Slaves uniformly do as they please. If the motive be the lash, or the
fear of the lash, still, in their case as well as in that of brutes
under similar circumstances, the volition which takes place is the most
pleasing at the moment. The slave and the animal do what is most
pleasing to them, or do according to their pleasure, When the one drags
the plough and the other holds it. Nay, it is impossible for any animal,
rational or irrational, to act without doing what is most pleasing to
him or it. Volition is always as the greatest apparent good, or as the
sense of the most pleasant or agreeable.
If any should reply that slaves and animals are _liable_ to be fettered,
and this distinguishes them from the free, I rejoin that every being is
liable to various restraints; none of us can do many things which in
themselves appear desirable, and would be objects of volition if there
were known to be an established connexion between them and our wills. We
are limited in our actions by the powers of nature around us; we cannot
overturn mountains, or command the winds. We are limited in the nature
of our physical being. We are limited by our want of wealth, knowledge,
and influence. In all these respects, we may, with as much propriety as
the slave, be regarded as deprived of liberty. It does not avail to say
that, as we never really will what we know to be impossible or
impracticable, so in relation to such objects, neither liberty or a want
of liberty is to be affirmed; for the same will apply to the fettered
slave; he does not will to walk or run when he knows it to be
impossible. But in relation to him as well as to every other being,
according to this system it holds true, that whether he act or forbear
to act, his volitions are as the most agreeable.
All creatures, therefore, acting by volition, are to be accounted free,
and one really as free as another.
In the third place, the liberty here affirmed belongs equally to every
instance of stated antecedence and sequence.
The liberty which is taken to reside in the connexion between volition
and effects, is a liberty lying in a connexion of stated antecedence and
sequence, and is perfect according as this connexion is necessary and
unimpeded. The highest form of liberty, therefore, is to be found in the
most absolute form of necessity. Liberty thus becomes identified also
with power: where there is power, there is liberty; and where power is
the greatest, that is, where it overcomes the most obstacles and moves
on irresistibly to its effects, there is the greatest degree of liberty.
God is the most free of all beings, because nothing can impede his will.
His volitions are always the antecedents of effects.
But obviously we do not alter the relation, when we change the terms. If
liberty lie in the stated antecedence of volition to effects, and if
liberty is measured by the necessity of the relation, then when the
antecedent is changed, the relation remaining the same, liberty must
still be present. For example: when a volition to move the arm is
followed by a motion of the arm, there is liberty; now let galvanism be
substituted for the volition, and the effect as certainly takes place;
and as freedom is doing as we please, or will, "without considering how
this pleasure (or will) comes to be as it is;" that is, without taking
its motive into the account. So likewise, freedom may be affirmed to be
doing according to the galvanic impulse, "without considering how" that
impulse "comes to be as it is."
If we take any other instance of stated antecedence and sequence, the
reasoning is the same. For example, a water wheel in relation to the
mill-stone: when the wheel turns, the mill-stone moves. In this case
freedom may be defined: the mill-stone moving according to the turn of
the wheel, "without considering how" that turn of the wheel "comes to be
as it is." In the case of human freedom, freedom is defined, doing
according to our volitions, without considering how the volition comes
to be as it is; doing "according to choice, without taking into the
meaning of the word anything of the cause of that choice." (p. 39.)
If it be said that in the case of volition, we have the man of whom to
affirm freedom; but in the case of the wheel and mill-stone, we have
nothing of which liberty can properly be affirmed. I reply, that liberty
must be affirmed, and is properly affirmed, of that to which it really
belongs; and hence as volition is supposed to belong to the spiritual
essence, man; and this spiritual essence is pronounced free, because
volition appears in it, and is attended by consequences:--so, likewise,
the material essence of the wheel may be pronounced free, because motion
belongs to it, and is followed by consequences. As every being that has
volition is free, so likewise every thing that hath motion is free:--in
every instance of cause and effect, we meet with liberty.
But volition cannot be the characteristic of liberty, if volition itself
be governed by necessity: and yet this system which affirms liberty,
wherever there is unimpeded volition, makes volition a necessary
determination. In the fact of unimpeded volition, it gives liberty to
all creatures that have volition; and then again, in the fact of the
necessary determination of volition it destroys the possibility of
liberty. But even where it affirms liberty to exist, there is no new
feature to characterize it as liberty. The connexion between volition
and its stated consequences, is a connexion as necessary and absolute as
the connexion between the motive and the volition, and between any
antecedent and sequent whatever. That my arm should move when I make a
volition to this effect, is just as necessary and just as
incomprehensible too, as that water should freeze at a given
temperature: when the volition is impeded, we have only another instance
of necessity,--a lesser force overcome by a greater.
