OF THE ARGUMENT FROM THE FOREKNOWLEDGE OF GOD.
THE argument from the foreknowledge of God, is one on which the
necessitarian relies with great confidence. Nor is this at all
surprising; since to so many minds, even among distinguished
philosophers, the prescience of Deity and the free-agency of man have
appeared to be irreconcilable.
Thus, says Mr. Stewart, "I have mentioned the attempt of Clarke and
others to show that no valid argument against the scheme of free-will
can be deduced from the prescience of God, even supposing _that_ to
extend to all the actions of voluntary beings. On this point I must
decline offering any opinion of my own, because I conceive it as placed
far beyond the reach of our faculties." Dr. Campbell also says, "To
reconcile the divine prescience with the freedom, and even contingency,
and consequently with the good or ill desert of human actions, is what I
have never yet seen achieved by any, and indeed despair of seeing." And
Mr. Locke declares, "I cannot make freedom in man consistent with
omnipotence and omniscience in God, though I am as fully persuaded of
both as of any truth I most firmly assent to; and therefore I have long
since given off the consideration of that subject, resolving all into
this short conclusion, that if it is possible for God to make a
free-agent, then man is free, though I see not the way of it."
Sentiments like these, which are so often met with in the writings of
eminent philosophers, have repeatedly led me to reconsider the
conclusion at which I have arrived on this subject; but I have been able
to discover no reason why it should be abandoned. Indeed, if authority
were a sufficient reason why the great difficulty in question should be
regarded as incapable of being solved, I should abandon it in despair,
and leave the necessitarian to make the most of his argument; but it has
only induced me to proceed with the greater caution; and this, instead
of having shaken my convictions, has settled them with the greater
firmness and clearness in my mind. Whether I am in the right, or whether
I labour under a hallucination, satisfactory only to myself, and
perplexing to all others, I must submit to the candid consideration of
the reader.
Why should it be thought impossible to reconcile the free-agency of man
with the foreknowledge of God? No one pretends that there is any
disagreement between the things themselves, as they really exist; if
there is any discrepancy in the case, it must exist only between our
ideas of foreknowledge and free-agency. Indeed, we cannot think of the
things themselves, or compare them, except by means of the ideas we have
formed of then; and if our ideas of them are really irreconcilable, it
is because they have not been correctly formed, and do not correspond
with the things themselves. What shall we do then? Shall we set to work
to reform our ideas? Shall we explain away the free-agency of man, or
deny the foreknowledge of God? No. We may retain both.
Edwards contends, that volitions are brought to pass by the influence of
motives, and that it is impossible in any case, that a volition should
depart from the influence of the strongest motive. This is the great
doctrine of moral necessity, which it is the object of President Edwards
to establish. Now, if his celebrated argument, or "demonstration," as it
is called, proves this point, then it is to be held as true and valid;
but if it only proves some other thing which is called by the name of
necessity, it is not to the purpose. And if it can be shown, that his
argument does not prove any thing at all in relation to the causation of
choice, it will appear that it has no relevancy to the point at issue.
The foreknowledge of God, I admit, infers the necessity of all human
actions, in one sense of the word; but not that _kind_ of necessity for
which any necessitarian pleads, or against which _any_ libertarian is at
all concerned to contend. The fallacy of the argument in question is,
that it shows all human actions to be necessary in a sense in which it
is not opposed to any scheme of liberty whatever, and assumes them to be
necessary in another and quite different sense; and thus the great
doctrine of freewill, otherwise so clear and unquestionable, is
overshadowed and obscured by an imperfect and ambiguous phraseology,
rather than by the inherent difficulties of the subject. This is the
position which I shall endeavour to establish.
