EH Bonk ■ LU 18 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from The Library of Congress http://www.archive.org/details/philosophicalpraOOupha 1 PHILOSOPHICAL PRACTICAL TREATISE ILL. BY THOMAS C. UPHAM, PROFESSOR OF MENTAL AND MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN BOWDOIN COLLEGE. PORTLAND, PUBLISHED BY WILLIAM HYDE, FOR Z. HYDE. 1834. Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1S34, by Thomas C. Upham, A. M. ; u the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Maine. tirc-vr Thfeol. Stan, IN E l •AN 24 1808 JOSEPH GRIFFIN, PRINTER, BRUNSWICK, ME. PREFACE. In offering to the public the following Treatise on the Will, I am obliged to presume', in no small degree, on its forbear- ance and candour. It is a subject, which, in some of its ap- plications, has been so long connected with Theological con- troversies, that it is almost impossible to write upon it, without exciting the suspicion, that the discussion will assume a party character. I hope the reader will do me the justice in the out- set to believe, that my object is not a party one, and that the ascertainment of truth is my only aim. If he will take the trouble carefully to read the Treatise through, as I hope he will before pronouncing an opinion upon it, I anticipate the pleasure of standing fair in his estimation, as a candid inquir- er after the truth, whether I have been successful in my efforts or not. I presume the reader, and the public generally, will agree with me in the admission, that the subject of the Will is one of great importance, both theoretically and practically. And yet there can be no hesitation in saying, that it has never re- ceived that attention from mental philosophers, which is due to it. In those various Schools of philosophy, which from time to time sprung up among the ancient Greeks and Romans, it IV PREFACE. seems almost wholly to have escaped notice ; their specula- tions, so far as they related to the nature of the mind, being principally taken up with inquiries into the origin of knowledge and the nature of virtue. From the earlier English writers on the mind, Hobbes, Cudworth, Butler, Baxter, and others, al- though it was not wholly passed by, it received no attention worthy of particular notice at the present time, and in the pres- ent advanced state of mental science. Mr. Locke, however, who has treated of this subject incidentally in his chapter on Pow- er, entered upon its investigation with his accustomed ability; and, as his views were given in the later editions of his Essay on the Human Understanding, they were greatly in advance of any thing, that had been written before. There are also some valuable remarks on the Will in Dr. Reid's writings; but he takes, on the whole, but a limited view of it. Mr. Stewart throws his observations, which are not numei-ous and which consist rather of criticisms on the opinions of others, than of a decided and systematic expression of his own, into an Ap- pendix. The learned and able Inquiry into the Will of President Edwards does not profess to go over the whole ground, and to exhaust the whole subject; but on the contrary, as appears from the very title page, is limited to a particular aspect or view of it, viz, that Freedom of the Will, which is supposed to be essential to moral agency, virtue and vice, reward and pun- ishment, praise and blame. But I would not be understood to make these remarks in the way of complaint. It could hardly be expected to be oth- erwise. An examination into the will naturally comes last in order in all inquiries into the mind. The questions relative to the origin of knowledge and the intellectual part of our consti- tution come first in order; and these are questions, which are not settled without much care and labour. The natural order of inquiry then brings us to the Sensibilities or sentient states PREFACE. v of the mind, in distinction from the intellectual, viz, the various forms of emotion and desire and feelings of moral obligation. These must be examined and understood also, as well as the intellectual part. Until mental philosophy is in some degree satisfactorily established in these great departments, the doc- trine of the will, although it maybe a matter of conjecture, cannot be fully and correctly ascertained. But this period has arrived ; and there is no longer any excuse for permitting this important inquiry to remain neglected. The subject is one of wide extent, perhaps more so than has sometimes been imagin- ed; and one too, which admits of various and important practi- cal applications. My examination of it may be imperfect, (and in truth, considering the variety of topics embraced in it, cannot well be otherwise,) and yet I cannot but indulge the hope, that some obscurities have been cleared up, that some leading principles have been established, and that the subject is placed in various respects in a satisfactory light. But of this the candid reader, who will take the trouble to ex- amine with suitable care what has been written, will be able to form a more accurate judgment for himself. THOMAS C. UPHAM. Bowdoin College, May, 1834. CONTENTS. PART FIRST. GENERAL NATURE OF THE WILL. Chap. I. — classification of the MENTAL POWERS. SECT. Of the method of inquiry proper to be pursued 1 The will should be examined in connection with other parts of the mind 2 The states of the mind may be re- garded in a threefold view 3 Evidence of the general arrange- ment from consciousness 4 Evidence of the same from terms found in different languages 5 Evidence from incidental remarks in writers 6 Consciousness alone not sufficient to give a full knowledge of the mind 7 Further proof from various writers on the mind 8 Of the consideration due to the opinions of able and professed inquirers into the mind 9 A knowledge of the will implies a preliminary knowledge of the intellect 10 Implies a preliminary knowledge also of the sensibilities 11 II. RELATION OF THE INTEL- LECT TO THE WILL. A connection existing among all the parts and powers of the mind 12 The intellectual part the founda- dation or basis of the others 13 The connection of the understand- ing with the will shown from its connection with action 14 Further proof from an observation of the conduct of men 15 Of the nature of the connection be- tween the understanding and will 16 Of the opinions of Mr. Locke on this point 17 Opinions of Sir James Mackintosh on the same subject 18 The understanding reaches the will through the sensibilities 19 The acts of the intellect the direct antecedents to emotions 20 Emotions change with changes of the intellectual perceptions 21 The powers of the will not per- fectly correspondent to those of the intellect 22 An energetic will sometimes found . in connection with limited pow- ers of intellect 23 / I CONTENTS. III. — RELATION OF THE SENSIBIL- ITIES TO THE WILL. General statement in explanation of the term sensibilities Of what are strictly included un- der the sensibilities Acts of the intellect in immediate proximity with emotions Emotions not in proximity with volitions Emotions followed by desires and feelings of obligation Further remarks on obligatory feelings Desires and obligatory feelings in contact with the will Opinions of metaphysical writers on the foregoing statements Of the strength of the desires Of the strength of feelings of obli- gation Of the influence of the sensibilities on the understanding 24 25 2G 27 2S 29 30 33 34 IV. VOLITIONS OR VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. The necessity of that controlling power which exists in the will The harmony of the mind secured by the superintendence of the will Remarks on the nature of the will Of the nature of the acts of the will or volitions Volition never exists without some object It exists only in reference to what we believe to be in our power Volition relates to our own action and to whatever else may be dependent upon us Volitions may exist with various degrees of strength Causes of the variation of the strength of the voluntary exer- cise Of preference or indifferency as applicable to the will 33 39 40 41 42 43 44 V. DISTINCTION BETWEEN DE- SIRES AND VOLITION'S. Of an objection sometimes made to the general arrangement 45 Probable cause of desires and vo- litions being confounded 46 The distinction of desires and vo- litions asserted by consciousness 47 Desires differ from volitions in nx- edness and permanency 4S Further proof of this distinction from language 49 Sentiments of esteem and honour often imply this distinction 50 Of some strictures on the foregoing remarks of Reid 51 Volitions may exist in Tespect to those complex acts which the mind can embrace as one 52 If the distinction in question do not exist, the foundation of mor- als becomes unsettled 53 Instances in illustration of the dis- tinction in question. 54 Additional instances in illustration and proof 55 The subject further illustrated by the voluntary death of the Sag- untines 56 Of the chastisements of the Su- preme Being inflicted on those he loves 57 Objected that these views lead to contradictions 58 Opinions of Mr. Locke on this subject 5S •PART SECOND. LAWS OF THE WILL. CHAP I. UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. The preceding chapters preparato- ry to what follows Of the importance of the topics now entered upon The inquiry, whether the will has its laws, preliminary to that of 59 60 CONTENTS. its freedom 61 Every thing throughout nature has its laws 62 Reference to remarks of Cicero on the universality of law , 63 Reference to remarks of Hooker on the universality of law 64 The universality of law implied in the belief of a Divine exist- tence 65 A presumption thus furnished in favour of the subjection of the will to law 66 II. LAW OF CAUSALITY. Of certain laws or principles which extend to all classes of objects 67 A belief in the law of causation founded in the peculiar structure of the human mind 68 Of the universality of the law of causation 69 Of the classification into Effective and Preparative causes 70 Opinions of various philosophers on this subject 71 Opinions of President Edwards on this subject 72 Of the results of a denial of this proposition 73 The truth of the proposition under . consideration implied in the fact of a Supreme existence or Deity 74 Application of the views of this chapter to the will 75 III. LAW OF UNIFORMITY. Belief of men in the continued uni- formity of nature's operation's 76 The belief exists in reference to mind as well as matter 77 Circumstances under which this belief arises 78 Of the true idea of chance, in dis- tinction from uniformity 79 Grounds or foundation of this be- lief 80 Reference to the opinions of Reid and Abercrombie 81 Application of these views to the will S2 Of an objection to these views drawn from the conduct of men 83 IV. LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN MORAL GOVERNMENT. Of the existence of a moral gov- ernment 84 Laws of the will deducible from the first principles of moral gov- ernment 85 Laws of the will inferred from that supremacy or paramount authority, which is implied in a moral government 86 Laws of the will inferred from that accountability and depen- dence, which are implied in a moral government 87 Inferred also from the fact, that the subject of a moral govern- ment must be endued with ade- quate powers of obedience 88 Laws of the will inferred from that rationality which is essen- tial to the subjects of a moral government 89 Laws of the will inferred from the fact that in the administration of a moral government motives are employed 90 Inferred also from the application of rewards and punishments 91 The same inferred from the fact, that the moral government of the present life is in its nature disciplinary 92 That the will has laws implied in the existence of virtue and vice 93 V. LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED. IN THE PRESCIENCE OF THE DEITY. The notion which men naturally CONTENTS form of the Deity implies fore- knowledge 94 The prescience of God involved and implied in his omniscience 95 The prescience of God directly taught in the Scriptures 96 The foreknowledge of events im- plies the foreknowledge of vo- litions 97 Of the reasonableness of the fore- going views 98 Application of these views to the will 99 The views of this chapter in har- mony with the doctrine of the influences of the Holy Spirit 100 VI. LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE PRESCIENCE OR FORE- SIGHT OF MEN. Man as well as Deity susceptible of foresight 101 Prescience or foresight of men in respect to their own situation and conduct 102 Foresight of men in respect to the conduct of others 103 Other familiar instances of this foresight 104 Of sagacity in the estimate of in- dividual character ' 105 Foresight of the conduct of mas- ses of men and nations 106 Proof from the regularity obser- vable in the commission of crime 107 VII. LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE SCIENCES RELATING TO HUMAN CONDUCT. Of the object of sciences relating to human conduct 108 Illustration of the subject from Political Philosophy 109 Agreement among writers who in other respects differ 110 Illustration of the subject from 2 History 111 Illustration of the subject from Political Economy 112 Reference to Municipal law 113 Remarks of Beccaria on mildness of punishments 114 Reference to the science of Edu- cation 115 Illustration of the subject from Oratory 116 Laws of the will implied in Christian Ethics 117 Similar views applicable in other sciences 118 VIII. OTHER PROOFS OF LAWS OF THE WILL. The subjection of the will to law confirmed by consciousness 119 Confirmed by the fact of the will's not being a subject but an attribute 120 The same confirmed by the na- ture of volition 121 The analog)' of the other parts of the mind furnishes a pre- sumption that the will is sub- ject to law 122 Proof from the facts developed in history 123 Proof from instances of predomi- nant passion 124 The subjection of the will to law evinced by cases of casual as- sociation 125 Instances illustrative of the prece- ding section 126 Remarks in conclusion of the ar- gument 127 IX. NATURE AND KINDS OF MO- TIVES. Connection of this subject with the consideration of motives 128 Of the divisions of motives into Internal and External 128> External motives derive their efS.- CONTENTS cacy from the mind The character of motives de- pends in part on the constitu- tional traits of the individual Their character depends in part on temporary influences Further division of motives into Personal and Moral On the use of the phrase person- al motives The appetites, propensities, and affections not in themselves of a moral nature Motives coextensive with voli- tions Nature of the influence of motives Of the will's being governed by the strongest motive Of the elements of the contest within 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 PART THIRD. FREEDOM OF THE WILL. Chap. I. — nature of mental FREEDOM. Of bodily in distinction from mental freedom 140 Of unsuccessful attempts to ex- plain the nature of freedom 141 Freedom the name of a simple abstract idea 142 Occasions of the origin of the abstract idea of liberty 143 Of the undefinableness of the term freedom 144 Supposed definitions of freedom mere synonyms 145 Distinction between the idea and reality of liberty 146 Of the source of our knowledge of liberty itself in distinction from the abstract idea of liberty 147 Of the precise import of the phrase moral liberty 14S II. MENTAL HARMONY THE BA- SIS OR OCCASION OF MENTAL FREEDOM. Statement of the inquiry in this chapter Occasions on which liberty exists Of the circumstances under which this mental harmony may be expected to exist Opinions of Bishop Butler on conscience Reference to the opinions of Dr. Price on this subject Objected that perfect harmony of the mind is not realized here Perfection of mental harmony and consequent mental liberty illustrated from the character of the Savior Objected that the foregoing views are necessarily and in then- very terms inconsistent with liberty 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 III. FREEDOM OF THE WILL. Remarks on the nature of the freedom of the will 157 Of the relation of the freedom of the will to the fact of its sub- jection to law 158 Circumstances or occasions un- der which freedom of the will exists 159 Evidence of the freedom of will from consciousness 160 Of an objection to the argument from consciousness 161 Evidence of the will's freedom from the nature of motives 162 Objected that the will is necessa- rily governed by the strongest motive 163 IV. FREEDOM OF THE WILL IM- PLIED IN MAN'S MORAL NATURE. Remarks on the nature or mode of the argument 164 CONTENTS. Of the elements of man's moral nature 165 Evidence of freedom of the will from feelings of approval and disapproval 166 Proof of freedom from feelings of remorse 167 Without the possession of liber- ty of will man could never have framed the abstract no- tions of right and wrong 168 Proof from feelings of moral ob- ligation 169 Evidence from men's views of crimes and punishments 170 Prevalent opinions of mankind on this subject 171 V, -OTHER PROOFS OF FREEDOM OF THE WILL. Evidence of the freedom of the will from languages 172 Evidence from the occasional suspension of the will's acts 173 Evidence of the freedom of the will from the control which every man has over his own motives of action 174 The freedom of the will further shown from the attempts of men to influence the conduct of their fellow-men 175 Further evidence from the obser- vation of men's conduct 176 Argued further from the view ta- ken in the Scriptures 177 Practical importance of the doc- trine of liberty 178 VI. CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM. Objected that the views maintain- ed are contradictory Answered that they result neces- sarily from the evidence Denial of the alledged contradic- tion Admission of inexplicableness or 179 180 181 mystery 182 Of the limited powers of the hu- man mind 183 We find things which cannot be explained every where 184 Illustrated from the influence of one man over another 185 The opposite supposition attend- ed with equal difficulty 186 Both views are to be fully recei- ved 187 The doctrine of the will's free- dom equally important with that of its subjection to law 188 VII. ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVE- RY OF THE WILL. Of the occasions of mental en- thralment 189 Inability to define enthralment or slavery 190 The nature of mental enthral- ment illustrated by a reference to extorted promises 191 Illustration of the same subject from cases of torture 192 Historical illustrations of the sub- ject 193 The will enthralled by the indul- gence of the appetites 194 Enthralment of the will occasion- ed by predominant and over- ruling propensities 195 The will enthralled by inordi- nate ambition 196 The will enslaved by the indul- gence of the passions 197 Inordinate intensity of the domes- tic affections 198 Of the slavery of the will in con- nection with moral accounta- bility 199 VIII. ALIENATION OR INSANITY OF THE WILL. Insanity predicable of all the powers of the mind 200 Of alienation or insanity of the CONTENTS. will 201 Another instance of this species of insanity 202 Of insanity of the will in con- nection with cases of casual association 203 Of alienation of the will as con- nected with a disordered state or alienation of belief 204 Alienation of the will in connec- tion with melancholy 205 Of alienation of the will termed INCONSTANTIA 206 Of accountability iu connection with alienation or insanity of the will 207 PART FOURTH. POWER OF THE WILL. Chap. I. — nature of mental power. Of the distinction between liber- ty and power 208 Proof of the distinction between liberty and power 209 The distinction of power and lib- erty involved in the fact of our being able to form the ab- stract ideas of power and lib- erty 210 Distinction of power and liberty shown from language 211 Further shown from the fact of our possessing a moral nature 212 Origin of the idea of power hi Original Suggestion 213 Occasions of the origin of the idea of power 214 The idea of power involves the reality of power 215 Things exist which are not made known by the senses 216 Of power as an attribute of the iiuman mind 217 Further shown by a reference to the Divine Mind 21S II. — power of the will. Proof of power in the will from the analogy of the mind 219 The power of the will restricted and subordinate 220 Proof of power in the will from internal experience 221 Proved from the ability which we have to direct our attention to particular subjects 222 Proof of power in the will from observation 223 Of power of the will as exhibit- ed in patience under suffering 224 Illustration of the subject from the command of temper 225 Further illustrations of this sub- subject 226 Proved from the concealment of the passions on sudden and trying occasions 227 Further instances of concealment and repression of the passions 228 Illustrated from the prosecution of some general plan 229 The subject illustrated from the course of the first settlers of New England 230 Illustrated by the fortitude ex- hibited by Savages 231 III. — self-determining power OF THE WILL. General remarks on a self-deter- mining power 232 Of a self-determining power of the mind 233 Of a self-determining power of the will 234 Of such a self-determining pow- er of the will as involves the dependence of the present vo- lition on a former one 235 Opinions of President Edwards on this subject 236 CONTENTS. IV. — DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTA- RY POWER. Differences in voluntary power seldom noticed 237 Remarks on constitutional weak- ness of the will 238 Of comparative or relative weak- ness of the will 239 Instances of want of energy of the will 240 Remarks on great strength of the will 241 Energy of the will as displayed under bodily suffering 242 Energy of the will as shown in imminent danger 243 Energy of the will as shown in martyrdoms 244 Subject illustrated from two clas- ses of public speakers 245 Power of the will requisite in the military and other arts 246 Energy of the will requisite in the men of revolutions 247 Practical application of these views 248 V. — CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. Connection of the philosophy of the "will with consistency of character 249 Illustrations of the inconsistent character 250 Illustrations of the consistent character 251 Of individuals remarkable for consistency of character 252 Of the value of consistency in the religious character 253 Of the foundation of basis of con- sistency and inconsistency of character 254 Of inconsistency of belief in con- nection with inconsistency of conduct and character 255 Self-possession an element of consistency of character 256 Consistency implies persever- ance under changes of circum- stances 257 Consistency implies a control over the passions 258 VI. -DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. Importance .'of a due discipline of the voluntary power 259 A due balance of all the powers the most favourable state of things to the just exercise of the will 260 Of the culture of the appetitites, propensities, and passions as auxiliary to the discipline of the will 261 Some instances and proofs of the foregoing statements 262 Importance of repressing the out- ward signs of the passions 263 Of enlightening the intellect in con- nection with the discipline of the will 264 Further remarks on the same sub- ject 265 Of aiding the will by a reference to the regard of others 266 Of aiding the will by a reference to conscience 267 Of the aids furnished by the prin- ciple of imitation 268 Of aiding the will by placing our- self in circumstances that do not admit of a retreat 269 Of the effects of habit in giving strength to the will 270 Of strengthening the will by reli- gious considerations 271 NOTE (SECTION OMITTED.) The fact of laws of the will shown from the regularity of voluntary contributions and of depositesl05* CHAPTER FIRST. CLASSIFICATION OF THE MENTAL POWERS. §. 1 . Of the method of inquiry proper to be pursued. In entering upon a discussion of the various questions, connected with the Will, it is perhaps proper to remark upon the course, which we deem it expedient to pursue. It will be our desire to rest mainly upon facts, and the obvious de- ductions from them ; and to avoid, as much as possible, mere speculation. The indulgence of speculation is often flatter- ing to pride of intellect, and is perhaps indicative of the con- sciousness of mental power ; but it is not on all subjects, unless controlled and mitigated by a frequent recurrence to facts, favorable to the ascertainment of truth. The inquiries before us, so far at least as the mode of conducting ^ / them is concerned, ought to be prosecuted in essen- tially the same manner as our inquiries into the physical world. What we wish to know are the simple facts that exist, and the general laws which they obviously develope and prove, in distinction from mere conjectures, however ingenious they may be. We apprehend, that this course, if we promise ourselves a favorable issue, is necessary in all 3 „ 18 CLASSIFICATION OF discussions in respect to the mind, to whatever powers they may relate. Especially is this true in respect to the Will, not only on account of the peculiar nature of its operations, but also for another obvious reason. There must be evidently some point in the mental constitution, which connects man with his Maker. Although men have liberty and power in their appropriate sphere of action, they are not in the strict sense of the term independent. All created beings, however great their powers may be, form but so many links in the immense chain of existence, that extends from the throne of God down to the humble forms of life,that approach nearest to inanimate matter. All, therefore, must, in some way, be connected with that great Source of existence,without whose emanations there could be existence no where. And accordingly it is in the voluntary part of our mental constitution that we find the point of union, the position of contact with the Divine Mind ; for the divine mind runs through and connects itself with the whole range of existences, making them all one in subordi- nation. Accordingly in the examination of the Will we must expect to meet with the apparently inconsistent attri- butes of freedom, dependence, and power, existing and uni- ting harmoniously in the same being. It is here of course, that we meet with much to perplex our judgment, to try our faith, and to solicit speculation. How necessary, then, to be on our guard, to proceed with caution, to test our powers of investigation exclusively within the legitimate limits of their action, and to be governed by those sentiments of modesty, which are suitable to fallible beings ! We are aware, that this proposed course is not altogether in accordance with what is termed the spirit of the age, which seems to call constantly for exaggeration ; for what is novel, strange, and unprecedented ; for something that THE MENTAL POWERS. 19 "will arouse and astonish, rather than convince. But this diseased and inordinate appetite for novelty and excitement ought to be rebuked rather than encouraged ; and least of all should it be permitted to find nourishment and support in the calm regions of philosophy. Let us then proceed to this interesting inquiry with those chastened feelings of modera- tion and caution which have been recommended, and relying chiefly upon facts and the legitimate inferences which they furnish, and indulging as little as possible in speculation, be content with what we may be able to establish on a firm foun- dation, without complaining, that our limited and imperfect powers require some things to be left in obscurity. §. 2. The will should be examined in connection with other parts of the mind . It must constantly strike the observer, who carefully contemplates the facts, which the universe every where ex- hibits, that no object which exists is wholly disconnected from other objects. Accordingly in attempting to examine the nature of the Will, and in considering it in the various aspects in which it presents itself to our notice, it is obvious, that we must not regard it as standing alone, and apart from every thing else. It not only participates in the general nature of the mind, but has a close connection and sympathy with all its various modes of action. The general nature of the soul could not be altered, nor greatly affected in any way, with- out at the same time affecting the Will. Nor could a single susceptibility, even one of minor. importance, be either struck out from the list of its powers, or be greatly changed, with- out being attended with the same result. In the' present discussion, therefore, we are naturally and urgently led to take a concise view of the general structure of the- mind, for the purpose of more fully comprehending the relation, which the will sustains to the other parts. 20 CLASSIFICATION OF §. 3. The states of the mind may be regarded in a threefold view. Although we properly ascribe to the human soul the attri- bute of oneness or indivisibility, there is abundant reason for sayiug, that its nature can never be fully understood by contemplating it solely and exclusively under one aspect. There are, accordingly, three prominent and well-defined points of view, in which the mind may be contemplated, viz, the Intellect, the Sensibilities, and the Will 5 otherwise ex- pressed by the phrases, intellectual, sentient, and volun- tary states of the mind. Whatever truly and appropriately belongs to the intellect, has something peculiar and charac- teristic of it, which shuts it out from the domain of the sen- sibilities ; and whatever has the nature of a volition has a position apart both from the intellectual and the sentient. This is a fundamental arrangement, which, when properly and fully carried out and applied, includes the whole soul. To the one or the other of these general heads, every thing, involved in our mental existence, may be referred. In fully exhausting, therefore, these topics, we may justly count up- on having completed the exploration of the mental constitu- tion. When we have done this, nothing more remains to be said. The work is finished. The depths of the mind have been entered ; the heights have been ascended ; the boun- daries have been set up. §. 4. Evidence oj the general arrangement from consciousness. The general arrangement, which has been spoken of, viz, into the intellectual, sentient, and voluntary states of the mind, appears to be susceptible of abundant illustration and proof. It is not our intention, however, to enter into the discussion of its correctness at much length ; but merely to THE MENTAL POWERS. 21 indicate, as briefly as possible, some of the grounds, on which it has been made ; premising at the same time, that the whole of this treatise, while it is based in a good degree on this fundamental division, will be found to furnish incidental evidence throughout of its truth. In proof of the propriety of the general arrangement in question, we may refer, in the first place, to Consciousness. In doing this we are of course obliged to presume, that the reader understands what is meant by the term consciousness ; and that he assents to the truth, so readily and generally ac- knowledged, that we have much of our knowledge of the mind by its aid. Mental philosophers assure us, that we are enabled, by means of consciousness, to ascertain what thought and feeling are in themselves, and to distinguish them from each other. And if we are not willing to depend upon the information thus given us, if we reject its authority in the hopes of finding something more certain,we shall only be involved in greater difficulty ; in the language of Con- dillac on this very subject, "we stray from a point, which we apprehend so clearly, that it can never lead us into er~ row."* But if it be true, that the existence and distinctive character of the mental acts is made known, in a good degree at least, by consciousness, and that we may justly and confi- dently rely on its testimony, we naturally inquire, what does it teach in the present case ? And in answering this question, we may safely appeal to any person's recollections, and ask, whether he has ever been in danger of confounding a mere perception, a mere thought, either with desires and emotions on the one hand, or with volitions on the other ? Does not his consciousness assure him, that the mental states, which we thus distinguish by these different terms, are not identi- cal, that the one class is not the other, that they as actually * Origin of Knowledge, Pt. I, ch, 1? 22 CLASSIFICATION OF differ from each other, as association does from belief, or ira- agination from memory ? — It may be objected, however, that we find ourselves perplexed and at a loss to explain, by any statement in words, the precise difference in this case, whatever that difference may actually be. We readily admit the fact, implied in this objection, but without admitting that it has any weight as proof against the distinction in question. No simple notion or feeling whatever is suscep- tible of a definition, of an explanation by mere words alone. And it .cannot be expected of any thing, whose own nature we cannot explain by words, that we can fully explain, by a mere verbal statement, its difference from other things. It would seem, therefore, that we may rest in this inquiry upon men's consciousness ; not of one merely, but of any and all men. The understanding stands apart from the rest. The will also has its separate and appropriate position. We may at least assert with full confidence, that no one is in danger of confounding volitions with intellections ; that is to say, with the mere notions of the understanding. On this point there is certainly a general agreement. And yet our consciousness, if we will but attend to its intimations with proper care, will probably teach us, that the nature of a voli- tion more nearly approaches that of a purely intellectual act, than it does the distinctive nature of emotions and desires. It is undoubtedly true, that volitions may have aroused and excited antecedents, and may thus be very closely con- nected with the various affections ; but in themselves they are cold and unimpassioned ; they are purely executive or mandatory, and are as obviously free from any actual im- pregnation of appetite, sentiment, or desire, as the most ab- stract and callous exercises of the intellect. THE MENTAL POWERS. 23 §. 5. Evidence of the same from terms found in different languages. We are enabled further to throw some light on this sub- ject from a consideration of the terms, which are found in va- rious languages. Every language is, in^ some important sense, a mirror of the mind. Something may be learnt of the tendency of the mental operations, not only from the form or structure of language in general, but even from the import of particular terms. There can be no hesitation in saving, that every language has its distinct terms, expressive 'of the threefold view of the mind under consideration, and which are constantly used with a distinct and appropriate meaning, and without being interchanged with each other as if they were synonymous. In other words, there are terms in all languages, (meaning those of course which are spoken by nations somewhat advanced in mental culture,) which correspond to the English terms, intellect, sensi- bilities, will. If such terms are generally found in lan- guages, differing from each other in form and in meaning, it is certainly a strong circumstance in proof, that the distinc- tion, which we propose to establish, actually exists. On the supposition of its having no existence, it seems impossible to explain the fact, that men should so universally agree in making it. If on the other hand it does exist, it is reasona- ble to suppose, that it exists for some purpose ; and existing for some purpose, it must of course become known ; and be- ing .known, it is naturally expressed in language, the same as any other object of knowledge. And this is what we find to be the case. So that we may consider the expression to be an evidence of the fact ; the sign, an intimation and evi- dence of the reality of the thing signified. 24 CLASSIFICATION OF §.6. Evidence from incidental remarks in writers. We now pass to other sources of evidence on this subject. No small amount of knowledge, bearing upon the capabilities and the character of the human mind, may be gathered from the incidental remarks of writers of careful observation and good sense. And accordingly if we find remarks expressive of mental distinctions, repeatedly made by such men, when they are not formally and professedly treating of the mind, it furnishes a strong presumption, that such distinctions ac- tually exist. Their testimony is given under circumstan- ces the most favorable to an unbiassed opinion ; and ought' to be received into the vast amount of evidence, drawn from a great variety of sources, which goes to illustrate the true nature of the soul. The popular author of Literary Hours has given in one of his Works an interesting biographical sketch of Sir Richard Steele. After remarking upon the in- consistencies of his life, his excellent resolutions and his feeble performances, his successive seasons of riot and of repentance, he refers the cause of these inconsistencies to the feebleness of the will ; and in doing it, he incidentally, but very clearly, makes the distinction under consideration. "His misfortune, the cause of all his errors, was, not to have clearly seen, where his deficiencies lay ; they were neither of the head, nor of the heart, but of the volition. He pos- sessed the wish, but not the power of volition to carry his purposes into execution."* As we are not at liberty to sup- pose, that so respectable a writer employs words without meaning, he must be regarded as intending to make the distinction, which has been asserted to exist. The reference, just made to the personal history of the distinguished English Essayist, leads us to remark inciden- * Drake's Essays illustrative of the Tatler, Spectator, and Guardian, Vol. 1. p. 50. THE MENTAL POWERS. 25 tally upon biographical narratives in general. Biographers are supposed to study carefully the lives of those persons, of whose characters they give an account ; and if this supposi- tion be as correct as it is reasonable, they may justly be ranked amoug the valuable contributors to a true knowledge of mental history. A knowledge of a man's life and charac- ter of course implies a knowledge of his mind. And the character of any one man, whoever he may be and in what- ever situation he may be placed, of course throws light on the human mind in general. In Dr. Currie's well written Life of Burns, it is asserted, that the force of that remarka- ble poet lay in the powers of his understanding and the sen- sibilities of his heart. And the writer not only thus clearly indicates the distinction between the understanding or in- tellect and the heart ; but in another passage, which un- doubtedly discloses the key to the poet's character and con- duct, he distinguishes both of them from the voluntary pow- ers. The passage referred to is this. "He knew his own failings ; he predicted their consequences ; the melancholy foreboding was not long absent from his mind ; yet his pas- sions carried him down the stream of error, and swept him over the precipice he saw directly in his course. The fatal defect in his character lay in the comjoarative weakness of his volition, which, governing the conduct according to the dic- tates of the understanding, alone entitles it to be denomina- ted rational."* In looking into an Essay on Decision of Character,! (an interesting subject and treated with a vigor of thought and expression suited to its nature,) we find the following pas- sage, confused somewhat by the indulgence of figurative terms, but yet explicit enough for our present purpose. — "A strenuous ivill must accompany the conclusions of thought, * Currie's Life of Burns, Philadelphia Ed. p. 62. t Foster's Essays, II, Letter 3d. 4 26 CLASSIFICATION OF and constantly urge the utmost efforts for their practical ac- complishment. The intellect must be invested, if I may so des- cribe it, with a glowing atmosphere of passion, under the in- fluence of which the cold dictates of reason take fire, and spring into active poivers." A recently published Inquiry concerning the Indications of Insanity, in which are various sketches of personal history and character that illustrate certain traits of the mind, has the following statement — "Delinquents of this description are, perhaps, not unable to distinguish between what. is right and what is wrong ; but their will is not governed by their un- derstanding, and they want the power of restraining them- selves from that which, when committed, they are afraid to reflect upon. Their will remains ; but it springs from de- praved sensations and emotions, or from passions inordinate and unrestrained, and is not under the direction of sound mental faculties, "j" A celebrated writer, in giving directions to his son as to the manner of conducting negociations with foreign ministers, makes use of the following language. — "If you engage his heart, you have a fair chanccfor imposing upon his understand- ing, and determining his u'i/Z."* This writer, as well as many others , employs the more common term heart to express the sensibilities ; and he evidently uses language, as if there were a known and.admitted distinction between the intellec- tual, sentient, and voluntary parts of our nature, since he speaks of the control or regulation of the understanding, as being, in the case under consideration, subsequent to the pos- session of the heart, and the determination of the will as subsequent to both, or at least as not identical with them. tConolly's Inquiries concerning the Indications of Insanity, &.c. Lond. Ed. p. 454. * Chesterfield, Lond. Ed. Vol. Ill, p, 137. THE MENTAL POWERS. 27 §.7. Consciousness alone not sufficient to gipe a full knowl- edge of the mind. Perhaps it is necessary to say something further in jus- tification of this mode of reference. Certain it is, that a reliance on our own consciousness, our own internal reflections alone is not enough. It is true, that all men have within themselves the elements of human nature, but they are not developed in all alike. And although our consciousness deserves preeminently to be consulted, and is always correct as far as it goes, the man, who studies consciousness alone, in other words' who relies exclusively on his own mental history, will necessarily have but an im- perfect knowledge of what really pertains to the mental con- stitution. There have not been wanting eminent philoso- phers, (Malebranche may be adduced as an instance,) who have pursued this course, but did not succeed. Locke on the contrary studied mankind in general, as well as himself; he summoned observation to the aid of consciousness, and with far more satisfactory results. Now if we look carefully at such writers as were refer- red to in the preceding section, what do we find to be the fact ? They give us an account of the insane man, of the literary man, the poet, the man of great decision of charac- ter, the politician, &c ; but in doing it, they are obliged to make the distinction in question ; they are compelled to re- cognize the separation of the understanding from the heart, and of both from the will ; and they could not complete their portraits without it. If they were not permitted to take this course, their sketches would but feebly tesemble the orig- inal ; they would be like those fragments of statuary, which have come down to us from ancient times, beautiful though absurdly mutilated, the head without the trunk, and limbs sundered from the body ; a subject of study and admiration 28 CLASSIFICATION OF in themselves, but suggesting a very imperfect conception of that whole, to whose symmetry and perfection they had once contributed. But these writers do not find human na- ture thus mutilated, and they describe it as they find it. They do not describe it thus, because they are ambitious of novelty or of being reckoned among mental philosophers ; but because they cannot do otherwise, if they would faith- fully record what constantly presses itself on their notice. And hence it is, that their testimony on any question of this nature is of so much importance. §» S. Further proof from various writers on the mind . The distinction in question has been fully recognized by various distinguished writers on the mind. The following passage is to be found in Mr. Locke. "Thus by a due con- sideration, and examining any good proposed, it is in our pow- er to raise our desires in a due proportion to the value of that good, whereby in its turn and place it may come to work upon the %cill, and be pursued. For good, though appearing, and allowed ever so great, yet till it has raised desires in our minds, and thereby made us uneasy in its want, it reaches not our wills."* Here the threefold division in question is distinctly recognized. The due consideration and examin- ing, which are spoken of, imply an act of the intellect ; the desires, which are subsequently raised, are appropriately as- cribed to the sensibilities ; and these last are followed by an act of the other part of our nature, viz, the will. Mr. Hume, in his Dissertation on the Passions, has the following passage, which is clear enough in its import with- out comment. — " It seems evident that reason, in a strict sense, as meaning the judgment of truth and falsehood, can never of itself be any motive to the ivill, and can have no in- * Essay on the Understanding. Bk. II. ch. xxi. §, 46. THE MENTAL POWERS. 29 fluence but so far as it touches some passion or affection." In the Essays on the Principles of Morality and Natural Religion, ascribed to Lord Karnes, is a passage as follows. " He hath appetites and passions, which prompt him to their respective gratifications ; but he is under no necessity of blindly submitting to their impulse. For reason hath a pow- er of restraint. It suggests motives from the cool views of good and evil. He deliberates upon these. In consequence of his deliberation he chooseth ; and here, if any where, lies our liberty." Among writers more recent, who have insisted on this distinction with much earnestness and clearness, we may mention Sir James Mackintosh. In some strictures on Dr. Price's Review of the Principal Questions in Morals, he has occasion to make a remark, the substance of which had been given before and is repeated afterwards, "that no perception or judgment, or other unmixed act of the understanding, mere- ly as such and without the agency of some intermediate emo- tion, can affect the tuiK."* A writer of our own country, who, in the retirement of a country parish and in the faithful discharge of its multiplied duties, has found time to furnish his contributions to a knowl- edge of our mental structure, expresses himself thus* — "Why do not philosophers consider all the operations of the understanding, and the affections, as constituting but one gen- eral class of operations, and as belonging to one faculty ? The reason is, they see no similarity between intellectual perceptions and affections. A perception is not a feeling either of pleasure or pain, nor a desire. And pleasure and pain and desires, they clearly see,are not perceptions. Hence classing them together would be improper, and create con- fusion. It would be confounding things which differ, and. *General View of the Progress of Ethical Philosophy, p. 157. 30 CLASSIFICATION OF destroying all those distinctions, which are necessary to the acquirement of scientific knowledge. For a person has no more than a confused notion^ of things, who does not make distinctions, where there are differences ; or point out the difference between one thing and another. As perceptions and affections generically differ, philosophers have distin- guished them, and formed them into distinct classes ; and so they have admitted the existence of two facul- ties. And for the same reason they admit two, they ought to grant there are three faculties. For when we attend to the affections and to volitions, it is evident there is a generic difference between them. It is evident that pain, pleasure, and desires, are not volitions; and have no similarity to those voluntary exertions, which produce effects on the body, and in other things around us. For these affections do not immediately produce any external effects; they are effects themselves produced by the heart, and are either virtuous or vicious. For it. has been shown, that vice and virtue belong to the heart only, and its opera- tions, or affections. There is, therefore, no more proprie- ty in classing the affections and volitions together, than in making but one class of the affections and perceptions. The affections and volitions so widely differ, that they nat- urally divide themselves into two distinct, general classes."* It would be easy to multiply passages of the same im- port from numerous other inquirers into the mind, if it were thought necessary. The view thus taken by English and American writers is sustained by judicious metaphysi- cians of other countries, of which our limits will permit us to give only a single passage as an instance. The wri- ter, after some remarks on the origin of the desires, hopes, and fears, proceeds as follows. — " Ces affections internes sont ce que nous nommons seniimens. lis different lies sensa- tions, en ce que les sensations ont leur source directement *Burton's Essays on Metaphysics, Ethics, and Theology, p. 92. THE MENTAL POWERS. 31 dans l'exterieur, tandis que les sentimens sont produits en nous seuleinent a l'occasion de l'exterieur, soit qu'il nous affecte actuellement, soit qu'il nous ait precedemment affec- tes. lis resemblent aux sensations, en ce que, comme elles, Us sont indepenclans de noire volonlc, et non susceptibles d'etre produits ou empeches par nous. Qui peut, en eftet, desirer, esperer, craindre a volonte ?"* §.9. Of the consideration due to the opinions of able and professed inquirers into the mind. In connection with the references, which have been made in the foregoing section and the extracts given, there re- mains a remark or two to be offered. It may be objected, that, in inquiries of this nature, we must not rest solely nor chiefly on mere authority ; and that, in respect to the pow- ers and the action of the mind , the testimony of one man is as good as that of another. The feeling of independence, im- plied in this objection, is so common and so much approved at the present day, and is often so misjudged in its applica- tion, that it deserves some notice: That the candid and con- siderate testimony of all men, in any matter where the ele- ments of human nature are concerned, is important, is very true. But that their testimony is, in all cases r of precisely equal value, is an assertion evidently hasty and unfounded. It may be the case, that the testimony of all men is equally good in respect to the more obvious facts ; but when we come to those, which are less so, and when we attempt to classify them and to trace the various relations existing among them, the testimony is the more valuable in propor- tion as it comes from men of greater ability and more tho- rough study of the mental operations. Do we not find such to be the case in the common transactions of life, and even in the matters of the least difficulty ? We prefer the opinion * De La Liberte et de ses Differens Modes, par Augustin-Frangois Thery. 32 CLASSIFICATION OF of a skilful farmer on the qualities and value of a piece of land to that of any other man ; we adopt, in preference to all others, the opinion of one, who has long navigated the ocean, on the construction of a ship the most adapted to the purpo- ses of sailing and conveying merchandize ; and so of every trade and art and calling in life. And if it be thus in mat- ters comparatively so plain and obvious, it is certainly still more necessary in questions relating to our mental struc- ture. We cannot, therefore, bring ourselves to speak light- ly of the authority of those distinguished men, who have devoted themselves to mental and moral inquiries ; nor, while we admit the possibility of their sometimes commit- ting mistakes, withhold the great consideration, which is ob- viously due to their opinions. Nor can we permit ourselves to doubt,that the decisions of such philosophers as Mackintosh, Stewart, Butler, and Locke, in particular, will continue to be very generally quoted as of great account in discussions of this nature, at least till others of intellect as elevated and of feelings as pure, and aided by the precedents they have set, shall arise and occupy the place in the public estima- tion, which they now fill. <§. 10. A knowledge of the will implies a preliminary knowledge of the intellect. Illustrations and proofs might be carried to a much greater extent. But enough probably has been said to explain pre- cisely the views which we entertain on this subject, to inti- mate the various sources of proof, and to shield us from the imputation of asserting what cannot be maintained. Sup- ported by consciousness, the structure of languages, the in- cidental remarks of writers on a multitude of occasions, and by the deliberate opinions of many able metaphysicians, we are justified in going forward in our inquiries, with the dis- tinction in question as its basis. And now we have further to remark, if there be that threefold distinction in the mind THE MENTAL POWERS. 33 which has heen contended for, then each of these prominent parts may he treated of separately; that is to say, the Will may be made a subject of examination in distinction from the Understanding, and both in distinction from the Affec- tions, or more properly from the Sensibilities; which is the more general and appropriate term. Eut in the order of inquiry the understanding naturally comes first, and then the sensibilities, and the will last. And hence we are led to ob- serve, that a thorough knowledge of the will necessarily im- plies a' knowledge of the understanding. We are compelled, therefore, to presume, that the reader is already acquainted with what has sometimes been termed the cognitive part of our nature ; that he knows something of the nature of sensation and perception ; that he has some acquaintance with the power of suggestion, with the judg- ment or relative suggestion, the memory, reasoning, imagin- ation and the like, which are properly included under the general head of the understanding or intellect. We indulge the hope, that this presumption will prove well-founded. Certain it is, that no man is entitled to pronounce with con- fidence on any discussion having relation to the will, with- out possessing the elements and outlines, at least, of such preliminary knowledge. §.11. Implies a preliminary knowledge also oj the sensibilities. It seems proper to observe further, that similar remarks will apply to the sensibilities; To a correct knowledge of the Will, a knowledge of the sentient states of the mind cannot be considered less necessary than of the intellectual. And who, that has given but even a slight attention to mental inquiries, can be supposed ignorant of that interesting part of our nature ? It is there we find the emotions, which invest the various forms of nature with beauty and grandeur. It is 34 CLASSIFICATION &c. there we are to seek for a knowledge of the propensities and passions, which hind men together in society ; the sources at once of their activity, their joy, and their sorrow. And there also we discover the elements of accountability, the feelings that approve and disapprove, the signatures of the law written within, which no one either oheys or violates without the appropriate rew'ard or condemnation. With this preparatory knowledge, we are ready to advance with some hope of a successful issue. The natural course of in- quiry is through the understanding, and the heart or sensi- bilities, upwards to the will. The latter sustains the relation of a higher and more authoritative power ; a point of view in which we shall more fully consider it in some following chapters. Without this, all the rest would he comparatively useless. So that in considering the position it maintains we are naturally reminded of the passage, which Home Tooke has made so celebrated ; " 'Tis the last key-stone, "That makes the arch ; the rest, that there were put, " Are nothing, till that comes to bind and shut. CHAPTER SECOND. RELATION OF THE INTELLECT TO THE WILL. §. 