VOLITION NOT AN EFFECT.
THE argument of the Inquiry, as I have shown, assumes that a volition is
an effect in the proper sense of the word; that it is the correlative of
an efficient cause. If it were necessary, this point might be
established by a great variety of additional considerations; but, I
presume that every candid reader of the Inquiry is fully satisfied in
relation to it.
If we mean by an effect, every thing that comes to pass, of course a
volition is an effect; for no one can deny that it comes to pass. Or, if
we include in the definition of the term, every thing which has a
sufficient reason and ground of its existence, we cannot deny that it
embraces the idea of a volition. For, under certain circumstances, the
free mind will furnish a sufficient reason and ground of the existence
of a volition. All that I deny is, that a volition does proceed from the
mind, or from motive, or from anything else, in the same manner that an
effect, properly so called, proceeds from its efficient cause.
This is a point on which I desire to be distinctly understood. I put
forth a volition to move my hand. The motion of the hand follows. Now,
here I observe the action of the mind, and also the motion of the hand.
The effect exists in the body, in that which is by nature passive; the
cause in that which is active, in the mind. The effect produced in the
body, in the hand, is the passive result of the prior direct action of
the mind. It is in this restricted sense, that I use the term in
question, when I deny that a volition is an effect. I do not deny that
it depends for its production upon certain circumstances, as the
conditions of action, and upon the powers of the mind, by which it is
capable of acting in view of such circumstances. All that I deny is,
that volition results from the prior action of mind, or of
circumstances, or of any thing else, in the same manner that the motion
of body results from the prior action of mind. Or, in other words, I
contend that action is the invariable antecedent of bodily motion, but
not of volition; that whatever may be its relations to other things, a
volition does not sustain the same relation to any thing in the
universe, that an effect sustains to its efficient cause, that a passive
result sustains to the direct prior action by which it is produced. I
hope I may be _always_ so understood, when I affirm that a volition is
not an effect.
It is in this narrow and restricted sense that Edwards assumes a
volition to be an effect. He does not say, in so many words, that the
mind cannot put forth a volition, except in the way of producing it by a
preceding volition or act of the will; but he first assumes a volition
to be an effect; and then he asserts, that the mind can be the cause of
no _effect_, (italicising the term effect,) except by the prior action
of the mind. Thus, having assumed a volition to be an effect, he takes
it for granted that it cannot proceed from the mind in any way, except
that in which any effect in the outer world proceeds from the mind; that
is to say, except it be produced by the direct prior action of the mind,
by a preceding volition. Thus he brings the idea of a volition under the
above narrow and restricted notion of an effect; and thereby confounds
the relation which subsists between mind and its volitions, with the
relation which subsists between mind and its external effects in body.
In other words, on the supposition that our volitions proceed from the
mind, he takes it for granted that they must be produced by the
preceding action of the mind; just as an effect, in the limited sense of
the term, is produced by the prior action of its cause. It is in this
assumption, that Edwards lays the foundation of the logic, by which he
reduces the self-determining power of the mind to the absurdity of an
infinite series of volitions.
It is evident that such is the course pursued by Edwards; for he not
only calls a volition, an effect, but he also says, that the mind can
"bring no _effects_ to pass, but what are consequent upon its acting,"
p. 56. And again he says, "The will determines which way the hands and
feet shall move, by an act of choice; and _there is no other way_ of the
will's determining, directing, or commanding any thing at all." This is
very true, if a volition is such an effect as requires the prior action
of something else to account for its production, just as the motion of
the "hands and feet" requires the action of the mind to account for its
production; but it is not true, if a volition is such an effect, that
its existence may be accounted for by the presence of certain
circumstances or motives, as the conditions of action, in conjunction
with a mind capable of acting in view of such motives. In other words,
his assertion is true, if we allow him to assume, as he does, that a
volition is an effect, in the above restricted meaning of the term; but
it is not true, if we consider a volition as an effect in a larger sense
of the word. Hence, the whole strength of Edwards' position lies in the
sense which he arbitrarily attaches to the term _effect_, when he says
that a volition is an effect.
Now, is a volition an effect in such a sense of the word? Is it brought
into existence, like the motion of body, by the prior action of any
thing else? We answer, No. But how shall this point be decided? The
necessitarian says, a moment before the volition did not exist, now it
does exist; and hence, it necessarily follows, that there must have been
a cause by which it was brought into existence. That is to say, it
_must_ be an effect. True, it must be an effect, if you please; but in
what sense of the word? Is volition an effect, in the same sense that
the motion of the body is an effect? This is the question.
And this question, I contend, is not to be decided by abstract
considerations, nor yet by the laying of words together, and drawing
conclusions from them. It is a question, not of logic, but of
psychology. By whatever name you may please to call it, the true nature
of a volition is not to be determined by reference to abstractions, nor
by the power of words; but _by simply looking at it and seeing what it
is_. If we would really understand its nature, we must not undertake to
_reason it out;_ we must _open our eyes_, and _look_, and _see_. The
former course would do very well, no doubt, if the object were to
construct a world for ourselves; but if we would behold the glory of
that which God has constructed for us, and in us, we must lay aside the
proud syllogistic method of the schools, and betake ourselves to the
humble task of observation--of patient, severe, and scrutinizing
observation. There is no other condition on which we can "enter into the
kingdom of man, which is founded in the sciences." There is no other
course marked out for us by the immortal Bacon: and if we pursue any
other we may wander in the dazzling light of a thousand abstractions,
and behold whatever fleeting images of grandeur and of beauty we may be
pleased to conjure up for ourselves; but the pure light of nature and of
truth will be hid from us.
