OF ACTION AND PASSION.
THERE are no two things in nature which are more perfectly distinct than
action and passion; the one necessarily excludes the other. Thus, if an
effect is produced in any thing, by the action or influence of something
else, then is the thing in which the effect is produced wholly passive
in regard to it. The effect itself is called passion or passiveness. It
is not an act of that in which it is produced; it is an effect resulting
wholly from that which produces it. To say that a thing acts then, is to
say that it is not passive; or, in other words, that its act is not
produced by the action or influence of any thing else. To suppose that
an act is so produced, is to suppose that it is not an act; the object
in which it is said to be caused being wholly passive in regard to it.
If this statement be correct, it follows that an act of the mind cannot
be a produced effect; that the ideas of action and passion, of cause and
effect, are opposite and contrary the one to the other; and hence, it is
absurd to assert that the mind may be caused to act, or that a volition
can be produced by any thing acting upon the mind. This is a
self-evident truth. The younger Edwards calls for proof of it; but the
only evidence there is in the case, is that which arises from the nature
of the things themselves, as they must appear to every mind which will
bestow suitable reflection on the subject. But as he held the
affirmative, maintaining that the mind is caused to act, it would have
been well for him to have furnished proof himself, before he called for
it from the opposite party.
It may be said, that if it were self-evident that the mind cannot be
caused to act, it would appear so to all men, and there could be no
doubt on the subject; that a truth or proposition cannot be said to be
self-evident, unless it carries irresistible conviction to every mind to
which it is proposed. But this does not follow. Previous to the time of
Galileo, it was universally believed by mankind, that if a body were set
in motion, it would run down of itself; though it should meet with no
resistance whatever in its progress. But that great philosopher, by
reflecting on the nature of matter, very clearly saw, that if a body
were put in motion, and met with no resistance, it would continue to
move on in a right line forever. As matter is inert, so he saw that it
could not put itself in motion; and if put in motion by the action of
any thing upon it, he perceived with equal clearness that it could not
check itself in its career. He perceived that it is just as impossible
for passive, inert matter, to change its state from motion to rest, as
it is for it to change its state from rest to motion. Thus, by simply
reflecting upon the nature of matter, as that which cannot act, the mind
of Galileo recognized it as a self-evident and unquestionable truth,
that if a body be put in motion, and there is nothing to impede its
career, it will move on in a right line forever. This great law of
motion, first recognized by Galileo, and afterwards adopted by all other
philosophers, is called the law of inertia; because its truth
necessarily results from the fact, that matter is essentially inert, or
cannot act.
I am aware it has been contended by Mr. Whewell, in his Bridgewater
Treatise, that the law of motion in question is not a necessary or
self-evident truth; and the reason he assigns is, that if it were a
truth of this nature, it would have been recognized and believed by all
men before the time of Galileo. But this reason is not good. For if it
did not appear self-evident to those philosophers who lived before
Galileo, it was because they did not bestow sufficient reflection upon
the subject, and not because it was not a self-evident truth. All men
had seen bodies moving only in a resisting medium, amid counteracting
influences; and having always seen them run down in such a medium, they
very naturally concluded that a body put in motion would run down of
itself. Yielding to an illusion of the senses, instead of rising above
it by a sustained effort of reason and meditation, they supposed that
the motion of a body would spend itself in the course of time, and so
come to an end without any cause of its extinction. This is the reason
why they did not see, what must have appeared to be a self-evident
truth, if they had bestowed sufficient reflection upon the subject,
instead of being swayed by an illusion of the senses.
Mr. Whewell admits the law in question to be a truth; he only denies
that it is a necessary or self-evident truth. Now, if it be not a
necessary truth, I should like to know how he has ascertained it to be a
truth at all. Has any man ever seen a body put in motion, and continue
to move on in a right line forever? Has any man ever ascertained the
truth of this law by observation and experiment? It is evident, that if
it be true at all, it must be a necessary truth. Who that is capable of
rising above the associations of sense, so as to view things as they are
in themselves, can meditate upon this subject, without perceiving that
the law of _inertia_ is a self-evident truth, necessarily arising out of
the very nature of matter?