The first argument of President Edwards is as follows. When the
existence of a thing is infallibly and indissolubly connected with
something else, which has already had existence, then its existence is
necessary; but the future volitions of moral agents, are infallibly and
indissolubly connected with the foreknowledge of God; and therefore they
are necessary, p. 114-15. Now this argument is perfectly sound; the
conclusion is really contained in the premise, or definition of
necessity, and it is fairly deduced from it. It is as perfect as any
syllogism in Euclid _but what does it prove?_ It proves that all human
actions are necessary--but in what sense? Does it prove that they are
necessary with a _moral necessity?_ Does it prove that they are brought
to pass by the influence of moral causes? No such thing is even
pretended: "I allow what Dr. Whitby says to be true," says Edwards,
"that mere foreknowledge does not affect the thing known, to _make_ it
more certain or future," p. 122. He admits that foreknowledge exerts "no
influence on the thing known to make it necessary." He does not even
pretend that there is any _moral necessity_ shown to exist by this
argument; and hence his conclusion has no connexion with the great
doctrine of the Inquiry, or the point in dispute. It aims at the word,
but not at the thing. The infallible connexion it shows to exist, is
admitted to be entirely different from the infallible connexion between
moral causes and volitions; that is to say, it is admitted that it does
not prove any thing to the purpose.
But is the indissoluble connexion, or necessity, established by this
argument, at all inconsistent with human liberty? If it is not; and if
our scheme of liberty is perfectly consistent and reconcilable with it;
then it infers nothing, and is nothing, that is opposed to what we hold.
This question admits of an easy solution. The foreknowledge of a future
event proves it to be necessary in precisely the same manner that the
knowledge of a present event shows it to be necessary. This is conceded
by Edwards. "All certain knowledge," says he, "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 it should now be otherwise than true_," p. 121. And
again, "All certain knowledge proves the necessity of the truth known;
whether it be _before_, or _after_, or _at the same time_," p. 124; and
so in other places.
In what sense then, let us inquire, does the knowledge of a present
event prove it to be necessary? It is necessary, says Edwards, because
it is indissolubly connected with the knowledge of it. In other words,
it could not possibly be known to exist, unless it did exist; and hence,
its existence is said to be indissolubly connected with the knowledge of
its existence, or, in other words, it is said to be necessary. This is
all true; but is this indissoluble connexion, or necessity, at all
inconsistent with the contingency of the event known? _This is the
question;_ and let us not lose sight of it in a mist of words. Let it be
distinctly borne in mind, and it will be easily settled.
For this purpose, let us suppose, to adopt the language of President
Edwards, "that nonentity is about to bring forth;" and that an event
comes into being without any cause of its existence. This event then
exists; it is seen, and it is known to exist. Now, even on this wild
supposition, there is an infallible and indissoluble connexion between
the existence of the event and the knowledge of it; and hence it is
necessary, in the sense above explained. But what has this necessary
connexion to do with the cause of its existence? This indissoluble
connexion, this dire necessity, is perfectly consistent, as we have
seen, with the supposition that the event had no cause at all of its
existence. How can it conflict, then, with any scheme of free-agency
that ever was dreamed of by man?
If this argument proves any thing in regard to human actions, it only
proves that a volition has an effect, and not that it has a cause.
Indeed, it has been said, that the knowledge of an event is the effect
of its existence; and the same remark has been extended to the
foreknowledge of God with respect to the future volitions of human
beings. This position is not denied by Edwards; he considers, in fact,
that it strengthens, rather than weakens, his argument. "Because it
shows the existence of the event to be so settled and firm, that _it is
as if it had already been;_ inasmuch as _in effect_ it actually exists
already;" and much more to the same purpose, p.122-3. "It is as strong
arguing," says he, "from the effect to the cause, as from the cause to
the effect."
This is all true; it is as strong arguing from effect to cause, as it is
from cause to effect. But do the arguments prove the same thing? Let us
see. I know a thing to exist; and therefore it does exist. This is to
reason from effect to cause. The conclusion is inevitable; but what does
it prove? Why, it proves that the thing does exist--it proves the bare
fact of existence. The indissoluble connexion, or the necessity, in this
case, exists between the knowledge and the event known; and it has no
relation to the question how the event came to exist. This argument,
then, in regard to human volitions, only proves that they are
indissolubly connected with their effects, and are necessarily implied
by them; just as every cause is implied by its effects: but no
libertarian in the world has ever questioned such a position. For all
that such an argument proves, all the volitions of moral agents may come
into existence, without having the least shadow of reason or ground of
their existence. We admit that volitions are efficient causes; and that
they have effects, with which they are indissolubly connected. Edwards
undertook to show, that volitions are necessary, because they are
infallibly and indissolubly connected with their causes; and he has
shown that they are necessary, because they are infallibly and
indissolubly connected with their effects! This is one branch of his
great argument.
