  I. Statement Of Edwards’s System. II. The Legitimate Consequences Of This System. III. An Examination of the Arguments Against a Self-Determining Will. A REVIEW OF EDWARDS’S “INQUIRY INTO THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.” CONTAINING
BY HENRY PHILIP TAPPAN. “I am afraid that Edwards’s book (however well meant,) has done much harm in England, as it has secured a favourable hearing to the same doctrines, which, since the time of Clarke, had been generally ranked among the most dangerous errors of Hobbes and his disciples.”—Dugald Stewart. NEW-YORK: JOHN S. TAYLOR, THEOLOGICAL PUBLISHER AND BOOKSELLER, 1839. Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1839, by G. F. Hopkins, Printer, 2 Ann-street. INTRODUCTION.Discussions respecting the will, have, unhappily, been confounded with theological opinions, and hence have led to theological controversies, where predilections for a particular school or sect, have generally prejudged the conclusions of philosophy. As a part of the mental constitution, the will must be subjected to the legitimate methods of psychological investigation, and must abide the result. If we enter the field of human consciousness in the free, fearless, and honest spirit of Baconian observation in order to arrive at the laws of the reason or the imagination, what should prevent us from pursuing the same enlightened course in reference to the will? Is it because responsibility and the duties of morality and religion are more immediately connected with the will? This, indeed, throws solemnity around our investigations, and warns us of caution; but, at the same time, so far from repressing investigation, it affords the highest reason why we should press it to the utmost limit of consciousness. Nothing surely can serve more to fix our impressions of moral obligation, or to open our eye to the imperishable truth and excellency of religion, than a clear and ripe knowledge of that which makes us the subjects of duty. As a believer in philosophy, I claim unbounded liberty of thought, and by thinking I hope to arrive at truth. As a believer in the Bible I always anticipate that the truths to which philosophy leads me, will harmonize with its facts and doctrines. If in the result there should appear to be a collision, it imposes upon me the duty of re-examining both my philosophy and my interpretation of the text. In this way I may in the end remove the difficulty, and not only so, but even gain from the temporary and apparent collision, a deeper insight into both philosophy and religion. If the difficulty cannot be removed, then it remains a vexed point. It does not follow, however, that I must either renounce the philosophical conclusion, or remove the text. If the whole of philosophy or its leading truths were in opposition to the whole of revelation or its leading truths, we should then evidently be placed on the alternative of denying one or the other; but as the denial of philosophy would be the destruction of reason, there would no longer remain in our being any principle on which a revelation could be received. Such a collision would therefore disprove the claims of any system to be from Heaven. But let us suppose, on the other hand, that with every advance of philosophy the facts of the Bible are borne aloft, and their divine authority and their truth made more manifest, have we not reason to bless the researches which have enabled us to perceive more clearly the light from Heaven? A system of truth does not fear, it courts philosophical scrutiny. Its excellency will be most resplendent when it has had the most fiery trial of thought. Nothing would so weaken my faith in the Bible as the fact of being compelled to tremble for its safety whenever I claimed and exercised the prerogative of reason. And what I say of it as a whole, I say of doctrines claiming to be derived from it. Theologists are liable to impose upon themselves when they argue from the truths of the Bible to the truths of their philosophy; either under the view that the last are deducible from the former, or that they serve to account for and confirm the former. How often is their philosophy drawn from some other source, or handed down by old authority, and rendered venerable by associations arbitrary and accidental; and instead of sustaining the simplicity of the Bible, the doctrine is perhaps cast into the mould of the philosophy. It is a maxim commended by reason and confirmed by experience, that in pursuing our investigations in any particular science we are to confine ourselves rigorously to its subjects and methods, neither seeking nor fearing collision with any other science. We may feel confident that ultimately science will be found to link with science, forming a universal and harmonious system of truth; but this can by no means form the principle of our particular investigations. The application of this maxim is no less just and necessary where a philosophy or science holds a relation to revelation. It is a matter of the highest interest that in the developements of such philosophy or science, it should be found to harmonize with the revelation; but nevertheless this cannot be received as the principle on which we shall aim to develope it. If there is a harmony, it must be discovered; it cannot be invented and made. The Cardinals determined upon the authority of Scripture, as they imagined, what the science of astronomy must be, and compelled the old man Gallileo to give the lie to his reason; and since then, the science of geology has been attempted, if not to be settled, at least to be limited in its researches in the same way. Science, however, has pursued her steady course resistlessly, settling her own bounds and methods, and selecting her own fields, and giving to the world her own discoveries. And is the truth of the Bible unsettled? No. The memory of Gallileo and of Cuvier is blessed by the same lips which name the name of Christ. Now we ask the same independence of research in the philosophy of the human mind, and no less with respect to the Will than with respect to any other faculty. We wish to make this purely a psychological question. Let us not ask what philosophy is demanded by Calvinism in opposition to Pelagianism and Arminianism, or by the latter in opposition to the former; let us ask simply for the laws of our being. In the end we may present another instance of truth honestly and fearlessly sought in the legitimate exercise of our natural reason, harmonizing with truths revealed. One thing is certain; the Bible no more professes to be a system of formal mental philosophy, than it professes to contain the sciences of astronomy and geology. If mental philosophy is given there, it is given in facts of history, individual and national, in poetry, prophecy, law, and ethics; and as thus given, must be collected into a system by observation and philosophical criticism. But observations upon these external facts could not possibly be made independently of observations upon internal facts—the facts of the consciousness; and the principles of philosophical criticism can be obtained only in the same way. To him who looks not within himself, poetry, history, law, ethics, and the distinctions of character and conduct, would necessarily be unintelligible. No one therefore can search the Bible for its philosophy, who has not already read philosophy in his own being. We shall find this amply confirmed in the whole history of theological opinion. Every interpreter of the Bible, every author of a creed, every founder of a sect, plainly enough reveals both the principles of his philosophy and their influence upon himself. Every man who reflects and aims to explain, is necessarily a philosopher, and has his philosophy. Instead therefore of professing to oppose the Bible to philosophy, or instead of the pretence of deducing our philosophy solely and directly from the Bible, let us openly declare that we do not discard philosophy, but seek it in its own native fields; and that inasmuch as it has a being and a use, and is related to all that we know and do, we are therefore determined to pursue it in a pure, truth-loving spirit. I am aware, however, that the doctrine of the will is so intimately associated with great and venerable names, and has so long worn a theological complexion, that it is well nigh impossible to disintegrate it. The authority of great and good men, and theological interests, even when we are disposed to be candid, impartial, and independent, do often insensibly influence our reasonings. It is out of respect to these old associations and prejudices, and