It does not follow, then, that a truth is not "self-evident", because it
does not appear so to all men; for some may be blinded to the truth by
an illusion of the senses. This is the case, with the necessitarian. He
has always seen the motion of body produced by the action of something
else; and hence, confounding the activity of mind with the motion of
body, he concludes that volition is produced by the prior action of
something else. All that he needs in order to see the impossibility of
such a thing, is severe and sustained meditation. But how can we expect
this from him? Is he not a great reasoner, rather than a great thinker?
Does he not display his skill in drawing logical conclusions from the
illusions of the senses, and assumptions founded thereon; rather than in
laying his foundations and his premises aright, in the immutable depths
of meditation and consciousness? We may appeal to his _reason_, and he
will fall to _reasoning_. We may ask for _meditation_, and he will give
us _logic_. Indeed, he wants that severe and scrutinizing observation
which pierces through all the illusions and associations of the senses,
rising to a contemplation of things as they are in themselves; which is
one of the best attributes of the great thinker.
To show that he does this, I shall begin with President Day. No other
necessitarian has made so formal and elaborate an attempt to prove, that
the mind may be caused to act. He undertakes to answer the objection
which has been urged against the scheme of moral necessity, that it
confounds action and passion. It is alleged, that a volition cannot be
produced or caused by the action or influence of any thing. To this
President Day replies, "these are terms of very convenient ambiguity,
with which it is easy to construct a plausible but fallacious argument.
The word passive is sometimes used to signify that which is _inactive_.
With this meaning, it must, of course, be the opposite of every thing
which is active. To say that that which is in _this_ sense passive, is
at the same time active, is to assert that that which is active is not
active. But this is not the only signification of the term passive in
common use. It is very frequently used to express the relation of an
effect to its cause," p. 159.
Now, here is the distinction, but is it not without a difference? If an
effect is produced, is it not passive in relation to its cause? This is
not denied. Is it active then in relation to any thing? President Day
says it is. But is this so? Is not an effect, which is wholly produced
in one thing by the action or influence of another, wholly passive? Is
not the thing which, according to the supposition, is wholly passive to
the influence acting upon it, wholly passive? In other words; is it made
to act? Does it not merely suffer? If it is endued with an active
nature, and really puts forth an act, is not this act clearly different
from the passive impression made upon it?
One would certainly suppose so, but for the logic of the necessitarian.
Let us examine this logic. "The term passive," says President Day, "is
sometimes employed to express the relation of an effect to its cause. In
this sense, it is so far from being inconsistent with activity, that
activity may be the very effect which is produced. A thing may be
_caused_ to be active. A cannon shot is said to be passive, with respect
to the charge of powder which impels it. But is there no activity given
to the ball? Is not the whirlwind active, when it tears up the forest?"
&c. &c., p. 160.
Now, all these illustrations are brought to show that the mind may be
caused to act;--that it may be passive in relation to the cause of its
volition, and active in relation to the effect of its volition. A more
striking instance could not be adduced to prove the correctness of the
assertion already made, that the necessitarian confounds the motion of
body with the action of mind. "A thing may be caused to act," says
President Day. But how does he show this? By showing that a thing may be
caused to move! "Is no _activity_ given to the ball? Is not the
whirlwind _active_, when it tears up the forest?" And so he goes on,
leaving the light of reason and of consciousness; now rushing into the
darkness of the whirlwind; now riding "on the mountain wave;" and now
plunging into the depths of "volcanic lava;"--all the time in quest of
light respecting the phenomena of mind! We could have wished him to stop
awhile, in the impetuous current of rhetoric, and inform us, whether he
really considers, "the motion of a ball" as the same thing with the
volition of the mind. If he does, then he may suppose that his
illustrations are to the purpose, how great soever may be his mistake;
but if he supposes there is a real difference between them, how can he
ever pretend to show that mind may be caused to act, by showing that
body may be caused to move?
I freely admit, that body may be caused to move. Body is perfectly
passive in motion; and hence, its motion may be caused. But the mind is
not passive in volition; and hence the difference in the two cases. It
is an error, as I have already said, pervading the views of the
necessitarian, that he confounds the action of mind with the motion of
body. Even Mr. Locke, who, in some places, has recognized the essential
difference between them, has frequently confounded them in his
reasonings and illustrations. Hence, it becomes necessary to bear this
distinction always in mind, in the examination of their writings. It
should be rendered perfectly clear to our minds by meditation; and never
permitted to grow dim through forgetfulness. This is indispensably
necessary to shut out the illusions of the senses, in order that we may
have a clear and unclouded view of the phenomena of nature.
