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 ,4 ^ 
 
 l7::^PROP. YOUNG'S DOCTRINE 
 
 OF 
 
 4 4 
 
 REVIEV/ED 
 
 BY 
 
 REV. A. CARMAN, M.A., 
 
 President of Albert College. 
 
 BEJ.LEVTLLE: 
 
 I'UINTKI) UV MILKS & MKKK, HOOk if JOH IMUNTEUS. 
 
 18 7 2. 
 

 \ 
 
 *»» »»-• 
 
 ■' !,i ;m 
 
 -I:, 
 
" FREEDOM AND NECESSITY." 
 
 \ 
 
 " tI Lecture delivered in Knox' Colleye, on ihe^ih of April ^ 
 1870, ai the close of the Colleye Session, by the Rev. Geo. 
 Paxion Y<rniH/, M. A., Frofc.s.sor of Mental and Moral 
 rhilosophy, Knox Colhije, Toronto.^ ^ 
 
 -o- 
 
 Thiough the kind offices of a friend, . have recently become 
 acquainted with a j)amphlet bearing the foregoing title-page. 
 Though on a per[)lexed subject in Pliilosophy, it is written with 
 clearness and force, and with a happy freedom from technicalities. 
 Indeed such are its excellencies in these respects that I fear it 
 must reflect upon me, if I have misunderstood any passages, or 
 failed to reach the author's meaning. Yet in Metajjhysical 
 research, one honest inquirer after truth may readily exercise 
 forbearance toward another; for in no other sphere of human 
 investigation is it so difficult to convey to others our ideas 
 precisely as they are in our own minds. 
 
 The author aims, as set forth in the opening sentence of 
 the Lecture, " to inquire whether and in what sense men arc 
 free agents, and whether and in what sense their actions are 
 necessary," To this end he states voluntary action to be "the 
 exertion of energy by an intelligent being; the subjective putting 
 forth of effort in the direction of an end which is in the mind's 
 vicAv ;" a statement of the case, so far as it goes, to which the 
 most thorough going libertarian could ill object. Let it be 
 understood that this exertion of energy is not trammelled or 
 interfered with by any power, greater or less : this subjective 
 ])utting forth of effort is not excited, controlled, hindered, diiected 
 or diverted to any extent or in any degree by any influence other 
 than the agent's consideration of the premises before the mind ; 
 and the advocates of personal freedom will readily yield assent. 
 
 i2o:ri8 
 
That all action of rational and moral beings is upon motive, there 
 can be no doubt. Indeed it is im})0ssible to conceive how action 
 should be moral, that is, have the moral element, devoid of 
 motives. Liberty is by no means a question of the existence or 
 non-existence of motives, any more than of the existence or 
 nou existence of the agent ; but it is a question of the nature of 
 the agent, and the nature of motives, and their respective powers 
 and relations. 
 
 These two points, "that voluntary action is subjective energy," 
 and "that it is directed to a definite end in the mind's view," that 
 is, "is done from motive," are well maintained by the Lecturer. 
 Still we enquire, does he after all, vindicate or abdicate, save or 
 lose, genuine human freedom ? Does he declare genuine personal 
 liberty, so as to ensure the doctrine of personal accountability, and 
 justify it on philosophical grounds ? Does he surrender to 
 necessity, or preserve to liberty the grand ideas of duty, obligation* 
 merit, demerit, punishment and reward ? From so fair a beginning, 
 does he proceed to a noble end? Or does he beat round the circle 
 of necessity, without escaping from the enclosure, and thereby 
 virtually lose the doctrines of human duty, right and account- 
 ability ? Does he after all give us a moral freedom, the crown 
 and the glory of humanity ; or does he bury our hopes in what he 
 calls a "moral necessity" ? I must confess that to me the latter 
 appears to be the case. 
 
 The old definition of liberty, " the power to do, or not to do, as 
 the mind directs," "the power to do as we will," is well and 
 promptly rejected ; and Edwards' circular theory of the " strongest 
 motive" is exposed and discarded. Mill's attempt to substitute 
 Association and Habit for Reason and Motive in moral action is 
 laid out, where it belongs, along side of IJentham's attempt to 
 resolve right and wrong into pleasure and pain, and Hume's 
 attempt to account for our ideas of cause and effect by experience. 
 But it is just in controverting Mill's position that the pamphlet 
 seems to me to surrender our moral lil^erty by conceding to him 
 that the most trustworthy witness of it does not and cannot 
 depone to its existence. This witness is consciousness ; and this 
 Concession is made, not by, saying that consciousness cannot bear 
 witness to freedom in any form, but by crowding freedom into a 
 narrower compass than belon<{s to it ; indeed by cutting off the 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
side of it which is in the free person, the agent, which is the 
 essence of freedom. Mr. Mill says, freedom being a power to act, 
 and action being necessarily contingent and future, it cannot of 
 course come within the sphere of consciousness. Professor Young 
 would draw it within this sphere by saying we are conscious of 
 freedom only in actiny , and as the acting is present, here and-noic, 
 it is of course within the range of consciousness. It is astonishing 
 what a grasping after the shadow and losing the substance is 
 here j what a grasping after the acting and losing the ^wwer. 
 The power, the power to act is in the man and of the man ; and is 
 the substance and basis of his agency ; and of it, the power, its 
 existence and scope, he is conscious, not only in acting^ but, even 
 before acting, on the proposition or occasion to act. Freedom, 
 though a perfect unit, is a two sided power ; the one side always 
 in the man, the other side, often developed in acting ; and 
 it is of this perpetually present and sufficient })Ower the man is 
 ever conscious, not only after subjective acting or determining has 
 begun, but on the first instance of thought and the slightest 
 sujTirestion oi action, before it shows even the bud of a deternii- 
 nation. Bring the man himself into the sphere of consciousness 
 in any way, and you must bring in his liberty ; for his liberty is his 
 true and essential manhood. Let it be by a sensation, little as we 
 can help many of our sensations ; or by an intellectual act or 
 process, necessary as some of them are ; and the liberty stands 
 just along side the feeling or the process in the light of 
 consciousness and under her eye ; not, indeed it may be, the liberty 
 to change or destroy either, but to aj)ply or direct, to use or to let 
 alone, as the case may be. Even when stern outer necessity is on 
 the man and he must take the odor or yield practically to the 
 conclusion, his consciousness gives him freedom by the very rock 
 against which it lashes. Thus it is, we conceive, that the 
 concesssion is made to Mill by letting down the true conception 
 of human freedom, and taking, so to speak, only one side of it ; 
 making it less than that to which consciousness does bear witness, 
 the whole of which is indispensable for human accountability. 
 
