Produced by Keith G Richardson
A REVIEW OF EDWARDS'S
"INQUIRY
INTO THE
FREEDOM OF THE WILL."
CONTAINING
I. STATEMENT OF EDWARDS'S SYSTEM.
II. THE LEGITIMATE CONSEQUENCES OF THIS SYSTEM.
III. AN EXAMINATION OF THE ARGUMENTS AGAINST A SELF-DETERMINING WILL.
BY HENRY PHILIP TAPPAN.
"I am afraid that Edwards's book (however well meant,) has done much
harm in England, as it has secured a favourable hearing to the same
doctrines, which, since the time of Clarke, had been generally ranked
among the most dangerous errors of Hobbes and his disciples."--_Dugald
Stewart_.
NEW-YORK:
JOHN S. TAYLOR,
THEOLOGICAL PUBLISHER AND BOOKSELLER, BRICK CHURCH CHAPEL,
1839.
Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1839, by HENRY
PHILIP TAPPAN, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United
States, for the Southern District of New-York.
G. F. Hopkins, Printer, 2 Ann-street.
INTRODUCTION.
Discussions respecting the will, have, unhappily, been confounded with
theological opinions, and hence have led to theological controversies,
where predilections for a particular school or sect, have generally
prejudged the conclusions of philosophy. As a part of the mental
constitution, the will must be subjected to the legitimate methods of
psychological investigation, and must abide the result. If we enter the
field of human consciousness in the free, fearless, and honest spirit of
Baconian observation in order to arrive at the laws of the reason or the
imagination, what should prevent us from pursuing the same enlightened
course in reference to the will?
Is it because responsibility and the duties of morality and religion are
more immediately connected with the will? This, indeed, throws solemnity
around our investigations, and warns us of caution; but, at the same
time, so far from repressing investigation, it affords the highest
reason why we should press it to the utmost limit of consciousness.
Nothing surely can serve more to fix our impressions of moral
obligation, or to open our eye to the imperishable truth and excellency
of religion, than a clear and ripe knowledge of that which makes us the
subjects of duty. As a believer in philosophy, I claim unbounded liberty
of thought, and by thinking I hope to arrive at truth. As a believer in
the Bible I always anticipate that the truths to which philosophy leads
me, will harmonize with its facts and doctrines. If in the result there
should appear to be a collision, it imposes upon me the duty of
re-examining both my philosophy and my interpretation of the text. In
this way I may in the end remove the difficulty, and not only so, but
even gain from the temporary and apparent collision, a deeper insight
into both philosophy and religion. If the difficulty cannot be removed,
then it remains a vexed point. It does not follow, however, that I must
either renounce the philosophical conclusion, or remove the text.
If the whole of philosophy or its leading truths were in opposition to
the whole of revelation or its leading truths, we should then evidently
be placed on the alternative of denying one or the other; but as the
denial of philosophy would be the destruction of reason, there would no
longer remain in our being any principle on which a revelation could be
received. Such a collision would therefore disprove the claims of any
system to be from Heaven. But let us suppose, on the other hand, that
with every advance of philosophy the facts of the Bible are borne aloft,
and their divine authority and their truth made more manifest, have we
not reason to bless the researches which have enabled us to perceive
more clearly the light from Heaven? A system of truth does not fear, it
courts philosophical scrutiny. Its excellency will be most resplendent
when it has had the most fiery trial of thought. Nothing would so weaken
my faith in the Bible as the fact of being compelled to tremble for its
safety whenever I claimed and exercised the prerogative of reason. And
what I say of it as a whole, I say of doctrines claiming to be derived
from it.
Theologists are liable to impose upon themselves when they argue from
the truths of the Bible to the truths of their philosophy; either under
the view that the last are deducible from the former, or that they serve
to account for and confirm the former. How often is their philosophy
drawn from some other source, or handed down by old authority, and
rendered venerable by associations arbitrary and accidental; and instead
of sustaining the simplicity of the Bible, the doctrine is perhaps cast
into the mould of the philosophy.
It is a maxim commended by reason and confirmed by experience, that in
pursuing our investigations in any particular science we are to confine
ourselves rigorously to its subjects and methods, neither seeking nor
fearing collision with any other science. We may feel confident that
ultimately science will be found to link with science, forming a
universal and harmonious system of truth; but this can by no means form
the principle of our particular investigations. The application of this
maxim is no less just and necessary where a philosophy or science holds
a relation to revelation. It is a matter of the highest interest that in
the developements of such philosophy or science, it should be found to
harmonize with the revelation; but nevertheless this cannot be received
as the principle on which we shall aim to develope it. If there is a
harmony, it must be discovered; it cannot be invented and made.
The Cardinals determined upon the authority of Scripture, as they
imagined, what the science of astronomy must be, and compelled the old
man Gallileo to give the lie to his reason; and since then, the science
of geology has been attempted, if not to be settled, at least to be
limited in its researches in the same way. Science, however, has pursued
her steady course resistlessly, settling her own bounds and methods, and
selecting her own fields, and giving to the world her own discoveries.
