A Review of Edwards's "Inquiry into the Freedom of the Will"
Part 7
XIV. Hence we must conclude, also, that there cannot really be any calamity. The calamities which we may at any time experience, we ought to endure and rejoice in, as flowing from the same perfect and necessary source. But as calamity does nevertheless necessarily produce suffering and uneasiness, and the desire of relief, we may be permitted to hope that perfect relief and entire blessedness will finally ensue, and that the final blessedness will be enhanced just in proportion to the present suffering.
The necessitarian may be an optimist of a high order. It he commits what is called crime, and remorse succeeds, and punishment is inflicted under law, the crime is good, the remorse is good, the punishment is good, all necessary and good, and working out, as he hopes, a result of pure happiness. Nothing can be bad in itself: it may be disagreeable; but even this will probably give way to the agreeable. And so also with all afflictions: they must be good in themselves, although disagreeable, --and will probably lead the way to the agreeable, just as hunger and thirst, which are disagreeable, lead the way to the enjoyments of eating and drinking. All is of necessity, and of a necessary and perfect wisdom.
XV. But as all is of necessity, and of a necessary and perfect wisdom, there really can no more be folly in conduct, or error in reasoning and belief, than there can be crime and calamity, considered as evils in themselves. Every act that we call folly is a necessary act, in its time, place, and relations generally, and is a necessary consequence of the infinite wisdom; but a necessary consequence of infinite wisdom cannot be opposed to infinite wisdom; so that what we call folly, when philosophically considered, ceases to be folly.
In any act of pure reasoning, the relations seem necessary, and the assent of the mind is necessary. This is granted by all parties. But it must be admitted, that when men are said to reason falsely, and to yield their assent to false conclusions, the relations seem necessary to them; and, according to this system, they necessarily so seem, and cannot seem otherwise: and the assent of the mind is also necessary.
The reasoning, to others, would be false reasoning, because it so necessarily seems to them; but to the individual to whom it seems different, it must really be different, and be good and valid reasoning.
Again: as all these different reasonings and beliefs proceed necessarily from the same source, they must all be really true where they seem true, and all really false where they seem false. It would follow, from this, that no one can really be in a false position except the hypocrite and sophist, pretending to believe and to be what he does not believe and what he is not, and purposely reasoning falsely, and stating his false conclusions as if they were truths. I say this would follow, were we not compelled by this system to allow that even the hypocrite and sophist cannot hold a false position, inasmuch as his position is a necessary one, predetermined in its necessary connexion with the first necessary wisdom.
XVI. Another consequence of this system is fatalism,--or, perhaps, more properly speaking, the system is itself a system of fatalism.
This, indeed, has already been made to appear substantially. The word, however, has not yet been used. I here, then, charge directly this consequence or feature upon the system.
Fatalism is the absolute negation of liberty. This system is fatalism, because it is the absolute negation of liberty.
No liberty is contended for, in this system, in relation to man, but physical liberty: viz. that when he wills, the effect will follow,--that when he wills to walk, he walks, &c. "Liberty, as I have explained it, is the power, opportunity, or advantage, that any one has to do as he pleases, or conducting himself in any respect according to his pleasure, without considering how his pleasure comes to be as it is." (p. 291.)
In the first place, this is no higher liberty than what brutes possess. They have power, opportunity, or advantage, to do as they please. Effects follow their volitions by as certain a law as effects follow the volitions of men.
In the second place, this is no higher liberty than slaves possess. Slaves uniformly do as they please. If the motive be the lash, or the fear of the lash, still, in their case as well as in that of brutes under similar circumstances, the volition which takes place is the most pleasing at the moment. The slave and the animal do what is most pleasing to them, or do according to their pleasure, When the one drags the plough and the other holds it. Nay, it is impossible for any animal, rational or irrational, to act without doing what is most pleasing to him or it. Volition is always as the greatest apparent good, or as the sense of the most pleasant or agreeable.
If any should reply that slaves and animals are _liable_ to be fettered, and this distinguishes them from the free, I rejoin that every being is liable to various restraints; none of us can do many things which in themselves appear desirable, and would be objects of volition if there were known to be an established connexion between them and our wills. We are limited in our actions by the powers of nature around us; we cannot overturn mountains, or command the winds. We are limited in the nature of our physical being. We are limited by our want of wealth, knowledge, and influence. In all these respects, we may, with as much propriety as the slave, be regarded as deprived of liberty. It does not avail to say that, as we never really will what we know to be impossible or impracticable, so in relation to such objects, neither liberty or a want of liberty is to be affirmed; for the same will apply to the fettered slave; he does not will to walk or run when he knows it to be impossible. But in relation to him as well as to every other being, according to this system it holds true, that whether he act or forbear to act, his volitions are as the most agreeable.