 The case, we take it, is similar to the mistake of Kant, though 
 precisely at the opposite pole. Kant did nobly in vindicating first 
 principles of Reason : but conceded to Hume that their force is 
 only subjective, and so eventually lost all. Professor Young 
 maintains a nobler freedom than Edwards or Mill ever dreamed 
 
6 
 
 of. But with a seeming desire to meet Mill half way, he concedes 
 that wc are conscious of freedom only in making ilie subjective 
 determination, and thereby, as will plainly appear in the sequel, 
 loses all. Kant ^ave up the objective side and so set German 
 Philosophy astray. Professor Young gives up the subjective side 
 in this case, and so lands in a relentless and irresponsible " Moral 
 necessity." For in the case of liberty in Man, the poioer wo 
 speak of, is subjective ; and the action or determining is its 
 objective side. And of the whole thing consciousness is cognizant. 
 True to its dual action, here as elsewhere, consciousness lays 
 hold of the power, the liberty, the proper self, on th(; one hand ; 
 and its acting, willing, determining on the other. But it is not 
 only in willing or determining there is this consciousness o^ self ov 
 power. In jierceptiou or memory ; without willing or before 
 willing, there is the same consciousness oi' self ; and hence the 
 same consciousness of liberty. If by his ''subjective acting," 
 Professor Young meant every mental movement and affection by 
 which we are brought into self-consciousness, as well as willing or 
 determining, there could be no objection to his statement. For 
 consciousness at its first and quickest light gives ns liberty. But 
 he meuns willing, and not the antecedent and natural spiritual 
 activity in sensation and perception. But this very activity of 
 sensation, perception, and conception antecedent to willing gives 
 us liberty. The very union and friction of body and sjjirit in our 
 waking hours keep us in sensation enough to hold us in 
 consciousness ; and hence to hold us in liberty, and in an unfailing 
 sense of liberty. And that antecedent to and outside of all 
 determinations of the will. For liberty is the inalienable property 
 of intelligence ; it is in the very nature and texture of the human 
 soul. The soul cannot be conscious without being conscious of 
 liberty. And it is surely not necessary to begin to will to bring us 
 into counsciousncss. Hence it is not necessary to begin to will to 
 bring us to a sense of liberty. If we had to wait to begin the put- 
 ting forth of an effort in the direction of an end in the mind's view 
 before we felt our freedom, we should never feel it ; for we Avould 
 never put forth such an effort unless we were first conscious of free- 
 dom. It is too late in the day to talk of a "deceptive sense" of 
 liberty ; and no one ever dreamed that we pome to the knowledge 
 of our liberty gradually, or little by little from the openings of ex- 
 perience. It is the first flash of intelligence ; and the babe proves 
 
 
i 
 
 its consciousness of it ; though it cannot describe it or call it by 
 name. Hence further, the doctrine of consciousness of freedom 
 in acting only, is contradictory and self-destructive. 
 
 As this is an important point in the inquiry we are prosecutin<y, 
 we may be allowed to ([uote and examine the author's statements 
 affecting it. "Mr. .T. S. Mill * * * draws the conclusion, 
 that the cause of fredom is lost. The appeal to consciousness on 
 which alone the assertion of freedom can be based, fails, because 
 the circumstance which the witness is called to prove is one to 
 which he cannot possibly depone. Mr. Mill's position here is 
 impregnable, if the true conception of freedom be that which his 
 argument assumes it to be. But I deny that this is the true 
 conception of freedom. We ar^* conscious of being free, not in 
 respect of things which we are not doing, and may never do, but 
 in the actions which we pertorm." And again, "Tn reasoning 
 against the dogma of Liberty of Indifference I have taken the 
 position that we are conscious of freedom in acting, but not of 
 freedom to act iii one or other of a variety of ways in which we are 
 not acting at the moment." 
 
 The question is as to the testimony consciousness on the subject 
 of personal liberty. Is the man, the mind, free? Have we power 
 to act in one or other of a variety of ways in which we are not 
 acting at the moment? Had we in thf beginning power to start in 
 a different line ot action from that in which we are moving ? That 
 is, might we at this moment have been doing something different 
 from what we are doing? Can we now arrest the present course 
 of action, and turn our energy in another direction ? What does 
 our consciousness say of this matter? It affirms every time, and 
 the fact sustains ihe affirmations. Else freedom is a delusion. 
 
 Mr, Mill, follow.ing up his utilitarianism, in which genuine 
 freedom and humaji accountability are coldly sepulchred, avers 
 that the cause of freedom is lost, because consciousness does not 
 and cannot attest the fact of its existence. Of the ordinarv 
 conception of liberty as an ability to do this or that or the other 
 of many things we are not now doing, he says, consiousness 
 restricted to present facts can tell nothing whatever. In this 
 view he cleaves close to the nature of consciousness, which is 
 indeed a witness of only the immediate present, of the mental fact 
 now, and not of any certainty, possibility or contingeny, past or 
 future.* So far, so good. But then on the other side he totally 
 
8 
 
 fails as to the nature of the thing to be attested, and which is by 
 consciousness, distinctly and positively attested. Professor Young 
 also draws clearly the lines bounding the province of consciousness ; 
 and also in my opinion fails as to the nature of the thing to be 
 attested. Hence he affirms with Mill that on the doctrine of 
 Indifference the cause of freedom is lost, for we are not conscious 
 of a liberty of Indifference. And so far he is right. If there is 
 no other conception of liberty thi.n an Indifferency, there is no 
 liberty ; for we are not conscious of this strange fiction of a false 
 Philosophy, and Indifference. New he attempts to save eur liberty 
 from both Mill's scheme »ad that of the Indifferentists by making 
 us conscious oi freedom in acting, but not oi freedom to act in one 
 way or another of many. Now I deem Mill's utilitarian scheme 
 wrong from beginning to end. There is not in it a ray of the pure 
 light that flashes on genuine liberty. Also, with Professor Young 
 I reject the liberty of Indifference, for reasons which I shall 
 presently phow. But I do not by any means allow that an 
 exhaustive alternative lies between the scheme of'Indifference and 
 Professor Young's scheme of liberty in acting. We are conscious 
 of liberty in acting to be sure ; because we are conscious of liberty 
 all the time we are conscious. The proposition is true, but it is not 
 the whole truth. It does not include the whole scope of freedom. 
 It is not equal to the just conception of a perfect liberty. This 
 perfect liberty is what Mill's utilitarianism knows nothing whatever 
 of, and what clearly understood, will enlarge and rectify the 
 scheme of the paper under consideration. I hold that our liberty 
 is not merely a liberty in acting ; but also a liberty to act in one 
 way or another, it may be of a thousand, in which we are not now 
 acting ; and I also hold that this latter is the liberty to which 
 consciousness bears witness. 
 
 It occurs to me we have a " petitio principilL in that it is said a 
 consciousness offreedon in acting is not a consciousness of freedom 
 to act in one way or other of a score of different ways. The fallacy 
 lies hidden in that word "freedom" in the expression, "conscious 
 of freedom in acting," For if "freedom" means anything, it 
 means freedom to act ; uncontrolled, unfettered power to act ; so 
 that the " to act" is enwombed in the "freedom." It is a living 
 union; separation is death. Hence the expression really means, 
 "conscious o^ freedom to act in acting." So readily granted, and 
 so unmistakably certain is this, that men ordinarily condider it 
 
 I 
 
 .1 
 
I 
 
 tautological to say " free to act" ; and conceive they have said all, 
 when they say, "the man is free." 
 
