Part 7

In short, if the advocates of free-agency had shaken off the common illusion that there is a real efficiency, or causal influence, exerted by the desires of the soul, they would have made it known in the most explicit and unequivocal terms. Instead of resorting to the expedients they have adopted, in order to surmount the difficulties by which they have been surrounded, they would, every where and on all occasions, have reminded their adversaries that those difficulties arise merely from ascribing a literal signification to language, which is only true in a metaphorical sense; and we should have had pages, not to say volumes, concerning this use of language, where we have not had a syllable.

If the illusion in question has been as general as I have supposed, it is not difficult to account for its prevalence. The fact that a desire, or affection is the indispensable condition, the invariable antecedent, of an act of the will, is of itself sufficient to account for the prevalence of such a notion. Nothing is more common than for men to mistake an invariable antecedent for an efficient cause. This source of error, it is well known, has given rise to some of the most obstinate delusions that have ever infested and enslaved the human mind.

And besides, when such an error or illusion prevails, its hold upon the mind is confirmed and rendered almost invincible by the circumstance, that it is interwoven into the structure of all our language. In this case in particular, we never cease to speak of "the active principles," of "the ruling passion," of "ungovernable desire," of "the dominion of lust," of being "enslaved to a vicious propensity;"--in a thousand ways, the idea that there is a real efficiency in the desires and affections of the soul, is wrought into the structure of our language; and hence, there is no wonder that it has gained such an ascendency over our thoughts. It has met us at every turn; it has presented itself to us in a thousand shapes; it has become so familiar, that we have not even stopped to inquire into its true nature. Its dominion has become complete and secure, just because its truth has never been doubted.

The illusion in question, if it be one, has derived an accession of strength from another source. It is a fact, that whenever we feel intensely, we do, as a general thing, act with a proportioned degree of energy; and _vice versa_. Hence, we naturally derive the impression, that the determinations of the will are produced by the strength of our feelings. If the passion or desire is languid, (since we must use a metaphor,) the action is in general feeble; and if it is intense, the act is _usually_ powerful and energetic. Hence, we are prone to conclude, that the mind is moved to act by the influence of passion or desire; and that the energy of the action corresponds with the strength of the motive, or moving principle.

Though the principle in question has been so commonly received, I think we should be led to question it in consequence of the conclusions which have been deduced from it. If our desires, affections, &c., operate to influence the will, how can it be free in putting forth volitions? How does Mr. Locke meet this difficulty? Does he tell us, that it arises solely from our mistaking a metaphorical for a literal mode of expression? Far from it.

He does not place liberty on the broad ground, that the desires by which volitions are supposed to be determined, are in reality nothing more than the conditions or occasions on which the mind acts; and that they themselves can exert no positive influence or efficiency. The liberty of the soul consists, according to him, not in the circumstance that its desires do not _operate_, but in its power to arrest the operation of its desires. He admits that they operate, that they tend to produce volition; but the mind is nevertheless free, because it can suspend the operation of desire, and prevent the tendency thereof from passing into effect. "There being," says he, "in us a great many uneasinesses always soliciting and ready to determine the will, it is natural, as I have said, that the greatest or most pressing should determine the will to the next action; and so it does for the most part, but not always. For the mind having in most cases, as is evident in experience, a power to suspend the execution and satisfaction of its desires, and so all, one after another, examine them on all sides, and weigh them with others. In this lies the liberty man has."

Thus we are supposed to be free, because we have a power to resist, in some cases at least, the influence of desire. But this is not always the case. Our desires may be so strong as entirely to overcome us--and what then? Why we cease to be free agents; and it is only when the storm of passion subsides, that we are restored to the rank of accountable beings. "Sometimes a boisterous passion hurries away our thoughts," says Locke, "as a hurricane does our bodies, without leaving us the liberty of thinking on other things, which we would rather choose. But as soon as the mind regains the power to stop or continue, begin or forbear, any of these motives of the body without, or thoughts within, according as it thinks fit to prefer either to the other, we then consider the man as a free-agent again." This language is employed by Mr. Locke, while attempting to define the idea of liberty or free-agency; and he evidently supposed, as appears from the above passage, as well as from some others, that we frequently cease to be free-agents, in consequence of the irresistible power of our desires or passions.