12. A connection existing among all the parts and powers oj the mind. In the preceding Chapter we have insisted on a threefold view of the mind as fundamental ; and we may add here our conviction, that the recognition of this distinction is not only fundamental in respect to a knoAvledge of the mind in general, but is particularly necessary to a full understanding and solution of the subject in hand. But to assert and even to prove the existence of this distinction is not enough. It seems proper to say something furf her in illustration of the precise relation of these prominent departments of the mind to eachother, beginning with the intellect. And as prelim- inary to this, we shall occupy a few moments in considering the connection, which seems to exist among all the various powers of the mind, both those of a more- general and those of a subordinate character. • A very slight observation, it is believed, will suffice to teach us the general fact, that there is some bond of union 36 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT some principle of connection pervadiug every variety of the mental action. And the farther this observation is carried on, the more obvious and indispensable will this connection appear. If, for instance, Ave examine those subordinate powers, which are properly arranged together under the general head of the Intellect, we shall readily find this to be the case. There is no perception without the antecedent sensation ; there is no memory without attention ; no rea- soning without both memory and association; and neither rea- soning nor imagination without the power of perceiving re- lations or relative suggestion. But in all these cases and in others, they stand, if we may be allowed the expression, side by side, ready to -lend each other an assisting hand, and comparatively powerless and fruitless without this mutual aid. And if such be the state of things in the instances, which have been particularized, then analogy would lead us to suppose, that there is a like principle of union running through and connecting together the more general depart- ments of the mind ; and this too is abundantly obvious on even a slight examination, §. 13. The intellectual part the foundation or basis of the others. Of the Understanding in particular, it may be said with some appearance of reason, that we find in it the foundation, the basis of the existence and of the action both of the sen- tient and of the voluntary nature. Let us examine this point, in the first place, in reference to the Sensibilities. When that part of our nature is in action, we find ourselves, according to the circumstances of the case, pleased or displeased • we are filled with admiration or disgust ; Ave love or hate ; Ave approve or disapprove ; and exercise other emotions, de- sires, and passions. But the slightest examination Avill teach us, that this could not be the ease, that these states of mind TO THE WILL. 37 could not exist, without the acquisition of knowledge, which of course implies the exercise of the intellect. If we approve or disapprove a thing, it is very evident that we must have a knowledge of some ohject of approval or disapproval, that there must he something, upon which these emotions can fasten. And again, if we exercise love or hatred, the intel- lect must have heen previously employed in making known the existence and qualities of those objects, towards which the passions of love and hatred are directed. And these views will be found equally applicable to the Will. There can no more be an act of the will without some object of knowledge before the mind, than there can be remembrance without a thing remembered, or association without an object, to which the principle of association at- taches itself. Hence, if we could find a man, in whom the intellect is entirely destroyed in fact, or is virtually des- troyed by being entirely dormant, we should find at the same time an extinction both of the passions and the will. Happily the history of the human race furnishes but a soli- tary instance of that extreme extinction of the intellect which we now have in view ; we refer to the case of the unfortunate Caspar Hauser. As the intellect cannot be brought into action and made to develope itself except by coming into contact with the material world, the result of his confinement from childhood 'in one place, and of his entire seclusion from every thing external to his horrid prison was the utter prostration of his understanding ; scarcely a ray of knowledge penetrated it ; the feeble perceptions of early infancy were -combined with a body, that had nearly expan- ded itself to the fulness of manhood. Such imbecility and vacuity of the intellect of course furnished no foundation for the developement of the sensibilities. If we may rely upon the accounts, that are given of him, there was in gen- eral an unruffled and placid surface, a great calm of the mind. 38 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT v And as there was no excitement, no tossing to and fro of the sensibilities, but every thing there was wrapped up in slumber and inactivity ; so there was no determination, no resolve, no vigour and promptness of the voluntary power. The slightest impulse from the minds of others was followed by the consentaneous and unresisting movement of his own ; and his Will, so far from indicating any elements of decision and stability, could be likened only to the flexible reed of the desert, which, without knowing the power that presses it, is shaken and bent by every changing breeze. ' §. 14 The connection of the understanding with the will shown from its connection with action. But it is the object of this chapter to consider particular- ly the connection existing between the understanding and the will, and the relation they' sustain to each other. And we may accordingly remark further, that the connection of the intellectual with the voluntary constitution is apparent from the connection of the intellectual part or understanding with action. Whatever difference of opinion there may be in other respects, there is a general agreement in this, that the mind, both in its internal constitution and in its adaptation to outward objects, is evidently framed for movement. It was never meant to be essentially dormant, either in a state of unconsciousness or of mere •contemplation and emotion ; but was rather, when Ave consider its connec- tion with other states and modes of existence, designed to be an attendant and ministering angel to the great Being who made it, performing his errands of observation and mercy, in whatever sphere of activity He might see fit to designate. — And it seems to be further assented to, not on- ly that the various parts of man's nature conspire to action, but also that the ultimate seat and source of action is in the TO THE WILL. 30 Will ; in other words, that the will emphatically sustains the part of the controlling and executive power of the mind. The will in particular leads to outward action. It must be obvious to every one. that there can be no bodily action, ex- ' cepting what is termed involuntary, without a concurrent act of the will ; and it is equally obvious that action, in its Various forms, embraces the multiplied duties, and is the foundation of the usefulness of man. Now if these views be correct, and if we wholly dissever the understanding from action, where is its utility ? If the highest exertions of the intellect can lead to no possible re- sults, except the mere accumulation of an inoperative and lifeless mass of knowledge, what are the benefits connected with it ? If we are assured on the highest authority, that knowledge without charity is no better than sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal, it iscertainly of no more worth with- out practical results, without correspondent action. But if we are not prepared to admit, that the intellect, which is so often and so justly pronounced the glory of man, is without worth, it seems to follow, that its value depends upon its con- nection with the will. Action, as we have seen, is uridoubt- cdlyethe great object, that was had in view, in the creation of the human mind ; but it is evident, that the understanding can have no connection with action, except in the direction and with the concurrent movement of the voluntary power. And on these grounds, among others, we may assert the rela- tionship and the alligation of the two. § 15. Further proof from an observation of the conduct of men. In addition to the considerations, which have already been brought forward, we may find further proofs of the connection, which is alledged to exist, in our manner of ad- dressing men, when Ave wish them to pursue a certain course. 40 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT We do not address the will directly and alone ; nor do we directly address ourselves to the emotions and passions of men ; but we commonly lay the basis of our efforts in a movement on the understanding. We. make this statement with a good degree of confidence ; and we appeal to every one's recollection, whether it be not true. A person wishes another to join with him in some enterprise, and perhaps it ' is one of an exciting nature. But where does he begin ? Does he immediately lay a requisition upon the will, com- manding and requiring the individual to enter upon the pro- posed course at once ? Every one must see, that this would certainly defeat his own purpose. If, therefore, he would indulge the hope of succeeding, he must act upon the will by taking advantage of the relations, which it sustains to other parts of our mental nature. Accordingly he commences his attempts, by an appeal to the understanding, endeavoring to show by plain and incontrovertible statements the practi- cability; propriety, and benefits of his propositions ; and he knows perfectly well, that, unless he succeeds in convinc- ing the understanding, he has no prospect of rousing the will to action, and that the probability of a movement on the part of the voluntary power will be in proportion, or near- ly so, to the favourable position of the intellect. On the death of Julius Caesar, Anthony is represented by Shakespeare, who well knew what process was requisite in effecting such an object, as endeavouring to stir up a " sud- den flood of mutiny.'' But he does not command the mul- titude,who are ready for almost any purpose whether good or evil, to go forth at once, and consummate his projects of fire and slaughter. He addresses neither the will, nor the pas- sions, till he had first made a lodgment in the understanding. After saying, in excuse of his coming to speak at Caesar's funeral, that Caesar was a just and faithful friend to him- TO THE WILL. 41 self, he goes on to state what are the plain facts in the case, viz, that Caesar had brought to Rome many cap- tives, that by their ransom money he had filled the pub- lic coffers, that he had wept over the sufferings of the poor, that he had refused a kingly crown at the Lupereal, &c. These statements, which were mere facts addressed to the understanding, and some of them at least were incon- trovertible, of course laid the foundation for a change in the passions, as they were designed to do. And the people, who just before had called Caesar a tyrant, and were glad that Rome was rid of him, now began to admit, that there was much reason in Anthony's sayings, and that Caesar had suffered wrong. He then told them of the greatness of Caesar, of the power which he had once exercised, of his ability to stand against not one nation merely but the whole world, though now so low that none would do him reverence. And by such addresses, directed in the first instance to the understanding, he furnished appropriate fuel to the passions, which had already begun to quicken into life ; and when he further proceeded to show them the bloody mantle, and to speak of the testament which bequeathed to them his boun- tiful legacies, the passions were kindled to a flame. It was then that the object of the speaker was accomplished, as he foresaw it would be. There was no want of motives, no hesitancy of the will, and no slowness to action. The mul- titude, driven about as the billows are agitated by the wind, were no longer the friends of Brutus ; nor were they indif- ferent and idle spectators. But rushing from street to street, and seizing such weapons as their purposes required, they called for revenge, slaughters, and burnings. §.16. Of the nature of the connection between the understan- ding and loill. Presuming enough has been said, at least for the present, 6 42 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT in support of the actual existence of the connection we are inquiring into, we are now prepared to say something of its nature. Although the connection really exists, and is of very prominent importance, it is not meant to be said, that it is a direct one. In other words, the understanding, whatever opinions may have formerly prevailed on the subject, is, in no case, in direct contact with the will. When, there- fore, we speak of the operation of the intellect upon the will, we mean an indirect or circuitous operation ; that is to say, one which is carried on through the mediation of the sensibilities, under which term we include the various forms of emotion and desire, together with feelings of obligation. The appropriate and distinctive object of the understanding is knowledge. But we confidently venture the assertion, that knowledge alone has no tendency to control volition. It is possible for a person in the exercise of his intellectual pow- ers to possess unlimited knowledge, to explore and exhaust every field of inquiry, and yet if his knowledge be unat- tended with feeling, if it be followed by no form of emotion or desire or obligatory sentiment, it will leave the will per- fectly indifferent and motionless. Any other supposition is at variance with every day's experience. A certain person, for example, comes to the conclusion, after along train of reasoning., that the possession of a definite amount of prop- erty would be beneficial to himself and family. This con- clusion is of course the result of a purely intellectual process. But if it be utterly passionless, if it be unattended with a single emotion or desire, it will altogether fail to arouse the will to activity or to secure a single effort. In the constitution of the human mind, every where so fu.ll of wisdom and of mystery, the Sensibilities, which are as different from the will as from the understanding, are located between the two. They form the connecting link, which binds them together. TO THE WILL. 43 Strike out the sensibilities, therefore, and you necessarily excavate a gulph of separation between the intellect and the will, which is forever impassible. There is from that moment no medium of communication, no bond of union, no recipro- cal action. • . * §. 17. Of the opinions of Mr. Locke on this point. • Here is one point, on which writers on the Will have sometimes fallen into errour, vjz, in placing the intellectual in juxta-position -with the voluntary power, and supposing the latter to be under the direct operation of the former. Mr. Locke himself seems to have been of this opinion at first, and .to have published to the world his belief, tha't the understand- ing,forming an estimate of what is the greatest good, was the direct means of controlling the will. But he afterwards, on more mature examination, announced, with the honesty and love of truth for which he is so celebrated, his' decided change of opinion. — "It seems, says he, so established and settled a maxim by the general consent of all mankind, that good, the greater good, determines the will, that I do not at all wonder, that, when I first published my thoughts on this subject, I took it for granted ; and I imagine that by a great many I shall be thought more excusable for having done so, than that now I have ventured to recede from so received an opinion. But yet upon a stricter inquiry, I am forced to con- clude, that good, the greater good,though apprehended and ac^ knowledged to be so, does not determine the will, until our desire, raised proportionably to it, makes us uneasy in the want of it. Convince a man ever so much, that plenty has its advantages over poverty 5 make him see and own, that the handsome conveniences of life are. better than nasty penury ; yet as long as he is content with the latter and finds no un- easiness in it, he moves not ; his will is never determined to 44 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT any action, that shall bring him out of it. Let a man be ever so well persuaded of the advantages of virtue, that it is as necessary to a man who has any great aims in this world, or hopes in the next, as food to life ; yet, .till he hungers and thirsts after righteousness, till he feels an uneasiness in the want of it, his will will not be determined to any action in pursuit of this greater good. "--"For good,he says in another passage, though appearing and allowed ever so great, yet till it has raised desires in our minds, and thereby made us unea- sy in its want, reaches not our xvills. v * He was satisfied on repeated examination and on the most mature reflection, which he could give to the subject, that the mere intellectual conviction of what might tend to the greatest good, has no effect upon the will, till it has first excited within us desires after that good. §. I8i Opinions of Sir James Mackintosh on- the same subject. The same view is taken by other profound metaphysicians, so that, independently of its own obvious reasonableness, there is no want of authority in its favour. The following expressions of Sir James Mackintosh show what were his own convictions on the subject. — "Through whatever length of reasoning the mind 'may pass in its advances towards action, there is placed at the end of any avenue, through which it can advance, some principle wholly unlike mere reason, some emotion or sentiment which must be touched, before the springs of will and action can be set in motion." And in another passage, a part of which follows, he main- tains the assertion here made at considerable length.— "We can easily imagine a percipient and thinking being without a capacity of receiving pleasure or pain. Such a being might perceive what we do ; if we could concei/e him to *Essay concerning the Human Understanding, Bk. II. Ch. xxi. §§. 35, 46, TO THE WILL. 45 reason, he might reason justly ; and if he were to judge at all, there seems no reason why he should not judge truly.. But what could induce such a being to ivill or to act ? It seems evident that his existence could only be a state of passive contemplation. • Reason, as reason, can never be a motive to action. It is only when we superadd to such a being sensibility, or the capacity of emotion or sentiment, (or what in corporeal cases is called sensation,) of desire and aversion, that we introduce him into the world of. action. We then clearly discern, that, when the conclusion of a pro- cess of reasoning presents to his mind an object of desire, or the means of obtaining it, a motive of action begins to ope- rate ; and reason may then, but not till then, have a power- ful though indirect influence on conduct. Let any argument to dissuade a man from immorality be employed, and the issue of it will always appear to be an appeal to a feeling. You prove that drunkenness will probably ruin health. No position founded on experience is more certain. Most persons with whom you reason must be as much convinced of it as you are. But your hope of success depends on the drunk- ard's fear of ill health ; and he may always silence your argument by telling you that he loves wine more than he dreads sickness. You speak in vain of the infamy of an act to one who disregards the opinion of others ; or of its im- prudence to a man of little-feeling for his own future condi- tion. You may truly,. but vainly, tell of the pleasures of friendship to one who has little affection". If you display the delights of liberality to a miser, he may always shut your mouth by answering, "the spendthrift, may prefer such pleasure ; I love money more." If you even appeal to a man's conscience, he may answer you, that you have clearly proved the immorality of the act, and that he him- self knew it before ; but that now, when you had renewed and freshened his conviction, he was obliged to own, that 40 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT his love of virtue, even aided by the fear of dishonour, remorse, and punishment, was not so powerful as the desire which hurried him into vice."* — He concludes with remark- ing, that it is thus apparent, that the influence of reason on the will is indirect ^nd arises only from its being one of the chan- nels, by which the objects of desire or aversion are brought near to these springs of voluntary action. §. 19. The understanding reaches the will through the sensibili- ties. While, therefore, we may be assured, that there is an established and fixed connection between the understanding and the will, and that they are by the constitution of our na- ture reciprocally indispensable to each other, this connection is not to be regarded as direct and immediate, but the under- standing affects the will through the medium- of the Sensi- bilities. The direct connection, therefore, of the understand- ing is with the sensibilities ;' and with that portion of them, which are appropriately, and by way of distinction from the other sentient states of the mind, termed 'the Emotions. It is true, there is no resemblance between an emotion and a mere perception or thought ; in their nature they are entirely different from each other. " An emotion of pleasure or pain, in the language of Mackintosh, differs much more from a mere perception, than the perceptions of one sense do from those of another. The perceptions, of all the senses have some qualities in common. But an emotion has not necessa- rily any thing in common with a perception, but that they are both states of the mind." But these two classes of mental states, although they dif- fer so entirely in their nature, are placed in juxta-position to each other ; by which we mean, that one is immediately *VieW of the Progress of Ethical Philosophy, Section V. TO THE WILL. 47 successive to the other, or, in other words, that they hold the relation of antecedence and sequence. And it is here, that the understanding makes its approaches upon the voluntary power, and contributes to its being called into ac- tion, as will be seen more distinctly in som£ remarks of the following chapter. §. 20. The acts of the intellect the direct antecedents to emotions. Let us delay here a moment, and notice that marked and interesting fact in our mental economy, that knowledge is the foundation of emotion ; keeping in mind, that the knowl- edge of a particular subject is but the intellect itself brought into a new position in relation to that . subject. All the knowledge which men have relates either to matter or mind ; to the outward and external, or to the invisible and spiritual world. But in both its great forms, and under whatever possible aspect it may exist, we find it to be attended with emotion. * No man walks the earth, and contemplates its va- riegated features, its mingled yet harmonizing exhibitions of wood and water, of hill and vale, and tree and flower, and sun and cloud, without experiencing the origin of a feeling within him additional to the mere perception of these objects. There is a gush of pleasure, a flow of emotive sen- sibility, which is better known by the experience than by any description. The emotion, however, is not always of the same kind. There are times and places, where nature puts on her more awful and frowning aspects, where she appears in storm and power and gloom. And then the emo- tion ascends from the merely beautiful to the grand and sublime. .And there are also other objects of knowledge than mere natural objects ; all the various and wonderful attributes of 48 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT mind ; the patience and the fortitude, and the joy and the sorrow, and the magnanimity and the crime and the justice, which diversify the history of the human race. The knowl- edge of these too, (for every thing is dormant until the intel- lect has put itself in exercise and has explored the objects which come within its sphere,) arouses the sensibility, and calls forth the strongest emotions ; not only emotions of the beautiful and sublime, of joy and sorrow, but of . appro- val and disapproval, according to the nature and character of the thing which is presented before us. §. 21. Emotions change with changes in the intellectual perceptions. . We may not only lay down the general truth, that emo- tions depend for their existence on the antecedent acts of the intellect, but also that the character of the emotion will vary as a general thing, with changes in the intellectual per- ceptions. All objects become more or less interesting to us, more or less radiant with glory or dark with degradation, as we know more or less about them. That scenery of nature, which seemed to us exceedingly beautiful at first, will at once appear less so, on the discovery of some new object, which is judged by us discordant. Avith its general character. That exquisite picture, which charms us at the first glance, will excite still stronger emotions of pleasure, whea we examine it carefully in all its parts. That man of riches, who beholds his granaries and coffers with so much joy, when he sits down to reason coolly upon the true value of the wealth he possesses ; when he considers that it will corrupt the morals and prove the destruction of his children, and that it will arouse the endless upbraidings of his own conscience for the means he employed in acquiring it, will be likely to find the feeling of joy withering within him, and those of sorrow and remorse taking its place. How TO THE WILL. 49 many cases there are of moral conduct, which, on first being made known to us, have called forth the most decisive ap- probation ; but which, on a further examination of the motives of the actors, have changed their character, and lost all their moral glory ! How many friends have gladdened us by their countenance, which seemed to beam with a heav- enly excellence, but have afterwards filled us with loathing and abhorrence, when we have found, that their pretended friendship was merely assumed to cloak their private views, and to carry their selfish ends ! And thus it is with all objects of knowledge, as they become more fully explored either in themselves, or in their relations. According as they change their aspect under the inspection of the intellect, they are invested with a new character from the emotions. But if all emotion depends essentially upon intellect, and all change of emotion depends essentially upon change of intellect, we shall hereafter have occasion to see, even more fully than has yet been pointed out, how close and indispensable the bond is, which unites the intellectual to the voluntary power. • §. 22. The powers of the will not perfectly correspondent to those of the intellect. But, although the intellect thus lays the original founda- tion of the acts of the will, We are not necessarily to infer, that there. is an exact correspondence and proportion be- tween them. In other words we are not to infer,that the vigour of the will is always in exact proportion to the expansion and vigour of the intellect. It Avas'a sagacious remark of the distinguished painter Fuseli, which we venture to assert a careful observation will fully confirm, that nature does not always "proportion the will to our powers ; it sometimes as- signs a copious proportion of will to minds, whose faculties 50 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT are very contracted, and frequently associates with the great- est faculties a will feeble and impotent."* — The will appears to require, as the basis of its action in any given case, only a certain sphere of knowledge ; and any amount of knowl- edge beyond that sphere will not necessarily affect the ener- gy of the voluntary action either one way or the other. Some instances will explain more clearly what we mean. In Dr. Goldsmith, so justly celebrated for his various literary productions, we may notice no inconsiderable grasp of intellect, combined with a will not fully proportioned to it. Distinguished as a poet, a comic writer, and a novelist, his conduct through life was marked with an exceeding in- firmity of purpose. With a perfect understanding of the impositions, of which he was made the subject, he still had not promptness and decision enough to counteract them. His biographer asserts, that he could not give a refusal ; and being thus cheated with his eyes open, no man could be a surer and easier dupe to the imposters, whose arts he could so well describe. f May we not also adduce the mental traits of a man still more distinguished ? The intellect of Sir Isaac Newton seemed capacious enough to embrace the whole circle of knowledge ; nothing among men could well exceed the grasp of his- understanding ; but, if we carefully compare the statements given by his biographers, we shall probably be convinced,that there was not a perfect correspondence and proportion between his intellectual and his voluntary power; that he often exhibited no small infirmity and indecision of purpose ; a gigantic strength of thought, united with a childlike uncertainty and flexibility of action. After he had completed his great work, the Principia, and had placed the *Cunn'mgham's Lives of Painters, Art. Fuseli. t Scott's Lives of the Novelists, Art. Goldsmith. TO THE WILL. 51 the new philosophical creed on an immovable basis, we are told he was unwilling to give it to the world, probably- through fear of the controversies it might occasion ; and that he was induced to do so through the urgent importunity of some of his intimate friends* — In the case of 'Newton, how- ever, it may not be necessary to assert positively, as in that of Goldsmith and many others, that there- was a natural defi- ciency or weakness of the will, since we are at liberty to attempt another explanation. The will, like the other mental powers, strengthens by exercise, and grows languid and we'ak by disuse. But this great philosopher was almost constantly employed in inquiries beyond the ordinary sphere of the world's motives and actions ; and as he consequently had but little occasion for calling the voluntary power into exercise, we may well suppose that it lost in some degree its natural vigour. §. 23. Jin energetic will sometimes found in connection with limited powers of intellect. And if, on the one hand, a great grasp of intellect is not always attended with a voluntary energy corresponding to it, we find on the other, that inferiority of intellect, (we do not speak now of extreme cases, but of such as are of every day's occurrence,) is not necessarily accompanied with di- minished power of the will. The sphere of the will's action is of course diminished in such instances ; but it is possible for it to exhibit great vigour within that limited sphere. It has but a small field to work in, but it does its duty faith- fully and promptly in the restricted limits allotted it. It is not an uncommon thing to find men of great resolution and decision, whose want of intellectual ability must always ¥ Brewster's Life of Newton, Chap. XI. — Cumberland's Memoirs, p. 9. — D'Israeli's Curiosities of Literature, Vol. 2d, p. 165. 52 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT &c. confine them to the ordinary ranks of life. If the ener- gy of their intellect could be expanded so as to he in pro- portion to the energy of their will, they -would real- ize in their own persons the noble character of Cincinna- tus at the plough. And even among men in the more exalted stations, we sometimes find the combination of a restricted intellect with a fearfully imperative will. And if they are esteemed great men, it is not necessary to contest the title, but it is evidently the ascendency of the. will, and that alone, which gives them their high merit in the eyes of the public. It has been remarked of the renowned marshal Ney, that he was scarcely capable of putting two ideas together. Although this is an exaggeration, it is very certain, that his great celeb- rity does not rest upon- his comprehensive views and powers of reasoning, but almost solely on his surprising promptness and resolution in action ; in other words, on the promptness and force of the will. — But it will be necessary to resume this subject again. All that we wish to say now is, that, although there is a connection between the understanding and the will, and the one is the basis of the life and activity of the other, there is not a perfect correspondence between the two, and that the power and activity of the one does not fur- nish a perfect measure of the ability and promptness of the other. CHAPTER THIRD. RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES TO THE WILL. §. 24. General statement in explanation of the term sensibilities. Having proceeded thus far, in considering the relation which the Understanding sustains to the will, we advance a step further into the interiour of the mental nature, and con- sider more particularly the relation which the Sensibilities sus- tain to it. We have already had occasion to remark, that the doctrine formerly prevalent of the will's being controlled by the last dictate of the understanding is untenable, and that the understanding is in no case indirect contact with the voluntary power. They are entirely removed from each other, and the space between them is occupied by another portion of the mind of the greatest interest and importance, viz, its sentient states, and which of course has a more direct connection with the will. But before attempting to illus- trate this connection, it is necessary to state, in a few words, what is properly included under the term Sensibilities. It may be said in general terms without professing to be specific and exact, that every thing is to be in- cluded under the word Sensibilities, which implies feel- ing. The expression may be regarded as meaning 54 RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES. the same as the word heart does, in those numerous pas- sages of English writers, where the heart is spoken of in distinction from the head or the understanding. "Loyalty, (says Junius in his First Letter,) in the heart and understand- ing of an Englishman, is a natural attachment to the guardian of the laws." Such expressions as these of this celehrated writer, implying a distinction hetween the" intellectual and sentient naturej are to be found without number ; so fre- quently at least as to authorize the presumption, that they are well understood. When we say of an individual, that he has a vigorous intellect but a perverted heart, or on the other hand characterize him as possessed of a just and generous heart in combination with a weak intellect, we rightly count on such expressions being easily and read- ily apprehended. We use the term Sensibilities, therefore, as meaning essentially the same with the heart, as it is em- ployed in such passages. But this statement, it must be ad- mitted, is so general and indefinite, that it seems necessary to designate more particularly what is included under the term. §. 25. Of what are strictly included under the sensibilities. The states of mind coming under the general head of the Sensibilities may be arranged under the three' subordinate classes of Emotions, Desires, and- feelings of Obligation ; including under the class of the Desires certain complex states of mind, of which desire makes a prominent part, such as the appetites, propensities, and affections. Of these three subordinate classes, the Emotions naturally pre- sent themselves first to our consideration. These feelings are very various in kind, such as the emotions of cheerful- ness and joy, of melancholy and sorrow^ of surprise, aston- ishment, and wonder ; the emotions of beauty, grandeur, and TO THE WILL. 55 sublimity ; the emotions of the ludicrous, and the emotions of approval and disapproval. As the emotions are simple states of the mind, it would be of no avail to attempt to de- fine them ; but the knowledge of them must be {eft to the testimony of each one's consciousness. But it is to be pre- sumed, that no one is ignorant of what is meant when we speak of cheerfulness, of wonder, of melancholy, of beauty, grandeur, and the like. , Besides Emotions, we have the subordinate class of De- sires included under the general head of sentient states of the mind or sensibilities. The knowledge of these too must be had chiefly from consciousness. No mere form of words can illustrate their nature as' distinguished from that of emo- tions, independently of that internal experience which is im- plied in an act of consciousness, excepting in the single cir- cumstance, that emotions are instantaneous, while there is apparently a greater permanency in desires. These last continue the same as when they first arose, so long as the objects towards which they are directed are the same, while the emotions are in general more transitory. Under the class of. Desires may be included, as has already been stated, the appetites, such as hunger and thirst ; the propensities', such as curiosity or the desire of knowledge, the innate desire of esteem, the principle of imitation, socia- bility or the desire of society, ambition or the desire of power, and the like ; and the affections, both the malevo- lent, and those of a beneficent tendency. To these may also be added, as belonging to and as forming a distinct portion of the sentient constitution, the feelings of Obligation. It Avould be inconsistent with the plan, which we propose to pursue, to go very fully into the nature of Obligatory sentiments. The difference, existing between them and the Desires, will probably be obvious to ZQ RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES every one on even a slight internal examination. Nor is there, in "general, any danger of their being confounded with the Emotions, excepting those, which are also of a moral nature, viz, of approval and disapproval. But here also the distinction is not an imperfect or obscure one. The emotions of approval and disapproval, with some trifling ex- ceptions mote apparent than real, have reference entirely to the character of objects and actions, that are either past or present. The states of mind on the contrary, which involve obligation and duty, have reference to the future ; to some- thing, which is either to be performed or the performance of which is to be avoided.- They bind us entirely" to what is to come. — There is also this additional ground of distinction between the two, that the feelings of obligation are always subsequent in point of time to the approving or disappro- ving emotions ;' .and cannot possibly exist, unless prece- ded by them. The-statement, (to introduce here what we have already said on another occasion when more fully examining this subject,) is susceptible of illustration in this way. Some complicated state of things, involving moral considerations, is presented before us ; we inquire and exam- ine into it; emotions of approval and disapproval then arise. And this is all that takes place, if we ourselves have, in no way whatever, any direct and active concern, either present or future. But if it be otherwise, the moral emotions are immediately succeeded by a distinct and imperative feeling, viz, the sentiment of obligation, which binds us, as if it were the voice of God speaking in the soul, to act or not to act, to do or hot to do, to favour or to oppose. How common a thing it is for a person to say, that he feels no moral obliga- tion to do a thing, because he does not approve it, or on the contrary, that, approving any proposed course, he feels un- der obligation to pursue it ; language, which undoubtedly TO THE WILL. 57 means something, and which implies a distinction between the mere moral emotion and the feeling of obligation ; and which tends to prove the prevalence of the common belief, that the feeling of obligation ii subsequent to, and depend- ent on that of approval or disapproval* These statements, though necessarily brief, "will help to show what are strictly included under the term sensibilities. §. 26. Acts of the intellect in immediate proximity with emo- tions. In considering those states of mind, which are termed sentient, in distinction from the intellectual, we have to remark further, that of the various classes of feeling named in the preceding section, the Emotions come first in order. That . is to say, in proceeding from the intellect to the will through the sensibilities, which is obviously the road that nature has laid out and established to the exclusion of every other, we find the intellections in contact, or more properly speaking, in immediate proximity with the emotions. The first step taken from the understanding to the heart is into the region of the emotions, and not into that of the desires, or of the feelings of obligation. And here it is proper again to observe, as we had occasion to notice in the preceding chapter, that the original and sole foundation of emotions is knowledge, which implies of course the action of the intellect. This is an ultimate fact in our constitution, which therefore we cannot resolve into any thing else. Whenever an object of knowledge is presented before us, of whatever kind, we are so constituted, that we necessarily have a correspondent emotion, either pleasing or displeas- ing ; though in many cases, it must be acknowledged, the emotion is so very slight as to give the object the appear- ance of being perfectly indifferent. And even if we should * Elements of Mental Philosophy, 3d. Abridged Ed. p. 586. 8 53 RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES admit, that there may be some objects of knowledge, (or in other words some intellectual perceptions, which amounts to the same thing,) that are perfectly indifferent, being wholly unattended with emotions, it will still remain true, ou the other hand, that there can be no emotions without some ob- ject of knowledge, without some pfeceding intellectual act. The. natural progress Of the mind, therefore, in bringing the will into action, is from intellections to emotions. If we are asked, how a mere intellectual perception can excite an emotion,. which two are things entirely distinct from each other, all we can answer is, that such is the mind's constitution. The Creator of the mind has willed it to be so. He has ordained, by a wise and permament arrange- ment, that the landscape .should inspire within us senti- ments of beauty, that the vast cataract should inspire emotions of grandeur or sublimity, that the perception of wise and benevolent conduct in others should be attended with an instantaneous emotion of approval. — And, further- more, wherever there is a clear and just perception, the emotion will not only necessarily arise, but there will gen- erally be, though it may not always be the case, an entire correspondence between the two. That is to say, the emo- tion will be the true and precise measure of the natural and moral beauty of objects, and of their deformity ; and the true measure of all other qualities, which are fitted to excite emotions. We say, where there is a clear and just per- ception, for it is undeniable, that the perception is often perplexed and clouded by inexcusable carelessness, by in- ordinate passion, by strong casual associations, and for oth- er reasons ; and that, in consequence of this, the cor- respondence, which ought to exist between the emotion and the true nature of the object before the mind,'fre- TO THE WILL. 59 quently fails. But in all those eases, where there is no erro- neous and unnatural influence operating on the understand- ing, we shall seldom fail to find a due adaptation and har- mony between these two parts of our nature. §. 27. Emotions not in proximity with volitions. Acts of the understanding or intellections are, by the constitution of our nature, antecedent to emotions. But while it is thus obvious, that emotions stand between intel- lections and volitions, we are not to suppose, that emotions, although they are one *step nearer the will than the mere acts of the understanding, are-in direct contact- with it, or have of themselves alone any power over it. It may be as- serted with perfect confidence, if we "had. these feelings alone, the will would never be brought into action. They have no more natural tendency to cause volition than mere thought, than the most unimpassioned and abstract specula- tions of the intellect. Let us take some illustration. A per- son contemplates some picture of excellent workmanship, which appears to him beautiful or sublime, and excites within him emotions of that character ; but the existence of these emotions merely never calls forth any act of volition. He stands, and gazes, and the tide of emotion swells in upon him, and he is overwhelmed with it. But while this portion of his Sensibilities alone is awakened and called into exer- cise, he will remain as inactive, as if he had been formed of intellect merely. He will take no measures to possess the painting or to do any thing else in respect to it, until he is under the influence of another portion of the Sensibilities entirely distinct from emotions. §. 28. Emotions followed by desires and feelings of obligation. We behold here the admirable economy of the mind, a 6,0 RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES decisive and striking proof of that wisdom, which pervades its wonderful structure. Intellectual perceptions lay the foundation of emotions, and if these last cannot reach and influence the higher and more authoritative power of the will, it is so ordered in tke mental constitution, that they lay the foundation of other mental states, which can. The classes of feelings, of which the emotions may be regarded as the basis, appear to be two in number, namely the Desires, founded on the various emotions which give pleasure or displeasure, and Feelings of obligation, founded on the emo- tions of approval and disapproval. And in the first place a word or two may be said on the Desires. It has been seen, that intellections are not in direct connection With the desires, but that emotions inter- vene. The acts of the understanding alone can never raise a single desire. In no case whatever does a man assert his desire of a thing, unless he is pleased with it either in itself, or in its relations and applications . But if there be no desire without the intervention of some emotion, then it is evident, that the mere knowledge of the thing, towards Avhich the de- sire is directed, is not sufficient to excite it ; but on the con- trary, without something more than the mere acts of the un- derstanding, it could never exist . The process of the mind,there- fore, is from intellections to emotions, and from emotions to desires. The intellectual perceptions lay the foundation for the vari- ous emotions both pleasant and painful ; and the desires are attendant upon these. We desire a hous"e and its furniture ; we desire a picture or a statue, or other objects of conven- ience, utility, and beauty ; ' because they excite emotions and give us pleasure, but not otherwise. And if we are here asked, Avhy the emotions should lay the foundation of desires, we can only say, as in respect to to the general fact that intellections lay the foundation of TO THE WILL. 61 emotions, it is the constitution op our nature. The same creative power that requires emotions to follow the percep- tions of the understanding,has instituted the succession of the desires to emotions. And it is in Desires that we find the immediate antecedents to the acts of the Will. They pre- sent to it a powerful motive. They furnish to it one of its broadest grounds of action. §. 29. Further remarks on obligatory feelings. But the class of mental states, which are termed emo- tions, are followed not merely by Desires, but also by an- other class, distinct from Desires and yet sustaining the same relation of proximity to the will, which for want of a single term we have been obliged to denominate Feelings of obligation. Desires are founded on those emotions, which involve what is pleasurable or painful, while Obligatory feelings are exclusively based on emotions of a different kind, viz. those of approval and disapproval. These states of mind, although they are easily distinguished by our con- sciousness from desires, agree with the latter in being in di- rect contact with the voluntary power, and not unfrequently these two classes stand before the will in direct and fierce opposition to each other. We are aware, that the representation has sometimes been given by writers, that the emotions of approval and disapproval are in direct proximity with the will, and exert a direct control over it. But this is not true of any emo- tions whatever, those of approval and disapproval as well as others. They all stop short .of the will, and require the in- tervention of some other state of the mind. We put forth emotions in approval or disapproval of a certain action or a certain course of conduct, but they will never lead us to ex- ert any effort of our own, until^ they are followed by the 62 RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES distinct feelings of obligation. Hence the common re- mark, that we feel an obligation to pursue a certain course, because we approve it ; which implies, that, while the feeling of approval is the antecedent to that of obligation, the latter is the direct and effective antecedent to volition. A view of this portion of the mind, which, we are persuaded, will bear the strictest internal examination, and ' will not fail to be found true. §. 30. Desires and obligatory feelings in contact with the will. We are now able, looking at the mind* in its great out- lines, to understand the precise relation, which its prominent parts hold to the will. Volition is the great result, to which they all, in their appropriate position, contribute ; and .with which they all, therefore, sustain an established connection, though not with the same degree of nearness. And taken together, they furnish a basis for the operations of the will, sufficiently extensive not only for the purposes of action, but of accountability. We here see, that, in the exercise of volition, men are not shut up to one form of action ; but are enabled and required, in all cases where such a distinction actually exists, to discriminate between the utile and the honestum, between the desirable and the just, between what is merely profitable or prudential, and what is virtuous. And it is undoubtedly important, that these views should be borne in mind, for they have a direct and close bearing upon main's accountability, and also upon the question of his freedom. And a due degree of attention should be given to all consid- erations, which have a tendency to settle these interesting questions. §.31. Opinions of metaphysical loriters on the foregoing statements. The doctrines, thus far advanced in this chapter, find sup- TO THE WILL. ' Q$ port, in their essential and most important respects, in vari- ous writers. It is true that the distinction between desires and feelings of obligation has not been so clearly drawn and so much insisted on, as it should be, although almost all writers, either more formally or incidentally, seem to ac- knowledge, that the moral nature presents direct and power- ful motives to the will, as well as those parts of our consti- tution, which involve mere pleasure and desire. In respect to the relation, sustained by desires to the will, there is more explicitness. Mr. Locke, in particular, repeatedly and clearly asserts their proximity to volition. t He does indeed say, that uneasiness determines the will, (§. 31. of the Chap- ter on Power,) but we need not mistake how this is to be interpreted, when we remember he expressly adds, besides giving his reasons for the remark, "this uneasiness we may call, as it is, Desire." And in accordance with this, we find him remarking as follows, in a subsequent section of the same chapter. — "I have hitherto chiefly instanced in the un- easiness of desire, as that which determines the will, because that is the chief and most sensible, and the will seldom or- ders any action, nor is there any voluntary action perform- ed, without some desire accompanying it ; which I think is the reason why the will and desire are so often confounded. But yet we are not to look upon the uneasiness which makes up, or at least accompanies most of the other passions, as wholly excluded in the case. Aversion, fear, anger, envy, shame, &c. have each their uneasiness too, and thereby in- fluence the will. These passions are scarce any of them in life and practice simple and alone, and wholly unmixed with others ; though usually in discourse and contemplation, that carries the name which operates strongest, and appears most in the present, state of the mind: nay, there is, I think, scarce any of the passions to be found without desire joined 64 RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES with it. I am sure, wherever, there, is uneasiness, there is desire ; for we constantly desire happiness ; and whatever we feeh'of uneasiness, so much it is certain we want of hap- piness, even in our own opinion, let our state and condition otherwise he what it will. Besides, the present moment not being our eternity, whatever our enjoyment he, we look heyond the present, and desire goes with our foresight, and that still carries the will with it. So that even in joy itself, that which keeps up the action, whereon the enjoyment de- pends, is the desire to continue it, and fear to lose it : and whenever a greater uneasiness than that takes place in the mind, the will presently is by that determined to some new action, and the present delight neglected."* §. 32. Of the strength of the desires. While we are upon this part of the "general subject, we may properly remark, as it may he found to have some con- nection with what will he said hereafter, on the strength of the desires. The intensity of the desires, and also of the emotions on which they are founded, will not unfrequently vary in different individuals, even when they are acting together, in reference to the same object, and nearly "under the same circumstances. The cause of this variation may be found, in the first place, in the intellect or understanding. The relation existing between the understanding and the sensibilities has already been, in some measure, explained. And those explanations will throw a ready and clear light upon the present topic. We are so constituted, as it would seem from the remarks now referred to, that the emotions we have, whether pleasant or painful, will vary, as a general thing, with our knowledge. If we happen on some occasion to be pleased with any natural or artificial object, we shall find, that the pleasurable emotion will be increased or di- * Essay concerning Human Understanding, Bk, II> Ch. XXI, §• 39. .: * TO THE WILL. 65 minished by our further knowledge either of its excellencies or its defects. And as the natural progress of the mind is from the emotions to the desires, it will also happen, that the strength of the desires will vary in accordance with the variation in the intensity of the emotions. We will illustrate this by a- single instance. We may assume, (and indeed have abundant reason to believe it to be the fact,) that the venerable Thomas Clarkson, who has been the instrument of effecting so much for suffering Africa, is naturally a person of a kindly and amiable disposition, and easily moved by exhibitions of human woe: But how did it happen, that this individual felt and effected so much in op- position to the Slave Trade, while others of equal amiability neither felt nor acted ? The explanation is an easy one, and it throws light upon the operations of the human mind. In the year 1785, the vice-chancellor of the University of Cambridge, with which Mr Clarkson was connected, gave out as the subject of a prize essay, ll JLrme Uceat invitos in servitutem dare? Is it right to enslave others against their will?" He wrote upon this subject, and gained the prize. And it was the knowledge, which he acquired in writing this Essay, that affected his heart ; he became ac- quainted with facts, which were before unknown to him, and his sensibilities were moved ; he knew and then he felt ; he wept over the mass of human suffering that Was displayed be- fore him, not because he was actually of a more benevolent disposition than he was the year before, or of a more benev- olent temperament than a hundred others in Great Britain, but because he had become acquainted with it. And when he had known, and when he had felt new desires and new feelings of obligation enkindling within, him, he saw there was nothing remaining for him but to will and to do, to re- solve and to act. And from that time he has devoted his useful life to Africa. 9 66 RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES (2) — But it is necessary to add, that the mere amount of knowledge does not seem sufficient of itself to explain fully the differences of sensibility, which we notice in different per- sons. Whatever may have sometimes been said to the contra- ry, there can hardly be a doubt, that the minds of men, though compacted of the same essential elements, differ from each other in the modification and exhibition of those elements, as much as the general form of their bodies and their looks dif- fers. And if we find, that there is a constitutional difference in the powers of perception, memory, reasoning and the like, we may expect to find that there is naturally and constitu- tionally a greater quickness and strength of emotions and of consequent desires in some than in others . And this is confirmed by constant observation. It would certainly be deemed a very reasonable assertion, and fully confirmed by the whole course of his life, that the benevolent Howard was possessed of greater quickness and power of sensibility than many others. We do not mean to say that all he did was owing solel y to the natural quickness of his sensibilities. It was undoubtedly the fact, that the food,which he furnished to the understanding, nourished the sensibilities also ; but it was equally true, that the sensibilites were naturally and strongly predisposed to receive such nourishment. If these views be correct, then in endeavouring to influ- ence a person to pursue a certain course of conduct, we must consider not only the character and value of the object which is presented before him, but the temperament of the man. The object, that will bring one promptly into action, may approach heavily and weakly the more sluggish and indurated heart of another. §. 