from the wish to avoid all unnecessary strangeness of manner in handling an old subject, and more than all, to meet what are regarded by many as the weightiest and most conclusive reasonings on this subject, that I open this discussion with a review of “Edwards’s Inquiry into the Freedom of the Will.” There is no work of higher authority among those who deny the self-determining power of the will; and none which on this subject has called forth more general admiration for acuteness of thought and logical subtlety. I believe there is a prevailing impression that Edwards must be fairly met in order to make any advance in an opposite argument. I propose no less than this attempt, presumptuous though it may seem, yet honest and made for truth’s sake. Truth is greater and more venerable than the names of great and venerable men, or of great and venerable sects: and I cannot believe that I seek truth with a proper love and veneration, unless I seek her, confiding in herself alone, neither asking the authority of men in her support, nor fearing a collision with them, however great their authority may be. It is my interest to think and believe aright, no less than to act aright; and as right action is meritorious not when compelled and accidental, but when free and made under the perception and conviction of right principles; so also right thinking and believing are meritorious, either in an intellectual or moral point of view, when thinking and believing are something more than gulping down dogmas because Austin, or Calvin, or Arminius, presents the cup. Facts of history or of description are legitimately received on testimony, but truths of our moral and spiritual being can be received only on the evidence of consciousness, unless the testimony be from God himself; and even in this case we expect that the testimony, although it may transcend consciousness, shall not contradict it. The internal evidence of the Bible under the highest point of view, lies in this: that although there be revelations of that which transcends consciousness, yet wherever the truths come within the sphere of consciousness, there is a perfect harmony between the decisions of developed reason and the revelation. Now in the application of these principles, if Edwards have given us a true psychology in relation to the will, we have the means of knowing it. In the consciousness, and in the consciousness alone, can a doctrine of the will be ultimately and adequately tested. Nor must we be intimidated from making this test by the assumption that the theory of Edwards alone sustains moral responsibility and evangelical religion. Moral responsibility and evangelical religion, if sustained and illustrated by philosophy, must take a philosophy which has already on its own grounds proved itself a true philosophy. Moral responsibility and evangelical religion can derive no support from a philosophy which they are taken first to prove. But although I intend to conduct my argument rigidly on psychological principles, I shall endeavour in the end to show that moral responsibility is really sustained by this exposition of the will; and that I have not, to say the least, weakened one of the supports of evangelical religion, nor shorn it of one of its glories. The plan of my undertaking embraces the following particulars: I. A statement of Edwards’s system. II. The legitimate consequences of this system. III. An examination of the arguments against a self-determining will. IV. The doctrine of the will determined by an appeal to consciousness. V. This doctrine viewed in connexion with moral agency and responsibility. VI. This doctrine viewed in connexion with the truths and precepts of the Bible. The first three complete the review of Edwards, and make up the present volume. Another volume is in the course of preparation. I.A STATEMENT OF EDWARDS’S SYSTEM. Edwards’s System, or, in other words, his Philosophy of the Will, is contained in part I. of his “Inquiry into the Freedom of the Will.” This part comprises five sections, which I shall give with their titles in his own order. My object is to arrive at truth. I shall therefore use my best endeavours to make this statement with the utmost clearness and fairness. In this part of my work, my chief anxiety is to have Edwards perfectly understood. My quotations are made from the edition published by S. Converse, New-York, 1829. “Sec. I.—Concerning the Nature of the Will.” Edwards under this title gives his definition of the will. “The will is, that by which the mind chooses anything. The faculty of the will, is that power, or principle of mind, by which it is capable of choosing: an act of the will is the same as an act of choosing or choice.” (p. 15.) He then identifies “choosing” and “refusing:” “In every act of refusal the mind chooses the absence of the thing refused.” (p. 16.) The will is thus the faculty of choice. Choice manifests itself either in relation to one object or several objects. Where there is but one object, its possession or non-possession—its enjoyment or non-enjoyment—its presence or absence, is chosen. Where there are several objects, and they are so incompatible that the possession, enjoyment, or presence of one, involves the refusal of the others, then choice manifests itself in fixing upon the particular object to be retained, and the objects to be set aside. This definition is given on the ground that any object being regarded as positive, may be contrasted with its negative: and that therefore the refusing a negative is equivalent to choosing a positive; and the choosing a negative, equivalent to refusing a positive, and vice versa. Thus if the presence of an object be taken as positive, its absence is negative. To refuse the presence is therefore to choose the absence; and to choose the presence, to refuse the absence: so that every act of choosing involves refusing, and every act of refusing involves choosing; in other words, they are equivalents. Object of Will. The object in respect to which the energy of choice is manifested, inducing external action, or the action of any other faculty of the mind, is always an immediate object. Although other objects may appear desirable, that alone is the object of choice which is the occasion of present action—that alone is chosen as the subject of thought on which I actually think—that alone is chosen as the object of muscular exertion respecting which muscular exertion is made. That is, every act of choice manifests itself by producing some change or effect in some other part of our being. “The thing next chosen or preferred, when a man wills to walk, is not his being removed to such a place where he would be, but such an exertion and motion of his legs and feet, &c. in order to it.” The same principle applies to any mental exertion. Will and Desire. Edwards never opposes will and desire. The only distinction that can possibly be made is that of genus and species. They are the same in kind. “I do not suppose that will and desire are words of precisely the same signification: will seems to be a word of a more general signification, extending to things present and absent. Desire respects something absent. But yet I cannot think they are so entirely distinct that they can ever be properly said to run counter. A man never, in any instance, wills anything contrary to his desires, or desires anything contrary to his will. The thing which he wills, the very same he desires; and he does not will a thing and desire the contrary in any particular.” (p. 17.) The immediate object of will,—that object, in respect of which choice manifests itself by producing effects,—is also the object of desire; that is, of supreme desire, at that moment: so that, the object chosen is the object which appears most desirable; and the object which appears most desirable is always the object chosen. To produce an act of choice, therefore, we have only to awaken a preponderating desire. Now it is plain, that desire cannot be distinguished from passion. That which we love, we desire to be present, to possess, to enjoy: that which we hate, we desire to be absent, or to be affected in some way. The loving an object, and the desiring its enjoyment, are identical: the hating it, and desiring its absence or destruction, or any similar affection of it, are likewise identical. The will, therefore, is not to be distinguished, at least in kind, from the emotions and passions: this will appear abundantly as we proceed. In other works he expressly identifies them: “I humbly conceive, that the affections of the soul are not properly distinguishable from the will; as though they were two faculties of soul.” (Revival of Religion in New England, part I.) “God 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; which is called the understanding. The other faculty is that by which the soul does not merely perceive and view things, but is in some way inclined with respect to the things it views or considers; either is inclined to them, or is disinclined or averse from them. This faculty is called by various names: it is sometimes called inclination; and as it has respect to the actions that are determined or governed by it, is called will. The will and the affections of the soul are not two faculties: the affections are not essentially distinct from the will, nor do they differ from the mere actings of the will and inclination of the soul, but only in the liveliness and sensibleness of exercise.” (The Nature of the Affections, part I.) That Edwards makes but two faculties of the mind, the understanding and the will, as well as identifies the will and the passions, is fully settled by the above quotation. “Sec. II.