_Opinion of Reid._--Accordant with the view now expressed, are the

following remarks of Dr Reid: "With regard to our actions, we may

desire what we do not will, and will what we do not desire, nay, what

we have a great aversion to. A man a-thirst has a strong desire to

drink, but, for some particular reason, he determines not to gratify

his desire. A judge, from a regard to justice and the duty of his

office, dooms a criminal to die, while, from humanity and particular

affection, he desires that he should live. A man, for health, may take

a nauseous draught for which he has no desire, but a great aversion.

Desire, therefore, even when its object is some action of our own, is

only an excitement to the will, but is not volition. The determination

of the mind may be not to do what we desire to do."

_Opinion of Locke._--To the same effect is the following from Locke:

"This caution, of being careful not to be misled by expressions that

do not enough keep up the difference between the _will_ and several

acts of the mind that are quite distinct from it, I think the more

necessary, because I find the will often confounded with several of the

affections, especially _desire_, and one put for the other, and that by

men who would not willingly be thought not to have had very distinct

notions of things, and not to have writ very clearly about them. This,

I imagine, has been no small occasion of obscurity and mistake in

this matter; and therefore is, as much as may be, to be avoided. For,

he that shall turn his thoughts inward upon what passes in his mind

when he _wills_, shall see that the _will_ or power of _volition_ is

conversant about nothing, but that particular determination of the

mind, whereby, barely by a thought, the mind endeavors to give rise,

continuation, or stop to any action which it takes to be in its power.

This well considered, plainly shows that the _will_ is perfectly

distinguished from _desire_, which, in the very same action may have

quite a contrary tendency from that which our will sets us upon. A man

whom I cannot deny, may oblige me to use persuasions to another, which,

at the same time I am speaking, I may wish may not prevail on him. In

this case, it is plain, the _will_ and _desire_ run counter. I will

the action that tends one way, while my desire tends another, and that

right contrary. Whence it is evident," he adds, "that _desiring_ and

_willing_ are two distinct acts of the mind; and, consequently, that

the _will_, which is but the power of _volition_, is much more distinct

from _desire_."

_Testimony of Consciousness._--The testimony of consciousness seems

to be clearly in accordance with the views now expressed. We readily

distinguish between our desires and our volitions. We are conscious of

willing, often, what is contrary to our desires; the course which honor

and duty approve, and which we resolutely carry out, is in disregard

of many fond and cherished desires which still agitate the bosom. And

even when our desires and volitions coincide, it requires but little

reflection to discover the difference between them. It is a difference

recognized in the common language of life, and in the writings and

conversation of men who are by no means theorists or metaphysicians.

_Further Illustrations of the Distinction._--Mr. Upham, who has very

clearly and ably maintained the distinction now in question, refers us,

in illustration, to the case of Abraham offering his son upon the altar

of sacrifice, sternly, resolutely willing, in obedience to the divine

command, what must have been repugnant to every feeling of the father's

heart; to the memorable instance of Brutus ordering and witnessing

the execution of his own sons, as conspirators against the State,

the struggle between the strong will and the strong paternal feeling

evidently visible in his countenance, as he stood at the dreadful

scene; and the case of Virginius, plunging the knife into the bosom of

a beloved daughter, whose dishonor could in no other way be averted.

In all these, and many other similar cases, private interests and

personal affections are freely and nobly sacrificed, in favor of high

public interests, and moral ends; yet, to do this, the will must act in

opposition to the current of natural feeling and desire.

CHAPTER III.

FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

_Problems respecting the Will._--Our attention has thus far been

directed to the psychological facts respecting the will, in itself

considered, and also in its relations to the other mental powers. It

becomes necessary now, in order to the more complete understanding

of the matter, to look at some of the disputed points, the grand

problems, respecting the human will, which have for ages excited and

divided the reflecting world. The way is prepared for these more

difficult questions, when once the simple facts, to which our attention

has already been directed, are well understood. These questions are

numerous, but, if I mistake not, they all resolve themselves virtually

into the one general problem of the _freedom_ of the will, or, at

least, so link themselves with that as to admit of discussion in the

same connection.

_Freedom, what._--In approaching this much-disputed question, it is

necessary to ascertain, in the first place, what is _meant_ by freedom,

and what by _freedom of the will_, else we may discuss the matter to

no purpose. Various definitions of freedom have been given. It is a

word in very common use, and, in its general application, not liable

to be misunderstood. Every one who understands the ordinary language

of life, knows well enough what freedom is. It denotes the opposite of

restraint; the power to do what one likes, pleases, is inclined to do.

My person is free, when it can come and go, do this or that, as suits

my inclination. Any faculty of the mind, or organ of the body, is free,

_when its own specific and proper action is not hindered_. Freedom of

motion, is power to move when and where we please Freedom of speech,

is power to say what we like. Freedom of action, is power to do what we

like.

_Freedom of the Will, what._--What, then, is freedom of the _will_?

What can it be but the power of exercising, without restraint or

hindrance, its own specific and proper function, viz., the putting

forth volitions, just such volitions as we please. This as we have

seen, is the proper office of the will, its specific and appropriate

action. If nothing prevents or restrains me from forming and putting

forth such volitions as I please, then my will is free; and not

otherwise.

Freedom of the will, then, is _not_ power to _do what one wills_, in

the sense of executing volitions when formed that is simple freedom of

the limbs, and muscular apparatus, not of will--a freedom which may

be destroyed by a stroke of paralysis, or an iron chain;--it is not a

freedom of walking, if one wills to walk, or of singing, or flying,

or moving the right arm, if one is so disposed. That is freedom, but

not freedom of the _will_. My will is free, not when I can _do_ what I

_will_ to do, but _when I can will to do_ just what I please. Whatever

freedom the will has, must lie within its own proper sphere of action,

and not without it; must relate to that, and not to something else.

This distinction, so very obvious, has, nevertheless, been sometimes

strangely overlooked.

Is, then, the human will free, in the sense now defined? Let us first

notice some presumptions in favor of its freedom then the more direct

argument.

§ I.--PRESUMPTIONS IN FAVOR OF FREEDOM.

_The general Conviction of Freedom a Presumption in its Favor._--1.

It is a presumption in favor of freedom that there is among men, a

very general, not to say universal conviction of freedom. It is a

prevalent idea, an established conviction and belief of the mind. We

are conscious of this belief ourselves, we observe it in others. When

we perform any act, or choose any course of conduct, we are impressed

with the belief that we could have done or chosen differently,

had we been so disposed. We never doubt or call in question this

ability, in regard to the practical matters of life. The languages

and the literature of the world bear witness to the universality of

this belief. Now this general conviction and firm belief of freedom

constitute, to say the least, a presumption, and a strong one, in favor

of the doctrine. If men are free to do as they like, then they are free

to _will_ as they like, for the willing precedes the doing; and if they

are not thus free, how happens this so general conviction of a freedom

which they do not possess?

_The Appeal to Consciousness._--The argument is sometimes stated, by

the advocates of freedom, in a form which is liable to objection.