And is the truth of the Bible unsettled? No. The memory of Gallileo and
of Cuvier is blessed by the same lips which name the name of Christ.
Now we ask the same independence of research in the philosophy of the
human mind, and no less with respect to the Will than with respect to
any other faculty. We wish to make this purely a psychological question.
Let us not ask what philosophy is demanded by Calvinism in opposition to
Pelagianism and Arminianism, or by the latter in opposition to the
former; let us ask simply for the laws of our being. In the end we may
present another instance of truth honestly and fearlessly sought in the
legitimate exercise of our natural reason, harmonizing with truths
revealed.
One thing is certain; the Bible no more professes to be a system of
formal mental philosophy, than it professes to contain the sciences of
astronomy and geology. If mental philosophy is given there, it is given
in facts of history, individual and national, in poetry, prophecy, law,
and ethics; and as thus given, must be collected into a system by
observation and philosophical criticism.
But observations upon these external facts could not possibly be made
independently of observations upon internal facts--the facts of the
consciousness; and the principles of philosophical criticism can be
obtained only in the same way. To him who looks not within himself,
poetry, history, law, ethics, and the distinctions of character and
conduct, would necessarily be unintelligible. No one therefore can
search the Bible for its philosophy, who has not already read philosophy
in his own being. We shall find this amply confirmed in the whole
history of theological opinion. Every interpreter of the Bible, every
author of a creed, every founder of a sect, plainly enough reveals both
the principles of his philosophy and their influence upon himself. Every
man who reflects and aims to explain, is necessarily a philosopher, and
has his philosophy. Instead therefore of professing to oppose the Bible
to philosophy, or instead of the pretence of deducing our philosophy
solely and directly from the Bible, let us openly declare that we do not
discard philosophy, but seek it in its own native fields; and that
inasmuch as it has a being and a use, and is related to all that we know
and do, we are therefore determined to pursue it in a pure, truth-loving
spirit.
I am aware, however, that the doctrine of the will is so intimately
associated with great and venerable names, and has so long worn a
theological complexion, that it is well nigh impossible to disintegrate
it. The authority of great and good men, and theological interests, even
when we are disposed to be candid, impartial, and independent, do often
insensibly influence our reasonings.
It is out of respect to these old associations and prejudices, and from
the wish to avoid all unnecessary strangeness of manner in handling an
old subject, and more than all, to meet what are regarded by many as the
weightiest and most conclusive reasonings on this subject, that I open
this discussion with a review of "Edwards's Inquiry into the Freedom of
the Will." There is no work of higher authority among those who deny the
self-determining power of the will; and none which on this subject has
called forth more general admiration for acuteness of thought and
logical subtlety. I believe there is a prevailing impression that
Edwards must be fairly met in order to make any advance in an opposite
argument. I propose no less than this attempt, presumptuous though it
may seem, yet honest and made for truth's sake. Truth is greater and
more venerable than the names of great and venerable men, or of great
and venerable sects: and I cannot believe that I seek truth with a
proper love and veneration, unless I seek her, confiding in herself
alone, neither asking the authority of men in her support, nor fearing a
collision with them, however great their authority may be. It is my
interest to think and believe aright, no less than to act aright; and as
right action is meritorious not when compelled and accidental, but when
free and made under the perception and conviction of right principles;
so also right thinking and believing are meritorious, either in an
intellectual or moral point of view, when thinking and believing are
something more than gulping down dogmas because Austin, or Calvin, or
Arminius, presents the cup.
Facts of history or of description are legitimately received on
testimony, but truths of our moral and spiritual being can be received
only on the evidence of consciousness, unless the testimony be from God
himself; and even in this case we expect that the testimony, although it
may transcend consciousness, shall not contradict it. The internal
evidence of the Bible under the highest point of view, lies in this:
that although there be revelations of that which transcends
consciousness, yet wherever the truths come within the sphere of
consciousness, there is a perfect harmony between the decisions of
developed reason and the revelation.
Now in the application of these principles, if Edwards have given us a
true psychology in relation to the will, we have the means of knowing
it. In the consciousness, and in the consciousness alone, can a doctrine
of the will be ultimately and adequately tested. Nor must we be
intimidated from making this test by the assumption that the theory of
Edwards alone sustains moral responsibility and evangelical religion.
Moral responsibility and evangelical religion, if sustained and
illustrated by philosophy, must take a philosophy which has already on
its own grounds proved itself a true philosophy. Moral responsibility
and evangelical religion can derive no support from a philosophy which
they are taken first to prove.
But although I intend to conduct my argument rigidly on psychological
principles, I shall endeavour in the end to show that moral
responsibility is really sustained by this exposition of the will; and
that I have not, to say the least, weakened one of the supports of
evangelical religion, nor shorn it of one of its glories.