Is the motion of body, then, one and the same thing with the action of
mind? They are frequently called by the same name. The motion of mind,
and the action of body, are very common modes of expression. Body is
said to act, when it only moves; and mind is said to move, when it
really acts. These metaphors and supposed analogies are intimately and
inseparably interwoven into the very frame-work of our language; and
hence the necessity of guarding against them in our conceptions. They
are almost as subtle as the great adversary of truth; and therefore we
should be constantly on the watch, lest we should be deceived or misled
by them.
Let us look, then, at these things just as they are in themselves. When
a body moves, it simply passes from one place to another; and when the
mind acts or chooses, it simply prefers one thing to another. Here,
there is no real identity or sameness of nature. The body _suffers_ a
change; the mind itself _acts_. The one is pure passim or passiveness;
the other is pure action--the very opposite of passivity. The one is a
_suffering_, and the other is a _doing_. There are no two things in the
whole range of nature, which are more perfectly and essentially
distinct; and he who confounds them in his reasonings, as philosophers
have so often done, can never arrive at a clear perception of the truth.
President Day, if he intended any thing to the purpose, undertook to
show that an act may be produced in mind, in that which is active, by
the action or influence of something else; and what has he shown? Why,
that body may be caused to move! Let a case be produced in which the
mind, the active soul of man, is made to act: let a case be produced in
which a volition is caused to exist in the soul of man, by the action or
influence of any thing whatever, and it will be something to the
purpose: but what does it signify to tell us, that a body, that that
which is wholly and essentially passive in its nature, may be made to
move, or _suffer_ a change of place? A more palpable sophism was never
perpetrated; and that such a mind should have recourse to such an
argument, only betrays the miserable weakness, and the forlorn
hopelessness, of the cause in which it is enlisted.
Indeed, the learned president seems, after all, to be at least half
conscious that the analogies of matter can throw no light on the
phenomena of mind; and that what he has so eloquently said, amounts to
just nothing at all. For he says, "It may be objected, that these are
all examples of _inanimate_ objects; and that they have no proper
application to mental activity," p. 161. Yes, truly, this is the very
objection which we should urge against all the fine illustrations of
President Day; and it is a full and complete answer to them. It is the
great principle of the inductive study of mind, that its phenomena can
be understood only in so far as we have observed them in the pure light
of consciousness, and no farther; they should never be viewed through
the darkening and confounding analogies of matter.
No one, that I know of, has ever denied that a body may be caused to
move; the only point on which we desire to be enlightened is, whether
the mind may be caused to act. To this point President Day next directly
comes. Leaving "inanimate objects," he says, "take the case of deep and
earnest thinking. Is there no activity in this? And is it without a
cause? When reading the orations of Demosthenes, or the demonstrations
of Newton, are our minds wholly inactive; or if they think intensely,
have our thoughts no dependence on the book before us?" p. 161. Truly,
there is activity in this, in our "deep and earnest thinking"; but what
is the cause of this activity? Does the book before us _cause_ us to
think? This is the point at which the argument of the author is driving,
and to which it should come, if it would be to the purpose, and yet he
does not seem to like to speak it out right manfully; and hence, instead
of saying that the book causes us to think, he chooses to say that our
thoughts have a _dependence_ on the book. It is true, that no man can
read a book, unless he has it to read; and, consequently, his thoughts
in reading the book are absolutely dependent on the possession of it.
But still, the possession of a book is the _condition_, and not the
_cause_, of his reading it. The cause of a thing, and the indispensable
_condition_ of it, are perfectly distinct from each other; and the
argument of Day, in confounding them, has presented us with another
sophism.
The ideas of a condition and of a cause, though so different in
themselves, are always blended together by necessitarians; and hence the
confusion into which they run. Edwards has united them, as we have seen,
under the term cause; and then employed this term to signify the one or
the other at his pleasure. The word "dependence," is the favourite of
President Day; and he uses it with fully as much vagueness and
vacillation of meaning, as Edwards does the term cause. He has
undertaken to show us, that the mind may be _caused_ to act; and he has
shown us, that a particular class of thoughts cannot come to existence,
except upon a particular condition! This is not to reason; but to slip
and to slide from one meaning of an ambiguous word to another.