The appeal is made directly to consciousness. We are _conscious_, it

is said, of freedom, conscious of a power, when we do any thing, to

do otherwise, to take some other course instead. Strictly speaking,

we are conscious only of our present state of mind. I may _know_

the past; but it is not a matter of consciousness; I may also know,

perhaps, what _might have_ been, in place of the actual past, but of

this I am not conscious. When I experience a sensation, or put forth

a volition, I am conscious of that sensation or volition; but I am

not conscious of what never occurred, that is, of some other feeling

or volition instead of an actual one. I may have a firm conviction,

amounting even to knowledge, that at the moment of experiencing that

feeling, or exercising that volition, it was possible for me to have

exercised a different one; but it is a conviction, a belief, at most

a knowledge, and not, properly, consciousness. I am conscious of the

_conviction_ that I am free, and that I can do otherwise than as I do;

and this, in itself, is a presumption, that I have such a power; but

I am not conscious of the power itself. It may be said, that if there

were any restraint upon my will, to prevent my putting forth such

volitions as I please, or to prevent my acting otherwise than I do,

I _should be_ conscious of such restraint; and this may be very true;

and from the absence of any such consciousness of restraint, I may

justly infer that I am free; but this, again, is an _inference_, and

not a _consciousness_. One thing, however, I am conscious of, that my

_actual_ volitions are such, and only such, as I please to put forth;

and this leads to the conviction that it is in my power to put forth

any volition that I may please.

_Our moral Nature a Presumption in Favor of Freedom._--2. It is a

further presumption in favor of the entire freedom of the will, that

man's moral nature seems to imply it. We approve or condemn the conduct

of others. It is with the understanding that they acted freely, and

could have done otherwise. We should never think of praising a man

for doing what he could not help doing, or of blaming him for what

it was utterly out of his power to avoid. So, also, we approve and

condemn our own actions, and always with the understanding that these

actions and volitions were free. There may be regret for that which

was unavoidable, but never a sense of _guilt_, never _remorse_. The

existence of these feelings always implies freedom of the will, the

power to have done otherwise. Let any man select that period of his

history, that act of his whole life, for which he blames himself most,

and of which the recollection casts the deepest gloom and sadness over

all his subsequent years, and let him ask himself why it is that he so

blames himself for that course, and he will find, in every case, that

it is because he knows that he might have done differently. Take away

this conviction, and you take away the foundation of all his remorse,

and of self-condemnation. The same thing is implied, also, in the

feeling of obligation. It is impossible to feel under moral obligation

to do what it is utterly and absolutely out of our power to do.

_This View maintained by Mr. Upham._--"There are some truths," says Mr.

Upham, "which are so deeply based in the human constitution, that all

men of all classes receive them, and act upon them. They are planted

deeply and immutably in the soul, and no reasoning, however plausible,

can shake them. And, if we are not mistaken, the doctrine of the

freedom of the will, as a condition of even the possibility of a moral

nature, is one of these first truths. It seems to be regarded, by all

persons, without any exception, as a dictate of common sense, and as a

first principle of our nature, that men are morally accountable, and

are the subjects of a moral responsibility in any respect, whatever,

only so far as they possess freedom, both of the outward action, and of

the will. They hold to this position, as an elementary truth, and would

no sooner think of letting it go than of abandoning the conviction of

their personal existence and identity. They do not profess to go into

particulars, but they assert it in the mass, that man is a moral being

only so far as he is free. And such a unanimous and decided testimony,

bearing, as it absolutely does, the seal and superscription of nature

herself, is entitled to serious consideration."

_Also by Dr. Reid._--Dr. Reid, also, takes essentially the same view.

He regards it as a first principle, to be ranked in the same class

with the conviction of our personal existence and identity, and the

existence of a material world, "that we have some degree of power over

our actions, and the determinations of our will." It is implied, he

maintains, in every act of volition, in all deliberation, and in every

resolution or purpose formed in consequence of deliberation. "It is

not more evident," he says, "that mankind have a conviction of the

existence of a material world, than that they have the conviction of

some degree of power in themselves, and in others, every one over his

own actions, and the determinations of his will--a conviction so early,

so general, and so interwoven with the whole of human conduct, that it

must be the natural effect of our constitution, and intended by the

Author of our being to guide our actions."

_Consequences of the Opposite._--3. The consequences of the opposite

view afford a presumption in favor of freedom.

If the will is not free, if all our liberty is merely a liberty to

do what we will to do, or to execute the volitions which we form,

but we have no power over the volitions themselves, then we have no

power whatever to will or to act differently from what we do. This is

_fatalism_. All that the fatalist maintains is, that we are governed

by circumstances out of our own control, so that, situated as we are,

it is impossible for us to act otherwise than as we do. From this

follows, as a natural and inevitable consequence, the absence of all

accountability and obligation. The foundation of these, as we have

already seen, is freedom. Take this away, and you strike a fatal blow

at man's moral nature. It is no longer possible for me to feel under

obligation to do what I have absolutely no power to do, or to believe

myself accountable for doing what I could not possibly avoid. Morality,

duty, accountability, become mere chimeras, idle fancies of the brain,

devices of the priest and the despot, to frighten men into obedience

and subjection.

_This View sustained by Facts._--These are not random statements.

It is a significant fact, that those who have undertaken to deny

accountability, and moral obligation, have, almost without exception,

I believe, been advocates of the doctrine of necessity. Indeed, it

seems impossible to maintain such views upon any other ground; while,

on the other hand, the denial of the freedom of the will leads almost

of necessity to such conclusions. "Remorse," says Mr. Belsham, "is

the exquisitely painful feeling which arises from the belief that,

in circumstances precisely the same, we might have chosen and acted

differently. This _fallacious_ feeling is superseded by the doctrine of

necessity."

Equally plain, and to the same effect, are the following passages from

the correspondence of Diderot, as quoted by Mr. Stewart: "Examine it

narrowly, and you will see that the word liberty is a word devoid of

meaning; that there are not, and that there cannot be, free beings;

that we are only what accords with the general order, with our

organization, our education, and the chain of events. These dispose

of us invincibly. We can no more conceive of a being acting without a

motive, than we can of one of the arms of a balance acting without a

weight. The motive is always exterior and foreign, fastened upon us by

some cause distinct from ourselves.... We have been so often praised

and blamed, and have so often praised and blamed others, that we

contract an inveterate prejudice of believing that we and they will and

act freely. But if there is no liberty, there is no action that merits

either praise or blame; neither vice nor virtue; nothing that ought

either to be rewarded or punished.... The doer of good is lucky, not

virtuous.... _Reproach others for nothing, and repent of nothing; this

is the first step to wisdom._"

_These Opinions not to be charged upon all Necessitarians._--It is

not to be supposed, of course, that all who deny the freedom of the

will, adopt the views above expressed. Whether such denial, however,

consistently followed out to its just and legitimate conclusions, does

not lead to such results, is another question.

§ II.--THE DIRECT ARGUMENT.

_Another Mode of Argument._--Thus far we have considered only the

presumptions in favor of the freedom of the will. We find them numerous

and strong. The question is, however, to be decided not by presumptions

for or against, but by direct argument based upon a careful inquiry

into the psychological facts of the case. To this let us now proceed,

bearing in mind, as we advance, what are the essential phenomena of the

will, as already ascertained, and what is meant by freedom of the will

as already defined.