The plan of my undertaking embraces the following particulars:
I. A statement of Edwards's system.
II. The legitimate consequences of this system.
III. An examination of the arguments against a self-determining will.
IV. The doctrine of the will determined by an appeal to consciousness.
V. This doctrine viewed in connexion with moral agency and
responsibility.
VI. This doctrine viewed in connexion with the truths and precepts of
the Bible.
The first three complete the review of Edwards, and make up the present
volume. Another volume is in the course of preparation.
I.
A STATEMENT OF EDWARDS'S SYSTEM.
Edwards's System, or, in other words, his Philosophy of the Will, is
contained in part I. of his "Inquiry into the Freedom of the Will." This
part comprises five sections, which I shall give with their titles in
his own order. My object is to arrive at truth. I shall therefore use my
best endeavours to make this statement with the utmost clearness and
fairness. In this part of my work, my chief anxiety is to have Edwards
perfectly understood. My quotations are made from the edition published
by S. Converse, New-York, 1829.
"Sec. I.--Concerning the Nature of the Will."
Edwards under this title gives his definition of the will. "_The will
is, that by which the mind chooses anything_. The faculty of the _will_,
is that power, or principle of mind, by which it is capable of choosing:
an act of the _will_ is the same as an act of _choosing_ or _choice_."
(p. 15.)
He then identifies "choosing" and "refusing:" "In every act of refusal
the mind chooses the absence of the thing refused." (p. 16.)
The will is thus _the faculty of choice_. Choice manifests itself either
in relation to one object or several objects. Where there is but one
object, its possession or non-possession--its enjoyment or
non-enjoyment--its presence or absence, is chosen. Where there are
several objects, and they are so incompatible that the possession,
enjoyment, or presence of one, involves the refusal of the others, then
choice manifests itself in fixing upon the particular object to be
retained, and the objects to be set aside.
This definition is given on the ground that any object being regarded as
positive, may be contrasted with its negative: and that therefore the
refusing a negative is equivalent to choosing a positive; and the
choosing a negative, equivalent to refusing a positive, and vice versa.
Thus if the presence of an object be taken as positive, its absence is
negative. To refuse the presence is therefore to choose the absence; and
to choose the presence, to refuse the absence: so that every act of
choosing involves refusing, and every act of refusing involves choosing;
in other words, they are equivalents.
_Object of Will._
The object in respect to which the energy of choice is manifested,
inducing external action, or the action of any other faculty of the
mind, is always an _immediate object_. Although other objects may appear
desirable, that alone is the object of choice which is the occasion of
present action--that alone is chosen as the subject of thought on which
I actually think--that alone is chosen as the object of muscular
exertion respecting which muscular exertion is made. That is, every act
of choice manifests itself by producing some change or effect in some
other part of our being. "The thing next chosen or preferred, when a man
wills to walk, is not his being removed to such a place where he would
be, but such an exertion and motion of his legs and feet, &c. in order
to it." The same principle applies to any mental exertion.
_Will and Desire._
Edwards never opposes will and desire. The only distinction that can
possibly be made is that of genus and species. They are the same in
_kind_. "I do not suppose that _will_ and _desire_ are words of
precisely the same signification: _will_ seems to be a word of a more
general signification, extending to things present and absent. _Desire_
respects something absent. But yet I cannot think they are so entirely
distinct that they can ever be properly said to run counter. A man
never, in any instance, wills anything contrary to his desires, or
desires anything contrary to his will. The thing which he wills, the
very same he desires; and he does not will a thing and desire the
_contrary_ in any particular." (p. 17.) The immediate object of
will,--that object, in respect of which choice manifests itself by
producing effects,--is also the object of desire; that is, of supreme
desire, at that moment: so that, the object chosen is the object which
appears most desirable; and the object which appears most desirable is
always the object chosen. To produce an act of choice, therefore, we
have only to awaken a preponderating desire. Now it is plain, that
desire cannot be distinguished from passion. That which we love, we
desire to be present, to possess, to enjoy: that which we hate, we
desire to be absent, or to be affected in some way. The loving an
object, and the desiring its enjoyment, are identical: the hating it,
and desiring its absence or destruction, or any similar affection of it,
are likewise identical. The will, therefore, is not to be distinguished,
at least in _kind_, from the emotions and passions: this will appear
abundantly as we proceed. In other works he expressly identifies them:
"I humbly conceive, that the affections of the soul are not properly
distinguishable from the will; as though they were two faculties of
soul." (Revival of Religion in New England, part I.)