What then is a volition just as it is revealed to us in the light of
consciousness? Does it result from the prior action of mind, or of
motive, or of any thing else? In other words, is it an _effect_, as the
motion of body is an effect!
We always conceive of the subject in which such an effect resides, as
being wholly passive. President Edwards himself has repeatedly said,
that it is the very notion of an effect, that it results from the action
or influence of its cause; and that nothing is any further an effect,
than as it proceeds from that action or influence. The subject in which
it is produced, is always passive as to its production; and just in so
far as it is itself active, it is not the subject of an effect, but the
author of an action. Such is the idea of an effect in the true and
proper sense of the word.
Now does our idea of a volition correspond with this idea of an effect?
Is it produced in the mind, and is the mind passive as to its
production? Is it, like the motion of a body, the passive result of the
action of something else? No. It is not the result of action; it is
action itself. The mind is not passive as to its production; it is in
and of itself an action of the mind. It is not _determined_; it is a
_determination_. It is not a produced effect, like the motion of body;
it is itself an original producing cause. It does seem to me, that if
any man will only reflect on this subject, he must see that there is a
clear and manifest difference between an ACT and an EFFECT.
Although the scheme of Edwards identifies these two things, and his
argument assumes them to be one and the same; yet his language, it
appears to me, frequently betrays the fact, that his consciousness did
not work in harmony with his theory. While speaking of the acts of the
will as effects, he frequently says, that it is the very idea of an
effect that it results from, and is necessarily connected with, the
action of its cause, and that it is absurd to suppose that it is free or
loose from the influence of its cause.
And yet, in reference to volitions, he often uses the expression, "_this
sort_ of effects," as if it did not exactly correspond with the "very
idea of an effect," from which it is absurd to depart in our
conceptions. When he gives fair play to consciousness, he speaks of
different kinds of effects; and yet, when he returns to his theory and
his reasoning, all this seems to vanish; and there remains but one
clear, fixed, and definite idea of an effect, and to speak of any thing
else as such is absurd. He now and then pays a passing tribute to the
power of consciousness, by admitting that the soul exerts its own
volitions, that the soul itself acts; but he no sooner comes to the work
of argument and refutation, than it is motive that "causes them to be
put forth or exerted," p. 96. Ever and anon, he seems to catch a whisper
from the voice of consciousness; and he concedes that he sometimes uses
the term cause to designate that which has not a _positive_ or
_productive_ influence, p. 50-1. But this is not when he is engaged in
the energy of debate. Let Mr. Chubb cross his path; let him hear the
voice of opposition giving utterance to the sentiment, that "in motive
there is no causality in the production of action;" and that moment the
voice of consciousness is hushed in the most profound silence. He rises,
like a giant, in the defence of his system, and he declares, that "to
excite," as motives do, "is positively to do something," and "certainly
that which does something, is the cause of the thing done by it." Yea,
"to excite, _is to cause in the most proper sense, not merely a negative
occasion_, but a ground of existence by _positive influence_," p. 96.
These passages, which are scattered up and down through the Inquiry, in
which the doctrine of liberty seems to be conceded, I cannot but regard
as highly important concessions. They have been used to show that we
misconceive the scheme of Edwards, when we ascribe to him the doctrine
of fate. But when they are thus adduced, to show that we misrepresent
his doctrine, I beg it may be remembered that such evidence can prove
only one of two things; either that we do not understand what he
teaches, or that he is not always consistent with himself.
If he really held the doctrine of fatalism, we ought not to be surprised
that he has furnished such evidence against himself. It is not in the
nature of the human mind to keep itself always deaf to the voice of
consciousness. It is not in the power of any system always to counteract
the spontaneous workings of nature. Though the mind should be surrounded
by those deep-seated, all-pervading, and obstinate illusions, by which
the scheme of fatalism is made to wear the appearance of self-evident
truth; yet when it loses sight of that system, it will, at times, speak
out in accordance with the dictates of nature. The stern and unrelenting
features of fatalism cannot always be so intimately present to the mind,
as entirely to exclude it from the contemplation of a milder and more
captivating system of philosophy. Notwithstanding the influence of
system, how rigid soever may be its demands, the human mind will, in its
moments of relaxation, recognize _in its feelings_ and _in its
utterance_, those great truths which are inseparable from its very
nature.
Let it be borne in mind, then, that there is more than one process in
the universe. Some things are produced, it is most true, by the prior
action of other things; and herein we behold the relation of cause and
effect, properly so called; but it does not follow, that all things are
embraced by this _one_ relation. This appears to be so only to the mind
of the necessitarian; from which one fixed idea has shut out the light
of observation. He no longer sees the rich variety, the boundless
diversity, there is in the works of God: all things and all modes and
all processes of the awe-inspiring universe, are made to conform to the
narrow and contracted methods of his own mind. Look where he will, he
sees not the "free and flowing outline" of nature's true lineaments; he
every where beholds the image of the one fixed idea in his mind,
projected outwardly upon the universe of God; behind which the true
secrets and operations of nature are concealed from his vision. Even
when he contemplates that living source of action, that bubbling
fountain of volitions, the immortal mind of man itself, he only beholds
a _thing_, which is made to act by the action of something else upon it;
just as a body is made to move by the action of force upon it. His
philosophy is, therefore, an essentially shallow and superficial
philosophy. The great name of Edwards cannot shield it from such
condemnation.