*<1I m / c* ^. REESE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. Received t--^^^^^.^ JcScSJ/. Accessions iVo.JZ'^/.^/... Shelf No.. Z¥ ^3 Digitized by tine Internet Arcinive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/essayonmoralfreeOOcrybricli ^ AN ESSAY ON MORAL FREEDOM, &c. AN ESSAY ON MORAL FREEDOM: TO WHICH IS ATTACHED, A REVIEW OF THE PBINCIPLES OF DR. WHITBY AND PRESIDENT EDWARDS ON FREE WILL; AND OF DR. BROWN'S THEORY OF CAUSATION AND AGENCY. REV. THOMAS TULLY CRYBBACE, A. M. AUTHOR OF " AN ESSAY dN THE EXTENT OF HUMAN AND DIVINE AGENCY IN THE PRQJiUMnBP!ah«4YiNG FAITH. ,da e»t. Bacok. EDINBURGH : WAUGH AND INNES. OGLE, GLASGOW; W. CUIIRY, JUN. & CO. DUBLIN; JAMES DUNCAN, AND WHITTAKER, TREACHER & ARNOT, LONDON. M.DCCC.XXIX. C7 ^ 5"/^^ EDlXJillRGH : THIKTED 8V A. BALFOUtt & CO. HIGH STUEET. REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D. D. PROFESSOR OF THEOLOGY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH. REVEREND SIR, In having the honour to inscribe to you the fol- lowing Essay, I will not distress you with the impertinence of admiration and eulogy, ** By the grace of God I am what I am," is not more the principle of your theology than the sentiment of your heart ; and while the sentiment sup- presses all seeking of honour from men on the one hand, the principle should surely check all tendency to hold men's persons in admiration on the other, and awaken rather a sympathetic feel- ing of gratitude to Him who, as the God of na- ture or of grace, is the author of all that is ex- cellent and admirable in human character. VI DEDICATION. Of the leading principles of the present Essay, you formerly did me the honour to express your approbation ; and, since that time, I have had a public opportunity of perceiving more fully how exactly the views here given coincide with your own, so far as you deemed it necessary to examine the subject. Of the importance of the inquiry it is needless to say any thing. " The question about free will,'* says Dugald Stewart, " has furnished, in all ages and countries, inexhaustible matter of contention both to philosophers and divines. In the ancient schools of Greece, it is well known how generally and keenly it was agitated. Among the Mahometans, it constitutes one of the prin- cipal points of division between the followers of Omar and those of Ali ; and among the ancient Jews, it was the subject of endless dispute be- tween the Pharisees and Sadducees. It is scarce- ly necessary for me to add what violent contro- versies it has produced, and still continues to produce, in the Christian world."* And it is not as a matter of curious specula- tion, that this subject has so deeply engaged the attention of men of all ages, sects, and countries. * Stewart's Intellectual and Active Powers, Vol. II. App. I. DEDICATION. VU It lies at the foundation of morar obligation, and hence of all religion, natural and revealed. To the Christian, in particular, the subject of liberty must ever be peculiarly interesting. Not- withstanding all the laborious efforts to establish universal necessity, he knows, on the highest evidence, that there is indeed a liberty with which the Divine Redeemer makes his people free ; but how can this be understood without knowing the nature of the being who enjoys it ? Ignorance of the human constitution, and its present condition, is the principal cause of the endless controversies among Christians. Did man know himself, the feeHngs of humi- lity, of faith, and of gratitude would quickly supersede the rancorous passions of the disputant. And perhaps there is not a subject in the whole compass of theology, whose explication would so directly and completely remove so many grounds of difference among inquiring Christ- ians as that of liberty and necessity. Were this subject fully illustrated, it might be considered one of the most hopeful tokens that the period was at hand, when the watchmen shall see eye to eye, and when with the voice together they shall sing ; and the Christian church shall at length be Vlll DEDICATION. delivered from that wisdom, earthly, brutal and devilish, which has led the ministers of truth to wrangle about they knew not what, while the multitudes gazing around were allowed to perish for lack of the knowledge of those truths on which they were all agreed. Allow me then. Sir, to state briefly how far the subject of liberty has been satisfactorily ex- plained, and at which points it still requires il- lustration. Mr. Hume, President Edwards, and others have put beyond all doubt the universality of causation or philosophical necessity. Every thing has a cause, except the eternal First Cause, whose name therefore is, ** I am that I am ;" and every action implies an agent who has had power to perform it. So far there is no differ- ence of opinion ; but should we hence conclude the universality of any necessity opposed to free- dom ? Quite the reverse. This necessity, as shall be shown, is nothing but the simple fact, that agents exists and proves no necessity but that which is stated in the proposition — a thing cannot be, and not be simultaneously. As a stone is, because it is solid, &c. ; so a being is an agent because he has power to secure the regu- DEDICATION. IX lar performance of the actions peculiar to his nature. To maintain therefore the universaUty of philosophical necessity, is just to affirm the fact of the existence of agents ; and accordingly, as shall be afterwards shown, while one class of philosophers have written many a huge volume to prove to mankind, that while a being is, he must he; another class have strenuously main- tained that in order to be free he must be anni- hilated. The dispute, as generally managed, between the necessitarian and libertarian, has truly regarded only the existence of the agent, and not the liberty or necessity of an agent who actually has a being. The necessity of the one states just the fact, / am ; the liberty of the other asserts, / a?n not To free us from all such misconceptions, we are first of all to inquire, what is an agent ; and then having settled this preliminary inquiry, and taken, as a matter of fact, the existence of the being whose condition it is required to ascertain, we are prepared to inquire further, what is the liberty of such and such an agent, and what the opposite state of necessity. The philosophical necessity is the fact of his existence as a being possessed of the power of agency ; real necessity can be nothing but a state of an agent who X DEDICATION. already exists. By thus distinguishing philoso- phical and real necessity, we shall be delivered at once from a fearful host of arguments on both sides, which will be found utterly irrelevant and unmeaning; and obtain a fine illustration of the justness of the remark of Dr. Brown, that ** to remove a number of cumbrous words is, in many cases, all that is necessary to render dis- tinctly visible, as it were to our very glance, truths, which they and they only, have been for ages hiding from our view." This true method of inquiry, indeed, was laid down by Edwards, though he did not carry it forward to its legitimate conclusions. Free- dom he proved to be the enjoyment of power j necessity to be the result of weakness. The volun- tary agent, for example, is free when he is able to carry his will into effect, but labours under the opposite state of real necessity, when his will is opposed and frustrated by irresistible physi- cal force. To both these opposite states of being, it is plain, causation or philosophical necessity is equally necessary, that is, whether a being enjoy power and is free, or is weak and is oppressed by the superior power of another, the law of causation equally prevails. DEDICATION. XI Pursuing the inquiry on this just principle, Edwards and all the necessitarians admit that man is, in one sense, free when he does as he chooses, and is in the opposite state of necessity when his will is opposed and resisted. And that man, when free from all compulsion and re- straint, does uniformly act according to his voli- tions cannot be doubted, and so far all are agreed. The question then becomes, whether this is all the liberty enjoyed by man. Hume, Edwards, &c. maintain that it is, and hold it absurd to imagine, that man should possess a higher de- gree of freedom than the power of doing as he chooses and finds most agreeable. That this is the whole ofjree will, as it is usu- ally termed, or all the liberty of the voluntary agent who regulates his actions by his volitions, Mr. Locke long since demonstrated ; but that it is not all the liberty possessed by man shall af- terwards appear. It is common to man with the brutes ; and it is not the muscular motions con- sequent upon volition, but the will itself which man is required, by the law of God, to regulate ; and therefore if he has the power only of deter- mining his actions by his volitions, but not of con- trolling and regulating the volitions themselves. XU DEDICATION. he plainly cannot be the subject of moral obliga- tion. This power is the proper freedom of a moral agent. As the willing animal regulates his actions, can the moral agent, in like manner, determine and regulate his volitions ? It is not the question, does man act with a motive or ac- cording to the strongest, for that he does so will be found simply to state the fact, either that he is a voluntary or moral agent, according as the term motive is taken to signify the desire or the perception of an object ; nor is it the question, whether man wills as he pleases, for that is an unmeaning truism ; — but it is, can the thinking and intelligent being control and regulate his vo- litions, in the same manner as the willing animal regulates his muscular motions. To ascertain in what this power consists, in what manner and to what extent it is enjoyed, is the object of this Essay. It is plainly a subject of the first importance to moral science as well as to theology, and is still involved in great obscuri- ty and perplexity in the writings even of the most accurate divines and philosophers. The cause of the inexplicable confusion and endless contro- versy, has not been in the nature of the facts ; for these are perfectly plain and have been long DEDICATION. Xlll universally acknowledged ; but partly in the am- biguity of terms, and principally in the present derangement of our moral constitution. Man, the animal, remains true to his nature and acts uniformly, when free from compulsion and re- straint, according to his volition ; and hence the nature of animal or voluntary liberty has long been well understood : Man, the moral agent, has, in consequence of the fall, violated the law of his moral constitution, and hence the jarring and contradictory phenomena exhibited by the spirit, to use the language of the Apostle, war- ring against the flesh and the flesh against the spirit. It is thus, as will afterwards appear, that the Arminian defender of liberty has been fre- quently right in his general principle, but, over- looking the numerous exceptions to the gene- ral law, completely wrong in his practical con- clusions j while many a Calvinistic asserter of necessity has been totally mistaken with respect to the general principle, but right in the prac- tical conclusions, which depend not on the law itself but on the exceptions. If the account of liberty, in the following pages, is clearly esta- blished, the controversial ground between the parties will be much diminished ; for it must XIV DEDICATION. be confessed that the sarcastic remark of Leib- nitz is not without foundation, " lis cherchent ce qu'ils savent et ne savent pas ce quHls cher- chent*' It is not intended indeed to enter formally upon the religious bearings of the principles which shall be established, but in most cases, their application is so obvious and direct, that the reader who is at all acquainted with these subjects, will at once perceive the illustration to be derived. The consistency of the fore-ordina- tion and prescience of God with the righteous- ness of his moral government, the universality of moral responsibility, the nature of the faith which justifies the moral being, the strength as well as weakness and utter helplessness of fallen man, the necessity of the direct and powerful agency of the DivinS Spirit to effect his moral renovation, wdth a number of other important subjects, will derive much elucidation, l^y the investigation of this subject, indeed, we shall be enabled, on principles established by clear and ac- knowledged facts, as well as by the plain state- ments of the sacred Scriptures, to carry the torch of science along the dark and intricate history of man, from the time of his creation in the DEDICATION. XV image of God to the present moment, and ex- hibit, with a clear and steady light, at once the nature and responsibility of man as a moral agent, and the justice and mercy of the moral government of God. Within our own world, and during the history of the species, all is plain and satisfactory. It is only when we step with- out the limits of time, and beyond the range of history, and attempt, on the principles of phi- losophical necessity, to account for the origin of moral evil among the fallen spirits, that we are involved in mystery, and stumble on what may be well described, for such they have often proved — the dark mountains of vanity. Every one sees that we are here completely without the sphere of human knowledge ; and without his- tory and without facts, the intellect of an arch- angel could experience nothing but mystery and difficulty j or rather he would find no difficul- ty at all, for seeing that the object was beyond the sphere of knowledge, with that self-com- mand which becomes sound philosophy, he would be content to say with the French philo- sopher, in reference to the same subject, " Je n'en s^ais rienJ^ All the works of God which he does know, he finds right and good j and he XVI DEDICATION. would not doubt that those which he knows not are right also. Within the wide sphere of our own horizon, the sun shines, the mountains, the woods and the rivers sparkle in his beams, and prove the goodness of the Creator ; and there is no reason to doubt that in the regions to which our keenest optics cannot extend, the same sun illuminates other mountains, woods and rivers as clear and beautiful as our own. Such, Sir, is the general scope of the Essay. May I now state the method on which the in- vestigation has been conducted. On reading, several years ago, some of the best authors on both sides of the question, the opposite writers were found so contradictory, and withal seemed to contain so much truth and to urge so many plausible arguments in favour of their own views, that I felt persuaded, that a subject on which so much controversy prevailed, must not be well understood, and that it were vain to seek satis- factory information from the many books which had been written. I laid all authors aside, there- fore, and resolved to study the subject for my- self, by comparing the facts stated by moralists, historians and biographers, with the feelings of my own mind and the mental phenomena exhi- DEDICATION. XVU bited by others in the daily intercourse of life. As in Revelation, the only inquiry is, ** What read- est thou?" so here the sole question has been, What feelest thou ? What are the facts of conscious- ness ? In this manner, on the strictest principles of analysis and induction, were the conclusions stated in the Essay obtained. I then felt my- self prepared to examine the best books on the subject, and found, as I anticipated, that most writers present a mixture of truth and error, and no one whom I have seen gives a complete view of this interesting subject ; but that they have stated all the facts, and it might not be difficult, by a selection from the writings of two authors of the opposite parties, Locke and Reid, for example, to present a full account of the whole subject of liberty and necessity, both phy- sical and moral. Notliing new, therefore, in matter of fact, is to be expected; for, as D'Alem- bert has well observed, it were as absurd to claim originality in this respect, as to pretend to new doctrines in Revelation. The facts are those which daily occur, and are familiar to all ; and the sole object, therefore, has been to rescue them from the chaos in which they are found, and by arranging them according to their natural XVlll DEDICATION. relations, to exhibit a true account of voluntary and moral agency. It requires neither the powers of inventive genius to supply the mate- rials, nor the aid of imagination to construct theories ; for the materials are already prepared in the well known judgments, desires, and pur- poses of men, and are each fitted to its own place, like the stones for the temple of Solo- mon, which needed only to be arranged in their proper places, to form the structure* How far. Sir, I have succeeded in raising the building, others must determine ; but I know it is a glorious fabric ; for it presents a full view of the moral government of God during the his- tory of man, and rests upon a surer and more precious foundation than the gems on which stands the new Jerusalem — the justice, the ve- racity, and the mercy of the Eternal. If to this temple I have finished a corner, or raised the smallest column, I will neither consider my la- bour in vain, nor feel presumptuous in thus claiming your attention. But whether or not, Sir, I may have this satis- faction, I feel truly happy in having an opportunity of inscribing the Essay to you, as a small express sihat he knows to be wrong. — The process explained. — Tlie strength of desire, and hence the existence of volition depends on two causes, the strength of the susceptibility and the amount of the perceived good. — Some susceptibilities too strong; some too weak. — This is the ground of moral necessity. — Sentient association favours the stronger feeling. — Habit increases necessity. — Multitudes of moral beings completely enthralled ; and all in some de- gree. — Correct views of Luther and the reformers. Sect. V. — The means of being delivered from moral neces- sity, AND the universality OF M0R.\L RESPONSIBILITY, 152 An argument derived from real necessity against moral respon- sibility. — Man now furnished, however, with the means of being delivered from it. — The natural conscience can do some- thing to effect delivoi-ance. — A man possessing the know- ledge of Christianity can do more. — The power of the Divine Spirit alone can effect a man's complete deliverance. — Means of obtaining divine aid. — The analogy between faith and vo- lition. — UniversaUty of moral responsibility. — Absurdity of those who deny it. Sect. VI. — Of the Introduction of Moral Evil, 184 Mode of conducting the inquiry. — Our information clear and satisfactory to a certain point. No account of the origin of evil among the faUen spirits. — Nature of moral government. — Physical and moral will of God distinguished. — The account of the fall illustrated. — Satan introduces evil in direct oppo- sition to the moral will of the Deity. — Objections answered. God's permission of sin explained. — God being the author of evil by a secret purpose considered.* — God the author of ♦ Correct Vicwi of the Westminster Confession, Note G» XXiy CONTENTS. Page good only; Satan the original author of all evil in our world. — The ancient doctrine of a g-ood and evil principle practically correct. Sect. VII. — Review of Edwards, 221 His correct account of the sense in which the will is fixed ac- cording to the last dictate of the undei'standing. — His just views of the nature of the necessity which is opposed to li- berty. — He leaves this, and proceeds to establish moral cau- sation, or pliilosophical necessity. — He cannot establish moral obligation by his philosophy, and has recourse to Scripture. — His work not on liberty and necessity, but a refutation of prevalent errors, and most triumphant. Sect. VIII. — Review of Whitby, 248 He clearly establishes the general principle of freedom in his Discourse on Grace. — His definition of liberty a correct ac- count of the present state of man, though not of liberty. — Two sorts of indifference, sentient and intellectual, confound- ed. — His opponents admit his principle as generally true, but maintain the exceptions as matters of fact. — His Discourse, therefore, in reference to the controversial object he had in view, is a complete failure. — The direct practical conse- quences of his principle. — Work of the Holy Spirit. APPENDIX, 272 Note A. Brown and Edwards on Volition. — B. Association. E. Locke on Volition and Moral Necessity. — E. (p. 173) Faith. — F. Ground of Moral Obligation. — G. Predesti- nation. — H. Means of Grace. EIIRATA. Page 20, line 14 from top, for very read every 33, line 8 from top, for lixvs read law 50, line 1 1 from top, for inquire read inquires 97, line 9 from top, for — read : — — — 209, line 1 from top, for trust read truth 235, line 11 from bottom, for inconvenie7ice reziA ineonveniences ,— 250, line 7 from bottom, for philosopher read philosophers. intHoduction. NATURE OF CAUSATION. The subject of Causation is so intimately con- nected witii that of Liberty and Necessity, or rather the one subject is so directly the basis of the other, that it may not be amiss to pre- sent a short account of it, by way of introduction to the subsequent Essay. And as one can scarce- ly give any account of the relation of Cause and Effect without noticing the opinions of so dislilL- gjuished a \oiter as Dr. Brown, particularly as his arguments have not yet, so far as we have seen, been fairly and candidly met, we shall now offer some remarks on the theory which this ac- complished philosopher attempted to estabUsh. Of the dispute between Dr. Brown and Mr. Hume concerning the origin of the idea of power and causation we shall by and by be better able to form an opinion ; but before proceeding to the principal subject of inquiry, it may not be improper to determine the meaning of the terms « INTRODUCTION. power, property, or quality. " The words pro- perty and quality/' says Dr. Brown, ** admit of exactly the same definition, expressing only a certain relation of invariable antecedence and consequence in changes which take place in the presence of the substance to which they are ascribed. They are strictly synonymous with power : or, at least, the only difference is, that property and quality, as commonly used, com- prehend both the powers and susceptibilities of substances." * The terms power and property are, in vulgar language, frequently employed indiscriminately ; but they are strictly synonymous only so far as they express the same thing, in like manner as the king of Hanover and the king of Great Bri- tain at present mean the same person. The words refer to the same thing, but they express it in different relations ; and many affirmations therefore might be truly made respecting the one, which would be false regarding the other. The terms power and susceptibility express only, let it at present be admitted, a certain relation of invariable antecedence and consequence in changes that take place in the presence of the substance to which they are ascribed ; but it is not so with the words property and quality. A property or quality is something which is con- • Inquiry into the Relation of Cause and Effect, p. 18. CAUSATION. ceived to have a permanent existence in ite. sub- ject independently of our perception of it ; and which becomes a power when considered in re- lation to the effects which it produces in other substances. The same thing which is a power in relation to its effects, is a property or quaUty when considered as inherent in a substance, and entering into the constitution of its nature. The powers of the fire or the candle which warm and enlighten us, are properties when left to burn alone in an empty chamber and when considered by us merely as existing things without reference to their effects ; and become powers only when considered as the causes of the sensations of light and heat. All properties then, it is plain, are first known to us as powers, which again are, to a great extent, known to us only by their effects. Stretcliing out the hand towards a piece of matter, it resists our motion, and the power by which it does so, is termed solidity. We smell it, and it affects the olfactory nerves in a certain manner, and the power is named smell. We open our eyes upon it, and we experience the sensation of colour, and the power by which the sensation is produced is, for want of another term, called by the same name. When we consider these and all the other powers of matter as united in one subject, and existing whether we perceive them or not, we have then the idea of so many properties of body; 4 INTRODUCTION. and the various aggregates of properties with which we are acquainted constitute, to our con- ception, all the substances which are known to exist in nature. Dr. Brown is careful to guard us against the scholastic misapprehension, that powers and pro- perties are any thing distinct from the substances themselves to which they belong. " The pow- ers, properties, or qualities of a substance are not to be regarded as any thing superadded to the substance or distinct from it. They are only the substance itself, considered in relation to various changes which take place when it exists in pecu- liar circumstances. . . . There are not substances, therefore, and also powers and qualities, but sub- stances alone. We do not add greenness to the emerald, or yellowness to gold, or blueness to the sky, or darkness to the vapoury masses which occasionally overshadow it ; but the emerald, the gold, the sky, the clouds, affect our vision in a certain manner. They are antecedents of sen- sations which arise in us."* The cause of the strong tendency which is felt to consider properties as some way or other independent of their subjects, and an addition to the substances to which they belong, is apparent. Though no property can exist without a sub- stance in which it is inherent, substances can ex- • Ibid. p. 27. CAUSATION. O ist without many of their properties, and are sus- ceptible of increase and diminution in the num- ber of the powers by which they affect our senses. When, therefore, a substance, retaining all its former powers, receives new ones and produces new effects in us, it is plain that it has received a real addition ; for it is ever to be remembered, that we are utterly ignorant of the nature of sub- stances, except as things which affect us in a certain manner ; or, in the words of Dr. Brown, ** whatever definition we give of matter must al- ways be the enumeration of those properties or qualities which it exiiibits ; and if there were no powers, there would be truly nothing to define." This is undoubtedly true, at least with respect to our perceptions ; and, of course, we have no reason to believe it otherwise than as it appears to us. In maintaining however, in reference to the identity of properties with substances, that ** God, and the things which he has created, are every thing which truly exists in the universe, to which nothing can be added which is not itself a new substance,'* we are evidently going beyond the limits of human knowledge, and, in avoiding the mistake of the schoolmen, are in danger of fall- ing into an error equally unphilosophical. We know nothing of substances, and, according to Dr. Brown, nothing of powers and properties, but as the antecedents of certain consequents; b INTRODUCTION. and it were absurd, therefore, to inquire, what substances in their own nature are, or how they are endued with certain properties. Substances, we know, cannot exist, or to speak more cor- rectly, are never, in our experience, found to exist without a number of properties, in which, therefore, we conceive their nature consists ; but they do occasionally receive other properties, without any change in their essential attributes, and to our perception, obtain a real addition. We cannot say that they receive any additional substance, and though we may term them new substances if we choose, we cannot affirm that they have undergone any change which alters their nature, or destroys their identity, any more than a man who has lost an eye, or who has be- come a little more corpulent than usual, can be considered a different person. Were a sub- stance, destitute of the secondary qualities of taste and smell, to be endued with these proper- ties by the will of the Creator, we could not imagine that any new substance had been added, though certainly we should believe that it had received a real addition. What this addition is, we cannot determine, unless we should know the nature of secondary qualities, which, in the pre- sent state, are directly known to us only as powers, or the antecedents of certain sensations. We are in no danger of being misled, if we dis- tinctly understand that powers and properties CAUSATION. 7 can have no existence without a subject, though, as the powers and properties of substances, they have as real and permanent an existence as the substances themselves. A substance without powers is not less a contradiction than a property distinct from a substance. It is only by their powers that we know the existence of substances, and the existence of the one, therefore, is, to our conception, as real and permanent as the other. That a property is a property, and as such truly exists, is as true as that a substance is a substance ; and by denying the existence of the former, we necessarily deny the reahty of the latter, and are placed at once in the fantastic world of mere impressions and ideas. Holding then the existence of powers and properties as such, to be as real as that of substances, we now proceed to ascertain how far we understand the nature of power, or rather of powers ; for per- haps much of the obscurity in which this subject has been involved, has arisen from attempting to discover in individual substances an abstract ge- neral property, called power, which, of course, has nothing but an imaginary existence. The principle which Dr. Brown labours to es- tablish, and by which his theory of Cause and Effect is distinguished, is that causation is no- thing but an invariable sequence — a cause being a constant, uniform and invariable antecedent, and an effect the corresponding consequent. 8 INTRODUCTION. If, in maintaining this principle, this acute phi- losopher has made no real improvement in the mode of philosophizing, nor freed us, as he ima- gined, from another of the scholastic phantoms which still haunted the imagination, and disturb- ed the speculations of the philosophic inquirer, he has certainly more clearly than ever pointed out the true limits of human knowledge. There are a multitude of instances in which we perceive nothing more than uniform sequence. That one thing invariably follows another is known as a matter of fact, but how or why it is, our limited faculties, judging from the particular instance, cannot discover. Were all the cases of causation of this sort, as are all the examples which Dr. Brown has brought forward and examined in sup- port of his theory, the correctness of his account of Cause and Effect could not be called in ques- tion ; but we shall presently show, that there are multitudes of cases in which more is observed than mere antecedence, and hence that his theory, being a negative conclusion resting on a partial induction, falls at once to the ground. That an effect is a constant and invariable consequent, may be safely admitted as a conve- nient, if not a strictly logical definition, of effect in general. That a cause too is a constant and invariable antecedent is not to be denied, and so far Mr. Hume and Dr. Brown are correct in the statement of facts. But men will still ask, whe- CAUSATION. y ther Dr. Brown's philosophy admits of it or not, why such and such an antecedent is uniformly followed by such a consequent ? There are an- tecedents and consequents which have remained invariable during the whole period of our expe- rience, and which nevertheless we have never conceived to be related as cause and effect, and how does it happen that another antecedent not more uniform is deemed a cause and its conse- quent an effect ? We ask not what an effect is, for that is admitted to be an invariable conse- quent ; but what is it in the antecedent which se- cures the uniformity of the sequence ? Why is an antecedent followed by its own consequent and not by another ? What, in short, is the pro- perty, usually called power, which is conceived to render the uniformity of the sequence necessary and certain ? To answer this question as far and as satisfac- torily as possible, let us first examine some of the simplest and most obvious cases of cause and ef- fect, before proceeding to those which are more complex and abstruse. And let it be remem- bered, that any substance which comes into be- ing, or any change whatever which takes place in, substances which already exist, is an effect. The slightest change in the most accidental mode of any substance, is an effect as truly as the che- mical action of the solar rays in the process of vegetation, or as the creation of the sun itself 10 INTRODUCTION. It may be remarked too, that could we under- stand the nature of power in every case, it would be vain to expect such an identity or similarity as is found in the general properties of substances. The power of a man to move an arm, of the mag- net to attract iron, of aqua regia to dissolve gold, and of a glove to cover the hand, must be so essentially different, that to give any definition of it common to them all, it is necessary to de- scribe it in terms so general as state little more than the effect. To go systematically into the sub- ject, it would be necessary to divide power ge- nerally into various species, according to the na- ture of the subjects in which it is found, and then we could more distinctly perceive in which we know its nature fully, in which partially, and in which we are altogether ignorant of it and can affirm only the fact of uniform sequence, without being able to discover the power on which the sequence depends. But at present it is not the object to attempt any systematic and minute in- vestigation, but to offer some remarks on the sub- ject in general. To take examples in the mere modes of things, let us conceive that the filling up of a pit, by throwing yito it a quantity of earth, is the effect whose cause is to be examined. The presence of the earth in the pit is the immediate cause of its being filled up, and it is plain, that as the ab- sence of the earth from that place constituted the CAUSATION. 1 1 pit, its presence in the same place must neces- sarily produce the effect of fiUing it up again. It is not the earth, as possessed merely of solidity, which produces the effect, but the solid sub- stance, as existing in a certain place, that is the cause of this change of mode ; and there is there- fore not simply the fact, that the effect follows its cause, but from the adaptation of the cause to the effect, it necessarily must follow and cannot be otherwise. It is that adaptation which con- stitutes the power of the cause, and on which the uniformity of the sequence depends. So long as matter retains its present nature, a certain quantity of it, in a certain place, will necessarily produce the effect in question, and it were a contradic- tion to suppose it otherwise. The adaptation or power of the cause inevitably secures the inva- riable sequence of the effect, and must secure it, unless it were possible that things could be and not be at the same instant of time. If, again, we turn our attention to the work- men whose physical powers are employed in con- veying the matter to the spot where its presence is required, we still find a similar adaptation in the cause to produce the uniform sequence. We do not here consider how the perceptions of the under- standing produce volitions, or how volition gives rise to muscular motion ; but we consider mus- cular motion, not as an effect of volition, but as a cause, which in its turn produces effects in the 12 INTRODUCTION. external world. Muscular motion is that by which an animal acts against the law of gravitation and overcomes its force, and by which he is able, therefore, to change the place of matter, which retains its position only by the influence of this law. A man, then, exerting his muscular force in a certain manner, must produce a certain ef- fect ; and from the adaption of the cause, that is, the muscular force employed in a certain manner, it is as contradictory to suppose it otherwise as to imagine that matter should not fill a space equal to its bulk. The earth is not more adapted to fill the pit than is the physical force of the workmen, when directed in a cer- tain way, to convey the earth to the place where its presence produces the effect. The invariable sequence of both effects is the necessary and un- avoidable result of the adaptation of the cause ; and we cleaiiy perceive, that on this adaptation they depend and must constantly and uniformly follow, without an absolute contradiction. So it is with all the numerous variety of changes which human ingenuity and power daily produce. When a number of masons and la- bourers unite their physical force, and direct it in a certain manner in order to raise a wall, we clearly perceive not only that the effects will fol- low ; but from the fitness of the agents, that such and such must be tlie certain and inevitable re- sults. Their mechanical knowledge and com- CAUSATION. 15 bined muscular force render it impossible that the materials should not be removed from one place to another, elevated to the wall and laid in a certain order. The stones and mortar again placed in a certain situation necessarily constitute a wall. And if four walls of a certain height and length be placed at right angles, they ne- cessarily enclose a space ; and if again a roof of certain materials be, laid over all, a house is form- ed, which, by its very nature, excludes the wind afid rain. In this and similar series of causes and effects, the various antecedents are consti- tuted causes, not merely by the possession of what are styled their essential properties, but by the mode or circumstances in which they exist. Stones and mortar do not necessarily constitute a wall, nor do four walls necessarily enclose a space ; it is these materials only when placed in a certain situation that produce these effects. In all the changes which are effected in the mere modes of things, therefore, we do not regard the antecedents as causes on account of their essen- tial properties, for which we can give ho account; but taking it as a matter of fact that they possess such and such attributes, when viewed in cer- tain circumstances, they are intuitively perceiv- ed to be causes, which of necessity must pro- duce their proper results. The adaptation which constitutes them causes is obvious, and acknow- ledged previous to all experience A well made 14 INTRODUCTION. glove or boot is at once perceived to possess an adaptation to cover and protect the foot or the hand ; and it might be amusing to attempt to per- plex the unsophisticated understanding, by en- deavouring to convince a manufacturer of these articles, that they possessed no property calculat- ed to secure the invariable sequence of the effects for which they are designed. The most ignorant workman would ridicule the philosophy of both Mr. Hume and Dr. Brown, and prove himself better acquainted with the nature of causation than they both, were they to tell him that the foot and leg's being covered is the invariable consequent of a well-fitted boot, in certain cir- cumstances, namely, when put on ; but that the antecedent and consequent are all which we can perceive, and that we cannot discover why the one is followed by the other, nor give any rea- son why the boot is followed by its consequent, that is, why it covers the foot and leg. The in- dignant mechanic would soon explain to them in what consisted the power of the antecedent to secure its consequent, and his own power, more- over, to render the boot such an antecedent, he could tell them, consisted in his mechanical strength, which, when directed in a certain man- ner, was well adapted, and hence as necessarily and certainly produced the uniform consequent called a boot, as the invariable antecedent so called is, in certain circumstances, followed by CAUSATION. 15 its constant, uniform, and invariable consequent, namely, the leg and foot's being covered and protected from the inclemency of the weather. Let him give the antecedent a different shape or size, and he might still call it a large or a small boot, a well or an ill shaped one, but it could no longer be the invariable antecedent of the sup- posed effect. In all cases of this nature, then, we perceive an adaptation and fitness, or by whatever name we choose to call it according to the different subjects in which it is found, which is expressed generally by the term poweVy and which consti- tutes the substance a cause, and secures the uniformity of the sequence. Power, in such in- stances, is thus perfectly known, and hence we distinctly perceive not only that the effect follows as a matter of fact, but that it must follow and cannot but follow, without a contradiction as obvious as that two and two are not four. In the cases adduced, the whole mystery of causa- tion, therefore, if a thing so obvious should ever have been conceived mysterious, lies open to the understanding and the senses. From the very nature of the antecedent and consequent, we per- ceive as plainly, that, in certain circumstances, they are inseparably connected, as we see that a whole is equal to all its parts. That such and such causes, in instances similar to those produ- ced above, must necessarily produce such and 16 INTRODUCTION. such effects, is a truth which, in the human un- derstanding, rests upon the same foundation as the truth that such and such causes exist. The adaptation or power is perceived as a property inherent in the cause, and so long as the present order of the universe remains unchanged by Him who at first ordained it, the effect is perceived to be the necessary and inevitable result, and the uniformity of its sequence is fixed as a matter of course. The instances of causation in which we have a clear and adequate idea of power, form by far the majority of the cases of cause and effect which, in ordinary circumstances, come under our observation and attract our notice. All the adaptations of size, form, position, &c. which we behold in nature, and all the changes which men produce by their own power, or which are produced by power of a similar sort, belong to this class of causes. The labours of all the busy millions of our population, the mechanical arts, the manufactures, the agriculture, the building, the navigation, the wars, the commerce of the, country j all the numerous and mighty changes which by the power and industry of man trans- form the face of the world, are nothing but the combined results of changes which are effected in the mere accidents of things. The timber which composes the proudest navies, and the ma- terials which raise the most magnificent and CAUSATION. 17 splendid cities, have undergone no change but that of place and form ; and in all those innu- merable and stupendous monuments of human art, therefore, the nature of causation and power is perfectly understood. Here and there the agencies of nature, as in the chemical arts, are introduced, and more intimate changes are ef- fected in the nature of things, of the causes of which, as we shall just see, we must confess our ignorance ; but in all the grand and numberless effects of human power, our knowledge of that which constitutes a cause must be classed among the clearest and most adequate of our concep- tions. So far then our knowledge of power extends ; but if we advance a step farther and inquire into the causes of those changes which take place in the more essential properties of matter, our senses fail us, and we are left entirely in the dark re- specting the nature of the attributes which con- stitute any substance a cause. We cannot dis- cover how the volition acts upon the nerves and muscles and produces animal motion, how fire dissolves metal, nor why the magnet attracts iron. We know merely that lead, for instance, placed in a certain temperature, becomes hquid, or that iron, placed near a magnet, approaches to- wards it J and, with Dr. Brown, we may state the fact, by saying, that such a consequent invaria- bly foil ows such an antecedent, but nothing more. c 18 INTRODUCTION. To attempt to go beyond this exceeds our pre-'- sent means of perception, and, in so doing, we leave the conclusions of sound philosophy for the groundless conjectures of a misdirected ima- gination. In such cases we know power only by its effects, as we know the sensible qualities of matter, which are examples of powers whose natures are unknown. We do not, indeed, in such instances, deny that there are powers, for this were to deny the existence of the material world, and to recur to the theory of impressions and ideas as the sole entities, but we know that there are powers simply because their effects are felt by our sensations. Should we then, from these instances, con- clude with Dr. Brown, that power, as inherent in substances, is not some adaptation or fitness, in some respects similar to that which we disco- vered in the former class of cases, and which ren- ders the uniformity of the sequences necessary, and the supposition that they should be other- wise a contradiction ? By no means : this were in opposition to every principle of sound reason- ing. All that can legitimately be inferred from a negative induction or the want of facts, is not respecting the subjects which we examine, but our own knowledge, that, from our limited fa- culties, we possess no means of discovering the nature of the power in the particular instances. We are in a similar situation with the philosopher CAUSATION. 19 who is required to determine, with the naked eye, whether or not a certain body is a simple substance. Judging from his vision, he would say it seems so ; but he would recollect that his eye is not the proper instrument to determine the question, and until the substance be subject- ed to a chemical analysis, he would be content to acknowledge his ignorance. So it is with all the instances of causation which Dr. Brown ad- duces. Nothing can be inferred from them but our inability to perceive the nature of the power in the particular instance. But after, in other cases, it has been ascertained that a certain adaptation, called power, constitutes a cause, we are warranted to draw the universal conclusion, that every invariable sequence is the result of power, on the same principle that the chemist infers that all the substances of the same species are composed of certain elements, because such he has found to be the composition of some in- dividuals. This conclusion, as well as Dr. Brown's, rests upon a partial induction, but the material difference is, that his is founded on the want of facts, while the one at which we arrive is drawn from facts known and observed ; and is entitled, therefore, to be held universal, until facts of an opposite tendency are brought to dis- prove it. Though nothing were observed but mere sequence in every instance of causation ex- cept one, in which it was found that it de- 20 INTRODUCTION. pended on a certain adaptation or power of the antecedent, and could not take place without it j with this sohtary instance, we could at once overturn the linest theory, founded on any, all but universal, induction, in support of a negation, and estabhsh the opposite conclu- sion universally, till some fact were found, in like manner, to limit its extension. Power is as necessary to causation as the heart, or some sub- stitute for it, is for the circulation of the blood, and the maintenance of human life ; and as we conclude that all men possess that blood vessel, though we have seen but few bodies dissected, with the same certainty we conclude, that very cause possesses a power which of necessity se- cures the invariableness of the consequent, though we cannot in every case say what that power is, and present it to the eye, the taste, or the touch. We return then to the doctrine of the old school, or rather to the doctrine of the common understanding and universal belief of mankind, and on every principle of sound philosophy and right reason, maintain that a cause is a substance possessed of a certain adaptation, fitness or power, which necessarily secures the constant and inva- riable sequence of the effect. In certain cases, this power is perceived and known as an object of sense ; in others, it is discovered only by its effects. In the former we know it as a property CAUSATION. €1 inherent in the substance ; in the latter it is known only as a power, that is, sometliing which produces an effect. In the one class of cases, knowing the power, we can with perfect cer- tainty predict the effect prior to all experience; in the other, from our experience of the effect, we infer the existence of the power, and then we reason respecting the future sequences with the same accuracy and certainty as in the in- stances where the power is known as an object of perception. Hence, in either case, the prac- tical law of causation, both for the past and fu- ture, is fully understood, and we reason upon it with the same certainty as the astronomer ap- plies the law of gravitation to account for all the phenomena of the solar system. We are now prepared to perceive the ground on which rests our belief of the future uniformity of events, and to appreciate the merits of the dis- pute between Mr. Hume and Dr. Brown, res- pecting the source of this belief. Mr. Hume, though he denied the reality of power, could not deny the consciousness of the belief that a cause will be for the future, as it has been during the past, invariably followed by its effect. Without the existence of power, the only foundation on which this belief rests, he found great difficulty to account for the feeling in the mind of an in- telligent and rational being. As the most like- ly principle that could explain the phenome- SS INTRODUCTION. Hon, he had recourse to association, and main- tained that, having repeatedly experienced a se- quence of events, we are ultimately led to be- lieve, that things, for the future, will follow in the same train as, by experience we have known, they have done for the past. There is no doubt that, to a certain extent, this is the tendency of association, but, it is worthy of notice, that it is chiefly in minds of weak understanding, children, idiots, and the lower animals, to whom it seems to supply, in a great measure, the want of reason and foresight, that its influence is so considerable as to produce, in any considerable degiee, the effect which he ascribed to it. As the under- standing and reasoning powers acquire strength, it loses its influence, and leaves the belief to which Mr. Hume conceives it to give birth, whol- ly unaccounted for ; while, as a matter of fact, the feeling is proportionally strengthened and confirmed. Dr. Brown has accordingly most triumphantly refuted the fallacy of Mr. Hume, and demonstrated the necessity of accounting for the belief on some other principle. Dr. Brown himself, however, agreeing with Mr. Hume in rejecting the idea of power, was equally at a loss to account for the feeling. He had recourse to an expedient more specious per- haps, but not more philosophical and satisfactory, and maintained, that the belief itself is an intui- tive principle. In this attempt to explain the CAUSATION. 23 fact, we have, at least, one of the finest proofs how much the most acute and powerful understand- ings may be misled by the influence of feeling, when excited by party interests, or the desire to support a favourite theory. There is here quite a contrast to the usual accuracy and penetration exhibited by the analytical investigations of this distinguished metaphysician. Unfortunately the belief in question is totally destitute of all the marks by which intuitive principles are usually distinguished, as every one in the least acquaint- ed with the subject will readily perceive. His ex- posure of Hume's mistake, indeed, is a sufficient refutation of his own principle. Ten thousand instances of regular sequence, it is admitted, could never entitle a rational mind to infer the uniformity of sequence for the future from the experience of the past ; and it would be strange if the same mind, on the experience of only one instance, could intuitively perceive such a uni- formity, in a case where mere uniformity of se- quence is all that is to be known. Intuitive prin- ciples or axioms are usually inexplicable by rea- son, as being themselves the most obvious of all truths, and the foundation on which all reason- ings proceed, but they can never surely be at variance with its clearest dictates. If regular se- quence really constitute the whole of causation, and if, by an intuitive principle without the aid of experience, we be able to infer its future uni- 24 INTRODUCTION. formity, the most casual events coming together must be considered, till experience correct the mistake, in the relation of cause and effect. The attempt to obviate the difficulty, by alleging our knowledge of co-existing series, is perfectly fu- tile. It is undoubtedly admitted, that in ordi- nary cases, " every one knows sufficiently the distinction of what is casual only and what is in- variable in the order of nature ;"* but this is nothing but a begging of the question. How do we make the distinction ? Is it by the observation of the mere sequence ; or is it by perceiving some property, adaptation, or congruity in the antecedent which points it out as a cause ? Every one knows that it is; and Dr. Brown is compelled to admit, that to his imaginary intuitive principle another really intuitive principle, or, which is equivalent, the universal, or, as he expresses it, the almost universal belief and experience of man- kind is directly opposed. There is indeed an intuitive principle involv- ed in that which Dr. Brown believed such, and by which, perhaps, he has been in part misled. It is, that a nonentity cannot produce an entity or substance, nor effect any change in substances which already exist — e nihilo nihil fity nothing pro- duces nothing, if we may be allowed to consider the old maxim as regarding not the materials of • Lecture VI. CAUSATION. which a tiling is made, but the cause per sense of the word. This principle is certain- ly self-evident, and contains the whole idea of causation, except the uniformity of sequence. That something produces something is all that is required to identify this axiom, and it might be clearly demonstrated, that there is no contra- diction in conceiving that a cause may produce its effects without any regularity, as the great First Cause, for instance, is conceived to produce all possible effects without any principle of unifor- mity but his sovereign pleasure. In this, it might be shown, were it the proper place, consists the mistake of the fatalist, going beyond this funda- mental axiom of causation and applying the law of causation, which is found to prevail in our world, as the law of causation universally. The law of causation under which we live we can trace back only to the creation, when, for ought we know, it was established for the first time, when God said, " Let the earth bring forth the living creature after his kind, cattle, and creeping thing, and beast of the earth after his kind ; and it was so ;" but how far it extends over the universe, and especially among intelligent and moral agents, it is not for us to determine. On this principle, then, depends our know- ledge of the external world, and indeed of every thing except sensations and ideas, which are ob- jects of consciousness. Whenever we experience 26 INTRODUCTION. a sensation from without, we immediately refer it to an external substance as its cause. It seems indeed, connected with sensation generally, and in infants and brutes operates instinctively like many of our other principles. The bee, for ex- ample, in providing for the approach of winter, and the bird in preparing accommodation for its young, do by instinct what men perform by rea- son and foresight. The infant, a few weeks after birth, and many animals apparently with ahnost their first sensations, have the knowledge of an external world, and are thus correctly making the practical application of the maxim, e nihilo nihil fit^ which is acted upon as a practical prin- ciple long before it is formally recognised by the understanding and received with all the pomp of the schools. There is another principle, that of association, namely, which at an equally early period, per- haps much earlier and as soon as the mind has got one idea to follow another, comes into action and begins to co-operate with the one just men- tioned. When the infant observer has once no- ticed one thing followed by another, association comes seasonably to his aid, and when he again beholds the antecedent, the idea of the conse- quent is instantly suggested. Thus at a very early period of childhood, long before the little adventurer is able to leave the arms of his nurse, provision is made both for his safety CAUSATION. 27 and for the improvement of his understanding, by the observation of power and causation. When he has once experienced the consequences of touching the flame of the candle, the sight of the candle, on the principle of association, serves all the practical purposes of the knowledge of causation and the necessary effects of fire on the human frame. Without knowing on what cau- sation depends, he connects cause and effect as constant antecedent and consequent ; and thus, by having the subjects before him, he has an op- portunity, as soon as the powers of the under- standing begin to unfold themselves, of discover- ing the adaptation which constitutes the power of a cause. By and by the young philosopher begins to in- quire the reasons of things, and discovering the adaptation or power of one thing to produce ano- ther, to perceive that the sequences which his experience has found uniform, must of necessity have been so, and from the very nature and known properties of the antecedents could not be otherwise. In the progress of his knowledge, he frequently discovers that what he has been wont to consider as cause and effect, have only casually come together. Such discoveries tend to dehver him from the undue influence of association, so powerful in childhood, and quicken his observa- tion of the indications of the powers which secure the permanent and uniform sequence. In in- 28 INTRODUCTION. Stances of cotemporary sequences, he is sometimes a little at a loss to ascertain to which cause each effect is to be attributed ; but in most of those cases, even when the power itself cannot be ob- served, there is an aptness and congruity between the real cause and effect which usually secures him from mistake. Previous to all experience, a piece of coal, timber, or any combustible matter might be considered as likely to produce a certain chemical action on gunpowder as a spark of fire ; but on throwing a lighted match among a quantity of it, and beholding the smoke and flame produced by the deflagration, the most inexperienced inquirer into the nature of causation would never doubt that the fire, and not the matter of which the match was composed, was the cause of the explo- sion. It is generally so in all ordinary instances of cause and effect. Though the powers in the particu- lar cases are unknown, there are certain congrui- ties and indications of the power, which, with little difficulty, enable the observer to ascribe each ef. feet to its proper cause. Thus the inquirer gra- dually and correctly extends his induction, and it is not long till he draws the universal conclusion, that wherever there is uniform sequence, there is a power in the antecedent to produce the conse- quent and to render irregularity impossible. This, then, being, as we conceive, the manner in which mankind obtain their idea of causation, it appears that Mr. Hume's account of the origin CAUSATION. 