"God has endued the soul with two faculties: one is that by which it is
capable of perception and speculation, or by which it discerns, and
views, and judges of things; which is called the understanding. The
other faculty is that by which the soul does not merely perceive and
view things, but is in some way inclined with respect to the things it
views or considers; either is inclined _to them_, or is disinclined or
averse _from them_. This faculty is called by various names: it is
sometimes called _inclination_; and as it has respect to the actions
that are determined or governed by it, is called will. The _will_ and
the _affections_ of the soul are not two faculties: the affections are
not essentially distinct from the will, nor do they differ from the mere
actings of the will and inclination of the soul, but only in the
liveliness and sensibleness of exercise." (The Nature of the Affections,
part I.) That Edwards makes but two faculties of the mind, the
understanding and the will, as well as identifies the will and the
passions, is fully settled by the above quotation.
"Sec. II.--Concerning the Determination of Will."
_Meaning of the term._
"By _determining_ the will, if the phrase be used with any meaning, must
be intended, _causing_ that the act of the will or choice should be thus
and not otherwise; and the will is said to be determined, when in
consequence of some action or influence, its choice is directed to, and
fixed upon, some particular object. As when we speak of the
determination of motion, we mean causing the motion of the body to be in
such a direction, rather than in another. The determination of the will
supposes an effect, which must have a cause. If the will be determined,
there is a determiner."
Now the causation of choice and the determination of the will are here
intended to be distinguished, no more than the causation of motion and
the determination of the moving body. The cause setting a body in
motion, likewise gives it a direction; and where there are several
causes, a composition of the forces takes place, and determines both the
extent and direction of the motion. So also the cause acting upon the
will or the faculty of choice, in producing a choice determines its
direction; indeed, choice cannot be conceived of, without also
conceiving of something chosen, and where something is chosen, the
direction of the choice is determined, that is, the will is determined.
And where there are several causes acting upon the will, there is here
likewise a composition of the mental forces, and the choice or the
determination of the will takes place accordingly. (See p. 23.) Choice
or volition then being an effect must have a cause. What is this cause?
_Motive._
The cause of volition or choice is called motive. A cause setting a body
in motion is properly called the motive of the body; hence, analogously,
a cause exciting the will to choice is called the motive of the will. By
long usage the proper sense of motive is laid aside, and it has come now
to express only the cause or reason of volition. "By _motive_ I mean the
whole of that which moves, excites, or invites the mind to volition,
whether that be one thing singly, or many things conjointly. And when I
speak of the _strongest motive_, I have respect to the strength of the
whole that operates to induce a particular act of volition, whether that
be the strength of one thing alone, or of many together." And "_that
motive which, as it stands in view of the mind, is the strongest,
determines the will_." (p. 19.) This is general, and means nothing more
than--1. the cause of volition is called motive; 2. that where there are
several causes or motives of volition, the strongest cause prevails; 3.
the cause is often complex; 4. in estimating the strength of the cause,
if it be complex, all the particulars must be considered in their
co-operation; and, 5. the strength of the motive "stands in view of the
mind," that is, it is something which the mind knows or is sensible of.
_What constitutes the strength of Motive?_
"Everything that is properly called a motive, excitement, or inducement,
to a perceiving, willing agent, has some sort and degree of _tendency_
or _advantage_ to move or excite the will, previous to the effect, or to
the act of will excited. This previous tendency of the motive is what I
call the _strength_ of the motive." When different objects are presented
to the mind, they awaken certain emotions, and appear more or less
"inviting." (p. 20.) In the impression thus at once produced, we
perceive their "tendency or advantage to move or excite the will." It is
a preference or choice anticipated, an instantaneous perception of a
quality in the object which we feel would determine our choice, if we
were called upon to make a choice. The object is felt to be adapted to
the state of the mind, and the state of the mind to the object. They are
felt to be reciprocal.
_What is this quality which makes up the previous tendency?_
"Whatever is perceived or apprehended by an intelligent and voluntary
agent, which has the nature and influence of a motive to volition or
choice, is considered or viewed _as good_; nor has it any tendency to
engage the election of the soul in any further degree than it appears
such." Now, as the will is determined by the strongest motive; and as
the strength of motive lies in the previous tendency; and as the
previous tendency is made up of the quality of goodness; and as the
highest degree of this quality in any given case makes the strongest
motive; therefore, it follows that the "_will is always as the greatest
apparent good is_." (p. 20.)
_The sense in which the term_ "good" _is used._
"I use the term _'good'_ as of the same import with _'agreeable.'_ To
appear _good_ to the mind, as I use the phrase, is the same as to
_appear agreeable_, or _seem pleasing_ to the mind. If it tends to draw
the inclination and move the will, it must be under the notion of that
which _suits_ the mind. And therefore that must have the greatest
tendency to attract and engage it, which, as it stands in the mind's
view, suits it best, and pleases it most; and in that sense is the
greatest apparent good. The word _good_ in this sense includes the
avoiding of evil, or of that which is disagreeable and uneasy." (p. 20.)
It follows then that the will is always determined by that which _seems
most pleasing or appears most agreeable_ to the mind.
