III.

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

Edwards’sfirst 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 itself, 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 under its command.” But if the will determines its choice by its choice, then of course we have an infinite series of choices, or we have a first choice which is not determined by a choice,—“which brings us directly to a contradiction; for it supposes 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 attempt 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 effects 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 volitions, must itself be a volition. This assumption Edwards does not even attempt to sustain, but takes for granted that it is of unquestionable validity. 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 interminable series.

Before directly meeting the assumption, I remark, that if it be valid, it is fatal to all causality. Will is simply cause; volition is effect. I 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 volitions, 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, according to Edwards’s reasoning, must itself be an effect or phenomenon. Then this effect comes between the cause, and what was at first considered the immediate effect but the effect in question must likewise be caused by a causative act; and this causative act, again, being an effect, must have another causative act before it; and so on,ad infinitum. We have here then an infinite series 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 reasoning, 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 causative acts in question, must cause these causative acts in the other cause by a causative act of its own:—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 therefore 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 impossible, according to the reasoning of Edwards. As, therefore, there cannot be a cause causing its own 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, effect. But the will does not cause its own volition; 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 previous act, according to the principle of this reasoning; 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 volition is an effect altogether peculiar. It implies selection or determination in one direction rather than in another, and therefore that in inquiring 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 direction rather than in another. “The question is not so much, how a spirit endowed with activity comes toact, as why it exertssuchan act, and not another; or why it acts with a particular determination? 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. 58.)

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 volition, and the cause which really gives it a being, must necessarily give it character, and particular direction and determination.

Selection is the attribute of the cause, and answers 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 necessarily be one object selected rather than another. Thus, if fire be thrown among various substances, it selects the combustibles, and produces phenomena accordingly. It selects and gives particular determination. We cannot conceive of cause without selection, nor of effect without a particular determination. But in what lies the selection? In the nature of the cause in correlation with certain 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 motive, 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 correlation. 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 particular determination or direction of the volition, in consequence of this, is like that which appears in every other effect. In the case of will, whatever effect is produced, is produced of necessity, by a pre-constitution and disposition of will and objects, just as in the case of any other cause.

From 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 opposition to reason and conscience; and this sense of the most agreeable is choice or volition. It belongs to the opposite system to make this distinction in all its clearness and force—where the efficient will is distinguished, both from the persuasions and allurements of passion and desire, and from the laws of reason and conscience.

Thus far my argument against Edwards’s assumption,—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 consequences. 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 causing its own volitions; and consequently, particularly 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. Edwards 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, involving the last, he does not prove, and I deny that it is unquestionable.

In the first place, it cannot legitimately be taken 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 sequents 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 external 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 modification of itself? We learn from experience, that volitions have sequents in external nature, or in parts of our being, external to will; but this experience teaches us nothing respecting the production of volitions. The acts of the will are volitions, 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 phenomena; I know merely the facts. The connexion between volition and its sequents, is just as wonderful 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 absurdity.

It is not necessary for us to explain how a cause acts. If the will produce effects in external nature by its acts, it is impossible to connect with this as a sequence, established either by experience 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 unsupported, 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 acting? To suppose it the cause of its own acts, involves all the absurdities which Edwards attributes to self-determination. But,In the second place,—let us look at the connexion of cause and phenomena a little more particularly. What is cause? It is that which is the ground of the possible, and actual existence of phenomena. How is cause known? By the phenomena. 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 anisus, an effort, or energy. Is thisnisusitself a phenomenon? It is when it is observed. Is it always observed? It is not. Thenisusof gravitation we do not observe; we observe merely the facts of gravitation. Thenisusof heat to consume we do not observe; we observe merely the facts of combustion. Where then do we observe thisnisus?Only in will. Really, volition is thenisusor effort 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 examine his consciousness in relation to this point. When I wish to do anything I make an effort—anisusto do it; I make an effort to raise my arm, and I raise it. This effort is simply the volition. 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 recognise only my will, or really only myself. This effort—thisnisus—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. Everynisus, or effort, or volition, which we may make, is in our consciousness: causes, which are not self-conscious, of course do not reveal thisnisusto themselves, and they cannot 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 thenisus, but the sequents of thenisus. Thus in men we do not observe the volition ornisusin their wills, but the phenomena which form the sequents of thenisus. And in physical causes, we do not observe thenisusof these causes, but only the phenomena which form the sequents of thisnisus. But when each one comes to himself, it is all different. He penetrates himself—knows himself. He is himself the cause—he, himself, makes thenisus, and is conscious of it; and thisnisusto him becomes an effect—a phenomenon, the first phenomenon by which he reveals himself, but a phenomenon by which he reveals himself only to himself. It is by the sequents of thisnisus,—the effects produced in the external visible world, that he reveals himself to others.

