. In calculating, then, future acts of will, we may, like the mathematicians, drop infinitesimal differences, and assume that all acts of the will are in the direction of reason or sensitivity, or of both in their harmony. Although the will is conscious of power to do, out of the direction of both reason and sensitivity, still, in the triunity in which it exists, it submits itself to the general interests of the being, and consults the authority of conscience, or the enjoyments of passion. 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 conclude that he has formed for himself a fixed purpose of doing right. He has exhibited, too, on many occasions, noble, generous, and pure feelings; 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 exhibited, too, on many occasions, low, selfish, and impure 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 which, in any given circumstances, we may foresee and predict volitions. There is something “that is evident and now existent with which the future existence of the contingent event is connected.” On the one hand these predictions exert 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 order 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 atmoralcertainty, 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 circumstances, based on his known integrity, and the calculations which we make respecting another, based on his known dishonesty, may alike disappoint us, through the unexpected, though possible 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 determiner. It is indeed true that we reason here with a high degree of probability, with a probability sufficient to regulate wisely and harmoniously the affairs of society; but we cannot reason respecting human conduct, as we reason respecting the phenomena of the physical world, because it is possible for the human will to disappoint calculations 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 being generally probable, all probable evidence is called moral.
The will differs from physical causes in being a causeper se, but although a causeper se, it has laws to direct its volitions. It may indeed violate these laws and become a most arbitrary and inconstant law unto itself; but this violation of law and this arbitrary determination do not arise from it necessarily as a causeper se, 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 determined 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 statements, we remark;—
First: The connexion on which we base predictions 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 righteousness, 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 self-subjection of will to their rules and inducements;—this constitutes meritoriousness,—the opposite conduct constitutes ill desert.
Fifthly: Our calculations must proceed according to the degree and fixedness of this self-subjection to reason and right feeling; or where this does not exist, according to the degree and fixedness 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 attended withabsolutecertainty, because the will being contingent, has the power of disappointing calculations made upon the longest observed uniformity.
Eighthly: Our expectations respecting the determinations of Deity are attended with the highest moral certainty. We saymoralcertainty, because 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 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 volitions need not be supposed to necessitate them, any more than human foresight, inasmuch as foreseeing 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 throughmedia,—the reach and accuracy of his calculations must be in the proportion of his intelligence, and how far short of a certain and perfect knowledge of all future contingent volitions can infinite intelligence be supposed to fall by such calculations?
Tenthly: But we may not suppose that the infinite mind is compelled to resort to deduction, or to employmediafor arriving at any particular knowledge. In the attribute of prescience, he is really present to all the possible and actual of the future.
III. The third and last point of Edwards’s argument is as follows: “To suppose the future volitions 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 conjecture, 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 another thing he knows.” (page 117.)
The substance of this reasoning is this. That inasmuch as a contingent future event isuncertainfrom its very nature and definition, it cannot be called an object ofcertainknowledge, 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 contingent uncertain truth.”
We have here again an error arising from not making a proper distinction, which I have already pointed out,—the distinction between the certainty 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 contingently; that is, by a power which in giving it existence, is under no law of necessity, and at the moment of causation, is conscious of ability to withhold the causativenibus. 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 necessity 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 produced volitions—hence they may produce volitions in the future. They have produced volitions in obedience to laws of reason and sensitivity—hence they may do so in the future. They have done this according to a uniformity self-imposed, 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 determination andnibus, and therefore necessarily in its relation to himself as cause, but also that which comes to pass by thenibusof constituted wills, contingent and free, as powers to do or not to do. There is no opposition, as Edwards supposes, between the infallible divine foreknowledge, and the contingency of the event;—the divine foreknowledge is infallible from its own inherent perfection; 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 the corollary which Edwards immediately deduces from his third position. “From what has been observed,” he remarks, “it is evident, that the absolutedecreesof 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 determination of divine will, but a form of the divine 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 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 infallible knowledge; but if they are certain in order to be foreknown, then they must be necessary.
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 allows of no basis upon which they can be calculated 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 certainty from the absolute and unvarying dominion of necessity, then this reasoning is truly and legitimately 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, or are certain according to the known character of the person who is the subject of these calculations.
Of God we do not affirm 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 infallibility and certainty—and the events to him are infallible and certain. But still they are not necessary, 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 important 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 conclusions respecting the divine prescience. When God pre-determines 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 merely a form of his infinite intelligence, exerting no causative, and consequently no necessitating 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, because 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 foreseen the volitions which I am now exercising; it is plain that this foresight does not destroy the contingency of the volitions, nor does the contingency render the foresight absurd. The supposition is both rational and possible.
It is not necessary for us to consider the remaining corollaries of Edwards, as the application of the above reasoning to them will be obvious.
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 distinction between certainty and necessity. Necessity relates to truths and events considered in themselves. Certainty relates to our apprehension or conviction of them. Hence necessity is not certainty itself, but a ground of certainty.Absolute certaintyrelates 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 suppositions, and are irrespective of will. The being of God, and time, and space, are necessary with an absolute necessity.
Relative necessityrelates 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 absolutely necessary.
All phenomena and events are necessary with only a relative necessity; for in depending upon 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 contingent—and therefore their non-existence is supposable. But they are necessary relatively to will. The divine will, which gave birth to creation, is infinite; when therefore thenibusof 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 thenibusof 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 itsnibus, effects necessarily follow, according to the connexion established by the will of Deity, between thenibusof created will and surrounding objects. Where anibusof 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 thenibusof 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 er 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 absolute and relative. We have a certain knowledge or conviction of that which we perceive to be necessary in its own nature, or of which a negative is not supposable; and this, as based upon anabsolute necessity, may be called an absolute certainty.