Dr. Reid set out from the same position, and he arrived at the same conclusion. He frequently speaks of the appetites and passions as so many forces, whose action is "directly upon the will." "They draw a man towards a certain object, without any further view, by a sort of violence."--Essays, p. 18. "When a man is acted upon by motives of this kind, he finds it easy to yield to the strongest. They are like two forces pushing him in contrary directions. To yield to the strongest, he need only be passive," p. 237. "In actions that proceed from appetite and passion, we are passive in part and only in part active. They are therefore in part imputed to the passion; and if it is supposed to be irresistible, we do not impute them to the man at all. Even an American savage judges in this way; when in a fit of drunkenness he kills his friend; as soon as he comes to himself, he is very sorry for what he has done, but pleads that drink, and not he, was the cause," p. 14, 15. Such is the dreadful consequence, which Dr. Reid boldly deduces from the principle, that the appetites and passions do really act upon the will. Though he was an advocate of free-agency; yet, holding this principle, he could speak of _actions that are partly passive;_ and that in so far as they are passive, he maintained they should not be imputed to the man whose actions they are, but to the passions by which they are produced, This may appear to be strange doctrine for an advocate of free-agency and accountability; but it seems to be the natural and inevitable consequence of the commonly received notion with respect to the relation which subsists between the passions and the will.

The principle that our appetites, desires, &c., do exert a real influence in the production of volition, was common to Edwards, Locke, and Reid: indeed, so far as I know, it has been universally received. In the opinion of Edwards, this influence becomes "so powerful" at times as to establish a moral necessity beyond all question; and in that of Locke and Reid, it is sometimes so great as to destroy free-agency and accountability. Is not this inference well drawn? It seems to me that it is; and this constitutes one reason, why I deny the principle from which it is deduced.

Is it true, then, that any power or efficacy belongs to the sensitive or emotive part of our nature? Reflection must show us, I think, that it is absurd to suppose that any desire, affection, or disposition of the mind, can really and truly exert any positive or productive influence. When we speak of the appetites, desires, affections, &c., as the "active principles" of our nature, we must needs understand this as a purely metaphorical mode of expression.

Edwards himself has shown the impropriety of regarding similar modes of speech as a literal expression of the truth. "To talk of liberty," says he, "or the contrary, as belonging to the _very will itself_, is not to speak good sense; if we judge of sense, and nonsense, by the original and proper signification of words. For the will _itself_ is not an agent that _has a will:_ the power of choosing, itself, has not a power of choosing. That which has the power of volition is the man, or the soul, and not the power of volition itself. To be free is the property of an agent, who is possessed of powers and faculties, as much as to be cunning, valiant, bountiful, or zealous. But _these qualities are the properties of persons_, and not the _properties of properties_." This remark, no doubt, is perfectly just, as well as highly important. And it may be applied with equal force and propriety, to the practice of speaking of the strength of motives, or inclinations, or desires; for power is a "property of the person, or the soul; and not the property of a property."

It appeared exceedingly absurd to the author of the "Inquiry," to speak of "the free acts of the will," as being _determined by the will itself;_ because the _will_ is not an agent, and "actions are to be ascribed to agents, and not properly to the powers and properties of agents." But he seemed to perceive no absurdity, in speaking of "the free acts of the will," as being caused by the strongest motives, by the dispositions and appetites of the soul. Now, are the strongest motives, as they are called, are the strongest dispositions and desires of the soul, agents, or are they merely the properties of agents? Let the necessitarian answer this question, and then determine whether his logic is consistent with itself.

Mr. Locke, also, has well said, that it is absurd to inquire whether "the will be free or no; inasmuch as _liberty_, which is but a _power_, belongs only to agents, and cannot be an attribute or modification of will, which is also but a power." Though Mr. Locke applied this remark to the usual form of speech, by which freedom is ascribed to the will, he failed to do so in regard to the language by which power, which is a property of the mind itself, is ascribed to our desires, or passions, or affections, which are likewise properties of the mind. And hence have arisen many of his difficulties in regard to the freedom of human actions. Supposing that our desires exerted some positive influence or efficiency in the production of volitions, his views on the subject of free-agency become vague, inconsistent, fluctuating and unsatisfactory.

