THE DOCTRINE OF THE WILL VIEWED IN CONNECTION WITH CERTAIN TRUTHS OF RELIGION.
The Relation of Psychology to Theology.—The very close connection between the philosophy of the will, and the science of theology, has already been remarked. We have discussed the questions which have come before us thus far, on purely psychological grounds, without reference to their theological bearing. It would be manifest injustice to the matter in hand, however, were we to overlook entirely the relation of our philosophy to those higher truths which pertain to the domain of theological science.
The whole question respecting the freedom of the human will, especially, assumes a new importance, when viewed in connection with the truths of natural and revealed religion.It ceases to be a speculative, and becomes an eminently practical question when thus viewed.
There are two points which require special attention, as regards that connection; the one,God's power over man, the other,man's power over himself.
§ I.—The Power which God Exerts over the Human Mind and Will.
Dependence of Man.—It seems to be the teaching of reason, no less than of religion, that man stands to the Creator in the relation of absolute dependence. The one is the subject, the other the sovereign. The control of Deity extends, not merely to the elements and forces of nature, which are by no means the chief and most important part of his works, but over all intelligent, rational beings. This is implied, not only in the fact that he is the Creator of all, but in the fact of moral government, and of a superintending providence. Manifestly, there could be no such thing as moral government, and no control over the affairs of the world, if the conduct of men, the minds and hearts of intelligent beings, were not subject to that control. This is not only the inference which reason draws from the acknowledged supremacy of the Creator, it is not only thus a tenet of natural religion, but it is also one of the plainest doctrines of revealed truth. In the most explicit and direct terms, the Scriptures ascribe to God the supreme control of human conduct, of the human mind and heart. This power over the thoughts and purposes of intelligent beings is the very highest power.
This Control unlimited.—This control, moreover, in order to be complete and effective, must reach beyond the present and passing moment, must take in the future, must sweep through the whole range of coming duration, and comprehend whatever is to be. Nothing must take place without his foreknowledge and permission. Theminutest events, the falling of a sparrow, the number of the forest leaves, and of the hairs of our head, must be no exception to this general law.
Implies a Plan, and that Plan embraces human Conduct.—If we suppose the supreme Being to be, not only a Creator and Ruler, but a wise and intelligent one, then we must suppose him to have someplanof operations. The very idea ofprovidence, indeed, implies this. And this plan must be supposed to extend to, and include, future events, all events, minute events; for the little and the great are linked together, the future and the present are linked together, and the plan and government that has to do with one, must have to do with all, and with human conduct among the rest. This, again, is not more clearly the doctrine of reason than of revelation.
The Difficulty stated.—Whatever freedom man has, then, it must be such a freedom as is consistent with God's complete control and government of him. Neither his present nor his future conduct, neither his thoughts, his feelings, nor his purposes, must be beyond the reach of the divine purpose and control. But how are these things to be reconciled—man's entire freedom, God's entire control and government of him?
Different Positions assumed.—Both are facts, and, therefore, true. Either, by itself, can be well enough conceived and comprehended, but, taken together, they appear inconsistent. Many do not hesitate to pronounce them so. Some, who accept them both as true, regard them as still inexplicable and incomprehensible. Others receive one and reject the other, or, at least, assume such a position as amounts to a virtual rejection of one of these truths. Thus the fatalist secures the supreme government of God, only at the expense of human freedom, and thus weakens, if not destroys, the foundation of human accountability. Others again, in their horror of fatalism, preserve the freedom and accountability of man, at the expense of the divine governmentand purposes, thus virtually placing man beyond the power and control of Deity.
Application of the preceding Psychology to this Question.—How, then, are these two great facts to be reconciled? If we mistake not, a true psychology, a correct view of the nature of the will, prepares the way for this. What have we found to be the process of the mind in volition? The several steps of the process are found to be these: In the first place, some object to be accomplished is presented, as such, to the understanding. This object, thus presented, appealing to the desires or to the sense of duty influences or inclines the mind. This, again, leads to choice, choice to volition, volition to action.
Freedom lies where.—Now in this whole process,wheredoes the element of freedom lie? Not in the final executive act—the doing as we will to do—for that is merely a bodily function, a physical and not a mental power; nor yet in the control of the motives which influence or incline us; for these are, for the most part, out of our power. Evidently freedom, so far as it pertains to the human will, lies in the power of forming and putting forth such volitions as we please, in other words, of choosing as we like, and willing as we choose, so that whatever our inclinations may be, we shall be at liberty to choose and to will accordingly. This is the highest practical freedom of which it is possible to conceive, and it is all the freedom which pertains to the human will.