All creatures, therefore, acting by volition, are to be accounted free, and one really as free as another.
In the third place, the liberty here affirmed belongs equally to every instance of stated antecedence and sequence.
The liberty which is taken to reside in the connexion between volition and effects, is a liberty lying in a connexion of stated antecedence and sequence, and is perfect according as this connexion is necessary and unimpeded. The highest form of liberty, therefore, is to be found in the most absolute form of necessity. Liberty thus becomes identified also with power: where there is power, there is liberty; and where power is the greatest, that is, where it overcomes the most obstacles and moves on irresistibly to its effects, there is the greatest degree of liberty. God is the most free of all beings, because nothing can impede his will. His volitions are always the antecedents of effects.
But obviously we do not alter the relation, when we change the terms. If liberty lie in the stated antecedence of volition to effects, and if liberty is measured by the necessity of the relation, then when the antecedent is changed, the relation remaining the same, liberty must still be present. For example: when a volition to move the arm is followed by a motion of the arm, there is liberty; now let galvanism be substituted for the volition, and the effect as certainly takes place; and as freedom is doing as we please, or will, "without considering how this pleasure (or will) comes to be as it is;" that is, without taking its motive into the account. So likewise, freedom may be affirmed to be doing according to the galvanic impulse, "without considering how" that impulse "comes to be as it is."
If we take any other instance of stated antecedence and sequence, the reasoning is the same. For example, a water wheel in relation to the mill-stone: when the wheel turns, the mill-stone moves. In this case freedom may be defined: the mill-stone moving according to the turn of the wheel, "without considering how" that turn of the wheel "comes to be as it is." In the case of human freedom, freedom is defined, doing according to our volitions, without considering how the volition comes to be as it is; doing "according to choice, without taking into the meaning of the word anything of the cause of that choice." (p. 39.)
If it be said that in the case of volition, we have the man of whom to affirm freedom; but in the case of the wheel and mill-stone, we have nothing of which liberty can properly be affirmed. I reply, that liberty must be affirmed, and is properly affirmed, of that to which it really belongs; and hence as volition is supposed to belong to the spiritual essence, man; and this spiritual essence is pronounced free, because volition appears in it, and is attended by consequences:--so, likewise, the material essence of the wheel may be pronounced free, because motion belongs to it, and is followed by consequences. As every being that has volition is free, so likewise every thing that hath motion is free:--in every instance of cause and effect, we meet with liberty.
But volition cannot be the characteristic of liberty, if volition itself be governed by necessity: and yet this system which affirms liberty, wherever there is unimpeded volition, makes volition a necessary determination. In the fact of unimpeded volition, it gives liberty to all creatures that have volition; and then again, in the fact of the necessary determination of volition it destroys the possibility of liberty. But even where it affirms liberty to exist, there is no new feature to characterize it as liberty. The connexion between volition and its stated consequences, is a connexion as necessary and absolute as the connexion between the motive and the volition, and between any antecedent and sequent whatever. That my arm should move when I make a volition to this effect, is just as necessary and just as incomprehensible too, as that water should freeze at a given temperature: when the volition is impeded, we have only another instance of necessity,--a lesser force overcome by a greater.
The liberty therefore which this system affirms in the fact of volition and its unimpeded connexion with its consequents, is an assumption--a mere name. It is a part of the universal necessity arbitrarily distinguished and named, its liberty does not reside in human volition, so neither can it reside in the divine volition. The necessary dependence of volition upon motive, and the necessary sequence of effects upon volition, can no more be separated from the divine mind than from ours. It is a doctrine which, if true, is implied in the universal conception of mind. It belongs to mind generically considered. The creation of volition by volition is absurd in itself--it cannot but be an absurdity. The determination of will by the strongest motive, if a truth is a truth universally; on this system, it contains the whole cause and possibility of volition. The whole liberty of God, it is affirmed, is contained in this, to do as pleases him, or, in other words, that what he wills is accomplished, and necessarily accomplished: what pleases him is also fixed in the necessity of his own nature. His liberty, therefore, by its own definition, differs nothing from necessity.
If the movements of mind are necessary, no argument is required to prove that all being and events are necessary. We are thus bound up in a universal necessity. Whatever is, is, and cannot be otherwise, and could not have been otherwise. As therefore there is no liberty, we are reduced to the only remaining alternative of fatalism.
