II. We are prepared for another important inquiry, to wit: whether the words, certainty, moral certainty, &c., as used by Necessitarians, are identical in their meaning with that of Necessity as above defined? The doctrine of Necessity would never be received by the public at all, but for the language in which it is clothed, language which prevents the public seeing it as it is. At one time it is called Moral, in distinction from Natural Necessity. At another, it is said to be nothing but Certainty, or moral Certainty, &c. Now the question arises, what is this Certainty? Is it or is it not, real Necessity, and nothing else? That it is, I argue,

1. From the fact, as shown above, that there can possibly be no Certainty, which does not fall either under the relation of Liberty or Necessity as above defined. The Certainty of Necessitarians does not, according to their own showing, fall under the former relation: it must, therefore, fall under the latter. It must be naked Necessity, and nothing else.

2. While they have defined the term Necessity, and have not that of Certainty, they use the latter term as avowedly synonymous with the former. The latter, therefore, must be explained by the former, and not the former by the latter.

3. The Certainty which they hold is a certainty which avowedly excludes the possibility of different and opposite acts of Will under the influences, or motives, under which particular acts are put forth. The Certainty under consideration, therefore, is not necessity of a particular kind, a necessity consistent with liberty and moral obligation. It is the Necessity above defined, in all its naked deformity.III. We are now prepared for a distinct statement of the doctrine of Ability, according to the Necessitarian scheme. Even the Necessitarians, with very few exceptions, admit, that in the absence of all power to do right or wrong, we can be under no obligation to do the one or avoid the other. “A man,” says Pres. Day, “is not responsible for remaining in his place if he has no power to move. He is not culpable for omitting to walk, if he has no strength to walk. He is not under obligation to do anything for which he has not what Edwards calls natural power.” It is very important for us to understand the nature of this ability, which lies at the foundation of moral obligation; to understand, I repeat, what this Ability is, according to the theory under consideration. This Ability, according to the doctrine of Liberty, has been well stated by Cousin, to wit: “The moment we take the resolution to do an action, we take it with a consciousness of being able to take a contrary resolution;” and by Dr. Dwight, who says of a man’s sin, that it is “chosen by him unnecessarily, while possessed of a power to choose otherwise.” The nature of this Ability, according to the Necessitarian scheme, has been stated with equal distinctness in the Christian Spectator. “If we take this term [Ability or Power] in the absolute sense, as including all the antecedents to a given volition, there is plainly no such thing as power to the contrary; for in this sense of the term,” as President Day states, “a man never has power to do anything but what he actually performs.” “In this comprehensive, though rather unusual sense of the word,” says President Day, “a man has not power to do anything which he does not do.” The meaning of the above extracts cannot be mistaken. Nor can any one deny that they contain a true exposition of the doctrine of Necessity, to wit: that under the influences under which men do will, and consequently act, it is absolutely impossible for them to will and act differently from what they do. In what sense, then, have they power to will and act differently according to this doctrine? To this question President Day has given a correct and definite answer. “The man who wills in a particular way, under the influence of particular feelings, might will differently under a different influence.”

Now, what is the doctrine of Ability, according to this scheme? A man, for example, commits an act of sin. He ought, in the stead of that act, to have put forth an act of obedience. Without the power to render this obedience, as President Day admits, there can be no obligation to do it. When the Necessitarian says, that the creature, when he sins, has power to obey, he means, not that under the influence under which the act of sin is committed, the creature has power to obey; but that under a different influence he might obey. But mark, it is under the identical influence under which a man does sin, and under which, according to the doctrine of Necessity, he cannot but sin, that he is required not to sin. Now how can a man’s ability, and obligation not to sin under a given influence, grow out of the fact, that, under a different influence, an influence under which he cannot but do right, he might not sin? This is all the ability and ground of obligation as far as Ability, Natural Ability as it is called, is concerned, which the doctrine of Necessity admits. A man is, by a power absolutely irresistible, placed in circumstances in which he cannot possibly but sin. In these circumstances, it is said, that he has natural ability not to sin, and consequently ought not to do it. Why? Because, to his acting differently, no change in his nature or powers is required. These are “perfect and entire, wanting nothing.” All that is required is, that his circumstances be changed, and then he might not sin. “In what sense,” asks President Day, “is it true, that a man has power to will the contrary of what he actually wills? He has such power that, with a sufficient inducement, he will make an opposite choice.” Is not this the strangest idea of Natural Ability as constituting the foundation of obligation, of which the human mind ever tried to conceive? In illustration, let us suppose that a man, placed in the city of New York, cannot but sin; placed in that of Boston, he cannot but be holy, and that the fact whether he is in the one or the other city depends upon the irresistible providence of God. He is placed in New York where he cannot but sin. He is told that he ought not to do it, and that he is highly guilty for not being perfectly holy. It is also asserted that he has all the powers of moral agency, all the ability requisite to lay the foundation for the highest conceivable obligation to be holy. What is the evidence? he asks. Is it possible for me, in my present circumstances, to avoid sin? and in my present circumstances, you know, I cannot but be. I acknowledge, the Necessitarian says, that under present influences, you cannot but sin, and that you cannot but be subject to these influences. Still, I affirm, that you have all the powers of moral agency, all the natural ability requisite to obedience, and to the highest conceivable obligation to obedience. Because, in the first place, even in New York, you could obey if you chose. You have, therefore, natural, though not moral, power to obey. But stop, friend, right here. When you say that I might obey, if I chose, I would ask, if choosing, as in the command, “choose life,” is not the very thing required of me? When, therefore, you affirm that I might obey, if I chose, does it not mean, in reality, that I might choose, if I should choose? Is not your Natural Ability this, that I might obey if I did obey?^[2] I cannot deny, the Necessitarian replies, that you have correctly stated this doctrine. Permit me to proceed in argument, however. In the next place, all that you need in order to be holy as required, is a change, not of your powers, but of the influences which control the action of those powers. With no change in your constitution or powers, you need only to be placed in Boston instead of New York, and there you cannot but be holy. Is it not as clear as light, therefore, that you have now all the powers of moral agency, all the ability requisite to the highest conceivable obligation to be holy instead of sinful?

I fully understand you, the sinner replies. But remember, that it is not in Boston, where, as you acknowledge, I cannot be, that I am required not to sin; but here, in New York, where I cannot but be, and cannot possibly but sin. It is here, and not somewhere else, that I am required not to sin. How can the fact, that if I were in Boston, where I could not but be holy, I might not sin, prove, that here, in New York, I have any ability, either natural or moral—am under any obligation whatever—not to sin? These are the difficulties which press upon me. How do you remove them according to your theory?

I can give no other answer, the Necessitarian replies, than that already given. If that does not silence for ever every excuse for sin in your mind, it is wholly owing to the perverseness of your heart, to its bitter hostility to the truth. I may safely appeal to the Necessitarian himself, whether I have not here given an uncaricatured expose of his theory.