99 of the belief of invariable sequence is not so far from the truth as Dr. Brown seemed to imagine. Though there is an instinctive and intuitive prin- ciple on which the conception ultimately rests, the belief of constant and uniform sequence, as a whole, is got from experience; and association, at first, exerts a powerful influence in its acquire- ments. On the intuitive principle above noticed, we refer an effect to something as its cause ; by experience and association we primarily learn the uniformity of the sequence; and, as the powers of the understanding are developed, we discover the adaptation or power on which the uniformity of sequence depends. Mr. Hume was misled by his desire to support his favourite doctrine of the sole existence of impressions and ideas, but here as in many other places, he proves himself the original thinker and acute observer ; and even in maintaining monstrous absurdity and falsehood, exhibits much sound philosophy, and makes im- portant additions to true science. As soon, then, as a human being has got the true idea of power and causation, he is prepared to act his part in life, as the philosopher, the agriculturist, the merchant, or the statesman ; and to attain an end or produce an effect, by the use of a series of proper means. Certain causes, he knows, must produce such and such effects, and if he employ the proper means, he cannot fail of obtaining his object. This belief so INTRODUCTION. of the future uniform sequence of things, rests upon the same foundation as his beUef of their existence ; for both are obtained by the percep- tion of properties, and so long therefore as things are perceived to exist, they must also be perceiv- ed to possess the powers on which causation de- pends. The sequence has been constant and uni- form since the creation of the world, unless when interrupted by the power of the Creator; and must necessarily remain constant and invariable till the present order of things be changed, when the mighty angel shall stand upon the earth and up- on the sea, and lifting up his hand to heaven, shall swear by Him that liveth for ever and ever, that time shall be no longer. OF AGENCY. The most general division of substances, on the principle of cause and effect, is into Creator and creature — the eternal and almighty Creator on the one hand being the sole universal cause, and on the other, all other substances besides being the effects of his power. Created substances themselves, again, by the appointment of the Creator, stand related to each other as cause and effect. From the lowest link in the chain of created being to the highest, all substances are known to us as causes ; and the AGENCY. 31 higher we ascend, their causation assumes a more important character, till, among the higher class- es of beings which inhabit this earth, it may be considered as a sort of creation in some respects analogous to that of the Deity. Inert and inan- imate matter produces changes on substances which already exist ; vegetables have the power of producing fruits and seeds, from which spring other organised bodies possessed of vegetable life ; animals give birth to living and sen- tient beings Hke themselves, among whom man, in a higher degree, resembles the Creator, in bringing into existence a race of beings whose future life shall be commensurate with eternity, and who, therefore, in some sense, may be con- sidered new substances. In this process of ge- neration, there is something analogous to crea- tion ; in all other instances of causation, there is nothing effected but changes in substances which have already existence. All the causes which compose the world in which we live may be divided into four great classes : — inanimate matter, vegetables, irrational animals, and moral beings. Among these a most regular and beautiful gradation subsists, and all the higher or more specific classes possess the natures of the lower or more general, with the addition of the specific nature by which they are distinguished. Vegetables, in addition to their vegetable life, have all the essential attributes of 3^ INTRODUCTION. matter. Animals, besides the sentient and vo- luntary powers by which they are distinguished, retain all the attributes of inert and vegetable substances ; for animal life, as it is called, apart from sensation, is nothing essentially different from mere vegetation. And man, at the head of the scale, to the essential powers of the mere- ly material and vegetative substances and of the sentient and voluntary animal, adds an intelligent mind, capable of perceiving moral distinctions ; and, hence, is constituted a rational and moral being. Of these four great species of causes, the two last, namely, the voluntary and the moral, are usually distinguished by the name of agents, and their effects called actions. The same name is occasionally applied to other causes, when we talk, for instance, of the agencies of nature, che- mical agents, chemical actions, &c. ; but in these cases the terms are employed in a figurative and technical sense ; and in the present Essay we restrain them to their common and proper accep- tation. Cause and effect are thus the genus of which agents and actions are the species — agents being voluntary and moral causes and actions their effects. In every division of this sort, if correct, the species, as logicians inform us, must possess all the essential attributes of the genus, together with the properties peculiar to itself j and all, AGENCY. 93 therefore, which is true of cause and effect ge- nerally, must be true of agent and action, be- sides what may be affirmed respecting them in particular. But as this is occasionally denied and frequently not well understood, even by mo- dern writers ; let us now proced to ascertain, by a brief examination of the nature of agency, how far the laws of causation extends among sentient and moral beings. To preserve us from mistake respecting this subject, and to guard us against the absurd dog- mas of fatalism, a preliminary observation is ne- cessary. Since every cause invariably and ne- cessarily produces its effect, the fatalist infers that, therefore, events cannot be otherwise than they are, and hence denies the foundation of all moral obligation. This conclusion proceeds up- on a misconception of the true nature of causa- tion. Every event in our world has a cause, and every cause necessarily and infallibly produces its effect ; but in making tliis affirmation, it is al- ways understood that such is the case, when the cause is allowed to operate; but it is never meant that there is any cause, except, indeed, the Almighty First Cause, whose power may not be resisted and overcome by a cause more power- ful. A great majority of the instances of cau- sation are examples of one cause being resisted and frustrated by another. There is no cause more powerful or infallible in its effects than the 84 INTRODUCTION. principle of gravitation, and, nevertheless, ani- mal agency consists in an ability to resist this law ; and all the stupendous works of human ingenuity and power are nothing but monuments of the extensive and successful inroads which man has made upon its empire. There is, there- fore, nothing in the universe, except facts which have already taken place, which is fixed and immutable in the sense of the fatalist. Many of the actions of man should be otherwise, as none presumes to deny, and all of them may and could be otherwise, on the principle of causation. To maintain then, in any instance, the doctrine of fatalism, is virtually to assert, that there exists no cause more powerful than the one in question, and hence, to deny the existence of a great por- tion of the universe. As we pass along the mighty chain of causes, we cannot stop at any link and say, that here is a cause whose effects cannot be otherwise than they are, until we come to the end of the chain — to Him who is the first and the last, the beginning and the end. His ac- tions indeed are irresistible by his creatures, and cannot be otherwise than they really are; but here is the great security against the absurd and per- nicious dogmas of fatalism, that Jehovah, the sole first cause, is a being infinitely wise, bene- volent, and merciful, whose actions are all right, and just what they should be. That such a being reigns supreme in the universe and does AGENCY. ^ 3»5 according to his will in the armies of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth, is the grand source, or, at least, should be the grand and the only source of security and happiness to all intelligent and moral beings. If, in a free state, the humblest peasant, conscious of inte- grity, finds it his happiness to look with confi- dence to the equal laws of his country, and bid defiance to the proudest and most powerful seigneur who would dare to oppress him ; how much greater the felicity under the government of a being infinitely just to render to every man according to his works, almighty in power to protect the injured and redress their wrongs, unbounded in benevolence to secure their hap- piness, and in whose inconceivable mercy, as God manifest in flesh, even the guilty may find a refuge. Well might the enlightened and pa- triotic king of Israel exclaim, in the rapturous moment of inspiration, Jehovah reigneth, let the earth rejoice. There are two species of agency, then, volun- tary and moral, whose nature it is proposed to examine. In animal or voluntary agency, the will of the agent or, to speak more correctly, the agent willing is the cause, and the consequent muscular motions of his body are the effects. In moral agency, the volitions are the effects, and his perceptions or, in other words, the agent perceiving and understanding is the cause. In 56 INTRODUCTION. the one case, the agent regulates his actions by his volitions ; in the other, he regulates his voli- tions by the perceptions of his understanding. Thus, in the one, the effects are visible without j in the other, wholly within. In all instances of both these sorts of causation, we merely know, it may be noticed, the matter of fact, that the antecedent is followed by its consequent ; but cannot perceive the power which constitutes the cause. We are conscious merely that a certain perception excites a cer- tain volition ; and, again, that that volition is fol- lowed by a certain action, but of nothing more. We cannot explain how or why the sequence takes place ; for we are conscious only of the matter of fact, that it actually does take place. In this, then, as in a multitude of other cases, we directly perceive nothing more than the se- quence, but knowing, by the general conclusion at which we formerly arrived, the stability of the principle on which it depends, this very limited knowledge is perfectly adequate to all practical purposes. That which peculiarly constitutes a being an animal or voluntary agent, it is plain, is the pos- session of a sentient nature, or the susceptibilities of pleasurable and painful feelings. These feel- ings necessarily imply desire ; for it were a con- tradiction to conceive that a feeling is painful, and that for its own sake we do not desire to be AGENCY. 57 delivered from it ; or that we do not enjoy a pleasurable feeling when present, and desire to recover it when lost. This is the general law of a sentient being, for we do not at present talk of particulars. All the feelings which have refer- ence to the future give birth to desire, or rather, in many instances, they are desire itself. Now, it will be afterwards shown that volition is a com- plex state of mind resulting from the desire, or in instances of opposing feelings, the predomi- nant desire of an object, and the belief that the performance or attainment of the object is in our own power. If we conceive the object to be some action of our own, which at present may be conveniently done, and which indeed always is so, as the immediate effect, volition is simply the predominant desire to act in a certain man- ner. And tlms it appears that volition is the direct result of the feelings of pleasure and pain by which a sentient nature is distinguished. Volition, then, as is universally admitted, is the great and only source of action in a merely voluntary agent. When free from all compul- sion and restraint, he uniformly does what he wills. Volition or the agent willing is the an- tecedent, and the action is the consequent, as invariably and uniformly as a stone, when left in free space, falls to the ground by the power of gravitation. In this respect, therefore, there is no difference between voluntary agency and cau- 58 INTRODUCTION. satioii generally. The same uniform and invari- able sequence is found in both. The specific difference which a voluntary agent exhibits depends of course upon his sentient na- ture, by which he is distinguished from the in- sensible vegetable. The vegetable as well as the animal has the power of motion in opposition to the law of gravitation ; voluntary motion, in con- sequence of his sentient nature, is peculiar to the latter. That which renders any object or action pleasurable is its being addressed to some susceptibihty of feeling or desire; and that, there- fore, which is calculated to gratify the predomi- nant desire, must necessarily be the most agree- able. Music is agreeable, because it is calculat- ed to affect the susceptibility of hearing in a cer- tain manner ; food, because it allays the appetite of hunger; the prosperity of friends, because it gratifies the feeHng of benevolence; and the stronger, therefore, those feelings are, the great- er becomes the pleasure. Hence, it is plain, since volition coincides with the strongest desire, that the agent, in acting upon his volition, secures to himself the greatest possible amount of present enjoyment. We do not at present take into ac- count the future consequences of action ; for we are considering the agent not as an intelligent and moral, but simply as a voluntary agent, all whose actions, of course, regard only the present. The AGENCY. 39 general amount of his happiness must depend up- on his circumstances ; and were they such as we conceive man and all sentient beings to have been placed previous to the fall, perfect happi- ness without any alloy of pain, would have been the inevitable result of the general law of his vo- luntary nature. Now that he is placed in a less favourable situation, as a mere sentient being, he still makes the best of his condition in securing the largest possible amount of immediate plea- sure. Every action is, at the time, the most agree- able ; and were it possible to deviate from the law of his voluntary agency, it were not possible to act in any way so conducive to the enjoyment of the moment Remorse, misery and ruin may be the result ; but the agent for the moment makes the best of his circumstances, and enjoys all the present happiness of which he is capable. Hence then by uniting this consideration with the general law of causation, we have the idea of voluntary agency. An animal or voluntary agent uniformly acts according to his will, and in so doing, secures to himself the greatest amount of present enjoyment. The next species of agency which is to be con- sidered, is that in which volition is regarded as an effect, and not as a cause ; and hence styled moral agency. The percipient or intelligent b«ing, as was formerly said, is the cause, and his volition the effect. And here, therefore, as 40 INTRODUCTION. to the former case, we have to ascertain the uni- versal prevalence of the law of causation, and then to discover the property peculiar to man as a moral agent. As this forms the leading sub- ject of the Essay, our remarks shall be brief, leav- ing what may require further confirmation and illustration to be afterwards more fully examin- ed. The perception of external objects, in gene- ral, accompanies a sentient nature ; and, in man, desire and volition always imply the perception or conception of an object. * There are a few exceptions, indeed, as in the first desires of in- fants, animals possessed of only one sense, &c. ; but as these do not affect the general character of agency, they are not to be noticed in the pre- sent inquiry. In general, there can be no de- sire without the knowledge of something desired, and no volition without an object. To a man distressed with hunger, the conception of food, as the means of his relief, determines him to par- take of it J to a compassionate man, the percep- tion of misery awakens a desire to remove it ; and to the covetous man, the idea of his neigh- bour's wealth excites in his breast a strong de- sire of possessing it. The knowledge and con- ception of the object, in all such cases, is usually called a motive ; and, it is plain, it derives its power from its being addressed to the suscepti- bility or feeling of which it is the object. From % AGENCY. 41 its adaptation to its proper susceptibility, such a perception at once excites a corresponding feeling, and, by this means, gives rise to volition. Hence, it is admitted on all hands, that man ne- ver wills nor acts without a motive, and it were inconsistent with his percipient nature to con- ceive that he should. He might, indeed, be pain- ed, for instance, by some internal sensation, and as a sentient being, no doubt, might desire to be delivered from it, without any conception as the cause of the feeling ; but he could not form any volition or purpose to remove it, till he had some idea of what he believed Hkely to prove a remedy. So far then, there is no difference of opinion, that, in every instance, volition is pro- duced by the perception of an object or a mo- tive. The sequence is universally allowed, though whether the sequence is uniform and constant, is sometimes called in question. ^ It cannot be maintained, it is obvious, that the same motive uniformly produces the same vohtion ; for that is manifestly untrue, and is not consistent with the law of causation. The same cause produces \ery different effects, in consequence of a change of circumstances ; and all that is affirmed, therefore, by a certain class of writers, is, that the same motive, in the same circumstances, invariably produces the same vo- lition. This undoubtedly must be admitted, if it is considered what the circumstances are. The 4i2 INTRODUCTION. principal circumstance is the strength of the sus- ceptibility to which the motive is addressed, and as a mental susceptibility can be known and its strength estimated only by the feeling which is produced, if the desire arising from it is not of the same intensity, it is immediately inferred that the motive is not in the same circumstances in the cases compared. Another circumstance, which, indeed, is virtually implied in the one just mentioned, is the co-existence of feelings of a like or opposite tendency j and if these are found in greater number or in greater degrees of strength in the one case than in the other, it is concluded, again, that the motive is acting in dif-. ferent circumstances, and cannot produce the same result. Hence, when the desire produced by the motive is the same, and all the co-temporary desires the same, the volition must necessarily be the same, unless we conceive the contradiction of a thing being and not being simultaneously. The circumstances, in short, are such that they can be estimated only by the effects ; and unless therefore the results are exactly alike in all in- stances of like motives, it is concluded that the circumstances are also different ; hence it must be admitted, or, at least, it cannot be disproved, that the same motive, in the same circumstances, uniformly and invariably produces the same vo- lition. Such, accordingly, is the conclusion at which the experience and common understanding AGENCY. 43 of mankind arrive. Were a benevolent man to behold a friend in the same circumstances of dis- tress as one whom he formerly relieved, it would be universally inferred that, all considerations be- ing exactly alike, he would act now as he acted before. Were his disti'essed friend as much be- loved, equally deserving of his sympathy, his own ability to relieve him equal, his compassion for him acknowledged the same, no new motive checking his generous purpose, in short, all the circumstances exactly similar, it would be con* ceived impossible that he should not act the same part ; and were he to act differently, all mankind would believe that surely his affection was not so wiirm, his ability less, or he had some new motive for acting as he did, and could not conceive it possible that a man, placed in the same circum- stances, acted so different a part. The reasoning of vulgar experience is perfectly correct ; for, in this instance, there is no means of judging of the circumstances, as was just said, but by the effects. In moral agency, therefore, as well as in volun- tary, the general law of causation universally prevails — the antecedent, in similar circumstan- ces, is invariably followed by the same conse- quent. The peculiar property of the moral agent is the next to be ascertained ; and as the law of causation which here prevails consists in the fact, that the agent acts uniformly from mo- 4f^ INTRODUCTION. tives, we have just to ascertain the pecuUar mo- tives of the moral agent. Percipient as well as sentient powers are com- mon to man with the inferior animals ; and if by inteUigence is meant that perception of relations which Dr. Brown terms relative suggestion, this also, in some measure, seems common to the brutes. The difference, in this respect, is, that man possesses intelligence in a much higher degree, and, in addition to those perceptions which are common, perceives many relations with which the lower animals are totally un- acquainted, and by which therefore he is dis- tinguished from them. The chief of these is the perception of that relation or quality of actions expressed by the terms virtuous and vi- tious, right and wrong, which includes the rela- tions in which man, as a moral being, stands to his Creator. It is the perception of this class of relations which constitutes man a moral and re- sponsible agent ; and it is here therefore that we must look for the motives peculiar to the moral agency of man. As the perception of an object addressed to his appetites and other susceptibili- ties is the motive which determines the will of the brute, so the perception of right and wrong is the motive by which the moral agent regulates his volitions. He resolves to do one thing because it is right, and to refrain from doing another be- cause it is wrong. The possession of this species 4 AGESCY. 45 of motives is the distinguishing property of moral agency, in which consists the resemblance of man to his Creator ; and in other respects, he is to be considered only as the head of the animal crea- tion, far above them indeed in point of perci- pient and intellectual power, but still one of the same class of creatures, not less than as a sentient being he confessedly shares a common nature. If, however, we be disposed to comprehend in our account of human agency some other of the perceptions by which he is distinguished from the brutes, we may consider him as a provident be- ing, capable of perceiving the relation of present, past and future, and of estimating the advan- tages or disadvantages of present conduct in re- ference to his future life or to the whole eternity of his existence. There are besides a number of other perceptions by which he differs from the brute ; and if, in this outline, we express them generally as tlie perception of what is proper and becoming in the various circumstances in which he is required to act, we may describe a moral agent as a being who has the power of regulating his volitions as he judges morally right, advanta- geous, or proper. The perceptions of these rela- tions are what are usually included under the general term, the understanding, and we may therefore more briefly express the same idea, by saying, according to the old principle of philo- sophers, that man is able to regulate his volitions 46 INTRODUCTION. by the dictates of his understanding, always in- cluding under that general term the perception of the important relation of right and wrong as the principal idea.* Such, then, is the peculiar character of moral agency ; and the analogy, it deserves notice, be- tween this and voluntary agency is complete. The same volition, in the same circumstances, that is, the agent willing the same thing is uniformly the cause of the same action 5 and the same percep- tion, that is, the agent perceiving the same thing, in the same circumstances, is as uniformly the cause of the same volition. In both the law of causation universally prevails. The property by which animal or voluntary agency is distinguish- ed from the lower species of causation in vege- tables, is that, in all his actions, the voluntary agent secures to himself the greatest present * Drs. Reid, Price and other philosophers, who hold that " the moral faculty or conscience is both an active and intellectual power," are certainly in the right. No other hypothesis is consistent with the phenomena. Like many of the other faculties, it consists of a perception accompanied by its appropriate feeling. The same un- derstanding which perceives mathematical truths is employed in moral subjects ; and by the constitution of our nature, the percep- tion of moral truths awakens the solemn feelings of approbation and remorse. Hence the conscience may be improved or perverted in two ways. Like the judgment on other subjects, it may be well informed or misled, and therefore we talk of an enlightened or un- enlightened conscience, or the feeling may be vigorous or languid, and hence the expression a seared or awakened conscience. The intellectual part only of the faculty of conscience is included under the general terra, understanding. AGENCY. 47 amount of sentient happiness: the property, in Hke manner, by which moral agency is dis- tinguished from voluntary, the species of causa- tion immediately below it, is the abihty to de- termine his volitions by the dictates of his un- derstanding. We do not affirm that he always does so ; for this question shall afterwards be examined ; but it is plain tliat so long as he dis- charges his duty and retains his' innocence, he cannot act otherwise. If, in any instances he resolve to act without the approbation of his un- derstanding, in doing what he considers not most advantageous upon the whole, or what he be- lieves morally wrong, he is self convicted of hav- ing acted a foolish and criminal part. So long as he maintains the dignity of his moral cha- racter, by holding fast his integrity, he neces- sarily controls and regulates his will by the dic- tates of his understanding, and does what he judges morally right. These two agencies then, voluntary and moral, are both united in man. As a voluntary agent, when free from compulsion and restraint, he uni- formly acts upon his volition, since here there are no exceptions ; for, though his moral nature is depraved and exhibits sad aberrations from the original principle of his constitution, man, the ani- mal, remains true to the law of his sentient na- ture. As a moral agent, on the other hand, when acting his proper part, he uniformly fixes 48 INTRODUCTION. his volitions according to the perceptions of his understanding, and wills to act as he judges right. Hence, as man, the animal, by acting upon his volition, invariably obtains the greatest possible amount of present enjoyment; so man, the moral agent, acting upon the law of his mo- ral constitution, and doing what is right, inevit- ably secures to himself, under the righteous go- vernment of the Almighty, the eternal felicity which his immortality fits him to enjoy. As the author of such a nature, the character of God is strikingly illustrated. In the creation of the inani- mate and vegetable w^orlds, his power and wis- dom are manifestly displayed ; in the creation of the numerous tribes of voluntary agents, his be- nevolence appears ; but in the creation of man, h!s infinite wisdom, his boundless benevolence and moral holiness are at once strikingly ex- hibited. This cursory view of agency, in general, may serve to facilitate the subsequent inquiries, and to preserve us from some of the misconceptions frequently entertained on the subject of liberty. For it is plain, before any question can be insti- tuted respecting the liberty or necessity of an agent, his existence must be first admitted ; and it is equally plain, that to discover the liberty or necessity of which he is the subject, his peculiar agency must also be ascertained. What may be liberty to one agent may be necessity, or, pro- AGENCY. 49 bably, no possible state of another whose agency is of a different character ; and without this pre- liminary knowledge therefore, the inquirer will be in danger of committing as absurd and egre- gious a mistake as were a chemist, conibunding a number of acid and alkaline substances, to rea- son from one as if it were another. Hence most of the misconceptions and inconsistences with which writers on free-will are so frequently chargeable. Not to mention fatalism on the one hand and contingency on the other, which both virtually deny the reality of causation and hence the existence of the universe ; more judicious au- thors not unfrequently exhibit strange inaccuracy of conception. One able divine and no contemp- tible metaphysician describes man as 2ifree neces^ sary agent. If, by Jree, he means, as he does, that man acts as he chooses or according to his volition ; and if, by necessary, he means, as he also does, that he must act in a certain manner on the principle of causation and cannot act otherwise ; the epithets are exactly of the same import, and are both necessarily implied, if words liave any meaning, in the term agent ; and it would not therefore be more absurd to describe a certain well known fluid by calling it liquid fluid water. If a voluntary agent is free because he does as he wills, he is necessary for the very same reason ; for so long as he is free, he cannot do otherwise than invariably act upon 50 INTRODUCTION. his volition. To free us from all such miscon- ceptions, let us have an agent before us as the subject of inquiry. As the chemist takes for granted the existence of the substance whose elements he proposes to discover, and the anato- mist that of the body which he proceeds to dis- sect j so must the inquirer into the nature of li- berty admit, as an indispensable preliminary, that man is really the sort of agent which he is. The anatomist does not question the reality, but inquire the manner of the existence of the hu- man body — ^how the various parts are situated, mutually related and co-operate in the functions of animal life. So must the moral inquirer in- vestigate only the condition of the agent whose existence he has already assumed ; and whether he is found free or necessary, he must not deny that he really exists ; for he would then deprive himself of a subject, and be placed in the same ridiculous situation as were a chemist gravely to propose to discover the elements of non-entity, by subjecting it to a process of analysis. AN ESSAY MORAL FREEDOM. SECTION I. NATURE OF FIIEEDOM AND STATEMENT OF THE QUESTION. In every question respecting free agency, it must be taken for granted, it is plain, as the basis of the inquiry, that the agent whose liberty or ne- cessity is to be ascertained actually exists. Holding then, as a matter of fact, that man is a being capable of judging, wilUng and acting, we now proceed to inquire what is the nature of the liberty which such an agent is capable of en- joying. Mr. Hume, in treating the subject of liberty and necessity, proposes a very strange method of conducting his inquiries. " It would seem," says he, " that men begin at the wrong end of the question concerning liberty and necessity, when they enter upon it by examining the fa- culties of the soul, the influence of the under- 52 NATURE OF FREEDOM. standing and the operations of the will. Let them first discuss a more simple question, name- ly, the operations of body and of brute unintel- ligent matter, and try whether they can there form any idea of causation and necessity except that of a constant conjunction of objects, and a subsequent inference of the mind from one to 'the other. If these circumstances form in reali- ty the whole of that necessity which we can con- ceive in matter, and if these circumstances be al- so universally acknowledged to take place in mind, the dispute is at an end, or, at least, must be owned to be henceforth merely verbal." It is one of the most obvious principles of sound reasoning and of the true method of phi- losophizing, that the peculiar properties of the species are not to be discovered by examining the attributes of the genus. Before Mr. Hume therefore can be permitted to extend his induc- tion so widely in support of his doctrine of ne- cessity, it is necessary to ascertain, whether the specific properties of man, as a rational and vo- luntary agent, are common to him with brute unintelligent matter. If this is not to be sup- ported in the affirmative, his method of conduct- ing the inquiry is necessarily proved unphiloso- phical and fallacious. It is just as were a phi- losopher, in order to ascertain the nature of the smell or colour of a rose, to set himself to con- sider the solidity of the flower and of the sur- NATURE OF FREEDOM. 53 rounding objects, and then gravely to assure us, that its odour is so many inches in length by so many in breadth and thickness. To convince his readers that his conclusions were legitimately drawn and correctly stated, he might triumphant- ly ask them, whether they ever experienced or could conceive the existence of fragrance with- out solidity, and maintain that this property was as essential to roses as to any of the surrounding objects, of which he had just taken the dimen- sions. Whether or not any hearer might feel disposed to reply in opposition to such argu- ments, no one would cease to believe that the agreeable smell of a flower and the solidity of a piece of timber are, so far as known to us, things totally different ; and that in order to obtain a knowledge of the former, there might be found a surer and more speedy method than to ascertain the nature of the latter. By the application of this principle then, Mr. Hume might discover some circumstance com- mon to matter and mind, but it is manifest that he could never obtain any knowledge of the pe- culiar properties of intelligent and voluntary agents. This accordingly he has done. The sum of his argument and the conclusion at which he arrives are contained in the following pas- sage. " And indeed," says he, ** when we consider how aptly natural and moral evidence link toge- 54 NATURE OF FREEDOM. ther and fonn only one chain of argtiment, we shatl make no scruple to allow that they are of the same nature and derived from the same prin- ciple. A prisoner, who has neither money nor interest, discovers the impossibihty of escape, as well when he considers the obstinacy of his guards as the walls and bars with which he is surrounded ; and in all his attempts for his free- dom, chooses rather to work upon the stone and iron of the one than upon the inflexible nature of the other. The same prisoner, when con- ducted to the scaffold, foresees his death as cer- tainly from the constancy and fidelity of his guards as from the operations of the axe and wheel. His mind runs over a certain -train of ideas; the refusal of the soldiers to permit his escape, the action of the executioner, the sepa- ration of his head and body, bleeding, convulsive motions and death. Here is a connected chain of natural causes and voluntary actions, but the mind feels no difference between them in passing from one link to another ; nor is less certain of the future event than if they were connected with the objects present to the memory and senses by a train of causes connected together by what we are pleased to call a physical neces- sity. The same experienced union has the same effect on the mind, whether the united objects be motives, volitions and actions, or figure and mo- tion. We may change the names of things, but NATURE OF FREEDOM. 55 their nature and operation on the understanding never change." Hence he asks, " What is meant by Hberty, when appUed to voluntary actions? We cannot surely mean that actions have so little connection with motives, inclinations and circumstances that the one does not follow with a certain degree of uniformity from the other, and that the one affords no inference from which we can conclude the existence of the other. For these are plain and acknowledged matters of fact." The reasoning and conclusion of Mr. Hume are here perfectly correct. It is universally al- lowed, to use his own language, that nothing ex- ists without a cause of its existence, and that chance, when strictly examined, is a mere nega- tive word and means not any real power which has any where a being in nature. The relation of cause and effect is the order which the great Creator has established both in the material and in the intellectual worlds ; and it is as universal as is the fact of his own existence as Creator. It is indeed originally nothing but the great truth, that he is the Creator of the heavens and the earth and of all things which are therein con- tained ; and that he has endowed them all with certain properties and attributes which constitute what is usually termed their nature. This ne- cessity then, philosophical necessity, as it is usu- ally called, or causation, is all that Mr. Hume 66 NATURE OF FREEDOM. establishes, and of course it is universally admit- ted. All beings, except the Creator, are in this sense necessary beings, as having a previous cause of their existence; and all actions, includ- ing those of the Creator, are necessary events, as being the actions of agents acting each accord- ing to the peculiar attributes of his nature. This philosophical necessity then, or causa- tion, is evidently something much too general, and is not that necessity of which liberty is the contrast. It is necessarily presupposed, as ap- peared above, in every instance of liberty or ne- cessity, and includes both. Before we can in- quire whether an action is the result of freedom or not, we must first conceive it as a m.atter of fact, that an agent actually exists and exerts the powers peculiar to his nature. Unless there be the existence of an agent, which is one fact phi- losophically necessary — the Deity being the cre- ator of this agent ; and unless there be the actual exertion of his peculiar agency, which is another fact also philosophically necessary, there is no room either for liberty or necessity. There must be both an agent and an action, otherwise the existence either of liberty or necessity is utterly inconceivable. The nature of actions, of course, is determined by the nature of the agent, and so long there- fore as he retains his distinguishing properties, the nature of his actions remains unchanged. NATURE OF FREEDOM. 57 A stone, for example, is possessed of certain properties by which it affects our senses, and thereby reveals to us the fact of its existence. So long as it retains those properties, it continues to produce similar effects, and is acknowledged by us to be what it is ; but were those properties changed, we should either lose the knowledge of its existence altogether, or we would no longer consider it a stone, but pronounce it to be some other substance. So it is with respect to the hu- man agent. So long as he retains the attributes of his nature, he acts in a certain manner, and must so act to retain his peculiar character. This act- ing in a certain manner renders him a rational and voluntary agent ; and were he acting in a manner essentially different, we could no longer consider him a human being. In the mental as well as the material world, the properties of sub- stances determine what are called the laws of na- ture ; and the laws of action therefore must re- main permanent and uniform, so long as the hu- man agent continues to be what he really is. Hence the correctness of Mr. Hume's conclusion re- specting the similarity of the nature and princi- ples of physical and moral evidence. The same principle of causation, as we formerly showed, is the ground of both ; and if, in moral subjects, cause and effect seem less firmly and invariably connected, it arises solely from our knowledge being more vague and limited. In morals, the 58 NATURE OF FREEDOM. motives without and the feeUngs within are so numerous, and possessed in so very different de- grees of strength, and liable besides to be modi- fied by so many incidental circumstances in such a variety of ways, that we can seldom trace an effect to its proper cause ; while, in physics, we generally at once find no difficulty in ascertaining precisely the relation. All this, however, determines nothing respect- ing liberty and necessity, properly so called. The fact of universal causation is indeed implied in either of them, in like manner as solidity is ne- cessary to the existence of colour or fragrance, and always presupposed in our conception of these properties ; but fragrance is not more truly a property different from solidity than is that ne- cessity which is opposed to liberty, different from the necessity whose existence is universally established above. All then that Mr. Hume establishes is the bare fact that agents really ex- ist ; but whether they enjoy freedom or labour under necessity, his mode of philosophizing could not enable him to determine. In order to account for the obvious pheno- mena of human agency therefore, Mr. Hume was under the necessity of abandoning his own principle and neglecting his own conclusions. He admits that, in one sense, man enjoys free- dom, namely, when he has the power of acting according to the determinations of his own will. NATURE OF FREEDOM. 59 Did a man desire to remove a load which, on trial, he finds himself perfectly able to carry off, he is allowed to be free ; but did the burden prove quite an overmatch for his physical strength, it must, on tlie same principle, be granted that he labours under a real necessity. The distinction here is obvious. The two supposed states of the agent are directly in contrast ; and if the one is necessity, tlie other can be notiiing but liberty. In the former, by the exertion of a superior strength, he carries his will into effect ; in the latter, through weakness, his effort is overcome and his volition frustrated. It would be perfect- ly ridiculous to confound two conditions of the agent so diametrically opposed under one name, either liberty or necessity, from the circumstance that, in some other respect, they admit of being classed together. With respect to the agent, they are in direct contrast ; and as it is with re- ference to him that they are to be considered, they must be distinguished and expressed by dif- ferent terms. On Mr. Hume's principle, how- ever, this cannot be done. He investigates some- thing common to voluntary agents with brute matter, and so far as the above results are thus common, they do not admit of being distinguish- ed. On the principles of mechanical philosophy, the one result is as necessary as the other. The natural philosopher would estimate the muscular power of the man and weigh tlie loads, and on 60 NATURE OF FREEDOM. the principle of dynamics, would justly consider both events as coming under the same univer- sal law of physical necessity or causation ; and view the man in the different situations, both with respect to his physical power and the absolute certainty of the results, as a strictly necessary agent. It matters not how the mechanical force is produced, whether by the law of gravitation or by the volition and muscular effort of the vo- luntary agent ; so far as it is common to man with brute unintelligent matter, and with respect to the absolute certainty of the results, there can be no possible distinction. Wherein then consists the striking difference between the two situations above supposed? Not it is plain in any conceivable difference in the physical power, nor yet in any possible un- certainty in the results ; but simply in the cir- cumstance that, in one instance, the will of the agent is frustrated, and in the other, it is carried into effect — and this constitutes the peculiar li- berty of a voluntary agent. But brute matter has no will ; and it is utterly absurd therefore, from such a source, to seek any information re- specting human liberty or necessity. We leave then the Author of the Treatise on Human Nature in the undisputed possession of the principle of universal philosophical necessity, that is, that nothing exists without a cause, which, if they choose, we may further explain by adding NATURE OF FREEDOM. 6l that of his disciple Dr. Priestley, that the same cause, in similar circumstances, cannot produce different effects ; and we retain the question of human liberty entire and untouched. To investigate this subject, we must abandon the principle of Mr. Hume, and have recourse to the sounder philosophy of Lord Bacon. The great principles of the inductive philosophy are, that we can know things only so far as we ob- serve the properties of the things themselves, and that we must admit the existence of nothing which is not observed and known as a matter of fact. On these principles the human mind itself must become the subject of observation. By con- sciousness, we must ascertain the nature of voli- tion ; and by a careful and exlensive induction, we must discover what is the sort of liberty which the will, or rather as Mr. Locke justly says, the human agent is capable of enjoying. We must then by the same means, discover how far this freedom is actually possessed, and whether or not, in some instances, it is subject to li- mitations. All this, it is plain, can be effect- ed only by the vigilant exercise of conscious- ness, and by the careful examination and comparison of acknowledged mental pheno- mena. Pursuing then the inquiry in this manner, we take it as the mattter of fact which constitutes 6s NATURE OF FREEDOlVf. the ground of the inquiry, that man exists as a voluntary agent, that is, a being who regulates his mechanical actions by his volitions, and the first and most obvious sort of liberty possess- ed by man in this character, is the power of act- ing or not acting according to the determination of his own will. In this it has been maintained that the whole of human liberty consists. And it is indeed a universal truth that man, when free from compulsion and restraint, is in possession of such a freedom. This states nothing but the fact that he is a voluntary agent, which we con- ceive to be a being whose volitions regulate his actions ; and experience proves that they do so as certainly as any physical cause produces its wonted effect. But that this should constitute the whole of human freedom is, at first sight, ex- posed to the same objection as Mr. Hume's doc- trine of causation being the necessity of volun- tary or moral agents. — It is something too gene- ral and not peculiar to man. Physical liberty, as that of which we are now speaking is usually call- ed, but as it should more appropriately be term- ed animal or voluntary liberty, is enjoyed not only by men in possession of all their faculties, but by idiots and by the inferior animals down to the lowest species endowed with the power only of spontaneous motion. A priori then it might be concluded that the freedom peculiar to NATURE OF FREEDOM. 63 man, as an intelligent and moral agent, must be something additional to this animal liberty, which is common to him with the lowest in the scale of the brutal creation. It is true indeed, as Locke and other writers have justly observed, that this is the only liberty which properly belongs to the will, and that any other is not that of man considered as a volunta- ry, but as a rational and moral agent. In any further investigation therefore, we consider man not merely as acting according to the de- terminations of his will, but as possessed of higher powers which regulate his volition, in like manner as his volitions regulate his actions. The question is no longer that of the liberty of the will strictly taken, but of the liberty of the man possessed of powers of a higher order. As we ascend in the scale of being, the inquiry be- comes, of course, more specific. Hume's philo- sophical necessity or liberty, as in truth it might as well be called, for it includes both, compre- hends all things animate and inanimate. Ani- mal liberty regards mere animals or rational beings considered as such ; but the liberty which we now seek, belongs exclusively to rational and moral agents. To conduct this investigation on sound prin- ciples, we have just, as formerly, to take it as the matter of fact, that man is a moral agent, and to 64s NATURE OF FREEDOM. ascertain the nature or essential properties of such a being. On the same principle then that a man, as an animal or voluntary agent, is consider- ed free when he is physically able to act accord- ing to his will, but to lie under necessity, when from weakness or irresistible opposition he is unable to act upon his volition ; he must, as a moral agent, be held to enjoy freedom, when he regulates the determinations of his will ac- cording to the decisions of his understanding. This power, it may be remarked, is very differ- ent from what has been termed the self-deter- mining power of the will. The supposition of such a power is absurd or, at best, unmeaning; for in one class of instances, it can signify no- thing but the fact that the will is determined ; and in another, it involves the absurdity of sup- posing a man to will and not to will the same thing simultaneously. Neither is the present question, whether the man does not in every in- stance regulate his will by motives; for this is another fact which, as shall afterwards appear, simply states the truth, either that man is a ra- tional being or a voluntary agent, according to the sense in which the term motive is employed. Admitting the universality of the influence of motives, our present question is, whether the hu- man agent can determine his will by the motive which he judges right, advantageous upon the NATURE OF FREEDOM. 65 whole or suitable to the circumstances in which, he acts.* Between this and animal liberty it is interest- * " By the liberty of a moral agent," says Dr. Reid, " I under- stand a power over the determinations of his own will." Essay iv. chap. i. This power this sound and judicious philosopher very properly styles moral liberty. Leibnitz, though a necessitarian, entertains similar views. His account of liberty is so just and elegant that I may be allowed in this place to make the quota- tion. La liberie du fait consiste ou dans la puissance de vouloir corame il faut ; ou dans la puissance de faire ce qu'on veut. • * La liberie de vouloir est encore prise en deux sens differcns. L'un est quand on Toppose a I'imperfection ou a I'usage de I'esprit qui est une coaction ou contrainte, mais interne comme cela qui vient des passions. L'autre sens a lieu quand on oppose la liberte a la necessite. Dans le premier sens, les Stdiciens dis- oient que le sage scul est libre ; et en effet on n'a point I'esprit libre quand il est occupe d'une grande passion ; car on ne peut point vouloir alors comme il faut, c'est ^ dire, avec la deliberation qui est requise. C'est ainsi que Dieu seul est parfaitement libre, et que les esprits crees ne le sen tent que a mesure qu'ils sont au dessus des passions. Et cette liberte regarde proprement notre entendement, I/Eniendement Humain, Liv. ii. chap. 21, § 8. " Free agency consists either in the power of willing what is right, or in the power of doing what we will. The liberty of will- ing is again taken in two different senses. The one is, when they contrast it with that compulsion or constraint which arises from the passions within (disallowed passions of course) ; the other when they contrast it with necessity (philosophical necessity or causa- tion). In the first sense, the Stoicks maintained that the wise man alone is free : and surely the mind is not free when it is hur- ried away by the violence of passion ; for at that time one cannot will as he ought, that is, as his deliberate judgment approves. Thus God alone is completely free; and created minds are free only in so far as they are superior to their passions. This free- dom regards properly the understanding (that is, not the volun- tary but the moral being)." This is the true account of human agency, and just what we are here endeavouring to illustrate; V 66 NATURE OF FREEDOM. ing to observe the analogy. When in the exer- cise of physical power a man is able to execute his volition, he is rightly said to enjoy animal or physical freedom ; and when, in like manner, in the exercise of moral power, consisting in desire and feeling, he is able to will in the manner he judges right, he is in possession of moral liberty. The former is power to act in consequence of a determination of will ; the latter is power to will in consequence of a decision of judgment. In instances of necessity of either sort, the case is just the reverse. We are under animal necessity, when from the resistance of a superior physical force, we are unable to act as we will ; but we labour under moral necessity, if, in any instance, from the presence of feeling of which our judg- ment disapproves, we are unable to resolve to act in the manner which we consider right or advan- tageous. In both species of necessity, there is opposition which we are unable to overcome. In animal necessity, it is offered from without ; in moral, it arises within, from feelings and desires which the conscience condemns. All liberty therefore is the enjoyment of power ; necessity is the result of weakness. And as in the physical world there is no distinction more obvious and better understood than that of strength and weakness, it is easy, by observing the like distinc- though this able metaphysician did not always distinctly per- ceive the extent of his own principle. The liberty opposed te causation he properly rejects as absurd and contradictory. NATURE OF FREEDOM. 67 tion in the moral department of our nature, to form a clear idea of moral liberty and necessity. And let it be observed, that important as is the distinction of weak and strong in the material world, it involves no consequences in any respect so momentous as the similar distinction in the moral. On moial liberty and necessity depend innocence or guilt, with all their happy or bane- ful effects in the present life, and all the momen- tous and awful consequences in the future.* Beyond the point to which we have now come the question of liberty and necessity should not perhaps, in strict propriety, be carried j for it is only as an animal or moral agent that man exhi- bits any transitive acts of power, to which alone liberty properly belongs. But were the inquiry to be pushed further, man is to be considered purely as an intelligent and contemplative being, and a similar distinction is observed as m the physical and moral departments of his nature. As the essential attribute of such a being is to • The reader will scarcely be in danger of being misled by what is usually called vioral necessity ; which takes place when the will is determined in w^hatevcr manner, and is plainly just philosophi- cal necessity or causation. Every volition, of course, is, in this sense necessary, that is, in other words, it has a cause; but the true question of liberty and necessity, as Dr. Clarke, in his re- marks on Collins, justly though somewhat obscurely shows, is whether the intelligent being himself is the cause or some other principle of which he disapproves. To have confounded these two opposite states of the moral agent, one of which is real necessity, under the general name of moral necessity, has been the cause of much of the confusion in which this interesting subject is involved. See more of this in the remarks on Edwards. 68 NATURE OF FREEDOM. perceive truth, he must be esteemed free when he perceives things to be as they really are ; but to lie under intellectual necessity when, from mental weakness or the derangement of his fa- culties, he mistakes falsehood for truth. There are here, as in the cases above, two conditions of the intelligent being of an opposite nature ; and if one is confessedly necessity, the other must be liberty. As animal and moral freedom is the ex- ercise of physical and moral power, so intellec- tual power is the ground of intellectual liberty, and of course the opposite state of mental weak- ness or ignorance must be considered intellectual necessity. The same contrast is found in the human agent as an animal, a moral and an intelli- gent being, and if the propriety of the distinction be admitted in the first respects, it cannot be de- nied in the last. Viewing then human liberty or necessity in these three aspects, we exhaust the whole sub- ject; for there is no need to imitate Mr. Hume and consider man as purely material, possessing properties in common with inanimate matter. Animal liberty regards him as an agent, possess- ing merely the power of voluntary motion ; in- tellectual liberty views him as an intelligent and rational being ; while moral liberty respects him as uniting both these, in one complex nature, and constituting a moral agent. Thus it appears that the whole inquiry, res- pecting liberty and necessity, is reduced to a NATURE OF FREEDOM. 69 simple question of fact, is man such an agent as has been described, or is he not ? And how in- deed should it be otherwise ? An agent is a vo- luntary or intelligent cause ; and if man really be such a cause, and not merely a passive sub- ject, he enjoys freedom co-extensive with his power, limited indeed in degree, as that of all finite beings must be, but not different in kind from that of the Almighty, whose sovereignty can con- sist in nothing more than the power of acting, in all things, according to his own good pleasure. If a voluntary agent do as he will, what other liberty can he conceive or desire ? If a moral agent fix his volition as he judges right, or most ad- vantageous and proper, why should he will other- wise, and how can he will better ? And if he judge true what is really true, and right what is really right, can the infinite understanding even of the Deity, in the given instance, do more? There is here no necessity, as shall afterwards be more fully shown, but that implied in the fact of existence — that things cannot be and not be simultaneously. In this fact the whole inquiry respecting liberty is involved. Is man really a sentient, intelligent, and moral agent ? If he is so, his freedom may admit of augmentation in degree, but in kind it is already perfect, for it is similar to that of the all-perfect Creator, with whose moral image man was endowed. If, on the other hand, he were not an agent, but a yd NATUUK OF FREEDOM. purely passive subject, as when, for instance, by the opposition of a superior pliysical force, his agency is restrained and he is unable to carry his purpose into effect ; he would then, without question, being in a state quite the reverse of liberty, be truly enthralled by a real necessity. Such then being the plain truth to be ascertain- ed, the subject of inquiry is as distinct and de- finite as any fact in the material universe ; and, by distinguishing the different agencies possessed by man, it will not be found difficult to answer the question as explicitly and satisfactorily as any other question of fact in chemistry or natural phi- losophy. With regard to animal liberty, nothing re- quires to be said in the present Essay, since the subject is well understood and admits of little or no difference of opinion. Intellectual liberty too, so far as facts are concerned, needs little il- lustration, and is here introduced chiefly to af- ford an opportunity to obviate some objections, and remove some common misapprehensions re- specting the relation of intelligence to free agency. The principal object of the Essay is to ascertain the reality of moral freedom ; to in- quire whether, in any case or to what extent, man labours under moral necessity j and to il- lustrate the leading principles and most striking mental processes, by which the human agent secures the enjoyment of the one, or is enthralled by the iron yoke of the other. MORAL FREEDOM. 