 We are conscious of freedom in acting. But what freedom is it 
 of which we are conscious? Undeniably it is the freedom to act 
 in one or another of a variety of ways in which we are not acting 
 at the moment. That is, while we are doing this thing, we 
 know^ we are conscious we might be doing another. We are 
 conscious we could suspend action if we would ; conscious that we 
 can break the present Ime of determinations at any point; can 
 change our course of action to obtain the end in view by another 
 route ; or can seek an entirely different end. And herein I use the 
 word "action" in its metaphysical sense ; subjectively, as indicated 
 in the lecture. It is the "exertion of an energy," "the subjective 
 putting forth of effort by an intelligent being" ; whether that 
 exertion be instantaneous on the provocation | or with deliberation, 
 preparatory to a final determination to a certain course ; or after 
 this full resolve, in the repeated or protracted determinations as 
 to the adoption of measures to render the central purpose effective. 
 No matter how hastily, or how deliberately we determine, we are 
 ever conscious of a power to determine otherwise. Rationally or 
 passionately or conscientiously, we may say we cannot; but 
 arbitrarily we can. But this is only a question as to the agent's 
 choice of motives. 
 
 There is then covered up in the word "freedom" the very idea 
 that Professor Young rejects. That is, he at once uses and rejects 
 it, which involves an absurdity. Freedom in acting is freedom to 
 act in acting, that is, to take another act than the one we are 
 taking. And consciousness of freedom in acting is consciousness 
 of freedom to act in other way or ways than the one we are taking. 
 This is the ever abiding testimony of consciousness, and never 
 forsakes us. Freedom is freedom and nothing less, whether it be 
 before acting, or in acting, or thVough acting, to the very end. 
 Consciousness tells us so, and surely consciousness will not lie. 
 The theory of the lecture separates things that are inseparable, 
 and creates an opposition where there is none in nature. It 
 misinterprets the testimony of consciousness and covers up its 
 fallacy in a word. 
 
 To help to a decision whether liberty in acting, or liberty to act 
 is the real testimony of consciousness, let us follow Professor 
 Young through his practical illustration. '^lam at liberty," ba 
 
10 
 
 says, " either to leave the platform on whieh I stand, or to remain 
 in my present position. Undoubtedly I am. But jvhat is here 
 is somethinff altonfether different from the liberty of Indifference 
 OH which I have been remarking. The meaning is : I have learned 
 from past experience that certain motions of my limbs are conse- 
 quent on certain subjective energies ; arguing then from the past 
 to the future, I believe that if I were at the present moment to put 
 forth such and such ener<?ies, these would issue in movements of 
 my limbs, m virtue of which I should step off the platform ; while 
 if the requisite energies be not put forth, I shall remain where T 
 am. But though I am convinced that the one result or the other 
 shall take place, accordingly as certain subjective energies are or 
 are not exerted, the conviction is not a datum of consciousness ; it 
 is an inference from experience, and one having nothing whatever 
 to do with my free agency, properly so called ; but only with the 
 outward results which experience teaches us lo connect with 
 particular exertions of free agency." 
 
 The conviction as to the connection of the locomotion or 
 non-locomotion vv, h the subjective energies is not indeed a datum 
 of consciousness. But then consciousness has some datum. Its 
 eye is not shut amid the movements or proposed movements of 
 these subjective energies. And the very question at issue is, 
 '• What is this datum of consciousness?" la it not the clear 
 attestation to the Professor, even before he acts subjectively, that 
 he has complete control of the subjective energies and can direct 
 them at pleasure ? If experience informs him that the outer 
 motion obeys the subjective act, does not consciousness as decisively 
 declare there is not only freedom in an act, but to any subjective 
 act ; and does it not declare the existence of this power, not only 
 in the acting but also before the acting, and continually? 
 
 In the illustration just quoted, the liberty to leave the platform, 
 as interpreted, is justly said to be different from the liberty of In- 
 difference. It is also entirely different from the liberty in actmg, 
 set forth in the pamphlet. It is the Lockian and Edwardian 
 liberty, that is no liberty at all : that can be annihilated with ropes 
 and chains. All that is necessary on this system to destroy man's 
 accountability is to tie his hands and feet. No one could for a 
 moment expect the subjective consciousness to gauge the objective 
 locomotion. 
 
 h 
 
11 
 
 )rm, 
 In- 
 
 I 
 
 Surely Prof. Young cannot put forward his interpretation of the 
 liberty to leave the platform as either the popular or the philoso- 
 phical conception of liberty ! What man is there, when he says 
 he is at liberty to leave the platform, that understands him merely 
 to mean that after he has passed the volition, his feet will obey 
 that volition? What man is there, be he rustic or learned Doctor, 
 but understands him to mean that he has power to determine to 
 stay or leave, as well as physical power to walk after he has 
 determined ? It seems like triflinfj with the grandest instincts of 
 humanity to say we mean by liberty in such a case as the one 
 supposed merely the movement of the limbs, the motion of the 
 body. This does not approach even the popular conception of 
 liberty, which embraces in its scope the motion of the mind at 
 least as prominently as the motion ot the body. The human race 
 has no scepticism and practically allows no cavil here. By being 
 at liberty to adopt one or otLer of two courses or a dozen that 
 may be open to them, men do not mean that they are not tied fast^ 
 or chained down, or held by a giant, or disabled by a paralysis. 
 Such a thought in the use of this expression scarcely ever enters 
 their heads. They mean just as they say, that they are at liberty 
 to determine this way or that way, and then do just as they 
 determine. They are at liberty both subjectively and objectively ; 
 and they consider the former the more important element. The 
 latter they find out by trial. ' -■""'^ ' 
 
 Now what does consciousness attest in the case in hand ? The 
 subjective action is not that the Professor remains on the stage ; 
 but that he determines to remain. And while he thus determines 
 is he not conscious of a power to determine otherwise ? Is he not 
 conscious that he is free to determine to go off the stage, or to 
 stand upon his head, or to take any attitude or antic whatever ? 
 Would he consider himself free with any less power in consciousness 
 and in fact ? Could he be conscious of freedom, if his ability to 
 determine, to act subjectwely were hampered or oveiborne ? 
 Would not such a consciousness be a lie ? And is not the 
 consciousness that witnesses to a power to dete) mine to stand still, 
 or to sit, or to walk about, a consciousness of a liberty to act, and 
 not simply a liberty in acting ? Is it not a consciousness of an 
 ability, while deciding one way, to decide any other of a variety of 
 ways? *'I believe that if 1 were at the present moment to put 
 fo rth such and such energies, they would issue iu movements of 
 
12 
 
 my limbs in virtue of which I should step off the platform." Just 
 so. This belief is on the ground of experience. And do you not 
 as firmly believe that you have power^ that you are free to put 
 forth such and such energies? Do you not at least as firmly 
 believe on the ground of consciousness ; that is, are you not 
 distinctly conscious, that while you stand by virtue of the 
 subjective action, you are perfectly competent at any moment to 
 change the subjective action in any direction ? That is, while you 
 are standing by determination, or as the result of subjective action, 
 are you not conscious of an ability to change the subjective action 
 do as to move the limbs to sit, or to walk, or to do any of a 
 hundred other things, as the result of the new tubjective action ? 
 Certainly there is such a consciousness ; and this is a consciousness 
 not only of liberty in acting ; but also, of a liberty to act in one 
 or other of a variety of ways in which we are not acting at the 
 moment. 
 