How this may consist with the divine Control.—Let us see, now, if this be not a liberty perfectly compatible with the divine government and control over us. These volitions and choices of ours are by no means arbitrary or casual; there is a reason for them; a reason why we choose as we do. We choose thus and thus, because we are, on the whole, so disposed orinclined; and this inclination or disposition depends on a great variety of circumstances, on the nature and strength of the motive presented, our physical andmental constitution and habits, our power of self-control, the strength of our desires, as compared with our sense of duty, the presence or absence of the exciting object; in fine, on a great variety of predisposing causes and circumstances, all of which are to be taken into the account, when the question is, why do we choose thus, and not otherwise? Now, these circumstances which go to determine our inclinations, and so our choices and volitions, are, in a great measure, beyond our direct control. Our physical and mental constitution, our external condition, our state of mind, and circumstances at any given moment, whatever in the shape of motive or inducement may be present with moving power to the mind, inclining us this way or that, all this lies much more under divine control than under our own.
The Point of Connection.—Here, then, to speak reverently, lies the avenue of approach, through which Deity may come in and take possession of the human mind, and influence and shape its action, without infringing, in the least, on its perfect freedom. He has only to present such motives as shall seem to the mind weighty and sufficient, has only to touch the main-spring of human inclination, lying back of actual choice, has only to secure within us a disposition or liking to any given course, and our choice follows with certainty, and our volition, and our action; and that action and volition arefreein the highest sense, because our choice was free. We acted just as we pleased, just as we were inclined.
The Influence of Man over his fellow Men an Illustration of the same Principle.—Now this is just what we, in a limited way, and to a small extent, are constantly doing with respect to our fellow men. We present motives, inducements, to a given course, we work upon their inclinations, we appeal to their sensibilities, their natural desires, their sense of duty, and in proportion as we gain access to their hearts, we are successful in shaping and controlling their conduct. The great and difficult art of governingmen lies in this. We have only to suppose alikepower, but complete and perfect, to be exercised by the supreme disposer and controller of events, so shaping and ordering circumstances as to determine the inclinations of men, gaining access, not in an uncertain and indirect manner, but by immediate approach to the human heart, all whose springs lie under his control, so that he can touch and command them as he will; we have only to conceive this, and we have, as it seems to me, a full and sufficient explanation of the fact that man acts freely, and just as he is inclined, while yet he is perfectly under the divine control.
Power which the Scriptures ascribe to God.—And this, if I mistake not, is precisely the sort of control and power over man which the Scriptures always ascribe to God, viz., power over the inclinations, affections, dispositions, from which proceed all our voluntary actions. In his hand are theheartsof men, and he can turn them as the rivers of water are turned.
The Theory does not suppose a divine Influence to Evil.—It is not necessary to suppose that God ever influences men to evil; the supposition is inconsistent with the divine character, with all we know and conceive of Deity. Nor is any such influence over man necessary in order to the accomplishment of evil, but, on the contrary, much is needed to restrain and prevent him from sin. Sufficient already are the motives and influences that incline him to go astray; feeble and inefficient, the inducements to a better life. Could we suppose, however, any influence of this sort to be exerted over man, inclining him to evil, we can still see how such influence might be perfectly consistent with his entire freedom. It is not the integrity of human freedom, but the integrity of the divine character, that forbids such a supposition.
Does not interfere with Responsibility.—Does such a power over human conduct, as that now attributed to the supreme Being, interfere with humanresponsibility? Notin the least. Responsibility rests with him who acts freely and as he pleases, doing that which is right or wrong, of his own accord, knowing what he does, and because he has a mind to do it. And it is thus man acts, under whatever decree of divine influence we may suppose him placed.
§ II.—Man's Power over Himself.
Unjust to require what it is impossible to perform.—Have I power, in all cases, to do what the divine will requires; power to doright? It would seem to be the verdict of reason, and the common sense of mankind, that to require of any man what is literally and absolutely beyond his power, is unjust, and that such a requirement, if it were made, would impose no obligation, since obedience would be impossible. We cannot suppose God to be guilty of such manifest injustice. His commands are right. They carry with them the judgment and reason of men. Conscience approves them. Obligation attends them. They must, therefore, be such commands as it is possible for us to obey. It would be manifest injustice and wrong to require of me what it is actually and absolutely out of my power to do.