_The Will free unless its appropriate Action is hindered._--It is

evident that, if we are right in our ideas of what freedom is, the

will is strictly and properly free, provided nothing interferes with,

and prevents, our putting forth such volitions as we please and choose

to put forth. The specific and appropriate action of the will, as we

have seen, is simply to put forth volitions. Whatever freedom it has,

then, must lie within that sphere, and not without it, must relate to

_that_, and not to _something else_; whatever restraint or want of

freedom it has, must also be found within these limits. My will is

free, when I can _will to do_ just what I _please_.

_Strength of Inclination, no Impediment._--If this be so, then it is

clear, 1. That mere _strength of inclination_ can by no means impair

the freedom of the will. Be the inclination never so strong, it matters

not. Nay, so far from interfering with freedom, it is an essential

element of it. Freedom presupposes and implies inclination. One is

surely none the less free because very strongly inclined to do as he

likes, provided he _can do_ what he wishes or prefers. This is as true

of the action of the will as of any other action.

_The Source of Inclination, of no Consequence to the present

Inquiry._--2. It is evident, furthermore, that freedom has nothing

to do with the _source_ of my inclinations, any more than with their

strength. It makes no difference what causes my preference, or

whether any thing causes it. I _have_ a preference, an inclination, a

disposition to do a given thing, and put forth a given volition--am

disposed to do it, and _can_ do it--then I am free, my will is free. It

is of no consequence _how I came_ by that inclination or disposition.

The simple question is, Am I at liberty to follow it?

_The Interference must be from without, and must affect the

Choice._--It is evident, moreover, according to what has now been said,

that if there be really any restraint upon the will, or lack of freedom

in its movements, it must proceed from something extraneous, outside

the will itself, something which comes in from without, and that in

such a way as to _interfere, in some way with my choice_; for it is

there that the element of freedom lies. But whatever interferes with

my choice, _interferes with my willing at all_; the act is no longer a

_voluntary_ act. Choice is essential to volition, the very element of

it. In order to an act of will as we have seen, there must be liberty

to choose, deliberation, actual preference. Volition presupposes them,

and is based on them. Whatever prevents them, prevents volition.

Whatever places me in such a state of mind that I have no preference at

all, no choice, as to any given thing, places me in such a state that

I have also no volition as to that thing. The question of freedom is

forestalled in such a case, becomes absurd. Where there is no volition,

there is of course no freedom of volition, nor yet any want of freedom.

Freedom of will is power to will as I like, but now I _have_ no liking,

no preference.

_The Supposition varied._--But suppose now that I am not prevented from

choosing, but only from carrying out my choice in actual volition;

from willing, according to my choice. Then, also, the act is no longer

properly a _volition_, an act of will, for one essential element of

every such act, viz., _choice_, is wanting. I _have_ a choice, indeed,

but it is not here, not represented in this so-called volition, lies

in another direction, is, in fact, altogether opposed to this, my

so-called volition. There _can be_ no such volition. The human mind is

a stranger to any such phenomenon, and if it did occur, it would not

be volition, not an act of the will, not a _voluntary_ act. Whatever,

then, comes in, either to prevent my choosing, or to prevent my

exercising volition _according_ to my choice, does, in fact, prevent my

willing at all. If there _be_ an act of the will, it is, in its very

nature, a _free_ act, and cannot be otherwise. Allow me to choose, and

to put forth volition according to my choice, and you leave me _free_.

Prevent this, and you prevent my willing at all.

_The Limitation, as usually regarded, not really one._--Those who

contend that the will is not free, _place the limitation back of

the choice_. Choice is governed by _inclination_, they say, and

inclination depends on _circumstances_, on education, habits, fashion,

etc., things, in great measure, _beyond our control_; and while these

circumstances remain the same, a man cannot choose otherwise than

he does. To this I reply, that, as we have already seen, the will

is strictly and properly free, _provided_ nothing interferes with,

and prevents, our putting forth such volitions as we _choose_ to put

forth. Is there, then, any thing in these circumstances which are

supposed to control our choice, and to be so fatal to our freedom, is

there in them any thing which really interferes with, or prevents our

willing as we _choose_? Does the fact that I am inclined, and strongly

so, to a given choice, prevent me from putting forth that choice in

the shape of executive volition? So far from this, that inclination

is the very circumstance that leads to my doing it. All that could

_possibly_ be contended, is that the supposed inclination to a given

choice is likely to prevent my having some _other_ and _different_

choice. But that has nothing to do with the question of the freedom of

my will, which depends, as we have seen, not on the power to choose

_otherwise_ than one is inclined, or than one likes, but _as_ he likes.

What force, I ask again, is there in any circumstance, or combination

of circumstances, which go to mould and shape my inclinations and my

disposition, and have no further power over me, what force in them, or

what tendency, to prevent my _willing as I choose_, _as_ I like, _as_ I

am inclined? Nay, if my will acts at all, it must, as I have shown, act

in this way, and therefore act freely.

_Freedom of Inclination not Freedom of Will._--But suppose I have

no power to _like_, or to be inclined, differently from what I do

like, and am now inclined? I reply, it matters not as to the present

question. The supposition now made, takes away or limits, not the

freedom of the will, it does not touch that; but the freedom of the

_affections_. Can I like what I do not like--and can I put forth such

volitions as I please or choose--are two distinct questions, and again

I repeat that the freedom of our will depends, _not_ on our having this

or that particular choice, but on our being able to carry out whatever

choice we do make into our volitions; _not_ on our being able to will

otherwise than we choose, nor yet on our ability to choose otherwise

than we do, but simply on our being able to will _as_ we choose,

whatever that choice may be.

_Are the Sensibilities Free._--Have I, in reality, however, any freedom

of the affections, any power _under given circumstances_, to be

affected otherwise than I am, to feel otherwise than I do? I reply, the

affections are not _elements_ of the will, are not under its immediate

control; are not strictly voluntary. It depends on a great variety of

circumstances, what, in any given case, your affections or inclinations

may be. You have no power of will _directly_ over them. You can modify

and shape them, only by shaping your own voluntary action so far as

that bears upon their formation. _By shaping your_ CHARACTER _which_

IS _under your control_, you may, in a manner, at least, determine

the nature and degree of the emotions which will arise, under given

circumstances, in your bosom.

_The two Questions entirely distinct._--But, however that may be, it

has nothing to do, I repeat, with the question now under discussion.

The freedom of the affections, and the freedom of the will, are by no

means the same thing. We have already seen that there may be a fixed

and positive connection between my inclinations and my choice, and so

my will, and yet my will be perfectly free. This is the main thing

to be settled; and there seems to be no need of further argument to

establish this point; and if this be so, it decides the question as to

the freedom of the will.