 The difficulty both with Mr. Mill and Professor Young, seems to 
 arise from their inability to bring their conception of liberty within 
 the sphere of co'^sciousness. They both clearly apprehend and 
 declare, that consciousness has to do only with the actually 
 subjective and present ; wherefore as freedom to act in one or 
 other of a variety of ways in which we are not acting at the 
 moment lays hold on what a man might do or will do ; that is, on 
 the contingent and the future, they say that this freedom must be 
 outside of the domain ot consciousness. Mr. Mill, therefore, says 
 the cause of freedom is lost j because consciousness could be the 
 only effective witness for freedom, and to the fact of freedom, as 
 outside of its sphere it cannot depone. Professor Young would 
 meet Mill, and save freedom by asserting that our freedom is not a 
 freedom to act, which he thinks involves the future and the 
 contingent, but a freedom in action, which is subjective and present ; 
 and therefore comes within the sphere of consciousness, and is a 
 point of its attestation. This view meets Mill indeed, but it loses 
 genuine freedom. The misapprehension of both these able writers 
 is as to the fact to which consciousness does depone. Now what 
 is that fact ? It must of course be a subjective and present fact. 
 It cannot be contingent and future, as these philosophers see. 
 That fact is freedom to act in one or other of various ways. This 
 freedom is not an act, but a power. It is not any action past 
 present or future ; necessary, possible or contingent ; but an ever 
 
 i\ 
 
13 
 
 on 
 
 ,S 
 
 present, an active and a subjective power. Hence it is ever in the 
 sphere of consciousness. The possible or future subjective act is 
 not in the sphere of consciousness. This is granted to Mill and 
 Young. But the power to perform that act, the power, the 
 untrammelled adilitf/, to act in this or that of many ways is in the 
 sphere of consciousness. And this power, this ability to act, is 
 freedom. Whence, freedom to act in one or other of many ways 
 is fully attested by cousciousuess. The fact attested is the 
 existence of a power which is present ; and not of an act which 
 may be future. 
 
 Before this analysis, this just conception of liberty and its 
 unmistakable proof in consciousness, fall both the theories under 
 review. If Youn<5's, then, a fortiori^ Mill's. But how shall we be 
 conscious of power otherwise than in acting ? I answer, we are 
 cons 'ious of it in the mind's natural and perpetual activity. And 
 here I distinguish " in activity" from " in acting." Intelligent and 
 free activity is the very nature and state of mind. It is the very 
 essence and constitution of rational spirit. Acting is a determinate 
 direction of the mental energy 5 in Professor Young's language.it 
 is the subjective putting forth of effort in the direction of an end, 
 which is in the mind's view. Activity then is a perpetual condition ; 
 acting is the movement of the condition to its legitimate result. 
 Moisture, greater or less, is the perpetual condition of the air. 
 Rain is the movement of that condition under proper coincidences 
 to its legitimate result. Mind is always active ; but it is not always 
 in distinctive volition ; not always putting forth effort to an end, 
 in its view. Now it is this perpetual activity, this .lever failing 
 power to act, that we call freedom, and that is in the sphere of 
 consciousness ; and not merely the subjective determination to an 
 end, the specific volition in view of motives. It is in this native 
 activity, before acting, that the mind is free to act in this way or 
 that; and consciousness, ecjual not only to every mental operation, 
 but also to every mental condition and state, sheds its calm and 
 pure light even in these penetralia of our being, this Holy of 
 Holies, and assures us at once of our freedom and our accounta- 
 bility. The very conlinenient of the spirit within tiie body, and its 
 connection with it ; the very fretting against the material organi- 
 zation, must develop its activity and render it conscious of its liberty 
 even when appetites do not clamor, or affections excite ; and when 
 reason is not specially called upon to direct. Every pure spirit 
 
i 
 
 14 
 
 must be conscious of a liberty to decide upon this plan or that, to 
 do this or that, to act in this way or that or the other of different 
 ways possible in the view of the intelligence. Can we suppose 
 that Diety had to act before He found out He is free, and is only 
 conscious of freedom in acting ? 
 
 In memory, judgment, perception, imagination, we are conscious 
 of mental acts, often intermitted 5 often started and often stopped. 
 They change. The mind passes from one to the other. But in 
 our natural mental activity we are conscious of freedom to act, 
 which is as continuous and uiynierrupted as consciousness itself. 
 jij It is in our very spiritual constitution, the unity and perpetuity of 
 
 our being. Indeed it is our very self, the bright domain where the 
 man is essentially the man and not the thing. The special charac- 
 teristics of the rational spirit are to know and to be free, and in 
 consciousness to know that it knows, and that it is free. These 
 are the distinctive marks that must ever separate it from brute- 
 spirit, and from inert matter. This unity of intelligence and 
 liberty in consciousness is our self- hood, manhood, personality. And 
 careful attention to these marks, would have saved from the 
 specious and seductive phrase of consciousness of liberty only in 
 acting. 
 
 The doctrine I am examining is the pivot- doctrine of the whole 
 lecture under review. Hence it is important that we look at it 
 from all sides, that we may the better .judge as to the system that 
 turns upon it. 
 
