OF THE APPLICATION OF THE MAXIM THAT EVERY EFFECT MUST HAVE A CAUSE.
IN the last section I considered the application of the maxim, "that
every effect must have a cause," to the question of necessity. This
maxim figures so largely in every scheme of necessity, and it is relied
upon with so much confidence, that I shall present some further views
respecting its true nature and application. The necessitarian may see
the truth of this maxim clearly, but he applies it vaguely.
He is always saying, "that if we give up this great principle of common
sense, then there is no reasoning from effect to cause; and we cannot
prove the existence of a God." Now I propose to show that we need not
give up "this great principle of common sense;" that we may continue to
reason from effect to cause, and so reach the conclusion that there is a
God, by one of the most incontrovertible of all our mental processes;
and yet we may, with perfect consistency, refuse to apply the maxim in
question to human actions or volitions. In other words, that we may
freely admit the principle in question, and yet reject the application
which the necessitarian is accustomed to make of it.
In order to do this in a perspicuous and satisfactory manner, let us
consider the occasion on which we first became acquainted with the truth
of the principle, that every effect must have a cause. Let us consider
the circumstances under which it is first suggested to the mind. Whence,
then, do we derive the ideas of cause and effect, and of the necessary
connection between them?
Locke, it is well known, supposed that we might derive the idea of
causation by reflecting on the changes which take place in the external
world. The fallacy of this supposition has been fully shown by Hume, and
Brown, and Consin. In the refutation of Locke's notion, these celebrated
philosophers were undoubtedly right; but the two first were wrong in the
conclusion that we have no idea of power at all. Because the ideas of
power and causation are not suggested by the changes of the material
world, it does not follow that we have no such ideas in reality; that
the only notion we have of causation is that of an invariable
antecedence.
The only way in which the mind ever comes to be furnished with the ideas
of cause and effect at all is this: we are conscious that we will a
certain motion in the body, and we discover that the motion follows the
volition. It is this act of the mind, this exertion of the will, that
gives us the idea of a cause; and the change which it produces in the
body, is that from which we derive the idea of an effect. If we had
never experienced a volition, we should never have formed the idea of
causation. The idea of positive efficiency, or active power, would never
have entered into our minds.
The two terms of the sequence, with which we are thus furnished by an
actual experience, is an act of the mind, or a volition, on the one
hand, which we call an efficient cause; and a modification or change in
inert, passive matter, on the other, which we call an effect. It is easy
to see how we rise from this single experience to the universal maxim in
question. We are so made and constituted, by the Author of our nature,
that we cannot help believing in the uniformity of nature's laws, or
sequences. Hence, whenever we see either term of the above sequence, we
are necessarily compelled, by a fundamental law of belief, to infer the
existence of the other.
This fundamental law of belief, by which we repose the most implicit
confidence in the uniformity of nature's sequences, has been recognized
by many distinguished writers in modern times. It is well stated and
illustrated by Dr. Chalmers. "The doctrine of innate ideas in the mind,"
says he, "is wholly different from the doctrine of innate tendencies in
the mind--which tendencies may lie undeveloped till the excitement of
some occasion have manifested or brought them forth. In a newly-formed
mind, there is no idea of nature, or of a single object in nature; yet,
no sooner is an object presented, or is an event observed to happen,
than there is elicited the tendency of the mind to presume on the
constancy of nature. At least as far back as our observation extends,
the law of the mind is in full operation. Let an infant, for the first
time in his life, strike on the table with a spoon; and, pleased with
the noise, it will repeat that stroke with every appearance of a
confident expectation that the noise will be repeated also. It counts on
the invariableness wherewith the same consequent will follow the same
antecedent. In the language of Dr. Thomas Brown, these two terms make up
a sequence, and there seems to exist in the spirit of man not an
underived, but an aboriginal faith in the uniformity of nature's
sequences."--Nat. Theo. p. 121.
Now, the two terms which we find connected in the case before us, is an
act of the mind, and a change or modification of the body. The volition
is the antecedent, and the motion of body is the consequent. And these
two, by virtue of the law of belief above stated, we shall always expect
to find conjoined. Wherever we discover a change or modification, for
example, in the corporeal system of any other person, similar to that
which results from our own volitions, we shall necessarily infer the
existence of a prior act by which it was produced.
Hence, when we witness a change _in the world of matter_, we are
authorized to apply the maxim we have derived in the manner above
explained. We have really no idea of an efficient cause, except that
which we have derived from the phenomena of action. Hence, if we would
not suffer ourselves to be imposed upon by words without meaning, when
we see any change or effect in the material world, we should conclude
that it proceeds from an action of spirit. When we see the same
consequent, we should infer the existence of the same antecedent; and
not suffer our minds to be confused and misled by the manifold
ambiguities of language, as well as by the innumerable illusions of the
fancy. Wherever we see a change in matter, we should infer an act by
which it is produced; and thus, through all the changes and
modifications of the material universe, we shall behold the sublime
manifestations of an ever-present and all-pervading agency of spirit.