When it is said that the mind cannot be caused to act, President Day
must have known in what sense the term cause is used in this
proposition. He must have known, that no one meant to assert, that there
are no _conditions_ or _antecedents_, on which the action of the mind
depends. There is not an advocate of free-agency in the universe, who
will contend, that the mind can choose a thing, unless there is a thing
to be chosen; or, to take his own illustration, can read a book, unless
there is a book to be read. The question is not, whether there are
_conditions_, without the existence of which the mind cannot act; this
no one denies; but whether there is, or can be, a real and efficient
cause of the mind's action. The point in dispute, relates not to mere
fact of dependence, but to the _nature_ of that dependence. The question
is, _can the mind be efficiently caused to act?_ This being the
question, what does it signify to tell us, that it cannot read a book,
unless it has a book to read? Or what does it signify to tell us, that a
body may be caused to move? These are mere irrelevancies; they fall
short of the point in dispute; and they only seem to reach it by means
of a very "convenient ambiguity" of words.
But still it may be said, that although a body is passive in motion, it
may act upon other bodies, and thereby communicate motion to them. This
is the ground taken by President Day. "The very same thing," says he,
"may be both cause and effect. The mountain wave, which is the effect of
the wind, may be the cause which buries the ship in the ocean," p. 160.
I am aware, that one body is frequently said to _act_ upon another; but
this word action, as President Day has well said, is a term "of very
convenient ambiguity, with which it is easy to construct a plausible but
fallacious argument," p. 159. The only cause in every case of motion, is
that _force_, whatever it may be, which acts upon the body moved, and
puts it in motion. All the rest is pure passion or passiveness. The
motion of the body is not action; it is the most pure passion of which
the mind can form a conception. If a body in action is said to act upon
another, this is but a metaphor; there is no real action in the case.
Indeed, if a body be put in motion, and meets with no resistance, it
will move on in a right line forever--and why? just because of its
_inertia_, of its inherent destitution of a power to act. As a
mathematician, President Day certainly knew all this; but he seems to
have forgotten it all, in his eagerness to support the cause of moral
necessity.
He saw that motion is frequently called action; he saw that one body is
sometimes said to act upon another; and this was sufficient for his
purpose. He did not reflect upon the natures of motion and of volition,
as they are in themselves; he views them through the medium of an
ambiguous phraseology. Nor did he reflect, that if motion is
communicated from one body to another, this is not because one body
really acts upon another, but because it is impossible for two bodies to
occupy the same place at one and the same time. He did not reflect, that
if motion is communicated from one body to another, this does not arise
from the activity, but from the impenetrability of matter. In short, he
did not reflect, that there is no state or phenomena of matter, whatever
may be its name, that at all resembles the state of mind which we call
action or volition; or else he would have seen, that all his
illustrations drawn from material objects can throw no light on the
point in controversy.
We find the same confusion of things in the works of the Edwardses. We
do not at all confound action and passion, President Edwards contends,
by supposing that acts of the soul are effects, wherein the soul is the
object of something acting upon and influencing it, p. 203. And again,
"It is no more a contradiction to suppose that action may be the effect
of some other cause beside the agent, or being that acts, than to
suppose that life may be the effect of some other cause beside the being
that lives," p. 203. The younger Edwards also asserts, that "to say that
an agent that is acted upon cannot act, is as groundless, as to say,
that a body acted upon cannot move," p. 131. We might adduce many
similar passages; but these are sufficient. What do they prove? If they
are any thing to the purpose, they are only so by confounding motion
with volition, passion with action.
No one would pretend to deny, that the mind may be, and is, caused to
exist, or that the agent may be caused to live. In regard to our being
and living we are perfectly passive; and hence we admit that we may be
caused to exist and to live. _Living_ and _being_ are not _acting_. We
are not passive in regard to volition; this is an act of the mind
itself. The above assertions only overlook the slight circumstance that
_being_ and _doing_ are two different things; that motion is not
volition, that passion is not action. This strange confusion of things
is very common in the writings of the Edwardses, as well as in those of
all other necessitarians.
Edwards held volition to be a produced effect. This identifies a passive
impression made upon the mind, with an act of the mind itself. In order
to escape this difficulty, Edwards was bound to show that action and
passion are not opposite in their natures. "Action, when properly set in
opposition to passion or passiveness," says he, "is no real existence;
it is not the same with _an action_, but is a mere relation." And again,
"Action and passion are not two contrary natures;" when placed in
opposition they are only contrary relations. The same ground is taken by
President Day. "Are not cause and effect," says he, "opposite in their
natures? They are opposite relations, but not always opposite things."