Supposed Disinclination.—But suppose I have really no inclination, no disposition, to do right. My affections and desires are all wrong, inclining me to evil, and my sense of duty or moral obligation is not strong enough to prevail against these natural desires and evil inclinations; suppose this, which, alas! is too often true, and what then becomes of mypowerto do right? Does it any longer exist? Have I any power to change those affections and inclinations; or, they remaining as they are, have I any power to go contrary to them? A question this, at once profoundly philosophical, and intensely practical.
Position of the Fatalist.—The fatalist has no hesitation in replyingno, to these questions. Man has no power to change the current of his own inclinations, nor yet to goagainst that current. He is wholly under the influence of motives; they turn him this way and that. He has power to do as he wills, but no power over thevolitionsthemselves. He has power to do only what he has a mind to do. He has no mind, no inclination to do right, therefore, no power to do so.
This Position at Variance with a true Psychology.—A correct psychology, as we have already seen, gives a different answer. It is not true, as a matter of fact in the philosophy of the human mind, that man has nopowerto do what he has nodispositionto do; nor is it true that his inclinations and affections are wholly out of his power and control. In both respects, fatalism is at war, not more with the common sense of mankind, than with a sound and true philosophy.
Confounds Power with Inclination.—To say that man has nopowerto do what he is notinclinedto do, is to confound power with inclination. They are distinct things. The one may exist without the other. I have power to do what I have no disposition to do; on the other hand, I may have the disposition to do what is not in my power. I have power to set fire to my own house, or to my neighbor's, or to cut off my right hand; power, but no disposition. Present a motive sufficiently weighty to change my mind, and incline me to the act, and you create, in that way, a new disposition, but no new power. This point has been fully discussed in the previous chapter, and I need not here repeat the argument. It was shown that in order to the actual doing of a thing, two things are requisite, namely, thepowerto do, and the inclination toexertthat power; and that neither involves the other. Where the power alone exists, the thingcan bedone, butwill not be; where both exist, it bothcanandwillbe done. It is not true, then, in any proper use of terms, that want of inclination is want of power.
Our Inclinations not wholly beyond our Control.—Equally incorrect is the position that our inclinations andaffections are wholly out of our own control. Within certain limits it is in our power to change them. Inclination is not a fixed quantity. It may change. It ought to change. In many respects it is constantly changing. We take different views of things, and so our feelings and inclinations change. Circumstances change, the course of events changes; and our disposition is modified accordingly. So that while the affections and inclinations are certainly not under thedirectandimmediatecontrol of the will, it is still, in a great measure, in our power to modify and control them. While they remain as they are, it is quite certain that we shall do as we do; but it is notnecessarythat theyshould, norcertainthat theywill, remain as they are.
The true Answer.—To the question, then,canthe man whose inclinations are to evil, whose heart is wrong, do right? a true psychology answersyes. Hecando what he is not inclined to do; nor is that evil inclination itself a fixed quantity; he can be, he may be, otherwise inclined.
Something else needed beside Power.—- It must be admitted, however, that so long as the heart is wrong, so long as the evil disposition continues, so long the manwillcontinue to do evil, notwithstanding all hispowerto the contrary. Left to himself, there is very little probability of his effecting any material change in himself for the better. In order to do this, there is needed an influence from without, and from above; an influence that shallinclinehim to obedience, that shall make himwillingto obey.
The Gospel meets this Necessity.—This is precisely the want of his nature which divine grace meets. It creates within him aclean heart, and renews within him aright spirit. This is the sublime mystery of regeneration. The soul that is thus born of God is madewillingto do right. The inclinations are no longer to evil, but to good, and the man still doing that which he pleases, is pleased to do the will of God. The change is in the disposition; it is a change of the affections, of theheart; thus the Scriptures always represent it. This was all that was wanted to secure obedience, and this divine grace supplies.
It is not our province to discuss theological questions, as such. It has been our aim, simply, to show the relation of a true psychology to the system of truth revealed in the Scriptures. The perfectcoincidenceof the two is an argument in favor of each.
POWER OF WILL.
Differences in this respect.—There are great differences among men, as regards the strength and energy of this, as compared with the other departments of mental activity. The difference is, perhaps, as great in this respect, as in regard to the other mental faculties. Not all are gifted with equal power of imagination, not all with equal strength of memory, or of the reasoning faculty; not all with equal strength of the executive power of the mind. Some persons exhibit a weakness of will, a want of decision and firmness, an irresolution of character and purpose. They waver and hesitate in cases of doubt and emergency, requiring decision and energy. They are governed by no fixed purpose. The course which they adopt to-day, they abandon to-morrow for the opposite. They are controlled by circumstances. Opposition turns them from their course, difficulties discourage them. They are easily persuaded, easily led; ill fitted to be themselves leaders of men.