 To say that we are conscious of liberty only in acting seems to 
 me not only theoretically, but also practically, to restrict our liberty, 
 and to damage, if not totally destroy it. We feel and know our 
 freedom before acting, in Professor Young's sense of the word ; 
 that is, we are free to act before acting. And of this wo are 
 conscious, Else we are not free at all. If it is only after we have 
 commenced determining, after we have fallen into the groove of 
 acting that we are free and conscious of it, necessity is upon us 
 before we are free ; that is, necessity first and freedom afterwards. 
 For as Professor Young says, there is no indifference or a conscious- 
 ness of it. But necessity first, and freedom afterward, cannot be. 
 Freedom to act is the natural state of man and that of which he is 
 conscious. I am now writing. I feel free to determine to continue, 
 or to cease. This is consciousness of liberty in acting. Propose 
 to me to go out of the room for a certain purpose. lam conscious 
 
 •> 
 
15 
 
 
 I lie, 
 
 of my freedom to act the instant you make the proposition. Your 
 proposition but brinijs this ever-abiding freedom prominently into 
 present knowledge. And that, before I have in the least decided 
 as to ray course, that is, before I act at all in the case before me. 
 The very placing of the alternative before me renders me conscious 
 of ray freedom. You appeal ; you pres . This demonstrates 
 your iaea of your own freedom, and your consequent conviction as ' 
 to the nature of mine. I begin to consider, I hesitate, I think it 
 over, I decide : or I may decide instantaneously upon your propo- 
 sition. In either case the first thin^ I am conscious of is ray 
 freedom to act in one way or the other. The very fact that you 
 propose render* me conscious of this freedom. And that too prior 
 to any action other than the flash of that conviction of freedom 
 upon the mind. That conviction must be in conscionsness before 
 acting ; otherwise the mind would not attempt to act. Let it suspect 
 it is not free to act before acting, and it will never act. The lie 
 and the cheat can have no semblance of credit for truth and 
 honestv in the realm of consciousness, omniscient within its domain 
 as God in the world. , 
 
 This freedom exclusively in acting, as that after the subjective 
 action, would destroy all proper spiritual and intellectual activity. 
 To wait for the consciousness of freedom in acting, as after acting, 
 would be the direst necessity. We must know, be aware, conscious, 
 that we are free to act in one or other of different ways, else we 
 would not act at all. But this freedom in acting drives us into a 
 groove, and then we are free to run in the groove. Tt is like the 
 liberty of a rail-car, confined to one track. Edwards' freedom is 
 the rail car with its wheels not locked, its piston not clamped, its 
 machinery free to move, no matter what obstructions lie across 
 the track. Young's freedom takes away these obstructions, and 
 lets the car sweep along. But it must run on that one track. 
 Necessity starts it. Necessity keeps it in motion and in its line. 
 This is a freedom to one thing, a freedom in actiny, hedged all 
 around with an unrelenting necessity. But this is not human freedom 
 in its start, progress or termination. This is not tb(^ freedom that 
 renders us accountable t(, God, Himself free. 'J'here is notliing 
 in it akin to our liberty to act, to choose any one of" different ways 
 within the scope of rational possibility. 
 
 T consider that the supreme practical importance of this subject 
 justifies the utmost care in examination, and emphatic repetition 
 
16 
 
 of refutation. It is extremely dangerous to tamper, with human 
 I III \ liberty. In all history there is no other so fruitful mother of error 
 
 as necessity in its various phases. Its progeny of false philosophy, 
 corrupt morals and bad life ravages and defiles the earth, and 
 darkens the very heav^nf . So far aa it prevails it checks human 
 progress and blots out human hope. Thank God, the instincts of 
 our race are stronger than the bonds of philosophic systems. 
 Liberty, ineradicable from consciousness, simultaneous and con- 
 current with consciousness, is never tor a moment questioned by 
 earnest men that lead the wor'd, and by the long processions that 
 wend their toilsome way through the valleys and up the hills of 
 time and disappear over the heights that skirt the border land of 
 the unknown and the eternal. It is never doubted by the busy 
 multitudes that enjoy life or endure it ; or are lifted in its use to 
 greater heights of enjoyment, or in its abuse are sunk to a greater 
 wretchedness . It is left for the schools and the systems, the dos:mas 
 and the creeds to assail this fundamental faith of our race. It is 
 reserved for here and there a theologian and a philosopher to 
 impeach this universal instinct of humanity from infancy to age. 
 While the millions in the conscious exercise of freedom, labor, loiter 
 and rest, struggle and triumph, weep and rejoice ; while their heads 
 are bowed amid the realities of life, and all are attentive to the 
 great facts of being, haopiness and destiny, or are listless spectators 
 paying no heed thereto, a voice comes from the philosopher who 
 claims to have reached a superior eminence of thought and wisdom 
 and doubts or denies to the active multitudes their profoundest 
 convictions and their primitive, unsuspected and universally 
 accepted beliefs. Some careless spectators may catch the doubts 
 and noise them abroad ; philosophers may rear their systems and 
 mislead and deceive many men ; a few of the toilers may lift their 
 heads and listen to the cry for a little. But the vast majority 
 keep steadily engaged grovelling on earth, or climbing to the skies. 
 And we may well thank God that we are so made. To this speca- 
 lator on his boasted eminence, this compound of credulity, doubt 
 and dogmatism, calling himself the philosopher, the human race is 
 not even the flies sporting in the summer evening, but the swarm 
 swept before the tempest ; not even the minnows playing in the 
 quiet water by the shore, but the school borne down and scattered 
 by the sudden torrent. And strangest of all, while carried away 
 of such violencCi they fancy they are going in their own proper 
 
 I 
 
17 
 
 ! 
 
 motion and are free. Surely it must take something greater and 
 something worse than man to originate and execute such a 
 delusion. 
 
 Not by any means that such intentions are charged upon the 
 system under review. Rut we should be jealous for freedom. For 
 only to a perfect subjective freedom cnn a perfect responsibility 
 be attached, and nothing less than 51 perfect and entire responsi- 
 bility will conserve virtue on earth, or vitally connect man's 
 destiny with the eternal order, the absolute good, the infinite God. 
 
 One of the best tests of a doctrine is in its consecjuences. And 
 thus I i)ropose to measure the doctrine of this pamphlet. The 
 (question is. where does this freedom in acting practically leave us? 
 fs it a freedom to which an accountability can be attached: or on 
 which a reform in conduct can be wrought out? Upon this let 
 the author speak. '• Motives are the moral causes of our volitions, 
 and the necessity which attaches 10 their operation is a moral 
 necessity. IJut what do the expressions moral cause and moral 
 necessity mean ? I do not know that any other answer can be 
 given than that they denote the lelation between the nature of an 
 intelligent agent and the ends wliicli in given circumstances he 
 prefers, or the actiotis which under given circumstances he 
 voluntarily jjerforms. One {)erson is tempted to steal a sum of 
 money. He is a good man and resists the temptation. Another 
 is tempted to steal. He is a bad man and gives way to the temp- 
 tation. ]n general, the course which a person takes, when certain 
 ends in any respects desirable are present to his mind, will depend 
 on the answer to the question, 'What sort of a person is he?' 
 With given motives brought to bear upon you, you being such a 
 person as you are act .as you do ; whereas, it you had been a 
 different soit of a person, you would have acted differently. * * 
 • * * Actions are merely the evolutions of nature, nature 
 unfolding itself. The doctrine of moral necessity, therefore, in so 
 far as it pretends to go beyond the simple fact that men act from 
 motives, is a truism. ' In pursuance of given desirable ends, a man 
 must choose as he does — of couise he jnust ; for to suppose his 
 choice dilferent from what it is, would be to suppose that he is a 
 different man from what he is. ' His actions must have a moral 
 cause ; they must be according to his nature.' Of course they 
 must ; for we conceive nature as of this or that particular sort only 
 by conceiving the actions in which it develops itself," 
 