There is another sense, in which the knowledge of an event, whether it
be _fore_, or _after_, or _concomitant_, knowledge, proves it to be
necessary. This sense is not clearly distinguished from the former by
Edwards. He recognizes them both, however, although he blends them
together, and frequently turns from the one to the other in the course
of his argument. It is highly important, and affords no little
satisfaction, to keep them clearly distinct in our minds.
A thing is said to be necessary, as we have seen, because it is
connected with the knowledge of it; and, if a thing does exist, or is
certainly and infallibly known to exist, it may be said to be necessary,
on the principle that it is impossible it should exist and not exist at
one and the same time. These two things are evidently different; and,
for the sake of distinctness in our language, as well as in our
thoughts, I shall call the first a _logical_, and the last an
_axiomatical_ necessity. A thing, then, which does exist, is said to be
necessary with an _axiomatical_ necessity; because it is impossible for
it not to exist while it does exist: and it is said to be necessary,
with a _logical_ necessity, because it is indissolubly connected with
the knowledge of it. The former kind of necessity is frequently
presented in this form of expression, that if a thing does exist, it is
impossible it should be otherwise than true that it does exist. In this
form of expression, it is frequently resorted to by Edwards.
Thus, says he, "I observed before, in explaining the nature of
necessity, that in things which are past, their past existence is now
_necessary;_ having already made sure of existence, _it is now
impossible that it should be otherwise than true, that the thing has
existed_," p. 114-15. Just so we may say in relation to things which now
exist; for, having already made sure of existence, it is impossible it
should be otherwise than true, that they do now exist; or, in other
words, it is impossible they should not exist while they do exist. In
like manner, if the future existence of any thing is foreknown, "it is
impossible it should be otherwise than true," that it should exist, or
come to pass: that is to say, if it will exist, it will be impossible
for it not to exist at the time of its existence.
Foreknowledge, I admit, infers this kind of necessity; but is this any
thing to the purpose? The conclusion is the same, whether it be deduced
from foreknowledge, or concomitant knowledge. Let us suppose, then, for
the sake of clearness and convenience, that a thing is now known to
exist. It follows from hence, by a _logical_ necessity, that it does
exist; for it could not possibly be known to exist, unless it did exist.
And, as it does exist, "it is impossible that it should be otherwise
than true that it does exist;" or, in other words, it is impossible for
it not to exist now, while it does exist. This is all there is in this
part of the argument.
And what does it amount to? It is a simple declaration of what no body
ever denied--that if a thing exists, or is to exist, or has existed, it
is impossible to conceive of it as not existing at the time of its
existence. All this is perfectly true, without the least reference to
the question, how it came to exist, or how it will come to exist? It is
wholly irrelevant to the point at issue. It controverts no position,
held by any sane man that now lives, or that ever has lived.
In other words, if a thing is known to exist, certainly and infallibly,
then it does exist; and if it does exist, then "it is impossible it
should be otherwise than true" that it does exist; and hence its
existence is said to be necessary with an _axiomatical_ necessity. But
this does not prove that it is _necessarily produced_. For, supposing it
to exist, its existence would be necessary in the above sense, even if
it had no cause of its existence. The necessity here referred to, is a
necessity _in the order of our ideas_, and not _in the course of
events_. It arises from the impossibility of a thing's not existing at
the time it does exist; and it has no reference whatever to the
causation of any thing: it is a fundamental law of belief, and not a
_causal_ necessity. These three things, an _axiomatical_, a _logical_,
and a _causal_ necessity, are most strangely confounded in the argument
of President Edwards.
Will it be said, that in this argument, it was not the object of
Edwards, to prove that there is a moral necessity in regard to our
volitions; but only that they are "not without all necessity?" Suppose
this to be the case, with whom has he any controversy, or to what
purpose has he argued? No one has ever held that human volitions are
"without all necessity," according to Edwards' use of that term; and no
one can hold it. No one can deny, that there is an indissoluble
connexion between the existence of a thing, and the certain and
infallible knowledge of its existence; or between the effect of a thing
and the thing itself; or that it is impossible for a thing not to exist
while it does exist. In these senses of the word, all rational creatures
are bound to acknowledge that human volitions are necessary. The most
strenuous advocate of free-agency has not one word to say against them;
and such being the meaning of Edwards, we must all heartily concur with
him, when he says, "that there is no geometrical theorem or proposition
whatever more capable of _strict demonstration_, than that God's certain
prescience of the volition of moral agents is inconsistent with such a
contingency of these events, _as is without all necessity_," p. 125-6.