Others, again, are firm and inflexible as a rock. They choose their course, and pursue it, regardless of difficulties and consequences. Difficulties only arouse them to new effort. Opposition only strengthens their decision and purpose. They are hard to be persuaded, when once theirminds are made up, and harder still to be driven. They take their stand, nothing daunted by opposing numbers, and, with Fitz-James, when suddenly confronted and surrounded by the hosts of Roderic Dhu, exclaim,
"Come one, come all, thisrockshall flyFrom its firm base, as soon asI."
"Come one, come all, thisrockshall flyFrom its firm base, as soon asI."
Instances of Firmness.—Napoleon, fiery and impetuous as he was, possessed this energy and strength of will. Obstacles, difficulties, insurmountable to other men, established usages, institutions, armies, thrones, all were swept away before the irresistible energy of that mighty will, and that determined purpose, as the wave, driven before the storm, clears itself a path among the pebbles and shells that lie strewn upon the shore. In the character of his brother Joseph, King of Spain, we have an example of the opposite. Mild, cultivated, refined, amiable, of elegant tastes, a man of letters, loving retirement and leisure, he was lacking in that energy and decision of character which fit men for command in camps and courts. We have in the firm and terrible energy of Cromwell, as contrasted with the mildness and inefficiency of his son and successor Richard, the same difference illustrated. The Puritan leaders of the English Revolution were men of stern and determined energy of character. Among the Romans, Cæsar presents a notable example of that strength of will which fits men for great enterprises; while the great Roman orator, with all his acquisitions of varied learning, and all his philosophy, and all his eloquence, was deficient in firmness of purpose.
Often exhibited in military Leaders.—In general it may be remarked that great military commanders have usually been distinguished for this trait of character. It was by virtue of their energy, and decision, and firmness of purpose, that they accomplished what they did, succeeding where other men would have failed. Thus it was with Hannibal, with Frederic the Great, with Wellington, with ourown Washington. They were, by nature, endowed with those qualities which fitted them for their important and difficult stations; while, at the same time, the work to which they were called, and the circumstances in which they were placed, tended greatly to develop and strengthen those peculiar traits and qualities, and this among the rest.
The same Trait exhibited in other Stations of Life.—Strength of will shows itself, however, in other relations and stations of life, as well as in the military commander. The leader of a great political party, as, for example, of the Administration, or of the Opposition, in the English Parliament, has abundant occasion for firmness and strength of purpose. It was not less strength of will, than of moral principle, in Socrates, that led him resolutely to withstand the popular clamor, and the opinions of his associate judges, and refuse to sentence the unsuccessful military commanders, on the day when the decision lay in his hands; the same trait showed itself in that retreat after the battle of Delius, so graphically described by Plato, when he walked alone and slowly from the field, where all was confusion and flight, with such coolness and such an air of calm self-reliance, that no enemy ventured to approach him; it was shown not less in his determined refusal to escape from prison, and the unjust sentence of death, notwithstanding all the entreaties and remonstrances of friends.
Strength of Will in the Orator.—The truly great orator, rising to repel the assaults of his antagonist, or to allay the prejudices and take command of the passions and opinions of a popular assembly, calm and collected, and conscious of his strength, master of his own emotions, and of all his powers, presents an illustration of the same principle. It was seen in Webster, when he rose in the Senate to reply to Hayne. The very aspect of the man conveyed to all beholders the idea of power—a strength, not merely of gigantic intellect, but of resolute willdeterminedto conquer.
Strength of Will as shown in the Endurance of Suffering.—The same principle is sometimes manifested in a different manner, and in different circumstances. If it leads to heroicactions, it leads also to heroicenduranceand suffering. It was the firm and stubborn will of Regulus, that sent him back to Carthage, to endure all that the disappointed malice of his foes could invent. It was the firm will of Jerome of Prague, that kept him from recantation in the face of death; the firm will of Cranmer, that thrust his right hand into the flames, and kept it there till it was quite consumed. A like firmness of purpose has been exhibited in thousands of instances, both in the earlier and later annals of Christian martyrdom. Rather than renounce a principle, or abandon the deeply-cherished convictions of the soul, natures, the most frail and feeble, have calmly met and endured the greatest sufferings, with a firmness, and courage, and power of endurance, that nothing could shake or overcome.
How to be attained.—To multiply instances is needless. But how shall this strength of will, so desirable, so essential to true greatness and nobleness of character, be attained?