33. Of the strength of feelings of obligation. Essentially the same views will apply to feelings of obli- gation. Like the desires, their degree of strength will vary, TO THE WILL. 67 in the first place, with the amount of our knowledge. In other words, the more fully and completely we understand a moral action, in itself and in its relations, the stronger we may reasonably expect will be our feelings of approval or disapproval. But it has been seen, that the mere feelings of approval and disapproval never of themselves excite the will, and lead us to action. They must be followed by feel- ings of obligation ; and the strength of these last will cor- respond very nearly with that of the antecedent moral emo- tions. If the emotions be strong and there is an opening in the matter for any personal action, the feelings of obligation, which necessarily follow them, will be proportionately strong. But here also, as in the case of the desires, there may be a constitutional difference in individuals. As some persons appear to inherit from nature a quicker sensibility to the beauty or deformity of natural objects than others, so in re- gard to things of a moral character, the emotions of some persons are found to be faint, while those of others, though there is precisely the same amount of knowledge in both cases, are distinct and vivid. And if nature may thus lay a foundation for a difference in the emotions, it necessarily lays a foundation for a difference in those feelings of obli- gation, of which moral emotions are the basis. Did not na- ture do more for the moral constitution of Aristides than for that of Alcibiades ? And was Regulus, who sacrificed his life to preserve his honour, on an equality in this respect with Caesar, who sacrificed both his honour and his country to his ambition ? §. 34. Of the influence of the sensibilities on the understanding. Before quitting the subject of the relations sustained by the sensibilities, we have a remark further to make. The sensibilities have not only an influence onward, that is to 68 RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES say, upon the will ; but backward upon the understanding. The power of the heart over the intellect has been often no- ticed by theological writers ; nor can it have escaped the knowledge of any one, who has made the opinions and con- duct of men a subject of careful observation. It is not un- frequently the case, that we anticipate, with a great degree of confidence, the decisions of a person on a purely specula- tive subject, from a knowledge of his desires, prejudices, and predominant passions. But the fact is so obvious and so generally acknowledged, that we have nothing to do but to say something in explanation of it. In the first place a knowledge of the constitution of the human mind would lead us to expect, that the action of the intellect will not be free and unembarrassed, when the sen- sibilities are in a state of great excitement. It has been made sufficiently clear in this and the preceding chapters that the tendency of the mind, in its great departments of the cognitive, sentient, and voluntary, is towards conse- cutive rather than simultaneous action ; that its acts follow each other in a certain order in time ; that there is no feel- ing without antecedent cognition, and no voluntary action without the antecedent action of the sensibilities. A simul- taneous action, therefore, of the intellect and of the sensibil- ities, in an equal degree, seems to be inconsistent with those general principles of movement, which pervade the mental constitution. Accordingly When the intellect is at the high- est point of action, the passions will be subordinate; and when, on the other hand, the passions are highly excited, the operations of the intellect will be feeble and obscure. Hence it is, that every man, when he is about entering upon an investigation of an abstract and difficult nature, is desir- ous of freeing himself from the disturbing forces of the heartland of commencing his task with perfect coolness. TO THE WILL. 69 (2) — But there is another point of view,in which this sub- ject may be contemplated. It is not merely of the occasion- al predominance of the passions that the intellect may com- plain ; there is often a secret influence of the sensibilities, which attracts less notice, but is hardly less powerful ; which does not absolutely interrupt the exercise of the un- derstanding, but perverts it. For instance, we often find it difficult to form a correct judgment, where our own person- al interests are concerned, or those of our family or political party. Our love has woven itself so closely around those partial interests, that even the keen eye of the understand- ing can scarcely penetrate its folds. And when it does, it beholds every thing under a false medium ; all that is ex- cellent, magnified and made prominent ; and all that is evil, diminished and kept out of .sight. And what love has done for our own interests, jealousy and ill will and hatred have done for interests adverse to our own. These last, as well as the more amiable passions, hinder the approach of the searchings of the intellect ; and when this is no longer pos- sible, they distort the objects of its examination. CHAPTER FOURTH. VOLITIONS OR VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. §. 35. The necessity oj that controlling power which exists in the will. In the remarks hitherto made, although enough has been said to evince clearly the distinct existence of the Will, very little has been said in illustration of its appropriate na- ture. This will now be made a distinct subject of consider- ation. But before entering directly upon its examination, we take this opportunity to say something of the great ne- cessity of that regulative and controlling power, of which the will is justly deemed to be the depository. Destitute of the power of willing, is it not evident, that man would be an inefficient and useless being ? He would indeed be possessed of the intellect and the sensibilities ; but it is well understood, and has already been remarked in res- pect to the intellect, that the value of these depends, in a great degree, upon action ; in other words, upon the practi- cal results, to which they lead. But the doctrine, that man can bring himself into action, without the power of willing, seems incomprehensible. And if we could suppose it to be VOLITIONS. 71 otherwise, and if it were possible to try the experiment of basing human action directly upon the emotions and pas- sions instead of the will, it would soon show itself to be a species of action of the most perplexed and desultory kind. Like the passions themselves, it would be addicted to un- foreseen obliquities, and would every where be characteriz- ed by indications of violence and change. No language could fully express its unfixedness, its versatility, its move- ments hither and thither, in various and contradictory direc- tions. Unrestrained by any superintendant influence, the whole outward life and activity of man would be impelled blindly forward, like ships driven in storms without a rud- der, or the heavenly bodies, urged onward in all their rapid- ity of motion, without an observance of the principles of gravitation. It follows, therefore, necessarily, that there must be somewhere in the mind a power, which, amid the complica- ted variety of mental impulses, exerts a regulative and con- trolling sway. And without such a superintendent influence, we might justly pronounce the structure of the mind defec- tive. §. 3Q. The harmony of the mind secured by the superintend- ence oj the will. The intellect and the sensibilities, in their various forms of action, constitute the antecedents to volition. When called into exercise, they are to be regarded as the estab- lished prerequisites to any operation on the part of the will. And here we see occasion to notice, how much the beauty and utility of the various parts of the mind depend upon the concurrent action and support of the other parts ; and that the beauty and utility of the whole depend upon the harmo- ny of the whole. Without the enforcing power of the will, 72 VOLITIONS OR every man would be " a house divided against itself," con- stant! y exhibiting a scene of internal hostility. Among the various elements, that are shut up in the hu- man bosom, there are some highly generous and virtuous, which tend to assimilate men to angels ; while there are others inordinately selfish and vicious, and which tend to de- press them both in character and in destiny ; and no one is ignorant, that frequently they are arrayed against each oth- er in direct and fierce conflict. And in this state of things the question naturally proposes itself, where is the arbiter ? Who shall determine this great contest, sometimes invol- ving consequences of everlasting import ? Who shall still these internal convulsions, and elicit order out of this mental chaos ? In answer to these inquiries, which demand to be fully and frankly met, it is an obvious remark, and is undeniably true, that we have the power within us. And that power, (and it would be difficult to designate any other,) is the authoritative voice of the will, which,* seeing the necessity of a decision, and calmly contemplating the conflicting claims of interest and passion on the one hand, and of conscience on the other, speaks and it is done, commands and it stands fast. The will, therefore, is the culminating point in man's spiritual nature. It sits the witness and the arbitress over all the rest. It is essential alike to action and accountabil- ity, to freedom and order, to intelligence and virtue. With- out this all else is nothing. It is in reference to this, that all other susceptibilities keep their station, and perform their functions. They revolve around it as a common centre, at- tracted by its power, and controlled by its ascendency. §. 37. Remarks on the nature of the will. Having seen that the mind is to be contemplated under ■ the threefold aspect of intellectual, SENTiENT,and volunta- VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. 73 ry, and having considered the relation which the intellect and the sensibilities hear to the will, we are now prepared to pass to the consideration of the precise nature of fhe last named power. And here let us interpose a word of caution. It is not to he inferred, when we speak of one part of the mind in distinction from another, and of passing from one part or power to another, that the mind is a congeries of distinct existences, or that it is, in any literal and proper sense of the terms, susceptible of division. Varieties of action do not necessarily imply a want of unity in the principle, from which they originate. The mental principle, therefore, is indivisible. In itself it is truly and essentially an unity, though multiplied, in a manner calculated to excite the greatest astonishment, in its modes of application. It is merely one of these modes of its application, or rather one of these modes of its exercise, which is indicated by the term Will. Accordingly the term Will is not meant to ex- press any thing separate from the mind ; but merely embod- ies and expresses the fact of the mind's operating in a par- ticular way. And hence the will may properly enough be defined the mental power or susceptibility, by which we put forth volitions. And in accordance with this definition, if we wish to understand more fully what the nature of the power is, we must look at its results, and examine the na- ture of those states of mind which it gives rise to. — "It is necessary, (says Mr. Stewart very justly,) to form a distinct notion of what is meant by the word volition, in order to un- derstand the import of the word iMl ; for this last word prop- erly expresses that power of the mind, of which volition is the ad, and it is only by attending to what we experience, while we are conscious of the act, that we can understand any thing concerning the nature of the power."* * Philosophy of the Moral and Active Powers, Appendix I. §. 1. 10 74 VOLITIONS OR §. 38. Of the nature of the acts of the will or volitions. Of volitions, which are the results of the existence and exercise of the voluntary power, we are unable to give any definition in words, which will of itself make them clearly understood. They are simple states of the mind, and that circumstance alone precludes the possibility of a definition, in any strict and proper sense of the term. It is true we may call them determinations or decisions of the mind, or resolutions of the mind, or acts of choice and the like, but this is only the substitution of other terms, which them- selves need explanation ; and of course it throws no light upon the subject, of inquiry. And hence we are thrown back upon our consciousness, as we are in all cases, where the nature of the simple states of mind is the matter of inves- tigation. And whenever we have made this appeal to the internal experience, and have received its testimony, we are then placed in the possession of all that knowledge, which the nature of the case seems to admit. of. And we must sup- pose, that every one has in some degree done this. It is not presumable, at least it is not at all probable, that men, who are constantly in action, pursuing one course and avoid- ing another, adopting one plan and rejecting another, ac- cepting and refusing, befriending and opposing, all which things and many others imply voluntary action, are still ig- norant of what an act of the will is. ; §. 3d. Volition never exists without some object. Although we are obliged to depend chiefly upon con- sciousness for a knowledge of the nature of volitions, it is still true, that we can make some statements in respect to them, which may aid us in forming our opinions. Among other things, it is an obvious remark, that every act of the VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. 75 will must have an object. A very slight reflection on the subject will evince this. It is the same here as in respect to the act of thought, of memory, and of association, all of which imply some object, in reference to which the mental act is called forth. " Every act of the will, says Dr. Reid, must have an ob- ject. He that wills must will something ; and that which he wills is called the object of his- volition. As a man cannot think without thinking of something, nor remember without remembering something, so neither can he will without will- ing something. * Every act of will, therefore, must have an object ; and the person, who wills, must have some con- ception, more or less distinct, of what he wills."* §. 40. It exists only in reference to what we believe to be in our power. Another -circumstance may be pointed out in illustration of volitions, viz, that they never exist in respect to those things, which we believe to be wholly beyond our reach. As no man be- lieves, that it is in his power to fly in the air like a bird, so we never find a person putting forth a volition to do so. As no man believes, that he can originate what never had a be- ing before, in other words that he can create a new exist- ence out of nothing, so we never find a man determining, resolving, or willing to that effect. Indeed we are obvi- ously so constituted, that, whenever we believe an object to be wholly and absolutely beyond our power, volition does not and cannot exist in respect to it. The very nature of the mind interposes in such a case, and effectually obstructs the origination of the voluntary act. And this is so prompt- ly and decisively done, and done too in all cases without ex- *Reid's Essays on the Active Powers, Essay II, Chap. I. 76 VOLITIONS OR ce'ption, that we find it very difficult even to conceive of any thing, which we are certain is wholly heyond our power, as being an object of the will's action. There may be a desire in such cases, but there is no volition. ' And the usage of language will be found to throw light on this distinction, making the term desire applicable both to what is within, our reach and what is not ; and the term volition applicable only to'the former. In some cases we speak of willing or determining to do a thing, while in oth- ers we invariably limit ourselves to the mere expression of a wish or desire. Accordingly if would comport with and be required by the usage of language, if our thoughts and con- versation were directed to those matters, to say, that we determine or will to walk, but desire to fly ; that we will to build a house, but desire to create a world, As has already been intimated, the structure of the mind itself seems to re- quire the application of terms in this way. While nothing is more common than to speak of determining or Avilling to sail from New York, New Orleans, or some other mercantile place to London, no one is ever heard to speak of ivilling, but of only desiring or wishing to sail from those places to the peak of Chimborazo, or to some remote planet of our own or some other system. §. 41. Volition relates to our own action and to ichatever else may be dependent upon us. Although the statements thus far made tend to throw some light upon the nature of voluntary acts, something fur- ther remains to be remarked. It does, not seem definite enough merely to assert, that volitions relate solely to those things which are in our power, or are believed to be so. We may inquire further what is meant by being in our pow- ; er, and how far the import of the phrase may justly extend VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. 77. itself. — And hence it is necessary to add, that volitions re- late, in the first place, to our own action, either some bodily- movement or some act of the mind. In saying this, however, we do not mean to say, that volition is necessarily limited to the present action. We may will to perfoftn something of the simplest kind, which will exact, in its execution, merely the present moment, or something.o^ a more complicated nature,which will require no inconsiderable time. Any series of actions intellectual or bodily, capable of being performed by us, which the understanding can embrace as one, and by means of any relations existing among them can consolidate into one, the will can resolve upon as one. So that the ac- tion, dependent upon volition, may be the mere movement of the foot or finger ; or it may be the continuous labours of a day, a- week, or a year, or some long and perilous expedi- tion by land or sea. It is just as proper to say, that a man wills to take a voyage to England, as to say that he wills to put one foot before the other, in stepping from his door to the street. Volition may exist, in the second place, in respect to any thing and every thing, which is truly dependent upon us, however circuitous and remote that dependence may be. It is proper to say, that a merchant has determined or will- ed to fit a vessel or a number of vessels for sea, and to send them to different parts of the' world, although his own direct and personal agency in the thing is hard- ly known. The effect of his volition, extending far be- yond his own direct and personal capabilities, controls the acts of a multitude of individuals who ' are dependent on him. Previous to the celebrated expedition of Napo- leon into Russia, undoubtedly that distinguished warriour had brought all the objects, relative to the intended ex- pedition, distinctly before his understanding ; the number and the kinds of troops, the arms and amunition with which 78 VOLITIONS OR they were to be furnished, the means of subsistence in the various countries through which they were to pass, and the expenses incident to the arming and support of a body so numerous. The action of the intellect enabled him to assim- ilate and combine this vast complexity of objects into one. Although numberless in its parts and details, it assumed, as it passed before the rapid glances of his understanding, an identity and oneness, which, for all the purposes of volition and action, constituted it one thing. And accordingly it is altogether proper to say, that Napoleon purposed, deter- mined, or ivilled the expedition into Russia, although the agencies, requisite to carry it into effect, were not lodged directly in himself, but in millions of subordinate instru- ments, that were more or less remotely dependent upon him. — " It is not necessary, (says a recent writer in remarking upon this very subject,) to consider volition as directing merely our own physical powers. Any power, of which wealth, rank, or character gives us the command, is as truly the instrument of our will, as a hand or a foot. The despot, who leads forth his armies of obsequious slaves to overthro *v cities and desolate empires, as truly wills these events as to move a finger, or change an attitude."* §. 42. Volitions may exist with various degrees of strength. There is one additional characteristic of volitions, worthy of some notice ; viz, that the volition does not always exist with the same degree of force. Undoubtedly every one must have been conscious, that the exercise of the voluntary power is more prompt and energetic at some times than oth- ers. We are aware, that it is liable to be objected to this statement, that if we will do a thing, there can be nothing less than the volition ; and that it is necessarily the same un- * Essay on Moral Freedom by Thomas T. Crybbace, Sect. II. VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. 79 der all circumstances. And it is undoubtedly true, that we never will to do an act with any thing less than a volition; and that, if there he any act of the Avill at all, it is one truly and fully so. That is to say, the act is in all cases the same, as far as its intrinsic nature is concerned. And yet we may confidently urge, there is no inconsistency in saying, that it may exist with different degrees of force. The existence of a mental state, which is always the same in its nature, in different degrees, is not peculiar to volition . The same trait is characteristic of the mental act in all cases where we yield our assent or belief. The state of mind, which we ■ denominate belief, is undoubtedly always the same in its nature, but admitting of various de- grees. We determine these differences of strength in the feeling by means of that same internal consciousness, which assures us of the existence of the mere feeling itself. In other words, we are conscious of, or feel our belief to be some- times weaker and at other times stronger, which we express by various terms, such as presumption, probability, high probability, and certainty. And by appealing in the same way to our consciousness of what takes place within, we shall probably come to the conclusion, that we put forth the act of volition with much greater strength at some times than others ; that at some times it is so feeble as hardly to be distinguished from a mere desire or wish, and is scarcely recognized as a volition, while at other times it is exceed- ingly marked and energetic. §. 43-. Causes of the variation of the strength of the voluntary exercise. It may tend to throw some light on the nature of the varie- ties or degrees in the energy of the voluntary act, if we make a remark or two in explanation of the causes of them. We do 80 VOLITIONS OR not, however, intend to say any thing here of original or constitutional differences of the -voluntary power. We set that topic aside for the present, because we shall find here- after a more suitable opportunity, where we can pursue it at length. The degree of strength in the voluntary act, consid- ered independently of any constitutional differences which may perhaps exist, will be found to depend on various causes, two of which are particularly worthy of notice! — In the first place, as volitions cannot exist except in respect to those things which we believe to be in our power, the strength of the volition will naturally be in proportion to the strength of such belief. It has already been seen, that, where there is no belief of an object's being attainable, there can be no vo- lition ; and we should, therefore, conclude a priori, that the natural tendency of a diminution of belief would be to ope- erate a correspondent diminution of the voluntary energy. Accordingly we find it to be generally the fact, that, when- ever the possibility of securing any object in view is deci- dedly doubtful, the voluntary act, imbibing a sort of conta- gious hesitancy, becomes wavering and weak. We may ac- cordingly lay it down as a general truth, that the strength of volitions will depend, in part at least, on the probability of securing the object placed before us. We do not mean to say, that there is necessarily no energy of volition, where one's path is hedged up with doubts and difficulties, for it is not unfrequently otherwise ; but merely to assert, that the tendency of such doubts and difficulties is, all other things being equal, to infuse, into such energy a mixture of vacil- lancy and lassitude. And hence it is a common artifice, if a man wishes to shake another's resolution, to represent to him the difficulties in the way of his success, and to insist on the improbability of his securing the object before him. And if we notice carefully, we shall find it to be generally true, VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. QI although it may not always be the case, that a person's efforts will become enfeebled and less energetic, in proportion as he yields credence to such discouraging statements. And a dim- inution of active efforts of course implies a diminution of voluntary power. ? (2) The strength of the volition will depend, further- more, upon the state of the Sensibilities. If, for instance, our desires are strongly directed towards a particular object, and if there be no antagonist feeling arising up to obstruct and counteract them, it may be expected that the volition will be proportionably strong. And if it happen in any given case, that these strong desires are approved and aided by the feelings of obligation, the motive to action will thus be greatly increased, and the force of the voluntary deter- mination or resolve will be likely to be increased in propor- tion. And if it be the case, that there is not only a con- currence of the obligatory feelings .with the desires, but that the feelings of obligation as well as the desires are in- tense and energetic, it may reasonably be anticipated, that the energy of the voluntary act.will still further be aug- mented. In regard to the Sensibilities, it is enough briefly to add here,that the degree of their. intensity will vary from various circumstances. Those differences of vividness and strength, ■ which we notice from time to time, may be owing to some constitutional difference in persons, as we have already in the preceding chapter had occasion to see. Sometimes the acuteness and vigor of the sensibilities is found to vary also from accidental causes, which cannot be easily explained. And in particular, they will generally vary, in the intensity of their action, with the amount and character of our knowl- edge, conforming themselves in a great measure to the pre- cise position, whatever it may be, of the intellect. 11 82 VOLITIONS OR §. 44. Of preference or indifferency as applicable to the will. In some treatises on the Will, much is said of the will's being in a state of preference or of indifferency. But it is questionable, whether the terms preference and indifferency are properly applicable to the will at all. The prominent characteristic of the will is movement, determination, or ac- tion, and not feeling. There is no more of feeling, no more of sensibility in the Will than in the Intellect. But every one knows, that we do not apply the terms preference and indifference to the intellect ; to the acts of judgment and reasoning ; to the mere process of comparison and deduc- tion. So far as these acts are purely intellectual, and with- out any tincture from the sensibilities, they are perfectly cool and unimpassioned. And one is not more so than another ; but all are unimpassioned alike. The emotion, desire, and passion, which are sometimes plausibly ascribed to them, are not to be regarded as, in any case, the compo- nents or constituents of the intellectual acts, but merely the attendants. No man says, that he has a preference, or that he is indifferent, whether he shall believe the equality of the three angles of a triangle to two right ones. This is a mat- ter, where both preference and indifference, choice and refu- sal are alike inadmissible. He is impelled by the very con- stitution of his nature to believe, if there is evidence ; and on the other hand he is utterly unable to believe, if evidence is wanting ; and in all cases his belief necessarily corres- ponds with the evidence, being greater or less, in accord- ance with it. But indifferency and preference are equally inapplica- ble to the Will, although it may not be so obvious at first. A careful examination will hardly fail to convince one, that these terms are properly and emphatically applica- VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. 38 ble to the heart or sensibilities ; to that portion of our na- ture, which is the appropriate seat of the emotions and de- sires, of the various forms of delight and sorrow, of love and hatred. It would naturally be expected, therefore, since the intellect has nothing in its distinctive nature in common with the will, and neither of them have any thing in their distinctive nature in common with the sensibilities, if indif- ference and preference are properly and peculiarly applica- ble to the sensibilities, that they would not be properly and strictly applicable to the will and the intellect. It belongs to the heart to prefer, desire, or love ; or to be indifferent, to be averse from, t*o contemn, or hate: But the appropri- ate business of the will is merely to decide, to determine, to act ; expressions, which, together with many others, are ap- plied to the voluntary power,, but all with the same import. It ought perhaps to be added, that these statements are made in reference to the common and well understood mean- ing of the terms in question. If it could be shown, that in- difference implies merely a negation of action ; in other words if it merely expresses the fact of not acting in any given emergency, then indeed we might admit, that the term is applicable to the will. But it will probably be conceded that the term is not commonly, although it is sometimes used to express mere absence or want of action, but rather the absence or want of emotion and desire. And it is in this sense, and not in that of a mere negation of action, that we assert its inapplicability to an exercise of the will, CHAPTER FIFTH DISTINCTION BETWEEN DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. §. 4"). Of an objection sometimes made to the general arrangement. In making the general classification of intellectual, senti- ent, and voluntary states of the mind, it is necessarily in- volved, that we separate volitions, which constitute the third class, from desires, which are in included in and make a part of the second. Of the correctness of this general ar- rangement, in its great features, we cannot permit ourselves to doubt, with the various proofs in its support, which pre- sent themselves from all sides. But it cannot be denied, that, in one respect, which we now proceed to notice, it has not been perfectly satisfactory. We refer to the objection sometimes made and urged with confidence, that, although volitions may clearly be distinguished from intellections and also from emotions, they are not so easily distinguished from that portion of the Sensibilities, which are denominated the desires* Indeed by some writers they have been con- sidered the same as desires ; and their claim to a distinct and independent nature has been wholly rejected. DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 85 As the general arrangement, which has been proposed, is a fundamental one, and is absolutely essential and indispen- sable to a true knowledge of the will, it is proper to attempt, not only to establish it by direct proofs in its favour, but to meet and obviate any objections, which may have been made against it, whether those objections relate to the ar- rangement as a whole or to any of its parts. The objection, which has been referred to, is one of special importance ; and we shall proceed to bestow that notice upon it, which its prominence claims for it. We speak of it as important, be- cause it is undoubtedly true, that much of the obscurity, which has rested upon the whole subject of our voluntary nature, has been owing to a mistake here. And obscurity will exist, as long as the mistake continues. We may even assert with confidence, that the greatest minds will fail of bringing the important inquiries, involved in this discussion, to a satisfactory conclusion, without first fully and correctly settling this point, viz, that the state of mind, which we term volition, is entirely distinct from that, which we term desire. §. 40. Probable cause of desires and volitions being confounded. Before proceeding to propose our comments on the ob- jection before us, we may properly make the remark, that it is, on the whole, not extraordinary, that this tendency to confound volitions with the desires, should exist. We always find it difficult to separate . and discriminate those things, which have been long and strongly associated. Now it is well known that volitions and desires are in fact very closely united together, as antecedences and sequences. By the very constitution of our minds they go together, and are the sequents and precursors of each other. We do not mean to say or to intimate, that the acts of the voluntary 8g DISTINCTION BETWEEN power are based upon the desires alone, exclusive of every other possible motive or ground of its exercise. But it is undoubtedly true, that the desires constitute the sole antece- dent causes of volition, (by which we mean the sole grounds or occasions of volition,) in a multitude and perhaps a ma- jority of cases. In the discharge of the common duties of life, in those every day matters which concern what we shall eat and with what we shall be clothed, it is undeniable, that we generally choose those things and pursue that course of conduct, which are most pleasing, and which most strongly excite our desires. In far the greater number of these cases the moral part of our nature furnishes no conflicting motive and presents no obstacle, because the course, which our daily necessities prompt us to take, is not necessarily of a char- acter to require the interposition of the moral power. There are appetites and propensities, which have their natural and appropriate objects, and which,in the pursuit of those objects in accordance "with the original intentions of nature, have no more of moral character, of merit or demerit, than the instincts, desires, and propensities of the lower animals. And still these appetites and propensities are very necessary parts of our mental constitution, and lay the foundation of a large portion of men's actions. And accordingly in all these ' cases desires and volitions are the antecedents and sequences of each other. Occupied, therefore, with various interesting and necessary objects of every day's occurrence, busied with the pressing cares of each returning hour, it could not well be expected, that men should delay upon and carefully discriminate the succession of mental acts. And as {his succession, in the case of desires and volitions, is not only exceedingly frequent, but, for the reasons just men- tioned, very rapid, (so much so in fact as hardly to furnish any basis for remembrance,) we gradually fall into the habit DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 87 of confounding the two together, and at last come to be- lieve, that there is in truth no difference between them. §. 47. The distinction of desires and volitions asserted by consciousness. With the single further remark, that the tendency, men- tioned in the preceding section, to confound together these two states of mind, ought to be carefully guarded against, we proceed to the consideration of somethings, clearly evin- cing the distinction between them which we maintain to exist. And the inquiry naturally presents itself here, as in respect to every other mental state, How do we obtain a knowledge of either of them? If we consult our consciousness, which is an original and aufhoritative source of knowledge, we find it decisively ascribing to.the desires a distinct existence, and a distinct and specific character. If we consult it again, we find it returning an answer with equal decision and clear- ness, that volitions too have an existence and a character equally distinct and specific. But if consciousness asserts, in both cases, the reality of an existence stamped with a spe- cific and distinctive character, it does not and cannot in those same cases assert a oneness or identity. On the contrary, it must be considered as decisively pronouncing an entire separation of the two things, however nearly they may sometimes approach each other. And it seems proper, when we consider the difficulties that have attended these inquiries, to insist upon this testi- mony from within. It is. exceedingly desirable, that every one should reflect carefully and patiently upon the nature of desire and the nature of volition, as they present themselves to our internal notice in those various circumstances of en- ticement and temptation and action, in which we daily find ourselves placed. Those cases in particular deserve notice, 88 DISTINCTION BETWEEN which not unfrequently occur, where the volitions exist, and where we resolve to carry our plans into effect, in disregard of certain opposing desires, which have been overruled and baffled. Has not every man had this experience ? When under the influence of high moral sentiments, has he not sometimes determined to pursue a course to the disap- pointment, of many fond wishes, of many lingering and cher- ished desires ? Now let him recal the mental feelings and acts at such times, let him carefully reflect upon them, and will not consciousness not only clearly indicate a distinction, but even assert the impossibility of an identity in the case under consideration ? We cannot entertain a doubt, that it will. §. 48. Desires differ from volitions in fixedness and permanency. There is one particular, on which our consciousness gives its testimony, which it is thought may be easily and clearly pointed out. Every one must have felt, that our desires possess a considerable degree of fixedness or permanency •, and that they are distinguished and separated from volitions by this trait. We are able to change, our volitions with great rapidity 5 if we may so express it, in the twinkling of an eye." We may alter them a thousand times a day. W"ithin their allotted sphere of operation, there are no immutable lines, and angles, by which their action is restricted ; but on the contrary we find an astonishing quickness, flexibility, and variety in their movements. We make this as a general statement, without pretending that there are no exceptions. — But while this is obviously trUe of the volitions, there does not appear to be the same flexibility, the same facility of movement in our desires. We may indeed change them after a time, and ultimately secure a greater or less degree of conformity to what we conceive they ought to be. But DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 89 they are so slow in movement, so heavy and refractory in the mutations they undergo, that they remind us rather of a burden to be borne, than of a living principle of elasticity and vigour. We believe, that this statement will be easily and clearly understood. Can the man, who is in prison, suppress in a moment and without an effort, his desires to see his beloved family ? Can he, who is an exile and a wanderer in a dis- tant land, easily cease to remember, and to long for the woods and the green fields and the mountain airs of his childhood ? Every one must know, when a desire is once deeply implanted in the heart, how long it lingers, how hard it is to be overcome . But a fixedness of the desires in a particular direction does not necessarily imply a fixedness of the volition in the same direction. The will may be active, when certain desires are immovable, because there may be other objects of desire, laying the foundation of its various de- cisions, or there may be objects of a moral nature, presenting a still higher and nobler motive. When the heart is sick and heavy and burdened, the purpose and high resolve may be elas- tic and full of energy. Except under certain marked and extra- ordinary circumstances, some of which will hereafter be point- ed out, we are never conscious of that immovableness of the voluntary power, and that want of elasticity, which often attend the desires. But these statements, which we presume to say are founded on the common experience, can- not be true, if desires and volitions are identical. §. 49. Further proof of this distinction from language. May it not also be said with a good degree of confidence, that, in the use of language, we have a further proof of the distinction between desire and volition ? It is certainly the fact, that men commonly speak, both in their ordinary con- versation and in writing, in such a manner as to imply their 12 90 DISTINCTION BETWEEN conviction of a distinction between mere desires or wishes on the one hand, and purposes, resolves, or determinations on the other. As this distinction, so easily and frequently observed, may be found prevalent, not in one only but in all languages, it may well be regarded as a strong evidence of the universal consciousness on the subject. This fact has been noticed, and set in a strong light by Dr. Reid. — "De- sire and will agree in this, that both must have an object, of which we must have some conception ; and, therefore, both must be accompanied with some degree of understand- ing. But they differ in several things. The object of desire may be any thing, which appetite, passion, or affection leads us to pursue ; it may be any event, which we think good for us, or for those, to whom we are well affected. I may desire meat, or drink, or ease from pain ; but to say that I will meat, or will drink, or will ease from pain, is not Eng- lish. There is therefore a distinction in common language between desire and will." §. 50. Sentiments of esteem and honour often imply this distinction. It will further be seen on a little reflection, that the dis- tinction under consideration is implied in the sentiments of esteem and honour, which on various occasions we enter- tain in respect to others. It seems to be the fact, that we often bestow esteem and honour on a person, because he has resisted and withstood the obvious tendency of his own inclinations or desires. We will take a very common in- stance, that of the confirmed drunkard. The wine sparkles before him ; his tongue and throat are parched, and the strongest desires arise. But conscience at the same time urges upon him the claims of his family, his country, and his God. After enduring this inward conflict for a season, DESIRES AND| L VOLITIgONS. 91 he resolves, he wills, he acts, and dashes the alluring bowl to the ground. Every one rejoices at, and honours the deed. But it cannot be because the desire has been grati- fied ; but because the person has willed and acted against desire ; because, in the opposing array and contest of the powers of his inferiour nature, desire has been beaten, and the sense of obligation and duty has triumphed by the award of the only possible umpire, viz, the will. We evidently make a distinction, in all such cases, between the cravings of a man's appetite which necessarily involve desire, and the act of volition, by which the tendency of such desire is counteracted. This illustration reminds us of an additional statement of Dr. Reid on this subject. — "With regard to our actions, he remarks, we may desire what we do not will, and will what we do not desire , nay what we have a great aversion to. A man a-thirst has a strong desire to drink, but, for some par- ticular reason, he determines not to gratify his desire. A judge, from a regard to justice and the duty of his office, dooms a criminal to die, while from humanity or particular affection, he desires that he should live. A man for health may take a nauseous draught, for which he has no desire, but a great aversion. Desire, therefore, even when its ob- ject is some action of our own, is only an excitement to the will, but is not volition. The determination of the mind may be not to do what we desire to."* §. 51. Of some stricturesj)n the foregoing remarks of Reid. We are not ignorant that this very passage of Dr. Reid has called forth some strictures, the object of which is to * Essays on the Active Powers of Man, Essay II, Chap. 1. 92 DISTINCTION BETWEEN show, that its statements are in some respects defective. It has hcen contended, that, in the instances ahovc adduced by Dr. Reid, the volition has reference to the muscular motion and to that alone. In respect to the judge, who pronounces the doom of his prisoner, it is maintained hy the objector, that the judicial announcement is the result of volition, so far and so far only as volition puts certain muscles in motion ; and that all such acts of volition are identical in their nature with desires. And a like view is maintained to hold good of all similar cascs,viz, That no volition exists except in respect to the muscular action which immediately follows, and that such volition is not different from desire. Upon views of this kind, we have two remarks to make. In the first place, if we were to admit the correctness of limiting the application of volition to the production of mere muscular motion, still it would not follow, that volition and desire arc identical. But ou the contrary in regard to mus- cular motion, as in all other cases, we may confidently assert, that they arc entirely distinct from each other, although we arc ready to admit they do not stand in opposition. It is undoubtedly true, that we are sometimes liable to confound with the desires those volitions, which have no higher office than the mere regulation of the muscles, in consequence of their being in the same direction, and the volition being in suc- cession to the desire, & both existing perhaps in a very slight degree. Still we may safely appeal to everyone's conscious- ness, whenever he bestows a suitable examination on the subject, whether he is not able, even in very slight instan- ces of muscular movement, to draw a distinction between the desire and the volition. The desire to move the muscles of the foot or hand or throat may have existed for minutes or hours, but till the volition came there was no motion ; nor had the desire the least possible tendency to secure the mo- DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 93 tion, except through the medium of volition. A man goes from his house to his counting room ; and it is readily ad- mitted, that he puts forth various acts of volition, that he wills to arise from his chair, that he ivills to open the door of his house, to set one foot before another, and that all his muscular movements are preceded by volitions. And we may admit also, that he had a desire to put forth these suc- cessive acts ; but it does not at all follow, that the volitions were identical with the desires, any more than that they were identical with the various sensations and perceptions, which existed at the same time. On the contrary, in all instances whatever, the distinction between the two exists, although it may be less obvious at some times than others. The de- sire, (the same as in other analogous cases of a higher kind,) is merely the forerunner and preparative of whatever is to be done; the distinct act of volition is necessary to the exe- cution of it. §. 52. Volition may exist in respect to those complex acts which the mind can embrace as one. But we remark, in the second place, as we had occasion to show in the preceding chapter, that there may be volition in respect to combined action and plans of action, as well as in respect to single acts. He, who supposes that volition is exercised solely and exclusively in reference to the motion of the muscles, must have a very inadequate notion of the sphere, in which this part of the mind is called to operate. This view will seem the more admissible, when we consider, that we have it in our power to give a mental unity to ac- tions, which, as they are successively brought to their fulfil- ment, are many, and are distinct from each other. It is pre- sumed that the existence of this ability will not be denied. Dr. Brown himself, in whose writings the strictures on the V 94 DISTINCTION BETWEEN views of Dr. Reid are found, acknowledges, that we can give an unity in our conception to things which are com- plex. " In considering, (he remarks,) the physical changes, which come under our view, it is impossible for us, in many cases, not to give a sort of unity, in our conception, to phe- nomena, which are in their nature complex. We consider them, as in some measure one ; because, however complex they may truly be, they exhibit to us one great general character."* And we may add, that we are capable of giv- ing an Unity to moral objects of whatever kind, as well as to physical, if there be any possible relation of time or place or resemblance or effect or cause, which the mind can detect and employ as a ligament for this purpose. We repeat, that this capability of combining, by a mere mental act, many into one, of converting multiplicity into unity, is not less true of intellectual and moral changes than of physical ; and in many cases both are included. A man, for instance, contemplates going a journey ; he examines all the circumstances, which may have a bearing on his proposed expedition ; and combines, by the various ope- rations of the intellect, the whole into one view. This complex object is addressed, not in its parts, but as a whole, to the sensibilities. It excites the various forms of desire, and the feelings of obligation ; and these are followed by volition. In all cases of this kind the mind is capable of acting, and in point of fact it generally does act, in reference to the whole object. The volition may be in accordance with the desire or not ; it may be in accordance with the moral feelings, and wholly at variance with the desires ; but in both alike the desires and volitions are distinct. And these views hold good not only in the case just now remarked upon of the man, who dashes from him the intoxicating bowl; but * Relation of Cause and Effect, Part I, §. 3, Pt. II, §. 3. DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 95 of the judge,, who is called, in the discharge of his duties, to pass sentence of death on an accused person. He undoubt- edly takes into view the action in its whole extent, in all its results. As it exists in the view of his intellect, it is one action, though made up of various subordinate parts; and the question, placed distinctly before him and subject to his own dispensation, is one of life and death. And we may assert with confidence, the true state of his mind in ordinary cases is, that he desires the accused person to live, but ivills him to die ; and that the desire and volition are not only distinct from each other, but are opposed to each other. The fact is, there are two conflicting principles within him, the desires on the one hand, and the feelings of moral obligation on the other. These both are in immediate contact with the will ; that is to say, have a direct influence upon it. In act- ing in conformity with the moral motive, he acts against the desire ; and an act which is against desire, whether that ac- tion be mental or bodily, cannot with any propriety of terras be said to be identical with it. §. 53. If the distinction in question do not exist, the founda- tion of morals becomes unsettled. There is another and important point of view, in which this subject may be considered. — It is a common, and certain- ly a just opinion, that conscience, as we have already inti- mated, sometimes controls our actions, in distinction from desires. We not unfrequently hear it said of this or that man, that he acts from the dictates of conscience ; and with- out any disposition to object to the justness of the remark. But if the volition is always coincident with the highest de- sire, this language is evidently founded on a mistake ; and the authority of conscience becomes a nullity. The two great sources of human actions, viz, the moral sentiments 96 DISTINCTION BETWEEN and feelings of obligation on the one hand, and the various forms of desire on the other, are, on this theory, reduced to one. Now when we consider, that not unfrequeufly the de- sires,existing in the hearts of men, are impregnated with in- ordinate selfishness or malignity and are morally evil, the assertion, that there is, and can be no volition, except what is identical with the highest desire, is certainly a hazardous one, and seems to undermine all moral distinctions. These remarks are made on the supposition, that we fully admit the existence of that department of our nature, which we variously denominate either the moral sense or the con- science. It is presumed, that no one will be disposed to deny either the existence or the practical utility of such a moral power. But if conscience is of any value, it is because the feelings of obligation resulting from it furnish a motive to volition, and become at times its antecedent and necessary, or rather its prerequisite condition ; and because the motive thus furnished is different from that presented by the appe- tites, propensities, and passions. But if volition is always and invariably identical with some form of desire, then noth- ing can be more unmeaning aud useless and delusory, than the apparatus of conscience and of feelings of obligation, which so evidently exists. They furnish,on that supposition, a mere show of authority without any actual good results. So that we have great reason to assert, that the doctrine, ■which makes volition always and necessarily identical with the highest desire, tends to annihilate our moral nature. If we are not erroneous in our. construction of it, it places man, in a moral point of view, on the same footing with brute animals. We never condemn a brute, that yields to i'ts de- sires as guilty of a crime. And why not ? Because it has no conscience, no moral sense ; and of course there is no basis of its actions except in its desires ; and therefore in DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 97 acting, in accordance with its desires, it acts in conformity with its nature, and fulfils the destiny allotted it. But it is not so with man. He has within him not only desires, but feel- ings of moral obligation ; and if ever in any assignable case he wills and acts in accordance with those moral feelings and in opposition to his desires, then his volitions and desires are not the same. §. 54. Instances in illustration of the distinction in question. We think we might bring many instances to illustrate the distinction under consideration, and which not only illus- trate, but tend to prove its existence. The parental relation will furnish to those at least, who have experienced the strength of affection incident to it, an illustration of the mat- ter before us. The tenderly beloved child commits some fault or crime under such circumstances as to render him in- excusable, and the father punishes him. Every father knows that the infliction of punishment in such cases is attended with a war in his own bosom ; the strong feeling of obliga- tion, which an enlightened conscience has laid the foundation of, drawing him one way, and the yearnings of parental af- fection enticing him another ; and it does not appear that any thing can still this commotion, and secure the suprema- cy of his moral nature, but the energetic and authoritative effort of the will. Let us apply these views to the case of the patriarch Abraham, when he was called, in the administration of the divine providence, to offer up his son Isaac amid the forests of Mount Moriah. Will any one presume to say, that, when the aged father stood with his knife extended over the bared bosom of his only son, there was no contest within him, no earnest and almost overpowering longing for his rescue ? Did not his affection kindle with tenfold ardour, when his dar- 13 93 DISTINCTION BETWEEN ling boy asked him, with the simplicity of untaught and con- fiding childhood, where is the lamb for the burnt offering ? While desire for the child's safety existed at the highest point of intensity, there were other high and sacred princi- ples of action, and in view of them, the power of volition, collecting all its strength, smote through the torrents of affection, as the rod of Moses divided the troubled waters of the sea. If any should be disposed to object here, on the ground that Abraham was sustained by religious principles, which are not given to ordinary men, at least in an equal degree, it might be proper to reply, without conceding any special weight to the objection, that many similar instances can be brought forward. They abound in all parts of history. When the sons of Lucius Junius Brutus conspired against the Roman republic, they were justly condemned to die. It became the duty of the father to see the punishment enforc- ed. Can any one doubt that there was a contest, "a tug of war," in the soul of that noble Roman ? The historian in- forms us, that this struggle was visible in his countenance, (eminente animo palrio inter publicce pcence ministerium,) as he stood at the dreadful scene of the execution . But if desire and volition are the same thing, where was the foundation for such inward contest ? If the desire was coincident with the volition, if the latter was lost and absorbed in the for- mer, there must have been a calm within and without ; there could not possibly have been an agitation, dissidence, and rending asunder of the interiour nature. §. 