The hypothesis that the desires impel the will to act, is inconsistent with observed facts. If this hypothesis were true, the phenomena of volition would be very different from what they are. A man may desire that it should rain, for example; he may have the most intense feeling on this subject imaginable, and there may be no counteracting desire or feeling whatever; now if desire ever impelled a man to volition, it would induce him, in such a case, to will that it should rain. But no man, in his senses, ever puts forth a volition to make it rain--and why? Just because he is a rational creature, and knows that his volition cannot produce any such effect. In the same manner, a man might wish to fly, or to do a thousand other things which are beyond his power; and yet not make the least effort to do so, not because he has no power to put forth such efforts, but because he does not choose to make a fool of himself: This shows that desire, feeling, &c., is merely one of the conditions necessary to volition, and not its producing cause.

Again. It has been frequently observed, since the time of Butler, that our passive impressions often become weaker and weaker, while our active habits become stronger and stronger. Thus, the feeling of pity, by being frequently excited, may become less and less vivid, while the active habit of benevolence, by which it is supposed to be induced, becomes more and more energetic. That is to say, while the power, as it is called, or the causal influence, is gradually diminishing, the effect, which is supposed to flow from it, is becoming more and more conspicuous. And again, the feeling of pity is sometimes exceedingly strong; that is to say, exceedingly vivid and painful, while there is no act attending it. The passive impression or susceptibility is entirely dissociated, in many cases, from the acts of the will. The feeling often exists in all its _power_, and yet there is no act, and no disposition to act, on the part of the individual who is the subject of it. The cause operates, and yet the effect does not follow!

All that we can say is, that when we see the mind deeply agitated, and, as it were, carried away by a storm of passion, we also observe that it frequently acts with great vehemency. But we do not observe, and we do not know, that this increased _power of action_, is the result of an increased _power of feeling_. All that we know is, that as a matter of fact, when our feelings are languid, we are apt to act but feebly; and that when they are intense, we are accustomed to act with energy. Or, in other words, that we do not _ordinarily_ act with so much energy in order to gratify a slight feeling or emotion, as we do to gratify one of greater intensity and painfulness. But it is wrong to conclude from hence, that it is the increased intensity of feeling, which produces the increased energy of the action. No matter how intense the feeling, it is wrong to conclude, that it literally causes us to act, that it ever lays the will under constraint, and thereby destroys, even for a moment, our free-agency. Such an assumption is a mere hypothesis, unsupported by observation, inconsistent with the dictates of reason, and irreconcilable with observed facts.

I repeat it, such an assumption is inconsistent with observed facts; for who that has any energy of will, has not, on many a trying occasion, stood firm amid the fiercest storm of passion; and, though the elements of discord raged within, remained _himself_ unmoved; giving not the least sign or manifestation of what was passing in his bosom? Who has not felt, on such an occasion, that although the passions may storm, yet the will alone is power?

It is not uncommon to see this truth indirectly recognized by those who _absolutely know_ that some power is exerted by our passions and desires, and that the will is always determined by the strongest. Thus, says President Day, "our acts of choice, are _not_ always controlled by those emotions which _appear to be most vivid_. We often find a determined and settled purpose, apparently calm, but unyielding, which carries a man steadily forward, amid all the solicitations of appetite and passion The inflexible determination of Howard, _gave law to his emotions_, and guided his benevolent movements," p. 65. Here, although President Day holds that the will is determined by the strongest desire, passion, or emotion, he unconsciously admits that the will, "the inflexible determination," is independent of them all.

Let it be supposed, that no one means so absurd a thing as to say, that the affections themselves act upon the will, but that the mind in the exercise of its affections acts upon it, and thereby exerts a power over its determinations; let us suppose, that this is the manner in which a real force is supposed to bear upon the will; and what will be the consequence? Why, if the will is not distinguished from the affections, we shall have the will acting upon itself; a doctrine to which the necessitarian will not listen for a moment. And if they are distinguished from the will, we shall have two powers of action, two forces in the mind, each contending for the mastery. But what do we mean by a will, if it is not the faculty by which the mind acts, by which it exerts a _real force?_ And if this be the idea and definition of a will, we cannot distinguish the will from the affections, and say that the latter exerts a real force, without making two wills. This seems to be the inevitable consequence of the commonly received notion, that the mind, in the exercise of its affections, does really act upon the will with an impelling force. Indeed, there seems to have been no little perplexity and confusion of conception on this subject, arising from the extreme subtlety of our mental processes, as well as from the ambiguities of language.

