How shall we escape from these difficulties? Shall we adopt the

psychology of Edwards, and make the will and the sensitivity one? Then

as the volition is always the strongest affection of the agreeable, if

the sensitivity be necessary, volitions are necessary, and we are

plunged headlong again into an absolute and universal necessity. If the

sensitivity be not necessary, then we have shown fully, above, that we

have to account for its various determinations just as we are supposed

to be called upon to account for the various determinations of the will

when considered as a power distinct from the sensitivity:--we are met

with the questions, why does the sensitivity represent this object as

more agreeable than that object?--or the same object as agreeable at one

time, and disagreeable at another? Or if these various determinations

are resolved into an antecedent necessity comprehending them, then we go

up to the antecedent cause in which this necessity resides, and question

it in like manner.

But one thing remains, and that is to consider the will as primary

cause, contingent in opposition to being necessitated--a cause having in

itself the power of making these various volitions or _nisus_, and

neither asking nor allowing of any explanation of its acts, or their

particular direction, save its own peculiarity and energy as will.

The question respecting the indifferency of will must now be considered.

The term _indifferency_ comes up in consequence of considering the will

as distinct from the sensitivity. It is not desire or feeling--it is a

power indifferent to the agreeableness or disagreeableness of objects.

It is also a power distinct from the reason; it is not conviction or

belief--it is a power indifferent to the true and the right, to the

false and the wrong, in the sense that it is not necessarily determined

by conviction and belief, by the true and the right, or by the false and

the wrong. The conception of will in its utmost simplicity is the

conception of pure power, self-moving, and self-conscious--containing

within itself the ground and the possibility of creation and of

modification. In God it is infinite, eternal, uncreated power; and every

_nisus_ in his will is really creative or modifying, according to its

self-directed aim. In man it is constituted, dependent, limited, and

accountable.

Now in direct connexion with power, we have the conception of law or

rule, or what power _ought_ to do. This law or rule is revealed in the

reason. In man as pure, and we conclude in God likewise, as the

archetype of all spirit, there is given a sensitivity or a capacity to

be affected agreeably by, and to be drawn towards the objects approved

and commanded by the reason. If this sensitivity does not move in

harmony with the reason, it is corrupted. Now will is placed in a

triunity with these two other powers. We can distinguish but not

separate it from them. A will without reason would be a power without

eyes, or light. A will without sensitivity would be a power stern and

isolated;--just as a reason and sensitivity without will, would be

without efficiency, or capacity of giving real manifestations.

The completeness and perfection of each, lies in a union with all; but

then each in its proper movements is in some sense independent and free

of the others. The convictions, beliefs, or perceptions of reason are

not made, nor can they be unmade by the energy of the will. Nor has the

will any direct command over the sensitivity. And yet the will can

excite and direct both the reason and the sensitivity, by calling up

objects and occasions. The sensitivity does not govern the reason, and

yet it supplies conditions which are necessary to its manifestations.

The reason does not govern the sensitivity, and yet the latter would

have no definite perception, and of course its highest sensibilities

would lie dormant without the reason.

So also the reason and the sensitivity do not determine the acts of the

will. The will has efficiency, or creative and modifying power in

itself--self-moved, self-directed. But then without reason and

sensitivity, the will would be without objects, without designs, without

rules,--a solitary power, conscious of ability to do, but not knowing

what to do.

It addition to the above, the will has this high and distinguishing

peculiarity. That it alone is free--that it alone is opposed to

necessity. Reason _must_ perceive, _must_ believe. Sensitivity _must_

feel when its objects are presented; but will, when the reason has given

its light and uttered its commands, and when the sensitivity has

awakened all its passions and emotions, is not compelled to obey. It is

as conscious of power not to do, as of power to do. It may be called a

power arbitrary and contingent; but this means only that it is a power

which absolutely puts forth its own _nisus_, and is free.

It follows from this, that the will can act irrespective of both reason

and sensitivity, if an object of action, bearing no relation to reason

or sensitivity, be possible. It is plain that an object bearing no such

relation, must be very trifling. If a case in illustration could not be

called up, it would not argue anything against the indifferency of

will;--it would only prove that all objects of action actually existing,

bear some relation to reason and sensitivity. There is a case, however,

frequently called up, and much disputed, which deserves some attention,

and which it appears to me, offers the illustration required. Let it be

required to select one of the squares of the chess-board. In selecting

one of the squares, does the will act irrespective of reason and

sensitivity, or not? Those who hold that the will is necessarily

determined, must make out some connexion between the act of selection,

and the reason and sensitivity. It is affirmed that there is a general

motive which determines the whole process, viz: the aim or desire to

illustrate, if possible, the question in dispute. The motive is, to

prove that the will can act without a motive.