The liberty therefore which this system affirms in the fact of volition
and its unimpeded connexion with its consequents, is an assumption--a
mere name. It is a part of the universal necessity arbitrarily
distinguished and named, its liberty does not reside in human volition,
so neither can it reside in the divine volition. The necessary
dependence of volition upon motive, and the necessary sequence of
effects upon volition, can no more be separated from the divine mind
than from ours. It is a doctrine which, if true, is implied in the
universal conception of mind. It belongs to mind generically considered.
The creation of volition by volition is absurd in itself--it cannot but
be an absurdity. The determination of will by the strongest motive, if a
truth is a truth universally; on this system, it contains the whole
cause and possibility of volition. The whole liberty of God, it is
affirmed, is contained in this, to do as pleases him, or, in other
words, that what he wills is accomplished, and necessarily accomplished:
what pleases him is also fixed in the necessity of his own nature. His
liberty, therefore, by its own definition, differs nothing from
necessity.
If the movements of mind are necessary, no argument is required to prove
that all being and events are necessary. We are thus bound up in a
universal necessity. Whatever is, is, and cannot be otherwise, and could
not have been otherwise. As therefore there is no liberty, we are
reduced to the only remaining alternative of fatalism.
Edwards does not indeed attempt to rebut wholly the charge of fatalism.
(part iv. Sec. vi.) In relation to the Stoics, he remarks:--"It seems they
differed among themselves; and probably the doctrine of _fate_ as
maintained by most of them, was, in some respects, erroneous. But
whatever their doctrines was, if any of them held such a fate, as is
repugnant to any _liberty, consisting in our doing as we please,_ I
utterly deny such a fate." He objects to fatalism only when it should
deny our actions to be connected with our pleasure, or our sense of the
most agreeable, that is our volition. But this connexion we have fully
proved to be as necessary as the connexion between the volition and its
motive. This reservation therefore does not save him from fatalism.
In the following section, (sec. vii.) he represents the liberty and
sovereignty of God as consisting in an ability "to do whatever pleases
him." His idea of the divine liberty, therefore, is the same as that
attributed to man. That the divine volitions are necessarily determined,
he repeatedly affirms, and indeed represents as the great excellence of
the divine nature, because this necessity of determination is laid in
the infinite wisdom and perfection of his nature.
If necessity govern all being and events, it is cheering to know that it
is necessity under the forms of infinite wisdom and benevolence. But
still it remains true that necessity governs. If "it is no disadvantage
or dishonour to a being, _necessarily_ to act in the most excellent and
happy manner from the necessary perfection of his own nature," still let
us remember that under this representation _he does act necessarily_.
Fate must have some quality or form; it must be what we call good or
evil: but in determining its quality, we do not destroy its nature. Now
if we call this fate a nature of goodness and wisdom, eternal and
infinite, we present it under forms beautiful, benign, and glorious, but
it is nevertheless fate,--and as such it governs the divine volitions;
and through the divine volitions, all the consequents and effects of
these volitions;--the universe of being and things is determined by
fate;--and all volitions of angels or men are determined by fate--by
this fate so beautiful, benign, and glorious. Now if all things thus
_proceeding_ from fate were beautiful, benign, and glorious, the theory
might not alarm us. But that deformity, crime, and calamity should have
place as developements of this fate, excites uneasiness. The abettors of
this system, however, may perhaps comfort themselves with the persuasion
that deformity, crime, and calamity, are names not of realities, but of
the limited conceptions of mankind. We have indeed an instance in point
in Charles Bonnet, whom Dugald Stewart mentions as "a very learned and
pious disciple of Leibnitz." Says Bonnet--"Thus the same chain embraces
the physical and moral world, binds the past to the present, the present
to the future, the future to eternity. That wisdom which has ordained
the existence of this chain, has doubtless willed that of every link of
which it is composed. A Caligula is one of these links; and this link is
of iron. A Marcus Aurelius is another link; and this link is of gold.
_Both_ are necessary parts of one whole, which could not but exist.
Shall God then be angry at the sight of the iron link? What absurdity!