—Concerning the Determination of Will.” Meaning of the term. “By determining the will, if the phrase be used with any meaning, must be intended, causing that the act of the will or choice should be thus and not otherwise; and the will is said to be determined, when in consequence of some action or influence, its choice is directed to, and fixed upon, some particular object. As when we speak of the determination of motion, we mean causing the motion of the body to be in such a direction, rather than in another. The determination of the will supposes an effect, which must have a cause. If the will be determined, there is a determiner.” Now the causation of choice and the determination of the will are here intended to be distinguished, no more than the causation of motion and the determination of the moving body. The cause setting a body in motion, likewise gives it a direction; and where there are several causes, a composition of the forces takes place, and determines both the extent and direction of the motion. So also the cause acting upon the will or the faculty of choice, in producing a choice determines its direction; indeed, choice cannot be conceived of, without also conceiving of something chosen, and where something is chosen, the direction of the choice is determined, that is, the will is determined. And where there are several causes acting upon the will, there is here likewise a composition of the mental forces, and the choice or the determination of the will takes place accordingly. (See p. 23.) Choice or volition then being an effect must have a cause. What is this cause? Motive. The cause of volition or choice is called motive. A cause setting a body in motion is properly called the motive of the body; hence, analogously, a cause exciting the will to choice is called the motive of the will. By long usage the proper sense of motive is laid aside, and it has come now to express only the cause or reason of volition. “By motive I mean the whole of that which moves, excites, or invites the mind to volition, whether that be one thing singly, or many things conjointly. And when I speak of the strongest motive, I have respect to the strength of the whole that operates to induce a particular act of volition, whether that be the strength of one thing alone, or of many together.” And “that motive which, as it stands in view of the mind, is the strongest, determines the will.” (p. 19.) This is general, and means nothing more than—1. the cause of volition is called motive; 2. that where there are several causes or motives of volition, the strongest cause prevails; 3. the cause is often complex; 4. in estimating the strength of the cause, if it be complex, all the particulars must be considered in their co-operation; and, 5. the strength of the motive “stands in view of the mind,” that is, it is something which the mind knows or is sensible of. What constitutes the strength of Motive? “Everything that is properly called a motive, excitement, or inducement, to a perceiving, willing agent, has some sort and degree of tendency or advantage to move or excite the will, previous to the effect, or to the act of will excited. This previous tendency of the motive is what I call the strength of the motive.” When different objects are presented to the mind, they awaken certain emotions, and appear more or less “inviting.” (p. 20.) In the impression thus at once produced, we perceive their “tendency or advantage to move or excite the will.” It is a preference or choice anticipated, an instantaneous perception of a quality in the object which we feel would determine our choice, if we were called upon to make a choice. The object is felt to be adapted to the state of the mind, and the state of the mind to the object. They are felt to be reciprocal. What is this quality which makes up the previous tendency? “Whatever is perceived or apprehended by an intelligent and voluntary agent, which has the nature and influence of a motive to volition or choice, is considered or viewed as good; nor has it any tendency to engage the election of the soul in any further degree than it appears such.” Now, as the will is determined by the strongest motive; and as the strength of motive lies in the previous tendency; and as the previous tendency is made up of the quality of goodness; and as the highest degree of this quality in any given case makes the strongest motive; therefore, it follows that the “will is always as the greatest apparent good is.” (p. 20.) The sense in which the term “good” is used. “I use the term ‘good’ as of the same import with ‘agreeable.’ To appear good to the mind, as I use the phrase, is the same as to appear agreeable, or seem pleasing to the mind. If it tends to draw the inclination and move the will, it must be under the notion of that which suits the mind. And therefore that must have the greatest tendency to attract and engage it, which, as it stands in the mind’s view, suits it best, and pleases it most; and in that sense is the greatest apparent good. The word good in this sense includes the avoiding of evil, or of that which is disagreeable and uneasy.” (p. 20.) It follows then that the will is always determined by that which seems most pleasing or appears most agreeable to the mind. This conclusion is in perfect accordance with the position with which Edwards set out: that will is always as the preponderating desire; indeed, that the will is the same in kind with desire, or with the affections; and an act of will or choice, nothing more than the strongest desire in reference to an immediate object, and a desire producing an effect in our mental or physical being. The determination of will is the strongest excitement of passion. That which determines will is the cause of passion. The strength of the cause lies in its perceived tendency to excite the passions and afford enjoyment. As possessing this tendency, it is called good, or pleasing, or agreeable; that is, suiting the state of the mind or the condition of the affections. The “good” which forms the characteristic of a cause or motive is an immediate good, or a good “in the present view of the mind.” (p. 21.) Thus a drunkard, before he drinks, may be supposed to weigh against each other the present pleasure of drinking and the remote painful consequences; and the painful consequences may appear to him to be greater than the present pleasure. But still the question truly in his mind, when he comes to drink, respects the present act of drinking only; and if this seems to him most pleasing, then he drinks. “If he wills to drink, then drinking is the proper object of the act of his will; and drinking, on some account or other, now appears most agreeable to him, and suits him best. If he chooses to refrain, then refraining is the immediate object of his will, and is most pleasing to him.” The reasoning is, that when the drunkard drinks, we are not to conclude that he has chosen future misery over future good, but that the act of drinking, in itself, is the object of choice; so that, in the view he has taken of it, it is to him the greatest apparent good. In general we may say, in accordance with this principle, that whenever the act of choice takes place, the object of that act comes up before the mind in such a way as to seem most pleasing to the mind; it is at the moment, and in the immediate relation, the greatest apparent good. The man thus never chooses what is disagreeable, but always what is agreeable to him. Proper use of the term most agreeable, in relation to the Will. “I have