_Bearing of this View upon the divine Government._--The view now taken,

leaves it open and quite in the power of Providence, so to shape

circumstances, guide events, and so to array, and bring to bear on the

mind of man, motives and inducements to any given course, as virtually

to control and determine his conduct, by controlling and determining

his _inclinations_, and so his choice; while, at the same time, the man

is left perfectly free to put forth such volitions as he pleases, and

to do as he _likes_. There can be no higher liberty than this. To this

point I shall again revert, when the question comes up respecting the

divine agency in connection with human freedom.

CHAPTER IV.

CERTAIN QUESTIONS CONNECTED WITH THE PRECEDING.

§ I.--CONTRARY CHOICE.

_The Question stated._--In the preceding chapters our attention has

been directed to the psychological facts respecting the will, and also

to the general question respecting the freedom of the will. Closely

connected with this main question, and involved in its discussion, are

certain inquiries of a like nature, which cannot wholly be passed by,

and for the consideration of which the way is now prepared. One of

these respects _the power of contrary choice_. Have we any such power?

Is the freedom, which, as we have seen, belongs to the very nature

of the will, _such_ a freedom as allows of our choosing, under given

circumstances, any otherwise than we do? When I put forth a volition,

all other things being as they are, _can_ I, at that moment, in place

of that volition, put forth a different one in its stead?

_Not identical with the preceding._--This question is not identical

with that respecting the freedom of the will, for it has been already

shown that there may be true freedom without any such power as that now

in question. My will is free, provided I can put forth such volitions

as I please, irrespective of the power to substitute other volitions

and choices in place of the actual ones.

_Such Power not likely to be exercised._--The question, however, is one

of some importance, whether we have any such power or not. And whether

we have it or not, one thing is certain--we are not likely to exercise

it. If among the fixed and given things, which are to remain as they

are, we include whatever inclines or induces the mind to choose and

act as it does, then, power or no power to the contrary, the choice

_will_ be as it is, and would be so, if we were to try the experiment

a thousand times; for choice depends on these preceding circumstances

and inducements--the inclination of the mind--and if this is given,

and made certain, the choice to which it will lead becomes certain

also. A choice opposed to the existing inclination, to the sum total

of the existing inducements to action, is not a choice at all; it is

a contradiction in terms. The power of contrary choice, then, is one

which, from the nature of the case, will never be put in requisition,

unless something lying back of the choice, viz., inclination, be

changed also.

_But does such Power exist._--The question is not, however, whether

such a power is likely to be employed, but whether it _exists_; not

whether the choice _will be_ thus and thus, but whether it _can be_

otherwise. When, from various courses of procedure, all practicable,

and at my option, I select or choose one which, on the whole, I will

pursue, have I no _power_, under those very circumstances, and at that

very moment, to choose some other course instead of that? _Can_ my

choice be otherwise than it is?

_In what Sense there is such Power._--Abstractly, I suppose, it can.

Power and inclination are two different things. The power to act

is one thing, and the disposition to exert that power is another

thing. _Logically_, one does not involve the other. The power may

exist without the disposition, or the disposition without the power.

There is _power_, logically, abstractly considered, to choose, even

when inclination is wanting; you have only to supply the requisite

inclination, and the power is at once exerted, the choice is made, the

act is performed. But the change of inclination does not _create any

new power_; it simply puts in requisition a power already existing.

§ II.--POWER TO DO WHAT WE ARE NOT DISPOSED TO DO.

_The Question under another Form._--Closely analogous to the question

last discussed, virtually, indeed, the same question under another

form, is the inquiry, whether we can, at any moment, will or do what

we are not, at that moment, inclined to do. Have I any such power or

freedom as this, that _I_ CAN _do what I am not_ DISPOSED _or do not

wish to do?_ My disposition being to pursue a given course, is it

really in my _power_ to pursue a different one?

In order to determine this question, let us see what constitutes, or

in what consists, the _power_ of doing, in any case, what we _are_

disposed to do; and then we may be able to judge whether that power

still exists, in case the disposition is wanting.

_In what Power consists._--It is admitted that I _can_ do what I wish

or am disposed to do. Now, in what consists that power? That depends

on _what sort_ of act it is that I am to put forth. Suppose it be a

physical act. My power to do what I wish, in that case, consists in my

having certain physical organs capable of doing the given thing, and

under the command of my will. Suppose it be an intellectual act. My

power, in that case, of doing what I like, depends on my having such

mental faculties as are requisite for the performance of the given

act, and these under control. So long, then, as I have the faculties,

physical or mental, that are requisite to the performance of a given

act, and those faculties are under the control of my will, so that I

can exert them if I please, and when I please, so long my power of

doing what I like is unimpaired, and complete, as, _e. g._, the power

of walking, or adding a column of accounts.

_But suppose the Disposition wanting._--Suppose, now, the disposition

to be wanting; does the power also disappear, or does it remain? I

have the same faculties as before, and they are as fully under the

control of the will as ever, and that constitutes all the power I ever

had. I have the power, then, of doing what I have no inclination to

do. Whatever I can do if I like, that also I _can_ do, even if I do

_not_ like. In itself considered, the power to do a thing may be quite

complete, and independent of the inclination or disposition to do or

not to do.

_Will it be put in Requisition?_--But will this power be ever

exercised? Certainly not, so long as the disinclination continues. In

order to the doing of any thing, there must not only be _power_ to do

it, but _disposition_. If the latter be wanting, the former, though it

may exist, will never be put forth.

_Our Actions not consequently inevitable._--Have I, then, no power,

that is really available, to do what I do not happen to be, at this

moment, inclined to do? Am I shut up to the actual inclinations and

choices of any given hour or moment? Am I under the stern rule of

inevitable necessity and fate to do as I do, to choose as I choose,

to be inclined as I am inclined? By no means. My inclinations are

not fixed quantities. They may change. They depend, in part, on the

intellectual conceptions: these may vary; in part on the state of the

heart: divine grace may change the heart.

_Actual Choices not necessary ones._--The actual choice of any given

moment is by no means a necessary one. Another might have been in its

stead. A different inclination is certainly possible and conceivable,

and a different inclination _would_ have led to a different choice.

If, instead of looking at the advantage or agreeableness of a proposed

course, and being influenced by that consideration, I had looked at

the right, the obligation in the case, my choice would have been a

different one, for I should have been influenced by a different

motive. Two different objects were presented to my mind, _a_ and _b_.

As it is, I choose _a_, but _might_ have chosen _b_, and _should_, had

I been so inclined. Why did I choose _a_? Because, as the matter then

presented itself to my mind, I was so inclined. But I might have taken

a different view of the whole thing, and then my inclination and my

choice would have been different. It was in my power to have thought,

to have felt, to have acted differently. What is more, I not only

_might_, but, perhaps, _ought_ to have felt and acted differently. I am

responsible for having such an inclination as leads to a wrong choice

responsible for my opinions and views which influence my feelings;

responsible for my disposition, in so far as it is the result of causes

within my own control.

_Different Uses of the Term Power._--It ought to be clearly defined in

all such discussions _what we mean_ by the principal _terms_ employed.

In the present instance what we mean by the words _power_, _ability_,

_can_, etc., ought to be distinctly stated. Now, there are two senses

in which these words are used, and the question before us turns, in

part, on this difference.