71 SECTION II. MAN, IN THE EXERCISE OF HIS UNDERSTANDING, USUALLY REGULATES THE DETERMINATIONS OF HIS WILL ; THAT IS, ENJOYS MORAL FREEDOM, Our first inquiry then being simply, whether man, in the exercise of his judgment, controls and regulates his own will, Httle detail is neces- sary by way of evidence. It is to be observed, however, in entering upon this part of the sub- ject, that it is not the intention to estabhsh any principle of universal application. All that can be attempted is merely to ascertain and illus- trate a general law, supported by a multitude of facts, and leave it to be determined, in a sub- sequent section, whether or not this law admits of any exceptions. That man then, in the exercise of his judg- ment, fixes, in a multitude of instances, the de- terminations of his own will, every one must be conscious and nobody denies. The mer- chant seeks the best market for his goods, be- cause he judges it most for his^ advantage j 7.t^ MORAL FREEDOM. while the man of principle prefers virtuous con- duct to the commission of crime, because he judges it right. In all such cases, the judgment approves of a certain conduct and the will is de- termined according to its decision. Nor is the influence of the understanding li- mited to the fixing of the volitions at first : it has the power of altering them after they have been determined. Nothing is more common than that a man who has resolved to act in a certain manner, on reviewing the reasons of his resolu- tion, or on receiving additional information, changes his purpose, and determines to pursue a different or opposite conduct. Such facts form a considerable portion of the daily history of the human mind. To adopt a diiferent resolution, to alter one's purpose, to change one's mind, are expressions of common occurrence ; and to any one therefore who understands the meaning of the terms, it would be idle to present any length- ened induction to prove, that man possesses the power of fixing, modifying and changing the determinations of his own will, as he judges right, becoming, or most conducive to his inte- rest. These simple and well known truths then are all that are necessary to be determined j and holding them as acknowledged matters of fact, admitted by all parties, nothing farther is neces- sary, in the present section, but to offer a few LIB, THE MORAL FREEDOM. ((U U I V 3S51 S I T Y remarks illustrative of the principles afc^g|^^£^ .-^^ tions of the mind which account for their pro- duction. And, in the first place, an analysis of volition will facilitate our future inquiries. Mr. Locke seemed to think that desire and volition are states of mind essentially different, and, according to his own view, his opinion is not to be considered incorrect. . Dr. Reid enter- ed more fully into the examination of the sub- ject, and showed that the object of volition must, in every case, be some action of our own, or something which we believe to be in our own power and to depend upon our own will; but he did not free himself from the mistake of conceiving that, in certain circumstances, a thing may be an object of volition without at the same time being an object of desire. Dr. Brown has corrected this mistake, by demonstrating that, in every case, the object of desire or, where opposing desires co- exist, the object of the predominant desire and of volition are the same, and that volition is just another name for all those desires which are ac- companied with a belief that we shall carry them into effect. " Volition," says he, " may be said to be a complex feeling, inasmuch as it is desire combined with belief of the immediate sequence of the object desired."* In giving this account • Inquiry into the Relation of Cause and Effect, p. 66. See note A. 74 MORAL FREEDOM. of volition, he had reference to those transient determinations of will which give rise to muscular motion, but it is not necessary thus to limit the definition by the use of the epithet immediate, or to consider volition as directing merely our own physical powers. Any power of which wealth, rank or character gives us the command, is as truly the instrument of our will as a hand or a foot. The despot who leads forth his armies of obsequious slaves to overthrow cities and desolate empires, as truly wills these events as to move a finger or change an attitude. Volition there- fore may be defined the desire of any object which we believe we shall be able to obtain by means of any power which is subject to our will. When we desire to obtain any object or to per- form any action, as soon as we believe that the action will really be performed by us, or view its performance as a matter of future fact, the will is determined, and our feeling becomes a volition and no longer simple desire ; or when, on the other hand, we view the performance of an action as possible, or as a future event which, if we will, we may bring about, as soon as the desire to per- form it becomes predominant, the state of mind which is experienced is a determination of the will. Volition therefore, as Dr. Brown justly observes, is a complex feeling, and, of course, is difFe/ent from mere desire as a whole. Desire alone is always an uneasy feeling, but when it MORAL FREEDOM. 75 becomes a volition, by being attended with the beUef of the attainment of its object, it always loses some of its former uneasiness, and in most cases, becomes agreeable. This is the general character of all volitions. To follow their im- pulse, in preference to any other desire, is at the time the most agreeable, and is felt to be most productive of present satisfaction. It is not necessary, indeed, that our belief of the future attainment of the desired object should always amount to absolute certainty, for this in comparatively few instances can be experienced. Any degree of probability of our future perform- ance of the action, combined with any degree of desire, or in cases of conflicting desires, with the one of them which in any degree predominates, constitutes a feeble volition ; which increases in strength both as the certainty increases and as the desire becomes more intense, till it amount to the most determined resolution. Hence, in estimating the strength of a volition or purpose, we must take into account not only the intensity of the desire, but the degree of probability with which the individual looks forward to the attain- ment of his object. That volition is consequent- ly the strongest which results from the most in- tense desire, united with the most absolute cer- tainty of the deed. But if either of these elements are removed, if, for instance, there is no degree of probability that we shall accomplish the ob- 76 MORAL FREEDOM. ject of desire, a determination of will becomes impossible. Hence arise many of the most strik- ing and curious phenomena in the history of the human mind ; and the numerous artifices which are employed to shake a man's resolution, either by cooling his desire of the object, or diminish- ing the probability of its attainment. The nature of motives is the next subject which requires some illustration. Respecting the nature of motives, familiar as the idea is, we are not unfrequently in danger of being misled, partly by the use of metaphorical language, but chiefly from the artifices which theorists have been induced, perhaps unwittingly, to employ in order to support their favourite no- tions. The term motive has two meanings in ordinary language It signifies the perception of something addressed to any susceptibihty which directly or indirectly is the source of de- sire and hence of volition, as when it is said that money was the man's motive to commit the crime ; or it signifies the feeling actually pro- duced by the perception of such an object, as when we say that the love of gold is the motive which actuates the miser or the thief. It is not the external object viewed in itself which con- stitutes a motive, as the language in the first il- lustration might seem to imply, but the object addressed to some susceptibility of desire, as known and perceived by us. Were these two MORAL FRKEDOISf. 77 classes of motives to be distinguished by 'appro- priate names, we might term those of the one class intellectual^ and those of the other sentient motives. Hence we are furnished with a very simple and beautiful solution of the much disputed question, whether the will is always determined by motives, or when motives of an opposite tendency are felt, by the strongest. If the term motive is to be taken in the first sense, to be determined by mo- tives just means that man is a percipient and moral being, and if, in any instance, lie is not de- termined by the strongest motives, he then acts an irrational part, and having his will fixed without the approbation of his judgment, labours under moral necessity. Whether he ever does so shall be afterwards determined. If the word be em- ployed in the second sense, to say that a man is determined by motives just states the fact, that man is a voluntary agent. Motive and desire are then synonymous; and since desire was found to be an essential element of volition, where there is no motive, there can be no determination of the will ; and when conflicting desires or motives exist, the strongest, of course, involves the voli- tion, otherwise man must be conceived capable of willing against his own will, which is an ob- vious contradiction. In this sense then, it is uni- versally true, that the will is determined by the strongest motive, for the opposite supposition / 78 MORAL FREEDOM. evidently destroys the nature of a voluntary agent. With regard to the various sorts of motives by which the human mind is influenced, all the sus- ceptibilities of our constitution, it is plain, are di- rectly or indirectly the source of desire and hence of motives. The senses, the appetites, the affections, the passions, the moral and reli- gious feelings, are all, in their turn, excited and prompt us to action. Many of them, as was just hinted, do not directly influence the will, that is, constitute motives in the second sense of that term ; for in this sense nothing but desire or aver- sion, which necessarily implies desire, constitutes an element of volition. The feeling of pain, for instance, which we experience by means of the sense of touch has power to produce volition only by exciting that desire to escape the unea- siness by which it is always accompanied. So it is with our appetites and passions and feelings generally. The desire to escape or to obtain the object by which they are excited is that which directly Axes the determination of the will or, more strictly speaking, is itself the principal ele- ment of volition. Hence, in estimating the power whicli any sensation, appetite, or passion possesses to influ- ence the will, we must consider not the strength and vividness of the feeling itself, but of the de- sire of which it is the parent. The strength of MORAL FREEDOM. 79 every desire indeed is always in proportion to the strength of the feehng from which it results ; but the various feelings, relatively considered, possess the power of producing desire in very different degrees. A regular and most beautiful gradation seems to pervade all the feelings of the human constitution. Those which depend most directly upon the judgment, such as the feeling of moral approbation, will be found to possess the greatest relative power to produce desire and hence to fix volition. The less any feeling de- pends upon the understanding, the less becomes its influence over the will, till we come to the appetites and sensations which last, of all our feelings, exhibit relatively the least degree of power over our voluntary determinations. Any one who has reflected on his own mind while enduring corporal pain, or who has found it necessary to submit to a painful surgical opera- tion, must be acquainted with this constitutional law. In such circumstances he may have ob- served, that while the desire which induced him voluntarily to submit to suffering was, of course, far more powerful, with respect to its influence over the will, than the natural desire to escape present pain, the feeling which gave birth to the predominant desire was much less vivid and in- tense than the painful sensation by w^hich it was opposed. The apprehension of some future evil, or the desire of some remote and perhaps 80 MORAL FREEDOM. uncertain happiness, enables a man of ordinary fortitude steadily to encounter and calmly to endure the most excruciating sensations, which, as feelings, are vastly more vivid and intense than those conflicting motives by which they are triumphantly overcome. To this law^ of our sen- tient constitution, Mr. Hume seems to allude in his Discourse on the Passions, when he speaks of what is called reason in a popular sense, being nothing but a general and calm passion, and justly conceives that what is usually termed strength of mind consists in the prevalence of the calm passions over the violent. By this law of our nature, the wisdom and be- nevolence of the Creator has admirably provided at once for our preservation as animals and our moral freedom as responsible agents. Being ex- posed to numerous dangers from without, it was necessary, for self-preservation, that the sensa- tions of bodily pain should be sufficiently vivid to guard us against external injuries ; and, ac- cordingly, there is no ordinary feeling — for we do not speak of remorse, despair and others of a similar nature, which virtuous minds should never experience — which is capable of greater intensi- ty than corporal pain. Had sensations of this class possessed the same relative strength in the excitement of desire, and in the determination of the will as the feelings which arise wholly from within, the human agent, it is obvious, would MORAL FREEDOM. 81 have been reduced to a condition more un- happy than that of the brutes, and have been placed at the mercy of the wantonness or villany of every one who might feel disposed to injure him. By the infliction of a little bodily pain, he could have been compelled at any time to violate the most sacred dictates of his conscience, and have been hurried into tlie commission of the most fa- tal crimes. By the influence of the law under consideration, he escapes so unhappy a condi- tion, and retains his moral liberty uncontrolled and superior to the violence of men. The pa- triot can despise the dungeon and the gibbet ; and the martyr, regardless of the faggot and the wheel, can smile at the demoniacal ingenuity of the persecutor. And it is not in such circum- stances that the strength of the principle is seen to best advantage. Tiie young American Indians, we are told, with no stronger motives than those called forth by the playful humours of childhood, cheerfully rival each other in the patient endur- ance of the most intense bodily suffering. Such being the important law regarding the relative strength of motives, let us now briefly illustrate the process by which the intelligent and rational being regulates his will by means of their influence. Though many of the human motives are com- mon to man with the brutes, and would lead to action, without the superintendence of a higher o St MORAL FREEDOM. faculty, the cases in which they do not come' under the cognisance of the understanding are certainly much less numerous than some philo- sophers have seemed to believe. In all the ordi- nary actions of life, it cannot be doubted that the conscience is active, approving or condemn- ing the various motives by which mankind are prompted to fix their voluntary determinations. In many instances, when the statement, with ap* parent justice, might be called in question, the actions are familiar, the motives have been long approved and are acted on with the fullest knowledge and most entire confidence of their propriety. When a man is stimulated by any desire of which he approves, he finds it agreeable to yield to its impulse. If it is an appetite or any other feeling simply natural, without assuming the cha- racter of virtue or vice, it is indulged without exciting any other feeling to augment or dimi- nish its intensity ; and the strength of the voli- tion consequent upon it, and the amount of pleasure derived from its gratification, are in pro- portion to the intensity of the desire. Tiiis is one of the simplest cases of approved volition. When motives of a contrary tendency are expe- rienced, the process becomes more complex. Suppose two opposite motives of a prudential nature, but both morally right, to sohcit the will, the individual considers the advantages or MORAL FREEDOM. S3 disadvantages attending each of the proposed measures, compares them together, judges on which side the advantages preponderate, and de- termines, in consequence, to act in the manner which he conceives most conducive to his inte-* rest. In such a case, the lawful desire of wealth, of pleasure, or of honour is the motive which solicits the will, and which might impel the man to action without any decision of the judg- ment j but, though the judgment determines only the best means of obtaining the most com- plete gratification, since it approves of both con- flicting motives as morally right, the resolution which is ultimately taken obtains, in every re* spect, the sanction of the understanding. : But the finest instance of the power which the understanding possesses to direct the will, is ex* hibited in a virtuous mind, exposed to the temp-' tation to commit an action wliich it judges mo- rally wrong. The conscience, as formerly said, is a complex principle, composed of a perception of the understanding and the susceptibihty of the vivid, deep and solemn feelings, which, in un- corrupted minds, are awakened by the percep- tion or consciousness of right and wrong in mo- ral conduct. By the perception, it is able to take cognizance of its objects ; by the feehng, it is calculated to influence and regulate the will. In all instances of appetite, sensation and passion in general, the object is without, and affects the 84 MORAL FREEDOM. feelings of the man whether he chooses or not ; but the direct objects of the conscience are the agent's own feeUngs, motives or desires and voli- tions, and hence, in regulating his will by its perceptions, he is acting wholly from himself. In this consists the grand difference between the human agent and the brute. The latter, on per- ceiving an external object, must act on the im- pulse of the feeling which it excites, and has no means of otherwise fixing his volition : the for- mer, on the excitement of a feeling from with- out, contemplates it as right or wrong, and, by the constitution of his nature, the powerftil emo- tions of conscience are awakened, by which he is able to check the rising desire, and hold back his will from the incipient purpose. The un- worthy desire is the restraining motive, in the first sense which is given of that word ; the feel- ing of disapprobation, excited by the conscious- ness of the unlawful desire, is the opposing mo- tive, in the second sense in which that term is used. Thus it is that, in a mind endowed with the faculty of conscience, every vicious feeling carries along with it its own antidote, and the motive or desire which tempts to sin is the very motive by which it is itself resisted and destroyed. This is the admirable provision to secure the free- dom of the moral agent. When assailed by temptation, a moral power is always ready to support the decisions of his understanding j and, MORAL FllEEDOM. 35 in the citadel of his own heart, the moral agent, authoritatively approving and condemning the various emotions as they arise, keeps secure pos- session of his soul and maintains his authority within, successfully resists the allurements and violence of temptation without, and vindicates his right to exercise supreme control over all his own desires, volitions and actions. These simple instances of volition may be, at present, sufficient to illustrate the manner in which the will is at first determined ; and we now proceed to offer some remarks respecting the process by which the purpose is altered, when it has already been taken. Every one must have experienced, that a change of will is generally attended with un- easiness, and, in some instances, with extreme reluctance. Let a man have long cherished some favourite scheme, in the success of which he has been accustomed to conceive his inte- rest deeply involved, and in support of which all his sanguine feelings have been long engaged; and let a more discerning friend succeed in con- vincing him, that the execution of his projected undertaking might be hazardous or impracti- cable, its consequences useless or perhaps perni- cious, and that to act in a different manner will certainly, in all respects, be more beneficial j and he will experience the struggle to which I al- lude. In such circumstances, many men, whose MJUAL FREEDOM. feelings have not been sufficiently inured to sub- mit to their judgment, would find little difficulty, in opposition to the conviction of the imprudence and dangerous consequences of the attempt, and encouraged by little more than the bare possibi- lity of success, to persist in their purpose, till failure might teach them moderation. But let a man even of the most powerful and best dis- ciplined mind be placed in such a situation, and he will feel that the determination of the will does not immediately and without a struggle, follow the conviction of the judgment. He will experience a strong propensity to cling to every argument and probability in favour of his pur- pose, and to shut out from view every considera- tion which would tend to alter it ; and it will not be till after repeated struggles with himself, that he will cheerfully embrace a measure which he cannot but conceive more advantageous than that which he abandons. In cases of this nature, instead of what has been unmeaningly termed the self-determining power of the will, the human agent, in the exer- cise of a superior power, does a sort of violence to his own volition, and forces his will to adopt resolutions to which it was most obstinately op- posed. It is plain too, that were the understand- ing the only power independent of the will, #uch changes of purpose could take place only when some new information or some forgotten ItfORAL FRIEDOM. Z^ and neglected truth was forced upon his atten- tion from without ; but he could never, of him- self, alter a resolution when once taken. The author of our nature has wisely provided against such an abridgement of human liberty, by fur- nishing the mind with another faculty, in a great measure free and independent of the will. This principle is what is usually explained under the title of the Association of Ideas. Without disputing with Mr. Locke whether or not tliinking be essential to mind, it is granted by all, as a matter of fact, that, so far as we are conscious, the thinking principle is incessantly active. The doctrine of the Association of Ideas is nothing more than the statement of this fact, in connection with the additional fact, that the mind pursues its ideas in a certain order, ac- cording to certain relations between the ideas themselves, or certain feelings in the mind re- specting the associated ideas. It is of little moment to our present purpose which enumeration of the laws of Association be adopted — whether that of Dr. Brown, who divides them into primary and secondary laws of suggestion; or whether, allowing Dr. Brown's se- condary laws a more important place, to which they are justly entitled, we divide them into two classes, which may be named the intellectual dindi sentient laws of Association — the former includ- ing all the associating relations among things 88 MORAL FREEDOM. themselves as perceived by us ; the latter all the feelings of our own minds wliich have reference to the objects of thought, and which therefore di- rect the train of ideas. This latter class of laws depends on the well known fact, that whatever interests the affections engages the attention. We think most on what we love best. Hence every feeling and emotion of our nature draws the attention towards its object, and exercises a powerful influence in directing and modifying the current of thought. This class of laws, it may be remarked, was strangely neglected by writers on association, till Dr. Brown took more particular notice of them under the name of the secondary laws of sug- gestion. That acute philosopher, though he has the merit of having been the first writer who gave them, to a considerable degree, the place to which they are entitled, does not appear to have perceived the great extent of their influ- ence. In moral questions, indeed, they are the only laws which deserve notice ; for it is to them that we owe all the voluntary power which we exercise over the understanding. On this prin- ciple, too, depend abstraction, attention, and other powers usually enumerated by mental phi- losophers. * Leaving, however, the principle of association to be elsewhere illustrated, the fact of the mind's • See Note B. MORAL FREiiDOM. 89 unceasing activity is undisputed. Though, by the admirable wisdom of our Creator, the will possesses the power of modifying and directing the current of thought so far as is necessary for our improvement and comfort, the mind continues to pursue its train of ideas whether we will or not, and often in direct opposition to our most ardent wishes. How often does the think- ing principle recur to ideas from which we would most gladly escape, and which we cannot but consider the disturbers of our peace. The guilty know the force of the principle ; and the virtu- ous man, when exposed to temptation, is aware how helpless he frequently must have been, had the train of his thought depended upon his will. When already his better judgment was obscured by the rising emotions of passion, and his better purposes completely shaken, the unwearied acti- vity of thought, like a guardian angel, has pre- sented to his consideration some neglected truth, and thereby awakened a new set of feelings, which enabled him triumphantly to resist the al- most successful temptation, and resolutely to hold fast his integrity. The villain, in like manner, hastening to execute a criminal purpose, some- times feels his resolutions unexpectedly shaken and his arm unnerved ; and is filled with remorse at the conception of the deed which but a little before he was eager to commit. In all such cases, it is plain that the thinking principle acts 90 MORAL FREEDOM. without the concurrence of the will, and by its peculiar power effects a change in the voluntary determinations. It is usually taught by writers on this subject, that the thinking and rational powers are, at least to a certain extent, passive. This mistake seems to have arisen by paying attention too exclusive- ly to mechanical action, and has been favoured by the unnatural division of the powers of the human mind into intellectual and active. " Ac- tion," says Dr. Beattie, *' implies motion." If this indeed were universally true, the intellec- tual powers of course cannot be classed with the active ; for motion is no property of intellect and volition. But this principle, it is obvious, re- gards only animal action, which necessarily im- plies motion, without including the activity of spiritual agents. Whenever we allow the exist- ence of spiritual and moral beings, we must extend the induction, and consider the sort of action which is peculiar to such agents, be- fore it can be admitted, as an axiom in moral science, that action always implies motion. An action is properly an effect produced by an agent. Wherever therefore there is an effect produced there is action. In order to ascertain then, whether the intellectual powers are active or not, we have only to consider whether they produce any effect. Now every one knows that MORAL FREEDOM. 91 certain views of truth produce certain feelings and fix certain volitions, as surely and uniformly as those volitions produce mechanical action. Here then we have an effect produced by the intellec- tual as well as one by the sentient powers ; and why should w^e term the one active more than the otlier ? Each is followed, with equal certain- ty and uniformity, by its peculiar effect. The thinking and judging principle produces volition; the volition produces animal motion ; and it were as reasonable to seek moral feeling in the hand or judgment in the foot, in order to render it ca- pable of motion, as it were to seek motion from the understanding in order to pronounce it ah active power. Its activity consists in the excite^ ment of feeling, in like manner as that of the will consists in the production of muscular mo- tion. There is no room tlien for declaring the one class of powers active in opposition to the other, for both are equally active in the produc- tion of their proper effects. And were we dis- posed to make such a distinction among the fa- culties of the mind, the active powers, as they are usually called, should in reality be considered passive, and the intellectual active. Volition in every instance is produced, either by sensation and appetite, which arise wholly from the state of the body altogether independently both of the will and the understanding, or from the percep- tion of an object addressed to some susceptibility 9^ MORAL FREEDOM. of feeling or passion. In either case, volition is wholly an effect and as such is purely passive. It does indeed produce another effect in the muscu- lar motions of the body, with reference to which, it is a cause, and is to be considered active ; but as it is passive with respect to its own production, its action is similar to that of a ball which commu- nicates to another body the motion which itself has received. With respect to the intellectual powers by which it is produced, it is altogether a passive effect, and they alone are truly active. The na- tural division of the human faculties then, with reference to the mind itself, is into active or in- tellectual powers and passive susceptibilities, among which are included all the sensations, feel- ings, desires and volitions. The intellectual powers then exhibit a two- fold activity ; they produce volition in the same manner that volition is the cause of action, and are besides possessed of an activity pecuhar to themselves. This peculiar activity deserves the attention of the inquirer respecting liberty. The argument which the fatalist has sometimes em- ployed, as if the activity within were produc- ed by the influence of objects without, by means of sensation, is utterly undeserving of notice. The senses, it is true, are the original source of the ideas with which the intellectual powers are employed ; and hence it is sometimes insinuated, that sensation is the cause of thought. Since the MORAL FREEDOM. 93 doctrine of innate ideas is not to be supported, there may be a period previous to which the think- ing powers are in a state of inaction, in which they might for ever remain, were they not arous- ed by sensation. But even then, it is needless to say, sensation is only the object of thought, and the occasion of mental activity, not the cause. Were there not a mind to feel and to think, in vain might the visual ray strike the eye, or the fragrant effluvia assail the olfactory nerves. The dog which accompanied Sir Isaac Newton might f'\ ^ mark the fall of the apple as quickly and dis- / ' i tinctly as its master ; but it was the mind of the ^ ^"^ philosopher alone which could take the hint re- specting the universality of gravitation, and by its application unfold the delightful harmony of the seemingly discordant universe. And after objects of thought have been obtained by sensa- tion, we are conscious that the mind never ceas- es to think. Sensation then only introduces new ideas, and diverts the current of thought, by call- ing away the attention of the mind to external objects, but does not necessarily increase the men- tal activity. Though sensation were, at any pe- riod, to be altogether obstructed, the rudest mind, with the scantiest stock of ideas, might be not less busy than when prompted by the most vivid sensation ; and certainly would never entirely cease to think. Hence then the thinking powers are entitled 94 - MORAL FREEDOM. to be considered active, not only on the same ground as the voUtions, but also on account of their own pecuHar activity, exhibited in the cease- less current of ideas. This activity of thought is an ultimate fact in the philosophy of mind ; and is not to be explained, like action and voli- tion, by a reference to any higher faculty as its cause. It is a pure fact of existence. While the mind exists, it thinks, must ever be esteemed an axiom in mental philosophy. It is not so with regard to feeling or volition. Man is not always in motion ; and his desires are frequently at rest, and leave the mind void of any present purpose ; but the wakeful thinking principle ceases not from its wonted action. Like the Father of spi- rits, by whose inspiration it was at first bestowed, it slumbereth not nor sleepeth. And as it seems to depend on the spiritual essence of the human soul, there is no room to doubt, that when the head by which it perceives, and the heart by which it feels, are mouldering in dust, it will re-, turn still vigorous and active to God who gave' it . It is this ceaseless activity of thought then, combined with the judgment, which secures to man the power of altering his own voluntary de- terminations. This power could not be enjoyed to any great extent, merely by the exercise of the understanding, which judges of the right and. wrong, t^ie advantageous and disadvantageous. MORAL FREI^DOM. 95 of objects, when brought before it, without being able to call forth those ideas which are not al- ready present. And never would the will, when once determined, effect its own change, by di- recting the attention to considerations unfavoura- ble to itself. The active principle of thought alone is able to change the purpose, by bringing into view all the facts, arguments and considera- tions, connected with the proposed measure, and, by this means, giving the inteUigent agent an opportunity to examine the whole case, and judge truly what is right or advantageous, and fix his volition accordingly. Association thus does for a man a service often rendered him by a better informed and more prudent friend. When, on a sudden emergency, or under the influence of pas- sion, he has been hurried into a resolution which, were all the circumstances considered, he could not approve, the active principle of thought comes to his aid, brings some neglected conside- rations into view, awakens new feelings and de^ sires, and hence leads him to reconsider his for- mer reasons, and finally to change his purpose* In certain instances of this sort, in vain may th^ volition struggle to maintain itself, by its ten- dency to direct the attention exclusively to the arguments in its own favour, and to exclude the opposite considerations ; the principle of associ- ation, notwithstanding all opposition, forces new* reasons and neglected trutJis upon the attention, 96 MORAL FREEDOM. and constrains the judgment to alter its former decision, and give a new direction to the will which was already decided. Thus the thinking and judging principles are the source of the power by which the human agent controls his volitions, and asserts his moral freedom. Except those two faculties, all the powers of the mind are, strictly speaking, passive susceptibilities. As animal motion depends on volition, so volition, when most independent, is the result of the thinking principle. Both the thinking and judging faculties, or, as Dr. Brown would express them, simple and relative sugges- tion, are independent of desire and volition. The man thinks whether he wills it or not ; and the judgment is ever ready to pronounce its decisions on the objects which simple suggestion presents. It is this circumstance that renders them ade- quate to be the governing principles of a moral and responsible agent. The brutes are prompt- ed to action by sensation and appetite, in the same manner as man ; but, being destitute of an understanding capable of perceiving moral dis- tinctions, and hence, of controlling their desires and feelings, their volitions are regulated en- tirely by external circumstances, over which they have no control. It is not so with the hu- man agent. He can contemplate the circum- stances in which he is placed, judge what con- duct is morally right or most for his advantage, 4 MORAL LIBERTY. 97 resolve to act in the manner his conscience ap- proves, and defy the power of man and all creat- ed beings to force him from his purpose. The history of Christianity affords many illustrious examples of human power and of moral freedom. It was not without reason that the angel forbade the apostle to worship him, and there was no condescension in confessing his equality as a fellow servant — the human being, in the exercise of his conscience, acknowledges inferiority to none but the Creator. 9§ INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. SECTION III. OF INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. It is admitted, then, as a matter of fact, that the human agent, in the exercise of his under- standing, has, in many instances, the power to change the determinations of his will, as well as to fix them at first. This power of changing the will, it is plain, can be enjoyed only within cer- tain limits — in those cases, namely, in which the volition has been the result of partial knowledge, or of a mind under the undue influence of pas- sion. When a resolution has been taken by an enlightened mind, in the deliberate exercise of its faculties, no change can be effected by means of the understanding. To retain his moral free- dom, the man must then act according to his vo- lition and cannot act otherwise. Hence an ar- gument is derived against the existence of hu- man liberty. In entering upon this part of the investiga- tion, it is necessary to premise tl at, ahhough the facts now to be considered are universally acknowledged without difference of opinion, the INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. 99 inquiry, regarding what we have termed the free- dom of the understanding, is not to be considered any idle logomachy respecting the use of the term necessity. It is of some importance to true science to class things aright, and not to con- found objects essentially different under the same term. All the sciences afford striking proofs of the pernicious consequences of such a mode of proceeding, and none more strikingly than the subject under consideration. By the improper use of the term necessity, and by confounding opposite things under that name, men have been led, and apparently with good reason, into the much more dangerous mistake of calling good evil and evil good ; and hence have been involved in all the dreadful consequences of moral guilt. The perusal of the writings of the French scepti- cal school, and the consideration of the causes of the tragical scenes during the revolution in that country, will convince any one that it is not un- important to settle the right meaning of the terms liberty and necessity, and deliver us from the unmeaning use of them. For as Dr. Brown well observes, " to remove a number of cumbrous words is, in many cases, all that is necessary to render distinctly visible, as it were to our very glance, truths which they and they only have been for ages hiding from our view.'* Since the understanding, then, to resume our subject, perceives multitudes of truths to be as 100 INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. they really are and cannot perceive them other- wise ; if, in those instances, the man regulates his will by the decisions of his judgment, he is no longer, it is contended, a free but a strictly ne- cessary agent. The decision of his judgment and determination of his will depend on circum- stances over which he has no command. By these circumstances the man's conduct is and must be determined with the most absolute cer- tainty. He must inevitably judge, and will, and act in a certain manner. No choice nor alterna- tive of conduct is left him. It is vain then, it is argued, to contend for human liberty. If the man act upon his judgment, he is shut up to a certain line of conduct as certainly and as una- voidably as if he were compelled to act under the irresistible law of physical necessity. All the facts here stated are frankly admitted ; and it is granted that they do indeed prove a sort of necessity. But let us for a moment consider its nature. It is in truth nothing but the neces- sity which is implied in the proposition, a thing cannot be and not be at the same time ; that is, it is the simple fact of existence. While matter exists, it must be extended, figured and solid ; while grass is green, it must be green ; while the earth revolves, it must be in motion ; and, in like manner, while man remains an in- telligent being, he must perceive truth to the extent of his knowledge. The very essence, as INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. 101 known to us, of an intelligent and rational being is to perceive truth. To suppose a man indiffer- ent with respect to the perception of all truth, is to conceive him to be no longer an intelligent being. When we say, therefore, that man per- ceives truth to be true, and of necessity cannot perceive it otherwise, we state nothing more than the simple fact, that man is an intelligent crea- ture. Mr. Hume's doctrine of necessity, we formerly saw, is the bare trutli, that all the substances and accidents with which we are acquainted, derive their existence from some cause ; that is, it is nothing but the fact of the universal preva- lence of causation. With regard to substances, it states, that all those around us are created beings ; with respect to actions, it affirms that every action implies an agent acting according to the attributes of bis nature. The contrast of the first part of this necessity is self-existence, that is, uncaused, unbeginning existence, which belongs only to the Deity ; who, in this sense, therefore, is the only free being in the universe. The hist part, since we cannot conceive an acci- dent without a subject, nor an action without an agent, has no contrast, unless we find it in the substantial forms of the school-men ; who have the merit of having maintained the reality of something, not only non-existent but inconceiv- able and contradictory, and of having afforded a 102 INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. fine specimen of words absolutely without mean- ing. The necessity of which we are now speak- ing, though different from Mr. Hume's, and in some respects opposite, is so much the more ir- rational. The mere fact of existence is necessi- ty. The Deity, as being self-existent, is, in this sense, the most necessary of all beings. As an intelligent being, whose understanding and know- ledge is infinite, and who, therefore, perfectly perceives all possible truths, and cannot but per- ceive them, he is placed under an infinitely greater degree of necessity than any of his finite intelligent creatures, who are necessary only in proportion to their intellectual power. The con- trast of this necessity is non-existence. To de- liver any being from the necessity of being what he is, or an intelligent being from the necessity of perceiving truth, he must be annihilated; and then, indeed, he will, in this sense, be perfectly free. Nothing is necessary respecting a non- entity. Deprive a man of his rational and mo- ral faculties, and he will be indifferent to all truths not common to him with the brutes ; but he will still be under the necessity of being a sentient and voluntary agent. Deprive him, again, of sensation and volition, and reduce him to mere matter, and he will be free from the neces- sity of feeling and of spontaneous motion ; but he will still be under the greater necessity of being sohd, extended and figured. Reduce him to a INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. 10^ nonentity, and he is completely free from all necessity. He will then be perfectly indifferent to truth, and will no longer be under any neces- sity to think, to judge, or to reason. But while an intelligent and rational mind really exists, he must be under the necessity of doing them all; that is, he must retain the high and glorious attributes which render him what he is, and in which consists all his capabihty of enjoying free- dom. He cannot be and not be simultaneous- Hence appears the ridiculous misconception and absurdity of the arguments which are occa- sionally urged against the existence of liberty, that to render man free " he must not be neces- sarily determined to assent to truth only — he must be indifferent to propositions notwithstand- ing any evidence for them — he must be able to reject what appears true to him and assent to what seems to him absurd — he must be capable of judging contrary to reason." Utterly absurd as such suppositions must appear, they are, how- ever, not more inconsistent with the existence of man, as an intelHgent being, than it is inconsis- tent with his existence, as a voluntary agent, to conceive that he can act without motives or in opposition to the strongest. Writers on both sides of the question of liberty and necessity are equally chargeable with the absurdity of main- taining contradictions. They have generally ne- 104 INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. glected what should have constituted the preli- minary question, the nature of the being respect- ing whose liberty they proposed to inquire. And hence, as might have been anticipated, the liberty of which they have dreamed has, at one time, supposed an intelligent being without intelli- gence ; at another, a voluntary agent without vo- lition. It is altogether unreasonable, therefore, to con- sider the mere fact of existence necessity. Be- fore any inquiry can be instituted respecting the necessity or liberty of any being, its existence must be admitted as a matter of fact, and then we may proceed to ascertain how far it enjoys liberty or labours under necessity. In the pre- sent Essay, therefore, we have assumed as the ba- sis of our investigation, that man really is what he is, an intelligent and rational being, that is, that he perceives truth to be true, what is morally right to be right, and, in general, things to be as they really are. This fact being admitted, and conducting the inquiry on the true and obvious principle which we have hitherto observed, namely, that the en- joyment of the power peculiar to the nature of the being is freedom, but that weakness is ne- cessity ; what is the liberty which belongs to the human understanding ? Is the man free who, in the exercise of a sound judgment, perceives truth to be as it is, or he who from the weakness INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. 105 or derangement of his intellectual faculties, judges true what is really false ? Were a propo- sition of Euclid presented to an accomplished geometrician and to a man of weak mind, desti- tute of mathematical knowledge, which would enjoy intellectual freedom ? Would it be he who is able to comprehend nothing about the matter, and who perhaps beUeves an absurdity ; or he whose acute and unclouded intellect at once unravels all the intricacies of a perplexing diagram, traces out all its manifold relations, and quickly beholds the truth in all its force of demonstration ? The answer cannot be mistaken. It were utterly ab- surd to reduce ourselves to the necessity of pro- nouncing weakness and ignorance free, by main- taining that the opposite condition of power and knowledge is necessity. If we will employ the contradistinctive terms, it is obvious to which of the states each of them must be assigned. Lord Bacon understood perhaps more than he expressed by his celebrated maxim. Knowledge is power. Knowledge is not only power but freedom. Besides being true in augmenting our animal freedom by extending our control over physical nature, it is true also more directly in reference to the understanding itself. A man's intellectual liberty is exactly commensurate with his knowledge. With respect to what a man does not know, or, from want of capacity, cannot know, he is under necessity. The higher, there- 106 INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. fore, a creature ascends in the scale of intelligent being, the greater becomes his capacity and the wider his sphere of liberty ; the lower he de- scends the more is he subject to the stern control of necessity, till he sink to the irrational brute or the unconscious clod, which is altogether a neces- sary agent. The Deity alone, whose understand- ing is unlimited, is the only being possessed of absolutely unlimited freedom. As he is almighty in power, his physical freedom is unbounded ; as he is perfectly holy, his moral liberty is infi- nite ; so, since he is the father of lights, infinite in knowledge, his intellectual liberty is equally extensive. Hence, in the mighty chain of being, the nearer any creature approaches to his Crea- tor, if we may be permitted to speak of finite ap- proaching infinity, the wider is his sphere, and the greater his enjoyment of intellectual freedom. A creature, however, it may be remarked, en- joys within his own sphere a perfect, though finite freedom of intellect, when he fully knows all the circumstances and relations in which he is placed, and on which his security and happi- ness depend. Man, therefore, in his primitive state of innocence, enjoyed a perfect, though, no doubt, a very limited freedom. He under- stood all the relations in which he was placed, as a moral being, and by which he required to regulate his conduct ; and hence, by acting on his knowledge and discharging his duty, he pos- INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. 107 sessed all the means of securing to himself the permanent enjoyment of complete felicity. By extending his sphere of knowledge, he might gratify curiosity, but could add nothing to his happiness ; or, by extending it in a wrong direc- tion, he might involve himself in ruin, as we know has been the case. Hence generally, in com- paring the degree of freedom enjoyed by two beings of different orders, it must not be con- ceived that the additional amount of liberty en- joyed by the being of the higher order implies an equal amount of necessity imposed upon the other. AH beings who enjoy freedom to the ex- tent of their capacity, each within his own sphere, are possessed of a perfect liberty. The brute possesses all the freedom of which it is capable, when, within the inclosures of the meadow on which it grazes, it is able to gratify all its appe- tites and desires ; and it would be absurd to say, that because it does not enjoy moral freedom, it therefore labours under moral necessity. Both moral liberty and necessity, with regard to it, are nonentities ; and it can as little be oppress- ed with the one as rejoice in the possession of the other. The case is exactly similar with re- gard to man and beings of a higher order, or even the Deity himself. The extent of know- ledge, the degree of holiness, and the amount of physical power possessed by an archangel, must vastly surpass our loftiest conceptions, and hence 108 INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. his sphere of intellectual, moral and physical freedom must, in tlie same degree, be superior ; but the humblest being in the moral creation, who knows the relations in which he stands to God and his fellow creatures, who regulates his will by this knowledge, and who is able to gra- tify his desires, which, when so regulated, must needs be easily gratified, enjoys a freedom as perfect and complete, in all its departments, as the bright occupant of the throne nearest that of the Almighty. The two vessels, to borrow the striking illustration employed by an eminent di- vine for a similar purpose, are of different capa- cities, but they are equally full. Nothing taken from the copious contents of the one can be add- ed to the perfect fulness of the other. In such a state of perfect enjoyment, there is no place for envy ; which must be the vice not less of a miserable than of a wicked being. But to return from this digression, it must be admitted that, if we will employ the terms liberty and necessity with any rational meaning, and apply them according to any real diiference in the objects, the intelligent being must be consi- dered free who judges correctly of things as they truly are ; and that he alone who labours under misconception and mistake is enthralled by ne- cessity. To such a being knowledge is power ; his weakness consists in ignorance. But with regard to the independent existence INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. 109 of the circumstances and relations by the percep- tion of which man regulates his volition, if it be still urged that he is under necessity, inasmuch as his perceptions and consequent voUtions are in- fallibly certain, this also is nothing but the neces- sity of existence, and is implied in the fact, that man is an intelligent being; for to a created mind, destitute of innate ideas, there can be no thought or intelligence where there is nothing to be known and understood. It were an insult to the understanding of the reader, in the present age, to offer a refutation of Hartly and Priestley's mechanical theory of association, or to attempt to prove that, in thought, external objects are the mere occasions or subjects, and not the cause. The mind is the sole agent, surrounding objects are the passive subjects of contemplation. Except the objects which produce sensation, whose influ- ence, it appeared, man is perfectly able to con- trol, nothing can become a motive and regulate the will which is not actually perceived and whose relation to us is understood. In the per- ception of the manifold relations of things, the intelligent mind is not less active than in its de- termination of the subsequent volition. The agency and power are solely on the part of the thinking being, and the surrounding objects, which he contemplates, are merely the passive subjects of his thought. And the excellence of this sort of agency consists in the fact, that it is 110 INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. the power of judging what is right and best, and hence of fixing the will in the manner most con- ducive to the present and future interest of the individual. Man, whether considered as a con- templative being in the perception of truth, or as a moral being in the determination of his will, is the sole agent ; the objects of the universe, which he beholds, are the subjects of his power. He is the sovereign, judging, willing, and command- ing ; they are the obsequious ministers of his pleasure, assiduously presenting objects of thought to his understanding, watching every op- portunity to recreate and delight his senses, con- stantly providing occasion of salutary exercise to his active powers, and thus enabling him, instead of sinking into contemptible imbecility and insig- nificance, to ascend in the scale of intellectual and moral being, till he should be prepared for a nearer approach to the source of all wisdom and knowledge. But not to insist longer upon an objection which would declare an intelligent being under necessity, because he has real and not imaginary objects of thought, and has thereby an opportu- nity of exerting the very power and agency in which freedom consists ; let us rather proceed to notice the practical consequences, and to consi- der the argument derived from the certainty of future actions. No being but the Deity, when prior to all crea- INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. Ill tion he existed alone in his uncreated glory, has ever been otherwise situated than surrounding by a number of circumstances, by the perception of which he, less or more, regulates his conduct. The first subject of creative power found himself in the relation of a creature towards his God, and placed the Creator himself in a new relation by which, as a moral Governor, unchangeable in justice and holiness He thenceforth unalter- ably determined his conduct towards a moral creature under his administration. As the num- ber of creatures was increased, the extent was enlarged to which the Deity fixed his future ac- tions, with as much absolute certainty as could be those of his creatures by the laws of their con- stitution. Should we hence conclude that the divine freedom was abridged ? No, certainly ; quite the reverse. His liberty, we might rather say, was augmented, inasmuch as he had then an opportunity of enjoying it, by the exercise of his inherent power, which otherwise must have remained for ever inert. Though as a holy moral being He had infallibly fixed, for the future eter- nity, his conduct towards his moral creatures, this necessity was nothing but the fact that, hav- ing determined to act in a certain manner, and having expressed his determination by the crea- tion of moral beings, he would indeed act accord- ing to the rule which He himself had laid down, and not contradict his own decree. The infal- 112 INTELLECTUAL LIBKUTV. lible certainty of the future actions, which he has declared his purpose to perform, just proves the irresistible and infinite degree of his power, and hence the infinitude of his moral and physi- cal freedom. So groundless then is the supposition that the pre-determination of future actions, by external circumstances, as occasions not as causes, lays an agent under any necessity which is inconsistent with freedom, or rather which itself may not be the most absolute freedom. The fact of tha certainty of future actions, depending, as it does, on causation, is, like it, perfectly indifferent to the question of liberty or necessity. It may be necessity, or it may be liberty, according to the agency employed in the determination. If a being have his actions pre-determined by the power of another, without his approbation and in opposition to his will, he is placed under a real necessity ; but if by his own agency, the more infallibly certain they are, the greater his power and the more extensive his freedom. Hence ap- pears the soundness of the views, on this subject entertained by the vulgar understanding of man- kind, uncorrupted by a false and blundering phi- losophy. A man conscious of his own power, looks forward with full confidence to multitudes of actions which he purposes to perform, and never dreams that because, if nothing unforeseen intervenes, his conduct is fixed, that therefore his INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. 113 liberty is impaired. He feels himself an agent, and the certainty of his future conduct is enjoy- ed as one of the sweetest fruits of his freedom. He has resolved and feels confident of his ability to perform ; and the more certainly and for the longer period liis future conduct is unalterably determined, the more we admire his powder and the greater is his liberty. Were there any doubt of his performance of the purposed actions, or did we imagine that they were subject to contin- gency, instead of believing him free, we would at once pronounce him weak and subject to a real and painful necessity. But could he, in the ex- ercise of a clear and comprehensive intellect, and prompted by great and aspiring wishes, declare that thus and thus shall I act through life ; and could he, in opposition to every obstacle, with dauntless and unbending resolution, make good his purpose ; he would justly be considered as a man of no ordinary power, and be held to pos- sess a degree of liberty far above that which man- kind usually enjoy. His power and the cer- tainty of his future actions, are exactly commen- surate ; and if he once imagine that the execu- tion of his purpose is contingent, it is from the painful consideration that he is weak, and may want the ability to do as he has determined.