OF THE SELF-DETERMINING POWER.
THE advocates of free-agency have contended that the will is determined
by itself, and not by the strongest motive. This is the ground which, so
far as I know, has always been taken against the doctrine of necessity;
but it may be questioned whether it is tenable, and whether the friends
of moral agency might not have made far greater headway against their
adversaries if they had not assumed such a position. It appears to be
involved in several inevitable contradictions; in the exposure of which
the necessitarian has been accustomed to triumph.
The leading argument of Edwards against the self-determining power may
be substantially stated in a few words. The will can be the cause of no
effect, says he, except by acting, or putting forth a volition to cause
it; and hence, if we assert that the will causes its own volitions, we
must suppose it causes them by preceding volitions. It can cause a
volition only by a prior volition, which, in its turn, can be caused
only by another volition prior to it; and so on _ad infinitum_. Thus,
according to Edwards, the self-determining power of the will necessarily
runs out into the absurdity of an infinite series of volitions.
If this reasoning is just, the doctrine in question must be abandoned;
for no sound doctrine can lead to such a conclusion. But is it just?
Does such an absurdity really flow from the self-determining power of
the will?
It has been objected to the argument of Edwards, that it is based on a
false assumption. The position of Edwards, "that if the will determines
itself, it must determine itself by an act of choice," is, it has been
contended, clearly an assumption unsupported, and incapable of being
supported. The reason assigned for this objection is, that we do not
know how any cause exerts itself in the production of phenomena; and
consequently we have no right to assume that the will can cause its
volitions only by volitions. In other words, as we do not know how any
cause produces its effects, so it is wholly a gratuitous assumption to
say, that if the will causes its volitions, it must cause them in this
particular manner, that is, by preceding acts of volition.
This objection does not seem to be well taken. When we say, that the
will is the cause of any thing, we do not really mean that the will
itself is the cause of it; for the will itself does not act: it is not
an agent, it is merely the power of an agent. It is that power by which
the mind acts. Hence, when the will is said to cause a thing, the
language must either have no intelligible meaning, or it must be
understood to mean, that the mind causes it by an exercise of its power
of willing. But to say that the mind causes a thing by an exercise of
its power of willing, is to say that it causes it by an act of the will
or a volition; which brings us to the assumption of Edwards. Hence, if
the language that "the will causes its own volitions" means any thing,
it must mean what Edwards supposes it does. That is, if the will causes
its volition, or rather, if the mind in the act of willing causes them,
then they must be caused by volitions or acts of the will.
It is said, that "we do not know _how_ any cause acts." This is very
true, when properly understood; but in the true sense of this maxim,
Edwards has not undertaken to explain how a cause acts; nor has he made
any assumption as to how it acts. The _term_ cause has a variety of
meanings; and it is frequently applied with extreme vagueness and want
of precision. What is the cause of an effect?--of the motion of the
hand, for example? It is the mind, says one; it is the will, says
another; it is a volition, replies a third. Now here are three distinct
things,--the mind, the will, and the volition; and yet each is said to
be the cause of the same identical effect. This diversity of expression
may do very well in popular discourse, but it must be laid aside
whenever philosophical precision is required.
What is then, really and properly speaking, the cause of the motion in
question? It is neither the mind, nor the will; for these might both
exist, and yet no such effect result from them. A mind, or a will, that
lies still and does not act, is the cause of no effect. If we would
speak with philosophical precision, then, we should say that the act of
the mind is the cause of the effect in question. The idea of a cause, in
the strict and proper sense of the term, is that from which the effect
immediately and necessarily flows. Now the motion of the hand is not
necessarily connected with the mind itself; for if the mind were to lie
still and not act, no such effect would follow. It is with the act of
the mind that the effect in question is connected as with its efficient
cause. It is the act of the mind which implies the motion of the hand,
and that is implied by it; and hence, it is the act of the mind, or the
volition, that is properly said to be the cause of such motion. For
cause and effect, are said to imply each other.
Now Edwards has not pretended to say how a volition acts upon the
external part of our being; if he had done so, he would have been justly
obnoxious to the charge of presuming to know how a cause acts, in the
proper sense of the word; but he has done no such thing. The connexion
between cause and effect, in the proper sense of the terms, he has left
enveloped in profound mystery. He has not presumed to say how an act, or
cause, properly so called, produces its corresponding effect.