If it can be truly said, that a thing is foreknown, it follows that it
will come to pass, or the proposition which affirms the future existence
of it, is necessarily true. In other words, it is self-contradictory and
absurd, to assert that a thing is foreknown, and yet that it may not
come to pass; just as it is to assert that a thing is known to exist and
yet at the same time does not exist. Hence, it is frequently alleged by
Edwards, that to deny his conclusions, drawn from foreknowledge, is
self-contradictory and absurd; unless we deny foreknowledge itself. To
admit this, says he, and yet contend that the thing foreknown may
possibly not be, is to fall into a plain contradiction, and "to suppose
God's foreknowledge to be inconsistent with itself," p. 117. Is it not
strange, that it did not occur to Edwards, that if to deny his position
is to deny that God foreknows what he foreknows; then to affirm it, is
only to affirm that he foreknows what he foreknows? Indeed, all those
reasonings in which he represents the denial of his position as
self-contradictory and absurd, should have convinced him that he could
prove nothing to the purpose, by arguing from the foreknowledge of God,
or else he must assume the very thing in dispute, by taking it for
granted that it is future; or, which is the same thing in effect, that
it is foreknown. For in admitting any premise, we admit, no more than is
contained in it; and if we only deny what is not contained in our
admission, we are not involved in a self-contradiction, or absurdity. In
alleging that we have done this, therefore, in the present case;--in
alleging that we contradict ourselves by admitting the foreknowledge of
God, and in denying necessity, he takes it for granted that the very
thing in dispute is included in that foreknowledge. In other words, if
Edwards does not mean to say, that the point in dispute is included in
the foreknowledge of God; then he cannot say, that we contradict
ourselves by admitting that divine prescience; and if he does mean to
say, that the thing which we deny is included in the foreknowledge of
God, then he begs the question.
It is freely conceded, that whatever God foreknows will most certainly
and infallibly come to pass. He foresees all human volitions; and,
therefore, they will most certainly and infallibly come to pass, in some
manner or other: the bare fact of their future existence is clearly
established by God's foreknowledge of them. And if all human volitions
will be brought to pass, by the operation of moral causes; then this
manner of their existence is foreknown to God, and will all come to pass
in this way; but to take this for granted, is to beg the question. We
have just as much right to suppose, that God foreknows that the
volitions of moral agents are not necessitated, as the necessitarian has
to suppose that He foreknows the contrary; and then it would follow that
our volitions are necessarily free, or without any producing causes. If
God foreknows that our actions will come to pass in the way we call
freely, (and we have as much right to this supposition as our opponents
have to the contrary,) then, as foreknowledge infers necessity, our
actions are necessarily free. And surely, if the necessity which is
inferred from foreknowledge, is predicable of freedom itself, it cannot
be inconsistent with it.
In other words, if the necessity of human volitions, according to the
scheme of Edwards, be a fact, then it was foreknown to God that such is
the fact; and, if we please, we may infer the fact from his
foreknowledge, after having inferred his foreknowledge from the fact. On
the other hand, if the scheme of necessity be a mere hypothesis, having
no corresponding reality in the universe; then God never foreknew that
it is according to such scheme that all human actions are brought to
pass; unless he foreknew things to be necessitated which in reality are
not necessitated. Hence, we can prove nothing by reasoning from the
foreknowledge of God; except what we first assume to be true, and
consequently foreknown to Him; and, if we choose to resort to this
pitiful way of begging the question, we may prove our hypothesis just as
well as any other.