Sometimes thenisusor 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 danger but all in vain.

It is possible for me to make an effort to remove a mountain: I may place my hand against its side, and tug, and strive: thenisusor volition 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, thisnisusin the bosom of the cause itself, and in man, as a cause, the most original movement is thisnisuslikewise, which in him we call volition. To deny such anisuswould be to deny the activity, efficiency, and energy of cause. Thisnisus, by its very conception and definition, admits of no antecedent, phenomenon, or movement: it is in the substance of the cause; its first going forth to effects. A first movement ornisusof 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 determine 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 series 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, involves the absurdity of willing volitions or choosing choices; but at the same time 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 natural causes act only under the condition of meeting with objects so constituted as to be susceptible 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, andthe state and circumstancesof the mind that views.” (p. 22.) Now “thestateandcircumstancesof the mind that views, and themannerof its view,” is simply the mind acting from its inherent nature and under its proper conditions, and is a representation which answers to every natural cause with which we are acquainted: the state of the mind, therefore, 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 nature and state of heat may be taken as the cause of combustion: but by “the state, of mind,” Edwards 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 affections 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, implying of course its inherent nature or constitution, means nothing more than its character and qualities considered as a cause,—therefore he virtually and really makes will the cause of its own volitions, as much as any natural cause is the cause of its invariable sequents.

Edwards, in contemplating and urging the absurdity 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 anisusto produce phenomena, then wherein is it a 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 constituted and fixed, that thenisusby which it determines itself to produce phenomena, shall take 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 of 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 circumstances, than those which they actually produce. When a burning coal is thrown into a 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, necessarily produce such and such phenomena? Must itsnisus, 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 originalnisusor its volition, follows certain necessary laws,—necessary in relation to itself. If we know the state of any particular will, and its correlation to every variety of object, we may know, with the utmost certainty, what its volition will be at a given time, and under given circumstances. 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 the sensitivity,—if we can distinguish volition from the strongest desire or the sense of the most agreeable,—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 Edwards’s argument against the conception of a will not necessarily determined. This he calls a contingent 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 under 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 connexion 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 our design and scope. But the wordcontingentis 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 iscontingentused in the same sense as chance and accident, 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 opposes 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 without 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 representing the determination of the will as contingent, we intended to represent a class of phenomena as existing without “any previous ground or reason with which their existence has a fixed and certain connexion,”—as existing without any cause whatever, and therefore as existing by chance, or as really self-existent, and therefore not demanding any previous ground for their existence,—it seems to me that no elaborate argument 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 demonstration, 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 afree 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 necessary 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 contingency 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 necessity.

The argument must therefore turn upon these two points: First, is contingency a possible conception, 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 conception, 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 thesecondpoint will be, to determine whether the will be contingent or necessary.

