OF EDWARDS' USE OF THE TERM NECESSITY.
IN the controversy concerning the will, nothing is of more importance,
it will readily be admitted, than to guard against the influence of the
ambiguity of words. Yet, it may be shown, that President Edwards has
used the principal terms in this controversy in an exceedingly loose and
indeterminate manner. This he has done especially in regard to the term
_necessity_. His very definition prepares the way for such an abuse of
language.
"_Philosophical necessity_," says he, "is really nothing else than the
FULL AND FIXED CONNEXION BETWEEN THE THINGS SIGNIFIED BY THE SUBJECT AND
PREDICATE OF A PROPOSITION, which affirms something to be true. When
there is such a connexion, then the thing affirmed in the proposition is
necessary, in a philosophical sense, whether any opposition or contrary
effort be supposed or no. When the subject and predicate of the
proposition, which affirms the existence of any thing, either substance,
quality, act, or circumstance, have a full and CERTAIN CONNEXION, then
the existence or being of that thing is said to be _necessary_ in a
metaphysical sense. And in this sense I use the word _Necessity_, in the
following discourse, when I endeavour to prove _that Necessity is not
inconsistent with Liberty_."
"The subject and predicate of a proposition, which affirms existence of
something, may have a full, fixed, and certain connexion several ways."
"1. They may have a full and perfect connexion _in and of themselves;_
because it may imply a contradiction, or gross absurdity, to suppose
them not connected. Thus many things are necessary in their own nature.
So the eternal existence of being, generally considered, is necessary
_in itself;_ because it would be in itself the greatest absurdity, to
deny the existence of being in general, or to say there was absolute and
universal nothing; and as it were the sum of all contradictions; as
might be shown, if this were the proper place for it. So God's infinity,
and other attributes are necessary. So it is necessary _in its own
nature_, that two and two should be four; and it is necessary, that all
right lines drawn from the centre to the circumference should be equal.
It is necessary, fit, and suitable, that men should do to others, as
they would that they should do to them. So innumerable metaphysical and
mathematical truths are necessary _in themselves_; the subject and
predicate of the proposition which affirms them, are perfectly connected
of _themselves_."
"2. The connexion of the subject and predicate of a proposition, which
affirms the existence of something, may be fixed and made certain,
because the existence of that thing is _already_ come to pass; and
either now is, or has been; and so has, as it were, made sure of
existence. And therefore, the proposition which affirms present or past
existence of it, may by this means, be made certain, and necessarily and
unalterably true; the past event has fixed and decided the matter, as to
its existence; and has made it impossible but that existence should be
truly predicated of it. Thus the existence of whatever is already come
to pass, is now become necessary; it is become impossible it should be
otherwise than true, that such a thing has been."
"3. The subject and predicate of a proposition which affirms something
to be, may have a real and certain connexion _consequentially_; and so
the existence of the thing may be consequentially necessary, as it may
be surely and firmly connected with something else, that is necessary in
one of the former respects. As it is either fully and thoroughly
connected with that which is absolutely necessary in its own nature; or
with something which has already made sure of its existence. This
necessity lies _in_, and may be explained _by_, the connexion between
two or more propositions, one with another. Things which are _perfectly
connected_ with other things that are necessary, are necessary
themselves, by a necessity of consequence."
After having defined what he means by philosophical or metaphysical
necessity, he tells us, that this is the sense in which he uses the
word, when he endeavours to show that necessity is not inconsistent with
liberty. And yet under "this sense," how many totally distinct ideas are
embraced! The eternal existence of being in general; the attributes of
God; the proposition that two and two are four; the equality of the
radii of a circle; the moral duty that we should do as we would be done
by; the existence of a thing which has already come to pass; the
existence of things, that are connected with that which is absolutely
necessary in itself, or with something that has already made sure of its
existence; the connexion of two or more propositions with each
other--all these things are included in his definition of philosophical
necessity! And yet he tells us, that he uses the term in this sense (in
what sense?) when he undertakes to reconcile liberty with necessity!