The foreknowledge of an event, as I have already said, proves nothing
more nor less than _the bare certainty_ of its future existence; it
decides nothing as _to the manner_ of its coming into existence. The
necessitarian may ring the changes upon this subject as long as he
pleases, and all he can possibly make out of it is, that if God
foreknows a thing, it will certainly be, and to suppose otherwise, is a
contradiction. Thus, says Edwards, "To suppose the future volitions of
moral agents not to be necessary events; or, which is the same thing,
events which it is not possible but that they may come to pass; and yet
to suppose that God certainly foreknows them, and knows all things, is
to suppose God's knowledge to be inconsistent with itself. For to say
that God certainly, and without all conjecture, knows that a thing will
infallibly be, which at the same time he knows to be so _contingent_
that it may possibly not be, is to suppose his knowledge inconsistent
with itself; or that one thing he knows is utterly inconsistent with
another thing he knows. It is the same as to say, he now knows a
proposition to be of certain infallible truth, which he knows to be of
contingent uncertain truth. If a future volition is so without all
necessity, that nothing hinders but it may not be, then the proposition
which asserts its future existence is so uncertain, that nothing hinders
but that the truth of it may entirely fail. And if God knows all things,
he knows this proposition to be thus uncertain; and that is inconsistent
with his knowing it to be infallibly true; and so inconsistent with his
knowing that it is true." p. 117. Now all this going around and around
amounts to just this, that if God certainly and infallibly foreknows a
thing, he certainly and infallibly foreknows it, or that if it will
certainly come to pass, it will certainly come to pass.
We admit that the certainty of all future events is implied in God's
foreknowledge of them. Does the argument in question prove any more than
the bare fact of the certainty of the events foreknown? The argument, so
far as we have yet followed it, clearly does not. It merely proves the
bare fact of the certainty of existence. Indeed, Edwards himself says,
that "metaphysical or philosophical necessity," (and this is the
necessity for which he here contends,) "is nothing different from their
certainty." p. 23. And the younger Edwards frequently says, "If a
proposition asserting some future event, be a real and absolute truth,
there is an absolute certainty of the event; _such absolute certainty is
all that is implied in the divine foreknowledge; and all the moral
necessity for which we plead_." p. 160. Now, if these writers merely
mean that a thing is certain, when they say it is necessary, it is to be
regretted that they did not use the right word. It would have saved
their works from no little confusion.
But the truth is, that the moral necessity for which they contend
consists sometimes in the certainty of an event, and sometimes in _the
ground_ of that certainty. Volitions are said to be morally necessitory
in their definition, and in their system, because they are _made certain
by the influence of moral causes_. But in their arguments, and the
defence of their system, _the bare absolute certainty_, without any
reference to the ground of it, is frequently all that is meant by moral
necessity. Thus, they build upon one idea of necessity, while they
attack and defend themselves upon another idea thereof.
This is our present starting point then, agreed upon by all sides, that
the foreknowledge of God infers the certainty of all future realities.
Now, how can we conclude from hence, that the volitions of moral agents
are, not only certain, but rendered certain by the influence of moral
causes? It may be said, that it is sufficient that the foreknowledge of
God proves that human volitions will certainly come to pass in some way
or other; for if they will certainly come to pass in any way, we know
that they must have some cause of their existence; and it is just as
absurd to suppose that a volition can come into being without any cause
of its existence, as it is to suppose that a world can come into being
of itself. If this ground should be taken, (and it certainly will be,)
the reply is obvious. It would show that the divine prescience can only
prove the certainty of future events while it is left to the old maxim,
that every effect must have a cause, in order to make out the doctrine
of moral necessity, or the point in dispute! It would show, that after
all the parade made with the divine prescience, it leaves the whole
argument to rest upon ground which has already been occupied by one
side, and fully considered by the other! It would only show, that a
great pretence of demonstration had been made from the foreknowledge of
God; whereas, in fact, it proves nothing to the purpose, unless "its
most impotent and lame conclusion" be helped out by something else!
Another attempt is made to link the conclusion drawn from the
foreknowledge of God, with the point to be established by the
necessitarian. It is said, that God could not foreknow all future
events, unless he views them as connected with known causes. This ground
is taken by many eminent necessitarians. Thus, says Dr. John Dick,
"Future events cannot be foreseen, unless they are certain; they cannot
be certain, unless God have determined to bring them to pass."