* * Thus the doctrine of our most holy faith, that God knoweth the end from the beginning, is proved consistent with free agency; nay, it is directly implied in the fact that men are free agents, or I il4 INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. Though therefore it is peculiar to the Deity, that in all his actions He is only carrying into effect his own decree, which was at first an act of his absolute sovereignty, emanating wholly from himself and independent of all foreign cir- cumstances and relations ; man is really, so far as action is concerned, precisely in a similar si- tuation. The difference consists solely in the manner in which they have been brought into their respective situations, and not in the situa- tion itself or its practical consequences. The Deity, by an act of sovereign power, placed himself in his present relation to his moral crea- tures : man was placed in his present circum- stances, by the will and power of another, with- out his previous consent, which could not be given, when as yet he did not exist ; but after having been placed in their respective relations, the moral Creator, acting according to the immu- table attributes of his being, and the moral crea- ture, acting upon the uncorrupted principles of his nature, are precisely in the same condition with respect to their mode of conduct. This is obvious, when it is considered that the mind of man is not an arbitrary thing, formed lather that they are agents ; for if a man really be an agent, he is free. This doctrine, as well as others which are generally consid- ered most hostile to liberty, are indeed equally consistent with li- berty or necessity, though certainly incompatible with the imagin- ary liberty of a nonentity — which contingency implies. S^ or THE '^ INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. |(U NI YfiE. S I T i upon no model, and acting on principt^ SfitE ^ K^^^^ liar to itself. Revelation informs us that man was created in the image of God. This similarity of man to his Creator respects the Deity, both as an intelligent and moral being ; and consists therefore, as we learn from the same source, in knowledge and moral holiness. Hence human knowledge, though finite, is true knowledge, and differs not in kind from that of God and of supe- rior beings, who possess his image in a higher de- gree. What man, on sufficient evidence, per- ceives to be true, is true also in the sight of God ; and what he perceives to be right, God also judges right. The knowledge of the one is infinite, that of the other exceedingly limited ; but so far as it extends, the finite and the infinite exactly coincide. Whatever, therefore, God sees meet to reveal, as tlie expression of his moral will, enlightened man cannot fail to approve. His natural perceptions of right and wrong, or, as divines express it, the law originally written on his heart, and the revealed law of God speak the same language. Even in the present state of ig- norance and moral corruption, it is the native dictate of the human mind, that all the com- mandments of his Creator are right. The infidel may please himself with the ingenious sophistry with which he attempts to support his paradoxes ; or rather, conscious of his guilt, he may seek to remove the uneasy feelings of self-reproach and 116 INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. shame, by labouring to convince himself and others of his moral consistency ; but, if he will consult the secret sentiments of his own heart, he will feel constrained to confess, that the law which enjoins nothing but supreme love to God and benevolence to man must needs be holy, just and good. Observe then what would be the practical re- sult, were man uniformly regulating his will by the dictates of an enlightened understanding. Judging all the precepts of the divine law right, he would will what God wills, and act as God commands. His volition and the will of the Deity would constantly coincide. The expres- sion of the moral will of God, contained in the sacred Scriptures, would be the supreme and in- variable rule of all his volitions and actions. The moral Creator and the moral creature approving the same thing, the one would will it to be obeyed, the other would dehght to obey. The sentiments of every heart would be those of the generous king of Israel, " Oh how love I thy law ! how sweet are thy words unto my taste ! yea sweeter than honey to my mouth, more to be desired are they than gold, yea much fine gold ; sweeter also than honey, even the honey comb." And what would be the physical consequences of this state of feeling and manner of acting? By the constitution of human nature, and by the appointment of the eternal Governor, happiness INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. 117 would be the only result. The feeling of a good conscience — that most elevating and delightful of all the states of mind of which a perfect moral being is capable, is the necessary and immediate fruit of moral innocence. And under the go- vernment of a just and holy being, perfect hap- piness is the certain condition of all his innocent creatures. Innocence and happiness are indisso- lubly connected, both by our constitution and by divine justice. Light and heat do not more ne- cessarily flow from the sun, while the present constitution of the universe remains unchanged, then is perfect felicity the consequence of moral innocence. The apostle spoke not less truly as a mental philosopher than as an inspired teacher of the Gentiles in faith and verity, when he laid down the. grand principle of the divine adminis- tration with respect to innocent beings, " glory, honour, and peace to every man that worketh good, to the Jew first and also to the Gentile." Such, then, is the only necessity, if, for want of a better, we may still employ the term, under which man is laid by his uncorrupted con- stitution. It is the necessity of being wise, vir- tuous, and happy, or, as the apostle finely ex- presses it, of seeking glory, honour, and immor- tality. To escape from this glorious necessity, an intelligent and moral being, while he actually exists, has no alternative but to be foolish, vi- cious, and wretched ; and then, indeed, he is in 118 INTELLECTUAL LIBEllTY. a condition most remote from a state of freedom. There is no medium between these two opposite conditions 5 for it is utterly unmeaning to talk of indifference being essential to a state of liberty. For an intelligent being to be indifferent to truth, he must become an idiot, or, rather, indeed, be annihilated ; and the moral being, who is indif- ferent to virtuous conduct, if not enthralled by a degrading necessity, is just at the point which separates servitude from fireedom, and is lost to virtue, if not abandoned to vice. To consider indifference as necessary to freedom is to forget a first principle of the right mode of philosophiz- ing, and to borrow our conceptions of moral beings from the equilibrium of a balance, and not from the nature of the beings themselves. The more firmly and immutably a moral agent is at- tached to moral rectitude, the greater is his mo- ral power and the greater becomes his moral li- berty. We say of our friend, whose character we admire and on whose firm and unwavering principle we rely with perfect confidence, that he cannot commit such and such a crime ; and we well know that the strength of his generous and pious feelings rendei-s any act of meanness mo- rally impossible ; but that, in given circumstances, he will, with absolute certainty, act in a manner becoming himself. If it be otherwise, it is a proof of his weakness and degradation, and of the moral imperfection of his present condition. The INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. HQ conduct of the Deity alone, as possessed of infi- nite physical, moral and intellectual power, and, therefore, infinitely free, is immutably determin- ed. Had man, in like manner, kept his first estate and acted upon the law of his constitution, his conduct, with respect to his Creator and his fellow-creatures, had been determined for eter- nity, when, by the inspiration of God, he became a living soul ; and never would he have been, as he now is, enthralled by the galling yoke of a degrading necessity. Mr. Locke, though he did not fully under- stand the doctrine of liberty, was too sound a philosopher, and too well acquainted with human nature, to conceive the fact of existence incom- patible with freedom. " Is it worth the name of freedom," he indignantly demands, " to be at liberty to play the fool and draw shame and misery upon a man's self? If to break loose from the conduct of reason, and to want that re- straint of examination and judgment which keeps us from clioosing and doing the worse, be liber- ty, madmen and fools are the only freemen. But yet, I think, nobody would choose to be mad for the sake of such liberty, but he that is mad already. The constant desire of happiness, and the constraint it puts upon us to act for it, no- body, I think, accounts an abridgement of liber- ty 5 or, at least, an abridgement of liberty to be complained o£ God Almighty himself is under 120 INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. the necessity of being happy ; and the more any inteUigent being is so, the nearer is its approach to infinite perfection and happiness." * This is the true doctrine of Uberty. That the Deity is infinitely wise and holy, and perfectly happy, are matters of fact ; which must be, sim- ply because they are. ** I am that I am," the name by which Jehovah revealed himself to Moses, states the whole doctrine of this necessi- ty. The more any intelligent and moral crea- ture resembles his Creator in these attributes, the higher his perfection and the greater his free- dom. The enlightened understanding and the holy heart truly constitute the freeman. When an intelligent being perceives true what is true, and right what is really right, he is under no neces- sity which is not necessarily implied in the fact, that he is ; and from which, therefore, he can be delivered only by annihilation. But who would be annihilated in order to escape so glo- rious a necessity ? It is nothing but the delight- ful fact, that the Eternal has called us out of dreary nothing to constitute a part, and no con- temptible part, of his moral universe, and to share that intelligence and holiness which form the strength and the beauty of his own moral cha- racter. Away then for ever with the hateful name and doctrine of necessity, dishonourable to God and degrading to man, of which the very * Human Understanding, Book IL Chap. 2L § 60. INTELLECTUAL LIBERTY. 121 suspicion strikes at the root of all the moral worth of the universe, and chokes every generous and grateful emotion. Let the man whom the divine Redeemer has made free rejoice in his freedom, with joy unspeakable and full of glory, knowing that by the grace of God he now is, and hence- forth, secured by the power and faithfulness of his Redeemer, shall he coeval with his Creator. 122 MORAL NECESSITY, SECTION IV. MAN, IN THE EXERCISE OF HIS UNDERSTANDING, IS OCCASIONALLY UNABLE TO REGULATE THE DE- TERMINATIONS OF HIS WILL ; THAT IS, IS SUB- JECT TO MORAL NECESSITY. We have now considered man as an animal, a moral and an intellectual being, and we have found that in all these characters he is possessed of freedom. As an animal or voluntary agent, he is free, because he acts as he wills ; as a moral agent, because he wills as he judges right ; and thus it has appeared that the whole question of liberty is ultimately to be resolved into the plain fact, that man is an intelligent and thinking being. We next proceed to inquire whether his liberty is subject to limitations. As a finite being, his intellectual and volun- tary freedom are of course limited, though not thereby necessarily imperfect and incomplete; for as an intelligent being, he is not conceived to at- tempt, like Icarus, to rival the flight of the eagle, or like the giants, to pile Ossa on Pelion to scale the heavens ; and if he know all that concerns his present and future security and happiness, and is able to execute all his volitions, he enjoys MORAL NECESSITY. V23 a freedom commensurate with his capacity. Moml liberty alone in a perfect finite being, admits of no limitations ; for so long as he retains his inno- cence, he must invariably will as his understand- ing directs, and discharge all the duties which conscience enjoins. But this degree of liberty, in consequence of the derangement which sin has produced in the moral, political, and physical worlds, is not in the present state enjoyed. Ani- mal w^eakness, poverty, the opposition of others, civil tyranny and numerous other untoward cir- cumstances, frequently frustrate his fondest and most approved purposes, and blast his brightest hopes. With regard to intellectual freedom, too, mental weakness, the want of information, preju- dice and many circumstances of a similar ten- dency, often render him unable to perceive truths in which his welfare is deeply concerned. But as neither animal nor intellectual necessity directly involve the momentous distinction of innocence or guilt, nor produce consequences which affect his condition in an after life, nothing more res- pecting them requires here to be said. Moral liberty only is the subject of inquiry. In proving the existence of moral freedom, it will be recollected, we did not attempt to esta- blish any universal principle, but considered it enough to point out some instances in which man is confessedly free, and leave it to be here ascer- tained whether or not this liberty is subject to li- 124 MORAL NECESSITY. mitations. We there illustrated the general and what, had man remained unfallen, must have been the universal law of his moral constitution ; and the object of the present section is to point out and illustrate the exceptions to this law, and con- sider man not as he should be, but as he really is. It has been long a received maxim among philosophers, that the will is always fixed ac- cording to the last dictate of the understanding. President Edwards has clearly stated, and the analysis of volition formerly given proves the correctness of his views, that the only judg- ment which uniformly accompanies the deter- minations of the will is, that the object of vo- lition is, at the time, the most agreeable con- duct the man can adopt. To render any thing most agreeable, it must become the object of predominant desire ; and since the predominant desire invariably involves volition, that a man prefers, chooses, or judges most agreeable what he wills to perform, must be in- variably true. So far and no farther does the judgment uniformly approve of the vohtion. The action which the man resolves to perform is judged, of all present alternatives, the most con- ducive to his enjoyment ; in other words, he desires it most, and, as a voluntary agent, he necessarily wills it. In cases of moral liberty, there is, besides this judgment, the additional conviction, if the action MORAL NECESSITY. ISo is moral, that it is right; if of a prudential na- ture, that it is most advantageous upon the whole. Whether such a decision of understand- ing or conscience sanctions every vohtion, is our present inquiry. That this question is to be answered in the ne- gative, scarcely any body will deny. No writer, worthy of notice, holds a contrary opinion. All the moralists, from Solomon and Socrates, to the present day, agree in describing and deploring the folly and wilful wickedness of men ; and every one's daily experience must convince him that their complaints are not without foundation. Whenever a man does what he knows to be wrong, he presents an instance of moral neces- sity. I have acted wrong, I have sinned, my conscience condemns me, I should have acted otherwise, are the familiar expressions which state the fact; and we have just, as formerly, to ap- peal to those who use such language to prove the truth of the principle in question, by an ex- planation of their meaning. All that requires to be done, therefore, in this place, is to illustrate the process by which the man is deprived of his moral freedom, and laid under the influence of necessity. By the analysis of volition formerly given, it appeared that the desire, or in cases in which conflicting desires are experienced, the pre- dominant desire of any thing which we believe to be in our own power, constantly involves the 196 MORAL NECESSITY. determination of the will, or nither, in these cir- cumstances, is itself an act of volition. To show then how the will may be determined, in oppo- sition to the conscience or understanding, we have only to consider the circumstances on which the strength of desires depends. If any circum- stance, independent of the understanding, is found able to give predominant vigour to any desire, the same cause, of course, accounts for the existence of disapproved volition. The common error of metaphysicians, observes a celebrated philosopher, who, when he had no paradox to support, nor Christian doctrine to subvert, must be allowed to have been a most acute observer of facts — the common error of metaphysicians, says he in his Discourse on the Passions, has been in ascribing the direction of the will entirely to reason, and supposing passion to have no influence. There are two principal circumstances on which the strength of a desire depends : the strength of the susceptibility, and the amount of perceived good by which it is ad- dressed. Were there no susceptibility adapted to a particular object, it is plain that no percep- tion of it could awaken any feeling ; and it is as plain that the strength of the feeling must al- ways be in proportion to the strength of the sus- ceptibility, as well as to the magnitude of the object which addresses it. These two circum- stances combined determine the strength of any MORAL NECESSITY. 127 desire. A great susceptibility, addressed by a weak motive, may produce as vivid a desire as the most powerful motive, when the susceptibi- lity is weak ; and in every instance, the greatest susceptibility, addressed by the most powerful motive, will necessarily give birth to the most intense desire. That the various susceptibilities of our sentient nature are found, in different individuals, of very different degrees of strength, is a truth familiar to all. It is this which is the cause of the varie- ty of disposition and original character observ- able among men. One man is naturally of an irritable temper, a second timid, a third compas- sionate, a fourth prone to sensuality. This dif- ference in the natural strength of some of the sus- ceptibilities does not always imply a like difference in all, which would constitute superior strength of character ; but in the same mind, one susceptibi- lity is strong, another weak ; and generally, on ac- count of the moral corruption of human nature, the virtuous and higher susceptibilities are too feeble, while the vicious and animal propensities possess an undue degree of strength. To prove and il- lustrate these facts, the slightest knowledge of human character, or of the moral condition of men in every age, will suffice. Vice has hither- to been more prevalent than virtue ; and while comparatively few have been eminently distin- guished by the latter, myriads have been sunk to 128 MORAL NECESSITY. the lowest degree of moral degradation by the former. But leaving this subject to the moralist, the fact of various susceptibilities of feeling and passion being found in very different degrees is undisput- ed. Let two men then of equally correct and well informed judgment, but having any suscep- tibility in different degrees of strength, contem- plate any object addressed to that susceptibility, and it will be seen how far the vividness of feel- ing depends upon the understanding. With the same judgment of the intrinsic magnitude of the motive, the one may experience the livehest emotion or be excited perhaps to passion, while the other may remain unmoved. Let the same individuals of dispositions so contrary, contem- plate another object addressed to another suscep- tibility, and their experience may be just the reverse. Such instances are not uncommon in daily life. And in all such cases, the difference in the strength of the susceptibility is the sole cause of the variety in the vividness of the feel- ing to which it gives birth. A thief may have the love of money so strong, and the feelings of conscience so seared ; or the man of strict inte- grity may be so moderate in his desire of wealth, and have the susceptibility of moral disapproba- tion so keen, that the perceived importance of the motive, addressed to both, would have com- paratively little influence in determining the rela- MORAL NECESSITY. 129 live strength of tlie desire which is produced. A shiUing will prove a greater temptation to the one than the largest possible sum to the other, though both individuals may differ little in their estimate of the real value of the object. The rich miser may accept the bribe which the man oppressed with all the evils of poverty and want would reject with indignation. In all cases of this nature, the judged value of the object is but one, and often the least im- portant of the circumstances which determine the strength of an external motive, and enable it to excite desire. The strength of the suscepti- bility is the principle source of its power. The man indeed may judge the thing highly valuable, and certainly most desirable, but it is only from its adaptation to gratify his violent passion, and not from the perceived and intrinsic value of the object itself; in the same manner as a man dis- tressed with hunger strongly desires food, and therefore attaches a high value to that which ap- peases his craving appetite. The judgment, in such a case, is not the result of an enlightened understanding, estimating things as they really are, but of a depraved susceptibility and an imperious passion, over which, it may be, by a course of vicious indulgence, the man has lost all control. This (act then of the undue strength and weakr ness of certain susceptibiUties lays a ground for 130 MORAL NECESSITY. the will's being determined in opposition to the understanding. But though it explains the man* ner in which the volition may be at first fixed, it does not account for all the satisfaction with which disapproved volitions are usually attend* ed. The consciousness of willing what we con* demn naturally gives rise to the feeling of dis- approbation, and to other painful feelings which, even in the most depraved mind, are scarcely ever altogether extinct; and were there not another principle in human nature which delivers us from this uneasiness, we would much less fre- quently feel satisfaction in the commission of what we know to be wrong, and imagine that pleasure can be the attendant of guilt. The principle to which I now allude is the fact, that every sensation or feeling draws the attention of the mind towards its object ; and when therefore a number of feelings are present together, the most vivid secures to its object the greatest share of the attention. This is just the principle which we formerly noticed, under what we took the liberty to term the sentient law of Association, Though now, in consequence of the moral corruption of human nature, it is, like 9.11 our other powers, frequently perverted, it is evidently calculated to serve most important pur- poses in the economy of mind ; and is, as was hinted before, the principle by which the wisdom of our Creator has put the thinking powers, to a C^rtmn extent, under our voluntary direction, MORAL NECESSITY. 131 The principle itself is familiar to all. Every one must have felt how irresistibly his mind is drawn towards any object which strongly engages his affections. In some cases, as in that of violent love, the mental abstraction is proverbial. The mind, though powerfully solicited by numerous present objects, finds itself carried away, by agen^ tie but irresistible influence, towards the beloved object which occupies the heart, and in the men- tal contemplation of it, finds the whole attention engrossed, to the exclusion of every other sub^ ject of consideration. This principle then, combined with the undue strength of certain susceptibilities, accounts for the anomalous fact, that the volitions of a rational being are occasionally fixed without the sanction of the understanding. Let two susceptibiUties of an opposite tendency, one of which is strong and the other weak, be addressed by their proper motives, and observe the result. Two conflict- ing feelings are instantly aroused, the one lively and the other languid, and both solicit the atten^ tion of the mind. The .stronger one, by the principle last described, secures to its own object a greater share of the attention, and in the same proportion withdraws it from the object of the feeling by which it is opposed. It thus obtains a double advantage in strengthening itself and weakening its rival ; and as soon as one of the incompatible motives gains the decided ascend- 132 MORAL NECESSITY. ancy, the volition is fixed and action follows of course.* With this process every one who has been in the habit of reflecting on the operations of his own mind must be well acquainted. By the man of sanguine temper, especially, it must have fre- quently been experienced to his cost. Though perfectly convinced of the impropriety, or rather sinfulness of the undue indulgence of passion, and how degrading to his character and hurtful to his interests its gratification must prove, and though determined by every interesting and powerful consideration to check its impetuosity ; let some sudden provocation be offered him, and his settled judgment and previous resolutions prove feeble barriers against the rising emotion. The feeling of resentment instantly springs up, his attention is engrossed, other considerations are overlooked and excluded, he looks only at the injury which has been done him, and judg- ing from his partial view of the circumstances, resolves to take a step, against which all his vir- tue and prudence had combined to guard him, and which perhaps he will never cease to regret. In many cases of violent passion, the general principle holds true, that the man acts upon the decision of his understanding. By the influence of the principle stated above, he takes a partial # See the adnoirable views of Locke on this subject, Note E, MORAL NECESSITY. 133 viewofllie circumstances and consequences of his conduct, and forming his judgment on that alone, he seems to himself to act as rational a part as when, in the season of deUberate thought, he exercises all his powers, and calmly exa- mines all the relations and consequences of his conduct, before he form his resolution. This is true, however, only when the passion is extreme- ly violent, and when the man has lost all self- command. In the great majority of instances of moral necessity, the individual retains the use of his reason so far as to see clearly enough, that his conduct is wrong ; while, by tlie prevailing power of the disallowed feeling, he is hurried for- ward to gratify his desire, though its gratification is mingled with the painful feelings arising from self-reproach and conscious guilt. His conduct is wrong, he will acknowledge, at least to him- self if not to others, — it is foolish, it is absurd, it may prove ruinous ; but it is the most agreeable, and he is resolved so to act. This is indeed the only reason which can, in every instance, be given. The action is the most conducive to his present happiness ; and man, as a voluntary agent, is determined to perform it. This being his resolution, he naturally favours the principle of sentient association, and endeavours to shut out all better considerations, which to him at the time are necessarily painful ; and when he suc- ceeds in having his attention completely engross- ed with the sinful desire, its gratification affords i34f MORAL NECESSITY. iinmingled enjoyment. Such pleasure, however, in a mind not wholly depraved, is dearly pur- chased by succeeding pain. When the forbid- den passion is extinguished by gratification, the mind recovers its self-possession, considers all the consequences of th^ action, and calls forth the feeling of remorse, as the immediate avenger of guilt, and as the solemn and awful monitor of the tribulation and anguish which, by the law of our constitution as well as by the law of God, are due to acts of moral transgression. To these principles is chiefly to be attributed the well-known infatuating influence of passion ; but there is another fact which, as a source of hu- man delusion, deserves notice in passing. After a violent passion, gratified without the approba- tion of the understanding, has subsided, remorse and penitence, in minds not hopelessly depraved, generally succeed. In these moments, a man is filled with horror at the moral turpitude of his conduct, wonders how he could act so foolish a part, and believes that were he again exposed to the same temptation, he would not fail to resist it with success. This is not altogether a delusive feeling, as Lord Kaimes imagined. Though the external motive should* remain the same, or be- come more powerful, the state of the mind has undergone so considerable a change, that there is frequently no probability that were the same temptation again presented, it would really pre- vail. A man smarting under the remorse and MORAL NECESSITY. 133 sliame which a fit of resentment has brought up- on him, willj with serenity and dignity, sustain an injury much more galHng than that which, a httle before, he deemed intolerable. Hence, in the seasons of repentance, men consulting their present feelings alone, without considering the changes which take place in their minds, conceive it impossible that they should ever again commit the offence which they so keenly regret, and form resolutions to that effect. These purposes are, at the time, perfectly sincere, and are supported by moral power sufficient to carry them into ex- ecution. It is not till time has produced a change in the mental circumstances, by allaying the feel- ings of penitence and regret, and by restoring the susceptibilities of an opposite tendency to their wonted vigour, that the man discovers, that his most resolute purposes rest upon no surer foun- dation than mutable and transient emotion. Let the sensualist rise from the couch on which he has suffered for his intemperance, and on which perhaps, in the view of death, he uttered the most ardent vows and conceived the strongest resolu- tions, and be once more exposed to the tempta- tion which he fondly believed could never again prevail, and he finds himself, as before, placed un- der the same irresistible law of moral neces- sity. Moral necessity, it is to be recollected, is so called merely from the difference of the subjects, 136 MORAL NECESSITY. and not from any essential difference which sub- sists between it and the necessity usually termed physical. They both depend on the same prin- ciple of causation ; and are equally absolute and certain in their results. The common belief of the difference which is imagined to subsist be- tween them is a mistake, in consequence of the multiplicity of circumstances on which moral effects depend. Moral causes, that is, moral agents acting in certain circumstances, are con- nected with their effects as indissolubly and in- variably as cause and effect are universally ac- knowledged to be in the physical world; and it is in this indeed that all their power consists. This truth, however, as was formerly seen, lays no foundation for the absurd and unchristian doc- trine of fatalism. Intelligent agents, as shall after- wards appear, have the power of altering the cir- cumstances, and hence of varying the effects in the manner which they judge proper. With regard to the degree of moral necessity^ if the certainty of the result is alone considered, no gradations are conceivable. Every cause pro- duces its effect with absolute certainty. Though, in popular language, we talk of chance and con- tingency, when we mean nothing more than that the cause of a particular event is unknown to us, we never imagine that any effect takes place without a cause, or that a cause, when left to operate without opposition, does not involve the OF THE MORAL NECESSITY. /?TT JT T TT^fCfc S I T Y absolute certainty olM:he effect, fl^^t^iile, ifty . v^\^^ this sense, there can be no degrees eitfter of li- berty nor necessity, in another, and in the pro- per sense, they are capable of gradations. Com- parative power and weakness are the sources of these two contrary states ; and as the former are confessedly possessed in very different degrees, the same is true also of the latter. A man who endeavours to remove an obstacle which offers resistance but a few pounds greater than the ut- most degree of his muscular strength, is subject to a less degree of necessity than he would be, were he to attempt to change the site of a moun- tain. A little mechanical ingenuity would gain his purpose in the one case ; no possible con- trivance nor effort could enable him to gratify his desire in the other. In like manner, a man is under a much higher degree of moral necessity, when hurried away by the overwhelming vio- lence of some habitual and confirmed passion, than when he is gently and softly drawn by the influ- ence of a desire, which is powerfully opposed, and all but overcome by another motive which his judgment approves. In the one case, no ar- gument nor motive has any power to check the impetuosity of the guilty passion ; in the other, the sight of a friend, the least hint, the view of a landscape or a picture, or any other circum- stance the most trivial, will divert his attention, and change his scarcely formed purpose. The original ground of moral necessity is laid, 138 MORAL NECESSITY. as has just been stated, in the fact that, in con- sequence of the moral corruption of our nature, the animal susceptibihties, and those of a vicious tendency are too strong ; while those of a virtu- ous and religious character are too weak. A number of circumstances combine to strengthen the causes of moral servitude 5 but as we can- not here enter into detail, it may be enough to mention what is usually termed hahity as the chief circumstance in which all the rest unite their in- fluence. By the expression, habit, or the influ- ence of habit, is meant merely the fact, that any faculty often exercised, or any susceptibility or feeling frequently indulged, acquires a greater degree of strength ; while on the other hand, a faculty and susceptibility neglected, or a feeling frequently suppressed, loses its original power. This fact is a general law of the human consti- tution, regarding man as an animal, an intelli- gent, and chiefly as a moral agent. It is not an original faculty as Dr. Reid imagines, but a fact which regards all our faculties ; nor is it, according to Dr. Brown, to be reduced to simple suggestion ; for it regards man in all his capacities, bodily as well as mental, and not merely as a thinking and sentient being. In a being infinite in all perfection, the influ- ence of habit, of course, can have no place. It seems the law of our constitution, by which the Deity has provided for the progressive improve- ment of his finite creatures in intelligence and MORAL NECESSITY. 139 moral worth. But though originally designed and admirably calculated to raise mankind in the scale of being, when perverted and abused, as was remarked respecting another law, it ne- cessarily secures their intellectual and moral de- gradation. By the influence of this principle, there is no resting place in the progress of a mo- ral being like man : — he must either advance in knowledge and virtue, or gradually sink into a state of mental imbecility and moral worthless- ness. Let a man then repeatedly indulge any vicious propensity, in opposition to the dictates of his conscience, and habit begins to exert its influ- ence. The vicious susceptibilities and passions acquire new strength, and the feelings of disap- probation and remorse, and others of a virtuous tendency are, in the same proportion, weakened. Let the process go on for a length of time, and the sinful passion grows beyond all control, the conscience becomes seared, and all the barriers, which, by our constitution, have been raised against the encroachments of vice, are gradually broken dowp. In proportion as the vicious sus- ceptibility becomes acute and the feeling result- ing from it strong, the susceptibilities and feel- ings of an opposite tendency are weakened ; and thus, while the man naturally finds greater enjoyment in the indulgence of the guilty passion, he loses his power to resist its influence. In the 140 MORAL NECESSITY. beginning of his career, the sinful desire was per- haps so nearly counterbalanced by his better feelings, that had he been placed in more favour- able circumstances — a little less exposed to temptation, a little better instructed, and asso- ciated with companions of a different character, the feeling, which has now become the ruling passion, might have been completely suppressed by better principles, and have never overleaped the bounds of duty. He was then almost in that state of indifference, which if not liberty, as has been most falsely supposed, is the turning point between liberty and necessity. Habit would have inclined the almost even scales either way, and might easily, by the attention of others in conveying instruction, and guarding the in- dividual from temptation, have turned the beam to the side of freedom and virtue. Vicious in- dulgence quickly effects his complete enthral- ment ; for it is a lamentable truth that, in the present state of human corruption, habits of vice are much more speedily formed than those of virtue. A guilty passion soon usurps the domi- nion of the heart, and suppresses and extin- guishes every better feeling by which it could be opposed ; and then with respect to that passion, the moral feedom of the individual is totally, and so far as depends on human power, hope- lessly lost. In this process of moral degradation and en- MORAL NECESSITY. 141 thralment, the judgment is weakened as well as the approved susceptibilities and feelings. We forbear to inquire whether, as the ground of the well known maxim, what we desire we easily be- lieve, the will exerts any influence upon the un- derstanding, in the same direct manner that the understanding acts upon the susceptibilities, in the excitement of feeling and emotion. Though there are some curious facts which might seem to support the affirmative, it appears, after careful examination, improbable that it does ; and the principle of sentient association alone seems suffi- cient to account for all the phenomena.* But whether or not the will exercises any direct in- fluence over the understanding, every one who has cultivated his mind by the study of any science is aware, that the intellectual powers are subject to the influence of habit. As by frequent * " Intellectus humanus luminis sicci non est ; sed accipit infu- sionem a voluntate et affectibus : id quod general ad quod vult scientias. Quod enim raavult homo verura esse id potius credit. Rejicit itaque difficilia, ob inquirendi impatientiam ; sobria, quia coarctant spem ; altiora naturae, propter superstitionem ; lumen experientiae, propter arrogantiam et fastura, ne videatur mens versari in vilibus et fluxis ; paradoxa, propter opinionem vulgi ; denique innumeris modis iisque interdum iraperceptibilibus, afiec- tus intellectum imbuit et inficit." — Nov. Organuniy Aphor. 49. It is to the principle of sentient association that all these eflPects are to be ascribed. This principle alone will explain how it happens that, in the warmth of controversy, men equally candid and up- riciht take very different views, and support very opposite opinions; and any one acquainted with this profound and admirable apho- rism of Bacon, will not conceive every man dishonest and a villain, who, in such circumstances, when a variety of feelings are excited, acts an uncandid, and, it may be, a dishonest part. 142 MORAL NECESSITY. exercise in the contemplation of any class of truths, the intellect acquires a vigour and acute- ness which at first it may have seemed impossible to possess, so by the want of cultivation, it loses its original energy. No man can habitually in- dulge any criminal passion without, in a great measure, discarding the consideration of right and wrong. Perceptions of this nature are the certain source of uneasiness, and the less fre- quently they are possessed the greater will be his enjoyment in the commission of crime. He will not therefore recur to them unless when forced upon his attention from without ; and thus habit will be allowed to exert its full influence. Hence his moral perceptions will become feeble, confus- ed and obscure. And though it does not appear that the understanding, when not destroyed by insanity, can be rendered altogether insensible of moral distinctions, the perceptions of right and wrong may be rendered so feeble and indistinct as to be practically inefficient. And besides the usual influence of habit, sensual indulgence pro- duces an effect on the understanding similar to that of old age. A sort of mental palsy seizes the intellect of the habitual debauchee, and he becomes incapable of forming any large, distinct and vigorous conceptions of moral truths. His enfeebled faculties, no longer directed to their proper objects, by the feelings of which his sear- ed conscience has lost, in a great measure, the susceptibility, and warped by the guilty propen- MORAL NECESSITY. 143 sities by which his heart is possessed, scarcely serve to convince him that there is any real dif- ference in actions except in their effects. He first palliates his crimes and then defends them. The action indeed is not in itself right, he may admit, but, in his particular case, there are so many alleviating circumstances, that surely he is not much to be blamed. He would at once con- demn the same fault in another ; but in that case he considers, it may be, only the aggravations : in his own, the palHating circumstances alone are taken into view. He thus neglects one precept of the divine law, and violates another, till every command of the decalogue has been trodden un- der foot ; and still he sees not how sin should be considered so criminal, and how he can be de- serving of the punishment which God and man have pronounced to be due to moral transgres- sion. Though the conclusion which the Author of the Treatise of Human Nature would draw against the reahty of moral distinctions is not to be admitted, his premises state but the fact, that the grossest crimes, by frequent repetition, seem to the criminal himself to lose their moral turpi- tude. As to all practical effects, at least, the statement is true ; and when the influence of habit is considered in conjunction with the nu- merous feelings, which, in a mind conscious of guilt and determined to persevere in its criminal course, favour and augment its effect, it is not difficult to account for the fact. 144? MORAL NECESSITY. In this manner then vicious habits dry up the very sources of virtue and freedom. A darkened and enfeebled understanding, and deadened sus- ceptibiHties, render the individual incapable, at least to all practical purposes, both of moral per- ceptions and virtuous volitions. The unhappy man though polluted with every crime and loaded with infamy and reproach, appears among men with all the effrontery and composure of a brute ; and it might be doubted whether the degraded being was ever endowed with a moral nature, were it not recollected that, at a former period of his life, he could blush with the consciousness of guilt. Of this he is no longer susceptible; and regardless of the disapprobation of men, and unmoved by self-reproach, he seems to himself to enjoy perfect freedom ; but it is the freedom of the selfish animal, and not of the being who does one thing because it is right, and refrains from another because it is morally wrong. He judges of the nature of actions only by their ef- fects, and he newer Jeels that he has acted amiss, unless his conduct injure his selfish interests and diminish his enjoyment as a sentient being. The distinction of right and wrong, sinful and holy, is to him practically unknown : advantageous and disadvantageous, hurtful and profitable, agree- able and disagreeable, are the characters which all his actions assume. It is not to be supposed that an individual in 7 MORAL NECESSITY. 145 this state of moral degradation, may not conduct himself with all the external propriety of the most virtuous character, or may not discharge all the external duties which morality and religion require. His degradation consists in this, that he is incapable of acting on the virtuous and holy mo- tives which should direct the conduct of a moral agent. Though virtuous and religious in exter- nal conduct, he is nothing but the selfish animal within, endowed indeed with a little more saga- city than the horse and the dog, but acting not more than they on the motives peculiar to moral agency. Like them he acts not because it is right, and refrains not because it is wrong, but from other considerations altogether, different from theirs, it may be, but not more of a mo- ral nature than is the emulation of the horse or the appetite of the dog. And this is true not merely in cases of degraded profligacy, when the wretchedness without indicates the thraldom and turpitude within: in instances of successful am- bition or avarice, the man may possess a charac- ter more estimable than that of the enslaved and abandoned voluptuary, but may, in reality, be nothing more than the intelligent, accompUshed, prudent, selfish voluntary agent, as incapable of the higher moral feelings as the most worthless of the brutal creation. The eloquent and highly gifted statesman, or the merchant eminent for the punctual discharge of every engagement, may. 14() MORAL NECESSITY. with all their seeming virtue, act as Kttle from the feehngs of right and wrong as the most aban- doned criminal, who recklessly violates all the duties of religion and social life. The ruling passions of the characters are different, and cer- tainly their conduct produces very different effects on their own happiness and the welfare of society, but they all follow the impulse of their predominant feelings, equally regardless of the moral nature of their actions, and are equally incapable, from the simple consideration that the thing is wrong, of refraining from any action which they believe conducive to what they deem their paramount interest. When some criminal but advantageous measure is suggested to the prostituted minister of state, he may feel utterly incapable of deciding on the propriety of the scheme, by estimating its moral character, and of rejecting with detestation the idea of serving his personal interest by the commission of a crime ; and if he reject the measure, it may not be be- cause it is wrong, but because he judges some other plan more advantageous and favourable to his views. Whether or not he may be still ca- pable of moral perceptions, he is utterly incapa- ble of acting on the moral feelings, in opposition to the feeblest motive which interest or ambition may suggest. Hence is illustrated the correctness of the statements of the sacred Scriptures respecting the MORAL NECESSITY. 147 moral inability and necessity of man as a religious being. It is not affirmed that man may not ex- ternally yield almost perfect obedience to all the precepts of tlie divine law, for this is admitted. Nor is it maintained that man does not frequent- ly act on virtuous motives which the law of God approves, or is incapable of regulating his con- duct, to a considerable extent, by the feelings of conscience, — doing what is right because it is right, and abstaining from what is sinful merely because it is wrong ; for instances of this sort are recorded, and consciousness establishes the facts. The Scriptures affirm that man, in his present state of depravity, is incapable of acting on the motives by which, as a moral being standing in a certain relation to God, he should uniformly re- gulate his conduct. And when the paramount importance of the relation between the creature and the Creator is considered, and the extent to which man violates the consequent obligation is duly estimated, the general and emphatic state- ments of the word of God respecting human de- pravity will not appear to exaggerate the truth. The relation of man to his fellow imposes duties of an inferior class ; but the gross violation and contempt of them is justly esteemed to involve a high degree of guilt, and to prove the criminal utterly destitute of moral wortli. How much greater a degree of moral corruption and guilt does it bespeak, that the duties wliich man ovv^s 148 MORAL NECESSITY. to his Creator and Redeemer are neglected and violated, not only without regret and remorse in the criminal himself, but almost without excit- ing a feeling of disapprobation in the minds of the beholders. But to illustrate fully the extent of the neces- sity under which man, as a religious being, now lies, must be left to the theologian. It is how- ever but justice to say, in passing, that this im- portant and arduous subject was never more ably treated than by Luther, and some of those illustrious men who were the means of eifecting the Reformation in the beginning of the sixteenth century. In the midst of the profound ignor- ance with which they were surrounded, and which is more unfavourable to the discovery of truth, among the absurd dogmas on this subject held by tlie scholastic philosophers, they clearly illustrated the doctrine of universal causation, and hence, in consequence of human depravity, the moral necessity by which the whole race of man- kind are less or more enthralled. From the ab- surdity of the contingency which virtually denies the existence of the universe, as well as from that of indifference, as essential to moral freedom, which virtually deprives man of his moral nature, they are equally free. They described man as they found him, — an agent possessed of a moral nature, and who hence, in a state of purity, would invariably act consistently with the principles of MORAL NECESSITY. 149 moral rectitude, but who in the state of moral corruption consequent to a fall, would, to a great extent, as invariably and necessarily commit nothing but sin. They did not, indeed, in com- mon with all the philosophers of the age, and perhaps of all ages before, with the exception of the inspired writers, clearly perceive some of the important relations of their subject, and, conse- quently, occasionally seem to make contradictory and inconsistent statements ; but, enlightened and guided by revelation, they always were, what no philosophical writer, ancient or modern, ever was, right in their practical conclusions. And after all the wretched attempts which superficial observation, ignorance, false philosophy, and party zeal have made to refute their doctrine, every candid and careful observer of human na- ture will readily assent to the great truths so skilfully and ably maintained by Luther against the contemptible sophistry of Erasmus, that in man, as he is now found, there is, with respect to God, no good thing, but that it is God who worketh in him both to will and to do of his good pleasure. When then, to conclude this subject, by the habitual indulgence of any vicious propensity, an approved susceptibility and feeling have been weakened, and the feelings which act as oppos- ing motives have been strengthened to a cer- tain degree, the individual is placed, with regard 150 WOHAL NECESSITY* to the approved feeling, under moral necessity. He is irresistibly compelled to will and to per- form what he disapproves and condemns. The arguments and motives which are calculated to arouse his moral strength in support of the decision of conscience, have lost their power ; for the un- derstanding itself may have been rendered incapa- ble of forming vigorous and adequate conceptions of the motives, and their proper susceptibilities may be completely destroyed. In many such cases, it is vain to talk to the unhappy man of the wickedness, the folly, the absurdity, the ruin- ous consequences of his conduct. He may ad- mit most honestly the truth of all your arguments, and in moments of reflection when his passions are laid to rest by satiety, he may feel and de- plore the horror of his thraldom ; but the languid emotions which his deadened susceptibilities are able to produce will, in the season of temptation, be quickly suppressed by the powerful and tu- multuous passions, which opposite motives awak- en. He will feel, as some unhappy men are con- strained to confess, that he cannot do otherwise than he does. In certain circumstances lie truly cannot do otherwise, but is under the ab- solute necessity of committing such and such crimes. The wretched being has sold him- self under sin, to use the language of the apos- tle, and is completely the slave of a master, whom, whether he approve or not, he is compel- MORAL NECESSITY. 151 led to obey. The laws of his constitution, which, if not corrupted, render him strong to obey the dictates of his conscience, now in conse- quence of the indulgence of sinful habits, bind him hopelessly down to the practice of iniquity. As soon may he resist the law of the philoso- phical necessity by which the planets revolve or the mountains stand upon their bases, as resist the philosophical necessity by which he is impel- led to the commission of crime. Tlie prophet correctly states this law of our nature, when he demands, " Can the Etliiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots ? then may ye also do good that are accustomed to do evil."* From this state of degraded thraldom, the Creator of the human soul alone can deliver the miserable being whom habit has confirmed in vice. • Jeremiah, xiii. ^3. 152 DELIVEKANCE FROM NECESSITY, SECTION V. THE MEANS OF BEING DELIVERED FROM MORAL NE- CESSITY AND THE UNIVERSALITY OF MORAL RESPONSIBILITY. From the doctrine of moral necessity, as just stated, an argument is usually drawn against the responsibiUty of the human agent. No being, it is said, can be under any obhgation to work im- possibilities. If man, by his constitution, is plac- ed under the necessity of acting in a certain man- ner and cannot act otherwise, he cannot incur moral guilt. Neither the justice of the Deity, it is contended, nor the moral judgment of man can impute guilt, when there is no power to act in a different manner. Power and liberty to re- ject the wrong and to choose the right must ever form the ground of moral responsibility. The argument here employed is confessedly legitimate, and the conclusion cannot be denied. If any being, without any act of his own, is placed in such circumstances as render all his actions necessary in the proper sense j and has no means. DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. 158 direct or indirect, of delivering himself from tliis condition, he cannot be the subject of moral re- sponsibihty. Such however is not the condition of man. The necessity under which he labours is the result, to a great extent, of his own crimi- nal conduct ; and he has the power, by indirect means, of effecting his own deliverance. The source of all moral necessity is the moral corruption of human nature in consequence of the fall. The strong bias to evil, on account of the derangement of our moral susceptibilities, is now natural to man and is entailed upon him, as an individual of the fallen species. So far a man is not personally chargeable with crime. But the natural corruption of the human heart is the direct cause of but a small portion of the neces- sity under which mankind labour. Their own criminal conduct and their sinful indulgences are the cause of that hopeless necessity, by which they are generally enthralled. Hence their re- sponsibility and their guilt remains ; and they must in justice be chargeable, as moral and in- telligent beings, with the consequences of their own voluntary actions. But it is not on this fact alone that we would rest the responsibility of man. To convince a miserable being, who is impelled by the irresisti- ble influence of moral necessity to the commis- sion of crime, that his own criminal conduct has placed him in this unhappy condition, and that \54f DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. he is therefore still responsible for his actions, establishes the justice of the divine administra- tion in the punishment of moral transgression ; but does not illustrate the glorious economy of mercy under which we now live. The truth which we now wish to exhibit, as the ground of moral responsibility, is, that man possesses the means of delivering himself from the thraldom of moral necessity, and that multitudes actually ef- fect their deliverance. That the same cause, in the same circum- stances, will constantly and invariably produce the same effect, is the general principle of causa- tion on which moral necessity depends. Hence, when a human being has once acted in opposi- tion to his judgment, by the wilful commission of a crime, when again placed in the same cir- cumstances, external and internal, he will uni- formly act in the same manner. To act in a different manner, he must change either his own dispositions and feelings, or avoid the external temptation ; and both of these are, to a certain extent, in his own power. The source of all human liberty, and of the power of man to rescue himself from necessity, is the enlightened understanding. In every in- stance of moral necessity, when guilt is incuried, the man is aware that his conduct is wrong, or at least, is not certain that it is right ; for what is not of faith, or done with the confidence of DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. 155 its being right, must, to a moral agent, be ad- mitted to be sin. When this conviction is not present, the individual is not in a state of moral servitude, nor does he, in the proper sense, con- tract moral guilt. This is the doctrine of en- lightened reason, as well as of the sacred Scrip- tures. The law of Moses expressly provided for sins of ignorance ; and our Saviour himself and the apostles state the same principle. The ser- vant who knows not his master's will, and con- sequently does it not, shall be beaten with fewer stripes than he who wilfully neglects it ; and they who sin without the revealed law, shall be judged by the law of nature with which they are acquainted ; for as another apostle beauti- fully adds, and justly lays down the great prin- ciple of moral obligation, " to him that knoweth to do good and doeth it not, to him it is sin."* A man, therefore, who ignorantly violates a divine precept, is guilty only so far as his ignorance is wilful, and the result of his own criminal negli- gence ; but if, in any case, he is unavoidably ignorant of any law, he does not incur guilt, nor is subject to moral necessity, though he act in opposition to it in the discharge of what he falsely conceives to be his duty. He mistakes falsehood for truth, and is under what w^as termed intellec- • James iv. 17; also Rom. ii. 12. J 156 DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY- tual necessity ; but, as a moral being, he enjoys freedom, and is free from blame. Since, then, in all cases of moral necessity — for it is unnecessary here to mention those cases in which a man, by a long course of profligacy, has rendered himself, to a certain extent, incapa- ble of moral perceptions — the man is aware that he is acting amiss and should act otherwise, it is obvious where hes his power to vary his circum- stances, and prevent the conduct which he con- demns. The intelligent being is free, and is able to devise means of altering his circumstances and of preserving his freedom. He is like a man who finds an obstacle, which he attempts to put out of the way, offer a resistance greater than his physical strength, and who, though he cannot increase his muscular power, can easily, by the aid of a little mechanical ingenuity, apply it in a manner which enables him to effect what he desires. It is true, a case of moral necessity is not altogether analogous to this or any other in- stance of animal necessity, where the will of the individual co-operates with his judgment in carry- ing his purpose into effect; for as a voluntary agent, a man will never spontaneously employ means to enable him to frustrate his own volition. But, besides the fact that the thinking and judging principles are, to a great extent, independent of the will, and act without its concurrence, it is to DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. 157 be recollected that in few instances of moral en- thralment is the will, at all times, determined to act in the manner which the conscience con- demns. The most habitual passion, and parti- cularly the violent passions, as anger, lust, &c. by which men are most usually enthralled, are not always active ; but leave numerous intervals when the individual experiences the influence of better feelings, and is conscious of moral power sufficient to carry into effect the dictates of his understanding. The man is then free, and has the power to secure his future freedom ; and it is not till temptation again occur that he is en- slaved by moral necessity.