They contend, that an object may be passive in relation to one thing,
and active in relation to another; that a volition may be passive in
relation to its producing cause, and yet active in relation to its
produced effect.
Now, this is not true. An act is opposite in its nature to a passive
impression made upon the mind. This every man may clearly see by
suitable reflection, if he will not blind himself to the truth, as the
necessitarian always does, by false analogies drawn from the world of
matter, and the phenomena of motion. We have seen how President Day has
attempted to show, that an object may be passive in relation to one
thing, and yet active in relation to another; and that in all these
attempts he has confounded the motion of body with the action or choice
of mind. We have seen that all the illustrations adduced to throw light
on this subject are fallacious. Let this subject be studied in the light
of consciousness, not through the darkening and confounding medium of
false analogies, and we may safely anticipate a verdict in our favour.
For who that will closely and steadily reflect upon _an action_ of the
mind, does not perceive that it is different, in nature and in kind,
from a passive impression made upon the mind from without? I do not say
action, which President Edwards seems to think does not signify any
thing positive, such as _an action_, when it is set in opposition to
passion; but I say that _an action_ itself is opposite in its nature to
passion, to a produced effect.
President Edwards cannot escape the absurdity of his doctrine by
alleging, that when action and passion are set in opposition, they do
not signify opposite natures, but only opposite relations. For he has
confounded _an act_ of the mind with a _passive impression_ made
thereon; and these things are opposite in their natures, whether he is
pleased to say that action and passion are opposite _natures_ or not.
This position may be easily established. "I humbly conceive," says he,
"that the affections of the soul are not properly distinguished from the
will, as though they were two faculties in the soul." . . . . "The
affections are no other than the more vigorous and sensible exercises of
the inclination and will of the soul." These passages are referred to by
President Day to prove, that Edwards regarded our "emotions or
affections as acts of the will," p. 39. Having confounded the will and
the sensibility, it became exceedingly easy for Edwards to show that a
volition may be produced or caused: all that he had to do was to show,
that an emotion may be produced, which is the same thing with an act of
the will or a volition. It is upon this confusion of things, that his
whole system rests; for if the sensibility is different from the will,
as most persons, at the present day, will admit it is; then to excite an
emotion, or to make a passive impression upon the sensibility, is very
different from producing a volition.
Edwards has taken great pains with the superstructure of his system,
while he has left its foundations without support. He has not shown, nor
can any man show, that the sensibility and the will are one and the same
faculty of the soul. He assumes that an emotion is an act of the will,
and then proceeds to build upon it, and to argue from it, as if it were
a clear and unquestionable truth. Thus, he repeatedly says, that
whatever pleases us most, or excites the most agreeable sensation, is
that which "operates to induce a volition;" and to say otherwise, is to
assert that that which pleases us most, does not please us most. Such
assertions, (and I have already had occasion to adduce many such,)
clearly identify a sense of the most agreeable, or the most pleasing
emotion, with an act of the will. His definition, as we have already
seen, laid the foundation for this, and his arguments are based upon it.
The passive impression, or the sensation produced, is, according to
Edwards, a volition! No wonder, then, that he could conceive of an
action of the mind _as being produced_. The wonder is, how he could
conceive of it _as being an action at all_.
Let us suppose, now, that a feeling or an emotion is produced by an
object in view of the mind. It will follow, that the mind is passive in
feeling, or in experiencing emotion. We are conscious of such feeling or
emotion; and hence we infer, that we are susceptible of feeling or
emotion. This susceptibility we call the sensibility, the heart, the
affections, &c. But there is another phenomenon of our nature, which is
perfectly distinct in nature and in kind from an emotion or a feeling.
We are conscious of a volition or choice; and hence we infer that we
have a power of acting, or putting forth volitions. This power we call
the will.
Now, the phenomena exhibited by these two faculties of the soul, the
sensibility and the will, are entirely different from each other; and
there is not the least shadow of evidence going to show that the
faculties themselves are one and the same. On the contrary, we are
compelled by a fundamental law of belief, to regard the susceptibility
of our nature, by which we feel, as different from that power of the
soul, by which we act or put forth volitions. The only reason we have
for saying that matter is different from mind, is that its
manifestations or phenomena are different; and we have a similar reason
for asserting, that the emotive part of our nature, or the sensibility,
is distinct from the will. And yet, in the face of all this, President
Edwards has expressly denied that there is any difference between these
two faculties of the soul. It is in this confusion of things, in this
false psychology, that he has laid the foundation of his system.