chosen rather to express myself thus, that the will always is as the greatest apparent good, or as what appears most agreeable, than to say the will is determined by the greatest apparent good, or by what seems most agreeable; because an appearing most agreeable to the mind, and the mind’s preferring, seem scarcely distinct. If strict propriety of speech be insisted on, it may more properly be said, that the voluntary action, which is the immediate consequence of the mind’s choice, is determined by that which appears most agreeable, than the choice itself.” (p. 21, 22.) Here the perception or sense of the most agreeable is identified in express terms with volition or choice. “The will is as the most agreeable,”—that is, the determination of will, which means its actual choice, as a fact of the consciousness is embraced in the sense of the most agreeable; and as the voluntary action, or the action, or change, or effect, following volition, in any part of our being,—as to walk, or talk, or read, or think,—has its cause in the volition, or the “mind’s choice,”—so it is entirely proper to say, either that this voluntary action is determined by the volition or that it is determined by the sense of the most agreeable. Edwards’s meaning plainly is, that the terms are convertible: volition may be called the cause of voluntary action, or the sense of the most agreeable may be called the cause. This is still a carrying out of the position, that the will is as the desire. “The greatest apparent good” being identical with “the most agreeable,” and this again being identical with the most desirable, it must follow, that whenever, in relation to any object, the mind is affected with the sense of the most agreeable, it presents the phenomenon of “volition” or “choice;” and still farther, that which is chosen is the most agreeable object; and is known to be such by the simple fact that it is chosen; for its being chosen, means nothing more than that it affects the mind with the sense of the most agreeable,—and the most agreeable is that which is chosen, and cannot be otherwise than chosen; for its being most agreeable, means nothing more than that it is the object of the mind’s choice or sense of the most agreeable. The object, and the mind regarded as a sensitive or willing power, are correlatives, and choice is the unition of both: so that if we regard choice as characterizing the object, then the object is affirmed to be the most agreeable; and if, on the other side, we regard choice as characterizing the mind, then the mind is affirmed to be affected with the sense of the most agreeable. Cause of Choice, or of the sense of the most agreeable. “Volition itself is always determined by that in or about the mind’s view of the object, which causes it to appear most agreeable. I say in or about the mind’s view of the object; because what has influence to render an object in view agreeable, is not only what appears in the object viewed, but also the manner of the view, and the state and circumstances of the mind that views.” (p. 22.) Choice being the unition of the mind’s sensitivity and the object,—that is, being an affection of the sensitivity, by reason of its perfect agreement and correlation with the object, and of course of the perfect agreement and correlation of the object with the sensitivity, in determining the cause of choice, we must necessarily look both to the mind and the object. Edwards accordingly gives several particulars in relation to each. I. In relation to the object, the sense of the most agreeable, or choice, will depend upon,— 1. The beauty of the object, “viewing it as it is in itself,” independently of circumstances. 2. “The apparent degree of pleasure or trouble attending the object, or the consequence of it,” or the object taken with its “concomitants” and consequences. 3. “The apparent state of the pleasure or trouble that appears with respect to distance of time. It is a thing in itself agreeable to the mind, to have pleasure speedily; and disagreeable to have it delayed.” (p. 22.) II. In relation to mind, the sense of agreeableness will depend, first, upon the manner of the mind’s view; secondly, upon the state of mind. Edwards, under the first, speaks of the object as connected with future pleasure. Here the manner of the mind’s view will have influence in two respects: 1. The certainty or uncertainty which the mind judges to attach to the pleasure; 2. The liveliness of the sense, or of the imagination, which the mind has of it. Now these may be in different degrees, compounded with different degrees of pleasure, considered in itself; and “the agreeableness of a proposed object of choice will be in a degree some way compounded of the degree of good supposed by the judgement, the degree of apparent probability or certainty of that good, and the degree of liveliness of the idea the mind has of that good.” (p. 23.) Secondly: In reference to objects generally, whether connected with present or future pleasure, the sense of agreeableness will depend also upon “the state of the mind which views a proposed object of choice.” (p. 24.) Here we have to consider “the particular temper which the mind has by nature, or that has been introduced or established by education, example, custom, or some other means; or the frame or state that the mind is in on a particular occasion.” (ibid.) Edwards here suggests, that it may be unnecessary to consider the state of the mind as a ground of agreeableness distinct from the two already mentioned: viz.—the nature and circumstances of the object, and the manner of the view. “Perhaps, if we strictly consider the matter,” he remarks, “the different temper and state of the mind makes no alteration as to the agreeableness of objects in any other way, than as it makes the objects themselves appear differently; beautiful or deformed, having apparent pleasure or pain attending them; and as it occasions the manner of the view to be different, causes the idea of beauty or deformity, pleasure or uneasiness, to be more or less lively.” (ibid.) In this remark, Edwards shows plainly how completely he makes mind and object to run together in choice, or how perfect a unition of the two, choice is. The state of the mind is manifested only in relation to the nature and circumstances of the object; and the sense of agreeableness being in the correlation of the two, the sense of the most agreeable or choice is such a perfect unition of the two, that, having described the object in its nature and circumstances in relation to the most agreeable, we have comprehended in this the state of mind. On the other hand, the nature and circumstances of the object, in relation to the most agreeable, can be known only by the state of mind produced by the presence of the object and its circumstances. To give an example,—let a rose be the object. When I describe the beauty and agreeableness of this object, I describe the state of mind in relation to it; for its beauty and agreeableness are identical with the sensations and emotions which I experience, hence, in philosophical language, called the secondary qualities of the object: and so, on the other hand, if I describe my sensations and emotions in the presence of the rose, I do in fact describe its beauty and agreeableness. The mind and object are thus united in the sense of agreeableness. I could not have this sense of agreeableness without an object; but when the object is presented to my mind, they are so made for each other, that they seem to melt together in the pleasurable emotion. The sense of the most agreeable or choice may be illustrated in the same way. The only difference between the agreeable simply and the most agreeable is this: the agreeable refers merely to an emotion awakened on the immediate presentation of an object, without any comparison or competition. The most agreeable takes place where there is comparison and competition. Thus, to prefer or choose a rose above a violet is a sense of the most agreeable of the two. In some cases, however, that which is refused is positively disagreeable. The choice, in strictness of speech, in these cases, is only a sense of the agreeable. As, however, in every instance of choosing, there are two terms formed by contemplating the act of choosing itself in the contrast of positive and negative, the phrase most agreeable or greatest apparent good is convenient for general use, and sufficiently precise to express every case which comes up. It may be well here to remark, that in the system we are thus endeavouring to state and to illustrate, the word choice is properly used to express