By a similar process, we are made acquainted with the existence of an
intelligent and designing First Cause. We learn the connection between
the adaptation of means to an end, and the operations of a designing
mind, by reflecting on what passes within ourselves when we plan and
execute a work of skill and contrivance. And, as we are so made as to
rely with implicit confidence on the uniformity of nature's sequences;
so, without further experience or induction, it is impossible for us to
conceive of any contrivance whatever, without conceiving of it as
proceeding from the hand of a contriver. Thus, we necessarily rise from
the innumerable and wonderful contrivances in nature, to a belief in the
existence of an intelligent and designing mind. In like manner may we
establish the other attributes of God.
But to return to our maxim. We can only infer, from a change or
modification in matter, the existence of an act by which it is produced.
The former is the only idea we have of an effect; the latter is the only
idea we have of an efficient cause. Hence, in reasoning from effect to
cause, we can only reason from a change or modification in matter, or in
that what is passive, to the act of some active power. This lays a
sufficient foundation on which to rest the proof of the existence of
God, as well as the existence of other minds.
But the case is very different when we turn from the contemplation of a
_passive result_ to consider an _efficient cause_--when we turn from the
_motion of body_ to consider the _activity of mind_. In such a case, the
consequent ceases to be the same; and hence we have no right to infer
that the antecedent is the same. We are conscious of an act; we perceive
that it is followed by a change in the outward world; and henceforth,
whenever we observe another change in the outward world, we are
compelled to ascribe it, also, to a similar cause. This conviction
results from the constitution of our minds--from a fundamental law of
belief. But when we contemplate, not a change in the outward world, in
that which is passive, but an act of the mind itself, the case is
entirely different. We have some experience that certain changes in
matter are the results of certain acts; and hence, whenever we observe
similar phenomena, we are under a necessity of our nature to refer them
to similar causes. We merely rely upon our veritable belief in the
uniformity of nature's sequences, without a reliance upon which there
can be no such thing as reasoning, when we ascend from the changes in
the outward world to a belief in the agency of an efficient Cause. But
we have no experience that an act of the mind is produced by a preceding
act of the mind, or by the prior action of any thing else. President
Edwards himself admits that our experience is silent on this subject.
And hence, when we witness an act of the mind, or when we are conscious
of a volition, our instinctive belief in the uniformity of nature's
sequences does not require us to believe that it has an efficient cause;
or, in other words, that it is produced by the prior action of something
else, as the motion of body is produced by a prior act of mind. _A
change in body_ necessarily implies the prior action of something else
by which it is produced; _an act of mind_ only implies the existence of
an agent that is capable of acting. Wherever an act exists, we must
believe that there is a soul, or mind, or agent, that is capable of
acting. We need not suppose that, like a change in body, it is brought
to pass by a prior act. In other words, a change in that which is by
nature passive, necessarily implies an act by which it is produced. But
an act of the mind itself, which is not passive, does not likewise imply
a preceding act by which it is produced. _It only implies the existence
of an agent that is capable of acting, and the circumstances necessary
to action as conditions, not as causes._
Herein, then, lies the error of the necessitarian. He discovers from
experience the connection between an act and a corresponding motion; and
his instinctive belief in the uniformity of nature's sequences
authorizes him to extend this connection to all sequences where the two
terms are the same. That is to say, wherever he discovers a change in
body, he is authorized to infer the existence of a prior act by which it
was produced. But he does not confine himself to this sequence alone. He
does not rest satisfied with the universal principle, that every change
in body, or in that which is passive, must proceed from the prior action
of something else. He makes a most unwarrantable extension of this
principle. He supposes not only that every change in body, but also that
every act of mind, must proceed from the prior action of something else.
Thus he confounds passion and action. He takes it for granted that a
volition is an _effect_--an effect in such a sense that it cannot
proceed from the mind, unless it be produced by the prior act thereof.
He asserts that "the mind cannot be the cause of such an effect," of a
volition, "except by the preceding action of the mind." Thus, in rising
from a single experience to a universal maxim, by virtue of our belief
in the uniformity of nature's laws, he does not confine himself to the
observed sequences; he does not keep his attention steadily fixed on a
change in body as the consequent, and on an act as the invariable
antecedent. On the contrary, from the exceedingly abstruse and subtle
nature of the subject, as well as from the ambiguity of language, he
treats a volition as a consequent, which implies the same kind of
antecedent as does a change in body. Thus, by this unwarrantable
extension or application of his principle, he confounds the _motion of
body_ with the _action of spirit_; than which there could hardly be a
more unphilosophical confusion of ideas.