* When an individual then is aware that he has once been overcome by any passion, he is able either to shun the external circumstances in which he is exposed to temptation ; or by the * The reader will perceive that, in order to obtain a full view of the subject now before us, it is necessary to reason by turns in the character of the philosopher, the Arrainian, and the Calvinist. Neither the sceptical moralist, who talks of the omnipotence of virtue ; nor the Arminian, who descants largely on the power of the knowledge of the sublime and affecting doctrines of Christiani- ty to renovate and ameliorate the heart ; nor the Calvinist, who maintains that the grace of God is all in all in the moral deliver- ance of the human soul, is to be considered altogether in the wrong. Man can do something to effect his moral freedom ; by the know- ledge of Christianity he is enabled to do more, and by the word of God is required to co-operate in his own deliverance; though all natural power, and all use of means, are perfectly nugatory for the great purpose of moral redemption, unless God himself '^ create a clean heart and renew a right spirit within him." 15S DELIVERANCE FIIOM NECESSITY. consideration of virtuous motives, he can cliange, to a very considerable extent, the state of his own mind, and by the strength of his better feel- ings, arm himself against the approaching danger. This accordingly is frequently done. A man of ordinary virtue and prudence, who has fallen be- fore temptation, is careful ever after not to ex- pose himself in a situation which he has formerly found so hazardous ; or if he cannot avoid ex- posure, he endeavours, by reflection and argu- ment, to arouse every motive which may enable him to resist the assault which he apprehends. He shuns the company which has seduced him, he seeks better society, he considers every argu- ment which should strengthen his virtuous reso- lutions, he watches over his own mind, checks every train of ideas, and suppresses every emo- tion which would tend to arouse the desire which before had hurried him into crime. By these and numerous such expedients, he maintains his mo- ral power, and secures himself the enjoyment of freedom. To curb any powerful propensity in this man- ner always produces a struggle with one's own feelings, and in many cases, gives rise to an ar- duous and painful conflict. It is not, however, a hopeless or interminable warfare. Habit ex- erts its influence on the side of virtue as well as in favour of vice. The virtuous feehngs, which at first could scarcely check the criminal desire. DELIVERANCE FKOM NECESSITY. 159 daily acquire new accessions of strength j and the vicious desire, which is habitually suppressed, becomes weak in the same proportion. A strong passion may not indeed be reduced to easy sub- jection, till after years of incessant warfare and the pain of repeated defeats ; but by steady per- severance, the individual will not fail to experi- ence an increase of moral power, by which the agreeable feelings of a good conscience will be less and less embittered, with the uneasiness of an internal conflict. Though the path of recti- tude, to borrow the idea of an ancient moralist, may at first be rugged and difficult, it will by and by become smooth and agreeable ; and the traveller will be convinced, by a delightful con- sciousness, that virtue is its own reward. The feelings of a good conscience are the most de- lightful and exhilarating of all the emotions of which the human mind is by nature susceptible ; and if any thing can add to the joy which they afford, it must be the consciousness of being res- cued from the cruel thraldom of a degrading passion, which was ever ready to hurry the man into infamy and guilt ; and of having obtained the power of successfully directing all the facul- ties and feelings of the soul to the accomplish- ment of wise and virtuous ends, which at once confer true dignity and substantial glory, and secure permanent and unfaihng enjoyment. Among a people enjoying the advantages 160 DELlVEUANCli FROM NF.CKSSITY. afforded by Christianity, it is scarcely possible to ascertain to what extent a man, without the aid of revelation, could maintain his moral freedom, and advance towards moral perfection. Profane history presents some distinguished examples of virtue ; and every man must be conscious that something may be done, by the natural percep- tion of right and wrong. But though individuals, without the benefit of a revelation, have been eminent for particular virtues, it may be doubted whether man, by his unaided powers, does not, in consequence of his natural corruption, uni- formly descend, and not rise in the scale of moral being. It is certainly so with the great body of mankind. The conscience, unenlightened by revelation, can do little more than convince a man of his guilt in acting against its dictates, without being able to furnish motives sufficiently powerful to rescue him from moral necessity, by enabling him to act in the manner he approves. The history of all nations confirms the truth of this statement. While the body of the people may improve in civilization, they sink in moral worth. They cultivate, it may be, some virtues, but they indulge in a greater number of vices ; and hence, by the usual influence of habit, their motion is retrograde, and they rapidly subject themselves to the degrading yoke of moral as well as, it frequently happens, to political servitude. The rude shepherd, who tended his flocks on the DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. l6l Palatine and Capitoline hills, was often a more virtuous and independent character than the admired and applauded imperator, who, in after ages, rode amid the splendour of a triumph to lodge in the capitol the spoils of the vanquished nations. The Christian revelation alone presents mo- tives adequate to secure, to any considerable de- gree, the moral emancipation of mankind. The motives afforded by the conscience, requiring us to love virtue for its own sake, and to hate vice because it is wrong, are addressed to men as unfallen beings, and in that state are no doubt perfectly adequate to command obedience j but they are not adapted to a state of guilt and moral depravity. The motives presented by Christianity are suited to man as a fallen being to be restored, and address all the most powerful susceptibilities of human nature, both in a state of the lowest degradation and of the highest moral perfec- tion. By revealing the future condition of men as vicious or as holy beings, all the strong selfish but natural and lawful feelings are en- gaged on the side of the conscience. The cha- racter and conduct of the Godhead, in the won- drous economy of redemption, addresses all the solemn feelings of conscience itselfi as well as all the benevolent and generous principles which, of all the feelings of the human heart, most powerfully and directly support the principles M 162 DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. of right and wrong. Every susceptibility of our nature indeed is addressed, and every motive presented which is calculated to affect us as sel- fish, as moral, or as rational beings. Did Christianity, therefore, do nothing more for mankind than furnish them with a number of new and powerful motives which reason could not afford, it would be of incalculable service to the cause of human liberty. If men have been found who, with very limited knowledge, and furnished comparatively with few powerful mo- tives, have done so much in subduing imperious passions, cherishing the virtuous and amiable feelings, and preserving themselves, to a consi- derable degree, in a state of moral freedom ; what might not be effected by the honest Chris- tian ? A man, possessing the knowledge of the great doctrines of revelation, and convinced on rational evidence of their truth, has his intellec- tual and moral power vastly augmented ; and, without any supernatural aid, might, by the natural influence of motives, be expected to do much to recover, or at least, to maintain his freedom. The state of some of the modern na- tions of Europe proves such to be the case. Mul- titudes, who are not Christians in the strict sense of the term, feel the practical influence of Chris- tianity more or less, and exhibit a degree of integrity and moral worth vastly superior to the virtue of the Greek and Roman population, in DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSItV. l6S their best times, when, with the exception of the knowledge of Christianity, they were in a situa- tion certainly more favourable to the growth of virtue. The conviction, or it may be, rather the surmise and the doubt that there may be a future judgment and an eternal state of rewards and punishments, imposes a restrahit on the vicious passions of the most abandoned, and gives a sacredness to virtue which, in their eyes, it could not otherwise possess. And the notion, if not tlie firm belief, that the means of salvation and of future felicity have been procured by so* amazing a display of the divine love, and are faithfully put in the power of all, must awaken a feeling of remorse in numerous instances, in which a man altogether unacquainted with Chris- tianity would feel nothing but satisfaction in the violation of the law of God. But these are the effects when the facts of re- velation are scarcely believed, and but inciden- tally considered. Were a man to be thoroughly convinced, as he may be, of the truth of the doc- trines of the gospel, and to receive them in an ho- nest and good heart, that is, sincerely to act upon them so far as he is confessedly able and as mul- titudes of others do, how much might he accom- plish in delivering himself from the dominion of guilty passion ? Perhaps in the character of those who are usually termed legal Christians, we may be considered to have a specimen of what 164 DELlVEIlANCfi FROAf NECESSITY. the belief of the principles of Christianity is able to effect, without divine influence. If there is not supreme love to God, how much correct knowledge and subhme sentiment may there be respecting his character? what clear and vigorous conceptions of the evil nature of sin ? what honest dread to offend ? how much anxiety to discharge all commanded duty? what self command ? what temperance ? what benevolence? Such characters are certainly to be found, as the young ruler mentioned in the gospel. Compare such individuals with the ordinary standard of human worth, and their superiority will appear. It was such a character that in the pure and searching eye of the Redeem- er appeared lovely ; and it is only when the ques- tion, " what lack I yet," is honestly put and can- didly answered, that it is discovered that men of this sort have not yet reached the perfection of their moral nature, nor are acting on the high principles which- become moral beings aspiring to immortality. These considerations, however, may give us some idea of the extent to which men may pre- serve and extend their moral freedom. But we must not stop here. We should see little of the foundation which is laid for moral liberty, were we to remain within the limits which have been arbitrarily fixed, as the department of moral science. Morality without theology is a non- DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. l65 entity, existing in the dreams of the sceptical philosopher, but is not to be found in human na- ture. Much as a man of enlightened understanding can effect in support of his moral freedom, and to- wards his dehverance from moral necessity, his utmost efforts are far from, being able to obtain any thing like complete emancipation. The agency of the Holy Spirit of God is declared in Scripture, and is proved by the experience of those who most obstinately deny it, to be neces- sary to effect the deliverance of a corrupted and degraded moral being. The Spirit of the same God, who created the thinking mind and heart susceptible of moral feeling, can alone restore the moral constitution, when deranged and im- paired by the commission of sin and by vicious habits. As the utmost skill of the physician can- not repair the constitution of the body, shatter- ed and broken down by disease, though he may check for a little the progress of the malady and mitigate the sufferings of the patient ; so human wisdom, by argument and motive, may perhaps prevent the further enthralment of the moral be- ing, and restore him some degree of moral vi- gour, but it cannot effect a complete renova- tion of the mental susceptibilities, and enable the man to love, with all his heart and soul and mind, the being who of all others is most deserving of his love. To restore the fallen creature to this 166 DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. state of perfection must be th^ work of the spirit of the Creatpr. The man, to use the language of Scripture, must be created anew, — he must be born again and made a new creature, by the 3ame power which at first gave him existence and endowed him with a moral nature. It is not necessary to illustrate further, in this place, this most important doctrine, which, with that of the atonement, constitutes the peculiar glory of the Christian economy. It is enough for our present purpose to be assured, that the 9,id of the Holy Spirit of God is faithfully and truly offered to every individual by whom the gospel is heard ; and that nothing is necessary to obtain it but to ask it from God in prayer. There is no previous change of character, — no reforma- tion of conduct — no moral holiness required to entitle a man to the promised blessing. It is solely for his mercy's sake that God bestows it ; and He offers it to corrupted and sinful beings, not a,s a reward of their virtue and holiness, of 'which they have none, but in order to render them holy and virtuous, which they otherwise never could render themselves. Let a man, as a rational being, be convinced of the matter of fact, th^t he is in a state of degradation and exposed to. misery ; and let him, as a sentient being, de- sii'e to escape suffering and obtain happiness, and nothing more is necessary, by way of motive, to render his prayer such as God will hear. It is DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. 16? tlie atonement of the divine Redeemer alone whicli renders the prayer of fallen man accepta- ble to God. Though there is nothing holy in his motive, and nothing assuredly meritorious, if a man, as a rational being, believe that God is will- ing to deliver him from the wretchedness of mo- ral servitude, and as a selfish being, desire to be deUvered, he requires no other motive to give him a title to obtain his request. His claim is to be founded not in his own moral worth and holiness ; but in the unmerited mercy of God, who delighteth not in the death of the wicked, but who, as a moral Redeemer, will have all men to be saved. It is true that before a rational being can come to God in prayer, he must believe that He eV, and that He is the rewarder of them who dili- gently seek Him ; or, as the same idea may be ex- pressed in refei-ence to this subject, that He is the hearer and answerer of prayer. The belief of the existence of God, as the hearer and answerer of prayer, is the ground of prayer to the rational being, in the same manner as the desire of the thing sought must be its source in the sentient and voluntary agent. Both these states of mind are necessary to give birth to any unfeigned and honest prayer. The desire to obtain the thing renders it sincere ; the behef that God is the hearer and answerer of prayer renders it rational. Without the desire of the thing, prayer is a hy- 168 DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. pocritical form, and without the belief of the promise of God to hear and to answer it, a ra- tional being cannot be sincere in praying to God. These two states of mind combined evidently constitute what, in the language of Scripture, is usually termed faith, and it is interesting to ob- serve the analogy between this and volition. Volition, as was shown, is a complex feeling, re- sulting from the desire to perform an action or attain an object, and the belief that the object will be attained, because we know its attainment depends upon an exertion of our own power. Faith is the similar desire of an object combined with the belief that we will attain it, because the faithfulness and power of God are pledged to be- stow it. The desire is the same in both cases : the belief, in the one case, rests on the know- ledge of our own power ; in the other, on our knowledge of the power and faithfulness of God. With this difference the states of mind are pre- cisely the same. The object of volition is some- thing which we believe to be in our own power j the object of faith is something which God has promised to man. We believe that we shall at- tain the desired object in the former case, be- cause we are able : we believe that we shall ob- tain it in the latter case because God is able and faithful. To give rise then to the prayer of faith, which is the only real prayer, and that of which we have DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. l69 now been speaking, a man must desire what he prays for, and he must beheve, since God has de- clared that they who seek what He offers to be- stow shall find, that he will certainly obtain his request. If a man has not this belief, it must arise from one of two causes, either that he does not desire the thing which he prays for, or that he doubts whether God is faithful and able to bestow it. If he does not desire the thing, his prayer, of course, is feigned, and he has no rea- son to expect that God will hear him ; but if he is conscious of desiring it, he must then deny the ability of God to answer his prayer, or which is equivalent, his faithfulness to fulfil his promise, and then though he may be sincere in desiring the thing, he is not sincere in asking it from God. To render prayer to God unfeigned both states of mind are equally necessary, — the con- sciousness of desiring the thing, and the belief that all who ask v/hat God has promised to be- stow by a general promise to men, will most cer- tainly obtain their request. The general promise of God pledges his faithfulness ; and heaven and earth may pass away, but they who ask shall find. It is true, as was remarked respecting volition, that the feeling may not always amount to abso- lute certaintij, but there must always be such a degree of probability as that on which a rational man could act with confidence in any ordinary 170 DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. transaction. This is indispensable even in in- stances in which it may seem least necessary. The beggar who sits by the way-side could not be rational or sincere, but must be in jest, were he to ask an alms from an incidental passenger, without any hope of obtaining his petition. Unless a man, convinced by rational evidence of the power and faithfulness of God, present his prayer with a probability of success at least equal to that on which he could act without he- sitation in temporal affairs, he may desire the thing for which he prays, but he cannot be honest in asking it from God. His prayer is a mere form, irrational as well as insincere, and though it may conveniently serve the purpose of sup- porting the decent ceremonial of religion, and enable the man in office to earn a comfortable livelihood, it is detestable in the sight of the searcher of hearts, and though he make many prayers the Lord will not hear him. The conclusion to which we have been natur- ally led, by the analysis just given, is exactly conformable to the doctrine of the sacred scrip- tures. ** Let a man ask in faiihy^ saith the apostle, " nothing wavering ; for he that waver- eth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed : Jbr let not that man think that he shall receive any thing of God*^^ Our bless- * James i. 6, T. DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. I7I ed Redeemer states this doctrine more explicit- ly and fully. " Wherefore I say unto you, what things soever ye desire when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, (or that ye shall receive them,) and ye shall have them,*^* This passage contains the whole philosophy, most admirably stated, of the doctrine of faith and prayer. The desire of the thing, and the belief that God will bestow it are, on the principles of the human constitution, absolutely necessary to give birth to any prayer which is not, even at best, an un- meaning form. It is a mistake to conceive, as some have imagined, that the faith which our Saviour here describes, is that extraordinary sort called the faith of miracles ; for it should be re- collected that all sorts of real faith differ only in their object, but not as states of mind. The faith of miracles has the performance of a miracle for its object, saving faith has justification, and the faith of which we have been speaking has sanctification ; but as states of mind, the desire and belief must be found in them all. Specula- tive or historical faith is the belief of facts or doctrines without any desire to obtain the objects which they reveal. The cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word and suppress the good desires to which it should give rise.t * Mark xi. 24-. t Faith, the Christian may object, is the gift of God, and the argument given above seems to suppose that a man of himself is 172 DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. Let a man then, who is groaning under the physical evils of moral necessity, desire to be de- livered — not because he hates sin for its own able to believe : how are these things compatible ? This is an ob- jection which every honest and well informed believer should be expected to urge ; and to which I rejoice to be able to present a satisfactory answer. If there be a plain doctrine in Scripture it is, that the faith which constitutes a man a Christian is the gift of God ; and if any pretended philosophy should teach otherwise, the plainest believer, with the Bible in his hand, may boldly pronounce the philosophy false and its conclusions illegitimate. Faith, as a general state of mind, is one of our most ordinary and universal feelings ; and it is acted upon by the statesman, the agriculturist, the merchant, and indeed by mankind universally in all their transactions which regard the future. In all of them there is a desire of something and a belief of its attainment, as the principle of action to a rational and voluntary agent. The mer- chant desires payment of his account, and knowing the ability and honesty of his customer, believes that he shall receive it, and thus presents an instance of strong faith. From the mere circumstance then that a man has faith, nothing can be inferred respecting his true character in the sight of God. This, it is plain, must be as- certained, not by the general nature of faith, but by its specific character, which depends upon the object, or which is equivalent, upon the nature of the feeling which accompanies the belief. Ac- cordingly the apostles are very careful to specify the nature of the faith which is peculiar to the Christian. It is faith which work- eth by hve. And it so worketh from the circumstance, that the sinner, feeling himself hopelessly undone and knowing the power and faithfulness of the Redeemer, has trusted on Him for righteousness and strength ; and hence, he loves God because He first loved him. Such is not the specific character of any faith besides. The faith of the natural man, of which only we have been speaking above, may be characterized as the faith which worketh by fear ; in as much as it arises principally from the fear of punishment, or, at best, from the consciousness of guilt. This feeling a man must experience before he will ever have recourse to the Redeemer, or DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. 173 sake, or loves holiness, but because he fears suf- fering and desires happiness, present his prayer to God, beHeving that he will receive his request, and he shall prevail. The power and the faith- fulness of the Most High secure the fulfilment of his promise. The desire of the petitioner may be languid, and his belief weak, and hence his faith feeble ; but God is waiting to be gra- cious, and is more ready to answer than he is to ask ; and if he only really believe, according to employ the means of grace ; and it is a matter of fact that it is ex- perienced every day by multitudes, who notwithstanding do not become believers. But when the gospel is clearly and distinctly presented to a man, he has no encouragement from God, and no promise in Scripture to warrant him to expect any further blessing, unless considering the truths and evidence which are laid before him, and acting upon such feelings as he has, he seek the aid of the Holy Spirit which the gospel offers. He must act upon the faith which worketh hy fear, in order to have wrought in him by the power of the Holy Ghost, the faith which worketh by love; and in so doiri-r, he does nothing more difficult, and certainly nothing more holy, than is done every day by one man trusting to another. Hence numerous passages, which speak both of the agency of man and of God in the work of moral renovation, are easily explained ; as the following — " But as many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name." — John i. 12. — The receiving and be- lieving seem to refer to that natural faith, consisting of rational conviction, such as many of the unconverted Jews possessed, that Jesus was the Messiah, attended with a desire to obtain from Him salvation. The power to become the sons of God, which was conferred in consequence of this, seems to imply that renova- tion of the Holy Spirit which converts the selfish, natural faith, which worketh by fear, into that confiding, holy, purifying faith which worketh by love.— See Note E. 174 DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. his faith shall it be done unto him. If he do not obtain his request, it is because he denies the power or the faithfulness of God. Though there is nothing holy in his motive, but rather the re- verse, inasmuch as it falls far short of the mo- tive which should actuate a moral being ; it is the distinguishing glory of the Christian econo- my, that the means of grace are suited to man, as a fallen creature who can merit nothing by his moral worth, but who has every thing mo- rally good to receive fjom on high. It is not of perfect, but of fallen men, and of the prayer which they are able to offer, that the Saviour speaks, when by so affectionate and forcible an argument, he seeks to encourage confidence in God. " If a son shall ask bread of any of you that is a father, will he give him a stone ? or if he ask a fish, will he for a fish give him a ser- pent ? or if he ask an egg, will he offer him a scorpion ? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those that ask him ?"* With regard to what the Holy Spirit of God does in renovating the heart of man, nothing can be said; our knowledge extends only to the feelings and actions, which the man, in conse- quence of divine influence, is enabled to perform, and not to what the Spirit does to the man. Re- •Lukexi. 11— IS. DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. J 75 specting these moral effects, the sacred scriptures afford the most ample information. But we may remark, in this place, that they are all produced by means of argument and motive, according to the established laws of mind ; and in a degree which leaves room for the influence of habit. A man must not wildly imagine that by one act of faith or by a few prayers, supposing them to be honest and to be truly answered, that he will obtaiil complete deliverance from the thraldom of guil- ty passions, and procure such a degree of moral power as will enable him henceforth, without further divine aid, to maintain his freedom. Divdne strength is given, like the heavenly manna to the Israelites, day by day, according to our wants, and must be sought by daily and habitual prayer. The man must pray literally without ceasing ; not indeed with the audible utterance of words, but with that constant dependence on God which constitutes the essence of prayer. By this means he will be gradually delivered j and in his progressive advancement towards the perfection of his moral nature, he will experience the truth of the maxim of the apostle, " where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is hberty." Hi^ moral power will be daily augmented, or as the Psalmist expresses the same idea, his heart will be enlarged, and he will with ease and joy run the way of God's commandments. An under- standing enlarged and enlightened with moral 176 DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. truth, and approved feeling ever ready and able to support its dictates, will produce a peace and a joy of heart M^hich the slave can never experi- ence, and which will afford the most convincing and delightful of all proofs, that God, whose will is the law of the universe, created man to be free. Political freedom, which men have so ar- dently sought, and for which they have sacrificed so much, is to a certain extent common to man with the brutes, and is chiefly to be desired from the consideration of its moral effects : the free- dom which the Spirit of God bestows, involves all the important advantages for which political freedom is truly valuable, and secures, besides, our future happiness as spiritual and immortal beings. The man whom God makes free is free indeed. Poor and neglected he may be, and as from the obscurity of the condition in which, ta borrow the beautiful idea of the poet,* divine providence has hid him from the evils w^hicb oppress the great, he feels the yoke of despotism comparatively light, he may as little experience the advantage of civil freedom, in mitigating the toil and poverty to which he is perpetually doomed ; but he is a denizen of heaven, and though excluded from the society of the great ' AoAM.->Heureux qui, satisfait de son humble fortune, Libre du joug superbe ou je suis attache, Vit dans I'etat obscur ou les dieux I'ont cache. Iphigenie, Acfe T. 1 DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. 177 and the court of kings, he has a place prepared for him before the throne of God, and will here- after hold no subordinate rank under the go- vernment of the King of kings. Hence then, to conclude from all the facts which have been stated, appears the ground which is laid for moral obligation and responsi- bihty. The original source of all moral distinc- tions is the moral attributes of the Creator, and the expression of his moral will is the supreme and only standard of duty.* But the immediate source of moral obligation to man is the posses- sion of a moral nature, — an understanding ca- pable of perceiving the distinction of right and wrong, and moral feelings to enable him to fix his volitions according to this distinction. Were the understanding incapable of moral perceptions, or tlie heart not susceptible of moral feeling, the human agent, like the brutes, would be no longer a subject of moral obligation. Although there- fore man has lost a considerable part of his origi- nal moral power, in consequence of the fall, the fact that he retains as much of it as enables him to do something for the preservation of his moral liberty j that the motives which a clear and well authenticated revelation affords enable him to do more ; and above all, that this revelation dis- tinctly informs him how he may obtain the aid * See Note F. N 178 DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. of another to effect for bim his complete deliver- ance, establish his moral responsibility undi- minished, or rather increase it, inasmuch as he now stands in relation to God, not merely as his Creator and preserver, but in the far more en- dearing and interesting relation of Redeemer. His intellectual power is thus augmented ; and though his moral power has been diminished, as an intelligent being, he is amply furnished with the means of restoring it. He is in full posses- sion, therefore, of the two qualifications which constitute a responsible agent — the knowledge of his duty, and power sufficient to perform it. In vain then may the sceptic or the fatalist ar- gue against human responsibility, and from the fact of the universality of causation, infer that actions cannot be otherwise than they are. Such a conclusion, as was formerly seen, proceeds al- together on a mistaken view of the nature of causation. Though every cause produces its effect with absolute certainty, there is no cause, except the all-wise and Almighty First Cause, which may not be resisted, and its effect pre- vented by another cause more powerful. Now in every case of moral necessity, when a man does what he knows to be wrong, there are two opposing causes at work — the understanding or conscience which approves of one thing, and an appetite or passion which prompts the voluntary agent to perform another. And these, it is to DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. 179 be recollected, are not unintelligent causes like the weights of a balance, to which they are often compared j but like two combatants engaged in a conflict, or rather like an intelligent agent strug- gling with blind, unintelUgent matter. The rational and provident being knows the difficul- ties with which he has to contend, and can em- ploy means to overcome them. He is aware that when placed in certain circumstances, and exposed to certain temptations, he will infallibly be brought under the law of necessity ; but he can foresee and avoid those dangers, or previously prepare himself to encounter them without in- jury. He knows the action is wrong, he may know his own weakness, he is aware of the means of escaping the danger, and before the tempta- tion assail him, he is perhaps, as a sentient being, in a state of indifference, and is impelled by no strong feeling to neglect the due precautions. In all these circumstances, and they are all the important circumstances which affect the case, there is no necessity, except indeed the necessity which is implied in the fact, that we must act either in the one way or the other, which is, as was before shown, the necessity or fact of exist- ence, and is the very circumstance on which our liberty depends. We are placed under no neces- sity by God ; for his law commands us to do what we know to be right and forbear what we Mow to be wrong \ and besides He freely and 180 DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. faithfully offers us aid to enable us to perform the one and reject the other. We are under no necessity from our mental constitution ; for in every instance of moral servitude, we do what our conscience clearly convinces us we ought to forbear. We are under no physical necessity ; for we are equally able, in this respect, to act in the one way as in the other. Nor are we under any necessity from our feelings ; for if we have desires which lead one way, we have other de- sires which oppose them, and are able to keep the forbidden desires sufficiently in check, till per- haps, by our guilty imprudence, we expose ourselves to danger, which, as intelligent beings, we may foresee and by precaution escape. In all these circumstances, there is no unavoidable necessity. We may indeed, by a course of cri- minal indulgence, have formed habits by which we are irresistibly overcome ; or we may, by one imprudent and criminal step, be laid under the necessity of taking another ; but this proves our guilt instead of palliating our crime. As rational and moral beings, we are under no irresistible necessity, except that of doing what God com- mands because we judge it right. If we violate this necessity, we not only commit an act of re- bellion against the most High, but we do vio- lence to the principles of our rational and moral nature, or in the strong language of inspiration, we sin against our own soul. DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. 181 Should the fataUst endeavour, by verbal sub- tleties, to evade a conclusion which deprives him of the satisfaction which he affects to derive from the attempt to persuade himself that he never does wrong, it would be easy, did our limits permit, to recal to his attention a multitude of facts which, if they did not convince him of the right and the wrong of his conduct, would, at least, prove to him that, if he were not a moral, neitlier was he a rational being. Besides the fact, that thousands escape from the necessity which he pronounces absolute and irresistible, his own conscience might be appealed to in sup- port of the truth, that in numerous instances, he really had the alternative to act in one way or in another ; and that in indulging one desire in opposition to another of which he approved, he rendered himself criminal and deserving of blame. Should the sophistry of a false philosophy, sup- ported, as all such sophistry is, by the feeUngs of a depraved and worthless heart, lead him to deny the inference of his own demerit, he would find himself, even then, as unable to escape the conclusion as to divest himself of his nature. Did his servant, to whom he had been uniformly indulgent and generous, rob him or knock him down, and as a proof of his respect for the opi- nions of his master and of his gratitude for his kindness, plead in his excuse that he was per- fectly blameless, for he acted not without a mo- 182 DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSIXy. tive and could not do otherwise ; the philosopher would be lost in the injured and indignant man, and he would practically prove, either that he was a moral as well as a rational being, or that he was neither the one nor the other, but was to be truly considered both an idiot and a brute. But on these topics our narrow limits forbid us to enter ; and indeed it is unnecessary. The sophist may bewilder and perplex the reason ; but he cannot alter the nature of the man, and reduce him altogether to the brute which he wishes to prove him. The understanding and conscience, if suppressed at one place, will burst forth at another, and bear clear and decided tes- timony, both to the moral nature of the human species, and to the justice of the Deity. If the corrupted moral being will not readily acknow- ledge demerit in himself, he will often grant it in others ; and while he seeks to persuade him- self that he cannot, by his constitution, act other- wise, and therefore cannot do wrong, he will fondly enough claim to himself the merit of do- ing right, and thus virtually establish the dis- tinction which he affects to deny. He will readi- ly admit, in his own case, the justice of one of the great principles of the divine administration : " Say ye to the righteous that it shall be well with them ; for they shall eat the fruit of their doings."* The counterpart of this he would de- * Isaiah iii. 10. DELIVERANCE FROM NECESSITY. 183 ny ; but he cannot divest himself of his moral na- ture. At one time or other his conscience, in spite of all the argum_ents and fancied demon- strations which sophistry, not philosophy, has ingeniously given, will be able to convince him of the truth of the disagreeable but just and equitable principle, necessary in conjunction with the other to render the administration of a moral government not merely just but merciful : ** Woe unto the wicked ! it shall be ill with him ; for the reward of his hands shall be given him." And how dreadful to suffer the punishment of crime, when tormented with the conviction that it is justly merited. 184 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. SECTION VI. THE INTRODUCTION OF MORAL EVIL. The subjects which have now been briefly illus- trated throw much light on several important doctrines of Revelation ; but it is not the inten- tion to employ them for this purpose at present, but to leave the application, which would neces- sarily lead to a long discussion, to be made in another place. There is, however, one subject so intimately connected with the preceding in- quiries that this Essay would appear incomplete without it, namely, the Introduction of Moral Evil and with it moral necessity. Whence comes evil ? is a question which has been often put ; and it is confessedly neither un- interesting nor frivolous. How, under the go- vernment of a being infinite in power, in wisdom and in holiness, moral evil could be introduced, is an inquiry which cannot fail to be interesting to man groaning, as he does, under its direful effects ; and a satisfactory answer cannot but prove beneficial, both in illustrating and justify- N^ or THx ^^ INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. ll^ ^reJ ^ ^ ^ 1 i oif ing, to his apprehension, the character oi^w^* ^ Deity, and in giving him a juster conception of his own condition, as a fallen creature. Know- ledge on such subjects, if it is to be acquired, must always be useful ; and it is only ignorance, or, which is much worse, science falsely so called, which can prove hurtful to an intelligent being, under the administration of a wise, and just, and merciful Creator. Happily to this important question, if we are content to reason from facts and not from con- jectures, a most rational and satisfactory answer can be given. Our information, it is plain, must be drawn exclusively from Revelation \ and the sacred Scriptures conduct us to a certain point, and give us an account of the introduction of evil into our own worlds and among the race to which we belong, in a manner worthy of Scrip- ture given by inspiration of God. The mistake of most writers on the origin of evil has been in attempting to explain too much, forgetting that, as finite beings, we are perhaps incapable, at least in the present state, of comprehending the whole truth ; and that, as moral and responsible agents, we require to know only as much as con- cerns ourselves — our present duty and our fu- ture hopes ; and above all, that we have no data on which to found any conclusion beyond the history of our own species. While Revelation is fully adequate for all the purposes for which it 186 INTRODUCTION OF EVItr was intended, and is perfect so far as it extends, containing every thing that is necessary for the instruction and salvation of mankind ; it must not be imagined that it contains a complete sys- tem of divinity, or gives a full account of the di- vine administration of the universe. The astro- nomer with his far reaching tube finds a limit to his knowledge, and never imagines that he knows all the universe, because he cannot see any thing beyond the point to which his vision ex- tends ; so the divine must be satisfied to confess his ignorance beyond a certain limit, and recol- lect that, though his knowledge is correct and true, it is still but finite knowledge, and embraces but a small portion of the moral empire of the Almighty. A complete system of divinity, em- bracing the universal administration of God, may be compared to an immense circle, of which we see only a part, and of which the extremities, of course, appear to us to run in opposite directions. Did we imagine that we saw the whole figure, we would necessarily form a very erroneous con- ception of its nature ; and did we attempt to unite the opposite points, we would at once des- troy its perfection and symmetry ; but could we trace out the diverging hues, we would find how they meet at length, with the nicest mathemati- cal precision ; or did we apply the rules of art to measure the portion which we behold, we would immediately discover how beautifully all its parts INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. 18? were related to the whole and to one another. Let us act thus in examining the doctrines of Revelation respecting the origin of evil. We cannot contemplate the whole of the divine ad- ministration ; but let us apply the rule of justice and mercy to all the parts of it which we know, and it will appear that the revelation and law of God is truly, as the sacred writer expresses it, perfect, and altogether worthy of its infinitely perfect Author. Let us acquire the knowledge of the truths which are actually revealed ; or to re- sume the illustration, let us trace the circle as far as we can see it, and when we come to the ex- tremities of the visible part, let us, as sound philosophy requires, rejoice in what we know and be content to remain ignorant of what lies quite beyond the sphere of our knowledge. Let us not attempt to form complete systems of theology, and to reconcile difficulties which, with our present partial knowledge, seem inexplica- ble ; and hence, by our conjectures respecting what is not revealed, limit and explain, or rather explain away, what is revealed. Such a mode of proceeding is repugnant to every sound principle of rational inquiry. It is an attempt to measure the knowledge of the Almighty, by our own narrow capacity — to thrust together, with our babyish grasp, two remote points of that immea- surable circle, part of which we behold shooting forth, like the arch in the clouds, in a curve of 188 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. perfect beauty, bright at every point with colours of equity and mercy, to embrace the eternity of past, present, and future. To guard us against this hazard, two rules are carefully to be observed, in endeavouring to as- certain the nature of the divine administration and the origin of moral evil. First, The charac- ter and decrees of God can be known to us, only by his works of creation and providence, or by the economy of redemption revealed in the sacred Scriptures. Second, If the inferences from facts which take place under the divine ad- ministration, or from any doctrine of revelation, are at variance with any other express state- ment of Scripture, our reasonings, though legi- timate, but proceeding most probably on partial data, must be considered fallacious, and give w^ay to the authority of inspiration. The strict observance of these rules will do much to pre- serve us from error, in the present or any similar inquiry, and will guard us against the presump- tion of fancying that we know all things respect- ing God, as well as from the danger of obscur- ing what is clearly revealed, in our anxiety to explain what is not revealed. Respecting the origin of moral evil then^ among the celestial spirits, the sacred Scriptures afford us no information. We have simply the fact that, at the creation of the world and of man> there was a number of pow^erful spirits in a state INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. 189 of rebellion against their Creator; but how they came into this state we have no account. Any attempt, therefore, to account for the origin of moral evil among them is unphilosophical in the extreme — a subject for the dreams of the poet, but unbecoming the true philosopher and the theologian. We have no information respecting their condition, as moral beings, in their state of innocence, nor of the circumstances in which they were placed, and we know not the endless variety of conditions and circumstances in which moral beings may exist ; and any conjectures respecting them, from the knowledge of our own condition, must be extremely fallacious. The best that can be said of the most plausible ac- counts, which fancy and not judgment has given to the world, is that they may possibly be right, but that there is the highest probability that they are wrong. This is true certainly of almost the whole of them ; for they are directly oppos- ed to the statements of the sacred Scriptures, as well as to sound reason, and could be believed only by a sceptical mind, entangled in the toils of metaphysical subtlety. On the principles of true philosophy and sound reason, we have no alternative but to acknowledge that we are ut- terly ignorant of the whole matter, and have no means of acquiring information. The opi- nion of a distinguished French philosopher, if considered as respecting the origin of moral evil 190 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. generally and not merely, as he states it, its in- troduction among men, contains much sound phi- losophy, and deserves the attentive consideration of every inquirer into the origin of evil. " Se- veral considerations,'' says he, in publishing the second edition of his work, " have struck me which I had not formerly, and which produce in my mind a fresh and stronger conviction than ever, that the best answer which by natural means (and we may add by revelation also) can be given to the question, why has God permit- ted sin ? is to say, I know nothing about the matter."* This is indeed the only answer which can be given J and it is needless to say that there is a vast deal more philosophy in confessing igno- rance, and checking all propensity to enter the regions of conjecture, than in furnishing ingeni- ous and subtle, but false and fanciful solutions of a difficulty. Every tyro in philosophy can in- dulge his imagination in solving difficulties, or rather finds it difficult not to please himself with some fancied solution ; none but a well discip- lined mind, long accustomed to ascertain, with • II m'est venu de pensees, que je n'avois pas auparavant, et qui me convainquent tout de nouveau et plus fortement que jamais, que la meillure reponse qu'on puisse faire naturellement a la ques- tion, pourquoi Dieu a-t-il permis que Thomrae pechat? est de dire, je n'en &9ai rien. Je croi seulement qu'il en a des raisons tres dignes de sa sagesse infinie raais qui me sont incomprehensibles.— Bayh^s Dictionary, Art. PauHciens, Note M. INTRODUCTION OF EVIL, 191 accuracy, the true limits of human knowledge, can say to himself decidedly, on such and such a subject, I will form absolutely no opinion. Let us then lay it down, as a first principle in the present inquiry, that we are totally ignorant how moral evil originated among the fallen spirits ; and remain satisfied with the matter of fact, that at the creation of man, these spirits were actually in a state of revolt against their Creator. Let us suppress every tendency to form any conjectures respecting the manner in which they came into that state ; and especially guard against being influenced by such conjec- tures, in any inquiries respecting the divine ad- ministration subsequent to the creation. To conduct the investigation in this manner, the philosopher has only to reflect that he is totally destitute of the means of information, and that all attempts to solve the difficulties connected with the subject must be, at best, but conjec- ture, unworthy of being deemed, in any degree, even probable. The Christian, to render him satisfied with his present limited knowledge, has the more interesting and generous consideration, that " the Lord is righteous in all his ways, and holy in all his works ;"* and that what he knows not now respecting the divine administration, he • Psalm U5. 19^2 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. i may know hereafter. — Now he sees through a glass darkly ; but then face to face : now he knows only in part, but then shall he know even as he is known.* Our present inquiry, therefore, is limited to the introduction of moral evil among men, re- specting which we have ample and satisfactory information. Man, we are told, was created in the image of God, which, we are taught, consists in know- ledge, righteousness, and holiness. This just states the fact, that he was created a perfect moral being, possessed of an understanding ca- pable of perceiving moral truth, and of a heart susceptible of moral feeling, to enable him to will and to act according to his moral percep- tions. He was thus perfectly able to retain his integrity, by constantly doing what he knew to be his duty, and consequently was rendered a fit subject of moral government. In order to understand the nature of moral government, it is necessary to distinguish the different meanings of the phrase " will of God," so often employed in the sacred Scriptures, and in theological writings. This expression has two very different meanings. It signifies what, for the sake of distinction, may be termed the j)hysical will of God, which always implies the I Cor. xiii. 12. 1 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. 198 exercise of his power ; as when, at the creation. He said, let there be light, and there was light ; when He divided the Red Sea ; and when, at his command, the sun stood still. His will in this sense is irresistible. He doth according to his will in the armies of heaven, and among the in- habitants of the earth, — none can stay his hand from working, or say unto the Almighty, what dost Thou ? The will of God, in its second signi- fication, may be termed his moral will. It im- plies only his moral approbation of certain actions as right ; and hence, his authoritative command to his moral creatures to act in such a manner, and to refrain from the opposite conduct. In this sense, the will of God may be resisted ; and is resisted by every sinner, every time he violates a divine command, and thereby opposes his will to the will of his Creator. Respecting the will of God in these two sig- nifications, it is to be remarked, that the former always necessarily involves the latter, but the latter never the former. Whenever the Deity exerts his power, it is always in perfect consist- ency with his immutable rectitude and holiness ; and all his volitions and all his actions are mo- rally right. Justice and judgment are the habi- tation of his throne, — -just and true are all his ways. Every exertion of his physical will, not less than his law, which is the expression of his moral will, is holy, just, and good. o 194' INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. Of these two wills of God, the moral will only, it is evident, has place in the government of rational and moral beings. His physical will is exerted in the creation and government of the material universe, as it also is in the creation of a moral being ; but after such a being is put in possession of his moral faculties, physical force is no longer admissible in ruling him, except, in- deed, in his reward or punishment in case of transgression. The use of physical force, in the government of moral agents, would do violence to their nature, as well as imply a contradiction in the divine decrees. When God, by an act of sovereign will, created man a moral agent, in his own image. He virtually decreed that, during the whole future eternity of his existence, He would treat him in a way suitable to the nature with which He had endowed him, and neither contradict his own purposes, nor do violence to the constitution of his creature. Accordingly, in the whole history of the human species, no instance occurs, except cases of punishment, in which the Judge of all the earth employs physi- cal force in conducting his moral administration, but treats man always in the high character of an intelligent and moral creature, often con- descends to reason with him as an equal, and seeks, by argument and motive, to enlighten his understanding, and influence his heart. Even in the Christian economy, when divine power is INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. 195 employed to renovate the corrupted moral sus- ceptibilities, the great law of moral government is not neglected. When the gospel is sent to a people, no violence is done to those who re- fuse to employ the means of grace ; for the Holy Spirit is promised to those only who ask his aid. The Creator, then, having endowed the first man with a moral nature, adapted his mode of government to the dignified character of the subject. He simply signified to him his will, forbidding him to eat of the tree of the know- ledge of good and evil ; and having warned him of the danger, left it to himself to obey. Though a finite, he was a perfect being, and completely furnished with all the means requisite to enable him to yield perfect and uniform obedience ; for he possessed an understanding capable of perceiv- ing the rectitude and propriety of the command, and physical and moral power to enable him to act accordingly. Thus, he was provided with the two requisites necessary, as was formerly stated, to constitute a being the subject of moral obligation : the knowledge of his duty, and ability to discharge it. There was no ignorance of wliat was right, nor of the fatal consequences of disobedience ; and no turbulent passions and vicious habits to mislead his judgment ; and he might, therefore, have for ever maintained his innocence, and remained in a state of purity. 196 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. Man, it is agreed, has all along been placed in a state of trial ; and it is usually believed, that the prohibition respecting the tree of the knowr ledge of good and evil was given for the purpose of probation. This was certainly one, but it seems by no means the sole or the principal object of the command. The principal design, it rather seems, was the moral improvement of the being. The influence of habit, as was formerly noticed, is an admirable provision of the Creator to secure the progressive advancement of his finite crea- tures. But had no such prohibition as that regarding the tree of knowledge been given, and had man not been exposed to temptation, com- paratively little opportunity would have been afforded him to exercise his moral faculties ; and, instead of advancing towards a higher state of being, he would have remained for ever station- ary, or rather might have retrograded ; and even retaining his innocence, might have lost his moral energy. The exposure to temptation rendered this impossible. To preserve his innocence, his moral faculties must have been in constant exer- cise ; and thus, while he would daily become a more powerful being, he would enjoy, in the feelings of a good conscience, a pleasure more delightful, and certainly far more ennobling than all the sensual enjoyments, even of paradise. Not only then was the prohibition of the tree of life virtually a promise, as has been often justly INTRODUCTIOiN OF EVIL. 197 Baid, which coiifirined to him, so long as con* scious of obedience, immortality and all the bless- ings of paradise ; but it opened an additional and nobler source of enjoyment in the vigorous exer- cise of the moral feelings, and by his constitution, secured to him the future possession of a higher and more glorious state of being. Thus, the temptation to which he was exposed, instead of being a real evil, might have become a new source of power and happiness ; and the first Adam, as the second Adam has actually done, might have converted the subtlety and wicked- ness of his enemies into the most successful means of promoting the glory of his Creator, and of increasing his own moral dignity and power, till, by the influence of habit, his knowledge and holiness were so much increased as to render him, thenceforth, for ever superior to all tempta- tion, and to fit him for taking his place among the principalities and powers of heaven. But, omitting these considerations, so well supported by the principles of the human constitution, and so illustrative of the goodness and wisdom of the Creator, let us rather view the prohibition given to man as the means of his probation. The individual would not deserve to be rea- soned with, who would deny the right of the Creator to impose upon his creatures any duty which they have adequate power to discharge. The man who requires from another a piece of 198 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. easy service, for which he has given a liberal re- muneration, never conceives himself guilty of injustice; but how much more equitable in the Creator and Preserver of men, to receive from his creatures their just and reasonable service ? The duty imposed on man, so far from being burden- some, was the easiest possible, and greatly less than his moral power might have warranted. His adversary might have been permitted, as he now is, to assail him secretly, by means of his internal feelings ; but the fact, that his duty was embodied in an external object, restrained the power of his enemy to an open attack, and he was virtually secured from assault in every other quarter. Thus man, though possessed of a body, and acting under the guidance of sense, was put on equal footing with all his spiritual antagonists, and enabled to resist their power at a point where their spiritual nature gave them no advantage. So completely was this the case, that the tempter was under the necessity of assuming the disguise of one of the inferior animals, and notwithstand- ing his spiritual essence, was able to employ no invisible artifice, but to make his attempt directly and openly. Let us now see the manner, then, in which man fell from his primitive condition. Satan, we learn, the powerful and* crafly chief of the apostate spirits, was the seducer of man, and the author of moral evil in the world in which we live. Iliere is much in the mode of his INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. 