Edwards does not indeed attempt to rebut wholly the charge of fatalism. (part iv. Sec. vi.) In relation to the Stoics, he remarks:--"It seems they differed among themselves; and probably the doctrine of _fate_ as maintained by most of them, was, in some respects, erroneous. But whatever their doctrines was, if any of them held such a fate, as is repugnant to any _liberty, consisting in our doing as we please,_ I utterly deny such a fate." He objects to fatalism only when it should deny our actions to be connected with our pleasure, or our sense of the most agreeable, that is our volition. But this connexion we have fully proved to be as necessary as the connexion between the volition and its motive. This reservation therefore does not save him from fatalism.
In the following section, (sec. vii.) he represents the liberty and sovereignty of God as consisting in an ability "to do whatever pleases him." His idea of the divine liberty, therefore, is the same as that attributed to man. That the divine volitions are necessarily determined, he repeatedly affirms, and indeed represents as the great excellence of the divine nature, because this necessity of determination is laid in the infinite wisdom and perfection of his nature.
If necessity govern all being and events, it is cheering to know that it is necessity under the forms of infinite wisdom and benevolence. But still it remains true that necessity governs. If "it is no disadvantage or dishonour to a being, _necessarily_ to act in the most excellent and happy manner from the necessary perfection of his own nature," still let us remember that under this representation _he does act necessarily_. Fate must have some quality or form; it must be what we call good or evil: but in determining its quality, we do not destroy its nature. Now if we call this fate a nature of goodness and wisdom, eternal and infinite, we present it under forms beautiful, benign, and glorious, but it is nevertheless fate,--and as such it governs the divine volitions; and through the divine volitions, all the consequents and effects of these volitions;--the universe of being and things is determined by fate;--and all volitions of angels or men are determined by fate--by this fate so beautiful, benign, and glorious. Now if all things thus _proceeding_ from fate were beautiful, benign, and glorious, the theory might not alarm us. But that deformity, crime, and calamity should have place as developements of this fate, excites uneasiness. The abettors of this system, however, may perhaps comfort themselves with the persuasion that deformity, crime, and calamity, are names not of realities, but of the limited conceptions of mankind. We have indeed an instance in point in Charles Bonnet, whom Dugald Stewart mentions as "a very learned and pious disciple of Leibnitz." Says Bonnet--"Thus the same chain embraces the physical and moral world, binds the past to the present, the present to the future, the future to eternity. That wisdom which has ordained the existence of this chain, has doubtless willed that of every link of which it is composed. A Caligula is one of these links; and this link is of iron. A Marcus Aurelius is another link; and this link is of gold. _Both_ are necessary parts of one whole, which could not but exist. Shall God then be angry at the sight of the iron link? What absurdity! God esteems this link at its proper value. He sees it in its cause, and he approves this cause, for it is good. God beholds moral monsters as he beholds physical monsters. Happy is the link of gold! Still more happy if he know that he is _only fortunate_. He has attained the highest degree of moral perfection, and is nevertheless without pride, knowing that what he is, is the necessary result, of the place which he must occupy in the chain. The gospel is the allegorical exposition of this system; the simile of the potter is its summary." He might have added, "Happy is the link of iron, if he know that he is not guilty, but at worst _only unfortunate;_ and really not unfortunate, because holding a necessary place in the chain which both as a whole and in its parts, is the result of infinite wisdom."
If anything more is required in order to establish this consequence of the system we are examining, I would call attention to the inquiry, whether after a contingent self-determining will there remains any theory of action except fatalism? A contingent self-determining will is a will which is the cause of its own volitions or choices--a self-conscious power, self-moved and directed, and at the moment of its choice, or movement towards a particular object, conscious of ability of choosing, or moving towards, an opposite object. Now what conception have we to oppose to this but that of a will not determining itself,--not the cause of its own volitions,--a power not self-moved and directed,--and not conscious of ability at the moment of a particular choice, to make a contrary choice? And this last conception is a will whose volitions are determined by some power antecedent to itself, not contingently, but necessarily. As the will is the only power for which contingent self-determination is claimed, if it be proved to be no such power, then no such power exists. The whole theory of action and causality will then be expressed as follows:
1. Absolute and necessary connexion of motives and volitions. 2. Absolute and necessary connexion of volitions and effects. 3. Absolute and necessary connexion of all sequents and antecedents in nature. 4. Absolute and necessary connexion of all things existent with a first and necessary principle or cause. 5. The necessary determination of this principle or cause.