When he says, that he employs the word in _this_ sense, one would
suppose that, as a great metaphysician, he referred to some one of its
precise and definite significations; but no such thing. He merely refers
to its philosophical sense, which, according to his own explanation,
embraces a multitude of different ideas. Hence, although he may keep
close to this philosophical sense of the word, "in the ensuing
discourse;" yet he may, before the discourse is concluded, shift his
position a thousand times from one of these ideas to another. And he may
always seem, to superficial observers, to speak of the same thing;
because although the things spoken of are really different, they are all
drawn together under one definition, and called by one name. He not only
may have done this; he actually has done it. And if he had formed the
express design to envelope the whole subject in a cloud of sophistry, he
could not have taken a better course to accomplish his object.
It was the design of the Inquiry to establish the doctrine of moral
necessity; and hence it was incumbent on President Edwards to reconcile
this kind of necessity, and not philosophical necessity, with the
free-agency of man. He contends that there is a necessary connexion
between the influence of motives and volitions. This he calls moral
necessity. It differs from natural necessity, says he, it differs from
the necessary connexion between cause and effect; but yet, he expressly
tells us, that this difference "does not lie so much _in the nature of
the connexion_, as in the _terms connected_." In both cases, he
maintains, the connexion is necessary and absolute. The two terms
connected are different; but the kind and nature of the connexion is the
same. This is the kind of necessity for which he pleads; and we can
never be satisfied with his scheme, until the term shall be used in this
precise and definite sense, and the doctrine it expresses shall be shown
to be consistent with the true idea and feeling of liberty in the human
breast. It will not, it cannot satisfy the mind, that any other kind of
necessity is reconcilable with liberty; while it remains to be shown
that moral necessity, as it is defined and explained in the Inquiry, is
consistent with the free-agency of man.
There is one sense of the term in question, says he, "which especially
belongs to the controversy about acts of the will," p. 30. It is what he
calls "a necessity of consequence." This would be very true, if he
merely meant by a necessity of consequence, to refer to the necessary
connexion between cause and effect. But this is not his meaning; for he
expressly says, that "a necessity of consequence" "lies _in_, and may be
explained _by_, the connexion of two or more propositions one with
another." Now what has the connexion between any two or all the
propositions in the universe, to do with the controversy about acts of
the will? Is it not evident, that it is the connexion which subsists
between effects and their producing causes, and which is supposed to
subsist between motives and actions, that has to do with the controversy
in question; and that the connexion which subsists between two or more
propositions is entirely foreign to the subject?
It may be said, that by "a necessity of consequence," Edwards referred
not only to the connexion between two or more propositions, but also to
the connexion between cause and effect. This is undoubtedly true; for he
speaks of effects as coming to pass by this kind of necessity. But then
it is to be lamented that two ideas, which are so perfectly distinct,
should have been couched under the same mode of expression, and treated
as if they were identically the same. Such a confounding of different
ideas, has led to no little confusion and error in the reasoning of
President Edwards.
The subject of the last section furnishes a striking illustration of the
justness of this remark. From the proposition that a volition is
certainly and infallibly foreknown, it follows, by a necessity of
consequence, that it will come to pass. This is an instance of the
necessary connexion between two ideas or propositions; between the idea
or proposition, that a certain volition is foreknown, and the idea that
it will come to pass; between the proposition which affirms that, it is
foreknown, and the idea that it will come to pass in other words, the
proposition which affirms that it is foreknown, necessarily assumes that
it will come to pass; and to deny this assumption, at the same time that
we make it, is surely to be guilty of a contradiction in terms. To
suppose that a volition will not come to pass, is inconsistent with the
proposition that it is certainly and infallibly foreknown. Edwards
himself has frequently declared that this is the kind of necessity which
is inferred from foreknowledge.