If President Edwards be right, it is no wonder that the younger Edwards
should so often assert, that it is no more absurd to say, that volition
may be caused, than it is to say, that feeling or emotion may be caused.
For, if the doctrine in question be true, a volition is an emotion or
feeling; and to produce the one is to produce the other. How short and
easy has the path of the necessitarian been made, by a convenient
definition!
If we only bear the distinction between the sensibility and the will in
mind, it will be exceedingly easy to see through the cloudy
sophistications of the necessitarian. "How does it appear to be a
_fact_," asks President Day, "that the will cannot act when it is acted
upon?" I reply that the _will_ is not acted upon at all; that passive
impressions are made upon the sensibility, and not upon the will. This
is a _fact_ which the necessitarian always overlooks.
Again; the same object may be both passive and active; passive with
respect to one thing, and active with respect to another. Thus, says
President Day, "The axe is passive, with respect to the hand which moves
it; but active, with respect to the object which it strikes. The cricket
club is passive in _receiving_ motion from the hand of the player; it is
active in _communicating_ motion to the ball." The fallacy of all such
illustrations, in confounding motion and action, I have already noticed,
and I intend to say nothing more in relation to this point. But there is
another less palpable fallacy in them.
How are such illustrations intended to be applied to the phenomena of
volition? Is it meant, that volition itself is passive in relation to
one thing, and active in relation to another? If so, I reply it is
absurd to affirm, that volition, or an act, is passive in relation to
any thing? Is it meant, that not volition itself, but the will, is
passive to that which acts upon it, while it is active in relation to
its effect? If so, I contend that the will is not acted upon at all;
that the passive impression is made upon the sensibility, and not upon
the will. Is it supposed, that it is neither the volition nor the will,
which is both active and passive at the same time; but that it is the
mind? This may be very true. The mind may be passive, if you please, in
relation to that which acts upon its sensibility, while it is active in
volition; but how does this prove the doctrine, that _an act_ may be
produced by something else acting upon the will? How does this show,
that action and passion are not confounded, in supposing that an act is
caused? The passive impression, the state of the sensibility is produced
but this is not _a volition_. The passive impression exists in the
sensibility; the volition exists in the will. The first is a produced
effect; the last is an act of the mind. And the only way in which this
act of the mind itself has been linked with that which acts upon the
mind, as an effect is linked with its cause, has been by confounding the
_sensibility_ with the _will_; and the light of this distinction is no
sooner held up, than we see that a very important link is wanting in the
chain of the necessitarian's logic. Let this light be carried around
through all the dark corners of his system, and through all its dark
labyrinths of words; and many a lurking sophism will be detected and
brought out from its unsuspected hiding place.
When it is said, that the same thing may be active and passive, this
remark should be understood with reference to the mind itself. The
language of the necessitarian, I am aware, sometimes points to the
volition itself, and sometimes to the will; but we should always
understand him as referring to the mind. He may not have so understood
himself; but he must be so understood. For it is not the will that acts;
it is the mind. This is conceded by the necessitarian. Hence, when he
says, that the same thing may be both active and passive, he must be
understood as applying this proposition to the mind itself; and not to
the will or to volition. It is the mind that acts; and hence the mind
must be also passive; or we cannot say that _the same thing_ may be both
active and passive.
The mind then, it may be said, is both active and passive at the same
time. But it is passive in regard to its emotions and feelings; and
hence, if you please, these may be produced. It is active in regard to
its volitions, or rather in its volitions; and hence these cannot be
produced by the action of any thing upon the mind. To show that they
can, the necessitarian, as we have seen, has confounded a passive
impression with an active volition. If these be distinct, as they most
clearly are, the necessitarian can make his point good, only by showing
that the passive impression made upon the mind, is connected with the
volition of the mind, as a producing cause is connected with its effect.
But this he has not shown; and hence his whole system rests upon
gratuitous and unfounded assumptions. I say his whole system; for if the
mind cannot be caused to act, if it is absurd to speak of a produced
action, it is not true, that an action or volition does or can result
from the necessitating action, or influence of motives.