OF EDWARDS' IDEA OF LIBERTY.
IT was not the design of Edwards, as it is well known, to interfere with
the moral agency of man. He honestly believed that the scheme of
necessity, as held by himself, was perfectly consistent with the
doctrine of liberty; and he retorted upon his adversaries that it was
their system, and not his, which struck at the foundation of moral
agency and accountability. But however upright may have been his
intentions, he has merely left us the name of liberty, while he has in
reality denied to us its nature and its essence.
According to his view of the subject, "The plain and obvious meaning of
the words freedom and liberty, in common speech, is the _power,
opportunity_, or _advantage that any one has to do as he pleases_. Or,
in other words, his being free from hindrance or impediment in the way
of doing, or conducting in any respect as he wills. And the contrary to
liberty, whatever name we call that by, is a person's being hindered, or
unable to conduct as he will, or being necessitated to do otherwise."
This is the kind of liberty for which he contends. And he says, "There
are two things contrary to what is called liberty in common speech. One
is _constraint_, otherwise called _force_, _compulsion_, and
_co-action_, which is a person's being necessitated to do a thing
_contrary_ to his will. The other is _restraint_; which is his being
hindered, and not having power to do _according_ to his will. But that
which has no will cannot be the subject of these things."
This notion of liberty, as Edwards says, presupposes the existence of a
will. In fact, it presupposes more than this; it presupposes the
existence of a determination of the will. For, unless one is determined
not to do a thing, he cannot be constrained to do it, contrary to his
will; and, unless he is determined to do a thing, he cannot be
restrained from doing it according to his will. This kind of liberty,
then, as it presupposes the existence of a determination of the will,
has nothing to do with the manner in which that determination is brought
to pass. If the determination of the mind or will were brought to pass,
so to speak, by an absolutely irresistible force; just as any other
effect is brought to pass by its efficient cause; yet this kind of
liberty might exist in its utmost perfection. For it only requires that
after the will is determined in this manner, or in any other, that it
should be left free from _constraint_ or _restraint_, to flow on just as
it has been determined to do. It is no other liberty than that which is
possessed by a current of water, when it is said to flow _freely_,
because it is not opposed in its course by any material obstruction.
That the liberty for which Edwards contends, has nothing to do with the
manner in which our actions or volitions come to pass; or, more properly
speaking, with the kind of relation between motives and actions, we have
his own express acknowledgment. "What is vulgarly called liberty," says
he, "namely, that power and opportunity for one to do and conduct as he
will, or according to his choice, is all that is meant by it; without
taking into the meaning of the word _any thing of the cause of that
choice; or at all considering how the person came to have such a
volition;_ whether it was caused by some _external motive_, or _internal
habitual bias;_ whether it was determined by some internal antecedent
volition, or whether it happened without a cause; whether _it was
necessarily connected with something foregoing, or not connected. Let
the person come by his choice_ ANY HOW, yet if he is able, and there is
nothing in the way to hinder his pursuing and executing his will, _the
man is perfectly free_, according to the primary and common notion of
freedom."
This notion of liberty, it is easy to see, is consistent with the most
absolute scheme of fatality of which it is possible to conceive. For,
according to this idea of it, if we should come by our choice "any how,"
even by the most irresistible influence of external circumstances, yet
we might be "perfectly free." Hence it is no wonder that we find the
same definition of liberty in the writings of the most absolute
fatalists.
It is remarkable that Edwards has taken great pains to define his idea
of philosophical necessity, and to distinguish it from the common sense
of the word; and yet he supposes that the notion of liberty, about which
the same dispute is conversant, is that which is referred to "in common
speech," or that "which is vulgarly called liberty." He contends for a
_philosophical necessity_, and especially for a necessary connexion
between the influence of motives and volitions; but the _philosophical
liberty_ which stands opposed to his scheme, which denies any such
_necessary_ connexion, he has not deemed it worth his while to notice!
Liberty, according to Edwards' sense of the term, has nothing to do with
the controversy respecting free-agency and necessity. It is as
consistent with fatalism as could be desired by the most extravagant
supporters of that odious system. Hence, when the doctrine of necessity
is denied, and that of liberty or moral agency is asserted, something
more than this is intended. The idea of liberty, as it stands connected
with the controversy in question, has reference to the manner in which
our volitions come to pass, to the relation which subsists between
motives and their corresponding actions. When we say that the will is
free, we mean "that it is not necessarily determined by the influence of
motives;" we mean to deny the doctrine of moral necessity, or that the
relation which subsists between a motive and its corresponding act, is
not that which subsists between an efficient cause and its effect. We
mean to contend for a philosophical liberty, as President Edwards
contends for a philosophical necessity, and not for that "which is
vulgarly called liberty."