This conclusion is in perfect accordance with the position with which
Edwards set out: that will is always as the preponderating desire;
indeed, that the will is the same in kind with desire, or with the
affections; and an act of will or choice, nothing more than the
strongest desire in reference to an immediate object, and a desire
producing an effect in our mental or physical being. The determination
of will is the strongest excitement of passion. That which determines
will is the cause of passion. The strength of the cause lies in its
perceived tendency to excite the passions and afford enjoyment. As
possessing this tendency, it is called _good_, or _pleasing_, or
_agreeable_; that is, suiting the state of the mind or the condition of
the affections.
The _"good"_ which forms the characteristic of a cause or motive is an
immediate good, or a good "in the present view of the mind." (p. 21.)
Thus a drunkard, before he drinks, may be supposed to weigh against each
other the present pleasure of drinking and the remote painful
consequences; and the painful consequences may appear to him to be
greater than the present pleasure. But still the question truly in his
mind, when he comes to drink, respects the present act of drinking only;
and if this seems to him most pleasing, then he drinks. "If he wills to
drink, then drinking is the proper object of the act of his will; and
drinking, on some account or other, now appears most agreeable to him,
and suits him best. If he chooses to refrain, then refraining is the
immediate object of his will, and is most pleasing to him." The
reasoning is, that when the drunkard drinks, we are not to conclude that
he has chosen future misery over future good, but that the act of
drinking, in itself, is the object of choice; so that, in the view he
has taken of it, it is to him the greatest apparent good. In general we
may say, in accordance with this principle, that whenever the act of
choice takes place, the object of that act comes up before the mind in
such a way as to seem most pleasing to the mind; it is at the moment,
and in the immediate relation, the greatest apparent good. The man thus
never chooses what is disagreeable, but always what is agreeable to him.
_Proper use of the term_ most agreeable, _in relation to the Will._
"I have chosen rather to express myself thus, _that the will always is
as the greatest apparent good_, or _as what appears most agreeable_,
than to say the will is _determined by_ the greatest apparent good, or
by what seems most agreeable; because an appearing most agreeable to the
mind, and the mind's preferring, seem scarcely distinct. If strict
propriety of speech be insisted on, it may more properly be said, that
the _voluntary action_, which is the immediate _consequence_ of the
mind's choice, is determined by that which appears most agreeable, than
the choice itself." (p. 21, 22.) Here _the perception or sense of the
most agreeable_ is identified in express terms with _volition_ or
_choice_. "The will is as the most agreeable,"--that is, _the
determination of will_, which means _its actual choice_, as a fact of
the consciousness is embraced in the _sense of the most agreeable;_ and
as the _voluntary action_, or the action, or change, or effect,
following volition, in any part of our being,--as to walk, or talk, or
read, or think,--has its cause in the volition, or the "mind's
choice,"--so it is entirely proper to say, either that this voluntary
action is determined by the volition or that it is determined by the
sense of the most agreeable. Edwards's meaning plainly is, that the
terms are convertible: volition may be called the cause of voluntary
action, or the sense of the most agreeable may be called the cause. This
is still a carrying out of the position, that _the will is as the
desire_. "The greatest apparent good" being identical with "the most
agreeable," and this again being identical with _the most desirable_, it
must follow, that whenever, in relation to any object, the mind is
affected with _the sense of the most agreeable_, it presents the
phenomenon of "volition" or "choice;" and still farther, that which is
chosen is the most agreeable object; and is known to be such by the
simple fact that it is chosen; for its being chosen, means nothing more
than that it affects the mind with the sense of the most agreeable,--and
the most agreeable is that which is chosen, and cannot be otherwise than
chosen; for its being most agreeable, means nothing more than that it is
the object of the mind's choice or sense of the most agreeable. The
object, and the mind regarded as a sensitive or willing power, are
correlatives, and choice is the unition of both: so that if we regard
choice as characterizing the object, then the object is affirmed to be
the most agreeable; and if, on the other side, we regard choice as
characterizing the mind, then the mind is affirmed to be affected with
the sense of the most agreeable.
_Cause of Choice, or of the sense of the most agreeable._
"Volition itself is always determined by that in or about the mind's
view of the object, which causes it to appear most agreeable. I say _in
or about the mind's view of the object;_ because what has influence to
render an object in view agreeable, is not only what appears in the
object viewed, but also the manner of the view, and the _state and
circumstances_ of the mind that views." (p. 22.)
Choice being the unition of the mind's sensitivity and the object,--that
is, being an affection of the sensitivity, by reason of its perfect
agreement and correlation with the object, and of course of the perfect
agreement and correlation of the object with the sensitivity, in
determining the cause of choice, we must necessarily look both to the
mind and the object. Edwards accordingly gives several particulars in
relation to each.
I. In relation to the object, the sense of the most agreeable, or
choice, will depend upon,--
1. The beauty of the object, "viewing it as it is _in itself_,"
independently of circumstances.