55. Additional instances in illustration and proof . If it were thought necessary, Ave could easily bring for- ward, from the history of the same remarkable people, even stronger and more decisive instances, than that touching DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 99 event which has just been adduced. One or two, at least, may repay a moment's attention. During the fatal period of the Roman, decemvirship, certain transactions took place, which', while they agitated the whole city of Rome with sentiments of grief and indignation, infused the deepest horror and despair into the heart of a worthy father. His affections were bound up in a beloved daughter, w"ho was insidiously assailed by one of the most powerful magistrates, in a manner which left no hope of deliverance. In this situ- ation, seeing his daughter exposed to unavoidable and un- speakable infamy, he seized the knife of a butcher, and plunged it into her bosom. And is it possible for us to say, with any propriety of language, that Virginus desired the death of his daughter ? The whole history of the transaction shows, that he doated upon her with all the depth and sac- redness of parental love. The assertion, therefore, is in- credible. He could not have desired it ; human nature spurns the thought as an impossibility ; and yet he too fatally willed it. He considered her life as but dust in the balance in comparison with the loathsome degradation, which was so cruelly threatened by one whom he had no power to resist ; and in putting her to death he willed and executed what at the same time he lamented and abhorred as in itself a most terrible and overwhelming calamity. §. 56. The subject further illustrated by the. voluntary death of the Saguntines, And when we read a little further in the same eloquent historian, who has given us the narrative of Brutus and of Virginius, we come to the deeply interesting story of the Iberus and Saguntum. Every thing depended upon one short sentence. "Pass not the Iberus !" The Romans in- sisted upon this as a boundary, which Carthage should not 100 DISTINCTION BETWEEN pass. Nevertheless the Carthaginian commander had his plans of aggrandizement ; the Iherus proved but a feeble barrier ; and Saguntum was fiercely attacked. After a des- perate conflict, the city was taken, and many of the inhabi- tants, rather than fall into the hands of their enemy, fired their houses over their own heads, and with their wives and children perished in the flames* But can we with propriety say, that these intolerable sufferings, the burning of their own bodies, and the burning of their children and dearest friends in the same horrid con- flagration, was a matter of desire ? It was far from this. They desired and loved life, and revolted at suffering, as much as other men. But they had formed the resolution to live free or die ; and had further resolved to undergo all the evils incident to that resolution, however intense, however dread- ful in the experience. They could not rise to glory but on flames of fire, but the greatness of the consummation re- conciled them to the dreadful nature of the terms. Their de- sires would have given them life and enjoyment at least, and perhaps even on the condition of slavery ; but the ascenden- cy of the will, which was secured by motives higher than any considerations of mere personal and immediate good, gave them burnings, liberty, and renown. And these are not insulated and solitary instances. They are to be found in all ages and- climes and nations, and among all classes of men. In the republic of Rome, there was probably not a day during five hundred years, when individuals could not have been found, who were willing, like Regulus and the celebrated Decii, to endure every form of suffering even to death itself for their honour and the good of their country. And only fitting circumstances are wanting in order to show, that it is the same in every other country, and under every form of government. Human na- *Livy, Lib. xxi, §. 13. DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 101 ture is every where the same, both for good and evil. If any of its elements appear less decidedly in one country than in another, it is not because they are withheld in their origin, but are suppressed in their growth. But poor, indeed, would human nature be, neither honoured nor honourable in any sit- uation, if there were not in men some principles of action, not only distinct from the desires, but able on suitable occa- sions to bring them into subjection. Let it be remembered, that there is no foundation or characteristic of true greatness separable from a disposition to give up all private and per- sonal good in favour of the nobler objects of the general and moral good, whenever private and public good come de- cidedly in conflict ; and evidently this is a condition, which would seldom or rather never be realized, if the will could never act and decide in opposition to the desires. §. 57. Of the chastisements of the Supreme Being inflicted on those he loves. There is one consideration more. — May we not draw light down upon this subject from an observation of the course which our adorable Creator takes in his dealings with his creatures ? Throughout the Holy Scriptures we find expressions, which indicate the strongest love towards them, when, at the same time, he is compelled to inflict his chastise- ments. The Old Testament is full of expressions of kind- ness and tenderness towards his ancient people. " He nour- ished and brought them up as children ;" "he led them about, instructed them, and kept them as the apple of his eye." In their rebellions he calls after them with unspeakable affec- tion. " How shall I give thee up, Ephraim ? How shall I deliver thee, Israel ? How shall I make thee as Admah ? How shall I set thee as Zeboim ? Mine heart is turned within me, my repentings are kindled together !" But, al- 103 DISTINCTION BETWEEN though he loved them with all the intensity of a father's af- fection, still the eternal principles of his nature compelled him to exercise his benevolence in subordination to the sen- timents of justice. When his people rebelled, and did not listen to his warnings, he gave them over to dreadful pun- ishments. He poured upon Israel the fury of his anger, the strength of battle, and set him on fire round about. But, although he willed the wasting and desolation and sufferings of his people, (for he says, "who gave Jacob for a spoil, and Israel to the robbers ? Did not the Lord ?") we do not feel at liberty to say, that he desired it, for every thing in the Old Testament shows, that it greatly grieved him. And who does not recollect the affecting language of the Saviour, uttered over the Holy City ? "Oh Jerusalem, Je- rusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee !" And yet soon afterwards the sign of the Son of man appeared in heaven ; the sun and the moon were darkened ; the earth mourned ; there was fam- ine, pestilence, and earthquake ; of the beloved and beautiful Temple not one stone was left upon another ; and all Jeru- salem, that delight of the whole earth, was bathed in blood and wrapped in fire. — Not because the Saviour had ceased to love it, and to desire its good, but because the measure of its iniquity was full, and the dictates of eternal justice compelled him to will and to inflict a punishment, which a being so infinitely benevolent could never .have desired to see. — And does he not s£t this moment truly desire the re- turn and salvation of every sinner ? Does he not earnestly entreat them ? And when he shall inflict on these same sin- ners unutterable chastisements on account of their obduracy, will it be because he ceases to love, or because immutable justice requires it ? . • On this subject we cannot refrain from adding in un- DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 103 feigned sincerity, that sound philosophy requires the Bible to he understood as it stands, in its ohvious import, and as it would he interpreted hy an unlettered reader. In the great outlines of his mental constitution, it is strictly and emphatically true,as Scripture informs us, that man is formed in the image of his Maker. And it is as true of God as of man, that there are elements in his nature, which lead him to determine or will that, which He does not desire. It nei- ther is nor can he true of God, that He ever desires the infliction of punishment, though the obduracy of transgres- sors often leads him to will it. To desire the infliction of misery in any way whatever, in the strict and original sense of the word desire, is the characteristic of an evil and not of a good being. It is the height of impiety to attempt to per- vert the often repeated and earnest expressions of the Su- preme Being on this subject. "As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his ways and live." §. 58. Objected that these views lead to contradictions. If it were deemed of consequence enough, we might stop here to consider some objections chiefly of a verbal kind, of which it will perhaps answer all purpose to notice one,that may serve as a specimen of others. It being assumed, that every act of desire implies a preference or choice, and it being further said in way of definition, that volition is the act of choosing, we are then confronted with the obvious contradiction, that, if the volition is ever actually opposed to the desire, we choose what we do not choose, &c. This objection, perhaps a plausible one in the minds of some, will be found on examination to resolve itself into a verbal fal- lacy, and naturally vanishes as soon as that fallacy is de- tected. 104 DISTINCTION BETWEEN It is well known, that owing to the imperfection of lan- guage we not unfrequently apply the same terms to things, which, both in their nature and relations, are different from each other. Now it is undoubtedly true, that the common usage of language authorizes us to apply the terms choice and choosing indiscriminately to either the desire or the vo- lition ; but it does not follow, and is not true, that we apply them to these different parts of our nature in precisely the same sense. We sometimes use the word choice, when it obviously implies and expresses desire ; and the desire in this. case differs from desire in other cases, not in its nature, but only in the circumstance, that it is a desire, which pre- dominates over other desires existing in reference to other conflicting objects brought before the mind at the same time. That is to say, when the word choice implies desire at all, it has reference to a number of desirable objects brought before the mind at once, and implies and expresses the ascendant or predominant desire. It is that particular desire, in distinction from others, which we denominate our choice . At other times we use the term choice or choosing in application to the will ; but when we do so use it, we are to regard it, as modified by the nature of the subject, to which it is applied. The choice of the will is the same as the de- cision of the will ; and the decision of the will is the same as the act of the will. The word in question then, when it is applied to that power, expresses the mere act of the will, and nothing more, with the exception, as in the other case, that more than one object of volition was present in the view of the mind, before the putting forth of the voluntary act. In fact, it is the circumstance, that two or more objects are present, which suggests the use of the word choice or choosing in both cases' ; but Ave are not at all to suppose, that DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 105 the use of the word implies or involves a change in the na- ture, but only in the condition or circumstances of the men- tal act. The acts are entirely different in their nature, al- though under certain circumstances the same name is applied to them. When they are both called choice or acts of choice, they are indeed verbally, but not really identical. If these views are correct, (and we believe they be,) then the con- tradiction spoken of, whenever it takes place, is not a real, but merely a verbal one. If we ever choose against choos- ing, it will be found to be merely that choice, which is voli- tion, placed in opposition to that choice, which is desire ; a state of things, which, as we have already seen, not unfre- quently exists, and in which there is no incompatibility. §. 58. Opinions of Mr. Locke and others on this subject. We shall close this chapter with remarking, that the dis- tinction in question is more or less clearly recognized and sustained by a considerable number of writers, whose opin- ions, as they were given on mature deliberation, are entitled to great weight, particularly Sir James M'Intosh, Dr. Reid, Dr. Good, and Mr. Stewart. At an earlier period Mr. Locke also took the same ground in the following passage, which we commend to the careful consideration of the reader. — " I find the will often confounded with several of the affec- tions, especially desire, and one put for the other ; and that by men who would not willingly be thought not to have had very distinct notions of things, and not to have writ very clearly about them. This, I imagine, has been no small oc- casion of obscurity and mistake in this matter ; and there- fore is, as much as may be, to be avoided. For he, that shall turn his thoughts inwards upon what passes in his mind when he wills, shall see that the will or power of volition is conversant about nothing but that particular determination 14 103 DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. of the mind, whereby barely by a thought the mind endeav- ours to give rise, continuation, or stop, to any action which it takes to be in its power. This, well considered, plainly shows that the will is perfectly distinguished from desire ; which in the very same action may have a quite contrary tendency from that which our will sets us upon. A man, whom I cannot deny, may oblige me to use persuasions to another, which, at the same time I am speaking, I may wish may not prevail on him. In this case, it is plain the will and desire run counter. I will the action that tends one way, whilst my desire tends another, and that the direct contrary way. A man who by a violent fit of the gout in his limbs finds a doziness in his head, or a want of appetite in his stomach removed, desires to be eased too of the pain of his feet or hands (for wherever there is pain there is a de- sire to be rid of it) though yet, whilst he apprehends that the removal of the pain may translate the noxious humour to a more vital part, his will is never determined to any one action that may serve to remove this pain. Whence it is ev- ident that desiring and willing are two distinct acts of the mind ; and consequently that the will, which is but the pow- er of volition, is much more distinct from desire."* *Essay concerning Human Understanding, Bk. II, Chap. 21st. PAKT SECOND*. LAWS OF -THE WILL. CHAPTER FIRST, UNIVERSALITY OF LAW, §. 59. The preceding chapters preparatory to what follows. The remarks, that have been made in the Part First of this Work, relate to the general nature of the will. It seem- ed important to take this general view. It was obviously necessary, before entering into the examination of the long contested topics that are to follow, to settle the subject of the great outlines of the mind in its departments of the in- tellectual, sentient, and voluntary. And it seemed equally desirable, when we consider the mistakes that have prevailed upon that point, not only to assert and maintain the distinction existing between desire and volition, but to answer such objections as possessed any degree of plausibil- ity. Nor was this enough. It was further necessary to make some inquiry into those things, which not merely dis- tinguish the will from the other mental susceptibilities, but which are especially characteristic of it, and which contrib- ute to constitute its essential and distinctive nature . In 110 UNIVERSALITY «OF LAW. looking back upon what has been brought forward, we in- dulge the hope, perhaps however without sufficient founda- tion, that some doubts have been cleared up, and some prin- ciples satisfactorily established. The remarks thus necessa- rily made may indeed appear to have been protracted to an inordinate length 5 and we can only say in reply, if such is thought to be the case, that they were rendered as concise as seemed consistent with any adequate notice of the num- erous topics, that have come under review . And it seems to come in place to add here, that, in every thing which has been said, there has been an object. Every part of this Treatise will be found to be more or less connec- ted with other parts ; and perhaps more closely than would at first seem probable. And accordingly the doctrines and principles, which have been brought forward and more or less elucidated and established, are introductory to three distinct series of views of great interest in themselves, as well as of great practical importance, having relation respec- tively to the Laws, the Freedom, and the Power of the Will. These leading topics will be successively considered. §. 60. Of the importance of the topics now entered upon. In examining the matters of inquiry which are to follow, particularly the Laws and the Freedom of the will, we pre- sume to say, that we have a claim on the strict and candid attention of the reader. While few questions present them- selves to one's notice of greater interest than these, a regard to historical truth requires it to be added, that on few has there been a greater difference of opinion. These inquiries, moreover, which lie so closely at the root of human accounta- bility, are as important as they are interesting, not only in a speculative point of view and as presenting complicated and difficult problems for solution, but also on account of their UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. JU practical results. If a man, for instance, adopts the opinion, that there is no such thing as freedom of the will, and that men are the subjects of an irresistible fatality, it will gener- ally follow, that his practice will be correspondent to such a belief. Placing an erroneous interpretation on the words of Solomon, that " time and chance happen to all men," such persons throw themselves upon the wave of their destiny, and are floated onward with an utter disregard of -the issue, whether it be good Or evil, shameful or glorious. No mat- ter what takes place, say they ; it is all from a higher pow- er ; and it would be wholly ineffectual and presumptuous in mere insects to prescribe plans for the Deity. The greatest circumspection, the most arduous labours, the most invinci- ble determination will effect nothing against the allotted and predestined course of events. Philosophers may speculate, and political cabinets may lay their plans, but after all the fate of Europe may depend, as it has once depended, upon a dispute about a pair of gloves, or some other trivial circum- stance, which happens to form a link in the unalterable chain of destiny.* On the other hand, if a person fully believes, that all things are in his own power, in the sense of excluding a wise and efficient superintendency, it leads to a presumptu- ous self-confidence altogether unsuitable and dangerous. Puffed up with an unwarrantable self-conceit, he does not feel the need of asking aid from on high ; he does not con- form his conduct to the indications of divine Providence ; but lays his plans, and attempts their execution wholly in his own strength. These respective systems, when adopted to the exclusion of other views which might control and modify them, may * See the Prince of Machiavel, Chap. 25th, and Examen du Prince. 112 UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. justly be pronounced false and dangerous ; as inconsistent with sound philosophy as they are with private duty and the general good ; although it is undoubtedly true, that in all ages of the world they have been made the governing principle of multitudes. We are authorized, therefore, in saying that the particular subjects, on which we now propose to enter, are very important in a practical point, of view. It will be our desire to examine them with that care and can- dour, which their practical importance demands ; and with- out any undue expression of confidence, we would indulge the hope of placing them in a light at once consistent with the claims of God, and the responsibilities of man. §. 61. The inquiry, whether the will has its laws, preliminary to that of its freedom. In order to approximate the true notion of the Freedom of the will, an inquiry which will receive particular attention in its place, it seems proper to attempt the settlement of a preliminary question, viz, tvhether the will is subject to. laws. If it be true, as we shall introduce some considerations to show, that the will has its laws, then the freedom of the will, whatever may be its nature, must accommodate itself to this preliminary fact. We will assume here, that the will is free ; we have no disposition to dispute the correctness of that view ; undoubtedly its freedom is' susceptible of ample demonstration ; but if there be other mental facts equally demonstrable, then it follows that the freedom of the will must exist in accommodation to such other facts, and can be such a freedom and such only as is consistent with them. This, it would seem, is a very obvious view ; and hence it is exceedingly important, that this point should be settled first. It will accordingly now be our object to propose certain considerations to show, that the will has its laws. UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. 113 § . 62. Every thing throughout nature has its laws. In entering upon the question, whether the will has its laws, may we not reason, in the first place, from the general analogy of nature ? If the universe is every where legibly inscribed and written over with the great truth, that all things are' subject to law, are we not furnished with a strong presumption, that we shall not discover an exception in .any part of man's mental nature ? — As to the alledged fact, on which we base this presumption, there can be no doubt of it. Let us look in the first place at material things. The parts of the earth are kept in their relative position by the operation of some fixed law ; the various immense bodies, composing the system to which the earth belongs, are made to revolve in obedience to some unalterable princi- ple ; there is not even a plant or a stone or a falling leaf or a grain of sand, which can claim an exemption from regula- tion and control. And what is true in these few instances, is true in all. No certain and undoubted exception can be found. And this great truth holds good also of things, which have life and intelligence. Objects of a spiritual or mental nature, (if not in precisely the same sense in which the assertion is applicable to matter, yet in some true and important meaning of the expressions,) have their appropriate and determinate principles of being and action. There may, indeed, be some things, which are as yet unexplainable by man ; there may be some objects of knowledge, to the full understanding of whose nature limited human reason cannot as yet reach ; but still the vast majority of objects, coming within the ordinary range of our inspection, obviously tend to found and to foster the general conviction, that there are laws, wherever there are existences, whatever the kind or nature of the existence. There is, therefore, undoubted 15 114 UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. truth in the remark of Montesquieu, with which he intro- duces his great work on the Spirit of Laws, where he says, after some suggestions, on the meaning of the term, " all be- ings have their laws, the Deity his laws, the material world its laws, the intelligences superior to man their laws, the beasts their laws, man his laws." §. 63. Reference to remarks of Cicero on the universality of laic. The mention of Montesquieu, a name equally dear to let- ters and liberty, naturally suggests the recollection of some men of a kindred genius. The idea of the universality of law has ever been familiar to minds, that were particularly distin- guished for expansiveness of thought, and for philosophical sagaeity. They seem to have seized upon this great truth intuitively ; not by the sIoav deductions of reasoning, but by a sort of instinct of intellect. The illustrious orator of Rome among others asserts the existence of a law, which has its foundation in nature, and which is universal, uniform, and eternal. He declares God to be the author of it ; and adds, that no man can exempt himself from its con- trol, without fleeing from himself, and without putting off and alienating his own nature. It is of this law and in con- nection with these statements, that he employs those celebra- ted expressions, " nee erit alia lex Romas, alia Athenis, alia nunc, alia posthac, sed et omnes gentes et omni tempore una lex etsempiterna et immortalis continebit,unusque erit commu- nis quasi magister et imperator omnium Deus."* No person, who examines the whole of this remarkable passage with care, will fail to perceive, that its author had in his concep- tions the idea of a great central Power, possessed of perfect wisdom and justice, from whom emanates a paramount and controlling influence, which is binding upon nations as well *Cicero De Republica, Lib. III. UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. H5 as individuals, which extends to all parts of his dominions, making one of many, and harmonizing them all by requiring them to act in subjection to himself. §.64. Reference to remarks of Hooker on the universality of law. We cannot forbear introducing here, as in accordance with the sentiments of this chapter, the memorable expressions of Hooker, although at the risk of repeating what may already be familiar. "Of law, no less can be said, than that her seat is the bosom of God, her voice the harmony of the world ; all things in heaven and earth do her homage, the very least as feeling her care, the greatest as not exempted from her power; both angels and men, and creatures of what condition soever, though each in different spheres and manner, yet all with uniform consent admiring her as the mother of their peace and joy."* We cannot agree with those, who are disposed to set down this sublime passage, as a species of rhetorical exag- geration, an instance of sounding language rather than well adjusted thought ; but would rather regard it as the expression of a reality, uttered on the most sober consideration; a reality perhaps not perfectly visible and obvious to minds of little expansion, but of which undoubtedly the learned and eloquent writer had a clear and impressive perception. The great idea, which pervades the passage, is identical with that of Cicero; and is simply this, that law originates in the bosom of the Deity and is co-substantial with his nature ; and going forth from that primitive and prolific centre in every possible direc- tion like rays from the sun, it embraces and harmonizes all things,whether intelligent or unintelligent. And how full of grandeur and of consolation is the thought ! If we could sup- pose, that even a single unintelligent atom had broken loose * Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, Bk. I. 116 UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. from the infinite ramifications of the great principle of unity, which is only another name for that law which hinds one existence to another and both to a third and all to the great central and superintendent Power, it would not fail to fill us with misgivings and anguish. The doctrine of the universality of law, which is the same as the universality of power under the guidance of fixed principles, recom- mends itself to the heart as well as the understanding, and dispenses happiness, while it controls conviction . Is any one prepared to say, that he is not rendered happy in the recollection, that God is around us and in us ? Is it not a source of consolation,that his paternal eye rests forever upon our path; that he knoweth our lying down and rising up, our going out and coming in ? And that while he superintends the minutest action's and events pertaining to ourselves, He extends ahroad, amid the numberless varieties of existence, the watchfulness of his pervading control, " And fills, and bounds, connects and equals all ?" §. 65. The universality of law implied in the belief of a Divine existence. The idea of a God necessarily embraces and implies the notion of the universality of law . Many of those nations, that have not been favoured with the light of Revelation, have maintained the doctrine of a Supreme Power. The human mind is so constituted, and is located under such a variety of influences favourable to such a result, that the idea of a God, though sometimes wholly obstructed by peculiarly un- toward circumstances, naturally deveiopes itself with a great- er or less degree of strength. The most savage nations, if it be too true that they are apt to forget Him in their prosperi- ty, seek to propitiate Him in the day of sorrow. They gener- ally have a conviction, indistinct indeed ; but not the less real, UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. 117 that a Deity is present, that there is some possible mode of communication between Him and men, that the virtuous are the objects of his favour and the vicious of his displeasure ; " pro se quisque, Deos tandem esse, etnon negligere humana, fre- munt. v * But with him, who enjoys the communications of the Divine Word, the conjectures, which are furnished by the light of nature, are exchanged for a cheering certainty, which can never be shaken . This high and inscrutable Being made all things ; he not only framed the world and all things therein, and ordained the moon and the stars, but he also holds in his hand the hearts of the children of men, and turns them whithersoever he will. He is not only unlimited in pow- er, but wholly unrestricted and boundless in knowledge, and supreme in the administration of his government. To deny either the one or the other, either his omniscience or his almightiness'or the supremacy of his administration, would be nothing less than to dethrone Him from his place in the universe, and virtually to deny his existence as Deity. As has been remarked, the idea of a God, possessed of such transcendent attributes, (an idea, which is not only proposed and fostered by Revelation, but is the natural and necessary- product of the human mind, except in those few cases where it is repressed and annulled by peculiar circumstances,) necessarily embraces and implies the notion of the universal- ity of law . The doctrine, that there is any thing whatever, which is truly and entirely exempt from every species of oversight and control, is altogether inconsistent with the recognition of the existence of a Supreme Being. If there is a God, there is an universal law . Can that power proper- ly be called omnipotent, within the sphere of whose opera- tions there are objects, which are entirely exempt from its supervision and control ? Can that wisdom properly be called *Livy, Lib. Ill, Cap. Lvr. 118 UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. ommiscient, which knows not what will be the determina- tions and acts of men in all assignable circumstances, in all time and place ? Can that government be with any propri- ety of language denominated a Supreme government, within whose limits there are agents, who are not reached and bound by any of those ties, even the feeblest of them, which operate to unite the circumference to the centre and to com- bine and assimilate the multiplied parts under one common head ? We must repeat it, therefore, if there is a God, there must be a law, which is, in the strict sense of the word, uni- versal. § 66. A presumption thus furnished in favour of the sub- jection of the will to law . It is not necessary to pursue this subject, when contem- plated under this general form, at much length. What has been said will answer our present purpose. If the doctrine of the universality of law be tenable, what shall we say of the will ? Does not the position, that the will is not sub- ject to laws, imply an anomaly in the universe ? Whatever is not under some sort of control, but is entirely irregular, contingent, and exempt from all conditions, is necessarily irresponsible to the supervision of any thing, even God him- self. We have then an exceedingly strong presumption, when we look at the subject. in the most general light, in favour of the proposition, that the will has its laws. Espe- cially when we consider the relation, which the will sustains to the other powers ; that its action constitutes the great re- sult, to which the operation of the other parts of our nature tends ; in other words, that, in all cases of movement or ex- ertion, the volition is the consummation of all the other men- tal acts, and in effect represents the whole mind. If the will acts contingently^ then the man acts contingently ; and UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. 119 w hile he retains this alleged specific character of acting in this way, he is not only free from all law, thus destroying that peace and joy of which Hooker asserts her to be the mother, but he cannot be controlled even by the Deity. He has suffered a revulsion from the parent stock ; he has gone off and set up for himself ; he has established an empire of his own, where even the Most High must not enter ; a state of things, which certainly finds no parallel among the other existences, powers, and intelligences of the universe, and which is rebuked alike by the conclusions of reasoning, and by the suggestions of virtue. CHAPTER SECOND, LAW OF CAUSALITY, §. 67. Of certain laws or principles which extend to all classes of objects. In asserting the universality of law, with whatever depth of conviction on our own part, we are aware of the possibil- ity of meeting with some scepticism on the part of other's. But we would refer such persons to one or two principles, which are so universal in their application, and at the same time so deeply based in the elements of human belief, as fully to illustrate and confirm what has been said. The principles in themselves are abundantly worthy of considera- tion, independently of their bearing upon the question before us ; and we are the more encouraged, therefore, to give them a specific notice. It will be seen on the examination of these principles, that, when we assert the universality of law, we are not without witnesses. While each object has laws peculiar to itself, and while each class of objects has laws characteristic of it as a class, there are also laws, which are not so limited LAW OF CAUSALITY. 121 in their application, but extend to all objects and classes of objects whatever. The first law of the latter description, which we propose to consider, may be denominated the law of causation or causality. Expressed in the more common form, the principle or law, which we now refer to, is simply this ; Every effect has a cause. But stated in language more explicit, and less liable as we apprehend to misconcep- tion, it may be given as follows ; There is no beginning OR CHANGE OF EXISTENCE WITHOUT A CAUSE. §. 68. A belief in the law of causation founded in the peculiar structure of the human mind. The principle, (or primary truth as it may well be denominated,) that there is no beginning or change of existence without a cause, is every way worthy of attention. The sub- ject, which it presents to notice, if it were examined in all its bearings and with a fullness of detail, would spread itself over the pages of a volume. Without proposing, however, to enter into it at much length, which would be inconsistent with our limits, we shall proceed to offer a few remarks, which may tend to its illustration. In explanation of the great law of causality,our first remark is, that the human mind is so constituted, that all events and all objects of knowledge whatever are made known to it in time. And in connection with this remark we may add, that there is no apprehension or knowledge of time, (we speak now of th*e human, and not of the divine intellect,) except by means of succession . It seems to be universally admitted by those who have given special attention to the inquiry, that the occasion, on which we have the idea of duration sug- gested or called forth within us, is succession ; particularly that succession of thought and feeling, of which we are con- scious as taking place internally. Hence the structure of 16 122 LAW OF CAUSALITY. the human mind requires, (what indeed a constant experience also teaches us,) that all those objects of knowledge, which in the view of the mind have a distinct and separate exis- tence, should be contemplated as successive to each other; in other words,all the distinct objects of knowledge of whatever kind arrange themselves as antecedents and sequents. Hence it happens, that we are led, at a very early period, to frame the ideas of antecedence and sequence, since nature from the very first is necessarily, (that is to say, by virtue of our mental constitution,) presented to us and pressed upon our notice under this aspect. It is this necessity laid upon the human mind of contemplating objects of thought, which are brought before it distinct and separate from each other, not simultaneously but in sucession, which Kant seems to have in view, when he speaks of Time as a form or mode, that is, a fundamental law of the intellect. It is different with the in- tellectual perception, the mind of the Supreme Being, who is not necessitated to become acquainted with objects in this peculiar form or mode ; but perceives all events and all ob- jects of knowledge simultaneously, and spread out before Him as it were on a map. It seems obvious, therefore, that the basis of the belief, which is accorded to the great law of Causality, is deeply laid in the peculiar structure of the hu- man soul. The law not only exists ; (that is to say, it is not only a great principle in nature, that all facts and events arrange themselves as antecedences and sequences and sustain the relation of cause and effect;) but the structure of the mind itself is such, that it naturally, and as it were with its earliest breath, imbibes a knowledge of it. §. 69. Of the universality of the law of causation. Accordingly from the earliest period of our lives, we are naturally led, by the inherent and permanent tendencies of LAW O'JF CAUSALITY. . J23 our mental constitution, to contemplate objects in this way. All objects, which are both distinct and separate in them- selves, and are contemplated separately from each other by the mind, necessarily pass before the intellectual view in succession. They appear and disappear one after another in a sort of perennial movement, arising in the course of the mind's action from darkness to light, and then again waning into evanescence, and wrapping themselves in clouds. It is in this way we are made acquainted with the general idea of succession. But this is not all. By a careful obser- vation of what takes place both within and around us, we are soon enabled to distinguish one succession from another ; that succession for instance, which is unfixed and variable, from that which is always the same. In other words, we soon ascertain from our experience, that certain facts and events are preceded by other fixed and invariable facts and events, and that the former never take place without the an- tecedent existence of the latter. This is the universal expe- rience in regard to a great number of facts and events, viz, that they are thus invariably connected together. And it is this form of our experience in particular, from which no one is exempt, which furnishes the occasion of the universal and unalterable belief, arising naturally and necessarily in the human mind, and existing in all ages and places of the world, that every effect, meaning by the term whatever takes place, has a cause. We say, existing in all ages and places of the world, for this undoubtedly is found to be the simple and real fact, so far as any inquiry has been made on the subject ; and which is ascertained so extensively as to warrant the'fur- ther extension of it by analogy to every human being. This proposition, which may be termed the lav/ of causality, is one of those transcendental or primary truths, which lay at the foundation of all knowledge. The belief, which is in- 124 LAW OF CAUSALITY. volved in it, is unprompted, spontaneous, and original ; it is the necessary growth of the mind's action, in the circum- stances in which we are placed ; and so far from being the result of reasoning, which is the foundation of so large a portion of our knowledge, it is entirely antecedent to it, and is to he regarded as one of those things, on which the reason- ing power itself essentially depends, as one of its primitive and indispensable bases. §. TO. Of the classification into Effective and Preparative causes. It is true, that men after a time learn to comment on this fundamental proposition, and to make distinctions. After their increased experience has enabled them to draw the line between the things animate and inanimate, material and im- material, and especially after they have learnt more fully the nature and appropriate residence of Power, they begin to make a distinction,which undoubtedly is a well founded one, between efficient or effective causes, which imply the exer- cise of power, and other causes, which furnish merely the preparation or occasion of what follows. — These two classes of causes, therefore, might not improperly be denominated and characterized, in order to aid in distinguishing them from each other, respectively as Effective and Preparative causes. Certain it is, that such a distinction is to be made ; . and that without it the fundamental principle of the univer- sality of causation does not hold true. Both of these classes of causes imply the notion of invariable antecedence ; but they differ in this. Preparative causes, (if for the want of a better term we may be permitted so to call them,) furnish merely the ground or occasion of what is to follow ; while Effective causes imply not only the ground or occasion of what follows, but the actual efficiency or power, which brings it to pass. Effective causes have power in them- XAW OF CAUSALITY. 125 selves ; while Preparative causes only furnish the appropriate and necessary occasions, on which the power, that is lodged somewhere else, exercises itself. Both classes are invariably followed by their appropriate results or effects ; but the one class, having the whole efficiency in itself, is strictly opera- tive and actually makes or brings to pass the effect, what- ever it may be ; but the other class, which is destitute of efficiency in itself, is merely the preparatory circumstance, occasion, or condition, on which what is called the effect, either in virtue of its own power or some attendant power extraneous to itself, invariably takes place. It is important to remember this distinction. And it is with this distinction in view, and not otherwise, that we assert the universality of causation ; in other words that every effect has a cause. And accordingly it is the univer- sal belief of men, evinced alike by their words and their conduct, that without a cause there is neither any beginning nor any change of existence. §. 71. Opinions of various philosophers on this subject. Probably on no topic whatever can we find a greater agreement and a more decided concurrence of testimony, than in respect to the fundamental proposition now before us. We shall here introduce to the notice of the reader some passages, which will show, that this remark is not unadvis- edly made. Archbishop King. — In the celebrated Treatise of this learned and acute writer on the Origin of Evil, we find it maintained in a number of passages, that, although there is a great First Cause or original and uncreated Active Prin- ciple, all other things whatever, whether material or immate- rial, are dependent upon and are connected with that original Active Power, in the unbroken chain and succession of ef- 126 LAW OF CAUSALITY. fects and causes, however remote that dependence and con- nection ma"y he. "We are certain, he remarks in his inquiries concerning the First Cause or God, that all other things come from this Active Principle. For nothing else, as we have shown hefore, contains in itself necessary existence or active power, entirely independent of any other. As, there- fore, itself is from none, so all others are from it. For from hence we conclude that this Principle does exist, hecause, after considering the rest of the things which do exist, we perceive that they could neither be nor act, if that had not existed, and excited motion in them."* Dr. Clarke. — In the Demonstration of the Being and Attributes of God we find the subject under examination referred to by this distinguished writer in the following terms. — "It is absolutely and undeniably certain, that some- thing has existedfrom all eternity. This is so evident and un- deniable a proposition, that no atheist in any age has ever presumed to assert the contrary ; and therefore there is lit- tle need of being particular in the proof of it. For since something now is, it is evident, that something always was : Otherwise the things, that now are, must have been produced out of nothing, absolutely and without a cause ; which is a plain contradiction in terms. For to say a thing is produced, and yet that there is no cause at all of that production, is to say that something is effected, when it is effected by nothing; that is, at the same time when it is not effected at all. What- ever exists has a cause, a reason, a ground of its existence ; (a foundation, on which its existence relies ; a ground or reason why it doth exist, rather than not exist ;) either in the necessity of its own nature, and then it must have been qf itself eternal ; or in the will of some other being ; and then * Essay concerning the Origin of Evil, Chap. I, §. 3d. LAW OF CAUSALITY. 127 that other being must, at least in the order of nature and causality, have existed before it."* Lord Kames. -'That nothing can happen without a cause, is a principle embraced by all men, the illiterate and ignorant as well as the learned. Nothing that happens is conceived as happening of itself, but as an effect produced by some other thing. However ignorant of the cause, we not- withstanding conclude, that every event must have a cause. We should perhaps be at a loss to deduce this principle from any premises by a chain of reasoning. But perception affords conviction, where reason leaves us in the dark. We' perceive the proposition to be true. And indeed a sentiment common to all must be founded on the common nature of «//.+" Mr Stewart. — "It may be safely pronounced to be im- possible for a person to bring himself for a moment to be- lieve, that any change may take place in the material universe without a cause. I can conceive very easily, that the voli- tion in my mind is not the efficient cause of the motions of my hand ; but can I conceive that my hand moves without any cause whatever? — In the case of every change around us, without exception, we have an irresistible conviction of the operation of some cause. "J Dr Dwight. — "The mind cannot realize the fact, that exis- tence, or change, can take place without a cause. This is, at least, true with respectto my own mind. I have very often made the attempt, and with no small pains-taking, but never been able to succeed at all. Supposing other minds to have the same general nature with my own, I conclude that all others will find the same want of success. If nothing * Demonstration of the Being and attributes of God, Prop. I. t Principles of Morality and Natural Religion, Lond. 2d. Ed. Essay in. % Stewart's Philosophy of the Moral and Active Powers, Bk. III. Ch. 2d, §. 1. 128 LAW OF CAUSALITY. had originally existed, I cannot possibly realize, that any thing could ever have existed."* §.72. Opinions of President Edwards on this subject. In addition to these respectable testimonies, without referring to a multitude of others not less explicit, we may adduce that of President Edwards, as it is found in his able Inquiry into the Will. And thus having occasion to refer to that Work, we embrace this opportunity to render, with sin- cere pleasure, our acknowledgements to the metaphysical writings of that distinguished man, and to express our high sense of his services to the cause of letters and of religion in general. In the wide grasp of his views, in the ability of patient and persevering thought, in the power of perceiving and developing distinctions however intricate, in the desira- ble qualities of good temper and candour, he has perhaps never been excelled. If we take into view not only the mental ability, the creative vigour so characteristic of all his efforts, but the direction or tendency of the mind, (the intel- lectual taste if we may so express it,) he is entitled to be ranked, in either point of view, in the same exalted scale of intellect with those distinguished masters of mental science, bishop Butler and Mr Locke. Few have ever reached, by their own original efforts, the sublime height of his specu- lations , which are the more wonderful, as they are always based upon calm reason and sober good sense, and perhaps fewer still have attained to the radiant excellence of his vir- tue. He took his position with unfeigned humility at the feet of the Most High, and was pre-eminently wise himself, not only for being originally endowed with the quickening elements of wisdom, but because he sought the inspirations of knowledge from above. * Dwight's Theology, Ser. I. on the Existence of God. LAW OF CAUSALITY. 129 On. the particular subject, which is before "us, Presi- dent Edwards expresses himself thus. "Having thus explained what I mean by cause, I assert, that nothing ever comes to pass without a cause. What is self-existent must be from eternity, and must be unchangeable . But as to all things that begin to be, they are not self-existent, and there- fore must have some foundation of their existence without themselves . That whatsoever begins to be, which before was not, must have a cause why it begins to exist, seems to be the first dictate of the common and natural sense which God hath implanted in the minds of all mankind, and the main foundation of all our reasonings about the existence of things, past, present, or to come. And this dictate of common sense equally respects sub- stances and modes, or things and the manner and circum- stances of things. Thus, if we see a body, which has hith- erto been at rest, start out of a state of rest, and begin to move, we do as naturally and necessarily suppose there is some cause or reason of this new mode of existence, as of the existence of a body itself which had hitherto not existed. And so if a body, which had hitherto moved in a certain direction, should suddenly change the direction of its motion ; or if it should put off its old figure, and take a new one ; or change its colour ; the beginning of these new modes is j a new event, and the mind of mankind necessarily supposes that there is some cause or reason of them."* * Edward's Inquiry into the Will, Part II, §. 3d. — A number of other American writers, of less celebrity undoubtedly than Presidents Edwards and Dwight but still of great weight, have maintained the principle under discus- sion. See among other works Dr Stephen West's Essay on Moral Agency, Part I, §. §. 5th, 6th ; and Dr Burton's Essays on some of the Fust Princi- ples of Metaphyics, &c, Essay XIII. — See also, in connection with this sub- ject, a recent English Work of Dr Abercrombie, entitled Inquiries concerning the Intellectual Powers, Pt. II, §. 2d. 17 130 LAW OF CAUSALITY. §,73. Of the results of a denial of this proposition. One or two remarks remain to be made. Let it not be supposed, as may be likely to be the case, that thi3 proposi- tion or truth is of but small practical importance. It would be unnecessary, if it were possible at this time, to notice all its applications, and to show how constantly we make it the basis of our conclusions in the multiplied acts and duties of every day and hour. If this truth were not allowed us, it is not too much to say that we could not exist. It will in- dicate how extensively it applies, and of course how necessary it is even to our existence, when we remark, that even our belief in an external material world is, in some degree, founded upon it. We have the various sensations of taste, smell, sound, touch, and sight ; but in themselves considered they are purely internal ; they are as much attributes of the soul as the emotions of cheerfulness and joy and sorrow and wonder. We take cognizance of their mere existence, and of nothing more than their mere existence, till the great law of causality, which has established itself in our convic- tions from the first dawning of the intellect, and which con- stantly presses itself on our notice, leads us to inquire,whence come these sensations? What is it that fills us with harmony, and developes in the soul these visions of visible beauty ? The presence and pressure of the great truth of universal causation awakens the principle of curiosity, and we do not rest satisfied, till we are able to detect the grounds of these inward sensations in outward objects, and are thus led to recognize and to admit the existence of a world of matter. So that if men could be made to believe that there may be effects without causes, and could thus disconnect their in- ward sensations from all outward antecedents, they might LAW OF CAUSALITY. 131 consistently regard all other existences as identified and embodied in their own, and pronounce every thing-, which seemed not to he in themselves, mere unsubstantial images, chimeras, & illusory appearances. Among other pernicious results. of the supposition, that there maybe effects without '•causes, is this, that we are unable to prove in that case the existence of the Supreme Being. The apostle assures us> that the invisible things of God, even his eternal power and godhead, are made known from the things which are created. And who does not assent to this great practical doctrine ? Who is able to cast his eye over the expanded face, of nature, decorated with countless forms of life and beauty, without every where reading the stamp and signatures of a higher Power ? We reason upwards from the things, which are made, to the maker. Nature's works are the foundation and support of a sort of Jacob's ladder, that reaches to heaven ; and by means of which even feeble men may climb upward and approach to the Most High, as did the angels of God in the bright and blessed visions of the Patriarch. But how is this done ? By what process shall we consummate this approx- imation to the Divine existence ? If it be said, it is clone by reasoning, and that reasoning is the ladder of ascent, then we may ask, where is its support ? What sustains it ? Where does it rest ? And all we can say is, that its basis is in this very proposition which we have made the subject of our con- sideration ; in the great and fundamental truth of causa- tion ; and without that truth it has not an inch of ground to rest upon. But if on the other hand it be true,that every effect has its cause, then may the universe of effects around us, bound together as it is by the evidences of a pervading unity as well as expansive and pervading wisdom, justly claim for itself in its creation the agency of a Su- preme Being, and thus lead our belief upward from the things 132 LAW OF CAUSALITY. that are made to the conception and belief of the great Au- thor of them. . 