18 
 
 II 
 
 Alas for liberty ! If this be freedom, what is necessity ! How 
 is man in a probation on this system ? If he is bad, what hope 
 has he to become good ? If he is good, what fear to become bad ? 
 What hope of reform? What fear of deterioration? Character 
 j;iven, and incentives given, conduct is fixed. The good man must 
 become better ; the bad man worse. Or if it be not so, it is not 
 inherent freedom that saves the one and damages the other ; it 
 is because his circumstances are changed. Temptations in the one 
 case may be lessened : in the other increased ; and the man acts 
 accordingly. He has in himself no power to rise and change his 
 course. He cannot rise from vice to virtue, or fall from virtue to 
 vice, by his own motion. By his own act he can make no difference . 
 External circumstances over which he has no control make all the 
 difference. Helplessly drifting down the currents of evil, he can 
 find no foothold, no jjower to leap in his own liberty. What a 
 dire necessity ! What is this moral necessity but a hundred fold 
 more rigid than any physical necessity ! Let the seed be of such 
 a nature and state, and the heat, light and moisture of such a 
 degree ; then such a plant will sprout and grow, and come to 
 maturity. Let a man be of such a nature under such a pressure, 
 and you can calculate his action by this moral arithmetic. It is 
 more rigid than a mechanical necessity. ]jet such a pressure be 
 put upon one end of the lever, then the other end must rise : 
 otherwise, not. Tempt this man with this consideration, he tmisi 
 act as he does. Try another with the same consideration ; he 
 must act differently. Surely on this system accountability is gone. 
 There is no genuine liberty. '■' •. .. 
 
 This scheme makes human action but the evolution of the moral 
 nature ; and joins motive and conduct with the link of efficient, oi- 
 original causation. It destroys the idea that the free being is a 
 cause to himself, has a power of self-control, a governing pov.'Oj- 
 amid motives ; and breaks down the distinction between cause of 
 action and occasion of action. In the moral world it is a scheme 
 of development, of self-evolution, very much like the German 
 idealism in the metaphysical world. This latter says that what we 
 call the outer world, all things we see and feel, are but the 
 developments and limitations of our own minds, of the Ego. This 
 moral system says our conduct is but the irrepressible and 
 unchangeable development of our nature. The German rational- 
 ism gives us a rigid Pantheism ; and this moral system gives us a 
 
19 
 
 ri^id " moral necessity." A man of course has his nature to start 
 with, 80 that his second action is the evolution from the first ; and 
 so on ad -infinitum. Or perhaps the circumstances are to break in 
 on the line of development. A ccordin;^- to the system the selection 
 of circumstances would be but a part of the development. But 
 we will allow for argument an inc^rr.iptin;^ power to outer circum- 
 stances ; how will that be better for man's accountability ? How 
 can he be responsible, if his life is overborne either by a developing 
 nature within, or by concatenating; circumstances without ? In 
 neither case would he have a moral freedom. He must possess a 
 power of self-assertion, self-direction and self-domination. Nature 
 within may demand ; and circumstances without may clamor ; but 
 he must be lord of the situation, able to choose above both, to 
 decide his course, and act upon his resolve. 
 
 After all, this view, re])ugnaut as it is, is consistent with the 
 main position of the lecture, that we are conscious of freedom 
 only in acting. Like Hume's Scejiticism from Locke's Sensation- 
 alism, it is the fair lo;,ncal sequence of the premises. For if we 
 are not conscious of freedom, as a power to act this way or that 
 on the proposition to act and before the action is taken ; but only 
 a power to do as we are doin^f, that is, freedom ni action, how 
 should it be otherwise than that we should take our <(roovc and 
 run in it ? That is, being good, how is it that we should do 
 otherwise than continue good; or if bad, continue bud? The 
 consequences and leanings of such a doctrine are easily seen. 
 This ''moral necessity," accruing to consciousness of freedom in 
 action, is not the first case of a fatal error for practical life 
 springing out of a metaphysical nnstake. And surely this must be 
 an error ; for no more rigid necessity than this moral necessity 
 do we find in the history of Philosophy. It contradicts all human 
 experience and human life. And this must condemn any theory. 
 
 Liberty, genuine liberty, is not thus cramped and ctaifined ; nor 
 is it attended by so deplorable consequences. It is perfect ; or it 
 is not at all. It has no degrees ; it admits no fractional scale : It 
 knows no piecemeal action. And this is the reascn that the most 
 profound necessarians deny the possibility of liberty. They could 
 not admit its perfectness ; hence they could not admit its existence. 
 We affirm simply that it is perfect ; not that it is omnipotent. It 
 is perfect for man in his sphere. What I believe this perfect 
 liberty to be, I have already more than intimated. It is the self- 
 
~ 
 
 I ■ J wu ■■■■1 lip 
 
 20 
 
 determinimj power of fhe mind upon the iii()ti\es within its 
 co;^nition and fe(!lin<i-. I do not for a minute admit that this self 
 determining power is the same as the liberty of Iiidijf'ereiice, as is 
 maintained in the Lecture. We are not conscious of a liberty of 
 Indifference, as is justly said: but we are conscious of a self-deter- 
 mining power, of a liberty to act subjectively in one or other of 
 many ways we are not acting at this mouujnt. Our liberty is not 
 a liberty of Indifference ; but a liberty of activity, of Reason 
 and Intelligence. The mind is active, rational, spiritual and 
 free. It is not shaped and overborne by forces fiom without; 
 but \t arises by its inherent energies, contemplates and nu^asures 
 those forces, and then in the verv midst of their ur^^encv ami 
 clamor acts its own ))leasure, determines itself. It is not a piece 
 of putty or clay to be j)unched or moulded or im})ressed as it may 
 be struck or indented l)y some outside violence ; but it is a spirit 
 intelligent and free, to which external intluences may pay their 
 court, but whose selection they must abide, and whose nod tlu'y 
 must obey. One man nuiy deal with them one way : another man 
 another. i\ny man uuiy deal with them this way this tinu^, and 
 that way next. There is no Ai-ithmetic of the Will. It often 
 deties both (leometry and Logic. The reasoning may be all right, 
 the conclusion all sound ; so that you exjject to tind the nuin here ; 
 but he turns up over yonder. The next time you say, " Ah, that's 
 his way, is it ? That's his law of action ? Then I will be able to 
 put my hand on him when I want him." J>ut you put your hand 
 down, and the man is not there. The trouble is, the nuin is free. 
 Amid all inducements he determines at his ])leasure. His sub- 
 jective action is free. He is free to act. to turn this way or that, 
 to cross fiH)m one lint- of action to another, to extend a [)revious 
 action or reverse it. And thus it is that we have such a variety of 
 human character. No two men are alike in all resj)ects. Of 
 course there are countless i)ernuitatious aiul combinations t)f 
 external indueuces and iuternai disjiositioiis, but these will not 
 explain all the varied and erratic lines of human action, if men 
 were nuichines, nu)ved and moMed by external enei-gies, human 
 conduct would come nu)re within the nuithematics of j)rojectiles ; 
 and we might readily institute calculations and e(|uations in moial 
 and social dynamics. iUit the trouble is, men aie free. A 
 thousand men nuiy have the same i)remises, [)rosecute the same 
 ratiocination, reach the same conviction and doctrine, and after all 
 
21 
 
 of 
 Of 
 
 of 
 10 1 
 ion 
 an 
 
 5 
 lul 
 
 A 
 
 lie 
 all 
 
 no two likely will take the same course of practical external action, 
 the same line of conduct. And in general, what is this external 
 action but the nianifestation of the internal, subjective, rational 
 and free energy and action, ruling among the desires and disposi- 
 tions of the mind and the presentations of the outer world? 
 