2. "The apparent degree of pleasure or trouble attending the object, or
_the consequence_ of it," or the object taken with its "concomitants"
and consequences.
3. "The apparent _state_ of the pleasure or trouble that appears with
respect to _distance of time_. It is a thing in itself agreeable to the
mind, to have pleasure speedily; and disagreeable to have it delayed."
(p. 22.)
II. In relation to mind, the sense of agreeableness will depend, first,
upon the _manner_ of the mind's view; secondly, upon the state of mind.
Edwards, under the first, speaks of the object as connected with future
pleasure. Here the manner of the mind's view will have influence in two
respects:
1. The certainty or uncertainty which the mind judges to attach to the
pleasure;
2. The liveliness of the sense, or of the imagination, which the mind
has of it.
Now these may be in different degrees, compounded with different degrees
of pleasure, considered in itself; and "the agreeableness of a proposed
object of choice will be in a degree some way compounded of the degree
of good supposed by the judgement, the degree of apparent probability or
certainty of that good, and the degree of liveliness of the idea the
mind has of that good." (p. 23.)
Secondly: In reference to objects generally, whether connected with
present or future pleasure, the sense of agreeableness will depend also
upon "the _state of the mind_ which views a proposed object of choice."
(p. 24.) Here we have to consider "the particular temper which the mind
has by nature, or that has been introduced or established by education,
example, custom, or some other means; or the frame or state that the
mind is in on a particular occasion." (ibid.)
Edwards here suggests, that it may be unnecessary to consider the _state
of the mind_ as a ground of agreeableness distinct from the two already
mentioned: viz.--the _nature and circumstances of the object_, and the
_manner of the view_. "Perhaps, if we strictly consider the matter," he
remarks, "the different temper and state of the mind makes no alteration
as to the agreeableness of objects in any other way, than as it makes
the objects themselves appear differently; _beautiful_ or _deformed_,
having apparent pleasure or pain attending them; and as it occasions the
_manner_ of the view to be different, causes the idea of beauty or
deformity, pleasure or uneasiness, to be more or less lively." (ibid.)
In this remark, Edwards shows plainly how completely he makes mind and
object to run together in choice, or how perfect a unition of the two,
choice is. The _state of the mind_ is manifested only in relation to
_the nature and circumstances of the object;_ and the sense of
agreeableness being in the correlation of the two, _the sense of the
most agreeable_ or _choice_ is such a perfect unition of the two, that,
having described the object in its nature and circumstances in relation
to _the most agreeable_, we have comprehended in this the _state of
mind_. On the other hand, the nature and circumstances of the object, in
relation to the most agreeable, can be known only by the state of mind
produced by the presence of the object and its circumstances. To give an
example,--let a rose be the object. When I describe the beauty and
agreeableness of this object, I describe the _state of mind_ in relation
to it; for its beauty and agreeableness are identical with the
sensations and emotions which I experience, hence, in philosophical
language, called the _secondary_ qualities of the object: and so, on the
other hand, if I describe my sensations and emotions in the presence of
the rose, I do in fact describe its beauty and agreeableness. The mind
and object are thus united in the sense of agreeableness. I could not
have this sense of agreeableness without an object; but when the object
is presented to my mind, they are so made for each other, that they seem
to melt together in the pleasurable emotion. The sense of the most
agreeable or choice may be illustrated in the same way. The only
difference between the agreeable simply and the most agreeable is this:
the agreeable refers merely to an emotion awakened on the immediate
presentation of an object, without any comparison or competition. The
most agreeable takes place where there is comparison and competition.
Thus, to prefer or choose a rose above a violet is a sense of the most
agreeable of the two. In some cases, however, that which is refused is
positively disagreeable. The choice, in strictness of speech, in these
cases, is only a sense of the agreeable. As, however, in every instance
of choosing, there are two terms formed by contemplating the act of
choosing itself in the contrast of positive and negative, the phrase
_most agreeable_ or _greatest apparent good_ is convenient for general
use, and sufficiently precise to express every case which comes up.
It may be well here to remark, that in the system we are thus
endeavouring to state and to illustrate, the word _choice_ is properly
used to express the action of will, when that action is viewed in
relation to its immediate effects,--as when I say, I choose to walk.
_The sense of the most agreeable_, is properly used to express the same
action, when the action is viewed in relation to its own cause. Choice
and volition are the words in common use, because men at large only
think of choice and volition in reference to effects. But when the cause
of choice is sought after by a philosophic mind, and is supposed to lie
in the nature and circumstances of mind and object, then the _sense of
the most agreeable_ becomes the most appropriate form of expression.