In truth, the necessary connexion which exists between the idea that a
thing is foreknown, and the truth of the proposition which predicates
future existence of it, is perfectly distinct from the necessary
connexion between cause and effect. They are as widely different, as the
connexion between any two propositions in Euclid is from the connexion
between the motion of a ball and the force by which it is put in motion.
Hence, the kind of necessity which is involved in the idea of
foreknowledge, has nothing to do with the controversy about acts of the
will.
There is, in like manner, a necessary connexion between the idea that a
volition is now certainly and infallibly known to exist, and the truth
of the proposition which affirms present existence of it; and hence, its
present existence is necessary, by "a necessity of consequence,"
according to the definition of President Edwards. But all this has no
relevancy to the question, as to _how_ that volition came to pass. Its
present existence is necessarily connected with the idea that it is
certainly known to exist; but this is "a necessity of consequence" which
"lies in, and may be explained by, the connexion between two or more
propositions." It is not "a necessity of consequence" that lies _in_, or
can be explained _by_, the connexion between cause and effect. The two
things are entirely different, and it is strange, that they should
always have been confounded by President Edwards. I do most certainly
and infallibly know, for example, that I am now _willing_ to write; and
from this knowledge, it necessarily follows, that I am now _willing_ to
write. But if any one should infer from hence, that I am necessitated to
write, by the operation of some cause, we should certainly think his
inference very badly drawn. Yet this is precisely the way in which the
necessitarian proceeds, when he infers the necessity of human actions
from the foreknowledge of God. He confounds the necessary connexion
between two propositions, with the necessary connexion between cause and
effect. This single ambiguity has been a mighty instrument in the
building up of that portentous scheme of necessity, which has seemed to
overshadow the glory and beauty of man's nature as a free and
accountable being.
This is not the only ambiguity of the term in question which has been
turned to account by the necessitarian. In opposition to the scheme of
moral necessity, or the necessary connexion between volitions and the
influence of motives, it has been said, that volitions are produced
neither by motives, nor by preceding acts of choice. This is a direct
denial of the doctrine of moral necessity, of the only thing which we
are at all concerned to deny. We may thus attempt to escape from the
thing, but the name still pursues us.
For, to this view of the subject, President Edwards replies as follows:
"If any shall see cause to deny this, and say they hold no such thing as
that every action is chosen or determined by a foregoing choice; but
that the very first exertion of will only, undetermined by any preceding
act, is properly called action; then I say, such a man's notion of
action implies necessity; for what the mind is the subject of, without
the determination of its own previous choice, it is the subject of
necessarily, as to any hand that free choice has in the affair; and
without any ability the mind has to prevent it, by any will or election
of its own; because by the supposition it precludes all previous acts of
the will or choice in the case, which might prevent it. So that it is
again, in this other way, implied in the notion of an act, that, it is
both necessary and not necessary," p. 199. It is in this manner, that
President Edwards disposes of this important view of the subject of
free-agency. Let us examine his logic.
In the first place, the argument is not sound. It proceeds on the
supposition, that unless a volition is produced, it cannot be prevented,
by a preceding act of volition. This is a false supposition. I choose,
for example, to go out at one of the doors of my room. This choice is
not produced by any preceding act of choice. And yet I can certainly
prevent it, by choosing to go out at the other door of the room, or by
choosing to sit still. Thus one act of choice may, from the very nature
of things, necessarily exclude or prevent another act of choice;
although it could not possibly have produced that other act of choice.
But suppose the argument to be sound, what does it prove? It proves our
actions to be necessary; but in what sense? Does it show them to be
subject to that moral necessity, for which Edwards contends, and against
which we protest? This is the question, let me repeat, which we have
undertaken to discuss; and if we would not wander in an eternal maze of
words, we must keep to it; it is the talisman which is to conduct us out
of all our difficulties and perplexities. It is the first point, and the
second point, and the third point in logic, to keep to the issue,
steadily, constantly, and without the least shadow of turning. Otherwise
we shall lose ourselves in a labyrinth of words, in darkness and
confusion interminable.