In part it is the gift of nature, doubtless—the result of that physical and mental constitution with which some are more fortunately endowed; in part it is an acquisition to be made, as any other mental or physical acquisition, by due care and training. It will be of service, especially, in any endeavor of this sort, to accustom ourselves to decide with promptness, and act with energy in the many smaller and less important affairs of life, and to carry out a purpose, once deliberately formed, with persistence, even in trivial matters. The habit thus formed, we may be able afterward, and gradually, to carry into higher departments of action, and into circumstances of greater embarrassment and difficulty. On the other hand, this must not be carried to the extreme ofobstinacy, which is the refusal to correct a mistake, or acknowledge an error, or listen to the wiser and better counsels of others.
HISTORICAL SKETCH.—OUTLINE OF THE CONTROVERSY RESPECTING FREEDOM OF THE WILL.
Question early Discussed.—The question respecting human freedom, was very early a topic of inquiry and discussion. It enters prominently into the philosophy of all nations, so far as we know, among whom either philosophy or theology have found a place. It is by no means confined to Christian, or even to cultivated nations. It holds a prominent place in the theological systems and disputes of India and the East, at the present day. The missionary of the Christian faith meets with it, to his surprise, perhaps, in the remotest regions, and among tribes little cultivated. It is a question, at once so profound, and yet of such personal and practical moment, that it can hardly have escaped the attention of any thoughtful and reflecting mind, in any country, or in any age of the world.
The Greek Philosophy.—Among the Greeks, conflicting opinions respecting this matter prevailed in the different schools. TheEpicureans, although asserting human liberty in opposition to the doctrine of universal and inexorablefate, were, nevertheless,necessitarians, if we may judge from the writings of Lucretius, whose idea of liberty, as Mr. Stewart has well shown, is compatible with the most perfect necessity, and renders man "as completely a piece of passive mechanism as he was supposed to be by Collins and Hobbes." This liberty is, itself, thenecessary effect of some cause, and the reason assigned for this view is precisely that given by modern advocates of necessity, namely, that to suppose otherwise, is to supposean effect without a cause.
On the other hand, theStoics, while maintaining thedoctrine offate, held, nevertheless, to the utmost liberty of the will. With the consistency of these views, we are not now concerned. Epictetus is referred to by Mr. Stewart, as an example of this not unusual combination of fatalism and free-will.
The Jewish Sects.—Very similar was the relation of the two rival sects among the Jews, the Sadducees and the Pharisees, the former holding the doctrine of human freedom, the latter of such a degree, at least, of fatality, as is inconsistent with true liberty.
The Arabian Schools.—Among no people, perhaps, has this question been more eagerly and widely discussed, than by the Arabians, whose philosophy seems to have grown out of their theology. When that remarkable book, the Koran, first aroused the impulsive mind of the Arab from his idle dreams, and startled him into consciousness of higher truth, the very first topic of inquiry and speculation about which his philosophic thought employed itself, seems to have been this long-standing question of human ability and the freedom of the will. The Koran taught the doctrine of necessity and fate. A sect soon arose, calledKadrites, from the wordkadr, power, freedom, holding the opposite doctrine, that man's actions, good and bad, are under the control of his own will. From this was gradually formed a large body ofdissenters, as they styled themselves, and in maintaining these views on the one side, and opposing them on the other, the controversy became more and more one of philosophy, and for some three centuries, with varied learning and skill, Arabian scholars and philosophers disputed, warmly, this most difficult and abstruse of metaphysical questions. Fatalism seems ultimately to have prevailed, as, indeed, a doctrine so congenial to error, and to every false system of religious belief, would be quite likely to do, where any such system is established.
The Scholastics and the Reformers.—Among the scholastic divines of the middle ages, some held to the liberty ofthe will, while many allowed only what they called the liberty ofspontaneity,i. e., power todoas we will, in opposition to liberty ofindifference, or power over the determinations of the will itself.
Among the moderns, the Reformers differed among themselves on the matter of liberty, the Lutherans, with Melanchthon, opposing the scheme of necessity; Calvin and Bucer maintaining it, as the necessary consequence of their views of divine predestination.
Distinguished modern Advocates of Necessity.—Among the philosophical writers of the last and the present century, a very strong array of eminent names is on the side of necessity. Hobbes, Locke—who is claimed, however, by each side—Leibnitz, Collins, Edwards, Priestley, Belsham, Lord Kames, Hartley, Mill, advocate openly the doctrine of necessity.