the action of will, when that action is viewed in relation to its immediate effects,—as when I say, I choose to walk. The sense of the most agreeable, is properly used to express the same action, when the action is viewed in relation to its own cause. Choice and volition are the words in common use, because men at large only think of choice and volition in reference to effects. But when the cause of choice is sought after by a philosophic mind, and is supposed to lie in the nature and circumstances of mind and object, then the sense of the most agreeable becomes the most appropriate form of expression. Edwards concludes his discussion of the cause of the most agreeable, by remarking: “However, I think so much is certain,—that volition, in no one instance that can be mentioned, is otherwise than the greatest apparent good is, in the manner which has been explained.” This is the great principle of his system; and, a few sentences after, he states it as an axiom, or a generally admitted truth: “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.” Indeed, Edwards cannot be considered as having attempted to prove this; he has only explained it, and therefore it is only the explanation of a supposed axiom that we have been following out. This supposed axiom is really announced in the first section: “Will and desire do not run counter at all: the thing which he wills, the very same he desires;” that is, a man wills as he desires, and of course wills what is most agreeable to him. It is to be noticed, also, that the title of part I. runs as follows: “Wherein are explained and stated various terms and things, &c.” Receiving it, therefore, as a generally admitted truth, “that choice or volition is always as the most agreeable,” and is itself only the sense of the most agreeable, what is the explanation given? 1. That will, or the faculty of choice, is not a faculty distinct from the affections or passions, or that part of our being which philosophers sometimes call the sensitivity. 2. That volition, or choice, or preference, being at any given moment and under any given circumstances the strongest inclination, or the strongest affection and desire with regard to an immediate object, appears in the constitution of our being as the antecedent of effects in the mind itself, or in the body; which effects are called voluntary actions,—as acts of attention, or of talking, or walking. 3. To say that volition is as the desire, is equivalent to saying that volition is as the “greatest apparent good,” which again means only the most agreeable,—so that the volition becomes again the sense or feeling of the greatest apparent good. There is in all this only a variety of expressions for the same affection of the sensitivity. 4. Determination of will is actual choice, or the production in the mind of volition, or choice, or the strongest affection, or the sense of the most agreeable, or of the greatest apparent good. It is therefore an effect, and must have a determiner or cause. 5. This determiner or cause is called motive. In explaining what constitutes the motive, we must take into view both mind and object. The object must be perceived by the mind as something existent. This perception, however, is only preliminary, or a mere introduction of the object to the mind. Now, in order that the sense of the most agreeable, or choice, may take place, the mind and object must be suited to each other; they must be correlatives. The object must possess qualities of beauty and agreeableness to the mind. The mind must possess a susceptibility agreeable to the qualities of the object. But to say that the object possesses qualities of beauty and agreeableness to the mind, is in fact to affirm that the mind has the requisite susceptibility; for these qualities of the object have a being, and are what they are only in relation to mind. Choice, or the sense of agreeableness, may therefore be called the unition of the sensitivity and the object. Choice is thus, like any emotion or passion, a fact perpetually appearing in the consciousness; and, like emotion or passion; and, indeed, being a mere form of emotion and passion, must ultimately be accounted for by referring it to the constitution of our being. But inasmuch as the constitution of our being manifests itself in relation to objects and circumstances, we do commonly account for its manifestations by referring them to the objects and circumstances in connexion with which they take place, and without which they would not take place; and thus, as we say, the cause of passion is the object of passion: so we say also, in common parlance, the cause of choice is the object of choice; and assigning the affections of the mind springing up in the presence of the object, to the object, as descriptive of its qualities, we say that choice is always as the most beautiful and agreeable; that is, as the greatest apparent good. This greatest apparent good, thus objectively described, is the motive, or determiner, or cause of volition. In what sense the Will follows the last dictate of the Understanding. “It appears from these things, that in some sense the will always follows the last dictate of the understanding. But then the understanding must be taken in a large sense, as including the whole faculty of perception or apprehension, and not merely what is called reason or judgement. If by the dictate of the understanding is 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 follows 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 relates to the mind’s present perceptions in any respect.” (p. 25.) The “large sense” in which Edwards takes the understanding, embraces the whole intellectual and sensitive being. In the production of choice, or the sense of the most agreeable, the suggestions of reason may have their influence, and may work in with other particulars to bring about the result; but then they are subject to the same condition with the other particulars,—they must appear, at the moment and in the immediate circumstances, the most agreeable. It is not enough that they come from reason, and are true and right; they must likewise suit the state of the mind,—for as choice is the sense of the most agreeable, that only as an object can tend to awaken this sense, which is properly and agreeably related to the feelings of the subject. Where the suggestions of reason are not agreeably related, “the act of the will is determined in opposition to it.” (ibid.) “Sec. III.—Concerning the meaning of the terms Necessity, Impossibility, Inability, &c. and of Contingence.” After having settled his definition of choice or volition, and explained the cause of the same, Edwards takes up the nature of the connexion between this cause and effect: viz. motive and volition. Is this connexion a necessary connexion? In order to determine this point, and to explain his view of it, he proceeds to discuss the meaning of the terms contained in the above title. This section is entirely occupied with this preliminary discussion. Edwards makes two kinds of necessity: 1. Necessity as understood in the common or vulgar use; 2. Necessity as understood in the philosophical or metaphysical use. 1. In common use, necessity “is a relative term, and relates to some supposed opposition made to the existence of a thing, which opposition is overcome or proves insufficient to hinder or alter it. The word impossible is manifestly a relative term, and has reference to supposed power exerted to bring a thing to pass which is insufficient for the effect. The word unable is relative, and has relation to ability, or endeavour, which is insufficient. The word irresistible is relative, and has reference to resistance which is made, or may be made, to some force or power tending to an effect, and is insufficient to withstand the power or hinder the effect. The common notion of necessity and impossibility implies something that frustrates endeavour or desire.” He then distinguishes this necessity into general and particular. “Things are necessary in general, which are or will be, notwithstanding any supposable opposition, from whatever quarter:” e. g. that God will judge the world. “Things are necessary to us which are or will be, notwithstanding all opposition supposable in the case from us.” This is particular necessity: e. g. any event which I cannot hinder. In the discussions “about liberty and moral agency,” the word is used especially in a particular sense, because we are concerned in these discussions as individuals. According to this common use of necessity in the particular sense, “When we speak of any thing necessary