The same position is assumed by President Edwards, "There must be a
certainty in things themselves," says he, "before they are certainly
foreknown." . . . "There must be a certainty in things to be a ground of
certainty of knowledge, and render things capable of being known to be
certain." p. 122. Now, what is this certainty in things themselves, or
in human volitions, without which they are incapable of being foreknown?
The answer is obvious; for Edwards every where contends, that unless
volitions are brought to pass by the _influence_ of moral causes--that
unless they are necessarily produced by an "effectual power and
efficacy"--they are altogether uncertain and contingent, and connected
with nothing that can render them certain. Hence, he clearly maintains,
that unless human volitions are necessarily brought to pass by the
influence of motives, they are not certain in themselves, and hence are
incapable of being foreknown. And besides, he has a laboured argument to
prove, that God could not foreknow the future volitions of moral agents,
unless he views them as "necessarily connected with something else that
is evident." pp. 115-117. This something else is not foreknowledge
itself; for it is the ground of foreknowledge, it is the necessary
influence of motives, or moral causes. But we need not dwell upon this
point, as this is so evidently his meaning; and if it is not, then it is
nothing to the purpose.
If Edwards means that a thing cannot be foreknown unless it has a
sufficient ground and reason for its existence, and does not of itself
come forth out of nothing, we are not at all concerned to deny his
position. Every advocate of free-agency contends, that volition proceeds
from the mind, acting in view of motives; and therefore is not destitute
of a sufficient ground and reason of its existence. He denies that
volition is necessarily brought to pass by the operation of motives.
Hence, if Edwards merely means that God could not foreknow a human
volition, unless he foreknew all the circumstances in view of the mind
when it is to act, as well as the nature and all the circumstances of
the mind from which the act is to proceed; no advocate of free-agency is
at all concerned to deny his position. It may be true, or it may be
false; but it establishes nothing which may not be consistently admitted
by the advocates of free-agency. If he means any thing to the purpose,
he must mean, that God could not foresee human volitions, unless they
are necessarily connected with causes, according to his scheme of moral
necessity; that is, unless they are necessarily produced by "the action
or influence" of motives, or moral causes. If this is his meaning, then
indeed it is something to the purpose; but what unbounded presumption is
it, on the part of a poor blind worm of the dust, thus to set bounds and
limits to the modes of knowledge possesssd by an infinite, all-knowing
God! It is true, that "no understanding, created or uncreated, can see
evidence where there is none"; but what kind of evidence that is, by
which all things are rendered perfectly clear to the eye of Omniscience,
it is surely not for us to determine. That all things are known to God,
is freely admitted; but that they can be known, only by reason of their
resulting from the necessitating influence of known causes, which are
themselves necessitated, is more than any finite mind should presume to
affirm. It were, indeed, to make our shallow, limited, and feeble
intellects, the measure of all possible modes of knowledge. It were to
make God like one of ourselves. Yet this position the necessitarian has
been compelled to assume. After all his pretended demonstrations from
the foreknowledge of God, his argument can reach the point in dispute,
only by means of this tremendous flight of presumption.
Let the necessitarian show, that God cannot foresee future events,
unless he "have determined to bring them to pass," or unless they are
brought to pass by a chain of producing causes, ultimately connected
with his own will; and he will prove something to the purpose. But let
him not talk so boastfully about demonstrations, while there is this
exceedingly weak link in the chain of his argument. If God were so like
one of ourselves, that he could not foresee future volitions, unless
they are brought to pass by the operation of known causes; then, I
admit, that his foreknowledge would infer the moral necessity for which
Edwards contends, provided he really possesses that knowledge; but if he
were so imperfect a being, I should be compelled to believe, that there
are some things which he could not foreknow.
This assumption comes with a peculiarly ill grace from the
necessitarian. He should be the last man to contend, that God cannot
foresee future events unless they are involved in known producing
causes; just as all that we know of the future is ascertained by
reasoning from known causes to effects. For he contends that with God,
"there is no time"; but that to His view all things are seen as if they
were present. His knowledge is without succession, and there is no
before nor after with him; all things are intimately present to his mind
from all eternity. Such is the doctrine of both the Edwardses; and Dr.
Dick believes, that "God sees all things at a glance."