In what sense, then, does the above argument, supposing it to be sound,
prove our actions to be necessary? Does it prove them to be necessary
with a moral necessity? It does not. According to the argument in
question, volitions are necessary, "_as to any hand free choice has in
the affair;_ because _by the supposition_ it precludes all previous acts
of the will or choice in the case, _which might prevent them_." That is
to say, volitions are necessary as to previous acts of choice; because
_by the supposition_ previous acts of choice do not produce them, and
consequently cannot prevent them. This is the argument.
Now, it is very true, that this is not an unheard of use of the term in
question. We say a thing is necessary, when it is dependent upon no
cause for its existence. Thus the existence of the Supreme Being is said
to be necessary, because he is the uncaused Cause of all things. As he
owes his existence to nothing, so there is nothing capable of destroying
it. He is independent of all causes; and hence, his existence is said to
be necessary.
In like manner, a thing may be said to be necessary as to any other
particular thing, upon which it does not depend for its existence. As
the Supreme Being is said to be necessary as to all things, because his
existence depends upon nothing; so any created object may be said to be
necessary, as to the influence of any other object, to which it does not
owe its existence, and upon which its existence does not depend. It is
in this sense that our volitions are shown to be necessary by the above
argument of President Edwards. A volition "is necessary as to any hand
free choice has in the affair; because by the supposition it preclude
all previous acts of the will or choice in the case, which might prevent
it." That is to say, it is necessary as to preceding acts of choice;
because, by the supposition, it is wholly independent of preceding acts
of choice for its existence.
Now, in so far as the doctrine of moral necessity is concerned, this
argument amounts to just exactly nothing. For although a volition may be
necessary as to one particular cause, in consequence of its being wholly
independent of that cause; it does not follow that it is necessarily
produced by another cause. Because it does not result from any preceding
act of volition, and consequently is necessary as to any hand that
preceding act of volition had in the affair, it does not follow, that
the "strongest motive" produces it. Supposing a volition to be
independent of all causes, as well as of preceding acts of choice; and
then it would be necessary, in the same sense, as to all causes, as well
as to preceding acts of choice. But how infinitely absurd would it be to
conclude, that because a volition is independent of the influence of all
causes, it is therefore necessarily connected with the influence of a
particular cause!
We only deny that volitions are necessarily connected with the "power,"
or "influence," or "action," of motives or moral causes. This is the
only kind of necessity against which, as the advocates of free-agency,
we are at all concerned to contend. And it is worse than idle for the
necessitarian to endeavour to establish any other kind of necessity
beside this. Let him come directly to the point, and _keep to it_, if he
would hope to accomplish any thing. This shifting backwards and forwards
from one meaning of an ambiguous term to another; this showing a
volition to be necessary in one sense, and then tacitly assuming it to
be necessary in another sense; is not the way to silence and refute the
adversaries of the doctrine of moral necessity. It may show, (supposing
the argument to be sound,) that a volition is necessary as to a
particular cause, on the supposition that it is not produced by that
cause; and in the same manner, it might be shown, that a volition is
necessary as to all causes, on the supposition that it is produced by no
cause. But the necessity which results from such a supposition, would be
directly arrayed against the necessity for which President Edwards
contends. In the same sense, volitions "are necessary as to any hand
motives have in the affair," on the supposition that they do not result
from the influence of motives; but instead of building on this kind of
necessity, one would have supposed that President Edwards was somewhat
concerned in its destruction.
In short, the case stands thus: a thing is said to be necessary, on the
supposition that it has _no cause_ of its existence; or necessary as to
another thing, on the supposition that it does not depend on that other
thing for its existence. Again, a thing is said to be necessary, on the
supposition that it proceeds from the operation of _a cause_. These
ideas are perfectly distinct. The difference between them is as clear as
noonday. It is true, they have the same name; but to reason from the one
to the other, is about as wild an abuse of language as could be made.