I reply to this, that this is undoubtedly the motive of bringing the

chess-board before the eye, and in making all the preparations for a

selection;--but now the last question is, which square shall I select?

The illustration will have the same force whichever square is selected,

and there is no motive that can be drawn either from the reason or the

sensitivity for taking one square in preference to the other: under the

absence of all such motives, and affording each time the same attempt at

illustration, I can vary the selection sixty-four times: in making this

selection, therefore, it appears to me, there is an entire indifferency

as to which particular square is selected;--there is no command of the

reason directing to one square rather than another;--there is no

affection of the sensitivity towards one square rather than another, as

most agreeable and yet the will does select one of the squares.

It will be proper, in this place, to consider the following argument of

Edwards against indifferency of will: "Choice may be immediately _after_

a state of indifference, but cannot co-exist with it: even the very

beginning of it is not in a state of indifference. And, therefore, if

this be liberty, no act of the will, in any degree, is ever performed in

a state of liberty, or in the time of liberty. Volition and liberty are

so far from agreeing together, and being essential one to another, that

they are contrary one to another, and one excludes and destroys the

other, as much as motion and rest, light and darkness, or life and

death." (p. 73.)

Edwards reasons according to his own psychology: If the will and the

sensitivity are one, the will cannot well be conceived of as in a state

of indifference, and if it could be conceived of as in a state of

indifference before it exercises volition, inasmuch as, according to his

system again, volition is the sense of the most agreeable, the moment

volition begins, indifference ceases; and hence, if liberty consist in

indifference, liberty must cease when volition takes place, just as rest

ceases with motion.

But according to the system of psychology, which we adopt, and which I

shall verify hereafter, the will is not one with the sensitivity, but is

clearly distinguishable from it:--the sensitivity is the capacity of

feeling; the will is the causality of the soul:--a movement of the

sensitivity, under the quality of indifference, is self-contradictory;

and a movement of the will being a mere _nisus_ of cause, under the

quality of any sense and feeling whatever, would be self-contradictory

likewise; it would be confounding that which we had already

distinguished. From Edwards's very definition of will it cannot be

indifferent; from our very definition of will it cannot be otherwise

than indifferent. When it determines exclusively of both reason and

sensitivity, it of course must retain, in the action, the indifference

which it possessed before the action; but this is no less true when it

determines in the direction either of reason or sensitivity. When the

determination is in the direction of the reason, there is an exercise of

reason in connexion with the act, and all the interest of the reason is

wakened up, but the will considered in its entire simplicity, knows only

the _nisus_ of power. When the determination is in the direction of the

sensitivity, there is a play of emotions and passions, but the will

again knows only the _nisus_ of power which carries it in this

direction.

In the unity of the soul these powers are generally found acting

together. It may be difficult to distinguish them, and this, in

connexion with the constantly observed fact of the fixed correlation

between physical causes and the masses which they operate upon, may lead

to the conclusion that there is a fixed correlation likewise between the

will and its objects, regarding the will as the sensitivity; or at

least, that there is a fixed connexion between the will and the

sensitivity, so that the former is invariably governed by the latter. We

have already shown, that to identify sensitivity and will does not

relieve us from the difficulties of a self-determined and contingent

will, unless we plunge into absolute necessity; and that to make the

sensitivity govern the will, is only transferring to the sensitivity the

difficulties which we suppose, to encompass the will. In our

psychological investigations it will appear how clearly distinguishable

those powers are, and also how clearly independent and sovereign will

is, inasmuch as it does actually determine at one time, in opposition to

the most agreeable; at another, in opposition to reason; and at another,

in opposition to both conjoined. In the unity of our being, however, we

perceive that will is designed to obey the reason, and as subordinated

to reason, to move within the delights of the sensitivity; and we know

that we are acting _unreasonably_ and _senselessly_ when we act

otherwise; but yet _unreasonably_ and _senselessly_ do we often act. But

when we do obey reason, although we characterize the act from its

direction, will does not lose its simplicity and become reason; and when

we do obey the sensitivity, will does not become sensitivity--will is

still simply cause, and its act the _nisus_ of power: thought, and

conviction, and design, hold their place in the reason alone: emotion

and passion their place in the sensitivity alone.

ARGUMENT

FROM

THE DIVINE PRESCIENCE.

Edwards's argument against a contingent, self-determining will, drawn

from the divine prescience, remains to be considered.

The argument is introduced as follows: "That the acts of the wills of

moral agents are not contingent events, in such a sense as to be without

all necessity, appears by God's certain foreknowledge of such events."

(sec. xi. p. 98.) Edwards devotes this section to "the evidence of God's

certain foreknowledge of the volitions of moral agents." In the

following section, (sec. xii. p. 114,) he proceeds formally with his

argument. Before examining this argument, let us look at the

consequences of his position.