199 temptation which deserves notice, and proves him to Iiave studied carefully the human consti- tution, and to have known well on which side a human being, in a state of innocence, could be most successfully assailed. He assumed, in the first place, the form, or rather took possession of the body of a serpent, in order to draw the atten- tion of the woman, and to be enabled to present her with the interdicted fruit. This creature, by the terms of the curse afterwards pronounced upon it, seems to have undergone some change much to the worse; but at all events, in a state of innocence, before any prejudice existed in the human mind against the reptile, it is easy to con- ceive that it must have been one of the most beautiful, or, at least, the most attractive and interesting of the brutal part of the creation. Its sagacity, its playfulness, its beautiful curva- tures, its graceful movements and brilliant co- lours, could not fail to render it the favourite of the first pair, in a state in which pleasure ra- ther than utility was sought from the inferior animals. By assuming its form, therefore, Satan would most easily secure the notice of his victim, and be enabled in the most graceful and seducing manner, to present her the fruit, which, as a spi- rit, he could not otherwise have done. Whether he spoke from the mouth of the serpent, or sug- gested the ideas as he now does, we are not ex- pressly informed. 200 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL, The attack too was. skilfully directed against the female. From the narrative given us by the inspired writer, it appears highly probable that the woman was not created, when Adam receiv- ed the command to abstain from the tree of knowledge, and that slie therefore received the prohibition by means of her husband. This did not, it is true, lessen her obligation ; for all man- kind, except those who received the law from Mount Sinai, and those who heard the discourses of our Redeemer, are in a similar situation j but it certainly diminished the vividness of the im- pression, which the command might otherwise have made upon her mind. This circumstance, in conjunction with the fact, that she was alone during the time of the temptation, rendered her situation pecuharly favourable to the designs of the seducer. He begins the assault by calling in question the divine veracity and the certainty of the con- sequences of disobedience. This method seems most likely to have succeeded in the mind of an innocent being, unacquainted with deceit. Con- scious of no guile herself^ and prone, as the un- corrupted mind naturally is, to beheve the state- ments of others, she must have been perplexed by a statement directly contrary to what she be- lieved to be the word of God. She still had, however, the divine command to direct her con- duct, and she could not have hesitated which to INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. 201 obey, had not a number of powerful feelings been artfully excited in favour of the assertions of the tempter. Her attention was engrossed and fixed upon his statements, not merely by the senses of sight and taste, but he skilfully awakened the de- sire of knowledge and love of aggrandisement — those powerful principles which seem to have been implanted in the breast of finite beings, in order to accelerate their ascent in the scale of intellectual and moral worth ; and which, in the human breast, particularly in that of the female, exert a powerful influ- ence. There was no want either of intellec- tual or moral power to resist the temptation ; but the one was employed to mislead and neutralize the other. The understanding Was first perplex- ed by false assertions, the sensations and feel- ings were awakened to promote the delusion, and thus, the resistance which conscience and pru- dence would have offered, was eluded. When the mutual influence of the understanding and the feelings is considered, the force of the temp- tation is obvious ; and it is plain that none but a mind of a very superior order could have con- ducted it so skilfully. The indiscretion of the woman consisted in exposing herself in such cir- cumstances, and in once listening to the insinua- tions of her seducer ; but after she had allowed his arguments to influence her mind, and shake her belief of the divine word, or at least with- ^2 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. di'aw her attention from it, she could scarcely fail to be beguiled, as she expressly terms it. While doubting of the divine veracity, and see- ing that " the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be de- sired to make one wise," it is not to be wonder- ed that she took of the fruit thereof and did eat. Her fault was principally in not resisting the be- ginnings of evil, by repelling every insinuation respecting the veracity of God, and in not refus- ing to listen to any one who would dare to call it in question. The first step was not, it might be said, a crime, but rather an act of impru- dence, resulting partly from the weakness and partly from the goodness of her nature ; but it was one of those steps which, as we daily see, smoothly and almost unconsciously lead to crime, ruin, and wretchedness. She was perfectly aware of her duty, and possessed sufficient power to discharge it ; but her own imprudence exposed her to temptation, and the villany and artifice of another hurried her into crime, of which indeed she was as yet ignorant. When the woman was seduced, complete suc- cess was certain. Though the man, less ardent in his feelings, and possessed of a more powerful understanding, could not have been deceived by such artifices, when his wife had fallen, his fall was almost inevitable. The example and per- suasion of one ardently beloved is scarcely to INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. 203 be resisted ; and without unduly indulging fancy at the expense of the simple narrative of the inspired writer, it may be well conceived that tiie man, possessing all the native generosi- ty of his unfallen nature, seeing a person so dear to him undone, and considering only the per- sonal consequences of transgression, would not hesitate to palliate, at least, the crime of the ob- ject of his love, by sharing with her the guilt and the punishment. Such is the simple account of the introduction of moral evil, given us, as it really was, by the Spirit of inspiration. It is the only account which is at once probable on the principles of the hu- man constitution, and consistent with the attri- butes of the Deity, and with the well known phenomena of his moral administration. Satan and man were the sole authors of moral evil ; and of all the three, the seducer was obviously the most culpable. And, accordingly, the pu- nishment denounced against him was the most severe, and that inflicted on them much lighter than they must have anticipated, and which, no doubt, they would have suffered had they sinned more presumptuously. The sentence which se- cured his final destruction was virtually a pro- mise to them, that before they suffered the tem- poral death to which they had subjected them- selves, they might be encouraged by the sure hope of an eternal life. 204 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. On reading the history of the fall given us in the sacred Scriptures, some one perhaps may feel disposed to ask, why was not Satan excluded from paradise ? why were not the primitive pair apprised of the way in which Satan would assail them ? — might not an angel have been sent to counteract his attempt ? and many other queries of a similar nature. To answer these and a thousand such questions, which may be started respecting the most obvious subject, were the purest trifling. Why do the planets revolve from east to west ? it may be asked — why has the earth but one moon ? miglit there not be a greater number of planets in the solar system ? To such inexplicable difficulties and objections, if any one should take a fancy to consider them such, the philosophy of Newton can afford no answer. It can only be said that, as these things are, they are very well ; and that the Creator had no doubt wise ends in view in all his works, though his reasons are utterly unknown to us. The question, in like manner, respecting the in- troduction of moral evil, is not whether the Deity could not have employed a multitude of means to prevent the fall, but whether, in acting as He did, his conduct is consistent with the prin- ciples of justice. It is not how the Deity might have acted ; but how he did act, that we are in- terested to know. He undoubtedly acted in a manner conformable to his infinite wisdom and 0" INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. 205 goodness; but since, with our limited knowledge, we cannot understand nor duly appreciate the wisdom and benevolence of his measures ; the only question to which, as moral agents, we re- quire an answer is, whether He acted on the prin- ciples of equity ? That He acted with perfect equity is evident : He furnished man with the power of resisting temptation, and ap{)rised him of the consequence of transgression ; and on the estabUshed principles of justice, on which men act with approbation every day, nothing more could be required by a moral creature from his moral governor. There was no injustice done to man. He was not sacrificed to any consider- ation of expediency, as has been wildly imagin- ed ; but was treated in a manner perfectly con- sistent with tlie principles of immutable recti- tude. He knew his duty, and was physically and morally able to perform it ; and if he failed, he and his seducer were the sole authors of the crime, and to them alone the guilt is to be im- puted. Moral evil does not arise, as bishop King strangely imagined, " from the very na- ture and constitution of created beings, and could not be avoided without a contradiction;" for that is manifestly untrue, as the condition of un- fallen creatures demonstrates. God made all things at first in perfection : Satan primarily, and then the depraved heart of man have been the authors of all moral evil. 206 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. It is usually taught by theologians, in treating of this subject, that God permits the commission of moral evil : if, by the permission of God, it is meant that He does not interpose his physical power to hinder the perpetration of evil, the doctrine is certainly correct; for this just states the fact, that He governs his moral creatures by moral means, and does not, by the use of physical force, restrain their will and offer violence to their nature. But though in this sense of the term, permission, in which sense, indeed, it is most com- monly employed, the doctrine is confessedly true, the expression itself has a tendency to mis- lead. In speaking of sin and obedience, we have reference to man in his relation to God not as a material being, but as a moral subject; and in this character, God has given no permission to commit sin. The Judge of all the earth can never give any permission to perpetrate moral evil. His immutable holiness renders this utterly impossible. The very constitution of all his moral creatures, as well as his authoritative command, forbids that abominable thing which God hates. The essence of sin consists in this, that it is done without the permission of God, and in direct opposition to his will. God, so far from per- mitting, authoritatively prohibits all moral evil, and by promises and threatenings, and all other means consistent with the relation to which He stands to man, seeks to prevent its commission ; INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. 207 and the guilt of the sinner consists in this, that in spite of the will of God, and notwithstanding all the motives which He addresses to his con- science, his love, his hopes, and his fears, he wilfully commits what his Creator expressly for- bids. We would banish then the expression, God's permission of sin, as having a tendency to mislead us; and state the truth more cor- rectly by saying, that moral evil was at first in- troduced to the world, and that all sins are now committed, by men and by devils, without the permission, and in direct opposition to the will of God. They presumptuously oppose their will, to the righteous and holy will of Him whom the principalities and powers, the thrones and dominions of heaven, find it their glory and happiness to obey. The sinful creature opposes and resists the will of the Creator, in the midst of his own universe; while He, waiting to be gracious even to the guilty, endures it a little, but will finally express his awful indignation in the fearful punishment of the impenitent trans- gressor. Respecting the origin of moral evil, there is another doctrine which is sometimes maintained, on which, also, it may not be improper to offer a few remarks. It is admitted that all sin is in opposition to the revealed will of God, by which man is bound to regulate his conduct ; but it is held that God has a secret will or purpose, by 208 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. wliich He brings about all events, sin as well as every thing else. This is one of the most un- hallowed of those unhallowed attempts to ex- plain what the Spirit of inspiration has not seen meet to reveal. For the sake of adding a little to our limited knowledge, or rather, more truly, to conceal our real ignorance, and gratify our vanity by knowledge falsely so called, this hypo- thesis would deny all the grand truths of Reve- lation, destroy the moral attributes of the Deity, and subvert all the grounds of the Christian's hope. Happily, besides being contradictory to the plainest statements of Scripture, and inconsistent with the facts of the case, it carries along with it its own refutation. If there be a secret will of God, how is it known to us ? Who has heard the secret of God? Hast thou been the counsellor of the Eternal ? Such preposterous attempts to conceal our ignorance, justify the prophet's account of the presumption and folly of man. — Man would be wise though born like the wild ass's colt. It would indeed be un candid to charge those who have held such a doctrine with its blasphe- mous consequences. It would make the God of truth a wise and a subtle being indeed, like the father of lies j but it w^ould deny his holi- ness, his justice, and his veracity — those attri- butes which are no less essential to his nature than is the eternity of his existence, and which INTRODUCTOxV OF EVIL. 209 render it so glorious a trust to all the intelligent and moral universe, that Jehovah, the Almighty God reigncth king for ever. When men wander beyond the sphere of their knowledge, they are necessarily involved in endless mazes of error ; and it must not be thought strange that, when they endeavour to escape one absurdity, they are plunged into another still more absurd. There are not a few to be found who would reject, with indignation and horror, the avowal of conse- quences which are most directly implied in tiie tenets which they hold. But besides the absurdity of attempting to ex- plain facts by principles which are confessedly unknown, the notion of a secret will of God is completely at variance with admitted truths, and with the most obvious doctrines of Scripture. If there be a truth which deserves to be considered an axiom in theology, it is the fact that God is true; and hence, that He cannot declare that to be his will which in reality is not. Since, then, the physi- cal and moral will of God, as was shown above, uniformly coincide, to imagine that God can have a secret purpose, involves the contradiction of hav- ing two opposite wills respecting the same thing. His ways indeed are unsearchable by us, and He may have a multitude of secret purposes respect- ing any object, but all of them must be consist- ent with the will which He has vouchsafed to reveal to us, unless we suppose the manifest con- ^210 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. tradiction of the Divine Being willing against him- self. What, therefore, the Spirit of revelation declares to be the divine will is in very deed the will of God who cannot lie. Let God be true, though every man a liar. His words are pure words, like silver tried and purified seven times. When He declares his will against sin, and so- lemnly prohibits the commission of it, He has no secret purpose to hting it about. We speak not of the impiety of so horrid a supposition ; it is an utter contradiction. The revealed will of God is in reality the will of Him whose ways are all just and true ; and any opposite will exists only in the disordered andcorrupt imaginations of ig- norant and foolish men, who would make God such an one as themselves. He is not a God that hath pleasure in wickedness, neither shall evil dwell with Him. He hateth all the w^orkers of iniquity, and abhorreth the bloody and deceit- ful man. Such men act in most direct opposi- tion to the will of the Most High ; and let them not please themselves with the idea, that God by any secret purpose favours their perpetration of crime. The only secret will, in which they have a momentous concern, is the ti7ne when he shall reward them according to their works, and inflict upon them those tremendous judgments which his revealed word declares to be the reward of sin. It must be admitted indeed, that were one still INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. 211 disposed to hold the opinion of a secret will of God, opposite to that which is revealed, he may derive, from the prescience and foreordination of God, a number of powerful arguments which seem to bring us to the conclusion, that God is the author of evil in a way inconsistent with his known attributes. We check the opponent who would force us into such a dilemma, by remind- ing him, that though his reasonings be legitimate, our knowledge is exceedingly limited, and his premises must surely be partial ; for his conclu- sion is at variance with the statements of Scrip- ture and acknowledged facts. <' God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth He any man" — much less does He impel to sin by some secret exertion of power, as the doctrine of a secret will, if it mean any thing, must imply ; " but every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own hist and enticed."* And lust was not creat- ed by God ; for it is the fruit of our own moral corruption, in consequence of the seduction of Satan. It is true that sin actually takes place under the administration of God ; and since He was the Creator of all things. He has been the author, directly or indirectly, of every event which takes place in his universe. But let us see in what sense He has been so ; and in doing this, let us • James i. 13, 11. SI 2 INTRODUCTIO^f OF EVIL. keep within the limits of our own world, to which alone our experience and information from Scrip- ture extend, instead of wandering, as has been often done, on the dark mountains of vanity, in the world of conjecture. Sin is actually committed in the world, and God has been the Creator of all things, are the facts on which our reasoning proceeds. Were we reasoning on these facts alone, we are forced to the conclusion that God is the author of evil as well as of good ; which is the conclusion at which unaided reason and a pseudo-philosophical theology have usually arrived. The Christian how- ever looks to his Bible, and at once explains the difficulty, and corrects the reasonings of the phi- losopher. One important fact is here left out of the premises. God has been the Creator of all things ; but He created them all very good, and was not the Creator of corrupted man. He creat- ed man morally holy, and perfectly able to remain for ever in that condition. It was Satan alone, acting in opposition to the will of the Creator, who rendered man the corrupted being which he now is ; and who, therefore, with the beings whom he has seduced, is the only author of evil. God, by his act of creation, indeed, gave occa- sion to all the evil which has been produced ; but not in any way repugnant to perfect holiness. It is in the same manner as a man who has rear- ed a house for the accommodation of his family, INTRODUCTION OF KVIL. ^15 is the cause of a burglary which has been com- mitted in his premises. He has been the occa- sion of the crime, but he has been the innocent occasion, and is in truth the injured party : the thief alone is culpable. Had he certainly fore- seen the evil, as the Creator, who knows the end from the beginning confessedly did, he was found to employ every lawful precaution to prevent the crime ; but while he did so, he might still feel it right to prepare a house for his family, and, as a moral agent, he was bound to do his duty, whatever might be the conduct of others. Though he should foresee ten thousand crimes, and the misery of multitudes as the inevitable consequence of his conduct, if the measure be really his duty, he is bound to adopt it without regard to the result. No principle of expediency — no sacrifice of duty, can be admitted by a per- fect moral agent. The only principle which must regulate his conduct is the consideration of the right and the wrong ; and what is right must be performed. The case is precisely the same with the Father of the universe ; for God and man, as moral agents, act upon the same principle. By endowing man with a moral nature, the Crea- tor was bound, if we may so speak, to govern him by moral means ; and the question, why did not God prevent sin ? is a consideration, not of physical power, but of moral rectitude. The reasoning of Bayle and others, who from the 214 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. fact that the Divine Being had physical power to prevent sin, would prove Him the author of evil, is completely irrelevant and nugatory. The question is not, as was said, had He physical strength to prevent evil, but in acting as He did, did He act justly ? Were the physical force of a moral agent to be the measure of his efforts ; how absurd were the consequences ? In multi- tudes of instances, a man certainly foresees that others will commit such and such crimes 5 but he never asks, have I physical force to hinder them, but have I a right to employ it ? If he has not, he is content to employ all lawful and moral means to prevent the perpetration of the evil ; and if these fail, he never feels himself guilty, though multitudes of crimes are commit- ted which certainly he had power to prevent. Were he acting otherwise, he would quickly find himself the most criminal of all those whose crimes he sought to hinder ; and the laws of the country and the common sense of mankind would unite to support the principle, that a moral agent must not regulate his actions by his physical power, but employ right means, as well as pro- pose to himself a right end. As then the Almighty's sufferance of sin is not to be made a question of physical power, neither must it be made by us, whose faculties are limited, a consideration of wisdom or goodness. We are able to perceive the justice of any action INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. f 15 of God towards us : not to estimate the benevo- lence or expediency of his measures. Actions, naked and isolated, may be perceived just or un- just ; but to discover the expediency or goodness of any action of the Deity, its effects on the uni- verse and during eternity must be known, and a degree of knowledge therefore is necessary of which perhaps finite minds, or at least our very limited understandings are incapable. Even in the present state, however, we see as much of his administration as leaves little room to doubt, that all his measures are no less consistent with goodness and mercy than with the most impar- tial justice. In the economy of redemption, we behold all his attributes combined to overrule the wickedness of his fallen creatures, for the most gracious and glorious purposes ; and to bring out of evil, real not seeming evil, as the poet would insinuate, an amount of good of which the influ- ence in the universe cannot be duly appreciated, till the multitude which no man can number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stand before the throne, ascribing glory, and ho- nour, and blessing, and thanksgiving, to Him that reigneth for ever and ever. Then will it appear to the complete satisfaction of every ra- tional being, that God is infinitely benevolent and merciful, as well as just and true. His wisdom and mercy cannot, in the present state, always be duly estimated, nor in some cases apprehend- 216 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. ed : it is enough if it is found universally true, that He governs the world by no paltry principle of expediency, which would sacrifice one portion of his creation to promote the welfare of another; but that justice and judgment are the eternal foundations of his throne. The justice of the conduct of God respecting the fall of man has appeared manifest. A moral agent who knows his duty and has power to dis- charge it, can demand nothing more from a mo- ral governor. The man who would deny this principle would prove himself guilty of injustice and villany ; for all the duties which he imposes upon others, and the services which he claims from tliem, proceed upon the truth of it. And indeed all the objections which are urged against the responsibility of man and the justice of the Deity, are founded so much on misconception of the nature of moral government, and of the cha- racter of moral agents, that they are utterly un- worthy of notice. Their direct tendency is to degrade man from the high rank of the being who can think, judge, and act a part for himself in the universe, and whose destiny therefore was put into his own hands, to the irrational brute, made to obey the rein and the goad, till it sink into the inert and insensible mass from which it was formed. To answer the question then, whence came evil in our world ? we return to the statement of INTRODUCTION OF EVIL, ^17 the sacred writer, God made man upright, but at the iwstigation and by the artifice of Satan, he has found out many inventions. This is an ulti- mate fact to our present knowledge and with our present means of information. It is one of those first principles which we can state as a fact, but cannot attempt to explain or assign any reason how or why it is. In so doing we imitate the natural philosopher, who when asked what is gravitation, can give no answer but such as amounts merely to the truth that there is such a principle as gravitation. Like all other powers of the same sort, it is known to him only by its effects ; from the observation of which he dis- covers the laws of its action and the measure of its intensity. By the just application of these laws, he is enabled to explain all the mechanical phenomena of the universe, and at one time, constructs a steam-engine, and at another, ascertains the path of a projectile or traces the orbit of a planet. Taking, in like manner, the fallen spirits as the principle of evil, we explain all the phenomena of the moral world consistent- ly with the agency and responsibility of man, and with the moral attributes of the Creator. If we attempt to go beyond this fact, we are bewilder- ed in a more perplexing labyrinth than were the physics of the schoolmen, with all their multi- plicity of imaginary principles. Taking the fact as it is, without trying to explain it, and reason- SI 8 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. ing from it as the natural philosopher does from gravitation, all is obvious and satisfactory. Our reasonings then prove the world to be as it really is. God is proved holy, just, and merciful, the author of all good, from whom cometh every good and perfect gift. Devils and corrupted men are the authors of all moral evil, and, as such, are responsible to the great Judge, who will judge the world in righteousness and the people with truth. We cannot wonder at the partiality which a distinguished French writer betrays for the doc- trine of those ancient sects who held the exist- ence of two opposite principles of good and evil.* Ridiculous as the doctrine became in their hands, when obscured by their numerous ab- • This doctrine, as every body knows, was prevalent long before the time of the Manichees and other heretical sects in the early ages of Christianity. The older writers taught it more clearly and consistently, and it might not be difficult to trace it up to the tra- ditions derived from our first progenitors. Not to mention other authors, every scholar recollects the celebrated passage in the Odyssy. 'H 'ffO^Ol OtOV St] VV 6lOVi (i^OTOl UITIOa)>TXl' E^ vif^iuv yccQ (patri xax' tfji.fji.tvu.t' it ^t xai autoi '2(pyi(riv cira(r&oc>.i^inv'vn^ fio^ov dXyi ip(^ovffiv — Lib. /, 32, 34. " How strange," says Jupiter, " that mortals accuse the gods ; for they say that we are the cause of evil, while they suffer the punishment of their own folly contrary to fate." If we under- stand hy fate the will of the Almighty which governs the moral universe, and which was originally expressed by the creation of man as a perfect moral being, the doctrine is strictly true. All evil is contrary to fate in this sense. 2 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. «19 surdities, it is nothing but that of the sacred Scriptures, corrupted and disfigured ; and with respect to the origin and prevalence of evil in our world, it is practically correct. Since the creation of man there has been a good and an evil principle constantly at work, and a continual warfare maintained between them. The evil principle has been hitherto most prevalent, and has sometimes almost succeeded, as at the de- luge, in expelling virtue from the earth. And even now the god of this world — the prince of the powder of the air — the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience, has the advantage in the conflict, and reigns absolute sovereign over the great majority of mankind, who are led by him captive at his will. It shall not however be so for ever. The author of evil is but the creature contending against the almighty Crea- tor. Though Satan has hitherto prevailed, God has not been permitting sin, but waiting to be gracious, willing that his unhappy victims should come to repentance and obtain salvation, and when this merciful design is accomplished, ven- geance wdll no longer tarry. There is a day appointed in which He will judge the world in righteousness, by Him whom He hath ordained. Then shall the wrath of God be revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteous- ness of devils and of men, and in sw^eeping for ever moral evil and its authors from the universe, Q20 INTRODUCTION OF EVIL. the Deity will give an awful proof to all his in- telligent creatures, that though sinners have ren- dered Him and his works the occasions of evil, He is not its author, by any direct or secret pur- pose inconsistent with his revealed will ; and the real authors of it will then at length be convin- ced, that they, and they only, were the criminal perpetrators of the crimes for which they suffer the vengeance of eternal fire. REVIEW OF EDWARDS. 221 SECTION VII REVIEW OF PRESIDENT EDWARDS* ACCOUNT OF THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL. The brief, but not, we trust, altogether unsa- tisfactory illustrations of some of the most im- portant questions, involved in the inquiry respect- ing the liberty of man, which have been now offered, may serve to protect us from the beUef of the fate of the Stoicks on the one hand, and of Epicurean contingency on the other ; and enable us to form our conceptions of the human agent as he really exists. It has not appeared neces- sary to refute a multitude of opinions which are entertained respectingsomeof the topics, or to an- swer a number of objections which may be start- ed ; which, indeed, were as idle as, in the present age, to bring forward a formal refutation of the philosophy of Aristotle, or of the hypothesis of the vortices of Descartes. To guard us, how- ever, still farther against some of the practical consequences into which certain views of the sub- ject necessarily lead, it may not be unacceptable to examine a few of the principal opinions held 2^2 REVIEW OF EDWARDS. by writers on both sides of the controversy. And as President Edwards and Dr. Whitby may be justly considered to stand at the head of the writers of the opposite parties, w^e now propose to present some observations on the celebrated works of these distinguished authors. President Edwards' work first claims attention. Before proceeding to examine the leading principle of this work, it may not be amiss to ob- serve how judiciously the author has given us the true account of the mode of the determination of the will. " The will," says he, ** always is as the greatest apparent good is," or as ** what ap- pears most agreeable."* He prefers this mode of expression to the more common phraseology, justly observing, that the ** appearing most agreeable or pleasing to the mind, and the mind's preferring and choosing, seem hardly to be pro- perly and perfectly distinct." He then enume- rates a number of circumstances, both of the ex- ternal motive and of the mind itself, which tend to render any action the most agreeable, and concludes the argument in support of his prin- ciple with the following powerful passage. " However, I think so much is certain, that vo- lition, in no one instance that can be mentioned, is otherwise than the greatest apparent good is, in the manner which has been explained. The * Part I. Sect. II. REVIEW OF EDWARDS. 223 * choice of the mind never departs from that which, at that time, and with respect to the di- rect and immediate objects of that decision of the mind, appears most agreeable and pleasing, all things considered. If the immediate effects of the will are a man's own actions, then those actions wliich appear most agreeable to him he wills. If it be now most agreeable to him, all things considered, to walk, then he now wills to walk. If it be now, upon the whole of what at present appears to him, most agreeable to speak, then he chooses to speak ; if it suits him best to keep silence, then he chooses to keep silence. There is scarcely a plainer and more universal dictate of the sense and experience of mankind than that, when men act voluntarily and do what they please, then they do what suits them best, or what is most agreeable to them. To say that they do what they please or what pleases them, but yet they do what is most agreeable to them, is the same thing as to say that they do what they please but do not act their pleasure, and that is to say that they do what they please, and yet do not do what they please."* This reasoning is perfectly conclusive. To render any action the most agreeable it must be the object of the predominant desire : now from the analysis of volition, it was obvious that * Part I. Sect. II. 224 REVIEW OF EDVVAKDS. the desire which, at the time, predominates uniformly involves the determination of the will ; and hence, as he himself has acutely hint- ed above, to appear most agreeable to the mind, and the mind to prefer or choose, are, in truth, identical, or at least, the one uniformly involves the other. In establishing this conclusion, this acute metaphysician has not committed the mistake, into which some writers, who seem to follow him in other respects, have fallen. He evinces too great an acquaintance with the human mind to imagine, that men, in the present state of moral derangement, act uniformly under the guidance of their understanding. " It will appear from these things,'^ says he *' that m mme sense, the will always follows the last dictate of the understanding. But then the understanding must be taken in a large SL>nse, as including the whole faculty oi' j)erception or apprehension^ and not merely what is called reason or judgment. If j by the dictate of the understanding be meant what reason declares to be best, or most for the person's happiness, taking in the whole of its duration, it is not true that the will always fol- lows the last dictate of the understanding. Such a dictate of reason is quite a different matter from things appearing now most agreeable \ all things being put together which pertain to the mind's present perceptions, apprehensions, or REVIEW OF EDWARDS. 2^25 ideas, in any respect. Although that dictate of reason, when it takes place, is one thing which is put into the scales, and is to be considered as a thing that has concern in the compound influ- ence which moves and induces the will ; and is one thing that is to be considered in estimating the degree of that appearance of good which the will always follows, either as having its in- fluence added to other things, or subtracted from them. When it remains with other things, then its weight is added to them, as put into the same scale ; but when it is against them, it is as a weight in the opposite scale, where it re- sists the influence of other things ; T/et its resis- tance is often overcome by their greater weight, and so the act of the will is determined in oppo^ sition to it"* This is the correct statement of fact, which we have endeavoured to illustrate. Section IV. under the name of Moral Necessity, and which has been observed by moralists in all ages, and has given occasion for all the complaints of the folly and inconsistency of man. It is true that, in one sense, the judgment or understanding always approves of the volition, in as far as it is the most desirable and agreeable at the time, though, perhaps, neither right nor most advan- tageous upon the whole. But such approba- ♦ Part I. Sect. II. S 226 REVIEW OF EDWARDS. tion is not strictly the judgment of the under- standing j it is rather, as our author justly ob- serves, a fact consequent upon the volition, which the understsindmg perceives ; for the action or object of the volition is rendered the most agreeable, by causes independent of the judg- ment ; and notwithstanding the pleasure which the action affords, the understanding, it may be, does not cease to condemn it as a crime. Let us now examine the nature of the necessi- ty which the work under consideration so ably estabUshes. After very judiciously explaining the common and proper meaning of the term, necessity y and others of a like import, and show- ing clearly that they are relative terms, always implying opposition, and that an action is neces- sary to us, when no endeavour or effort of ours can render it otherwise, he goes on to make the following excellent observations/ **It follows from what has been observed, that when these terms necessary, impossible, ir resistible, kc, are used in cases wherein no opposition, or insuffi- cient will or endeavour, is supposed, or can be supposed, but the very nature of the supposed case itself excludes and denies any such opposi- tion, will, or endeavour, these terms are then not used in their proper signification, but quite be- side their use in common speech. The reason is manifest, namely, that in such cases we can- not use the words with reference to a supposable REVIEW OF EDWARDS. 2^7 opposition, will or endeavour. And, therefore, if any man use these terms in such cases, he either uses them nonsensically, or in some new sense, diverse from their original and proper meaning. As for instance, if a man should af- firm after this manner, that it is necessary for a man and what must be, that a man should choose virtue rather than vice, during the time that he prefers virtue to vice ; and that it is a thing im~ possible and irresistible^ that it should be other- wise than that he should have this choice, so long as this choice continues ; such a man would use the terms musty irresistible^ &c. with perfect insignificance and nonsense, or in some new sense diverse from their common use ; which is with reference, as has been obsei^ed, to suppo- sable opposition, unwillingness and resistance j whereas here, the very supposition excludes and denies any such thing ; for the case supposed is that of being willing and choosing,"* * Part I. Sect. III. Luther, too, was quite aware of the misappli- cation of the terra necessity, and felt the injurious tendency of the word in this controversy. *' Optarim sane aliud," says he, " melius vocabulum dari in hac disputatione quam hoc usitatura, NecessUas, quod non recte dicitur, nee de divina neque de huraana voluntate ; Est enim nimis ingratae et incongruee significationis, pro hoc loco, quandam velut coactionem et omnino id quod contrarium est vo- luntati ingerens intellectui. De Servo Arbitrio." " I truly wish that in this controversy some more appropriate term were employed than the usual one necessity, which is applicable neither to the will of God nor man. It is of so harsh and incongruous a signification, when used here, suggesting a sort of coaction, and 228 REVIEW OF EDWARDS. This is admirable, and the true account of the nature of necessity, and is precisely what we at- tempted to illustrate, in the remarks which were offered on the principle of Mr. Hume. Where there is no irresistible opposition, there is no ne- cessity. I "When a voluntary agent carries his will into execution, he is physically free ; and when his will is opposed and resisted by a superior force, he is under necessity. I When, in like man- ner, a moral agent judges aii action right and re- solves to perform it, he enjoys moral liberty ; but when, on the other hand, by external excite- ment, appetite or disallowed passion, the dictate of his conscience is resisted, and he is impelled to act the part which he condemns, he is placed in a condition directly the opposite of moral free- dom. In both cases, freedom, as was formerly shown, is the enjoyment of power ; necessity the result of weakness and opposition. Where there is no opposition to the peculiar agency of a be- ing, there is no necessity ; and it is utterly non- sensical and absurd, as is justly observed, to take the mere fact of existence and call it by that term, and then to assure us that because a -what is altogether contrary to the nature of volition." It is ear- nestly to be hoped that writers on this subject will take the hint of Luther, and instead of this incongruous term necessity, employ the word causation^ or agency ; and instead, therefore, of saying that man is under necessity, or philosophical necessity, rather say more correctly and elegantly, he is an agent. REVIEW OF EDWARDS. * 229 being is, he is under hopeless necessity. Such contemptible insignificance and nonsense how- ever has been dignified with the name of philo- sophy. Had President Edwards therefore observed this just distinction, in the subsequent part of the discussion, he would have fully explained the whole subject of liberty ; and it is much to be regretted, that a writer so able to illustrate this important subject was diverted from his proper object, by his desire to expose the absurdities of writers little worthy of his attention. Let us Eow see how far he has been induced, and ap- parently with his eyes open, to overlook his own principle in the establishment of universal neces- sity. After stating the various significations which the phrase moral necessity assumes, he adds, " and sometimes by moral necessity is meant that necessity of connection and consequence, which arises from such moral causes, as the strength of inclination or motives, and the connection which there is ^in many cases between these, and such certain volitions and actions. And it is in this \ ^,; sense that I use the phrase, moral necessity, in the ' following discourse.'' As a counterpart to this he explains what is called natural or physical ne- cessity as follows : " By natural necessity, as ap- ^^^ pjied to man, I mean such necessity as men are x *u. under through the force of natural causes, as dis- 230 REVIEW OF EDWARDS. tinguished from what are called moral causes, such as habits and dispositions of the heart, and moral motives and inducements. Thus men placed in certain circumstances, are the subjects of particular sensation by necessity — they feel pain when their bodies are wounded ; they see objects presented before them in clear light when their eyes are opened," &c.* Respecting these two sorts of necessity, he very judiciously remarks, first, that moral necessity may be as absolute as natural necessity ; that is, the effect may be as perfectly connected with its moral cause as a natural effect with its natural cause ; and hence, secondly, that this distinction is founded not on any difference in the nature of the causation, or from the one being less natural than the other, but simply from the subjects in which they take place — the one necessity regard- ing mind, the other matter. It is plain, then, by the definition above, that the necessity, both moral and physical, of Presi- dent Edwards, is exactly the philosophical neces- sity or causation of Mr. Hume, which, we saw, involves both liberty and necessity, and is equal- ly essential to the existence of either. Whether a voluntary agent be able to carry his volition into effect or not, the result is determined by the immutable laws of mechanical philosophy ; and • Part I. Sect. IV. REVIEW OF EDWARDS. 231 whether or not the moral agent do what he knows to be right and remain innocent, or act against his conscience and render himself guilty, the effect is equally that of the dispositions, in- clinations, and desires of the mind, acting on the sure principles of its partially corrupted nature. Moral causes, that is. not, as the language of the President might seem to suggest, inclina- tions and motives as distinct entities, but, as Leibnitz clearly understood, the mind itself per- ceiving and desiring different objects, are as ne- cessarily and invariably connected with their ef- fects as the causes of the physical world. It is in this that the power of the agent consists, and on which consequently his liberty depends. It is simply the fact, that he is an agent; which alone, therefore, the universal establishment of moral causation proves. The true question of liberty and necessity is entirely set aside. In all cases, both of liberty and necessity, moral causation takes place ; but we must know something more, be- fore any thing can be determined regarding that real necessity, which is the consequence of irresis- tible opposition, and of the weakness of the agent who labours under it. We have not to inquire, whether any moral effect has a cause, but whe- ther this cause acts for or against the intelligent man — whether the effect is his own approved «qf, or the effect of another cause acting in op- position to his understanding. If his own intel- 232 REVIEW CF EDWARDS. lectual power produces the effect, he is free ; if the effect be the result of irresistible opposition and of inability on his part to oppose it, he is under necessity. The President was perfectly aware that he had left the subject of real necessity, and takes no undue advantage of his reader. " It must be observed," says he, " that in what has been ex- plained as signified by the name of moral neces- sity^ the word necessity is not used according to the original design and meaning of the word ; for, as was observed before, such terms, neces- sary, impossible, &c. in common speech, and in their most proper sense, are always relative, hav- ing reference to some supposable opposition or endeavour that is insufficient." * He seems to have been led to misapply the term, and to lay himself open to the charge of using it with " in- significance and nonsense," in the way that most other writers have been — by regarding too ex- clusively the external and physical condition of man, without sufficiently considering his nature, as a moral and intelligent being. Hence he imagines that no opposition can take place in any instance of moral necessity. " No opposi- tion, or contrary will and endeavour, is suppos* able in the case of moral necessity, which is a certainty and inclination of the will itself, which * Part I. Sect. IV. REVIEW OF EDWARDS. 233 does not admit of the supposition of a will to oppose and resist it. For it is absurd to suppose the same individual will to oppose itself, in its present act ; or the present choice to be oppo- site to, and resisting present choice — as absurd as it is to talk of two contrary motions, in the same moving body, at the same time. And therefore the very case supposed never admits of any trial, whether an opposing or resisting will can overcome this necessity." * There can, indeed, be no opposition of will to will and of choice to choice, in the mind of an individual, in the same direct manner as the will of one agent is opposed to that of another ; for the very supposition, as our author states, is incon- sistent with the idea of voluntary agency, and this is not the opposition which is peculiar to man as a moral being. The opposition which man, in this character, experiences, is that which his judgment and his approved feelings offer to his disapproved and guilty volitions ; and in every instance of moral necessity, according to the de- finition of Edwards, that is, in every instance of moral causation, this opposition may or may not take place, and as it does or does not, is the man under real moral necessity or in a state of moral freedom. When the understanding and the con- science sanction a volition, and which, conse- * Part. I. Sect IV. S34 REVIEW OF EDWARDS. quently, acts in concurrence with the approved feeUng, no possible opposition, at least no irre- sistible opposition can be offered, and the man is therefore morally free. But when the conscience condemns a desire, and the approved feelings re- sist it, a violent mental struggle takes place be- tween the opposite wishes ; and if the dictates of the conscience and the better feelings are re- sisted by the forbidden desire, and the volition fixed in opposition to them, the man labours un- der a real moral necessity. In such a case, there is as truly a moral conflict and a real moral op- position, in the breast of the individual, as there is a physical struggle and external opposition when one man endeavours by force to resist the will of another. Feeling is opposed to feel- ing, and desire struggles with desire ; and if the feelings and desires which the understanding ap- proves are resisted and overcome by those which it condemns, the moral agent is placed under a In oral necessity as truly as the voluntary agent is under a physical necessity, when the superior strength of an antagonist violently resists and hinders the execution of his will. All this the President fully and clearly states in numerous passages of his valuable works, though he did not distinctly perceive its bearing on the subject of free will. Not to adduce other quotations, a passage already mentioned exhibits very explicit- ly the whole truth. ** When the understanding REVIEW OF EDWARDS. ^35 concurs with other things, then its weight is add- ed to them as put into the same scale ; but when it is against them, it is as a weight to the oppo- site scale where it resists the influence of other things, ^et its resistance is often overcome hy their greater iveight, and so the act of the will is deter- mined in opposition to it.'' It is, however, somewhat unaccountable, that so acute an observer and so clear a reasoner as President Edwards should have overlooked this moral opposition, especially after he had distinct- ly recognised it. It gives rise to a distinction vastly more important, as was hinted before, than the physical opposition which is the cause of ani- mal or voluntary necessity. It is this moral op- position and resistance which is the source of the distinction of guilty and innocent, vicious and virtuous, sinful and holy ; and long after all the temporary inconvenience of physical weakness and animal necessity are forgotten, the conse- quences of this distinction will be experienced, in the state of inconceivable felicity or of hope- less misery in which the righteous Judge will ^x his moral creatures for eternity. To overlook such a distinction, therefore, in treating of moral necessity, is, in truth, to overlook the most im- portant and momentous state which the agency of a moral being exhibits, and entirely to set aside the real subject of inquiry; for without mo- ^36 REVIEW OF EDWARDS. ral resistance and opposition there is indeed no moral necessity. It is unnecessary to offer any further remarks on a subject already so evident. It is perfectly obvious, that President Edwards has left the sub- ject of liberty and necessity exactly where it was left by Mr. Hume, having established the uni- versality of causation as certainly in the moral world as it is admitted to be in the physical, but having determined literally nothing respect- ing real necessity. Nay, according to his own correct definition of necessity, he has established rather the universality of moral freedom ; for were there no irresistible moral opposition, there could be no moral necessity. In making these remarks, however, it is not the intention to throw any blame upon the author. He has given us clear and correct definitions of what he meant to establish, and has honestly proceeded upon them, without taking any un^ndid advantage of the ambiguity of words ; and if, in some respects, he misleads his reader, it is only because he himself was misled. The professed object of his work was not to treat of liberty and necessity, proper- ly so called, but to refute the prevailing notions of a certain imaginary freedom of will, which was falsely deemed essential to moral agency and responsibihty ; and he has completely and most triumphantly succeeded. In establishing the universality of moral causation, he has for ever P^ or THE REVIEW OF EDWARDS. |( TT ]iPST ^ *^ *^^ swept away all the fantastic mass of absS^j^|es maintained by his opponents, and has clearly exhibited the only solid and even possible foun- dation of moral freedom, in demonstrating the fact, that man is a moral agent, which they vir- tually deny, by the supposition that contingency and indifference are essential to moral agency and responsibility. These and all such monstrous conceptions he completely explodes ; and exhi- bits man just as he is — a voluntary and moral agent, who so long as he retains his present constitution and the powers which render him what he is, will necessarily act upon the princi- ples of his being, from which he cannot possibly escape, without divesting himself of his nature. Let us now see the practical consequences of President Edwards' doctrine of the univ^ersa- lity of moral necessity. The only liberty which he holds man to possess is the power of acting as he willsy chooses^ 'pleases or feels most agreeable. These terms, it must be admitted, are somewhat ambiguous, and are used with various latitudes of signification ; but, as he employs them, they must be considered to express the fact, that man is a voluntary agent, or regulates his actions by his volitions. When he does so, he is allowed by Edwards to be free ; but when he is resisted and restrained by irresistible physical force, he is un- der necessity in the proper sense of the term. This, it will be recollected, was the opinion 238 REVIEW OF EDWARDS. of Mr. Hume, who granted that thus far there is a real distinction in the condition of the human agent, and that if the one state is necessity, the other may be termed Hberty. But this wily sceptic, with a head as clear as that of Satan and a heart as bad, instantly discovered that if this is the whole of human liberty, there can be no moral obligation ; and hence in his attempt to subvert the morals and religion of the country, he was zealous to maintain that this is the whole freedom enjoyed by man. Accordingly, the work of Edwards, as is well known, was a great subject of triumph to Hume and his disciples ; for though that author clearly demonstrated the con- sistency of moral obligation with the moral neces- sity which he held, his arguments, derived from Scripture and the common sense of mankind, were pointless to the mind of a discerning sceptic, who was ignorant of the limits of human knowledge — the first qualification of a true philosopher, and who besides facts, sought the reasons of them. The will itself is that which, by the law of God, we are enjoined to regulate, or in the words of Ed- wards, " The being of a good will is the most proper, direct, and immediate subject of com- mand ; and if this cannot be prescribed or requir- ed by command or precept, nothing can ; for other things- can be required no otherwise than as they depend upon, and are the fruits of a good REVIEW OF EDWARDS. 239 will/** It directly follows, therefore, that if the only liberty possessed by man is the power of doing as he pleases, he cannot be the subject of moral obhgation, but is in the same condition as the brutes, which not less than he do as they please or as they find most agreeable. The truth of this conclusion is put in a strong light by the President's own statements. He holds " that natural necessity is wholly inconsistent with just praise or blame ;" f and goes further with this principle than perhaps many Calvinists may feel disposed to accompany him, saying, that ** it is a plain dictate of the sense of all mankind, that natural necessity and impossibility take away all blame and praise ; and, therefore, that the nearer approach is to these through previous ^;ro- pensity or difficulty, so praise and blame are pro- portionably diminished ^X On this principle then it directly and irresistibly follows, that if Mr. Hume be successful in proving the ability to do as we will the whole of human liberty, he at once overthrows all moral responsibility and na- tural religion, and proves the gospel of our salva- tion to be a most ridiculous delusion of the weak and enthusiastic, or a subtle device of the church- man to procure for himself a good living, while the villain cloaks his base and mercenary mo- tives under loud pretensions of zeal for the wel- fare of souls. ♦ Part III. Sect. IV. f Part IV. Sect. III. \ Part IV. Sect. IV. S40 REVIEW OF EDWARDS. President Edwards, it is true, most satisfactor- ily demonstrated the consistency of moral obli- gation with, or more truly the impossibility of it without, the necessity which he so successfully establishes ; but it is by tacitly admitting the principle which he professes to refute. He just- ly rejects the self-determining power of the will, as a contradiction, or perhaps, in truth, rather a contradictory expression ; but he is compelled to allow the human agent a self-determining power of some sort, and accordingly proceeds implicitly uponit in all his arguments in support of responsi- bihty. It is needless to mention the instances, which he adduces, of perfect beings, as our Sa- viour, all of whom are moral beings solely by the circumstance, that they have the power of regu- lating their own wills, and whose case proves on- ly the fact without explaining the reason of it. " The idea," says he, "which the common people, through all ages and nations, have of faultiness, I suppose to be plainly this : A person* s being or doing wrong with Ids own will or pleasure, con- taining these two things : First, his doing wrong when he does as he pleases ; second, his pleasures being wrong ; or, in other words, perhaps more intelligibly expressing their notion, A person having his heart wrong, and doing wrong from his heart : And this is the sum total of the matter."'* * Part IV. Sect, IV. IlEVIEW OF ILDVVAllDS. 211 This most undoubtedly involves the whole mat- ter ; for the truth which is the basis of obligation, if not prominently brought forward, is directly imphed. The notion of one's pleasure and will be- ing wrong implies, as every one perceives, the pos- session of an understanding capable of perceiving the right and the wrongs and hence of determin- ing the volition according to the former or against the latter. This is no less a principle of the common sense of mankind, and is that on which they proceed in all their moral judgments. All this the President readily admits, and by no means denies that the volitions are determin- ed by the last dictate of the understanding ; yet strange as it may seem, so much was he haunted by th.e dread of a self-determining power, that when his opponents bring forward the same truth, attended, it is true, with a number of absurdities and contradictory expressions and explanations, — and view it in its bearing on the question of liberty, he instantly attempts to deny and evade it. " They say,^ says he, ** unless the soul has a self-determining power, it has no power of ac- tion, — if its volitions be not caused by itself, but are excited and determined by some extrinsic cause, they cannot be the soul's own acts ; and that the soul cannot be active, but must be wholly passive, in those effects which it is the subject of necessarily, and not from its own determin^- B 243 REVIEW OF EDWARDS. tion."