President Edwards is required to show that a volition is necessary, in
the sense of _its having a moral cause;_ he has shown that it is
necessary in the sense of _its not having a cause_. This is his
argument.
Let us view this subject in another light. If we say that a volition
proceeds from a prior act of choice, we certainly hold the doctrine of
necessity. President Edwards speaks out from the Inquiry and convicts us
of this doctrine. "Their notion of, action," says he, "implies
necessity, and supposes that it is necessary, and cannot be contingent.
For they suppose, that whatever is properly called action, must be
determined by the will and free choice; and this is as much as to say,
that it must be necessary, being dependent upon, and determined by
something foregoing; namely, a foregoing act of choice," p. 199. Thus,
if we say that a volition is produced by a preceding act of volition, we
are clearly convicted of the doctrine of necessity.
Now let us endeavour to escape from this accusation. For this purpose,
let us assume the directly opposite position: let us deny that our
volitions are produced by preceding acts of choice--and what then? Are
we out of danger? Far from it. We are still convicted of the dreaded
doctrine of necessity. On the very supposition we have made,
diametrically opposite as it is to the former, we are still convicted of
the same doctrine of necessity. We cannot escape from it. It pursues us,
like a ghost, through the dark and ill-defined shadows of an ambiguous
phraseology, and lays its cold hand upon us. Turn wheresoever we may, it
is sure to meet us in some shape or other.
This is not all. We are also convicted of a contradiction in terms. It
is shown, that we hold an act to be "both necessary and not necessary."
This may appear to be an exceedingly grave charge; and yet I think we
may venture to put in the plea of "guilty." We do hold an act to be
necessary, as to the strongest motive, as well as to any preceding act
of choice, by which we contend it is not produced, and by which it
cannot be prevented. We likewise most freely admit, that many volitions
are necessary in other senses of the word, as explained by President
Edwards. We cannot deny this, so long as we retain our senses; for "a
thing is said to be necessary," according to him, "when it has already
come to pass, and so made sure of its existence; and it is likewise said
to be necessary, when its present existence, is certainly and infallibly
known, as well as when its future existence is certainly and infallibly
foreknown. But yet we deny, that an act of volition is necessary, in the
sense that it is produced by the operation of the strongest motive, as
it is called. That is to say, we admit an act of choice to be necessary,
in some senses of the word; and, in another sense of it, we deny it to
be necessary." Is there any thing very contradictory in all this? Any
thing to shock the common sense and reason of mankind?
It may be said, that Edwards does not always endeavour to establish the
doctrine of moral necessity; that he frequently aims merely to show,
that our actions are "not without all necessity." This is unquestionably
true. He frequently arrives at this conclusion; and he seems to think
that he has done something, whenever he has shown our actions to be
necessary in any sense of the word as defined by himself. But it is
difficult to conceive with whom he could have had any controversy. For
certainly no one in his right mind, could pretend to deny that human
actions are necessary in any sense, as the word is explained and used in
the Inquiry. When it is said, for example, that the truth of the
proposition which affirms the future existence of an event, is
_necessarily_ connected with the idea that that event is certainly and
infallibly foreknown; no one, in his right mind, can deny the position.
Such a denial, as Edwards says, involves a contradiction in terms.
Hence, this notion of necessity only requires to be stated and
understood, in order to rivet irresistible conviction on the mind of
every rational being. No light has been thrown upon it, by the pages
which President Edwards has devoted to the subject; nor could a thousand
volumes render it one whit clearer than it is in itself. Hence, the
author of the Inquiry should have seen, that if there was any
controversy with him on this point, it was not because there was any
diversity of opinion; but because there was a misconception of his
proposition. And no doubt he would have seen this, if the meaning of his
own language had been clearly defined in his own mind: if he had marked
out and circumscribed, as with a sunbeam, the precise limitation within
which his own propositions are true, and beyond which they are false.