Edwards concludes his discussion of the cause of the most agreeable, by
remarking: "However, I think so much is certain,--that volition, in no
one instance that can be mentioned, is otherwise than the greatest
apparent good is, in the manner which has been explained." This is the
great principle of his system; and, a few sentences after, he states it
as an axiom, or a generally admitted truth: "There is scarcely a plainer
and more universal dictate of the sense and experience of mankind, than
that when men act voluntarily and do what they please, then they do what
suits them best, or what is most agreeable to them." Indeed, Edwards
cannot be considered as having attempted to prove this; he has only
explained it, and therefore it is only the _explanation_ of a supposed
axiom that we have been following out.
This supposed axiom is really announced in the first section: "Will and
desire do not run counter at all: the thing which he wills, the very
same he desires;" that is, a man wills as he desires, and of course
wills what is most agreeable to him. It is to be noticed, also, that the
title of part I. runs as follows: "Wherein are explained and stated
various terms and things, &c." Receiving it, therefore, as a generally
admitted truth, "that choice or volition is always as the most
agreeable," and is itself only the sense of the most agreeable, what is
the explanation given?
1. That will, or the faculty of choice, is not a faculty distinct from
the affections or passions, or that part of our being which philosophers
sometimes call the sensitivity.
2. That volition, or choice, or preference, being at any given moment
and under any given circumstances the strongest inclination, or the
strongest affection and desire with regard to an immediate object,
appears in the constitution of our being as the antecedent of effects in
the mind itself, or in the body; which effects are called voluntary
actions,--as acts of attention, or of talking, or walking.
3. To say that volition is as the desire, is equivalent to saying that
volition is as the "greatest apparent good," which again means only the
most agreeable,--so that the volition becomes again the _sense or
feeling of the greatest apparent good_. There is in all this only a
variety of expressions for the same affection of the sensitivity.
4. Determination of will is actual choice, or the production in the mind
of volition, or choice, or the strongest affection, or the sense of the
most agreeable, or of the greatest apparent good. It is therefore an
effect, and must have a determiner or cause.
5. This determiner or cause is called motive. In explaining what
constitutes the motive, we must take into view both _mind_ and _object_.
The object must be perceived by the mind as something existent. This
perception, however, is only preliminary, or a mere introduction of the
object to the mind. Now, in order that the sense of the most agreeable,
or choice, may take place, the mind and object must be suited to each
other; they must be correlatives. The object must possess qualities of
beauty and agreeableness to the mind. The mind must possess a
susceptibility agreeable to the qualities of the object. But to say that
the object possesses qualities of beauty and agreeableness to the mind,
is in fact to affirm that the mind has the requisite susceptibility; for
these qualities of the object have a being, and are what they are only
in relation to mind. Choice, or the sense of agreeableness, may
therefore be called the unition of the sensitivity and the object.
Choice is thus, like any emotion or passion, a fact perpetually
appearing in the consciousness; and, like emotion or passion; and,
indeed, being a mere form of emotion and passion, must ultimately be
accounted for by referring it to the constitution of our being. But
inasmuch as the constitution of our being manifests itself in relation
to objects and circumstances, we do commonly account for its
manifestations by referring them to the objects and circumstances in
connexion with which they take place, and without which they would not
take place; and thus, as we say, the cause of passion is the object of
passion: so we say also, in common parlance, the cause of choice is the
object of choice; and assigning the affections of the mind springing up
in the presence of the object, to the object, as descriptive of its
qualities, we say that choice is always as the most beautiful and
agreeable; that is, as the greatest apparent good. This greatest
apparent good, thus _objectively_ described, is the motive, or
determiner, or cause of volition.
_In what sense the Will follows the last dictate of the Understanding._
"It appears from these things, that in some sense _the will always
follows the last dictate of the understanding_. But then the
understanding must be taken in a large sense, as including the whole
faculty of perception or apprehension, and not merely what is called
_reason_ or _judgement_. If by the dictate of the understanding is meant
what reason declares to be best, or most for the person's happiness,
taking in the whole of its duration, it is not true that the will always
follows the last dictate of the understanding. Such a dictate of reason
is quite a different matter from things appearing now most _agreeable_,
all things being put together which relates to the mind's present
perceptions in any respect." (p. 25.) The "large sense" in which Edwards
takes the understanding, embraces the whole intellectual and sensitive
being. In the production of choice, or the sense of the most agreeable,
the suggestions of reason may have their influence, and may work in with
other particulars to bring about the result; but then they are subject
to the same condition with the other particulars,--they must appear, at
the moment and in the immediate circumstances, the most agreeable. It is
not enough that they come from reason, and are true and right; they must
likewise _suit the state of the mind_,--for as choice is the sense of
the most agreeable, that only as an object can tend to awaken this
sense, which is properly and agreeably related to the feelings of the
subject. Where the suggestions of reason are not agreeably related, "the
act of the will is determined in opposition to it." (ibid.)
"Sec. III.--Concerning the meaning of the terms Necessity,
Impossibility, Inability, &c. and of Contingence."
After having settled his definition of choice or volition, and explained
the cause of the same, Edwards takes up the nature of the connexion
between this cause and effect: viz. motive and volition. Is this
connexion a necessary connexion?