The truth is, that in feeling the mind is passive; and it is absurd to make a passive impression, the active cause of any thing. The sensibility does not _act_, it merely _suffers_. The appetites and passions, which have always been called the "active powers," the "moving principles," and so forth, should be called the passive susceptibilities. Unless this truth be clearly and fully recognized, and the commonly received notion respecting the relation which the appetites and passions sustain to the will, to the _active power_, be discarded, it seems to me, that the great doctrine of the liberty of the will, must continue to be involved in the sadest perplexity, the most distressing darkness.

SECTION IX.

OF THE LIBERTY OF INDIFFERENCE.

IF, as I have endeavoured to show, the appetites and passions exert no positive influence in the production of volition, if they do not sustain the relation of cause to the acts of the will; then is the doctrine of the liberty of indifference placed in a clear and strong light having admitted that the sensitive part of our nature always tends to produce volition, and in some cases irresistibly produces it, the advocates of free agency have not been able to maintain the doctrine of a perfect liberty in regard to all human actions. They have been compelled to retire from the broad and open field of the controverted territory, and to take their stand in a dark corner, in order to contend for that perfect liberty, without which there cannot be a perfect and unclouded accountability. Hence, it has been no uncommon thing, even for those who have been the most disposed to sympathize with them, to feel a dissatisfaction in reading what they have written on the subject of a liberty of indifference. This they have placed in a perfect freedom to choose between a few insignificant things, in regard to which we have no feeling; while, in regard to the great objects which relate to our eternal destiny, we have been supposed to enjoy no such freedom.

The true liberty of indifference does not consist, as I have endeavoured to show, in a power to resist the influence of the appetites and passions struggling to produce volition; because there is no such influence in existence. This notion is encumbered with insuperable difficulties; it supposes two powers struggling for the mastery--the desires on the one hand, and the will on the other; and that when the desires are so strong as to prevail, and bear us away in spite of ourselves, we cease to be free agents. It supposes that at no time we have a perfect liberty, unless we are perfectly destitute of feeling; and that at some of the most trying, and critical, and awful moments of our existence, we have no liberty at all; the whole man being passive to the power and dominion of the passions. What a wound is thus given to the cause of free-agency and accountability! What scope is thus allowed for the sophistry of the passions! Every man who can persuade himself that his appetites, his desires, or his passions, have been too strong for him, may blind his mind to a sense of his guilt, and lull his conscience into a fatal repose.

The necessitarian, like a skilful general, is not slow to attack this weak point in the philosophy of free-agency. If our emotions operate to produce volition, says he, then the strongest must prevail; to say otherwise, is to say that it is not the strongest. This is the ground uniformly occupied by President Day. And it is urged by President Edwards, that if a great degree of such influence destroys free agency, as it is supposed to do, then every smaller degree of it must impair free agency; and hence, according to the principles and scheme of its advocates, it cannot be perfect. Is not this inference well drawn? Indeed, it seems to me, that while the notion that our desires possess a real power and efficacy, which are exerted over the will, maintains its hold upon the mind, the great doctrine of liberty can never be seen in the brightness of its full-orbed glory; and that it must, at times, suffer a total eclipse.

The liberty which we really possess, then, does not consist in an indifference of the desires and affections, but in that of the will itself. We are perfectly free, says the libertarian, in regard to all those things about which our feelings are in a state of indifference; such as touching one of two spots, or choosing one of two objects that are perfectly alike. To this the necessitarian replies, what does it signify that a man has a perfect liberty in regard to the choice of "one of two peppercorns?" Are not such things perfectly insignificant, and unworthy "the grave attention of the philosopher," while treating of the great questions of moral good and evil?

There is some truth in this reply, and some injustice. It truly signifies nothing, that we are at perfect liberty to choose between two pepper-corns, if we are not so to choose between good and evil, life and death. But in making this attack upon the position of his opponent, when viewed as designed to serve the cause of free-agency, the necessitarian overlooks its bearing upon his own scheme. He contends, that the mind cannot act unless it is made to act by some extraneous influence: this is a universal proposition, extending to all our mental acts; and hence, if it can be shown that, in a single instance, the mind can and does put forth a volition, without being made to do so, his doctrine is subverted from its foundations. If this can be shown, by a reference to the case of "two pepper-corns," it may be made to serve an important purpose in philosophy, how much soever it may be despised by the philosopher.