Doctrine of Hobbes.—The views ofHobbesseem to have given shape to the opinions of subsequent advocates of this theory. The only liberty which he allows, is that of doing what one wills to do, or what the scholastics called the liberty of spontaneity. Water is free, and at liberty, when nothing prevents it from flowing down the stream. Liberty he defines, accordingly, to be "the absence of all impediments to action that are not contained in the nature and intrinsical quality of the agent." A man whose hands are tied, is not at liberty to go; the impediment is not in him, but in his bands; while he who is sick or lame, is at liberty, because the obstacle is in himself. A free agent is one who can do as he wills.
This is essentially the view of freedom adopted by the later advocates of necessity, and almost in the same terms it is the view of Collins, Priestley, and Edwards.
Doctrine of Locke.—It is, also,Locke'sidea of freedom. Liberty, he says, is the power of any agent "to do or forbear any particular action, according to the determination or thought of the mind, whereby either of them is preferredto the other." This extends only to the carrying out our volitions when formed, and not to the matter of willing or preferring; power over the determinations of the will, itself, is not included in this definition.
Locke Inconsistent.—In this, Locke was inconsistent with himself, since, in his chapter on power, he seems to be maintaining the doctrine of human freedom. The liberty here intended, it has been justly remarked by Bledsoe, is not freedom of the will, or of the mind in willing, but only of the body; it refers to the motion of the body, not to the action of the mind.
Locke expressly says, "there may bevolitionwhere there is no liberty;" and gives, in illustration, the case of a man falling through a breaking bridge, who has volition or preference not to fall, but no liberty, since he cannot help falling. In this, again, Locke is inconsistent, since, elsewhere, he distinguishes between volition and desire or preference, while here he does not distinguish them.
There can be no doubt that Locke supposed himself an advocate of human freedom, for such is the spirit of his whole treatise, especially of his twenty-first chapter; at the same time, it must be confessed, his definitions are incomplete, and his language inconsistent and vacillating, so that there is some reason to class him, as Priestley does, with those who really adopt the scheme of necessity without knowing or intending it.
View of Leibnitz.—Leibnitz was led to adopt the doctrine of necessity from his general theory of thesufficient reason, that is, that nothing occurs without areason whyit should be so, and not otherwise. This principle he carries so far as to deny the power of Deity to create two things perfectly alike, and the power of either God or man tochooseone of two things that are perfectly alike. This principle presents the mind as always determined by the greatest apparent good, and establishes, as its author supposed, bythe certainty of demonstration, the absolute impossibility of free agency.
View of Collins.—Collins maintains the necessity of all human actions, from experience, from the impossibility of liberty, from the divine foreknowledge, from the nature of rewards and punishments, and the nature of morality. He takes pains to reconcile this doctrine with man's accountability and moral agency, and is careful to define his terms with great exactness. Thus the terms liberty and necessity are defined as follows: "First, though I denylibertyin a certain meaning of the word, yet I contend forlibertyas it signifies apower in man to do as he wills or pleases. Secondly, when I affirmnecessity, I contend only formoral necessity, meaning thereby that man, who is an intelligent and sensible being, is determined by his reason and his senses; and I deny man to be subject to such necessity as is in clocks and watches, and such other beings, which, for want of sensation and intelligence, are subject to anabsolute,physical, ormechanical necessity".
Coincidence of Collins and Edwards.—The coincidence of these views and definitions, and, indeed, of the plan of argument, with the definitions and the arguments of Edwards, is remarkable. No two writers, probably, were ever further removed from each other in their general spirit and character, and in their system of religious belief; yet as regards this doctrine, the definitions and views of one were those of the other, and as Mr. Stewart has justly remarked, the coincidence is so perfect, that the outline given by the former, of the plan of his work, might have served with equal propriety as a preface to the latter.
Views of Edwards.—No writer has more ably discussed this question than the elder Edwards. He is universally conceded to be one of the ablest metaphysicians, as well as theologians, of modern times. His work on the Freedom of the Will is a masterpiece of reasoning. At the same time, as to the character and tendency of the system thereinmaintained, the greatest difference of opinion exists. By some he is regarded as a fatalist, by others he is claimed as an advocate of human freedom. There is some ground for this difference of opinion. No writer, from Plato downward, was ever perfectly self-consistent; it would be strange if Edwards were so. That the general scheme of necessity, maintained by Edwards, tends, in some respects, to fatalism,—that the ablest champions of fatalism, and even writers of atheistic, and immoral views, have held essentially the same doctrine, and maintained it by the same arguments—must be conceded; that such was not the design and spirit of his work, that such was not his own intention, is perfectly evident.