* Is not this the true account of the mat- ter ? Is the mind's perception of right and wrong its own act ? Is not the understanding an essen- tial part of the man ? If not, are his ideas separate entities ; or what other agent determines for him his vohtion ? Yet this very just and ac- curate account of human agency the President treats as monstrous absurdity and nonsense : but it must be remembered that the work from which it is taken contains very much which is entitled to this character ; and though the author speaks good sense, when he begins to explain his mean- ing, he makes it intolerable nonsense. Though therefore the fancy of the self-deter- mining power of the will must be abandoned, as a misconception, the man^s self-determining 'power over his will must be substituted in its stead, as the ground of moral obligation. Had Edwards, after so ably exposing the inconsistency of his antagonists, pointed out the true self-determining principle possessed by man, and explained the re- lation of the understanding to m(5ral freedom, he would have presented a correct view of the subject, and saved himself from being made the instrument of abetting infidels, in their assaults on Christia- nity. Mr. Hume was too acute not to perceive that he had caught the religionist in his own snare j and there is no wonder that Edwards' work was * Part IV. Sect. II. REVIEW OF EDWARDS. 245 SO well received by the sceptics of those times. He did indeed, as has been stated, establish mo- ral obligation ; but he was obliged to have re- course to the Scriptures and the common sense of mankind, and could not defend it by his phi^ losophy. When he leaves the testimony of Scrip- ture and vulgar experience, both of which are incredible in the judgment of such characters as Mr. Hume ; instead of the clear, right-forward» overbearing expounder of truth, he unwittingly becomes the confused, evasive, imbecile sophist. It would exhaust the patience of the reader to point out the misconception of the arguments which he employs to support moral obligation, but we may be allowed just to glance at one of them as a specimen. He endeavours to show that the vitiousness and virtuousness of actions consists not in their cause but in their nature. This is in one sense true, but not in a way that supports his argument. We will not insist upon the con- sideration, that in the strict and philosophical sense, \itiousness or virtuousness does not belong to actions at all, but are the qualities of the agent whose actions they are ; and therefore, to say that these qualities belong to actions but not to their causes, that is, — if it has any meaning, which appears somewhat doubtful, — to the agents which perform them, is a manifest contradiction, inconsistent with the universal belief of mankind, who always conceive that it is the agent who is 2*i REVIEW OF EDWARDS. virtuous or vicious. But to employ a more po- pular argument, the vicious feelings, as anger, revenge, covetous, &c. are in themselves the same, there is no reason to doubt, in brutes, and certainly precisely the same in idiots; yet nobody supposes, and President Edwards himself, on his own principle, that natural necessity frees from blame, does not suppose, that an utter idiot in indulging these feelings is morally guilty. The cause of this universal belief is obvious. It is not the nature of the feeling merely which ren- ders a man guilty or praiseworthy, but the nature of the feeling combined with the fact, that he has the power of perceiving the nature of his feel- ings, and consequently of suppressing those which he judges wrong, and of indulging those which he considers right. When this power is pre-sup- posed, as it universally is, the nature of the feel- ings then constitutes the guilt or merit of the man, but not otherwise. The reductio ad ah- surdum by which he struggles to prop his ar- gument is irrelevant, in as much as it does not establish his own opinion, though it completely refutes that of his opponent. It is rather awkward, one can scarcely but re- mark, to see so sound a reasoner as President Edwards guilty of a sophism. In light subjects indeed, it is not unpleasing to behold a grave philosopher engage with all earnestness to roll the fabled stone up the mountain \ for it pro- REVIEW OF EDWARDS. 2i'5 duces an agreeable feeling of the equality men, and a conviction that the greatest have no cause to be vain, nor the weakest any reason to crouch under the consciousness of insignificance. But in subjects whose consequences are so mo- mentous as that of free will, it is distressing to contemplate an honest lover of knowledge, and particularly a minister of truth, supporting prin- ciples which men such as Hume should feel any interest to espouse. But although, as simple phi- losophers, their doctrine exactly coincides and tends to the same dangerous practical conclusion, we regard the men with very different emo- tions. We love Edwards and regret his mis- takes ; for we see him honest in defence of what he considered truth, and important to the welfare of mankind. We detest Hume, whose excessive vanity led him to support ridicu- lous paradoxes, and deny truths which, even were they false, the truly benevolent sceptic would not seek to disprove, and thereby de- stroy the most efficient means of rendering men more noble and happy beings, at least in the present life, although, as he suspects, they might not preserve them from annihilation in the fu- ture. A generous man would not wantonly op- press and check the growth of a fine animal, with which the sentient nature gives him a communi- ty of sympathy : how detestable the wretch, and how worthy to be held up, by every man who 246 REVIEW OF EDWARDS* fears his God and loves his country, as the ob- ject of most implacable public execration, who with a cold-hearted and villanous scepticism, and under the mask of a friend of science, would blast the present happiness of nations by cor- rupting the public morals, and extinguish their hopes for eternity ? The candid reader will not, at least, harshly condemn me if I add a prayer j and I do it with the most assured faith, for its object is what the divine veracity has been long pledged to perform — May the mercy of God, ere Jong, sweep such characters utterly from the earth. To guard us then against the foolish conclu- sions and abominable conduct of sceptics, let us describe man as he really is, an agent who, in the exercise of conscience, possesses a self-determin- ing power over his own will ; and that as those whom Edwards opposes maintain, the motives, considered as external things, are purely passive, and cannot influence the will of the man till he has exerted his mental activity in perceiving the relations in which they stand to himself. Thus Ave can urge home moral obligation upon the heart even of a defender of the universe of im- pressions and ideas ; for he cannot deny it, as a matter of consciousness, that he judges some things right and proper and other things wrong, and that his volitions are determined according to these perceptions. The divine law commands no impossibilities. The Scriptures clearly lay it REVIEW OF EDWARDS. 247 down, as was seen, that if a man is invincibly ig- norant of any duty, he is under no moral obliga- tion, and contracts no guilt by the omission of it. But if he hiow one thing to be right and ano- ther wrong, let him refuse to act upon this per- ception at his peril. His conscience will, one time or other, rise up in might, and drag him, a convicted and degraded culprit, before the judg- ment seat of God. 24.8 REVIEW OF WHITBY. SECTION VIll. REVIEW OF DR. WHITBy's DISCOURSE OF THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL OF MAN. We next proceed to examine the opinions held on the opposite side of this controversy ; and it will be found that there is greater difference in the character of the writers than in the opinions which they hold. Edwards, clear and accurate, like a hardy and skilful veteran, calmly secures his ground wherever he advances : Whitby, not less able, but incorrect and impetuous, forces his way through the thickest of the enemy, but is enveloped in smoke and confusion. — Edwards is right, so far as he goes, but his view is partial, and is therefore as dangerous as error, in deriving practical conclusions: Whitby is right in his general principle, but overlooks the exceptions which, in some instan- ces, are more numerous than the effects which follow the general law. The practical conclu- sion drawn from the doctrine of the one, denies moral obligation, and hence implicitly the truth of all religion : the conclusion from that of the REVIEW OF WHITBY. 249 Other subverts the peculiar doctrines of Christi- anity, in which consists all its excellency. Thus the result has been, what has not been unusual among theological controversialists, in their har- dy zeal to defend truth, they have cruelly stran- gled her between them. The correctness of these remarks we shall presently ascertain. Dr. Whitby, in his Discourse of the Freedom of the Will, attempts to establisli his principle of liberty, by general arguments, without enter- ing deeply into the metaphysics of his subject. He derives his evidence from three sources : the testimony of the sacred Scriptures, ge- neral reasonings from admitted truths, and the writings of the fathers of the Christian church. It is not the intention to pursue his reasonings through the mass of evidence of this sort which he brings forv/ard, but to take up his principal conclusions, r.nd examine them on the principles of mental pliilosophy, and ascer- tain how far they are consistent with the pheno- mena of the human mind, which, as the work of God, is not, when candidly interrogated, less correct in the statement of facts than his word. If the object of this discourse be considered, as it certainly seems intended, to prove the reality of that moral freedom which is peculiar to man, the Doctor has completely succeeded in his de- sign, and has done just what we have attempted to do in the Second Section of the present Es- 250 REVIEW OF WHITBY. say. He is chargeable, indeed, with a number of inaccuracies in point of philosophy, as Ed- wards has shown, and does not always observe the distinction between animal and moral free- dom, but occasionally says of the one what can be truly affirmed only of the other ; and, hence, while he defines a liberty which is nowhere to be found but in the imagination of the writer, he brings forward a text to prove another, and rea- sons from it as if it were a third. In no writer do we more sensibly feel the absence of correct definition, and perceive the justness of the sar- castic remark of Luther, respecting writers of this sort. " It is not enough," says he, ** to say there is a power, there is a power, (as they are perpetually repeating), there is a power of free will ; for what is more easily uttered ; nor is this the practice of the most learned and dis- tinguished philosopher of all ages ; but, to use the words of a German proverb, let them name the child, — let them define what this power is, — its effects, its susceptibilities, it properties.* By the want of correct definition, and by not al- ways attending to the definitions which he has given us, the Doctor has been led into all the * Non enim satis est dicere, est vis, est vis, est vis, quaedam li- beri arbitrii ; quid enim dicitur facilius ? Nee hoc virorum eru- ditissiraorum et sanctissimorum tot saeculis approbatoruin. Sed nominandus est infans, ut aiunt Germanico proverbio, — definien- dum est quae sit ilia vis, quid faciat, quid patiatur, quid accidat. — De Servo Arbitrio. IIEVIEW OF WHITBY. 9S1 inconsistencies which his work exhibits. Such mistakes, however, as he has committed, are not pecuhar to one side of the question, and might have been expected from an author who, though he clearly saw the consequences of one view of his subject, was unacquainted with the subject itself. Notwithstanding all his inconsisten- cies, his general reasonings remain unaffected, and are perfectly conclusive in confutation of that necessity, which, as he justly conceived, leads directly to fatalism ; and he is well entitled, therefore, to the gratitude of every friend of Christianity, for having so ably and successfully maintained at once the true dignity of a moral being, and the ground of his moral obligation. The foundation of his arguments, as well as the principal mistake into which he falls, is stated as follows : " Again what makes the will choose, is something approved by the understanding, and consequently appearing to the soul as good ; and whatsoever it refuseth is something represent- ed to the understanding, and so appearing to the will, as evil. * * • Wherefore, to say that evi- dence proposed, apprehended, and considered, is not sufficient to make the understanding to approve, or that the greatest good proposed, the greatest evil threatened, when equally believed and reflected on, is not sufficient to engage the will to choose the good and refuse the evil, is in effect to say, that which alone doth move the 2,52 REVIEW OF WHITBY. will to choose or to refuse is not sufficient to engage it so to do — that which alone is requisite to make one understand and approve is not suffi- cient to do so, which being contradictory to it- self, must of necessity be false."* There are in this passage, evidently two distinct questions blended together, on the separation of which the whole question of moral liberty or necessity depends. They are the mode in which the assent or approbation of the understanding is obtained, and that in which the will is deter- mined. With respect to the former, there is no difference of opinion. Evidence considered and apprehended is universally sufficient to make the understanding to approve ; and it were a con- tradiction in terms to affirm, that a man appre- hends the evidence of a truth which yet he does not beHeve to be true. With respect to the second question, as a ge- neral principle, the Doctor is also right. In the present condition of man, it is the general law of mind, that the perception of the greatest good or evil determines the will ; and were men per- fect beings, it would no doubt be the universal law of their intellectual nature. That it is not so however in point of fact, we trust we made sufficiently evident in the Fourth Section. It was there shown in what respect the understand- ♦ Discourse of Sufficient and Effectual [Grace, chap. I. § 3. REVIEW or WHITBY. 253 ing universally approves of all the volitions, namely, in their being the most agreeable at the time, and hence their object is felt to be the greatest good to the sentient and voluntary being ; but it was at the same time demonstrat- ed, that the intelligent being often disapproves of his own volitions and actions, as not the most advantageous upon the whole, and frequently condemns them as morally wrong. This indeed the Doctor himself admits, as he must have done, had he regarded his own consciousness. His reasonings, in several parts of his discourses, pro- ceed upon the supposition ; and it is one of his best arguments against the irresistibility of grace, that ** even the regenerate too often act against the highest motives and the most potverjul per- suasions f* and hence justly concludes, that otherwise they could not be guilty of sin. His definition of freedom too, is, in reality, nothing but a statement of this fact. ** The freedom of the will," says he, " in this state of trial and temptation, cannot consist with a determination to one, viz. on the one hand, in a determination to good only, by the efficacy of divine grace, infallibly or unfrustra- bly inducing to that operation, or engaging man, in respect of the divine appointment, infallibly and certainly to act so that he cannot fail of acting, &c. Nor can this liberty consist with the contrary determination to one, viz. with an 6 254 REVIEW OF WHITBY. incapacity in man, through the fall, to do good but evil only.''* We do not mean, let it be re- collected, to connect the question in any way with that of predestination ; but that man, in the present state, is not infalHbly and uni- formly determined either to good or evil is a matter of fiict 5 and the Doctor must be here considered to give the true account of the pre- sent condition of human nature. Whether this be a correct definition of freedom is a very dif- ferent question. He candidly admits, that this liberty is no perfection of human nature ; and it is plain, from what has been said in the foregoing sections, that it is the state of a fallen being, like man, containing a mixture of good and evil — sometimes enjoying liberty, sometimes labour- ing under necessity. For a moral being to be free, he must be uniformly and invariably de- termined to do good, and to do good alone ; so far as he is determined to evil, he is to be consi- dered in a state of moral enthralment. But, omitting the consideration of the in- correctness of this definition, and the mistake of conceiving such a liberty necessary to a state of trial, with the futility of all the reasonings ground- ed on such a supposition, let us see how it agrees with the principle laid down, in the Discourse of SuflScient Grace, respecting the determination of the will. * Diacourse of the Freedom of the "Will of Man, chap. 1.^3. REVIEW OF WHITBY. 255 The indifference which is supposed in this definition is of two sorts, which maybe termed sen- tient and 2w/^//^c/m«/ indifference, as it regards the will or the understanding, answering to the two species of liberty which man enjoys, as a voluntary or moral agent. When two objects are presented to a man's choice, he is in a state of sentient indifference, when he has no desire for either the one or the other. This state of mind is very frequent ; but as it gives rise to no volition, and leads to no action, it is not to be taken no- tice of in any inquiry respecting animal or vo- luntary freedom, in which action is always im- plied. Before the man can enjoy his freedom he must get rid of this indifference, and be de- sirous of exerting his physical power. ' The other sort of indifference respects the understanding and not the volition. When, for instance, a man desires an apple, and a number equally good are presented to him, he judges them, perhaps, all alike, and is perfectly indif- ferent which he takes. He does not, however, remain inactive, as the schoolmen fooUshly im- agined, and refuse to take his apple, until he obtain a sufficient reason for preferring one to another. Though he sees no ground of prefer- ence, he is determined to have an apple ; and as a voluntary being, he takes one accordingly, without needing to be freed from the intellect Q56 REVIEW OF WHITBT. /2^a/ indifference which he feels respecting the superiority of the one to the other. There is no indifference in his will, though there is in his understanding ; and he does not hesitate a mo- ment to gratify his desire. This state of mind also is frequently experienced. It often gives rise to that state of doubt and perplexity, in which a man, when the objects of his choice are complex and important, experiences so much difficulty in coming to a final determination. In moral objects, however, to which alone the Doctor's discourse can be reasonably supposed to have any reference, for he h treating of man as a religious and moral being, such a state of mind has no place. In things which are neither right nor wrong, indifference may be felt, and man, as a prudential being, may reason and doubt about the result of the measures which he has the choice of adopting ; but if) as a moral being, he perceives one action to be right and another to be wrong, all intellectual indifference is at once precluded. Along with the very per- ception of the right or the wrong, he is convinc- ed that he should do the one a:id forbear the other. He may indeed feel, on some occasions, uncertain whether the action is really wrong, but even then his conscience convinces him, that he is bound to forbear till he obtain tho- rough information. If he hesitate to do wh^t he perceives to be right, or doubt whether he REVIEW OF WHITBY. 257 may not do what he knows to be wrong, he is then indeed in a state of voluntary indifference ; but his understanding, so far from being indif- ferent, condemns him already as guilty of sin- Whatever he may desire and whatever he may do, he is aware that what is right ought to be done, and what is wrong ought to be foreborne. There is no intellectual indifference in a case of this nature, and if there is any voluntary in- difference, the man is self-condemned, and is under the influence of a real moral necessity. Were the approbation of the understanding then, according to Dr. Whitby, the only cause of the volition, man would be infallibly and uniform- ly determined to good and to good only, and be deprived of that liberty for which the Doctor contends, or rather, he should have said, be re- stored to his original and perfect moral freedom. He would always do what he knew to be right, and forbear to do what he knew to be wrong. He might indeed violate a law with which he was utterly unacquainted ; but this would be no ex- ception, and as we have seen implies no guilt. Man would obey according to the full extent of his knowledge, and do nothing which he suspect- ed to be wrong. The terms unfrustrable and infallible, may appear somewhat formidable, but no feebler epithets could be employed to charac- terize the obedience of a moral being, were he to act only upon the dictates of his understanding. ^58 ^'- REVIEW OF WHITBY. The law of gravitation may be suspended, and the planets may be arrested in their course, as we know they have been by the power of the Crea- tor, but so long as these laws are allowed to ope- rate, all bodies infallibly and unfrustrably tend towards the centre of the earth. In like manner, the constitution of man may be altered, but so long as it remains as it is, if Dr. Whitby's prin- ciple be true, he will be uniformly/ and mfalUbly determined to good, and be utterly incapable of committing any known sin. We do not say merely that this would be the case had he re- mained a perfect being, but that he could not possibly have fallen from his first estate ; for we know he did so, and could do so, only by doing what he knew to be wrong. Had his will been determined only by the approbation of his under- standing, he had remained perfect and sinless to the present time, and through the endless dura- tion of eternity. Dr. Whitby, therefore, must either change his definition of liberty, or renounce his principle respecting the determination of the will. The former cannot be rejected, for although utterly false as an account of liberty, it is perfectly true as a description of the present moral condition of man — a depraved being, partly free and partly en- slaved. The latter must be rejected, and with it the proudest and most triumphant of his argu- ments in his Discourse of Free Will^ as well as REVIEW OF WHITBY. '^ ^^i-6^ truth is impossible, and the second is unneces- y''^t<^ sary. It must be held a first principle in Chris- ^ / /». tian philosophy, that " light has come into the ^ world," however we may choose to explain the M^c yt fact, ** that men love darkness rather than 1- light." A revelation which cannot be apprehend- ed and understood is a contradiction, and besides destroys all ground of moral obligation as direct- ly as were men lying under the most hopeless physical necessity. Unless the gospel come and speak to men in plain and intelHgible words, they have no sin in rejecting it. The things of the Spirit, indeed, that is, the operations of the Spirit on the heart of man, and all the moral effects consequent upon his regenerating agency, can- not be understood, unless they are actually pro- duced by the Spirit in the mind of the indivi- dual. But these are not strictly the gospel ; and the facts of Christ and the plain offers made to men in consequence of his death and resur- * Discourse of Sufficient Grace, Chap. I. 264 REVIEW OF WHITBY. rection, are things so intelligible that he who runs may read. This being the case, if man can act always upon the dictates of his understand- ing, it is useless to talk of the agency and influ- ence of the Holy Spirit in his regeneration,; for all the effects which He is said to produce can be accounted for on natural and otherwise con- fessedly Scriptural principles. The mistake of Dr. Whitby and of those Cal- vinistic clergymen who are now so zealously pro- pagating, in somewhat a different shape, the most pernicious of his errors, is in their most unphilo- sophical attempt to explain, not merely the ef- fects, but the mode of the Spirit's operations. Our blessed Redeemer long ago laid down the true and philosophical method of inquiry and the true limits of human knowledge in this sort of causation, which Dr. Brown, in his Essay on Cause and Effect, has since so strikingly illus- trated. As we know the motion of the air by its effects, so we can know the operations of the Holy Spirit, not by what He does to us, but what we are enabled to do in consequence of his agen- cy upon us. All that can be known by us are our own perceptions and feehngs, which are mat- ters of consciousness ; we are not conscious of the immediate acts of the Spirit. These opera- tions are not the legitimate objects of the in- quiries of the philosopher, and assuredly they are no warrantable subject for the minister of the REVIEW OF WHITBY. ^^^i^l^^^'r- Vt^. b*' gospel. If the divine, however, desirous to prac- tise a little the quackery of men of his profession, and to appear profound in the eyes of the ill-in- formed, chooses to talk of them, he must cer- tainly style them physical ; for all the moral acts are our own, and they are the antecedents. The term, physical^ indeed, has a tendency to sug- gest something too gross and material, and, therefore, the term spiritual may, with more pro- priety, be employed ; but it is always to be re- collected, that they are something antecedent both to the intellectual and moral states of mind which are the fruits of the divine influence. To know then the nature and extent of the divine agency, our sole inquiry is, what is it which the gospel requires us to be able to per- form, and what is it which the Christian actual- ly performs, in consequence of the agency of the Spirit of God. We are required to do two things : as intellectual beings, to know and be- lieve the gospel ; as moral agents, to regulate our will and affections according to its principles, and consequently to act upon them. In the former character, we must have faith ; in the latter, we must have faith that worketh on the prin- ciples commanded in the gospel; and that is the faith of the Christian. Now, in order to enable us to perform the first of these requirements, let it be admitted, that the Holy Spirit, after having revealed to us the 4f ^66 REVIEW OF WHITBY. word, enables us, by his direct agency, to form larger, more accurate, and vigorous concep- tions of it. This is certainly true ; but then, let it be recollected, that there is nothing pecu- liar here, and that it is just what one man is confessedly daily in the habit of doing to ano- ther, in a greater or less degree ; and I am dis- posed to believe, that it is not in mere intellect that man is deficient. Frequently has the cold, the formal, the unsanctified theologian, clear and large conceptions of the whole system of Christ- ianity, fully appreciates the amount of evidence by which its truth is demonstrated, contemplates with pleasure the beautiful consistency of all its parts, and elevated on the soaring wing of a vigorous imagination, grasps the loftiest and most sublime conceptions of the majesty, the justice, the mercy of the godhead, displayed in the eco- nomy of salvation ; while the humble, depend- ing, and loving behever labours under much misconception and great obscurity, respecting even the elements of his faith. And every Christian must have experienced that the humi- lity and tenderness of his heart, and submission of his will do not always bear proportion to the activity of his intellect and the vigour of his conceptions. But to proceed, what is it which we need to enable us to regulate our will and affections on the principles of the gospel j or, in other words. REVIEW OP WHITBY. 267 to enable our faith to work on those principles ? To answer this question, we have just to recol- lect what it is on which the existence and strength of affections, desires, and volitions de- pend. If it be upon perceptions alone, nothing more is necessary than right knowledge. Let / / a man know his duty, and he will not fail to per- y'^ [ form it, but will change his own heart, love God ^^^ ^ supremely, and discharge all commanded duty (X^^ as a matter of course ; for he cannot indeed, on ^smjC Dr. Whitby's principle, do otherwise. But if the existence and strength of feeling depend upon the strength of the susceptibilities, or upon the bias, disposition, or tendency of the heart, as well as upon the perception of the ob- ject \ then it is obvious what is required to re- generate a moral being. His depraved heart must be directly renewed as well as his judg- ment enlightened. There are two causes of the evil ; and it were useless to remove one, if the other, and confessedly by far the more power- ful, be allowed still to operate. Dr. Whitby strenuously and justly argues, that it is reason- able to believe that the operations of the Spirit will be suitable to the reason and faculties of man, the understanding and the will. Grant it fully^'; and how is it likely that divine wisdom should proceed to renovate a moral agent? Would it be merely by raising ideas in his brain as the Doctor affirms^? No, assuredly. This 268 REVIEW OF WHITBY. would meet but a small part of the evil. The disease of man is not so much the want of know- ledge as the unwillingness to act upon it ; and how can this so well be removed, as by remov- ing the moral tendency itself. To maintain the sufficiency of mere knowledge is to talk like a man unacquainted with human nature. If the Spirit of God really act with the wisdom of God, and accommodate his operations to the nature of the subject, and the end to be accom- plished, it cannot be doubted, how He will pro- ceed in the renovation of fallen man. To en- lighten the judgment will be one thing, but to re- novate, by a direct act of power, the corrupted heart, will be a greater. This the Christian must daily experience. He is not for ever learning and never coming to the knowledge of the truth; but he finds he daily requires strength from on high. He is not constantly seeking for truth and its evidence ; but he has to pray without ceasing for strength to enable him to act upon truths which he already knows. Well did the Apostles know the inefficiency of mere know- ledge. Happy, says one, is he who ofFendeth not in that which he approveth. That which I do I allow not, says another ; and the reason is, I see a law in my members warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. To such a being, mere knowledge could never effect his REVIEW OF WHITBY. ^69 moral renovation ; and did not the Holy Spirit act according to the principles of our nature, and to renovate the heart, remove both the causes of its depravity, never had the Apostle, with the gratitude of a faith which worketh by love, thanked God through Jesus Christ our Lord. The doctrine then that knowledge is all that is required in order to renovate the human heart is utterly untenable, both upon the principles of the human constitution, the testimony of the sa- red Scriptures, and the evidence of Christian ex- perience. To confute the idea that intellectual belief is all that is necessary to constitute the Christian, we have just to point to the fact, that man is a moral being, whose will therefore de- termines his character, and that his volitions de- pend as much upon the susceptibilities and bias of his heart as upon the nature of his perceptions. If we look to the sacred Scriptures, they every where describe man as doing what they well know to be wrong, and as hating the light, not because they see it not, but because their deeds, and hence their wills from which their actions proceed, are evil. And if Christian experience is appealed to, how decidedly does it prove the uselessness of all knowledge to convert the heart and govern the will of a corrupted moral being ? Even the man who may know all mysteries and knowledge, whose heart has been regenerated by the Spirit of God, and who has advanced far to- ^0 REVIEW OF WHITBY. wards perfection, is still groaning under a body of sin, and by the remaining corruption of his heart, is compelled to confess, that the good which we would he does not, but that the evil which he would not that he does. Let us not then seek to accommodate facts to hypotheses, and talk of the efficacy of truth and evidence to effect the moral renovation of man, till we practically deny the agency of the Holy Spirit. Let us rather imitate the sacred writers, who fear- lessly display the extent of the disease and the hopeless degeneracy of the human heart; for they know that they proclaim a remedy more than sufficient for all its wants. No perception of evidence, they maintain, and no knowledge of truth, however well adapted to its end and how much soever it may effect, can renew the dege- nerate heart and rescue the man from bondage ; but they proclaim the Spirit of God — who at first created the thinking mind and the feeling soul, as the only source of all sanctiiication and free- dom to his fallen creature. Why then conceal the evil, when so mighty a deliverer is prepared ? The Creator has become the Redeemer : is He not able to renovate the corrupted heart, as well as to enlighten the darkened mind ?* * Note a APPENDIX. Note A. Volition. — Dr. Brown's account of volition is so just and so satisfactory, that it may gratify the reader to see it more at large. *' The term will, in its application to a process which is partly mental and partly organic, is not denied to be a convenient term for expressing those desires which have in- stant termination in a muscular motion, which is their object, to distinguish them from desires which relate to objects not directly and immediately attainable, and therefore not ac- companied with the belief of direct and immediate attain- ment ; but still it must not be forgotten, that the mental part of the sequence, the momentary feeling which exists in our consciousness alone, and ceases almost as soon as it rises, is a desire that differs not from other desires more than those others mutually differ.*** We are hence often said inaccurately to will, as if, in the process, there were two feelings of the mind, a desire and a volition, so essentially different in their nature, that the will was the choice of what was not desira- ble. Thus if any one be compelled to support a weight on his outstretched arm, under a fear of a more painful punish- ment if he should draw it back, and experience, as in that situation he must soon experience, a degree of fatigue which is almost insupportable ; if he still continue to keep his arm extended, he will be said, in the common language of philo- sophers, to will the very pain which he cannot be suppos-- 272 APPENDIX. ed to desire. But the direct object of his desire is not the motion of his arm ; it is simply relief from pain : and the direct object of his continued will is not the continuance of pain ; it is simply the extension of his arm. He knows in- deed that relief from pain will be immediately procured by drawing back his arm ; but he knows also that a severer pun- ishment will follow that motion ; and, therefore, preferring the less pain to the greater, he directly desires or wills the continued extension of his arm, as what alone can preserve him from greater suffering. If the direct object of his desire were not relief from pain, but the actual muscular motion which would bring down his weary arm, there can be no doubt that the motion of his arm would immediately ensue. " * With regard to our actions,' says Dr. Reid, * we may desire what we do not will, and will what we do not desire, nay, what we have a great aversion to. A man athirst has a strong desire to drink, but for some particular reason, he de- termines not to gratify his desire. A judge, from a regard to justice and the duty of his office, dooms a criminal to die, while from his humanity or particular affection, he desires the criminal to live. A man for health may take a nauseous draught, for which he has no desire but a great aversion. Desire, therefore, even when its object is some action of our own, is only an. incitement to will, but it is not volition. The determination of the mind may be not to do what we desire to do.' " In all these instances adduced by Dr. Reid, his mistake consists in neglecting or forgetting that part of the process, in which there is a real opposition of desires, and supposing an opposition in another part of the process in which there is really none ; for in no one of the instances, is there the smallest opposition, in that particular desire on which the action immediately depends, and which must, therefore, according to his own system, be denominated by him the will. The determination of the mind never is, and never can be to do what, in the particular circumstances of the moment, we do not desire to do. When we take a nauseous APPENDIX. ^73 draught, there is a dislike indeed of the sensation which follows the motion, but there is no dislike of the motion it- self, which alone depends upon our will, and which is de- sired by us, not from any love of the disagreeable sensation which follows it — for a love of what is disagreeable would be an absurd contradiction of terms — but from our greater dis- like of that continuance of bad health, which we suppose to be the probable consequence of omitting the motion. The desire of moving the hand and the muscles of deglutition ; or to use a word which Dr. Reid would have preferred, the will to move them, is a state of mind as different and as distinguishable from the dislike of bad health as from the dislike of the draught. It is a new feeling to which the wide view of many feelings has given birth — a desire, not of pleasure in the draught, but of a less evil in one of two unavoidable evils. ** In like manner a judge who condemns a criminal to death, when, if he yielded to his humanity alone, he would spare him, does not will a single action which he is not desirous of performing, whatever opposition there may have been in those primary desires, of which his secondary desires or will is not a part but only the consequence. He has a desire of saving from death an unfortunate individual, but he has a desire of the public good, aud of acting in a manner worthy of his high station. Both these desires exist previously to those that are termed his volitions, by which alone in the muscular motion that follows them, he dooms the criminal to death ; the tinal will to utter the awful words of punish- ment, arising only from the belief of greater good upon the whole, in the same manner as the desire of fame, arising from the contemplation of fame, or any other desire from the con- templation of its object." — Cause and Effect, p. 56 — 58. President Edwards was long ago of the same opinion re- specting the identity of desire with volition. " God," says he, " has endued the soul with two faculties : one is that by which it is capable of perception and speculation, or by which it discerns, and views, and judges of things ; M'hich is T 274" APPENDIX. called the understanding. The other faculty is that by which the soul does not merely perceive and view things, but is some way inclined with respect to the things it views or con- siders ; either is inclined to them, or is disinclined and averse from ihem : or is the faculty •by which the soul does not be- hold things, as an indifferent unaffected spectator, but either as liking or disliking, pleased or displeased, approving or re- jecting. This faculty is called by various names ; it is some- times called the incl'niation : and, as it has respect to the ac- tions that are determined and governed by it, is called the will: and the mind, with regard to the exercises of this fa- culty, is often called the heart. " The will, and the affectioiis of the soul, are not two facul- ties ; the affections are not essentially distinct from the will, nor do they differ from the mere actings of the will and incli- nation of the soul, but only in the liveliness and sensibleness of exercise. " It must be confessed, that language is here somewhat im- perfect, and the meaning of words in a considerable measure loose and unfixed, and not precisely limited by custom, which governs the use of language. In some sense, the affection of the soul differs nothing at all from the will and inclination, and the will never is in any exercise any further than it is affected ; it is not moved out of a state of perfect indifference, any otherwise than as it is affected one way or other, and acts nothing any farther. But yet there are many actings of the will and inclination, that are not so commonly called affeC' tions: in every thing we do, wherein we act voluntarily, there is an exercise of the will and inclination, it is our inclination that governs us in our actions : but all the actings of the in- clination and will, in all our common actions of life, are not or- dinarily called affections. Yet, . hat are commonly called af- fections are not essentially different from them, but only in the degree and manner of exercise. In every act of the will whatsoever, the soul either likes or dislikes, is either inclined or disinclined to what is in view : these are not essentially different from those affections of love and hatred ; that liking APPENDIX. 275 or inclination of the soul to a thing, if it be in a high degree, and be vigorous and lively, is the very same thing with the atfection of love : and that disliking and disinclining, if in a great degree, is the very same with hatred. In every act of the w'lW for, or towards something not present, the soul is in some degree inclined to that thing ; and that inclination, if in a considerable degree, is the very same with the affection of desire. And in every degree of the act of the will where- in the soul approves of something present, there is a degree of pleasedness ; and tliat pleasedness, if it be in a consider- able degree, is the very same with the affection of joy or c?e- light. And if the will disapproves of what is present, the soul is in some degree displeased, and if that displeasedness be great, it is the very same with the affection of grief or sorrow." — Treatise on the Affections, p. 4, 5. Note B. Association. — Dr. Brown was the first philosophical wri- ter who gave any thing like a true account of the principle of association. He divides his laws of suggestion inio primary and secondary, under the former comprehending the relations among the objects perceived ; under the latter, the acciden- tal circumstances in the feelings and states of the mind itself which modify the associations. The primary laws of associ- ation he attempts to reduce to one general principle, that of prior co-existence or immediate proximity. A late writer, the Rev. Mr. Ballantyne, in a work entitled an Examim nation of the Human Mind, has further improved on the principle of Dr. Brown, and most satisfactorily proved that the great principle of association is the mere fact oi precedence, that is, as he states it, " an idea acquires power to suggest an- other by immediately preceding it,"or in other words, the mind thinks on things in the same order in which it first perceived them. This is a very simple principle, and is well known to all mankind ; and has certainly been obscured, like many other very simple subjects, by the attempts of philosophers to ex- 276 APPENDIX. plain it. The man perceives nature as she really is, magnificent in her simplicity : when the philosopher sits down to explain what all men distinctly know, he obscures his subject in order to be profound. If we have a mind capable of perceiving things and of retaining the knowledge of them ; why should it not remember them in the same order in which it perceived them ? If we see the objects, A, B, C, in a certain order, in thinking of the same objects, how should we think of them otherwise than as placed one before the other in the given order. As the object of perception is to obtain a knowledge bf things as they really are, in like manner the object of con- ception and memory is just to retain the knowledge of what has been actually perceived. Were our mental power greater, we should be capable of forming conceptions of more complex objects, and might possibly contemplate all our knowledge at at once, as a complex object of thought, and then association would be unnecessary ; but since our limited faculties render this impossible, it is plain that the natural method is to think of things in the order in whicli, to our perceptions, they real- ly exist. There is then no mystery in the general principle of association, as consisting in mere precedence. The word memory, as vulgarly understood, accurately and fully states the whole doctrine of intellectual association. We cannot remember or think of all things at once ; we therefore think of objects in the order in which they were at first perceived, till we have had before our mind the whole of any class of objects which it is necessary to contemplate. But though precedence is the only law of association which re- gards objects as perceived by us, it by no means accounts for the order in whieh numbers of thoughts are found to occur. In committing to memory the alphabet, lists of words. Sec. which excite no sensible emotion, it is true that it is the only cir- cumstance which guides our train of ideas, or, in other words, the mind passes along the list in the order in which the ob- jects there occur ; but when emotion is excited, this law of precedence is found to exert comparatively little influence. Dr. Brown has accordingly given us a number of circumstan- ces, which he styles secondary laws of suggestion ; by which APPENDIX. S77 he accounts for many of the trains of ideas which do not follow the primary laws which he had formerly given. Mr. Ballan- tyne attempts to reduce these to his law of precedence ; but, it must be confessed, that he has not been successful. Some of Dr. Brown's secondary laws, indeed, may be reduced to Mr. Ballantyne's principle, and some of them are to be reduc- ed to other principles ; but there are at least three or four of them which completely support the distinction which Dr. Brown intended to establish. Mr. Ballantyne, in his sum- mary attempt to reduce them to his own law, virtually admits this by saying, that the law of precedence, " like all others, necessarily leads to different results, according to the differ- ence of circumstances in which it operates, whether these be constitutional differences or accidental ones." This is true ; but then it is just those circumstances which Dr. Brown wishes to ascertain, which, he justly observes, exert so exten- sive an influence in modifying and directing the general prin- ciple of association. Besides, the whole of Mr. Ballantyne's voluntary principle, which he describes as the poiver of detaining ideas, &c. is just an illustration of Dr. Brown's secondary laws. The secondary laws of Dr. Brown are plainly designed, though that acute philosopher passed rather lightly over the subject, to illustrate the influence which the volitions, the desires, and emotions exer- cise in directing the thinking principle. His first, sixth, seventh, and eighth, are decidedly of this character, and plainly evince that the great fact he intended to illustrate, is the influence which our sentient nature exercises over the operations of tlie intellectual. But not to pursue this controversy, every one who regards his own consciousness is aware, that he does not always think on objects in the same order of precedence in which he perceived them ; but that those which are connected with desire and feeling frequently arrest the attention, and hence guide the train of thought. All this, indeed, Mr. Ballantyne has well illustrated, in reducing attention and abstraction to his voluntary principle. Taking up, therefore, Dr. Brown's 278 APPENDIX. secondary laws of suggestion as intended to express tlie in- fluence which the volitions, desires, and feelings .generally exercise over our intellectual activity, we have only to in- quire what are the laws of this sentient association. It is plain, every sensation, emotion and feeling of our nature which is known by us to be related to any idea, is a law of associa- tion, — that is, a circumstance which guides the thinking mind in passing from one thought to another. Any enume- ration therefore of the secondary laws of suggestion must be simply a list of the feelings of our sentient nature ; and in different individuals they will vary, of course, according to the number of feelings which their circumstances and men- tal cultivation may have excited and called into vigorous action. Hence the simplicity and efficiency of the associating prin- ciple. The pure intellect thinks of things as they really are, and in the order in which they have been perceived ; the sentient principle leads us to think of them according as they are more important and interesting to us. By the for- mer, we retain the knowledge of facts ; by the latter, these facts, in proportion as they are more or less important, are made the objects of contemplation. This association is so well adapted to our present state, that, a priori, one could have almost inferred that in some such way the mind would conduct its operations. The intelligent being requires to know truth, and therefore he remembers things as they are; the voluntary being requires to act for his own interest, and therefore the tendency of sentient association is to induce him to think on those objects in which he has most inte- rest. Besides these two principles of association, there is another part of our nature which regards both the mental operations and the feelings, as well the mechanical powers. This fact is styled habit. Dr. Brown, in his too great love of simpli- city, endeavoured to reduce this principle to suggestion ; and it is no doubt true, that it belongs to suggestion as well as to all the other faculties. He was led perhaps to attempt APPENDIX, 279 this reduction from the mistake of Dr. Reid and other phi- losophers, who seemed disposed to consider it a separate fa- culty, which it assuredly is not. It is nothing but a fact which regards all our powers, the corporal as well as mental. The muscles of the workman become strong by toil, as well as the thinking powers of the philosopher by frequent thought. Had Dr. Brown more carefully considered his own just description of habit, he could not have considered it ca- pable of the reduction which he attempted. " The nature of habit may be considered in two lights ; as it produces a great- er tendency to certain actions, and as it occasions greater fa- cility and excellence in those particular actions." * It is plain, that such a principle cannot be reduced to suggestion, nor any other faculty whatever, but must be considered a law of our nature which regards all our powers and suscepti- bilities. Suggestion is just the fact that we think on one thing after another ; but that we more easily run over a train of ideas which we have frequently thought upon, or have those feelings more keenly which we have often indulged, or feel those members of the body stronger which we often employ, cannot, it is plain, be reduced to this principle. Habit is nothing but a general law of our constitution, which less or more influences all our fiiculties. Let us form one con- ception after another repeatedly, and we will find greater ease in running from thought to thought. Let us indulge any feeling, and its action will gradually become more in- tense. This fact then, considered as modifying the operations of intellect and the influence of feeling, will render the subject of association easy, and perfectly adequate to account for all the phenomena. Let any man attend to his own con- sciousness, and he will discover, that, when feeling is not ex- cited, and volition not active in directing his train of thought, but the thinking principle is allowed to act at pleasure, he will think on objects just as he perceived them, or has been • Lecture XLIIL ^80 APPENDIX. accustomed to conceive them. Very few instances however occur in which the mind is left perfectly free to follow the law of its own essential activity. In the most sluggish moment of castle-building, the desires and tendencies of the heart, almost unconsciously insinuate themselves ; and the man is always found to think on what he loves, or on objects which are most interesting to his feelings. But in every case it will be found, either that the man is following the law of intellect, and thinking of objects in the order in which they have been perceived, or that his affections and will are selecting their favourite objects and guiding the thinking mind to the ideas by which they obtain most gratification. The practical conclusions to be derived from the true prin- ciple of association are numerous and important. Dr. Brown and Mr. Ballantyne are justly entitled to the praise of having done more to explain the manner of its action than any writ- ers with whom I am acquainted. Now that we have been put upon the true principle, much is to be done in the legi- timate application, and it is to be fondly hoped that some truly inductive philosopher may take it up, and apply it to the arts of education, study, &c. There is a rich and ex- tensive field still unexplored, which would abundantly re- ward his labours. The fact that the pure thinking principle forms its conceptions of thin^js exactly in the order in which it perceives them, and that every feeling acts as an associating principle to direct the train of thought, would enable him to explain a multitude of phenomena in a manner that a certain sect of modern materialists and fatalists might attempt in vain- The feelings of our sentient nature must be allowed to depend upon the body, since they are common to the brutes ; and the truth that the immaterial and immortal spirit has now its operations modified by its connection with the sentient nature, would explain a multitude of somewhat un- accountable facts, without driving us to materialism and fa- talism, with their invariable attendants, scepticism and moral degradation. The abettors of such systems first endeavour APPENDIX. 