There is an inconsistency, I am aware, in supposing a choice to be
induced by the force of external circumstances, or by the force of
motives, whether external or internal; but this inconsistency belongs to
the scheme of necessity; and if I have indulged in the supposition for a
moment, it was only to meet the necessitarian, and argue with him on his
own ground. As I have already said, a will that is _determined_, instead
of _determining_, is no will at all. And the liberty of the will for
which we contend, is implied by the power of the mind to ACT. It does
not depend upon the presence or the absence of any external obstruction.
It is no such occasional, or accidental thing; it is an inherent and
essential attribute and power of the mind. No power in the universe, but
that of creation, can produce it, and no chains on earth can bind it.
The idea of liberty, as contended for by President Edwards, is no other
than that entertained by Mr. Locke. Thus, says the latter, "there may be
thought, there may be will, there may be _volition, where there is no
liberty_." In illustration of this position he says, "A man falling into
water, (a bridge breaking under him,) has not herein liberty, is not a
free-agent. For though he has _volition_, though he prefers his not
falling to falling, yet the forbearance of that motion not being in his
power, the stop or cessation of that motion follows not upon his
volition; and therefore therein he is not free."
It is true, he is not therein free, in one of the most common senses of
the term; but it is wrong to conclude from hence, that there is in such
a case, "_no liberty_." For if the volition, of which he is said to be
possessed, did not result from the action of any thing, if it was simply
an act of the mind, which was not necessarily produced by another act,
then he possessed freedom in the philosophical sense of the term. He was
free in the act of willing, in the possession of his volition, although
the consequence of that volition was cut off and prevented by an
over-ruling necessity, which had no conceivable relation to the manner
in which he came by his volition. Wherever there is a volition, there is
this kind of liberty; for a volition is not, and cannot be, produced by
any coercive force.
The foregoing illustration might have been very consistently offered by
President Edwards, who considered a volition and a preference of the
mind as identically the same; but it comes not with so good a grace from
Mr. Locke. He considered an act of the will as different from a
preference. According to his doctrine, a man might prefer not to fall,
in such a case as that put by himself, and yet not will not to fall. And
he illustrates the difference by saying, "a man would prefer flying to
walking, yet who can say he ever wills it?" Now, if a man cannot will to
fly, it is very difficult to see how he can will not to fall, in case he
were dropped from the air.
The illustration of Mr. Locke is fallacious. It does not show, and I
humbly conceive it cannot be shown, that there can be a volition
anywhere in the universe where there is not freedom. The very idea of a
volition, or an act of the mind, necessarily implies that kind of
philosophical liberty for which we contend.
The above notion of liberty, which Mr. Locke borrowed from Hobbes, and
Edwards from Locke, evidently confounds the motion of the body, (which
they frequently call action,) with volition or action of the mind. Thus,
no matter how a volition comes to pass, or is caused to exist, if there
is nothing to prevent the _motion_ of the body from following its
influence, we are said to be perfectly free. This kind of liberty,
therefore, refers to the motion of the body, and not to the action of
the mind. It has no reference whatever to the question, Is the mind free
in the act of willing? This is the question in dispute; and hence, if
the necessitarian would say any thing to the purpose, he must show that
his scheme is reconcilable with the freedom of the mind in willing. This
Edwards has not attempted to do. He has, in fact, as we have seen, only
given us the name, while he has taken from us the substance of liberty.
The idea of liberty, for which Edwards contends, may be illustrated by
an unobstructed fall of water. Indeed, this is the very thing by which
Mr. Hobbes has chosen to illustrate and explain it. "I conceive liberty
to be rightly defined in this manner," says he; "liberty is the absence
of all the impediments to action, (motion?) that are not contained in
the nature and intrinsical quality of the agent, as for example, the
water is said to descend freely, or to have liberty to descend by the
channel of the river, because there is no impediment that way, but not
across, because the banks are impediments, and though the water cannot
ascend, yet men never say it wants the liberty to ascend, but the
faculty or power, because the impediment is in the nature of the water,
and intrinsical." Mr. Hobbes encountered no more difficulty in
reconciling this notion of liberty with the scheme of fatality for which
he contended, than President Edwards found in reconciling it with the
same scheme in disguise.
According to the Inquiry, then, we have no other liberty than that which
may be ascribed to the winds and the waves of the sea, as they are
carried onward in their courses by the power of the Almighty. Edwards
looks for liberty, and he finds it, not in the will, but in the motions
of the body, which is universally admitted to be passive to the action
of the will. He looks for liberty, and he finds it, where, by universal
consent, an absolute necessity reigns; thus seeking and finding the
living among the dead. It is no wonder, that he could reconcile such a
liberty with the scheme of necessity.