Denying a contingent self-determining will, this theory is all that remains. If liberty be affirmed to reside in the 2d particular of this theory, it becomes a mere arbitrary designation, because the _nature_ of the relation is granted to be the same; it is not _contingent_, but necessary. Nor can liberty be affirmed to reside in the 5th; because in the first place, the supposed demonstration of the absurdity of a contingent self-determining will, by infinite series of volitions, must apply to this great first principle considered as God. And in the second place, the doctrine of the necessary determination of motive must apply here likewise, since God as will and intelligence requires motives no less than we do. Such determination is represented as arising from the very nature of mind or spirit. Now this theory advanced in opposition to a self-determining will, is plainly the negation of liberty as opposed to necessity. And this is all that can be meant by fatalism. Liberty thus becomes a self-contradictory conception, and fatalism alone is truth and reality.
XVII. It appears to me also, that pantheism is a fair deduction from this system.
According to this system, God is the sole and universal doer--the only efficient cause. 1. His volition is the creative act, by which all beings and things exist. Thus far it is generally conceded that God is all in all. "By him we live, and move, and have our being." 2. The active powers of the whole system of nature he has constituted and regulated. The winds are his messengers. The flaming fire his servant. However we may conceive of these powers, whether as really powers acting under necessary laws, or as immediate manifestations of divine energy, in either case it is proper to attribute all their movements to God. These movements were ordained by his wisdom, and are executed directly or indirectly by his will. Every effect which we produce in the material world, we produce by instrumentality. Our arms, hands, &c. are our first instruments. All that we do by the voluntary use of these, we attribute to ourselves. Now if we increase the instrumentality by the addition of an axe, spade, or hammer, still the effect is justly attributed in the same way. It is perfectly clear that to whatever extent we multiply the instruments, the principle is the same. Whether I do the deed directly with my hand, or do it by an instrument held in my hand, or by a concatenation of machinery, reaching from "the centre to the utmost pole,"--if I contemplate the deed, and designedly accomplish it in this way, the deed is mine. And not only is the last deed contemplated as the end of all this arrangement mine, all the intermediary movements produced as the necessary chain of antecedents and sequents by which the last is to be attained, are mine likewise.
I use powers and instruments whose energy and capacity I have learned by experience, but in whose constitution I have had no hand. They are provided for me, and I merely use them. But God in working by these, works by what his own wisdom and power have created; and therefore _a fortiori_ must every effect produced by these, according to his design, and by his volition as at least the first power of the series, be attributed to him,--be called his doing. He causeth the sun to rise and set. "He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man." "He watereth the hills from his chambers." This is not merely poetry. It is truth.
Now the system we are considering goes one step further; it makes human volitions as much the objects of the eternal design, and as really the effects of the divine volition, as the rising of the stars, the flight of the lightning, the tumult of the waters, or the light which spreadeth itself like a garment over creation. Every volition of created mind is God's act, as really as any effect in nature. We have seen how every volition is connected with its motive; how the motive lies in a pre-constitution; how the series of antecedents and sequents necessarily runs back and connects itself with the infinite wisdom. God's volition is his own act; the effect immediately produced by that volition is his own deed. Let that effect be the creation of man: the man in all his powers and susceptibilities is God's work; the objects around him are God's work; the correlation of the objects with the sensitivity of man is God's work; the volition which necessarily takes place as the result of this correlation is God's work. The volition of the man is as strictly attributable to God, as, according to our common apprehensions, the blow which I give with an axe is attributable to me. What is true of the first man, must be equally true of the man removed by a thousand generations, for the intermediary links are all ordained by God under an inevitable necessity. God is really, therefore, the sole doer--the only efficient, the only cause. All beings and things, all motion and all volition, are absolutely resolved into divine volition. God is the author of all beings, things, motions, and volitions, and as much the author of any one of these as of any other, and the author of all in the same way and in the same sense. Set aside self-determining will, and there is no stopping-place between a human volition and the divine volition. The human volition is but the divine, manifested through a lengthened it may be, but a connected and necessary chain of antecedents and sequents. I see no way of escaping from this, as a necessary and legitimate consequence of the necessary determination of will. And what is this consequence but pantheism? God is the universal and all-pervading intelligence--the universal and only power. Every movement of nature is necessary; every movement of mind is necessary; because necessarily caused and determined by the divine volition. There is no life but his, no thought but his, no efficiency but his. He is the soul of the world.
Spinosa never represented himself as an atheist, and according to the following representation appears rather as a pantheist. "He held that God is the _cause_ of all things; but that he acts, not from choice, but from necessity; and, of consequence, that he is the involuntary author of all the good and evil, virtue and vice, which are exhibited in human life." (Dugald Stewart, vol. 6. p. 276, note.)
Cousin remarks, too, that Spinosa deserves rather the reproach of pantheism than of atheism. His pantheism was fairly deduced from the doctrine of necessary determination, which he advocated.