Main Positions of Edwards.—The definitions of Edwards, as we have already seen, are the same with those of Collins and Hobbes. He understands by libertymerely a power to do as one wills. The mind is always determined by the greatest apparent good. The motive determines the act,causesit. The mind acts, wills, chooses, etc., but the motive is thecauseof its action. That the mind should be the cause of its own volitions, implies, he maintains, an act of will preceding the volition, that is a volition prior to volition, and so on forever in an infinite series. This argument, the famousdictum necessitatis, has been considered in a previous chapter. Now, to say that motive is the producing cause, and volition the effect, especially if the connection of the two is of thesame natureas that between physical causes and effects, as Edwards affirms, is certainly to say that which looks very strongly toward fatalism.
Necessity, what.—Edwards maintains the doctrine ofnecessity. But what did he mean bymoral necessity? The phrase is unfortunate, for reasons already suggested—it does convey the idea of irresistibility, of something whichmustandwill be—in spite of all contrary will and endeavor. This, however, he is careful to disclaim. He means by moral and philosophical necessity simpleCERTAINTY,"nothing different from certainty." "No opposition or contrary will and endeavor," he says, "is supposable in the case of moral necessity, which is a certainty of the inclination and will itself." Now we must allow him to put his own meaning upon the terms he uses; and to say that under given circumstances, there being given such and such motives, inclinations, and preferences, such and such volitions willcertainlyfollow, is not to say that the will is not free in its action—is not to shut us up to absolute fate—is not, in fact, to say any thing more than is strictly and psychologically true. In defending himself from this very charge, he uses the following explicit language in a letter to a minister of the Church of Scotland: "On the contrary,I have largely declared that the connection between antecedent things and consequent ones, which takes place with regard to the acts of men's wills, which is called moral necessity, is called by the name of necessityIMPROPERLY; and that such a necessity as attends the acts of men's wills is more properly called certainty than necessity; it being no other than the certain connection between the subject and predicate of the proposition which affirms their existence." "Nothing that I maintain supposes that men are at all hindered by any fatal necessity, from doing, and even willing and choosing as they please, with full freedom; free with the highest degree of liberty that ever was thought of, or that could possibly enter into the heart of man to conceive." This is explicit, and ought to satisfy us as to what Edwards himself thought of his own work, and meant by it. Still a man does not always understand himself, is not always the best judge of his own arguments, is not always consistent with himself, does not always express his own real opinions, nor do himself justice, in every part of his reasonings. This is certainly the case with Edwards. We are at a loss to reconcile some passages in his treatise with the foregoing extract,e. g.,the dictum necessitatis; also his declaration that the difference between natural andmoral necessity "liesnot so muchIN THE NATUREof the connection as in the two terms connected." This is an unfortunate admission for those who would shield him from the charge of fatalism. If the necessity, by which a volition follows the given motive, is, after all, of thesame naturewith that by which a stone falls to the earth, or water freezes at a given temperature, it is all over with us as to any consistent, intelligible defence of the freedom of the will.
If, moreover, the doctrine of Edwards leaves man full power, as he says above, towill and to choose as he pleases, what becomes of thedictum, which makes it impossible for the mind to determine its own volitions?
Does not distinguish between the Affections and the Will.—It should be remembered that Edwards does not distinguish between the will and affections. This distinction had not, at that time, been clearly drawn by writers on the philosophy of the mind. The twofold division of mental powers, into understanding and will, was then prevalent; the affections, of course, were classed with the latter. Hence there is not that definiteness in the use of terms which modern psychology demands. Had Edwards distinguished between the affections and the will, it must have given a different cast to his entire work. Even Locke, whose philosophy Edwards follows in the main, had distinguished betweenwillanddesire, as we have already seen; but in this he is not followed by Edwards, who, while he does not regard them as "words of precisely the same signification," yet does not think them "so entirely distinct that they can ever be said torun counter."
Views of the later Necessitarians.—Of the views of the later advocates of necessity, Priestley, Belsham, Diderot, and others, of that school, we have already spoken in a previous chapter. They carry out the scheme, with the greatest boldness and consistency, to its legitimate consequences, fatalism, and the denial of free agency and accountability. God isthe real and only responsible doer of whatever comes to pass, and man the passive instrument in his hand. Remorse, regret, repentance, are idle terms, and to praise or blame ourselves or others, for any thing that we or they have done, is merely absurd.