1. We may use the word power, _e. g._, to denote all that is requisite

or essential to the _actual doing_ of a thing, whatever is so connected

with the doing, that, if it be wanting, the thing will not be done.

Or, 2. In a more limited sense, to denote merely all that is requisite

to the doing the thing, provided we please or choose to do it, all that

is requisite in order to our doing what we _like_ or wish.

The latter distinguishes between the _ability_ and the _willingness_ to

do; the former includes them both in the idea of power. In order to the

_actual doing_ there must be both. But does the word _power_ properly

include both? In ordinary language, certainly, we distinguish the two.

I _can_ do a thing, and I wish to do it, are distinct propositions, and

neither includes the other. It is only by a license of speech that

we sometimes say I _cannot_, when we mean simply, I have no wish or

disposition. If we make the distinction in question between power and

disposition, then we _can_ do what we have no wish to do. If we do not

make it, but include in the term power the disposition to exert the

power, then we _cannot_ do what we have no disposition to do.

§ III.--INFLUENCE OF MOTIVES

I. IS THE WILL ALWAYS AS THE GREATEST APPARENT GOOD?

_The Answer depends on the Meaning of the Question._--If by this be

meant simply whether the mind always wills as it is, on the whole,

and under all the circumstances, disposed or inclined to will, I have

already answered the question. If more than that be meant, if we mean

to ask whether we always, in volition, act with reference to the one

consideration of _advantage_ or utility, the good that is to accrue,

in some way, to ourselves or others from the given procedure--and

this is what the question seems to imply--I deny that this is so. I

have already shown, in presenting the psychological facts respecting

the will, that our motives of action are from two grand and diverse

sources: _desire_ and _duty_--_self-love_, or, at most such love as

involves mere natural emotion, and _sense of obligation_; that we do

not always act in view merely of the agreeable, but also in view of

the _right_, and that these two are not identical. Now the greatest

apparent good is not always the right; nor even the _apparent_ right.

We are conscious of the difference, and of acting, now from the one,

now from the other, of these motives. But to say that the will is

always according to the greatest apparent good, is to resolve all

volition into the pursuit of the agreeable, and all motives of action

into self-love. It is to merge the feeling of obligation in the feeling

of desire, and lose sight of it as in itself a distinct motive of

action.

_Defect in the Socratic Philosophy._--This was the capital defect in

the ethical system of Socrates, who held that men always pursue what

they think to be good, and, therefore, always do what they think is

right, since the good and the right are identical; sometimes, indeed,

mistaking an apparent good for a real one, but always doing as well

as they know how; from which it is but a short step to the conclusion

that sin is only so much ignorance, and virtue so much knowledge--a

conclusion to which the modern advocates of the doctrines under

discussion would by no means assent, but from which that shrewd thinker

and most consistent logician saw no escape.

II. IS THE WILL DETERMINED BY THE STRONGEST MOTIVE?

_The Term "strongest" as thus employed._--Much depends on what we mean

by "strongest" in this connection, and what by the word "determined?"

If we mean, by the strongest motive, the one which in a given case

prevails, that in view of which the mind decides and acts, then the

question amounts merely to this. Does the _prevalent_ motive actually

_prevail_? To say that it does, is much the same as to say, that a

straight stick is a straight stick. And what else can you mean by

strongest motive? What standard have you for measuring motives and

gauging their strength, except simply to judge of them by the _effects_

they produce? Or, who ever supposed that, of two motives, it was not

the stronger but the weaker one that in a given case prevailed?

_The Word "determined."_--The question may be made, however, to turn

upon the word _determined_. Is the will _determined_ by that motive

which prevails? Is it _determined_ at all by _any_ motive or by any

thing? If by this word it be meant or implied that the motive, and not

the mind itself is the producing cause of the mind's own action, then

I deny that the will _is, in any such sense_, determined, whether by

the strongest motive, or any other. The will is simply the mind or the

soul willing; its acts are determined by itself, and itself only. If

you mean simply that the motive _influences_ the will, prevails with

it, becomes the _reason why_ the will decides as it does, this I have

already shown to be true, and in this sense, undoubtedly, the motive

determines the volition, just as the fall of an apple from a tree is,

in the first instance, produced or caused by the law of gravitation;

but the particular direction which it takes in falling, depends on, and

is determined by, adventitious circumstances as, _e. g._, the obstacles

it meets in its descent. Those obstacles, in one sense, determine the

motion; they are the reason and explanation of the fact that it falls

_just as_ it does, and not otherwise; but they are not the producing

cause of the motion itself.

III. ARE MOTIVES THE CAUSE, AND VOLITIONS THE EFFECT?

_Incorrect Use of the Term Cause._--It is common, with a certain class

of writers, to speak of motive as the _cause_ of action or volition.

This is, if at all correct and allowable, certainly not a fortunate

use of terms. The agent is properly the _cause_ of any act, and in

volition the soul itself is the agent. It is the mind itself, which

is, strictly, the efficient cause of its own acts. The motive is the

_reason why_ I act, and not the producer or cause of my act. In common

speech, this distinction is not always observed. We say, I do such a

thing _because_ of this or that, meaning for such and such reasons. In

philosophical discussion it is necessary to be more exact.

_Liable to be misunderstood._--The use of the word, as now referred

to, is particularly to be avoided as liable to mislead the incautious

reader or hearer. It suggests the idea of physical necessity, of

_irresistibility_. Given, the law of gravitation, _e. g._, and a body

unsupported _must_ fall--no choice, no volition; whereas, the action of

the mind in volition is, by its essential nature, _voluntary_, directly

opposed to the idea of compulsion. Those who use the word in this

manner are generally careful to disclaim, it is true, any such sense;

but such are our associations with the word _cause_, as _ordinarily_

employed, that it is difficult to avoid sliding, unawares, into the old

and familiar idea of some sort of absolute physical necessity. It were

better to say, therefore, that motives are the reasons why we act thus

and thus. To go further than this, to call the motive the _cause_ of

the volition, is neither a correct nor a fortunate use of terms, since

the idea is thereby conveyed, guard against it as you will, that, in

some way, the influence was irresistible, the event unavoidable.

_The Phrase "moral Necessity."_--The same objections lie with still

greater force against the phrase _moral necessity_ as applied to this

subject. Those who use it are careful, for the most part, to define

their meaning, to explain that they do not mean necessity at all,

but only the _certainty_ of actions. The word itself, however, is

constantly contradicting all such explanations, constantly suggesting

another and much stronger meaning. That is necessary, properly

speaking, which depends not on my will or pleasure, which cannot be

avoided, but must be, and must be as it is. Now, to say of an act of

the will, that it is necessary, in this sense, is little short of a

contradiction in terms. The two ideas are utterly incongruous and

incompatible.

A volition may be certain to take place; it may be the motive that

makes it certain, but if this is all we mean, it is better to say just

this, and no more. If this is all we mean, then we do not mean that

volitions are necessary in any proper sense of that term. There is no

need to use the word necessity, and then explain that we do not mean

necessity, but only certainty. It is precisely on this unfortunate use

of terms that the strongest objections are founded, against the true

doctrine of the connection of motive with volition. Even Mill, one of

the ablest modern necessitarians, objects to the use of this term, and

urges its abandonment.