281 to prove an immortal being a brute, and then sedulously try to make him so, in order to bear out their conclusion. Note E. (page 132.) Detenninaiion of the Will. — Mr. Locke's views of the mode in which the will is determined are so admirably just, and illustrate so clearly both the nature of volition and the source of moral necessity, that I cannot forbear presenting them to the reader. By uneasiness he plainly means what Dr. Brown and President Edwards have called desire, which always arises from uneasiness. *• § 31. To return then to the inquiry, What is it that determines the ivill in regard to our actions ? And that upon second thoughts I am apt to imagine is not, as is generally supposed, the greater good in view ; but some (and for the most part the most pressing) uneasiness a man is at present under. This is that which successively determines the will, and sets us upon those actions we perform. This uneasi^ ness we may call, as it is, desire, which is an uneasiness of the mind for want of some absent good. All pain of the body, of what sort soever, and disquiet of the mind, is uneasiness : And with this is always joined desire, equal to the pain or 7ineasiness felt ; and is scarce distinguishable from it. For desire being nothing but an uneasiness in the want of an ab- sent good, in reference to any pain felt, ease is that absent good ; and until that ease be attained we may call it desire, nobody feeling pain, that he wishes not to be eased of, with a desire equal to that pain, and inseparable from it. Besides this desire of ease from pain, there is another of absent posi- tive good, and here also the desire and uneasiness is equal. As much as we desire any absent good, so much are we in pain for it. But here all absent good does not, according to the greatness it has, or is acknowledged to have, cause pain equal to that greatness ; as all pain causes desire equal to itself; Because the absence of good is not always a pain, as the pre- ^82 APPENDIX. sence of pain is. And therefore absent good may be looked on, and considered without desire. But so much as there is any where of desire, so much there is of uneasiness. " § 32. That desire is a state of uneasiness, every one who reflects on himself will quickly find. Who is there, that has not felt in desire, what the wise man says of hope, (which is not much different from it) that it being deferred makes the heart sick ? And that still proportionable to the greatness of the desire, which sometimes raises the uneasiness to that pitch, that it makes people cry out, give me children, give me the thing desired, or I die ? Life itself, and all its enjoy- ments, is a burden which cannot be borne under the lasting and unremoved pressure of such an tineasiness. " § S3. Good and evil, present and absent, 'tis true, work upon the mind ; but that which immediately determines the will, from time to time, to every voluntary action, is the un- easiness of desire, fixed on some absent good, either negative, as indolency to one in pain ; or positive, as enjoyment of plea- sure. That it is this iineasiness, that determines the will to the successive voluntary actions, whereof the greatest part of our lives is made up, and by which we are conducted through different courses to different ends, I shall endeavour to show both from experience, and the reason of the thing. '* § 34. When a man is perfectly content with the state he is in, which is when he is perfectly without any uneasiness, what industry, what action, what ivill is there left, but to continue in it .'' Of this every man's observation will satisfy him. And thus we see our all-wise Maker, suitable to our constitution and frame, and knowing what it is that deter- mines the will, has put into man the uneasijiess of hunger and thirst, and other natural desires, that return at their sea- sons, to move and determine their ivills, for the preservation of themselves, and the continuation of their species. For I think we may conclude, that, if the bare contemplation of these good ends, to which we are carried by these several uneasinesses, had been sufficient to determine the will, and set us on work, we should have had none of these natu- APPENDIX, S8S ral pains, and perhaps in this world little or no pain at all. It is better to marry than to hum, says St. Paul; where we may see, what it is that chiefly drives men into the enjoy- ments of a conjugal life. A little burning felt pushes us more powerfully, than greater pleasures in prospect draw or allure. " § 35. It seems so established and settled a maxim by the general consent of all mankind, that good, the greater good, determines the will, that I do not at all wonder, that when I first published my thoughts on this subject, 1 took it for grant- ed ; and I imagine, that by a great many I shall be thought more excusable, for having then done so, than that now I have ventured to recede from so received an opinion. But yet, upon a stricter inquiry, lam forced to conclude, that good, the greater good, though apprehended and acknowledged to be so, does not determine the irill, until our desire, raised pro- portionably to it, makes us uneasy in the want of it. Con- vince a man never so much, that plenty has its advantages over poverty ; make him see and own, that the handsome conveniences of life are better than nasty penury ; yet as long as he is content with the latter, and finds no uneasiness in it, he moves not ; his will is never determined to any action that shall bring him out of it. Let a man be ever so well persuaded of the advantages of virtue, that it is as ne- cessary to a man, who has any great aims in this world, or hopes in the next, as food to life : Yet till he Jmngers and thirds after righteousness ; 'till he feels an tineasiness in the want of it, his 7vili' will not be determined to any action in pursuit of this confessed greater good ; but any other un- easiness he feels in himself, shall take place, and carry his will to other actions. On the other side, let a drunkard see that his health decays, his estate wastes ; discredit and dis- eases, and the want of all things, even of his beloved drink, attends him in the course he follows : yet the returns of un- easiness to miss his companions, the habitual thirst after his cups, at the usual time, drives him to the tavern, though he has in his view the loss of health and plenty, and perhaps of 284 APPENDIX. the joys of another life: the least of which is no inconsidera- ble good, but such as he confesses, is far greater than the tickling of his palate with a glass of wine, or the idle chat of a soaking club, "fis not for want of viewing the greater good ; for he sees, and acknowledges it, and in the intervals of his drinking hours, will take resolutions to pursue the greater good ; but when the uneasiness to miss his accustom- ed delight returns, the greater acknowledged good loses its hold, and the present uneasiness determines the will to the accustomed action ; which thereby gets stronger footing to prevail against the next occasion, though he, at the same time, makes secret promises to himself, that he will do so no more ; this is the last time he will act against the attain- ment of those greater goods. And thus he is, from time to time, in the state of that unhappy complainer, video ineliora jiroboque, deteriora sequor ; which sentence, allowed for true, and made good by constant experience, may this, and possibly no other way, be easily made intelligible. § 36*. If we inquire into the reason of what experience makes so evident in fact, and examine why 'tis uneasiness alone operates on the will, and determines it in its choice, we shall find, that we being capable but of one determination of the will to one action at once, the present uneasiness that we are under, does naturally determine the will, in order to that happiness which we all aim at in all our actions ; for as much as whilst we were under any uneasiness, we cannot apprehend ourselves happy, or in the way to it. Pain and uneasiness being, by every one, concluded, and felt, to be inconsistent with happiness ; spoiling the relish, even of those good things which we have : a little pain serving to marr all the pleasure we rejoiced in. And therefore, that which of course determines the choice of our will to the next action, will always be the removing of pain, as long as we have any left, as the first and necessary step towards happi- ness. § 37. Another reason why 'tis uneasiness alone determines the will, may be this. Because that alone is present, and APPENDIX. ^85 'tis against the nature of things, that what is absent should operate where it is not. It may be said, that absent good may by contemphition be brought home to the mind, and made present. The idea of it, indeed, may be in the mind and viewed as present there ; but nothing will be in the mind as a present good, able to counterbalance the removal of any uneasiness which we are under, till it raises our de- sire, and the uneasiness of that has the prevalency in deter- mining the will. Till then the idea in the mind of whatever good, is there only like other ideas, the object of bare un- active speculation ; but operates not on the will, nor sets us on work : the reason whereof I shall shew by and bye. How many are to be found, that have had lively representations set before their minds of the unspeakable joys of heaven, which they acknowledge both possible and probable too, who yet would be content to take up with their happiness here ? And so the prevailing uneasiness of their desires, let loose after the enjoyments of this life, take their turns in the de- termining their willv, and all that while they take not one step, are not one jot moved, towards the good things of an- other life, considered as ever so great. " § 38. Were the fvill determined by the views of good, as it appears in contemplation greater or less to the under- standing, which is the state of all absent good, and that which in the received opinion, the will is supposed to move to, and to be moved by, I do not see how it could ever get loose from the infinite eternal joys of heaven, once proposed and considered as possible. For all absent good, by which alone, barely proposed, and coming in view, the w/// is thought to be determined, and so to set us on action, being only pos- sible, but not infallibly certain, it is unavoidable, that the in- finitely greater possible good should regularly and constantly determine the 7vill in all the successive actions it directs ; and then we should keep constantly and steadily in our course towards heaven, without ever standing still, or directing our actions to any other end : The eternal condition of a fu- ture state infinitely out-weighing the expectation of riches. ^86 APPliNDIX. or honour, or any other worldly pleasure, which we can pro- pose to ourselves, though we should grant these the more probable to be attained : For nothing future is yet in posses- sion, and so the expectation even of these may deceive us. If it were so, that the greater good in view determines the will, so great a good once proposed could not but seize the willy and hold it fast to the pursuit of this infinitely greatest good, without ever letting it go again: For the will having a power over, and directing the thoughts, as well as other actions, would, if it were so, hold the contemplation of the mind fixed to that good. "This would be the state of the mind, and regular tendency of the will in all its determinations, were it determined by that which is considered, and in view the greater good ; but that it is not so, is visible in experience. The infinitely greatest confessed good being often neglected, to satisfy the successive uneasiness of our desires pursuing trifles. But though the greatest allowed, even everlasting unspeakable good, which has sometimes moved, and affected the mind, does not steadfastly hold the will, yet we see any very great and prevailing uneasiness, having once laid hold on the rvill, lets it not go ; by which we may be convinced, what it is that determines the wilL Thus any vehement pain of the body; the ungovernable passion of a man violently in love ; or the impatient desire of revenge, keeps the will steady and in- tent ; and the will thus determined, never lets the under- standing lay by the object, but all the thoughts of the mind, and powers of the body are uninterruptedly employed that way, by the determinations of the will, influenced by that topping u?ieasi?iess, as long as it lasts ; whereby it seems to me evident, that the jvill, or power of setting us upon one action in preference to all other, is determined in us by wra- easiness ; And whether this be not so, I desire every one to observe in himself. " § 40. But we being in this world beset with sundry un- easinesses, distracted with difi^erent desires^ the next inquiry naturally will be, which of them has the precedency in deter- APPENDIX. 287 mining the fvill to the next action ? And to that the answer is, that ordinarily, which is the most pressing of those that are judged capable of being then removed. For the will being the power of directing our operative faculties to some action, for some end, cannot at any time be moved towards what is judged at that time unattainable; That would be to suppose an intelligent being designedly to act for an end, only to lose its labour ; for so it is to act for what is judged not attainable ; and therefore very great uneasinesses move not the will, when they are judged not capable of a cure : They, in that case, put us not upon endeavours. But these set apart, the most important and urgent uneasiness we at that time feel, is that which ordinarily determines the will successively, in that train of voluntary actions, which make up our lives. The greatest present uneasiness is the spur to action that is constantly felt ; and for the most part deter- mines the will in its choice of the next action. For this we must carry along with us, that the proper and only object of the will is some action of ours, and nothing else. For we producing nothing, by our willing it, but some action in our power, it is there the will terminates, and reaches no far- ther. — Human Understanding, Book II. Chap. 21. NoteE. (Page 173.) Faith.— Against the view of faith which has been given in the note, it may be still urged that to conceive man to co-oper- ate, to such an extent, in the application of redemption, tends to abridge our estimation of the grace of God, displayed in the Christian economy. This objection may arise from partial views of the subject, but as it is naturally that of a soul hum- bled by a sense of its own unworthiness and weakness, and jealous for the glory of God, to whom it owes in a twofold sense its all, it deserves the most candid and explicit an- swer. Let us just glance at the extent of the grace of God in the economy of redemption. When man by his own guilty 288 APPENDIX. act had cast himself from his primitive state of dignity and glory, and exposed himself and all his posterity to hopeless ruin, God interposed and provided a Redeemer in the person of his only begotten Son. This surely was an act purely of sovereign grace. Now that Christ has died for our sins and risen .again for our justification, we deserve no more than thousands of others who are sitting in the region of the sha- dow of death, to be favoured with the knowledge of the gos- pel ; and it did not depend on us whether or not we should have been favoured with it, as we now so liberally are. That we hear the gospel therefore is another instance of the sovereign grace of God. Here, as rational and moral agents, we are required to begin to co-operate ; but though we should by study and depth of thought understand all the mysteries of the gospel as well as an Apostle, be thoroughly convinced of their truth, by the examination of evidence, me- ditate night and day upon them, and moved by the faith which worketh by fear, pray without ceasing ; never could we trust on Christ for pardon of sins and sanctification of heart, and never could we truly love Him and be in a state of salva- tion, — until by another act of unmerited grace we obtain the gift of the Holy Ghost to create us a new and restore a right spirit within us. And it is not here that the grace of God terminates. After, by the power of the Holy Ghost, a man has been rendered a true believer, he cannot continue so, un- less supported by the same Spirit, who renewed his heart and enabled him at first to believe. He must be kept by the potver of God through faith unto salvation ; and this is no less of grace, for the idea of sinful beings having any merit such as to give them a right to the gifts of God, is an utter con- tradiction. Thus sovereign grace provided a Saviour, — sove- reign grace sends us the knowledge of Him, — unmerited and sovereign grace enables us to believe upon Him with the only saving faith, the faith which worketh by love, — and still un- merited, sovereign, and long-suflTering grace supports us through all the difficulties, and aggravated backslidings of life, till it introduce us to the kingdom prepared APPENDIX. 281) for us before the foundation of the world. In this amazing work of sovereign mercy, the co-operation of man, so far from obscuring the lustre of the grace of God, renders the whole in the highest degree beautiful, and consistent at once with the wisdom, the veracity, the justice, and the faithfulness of God, and the moral nature and responsibility of man. Not to speak at present of its consistency wiih the attributes of God, if man could not understand the great truths of the gos- pel, when presented to him, or not appreciate their evidence, there could be no ground, as we formerly showed, for moral obligation. And if man, on hearing and believing the truth of the gospel, cannot, as he is, pray for the gift of the Holy Ghost, but must, in some mysterious and unaccountable way, be renovated and made holy before he come to Christ to ask the spirit of regeneration and sanctification, the offer of the gospel is no longer free and of sovereign grace, but loaded with the most impossible of all conditions. The freeness and sovereign grace of the gospel consists in this, that the halt and the maimed, the blind, the diseased, and the unclean are invited just as they are, convinced as rational beings that there is but one way of salvation and as sentient beings desiring deliverance from misery, to come to Christ to obtain freely from his hand pardon of sins, sanctification of soul, and deliverance from all their miseries. This is truly sovereign grace. The Almighty, in perfect consistence with all his attributes, accommodating himself to the fallen state of his moral creatures, sunk by their sin to a degree of degradation but one step superior to that of the brutes, stoops to the condition of man to raise the sinful, the undeserving, and the wretched to holiness, honour and glory. Deny man's ability to understand the great facts of the gospel, when fairly presented to him, and to seek those blessings which are held forth, and let the most able disputant, if he can, rebut the unhallowed charges of the in- fidel, not against confessedly mysterious truths, but against the plainest doctrines of Christianity. And, indeed, to say that a man cannot do very much, without any regenerating influence of the Holy Spirit, is in u 290 APPENDIX. direct Disposition to the plainest testimony of Scripture. Did not Saul the Pharisee do much? did not the young ruler? did not the five foolish virgins, who, with the full assurance of faith, were waiting for the coming of the bridegroom, and multitudes of others — all do much without the regenerating power of grace ? To say then that men can do nothing in the receiv- ing of the gospel, besides denying the freeness and the so- vereignty of the grace of God, by clogging it with impossi- ble conditions, lays a most dangerous snare for souls. Let a man who has been taught that he can do nothing, feel that he actually has the most orthodox belief of all the doctrines of the gospel, and moreover, is a very decent moral Christian, as it is termed, and has he not reason to believe, not only that he is a regenerated man, but is to a high degree sancti- fied ? There is some awful delusion of this sort, lurking under, what, in the elation of spiritual pride, we style our Calmnistic orthodoxy. So true it is, as a sound Calvinist justly observes, that corrupted man mars and defiles every thing he touches. The very grace of God, when he attempts, in the plenitude of his wisdom not in the humility of his soul, to magnify it, is converted into a snare to deceive and ruin souls. There is another objection to the view of faith which I am attempting to illustrate, which deserves a moment's at- tention. If a man, it is said, really believes that Christ is able and willing to save him, and is so desirous of salvation as to be enabled to pray sincerely for saving faith, why may he not believe for salvation at once } It seems contradictory that he should not. This is the objection of a man who may know the theory of the gospel, but who is unacquainted with his own heart. The gospel is a very simple thing, but the heart is deceitful above all things ; and therefore the application even of the most obvious truths of the gospel to such a heart, is the most difficult thing in the universe. The unrenewed heart exhibits a host of contradictions, and practises a multitude of deceptions upon itself; and did not APPENDIX. 291 the power of God apply the gospel, the wisest and most honest of men would deceive themselves to their own de- struction. It is true that when a man first hears the gospel, the way is completely cleared, and there is no reason, on the part of God, why he should not as readily exercise saving faith then as at any future period. The obstacle is in himself, and is his sin, in as much as it is the consequence of his depravity. It is also true that if he distinctly apprehend the facts of the gospel, and on sufficient evidence believe their truth, so far as knowledge is concerned, there is no reason why he should not have saving faith ; for he will nev€r obtain any other mere belief, different from this. But faith is not the mere assent to the general truths of the gos- pel: it is an act of the will also, as has been shown, acquies- ing in those truths, and receiving and deriving something to one's self, in consequence of the things which are believed. Now when believing the general truths of the gospel, there is a mighty difference between the desire to escape from sin from dread of its consequences, and the desire to be delivered from sin, as such, and to obtain righteousness. Nobody will doubt but a man may have the former desire, while he has no desire of the righteousness of Christ, and feels no want of it, and has no hatred of sin and no love of holiness. In this consists the vast difference between natural faith and the faith of the operation of the Spirit of God. The direct object of the natural man's faith is deliverance from punish- ment, and he is only constrained to submit to part with sin in order to obtain impunity : the direct and principal object of the faith of the regenerate man is deliverance from sin itself and perfect holiness. This is the leading and general dis- tinction ; but it must be recollected, that even the saint is not yet perfect, and his heart contains a sad mixture of con- tradictory motives. Let then a man who is acting upon the natural faith which worketh by fear examine his heart, and he will soon discover how strong a propensity he has to self-righteousness, and how averse he is to the righteousness of Christ, cqn- S92 APPENDIX. wdered apart from its consequences. To obtain salvation, he \yoiild become a pharisee and submit to all the rigours of the law ; he would become a monk, and endure all the hard- ships of the desert and the cave ; he would become a brah- man, and suffer the horror of years of torture, rather than, renouncing his own desire and feeling of merit, trust for righteousness simply because the Redeemer is righteous. Here lies the peculiar work of the Spirit of God ; and every thing but this, I am persuaded, the natural conscience can effect. Without divine aid, he may soon obtain faith, even the full assurance of faith, which is by no means so dif- ficult to obtain as some imagine — the foolish virgins had it in a very high degree ; but it will not be the faith which trusts principally for righteousness, and which consequently work- eth by love. It will be the faith of the antinomian or pharisee ; or rather, for both these spring from the same root, the faith of a carnal heart deceiving itself by the fancy of the safeness of its state. There is one most delusive form which this faith assumes which, in the present times, particularly de- serves notice. The professed legalist, contemplating his con- victions of sin, his legal repentance, his reformation, his good works, his knowledge, his prayers, feels whole and needs not a physician : the false believer, of whom I now speak, trusts that his sins are pardoned, and that he shall obtain everlast- ing life, not for his own works indeed, but he makes his be- lieving of the doctrines of the gospel the ground of his confi- dence. His assenting to gospel truth becomes, in his mind, truly a work of law, and separates him as really from the atonement of Christ as were he a professed legalist, looking for justification by his observance of the Jewish ceremonial. He derives that moral satisfaction which appeases his con- science, not from the simple fact, that Christ died, but from the fact that he believes it. He finds the atonement of Christ an insufficient ground of his confidence, and feels that he requires to add something of his own, and in this case it is his own believing of general doctrine, to complete the foundation of his faith. The true believer looks for pardon APPENDIX. 293 solely on account of Christ's death : the false believer trusts also for pardon, but on account of Christ's death and his own believing together. The foith of the former is the hand, as has been well said, by which he lays hold on Christ and re- ceives directly from his hand all the blessings of salvation : the fnith of the latter is both the hand which gives and re- ceives, or rather, his believing general doctrine is the hand which gives, and his trusting to it for salvation is the hand which receives. Christ and his righteousness is the direct and only ground of true faith for salvation : our own assent- ing to the truth of the gospel is the direct and immediate ground of false faith. The source of peace and comfort to the one, is Christ dying for his sins : to the other, the source of comfort is his own assent to the general fact. To the true believer Christ crucified is a whole and only Saviour : the false believer makes use of Christ to render himself his own saviour. Both trust that their sins are pardoned, and both require to have a Saviour ; but to the one Christ is all in all and self is nothing ; to the other Christ holds the second place, self holds the first. So far the natural man may proceed towards the kingdom of heaven. He may reach the full assurance of the inlellec- iual faith which is so much extolled ; but it is a faith which worketh not by love. Such Christians may be orthodox, in- telligent, clear-headed, but, like the Laodiceans, they are cold-hearted and luke-warm believers. The intelligent being has clear knowledge ; but the heart of the moral being is not at one with God. The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, or the pride of life, divide the heart with the Redeemer. Note F. Ground of Moral Obligation. — Dr. Brown's view of the ground of moral obligation and the nature of vir- tue are far from being adequate ; but as he refers them to an original principle of our nature, and maintains the distinction of right and wrong, it were uncandid to charge ^94 APPENDIX. him with any design to subrert moral obligation. In his anxiety, however, to prove right and wrong mere rela- tions, and to free us from a few unnecessary terms, he has certainly carried his peculiar views to an unwarrantable length. The following passage contains a striking exhibition of his principle. ** That right and wrong signify nothing in objects themselves, is indeed most true. They are words ex- pressive only of relation, and relations are not existing parts of objects, or things to be added to objects or taken from them. There is no right nor wrong, virtue nor vice, merit nor demerit, existing independently of the agents who are virtuous or vicious ; and, in like manner, if there had been no moral emotions to arise on the contemplation of certain actions, there would have been no virtue, vice, merit, or de- merit, which express only relations of those emotions. But though there be no right nor wrong in an agent, the virtuous agent is not the same as the vicious agent — I do not say merely to those whom he benefits or injures, but to the most remote individual who contemplates that intentional produc- tion of benefit or injury. All are affected, on the contem- plation of these, with diflferent emotions ; and it is only by the difference of these moral emotions, that these actions are recognised as morally different. We feel that it will be impossible, while the constitution of nature remains as it is — and we may say even from the traces of the divine benevo- lence which the universe displays, impossible, while God himself, the framer of our constitution, and adapter of it to purposes of happiness, exists, — that the lover and inten- tional producer of misery, as misery, should ever be viewed with tender esteem ; or that he whose only ambition has been to diffuse happiness more widely than it could have flowed without his aid, should be regarded with the detesta- tion, on that account, which we now feel for the murderer of a single helpless individual, or for the oppressor of as many sufferers as a nation can contain in its whole wide orb of calamity ; and a distinction which is to exist while God himself exists, or at least which has been, and as we cannot APPENDIX. 295 but believe, will be, coeval with the race of man, cannot surely, be regarded as very precarious. It is not to moral distinctions only that this objection, if it have any force, would be applicable. Equality, proportion, it might be said, in like manner, signify nothing in the objects themselves to which they are applied, more than vice or virtue. They are as truly mere relations as the relations of morality. Though the three sides of a right angled triangle exist in the triangle itself, and constitute it what it is, rvhal we term the pro^ j)crties of such a triangle do not exist in it ; but are results of a peculiar capacity of a comparing mind. It is man, or some thinking being like man, whose comparisons give birth to the very feeling that is termed by us a discovery of the equality of the squares of one of the sides to the squares of the other two ; that is to say — for the discovery of this truth is nothing more — it is man who, contemplating such a triangle, is impressed with this relation, and who feels afterwards that it would be impossible for him to contemplate it with- out such an impression. If this feeling never had arisen, and never were to arise in any mind, though the squares themselves might still exist as separate figures, their equa- lity would be nothing — exactly as justice and injustice would be nothings jvhere fio relation of moral emotion had ever been felt; for equality, like justice, is a relation not a thing ; and if strictly analyzed, exists only, and can exist only, in the mind, which on the contemplation of certain objects, is im- pressed with certain feelings of relation ; in the same man- ner as right and wrong, virtue, vice, relate to emotions ex- cited in some mind that has contemplated certain actions — without whose contemplation of the actions, it will be rea- dily confessed, there could be no right nor wrong, virtue nor vice, as there could be no other relation without a mind that contemplates the objects said to be related. Certain geometrical figures cannot be contemplated by us without exciting certain feelings of the contemplating mind — which are notions of equality or proportion. Is it necessary that the equality should be itself' something existing in the sepa- 296 APPENDIX. rale Jigures themselves, wilhoiU reference to any mind thai contemplates them, hejore he put any confidence in geometry ? Or is it not enough that every mind which does contemplate them together, is impressed with that particular feeling, in consequence of which they are ranked as equal ?" * There are certainly some very extraordinary statements in this passage, and it may not be easy to give a satisfactory and consistent account of it. The cause of the strange mis- conception and more than scholastic mysticism which per- vades it, seems to arise from having confounded our percep- tion of properties and relations with the relations and proper- ties themselves. With regard to our own perceptions of things, they depend, of course, upon the mind itself; but to con- found the existence of those perceptions with the existence of the things perceived, is a relique of the school of Berkely and Hume, and a mistake unworthy of Dr. Brown. Let there exist a piece of matter of triangular shape, or let a globe, such as the planet on which we live, have rolled for millions of ages in the infinity of space, and Dr. Brown tells us that what we term properties of the triangle or globe, do not exist in it nor belong to it ; but are results of a peculiar capacity of the comparing mind. Men even in supporting absurdity, are not altogether idiots, and have usually some sort of sufficient reason for what they profess to believe ; and it might be a curious subject of speculation to ascertain by what specious sophism Dr. Brown was led to this conclusion. Properties are not distinct entities, but as properties belong- ing to substances, they as really subsist as the substances to which they belong. The same is true of relations which are still more shadowy. While two substances exist between which there subsists a certain relation, the relation as really subsists and is as permanent in its being as the substances themselves. How absurd to tell an astronomer that all the equalities and proportions of distance, magnitude, velocity, &c. which he discovers in the solar system, have derived all their existence from his own perception of them } If this bo • Lecture LXXXI I. APPENDIX. 297 not what Dr. Brown means to affirm ; but that his perception of these relations depends upon his comparing mind, this is a vulgar truth, and what is the meaning of all his pompous reasonings in obscuring and confounding a plain dictate of the common understanding ? In all the relations and proper- ties which are known to us, every body knows that the exist- ence of these relations and properties depends on things which exist independently of us, and whether there were any mind or being to perceive them or not; but that our perceptions depend, of course, upon the existence of our own mind, and that if there were no intelligent mind, though properties and relations between things might exist, they could not be the subjects of contemplation and knowledge. Why then talk of equality and proportion as nothing in objects to which they are said to belong? It is quite unmeaning. They are not separate entities, they are not essential attributes, and nobody thinks them so ; but they are real relations, which continue to subsist as relations, independently of all compari- son and perception on the part of man. Though the whole race of men were swept from the earth, or indeed all intelli- gent beings from the universe, the diameter of the earth would not cease to bear a certain proportion to its circumference. It is totally absurd then to talk of perceiving the relations and properties of things, if there be not relations and pro- perties actually subsisting to be perceived. With regard to virtue and vice, if it is meant by Dr. Brown that there could be neither the one nor the other, were there no moral agents, that is, beings susceptible of certain feelings and capable of certain perceptions ; he is stating one of the most obvious and common truths, which the plainest peasant most fully understands. Virtue and vice are properties of moral agents, without whom they plainly cannot exist. If, however, it is meant to be affirmed that after moral agents really exist, there is no real difference in the desires and volitions, characterized by the opposite terms virtuous and vicious ; his statement is utterly false, and is refuted by the consciousness of every man whose understanding has not been ^98 APPENDIX. degraded by vice or blunted by the still more deadly iii- tiuence of infidelity. There is a real difference in the moral quality of the desires and volitions of a moral agent, which is as permanent as his own existence. It depends not upon any perception of it, as Dr. Brown most falsely supposes, but is a distinction as real and permanent, and exists as truly, whether it is perceived or not, as the difference between the bulk of one planet and that of another. It is a distinction which not only has subsisted during the existence of the hu- man race, and will subsist during the coming eternity of their existence, but since man, as an intelligent and moral being, resembles his Creator, has subsisted in the mind of the Deity during the whole eternity of the past. Long before a planet rolled among the solar rays, or a created being rejoiced in the goodness and equity of his glorious Creator, the great dis- tinction of just and holy, as opposed to unjust and sinful, were essential attributes of the eternal Father of spirits. Why then talk so strangely and mystically of right and wrong, virtue and vice, as depending for their existence, on some vague, blind, unmeaning emotion, which might be removed, and with it the bug-bear distinction of right and wrong, with- out rendering man a being materially different from what he is ? If Dr. Brown's principle be true, and if virtue and vice depend upon the presence of an emotion, as he imagines ; let a man, by the habitual indulgence of crime, have this emotion re- moved in consequence of a seared conscience ; and the de- graded wretch is at once transformed into the man of virtue and worth. This is the true tendency of Dr. Brown's prin- ciple. On the perception of certain actions, an unmeaning emotion arises, not in consequence of any real difference of the actions, or any quality in the volitions of the agent ; for the demerit of the volitions depend upon the emotion, and if this emotion did not arise, these same volitions would have been virtuous and praise- worthy. This is in truth to sub- vert the foundation of moral obligation ; for it is a matter of fact that the feelings of conscience, as mere emotions, may be destroyed by a course of vice ; and hence on Dr. Brown's APPENDIX, 299 principle, all distinction of right and wrong is removed, and the feelings which were formerly vicious thus assume the op- posite quality. Happily such philosophy is as repugnant to the common understanding of mankind, as it is hateful to their better feelings. It is true, that by habitual flagitious- ness the degraded being ceases to feel, in the strict sense of the word, the merit or demerit of his actions; but mankind do not conceive that he is, on that account, acquitted from blame, nor does he himself cease to know that he is guilty. His seared conscience experiences no emotion at the perpetra- tion of the most horrid crimes ; but he still retains the know- ledge of the moral difference of the volitions and actions of a moral agent. The virtue and vice of the agent remains ; for they are the real qualities of his desires and volitions, and he has lost only the susceptibility of the moral emotions, not the power of perceiving the qualities of volitions as right or as wrong. Dr. Brown's attempt to refute the opinion of Drs. Reid, Price, and others on this subject, is feeble and unsatisfactory. *' The reference which Dr. Price would make of our moral sen- timents to reason," says he, " would leave the difficulty and the doubt exactly where they were before ; since reason is but a principle of our mental frame, like the principle which is the source of moral emotion, and has no peculiar claim to remain unaltered in the supposed general alteration of our mental constitution." This is a mistake. When the under- standing is destroyed or wanting, as in the case of idiocy, there is no moral obligation ; and hence the individual is free from guilt, though his moral feelings still retain their own distinctive nature. But besides, taking the understand- ing as capable of moral perception, and hence as the source of moral obligation, we have an agent capable of perceiving the real differences in his desires and affections, and consequently of knowingly and wisely regulating his volitions. This perception of right and wrong remains after the emotion may have been destroyed, and upholds the sacred distinction of vice and virtue. Admitting this SOO APPENDIX. intellectual perception, combined with its appropriate feel- ing, all is plain and intelligible, and consistent with the well known phenomena. The perception of right and wrong is then put upon the same footing as the other perceptions of the understanding ; and notwithstanding all the fluctuation of feeling and emotion, the foundation of moral obligation re- mains untouched, and can be removed only by the destruc- tion of the understanding, which accordingly is allowed, both by the common sense of men and the authority of Scriptures, completely to remove it. Note G. Predestination.-—*' God from all eternity," says the Westminster Confession, " did, by the most wise and ho- ly counsel of his own will, freely and unchangeably ordain whatsoever comes to pass ; yet so, as thereby neither is God the author of sin, nor is violence offered to the will of the area' tures, nor is the liberty or contingeficy of second causes taken away but rather established."* This is the true and an admirably correct account of two matters of facts. Man is free is the one ; for it is every where supposed in Scripture, and is proved by experience : God, in a way consistent with this fact, has foreordained all things is the other, which is also established by the testi- mony of the Scriptures of truth. These are the facts; ex- plain them as we may. The truly enlightened compilers of our Confession found no hesitation to state them ; for they well knew that all things were ordained by the most ivise and holy counsel of God, and must needs therefore all be right. Where is the well-informed Christian who can in- dulge the slightest suspicion that his Heavenly Father has done wrong, or feel the most transient wish that his arrange- ments were altered } If things are sometimes obscure and perplexing, it is his ignorance, he knows, which is the cause, * Chap. III. Contingency plainly is to be taken as synonymous with liberty. APPENDIX. ' 301 not any tiling wrong on the part of God ; and if lie saw the whole, he would be the first to join with the enlightened spirits above ; just and true are all thy ways, thou king of saints! That his anticipation, though it be the conclusion of love, is not too partial, will appear by the slightest consider- ation of the doctrine of predestination. From the cursory view which has been taken of free will, it has appeared that so far from the most absolute fore-know- ledge being in the least incon>>istent with the most perfect freedom, there can be no freedom without it. Freedom is not a state of non-entity, but the exercise of power; and power implies the certainty that the agent who enjoys it will infal- libly carry his purposes and views into effect. If the idea of •contingency is once admitted, the immediate conclusion is, that the agent has not power to execute his will. So com- pletely, as has been hinted, is this the judgment of the un- sophisticated understanding of mankind, that every man knows well that, when he contemplates a design or forms a purpose, the more absolutely certain and infallible is the re- sult, the greater, he feels, is the magnitude of his power and the extent of his freedom. And in like manner, when one human being considers the designs and purposes of another, the more certainty he discovers of their execution, and the more remote the period of time to which they are prospec- tive, the higher is his admiration of the wisdom and power of the agent who can so extensively control and so infallibly de- termine the current of future events. To such an extent then can one man foresee the future certainty of the actions of another, without impairing his liberty ; and why should we deny the same power, in an infinitely higher degree, to Him whose understanding is infinite ? Let us next see the consist- ency of freedom with foreordination. Were we to enter formally and at large into this subject, it would facilitate the inquiry to consider only the natural actions of men as coming under the decree of predestination ; and leave out those which are the result of extraordinary in- terpositions, on the part of God, as of the gift of the Holy 2 302 APPENDIX. Spirit for the work of regeneration. And since such inter- positions are acts of justice in punishing the guilty, or of mercy and love in saving the undone, there is cause surely, on account of them, only for gratitude, none for complaint. Still farther to simplify the inquiry, it might be desirable al- so to consider first the virtuous actions of men, and then those which are vicious. With regard then to virtuous actions, as God has been the author of the human constitution, consisting of the intelli- gent mind and the moral susceptibilities, and has placed man in his present circumstances, it is plain that he has directly ordained all the virtuous actions of mankind. Knowing that a moral being uniformly acts on the principles of his consti- tution, by placing him in circumstances where he has a cer- tain choice of right and wrong, proper and improper conduct, one man is able to render absolutely certain any series of the actions of another. The more he knows the disposition of the individual, to the greater extent is he able, in this way, to fix the certainty of his actions. Now, it is plain, that, had he also bestowed the mind which perceives the relations of the circumstances, and the susceptibilities which enable the man to act upon his perceptions, he would have been the real author of all the consequent actions. So it is then with the Creator. His creatures act because they will ; they will be- cause they judge it right ; and they judge things right, be- cause God has endowed them with a nature similar to his own. Thus, so long as they act upon the principles of the high being which God has given him, to Him they must ren- der all the praise for the intelligent mind and generous soul, which at one time swells with gratitude at the recollection of his bounty ; at another, melts with compassion for the suf- ferings of the oppressed, and burns with indignation at the injustice of his oppressor. With regard to vicious actions, the possession of the power of doing right necessarily implies, in the event of corruption, the ability of acting wrong. This follows necessarily from the fact that a being exists. The sun which now enlightens APPENDIX. 303 and cheers the earth, if placed in an improper situation, would quickly consume it ; and in like manner, the moral agent \\'ho will not act right, must necessarily do wrong. The power which directed one way does right, when turned in an opposite direction, produces opposite effects. By endowing man with a moral nature.^ therefore, God has indirectly or- dained all the evil which has been perpetrated ; but then this indirect ordination is of a totally different character from the direct ordination just mentioned. In the latter, man as yet did not exist, and the act of giving him existence, and placing him in the circumstances in which he was required to act, were wholly the effects of divine power; but after man had obtained his constitution, he was no longer the sub- ject of physical power, but became a responsible agent acting for himself. The conduct of God must then be judged on the moral principle of justice ; and the actions of man must be considered his own, for which he is reponsible. If helms sinned, he and his seducer are the authors of the evil, and in rendering the works of God the means of evil, they are per- verting their original design, and committing an injury against the Creator. They were able to do their duty, they well knew it, and in sinning they acted in opposition to the will of God. There was no ordination of evil on his part, and it were unne- cessary ; for the constitution which He had created good, when corrupted, necessarily proved the cause of evil. This evil in- deed God foresaw, and determined to take subsequent mea- sures to overrule the wickedness of his creatures, in order to magnify his own glory, in the promotion of the welfare of his unfallen creation ; but all this, it has appeared, so far as our knowledge and means of information extends, is perfectly consistent both with the attributes of God, and the freedom and responsibility of man. The whole doctrine of predestination, therefore, as it re- gards the natural actions of man, is reduced to the simple fact, that God created man a moral agent. By creating him a perfect moral agent. He, with the utmost certainty, deter- mined all the good which man has performed ; and in so do- 304 APPENDIX. ing, He could not but determine all the evil which, in the event of a fall, might ensue. There is no real difficulty in the subject of predestination, if we adhere to plain and known facts. If we know the nature of agency, we at once discover that the whole truth was involved in the fact, " man became a living soul." While such a being exists in a state of per- fection, in given circumstances, his actions are all determin- ed ; if he become corrupted, their certainty remains the same. The confusion has arisen from ignorance of the nature of agency, and consequently by the introduction of a contin- gency which virtually denies the existence of man ; for if a moral agent has poiver, there is no real contingency. If you once admit that a being possesses a moral constitution, and if by predestination is meant the part which God acts in bringing about the actions of men, the divine act of creation and the divine act of predestination mean precisely the same thing. If we speak with any meaning when we affirm that God foreordained the actions of men, we just state the vulgar truth, " God created man." Let a being be possessed of a moral nature and placed in certain circumstances, and his con- duct is determined ; for, in every case, he has the alternative of doing only right or wrong, and so long as he acts upon the principles of his constitution, he will infallibly choose the right. Admit the fact that man exists, and you cannot deny the doctrine of predestination as stated in our Confession. The idea that predestination implies any interference, — we omit extraordinary interpositions of judgment and mercy, which are all righteous and just — or any exertion of power, on the part of God, to bring about the action of his creatures, is a misconception arising from the ignorance of the nature of the human constitution. It is an awkward expedient to account for facts whose real cause is unknown — an attempt to hold together an incoherent system of theology, like the in- vention of a clumsy mechanic to preserve the unity of the planets of the solar system, which, by the appointment of the Creator, are already indissolubly connected by the principle of gravitation. When God created man with a moral con- APPENDIX. 305 stitution, He secured the certainty of his future actions, and the supposition of any further exertion of power is complete- ly unmeaning, inasmuch as it assigns, for the same effect, two causes, either of which is adequate to its production. It imagines God to do a second time that which, by his act of creation. He had already done. It is here the dispute between the Calvinist and Arminian seems to hinge. If by predestination is meant the fact, that God, by creating man with certain perceptions and feelings, and by placing him in certain circumstances, foreordained directly or indirectly all his actions, no rational man can deny it j but if it is implied in this doctrine that God now exerts physical power to control the agency and bring to pass the actions of man, such a supposition has no sanction from the doctrines of Scripture, as stated in the Westminster Confes- sion. This were to make God the author of sin, to offer violence to the will of man, and to destroy his liberty ; and besides, it were to set one decree of God against another, and completely to derange the moral government which his wis- dom has established. With regard to the actions of men, the physical act of predestination was the act of creation, and all that has place now is the foreknowledge of what was then de- termined, as the ground of future physical acts in punishing and rewarding men according to their works. The whole of predestination now proceeds upon foreknowledge, and nothing more is necessary. Hence the apostle expressly lays down the latter as the ground of the former, in speaking of God's dealings with men subsequent to creation. " Whom he did foreknow He also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son."* Another apostle states the same princi- ple, styling believers '' elect according to the foreknowledge of God ;"t and the whole Scriptures speak the same language. So consistent then are the doctrines of the Westminster Confession with the freedom and the responsibility of man. So far from the foreordination which it teaches being hostile * Rom. viii.29. f 1 Pet. 1, 2. 306 APPENDIX. to liberty, it truly, as is justly stated, and most directly establishes it. The only possible freedom to a real agent is the enjoyment of power ; and power implies the certainty of the resulting actions. Deny predestination, and you at the same time deny the existence of man, as the defenders of contingency virtually do. But let man really exist and pos- sess intellectual and moral power, and by this power his actions, in given circumstances, are determined. The doc- trine of the Divine decrees, which learned ignorance has sO grievously perverted to cast stumbling-blocks before the people of God, is, with reference to the actions of men, no- thing but the great truth, that God decreed to create man, and ordained that he should be powerful and free. This is the whole truth. God decreed to give man a being, and by the same decree his will is preserved from violence, and his liberty secured. The whole of predestination which now concerns man is simply this ; let man act as he chooses, and choose as he judges right. This is the most absolute free- dom ; and in enjoying it to the full, he is just bringing to pass what the wise and holy counsel of God had from eter- nity ordained. Such then is the whole of predestination which respects the natural actions of men. It is just what Scripture sup- poses, and reason would infer it to be, nothing but the fact, that man has been created a moral being, the subject of a moral government, possessed of power to regulate his con- duct, and who is therefore left at perfect liberty to act for himself, and stand or fall on his own responsibility ; or in the words of the Confession, '' Man had freedom and power to will and to do that which is good and well pleasing to God ; but was neither forced, nor by any absolute necessity of nature determined to ^ood or evil."* To such a being a fall was his own act, for which he must justly suffer the con- sequences ; and now that he has fallen, he " hath wholly lost all ability of will to any spiritual good accompajiying salva- * Chap. ix. APPENDIX. 307 tion; so as a natural man, being altogether averse to that good, and dead in sin, is net able, by his own strength, to convert himself, or to prepare himself thereunto." Hence the doctrine of predestination with respect to the actions of men, in consequence of the communication of divine power, is totally different from that which we have just examined, as it always implies the immediate agency of the Divine Spirit. But on this part of the subject it is here unnecessary to enter. The whole of it is contained in these words of the apostle ; '* It is God who worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure." And if predestination with reference to men's natural actions, is understood as being, what it really is, simply the fact of creation, the second creation will be found to arise out of the ruins of the first, with a regularity, a beauty, and a glory, which the first, very good though it was, could never have exhibited. Note H. Means op Ghace. — Dr. Whitby quotes from Le Blanc some doctrines which were held both by the Calvinistic and Lu- theran reformers, which he treats with great contempt as ut- terly absurd and repugnant to reason and Scripture : such as, " There be some moral precepts which man in this lapsed state cannot do at all ; some actions which are materially good are yet formally sins ; man, in the state of lapsed na- ture, is not free to choose what is morally good," &c. These doctrines have been sometimes misexplained and abused, but every one acquainted with the Bible or with human nature, clearly perceives that they contain most important truth, and involve none of the contradictions which Dr. Whitby fancies he discovers. They are indeed all truths which, if a man do not clearly apprehend and thoroughly believe, he will never appreciate the nature of the gospel, or to any great extent, if at all, experience its saving effects. Let us briefly see the consistency and beneficial tendency of the most obnoxious of tlem. 308 APPENDIX. It is, in the first place, most decidedly held, not only that man is utterly unable to perform many duties, which the law of God commands, but that all the means of grace, how- ever honestly employed, are in themselves altogether ineffi- cient to accomplish the desired end. But surely nobody who is not in jest, or totally ignorant of the subject, can ridicule this idea. Moses smiting the rock was not the cause of the flow- ing of the waters ; the view of the brazen serpent had no physical power to heal the wounded Israelites ; the blast of the rams' horns had no mechanical force sufficient to over- turn the walls of Jericho ; the prayer of an apostle possessed no charm in raising the dead. The very use of such means as prayer necessarily implies, that it and all the other means, are in themselves ineffectual. It has indeed, like all other means, a certain adaptation to the end, and exerts a moral influence upon the minds of those who employ it ; but if the man who seeks, by prayer, the gift of the Spirit of God, believe that the moral influence of prayer will secure the object of his desire, he has yet to learn the nature and end of prayer ; and till he obtain this information, vain will be all his petitions, and his heart will remain unchanged. The cause of the efficiency of prayer, and of all the other means of grace, is the almighty power and unchangeable faithful- ness of God. It is here that he who rationally employs them rests all his hopes ; and the more he is sensible of their inherent inefficiency, the more honestly he will employ them, and the more he is certain that he does not beat the air, but that they shall prove mighty through God, to secure to him the object he has in view. It is true also, that those who hold this doctrine believe ; that all works which proceed not from a heart, purified by faith and regenerated by the power of the Holy Ghost, can- not please God, or entitle a man to the grace which he needs, but are rather to be considered as possessing the nature of sin. This doctrine, besides being that of the sacred Scrip- tures, is founded directly upon the constitution of a moral being, and is every day illustrated and approved in the con- duct of men. One virtuous act of a moral being cannot jus- APPENDIX. 309 tify^ any criminal part of his conduct, or free him from the guilt of any sin. The subject who rebels against his right- ful sovereign, and resists the righteous laws of his country, is not acquitted of high treason, because he is faithful to his associates, affectionate to his friends, condescending and be- neficent to his dependents. So far he acts rightly, and is obeying the laws of God and of man ; but so long as he re- mains in arms against his country, he is still committing the crime of treason, even while he is discharging many duties and yielding partial obedience to the laws. So it is with fallen man in relation to God. He owes a number of du- ties to himself and to mankind as well as to his Great )r, and possesses a variety of active principles, which enable him to discharge them. Acting on some of those principles, he may often be conscious of motives which the law of God approves, and perform actions which it enjoins ; and this part of his con- duct therefore, abstractly considered, is right, and sanctioned, both in matter and motive, by the divine law, and is no doubt pleasing to God as a holy moral being. But while he is thus to a certain extent acting right, he is neglecting many of the most important duties which God commands, and like the rebel just supposed, he still remains an enemy to God ; and his conduct therefore, as a whole, must be considered sinful, and himself unacceptable to the pure eye of Him who trieth the heart and who cannot look upon iniquity. The princi- ple which the apostle lays down, if not true, as is sometimes erroneously supposed, with respect to the commandments of the law literally, is strictly true with regard to the moral be- ing's relation to that law : He who is guilty in one point is guilty in all. Though he fulfil some parts of the law, if he violate it in others, his whole conduct, as that of a moral agent, is sinful, and his partial obedience can never atone for his crimes, or render him and his conduct pleasing to God. Till rendered acceptable by faith in the Beloved, he remains, notwithstanding all his virtue, real virtue, it may be, his punctual discharge of many duties, and his indulgence of 310 APPENDIX. many generous and virtuous feeling, an enemy to his Crea- tor and obnoxious to the punishment denounced by his law. How then. Dr. Whitby would demand, can a man rightly employ the means of grace, if all his conduct is sinful .'* In his very prayers, he must commit sin, according to this view of |;he matter. In the use of all means, he must merit only a curse and not a blessing. So he does we reply. The conduct pf a fallen creature is at all times sinful, and in itself offensive to God. The only cause of the acceptance of fallen man is the merit of the divine atonement. Were not God now in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not imputing their trespasses to them, the prayers and works even of the most eminent saint would bring upon him swift destruction. God ;s not imputing their si?is unto the world, but, for Christ's sake, waiting to be gracious, and hence He is able to hear the prayer of fallen men. For his^ own name's sake, and on the ground of the merit of the Redeemer, altogether independ- ently of human worth. He suits the means of grace to the present condition of mankind, and pledges himself to bestow the blessing on those who euiploy them. Without any holi- ness of heart, and without any meritorious motives, men are ^nvited to act upon such feelings as they naturally possess, and come without money and without price to obtain, from the fulness of Christy pardon of sin and sanctification of soul. The grace which they need is bestowed, not as a reward of their own merit, but as a gift purchased for them by the blood qf the Redeemer. Hence then, while we hold decidedly that " man by his fall into a state of sin, hath wholly lost all ability of will to any spiritual good accompanying salvation," * either by any inherent efficacy in the means themselves, or any merit he has in using them ; it must be admitted, that the means are adapted to his present moral condition, and that he is perfectly able to employ them. The man who has heard the gospel, and refuses to make himself farther acquainted v/ith * Confess. Chap. IX. APPENDIX. its doctrines, and to seek, by prayer, the power which is truly and faithfully offered him, has no promise of any blessing from God ; but if he do make use of the appointed means, with those motives, and with that sincerity of which the natural and unregenerate man is capable, he shall as- suredly obtain the grace which he seeks, and which the ve- racity of God, who cannot lie, has engaged to bestow. His salvation is thus put into his own hands as truly as the multi- tude of the transactions of ordinary life ; and if he perish, his blood is upon his own head. The great principle on which the application of redemption is conducted, is never forgot- ten : " According to thy faith be it done unto thee." As Christians are rewarded, as it is well said, not for their works, as the ground of merit, but according to their works as the measure : so the unregenerate man is redeemed, not by his works as the cause of his acceptance, but by his works as the means. The predestination and election of the en- lightened Calrinist, is not the creation of a deranged imagi- nation, as has been falsely alleged, but is a matter of fact which does no violence to the will of the creature, nor de- stroys the liberty of secondary causes, but rather, nay, most undoubtedly and inevitably, establishes them. As God is acknowledged to work by secondary causes in the providen- tial government of the world, so He does in the economy of grace. It is by the agency of his creatures, free and unfet- tered by any act of his, that He carries into effect the decree of election. They have indeed been enslaved by their own crimes, and are utterly unable to save or rescue themselves ; but God, infinite in mercy and wisdom, has introduced a new dispensation suited to their present condition, and has ap- pointed means of grace which they are perfectly able to em- ploy ; and as they employ them, or employ them not, shall they be saved or shall they be condemned. THE END. EDINBURGH, PRINTED BY A. BALFOUR AND CO. HIGH STRBfET, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY, BERKELEY THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE •STAMPED BELOW Books not returned on time are subject to a fine of 50c per volume after the third day overdue, increasing to $1.00 per volume after the sixth day. Books not in demand may be renewed if application is made before expiration of loan period. h^s^' -vc,' OCr 14 I93T ocTSowr APR -6 19b CO OCT i»0 1 2(Wfln'53Rc APRi 7 mi iS^pr^lRfl lU l?>ml2,'24 YC 304C8 / dTiui C7