Advocates of the Opposite.—On the other hand, the doctrine of the freedom of the will has not wanted able advocates among the more recent philosophical writers. In general it may be remarked, that those who have treated of the powers of the human mind, as psychologists, have, for the most part, maintained the essential freedom of the will, while the advocates of the opposite view have been chiefly metaphysicians, rather than psychologists, and, in most cases, have viewed the matter from a theological rather than a philosophical point of view. Among the more recent and able advocates of the freedom of the will, are Cousin and Jouffroy, in France, Tappan and Bledsoe, in our own country. Previously, Mr. Stewart, in his appendix to his "Active and Moral Powers," had concisely, but very ably, handled the matter, and earlier still, Kant, in Germany, had conceded the liberty of the will as a matter ofconsciousness, while unable to reconcile it with the dictates of reason.
View of Hamilton.—Substantially the same view is taken by the late Sir William Hamilton, who, by general consent, stands at the head of modern philosophers, and who accepts the doctrine of liberty as afact, an immediate dictum of consciousness, while, at the same time, he is unable toconceiveof its possibility, since "to conceive a free act, is to conceive an act which, being a cause, is not, in itself, an effect; in other words, to conceive an absolute commencement;" and this he regards as impossible. At the same time, it is equally beyond our power, he thinks, to conceive the possibility of the opposite, the doctrine of necessity, since that supposes "aninfinite series of determined causes," which cannot be conceived. But though inconceivable, freedom is not the less a fact given by consciousness and is to be placed in thesame category with many other facts among the phenomena of mind, "which we must admit as actual, but of whose possibility we are wholly unable to form a notion."
Remarks upon this View.—The difficulty here presented,—if I may venture a remark upon the opinions of so profound a thinker, and the same is true of Kant,—turns evidently on the peculiar idea of freedom entertained by those writers, namely, that in order to be free, an act of the will must be wholly undetermined, not itself an effect, but an absolute commencement. Any influence, from any source, going to determine or incline a man to will as he does, renders the act no longer free. Such freedom is certainly inconceivable; and what is more, impracticable; it exists as little among the possibilities of the actual world, as among the possibilities of thought. We never act, except under the influence of motive and inclination; and if acts thus performed are not free then no acts that we perform are so.
View of Coleridge.—This eminent disciple of the earlier German philosophy, derives from Kant the view of freedom now explained, and carries it to the furthest extreme. All influence and inclination are inconsistent with freedom. The disposition to do a thing renders the will, and the act of the will, no longer free. Anature, of any kind, is inconsistent with freedom. This, of course, shuts out all freedom from the actual world. Nor is it possible to conceive how even the acts of Deity can be any more free than ours, on this supposition; nor how, if any such freedom as this were supposed to exist, an act thus performed, without any motive, or any disposition or inclination on the part of the agent, could be arationalor accountable act.
Views of Cousin, and Jouffroy.—Cousin and Jouffroy while by no means denying the influence of motive upon the mind, place the fact of liberty in the power which the mind has of being itself a cause, and of putting forth volitions from its own proper power. The law of inertia, contends Jouffroy, which requires a moving force proportionedto the movement of a material body, does not apply to the human mind, and "to apply this law to the relation which subsists between the resolutions of my will and the motives which act upon it, is to suppose that my being, that I myself, am not a cause; for a cause is something which produces an act by its own proper power." Cousin, in like manner, places liberty in the absolute and undetermined power of the will to act as cause; and "this cause, in order to produce its effect, has need of no other theatre, and no other instrument than itself. It produces it directly, with out any thing intermediate, and without condition; ... being always able to do what it does not do, and able not to do what it does. Here, then, in all its plenitude, is the characteristic of liberty."
View of Tappan.—One of the ablest defenders of the freedom of the will in our own country, Mr. Tappan, in his review of Edwards, takes essentially the position just explained. All cause lies ultimately in the will. It is this which makes the nisus or effort that produces any event or phenomenon. Of this nisus the mind or will is itself the cause, and, as such, it isself-moved. It makes its nisus of itself, and of itself it forbears to make it, and within the sphere of its activity, and in relation to its objects, it has the power of selecting, by a mere arbitrary act, any particular object. It is a cause, all whose acts, as well as any particular act, considered as phenomena demanding a cause, are accounted forin itself alone.
Position of Bledsoe.—Similar is the position of Mr. Bledsoe, one of the most recent reviewers of Edwards, a writer of marked ability and candor. He denies, however, that volition is theeffectof any thing, whether motive of mind, in the sense that motion of the arm is an effect. It isactivity,action,the cause of action, but noteffect. In distinction from most writers of the same theological views, he denies that the will isself-determined, or that it isdetermined at all, and by any thing. It is thedeterminer, but not thedetermined.