74. The truth of the proposition under consideration implied in the fact of a Supreme existence or Deity. We may here without impropriety briefly revert to a train 1 of thought, which has been already touched upon in the pre- ceding chapter. We there expressed ourselves to the effect, that, if there is no law, there is no Deity. We may go more into particulars in this connection, and may add further, that, if the law of universal causation in particular be not true, there is no Deity. In making this assertion, however, it is proper to remark, that we employ the term Deity in the sense commonly attached to it, viz, as including the ideas of omniscience and superintendence. But obviously if the pro- position of universal causation be not true, there is no basis whatever either for the one or the other of these attributes of the Supreme Being. If effects can take place without causes, if events can happen without being connected in any way with any thing antecedent, then there is evidently no tie, which can effectually unite them either with the Divine mind, or with any other mind. They stand insulated and apart from every thing else ; they come & go through the great & universal ordering and arrangement of things, like strangers from an unknown land, whose advent and departure are alike beyond all anticipation and knowledge. The vast and boundless empire, of which God stands at the head, would be flooded by events, in which He would have no a- gency, and of which he could have had no antecedent conception. Instead of the harmony and unity, which now every where exist and every where diffuse trans - cendant happiness, there would be the return of chaos, an universal breaking up of the established system of things, a LAW OF CAUSALITY. 133 complete and utter embroilment, the reign "of [chance and tumult, of confusion and discord, like the jarring of the infer- nal doors, " grating harsh thunder." But the law of causal- ity hushes the confusion, arranges the discordant materials, and brings every thing into order. §. 75. Application of the views oj this chapter to the will. Our object in introducing these views must be obvious. They apply directly to the will ; and, if we do not misap- prehend their bearing, they decisively support the doctrine, that the voluntary power, whatever may be true in respect to its freedom, is still not exempt from law. If there be- any primary element of human reason whatever, any un- doubted and fundamental truth evolved from the very structure of the mind and exacting an universal assent, it is the one under consideration. But if the will is exempt from the superintendence of all law, if its acts have respect to no antecedent and are regulated by no conditions, then this fundamental proposition is not true, and has no existence. But if, on the other hand, in compliance with the dictates of our nature and the indispensable requirements of our situa- tion, we adhere to this truth in all that unlimited length and breadth, which constitutes its value, we shall of course as- sign to every act of the will a cause. Let it be noticed, however, that we do not specify here the precise nature of the cause. We use the term cause here, as we have done in all that has been' said, in its broadest sense, as meaning, according to the nature of the subject spoken of, either the mere antecedent occasion, or the an- tecedent combined with power ; as expressing either the Effective cause, which truly makes the sequence, or the Pre- parative cause, which is merely a condition of the existence of such sequence. In the language of President Edwards, 134 LAW OF CAUSALITY. who endeavoured to prevent his being misunderstood, by taking particular precautions in respect to this term, we em- ploy it " to signify any antecedent, either natural or moral, positive or negative, on which an event, either a thing, or the manner and circumstance of a thing, so depends, that it is the ground and reason, either in whole or in part, why it is, rather than not, or why it is as it is,rather than otherwise."* In this comprehensive sense of the term we hqld it to be un- deniably true, that there is no act of the will, no volition without a cause. And this being the case, it is of course im- plied, that the will itself, from which the act or volition originates, is subject to some principles of regulation ; in other words, has its' laws\ * Edward's Inquiry into the Will, Part II, §. 3d. CHAPTER THIRD. LAW OF UNIFORMITY. §. 76. Belief of men in the continued uniformity of nature^ operations. Another principle or law of practically universal applica- tion, one -which, like the preceding is considered fundamental to the due exercise of the reasoning power in the ordinary occasions of its exercise, and the truth of which seems to be universally admitted, is this, — That there is a permanency and uniformity in the operations of nature. When we assert, as we cannot hesitate to do.that this principle is accordant with the common belief of mankind, and that it is universally admitted, we are not aware of asserting any thing more than what is obvious every hour in the orclirjiry conversation and con- duct of men. Is not such the case ? Does not the slightest observation show it ? All men believe, that the setting sun will arise again at the appointed hour ; that the rains will descend and the winds blow,and that the frosts and the snows will cover the earth, essentially the same as they have done 136 LAW OF UNIFORMITY. heretofore ; that the decaying plants of autumn will revive in the spring ; that the tides of the ocean will continue to heave as in times past ; and that there will be the return and the alternation of heat and cold ; and that the streams and rivers will continue to flow in their courses. Their conduct clearly proves, in all these cases, and in all instances anala- gous to them, the existence of a belief in the principle of uniformity above-mentioned, which seems deeply founded, constant, and unwavering in the very highest degree. If they doubted, they certainly would not live, and would not act, and would not feel, as they are now seen to do. It is with this belief, that that they lie down amid the evening shadows and sleep in quietness ; it is with this belief they arise in the light of the morning and till the reluctant- earth in the sweat of their brow ; it is with this belief that they store their minds with knowledge which without the belief they could never imagine to be at all available to them ; it is under the control of the same immovable conviction that they rear their habitations and provide in various ways for the good and the evil,the joys and the sufferings of the future. We are desirous of not being misunderstood in the state- ment of this great practical and fundamental principle. This principle, although it is an elementary and fundamental one, seems to be in some sense, subordinate to the law or princi- ple of causality. The latter partakes more of a transcend- ental nature. We not only fully believe it ; but it is impos- sible not to believe. It is as impossible for us to believe, that existences can be brought into being without a cause, or in other words that nothing can produce something, as to believe that the part is greater than the whole. But in respect to the other principle, although we are so constituted as fully to believe the affirmative, we do not necessarily be- lieve the absolute impossibility of the negative. In other LAW OF UNIFORMITY. 137 words, while by our very constitution we believe in the uni- formity of nature in all its relations and bearings upon our- selves, we do not necessarily preclude the possible interpo- sition of that Being on whom all nature depends. Our be- lief is undoubtedly subject to that limitation. §. 77. This belief exists in reference to mind as well as matter. But while the statements now made are assented to, in relation to the material world and outward objects in general, it may be supposed, that they do not hold good in relation to the mind of man and spiritual or mental objects . But this is an erroneous supposition. There are no sufficient grounds for maintaining, that men intend to limit the application of the principle in question to mere material things ; but on the contrary they undoubtedly regard it as extending to mind, so far as comes within the reach of their observation, and bjr analogy to all minds in all parts of the universe. In other words, they believe, there is an uniformity in mental, as well as in material action. Certainly it must have come within the observation of every one, that men act precisely as if this were the case. It is admitted on all sides, that men plant their grounds in the spring, with the full expectation and confidence, that the operations of nature will be essentially the same as they have been, and that vernal labours will be enriched with autumnal rewards. But do they not exhibit the same confident expectation in their intercourse with each other ? Does not the. parent till the mind of his child in the full expectation of a mental harvest ? Do not men make promises, and form covenants, and incur responsibilities to an extent and with an assurance, which can be explained only on the ground, that they regard the law of uniformity as being applicable to mental as well as physical nature ? Without this belief no contracts between man and man 18 138 LAW OF UNIFORMITY. would be formed ; no business transactions, involving future liabilities and duties, would be carried on ; no domestic relationships would be established ; but every thing would be thrown into utter confusion and perplexity ; and even the bonds of society, without which man can hardly exist and certainly cannot be happy, would be loosened and torn asun- der. So that the situation and conduct of men may, in this case, be regarded as proofs of what they believe. And being so regarded, they clearly indicate and prove the general and decided conviction among them, that there is an established and uniform order in the mental operations of mankind, which, if not perfectly analogous, is as much so, as the differ- ent natures of matter & mind will permit,to the regular course of things,which we constantly observe in the physical world. §. 78. Circumstances under which this belief arises. It ought perhaps to be added, in explanation of this belief in the permanency and uniformity both of material and men- tal nature, that it does not appear to arise and exist in its full strength at once. It seems to have its birth at first in some particular instance ; and then again is called into exis- tence in another instance; and then subsequently in another and another ; till ultimately we are led to regard that perma- nency and uniformity, to which .it relates, as of universal application with the single exception already referred to, viz, the possible interposition of that great Being, on whom all nature depends. As the belief arises in this gradual way, we may well suppose, that, in the early periods of its origin and growth, it is comparatively weak ; but it soon acquires great strength ; so much so that every day and hour we do not hesitate to make it the basis of our conduct. Even in our childhood and youth it had beeome in our minds a fixed principle, which in ordinary cases we no more thought of LAW OF UNIFORMITY. ]39 questioning, than we did the facts of our personality and personal identity. We always looked upon .nature, even at that early period, as firm, unshaken, immoveable ; as going forth, in all the varieties of her action, to the undoubted at- tainment of certain definite ends, and as announcing in the facts of the past a most perfect pledge of what was to come. §. 79. Of the true idea of chance, in distinction from uniformity. We cannot hesitate to assert, that the belief in question is accordant with fact. The mind, in this respect as in others, corresponds with the operations and course of things around it. They are mutually adapted to each other. But if others have less confidence in these assertions, we would propose to them to consider a moment the opposite of the uniformity contended for, viz, contingency or chance. We must either take law, which implies an uniformity of opera- tions, or chance, which implies none. There is no other alternative. But what philosopher, what man of the' least depth of reflection is prepared to admit, that chance, as it is called, has any place at all in the constitution of things ? It is true, we not unfrequently use this term. But if we carefully consider the circumstances, under which it was originally introduced, we shall find that it necessarily ex- presses not any thing in nature, not any agency either neg- ative or positive, but merely a certain position of the hu- man mind. In other words, it expresses the fact, (and it does not necessarily express any thing more,) of the exis- tence of human ignorance. And hence it happens, that what is considered and called chance by one, is far from being so considered by another, who has a deeper insight into it. And in all cases whatever, the increase of knowledge will diminish what are considered the domains of chance by •+- t 140 LAW OF UNIFORMITY. those, who are incapable of fully exploring them. Some person says, for instance, it is a mere chance, whether the American Congress or the English Parliament will pass such or such an act in their coming session. But if this person could fully penetrate the hearts of all the members, their convictions, interests, prejudices, and moral sentiments, it would no longer he chance, hut become certainty. Ac- cordingly when men assert the occurrence of a thing by chance, it cannot be supposed, that they truly mean to as- sert, (for a voice within them, an original impulse of their own nature assures them of the contrary,) that the thing in question happens without any occasion, reason, or cause. Their notions will perhaps be indistinct, and it is possible they may entertain some such idea at first ; but if they will only analyze their thoughts, they will be convinced, they cannot, with any sort of propriety, intend to express by it any thing more than their own want of knowledge. In other words, when a thing happens by chance, it happens by chance in respect to them. That is to say, they are not able to com- prehend and explain how it happens ; it comes in a way they know not how ; and as they can attach to it no law, it has the appearance to them of being without law. And it is this appearance undoubtedly, rather than the reality of the absence of causation and of law, which they intend to ex- press, when they use the word in question. §. 80. Grounds or foundation of this belief . It will perhaps be inquired, what is the foundation of the deep belief, which so universally attaches itself to the great principle of a permanency and uniformity in nature? To what part of our constitution is it to be referred ? — It would perhaps be a natural explanation to suggest, that it is founded upon acts of reasoning. But on examination this does not ap- LAW OF UNIFORMITY. 141 pear to "be the case. We do indeed sometimes speak in some such manner as follows ; The sun rose to-day, therefore it will do the same to-morrow ; Food nourished us to-day, therefore it will do the same to-morrow, &c ; a mode of expression, which seems to imply, that the uniformity of the future is inferred or deduced from the facts of the past by a train of reasoning. But certainly it is not difficult to see, that some- thing is here wanting ; that a link in the chain of reasoning must be supplied in order to make it cohere ; and that conse- quently there is merely the appearance or form of reasoning without the reality. The mere naked fact, that the sun rose to-day, without any thing else being connected with it, affords not the least ground for the inference, that it will rise again ; and the same may be said of all similar instan- ces. We cannot, therefore, prove the uniformity in ques- tion in this way. But if reasoning is not the basis on which it rests, and if we can give no other satisfactory explanation of its origin, (and it does not appear that we can,) all we can say is, that the belief, which men so universally have of such uniformity, is the gift of nature ; that it is neither taught to them by a deduction from other principles nor communicated by any other secondary process whatever ; but is produced or arises naturally within them ; the necessary and infallible growth and product of their mental constitution. In other words the very structure of our minds requires us to assume as a certainty and truth, that there will be, in time to come as in time past, this alledged permanency and uniformity in the operations, which are going on in the various departments of nature, both mental and material. Certain it is, no one appears to doubt, that such will be the case, although no one can bring proof of the fact, except such as is furnished by the irresistible suggestions of his own internal being. So 142 LAW OF UNIFORMITY. that the principle of uniformity, like that of causality, is something antecedent to reasoning and not subsequent to it; something beyond and above reasoning and not dependent on it ; one of those original and substantial columns, im- planted within us by the provident care of nature, which the reasoning power could never have placed there, but upon which that power, as it does upon the other great principle just referred to, subsequently erects its permanent and mag- nificent structures. §. 81. Reference to the opinions of Reid and Jlbercrombie. It is proper to remark that we do not by any means pro- pose these views as novel ; nor on the other hand do our limits permit us to introduce passages, at much length, for the purpose of showing, how often, and how ably they have been maintained by distinguished writers. We feel at liberty to make but one or two references out of a multitude of others not less explicit. " In the phenomena of nature, (says Dr. Reid,) what is to be, will probably be like to what has been in similar circumstances. We must have this convic- tion as soon as we are capable of learning any thing from experience ; for all experience is grounded upon a belief that the future will be like the past. Take away this princi- ple, and the experience of an hundred years makes us no wiser with regard to what is to come. "This is one of those principles, which, when we grow up and observe the course of nature, we can confirm by reason- ing. We perceive that nature is governed by fixed laws, and that if it were not so, there could be no such thing as prudence in human conduct ; there would be no fitness in any means to promote an end ; and what, on one occasion, promoted it, might as probably, on another occasion, ob- struct it. LAW OF UNIFORMITY. . 143 " But the principle is necessary for us before we are able to discover it by reasoning, and therefore is made a part of our constitution, and produces its effects before the use of reason. " This principle remains in all its force when we come to the use of reason : but we learn to be more cautious in the application of it. We observe more carefully the circumstan- ces on which the past event depended, and learn to distin- guish them from those which were accidentally conjoined with it. "In order to this, a number of experiments, varied in their circumstances, is often necessary. Sometimes a single ex- periment is thought sufficient to establish a general conclu- sion. Thus, when it was once found, that, in a certain degree of cold, quicksilver became a hard malleable metal, there was good reason to think, that the same degree of cold will always produce this effect to the end of the world. " I need hardly mention, that the whole fabric of natural philosophy is built upon this principle, and, if it be taken away, must tumble down to the foundation. " Therefore the great Newton lays it down as an axiom, or as one of his laws of philosophising, in these words, Effec- tuum naturalium ejusdem .generis easdem esse causas. This is what every man assents to as soon as he understands it, and no man asks a reason for it. It has therefore the most genu- ine marks of a first principle, "f Dr. Abercrombie, in a recent philosophical work charac- terized by its sober and practical good sense, speaks of certain first truths, "which are not the result of any pro- cess of reasoning, but force themselves with a conviction of infallible certainty upon every sound understanding, without regard to its logical habits or powers of induction." Among tReid's Intellectual Powers of Man, Essay V. 144 LAW OF UNIFORMITY. these he expressly and particularly includes "a confidence in the uniformity of nature ; or that the same suhstance will always exhihit the 'same characters ; and that the same cause under the same circumstances will always he followed by the same effect. This, as a first truth, is a fundamental and instinctive conviction."* §. 82. Application of these views to the will. And now let us inquire, how the principle of uniformity will apply to the general subject under consideration. Does it not furnish an argument of much weight in respect to the regulation of the will ? The principle is understood to ap- ply, without exception, to every thing whatever, which has properties, attributes, or acts, whether its nature be mental or material ; and as thus stated and understood, it is received and maintained by writers of great discernment, among whom Mr. Stewart, who is not apt to commit himself in fa- vor of any position of doubtful strength, as well as Dr. Reid and Dr. Abercrombie, may be included. But if the will be not subject to any regulation, if it be above and beyond the control of law, then there can be no uniformity in its opera- tions 5 it is not only impossible for man, but for any being whatever to predict what those operations shall be, or eten to make any approximation to such pre- diction. But if the principle of uniformity do not hold good in respect to the will, it follows of course that it does not hold good in respect to the actions and general conduct of men, which depend upon the will. And if it fails, both in respect to the voluntary and outward action, constituting as they do so large a portion of the objects to which it is alledg- ed to apply,it certainly ought not to be laid down as a general principle. But then if the principle fails in respect to any *Abercroml>ie'3 Inquiries concerning the Intellectual Powers, Pt. in. §. 4llu LAW OF UNIFOKMITY. 145 part of those things which exist, and to which it has hither- to been supposed to apply, its authority is necessarily weak^ ened, if not totally undermined, in respect to all its other applications ; for, if exceptions to the general principle are once admitted, no man can tell where they are to be found, or in what number ; but every thing in respect to it is thrown into uncertainty. But those, who assert the universality of the principle, are not by any means disposed to admit, that it ever does or ever will fail any where. Not because such an admission would be fatal to their views ; but because they see no rea- son for the admission. If the planets are subject to laws ; if plants and trees and air and clouds and rivers and oceans have their uniform principles of action ; if the same principle extends to the mind, modified only by the different nature of the subject ; if sensation and perception and memory and reason- ing and imagination and belief and association act always under the condition of an uniformity of action in all future time when the circumstances are precisely the same ; if these are undeniable facts, as they obviously are ; then they find themselves compelled to believe, (and the belief existing under such circumstances is an original and imperative im- pulse of our nature,) that the will too, whenever the circum- ■ stances are the same, will be uniform in its operations ; that is, IT HAS ITS LAWS. And why should it not be so ? Will it not be gen- erally and readily conceded, that this is a pleasing and delightful thought ? This view, (and no other can do it,) makes man in all respects a part and parcel of that wonderful universe, of which the adorable Creator is the boundary and the centre. He exists in it, as in a delightful home. Wherever he turns his eyes, there are mansions pre- pared for him. Wherever he directs his footsteps, invisible ID 146 LAW OF UNIFORMITY. beings, that know all his wants, watch over him. Even in solitude he is not alone ; he still finds indications of life, relationship, and love ; he still finds himself encircled in the arms of God. § 83. Of an objection to these views drawn jrom the conduct of men. We think of no prominent objection to the views of this chapter excepting this, that the statements made are more agreeable to speculation, than accordant with fact ; in other words, that the conduct of men, as daily coming under our notice, does'not fully support them. In reply to this objec- tion, besides the obvious facts in human action already hinted at, we refer the reader to the more explicit and definite statements brought forward in a subsequent chapter on the Prescience or foresight of men, where he will see, that their conduct is abundantly conformed to the principle before us. We will however make one remark here, which of itself is but little short of decisive. — Men are constantly operating upon each other, endeavouring for some purpose or other to regulate, influence, and control the conduct of others. And what methods do they* employ ? It is evident, that they can- not possibly control the conduct of their fellow men, except by operating on the will. And the course, which, in accor- dance with this view, we find them taking , is that of apply- ing promises, threatenings, encouragements, and exhortations. They address these and other like considerations to those, whose conduct they desire to influence, as motives; expecting, as they think they have abundant reason to, that they will be received and have their influence as such. These are the means they employ ; and no one is ignorant, that in the employment of them they meet with ample success. But if the action of the will were regulated by no fixed principles, LAW OF UNIFORMITY. 147 this could never happen. No addresses, made either to the interests or the sense of duty, no motives, of whatever kind, can furnish a ground of probability in respect to the acts of any being or power, whose acts are in their nature unavoid- ably contingent. Hence on the doctrine of contingency, which is the opposite of that law, there cannot possibly be any encouragement to the making of such addresses, or to the attempting of an} r efforts whatever, with the design of influ- encing and regulating the conduct of others, since there can on that doctrine be no possible foresight or even conjecture of the results. Only once establish the principle, that the will is liberated from all particular tendencies and law ; show that we are utterly unable to predict the nature of its acts under all circumstances whatever, and not a man will be found, who has any claims to an ordinary share of good judgment, that will use his efforts and apply means for the attainment of any object dependent upon the conduct of another, however desirable that object may be. As he can never tell nor even conjecture what is suitable to be address- ed to his felloAV-men, in order to induce them to pursue a certain course of conduct, it may be regarded as certain that he will never make the attempt. But as the facts, which constantly come under our notice, are directly the reverse of this, and as such attempts in relation to the actions of others are constantly made, we have, in this single view of men's conduct, a nearly decisive answer to the objection referred to. CHAPTER FOURTH. LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN MORAL GOVERNMENT. §. 84. Of the existence of a moral government. But if we turn our attention from the fundamental laws, which are undeniably incorporated with the natural economy of the universe both in its mental and material forms, to the consideration of the predominant principles, which pervade its moral government, and examine these principles with a suitable degree of care, we shall find new and substantial evidence of the truth of the proposition before us. And accor- dingly it is our design in the present chapter to bring reasons to show, that the doctrine of the will's subjection to law is necessarily implied in the fact of a moral government; as- suming in the argument, of course, that we are reasoning with those who fully believe and admit, that such a moral -rovernment exists, and that men are subjects of it. Cer- tainly there is ample evidence that such is the case, inclepen- t LAWS OF THE WILL. 149 dently of what is taught on the subject in Revelation. The light of nature clearly and strikingly indicates, that a moral government, extending its authority over the human race in particular, has an existence. Mankind, (says Bishop Butler, who has investigated this subject with his acknowledged ability and candour,) find themselves placed by God in such circumstances, as that they are unavoidably accountable for their behaviour, and are often punished, and sometimes re- warded under his government, in the view of their being mischievous or eminently beneficial to society."* Revela- tion, whatever may be the clearness or obscurity of the in- dications of unaided nature, places the existence of such a moral government beyond all doubt. We suppose, there- fore, the fact of such a government to be admitted. §. 85. Laws of the will deducible from'jhe first principles of moral government. If a moral government exists, as is assumed to be the fact and is known to be so, then it has its first principles or ele- ments. It must of course have its predominant traits, its distinctive characteristics , some admitted and essential truths. If these traits or principles are assented to, they must obvi- ously be assented to, with such consequences as may fairly attach to them, whatever those consequences may be. And hence the mode of our reasoning. In conducting the argument drawn from this source, we shall attempt to point out some of those things, which are universally understood to be implied in and to be essential to a moral government ; and as these elementary principles are successively pointed out, shall briefly examine their ap- plication to the subject under inquiry. And in thisfway we * Butler's Analogy of Religion to the Constitution and Course of Nature, Pt. I, Chap. 3d. 150 LAWS OF THE WILL propose to make it appear, that the doctrine of the subjection of the voluntary power to laws is implied in the existence of moral government. And if such a government exists, which is conceded to be the fact,then the doctrine in question is true. §. 86. Laws of the will inferred jrom that supremacy or para- mount authority , which is implied in a moral government. Every moral government implies, in the first place, a ruler, a governor, some species of supreme authority. The term government itself, separate from any qualifying epithet, obviously expresses the fact, that there are some beings governed, which is inconceivable without the correlative of a higher and governing power. And what is true of all other government is certainly not less so of that species of gov- ernment, which is denominated moral. In all moral govern- ment, therefore, there must undoubtedly be some supreme authority, to which those, who are governed, are amenable. Now if men are under government, they are under law. To be governed is obviously to be regulated, guided, or controlled, in a greater or less degree. To say that men are governed and are at the same time exempt from law, is but little short of a verbal contradiction, and is certainly a real one. But when we speak of men as being under laws, we do not mean to assert a mere abstraction. We mean to express something actually existing ; in other words we intend to assert the fact, that the actions of men, whatever may be true of their freedom, are in some way or other reached by an effective supervision. But when we consider the undenied and undoubted dependence of the outward act on the inward volition, we very naturally and properly con- clude, that the supervision of the outward act is the result of the antecedent supervision of the inward principle of the will 5 in other words, the win. has its laws. IMPLIED IN MORAL GOVERNMENT. 151 §. 87. Laws of the will inferred from that accountability and dependence, which are implied in a moral government. Wherever there is a moral government, there is not only a higher or ruling power, hut an inferior one, which may he held accountable to it. If there is nothing, to which man is amenable, there certainly can be no accountability ; nor on the other hand can there be accountability, without some person or being, to whom such accountability attaches itself. Furthermore; accountability always implies the relation of dependence upon that higher Power or authority, whatever it may be, to which it must be rendered. Perhaps not dependence in every respect, but certainly a limited depen- dence. But it is evident, that man can never sustain the relation of dependence on a higher Power and of accountability to that power, without some medium of connection between the two. The proposition is wholly inadmissible and 'even inconceivable, that man can be dependent upon and accoun- table to the moral governor of the world, without any defi- nite channel of communication, and without any established and permanent methods of connection between himself and that moral governor. But if there be any connection between the accountable being and the being to whom the accountability is clue, that connection, under whatever form it may develope itself, must reach and affect the will. If there is no connection with the will, there is no connection with the man ; because, as we have already had occasion to remark, the act of the will is the result and consummation of all the other mental acts ; and accordingly it is that, which, in a very important -sense, constitutes the man. We are, therefore, necessarily 52 LAWS OF THE WILL, brought to the conclusion, that, if man is under a moral gov- ernment, and if, as implied in the idea of his being under such a government, he is dependent and accountable, the fact of this accountability and dependence must attach itself to the will in particular as the controlling power of his men- tal nature ; and that consequently the will is not contingent in its action and beyond the reach of laws. — It will be no- ticed here as in other cases, we do not state, what the pre- cise nature or extent of these laws is ; but merely assert the general fact of their existence. §. 88. Inferred also from the fact, that the- subjects of amoral government must be endued with adequate poxoers of obedience. As all moral government must have the right of exacting obedience from its subjects, it follows necessarily, that the subjects of such government must possess the requisite pow - ers of obedience ; not a mere transitory obedience yielded for a moment, but one, which is accordant to a prescribed course, and yielded for a length of time. But if the will, which is the governing power over men's actions, be not subject to laws, it is self-evident, that such a continued or protracted course of obedience cannot be rendered, even with the most favourable dispositions on the part of those from whom it is due. Man is in this case not under the control of himself ; he can never tell at one moment what he may do or be the next ; and it is altogether inadmissible, therefore, to suppose, that he can by his own act conform himself to the control of another. There may indeed be an occasional and momentary coincidence between his actions and the requisitions laid upon him ; but whenever this is the case, it is merely a matter of accident, and neither in fact nor in spirit comes up to the idea of that obedience, which is due to a moral governor. In a word, if the acts of the IMPLIED IN MORAL GOVERNMENT. ] 53 will are not based, as the occasions at least of their being called forth, upon any conditions whatever and are truly- contingent, man has no power to obey. And if he has no power of obedience, (using the term to mean a continued or protracted as well as momentary obedience,) tben he is un- der no obligation so to do. And moral government under such circumstances can never exist in respect to the human race. §. 89. Laws of the will inferred from that rationality which is essential to the subjects of a moral government. Again, if we look further into the elementary principles of moral government, we shall find, that this sort of adminis- tration differs from all natural or physical government in this respect, that its subjects are not only agents, but are neces- sarily rational agents. The attribute of rationality is abso- lutely essential to them, as accountable and moral beings. That is to say, their actions, so far as they are of a moral nature, are ultimately based upon the perceptions of our in- tellectual part or understanding. We can undoubtedly conceive of a purely sentient being, formed wholly of instincts, appetites, desires, and passions, without the intellectual endowments, (at least to any ex- tent worthy of notice,) of perceiving, comparing, abstract- ira^iand reasoning. Nor is the possibility of such a being left wholly to imagination, since we have abundant instan- ces in the brute creation around us. But such beings, wherever they may be found and whatever purposes more or less important they may answer in the arrangements of the universe, are not the subjects of moral emotions and of feel- ings of obligation, nor are they morally accountable. A sort of instinctive perception at once adjudges them incapa- 20 j 51 LAWS OF THE WILL ble of that higher destiny. Rationality, therefore, is an in- cident, or rather prerequisite of a moral nature. If man, therefore, is a rational being, which must be con- ceded as indispensable to the fact of his being in subjection to a moral government, then his actions, as has been stated, are ultimately based upon the perceptions of the under- standing. And if his actions are susceptible of being thus based and regulated, then the operations of the will may be regulated, (and must be regulated to the extent that the out- ward actions are,) in the same way, since the outward ac- tions have their origin in the decisions of the voluntary power. But if it be true, that the operations of the will are in this way connected, indirectly and ultimately at least, with the antecedent perceptions of the intellect, then they are subject to laws. There may indeed be, and there certainly are, emotions and desires and feelings of obligation intervening between the perceptions of the intellect and the acts of the will. But still the latter in all cases strike their roots through ihe intervening mental elements, and thrust themselves in- to the intellect as their original basis and support. Without this, man could not Avith propriety be denominated a rational being ; and with this he cannot with propriety be deemed a being, the acts of whose will are contingent. "One thing is clear and indisputable, says Mr. Stewart, that it is only in so far as a man acts from motives or intentions, that he is entitled to the character of a rational being. "*-In this passage it is in effect asserted as clear and indisputable, that man is a rational being, only so far as he acts from motives or intentions ; which of course implies, that the exercises of the will are put forth in connection with such motives or intentions, and are consequently subject to certain antecedent conditions or laws. The word intentions seems to express, not those acts of the sensibilities or heart which are in immediate contact with the will, but the antecedent perceptions of the intellect. ♦Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers, Append. I, §. 2d. IMPLIED IN MORAL GOVERNMENT. 155 §. 90. Laws of the will inferred from the fact that in the ad- ministration oj a moral government motives are employed. Let it further be remembered as a fixed principle in moral government, that it is sustained in its character of a moral government, not by the application of physical power, but by the presentation of motives. The fact, that men are influen- ced and directed by the motives set before them, is an en- couragement in the making of moral efforts, and in the use of such means, as are adapted to reclaim the vicious, or to strengthen habits of virtue. When men go astray, what can we do more in our attempts at reclaiming them, than apply promises, threatenings, and exhortations ? We address these to them as motives, expecting that they will be received, and have their influence as such. These are the means, which we employ, and we find that they meet with success. But liberate the will from all particular tendencies and law ; show that we are utterly unable to predict the nature of its acts under all circumstances whatever, and then there is no en- couragement to apply means for the attainment of moral ends ; there is no encouragement to moral efforts of any kind. When this is the case, we can never tell what is suita- ble to be addressed to men, in order to induce them to change their course of conduct. And moral government under such circumstances cannot exist. §. 91. Inferred also from the application of rewards and punishments. There is another point of view, in which the subject may be contemplated. Accountability, as has already been stat- ed, is essential to moral government. But accountability implies, that the person or persons, who are subject to it, may be called to an account ; and this of course implies, that 150 LAWS OF THE WILL the being, who has the right of calling them to such account, may inflict punishment in case of delinquency. In other words, wherever there is accountability, there is the correl- ative right of enforcing it ; that is to say, of punishing if necessary. But if volitions are independent of motives and are entirely contingent, no man can tell, as has already been intimated, at one hour or one moment what he will do the next ; he cannot possibly have any foresight even of his own actions, and cannot take measures to prevent those which are evil. In the estimation of a right conscience, there would be no more propriety in punishing such a man's actions, than in punishing a stone or a billet of wood, which ma3 r have accidentally been the occasion of some injury to us. As his Avill is beyond the reach of all laws, there are no principles by means of which its exercises can be subjected, (we do not say to the power of others merely,) but even to his own power. He is the sport of an unfathomable fortui- ty, a sort of foot-ball, impelled in every possible contrarie- ty of direction, the ceaseless but imbecile plaything of inex- plicable chance. Such a man certainly is not the proper subject of punishment. And for like reasons he is not the proper subject of rewards. §', 92. The same inferred from the fad, that the moral govern- ment of the present life is in its nature disciplinary. And there is yet another and distinct view of that moral government under which men are placed, which is especially worthy of notice in connection with the subject under consid- eration, The moral administration, to which men are sub- ject in the present life, is in its nature disciplinary. As far as man is concerned, it is not to be denied, that the present state of being is incipient and preparatory to another and ampler field of existence. It is here, on the field of action IMPLIED IN MORAL GOVERNMENT. 157 where we are now placed in the present life, that it is pro- posed to train up men for glory, honour, and immortality. The present is a state of probation preparatory to this end. And it will be kept in mind, that it is proposed to se- cure this result by trial, exposure, exercise, training, disci- pline. But a moral regimen of this kind implies, that there are evils to be encountered ; that there are duties to be perform- ed ; that there are obstacles to be overcome ; that there are temptations to be resisted ; and that men are not only to sustain' their souls in patience, meekness, and fortitude, but to purify them in the prospect of an ultimate triumph. But if the will be not subject to laws, all this is words without meaning. It must be obvious, that there can be no moral trial or discipline of man without temptation. And it is no less clear, that temptations must be ultimately addressed to the will, or they are nothing. My understanding, for in- stance, tells me, that the attainment of a certain object will be promotive of my present good ; my desires are strongly enkindled in view of that object ; my conscience condemns it ; and here undoubtedly is the basis, the preparatory condi- tions of the temptation. But still there must be some internal object, upon which the temptation presses ; some principle of the mental nature, upon which it is brought to bear. And where is this principle or power to be discovered, around which the strength of the temptation thus gathers, and en- ters into contest, if it be not the will ? — But if moral disci- pline, (at least that of the present life,) implies temptation ; and if temptation, as it obviously does, implies a pressure upon the will, then the will must be subject to laws. For if it be not subject to laws, there seems to be no possible way, in which the temptation can approach it, or exert any influ- ence upon it. That, which is without law either in mind or matter, is necessarily unapproachable, except by mere ac- cident. 158 LAWS OF THE WILL §. 93. That the will has laws implied in the existence of virtue and vice. Finally, if the will is truly contingent in its action and entirely without laws, it cannot fail to follow, that there is no tenable foundation of virtue and vice. — It is a common maxim, founded on the general experience and universally held to be true, that actions are reprehensible or otherwise, according to the designs, intentions, or motives, with which they originated. But if the acts of the will are perfectly contingent, (that is to say, are put forth without a regard to any thing else whatever,) then it is obvious, that designs or motives, considered in reference to such acts, are entirely excluded, and have no existence. It is evident that a man in that case can justly say of any action he performs, which is deemed by the community either virtuous or vicious, that it happened merely because it did happen ; that it came to pass without any forethought or intention or design on his part ; that he knows of no rational cause of its origin ; and in a word, that it is truly and wholly accidental. And is such a man, of whose actions these statements are undeniably true, to be either blamed or commended ? Where is the basis, in his actions or his character, of either morality or immorality ? Is he not beyond the reach, in every respect, of virtue and vice ? No one can be ignorant, that, when a man is arraigned on any accusation, one of the first inquiries is in respect to his designs or motives in perpetrating the alleged criminal act. By the law of the land, if a man has put another to death with malice aforethought, (that is, with an evil design or in- tention of so doing,) it is murder ; if the deed is committed in the violence of momentary passion, without any premeditated purpose, it becomes the diminished crime of manslaughter ; if it be what is called accidental, or in other words without ' IMPLIED IN MORAL GOVERNMENT. 159 any hostile feeling and without in the least intending or ex- pecting the result which followed, then it is no crime at all. And so on the other hand, if a man perforins a highly bene- ficial action, with the view and the intention of doing good, all men agree in pronouncing it virtuous and praiseworthy ; but if they discover the action to be wholly accidental, they equally agree in denying to its author any claims to moral merit and commendation. In a word the circumstance of an action's being accidental is understood to destroy its moral character. But what is the true idea or characteristic of an accident ? It is evidently that, which has no cause, no reason, no reference to any fixed principle. And every volunta- ry act, on the supposition of the will's not being subjected to law, is precisely conformed to this view. Every such volition is truly an accident. And as such, the common consent of man- kind would deny to it, both in itself and its results, the pos- session of any moral character whatever. It would not be difficult to point out passages- in writers of acknowledged value, going to confirm the various views of this chapter. On the subject of the present section, President Edwards expresses himself in the following deci- ded language. — " If it should be allowed that there are some instances wherein the soul chooses without any motive ; what virtue can there be in such a choice ? I am sure there is no prudence or wisdom in it. Such a choice is made for no good end ; for it is for no end at all. If it were for any end, the view of the end would be the motive exciting to the act ; and if the act be for no good end, and so from no good aim, then there is no good intention in it : and therefore, accord- ing to all our natural notions of virtue, no more virtue in it than in the motion of the smoke, which is driven to and fro by the wind, without any aim or end in the thing moved, and which knows not whither, nor why and wherefore, it is moved."* *Edward's Inquiry into the Will, Part in, §. 7th. CHAPTER FIFTH LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE PRESCIENCE OF THE DEITY. §. 94. The notion which men naturally form of the Deity implies foreknowledge. In proof of the general proposition, that the Will has its Laws, we now enter upon a distinct train of thought. In the present chapter we propose to bring forward in its sup- port the Prescience of the Deity. And accordingly it will be necessary to say something in support of the fact, that there is such prescience, or in other words that God foreknows whatever comes to pass. We do not however propose to enter at much length into this specific topic ; for the general acquiescence in the proposition of God's foreknowledge ren- ders it unnecessary ; but merely to suggest in relation to it one or two considerations. And we naturally remark in the first place, that the idea, which all men agree in formiug of the Deity, implies fore- knowledge. We say nothing here of the light, which Revelation throws upon this subject ; but refer merely to the notion of the Deity, which men form of themselves. The basis of this paramount idea is abundantly laid in the PRESCIENCE OF THE DEITY. 161 human constitution. We do not undertake to say it is innate, in the sense in which that^feerra has been commonly under- stood ; but merely assort, that the human mind is so consti- tuted, and is operated upon by such influences, that the idea of God arises in it naturally and certainly, unless there are some peculiar circumstances counteracting this tendency. Hence we find, in all countries and among all classes of men, in the cheerless hut of the Esquhneaux, in the rude dwellings of the uncivilized tribes inhabiting the islands of the Pacific, in the tent of the vagrant Arab, as well as among those who are refined by the arts and enlightened by science, the no- tion of a God. The conception may indeed be a feeble and imperfect one, compared with that developed in the Scrip- tures ; but feeble as it is, it always includes the idea of pres- cience or foresight in a much higher degree than is posses- sed by men. The very heathen would scoff at the idea of a God, whose knowledge is limited to the present moment. §. 95. The prescience of God involved and implied in his omniscience. But we are not left, in the consideration of this subject, to the suggestions,which are furnished by an examination of the opinions of men, however naturally they may have aris- en, or however widely prevailed. God has seen fit, in the exercise of his great mercy, to speak by his Revealed Word, and to pour the light of inspiration on the dim and uncertain light of human reason. He has declared himself to possess all knowledge . He, who is familiar with the Bible, cannot fail to recollect many passages, where this great truth ap- pears. The hundred and thirty ninth Psalm, one of the most striking and beautiful in that exceedingly interesting collec- tion of sacred poetry, turns almost exclusively upon the great, and wonderful knowledge of God. " Thou knoyyest 21 162 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED ray down- sitting and mine up-rising ; thou understandest my thought afar off. . Thou compassest my path and my ly- ing down, and art acquainted with all my ways." The Psalmist in another place, after asserting the greatness of the Lord and of his power, immediately adds, that his under- standing is infinite." In another passage of the Psalms of great sublimity, God is introduced as saying, "I know all the fowls of the mountains, and the wild beasts of the field are mine ;" expressions which convey a sentiment parallel to that of the New Testament, in the passages where it is as- serted, that not a sparrow falls without the notice of God, and that the hairs of our head are numbered. "Neither is there any creature, says the Apostle, that is not manifest in His sight ; but all things are naked and opened unto the eyes of Him with whom we have to do." The beloved Disciple says, "God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things."* But if God is omniscient, which is clearly implied or as- serted in these and many other passages, it follows of course, that he is able to foresee events, whatever they may be, which shall come to pass in future times. And let it be remembered here, that. God does not have a knowledge of things in precisely the same way as men have, viz, in success-ion, or as they arise before the mind's eye one after another; but on the contrary it seems rather to be the fact, that all the knowledge He possesses, whether more or less, exists in the perception of his mind simultaneously ; it is all taken in and contemplated at one view . With Him there is neither beginning of days nor end of years ; no present, past, nor future. And hence if we strike off from the great circle of his knowledge that part or section, which we denominate the future, his omniscience is at once shorn of the attribute of perfection, and is presented before us in a *Ps. 147, 5. 50, 10. Heb. 4, 13. First Epis. of John, 3d, 20. IN THE PRESCIENCE OF THE DEITY. 163 state of deformity and mutilation. And accordingly we as- sert, that the omniscience of God, a truth so obvious to rea- son and so abundantly taught in the Scriptures, implies the doctrine of prescience, and that he has a clear knowledge of all future events. §. 96. The prescience of God directly taught in the Scriptures. The divine prescience or foresight is not only implied in the omniscience of God, as that attribute is made known in the Scriptures, but is itself separately and distinctly made known in a multitude of passages. The Supreme Being himself, in the language ascribed to Him by the prophet Isaiah, asserts, " I am God and there is none like me, declar- ing the end from the beginning, and from ancient times the things that are not yet done." "Known unto God, says the Apostle James, are all his works, from the beginning of world. 1 ''* Nor does the doctrine of God's foreknowledge rest upon general statements alone ; but we have instances again and again of predictions, uttered long before the events came to pass, which were strictly fulfilled. The deluge was predic- ted one hundred and twenty years before it came on the face of the earth. It was foretold, that the children of Israel should be in bondage four hundred years. The cruel con- duct of the Syrian Hazael, and the deliverance wrought out by the hand of the Persian Cyrus, are matters of precise and specific prediction. The destruction of Babylon and of Nineveh, with many of the circumstances attending their overthrow, was predicted also. The coming and the preach- ing of Jesus Christ, and particularly his humiliation, trials, and death were foretold by the mouth of holy men, many years and even ages before the events themselves took place. The destruction of Jerusalem , (not to mention other * Isaiah 46 ch, 9, 10 v. Acts, ch. 15, 18 v, 164 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED instances equally decisive in their bearing on this subject,) was depicted long before it happened, and with a wonderful particularity and vividness. — In view of these facts and others like them, we have only to make the remark, and v/e do it with full confidence in its correctness, that predictions so numerous and specific, and so exactly fulfilled, could not have been uttered without the possession of foreknowledge or prescience on the part of their author. .§. 97. The foreknowledge of events implies the foreknowledge of volitions. And it is further to be noticed in regard to many, if not all the events, which have taken place in accordance with such predictions as those referred to in the last section, that they were dependent on the volitions of men. The volun- tary actions of men necessarily imply the antecedent exer- cise of volitions; and it is impossible, that any being whatever should foresee the actions without a foresight at the same time of their volitions. As an illustration, it was foretold to Abraham, that his descendants should go into Egypt and should take up their residence there; but such a prediction evidently implies a knowledge of all the circumstances, under which this event should take place, including in particular every motive and every volition connected with it. Such a prediction implies a knowledge not only of the volitions and acts of the immediate agents in the events foretold, but of those persons also, who were concerned in them incidentally and collaterally. In the present case it implies a knowledge of the jealousies of Joseph's brethren, and of their perverse and wicked conduct in selling him to the Ishmaelites; it im- plies a knowledge of the wants, interests, and motives of the Ishmaelites themselves ; not to mention the situation and potives of other individuals and bodies of men, which were IN THE PRESCIENCE OF THE DEITY. 