 This whole (piestiou is vexed to death with that most perverse 
 and vicious phrase, "motives determine the Will" ; as though 
 motives were active and the Will jiassive ; instead of the Will 
 being active and the motives ])assive. One would think the outer 
 world came in on the mind, mstead of the mind's arising and press- 
 ing against the outer world. Another serious dithculty is interj)osed 
 by substituting the word " Will" for the word " mind" or '• agent." 
 It is the mind that acts in willinji-, just as it is the mind that acts 
 in perceiving or remembering. No subject in the whole range of 
 Philosophy seems to have the faculty of ])acking so much error in 
 so small a space as this very doctrine of necessity. Take, for 
 instance, the necessarian definition of liberty, " the ])ower to do as 
 we will." What a quiet unassimiing phrase. And yet, according 
 to Professor Young's own concession, how sul)versive of genuine 
 liberty! Even so with this exj)ression, "motives determine the 
 will." The lecture under review makes this doctrine, so replete 
 with error, tantamount to the doctrine, that men act upon motives. 
 Was there ever before so nncompromising an opposition called a 
 reconciliation ? The two doctrines are entirely antagonistic, 
 positively and directly antipodal. They are so clearly contradic- 
 tory, that if the one stands the other must fall. Can darkness and 
 light be reconciled ? Then may tliese op})osite doctrines, '' motives 
 determine the Will" and "Men act ii])on motives." T'lie first 
 procecnils u[)()n the disintegration and 'passivity of mind ; the 
 second upon its unity and activity. Surely there needs be no wider 
 distinction than this ; for the two doctrines are at the o])i)osite 
 poles of mental Philosophy. The one is the central idea of eon- 
 catenated eri-or ; the other the throl)bing heart of living philoso- 
 phic truth. Hut a system that arose; from confounding Will and 
 Desire could have little difficulty in confounding' Activity and 
 Passivity of mind to maintain its consistency and jjerpetuate its 
 u'rowth. . ^ 
 
 When we say, "Men actfnmi motives," even this formula would 
 be objectionable, were it designed to convey the idea that in 
 motives there is any-'eflicient causation. The mind is to itself the 
 
efficient cause ; the motive is but the occasion of action. A 
 » «|| t motive is an occasion to volition, as the presentation of a 
 
 phenomenon is the occasion to the application of a principle. 
 But with this noticeable difference in the constitution and character 
 of the mind ; there is a freedom in the volition, and a necessity as 
 to the application of the principle of the intelligence. When the 
 motive is presented, the man is not free to will or not will, at his 
 pleasure. He must will, that is, he must determine some way or 
 other. He is not free to will or not will ; but he is free to will or 
 determine in this way or that of a thousand. But he can not apply 
 a principle in this or that way of a thousand. He can apply it in 
 only one wav, and that way the law o^h^J^^^^n. In volition 
 the motive is the occasion of the actiontis free ; that is the free 
 and efficient cause. As when we say, the man made the wagon to 
 convey the goods. The man is certainly the efficient cause ; the 
 conveyance of the goods is but the occasion of this work. He 
 was first free to determine to m. ':e the wagon, and then free to make 
 it after he had deteiinined. *• Being thirsty, he determined to get a 
 drink." The " he" is the efficient cause ; the thirst is the occasion. 
 He might have determined otherwise. Men never act in the proper 
 sense of the word without motives. This is undeniable. But then 
 what are these motives to a being rational and free ? Are they 
 the urgency of the world upon the mind, er of the mind upon the 
 world ? Does the sugar, or the bread, or the money, or the office 
 lay plans upon the man and circumvent and foil and decide and 
 direct him ? Or does the man find in himself certain capabilities 
 and susce]>tibilities, and seek their employment and satisfaction ? 
 The activity is in the mind. It presses upon the outer world. In 
 its activity it discovers a thousand directions of action ; a thousand 
 reasons, one for determining one way, another for another. It 
 regards them all with equal eye and decides at its pleas/e. In its 
 normal state it is master of tlie situation. The cool eye of 
 Reason surveys the scene, and the strong voice of the Will directs 
 the conduct. .«!*».. 
 
 y • There is nothing approaching efficient causation in motive. 
 The mind has a self determining power amid all motives. And 
 this self-determining power is by no means the Liberty of InditFer- 
 ence. It is independent and free activity. It is of course expected 
 of a rational being to decide rationally ; but this expectation is 
 often doomed to disappointment. He may take any one of scores 
 
 \ 
 
23 
 
 \ 
 
 of degrees of divergencies from the rfttional action, till he has 
 passed completely round the circle to the decidedly opposite and 
 most irrational that could be conceived. And on every radius he 
 is not only free to go one way or the other, but at any time to 
 change to another radius ; not only feee in acting, but free also to 
 act. • , f, • ^ . * 
 
 A being rational and free, examines the various motives 
 presented ; and proves, not the strength of the motive, but the 
 perfection both of reason and freedom, by choosing the better 
 part. Another may prove the perfection of his reason by reaching 
 the same conclusion ; and then show his liberty to abuse his liberty 
 and himself by choosing the worst part. We are free even to 
 abdicate our freedom. Suddenly or slowly we may either establish 
 our freedom for ever, And dwell perpetually in its serene and 
 glorious light ; or we may quench its brightness in an everlasting 
 darkness. And herein is the grandest freedom, when a man makes 
 one noble resolve and devotion to virtue, and cleaves thereto for 
 life. The heroes in prison and the martyrs at the stake have been 
 the freest of men,and exemplified the sublimest liberty of Conscience 
 and Reason. And herein is the direst servitude, when a man has 
 given himself over to desire or lust, till the voice of Reason and 
 Freedom, his proper self, is drowned amid the ex'^'rnal clamors; 
 and the man by his own act surrendering his manhood, ceasing to 
 be a man and becoming a thing, is whirled away by the currents of 
 passion from the moorings of honor and virtue. 
 