The first point is the only one which I shall discuss in this place. The second properly belongs to the psychological investigations which are to follow. But I proceed to remark, 2. that Edwards, in his argument against a contingent will, really begs the question in dispute. In the first place, he represents the will as necessarily determined. This is brought out in a direct and positive argument contained in the first part of his treatise. Here necessity is made universal and absolute. Then, in the second place, when he comes particularly to discuss contingency, he assumes 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 whether there be any thing contingent, that is, any thing opposed to necessity, hebeginshis argument by affirming all cause to be necessary, and contingency as implying no cause. If all cause be necessary, and contingency imply no cause, there is no occasion for inquiry after contingency; for it is already settled that there can be no contingency. The very points we are after, as we have seen, are these two: whether contingency be possible; and whether there be any cause, for example, 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 contradictory and absurd.

Necessity and contingency are then two ideas opposed to each other. They at least cannot co-exist 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, embracing 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 possible 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 isnecessary.

The second does not take will into consideration at all, and applies to subjects where opposition of will is not supposable; for example, logical 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 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 metaphysical or philosophical. This second kind of necessity undoubtedly is absolute. It is impossible to conceive of these subjects differently from what they are. We cannot conceive of no space; no time; or that 2 x 2 = 5, and so of the rest.

Necessity under both points of view he distinguishes 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 necessity 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 relative necessity. When the greater force is greater 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 of God cannot be included, as there can be no greater force than a divine volition.

Metaphysical necessity, when particular, excludes 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 individual 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 2 x 2 = 4—that the centre of a circle is a point equally distant from every point in the circumference—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.

Now what is the simple idea of necessity contained in these two points of view, with their two-fold distinction?Necessity is that which is and which cannot possibly not be, or be otherwise than it is.

1. An event necessary by a relative particular necessity, is an event which is and cannot possibly 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 Edwards’s system, becomes absolute necessity. The infinite will is necessarily determined by a metaphysical general necessity. All events are necessarily determined by the infinite will. Hence, all events are necessarily determined by a metaphysical general necessity. Particular and relative necessity are merely the absolute and general necessity viewed in the particular individual and relation:—the terms characterize only the manner 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 reference to the infinite will which necessarily pre-determines 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 contingency, 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. Contingency then, as the opposite idea, must bethat 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, that every phenomenon supposes a cause, cannot be contingent, for they are seen to be real and true 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 causes, 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 having 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 conception; 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 purely as the effect of will, we call the first necessary; the second, contingent. The first we cannot conceive to be different from what it is. The 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 we 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 represented, 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 conception 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 wisdom. The conception, therefore, of the possibility of that which is, being different from what it is, must on this system be chimerical. But although the system would force us to this conclusion, the conception still reigns in our minds, and does notseemto us chimerical;—the deduction from the system strangely conflicts with our natural and spontaneous judgements. There are few men who would not be startled by the dogma that all things and all events, even the constantly occuring volitions of their minds, are absolutely necessary, as necessary as a metaphysical axiom or a mathematical truth,—necessary with a necessity which leaves no possibility of their being otherwise than they actually are. There are 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 necessity here represented, being merely a metaphysical 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 attempted distinction is—how completely the metaphysical necessity embraces the so called natural 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 to escape from this universal necessity? Do the abettors of this system admit that there is something 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 necessity 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 volition and its sequents is just as necessary as the connexion between volition and its motives. Explain,—why do you endeavour to evade the conclusion of this system when you come to volition? why do you claim liberty here? Doyoulikewise 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 application to will. They first establish the doctrine of necessity universally and absolutely, and then 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 free 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 under the idea opposed to necessity. But what is this idea opposed to necessity, and how does the will come under it? Edwards and his followers have not answered these questions—their attempt 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 being different from what it is, without implying any contradiction, according to this spontaneous judgement.

The distinction between right and wrong, I cannot conceive of as not existing, or as being altered 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 conceive of as not existing, or as existing under a different mode, as a volition to write words different from those which I am writing. That this idea of contingency is not chimerical, seems settled 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 either 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 government 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 connected with will, and all the creations and changes arising fromwill.