165 undoubtedly among the preparatory steps and means to the wonderful events which followed. Every one knows, that events of the greatest magnitude are dependent upon circumstances apparently the most triv- ial. It is a remark of Dr.Dvvight, that the "motions of a fly are capable of terminating the most important human life, or of changing all the future designs of a man, and altering the character, circumstances, and destiny of his descendants throughout time and eternity."* Now if these things are so, it cannot for a moment be conceded, that God fore- knows and predicts events, without a knowledge of all those circumstances even the most trivial, upon which those events may, by any possibility, be dependent. In particular, and above all, He must be minutely and fully acquainted with the voluntary acts, (meaning by the phrase the volitions,) of the immediate agents in them. In foreseeing events, in which men are concerned, He must of course foresee what men will do ; but it is inconceivable, that he should know this without knowing what volitions they will put forth. §. 98. Of the reasonableness of the foregoing views. These views in regard to the extent and particularity of God's foreknowledge commend themselves at once to the common sense and feelings of men. It would be of but little avail to extol God as the Creator of all worlds and all beings, if he could not foresee what would be the result of their creation ; if he could not tell whether their existence would be beneficial or injurious to themselves or others. Existence is known, not only from what it is in itself, but from its is- sues. And if God has no foresight of the results of his works, He creates He knows not what ; and if He is igno- rant of his own works, no other being can be supposed to, *Dwight's Theology, Serm. VI. 166 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED have knowledge of them. Would such a God, supposing Him to be truly and fully the Creator of all things, be able to hold the reins of government over the things He had made ? Would He not be continually perplexed, and compell- ed at every turn in the affairs of the Universe to alter his plans ? Certain it is, that the doctrine, which denies the full and perfect prescience of the Deity, greatly degrades Him. It leaves Him at the mercy, as it were, of the most trifling circumstances. The movement of a single atom, as it is possible even for a matter so trivial as that to alter the des- tiny of a world, might perplex His wisest purposes, and de- feat his most benevolent plans. §. 99. Application of these views to the will. But if it satisfactorily appears, that God foreknows all things, particularly the volitions of men, then it clearly fol- lows, that the voluntary power has its laws. The opposite of a subjection to law, as has already been remarked, is per- fect contingency ; and the very idea of contingency or of contingent action, implies that it is something, which cannot possibly be foreknown. Whatever is foreknown must be foreknown to exist at a particular time or place or under some particular circumstances ; but that action or event, which it is ascertained and certain will exist at a particular time or place or under any particular and definite circumstan- ces, cannot with any propriety of language be deemed a contingent one. Since, therefore, nothing, which is fore- known, is contingent, and since the volitions of men are ob- viously the subjects of foreknowledge, it follows, that there must be some definite laws or principles, by Avhich the ac- tion of the voluntary power is regulated. IN THE PRESCIENCE OF THE DEITY. 167 §. 100. The views of this chapter in harmony with the doctrine of the influences of the Holy Spirit. As in some respects closely connected with the views of this chapter, we may here with propriety refer to the Scrip- ture doctrine, that God through the influences of the Holy Spirit has the power, and, when in his providence he sees fit, exerts the power, of enlightening, sanctifying, and guid- ing the minds of men. The reader of the Bible will natural- ly he reminded here of the Saviour's interesting expressions on this subject, which are found in the concluding chapters of the Gospel of John. — " I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for- ever." " And the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, He shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatso- ever I have said unto you." Johnxiv, 16,26. — " So they, being sent forth by the Holy Ghost, departed unto Seleu- cia." — Then Saul, who is also called Paul, filled with the Holy Ghost, set his eyes upon him, and said, O full of all subtlety," &c— " And were forbidden of the Holy Ghost to preach the word in Asia." Acts xm, 4, 9, xvi, 6. — " Which things also we speak, not in the words which man's wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth." 1 Cor. n, 13. — " Holy men of God spake, as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." 2 Pet. i, 21. All these passages and others like them necessarily and clearly imply, that there has not been an entire disruption and separation, at least in all respects, of man from his Ma- ker ; and that the human mind, however predisposed to re- bellion, is circumscribed and checked in its operations, and is held in subordination to the all-pervading and transcend- ent control of the Supreme Intelligence CHAPTER SIXTH. LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE PRESCIENCE OR FORESIGHT OF MEN. §. 101 . Man as well as Deity susceptible of foresight. It may perhaps be objected by some, that the argument drawn from the prescience of the Deity is less satisfactory than it would otherwise be, in consequence of the unspeaka- ble elevation and incomprehensibleness of the Divine Mind. That the divine mind is in some respects incomprehensible by man is true ; but it does not follow, that an argument, founded upon what we know and can understand of the di- vine nature, is therefore incomprehensible or even obscure. But whatever weight, whether more or less, may be conced- ed to this objection, we come to another view of the subject, analogous indeed to that of the last chapter, but drawn from a different source, and level to every one's comprehension. Man himself, restricted and dimmed as his conceptions un- doubtedly are, has a prescience of the future, a foresight of what is to come to pass, as well as the adorable Being who made him. Not in an equal degree indeed, but still in some degree. And this fact also goes to confirm the position, which we are now examining in regard to the will. PRESCIENCE OF MEN. 169 §. 102. Prescience or foresight of men in respect to their own situation and conduct. In the first place, man can foretell, (we do not say with perfect certainty, nor is that at all essential to our argument,) his own situation, actions, and success at some future time. Take a very simple illustration. A man proposes to go to Boston or New York, or to some place of common resort, no matter where it is^ for the purpose of transacting business there. The execution of a design of this nature, although it is difficult to mention one more common and simple, implies the putting forth of hundreds and thousands of volitions. And it is undoubtedly the fact, that the object in view cannot be effected without this great number of volitions. And yet we perceive that this person goes forward with confidence, and that he makes his calculations without fear, and with a feeling of certainty that he will be able to execute them. He evidently proceeds upon the supposition, (although he may not be fully conscious of it at the time, and may never have made it a matter of distinct reflection,) that the opera- tions of the will exist in reference to some fixed principles; and particularly in connection with motives in their various kinds and degrees. And looking at his proposed underta-- king with care, and understanding well the claims both of interest and duty, which are involved in it, he determines or wills in reference to the general plan before him, whatever it may be, without even doubting that all the future acts of the voluntary power will be accordant with its requisite de- rails ; and that in due season it will be brought to a fulfil- ment in all its parts. But we may assert with confidence, that this could never be done, if volitions were entirely con- tingent, in other words if they were without laws. For if 22 170 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED this last were the case, he would be just as likely to go to Providence as Boston, to Albany as New York, or to any other place whatever, as to that where he first determined to go; and would be just as likely to do the direct opposite as that particular business, which he designed to accomplish at his first setting out. — And the views, applicable in this particular case, will apply to the multiplied occurrences and duties of every week and day. And they furnish of them- selves, and independently of every other argument which may be brought up, but little' short of a demonstration of what we are attempting to establish. §. 103. Foresight of men in respect to the conduct of others. In the second place men are able to foretell, with a con- siderable degree of certainty, the situation, actions, and suc- cess of others at some future time. This is so notorious as not unfrequently to have elicited the remark, that there is a certain regular order in the conduct of men, in some degree analogous to the regular course of things, which we never fail to observe in the physical world. Men may every where be found, who would no more hesitate to predict the precise conduct of their neighbours in certain assignable circumstances, than they would to predict, that trees of a cer- tain kind would grow in a given situation. Some instances will illustrate what we mean. — A poor man have been written in illustration of the import of this single term. The prolific suggestions of the imagination and the ingen- ious speculations of the reasoning power have been put iu requisition for this purpose. And if to a considerable de- gree all these efforts have proved unsuccessful, may we not suppose, that it is owing, in part at least, to mistaken meth- ods of inquiry ? Or perhaps, if right methods have been pursued, the limits, which in the nature of things intercept and restrict their successful application, may not have been fully perceived. Certain it is, whatever flattering anticipa- tions may be entertained, and justly entertained too, of the progress of the human mind, there are some limits, which it cannot pass. And perhaps it is a charitable supposition, that many writers on this subject, in consequence of imper- fect apprehensions of the boundaries encircling and restric- ting the efforts of the intellect, have attempted too much,and have therefore failed in satisfactorily establishing any thing. §. 142. Freedom the name of a simple abstract idea. We have the authority of Mr. Locke for saying, (a posi- tion in which he is amply sustained by other writers on the Philosophy of the Mind,) that all our ideas may be divided into the two classes of Simple and Complex. Accordingly when we have fixed our attention upon any distinct subject of contemplation, and have resolved it into its parts, and have distinctly traced those parts to a position, where there is no longer a possibility of a separation of them, we have then reached a boundary of analysis, which it is not within 29 226 NATURE OF the capacity of the human mind to go beyond. The ele- ments of thought, which are disclosed in the issue of such a process, are entirely simple. Truly elementary and ulti- mate, they are deposited as deeply and strongly in the foun- dations of the edifice of intellectual perception, as it is pos- sible for them to be. They are to be regarded, therefore, as constituting knowledge, and that too of the highest kind, although it is equally true, that they are not susceptible of explanation, and that the person, who does not know them of himself and by virtue of his own mental action, can never know them from any other source. And in accordance with these views, our first remark in illustration of the nature of freedom or liberty is, that the term, when it is used abstractly, is the name of a simple thought or idea, the knowledge of which we cant derive from the mind itself alone. This remark we consider of no small importance, since it has a direct bearing on all attempts at a verbal explanation of freedom ; and indicates the possibility of such attempts being utterly futile. In taking this view, which we fully believe to be the only correct one, we are not wholly without the concurrence and authority of other writers. " La liberie, (says Thery in the Treatise referred to in the first Part of this work,) est indetermine meme. Comme lout ce qui est simple, elle nepeut se definer." §, 143. Occasions of the origin of the abstract idea of liberty. But in respect to all abstract notions or thoughts, (and the mere idea or conception of liberty is one of this kind,) there are two questions naturally presenting themselves ; the one just now remarked upon, whether the notion is sim- ple or complex ; the other, what is the occasion on which it arises. The occasion, on which the abstract idea of freedom is suggested to the intellect and becomes a part of our knowledge, is nothing else than the mind's action itself, in MENTAL FREEDOM. 221 those favoured moments when its operations are in fact free. At such times we of course have a consciousness of what is in reality the fact, viz. of the mind's operating in the pre- scribed sphere of its action,without impediment or hindrance. And it is then, that the abstract idea or notion of freedom arises or is evolved, (if we may be allowed so to speak,) by what may appropriately be called the power of Original Sug- gestion, in the same manner as the abstract ideas of existence, identity, duration, space intelligence, power, right, wrong, and a considerable number of others. The fact and realization of our existence is the occasion, on which the abstract idea of existence or being in general is brought up, (or to employ what may be called the technical term in the case,) is suggested to the mind. The fact and the realization of power in ourselves is the occasion, on which the abstract notion of power, which every one distinctly possesses, is suggested. And in like manner, whenever there is liberty of the mind in fact and in actual realization, we are so constituted, that we are always, and without any effort on our own part put in distinct possession of the abstract idea of liberty. §. 144. Of the undejinableness of the term freedom. Now if such be the origin of the abstract notion of free- dom, and if it be the name of a simple and not a complex idea, (as certainly there is every reason to believe it to be so,) then every one, who speaks of freedom or enters into a dis- cussion upon it, must be supposed to know of himself what freedom is. Certain it is if he pleads ignorance of the import of the term, we shall find ourselves wholly unable to make it known to him by any statements in language. It being the name of a simple idea, if we attempt to define it we must necessarily employ synonymous terms, and which require au explanation no less than the one in question. Every definition 228 NATURE OF of the name of a simple idea, which is not a synonym of the word itself or a synonymous phrase, is necessarily erroneous. And as a synonym or synonymous phrase cannot at all give us any new light in the matter, we are necessarily thrown hack upon our own experience for a knowledge of the thing under inquiry. §. 145. Supposed definitions of freedom mere synonyms. It may perhaps be useful to introduce one or two instances of definitions, which have been given by leading writers on the subject, in illustration and proof of our remark, that the term in question cannot be defined. Mr Hobbes defines it as follows. " Liberty is the absence of all impediments to ac- tion, that are not contained in the nature and intrinsic qual- ity of the agent." But the phrase absence of all impediments is obviously synonymous with liberty, and conveys no new idea. So that the definition, substituting other terms, amounts to this, and this merely ; that freedom is that liberty to action, which is contained in or permitted by the nature and intrinsic quality of the agent. Buffier gives the fol- lowing definition. "Liberty is the disposition a man feels within himself, of his capacity to act or not to act, to choose or not to choose a thing, at the same moment," Here the term capacity appears to be the synonymous expression. So that if we carefully reflect upon this definition, we shall probably find it amounting to merely this ; Liberty is the consciousness a man has of his freedom to act or not to act, to choose or not to choose. The definition, given by Dr. Reid, is this. " By the liberty of a moral agent, I un- derstand, a fower over the determinations of his own will." It is difficult to make any thing of this definition, because it seems to imply the existence of a will back of that,whose deci- sions are the immediate precur?ors of voluntary action. If it do not imply this, then all that is meant is, that the liberty MENTAL FREEDOM. 229 of a moral agent is his power to put forth voluntary deter- minations or acts of the will. And in that case power is the synonymous expression ; and if it bs not so, the difficulty is not at all removed ; for, if we suppose it to have a distinct meaning from liberty, that idea or meaning, whatever it may be, is simple and undefinable. But it is unnecessary to remark further. According to the best reflections we have been able to bestow, it is alto- gether useless to give a definition of liberty, because it is in the nature of the case impossible to do it; and is unadvi- sable also, because every supposed definition, so far from settling the subject, has been generally found to leave it open to long controversies and disputes. §. 146. Distinction between the idea and reality of liberty. But a distinction is to be made, which has already been hinted at, between the mere notion, the abstract idea of freedom and freedom itself; between the conception of it as an object of thought, and the possession of it as a reality and a matter of personal experience. We may have the ab- stract idea of freedom, just as we have the abstract concep- tion of power; and we may reason upon the abstraction of freedom just as we reason upon the abstract idea or abstrac- tion of power, without possessing either freedom or power in ourselves. The idea of liberty in the abstract is the result, the sug- gestion, or the creature even, of what is sometimes called the pure intellect ; that is to say, it is the result or sugges- tion of intellectual operations, which appear to be the most disconnected and removed from external material impressions. And as such, it is truly an intellectual entity; a real "and distinct object of contemplation, of knowledge, of reasoning. But after all it is to be noticed, that this is merely the idea of the thing, and not the thing itself; it is the intellectual \ 280 NATURE OF representative of liberty, but not the experience and the re- ality of liberty ; it is that which the veriest mental slave may conceive of and may speculate upon, as an object naked- ly and coldly suspended in the distance ; but which is very different from that, which the person, who actually possesses freedom, realizes as a thing near at hand, and enjoys as his own valued and personal possession. §. 147. Of the source of our knowledge of liberty itself in dis- tinction from the abstract idea of liberty. Of liberty in itself, in distinction from the abstract idea of liberty ; in other words, of freedom in the actual state of re- alization, we can have a knowledge by Consciousness, and by that alone. If a man, (we speak now of the mind of man and not of his body, and of the mind in a condition of men- tal soundness, and not in a state of either total or partial in- sanity,) truly feels himself to be free, we seem to have no alternative but to take it for granted that he is so. This is something ultimate; we cannot go beyond nor around it ; being based upon an original and ultimate feeling, it is of course founded in one of the deepest and surest sources of knowledge; and we are under a sort of necessity, therefore, of admitting, that the consciousness and the realization, the knowledge and the fact go together. And in connection with this view, we shall not hesitate to assume, that each one is] not only disposed to consult his consciousness, but to rely confidently on its intimations. We make this assumption, because we know of no other way in which it is possible for him, on a subject of this na- ture, to arrive at distinct and satisfactory conclusions for himself, or to understand the statements of others. If free- dom, in its essence and realization, is what it is known to be in our consciousness, and that too without the possibility of its being any thing else, then surely, however difficult it may MENTAL FREEDOM. 2B1 be to give a definition of the abstract idea of freedom, we may enter on the examination of the subject-matter before us with entire confidence, since it is one, according to the view now given, which necessarily comes within the range of each one's personal knowledge. §. 143. Of the precise import of the phrase moral liberty. We close the suggestions of this chapter with a single remark more. — It is not uncommon to hear persons using the phrase moral liberty; and particularly in its applications to man. But the thought naturally arises, what is the distinc- tion between moral liberty and any other liberty ? To this inquiry it may be answered, that the phrase moral lib- erty indicates not a difference in the essence of liberty or in the liberty itself, which we have reason to believe is the same, so far as it exists at all, in all beings whatever from the highest to the lowest; but must be understood to express merely a difference in the capacity or sphere of the mind, of which it is predicable. The liberty of brutes is as perfect in its sphere, as that of men or angels. As they roam in for- ests and mountain wildernesses, or swim in the depths of the ocean, or fly and gaily sing in the radiant fields of the sum- mer's sky, they are free; they rejoice in their freedom ; and prize it as one of heaven's best gifts. But we never think of ascribing to them moral liberty, simply because, so far as we are able to learn, they have not a moral nature, as man has. The sphere of man's liberty is enlarged so as to em- brace moral considerations, those feelings of approval, disap- proval, and moral obligation, which are implied in moral accountability. Accordingly when we speak of man's moral liberty, or of man as morally free, we mean merely to ex- press the fact, that man is a free being, the sphere of whose liberty and action is so enlarged as to embrace moral con- siderations or moral principles of action. CHAPTER SECOND MENTAL HARMONY THE BASIS OR OCCASION OF MENTAL FREEDOM. §. 149. Statement of the inquiry in this chapter. What has been said so far on the general subject of Liberty relates to the abstract idea of liberty, the origin and nature of that idea, the realization or actual existence of liberty in ourselves in distinction from the mere abstract notion, and the manner in which we have a knowledge of liberty thus exis- ting in ourselves, viz, by Consciousness. It is a distinct inquiry, (and undoubtedly one worthy of some attention,) what that precise state of mind is, in connection with which liberty exists. In other words, what are the precise condi- tions or prerequisites of mind, essential to mental liberty ? If we are at liberty to suppose, as undoubtedly we are, that there are or may be certain circumstances or conditions of the mind, which are inconsistent with its freedom, it seems naturally to follow, that there are other circumstances or conditions, upon which its freedom, whenever it exists, is based, or which are essential to it. What are these precise circumstances ? What is this precise situation of the mind ? THE BASIS OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 233 We are aware, that this is a question, which it is more easy to propose, than satisfactorily to resolve. At any rate it is probahle, that different persons would resolve it in dif- ferent ways. In giving an opinion therefore on this subject, which we cannot well avoid doing, we wish to be understood, as fully admitting, that the views of others may be found on examination to be equally satisfactory, and perhaps more so. With this remark we shall state explicitly what our opinion is; premising particularly, however, that we are now speak- ing of freedom as existing in the highest degree, or the 'perfec- tion of freedom. §. 150. Occasions on which liberty exists. If men will but carefully inquire and consider, they will not fail to perceive, that all things are in harmony, or were designed to be so. There is a harmony of the various parts of the external world ; there is a harmony of the parts of the human body ; there is also a harmony of the mind ; by which we mean there is a perfect symmetry and adaptation of the parts of the mind, each part being appointed to operate in its appropriate sphere; and, so far as it fulfils the inten- tions of nature, never infringing upon another part, whose sphere of operation is different. Now when each part oper- ates in this way; when there is truly a harmony of move- ment, every thing being equable, proportionate, and in its proper place ; when each power performs its functions with- out any unavoidable perplexity existing in itself or any in- fringement originating from some other source, we are then conscious of liberty in the highest sense of the term. He, who has no knowledge of liberty at such a time ? never will have; and it is wholly useless to reason with such a person on this subject. The consciousness of liberty, which natural- ly exists under such circumstances, is the only source of cue 30 234 MENTAL HARMONY knowledge in relation to it. A thousand mere speculations could never furnish the information which we have from that source ; nor could they ever have weight in opposition to the authority of that ultimate tribunal. §. 151. Of the circumstances under which this mental harmony may be expected to exist. But perhaps it may be objected, that these views, how- ever plausible they may be in theory, are useless and nuga- tory in their application, because there is no rule or measure, upon which the internal harmony depends and to which it may be referred. And certainly there would be something in such a suggestion, if it were well founded. But we think we may venture to say it is not so. It must, however, be admit- ted, if there is harmony in the mind, there must be more or less of subordination in the parts; and that if there is sub- ordination in some parts, there must be ascendancy and con- trol somewhere else. And this leads to the further remark, that it seems to be a proposition, satisfactorily established by writers on mental philosophy, that Conscience is, in some sense of the term, a governing and controlling power of the mind. Harmony, as it is capable of existing and is required to exist in the human mind, is by the appointment of God; and conscience, as the vicegerent of God in the human breast, indicates and rewards the fulfilment of this benevo- lent purpose. Conscience, however, is not so much a gov- erning power in the executive as in the legislative sense of the term; not so much in the capacity of actually carrying into effect, as in the office of guiding, prescribing, and reg- ulating. In the executive sense of the term the will is the presiding and controlling power, while the functions of con- science are more of an advisory and consultative kind. Ac- cordingly when all the appetites, propensities, and passions THE BASIS OF MENTAL FREEDOM 235 are kept within their due bounds, we are reminded of this desirable state of things, and are encouraged to secure its permanency, by an internal approbation, and on the other hand, if they exceed those limits, we feel an internal reproof and condemnation. So that when we assert the harmony of the. mental acts to be the true and undoubted occasion, on which we are conscious of the existence of mental freedom in the highest degree, it is essentially the same as to say, that the occasion of this consciousness is to be found in a condition of the mental acts or operations, conformed to the requirements of conscience. And as conscience is a principle, instituted by God himself,and is designed to intimate his will, we may go further and say, that the occasion, on which we are conscious of mental freedom in the highest degree, is to be found in a condition of the mental acts, conformed to the requirements of the Supreme Being. It is conscience, (of course we mean an enlightened and right, and not a perverted conscience,) which, acting in the name of the great author of the mind, marks out their res- pective boundaries to its various powers and tendencies ; which says to this appetite and that desire, to this propensi- ty and that passion, thus far must thou go and no further; within these limits your operations are innocent, beyond them are criminal; within them there is freedom, beyond them there is enthralment, §. 152. Opinions of Bishop Butler on conscience. A number of English writers have proposed these views, or views essentially similar to them, in reference to con- science, particularly Bishop Butler. In his celebrated ser- mons on Human Nature he represents conscience as distin- guishing between the internal principles of man's heart, as wellas between his external actions ; as passing judgment 236 MENTAL HARMONY both upon the one and the other; as pronouncing, by its own proper authority, some things to be in themselves right and good, and others to be evil and wrong. Some of his illustrations and statements are as follows. " Consider all the several parts of a tree without the natural respects they have to each other, and you have not at all the idea of a tree; but add these respects, and this gives you the idea. The body may be impaired by sickness, a tree may decay, a machine be out of order, and yet the system and constitu- tion of them not totally dissolved. There is plainly some- what which answers to all this in the moral constitution of man. Whoever will consider his own nature, will see that the several appetites, passions, and particular afFections,have different respects among themselves. They are restraints upon, and are in proportion to each other. This proportion is just and perfect, when all those under principles are perfectly coincident with conscience, so far as their nature permits, and in all cases under its absolute and entire direc- tion. The least excess or defect, the least alteration of the due proportions amongst themselves, or of their co-inci- dence with conscience, though not proceeding into action, is some degree of disorder in the moral constitution." * §, 153. Reference to the opinions of Dr. Price on this subject. As this view of the true occasion or basis of mental free- dom may be attended with difficulties in the minds of some, we must ask the patience of the reader, while we introduce to his notice some statements from the writings of Dr. Price. The object, for which the passage is introduced, will be kept in recollection, viz, in confirmation of the doctrine, that the mind is constituted on the principle of a subordination in its parts, and that there exists in the mind itself a power, which * See Butler's 2d and 3d Sermons on Human Nature and the Note. THE BASIS OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 237 indicates, when this principle is conformed to, and when it is violated. In other words, that the original state of the mind is a state of harmony, and that there is in the mind a power, whose appropriate duty it is to indicate the devia- tions from that state of harmony. As to what that power is which has this authority, although we cannot doubt that the view of Butler is entirely the correct one, that is a matter, which is of subordinate consequence, so far as the subject now directly before us is concerned. " The conscience of a man is the man ; the reflecting principle is our supreme principle. It is what gives our dis- tinction as intelligent creatures; and whenever we act con- trary to it, we violate our natures, and are at variance with ourselves. There are biasses or determinations given us by the author of our beings which we might have wanted, and which are intended to be subordinate to reason. Now lib- erty being an exemption from all such force as takes away from us the capacity of acting as we think best, it is plain that whenever any passion becomes predominant within us, or causes us to contradict our sentiments of rectitude, we lose our liberty, and fall into a state of slavery. When any one of our instinctive desires assumes the direction of our conduct in opposition to our reason, then reason is overpow- ered and enslaved, and when reason is overpowered and enslaved, we are overpowered and enslaved. On the other hand, when our reason maintains its rights, and pos- sesses its proper seat of sovereignty within us; when it con- trols our desires and directs our actions so as never to yield to the force of passion, then are we masters of ourselves, and free in the truest possible sense. A person governed by his appetites is most properly a slave. To will (as St. Paul speaks) is present with him, but how to perfotfm that ivhich is good he knows not. What he would that he does not. But what he 233 MENTAL HARMONY hates, that he does. He delights in the laiv of God after the in- ward man; but he has another law in his members warring against the law of his mind, and bringing him into captivity to the law of sin. Rom. vii. 22 and 23. There is but one just authority in the mind, and that is the authority of conscience. Whatever conquers this, puts us into a state of oppression." * §. 154. Objected that perfect harmony of the mind is not reali- zed here. It may be objected perhaps, that, in view of what has been said, there is no mental freedom at all in the present state of existence; at least that there is not the highest de- gree or perfection of mental freedom; since it is evident, and is universally admitted, that the harmony of the human mind is, in a great degree, destroyed. Take the most moral man in society, or even the man, who together with mere out- ward morality is the most deeply imbued with the spirit of the Gospel, and it is a fact too obvious, and too much to be lamented, that there is a want of harmony, that the soul sometimes sends forth jarring and discordant voices, and not always that sweet music, which breathes from minds in a purer state of existence. His love to God does not always possess that intensity and uniformity, which ought to be characteristic of it; his love to his fellow creatures, although he may be in the main anxious for their good, is subject to variations discreditable to the fervour of his benevolence and offensive to God; his evil passions are not always suita- bly rebuked and repressed,but sometimes reign for hours and even days & weeks. Such at his best estate is man in the pres- sent life. His bosom is not the placid lake, but rather the "torn ocean's roar." There are discordant voices, and con- testing movements, and more or less of internal jarring and * Price's Sermons. — See the Sermon on Spiritual or Inward Liberty. THE BASIS OP MENTAL FREEDOM. 229 uproar and confusion, as when the fountains of the " great deep" were broken up, and the floods came, and the beauti- ful face of the world was overwhelmed with the inroads and the desolations of the waters. To the truth of this statement of man's condition we are obliged to assent. It is too obvious to admit of a denial. And it follows of course, that the perfection of liberty is but too seldom realized in the present life. If we wish, therefore, to contemplate liberty in its perfection, let us look at God. In that glorious Being all is harmony. In Him, wisdom, and benevolence, and justice, and voluntary power are all blended in due proportions ; are all active in their appropriate spheres without any interference, forming a constellation and inseparable cluster of light without any shades crossing their path, or any darkness at all. And in Him, more than in any other Being, there is perfect liberty. And let us look moreover at angels and seraphims, aud all the spotless companies and princely hosts that bow in his pres- ence and cast their crowns at his feet, and it is the same. Their souls, although infinitely removed from Him in point of capacity, are yet, in their moral nature and in their more limited sphere, the perfect mirror and reflex of His. And with them also, in that sphere, whatever it may be, which God has been pleased to assign them, there is undoubtedly the brightness and the perfection of liberty. §. 155. Perfection of mental harmony and consequent mental liberty illustrated from the character of the Savior. But is there not perfect liberty of the mind on earth ? Adam before he fell enjoyed this perfection of freedom. In the second Adam too, the man Christ Jesus, who was temp- ted in all points as we are and yet without sin, it existed in the highest possible degree. Follow him in the vicissitudes 240 MENTAL HARMONY of his life; mark him in the various situations of temptation, trial, suffering. See him the son of a carpenter, and himself employed in the calling of his fathers ; see him at a little later period with his whip of thongs expelling with righteous indignation the money changers from the Temple; see him in the synagogue and the wilderness, in preaching and in prayer, smitten with the mid-day sun, and chilled with the drops of the night ; behold him with the sorrowful and the rejoicing, at the marriage feast of Cana, and at the tomb of Lazarus ; behold him mingling with all classes, and anxious for the good of all, seeking to benefit alike the high and the low, the priest in his robes, and the publican sitting at the receipt of customs, the young man of great possessions, as well as such as were halt and blind; behold him praying and agonizing in Gethsemane, and agonizing, and supplicating, and dying on the Cross. It is difficult to conceive of any one, who was placed in a greater diversity of situations, and exposed to a greater mixture and contrariety of influences. But in that mind there was entire and perfect harmony. The appetites, the propensities, the affections, (for he had them all, and not only that, he was tried or tempted in them all,) never violated their clue boundaries ; but always acted in complete conformity with the law of rectitude implanted in the soul. As there was perfect harmony, there was per- fect liberty; and as there was liberty there was peace; even that peace which passeth understanding. As Christ is set before us as an example, that we should follow him, we are certainly not to consider it as an impossi- bility for us to realize in our own souls the same complete- ness of mental harmony and the same perfection of inward liberty. It is the duty of all to strive to free themselves from the bondage under which they labour, and to secure, with the blessing of God, a restoration to that state from which they have fallen. And who will undertake to say, THE BASIS OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 241 that there may not be a restoration to that state of inward harmony, purity, and peace in the present life ; if not through the whole course of a life or even a year, yet in some fa- vored moments, when the earnest strivings of the creature are blessed by the presence and the aids of the Creator ? " Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty" ; not merely liberty in heaven but liberty on earth ; not merely an exemption from ceremonial thraldom, but from the great- er load of spiritual thraldom ; and we may add, as we are not authorized to limit the operations of that Spirit of the Lord, so we are not authorized or permitted to deny the pos- sibility, however seldom it may be the case in fact, of the completeness or perfection of liberty. If we are not wholly lovers of God, it is because we are still the lovers of some iniquity ; and if we are not wholly free, it is because we choose not to be so. §. 156. Objected that the foregoing views are necessarily and in their very terms inconsistent with liberty. But it may perhaps be objected, that the subordination of the various parts of the mind to the authority of con- science, which, inasmuch as it constitutes the true harmony of the mind, is the occasion and basis of the actual realiza- tion of perfect liberty, is even in its very terms a statement of restraint and enthralment. But can we with propriety, when we carefully examine the subject, concede any weight to such an objection ? Every thing, which exists, must have its appropriate nature, and consequently its prescribed sphere of action. Subordination, if there be indeed a Supreme Power to whom every thing else is amenable, must necessa- rily be the very condition of existence. It is a very errone- ous notion, which supposes, that mental liberty necessarily implies insubordination ; as much so as to suppose that there can be no civil freedom without popular licentiousness. 31 242 MENTAfc HARMONY. Without subordination, secured by some ascendant and per- manent principle, each inferiour principle and power of hu- man nature would leave its appropriate sphere, and com- mence an invasion on that of its neighbour. Such a state of things would necessarily be an infringement upon and a destruction of all liberty. We hold it to be self-evident, that no being, attribute, or faculty can be considered as free in the highest sense of that term, whenever there is a violation of the elements of its nature ; or what is the same thing, when there is an inter- ruption or hindrance from another source of the tendencies of those elements. Now the mind, though it is one and indivi- sible in its nature, is exceedingly multiplied and complex in its modes of operation. And each of these modes of opera- tion, (we speak not now of particular acts of the mind but of classes of acts,) has its definite limits and its specific and unalienable character, in other words a nature of its own ; so much so that there rs an entire propriety in speaking of the distinct faculties of the mind. But if these faculties or powers have a nature of theirown, they can be free and free only, at least in the highest and most ennobling sense of that term, when they are permitted to act in accordance with that nature. Now as every faculty of the mind exists and ope- rates in connection with other faculties, there must be in the mind some ascendant and authorized power, which can in- dicate to each its appropriate limits or sphere. And as these spheres of action are adapted to each other with perfect symmetry, there cannot be a transgression or passing over of one sphere, without an invasion of another ; there cannot be an excess of liberty in one, without a diminution of lib- erty in another. Hence we see, that, from the nature of the case, a due subordination in the powers of the mind is not inconsistent with the liberty of each power in itself, and is absolutely essential to the liberty of every other power. And this view seems to us fully to answer the objection above referred to. CHAPTER THIRD FREEDOM OF THE WILL. §. 157. Remarks on the nature of the freedom of the will. The remarks, which have been made in the two preceding chapters, are to some extent of a general nature, being ap- plicable to the mind as a whole, as well as in its parts ; and susceptible of an application not only to the human mind, but to all minds. The whole subject of the nature of free- dom is one of great importance, and it is also one of no in- considerable difficulty ; and it seemed, therefore, to require, those general illustrations. We hope from what has been said on the nature of freedom in general, that it will be ea- sy to understand what is meant by the freedom of the will. We do not suppose, (and we have already suggested reasons for the remark,) that the freedom of the will, when contem- plated directly and in itself, either is, or ever will be, a mat- ter of verbal explanation ; no mere form of words can of it- self fully explain what freedom is, either when predicated of the will, or of any other form or action of the mind. But still we trust, that, with the help of the general statements which have been made, it will be found a matter of clear in- 244 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. tellectual perception ; and that if it should elude and baffle the powers of language to express it, it will still be found fully within the comprehension of thought. It does not follow, because the element of freedom is, in some respects, of too subtile a nature to be embodied in the massive forms of speech, that it is therefore too subtile and etherial to be approached and apprehended by the mind. There are many things, which are known and are under- stood, at least enough so for all practical purposes, but which cannot be explained by any statements in language, so as to make them clearer. It may be impossible for me to explain by a mere form of words what is meant by my existence ; but I fully know, as every body else does in res- pect to himself, what my existence is in experience and in fact. In like manner it is impossible for me to explain what the freedom of the will is in words, but I know what it is in experience and in fact ; and have never been destitute of that knowledge ; and it is impossible that I should be desti- tute of it. If the will were some material object, I could probably explain by words what is meant by its freedom; but as it is immaterial and mental, we are obliged to leave it to each one's internal examination and consciousness. §. 158. Of the relation of the freedom of the will to the fact of its subjection to law. But the inquiry may arise in the minds of some, how can it be possible that the will should be free, and at the same time subject to law ? No doubt some persons fully enter- tain the idea, that the doctrine of the will's subjection to law, which is clearly susceptible of accumulated and irresisti- ble proof, necessarily involves, that the voluntary faculty is destitute of liberty. But if we rightly understand the mat- ter, the fact is entirely the reverse of what is here supposed to be the case. The opinion, which for various reasons we FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 245 deliberately and fully embrace, is, that, without laws of the mind, there is no liberty of the mind; neither liberty in fact, nor even a possibility of it. Law and liberty necessarily go together. In the order of their existence law precedes liberty; and it is in that order they are most naturally con- templated. Where there is perfect liberty, as we have al- ready had occasion to notice, there is perfect harmony; but there cannot be perfect harmony, nor harmony in any de- gree, without law. But the Creator has wisely and kindly taken this matter into his own hands. He has stamped upon the mind in letters of light, so that he who runs may read them, that the whole economy of the mind is subject to the oversight and regulation of fixed principles or laws. And in doing this, he has at the same moment, and by one single act, laid the broad and deep foundations of control and of subordination, of harmony and of freedom. But we may go further than this, and come more closely to the matter, which is directly before us. We may safely take the position, that the will could not enjoy freedom, either in a higher or less degree, if it were not in itself, and considered separately from all other powers, subject to law. If the acts of the will were guided by no principles whatev- er, if they were beyond the reach of all su perintendance and regulative control, they would necessarily be thrown into the arras of a blind and inflexible destiny. If it could be shown, that the will is not subject to law, it would of course follow, that it is the subject of mere con- tingency and accident, which entirely and fully comes up to the utmost idea of fatality. And it would be found to be a fatalism of the worst kind, an unintelligent fatalism. — But having proved, that the will, as well as the other mental powers, has its laws, we secure in that single fact the pos- sibility of liberty, which we could not have without it. We are accordingly in a situation, in which the liberty of £46 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. the will, that important and noble attribute of a morally ac- countable nature, is not necessarily excluded ; which would certainly be the case, if the will were driven about hither and thither, without any possible foresight of what is liable to take place,|and without any regularity of action. §. 159. Circumstances or occasions under which freedom of the will exists. Although, in entering into the subject of the freedom of the will in particular, in distinction from the general nature of freedom, we do not profess to go into verbal explanations and definitions, something may nevertheless be said in rela- tion to the occasions or circumstances, under which it exists. — In respect to the occasions, on which the freedom of the will exists, but little more remains to be done than apply the remarks made on the general subject of freedom in the preceding chapter. If there is perfect harmony in other parts of the mind, there will be perfect freedom in the will; if every appetite and propensity and passion is precisely what it should be, the voluntary power cannot possibly ex- perience any pressure, which will interrupt or diminish that degree of liberty, which is essential to or compatible with its nature. This topic may perhaps be susceptible of illustration by a reference to the Supreme Being. If freedom can, with propriety and justice, be predicated of any being whatever, it is certainly predicable of the Supreme Being; and predi- cable not only in general terms, but of the will in particular. We hazard nothing in saying, that liberty of the will is pos- sessed by Him in the highest possible degree. And we cannot conceive bow it should be otherwise, when we con- sider that the elements, both moral and intellectual, by which it is surrounded, are in perfect harmony with each other. — And if we turn our attention to any other high and holy be- FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 247 ings, such as are nearest in glory to the Supreme Author of all things, it is the same. The will of angels and of arch- angels and of all other orders of holy beings, that encircle with their songs of praise the Divine Throne, possesses, within the appropriate sphere of its action, the highest de- gree of freedom. All the various elements, which go to constitute them intelligent and moral beings, are restricted to their proper place, and operate in their due proportion. Their perceptions, so far as they go, are in perfect accor- dance with the truth of things. Their emotions are such as God, who takes supreme delight in perfect rectitude, can entirely approve. Every desire, which they exercise is in its right place; their love to God is just such as it should be; their love to other holy beings corresponds precisely to the nature of the object towards which it is directed; their aversion to sin and sinful beings is just such, and fully and entirely such, as is appropriate and right ; and it is precisely the same in respect to every other emotion and desire. And the consequence is, there is no disturbing force in the neighborhood of the will; there is no possible motive to sway it from the line of perfect rectitude; and hence it is true, that their will, although it always operates in the direc- tion of the highest rectitude and good, is always at liberty; and this liberty exists too in the highest possible degree. And hence we assert, in respect to all minds, whether they are higher or lower in the scale of being, that perfect harmo- ny is the appropriate element of perfect freedom ; and that every diminution of harmony will be attended with a corres- ponding diminution of liberty. And this is as true of the separate parts or powers of the mind as of the whole; and is as true of the will as of any other part. <§. 160. Evidence of the freedom of the will from consciousness. Having made the foregoing remarks in explanation of the 243 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. nature of the freedom of the will, and of the occasions on which it exists, we are now prepared to proceed to a consid- eration of the proofs in support of the position, that there is such a freedom. And we accordingly remark, that the doctrine of the freedom of the will is sustained, in the first • place, by consciousness. — When we assert that men have a knowledge of the freedom of the will by consciousness, we mean merely to declare, that such knowledge is the result of an inward conviction, an internal experience. In other words every man knows himself, in the exercise of volition, to be free. It is a knowledge which we possess, not by deduction, but by a species of intuitive conviction ; not by inference, but by an original perception. We do not propose to occupy time in expanding this view ; since it is a matter, which every one understands, and in respect to which it is presumed there is hardly a pos- sibility of mistake or of controversy. And the argument is as decisive, as it is plain and simple. Some writers, indeed, have even been disposed to rely upon this argument alone. They consider it, (and perhaps it may be admitted, with en- tire justice and correctness,) as conclusive against any con- siderations, which may be adduced adverse to it. " Our own free-will, says Mr. Stewart, we know by conscious- ness; and we can have no evidence of any truth so irresis- tible as this." §. 161. Of an objection to the argument from consciousness. It ought to be noticed, however, that from time to time a few individuals have been found, who have asserted the opposite, viz, a consciousness of internal compulsion or sla- very. Surprising as such a declaration is, we are bound in candour to receive it as truly indicating the internal experi- ence of those who make it, although it may be in opposition to the testimony of thousands and even hundreds of thou- FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 249 sands to one. But these exceptions do not at all overthrow our argument. If there truly be such exceptions, they can undoubtedly be explained in entire consistency with the general truth, that the freedom of the will is ascertained and proved by the consciousness of mankind. Is it not true, is it not accordant with common experience and with the Scriptures even, that any man and every man may enslave himself ? And when that is the case, what could we expect but that consciousness, the true index of what takes place within, should bear its testimony to a state of thraldom ? If then these persons are not conscious of freedom of the will, may we not safely say, it is not the work of their Cre- ator, but their own ? Certain it is, if we permit any one of the appetites, propensities, or passions continually to ex- tend and strengthen itself by being continually repeated, it will eventually gain the ascendency over and subdue all the rest of the mind. If/or instance a man indulges, year af- ter year, the consuming propensity of ambition, it ultimate- ly so disorders the proper action of the mental powers, and acquires such immense strength, that he feels himself driven by a sort of compulsion; he undoubtedly recognizes in him- self, as he asserts to be the case, the impulse of a species of destiny, which however is of his own creation. By his own criminal improvidence and not by any inward and irresisti- ble fatality, he has lost control of the helm, and is driven forward amid billows and tempests to his destruction. Such cases undoubtedly exist, but they cannot with pro- priety be regarded in any other light than that of exceptions to the general rule, and which are susceptible of an expla- nation in consistency with the general experience of man- kind. That experience, (the inward testimony or conscious- ness, which the great mass of mankind has,) most decidedly testifies to the liberty of the will. 32 250 FREEDOM OF THE WILL: §. 