Even President Day is not satisfied with this account of liberty. "On
the subject of liberty or freedom," says he, "which occupies a portion
of the fifth section of Edwards' first book, he has been less particular
than was to be expected, considering that this is the great object of
inquiry in his work." How could Edwards have been more particular? He
has repeatedly and most explicitly informed us, that liberty consists in
a power, or opportunity, to do as we choose; _without considering how we
come by our choice_. If we can only do as we choose, though our choice
should be produced by the most absolute and irresistible power in the
universe, yet are we perfectly free in the highest conceivable sense of
the word. "If any imagine they desire, and that they conceive of a
higher liberty than this," says he, "they are deceived, and delude
themselves with confused ambiguous words instead of ideas." President
Day complains that all this is not sufficiently particular; but although
he may not have been aware of it, I apprehend that he has been
dissatisfied with the dreadful particularity and precision with which
the doctrine of the Inquiry has been exhibited. It is precisely the
doctrine of liberty which has been held by the most absolute and
unqualified fatalists the world has ever seen; and it is set forth, too,
with a bold precision and clearness, which would have done honour to the
stern consistency of Hobbes himself. It is no wonder, that President Day
should have felt a desire to see such a doctrine softened down by the
author of the Inquiry.
"The professed object of his book," says President Day, "_according to
the title-page_, is an inquiry concerning the freedom of the will;--not
the freedom of external conduct. We naturally look for his meaning of
this internal liberty. What he has said, in this section, respecting
freedom of the will, has rather the appearance of evading such a
definition of it as might be considered his own." Yes, it is in this
section that we naturally look for his idea of the liberty of the will;
but we do not find it. We must turn to the title-page, if we wish to see
any thing about the liberty of the will. "What he has said, in this
section, respecting freedom of the will," does not, (President Day
himself being judge,) relate to the freedom of the will at all; it only
relates to the freedom of the body, which has no freedom at all; but
which is wholly passive to the action of the will. President Day is not
satisfied with all this; and hence, he proceeds to tell us, what Edwards
would have said in this section, if he had not thus evaded his own
definition of internal liberty. Let us see, then, what he would have
said.
From a letter to a minister of the Church of Scotland, President Day
finds that in the phrase conducting as a man pleases, the author of the
Inquiry means to include the idea of _choosing as he pleases_. Now, this
is all true; and this is the internal liberty, which President Day has
extracted from the aforesaid letter. Then, according to Edwards, we have
two kinds of liberty: the one is a liberty to move the body as we
please, or as we choose; and the other is, to choose as we please, or as
we choose. In the vocabulary, and according to the psychology of
President Edwards, as we have frequently seen, and as we here see, our
pleasing and our choosing are one and the same thing. Hence, to move our
bodies according to our pleasure, is to move it according to our choice;
and to choose as we please, is to choose as we choose. President Day
need not have gone to the letter in question, in order to find this
doctrine; for it is repeatedly set forth in the inquiry. President
Edwards, as we have seen, frequently contends in the Inquiry, that we
always choose as we choose; and as frequently makes his adversaries
assert, that we can "choose without choosing;" which is just as absurd,
he truly declares, as to say that a body can move while it is in a state
of rest.
Now, to place liberty in this "choosing as we choose," without regard to
the cause or origin of our choice, is just about as rational as it would
be to place it in the axioms of geometry. Suppose a man is made to
choose, by an absolute and uncontrollable power; it is nevertheless
true, that he chooses as he does choose. This cannot be otherwise than
true; it is a self-evident and necessary truth; for nothing can be
different from itself, can be what it is, and yet not what it is, at one
and the same time. To speak of a power of choosing as we choose, as
Edwards and Day both do, is just about as reasonable as it were to speak
of a power to make two and two equal to four. Supposing the Almighty
should cause us to choose, it is not in his power to prevent us from
choosing as we do choose; for he cannot work contradictions.
Whether President Edwards speaks of our moving as we please, or of our
choosing as we please; whether he speaks of an external liberty, or of
this internal liberty; he is always careful to remind us, that it has no
reference to the question, how we come by our pleasure or choice. In the
letter referred to, wherein he admits that a man's liberty of conducting
as he pleases or chooses, includes "a liberty of choosing as he
pleases," he instantly adds, but "without determining how he came by
that pleasure." Yes, no matter how we come by our choice, though it be
wrought into us by the most uncontrollable power in the universe, yet
are we free in the highest conceivable sense of the word, if we can only
"conduct according to our choice." This, instead of being the greatest
liberty, is indeed the greatest mockery, of which it is possible for the
imagination of man to conceive. The liberty of fate itself, is, in all
respects, to the full as desirable as such a liberty as this. Is it not
wonderful, to behold the great and good author of the Inquiry, thus
planting himself upon the very ground of atheistical fatalism; and from
thence, in sober, serious earnestness, holding out to us, as a great and
glorious reality, the mere name and shadow and fiction of liberty? the
very phantom which atheists, in mockery and derision, have been pleased
to confer upon mankind, as upon poor blind fools, who merely dream of
liberty, and fondly dote upon the empty name thereof, whilst they are
ignorant of the chains which bind them fast in fate.