 The liberty of Indifference is often in the lecture under review 
 set over against the Edwardian Necessity, auii seems to be spoken 
 of as the system of the Libertarians. The alternative is put 
 between it and some kind of necessity ; which alternative is by no 
 means exhaustive. This liberty of Indifference is not by any means 
 the scheme of the advocates of the profoundest and loftiest human 
 freedom. It is not even equal to the popular conception of liberty, 
 that stirs the human spirit in all ages and climes. To say the least 
 of it, it is a very unhappy title, and totally misleading as to the 
 true nature of liberty. It is born of a vicious philosophy, and is a 
 prolific source of false imputation and error. Even upon those 
 that have used the phrase to designate genuine liberty, carelessness 
 of language must be charged. It arose in the days of the preva- 
 lence of Sensationalism, when the mind was accounted a blank 
 tablet, and our ideas were held all to come from the outer world. 
 
"^W—WTfllf • i,(-ip^f U-Wijil-'H'^-IT" 
 
 1^ 
 
 r I 
 
 Then of course the mind must wait to be addressed, or like a piece 
 of putty, to be impressed ; and until so addressed or impressed it is 
 inactive or indifferent. And as long as it is equally impressed by 
 opposite forces, it remains indifferent ; when the balance is 
 disturbed it goes with the "strongest motive." , ,, ,• , 
 
 A liberty of Indifference, or equipoise, or of counterpoise, or 
 preponderance, or prevalence, is every one alike a misnomer, a 
 contradiction of terms, a misrepresentation of the character of 
 mind, the loss of true liberty and a total burial in necessity. This 
 idea of Indifference involves again the doctrine of the total passivity 
 of mind. According to it mind is an inner intelligence, waiting to 
 be approached and wholly determined by what does approach. It 
 is regardless of all things, as the God of Hrahminism, till something 
 addresses it. \i' but one thing addresses it,. it must go with that 
 one ; if several, it must move with the weightiest, or the one 
 making the strongest claim. This is Edwards' strongest motive 
 system, which Professor Young promptly and vigorously rejects. 
 What can be meant by this [ndifference? Is it before the action, 
 before willing ; or in and through the action, or after it ? Our 
 case before any proposition to act cannot be called Indifference. 
 It is ignorance, non-acquaintance ; and we are free in our ignorance. 
 After the proposition to act, there is no longer indifference. There 
 is at once action, or a tendency to action with a consciousness of 
 freedom. Certainly there is no indifference in acting, or in prose- 
 cuting the action to external results. The mind is not passive, but 
 active ; and even during the hours of consciousness, the play of 
 the faculties on the Will, and the pressure of the Will on the 
 Faculties, give the consciousness of activity, of power, of freedom. 
 But I'^difference points to a balance, an equipoise, to which some- 
 thing external is added Mid turns the scale. It is the old story of 
 the ass between the bundles of hay. In such a system motives 
 govern the will, sway the determination. But this is not the 
 system of the libertarians, nor is it by any means genuine freedom. 
 
 The perpetual error is in making motives something wholly 
 external to the mind. Evidenj^y they partake of the character 
 of the mind ; for what is motive to one man has no incentive for 
 another. External objects are much the same to all, yet men find 
 in them multiform and numerous impulses. Asm our conceptions 
 and judgment the mind supplies the rational form ; so in our 
 determinations— the roiud suppliee the volitional form ; but again 
 
 *», 
 
25 
 
 3 a piece 
 
 3sed it is 
 essed by 
 iance is 
 
 poise, or 
 lomer, a 
 acter of 
 y. This 
 passivity 
 aitino; to 
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 inething 
 /ith that 
 the one 
 t motive 
 rejects, 
 e action, 
 t ? Our 
 fference. 
 noranee. 
 There 
 sness of 
 n prose - 
 sive, but 
 play of 
 on the 
 reedom. 
 h some- 
 story of 
 motives 
 not the 
 reedom. 
 
 wholly 
 luracter 
 itive for 
 nen find 
 ecptions 
 
 in our 
 it again 
 
 with this difference in the very constitution of mind, that the 
 rational form is necessitated, but the volitional is free. And our 
 freedom touches a point far back of the mere dealing with impulses 
 brought into the range of our sensibility and intelligence. Our 
 freedom has very much to do with the formation of our mental 
 character, the very character that gives its tinge to our impulses 
 and volitions. And here, while on the one hand we do not allow 
 that outer circumstances make motives to compel the mind ; on 
 the other we are as far from allowing that the mind's own character 
 imposes as dire a necessity and effectually forces or restrains its 
 actions. We do not suffer the doctrine of either a subjective or 
 an objective necessity. Neither do we suffer the doctrine of an 
 Indifference. Our doctrine is liberty. Man is rational, intelligent, 
 active and free. Hence he is accountable ; and both morality and 
 religion become not only possibilities, but also facts. 
 
 One opening this lecture that has passed under review would 
 suppose that it was about to break away from the trammels of 
 system, and give to man a genuine freedom, Its first propositions 
 are clear for liberty. That voluntary action is a subjective energy 
 directed to a definite end on the mind's view, would appear enough 
 to satisfy any one. But the full force of these clear and concise 
 definitions is subsequently lost in the mazes of the pre-conceived 
 system. It was a noble conception to strike to break these 
 ancient bonds ; the scheme is ingenious ; but the weapon is 
 insufficient, and the attempt a failure. This liberty in acting may 
 be a pleasant thing to contemplate, and an improvement on the 
 old fashioned and faded necessity ; but it is not human liberty, 
 which is a liberty to act, and which alone can justify government 
 and penalty and law, and make man moral and accountable. 
 Again, " that moral liberty and necessity are the relations which 
 subsist between the nature of an intelligent being and the actions, 
 which under given circumstances he voluntarily performs," might 
 not appear objectionable, if the subsequent explanation in obedience 
 to a system did not destroy ifiyery tope. With this expression 
 '' under given circumstances" i^ntrocluced a rigid necessity ; not 
 a moral liberty, but a moral arithmetic. For character being given 
 and circumstances given, you can on this system, calculate a man's 
 moral movements v/ith all the precision of ratios, and all the 
 certainty of the going and returning of the heavenly orba. 
 
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 26 
 
 The whole paper affords but another instance of the truth, that 
 it is diflicnlt to break away from venerated systems. It acknow- 
 ledges the Gfreat error of necessarianism, and seeks to escape it. 
 But it tries with force rather than reason. It attempts to reconcile 
 things totally irreconcilable ; and re^iards as adjacent and simdar, 
 things that are infinitely separated and totally repugnant. I 
 cannot but look upon it as an effort to show that there is not 
 after all much difference between necessity and freedom, to back 
 down from the high positions of fate and destiny, and live among 
 the sensible people of the world. It is a deference to Reason, an 
 obeisance to the common sense of mankind. And this, we may 
 rejoice is with many and with increasing numbers, regarding these 
 doctrines, a manifest tendency of our times. 
 
 /'