_The true Connection.--What, then, is the connection between Motive and

Volition?_--I have all along admitted, that there is such a connection

between volitions and motives, that the former never occur without

the latter, that they stand related as antecedent and consequent, and

that motives, while not the producing cause of volitions, are still

the _reason why_ the volitions are _as_ they are, and not otherwise.

They furnish the occasion of their existence, and the explanation

of their character. So much as this, the psychology of the subject

warrants--more than this it does not allow. More than this we seem to

assert, however, when we insist on saying that motive is the cause, and

volition the effect. We seem, however we may disclaim such intention,

to make the mind a mere mechanical instrument, putting forth volitions

only as it is impelled by motives, these, and not the mind, being the

real producing cause, and the volitions following irresistibly, just

as the knife or chisel is but the passive instrument in the hand of

the architect, and not at all the producing cause of the effects which

follow.

_Difference of the two Cases._--Now there is a vast difference between

these two cases. The impulse, communicated to the saw, produces

the effect irresistibly; not so the motive. The saw is a passive

instrument; not so the _mind_. There is, in either case, a fixed

connection between the antecedent and the consequent, but the _nature_

of the connection is widely different, and it is a difference of the

greatest moment. It is precisely the difference indicated by the

two words _cause_ and _reason_--as applied to account for a given

occurrence--the one applicable to material and mechanical powers and

processes, the other to intelligent, rational, voluntary agents.

There is a _cause_ why the apple falls. It is gravitation. There is a

_reason_ why mind acts and wills as it does. It is motive.

_But_ IS _the Mind the producing Cause of its own Volitions?_--This,

the advocates of moral necessity deny. "If we should thus cause a

volition," says Dr. Edwards, "we should doubtless cause it by a causal

act. It is impossible that we cause any thing without a causal act.

And as it is supposed that we cause it freely, the causal act must

be a free act, _i. e._, an act of the will, or volition. And as the

supposition is, that all our volitions are caused by ourselves, the

causal act must be caused by another, and so on infinitely, which is

both impossible and inconceivable." That is, if the mind causes its own

volitions, it can do it only by first acting to cause them, and that

causative act is, itself, a volition, and requires another causative

act to produce it, and so on ad infinitum.

_The Dictum Necessitatis proves too much._--This celebrated argument

has been called, not inappositely, the _dictum necessitatis_. It

rests upon the assumption, that no cause can act, but by first acting

to produce that act. Now this virtually shuts out _all_ cause from

the universe, or else involves us in the infinite series. Apply this

reasoning to any cause whatever, and see if it be not so. Suppose,

_e. g._, that _motive_, and not the mind itself, is the producing

cause of volition. Then, according to the dictum, motive cannot act,

but by first acting in order to act, and for that previous causative

act, there must have been an ulterior cause, and so on forever, in an

endless succession of previous causative acts.

_The Dictum as applicable to Mind._--But it may be said this dictum

applies only to mind, or voluntary action. How, then, is it known, that

mind cannot act without first acting in order to act? Would not this

virtually shut out and extinguish all mental action? The mind thinks;

must it first think, in order to think? It reasons, judges, conceives,

imagines; must it first reason, judge, etc., _in order_ to reason, and

judge, and conceive, and imagine? If not, then why may it not _will_

without first _willing_ to will?

_The Dictum as applicable to Deity._--If mind is not the cause of its

own volitions, then how is it with the volitions of the infinite and

eternal mind? Are they caused or uncaused? If caused, then by what?

If by himself, then there is again the infinitely recurring series

according to the dictum. If by something else, still we do not escape

the series, for each causative act must have its prior cause. Are the

volitions of Deity, then, _uncaused_? Then certainly there is no such

thing as cause in the universe. Motives, then, are no longer to be

called causes. Deity is not, in fact, the cause of any thing, since not

the cause of those volitions by which alone all things are produced. If

he is not the cause of these, then not the cause of their consequences

and effects. In either case, you shut out all cause from the universe,

whether the dictum be applied to mind or to motion, to man or to

God; or else you are, in either case, involved in the vortex of this

terrible infinitive series.

To give up the dictum, is to admit that mind may be the producing cause

of its own volitions.

CHAPTER V.

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. The minutest 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 some _plan_ of

operations. The very idea of _providence_, 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 government and

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, _where_ does 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 or _inclined_; and this inclination or disposition depends

on a great variety of circumstances, on the nature and strength of the

motive presented, our physical and mental 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 are _free_ in

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 governing men lies in this. We have only to

suppose a _like_ power, 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 the _hearts_ of 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

human _responsibility_? Not in 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 do _right_?

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 my _power_ to 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 replying

_no_, to these questions. Man has no power to change the current of his

own inclinations, nor yet to go against 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 the _volitions_ themselves.

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 no _power_ to do what he has no _disposition_ to 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 no _power_

to do what he is not _inclined_ to 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, the _power_ to do,

and the inclination to _exert_ that power; and that neither involves

the other. Where the power alone exists, the thing _can be_ done, but

_will not be_; where both exist, it both _can_ and _will_ be 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 and affections 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 the _direct_ and _immediate_ control 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 not _necessary_ that they _should_, nor

_certain_ that they _will_, remain as they are.

_The true Answer._--To the question, then, _can_ the man whose

inclinations are to evil, whose heart is wrong, do right? a true

psychology answers _yes_. He _can_ do 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 man _will_ continue to do evil, notwithstanding

all his _power_ to 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 shall _incline_ him to obedience,

that shall make him _willing_ to obey.

_The Gospel meets this Necessity._--This is precisely the want of his

nature which divine grace meets. It creates within him a _clean heart_,

and renews within him a _right spirit_. This is the sublime mystery of

regeneration. The soul that is thus born of God is made _willing_ to 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

the _heart_; 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 perfect

_coincidence_ of the two is an argument in favor of each.

CHAPTER VI.

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 their minds 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, this _rock_ shall fly

From its firm base, as soon as _I_."

_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 our own 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

will _determined_ to 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 heroic _actions_, it leads

also to heroic _endurance_ and 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 of _obstinacy_, which is the refusal to

correct a mistake, or acknowledge an error, or listen to the wiser and

better counsels of others.

CHAPTER VII.

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. The

_Epicureans_, although asserting human liberty in opposition to the

doctrine of universal and inexorable _fate_, 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, the _necessary 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

suppose _an effect without a cause_.