If he had done this, he would have seen that there was, and that there
could have been, but one real point of difference between himself and
his adversaries. He would have seen, that, aside from the ambiguities of
language, there was but one real point in dispute. He would have seen,
that it was affirmed, on the one side, that the strongest motive
operates to produce a choice; and that this was denied on the other. And
hence, he would have put forth his whole strength to establish this
single point, to fortify this single doctrine of moral necessity. He
would not have crowded so many different ideas into the definition of
the term _necessity_; and then imagined that he was overwhelming and
confounding his adversaries, when he was only showing that human
"actions are not without all necessity." And when they said, that "a
necessary action is a contradiction," he would have seen how they used
the term necessary; and he would not have concluded, as he has done,
that this "notion of action implies contingence, _and excludes all
necessity_," p. 199. He would have seen, that the idea of an action, in
our view, is inconsistent with necessity, in one sense of the word; and
yet not inconsistent with every thing that has been called necessity.
In the definition of President Edwards, there is an inherent and radical
defect, which I have not as yet noticed; and which is, indeed, the
source of all his vacillating on this subject. It proceeds from a very
common error, which has been well explained and illustrated by Mr.
Stewart in his Essay on the Beautiful.
The various theories, which ingenious men have framed in relation to the
beautiful, says Mr. Stewart, "have originated in a prejudice, which has
descended to modern times from the scholastic ages; that when a word
admits of a variety of significations, these different significations
must all be _species_ of the same _genus_; and must consequently include
some essential idea common to every individual to which the generic term
can be applied."
The question of Aristippas, "how can beauty differ from beauty," says
Mr. Stewart, "plainly proceeded on a total misconception of the nature
of the circumstances; which, in the history of language, attach
different meanings to the same word; and which by slow and insensible
gradations, remove them to such a distance from their primitive or
radical sense, that no ingenuity can trace the successive steps of their
progress. The variety of these circumstances is, in fact, so great, that
it is impossible to attempt a complete enumeration of them; and I shall,
therefore, select a few of the cases, in which the principle now in
question appears most obviously and indisputably to fail."
"I shall begin with supposing, that the letters A, B, C, D, E, denote a
series of objects; that A possesses some quality in common with B; B a
quality in common with C; C a quality in common with D; D a quality in
common with E;--while at the same time, no quality can be found which
belongs in common to any _three_ objects in the series. Is it not
conceivable, that the affinity between A and B may produce a
transference of the name of the first to the second; and that, in
consequence of the other affinities which connect the remaining objects
together, the same name may pass in succession from B to C; from C to D;
and from D to E?"
This idea, and the reasoning which Mr. Stewart has founded upon it, are
at once obvious, original and profound. It shows that the most gifted
philosophers, have not been able to frame a satisfactory theory of the
beautiful, because they have proceeded on the false supposition, that
all those objects which are called beautiful have some common property,
merely because they have a common appellation, by which they are
distinguished from other objects; and that in endeavouring to point out
and define this common property, they have engaged in an impracticable
attempt; and hence they have succeeded to their own satisfaction, only
by doing violence to the nature of things.
This is a fruitful idea. It admits of many illustrations. I shall select
only a few. Philosophers and jurists have frequently attempted to define
executive power; but they have proceeded on the supposition, that all
those powers called executive, have a common and distinguishing
property, because they have a common name. Hence, they have necessarily
failed; because the supposition on which they have proceeded is false.
Executive power, properly so called, is that which sees to the execution
of the laws; and other powers are called executive, not because they
partake of the nature of such powers, but simply because they have been
conferred upon the chief executive magistrate.