That the will actually does come under this idea of contingency, must be shown psychologically if shown at all. An investigation to this effect must be reserved therefore for another occasion. In this place, I shall simply inquire, how the will may be conceived as coming under the idea of contingency?

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 existence, and existence under its particular form, can alone contain the possibility of its not having existed at all, or of its having existed under a different 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 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 causes, 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 contingent and not necessitated. The contingency of the event, therefore, arises from the contingency of the cause. Now every cause must be a necessary or not necessary cause. A necessary cause is one which cannot be conceived of as having power to act differently from its actual developements—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 between a universal and absolute necessity, and the existence of contingent causes. If we take necessity to be universal and absolute, then we must take all the consequences, likewise, as deduced in part II. There is no possible escape from this. As then all causes must be either necessary or contingent, we bring will under the idea of contingency, by regarding it as a contingent cause—“a power to do, or not to do,”5—or a faculty of determining “to do, or not to do something which we conceive to be in our power.”6

We may here inquire wherein lies the necessity 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 inconceivable that water might not freeze at the freezing temperature. But is this necessity a necessityper se, or a determined necessity? It is a determined necessity—determined by the creative will. If the creative will be under the law of necessity, then of course every cause determined by will becomes an absolute necessity.

The only necessityper seis found in that infinite and necessary wisdom in which Edwards places the determining motives of the divine will. All intuitive truths and their logical deductions are necessaryper se. But the divine will is necessary with a determined necessity on Edwards’s system,—and so of all other wills and all other causes, dependent upon will—the divine will being 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 necessaryper se; 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 theirnisus, 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 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 itsnisusto do, are limited only by the extent of its intelligence. It may make an effort, or volition, ornisus, to do anything of which it can conceive—but the actual production of phenomena out of itself, must depend upon the instrumental and physical connexion which the divine will has established between it and the world, external to itself. Of all the volitions ornisuswithin its capacity, it is not necessitated to any one, but may make any one, at any time; and at the time it makes any onenisusor volition, it has the power of making any other.

It is plain, moreover, that will is efficient, essential, and first cause. Whatever other causes exist, are determined and fixed by will, and are therefore properly called secondary or instrumental 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 observe only their phenomena; but we know ourselves in the very firstnisusof causation.

To reason therefore from these secondary causes to ourselves, is indeed reversing the natural 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 contingency 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 consequences? 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 preceding 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 plausible, that I shall be pardoned for prolonging this 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 rather than in another. The will, it is urged, under the idea of contingency, is indifferent to any particular volition. How then can we explain the fact that it does pass out of this state of indifferency to a choice or volition?

In answer to this, I remark:—It has already been made clear, that selection and particular determination 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 particular determination are necessary by a necessity 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 selection 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 secondary dependent will, the selection and particular determination of will, is necessary with a necessity determined out of itself. But to a necessitated will, we have nothing to oppose except a will whose volitions are not determined by the correlation of its nature with certain objects—a will, indeed, which has not its nature correlated to any objects, 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 fixed by the infinite will. In order to escape an absolute and universal necessity, therefore, we must conceive of a will forming volitions particular and determinate, or in other words, making anisustowards particular objects, without any correlation of its nature with the objects. Is this conception a possible and rational conception? It is not a possible conception if will and the sensitivity, or the affections are identical—for the very definition of will then becomes that of a power in correlation with objects, and necessarily affected by them.

But now let us conceive of the will as simply and purely an activity or cause, and distinct from the sensitivity or affections—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 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 are but twokindsof causes. The physical, which are necessarily determined by the correlation of their nature with certain objects, and will, which is a pure activity not thus determined, and therefore not necessitated, but contingent.

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

Does the objector allege, as a palpable absurdity, 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 object. In the case of will, the particular determination 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 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 itsnisusof 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, considered 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 ornisus, to remove a mountain, but his arm fails to carry out thenisus. His volitions are produced freely of himself; they are unrestrained within the capacity of will given him, but he meets on every side those physical causes which are mightier than himself, and which, instrumental of the divine will, make the created will aware of its feebleness and dependence.