He does not assume to know how a cause acts; but how what is sometimes
called a cause really becomes such. The will may be called a cause, if
you please; but, in reality, unless it acts, it is the cause of no
effect; and even then, properly speaking, the act is the cause. He
clearly saw that a will which lies still and does nothing, is the cause
of no effect; and hence he stated the simple fact, that it must act in
order to become a cause, or, which is the same thing, in order to
produce an effect. And is not this perfectly self-evident? We do not
know how the will acts, nor how its act produces a change in the
external part of our being; but yet do we not certainly know, that a
dormant will can do nothing, and that it must act in order to produce an
effect. If this be to explain how a cause acts, I humbly conceive that
we may do so with perfect propriety.
Indeed, all that is assumed by Edwards, has been conceded to him by most
of his adversaries. Thus says Dr. West, as quoted by Edwards the
younger, "No being can become a cause, i. e. an efficient, or that which
produces an effect, but by first operating, acting, or energizing." Here
we are told, not how a cause acts, but how the mind becomes a cause, or
the author of effects. This is all that Edwards takes for granted; and,
for aught that I can see, he has done so with perfect propriety.
The same thing is conceded by Dr. Reid. "The change," says he, "whether
it be of thought, of will, or of motion, is the effect. Active power,
therefore, is a quality in the cause, which enables it to produce the
effect. And the exertion of that active power in producing the effect,
is called action, agency, efficiency. In order to the production of any
effect, there must be in the cause, not only power, _but the exertion of
that power_."--Essays on the Active Powers, p. 259. Here it is declared
by Dr. Reid, that active power or the will must act, in order to produce
an effect, whether the effect be in the mind itself, or out of the mind,
whether it be "of thought, of will, or of motion." This is all that
Edwards assumes as the basis of his argument.
But the question is not so much what has been conceded, as what is true.
Is it true, then, that if the will causes its own volitions, it can
cause them only by preceding volitions? It is, as we have already seen,
according to the common acceptation of the terms; for a dormant cause
can produce no effect; it must act in order to produce effects. Edwards
has truly said, that "if the will be determined, there is a determiner.
This must be supposed to be intended even by those that say the will
determines itself. If it be so, the will is both determiner and
determined; it is a cause that acts and produces effects upon itself,
and is the object of its own influence and action." p. 19. Now, whatever
may be the meaning of those who choose to affirm that the will
determines itself, admitting that it is both determined and determiner;
the conclusion of Edwards seems to be fairly drawn from the language in
which their doctrine is expressed. To say the least, he fairly reduces
the obvious meaning of their language to the absurdity of an infinite
series of volitions.
If the phrase, that the will is determined by itself, has any meaning,
it must mean, either that the will is made to act by a preceding act of
the will, or that the will simply acts. If the meaning be, that the act
or choice of the will is produced by a preceding act of the will, then
is the inference of Edwards well drawn, and the self-determining power
is involved in the aforesaid _ad infinitum_ absurdity. But if the
meaning be, that the will simply acts, why not present the idea in this
its true and unambiguous form?
It is evident, that while the will remains inactive, it can produce no
effect; it must act, in order to become the author of effects. The
effect caused, and the causative act, are clearly distinct; the one
produces the other. If the causative act is a volition, then we have an
infinite series of volitions. And if it be not a volition, but some
other effort of the mind, the same difficulty arises; for if it be
necessary to suppose a preceding effort of the mind in order to account
for a volition, it will be equally necessary to suppose the existence of
another effort to account for that; and so on _ad infinitum_. And an
infinite series of efforts is just as great an absurdity as an infinite
series of volitions.
Now let us suppose that, in order to escape these difficulties, an
advocate of the self-determining power should deny that there is any
causative act of volition; but that volition is itself an act uncaused
by any preceding act. According to this view, what does the
self-determining power amount to? It amounts to just this, that the will
itself acts,--a position which is as freely recognized by Edwards as it
could possibly be by the warmest advocate of the self-determining power.