God esteems this link at its proper value. He sees it in its cause, and
he approves this cause, for it is good. God beholds moral monsters as he
beholds physical monsters. Happy is the link of gold! Still more happy
if he know that he is _only fortunate_. He has attained the highest
degree of moral perfection, and is nevertheless without pride, knowing
that what he is, is the necessary result, of the place which he must
occupy in the chain. The gospel is the allegorical exposition of this
system; the simile of the potter is its summary." He might have added,
"Happy is the link of iron, if he know that he is not guilty, but at
worst _only unfortunate;_ and really not unfortunate, because holding a
necessary place in the chain which both as a whole and in its parts, is
the result of infinite wisdom."
If anything more is required in order to establish this consequence of
the system we are examining, I would call attention to the inquiry,
whether after a contingent self-determining will there remains any
theory of action except fatalism? A contingent self-determining will is
a will which is the cause of its own volitions or choices--a
self-conscious power, self-moved and directed, and at the moment of its
choice, or movement towards a particular object, conscious of ability of
choosing, or moving towards, an opposite object. Now what conception
have we to oppose to this but that of a will not determining
itself,--not the cause of its own volitions,--a power not self-moved and
directed,--and not conscious of ability at the moment of a particular
choice, to make a contrary choice? And this last conception is a will
whose volitions are determined by some power antecedent to itself, not
contingently, but necessarily. As the will is the only power for which
contingent self-determination is claimed, if it be proved to be no such
power, then no such power exists. The whole theory of action and
causality will then be expressed as follows:
1. Absolute and necessary connexion of motives and volitions. 2.
Absolute and necessary connexion of volitions and effects. 3. Absolute
and necessary connexion of all sequents and antecedents in nature. 4.
Absolute and necessary connexion of all things existent with a first and
necessary principle or cause. 5. The necessary determination of this
principle or cause.
Denying a contingent self-determining will, this theory is all that
remains. If liberty be affirmed to reside in the 2d particular of this
theory, it becomes a mere arbitrary designation, because the _nature_ of
the relation is granted to be the same; it is not _contingent_, but
necessary. Nor can liberty be affirmed to reside in the 5th; because in
the first place, the supposed demonstration of the absurdity of a
contingent self-determining will, by infinite series of volitions, must
apply to this great first principle considered as God. And in the second
place, the doctrine of the necessary determination of motive must apply
here likewise, since God as will and intelligence requires motives no
less than we do. Such determination is represented as arising from the
very nature of mind or spirit. Now this theory advanced in opposition to
a self-determining will, is plainly the negation of liberty as opposed
to necessity. And this is all that can be meant by fatalism. Liberty
thus becomes a self-contradictory conception, and fatalism alone is
truth and reality.
XVII. It appears to me also, that pantheism is a fair deduction from
this system.
According to this system, God is the sole and universal doer--the only
efficient cause. 1. His volition is the creative act, by which all
beings and things exist. Thus far it is generally conceded that God is
all in all. "By him we live, and move, and have our being." 2. The
active powers of the whole system of nature he has constituted and
regulated. The winds are his messengers. The flaming fire his servant.
However we may conceive of these powers, whether as really powers acting
under necessary laws, or as immediate manifestations of divine energy,
in either case it is proper to attribute all their movements to God.
These movements were ordained by his wisdom, and are executed directly
or indirectly by his will. Every effect which we produce in the material
world, we produce by instrumentality. Our arms, hands, &c. are our first
instruments. All that we do by the voluntary use of these, we attribute
to ourselves. Now if we increase the instrumentality by the addition of
an axe, spade, or hammer, still the effect is justly attributed in the
same way. It is perfectly clear that to whatever extent we multiply the
instruments, the principle is the same. Whether I do the deed directly
with my hand, or do it by an instrument held in my hand, or by a
concatenation of machinery, reaching from "the centre to the utmost
pole,"--if I contemplate the deed, and designedly accomplish it in this
way, the deed is mine. And not only is the last deed contemplated as the
end of all this arrangement mine, all the intermediary movements
produced as the necessary chain of antecedents and sequents by which the
last is to be attained, are mine likewise.
I use powers and instruments whose energy and capacity I have learned by
experience, but in whose constitution I have had no hand. They are
provided for me, and I merely use them. But God in working by these,
works by what his own wisdom and power have created; and therefore _a
fortiori_ must every effect produced by these, according to his design,
and by his volition as at least the first power of the series, be
attributed to him,--be called his doing. He causeth the sun to rise and
set. "He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the
service of man." "He watereth the hills from his chambers." This is not
merely poetry. It is truth.