But although the will is an activity or cause thus contingent, arbitrary, free, and indifferent, it is an activity or cause united with sensitivity and reason; and forming the unity of the soul. Will, reason, and, the sensitivity or the affections, constitute mind, or spirit, or soul. Although the will is arbitrary and contingent, yet it does not follow that itmustact 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 absolute and universal necessity.

According to this scheme, we take the will as theexecutiveof the soul or thedoer. It is a doer having life and power in itself, not necessarily determined in any of its acts, but a power to do or not to do.Reasonwe take as thelawgiver. 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 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 characteristic of personality, or more strictly, as the personality 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 solicitations 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.

We may suppose again two conditions of the reason and sensitivity relatively to each other; a condition of agreement, and a condition of disagreement. If the affections incline to those objects 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 resistance, 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 identified 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 opposition to reason, or obey both in their harmonious union; and lastly, which may act in the indifference of all, that is, act without reference either 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 causeper se, a cause self-conscious and self-moving; it obeys the reason by its ownnisus. 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 resign all to an absolute necessity. Suppose, that when the will obeys the reason, we attempt to explain 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 attempt 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, and is no advance whatever. Why does the will obey the reason? because it is most agreeable: but why does the will obey because it is most agreeable? because to obey the most agreeable seems most reasonable.

Acts of the will may be conceived of as analogous 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-comprehendingfactof power. In God, will is infinite, primary cause, and untreated: in man, it is finite, primary cause, constituted by God’s creative act, but not necessitated, for if necessitated 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 comprehended in the chain of natural antecedents and sequents.

God’s will explains creation as an existent fact; man’s will explains all his volitions. When we proceed to inquire after the characteristics of creation, we bring in the idea of infinite wisdom and goodness. But when we inquirewhyGod’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 characteristics 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 inquirewhythe will now obeys reason, and now passion; 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 requires 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 consequences, relieves it of no one difficulty. He lays down, indeed, a uniform law of determination; but there is a last inquiry which he does not presume to answer. The determination of the will, or the volition, 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 volitions; 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 agreeable, respects only its relation to the will itself; the volition, intrinsically considered, is at one time right, at another wrong; at one time rational, at another foolish. The volition really varies, although, relatively to the will, it always puts on the characteristic of the most agreeable. The question therefore returns, how this simple capacity 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 thestateof the will or sensitivity to remain unchanged, and the different volitions to be effected by the different arrangements 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 thestateof 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 question 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 sensitivity chooses at one time, as most agreeable to itself, that which is right and rational, and at another 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 conditions, then also we must ask, why at one time the objects arrange themselves to make the right and 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 askwhydoes 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 volition which is itself only the sense of the most agreeable, 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 now goes in 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 reason; and now in the direction of passion—but why?—Why does the reasonnowappear most agreeable,—and now the indulgences of impure 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 opposed 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 and its objects; but then the question must arise in relation to this cause, why it determines the correlation 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 antecedent cause. Now let us suppose this last antecedent 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 answer could be given? Shall it be said that it seems most agreeable to him? But why does 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 reasonable? 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 say that he wills as he 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 motives, removes therefore no difficulty which is supposed to pertain to contingent self-determination.

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

Contingent self-determination represents the will as a cause making itsnisusor 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 other is all passion, and of 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 reason. 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 Edwards; 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 object. But why does the correlation make one object appear more agreeable than another; or make the same object at one time appear agreeable, at another time disagreeable? Now this 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 another time? For the will to determine itself toward 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 power 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 agreeable to obey the reasonable;—that is, the reasonable 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 because most agreeable, is merely to say that it awakens the sense of the most agreeable; that is, it is obeyed, because it is obeyed.


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