Now, present things are not known to exist, because they are implied by
known causes, but because they are present and seen. And hence, if God
sees all things as present, there is not the shadow of a foundation
whereon to rest the proof of "moral necessity" from his foreknowledge.
It is all taken away by their own doctrine, and their argument is left
without the least support from it.
Indeed, there is no need of lugging the foreknowledge of God into the
present controversy, except it be to deceive the mind. For all future
events will certainly and infallibly come to pass, whether they are
foreknown or not; and foreknowledge cannot make the matter any more
certain than it is without it. We may say that God foreknows all things,
and we may mix this up with all possible propositions; but this will
never help the conclusion, that "all future things will certainly and
infallibly come to pass." If God should cease to foreknow all future
volitions, or if he had never foreknown them, they would, nevertheless,
just as certainly and infallibly come to pass, as if he had foreknown
them from all eternity. The bare naked fact, that they are future infers
all that is implied in God's foreknowledge of them; and it is just as
much a contradiction in terms, to say that what is future will not come
to pass, as it is to say, that what God foreknows will never take place.
Hence, by bringing in the prescience of Deity, we do not really
strengthen or add to the conclusion in favour of necessity. It only
furnishes a very convenient and plausible method of begging the
question, or of seeming to prove something by hiding our sophisms in the
blaze of the divine attributes. It only serves as a veil, behind which
is concealed those sophistical tricks, by which both the performer and
the spectator are deceived. This whole argument from the foreknowledge
of God, is, indeed, a grand specimen of undesigned metaphysical
jugglery, by which the mind is called off in one direction, whilst it is
deceived, perplexed, and confounded, by not seeing what takes place in
another.
It appears from these things, that those persons who have endeavoured to
clear up this matter, by supposing that some things are not foreknown to
God; have only got rid of one of the divine attributes, and not of their
difficulty. It appears also, that Edwards might have made his argument
far more simple and direct, by leaving out the long section in which he
proves that God really foreknows all _future_ things; and confining
himself to the simple proposition, "that all future events will
certainly and infallibly come to pass;" that "it is a contradiction in
terms to say that a thing is future and yet that it will not come to
pass"; or, in other words, "if a thing is future, _it is impossible it
should be otherwise than true_," that it will come to pass. And how
unreasonable are those, who have imagined that we are free-agents,
because God has chosen not to foresee our free actions; as if the
supposition that he might have foreseen them, does not infer necessity
just as much as the fact that he does foresee them. Indeed, these
reasoners seem to have expected to see one truth, by shutting their eyes
upon another!
Mr. Hobbes has an argument to prove necessity, precisely like that of
Edwards, except that its nakedness is not covered up with the
foreknowledge of God. "Let the case be put," says he, "of the weather:
'tis necessary that to-morrow it shall rain or not rain. If, therefore,
it be not necessary that it shall rain, it is necessary it shall not
rain; otherwise there is no necessity that the proposition, it shall
rain or not rain, should be true." This sophism confounds the
_axiomatical necessity_ referred to in the premise, that it must rain or
not rain, with the _causal necessity_ intended to be deduced from it in
the conclusion. This poor sophism has been adopted by Mr. Locke, and
seriously employed to prove that human volitions "cannot be free." Thus,
says he, "It is unavoidably necessary to prefer the doing or forbearance
of an action in a man's power, which is once proposed to a man's
thoughts. The act of volition or preferring one of the two, being that,
which he cannot avoid, a man in respect of that act of willing is under
necessity." Here we have precisely the same confusion of an
_axiomatical_ with a _causal_ necessity, that occurs in the argument of
Mr. Hobbes. And yet, the younger Edwards has deemed this argument of Mr.
Locke as worthy of his special notice and commendation; and President
Day falls in with the same idea, alleging that "we will because we
cannot avoid willing," because we must either choose or refuse. Is it
not wonderful, that these philosophers should have imagined, that they
had any controversy with any one, in contending so manfully that the
mind, under certain circumstances, must either choose or refuse? or that
they could infer any thing from this, in favour of a causal
necessity--the only question in dispute? With what clearness! with what
force! would President Edwards have dashed this poor flimsy sophism into
a thousand atoms, if he had come across it in the atheism of Hobbes!