God foresees all volitions; that he foresees them makes their existence

necessary. If their existence were not necessary, he could not foresee

them; or, to express it still more generally, foreknowledge extends to

all events, and foreknowledge proves the necessary existence of

everything to which it extends. It follows from this, that all events

exist with an absolute necessity, all physical phenomena, all volitions,

and moral, phenomena, whether good or evil, and all the divine

volitions, for God cannot but foresee his own volitions. In no part of

his work, does Edwards lay down more summarily and decidedly, the

doctrine of absolute and universal necessity. We have already, in part

II. of this treatise, deduced the consequences of this doctrine. If then

we are placed upon the alternative of denying the divine prescience of

volitions, or of acknowledging the doctrine of necessity, it would

practically be most desirable and wisest to take the first part of the

alternative. "If it could be demonstrated," remarks Dugald Stewart,

(vol. 5. app. sec. viii.) "which in my opinion has not yet been done,

that the prescience of the volitions of moral agents is incompatible

with the free agency of man, the logical inference would be, _not_ in

favour of the scheme of necessity, but that there are some events, the

foreknowledge of which implies an impossibility. Shall we venture to

affirm, that it exceeds the power of God to permit such a train of

contingent events to take place, as his own foreknowledge shall not

extend to? Does not such a proposition detract from the omnipotence of

God, in the same proportion in which it aims to exalt his omniscience?"

If the divine foreknowledge goes to establish the doctrine of necessity,

there is nothing left that it is worth while to contend for; all moral

and theological interests vanish away. But let us examine the argument

of Edwards.

This argument consists of three parts; we shall consider them in order.

I. Edwards lays down, that a past event is necessary, "having already

made sure of existence;" but divine foreknowledge is such an event, and

is therefore necessary. This is equivalent to the axiom, that whatever

is, is. He next affirms, that whatever is "indissolubly connected with

other things that are necessary, are themselves necessary;" but events

infallibly foreknown, have an indissoluble connexion with the

foreknowledge. Hence, the volitions infallibly foreknown by God, have an

indissoluble connexion with his foreknowledge, and are therefore

necessary.

The force of this reasoning turns upon the connexion between

foreknowledge and the events foreknown. This connexion is affirmed to be

"indissoluble;" that is, the foreknowledge is certainly connected with

the event. But this only amounts to the certainty of divine

foreknowledge, and proves nothing as to the nature of the existence

foreknown. We may certainly know a past or present event, but our

knowledge of its existence defines nothing as to the manner in which it

came to exist. I look out of my window, and I see a man walking in a

certain direction: I have a positive knowledge of this event, and it

cannot but be that the man is walking; but then my knowledge of his

walking has no influence upon his walking, as cause or necessary

antecedent; and the question whether his walking be contingent or

necessary is entirely distinct, and relates to the cause of walking. I

looked out of my window yesterday, and saw a man walking; and the

knowledge of that event I now retain, so that it cannot but be that the

man walked yesterday: but this again leaves the question respecting the

mode of existence untouched:--Did the man walk of necessity, or was it a

contingent event? Now let me suppose myself endowed with the faculty of

prescience, sufficiently to know the events of to-morrow; then by this

faculty I may see a man walking in the time called to-morrow, just as by

the faculty of memory I see a man walking in the time called yesterday.

The knowledge, whether it relate to past, present, or future, as a

knowledge in relation to myself, is always a present knowledge; but the

object known may stand in various relations of time, place, &c. Now in

relation to the future, no more than in relation to the past and

present, does the act of knowledge on my part, explain anything in

relation to the mode of the existence of the object of knowledge.

Edwards remarks, (p. 121.) "All certain knowledge, whether it be

foreknowledge, or after-knowledge, or concomitant knowledge, proves the

thing known now to be necessary, by some means or other; or proves that

it is impossible that it should now be otherwise than true."

Edwards does not distinguish between the certainty of the mere _fact_ of

existence, and the necessity by which anything comes to exist.

Foreknowledge, after-knowledge, and concomitant knowledge,--that is, the

present knowledge of events, future, past, or present,--proves of course

the reality of the events; that they will be, have been, or are: or,

more strictly speaking, the knowledge of an event, in any relation of

time, is the affirmation of its existence in that relation; but the

knowledge of the event neither proves nor affirms the necessity of its

existence. If the knowledge of the event were the _cause_ of the event,

or if it _generically_ comprehended it in its own existence, then, upon

strict logical principles, the necessity affirmed of the knowledge would

be affirmed of the event likewise.

That God foreknows all volitions is granted; that as he foreknows them,

they will be, is also granted; his foreknowledge of them is the positive

affirmation of their reality in time future; but by supposition, God's

foreknowledge is not their cause, and does not generically comprehend

them; they are caused by wills acting in the future. Hence God's

foreseeing how the wills acting in the time future, will put forth or

determine their volitions, does not take away from these wills the

contingency and freedom belonging to them, any more than our witnessing

how wills act in the time present, takes away from them their

contingency and freedom. God in his prescience, _is the spectator of the

future, as really as we are the spectators of the present_.