Now the system we are considering goes one step further; it makes human
volitions as much the objects of the eternal design, and as really the
effects of the divine volition, as the rising of the stars, the flight
of the lightning, the tumult of the waters, or the light which spreadeth
itself like a garment over creation. Every volition of created mind is
God's act, as really as any effect in nature. We have seen how every
volition is connected with its motive; how the motive lies in a
pre-constitution; how the series of antecedents and sequents necessarily
runs back and connects itself with the infinite wisdom. God's volition
is his own act; the effect immediately produced by that volition is his
own deed. Let that effect be the creation of man: the man in all his
powers and susceptibilities is God's work; the objects around him are
God's work; the correlation of the objects with the sensitivity of man
is God's work; the volition which necessarily takes place as the result
of this correlation is God's work. The volition of the man is as
strictly attributable to God, as, according to our common apprehensions,
the blow which I give with an axe is attributable to me. What is true of
the first man, must be equally true of the man removed by a thousand
generations, for the intermediary links are all ordained by God under an
inevitable necessity. God is really, therefore, the sole doer--the only
efficient, the only cause. All beings and things, all motion and all
volition, are absolutely resolved into divine volition. God is the
author of all beings, things, motions, and volitions, and as much the
author of any one of these as of any other, and the author of all in the
same way and in the same sense. Set aside self-determining will, and
there is no stopping-place between a human volition and the divine
volition. The human volition is but the divine, manifested through a
lengthened it may be, but a connected and necessary chain of antecedents
and sequents. I see no way of escaping from this, as a necessary and
legitimate consequence of the necessary determination of will. And what
is this consequence but pantheism? God is the universal and
all-pervading intelligence--the universal and only power. Every movement
of nature is necessary; every movement of mind is necessary; because
necessarily caused and determined by the divine volition. There is no
life but his, no thought but his, no efficiency but his. He is the soul
of the world.
Spinosa never represented himself as an atheist, and according to the
following representation appears rather as a pantheist. "He held that
God is the _cause_ of all things; but that he acts, not from choice, but
from necessity; and, of consequence, that he is the involuntary author
of all the good and evil, virtue and vice, which are exhibited in human
life." (Dugald Stewart, vol. 6. p. 276, note.)
Cousin remarks, too, that Spinosa deserves rather the reproach of
pantheism than of atheism. His pantheism was fairly deduced from the
doctrine of necessary determination, which he advocated.
XVIII. Spinosa, however, is generally considered an atheist. "It will
not be disputed," says Stewart, "by those who comprehend the drift of
his reasonings, that in point of practical tendency atheism and
Spinosism are one and the same."
The following is Cousin's view of his system. It apparently differs from
the preceding in some respects, but really tends to the same
conclusions.
"Instead of accusing Spinosa of atheism, he ought to be reproached for
an error in the other direction. Spinosa starts from the perfect and
infinite being of Descartes's system, and easily demonstrates that such
a being is alone a being in itself; but that a being, finite, imperfect,
and relative, only participates of being, without possessing it, in
itself: that a being in itself is one necessarily: that there is but one
substance; and that all that remains has only a phenomenal existence:
that to call phenomena, finite substances, is affirming and denying, at
the same time; whereas, there being, but one substance which possesses
being in itself, and the finite being that which participates of
existence without possessing it in itself, a substance finite implies
two contradictory notions. Thus, in the philosophy of Spinosa, man and
nature are pure phenomena; simple attributes of that one and absolute
substance, but attributes which are co-eternal with their substance: for
as phenomena cannot exist without a subject, the imperfect without the
perfect, the finite without the infinite, and man and nature suppose
God; so likewise, the substance cannot exist without phenomena, the
perfect without the imperfect, the infinite without the finite, and God
on his part supposes man and nature. The error of his system lies in the
predominance of the relation of phenomenon to being, of attribute to
substance, over the relation of effect to cause. When man has been
represented, not as a cause, voluntary and free, but as necessary and
uncontrollable desire, and as an imperfect and finite thought; God, or
the supreme pattern of humanity, can be only a substance, and not a
cause--a being, perfect, infinite, necessary--the immutable substance of
the universe, and not its producing and creating cause. In Cartesianism,
the notion of substance figures more conspicuously than that of cause;
and this notion of substance, altogether predominating, constitutes
Spinosism." (Hist. de la Phil tom. 1. p. 466.)