In order to determine this point, and to explain his view of it, he
proceeds to discuss the meaning of the terms contained in the above
title. This section is entirely occupied with this preliminary
discussion.
Edwards makes two kinds of necessity: 1. Necessity as understood in the
common or vulgar use; 2. Necessity as understood in the philosophical or
metaphysical use.
1. In common use, _necessity_ "is a relative term, and relates to some
supposed opposition made to the existence of a thing, which opposition
is overcome or proves insufficient to hinder or alter it. The word
_impossible_ is manifestly a relative term, and has reference to
supposed power exerted to bring a thing to pass which is insufficient
for the effect. The word _unable_ is relative, and has relation to
ability, or endeavour, which is insufficient. The word _irresistible_ is
relative, and has reference to resistance which is made, or may be made,
to some force or power tending to an effect, and is insufficient to
withstand the power or hinder the effect. The common notion of necessity
and impossibility implies _something that frustrates endeavour or
desire_."
He then distinguishes this necessity into _general and particular_.
"Things are necessary _in general_, which are or will be,
notwithstanding any supposable opposition, from whatever quarter:" e. g.
that God will judge the world.
"Things are necessary _to us_ which are or will be, notwithstanding all
opposition supposable in the case _from us_." This is _particular_
necessity: e. g. any event which I cannot hinder. In the discussions
"about liberty and moral agency," the word is used especially in a
particular sense, because we are concerned in these discussions _as
individuals_.
According to this _common use_ of necessity in the _particular_ sense,
"When we speak of any thing necessary _to us_, it is with relation to
some supposable opposition _to our wills;_" and "a thing is said to be
necessary" in this sense "when we cannot help it, do what _we will_." So
also a thing is said to be _impossible to us_ when we cannot do it,
although we make the attempt,--that is, put forth the volition; and
_irresistible to us_, which, when we put forth a volition to hinder it,
overcomes the opposition: and we are _unable_ to do a thing "when our
supposable desires and endeavours are insufficient,"--are not followed
by any effect. In the common or vulgar use of these terms, we are not
considering volition in relation to its own cause; but we are
considering volition as itself a cause in relation to its own effects:
e. g. suppose a question be raised, whether a certain man can raise a
certain weight,--if it be affirmed that it is _impossible_ for him to
raise it, that he has not the _ability_ to raise it, and that the weight
will _necessarily_ keep its position,--no reference whatever is made to
the production of a volition or choice to raise it, but solely to the
connexion between the _volition_ and the _raising of the weight_. Now
Edwards remarks, that this common use of the term necessity and its
cognates being habitual, is likely to enter into and confound our
reasonings on subjects where it is inadmissible from the nature of the
case. We must therefore be careful to discriminate. (p. 27.)
2. In metaphysical or philosophical use, necessity is not a _relative_,
but an _absolute term_. In this use necessity applies "in cases wherein
no insufficient will is supposed, or can be supposed; but the very
nature of the supposed case itself excludes any opposition, will, or
endeavour." (ibid.) Thus it is used "with respect to God's existence
before the creation of the world, when there was no other being."
"_Metaphysical_ or _philosophical_ necessity is nothing different from
certainty,--not the certainty of knowledge, but the certainty of things
in themselves, which is the foundation of the certainty of knowledge, or
that wherein lies the ground of the infallibility of the proposition
which affirms them. Philosophical necessity is really nothing else than
the full and fixed connexion between the things signified by the subject
and predicate of a proposition which affirms something to be true; and
in this sense I use the word necessity, in the following discourse, when
I endeavour to prove _that necessity is not inconsistent with liberty_."
(p. 27, 28, 29.)
"The subject and predicate of a proposition which affirms the existence
of something, may have a full, fixed, and certain connexion, in several
ways."
"1. They, may have a full and perfect connexion _in and of themselves_.
So God's infinity and other attributes are necessary. So it is
necessary, _in its own nature_, that two and two should be four."
2. The subject and predicate of a proposition, affirming the existence
of something which is already come to pass, are fixed and certain.
3. The subject and predicate of a proposition may be fixed and certain
_consequentially_,--and so the existence of the things affirmed may be
"consequentially necessary." "Things which are _perfectly connected_
with the things that are necessary, are necessary themselves, by a
necessity of consequence." This is logical necessity.
"And here it may be observed, that all things which are future, or which
will hereafter begin to be, which can be said to be necessary, are
necessary only in this last way,"--that is, "by a connexion with
something that is necessary in its own nature, or something that already
is or has been. This is the necessity which especially belongs to
controversies about acts of the will." (p. 30.)
Philosophical necessity is _general_ and _particular._ 1. "The existence
of a thing may be said to be necessary with a _general_ necessity, when
all things considered there is a foundation for the certainty of its
existence." This is unconditional necessity in the strictest sense.