The same remark, may be made, in relation to the attempts of ingenious
men, to define the nature of law in general. If we analyze all those
things which have been called laws, we shall find that they have no
element or property in common: the only thing they have in common is the
name. Hence, when we undertake to define law in general, or to point out
the common property by which laws are distinguished from other things,
we must necessarily fail. We may frame a definition in words, as others
have done; but, however carefully this may be constructed, it can be
applied to different kinds of laws, only by giving totally different
meanings to the words of which it is composed. Thus, for example, a law
is said to be "a rule of conduct," given by a superior to an inferior,
and "which the inferior is bound to obey." Now, who does not see, that
the words _conduct_ and _obedience_, must have totally distinct
meanings, when they are applied to inanimate objects and when they are
applied to the actions of moral and accountable beings? And who does not
see, that human beings are _bound_ to do their duty, in an entirely
different sense, from that in which matter can be said to be under an
obligation? The same remark may be extended to all the definitions which
have been given of law in general. And whoever understands the
philosophy of definitions, will easily perceive that every attempt to
draw things, so wholly unlike each other, under one and the same mode of
expression, is not really to define, but to hide, the true nature of
things under the ambiguities of language.
Of this common fault, President Edwards has been guilty. Instead of
defining the various senses of the term necessity, and always using it
with precision and without confusion; he has undertaken to show wherein
those things called necessary really agree in some common property. He
looked for a common nature, where there is only a common name. As
Aristippas could not conceive, "how beauty could differ from beauty;"
so, if we may judge from his argument, it was a great difficulty with
him, to conceive how necessity can differ from necessity. Hence, when he
proves an action to be necessary in any one of the various senses which
are included under his definition of philosophical necessity, he
imagines that his work is done; and when his adversary denies that an
action is necessary in any one of those senses, he concludes that he
denies "all necessity!" In all this, we see the question as plainly as
if it had been expressly written down, "how can philosophical necessity
differ from philosophical necessity?" To which I would simply reply,
that a thing cannot differ from itself, it is true; but the same word
may have very different meanings; and that it is "a prejudice which has
descended to modern times from the scholastic ages," to suppose that
things have a common nature, merely because they have a common name.
No better illustration of the fallacy of this prejudice could be
furnished, than that which Edwards has given in his definition of
philosophical or metaphysical necessity. Under this definition, as we
have seen, he has included the being of a God, which is said to be
necessary, because he has existed from all eternity, unmade and
uncaused; and also the existence of an effect, which is said to be
necessary, because it necessarily results from the operation of a cause.
Now, these two ideas stand in direct opposition to each other; and the
only thing they have in common is the name. And yet President Edwards
reasons from the one to the other! If he can, in any way, reach the
name, this seems to satisfy him. The _thing_ in dispute is entirely
overlooked. If we say that choice is produced by choice, then he
contends it is an effect, and consequently necessary. If we deny that
choice is produced by choice, then it is necessary any how; not because
it is produced by a cause, but because it is independent of a cause,
being neither produced nor prevented by it. It makes no difference with
this great champion of necessity, whether choice is said to be produced
by choice or not; for, on either of these opposite suppositions, he can
show that our volitions are necessary. The absence of the very
circumstance which makes it necessary in the one case, is that which
makes it necessary in the other. Is choice produced by choice? Then this
dependence of choice upon choice, shows it to be necessary. Is choice
_not_ produced by choice? Then this independence of choice upon choice
is the very thing which shows it to be necessary! Thus this great
champion of necessity, just passes from one meaning of the term to
another, without the least regard to the point in dispute, or to the
logical coherency of his argument. Surely, if "a reluctant world has
bowed in homage" to his logic, it must have been because the world has
been too indolent to pry into the sophisms with which it swarms. It is
only in his onsets upon error, that the might of his resistless logic is
felt; in the defence of his own system, he does not reason at all, he
merely rambles. Indeed, with all his gigantic power, he was compelled to
reel and stagger under the burden of such a cause.