On the other hand, the _Stoics_, while maintaining the doctrine of

_fate_, 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,

called _Kadrites_, from the word _kadr_, 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 of

_dissenters_, 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 of the will, while many

allowed only what they called the liberty of _spontaneity_, _i. e._,

power to _do_ as we will, in opposition to liberty of _indifference_,

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 of _Hobbes_ seem 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's_ idea 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 preferred to 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 be _volition_ where 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 the _sufficient reason_, that is,

that nothing occurs without a _reason why_ it 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 to _choose_ one 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, by the

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 deny _liberty_ in a certain

meaning of the word, yet I contend for _liberty_ as it signifies a

_power in man to do as he wills or pleases_. Secondly, when I affirm

_necessity_, I contend only for _moral 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 an _absolute_, _physical_,

or _mechanical 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 therein

maintained, 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 liberty _merely a power to do as one wills_. The mind is

always determined by the greatest apparent good. The motive determines

the act, _causes_ it. The mind acts, wills, chooses, etc., but the

motive is the _cause_ of 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 famous _dictum 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 the _same nature_ as 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 of _necessity_. But

what did he mean by _moral necessity_? The phrase is unfortunate, for

reasons already suggested--it does convey the idea of irresistibility,

of something which _must_ and _will be_--in spite of all contrary will

and endeavor. This, however, he is careful to disclaim. He means by

moral and philosophical necessity simple CERTAINTY, "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 will _certainly_ follow, 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 necessity_

IMPROPERLY; 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 and moral necessity "lies _not so much_ IN THE NATURE of 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 the _same nature_ with 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, to _will and to choose as he pleases_, what becomes of the

_dictum_, 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 between

_will_ and _desire_, 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 to _run 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 is the 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 of _consciousness_, 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 a _fact_, an immediate dictum of consciousness, while, at the

same time, he is unable to _conceive_ of 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 "an

_infinite 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 the same 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. A _nature_, 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 a _rational_ or 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 proportioned to 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 is _self-moved_. It makes its nisus of

itself, and of itself it forbears to make it, and within the sphere

of its activity, and in relation to its objects, it has the power of

selecting, by a mere arbitrary act, any particular object. It is a

cause, all whose acts, as well as any particular act, considered as

phenomena demanding a cause, are accounted for _in 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 the _effect_ of any

thing, whether motive of mind, in the sense that motion of the arm is

an effect. It is _activity_, _action_, _the cause of action_, but not

_effect_. In distinction from most writers of the same theological

views, he denies that the will is _self-determined_, or that it is

_determined at all_, and by any thing. It is the _determiner_, but not

the _determined_.

REFERENCES.

Among the authorities which have been consulted in the preparation of

this work, the following may be referred to, with profit, by the reader

who desires to pursue the subject further.

I. THE INTELLECT.

A. ON THE INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES IN GENERAL.

_Locke._--Essays on the Human Understanding.

_Reid._--Essays on the Intellectual Powers. Walker Ed.

" Works.--By _Hamilton_, with _notes and dissertations_.

_Dugald Stewart._--Philosophy of the Human Mind. Bowen Ed.

" Philosophical Essays.

_Brown._--Lectures on the Philosophy of the Mind.

The works of _Upham_, _Wayland_, _Winslow_, _Mahan_, may

also be consulted, with profit.

_Cousin._--Cours de, 1828. Id., 1829.

" Fragments Philosophiques.

_Jouffroy._--Mélanges Philosophiques. Nouvelles Mélanges.

" Esquisses de D. Stewart. Préface.

_Descartes._--Méditations. Id., Discours de la Métnode.

_Leibnitz._--Nouveaux Essais sur l'Entendement Humain.

_Malebranche._--Recherche de la Vérité.

_Royer Collard._--OEuvres de Reid. Fragments.

_Damiron._--Cours de Philosophie.

_Hegel._--Encyklopädie der Philosoph. Wissenchaft.

_Rosenkrantz._--Psychologie.

_Kant._--Anthropologie. Kritik Reiner Vernunft.

" Kritik der Urtheilskraft.

_Aristotle._--Metaphysics.

" On the Soul.

_Plato._--Republic.

_Cicero._--Tusculanæ Questiones.

B. ON THE SPECIFIC FACULTIES.

I. SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.

_Reid._--Intellectual Powers.

_Hamilton._--Supplementary Dissertation, Note D.

_O. Wight._--Philosophy of Sir W. Hamilton. Part II.

_Stewart._--Philosophical Essays. Ess. II.

Brown.--Philosophy of Human Mind.

_Mill._--Analysis of Human Mind.

_A. Smith._--Essays on Philosophical Subjects. Of the External Senses.

_Young._--Lectures on Intellectual Philosophy.

_Comte._--Philosophy Positive.

_Müller._--Elements of Physiology.

_Tissot._--Anthropologie.

_Maine de Biran._--Nouvelles Considerations sur les Rapports, etc.

_Jouffroy._--Nouvelles Mélanges Philosophiques.

_Royer Collard._--Fragments in Jouffroy's OEuvres de Reid.

_Tortual._--Die Sinne des Menschen.

_Buffier._--Traité des Premières Vérités.

_Amédée Jacques._--Psychologie. Manuel de Phil. à l'usage des Coll.

_Dictionnaire des Sciences Philosophiques._ Art. Sens.

_Aristotle._--De Anima. Parva Naturalia.

_J. Barth. Saint Hilaire._--Psychologie de Aristotle. Notes and preface.

II. MEMORY.

_Stewart._--Intellectual Philosophy.

_Reid._--Intellectual Powers. (Walker.)

_Brown._--Philosophy of Human Mind.

_Mill._--Analysis of Human Mind.

_Abercrombie._--On Intellectual Powers.

_Hume._--Treatise on Human Nature. Book I. Part I.

_Aristotle._--Parva Naturalia.

_Barthèleme Saint Hilaire._--Psychologie d'Aristotle. Part II.

_Malebranche._--Recherche de la Vérité. Liv. II.

_Rosenkrantz._--Psychologie.

_Hegel._--Encycl. Phil. Wissench. Dritter Theil.

III. IMAGINATION.

_Stewart._--Intellectual Philosophy.

_Brown._--Philosophy of Human Mind.

_Rauch._--Psychologie. Part II.

_Sidney Smith._--Sketches of Philosophy.

_Mill._--Analysis of Human Mind.

_Amédée Jacques._--Manuel de Philosophie. Psychol. V.

_Rosenkrantz._--Psychologie. _Die Einbildungskraft._

_Hegel._--Encyc. der Phil. Wissenchaft. Dritter Theil. _L's Einbildung._

IV. ABSTRACTION AND GENERALIZATION.

_Reid._--Intellectual Powers.

_Brown._--Philosophy of Human Mind.

_Stewart._--Intellectual Philosophy.

_A. Smith._--Considerations on First Formation of Language.

_J. S. Mill._--System of Logic.

_Whewell_.--Philosophy of Inductive Sciences.

_James Mill._--Analysis of Human Mind.

_Thomson._--Laws of Thought.

_Cousin._--Elements of Psychology. (Henry.)

_Hume._--Treatise of Human Nature. Book I. Part I.

V. REASONING.

_Hamilton._--Supplementary Dissertation, Note A.

_Reid._--Intellectual Powers.

_Stewart._--Intellectual Philosophy. Part II.

_Locke._--On the Human Understanding. Book IV.

_Whewell._--Philosophy of Inductive Sciences.

_Buffier._--Premières Vérités.

_Brown._--Philosophy of Human Mind.

_Mill._--System of Logic.

_Hamilton._--Discussions on Philosophy. (Turnbull Ed.) Article IV, Logic;

also Appendix II. A and B.

_Baynes._--New Analytic of Logical Forms.

_Descartes._--Discours de la Méthode.