But, unfortunately, he came across it in a different direction; and
hence, he has rescued it from the loathsome dunghill of atheistical
trash, invested it with dignity, seeming to clothe it in the solemn
sanction of religion, by covering it up in the ample folds of the divine
Omniscience.
This, then, is the conclusion of the whole matter. The prescience of God
does not _make_ our volitions necessary; it only _proves_ them to be
certain. This is conceded by Edwards. It proves them to be certain, just
as present knowledge proves them to be certain. This also is admitted by
Edwards. But present knowledge proves an act of the mind to be certain,
because it is infallibly connected with that knowledge, and not because
it is necessitated by the influence of a cause. It proves it to be
certain, because it is impossible for a volition, or any thing else, not
to exist at the time of its existence, and not because it is impossible
for it to come to pass without being necessitated. In short, it proves
an _axiomatical_ and a _logical_ necessity, but not a _causal_
necessity; that is to say, it proves nothing to the point in dispute.
The necessitarian can connect his conclusion with the thing he has
undertaken to prove, in only one of two ways: he may say, that if an
event is certain, it cannot come into existence without a producing
cause; or he may allege, that God cannot foresee them, unless he is
determined to bring them to pass. If he takes the former position, he
really discards the argument from foreknowledge, and returns for support
to the old argument, that every effect must have a cause. And if he
assumes the latter, maintaining that God cannot foreknow future events
unless he reasons from producing causes to effects, he builds his
argument, not upon foreknowledge alone, but upon this in connection with
a most unwarrantable flight of presumption, without which the argument
from prescience is good for nothing.
And besides, the bringing in of the divine prescience, only serves to
blind, and not to illuminate. For God foreknows only what is future; and
all future things will come to pass just as infallibly, without being
foreknown, as they will with it. If we assume them to be future, it is
just as much a contradiction to deny that they will come to pass; as it
is to assume that they are foreknown and yet deny it. Nothing can be
proved in this way, except what is assumed or taken for granted; and the
foreknowledge of God is only a plausible way of begging the question, or
concealing a sophism.
In conclusion, the necessitarian takes the wrong course in his
inquiries, and lays his premises in the dark. To illustrate this
point:--I know that I act; and hence, I conclude that God foreknew that
I would act. And again, I know that my act is not necessitated, that it
does necessarily proceed from the action, or influence of causes; and
hence, I conclude that God foreknew that I would thus act freely, in
precisely this manner, and not otherwise. Thus, I reason from what I
know to what I do not know, from my knowledge of the actual world as it
is, up to God's foreknowledge respecting it.
The necessitarian pursues the opposite course. He reasons from what he
does not know, that is, from the particulars of the divine
foreknowledge, about which he absolutely knows nothing _a priori_, down
to the facts of the actual world. Thus, quitting the light which shines
so brightly within us and around us, he seeks for light in the midst of
impenetrable darkness. He endeavours to determine the phenomena of the
world, not by looking at them and seeing what they are; but by deducing
conclusions from God's infinite foreknowledge respecting them!
In doing this, a grand illusion is practised, by his merely supposing
that the volitions themselves are foreknown, without taking into the
supposition the whole of the case, and recollecting that God not only
foresees all our actions, but also all about them. For if this were
done, if it were remembered that He not only foresees that our volitions
will come to pass, but also _how_ they will come to pass; the
necessitarian would see, that nothing could be proved in this way except
what is first tacitly assumed. The grand illusion would vanish, and it
would be clearly seen, that if the argument from foreknowledge proves
any thing, it just as well proves the _necessity of freedom_ as any
thing else.
Indeed, it does seem to me, that it is one of the most wonderful
phenomena in the history of the human mind, that, in reasoning about
facts in relation to which the most direct and palpable sources of
evidence are open before us, so many of its brightest ornaments should
so long have endeavoured to draw conclusions from "the dark unknown" of
God's foreknowledge; without perceiving that this is to reject the true
method, to invert the true order of inquiry, and to involve the inquirer
in all the darkness and confusion inseparable therefrom: without
perceiving that no powers, however great, that no genius, however
exalted, can possibly extort from such a method any thing but the dark,
and confused, and perplexing exhibitions of an ingenious logomachy.