The established connexion between causes and effects, is another ground of certainty. Causes are of two kinds; first causes, or causesper se, 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 physical 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 knowledge or conviction that an event will take place, 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 possible 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 circulation of the blood. I believe also that if I throw this paper into the fire, it will burn; but it is possible 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 continue to obey volition, and that paper will burn in the fire. This certainly is not anabsolute certainty, but aconditionalcertainty: 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 aphysicalcertainty, because the events contemplated include besides the phenomena of consciousness, which are not so commonly noticed, the events or phenomena of the physical world, or nature.
But we must next look at will itself in relation 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 causeper se, 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 sensitivity and the reason. Reason revealswhat ought to be done, on the basis of necessary and unchangeable 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 inducement of action from the reason and the sensitivity, 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, does submit itself. In the harmony and perfection of our being, the reason and the sensitivity perfectly accord. In obeying the one or the other, the will obeys both. With regard to perfect beings, therefore, we can calculate with certainty as to their volitions under any given circumstances. Whatever is commanded by reason, whatever appears attractive to the pure sensitivity, 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 itphysicalcertainty, 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 aconditionalcertainty; because the will, as a powerper 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 sensitivity, 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 reason and the sensitivity, and their unity with the will; and as the commands of reason in relation to conduct have received the name ofmoral7laws, simply because they have this relation,—and as the sensitivity, when harmonizing with the reason, is thence called morally pure, because attracting to the same conduct which the reason commands,—this certainty may fitly be calledmoral certainty. The name, however, does not markdegree. Does this certainty possess degrees? It does. With respect to the volitions of God, we have the highest degree of moral certainty,—an infinite moral certainty. He, indeed, in his infinite will, has the power of producing any volitions whatever; but from his infinite excellency, consisting in the harmony of infinite 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 determination 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 moral certainty with necessity, for the distinction is plain. If God’s will were affirmed to be necessarily determined in the direction of truth, righteousness, and love, it would be an affirmation respecting 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 determination, but in absolute necessity. But if it be affirmed that God’s will, willcertainlygo in the direction of truth, righteousness, and love, the affirmation respects ourknowledgeandconvictionof 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 sufficient ground. But will any man assume that necessity is theonlyground of certain knowledge and conviction? If necessity be universal, embracing 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 supposable. But if, at least for the sake of the argument, it be granted that there may be other grounds of knowledge than necessity, then I would ask whether the infinite excellence of the divine reason and sensitivity, in their perfect harmony, does afford to us a ground for the most certain and satisfactory 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 necessitated by his reason and his affections? Can we not enjoy this confidence, while we allow him absolute freedom of choice? Can we not believe that the Judge of all the Earth will do right, although 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 forever 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 creature’s faith appear in this,—that while God is known to be so mighty and so absolute, he is confided 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 their agency unfolding and revealing the beauty of creation, seems as truly excellent and worthy of gratitude,—and the creature, exercising gratitude 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 minister to its life and properties.
The moral certainty attending the volitions of created perfect beings is the same in kind with that attending the volitions of the Deity. It is a certainty 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 volitions 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 thedegreeof 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 obeying truth and justice; and our sense of his meritoriousness does not arise from the impossibility of his doing wrong, but from his known determination 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 necessity of volitions.
Moral certainty, then, is predicable only of moral perfection, and predicable in degrees according 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 volitions must vary accordingly. Here moral certainty exists no longer, because volitions are now to be calculated in connexion with opposing principles: calculations now attain only to the probable, and in different degrees.
Bythe probable, we mean that which has not attained to certainty, but which nevertheless has grounds on which it claims to be believed. We call itprobableorproveable, because it both has proof and is still under conditions of proof, that is, admits of still farther proof. That which is certain, 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 certain 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 totally 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 existent, this knowledge will depend upon our knowledge of the present relative state of his reason and sensitivity; but a perfect knowledge of this is in no case supposable,—so that, although our actual 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 volitions of an imperfect being can only amount to probable knowledge.
The direction of the probabilities will be determined by the preponderance of the good or the bad in the mixed being supposed. If the sensitivity 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 enjoyments of passion are preferred to the duties enjoined by the conscience. But the state of the reason itself must be considered. If the reason be in a highly developed state, and the convictions 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 prejudices of custom and superstition. The difference 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 reason, 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 determined 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 “the volition is as the greatest apparent good:” understanding by the term “good,” as he does, simply, that which strikes us “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 reason against passion, and consequently the probabilities 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 calculation of probabilities, is the assumption that uniformity is the characteristic of necessary causes only. The reasoning may be stated in the following 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 causation.
This is another instance of applying to the will principles which were first obtained from the observation of physical causes, and which really belong to physical causes only. With respect to physical causes,it is truethat uniformity appears to be a characteristic of necessary causes, simply because physical causes are relatively necessary causes:—but with respect to the will,it is not truethat uniformity appears to be a characteristic of necessary cause, because the will is not a necessary 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.,physicalcause. 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 according 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 belongs 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 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 conduct. 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 sensitivity, or of corrupted passion developed in human conduct. The uniformity thus not being the characteristic of cause as such, cannot be the characteristic 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 conceiving 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 obedience. In physical causes we have the uniformity 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 theideaof 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 assumption incapable of being supported that freedom is identified with disorder.