162. Evidence of the wilVs freedom from the nature of motives. The nature of motives, among other things, appears to furnish an argument on the matter hefore us. It appeared in the Chapter on that subject, that motives are coexistent with volitions ; that the will acts in view of motives and never acts independently of them ; that, although its acts are its own and are to be regarded and spoken of as its oivn, yet motives furnish the condition or occasion, (and we may add the indispensable occasion,) on which its ability to put forth those acts is exerted. Here is at least one great law, to which the will is subject ; and it is one, which comes direct- ly and constantly under our observation. But it is worthy of notice, that we are obliged to rest satisfied with this law, as it comes to us in its general form and as it is stated in gen- eral terms, without the ability of going within the circle it draws around the will and seeing it carried into effect in particulars. Whether the influence of law draws itself more closely around the will or not, than is implied in the gener- al proposition of the will's action being restricted to the oc- casions furnished by motives ; and if it does, in what way this more intimate influence is carried into effect, is a mat- ter in both respects, which we venture to assert the mind of man has never yet penetrated, and probably never will pen- etrate. But, to come to the point which we had particularly in view, although motives are the condition or preparative or occasion of the will's action, yet when we consider that the motives placed before the will are oftentimes essentially dif- ferent from each other, being various in kind as well as de- gree, so much so as not to admit of a direct comparison, we are able distinctly to conceive, how the will may act in con- FREEDOM OP THE WILL- 25\ nection with motives and yet have a true and substantive power in itself; how it may be subject to law and yet be free. In other words, although motives are placed round about it, and enclose it on every side, it has the power of choosing, (or if other expressions be preferable,) of deci- ding, determining, or arbitrating among them. Although it is shut up within barriers, which God himself has instituted, it has a positive liberty and ability within those barriers. Although its operations are confined within a sphere of action, which is clearly and permanently marked out by its maker, yet within that sphere, (the proposition of the will's subjection to law still holding good,) its acts- emanate in itself. Although in some important sense the will is the creature of God, and is dependent upon God, and all its acts are God's acts ; yet at the same time, taking the facts just as they are presented and stand before us, it has a vitality of its own, a theatre of movement appropriate to itself, and all its acts are its own acts. This is the position undoubtedly, in which God has seen fit to place the subject before the hu- man mind, as if he would instruct us at the same moment, both in our weakness and strength, our power and depen- dence. But when we have stated this, we have stated all ; we have arrived at an unfathomable mystery, which, as we have already said, the limited mind of man will probably never penetrate. The facts are demonstrable, but the manner of them exceeds our comprehension. We see the evidencies of law, and we know beyond all doubt and question that laws of the will exist ; but at the same time, if the distinc- tion of motives into personal and moral be correct, we are not able to bind the ligatures of law so closely around the domains of the will, as to shut out the possibility either of its power or its freedom. That is to say, while the human mind can establish and prove to demonstration the proposi- 252 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. tion, that the will is subject to law, it is obliged to rest in the general proposition that such is the fact; it can go no further ; it cannot, by any exercise of fair reasoning, so ap- ply the principle to the will as not to leave an ample sphere both for its liberty and its power. We are permitted, for wise purposes, to see, that God is our sovereign and our mas- ter, to see that not only the hairs of our head are numbered, but that even our inmost purposes are under his control, and to see it clearly, distinctty, and undeniably; but in such a way as to leave it both possible and demonstrable, that we possess in ourselves the elements, (and to an extent invol- ving the most solemn responsibility,) of power, of freedom, and of moral accountableness. §. 163. Objected that the will is necessarily governed by the strongest motive. But it will perhaps be said by way of objection, that the will is necessarily governed by the strongest motive, or at least that it necessarily acts in view of the strongest mo- tive, of whatever kind it may be. We are aware, that this has often been alledged; and not unfreauently by men,whose suggestions are entitled to the most respectful considera- tion. But the proposition, in order to have any weight as an argument, must be shown to be of universal application. If there were only one kind or class of motives, there would undoubtedly be some plausibility in the view proposed. Perhaps it would be a conclusive one. Motives of the same kind can be directly compared to- gether; and as our consciousness assures us of a difference in the strength of such motives even in themselves consider- ed, there is a propriety in speaking of them as more or less strong. But, as we have already had occasion to remark in speaking on this very subject, motives, which differ in kind, can be compared not in themselves, but only in their effects. FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 253 In respect to all such, therefore, the proposition, that the will is governed hy the strongest motive, is an identical one. That is to say, the proposition can mean nothing more than simply, that the will is governed hy the motive, hy which it is governed. If we were to admit this, we should admit only an obvious truism, which could have no weight, either one way or the other, in resolving the matter under consideration. — (See the remarks on this subject in Chapter ninth of Part Second.) CHAPTER FOURTH. FREEDOM OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN MAN'S MORAL NATURE. §. 164. Remarks on the nature or mode of the argument. There are various other considerations, connected with the general subject of the freedom of the will, all of which have weight, although they may not be closely connected with each other. Hence the argument on the subject of the freedom of the will, as well as on that of its subjection to laws, has a sort of miscellaneous appearance, which may be less pleasing, than it would otherwise be, to those, who have been accustomed to the invariable consecution of parts, and the strictness of mathematical demonstration. But it will be perceived, that the nature of the subject renders this in some degree unavoidable ; and it is to be hoped, that suitable allowance will be made for it, If the question be- fore us were, whether the Romans occupied the island of Great Britain at some period previous to the Saxon conquest, we probably should not rest the conclusion on one circum- stance or fact alone ; but employ all, which might have a bearing on the inquiry, however diverse they might be from each other in themselves. We should refer to the testimony FREEDOM OF THE WILL- 255 of the Roman historians, to the remains of encampments and roads indicating a Roman origin, to the coins and urns which have been discovered ; and although each of these circumstances would be different from and independent of the others, they would all obviously bear upon the same conclusion ; and even if they were separately weak and somewhat unsatisfactory, might yet in their combination furnish an argument of irresistible strength. It is so with the subject now before us, as also and particularly so with that, which occupied our attention in the Second Part of this work. — We shall, therefore, go on to mention one view of the subject after another, in the expectation, that each distinct part of the argument will be kept in mind ; and that the influence of each will be so united with that of others as to render the conclusion not only satisfactory but unanswerable. §. 165. Of the elements of man's moral nature. Although the argument, taken as a whole, is emphatical- ly a miscellaneous one, yet the remarks of this chapter will be found to be connected together, in this respect at least, that they all have a relation to one topic, viz, man's moral nature. That man has a moral nature we cannot for a mo- ment suppose to be a matter of doubt.' Without such a nature he could not be the subject of a moral government ; and, although he might possess all knowledge, he would ne- cessarily be without virtue and vice ; and neither praise nor blame, neither rewards nor punishment could ever attach to his conduct. There is nothing inconceivable or inconsistent in the suppposition of a being so constituted as to be possessed of intellect, propensities, passions, and will, and yet to be inca- pable by his very constitution of framing those notions and of exercising those feelings, which are implied in a moral nature. But such is not the constitution of man. While he 256 FREEDOM OF THE WILL IMPLIED is endowed with intellect and appetites and propensities and passions and will, God has seen fit to elevate and ennoble him, by constituting him a moral and religious being. The elements of his moral nature, (in 'accordance with that stri- king wisdom ever manifested in God's works, which accom- plishes great results by simple means,) are few in number, and are to be found chiefly in his ability to frame the ab- stract notions of right and wrong, in the feelings of moral approval and disapproval, in those states of the mind which are known as feelings of remorse, and in feelings of moral obligation. All these states of mind, which taken together constitute man a moral being, and without which he could not sustain or possess that character, are based upon and imply the fact, as will more fully appear in the separate examination of them, of the freedom of the will. §. 166. Evidence of freedom of the will from feelings of ap- proval and disapproval. In stating the argument,which may be deduced on this sub- ject from our moral nature, we proceed to remark, in the first place, that the freedom of the will is implied in and is shown by the moral feelings of approval and disapproval. We are so constituted, that, whenever we behold a person perform- ing a virtuous action, demeaning himself with entire kind- ness, good faith, and justice, we at once feel a sentiment of approval. On the other hand if we see a person pursuing a different course, one which is obviously characterized by falsehood, ingratitude, and injustice, we at once feel an emotion of disapproval. But if it should be suddenly dis- closed to us, that the agent, whom we thus according to the circumstances of the case either approve or condemn, was not in the possession of freedom of will, it is undeniable, th at all such approval or disapproval would at once cease. We should no more think of approving an action, however IN MAN'S MORAL NATURE 357 beneficial it might be, which was known to be performed without freedom of will, than of pronouncing a man worthy of moral approbation for a purely natural gift, such as sym- metry of form, a musical voice, or striking outlines of the countenance. More properly, we should think nothing about it. To approve under such circumstances would, by the very constitution of our nature, be an impossibility. The idea of liberty, therefore, is, in this respect and so far as these feelings are concerned, fundamental to our moral na- ture. §. 167. Proof of freedom from feelings of remorse. There is another class of mental states, constituting a part of man's moral nature, to which similar remarks will apply ; we refer to feelings of remorse. These feelings are entirely distinct from those of approval and disapproval. We are capable of approving or disapproving, when our at- tention is directed solely to the conduct of others; but we never feel remorse for what others do, and it is impossible that we should. Feelings of remorse have relation to our- selves alone. We experience them when bur own conduct, and not that of others, is the subject of moral disapproval. They are painful feelings, but the suffering is of a peculiar kind, altogether different from mere sadness or grief;, and hence they may be regarded as having a character of their own, and as separate in their nature from all other states of the mind. The existence of these states of mind implies, on the part of the person who is the subject of them, a convic- tion of the freedom of the will. It can hardly be thought necessary to adduce facts and arguments in support of what has been said. If a person feels an internal condemnation or remorse for what he has done, it certainly must be on the ground, that he was at lib- 33 258 FREEDOM OF THE WILL IMPLIED erty to will and to do otherwise. It cannot be doubted, that this position is fully and universally admitted. — There may he fears and sorrows undoubtedly; there may be re- grets and sufferings, in cases which are not dependent on any determinations of our own; but there cannot possibly be remorse, which implies a sense of guilt as well as the experience of sorrow, without a conviction, deep as the ba- sis of the mind itself, that in doing the criminal action we willed and acted freely, and not by compulsion. If there- fore feelings of remorse exist, as they not unfrequently do, they furnish a strong proof in support of the liberty of the will. §. 1G8. Without the possession of liberty of will man could never have framed the abstract notions of right and wrong. Among other things having a relation to man's situation and character as a moral being, it is to be noticed that he is so constituted as to be able to form the abstract notions of right and wrong, or of virtue and vice, which are only oth- er and synonymous expressions for right and wrong. These conceptions, (which are thoughts and not emotions, the cre- ations of the Intellect, and not the exercises of the Sensibil- ities or heart,) are truly great and ennobling; audit may perhaps be said of them, more than of any other part of our moral nature, that they are the basis of moral reasoning, and the foundation of moral anticipation and hope. They disclose to the mind,like light coming from heaven and shin- ing vividly into its depths, the great fact, that there is a real, permanent, and immutable distinction between good and evil. Strike out and annihilate these primary concep- tions, and you at the same moment obscure and destroy the glory of man's mental nature, and blot out, at least as far as all human perception is concerned, the brightest feature in the character of all other mental existences. IN MAN'S MORAL NATURE. 259 But these leading ideas, so fundamental to every thing of a moral and religious nature, could never have been formed, without a conviction of the liberty of the will. The occa- sions undoubtedly, on which they are suggested and exist in the mind, are instances of voluntary conduct, either our own or that of others, where we either approve or disap- prove. Without such occasions offered to our notice, and without such attendant emotions of moral approval or disap- proval, it may be asserted without any hesitation, that men would never have formed any conceptions in the abstract, of right and wrong, of rectitude and the opposite ; and con- sequently could never have beheld, as they now clearly do, as if inscribed by the radiant finger of God, a great line of demarcation, remaining always and immutably the same, "between good and evil, between holiness and sin. But as has already been stated, it is always implied in the feelings of approval and disapproval, that the person, whose conduct is either approved or disapproved, possessed liberty of the will. Without a firm conviction, that such was the case, the emotions could never have existed; and consequently there eould never have occurred, in the history of the human mind, that state of things, which is the basis of the origin of the abstract notions of right and wrong, of rectitude and want of rectitude, of virtue and vice, which are only differ- ent expressions for the same thing. We have, therefore, in this view of the subject a new proof, that the liberty of the will is positively and necessarily involved in the fact of our possessing a moral nature. §. 169. Proof from feelings of moral obligation. There is a distinct class of mental states, entitled in eve- ry point of view to an important place in man's moral con- stitution, which may be termed Obligatory feelings, or feel- ings of moral obligation. Of these states of mind we do 260 FREEDOM OF THE WILL IMPLIED not profess to give a definition. As they are elementary and simple, they are necessarily undefinable. But we can- not doubt, that every one must have more or less frequently experienced them, and that every one knows what their nature is. And this class of feelings also furnishes an argument on the subject before us, We deem the assertion within the bounds of truth and of the common opinion of mankind, when we say that no man ever does, or ever can experience in himself the feeling of moral obligation to do a thing, so long as he feels himself to be actually destitute of liberty to do it. And this is equally true, whether the destitution of liberty relates to the outward and bodily action or to the action of the will. Does a man feel himself morally ac- countable for the performance of an action, to which he is driven by some bodily compulsion? Or does he feel himself accountable for a failure to perform an action, from the per- formance of which he is kept by actual bodily restraint ? And if the mind is constrained and driven by a compression and violence, corresponding, as far as the different nature of the two things will permit, to such compulsion of the body, can there be anymore conviction of accountability, or of any form of moral obligation in the one case than in the other ? But if the existence of feelings of obligation be undeniable, and if the existence of such feelings be incompatible with the absence of freedom, and if both these truths are based on the consciousness and confirmed by the universal acknowl- edgements of mankind, then it follows of course, that men do in fact feel and recognize, and that they fully and assur- edly know their freedom. §. 170. Evidence from men's views of crimes and 'punishments. Again, the freedom of the will is clearly implied in the views, which we find to be generally adopted by men in re- spect, to crimes and punishments. This view of our sub- IN MAN'S MORAL NATURE. 261 ject is closely connected with that, which has just heen giv- en; and essentially the same illustrations, as were introdu- ced in the last section, will apply here. If a man is laid under bodily constraint, and in that situ- ation is the agent or rather instrument in the performance of an action involving great loss and suffering to others, such action is never considered a crime and deserving of punish- ment, in whatever light it might be regarded under other circumstances. This is undeniable. And we always take the same view, when the mind is actually laid under con- straint as when the body is; with this difference merely, that constraint of the body is a matter easily ascertainable, while that of the mind can be learnt only with a greater or less degree of probability. The power of the will is a gift or trust, as much so as the power of perception, and is a definite thing; in some persons it is greater, in others less; but in all cases it has its limits. Whenever, therefore, there is an utter disproportion between the strength of the motive and the power of the will, (so much so perhaps as to render it essentially the same as if the will were wholly destitute of power,) the will is universally understood to be at such times under a greater or less degree of constraint. And if under such circumstances a crime be charged upon a person, we graduate the degree of it, (looking upon it as higher in some cases and lower in others,) in precise conformity with the degree of constraint, so far as we can judge what it is. " There are cases, says Dr. Reid, in which a man's vol- untary actions are thought to be very little, if at all in his power, on account of the violence of the motive that impels him. The magnanimity of a hero or a martyr is not expec- ted in every man and on all occasions. — If a man, trusted by the government with a secret, which it is high treason to disclose, be prevailed upon by a bribe, we have no mercy for him, and hardly allow the greatest bribe to be any alle- 262 FREEDOM OF THE WILL IMPLIED viation of his crime. Baton the other hand if the secret be extorted by the rack or the dread of present death, we pity him more than we blame him, and would think it severe and unequitable to condemn him as a traitor." And he after- wards gives the reason of these different judgments, viz, that, while the mere love of money leaves to a man the en- tire power over himself, the torment of the rack, or the dread of present death, are so violent motives, that men, who have not uncommon strength of mind, are not masters of them- selves in such a situation, and therefore what they do is not imputed to them as a crime at all , or is thought less criminal than it would otherwise be. §. 171. Prevalent opinions oj mankind on this subject. The argument under this general head, so far as it has now been gone into, has been stated in particulars; and it is probably more satisfactory, when stated in this way, than in any other. But something may be said on the subject of the freedom of the will as connected with our moral nature, when it is considered, as it were, in the mass. The body of mankind undoubtedly look upon this subject in its great outlines and as a whole, without attempting to penetrate and to seize its elements. And without unduly yielding to popular prejudices or abating from the dignity of philoso- phy, we may safely assert, that this is an inquiry, on which an appeal may with propriety be made to the common expe- rience, and the common convictions and expressions of the great body of men. And we no sooner make the appeal than we find, that the testimony from that source is unani- mous and unequivocal. There are some truths, which are so deeply based in the human constitution, that all men of all classes receive them, and act upon them. They are planted deeply and immuta- bly in the soul, and no reasoning, however plausible, can IN MAN'S MORAL NATURE. 263 shake them. And if we are not mistaken, the doctrine of the freedom of the will, as a condition of even the possibili- ty of a moral nature, is one of these first truths. It seems to be regarded by all persons without any exception, as a dictate of common sense and as a first principle of our na- ture, that men are morally accountable and are the subjects of a moral responsibility in any respect whatever, only so far as they possess freedom, both of the outward action and of the will. They hold to this position as an elementa- ry truth, and would no sooner think of letting it go, than of abandoning the conviction of their personal existence and identity. They do not profess to go into particulars, but they assert it in the mass, that man is a moral being only so far as he is free. And such an unanimous and decided tes- timony, bearing as it obviously does the seal and superscrip- tion of nature herself, is entitled to serious consideration. In view of the various suggestions of this chapter, (and further illustrations to the same effect might be given if time would allow,) we are abundantly authorized in the as- sertion, that the liberty of the will is implied, and fully and clearly implied in the fact of man's possessing a moral na- ture; and that if he possesses such a nature, he possesses freedom. CHAPTER FIFTH, OTHER PROOFS OF FREEDOM OF THE WILL. §. 172. Evidence of the freedom of the will from languages. In bringing forward the various considerations,which, how- ever disconnected with each other in themselves, have yet a bearing on the subject before us, we proceed to remark fur- ther,that the existence of the freedom of the will may be ar- gued,with some degree of force, from the structure of all lan- guages. — We have already had occasion to make the remark, that every language is, in some important sense of the terms, a mirror of the mind ; and that something may be learnt of the tendencies of the mind, not only from the form or struc- ture of languages in general, but even from the import of particidar terms. Now it is undeniable, that the terms liberty and freedom and other terms of equivalent import are found in all languages ; and that they are not only found in application to nations, but to individuals ; and not only in application to outward actions, but to the acts of the will. But if men are in fact and by their very constitution desti- tute of liberty of the will, it seems impossible to give any explanation of this state of things. So that it is a natural FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 265 and irresistible inference, if we can infer the convictions and belief of men at all from # the forms of speech, that they uni- versally have a conviction and belief of their liberty in that respect. And we can give no explanation of the existence of such conviction or belief, except on the ground of the actual existence of that freedom, to which the belief relates. • §.173. Evidence from the occasional suspension of the wilVs acts. , Another circumstance, which may be adduced as an in- dication and evidence of the freedom of the Will, is the fact of the occasional suspension or delay of its operations, when its action is solicited by the pressure of motives, which hap- pen to be various and conflicting in their kind, though all of them are alike powerful and urgent. Without attempting to explain, how this suspension takes place, it is enough for our present purpose simply to state the fact, as it constantly presents itself to observation and notice, viz, that at times, when motives are thronging around the will in various direc- tions, and are each and all of them clamorous for an action of the will favorable to themselves, the will nevertheless does not act. It is true some persons will say, and probably with correctness, that this negation or suspension of action is it- self to be regarded as a species of resolve or voluntary deter- mination ; that while the will reserves its.elf, so to speak, for a movement based upon more mature enquiry, this very re- servation of its action is itself an action. Without stopping to comment on this suggestion, it will be # perceived, that the essential idea still holds good and indisputable, viz, that the will not unfrequently, for some reason or other whatever it may be, witholds its decision in respect to claims that are urged by motives ^of no small efficacy. And this suspension of the wilPs action in respect to such claims, on whatever grounds it may happen and whatever other gourse may be 34 2'66 OTHER PROOFS OF taken by the will, is undoubtedly to be regarded, in a can- did view of the subject, as a characteristic and a proof of its ■ freedom. §. 174. Evidence of the freedom oj the will, from the control which every man has over his own motives of action. .There are various other considerations, which are enti- tled to more or less weight. — We have already seen, in the Second Part of this Work, that the will is subject to laws; and have further seen, that it never acts, and is not capable of acting, except in connection with antecedent motives. But it is a striking fact, and one worthy, of special notice in con- nection with the will's freedom, that we ourselves have no inconsiderable degree of control over these motives. • If the reader has in memory the remarks made in the First Part of this Work on the connection among all the great depart- ments of the mind, particular] y on the relation of the Intel- lect to the will and of the Sensibilities to the will, he will be prepared to understand and receive the truth of this remark. Those*motives, which come in immediate con- tact with the will and are most closely connected with its action, are deposited, not in the Understanding, but in the Sensibilities; are not mere perceptions of the in- tellect, but are impregnated with an infusion of desire and sentiment. Still they undoubtedly have, a close connection with the antecedent acts of the intellect. There must be something previously perceived, before there can be either desire or emotion. It is impossible, in the nature of things, • that we should have the feeling of desire or the feeling of obligation, without an antecedent act of the intellect or un- derstanding, making known and identifying to us the. partic- ular object of desire, and the particular object, to which the feeling of mor^l obligation relates. Hence as the sensibili- ties act upon the will, and the understanding acts upon the • FREEDOM OF THE WILL 267 sensibilities, we may in some degree control the will by en- lightening the understanding. But it is the will, which, more than any thing else, is the counterpart, or the synonym per- haps, of the personal pronoun, of the I and We, which. are so conspicuously introduced as agents; and it is the will, therefore, which, by adopting this. process controls itself. The voluntary power, operating through the intellect, may contract or expand the horizon of motives, by which it is surrounded, and in this way regulate by anticipation the pos- sibilities and probabilities, if not the absolute certainty, of its own ulterior action. We are presented, therefore, in this view of the subject with an instance of self-regulation obviously carried on under the control and within the limits oflaw, which is not only liberty in essence, but liberty in its most interesting and perfect form. § . 175. The freedom of the will further shown from the attempts of men to influence, the conduct of their fellow-men. The freedom of the will seems to be evinced and proved furthermore, from the. manner, in which we address our fel- low men, when we wish them to pursue a certain course of conduct. When we request or 1 require them to do a certain thing,we certainly act on the supposition that they have both the power and the liberty to do it. It would evidently be a very fruitless thing to attempt by means of persuasion and argument to move them in a certain direction, if they were ■the subjects of an inflexible destiny, and destitute of the power and liberty of acting in accordance with what is proposed. The view, which men obviously take of their fellow-men is, that they are rational beings; that the considerations addres- sed to them will have their due weight ; and that their ac- ting or not acting in conformity with those "considerations is a matter wholly within their own power, and in respect to which they are entirely and completely free. 268 OTHER PROOFS OF §, 176. Further evidence from the observation of men's conduct. Among other sources of evidence in support of the prop- osition of the will's freedom, we may confidently appeal to the observation of what is constantly taking place among men, as we behold them engaged in the pursuits and duties of life'. Even a slight notice of their conduct fully justifies the assertion, that men act universally, as if they felt and knew themselves to be free. In making this statement how- ever, we may properly claim to be understood in the natu- ral import of the terms. We speak of men in general, as we see them in the discharge of the common duties of life and under the influence of ordinary motives; and not of those, whose liberty of outward action is restrained by chains and dungeons; nor of those, whose inward liberty has been perplexed and compromised by inordinate indulgences, which inevitably tend to bring the mjnd more or less within .the verge of insanity. Within the limitation implied in this re- mark, a very slight observation discovers to us, that meu are constantly in action; that the causes of- action exist in them- selves: and that in all the numberless varieties of their con- It duct they act freely. One is in pursuit of honor, another of pleasure, another of wealth ; one acts from motives of in- terest, and another from sentiments of duty; one has solely in view the promotion of his own personal welfare, another .that of mankind; but in each and all of these cases and in all others, there is no declaration and no evidence of com- pulsion. And we feel the force of this statement the more, when we further notice, that men are frequently changing those pursuits to which their attention was directed in the first instance ; transferring themselves from one neighbor- hood to another, from one sphere of life to another, and from one climate to another ; and adapting their feelings FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 269 and conduct to situations never before experienced. Every- where there is life, activity, movement, energy; plans nev- er before started; new methods of executing them; the mo- tives and conduct of one individual conflicting with those of another, and varying constantly to meet conflicting exigen- cies. And does all this bear the impress of fatality? Are we not to receive these facts as decisive indications of lib- erty, even if it be true that we are unable to define what liberty is? Can we even conceive of a freedom, which shall result in opening a wider sphere, or in securing a greater variety of action? §. 177. Argued further from the view taken in the Scriptures. We conclude this enumeration of circumstances, which tend to illustrate and prove the existence of liberty of the will, with the single fact further, which no one can regard otherwise than as entitled to our serious consideration, that the Scriptures clearly recognize man as possessing' such lib- erty. If the Scriptures every where assert the omniscience and superintendence of God, and announce his superinten- dence as extending to the minutest things and events both material and immaterial, as seems to be abundantly evident and to be universally admitted; still it must be confessed at the same time, that they are no less explicit in the announce- ment, both expressly and by implication, that man has pow- er, freedom, and accountability. All those passages, which call upon men to consider of their ways, obviously imply, that there is no obstruction in the way of their considering; and that they are free either to do or . not to do it. All those passages, which exhort and require men to repent of their deeds, obviously imply that they are in the possession of liberty, and that there is no obstacle in the way of their repentance, which is inconsistent with liberty. All those passages, which enjoin upon men the performance of moral 270 OTHER PROOFS OF and religious duties, go upon the supposition, that obedience and disobedience are alike within the sphere of their choice; according, as it is said in Job, " if they obey they shall spend their days in prosperity; if they obey not, they shall perish by the sword." Nothing could be more unmeaning and insincere, than a multitude of passages, which might be brought forward, if it were true that man is not in the possession of liberty of will; if it were true that all his vo- litions are put forth under the pressure of an irresistible compulsion ; that he is truly and unavoidably in all his ac- tions under a' mental constraint. " Turn ye, turn ye, from your evil ways ; for why will ye die, house of Israel ;" is the beautiful and affecting language, which God utters to his ancient covenant people and to all his impenitent chil- dren of all nations. But how ungenerous and taunting and hypocritical it must appear; how inconsistent with the spot- less holiness of God's character ;• how like giving tears. for drink and ashes for bread ; if we are to suppose, that men labour under a natural inability of turning, and that they are not truly possessed of freedom of the will! §. 178. Practical importance of the doctrine of liberty. . If we have not stated the argument on the side of free- dom so clearly and forcibly, and so much at length, as might have been done, the deficiency occasions the less solicitude, when we consider, that in all ages of the world the doctrine in question, with few exceptions, has been fully and univer- sally admitted. Still there have been found some persons from time to time, who have maintained and have believed the opposite; and have strenuously endeavored to give a currency to their opinions. And hence, in closing these re- marks on the subject of the freedom of the will, it seems a suitable opportunity to say something on its practical im- portance. If we are destitute of freedom, we certainly can- FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 211 not feel moral jaccountability ; and whatever course we may take in life, even if it be entirely injurious and sinful, we shall yet feel, that we are not properly the subjects of blame. Before, therefore, we adopt the notion of man's destitution of liberty, (if indeed it be possible after a due consideration of what has been said on the subject,) we should carefully and seriously consider the consequences. For the purpose of showing, that these intimations are not based upon unfounded or exaggerated fears, and in or- der more clearly to illustrate the pernicious consequences, to which erroneous notions on this subject are apt to lead, we take the liberty to introduce here an extract, from the .writings of the celebrated M. Diderot. — " Examine it nar- rowly, says M. Diderot, and you will see, that the word liberty is a word devoid of meaning ; that there are not, and that there cannot be free beings ; that we are only what ac- cords with the general order, with our organization, our ed- ucation, and the chain of events. These dispose of us invin- cibly. We can no more conceive of a being acting without a motive than we can of one of the arms of a balance acting without a' weight. The motive is always exterior and for- eign, fastened upon us by some cause distinct from ourselves. What deceives us is the prodigious variety of our actions, joined to the habit which we catch at our birth, of confoun- ding the voluntary and the free. We have been so often Braised and blamed, and have so often praised and blamed others, that we contract an inveterate prejudice of believing that we, and they toill and act freely. But if there is no liberty, there is no action that merits either praise or blame; neither vice nor virtue ; nothing that ought either to be re- warded or punished. What then is the distinction among men? The doing of good and the doing of ill! The doer of ill is one who must be destroyed or punished. The doer of good is lucky, not virtuous. But though neither the doer of 372 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. good or of ill be free, man is nevertheless a being to be mod- ified ; it is for this reason the doer of ill should be destroy- ed upon the scaffold. From thence the good effects of educa- tion, of pleasure, of grief, of grandeur, of poverty, &c; from thence a philosophy full of pity, strongly attached to the good, nor more angry with the wicked, than the whirl- wind which fills one's eyes with dust." It seems to be unnecessary to spend time in commenting on this passage, which does as little credit to the heart as the head of its author, and which is as much at variance with sound philosophy, as it is with good morals and the existence of society. Whereever such pernicious principles have gain- ed a footing, it is not surprising, that the intellect should be. obscured ; that the sensibilities should be blunted ; that- the ear should be closed to the names of truth and honour ;that the eye should be sealed to the effulgence of moral beauty ; that crimes, dreadfully revolting to human nature, should be multiplied ; that even whole kingdoms should be convulsed, and clothed in mourning and blood. Let us, then, take that true position, which is clearly pointed out both by reason and the Scriptures, of humble de- pendence on God on the one hand, and of solemn respon- sibility for our conduct on the other. It is impossible for us to form too high notions of the power, wisdom, and super- intendence of the Deity ; nothing is more favourable to virtue than the conviction of his constant presence and over- sight ; but at the same time we ought ever to remember, that he has seen fit to impart to us a moral nature, embracing the elements both of power and liberty ; and whether we account this gift as ten talents' or five or only one, he holds us responsible for its use, and will punish the slothful ser- vant, who hides it in the earth. " For ivlwsoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall. have more abundance ; but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken aivay even that he hath." CHAPTER SIXTH. CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM, §. 179, Objected that the views maintained are contradictory. We are now so far advanced in our inquiries as to find ourselves in a position, where we are met by the objection, expressed with some variety of phraseology but in all cases to this effect, that there is an utter inconsistency and contra- diction between the two doctrines of the freedom of the will and the subjection of the will to laws. If the will is free, it is said, it cannot be subject to laws ; and if it is sub- ject to laws, it cannot be free; and at any rate there is some- thing utterly incomprehensible in this state of things. — The consideration of this objection will occupy our attention in this Chapter ; and at the same time will incidentally furnish an opportunity for some remarks, which may not be unim- portant in their practical applications. §. 180. Answered that they result necessarily from the evidence. In remarking upon the objection, which has just been stated, and which undoubtedly exists in the minds of some 35 274 CONSISTENCY OF candid inquirers, we wish it to be noticed, in the first place, that each of these two propositions, viz, that the will is sub- ject to laws, and that the will is free, rests upon its appropri- ate evidence. We take it for granted, that they are propo- sitions, which have a meaning and which can be understood; and that as such they admit of the application of reasoning, and are susceptible either of affirmation or denial. In reas- oning upon them, they have been made separate sub- jects of contemplation. The arguments, by which they are respectively supported , are entirely distinct ; and are at the same time so appropriate to the nature of the subject to be proved, and, considered as a whole, bear upon it with sa much force, that it is difficult to conceive, how a well-balanc- ed mind, which is open to the reception of truth, can resist the conclusions, to which they lead. — And in making this'as- sertion, we do not wish to be understood as offering a re- mark, which is to be taken with some modification and dim- inution of its obvious import. The remark is based upon thexonstitution of the mind itself; particularly so far as the nature and laws of belief are concerned in and make a part of that constitution. Every one knows, that our belief is not a matter, which is under our control, in such a sense that we can believe or not believe, as we happen to choose. The mind is so constituted, that Ave exercise belief, not in accor- dance with a mere and direct act of volition, but in accord- ance with the nature and amount of the evidence, which happens to be before the mind at the precise moment of be- lief. And with this view of things in memory, we feel fully authorized in saying, that the evidence, which has been brought forward in support of the proposition of the will's subjection to laws, is such as in ordinary cases to remove all doubt. We look upon the proposition as proved ; not merely as probable, but as certain. It is not a matter, the LAW AND FREEDOM. 275 reception and credence of which is left to our own choice ; but, on the contrary, such is the constitution of the human mfnd, we cannot possibly do otherwise than believe. — And these statements will apply equally well to both propositions. The proposition of the will's freedom is attended with such an amount of evidence, appropriate to the point to be es- tablished*, as to be equally beyond doubt, equally certain. We receive both with a full and unwavering conviction; and such are the nature and fundamental principles of belief, that we are unable to withhold such conviction. If then our belief involves what appears to us at present an inconsistency or even a contradiction, (we do not say, what we know to be a contradiction but what appears to be such,) it is a matter which we cannot help, and in respect to which, although we might wish it to be otherwise, we should give ourselves no unnecessary trouble. We are in the same situation, (certainly not a less favorable one,) as the sincere inquirer in other things. Does the natural philosopher, in pursuing the investigation of facts, stop to inquire what doc- trines formerly received it will either favor or conflict with, what system it will build up or put down, what new and in- explicable mysteries it will involve ? Is he not obliged to adhere to the testimony, that is fairly presented to him, wherever it may go; even if it should lead into a world not of pure light, but of mingled darkness and light? And in like manner, in respect to the question before us, let us go firmly and frankly wherever the evidence conducts ; even if it should be found to lead us, as no doubt it will, to a great mystery, where the human mind stops and starts back, appal- led on the one hand by its own feebleness, and on the other overwhelmed by the greatness of the divine wisdom. §. 181. Denial of the alledged contradiction. In answer, therefore, to the objection which has been re- 276 CONSISTENCY OF ferred to, we say in the first place, that we are bound by the evidence, whatever difficulties may attend the relative adjustment of the results. If the objection were to some in- tent a valid and admissible one, (that is to say, if there were truly an appearance, a degree of probability, of incon- sistency arid contradiction,) this answer would be sufficient. But it is proper to say further,that there is no satisfactory evidence, either in a higher or lower degree, of the inconsis- tency and contradiction, Which has been alledged to exist. It has undoubtedly sometimes happened, either by design or from mere Carelessness, that men have so framed their speech, have so selected and constructed their formulary of words, as to make a contradiction, when there is none in the nature of things, and none in fact. If we define freedom to be an exemption from law, then no doubt the proposition of the will's subjection to law implies the exclusion of liberty. But, although bodily freedom can be defined, mental free- dom, as we have already had occasion to remark, is not sus- ceptible of definition; it is something indeed, which is a mat- ter of experience and is known by consciousness, but like the simple and elementary ideas of identity, duration, space, power, Unity, and the like, it cannot be described by words. And if it were otherwise, the definition of liberty above mentioned would be wholly inadmissible; for exemption from law is so far from constituting liberty, that it might be shown upon grounds entirely satisfactory, that there can be iio liberty, not even a possibility of it, where law has no place. So that we feel fully authorized in saying, although we are under the necessity of leaving the inquiry with these few words, that there is no evidence of contradiction in the case. §. 182. Admission of inexplicableneSs or mystery. But if it be merely said, that there is something inexpli- LAW AND FREEDOM. 277 •cable or incomprehensible, something mysterious in the rela- tion of the two propositions, which have been considered, it is not easy to deny, that there is truth in the remark. We cannot imagine, that there is any undue humiliation, any thing discreditable in the acknowledgement, that such is the fact. Nothing is more certain than that there are many things, into the full measure of whose length and breadth and height and depth, the human mind, in the present state of existence and under the present economy of things, has never been able to penetrate. And it is undoubt- edly the mark of true wisdom, frankly to acknowledge our ignorance in those cases where it must infallibly exist, and not to indulge either in pretensions which are unfounded, or in complaints which are useless. Such advice indeed may not be entirely acceptable to men of a captious temper or of an intellect imperfectly dis- ciplined; but it is fully warranted by correct views of our own powers, and of the relations we sustain to other beings. "The most enlightened of men, says Robert Hall, have al- ways been the first to perceive and acknowledge the remain- ing obscurity which hung around them; just as, in the night, the further a light extends, the wider the surrounding sphere of darkness appears. Hence it has always been ob- served, that the most profound inquirers into nature have been the most modest and humble." These remarks of a writer, so distinguished, not only for refinement of taste and fervour of piety, but for philosophical acuteness, naturally remind us of some sayings of Mr. Locke, which indicate at the same time his characteristic modesty and candour, and his vie\Vs of the very difficulty which we are now examin- ing. " I own f/eely to you the weakness of my understan- ding, that, though it be unquestionable that there is omnip- otence and omniscience in God our Maker, and though I cannot have a clearer perception of any thing than that I am 278 CONSISTENCY OF free, yet I cannot make, [meaning undoubtedly that he could, not explain and clear up in all respects how it should be so,] freedom in man consistent with omnipotence and omni- science in God, though 1 am as fully persuaded of both as of any truth Imost firmly assent to; and therefore I have long since given off the consideration of that question,resolving all into tluVshort conclusion, thafif it be possible for God to make a free agent, then man is free,though I see not the way of it," <§. 183. Of the limited powers of the human mind. In this connection, and as tending to support the views of this Chapter, we think it proper to make a few general suggestions in respect to the limited powers of the human mind. We may regard it as a well established principle, that the mind of man, although it may be indefinitely pro- gressive in some directions, is subject to the restriction of impassible barriers in others. How many objects of knowl- edge, in the sphere of material as well as mental nature, have altogether set at nought the inquiries of men! Be- yond the boundaries, whatever they may be, which God has assigned as the barriers of our faculties, is the land of dark- ness, the region of hieroglyphics, the habitation of myste- ries. We use these expressions not in lightness of spirit,but merely to convey the fact as it exists, and with profound ven- eration; for if those dark and mysterious places are not occu- pied by the human mind, it is certain that they are occupied and filled by another mind infinitely greater. The existence of mysteries, beyond its allotted sphere of action and inqui- ry, is necessarily an incident to every created mind; for the mere fact of being created necessarily implies inferiority ; and that too in perception as Avell as in power In one sense indeed, it may be admitted, that man is great, and the hon- ored possessor of great and wonderful faculties. Certainly this is the ease, when we compare him with the lower ani- LAW AND FREEDOM. 279 mals, that have no moral nature, and seem destined soon to perish. But let' him never forget, that under other circum- stances the view presented is entirely the reverse, and that he is as blind in intellect as he is poor in power, in compari- son with God. He", who suitably realizes the relation which he sustains to the all-wise Jehovah, will not presume to compare his feeble intellect with the infinite Godhead; his understanding of yesterday just kindling into light and life, with the everlasting Sun of knowledge, ever effulgent and inexhaustible. Let this modesty of true, wisdom, so suitable on every subject, have its due place in the matter under examination . If we cannot see how the subjection of the will to law is consistent with its freedom, while irres- istible evidence compels us to believe both the liberty and the law, let us arraign our incapacity rather than the proof before us. §. 184. We find things which cannot be explained every where. If there were no other mysteries in the universe but the one in question, it might be thought less reasonable to sub- mit quietly to our inability to explain it. But they are found all around us ; they exist every where ; and every where baffle our curiosity. We generally suppose it to be other- wise, because it may happen that we are unable to point them out; but our inability to do this is owing to the fact of our not having given attention to the subject. We do indeed sometimes direct our attention to the mysteries, which are placed at a distance from us ; but it is seldom that we look at those, which are near at hand. In the time of the Apostle Paul, the opposers of Christianity objected particularly to the doctrine of the resurrection from the dead, on account of its being so mysterious, inexplicable, and wonderful ; but they did not consider, till the Apostle reminded them of the fact, that the conversion of the seed sown in the ground into 280 CONSISTENCY OF the stalk or plant is no less wonderful, no less mysterious. Perhaps we might be justified in going so far as to say, there is nothing, however familiar it may be, which is not in some of its aspects replete with mystery. Can we explain how the seul and bt>dy exist and act to- gether ? Can we understand how God, who is a spirit, can fill all places with his presence ? Can we comprehend, how under any circumstances mind, which is so entirely distinct, can operate upon matter and put it in motion, as is the fact in our ordinary acts of volition ? Can we explain the opera- tions of matter itself, even the growth of a blade of grass ? Do not the most familiar appearances of nature, though easily explainable in some things, present in others insuperable dif- ficulties ? And why then should we account it particularly unbooked for and strange, that, in the two distinct doctrines of the will's freedom and the will's subjection to law, we should find something, Avhich withstands our penetration and baffles our sagacity ? §. 185. Illustrated from the influence of one man over another. We would furthermore propose to- such as are disposed to insist upon the difficulty under consideration, that the same difficulty, or at least one closely analogous, is constantly occurring in common life. We refer to the fact, which is too obvious to admit of any denial, that one man is capable of controlling, and does in fact control, the will of another. By his wealth, or personal address, or persuasive language, or powers of reasoning he bends his neighbour to his own purposes. This is seen particularly in the case of the orator, who addresses the public assembly ; and who sometimes not only sways the individuals composing it to his own pur- poses, but does it against the views and the determinations, which they had previously formed. Now here is a case,where, according to the common understanding of it, the will of one LAW AND FREEDOM. 2gJ man or of many men is under the control of another ; and yet it is not the common understanding or the common feel- ing, that the will of the former is not free. Here is a case, in which law and liberty are, by our own admission, united together; subjection and freedom are found in a state of com- bination. And why should we say, that what is possi- ble with men is impossible with God? §. 186. The opposite supposition attended with equal difficulty. But there is another consideration, which is worthy of the attention of the objector. — Before we arraign the views, which have been given, it seems proper to look at the results of the opposite scheme. If we exonerate the action of the will from the influence of all law, and leave it to the irregu- lar control of what may be variously termed accident, indif- erency,or contingency, we do not thereby secure its freedom. Can that mind be free,which knows not at one moment, nor can even conjecture, what may be its position, its acts, or its destiny at the next moment ? It is very much in the position of that people, who are under the direction of an irresponsi- ble despotism, compared with which, a despotism,which is in any degree subject to law, is quite tolerable. A will without law is necessarily subjected to the highest despotism. At one moment the volition may be in one direction; the next in a direction altogether opposite, without the ability to secure any fixed result. And it seems to be impossible in the na- ture of things, that man should be conscious, (and its exis- tence and nature are learnt from consciousness alone,) of freedom under such circumstances. It is wholly inconceiva- ble. So that, let the question be argued as it may, it will always be found in the human mind, as in civil government^ that law is the basis of liberty. 36 282 CONSISTENCY OF §. 187. Both views are to be fully received. In respect, then, to the two distinct doctrines of the will's freedom and its subjection to law, there remains nothing to be done, but the cheerful, ready, and complete reception of both. And with the views which we entertain, the outlines of which have been imperfectly laid before the reader, we are constrained earnestly to insist upon this, as the only cor- rect and satisfactory position. The doctrine, that the will has its laws, is very important, considered in connection with the relation, which men sustain to the Supreme Being. This view places the will in subordination to that higher and more glorious Intelligence, from whom the laws, to which it is amenable, proceed. By adopting this doctrine, we are enabled to understand, how his full and perfect superinten- dence can be maintained. He has himself assured us, that he is intimately acquainted with the outward actions of men, that he knoweth their down-sitting and up-rising; and it is a pleasing and consoling thought, that his care and exact scrutiny may be extended even to the mind itself. Who will not rejoice to be, in soul as well as in body, in the hands of God? Who will feel, that there could be any bet- ter provision for his security, than is thus furnished by the constancy and nearness of the Divine presence? Who will attach any value even to independence itself, when purcha- sed at the measureless expense of an exemption from the su- perintendence of the Deity ? §. 