to us, it is with relation to some supposable opposition to our wills;” and “a thing is said to be necessary” in this sense “when we cannot help it, do what we will.” So also a thing is said to be impossible to us when we cannot do it, although we make the attempt,—that is, put forth the volition; and irresistible to us, which, when we put forth a volition to hinder it, overcomes the opposition: and we are unable to do a thing “when our supposable desires and endeavours are insufficient,”—are not followed by any effect. In the common or vulgar use of these terms, we are not considering volition in relation to its own cause; but we are considering volition as itself a cause in relation to its own effects: e. g. suppose a question be raised, whether a certain man can raise a certain weight,—if it be affirmed that it is impossible for him to raise it, that he has not the ability to raise it, and that the weight will necessarily keep its position,—no reference whatever is made to the production of a volition or choice to raise it, but solely to the connexion between the volition and the raising of the weight. Now Edwards remarks, that this common use of the term necessity and its cognates being habitual, is likely to enter into and confound our reasonings on subjects where it is inadmissible from the nature of the case. We must therefore be careful to discriminate. (p. 27.) 2. In metaphysical or philosophical use, necessity is not a relative, but an absolute term. In this use necessity applies “in cases wherein no insufficient will is supposed, or can be supposed; but the very nature of the supposed case itself excludes any opposition, will, or endeavour.” (ibid.) Thus it is used “with respect to God’s existence before the creation of the world, when there was no other being.” “Metaphysical or philosophical necessity is nothing different from certainty,—not the certainty of knowledge, but the certainty of things in themselves, which is the foundation of the certainty of knowledge, or that wherein lies the ground of the infallibility of the proposition which affirms them. Philosophical necessity is really nothing else than the full and fixed connexion between the things signified by the subject and predicate of a proposition which affirms something to be true; and in this sense I use the word necessity, in the following discourse, when I endeavour to prove that necessity is not inconsistent with liberty.” (p. 27, 28, 29.) “The subject and predicate of a proposition which affirms the existence of something, may have a full, fixed, and certain connexion, in several ways.” “1. They, may have a full and perfect connexion in and of themselves. So God’s infinity and other attributes are necessary. So it is necessary, in its own nature, that two and two should be four.” 2. The subject and predicate of a proposition, affirming the existence of something which is already come to pass, are fixed and certain. 3. The subject and predicate of a proposition may be fixed and certain consequentially,—and so the existence of the things affirmed may be “consequentially necessary.” “Things which are perfectly connected with the things that are necessary, are necessary themselves, by a necessity of consequence.” This is logical necessity. “And here it may be observed, that all things which are future, or which will hereafter begin to be, which can be said to be necessary, are necessary only in this last way,”—that is, “by a connexion with something that is necessary in its own nature, or something that already is or has been. This is the necessity which especially belongs to controversies about acts of the will.” (p. 30.) Philosophical necessity is general and particular. 1. “The existence of a thing may be said to be necessary with a general necessity, when all things considered there is a foundation for the certainty of its existence.” This is unconditional necessity in the strictest sense. 2. Particular necessity refers to “things that happen to particular persons, in the existence of which, no will of theirs has any concern, at least at that time; which, whether they are necessary or not with regard to things in general, yet are necessary to them, and with regard to any volition of theirs at that time, as they prevent all acts of the will about the affair.” (p. 31.) This particular necessity is absolute to the individual, because his will has nothing to do with it—whether it be absolute or not in the general sense, does not affect his case. “What has been said to show the meaning of terms necessary and necessity, may be sufficient for the explaining of the opposite terms impossible and impossibility. For there is no difference, but only the latter are negative and the former positive.” (ibid.) Inability and Unable. “It has been observed that these terms in their original and common use, have relation to will and endeavour, as supposable in the case.” That is have relation to the connexion of volition with effects. “But as these terms are often used by philosophers and divines, especially writers on controversies about free will, they are used in a quite different and far more extensive sense, and are applied to many cases wherein no will or endeavour for the bringing of the thing to pass is or can be supposed:” e. g. The connexion between volitions and their causes or motives. Contingent and Contingency. “Any thing is said to be contingent, or to come to pass by chance or accident, in the original meaning of such words, when its connexion with its causes or antecedents, according to the established course of things, is not discerned; and so is what we have no means of foreseeing. But the word, contingent, is abundantly used in a very different sense; not for that, whose connexion with the series of things we cannot discern so as to foresee the event, but for something which has absolutely no previous ground or reason, with which its existence has any fixed connexion.” (p. 31. 32.) Contingency and chance Edwards uses as equivalent terms. In common use, contingency and chance are relative to our knowledge—implying that we discern no cause. In another use,—the use of a certain philosophical school,—he affirms that contingency is used to express absolutely no cause; or, that some events are represented as existing without any cause or ground of their existence. This will be examined in its proper place. I am now only stating Edwards’s opinions, not discussing them. Sec. IV. Of the Distinction of natural and moral Necessary and Inability. We now return to the question:—Is the connexion between motive and volition necessary? The term necessary, in its common or vulgar use, does not relate to this question, for in that use as we have seen, it refers to the connexion between volition considered as a cause, and its effects. In this question, we are considering volition as an effect in relation to its cause or the motive. If the connexion then of motive and volition be necessary, it must be necessary in the philosophical or metaphysical sense of the term. Now this philosophical necessity Edwards does hold to characterize the connexion of motive and volition. This section opens with the following distinction of philosophical necessity: “That necessity which has been explained, consisting in an infallible connexion of the things signified by the subject and predicate of a proposition, as intelligent beings are the subjects of it, is distinguished into moral and natural necessity.” He then appropriates moral philosophical necessity to express the nature of the connexion between motive and volition: “And sometimes by moral necessity is meant that necessity of connexion and consequence which arises from moral causes, as the strength of inclination, or motives, and the connexion 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.” (p. 32.) Natural philosophical necessity as distinguished from this, he employs to characterize the connexion between natural causes and phenomena of our being, as the connexion of external objects with our various sensations, and the connexion between truth and our assent or belief. (p. 33.) In employing the term moral, however, he does not intend to intimate that it affects at all the absoluteness of the necessity which it distinguishes; on the contrary, he affirms 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 necessary effect is with its natural cause. It must be allowed that there may be such a thing as a sure and perfect connexion between moral causes and effects; so this only (i. e. the sure and perfect connexion,) is what I call by the name of moral necessity.” (p. 33.) Nor does