From the foregoing remarks, it will be perceived, as I have already
said, that the question is not, _whether every effect must have a
cause_. This is conceded. We do not give up "this great principle of
common sense." We insist upon it as firmly as do our adversaries; and
hence, we have as strong a foundation whereon to rest our belief in the
being of a God. But the question is, _whether every cause is an effect?_
Or, in other words, whether an act of mind can exist without being
produced by the prior action of something else; just as the motion of
body is produced by the prior action of mind? We say that it can exist
without any such producing cause.
If it were otherwise, if every cause were an effect in the sense in
which a volition is assumed to be an effect by the necessitarian, what
would be the consequence? It is evident, that each and every cause in
the universe must itself have a cause--must itself result from the
preceding action of something else; and thus we should be involved in
the great absurdity of an infinite series of causes, as well as in the
iron scheme of an all-pervading necessity. But, happily, there is
nothing in our experience, nor in any law of our nature, nor in both
together, which requires us to believe that a volition is an effect in
any such sense of the word. Call it an effect, if you please; but then
it must be conceded that it is not, like the motion of body, such a
consequent as necessarily requires the prior action of something else
for its production.
Every _effect_ must have a cause, it is true; but it is purely a
gratuitous assumption--a mere _petitio principii_, to take it for
granted that a volition is an effect in the sense in which the word
should always be understood in this celebrated maxim. This maxim is
undoubtedly true, as we have seen, when applied to the changes of that
which cannot act: it is in reference to such effects, or consequents,
that the conviction of its truth is first suggested; and we cannot doubt
of the propriety of its application to all such effects, unless we can
doubt of the uniformity of nature's sequences. But when we go over from
the region of inert, passive matter, into that which is full of
spiritual vigour and unceasing activity, and apply this maxim here in
all its rigour, we do make a most unwarrantable extension of it. We
pervert it from its true meaning and import; we identify volition with
local motion; we involve ourselves in the greatest of all absurdities,
as well as in the most ruinous of all doctrines.
As we have already said, then, we do not give up the great principle of
common sense, that every effect must have a cause. We recognize this
principle when we reason from effect to cause--when we ascend from the
creation up to the Creator. We deny that volition is an effect; and what
then? If volition be not an effect, are there no effects in the
universe? Are we sunk in utter darkness? Have we no platform left
whereon to stand, and to behold the glory of God, our Creator and
Preserver? Surely we have. Every change throughout inanimate nature
bespeaks the agency of Him, who "sits concealed behind his own
creation," but is everywhere manifested by his omnipresent energy. The
human body is an effect, teeming with evidences of the most wonderful
skill of its Great Cause and Contriver. The soul itself is an
effect,--the soul, with all its complicated and wonder-working powers,
is an effect; and clearly proclaims the wisdom, and the goodness, and
the holiness of its Maker. The heavens above us, with all its shining
hosts and admirable mechanism, proclaims the glory of God; and the whole
universe of created intelligences shout for joy, as they respond in
their eternal anthems to the "music of the spheres." And is not this
enough? Is the whole psaltery of heaven and earth marred, and all its
sweet harmony turned into harsh discord, if we only dare to assert that
an act is not an effect? No, no: this too proclaims the glory of God;
for, however great may be the mystery, it only shows that the Almighty
has called into existence innumerable creatures, bearing the impress of
his own glorious image, and that, in consequence thereof, they are
capable of acting without being compelled to act.
It is the position of Edwards, and not ours, that would disprove the
existence of a God. We believe in action which is uncaused by any prior
action; and hence, we can reason from effects up to Cause, and there
find a resting-place. We do not look beyond that which is uncaused. We
believe there is action somewhere, uncaused by preceding action; and if
we did not believe this, we should be constrained to adopt the doctrine
of Edwards, that action itself must be caused "by the action of
something else," p. 203; which necessarily lands us in an infinite
series of causes; the very ground occupied by Atheists in all ages of
the world. It is well, therefore, to hold on to "this great principle of
common sense, that every effect must have a cause," in order that we may
rise from the world and its innumerable wonders to the contemplation of
the infinite wisdom and goodness of God: it is also well that we should
hold it with a distinction, and not apply it to action, in order that we
may not be forced beyond the Great First Cause--the central light of the
Universe, into the "outer darkness" of the old atheistic scheme of an
infinite series of causes. If we give up this principle, we cannot prove
the existence of a God, it is most true; but yet, if we apply this
principle as Edwards applies it, we are irresistibly launched upon an
infinite series of causes, and compelled to shoot entirely beyond the
belief of a God. We quarrel not, therefore, with his great principle;
but we utterly reject his application of it, as leading directly to
Atheism.