_Condillac._--Art de Penser.

_Dictionnaire des Sciences Philosophiques._ Logique.

_Pascal._--Pensées--de l'Art de Persuader.

_Port-Royal._--Logique.

_Aristotle._--Organon.

VI. INTUITIVE CONCEPTION.

FIRST PRINCIPLES.

_Reid._--Intellectual Powers. Essay VI., cap. III.

_Hamilton._--Dissertation A. §§ 3, 4, 5.

_Stewart._--Intellectual Philosophy. Part II., cap. I.

_Coleridge._--Aids to Reflection.

_Mill._--System of Logic. Book II., caps. V. and VI.

_Buffier._--Premières Vérités. Part I., cap. VII.

TIME, SPACE.

_Cousin._--Cours de Philosophie. Tome II., Leçons XVII, XVIII.

" Idem. Elements of Psychologie. Henry. Cap. III.

_Locke._--Essay on the Human Understanding. Book II., cap. XXVI.

_Stewart._--Philosophical Essays. Essay II., cap. II.

_Reid._--Intellectual Powers. Essay III., cap. II.

_Mill._--Analysis of the Human Mind. Cap. XIV., § V.

_Roger Collard._--Fragments, IX., X.

_Kant._--Kritik rein. vernunft. Transcend. Æsthet. Part I., § II.

_Dictionnaire des Sciences Philosophiques._ Temps. Espace.

_Hegel._--Encyclop. Philosoph. Wissench. Tsweiter Theil.

Erst. Abschnitt.

IDENTITY.

_Locke._--Essay, etc. Book II., cap. XXVII.

_Cousin._--Review of do. as above. Eléments Psychologie, cap. III.

_Reid._--Intellectual Powers. Essay III., cap. III.

_Mill._--Analysis, etc., cap. XIV., § VII.

_Whately._--Logic--Appendix. On Ambiguous Terms.

_Butler._--Dissertation on Identity.

CAUSALITY.

_Mill._--System of Logic. Book III., cap. XXI.

_Whewell._--Philosophy of Inductive Sciences. Part I. Book III.

_Locke._--Essay. Book II., cap. XXVI.

_Tappan._--On the Will. Cap. II. Cause.

_Bowen._--Metaphysics and Ethics.

_Maine de Biran._--Examples des Leçons de Philosophie de

Laromiquière.

_Cousin._--OEuvres de Maine Biran. Preface.

As above. El. Psychologie. cap. IV.

THE BEAUTIFUL.

_Kames._--Elements of Criticism.

_Alison._--On Taste.

_McDermot._--On Taste.

_Stewart._--Philosophical Essays. Part II.

_Brown._--Philosophy of the Human Mind. _Emotions of Beauty._

_Jouffroy._--Cours d'Esthetique.

_Cousin._--Philosophy of the Beautiful. (Daniel, Trans.)

_Kant._--Kritik der Urtheilskraft.

_Hegel._--Cours d'Esthetique. (Benard, Tr.)

THE RIGHT.

_Stewart._--Active and Moral Powers. (Walker Ed.)

_Brown._--Philosophy of the Human Mind. Ethical Science.

_Butler._--Sermons.

_Paley._--Moral Philosophy.

_Adam Smith._--Theory of Moral Sentiments.

_Upham._--Mental Philosophy. Vol. II.

_Winslow._--Elements of Moral Philosophy.

_Wayland._--Moral Philosophy.

_Whewell._--Elements of Morality.

_Jouffroy._--Introduction to Ethics. (Channing, Tr.)

" Cours de Droit Natural.

_Emile Saisset._--Manuel de Philosophie à l'usage des Coll.

_Morals._

_Descartes._--Lettres.

_Cicero._--De Officiis.

_Aristotle._--Nicom. Eth.

_Plato._--Republic and Gorgias.

II. THE SENSIBILITIES

_Stewart._--Active and Moral Powers. (Walker Ed.)

_Reid._--Faculties of the Human Mind. Essay III.

_Brown._--Philosophy of the Human Mind. _Emotions._

_Upham._--Mental Philosophy. Vol. II.

_Cogan._--On the Passions.

_Descartes._--Les Passions de l'Âme.

_Condillac._--Traité des Sensations.

_Damiron._--Cours de Philosophie. _De la Sensibilitè._

_Jouffroy._--Mélanges Philosophiques. _De l'Amour de Soi._

_Aristotle._--On the Soul. Books II. and III.

III. THE WILL.

_Edwards._--On the Will.

_Tappan._--Review of do.

_Day._--Review of do.

_Bledsoe._--Examination of do.

_I. Taylor._--Essay introductory to do.

_Tappan._--On the Will. and do. on Moral Agency.

_Mahan._--On the Will.

_Upham._--On the Will.

_Reid._--On the Faculties of the Human Soul. Essay IV.

_Belsham._--Philosophy of the Human Mind.

_Mill._--System of Logic. Book VI., cap. II.

_Mill._--Analysis of the Human Mind. Cap. XXIV.

_Cogan._--Ethical Questions. Question IV.

_Stewart._--Active and Moral Powers. Cap. VI.

_Reid._--Essays on Active Powers. Essay II.

_Locke._--On the Human Understanding. Book II., cap. XXI.

_Hamilton._--Philosophy of the Conditioned, cap. II., § 1.

(O. W. Wight.)

_Jouffroy._--Introduction to Ethics, § IV.

_Leibnitz._--Essays de Théodicée.

_Cousin._--Fragments Philosophiques. Preface.

_Amédée Jacques._--Manuel de Phil. _Psychologie._

_Volonté._ XV.-XVII.

_Maine de Biran._--OEuvres. Vol. IV.

" Controversy with Clarke.

_Cousin._--Psychologie. (Henry, Tr.) Cap. X.

_Damiron._--Psychologie. Liv. I., § II., cap. III.

_Emile Saisset._--Dictionnaire des Sciences Philosophiques.

Art. _Libertè._

* * * * *

Transcriber's note:

Many omissions of punctuation have been silently corrected,

as have obvious typographical errors.

Variations in spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have

been retained.

Inconsistencies in headings are as in the original.

Duplicated section headings on consecutive lines have

been removed.

The section General Observations (page 94 and 162) has

been added to the Table of Contents.

References has been added to the Table of Contents.

Corrections include:

Page 55 "as that two straight lines should enclose a space"

the "a" is missing in the original and has been added.

Page 89 "The soul seated in its presence-chamber, the brain,

can cognize nothing beyond and without, for nothing can

get except where it is present." the first letter of "get"

is missing. It has been assumed that get is the most

likely intention.

Page 435 No reference to Memdelssohn has been found. It

is possibly a reference Moses Mendelssohn.

Page 568 "In order to do this, there is needed an influence

from without," The "do" is missing and has been added.

The text is arbitrary about spacing of e. g. and i. e., as

the spaced variant is in the majority, it has been used

throughout.

The author has wrongly spelled Leibniz as Leibnitz

throughout. This has been retained.

The references to M'Dermot in the text have been changed

to McDermot to conform with the References. Likewise

M'Cosh (p534) is almost certainly James McCosh.