he intend “that when a moral habit or motive is so strong that the act of the will infallibly follows, this is not owing to the nature of things!” But these terms, moral and natural, are convenient to express a difference which really exists; a difference, however, which “does not lie so much in the nature of the connexion as in the two terms connected.” Indeed, he soon after admits “that choice in many cases arises from nature, as truly as other events.” His sentiment is plainly this choice lies in the great system and chain of nature as truly as any other phenomenon, arising from its antecedent and having its consequents or effects: but we have appropriated nature to express the chain of causes and effects, which lie without us, and which are most obvious to us; and choice being, “as it were, a new principle of motion and action,” lying within us, and often interrupting or altering the external course of nature, seems to demand a peculiar designation. (p. 34.) Edwards closes his remarks on moral necessity by justifying his reduction of motive and volition under philosophical necessity. “It must be observed, that in what has been explained, as signified by the name of moral necessity, the word necessity is not used according to the original design and meaning of the word; for, as was observed before, such terms, necessary, impossible, irresistible, &c. in common speech, and their most proper sense, are always relative, having reference to some supposable voluntary opposition or endeavour, that is insufficient. But no such opposition, or contrary will and endeavour, is supposable in the case of moral necessity; which is a certainty of the inclination and will itself; which 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 opposite 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.” (p. 35.) This passage is clear and full. Common necessity, or necessity in the original use of the word, refers to the connexion between volition and its effects; for here an opposition to will is supposable. I may choose or will to raise a weight; but the gravity opposed to my endeavour overcomes it, and I find it impossible for me to raise it, and the weight necessarily remains in its place. In this common use of these terms, the impossibility and the necessity are relative to my volition; but in the production of choice itself, or volition, or the sense of the most agreeable, there is no reference to voluntary endeavour. Choice is not the cause of itself: it cannot be conceived of as struggling with itself in its own production. The cause of volition does not lie within the sphere of volition itself; if any opposition, therefore, were made to the production of a volition, it could not be made by a volition. The mind, with given susceptibilities and habits, is supposed to be placed within the influence of objects and their circumstances, and the choice takes place in the correlation of the two, as the sense of the most agreeable. Now choice cannot exist before its cause, and so there can be no choice in the act of its causation. It comes into existence, therefore, by no necessity relating to voluntary endeavour; it comes into existence by a philosophical and absolute necessity of cause and effect. It is necessary as the falling of a stone which is thrown into the air; as the freezing or boiling of water at given temperatures; as sensations of sight, sound, smell, taste, and feeling, when the organs of sense and the objects of sense are brought together. The application of the epithet moral to the necessity of volition, evidently does not alter in the least the character of that necessity. It is still philosophical and absolute necessity, and as sure and perfect as natural necessity. This we have seen he expressly admits, (p. 33;) affirming, (p. 34,) that the difference between a moral and natural necessity is a mere difference in the “two terms connected,” and not a difference “in the nature of the connexion.” Natural and moral inability. “What has been said of natural and moral necessity, may serve to explain what is intended by natural and moral inability. We are said to be naturally unable to do a thing, when we cannot do it if we will, because what is most commonly called nature does not allow of it, or because of some impeding defect or obstacle that is extrinsic to the will; either in the faculty of the understanding, constitution of body, or external objects.” (p. 35.) We may make a voluntary endeavour to know something, and may find ourselves unable, through a defect of the understanding. We may make a voluntary effort to do something by the instrumentality of our hand, and may find ourselves unable through a defect of the bodily constitution; or external objects may be regarded as presenting such a counter force as to overcome the force we exert. This is natural inability; this is all we mean by it. It must be remarked too, that this is inability not metaphysically or philosophically considered, and therefore not absolute inability; but only inability in the common and vulgar acceptation of the term—a relative inability, relative to volition or choice—an inability to do, although we will to do. What is moral inability? “Moral inability consists not in any of these things; but either in the want of inclination, or the strength of a contrary inclination, or the want of sufficient motives in view, to induce and excite the act of will, or the strength of apparent motives to the contrary. Or both these may be resolved into one; and it may be said, in one word, that moral inability consists in the opposition or want of inclination. For when a person is unable to will or choose such a thing, through a defect of motives, or prevalence of contrary motives, it is the same thing as his being unable through the want of an inclination, or the prevalence of a contrary inclination, in such circumstances and under the influence of such views.” (bid.) The inability in this case does not relate to the connexion between volition and its consequents and effects; but to the production of the volition itself. Now the inability to the production of a volition, cannot be affirmed of the volition, because it is not yet supposed to exist, and as an effect cannot be conceived of as producing itself. The inability, therefore, must belong to the causes of volition, or to the motive. But motive, as we have seen, lies in the state of the mind, and in the nature and circumstances of the object; and choice or volition exists when, in the correlation of mind and object, the sense of the most agreeable is produced. Now what reason can exist, in any given case, why the volition or sense of the most agreeable is not produced? Why simply this, that there is not such a correlation of mind and object as to produce this sense or choice. But wherein lies the deficiency? We may say generally, that it lies in both mind and object—that they are not suited to each other. The mind is not in a state to be agreeably impressed by the object, and the object does not possess qualities of beauty and agreeableness to the mind. On the part of the mind, there is either a want of inclination to the object, or a stronger inclination towards another object: on the part of the object, there is a want of interesting and agreeable qualities to the particular state of mind in question, or a suitableness to a different state of mind: and this constitutes “the want of sufficient motives in view, to induce and excite the act of will, or the strength of apparent motives to the contrary.” And both these may clearly be resolved into one, that above mentioned, viz, a want of inclination on the part of the mind to the object, and a stronger inclination towards another object; or, as Edwards expresses it, “the opposition or want of inclination.” For a want of inclination to one object, implying a stronger inclination to another object, expresses that the state of the mind, and the nature and circumstances of the one object, are not correlated; but that the state of mind, and the nature and circumstances of the other object, are correlated. The first, is a “want of sufficient motives;” the second, stronger “motives to the contrary.” Moral inability lies entirely out of the sphere of volition; volition, therefore, cannot produce or relieve it, for this would suppose an effect to modify its cause, and that too before the effect itself has any existence. Moral inability is a metaphysical inability: it is the perfect and fixed impossibility of certain laws and principles of being, leading to certain volitions; and is contrasted with physical inability, which is the