Edwards's reasoning is a sort of puzzle, like that employed sometimes

for exercising the student of logic in the detection of fallacies: for

example, a man in a given place, must _necessarily_ either stay in that

place, or go away from that place; therefore, whether he stays or goes

away, he acts necessarily. Now it is necessary, in the nature of things,

that a man as well as any other body should be in some place, but then

it does not follow from this, that his determination, whether to stay or

go, is a necessary determination. His necessary condition as a body, is

entirely distinct from the question respecting the necessity or

contingency of his volitions. And so also in respect of the divine

foreknowledge: all human volitions as events occurring in time, are

subject to the necessary condition of being foreknown by that Being,

"who inhabiteth eternity:" but this necessary condition of their

existence neither proves nor disproves the necessity or the contingency

of their particular causation.

II. The second proposition in Edwards's argument is, "No future event

can be certainly foreknown, whose existence is contingent, and without

all necessity." His reasoning in support of this is as follows: 1. "It

is impossible for a thing to be certainly known to any intellect without

_evidence_." 2. A contingent future event is without evidence. 3.

Therefore, a contingent future event is not a possible object of

knowledge. I dispute both premises: That which is known by _evidence_ or

_proof_ is _mediate_ knowledge,--that is, we know it through something

which is immediate, standing between the faculty of knowledge and the

object of knowledge in question. That which is known _intuitively_ is

known without proof, and this is _immediate_ knowledge. In this way all

axioms or first truths and all facts of the senses are known. Indeed

evidence itself implies immediate knowledge, for the evidence by which

anything is known is itself immediate knowledge. To a Being, therefore,

whose knowledge fills duration, future and past events may be as

immediately known as present events. Indeed, can we conceive of God

otherwise than immediately knowing all things? An Infinite and Eternal

Intelligence cannot be thought of under relations of time and space, or

as arriving at knowledge through _media_ of proof or demonstration. So

much for the first premise. The second is equally untenable: "_A

contingent future event is without evidence_." We grant with Edwards

that it is not _self-evident_; implying by that the evidence arising

from "the necessity of its nature," as for example, 2 x 2 = 4. What is

self-evident, as we have already shown, does not require any evidence or

proof, but is known immediately; and a future contingent event may be

self-evident as a fact lying before the divine mind, reaching into

futurity, although it cannot be self-evident from "the necessity of its

nature."

But Edwards affirms, that "neither is there any _proof_ or evidence in

_anything else_, or evidence of connexion with something else that is

evident; for this is also contrary to the supposition. It is supposed

that there is now nothing existent with which the future existence of

the _contingent_ event is connected. For such a connexion destroys its

contingency and supposes necessity." (p. 116.) He illustrates his

meaning by the following example: "Suppose that five thousand seven

hundred and sixty years ago, there was no other being but the Divine

Being,--and then this world, or some particular body or spirit, all at

once starts out of nothing into being, and takes on itself a particular

nature and form--all in _absolute contingence_,--without any concern of

God, or any other cause in the matter,--without any manner of ground or

reason of its existence, or any dependence upon, or connexion at all

with anything foregoing;--I say that if this be supposed, there was no

evidence of that event beforehand. There was no evidence of it to be

seen in the thing itself; for the thing itself as yet was not; and there

was no evidence of it to be seen in _any thing else;_ for _evidence_ in

something else; is _connexion_ with something else; but such connexion

is contrary to the supposition." (p. 116.)

The amount of this reasoning is this: That inasmuch as a contingent

event exists "_without any concern of God, or any other cause in the

matter,--without any manner of ground or reason of its existence,--or

any dependence upon or connexion with anything foregoing_,"--there is

really nothing by which it can be proved beforehand. If Edwards be right

in this definition of a contingent event, viz.: that it is an event

without any cause or ground of its existence, and "that there is nothing

now existent with which the future existence of the contingent event is

connected," then this reasoning must be allowed to be conclusive. But I

do not accede to the definition: Contingence I repeat again, is not

opposed to cause but to necessity. The world may have sprung into being

by _absolute contingence_ more than five thousand years ago, and yet

have sprung into being at the command of God himself, and its existence

have been foreseen by him from all eternity. The contingence expresses

only the freedom of the divine will, creating the world by sovereign

choice, and at the moment of creation, conscious of power to withhold

the creative _nibus_,--creating in the light of his infinite wisdom, but

from no compulsion or necessity of motive therein found. Under this view

to foresee creation was nothing different from foreseeing his own

volitions.

A Review of Edwards's "Inquiry into the Freedom of the Will" · 第 12 / 15 段