If this be all that is meant by self-determination, why not state the
simple fact that the will itself acts, in plain English, instead of
going about to envelope it in a mist of words? If this be all that is
meant, why not state the thing so that it may be acquiesced in by the
necessitarian, instead of keeping up such a war of words? Indeed, it
appears plain to me, that the assertion that the will is determined by
itself, is either false doctrine, or else the language in which it is
couched is not a clear and distinct expression of its own meaning. On
either supposition, this mode of expression should be abandoned.
I have long been impressed with the conviction, that the
self-determining power, as it is generally understood, is full of
inconsistencies. While we hold this doctrine, we cannot with a good
grace contend that the motive-determining power is involved in the
absurdity of an infinite series of causes; for we ourselves are involved
in it. Nor can we very well maintain that "a necessary agent is no agent
at all;" for the necessitarian will reply, as he always does, that
according to our own scheme, our actions are caused; and hence, if it be
absurd to speak of a caused action, this is equally true, whether the
cause be intrinsic or extrinsic. Moreover, if we should complain that,
according to the necessitarian, the phenomena of the will are involved
in the "mechanism of cause and effect," he will be sure to reply, that
the same thing is true according to our own scheme, inasmuch as we admit
volition to be an effect, and place it under the dominion of an internal
cause. These difficulties, as well as some others, have always
encumbered the cause of free and accountable agency; just because it has
been supposed to consist in the self-determining power of the will. We
should, therefore, abandon this doctrine. If Clarke, and Price, and
Reid, and West, have not been able to maintain it without running into
such inconsistencies, it is high time it should be laid aside forever.
It has always been taken for granted that the will is determined. The
use of this word clearly implies that the will is acted upon, either by
the will itself, or by something else. It has been conceded, on all
sides, that it is determined; and the only controversy has been, as to
what is the determiner. It is determined by the strongest motive, says
one; it is determined by itself, says another; and upon these two
positions the combatants have arranged themselves. But behind all this
controversy, there is a question which has not been agitated; and that
is, whether the will is determined at all? For my part, I am firmly and
fully persuaded that it is not, but that it simply determines. It is the
"determiner," but not the "determined." It is never the object of its
own determination. It acts, but there is no causative act, by which it
is made to act. This position, I trust, has been made good in the
preceding pages.
If we say that the will is determined by itself, this implies that it is
determined in the passive voice, at the same time that it determines in
the active voice; whereas, in reality, it is simply active, and not
passive to the action of any thing, in its determinations. We should not
say, then, that the mind is self-determined, but simply that it is
self-active. On this ground we may securely rest in our opposition to
the scheme of necessity. It can never be shown that it is involved in
the absurdity of an endless series of causes; it will remain for the
necessitarian alone to extricate himself from that absurdity. That the
mind is self-active, I have already shown, by showing that it is absurd
to suppose that an act of the mind is produced by the action of any
thing upon it. It is right here, then, upon the self-activity of the
human mind, that we take our stand, in order to plant the lever which
shall heave the scheme of moral necessity from its foundations. It is
right here that we find our stronghold; that we erect the bulwark and
the fortifications of man's free-agency, against which, as against a
wall of adamant, all the shafts of the necessitarian will fall blunted
to the earth, or else recoil with destructive force upon himself.
But why fight against the doctrine of those who have laboured in the
same great cause with myself? Truly, most truly, not because it is a
grateful task, but because it is a deep and earnest conviction, wrought
into my mind by the meditation of years, that the great and glorious
cause of free-agency has been retarded by some of the errors of its
friends, more than by all the truths of its enemies. This has appeared
to be the case especially in regard to the self-determining power of the
will. It seems to have retained its hold upon the mind of its friends,
not so much by its intrinsic merits, as by its denial of moral
necessity, and the idea that it is the only mode of such denial. As the
scheme of moral necessity has triumphed in the weakness of the
self-determining power, so has the self-determining power resisted the
siege of centuries, in the unconquerable energy of its opposition to the
determining and controlling power of motives. And if both have stood
together, each deriving strength from the weakness of the other, is it
not possible that both may fall together, and that a more complete and
satisfactory scheme of moral agency may arise out of the common ruins?