established impossibility of a certain volition, producing a certain effect. So we may say, that moral ability is the certain and fixed connexion between certain laws and principles of being, and volitions; and is contrasted with natural ability, which is the established connexion between certain volitions and certain effects. Moral inability, although transcending the sphere of volition, is a real inability. Where it exists, there is the absolute impossibility of a given volition,—and of course an absolute impossibility of certain effects coming to pass by that volition. The impossibility of water freezing above an established temperature, or of boiling below an established temperature, is no more fixed than the impossibility of effects coming to pass by a volition, when there is a moral inability of the volition. The difference between the two cases does not lie “in the nature of the connexion,” but “in the two terms connected.” Edwards gives several instances in illustration of moral inability. “A woman of great honour and chastity may have a moral inability to prostitute herself to her slave.” (ibid.) There is no correlation between the state of her mind and the act which forms the object contemplated,—of course the sense of the most agreeable or choice cannot take place; and while the state of her mind remains the same, and the act and its circumstances remain the same, there is, on the principle of Edwards, an utter inability to the choice, and of course to the consequents of the choice. “A child of great love and duty to his parents, may be thus unable to kill his father.” (ibid.) This case is similar to the preceding. “A very lascivious man, in case of certain opportunities and temptations, and in the absence of such and such restraints, may be unable to forbear gratifying his lust.” There is here a correlation between the state of mind and the object, in its nature and circumstances,—and of course the sense of the most agreeable or choice takes place. There is a moral ability to the choice, and a moral inability to forbear, or to choose the opposite. “A drunkard, under such and such circumstances, may be unable to forbear taking strong drink.” (ibid.) This is similar to the last. “A very malicious man may be unable to exert benevolent acts to an enemy, or to desire his prosperity; yea, some may be so under the power of a vile disposition, that they may be unable to love those who are most worthy of their esteem and affection.” (ibid.) The state of mind is such,—that is, the disposition or sensitivity, as not to be at all correlated to the great duty of loving one’s neighbour as one’s self,—or to any moral excellency in another: of course the sense of the most agreeable is not produced; and in this state of mind it is absolutely impossible that it should be produced. “A strong habit of virtue, a great esteem of holiness, may cause a moral inability to love wickedness in general.” (p. 36.) “On the other hand, a great degree of habitual wickedness may lay a man under an inability to love and choose holiness, and render him utterly unable to love an infinitely Holy Being, or to choose and cleave to him as the chief good.” (ibid.) The love and choice of holiness is necessarily produced by the correlation of the mind with holiness; and the love and choice of holiness is utterly impossible when this correlation does not exist. Where a moral inability to evil exists, nothing can be more sure and fixed than this inability. The individual who is the subject of it has absolutely no power to alter it. If he were to proceed to alter it, he would have to put forth a volition to this effect; but this would be an evil volition, and by supposition the individual has no ability to evil volitions. Where a moral inability to good exists, nothing can be more sure and fixed than this inability. The individual who is the subject of it, has absolutely no power to alter it. If he were to proceed to alter it, he would have to put forth a volition to this effect; but this would be a good volition, and by supposition the individual has no ability to good volitions. General and habitual, particular and occasional Inability. The first consists “in a fixed and habitual inclination, or an habitual and stated defect or want of a certain kind of inclination.” (p. 36.) The second is “an inability of the will or heart to a particular act, through the strength or defect of present motives, or of inducements presented to the view of the understanding, on this occasion.” (ibid.) An habitual drunkard, and a man habitually sober, on some particular occasion getting drunk, are instances of general and particular inability. In the first instance, the state of the man’s mind has become correlated to the object; under all times and circumstances it is fixed. In the second instance, the state of the man’s mind is correlated to the object only when presented on certain occasions and under certain circumstances. In both instances, however, the choice is necessary,—“it not being possible, in any case, that the will should at present go against the motive which has now, all things considered, the greatest advantage to induce it.” “Will and endeavour against, or diverse from present acts of the will, are in no case supposable, whether those acts be occasional or habitual; for that would be to suppose the will at present to be otherwise than at present it is.” (ibid.) The passage which follows deserves particular attention. It may be brought up under the following question: Although will cannot be exerted against present acts of the will, yet can present acts of the will be exerted to produce future acts of the will, opposed to present habitual or present occasional acts? “But yet there may be will and endeavour against future acts of the will, or volitions that are likely to take place, as viewed at a distance. It is no contradiction, to suppose that the acts of the will at one time may be against the act of the will at another time; and there may be desires and endeavours to prevent or excite future acts of the will; but such desires and endeavours are in many cases rendered insufficient and vain through fixedness of habit: when the occasion returns, the strength of habit overcomes and baffles all such opposition.” (p. 37.) Let us take the instance of the drunkard. The choice or volition to drink is the fixed correlation of his disposition and the strong drink. But we may suppose that his disposition can be affected by other objects likewise: as the consideration of the interest and happiness of his wife and children, and his own respectability and final happiness. When his cups are removed, and he has an occasional fit of satiety and loathing, these considerations may awaken at the time the sense of the most agreeable, and lead him to avoid the occasions of drunkenness, and to form resolutions of amendment; but when the appetite and longing for drink returns, and he comes again in the way of indulgence, then these considerations, brought fairly into collision with his habits, are overcome, and drinking, as the most agreeable, asserts its supremacy. “But it may be comparatively easy to make an alteration with respect to such future acts as are only occasional and transient; because the occasional or transient cause, if foreseen, may often easily be prevented or avoided.” (ibid.) In the case of occasional drunkenness, for instance, the habitual correlation is not of mind and strong drink, but of mind and considerations of honour, prudence, and virtue. But strong drink being associated on some occasion with objects which are correlated to the mind, as hospitality, friendship, or festive celebrations,—may obtain the mastery; and in this case, the individual being under no temptation from strong drink in itself considered, and being really affected with the sense of the most agreeable in relation to objects which are opposed to drunkenness, may take care that strong drink shall not come again into circumstances to give it an adventitious advantage. The repetition of occasional drunkenness would of course by and by produce a change in the sensitivity, and establish an habitual liking for drink. “On this account, the moral inability that attends fixed habits, especially obtains the name of inability. And then, as the will may remotely and indirectly resist itself, and do it in vain, in the case of strong habits; so reason may resist present acts of the will, and its resistance be insufficient: and this is more commonly the case, also, when the acts arise from strong habit.” (ibid.) |
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