188. The doctrine of the will's freedom equally important with that of its subjection to law. On the other hand the doctrine, that the will is free, in any correct and intelligible sense of that term, is of equal practical importance, since it is obviously essential to man's LAW AND FREEDOM, 283 moral character and accountableness. It is a great truth, which demands to be received with entire and unwavering confidence, that God has made man in his own image; and that in doing this he has seen fit to constitute him with the attributes of freedom and power, as well as with the other attributes, which are requisite to a rational and morally ac- countable nature. In the sphere which is given him, (a lim- ited one undoubtedly, but still actually existing, and always on the increase,) he has not only the ability, but is under the requisition of acting for himself. No plea of inability can ever be admitted as an excuse for negligence, still less for utter inaction. There are claims, therefore, binding upon every man, which he cannot resist. So that the truest and highest philosophy is to be found in that passage of Scrip- ture, " Work out your own salvation with fear and trem- bling, for it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do, of his own good pleasure." It expresses the great truth, and we may add, the great mystery, of the harmonious combination of power and dependence. And it is the same in other things as in religion, that, if we will act for ourselves under the impulse of right feelings, our Maker will take compassion upon us, and act in our behalf ; that, if we will faithfully do our duty, God will be as faithful to help us. Not an hour is spent in effort of any kind, in conformity with the directions of an enlightened conscience, and to use those famous expressions of Milton, As ever in our great Task-master's eye, which is not attended with a divine blessing. The doctrine of a combination of power on the part of men with complete superintendence on the part of God, brings God and men in- to harmony with each other; it fully makes men co-workers with God, and yet under the two fold condition, without which God can neither be a sovereign nor man a moral agent, of responsibility and dependence. CHAPTER SEVENTH. ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL. §. 189. Of. the occasions of mental enthralment. It here seems to come in course to offer some explana- tions on what may be termed the Enthralment or slavery of the will. The explanation of this subject, however difficult it might prove when undertaken separate from and indepen- dent of other views of the will, seems to follow easily, and we may add, almost necessarily, from the views, which have been taken of the freedom of the voluntary power. It has appeared from various remarks made in preceding chapters, that a knowledge of freedom, as actually existing in the mind in general or in any part of the mind, can be possessed only by means of our own personal Consciousness. And it has furthermore appeared, that the circumstances or occasion, on which mental freedom actually exists in the highest de- gree, is to be found in the harmony of the mind's action. Jn other words, freedom exists in fact and exists in the highest degree, when all the mental powers are in the precise place, which their Creator designed for them, and when their oper- ations are conducted without their coming 1 into conflict with ENTHRALMENT OF THE WILL. 285 each other. This is a position of the mental powers, which by the very nature of the mind is incidental and prerequisite to the highest degree of freedom; and every, deviation from it is attended with an interruption and diminution of that perfection of inward liberty, which men would otherwise possess. But if this view in respect to freedom be a correct one, then we are naturally led to suppose and to believe, that the precise opposite will be found to furnish the prerequisite cir- cumstance or the occasion of mental cnthralment. And such is undoubtedly the fact. In other words, whenever we find an internal jarring and conflict, whenever one power over- leaps its bounds and another is jostled from its place, we are conscious of want of freedom in a greater or less degree, or, what is the same thing, of enthralment or slavery. And es- pecially we have a sense of this internal enthralment, when- ever, in consequence of some inordinate appetite or some victorious propensity or passion, that presiding authority, which is lodged in the will, fails to execute what it obvious- ly ought to, and what the conscience pronounces to be right and requires to be done. §. 190. Inability to define enthralment or slavery. . But what is meant by enthralment or slavery ? What verbal definition can we give? — If the question related to the enthralment or slavery of the body, we could probably give a statement, or definition perhaps, that would fully and precisely meet the question. But we have already had oc- casion distinctly to intimate, that the nature of corporeal en- thralment and liberty throws no light, or at most but a fee- ble and doubtful ray, upon that of the mind. We are not more able, by any mere form of words, to explain what is meant by slavery, when that term is applied to the mind, than we are to define mental freedom. In both cases we 286 ENTHRALMENT OE are obliged to refer each one to his own internal experience; but with a full conviction at the same time, that this refer- ence will fully answer the purpose, and cannot leave him in doubt. On the supposition, therefore, that each one as fully un- derstands what is meant by enthralment as by freedom, and that there is no mistake or doubt in either case, we repeat again, that, whenever there is a want of harmony in the mind, there is always a greater or less degree of enthralment. This want of harmony, this internal jarring and conflict, this aggression and resistance of the mental powers will always exist, whenever any appetite, propensity, or passion of what- ever character swells over its allotted limits, and becomes un- duly and inordinately powerful. If we may be allowed to use such expressions, every part of the mind instinctively knows its appropriate place, and w ill not suffer itself to be thrust from it without much remonstrance and resistance. If such resistance is not successful, and if some one inward principle, without regard to the original constitution of the mind and the equitable admonitions of conscience, usurps an undue control over others, we are conscious of what we may properly term mental slavery; at least in respect to that particular part or faculty, which especially suffers under this usurpation. §. 191. The nature of mental enthralment illustrated by a ref- ference to extorted promises. It may possibly be found difficult for the reader at first to apprehend the view here given, (and the same may be said perhaps of various other topics which have come under our notice,) in consequence of such apprehension depending so much on his own internal reflection. That he must look within, and consult what takes place there, is true. And as it is undoubtedly desirable, that such internal reflection SLAVERY. OF THE WILL. 287 should be called into exercise as much as possible, we will endeavour to aid it by some instances. — We will take the case of a man, who is travelling through an extensive forest, and unexpectedly meets with robbers. They suddenly pre- sent their pistols to him, and threaten him with immediate death, unless he promises to deposit a certain sum in a speci- fied place on a certain day. He promises that he will do it. And it is an obvious question here, what is the view, which men of plain common sense and the community generally take of such a transaction ? They evidently do not consid- er it on the same footing with a promise made under other circumstances; they do not regard it as a bona fide promise and morally binding, even when they judge it expedient, in view of some incidental circumstances, that it should be ful- filled. They always make a distinction,(and it is a distinction which is fully recognised in law both Municipal and Inter- national,) between an extorted promise and a free promise. And if an extorted promise is actually different from a free one, it must be because extortion implies a degree of enthral- ment. And this is the fact. When the question of life and death is placed before a man at once, and without giving him time for reflection and for strengthening his resolves, the fear becomes so exces- sive that there is no sort of proportion between the strength of the motive, and that of other principles within him, which might furnish the elements of resistance. Those supports,up- on which the will is wont to rely in seasons of trying assault and great emergency, are suddenly overthrown ; and it is prostrated and carried away captive almost without a conflict. The person himself, if the circumstances are of a nature so decisive as has been stated, experiences no convictions of guilt for subsequently violating a promise made under such a mental pressure, nor is he condemned by the moral sense of the community at large,' They perceive almost instinc- 288 ENTHRALMENT OR tively, that by a sudden comjuncture of circumstances, for which the individual is not himself responsible, the due bal- ance and harmony of the powers of the mind has been de- stroyed ; and that it is unreasonable in such a state of things to expect results, which can properly be the subjects either of praise or blame. §. 192. Illustration of the same subject from cases oj torture. We may propose another illustration; "which will help to make the subject more fully and clearly understood. In for- mer ages it was no uncommon practice to put persons to the torture, in order to obtain their testimony. They were first subjected to the darkness and privations of a dungeon ; and after being worn down by this gradual form of suffering, their feet were applied to heated plates of iron ; their flesh was burnt and torn by pincers ; their limbs were wrenched and almost forced asunder ; and in these, and in various other ways they were compelled to endure almost every pos- sible degree of misery. And it was not unfrequently the case, that persons under this extremity of suffering uttered what was untrue. But no one thinks of condemning the moral delinquency, if it existed at all under such circumstan- ces, as equalling the aggravation of a falsehood uttered in ordi- nary cases. In all such cases every body perceives and feels, that the due balance and harmony of the mind is destroyed. Such an extreme pressure is brought to bear upon the mind in a particular direction, that its parts become, for the time being, dislocated, and utterly incapable of any just and ac- countable action. In other words there is an utter slavery of the voluntary power, and as the individual is not the cause of putting himself in this situation, we often only sym- pathize and pity, when we should otherwise condemn. It is indeed possible for as to condemn in some degree, when the suffering does not appear to be extreme; but the con- SLAVERY QF THE WILL 289 demnation is always mitigated, and in many cases does not exist at all. "The common sense of mankind, says Mr. Stewart, pro- nounces men to be accountable for their conduct, only in so far as they are understood to be morally free. Whence is it, that we consider the pain of the rack as an alleviation of the falsehoods extorted from the criminal? Plainly because the motives presented to him are supposed to be such as no ordinary degree of self-command is able to resist. And if we were only satisfied, that these motives are perfectly irres- istible, we would not ascribe to him any guilt at all."*— This is undoubtedly the true philosophy in this matter. §. 193. Historical illustrations of the subject. And here, with the permission of the reader, we will in- troduce a piece of literary history, which we find in D'lsra- eli, who, in his attempts to interest the curiosity and to give pleasure, has in various passages thrown much light upon the human mind. In the reign of Charles First of England, a man by the name of Felton, the assassinator of the Duke of Buckingham, was menaced with torture for the purpose and with the expectation of extracting from him the names of his accomplices. The communication, that it was the king's pleasure, that he should be put to the torture, was made to him by Lord Dorset, who accordingly gave him no- tice to prepare for the rack. Felton, after solemnly affirming that his purpose to commit the crime was not known to any man living, said; " but if it be his majesty's pleasure, I am ready to suffer whatever his majesty will have inflicted upon me. Yet this I must tell you by the way, that if I be put upon the rack J will accuse you,myLord Dorset,and none but yourself. "f ♦Philosophy of the Moral and Active Powers, Appendix I. §. 3. t D' Israeli's Curiosities of Literature, Vol. Ill 37 2 o ENTHRALMENT OR Here is a text in ethical casuistry, affording abundant food for meditation. Felton foresaw, that it would probably be impossible for him to endure the suffering which would be inflicted ; that he would be under a mental necessity of accusing somebody; and he considered it of but little consequence whom he should name under such circumstan- ces, inasmuch as it could not rightfully be regarded either as a proof of falsehood in himself or of guilt in others. And was he not essentially right? Can a man be consider- ed as justly accountable for what is extracted from him under the pressure of the intense sufferings of the torture. In Fox's well known History of Christian Martyrdoms, a book where fiendish cruelty is arrayed side by side with transcendant virtue, there is an account of a Portuguese young lady resident in the city of Lisbon, who was taken up by the inquisitors and ordered to be put to the rack. Un- able to endure the torments that were inflicted, she confes- sed the charges brought against her. " The cords were then slackened, says the historian, and she was reconducted to her cell, where she remained till she had recovered the use of her limbs; she was then brought again before the tribu- nal, and ordered to ratify her confession. This she abso- lutely refused to do, telling them that what she had said was forced from her by the excessive pain she underwent. The inquisitors, incensed at this reply, ordered her again to be put to the rack, when the weakness of nature once more pre- vailed, and she repeated her former confession. She was immediately remanded to her cell: and being a third time brought before the inquisitors, they ordered her to sign her first and second confessions. She answered as before, but added, (( I have twice given way to the frailty of the flesh, and perhaps may, while on the rack, be weak enough to do so again; but depend upon it, if you torture me a hundred SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 291 times, as soon as I am released from the rack I shall deny what was extorted, from me by pain."* Such illustrations and facts show clearly and decisively, that there is such a thing as mental enthralment ; that it is not a mere fiction, hut exists as truly and undeniably as en- thralment of the body. And such being the fact, it becomes an important subject both of philosophical and ethical in- quiry. §. 194. The will enthralled hy the indulgence of the appetites. With these general explanations before us on the nature of Mental Slavery, and in particular of the slavery of the will, we are the better prepared to contemplate the subject by going more into particulars. We have instances of the prostration and enslavement of the will, unhappily too often witnessed, in the undue indulgence of the appetites. Look at the man, who habitually indulges himself in the use of ar- dent spirits. Every time he carries the intoxicating potion to his lips, the sensation of taste, in accordance with the law of our nature that the various states of the mind become more prompt and vigorous in their exercise by repetition, acquires an increased degree of pleasantness. At the same time, the feeling of uneasiness, when the sensation is not indulged by drinking, is increased in a corresponding de- gree ; and of course the desire, which is necessarily atten- dant upon the uneasy feeling, becomes in like manner more and more importunate and imperative. During all this time the internal harmony of the mind is interrupted. The other parts of the mind revolt, if we may so speak, against the usurpations of this unholy and destructive desire. The rea- son points out the evil consequences ; the natural de- sire of esteem throws itself in front of the enemy; the conscience remonstrates and calls aloud; the will sum- * Universal History of Christian Martyrdom, Bk. V, § 2d. 292 ENTHRALMENT OR mons up its strength and makes a serious resistance. But the desire, growing daily stronger and stronger, gains the victory over one opponent after another ; it tramples on the innate regard for the good opinion of others; it stops the hearing and puts out the eyes of conscience ; it pays no regard to the admonitions of reason ; like a strong man armed, it violently seizes the will, binds it hand and foot, and hurls it into the dust. What slavery can be more dreadful than this? The victim of this tremendous usurpa- pation, which he has fostered and brought about by his own wicked indulgences, is driven about in various directions, like the men of Scripture who were possessed with devils; and at, last forced over the precipice with his eyes open, he plunges down into the bottomless depths. §, 195. Enthralment of the will occasioned by predominant and overruling propensities. We. may apply these views to other active principles of a higher order than the appetites, such as the propensities and passions or affections. It is well understood, that our pro- pensities and passions of whatever kind, as well as the ap- petites, grow stronger and stronger by repetition. And there are not unfrequently cases, where they have become so intense after years of such repetition, as to control, or, in other words, enthral the voluntary power almost entirely. And we accordingly proceed to remark, that one of the most common and lamentable forms, in which mental slavery ex- ists, is the desire of wealth. We sometimes find men so en- tirely absorbed in this pursuit as to annihilate them, as it were, to every thing else. It so completely occupies every thought and feeling as to exclude all other objects, and to render them mentally debased and subjugated to the lowest degree. There have been men of great wealch, who were so entirely under the influence of avarice, that they could SLAVERY OP THE WILL. 293 not be persuaded to expend enough for the common comforts of life, and who would even gather up the cast off clothes and sticks and nails, that are found in the street, to add something, even the merest trifle, to their heaps of treasure. We have some account of the characteristics of the insane Auri fames, as he terms it, in the medical writings of Dr. Good, an acute and laborious observer of nature, both in her material and immaterial forms. " The passion of Avarice has not a stirring property of any kind belonging to it, but benumbs and chills every energy of the body as well as of the soul, like the stream of Lethe: even the imagination is rendered cold and stagnant, and the only passions with which it forms a confederacy, are the miserable train of gloomy fear, suspicion, and anxiety. The body grows thin in the midst of wealth,the limbs totter though surrounded by cordial s,and the man voluntarily starves himself in the grana- ry of plenty, not from the want of appetite, but from a dread of giving way to it. The individual, who is in such a state of mind, must be estranged upon this point, howmuchsoever he may be at home upon others. Yet these are cases that are daily occurring, and have been in all ages: though perhaps one of the most curious is that related by Valerius Maximus of a miser, who took advantage of a famine to sell a mouse for two hundred pence, and then famished himself with the money in his pocket And hence the madness of the cove- tous man has been the subject of sarcasm and ridicule by moralists and dramatic writers of every period, of which we have sufficient examples in the writings of Aristophanes, Lucian, and Moliere."* §. 196. The will enthralled by inordinate ambition. The love of power, or ambition in any of its forms, if it gain an uncontrolled ascendency, will be found to cause such * Good's Study of Medicine, Vol. IV, p. 132. Cooper's Ed. 294 ENTHRALMENT OR a degree of pressure upon the domains of the will, as great- ly to perplex and even enthral its action. It will not avail the individual, who is the subject of this inordinate ambition, that he is not wanting in energy of character ; that he is in ordinary cases a man of great promptness and decision. There is no efficiency or energy of the will so great, either originally or by culture, as not to be perplexed, weakened, and in some of the circumstances of its action entirely over- thrown by the inordinate increase of this passion. And we have reason to think, that we can make this position good, (saying nothing of the proofs which are almost daily and hourly presenting themselves to our notice,) by a remarka- ble instance. If any one will take the trouble to examine carefully and to estimate the life of the emperor Napoleon, he will be satisfied, that there is nothing more worthy of no- tice in the character of that remarkable man, than his ener- gy, his decision, his perfect control of all his powers. If we may judge with tolerable precision of a man's control over himself by his control over others, (which is at least one of the elements of a correct judgment in this matter,) we should certainly say, that but few men ever possessed greater self- command, both in respect to the understanding and the pas- sions. The action of his mind, both in planning what was to be done and in carrying it into execution, was always energetic in the highest degree, which can never be said of one whose will is weak. The movement of his volition, like some electric element of nature, instantaneously penetrated in all directions ; and all persons, who were in communica- tion with him, instinctively felt their own minds tremble and quail before it- But it cannot be too often remembered and repeated, that the will, like the other mental capabilities, is a price put into our hands to be employed by us in accordance with its nature; and however great its natural or acquired energy,that encroachments cannot be made upon it from any SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 295 other source without great danger. Unfortunately the va- rious situations, in which the emperor of the French was placed, all tended to foster the love of power and domination. The acquisition of supreme dominion over the nations was the burden of his meditations, the constant object of his de- sires. In the end, the lust of power became so predominant, that, in all matters where it was concerned, there no longer remained any authority, any effective power of the mind, that seemed to be capable of checking and controlling it. That strong and impetuous will, which had subdued all oth- ers before it, was insidiously approached by this enemy from beneath, and before the danger was fully perceived, was ta- ken captive and bound with cords of iron. Napoleon him- self was conscious " of his situation, and feeling within him the demonstrations of this incontrollable impulse, usurping an authority to which nature never entitled it, and driving him hither and thither in a mad and measureless career, he began to talk about his horoscope, his star invisible to oth- ers, unalterable fate, and destiny. This is the common lan- guage of persons, who have lost the true balance of the mind, and have permitted unauthorized passions to gain the ascendency. §. 197. The will enslaved by the indulgence of the passions. One of the most common instances of an enslaved will is that of persons, who have long indulged in angry and violent passions. It is said of Frederic William of Prussia, the fa- ther of Frederic the Great, that he was "of a temper so vio- lent and ungovernable, that his passions almost amounted to madness."* And happy would it be, if such instances were found only here and there on the pages of history. But it is a melancholy fact, as every careful observer of human na- ture knows, that there is scarcely a neighbourhood without * Lord Dover's Life of Frederic Second, Chap. I. 29(5 ENTHRALMENT OR them. These passions, which are so ungovernable at last, are perhaps feeble in the beginning; and the unhappy sub- jects of them may not be fully aware at first of what will as- suredly take place in the latter end. But for successive years they are repeated and indulged ; and each returning year and month and day adds to their intensity. So that the man in this situation, (to use an expression happily ap- plied by a Latin writer to Alexander in one of his fits of rage,) becomes in respect to any control over them, irrvpotens animi. He is a victim, sealed to destruction by his. own hand. When the occasion of the passion occurs, (and in the case of the persons whom we now have in view occasions are almost constantly occurring,) the feeble will trembles and bows before it, like the flexible reed in a tempest. §. 198. Inordinate intensity of the domestic affections. It will throw some light upon the nature of the enthral- ment or slavery of the will, if we consider the operations and results of some of the benevolent affections, when such affections exist in a high degree of intensity. It is proper to add, however, that we have not reference to temporary excitements, to sudden ebullitions and gusts of feeling, so much as to a fixed and permanent intensity. It might be naturally expected, that a sudden overflowing of the affec- tions would jar upon the harmony and interrupt the order of tlie mind's action; not only in respect to the will, but gen- erally. Such cases we have not now particularly in view ; but others of greater permanency, though perhaps sometimes of less violence. It is sometimes the case, that the domestic affections, the love of parents for their children, or of children for their pa- rents, or that complexity of deep and sacred feeling, which is embraced in the remembrance and the love of home, so pervades and fills the mind, as greatly, in certain situations, SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 297 to embarrass the action of the will, and in fact to subject it to a greater or less degree of entbralment. If the individual, in whom the domestic affections exist in a very intense degree, is for some reason separated from the hills and woods of his childhood, from the hearth of his fathers, from the endearing company of those who sustain the most intimate relations, how greatly is his heart affected! What exquisite anguish fills his breast! Whatever plans he forms, whatev- er course of life he proposes to enter upon, he finds that the lovely and cherished image of the past constantly rises be- fore him, and by its contrast with the present renders him wretched. He makes various efforts to free himself from the pressure of this mental thraldom ; he calls up all the re- sources of his intellect; he reasons upon the perplexities and miseries of his situation, but all in vain. The fatal passion, so deeply rooted in his bosom, constantly besets him; it passes before and obscures the intellectual vision; it pros- trates and scatters to the wind the determinations, even the most deliberate and sacred resolves of the voluntary power. Neither the sunny skies and the blooming fields of nature, nor the beautiful works of art, nor the woody depths and the rugged rocks of an anchorite's abode, nor the wonders of the wide ocean, nor the massy walls of a prison, can change the direction of his thoughts, and expel the immuta- ble passion from his breast. If we may believe the state- ments of Rousseau and other writers, those inhabitants of the retired and solitary mountains and vales of Switzerland, who have been employed in foreign military service, have sometimes sickened and died, under the influence of this strong and incontrollable love of country and home, •' The intrepid Swiss, that guards a foreign shore, " Condemned to climb his mountain cliffs no more, '• If chance he hears the song so sweetly wild, 38 298 ENTHRALMENT OR " Which on those cliffs his infant hours beguiled, " Melts at the long-lost scenes that round him rise, " And sinks, a martyr to repentant sighs. §. 199. Of the slavery of the will in connection with moral ac- countability. In concluding the remarks of this chapter it is proper briefly to notice an interesting inquiry which naturally comes up here. The inquiry we refer to is, What bearing have these views on moral accountability ? And we may undoubtedly answer it by saying in general terms, that our moral accountability remains, in a greater or less degree', so long as the due proportion or balance between the various powers of the mind is not wholly destroyed. If we permit the undue aud unholy exercise of any appetite or passion, we are indeed enslaved, (in the sense in which slavery or en- thralment is predicable of the mind,) by such appetite or passion; but we are not therefore removed beyond the reach of accountability and guilt ; but on the contrary are both accountable and highly criminal, so long as there remain in our minds, either in the will or any where else, any powers of right' judgment and resistance. When such powers of judgment and resistance no longer remain, then our actions, of whatever kind they may be, are neither criminal nor mer- itorious; although we may be criminal for bringing ourselves into this situation. Mental slavery, when it becomes so in- tense as actually to disorganize the mind and to pass over into the regions of insanity destroys accountability, but not before. So long as it. does not pass within the limits of mental alienation and become merged in insanity, it is so far from rendering a person guiltless, that it might not be difficult to show that guilt or sin is identical with it. In other words, that there is no sin, where there is no slavery. SLAVERY Or THE WILL. 299 The Scriptures themselves seem to recognize some such view. "Jesus answered them, Verily, verily I say unto you, Whosoever committeth sin, is the servant of sin." . " But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin." — " Because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption, into the glorious liberty of the children of God." — " For when ye were servants of sin, ye were free from righteousness." — "While they promise them liberty, they themselves are the servants of corruption ; for of whom a man is overcome, of the same is he brought in bon- dage."— John 8, 34. Rom. 6, 20. 7, 23. 8, 21, 2d Peter 2, 19. It will be kept in mind, however, that we do not intend to apply these remarks to cases, where the will is brought into subjection by means extraneous to the person himself, and operating upon him without his concurrence or consent, as in the case just now referred to of extreme suffering by torture. In all such cases it is undeniable, that moral ac- countability, on the part of the person who is subjected to. such suffering, is either greatly diminished, or ceases to exist altogether. Under the pressure of a suffering so in- tense as wholly to prostrate the action of the voluntary power, he is no more accountable for what he does, than he would be for what he is compelled to do by actual bodily constraint. CHAPTER EIGHTH. ALIENATION OR INSANITY OF THE WILL. §. 200. Insanity predicable of all the powers of the mind. The view, which has been given of the freedom of the will, including those things, which are more or less at vari- ance with a state of perfect freedom, would certainly not he complete, and might perhaps be liable to misapprehension, if we were not to add something on the nature of Alienation or Insanity of the will. There are some grounds for the remark, (and perhaps we may go so far as to make the assertion without any qualification whatever,) that there may be an Alienation or Insanity of every part and power of the mind. The power of external perception, the memory, the judgment, the reasoning power, the power of asso- ciation, the imagination, the passions, may each of them separately, as well as in their combination with each other, suffer so great a degree of disorder and derangement as to constitute what may be termed insanity. — And this remark leads to another, which may properly be made in this con- nection, viz, that the whole subject of insanity, as there is reason $o believe, has been compressed within too narrow ALIENATION OF THE WILL. 301 limits. We are sustained by the opinion of a valuable wri- ter on this subject,when we say, that this department of phi- losophical inquiry has suffered more than most others, from arbitrary or too restricted definitions* When we are told, on the authority of Cullen, that insanity is " an impairment of the judging faculty," or even on the authority of Locke that " it is putting wrong ideas together and so making wrong propositions, but arguing and reasoning right from them," we have, it is true,the announcement of some cases of mental alienation, but obviously to the exclusion of a multi- tude of others. Insanity, in its application to the mind, ex- presses, in its literal import, the simple fact of disorder, alien- ation, or unsoundness of mind ; and its true limits are co-ex- tensive with the opposite, viz, with a just, orderly, sound or sane state of the mind. We do not mean to say, that every variation of any and every mental power from a just and sane state, however slight it may be, constitutes insanity ; but wish to be understood as merely saying, that every such variation, when it is carried to a certain extent or degree, constitutes it. And consequently that the limits or sphere of insanity is no less extensive than that of the mind itself. And hence there may be, and is, a reasonableness and pro- priety in speaking of the alienation or insanity of the will. <§. 201. Of alienation or insanity of the will. There is a remark of M. Pinel in his Treatise on Insani- ty to this effect, that the active faculties, (under which phrase he includes those mental states, which are more immediately connected with action, such as the emotions, desires, and passions,) are as much subject to serious injuries and disor- ders, as the intellectual faculties; and that, although a disor- dered state of the active faculties is sometimes associated * Dr. Conolly. — Inquiry concerning the Indications of Insanity. $02 ALIENATION OE with a like disordered condition of the intellect, yet this is not always the case, and the former sometimes exists with- out the latter. He subsequently says expressly that the functions of the will, (a power which he undoubtedly embra- ces also under the general head of the Active faculties,) are absolutely distinct from those of the UNDERSTANDiNG,and that their seat, causes, and reciprocal dependencies are essential- ly different. This is said in a portion of his Work, the ti- tle of which is, the functions of the ivill exclusively diseased; and in the course of which he gives an instance of alienation of the will. The insanity of the individual, of whom he gives an account, was periodical; the paroxysms generally return- ing after an interval of several months. The shape of his insanity was that of an irresistible propensity to commit acts of barbarity and bloodshed. There was no disorder of the intellect; the memory, judgment, and imagination were perfectly sound; but his will, upon which men in ordi- nary cases rely for a resistance to inordinate passions, was entirely powerless, at least as compared with the intensity of his passion, and not even those persons, to whom at other times he appeared most attached, were safe in his presence. It is proper to remark here, that there seems to be, in the original constitution of the mind, a sort of correspondence or proportion between the desires and passions on the one hand, and the will on the other. That is to say ; the pow- er which the will possesses, whether more or less, bears a species of relation and proportion to the power of the de- sires and passions. Hence it happens, whatever may be the original power of the will, that an increase of the desires and passions to a certain degree of intensity is wholly incon- sistent with a due exercise of its authority; it is violently taken captive, and is virtually and to all useful purposes destitute of ability. A case of this kind, (and such is the instance narrated in the Treatise of M. Pinel,) is one, not of INSANITY OF THE WILL. 303 mere enthralment or slavery, but truly a case of insanity. In consequence of the circumstance, that this alienation of the will is owing to a peculiar state of the desires and pas- sions, it is sometimes denominated alienation or insanity of the passions. §. 202. Another instance of this species of insanity. Some other instances, which might be adduced^ as illus- trating this form of insanity of the will, are given by M. Pi- ne], one of which we will repeat in his own words, as it fur- nishes an important practical lesson to those, who have the training of children and youth. — "An only son of a weak and indulgent mother was encouraged in the gratification of every caprice and passion, of which an untutored and vio- lent temper was susceptible. The impetuosity of his dis- position increased with his years. The money, with which he was lavishly supplied, removed every obstacle to his wild desires. Every instance of opposition or resistance roused him to acts of fury. He assaulted his adversary with the audacity of a savage; sought to reign by force ; and was perpetually embroiled in disputes and quarrels." "This wayward youth, however, when unmoved by passions, pos- sessed a perfectly sound judgment. When he came of age, he succeeded to the possession of an extensive domain. He proved himself fully competent to the management of his estate, as well as to the discharge of his relative duties ; and he even distinguished himself by acts of beneficence and compassion. Wounds, law -suits, and pecuniary compen- sations were generally the consequences of his unhappy propensity to quarrel. But an act of notoriety put an end to his career of violence. Enraged at a woman, who had used offensive language to him, he precipitated her into a well. Prosecution was commenced against him, and on the depo- sition of a great many witnesses, who gave evidence to his 804 ALIENATION OR furious deportment, he was condemned to perpetual confine- ment at [the Insane Hospital of] Bicetre," §. 203. Of insanity of the will in connection with cases of casual association. Alienation or insanity of the will exists in many cases of strong casual association. Some persons, in consequence of such associations, are utterly unable to bear the sight of certain objects, however harmless they may be. Some instances were mentioned in the eighth chapter of Part Second, the particulars of which it is unnecessary here to repeat, and which will be found on referring to them fully to illustrate the subject. Peter the Great, in whom energy of the will was a conspicuous characteristic, was utterly una- able to bear the sight of a mere insect ; James I of England could not look on a sword unsheathed ; La Rochejaquelin, who on the field of battle bore the palm of chivalrous brave- ry from all others, still had not courage enough to encoun- ter a harmless squirrel. In these and a multitude *of other cases like them, we have instances of men, many of whom in general possessed great energy and decision, but who displayed in certain conjunctures, however trivial they might be, the greatest imbecility. And it does not appear, how we can give an explanation of them, except on the ground, that the disorder of mind, which is primarily seated in the power of association, ultimately diffused itself into the region of the will, and completely annihilated its energy within the sphere embraced by the particular association. Perhaps we have in the personal history of Dr Johnson an instance of alienation of will, based on a disordered casual association. " He had another particularity, says his biog- rapher, of which none of his friends ever ventured to ask an * See Good's Study of Medicine, Neurotica, Ord- IV, Gen. III. INSANITY OF THE WILL. 805 explanation. It appeared to me some superstitious habit, which he had contracted early, and from which he had never called upon his reason to disentangle him. This was his anxious care to go out or in at a door or passage, by a cer- tain number of steps from a certain point, or at least so that as either his right or left foot, (I am not certain which,) should coBstantly make the first movement when he came close to the door or passage. Thus I conjecture: for I have, upon innumerable occasions, observed him suddenly stop, and then seem to count his steps with a deep earnestness; and when he had neglected or gone wrong in this sort of magical movement, I have seen him go back again, put himself into a proper posture to begin the ceremony, and having gone through it, break from his abstraction, walk briskly on, and join his company." With such clearness of perception, with such vast powers of understanding as Dr. Johnson pos- sessed-, we cannot suppose, that he would ever have submit- ted to the utter folly of such a practice, if his will had not entirely lost its power in that particular, in consequence of some early association, which had fastened itself in the mind too deeply for eradication. §. 204. Of alienation of the will as connected with a disordered state or alienation of belief Although each of the mental powers may become disor- dered and alienated in itself, yet this alienation depends not unfrequently upon the connection which such power has with others. And this is particularly true, (perhaps more so than in respect to any other faculty of the mind,) in relation to the will. It appeared in some remarks in the Part First of this treatise, that there is a close connection between vo- lition and that state of the mind, which is termed Belief; that the strength of the volition will become diminished more 39 ,306 ALIENATION OR and more in conformity with the diminution of belief; and that by the original constitution of the mind itself there is not even a possibility of putting forth the exercise of voli- tion, when there is no belief that the thing to which it re- lates is in our power. Hence it follows as a general truth, that a disordered or alienated state of belief will be follow- ed by a corresponding alienation of the will. If a man, in the condition of insanity of belief, truly looks upon himself as made of glass, it is just as difficult for him to ivillto move himself about rapidly and to throw himself suddenly and vio- lently in contact with solid and hard bodies, as it is for a man in sane mind to will to thrust his hand or foot into the fire or boiling water, which with many persons would be found to be an utter impossibility His will is in such cases enslaved, (not in the more common and ordinary form of en- thralment, which is fully consistent with moral accountabili- ty,) but to the degree of insanity. We will suppose, that a man in the state of insanity of belief has a firm and unalter- able conviction, as much so as of his own existence, that.he has by amputation or in some way lost an arm or a leg; and it will be found, just so long as he remains the subject of this alienation of belief, impossible for him to put forth a single volition, having a relation to the action of those parts of the body. To that extent the power of willing is entirely lost. If his physician or any one else should require him to put forth such volition, it would appear to him, (and necessarily so from the constitution of the mind itself,) not only impos- sible, but as supremely ridiculous as for a man of sound mind to will to walk upon the ocean or to fly in the air. §. 205. Alienation of the will in connection with melancholy. Furthermore, the will is sometimes alienated, (that is to say, is in that state which is usually indicated by the term insanity,) in cases, where there is a deeply rooted and per- INSANITY OF THE WILL. 307 manent melancholy. ' The mind of the person is fixed upon some gloomy subject ; it remains the object of contempla- tion day after day and hour after hour; a thick, impenetrable cloud seems to invest every prospect whether present or fu- ture. It seems to the spectator that there is nothing wan- ting but a mere act of the will, a resolution, a mere decision, in order to bring the person out ofthis state of gloomy inac- tivit} 1- and carry him once more into the discharge of the du- ties of life. And this is true, if the will could be made to act. But the gloom spreads itself from the understanding to the heart, and from the heart to the region of the voluntary power; and the will, invested on every side by the dark- ness of this dense and impenetrable atmosphere, remains closed up and fixed, as if imbedded in a mass of ice. "When the gloom is deepened to a certain degree, although the power of the will is not entirely gone, it is impossible for it to put forth any effective action. The English poet Collins is an instance of this unhappy state of mind. " He languished some years, says his biographer, under that de- pression of mind, which enchains the faculties without des- troying them, and leaves reason the knowledge of right wilhout the power of pursuing it. These clouds, which he per- ceived gathering upon his intellects, he endeavoured to dis- perse by travel, and passed into France; but found himself constrained to yield to his maladj^ and returned. He was for some time confined in a house of lunatics."* Well might this genuine poet have adopted the language, afterwards so feelingly applied to himself by his biographer, "Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased ? "Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ? * Johnson's Lives of the English Poets, Art. Collins. 30S ALIENATION OR §. 206. Of alienation of the will termed incgnstantia. There is another form of alienation of the will, distinct from those which have been mentioned, but perhaps of no less frequent occurrence. It is noticed more or less by wri- ters on insanity; and is classed by Dr. Good in the species of moria imbecillis, under the name of inconstantia. This mental disease is often connected with an irregular action of the power of association; and the cases, which illustrate it, might many times be arranged, according to the view which is taken of them, either as instances of alienated will or alienated association. The persons, who are subject to this form of insanity, (for when it exists in a very high degree, this state of mind may justly be regarded as one of insani- ty,) are designated by various epithets, such as fickle, flighty, lightheaded, hair-brained. The thoughts of these persons fly from one subject to another with great raprdity ; their bodies are almost always in motion ; and their volubili- ty of speech is excessive. M. Pinel mentions an instance, (a gentleman who had been educated in the prejudices of the ancient noblesse of France,) which illustrates this singular condition of mind. " He constantly bustled about the house, talking incessantly, shouting, and throwing himself into great passions for the most trifling causes. He teased his domestics by the most frivolous orders, and his neigh- bours by his fooleries and extravagances, of which he retain- ed not the least recollection for a single moment. He talk- ed with the greatest volatility of the court, of his periwig, of his horses, of his gardens, without waiting for an answer, or giving time to follow his incoherent jargon." In all these cases, whatever may be the cause of it, the will has obviously lost its power ; it has ceased, and appa- rently without the possibility of doing otherwise, to exer- INSANITY OF THE WILL. 309 cise that authority over the other powers of the mind, to which it is entitled. It is ohviously the allotment and busi- ness of the will to stand at the helm, and resolutely and firm- ly to keep the vessel on her course, not only in ordinary oc- casions, but in those seasons of agitation and trial, when the billows heave from below and the tempests beat from above. But when it is under the influence of this disease, its arm becomes powerless; the helm is wrenched from its grasp; and the whole man is violently driven about, in each contra- riety of direction, by every wind of heaven and every surge of the ocean. §. 207. Of acco untability in connection with alienation or insanity of the will. It will be seen from what has been said, that the particu- lar form or aspect of insanity of the will is very various ; sometimes consisting of the entire or almost entire abstrac- tion of its own power ; sometimes in an immoveable fixed- ness, either occasioned by its own imbecility or the undue pre- ponderance of some other principle; sometimes in an action, powerful enough perhaps, but urged on and wholly shut up in one direction, and not in possession of an adequate degree of liberty; sometimes in a fickleness approaching to entire contingency, .occasioned by the suspension or violation of those general laws, by which the action of the will is ordi- narily restrained and regulated.- — In all cases of actual in- sanity, under whatever aspect or form it may appear, the person, who is the subject of it, is free from moral accounta- bility, to the degree or extent in which the insanity exists ; for it has now become a settled principle on the subject of mental alienation, and one which is perfectly well under- stood, that not unfrequently the insanity extends to a par- ticular power or a particular subject, and that beyond that 310 ALIENATION OF THE WILL, particular power or subject the ordinary degree of percep- tion and action remains. But the question here presents itself to us, how can we ascertain the existence of insanity ? By what rule can it be discovered or known to exist in a particular case? How can the line of demarcation be detected between that pres- sure of the will, known as enthralment or slavery, which is consistent with moral accountability, and insanity of the will which wholly destroys it ? On this subject we do not feel called upon to lay down any general rule; nor, if we were, should we be able to do it. The Supreme Being alone can tell with entire certainty when the limit is passed, beyond which moral accountability ceases to exist. Men can do nothing more than approximate to such certainty of decision, determining according to the best of their judgment on the circumstances of individual cases. PART FOURTH. POWER OF THE WILL. CHAPTER, FIRST. NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. §. 208. Of the distinction between liberty and power. We now enter again upon a distinct series of subjects, which present the will to our notice in a new aspect. They are subsequent in the order of examination, but they are not wanting either in importance or interest. In this last Part of our Work, we propose to examine the Power of the will and the various topics, that are naturally connected with it. But in making the power of the will a distinct subject of examination, it is proper to remark, that we deviate from the view of many writers, and some of them of no mean rank, who seem to have considered the power of the will and its liberty as one and the same thing. And this confusion of things which are entirely distinct, has been one cause of that obscurity, which has ever rested in too great a degree on the whole subject. It is not altogether surprising however, that an errour should have been committed here, when we consider how apt we are to confound together objects, whatever grounds there may be for a distinction between them, which are of- 40 314 NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. ten united together in our thoughts. The material world is so constituted, that in our perceptions of extension and color we find them necessarily always accompanying each other; so that after a time we find it very difficult to exclude from our notion of the sensation of colour the idea of extension. And it is undoubtedly much the same in all similar cases ; and among others in that of freedom and power, which also are found to be closely associated together. It is obvious, that there is no freedom, where there is no power; it seems to be undeniable, that in the nature of things they go to- gether; and they are therefore so closely connected in our thoughts, that we ultimately find it difficult to make the proper distinction between them. §. 209. Proof of the distinction between liberty and power. We presume to anticipate, that, after the reader has gone through with what we have to say on this general subject of voluntary power, especially if he will take the pains to com- pare it with what has already been said on the nature of liberty, he will not be disposed to take exceptions to the distinction, which we assert to exist between liberty and power. And yet, although it is unnecessary, in this stage of our remarks, to spend much time on this particular topic, there is a propriety in briefly introducing a few circumstan- ces in support of the distinction before us. And accor- dingly we remark, in the first place, that there are sometimes diversities or different degrees in the amount of power, even to a marked and decided extent, while the amount of freedom is essentially the same, which could not well be the case, if liberty and power were identical. Take a single illustra- tion. There is as much freedom, in any true and proper sense of the term freedom, in the mind of a child, whose in- tellect, just beginning to open, cannot expand itself beyond the limits of his native village, as in that of a philosopher, NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. 315 whose thoughts embrace the world, and even systems of worlds. The sphere of the child's mind is indeed a very- limited one in comparison with that of the philosopher; but the degree of freedom enjoyed by it is essentially the same. But while there is undeniably in these two cases an equal or nearly equal degree of mental liberty, within the respec- tive spheres of the mind's operations, no one will undertake to say, that there is the same or nearly the same degree of mental power. The sphere of mental action is unquestiona- bly different, being more extended in the one case than the other ; the power or energy of mental action also is differ- ent, not slightly so but in the higest degree; but the free- dom of the mind in these two cases, which are so different in other respects, may be entirely the same. — If there should be a difference in the amount of liberty we should expect it to be in favor of the child or youth, rather than of the man ; because, at that early period of life, the relative position of the mental powers, (although those powers are very far at any period from having escaped the derangement resulting from the fallen condition of the human race,) is comparative- ly undisturbed. While, on the contrary, we too often find it to be the case, that advancement in age is attended by an increase of internal disorder exceedingly at variance with that regularity and harmony of mental action, which is the basis of the highest liberty. §. 210. The distinction of power and liberty involved in the fact of our being able to form the abstract ideas oj power and liberty. In the second place, our consciousness, (that internal re- flection which we are able to bestow upon what takes place in the mind itself,) assures us, that we are able to form the abstract idea of liberty, and also that we are able to form the abstract idea of power; and if ourjnternal mental ex-. 316 NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. • perience thus assures us of the existence of the two, it of course assures us of a distinction between them. Every simple idea,as it is an unit and is inseparable into parts, must necessarily have a character of its own, which is definite and immutable. And if we are capable, therefore, of forming these two distinct ideas of power and liberty, (as the gener- al consciousness on the subject seems clearly to testify,) it will necessarily follow, that they are entirely distinct in their nature; and although they may be closely connected together by accidental circumstances or in any other way, so much so that we cannot conceive of the one without imply- ing the existence of the other, it is still true, that in them- selves considered they are entirely separate, each having an entity and a character of its own. And if the ideas of liberty and power are thus distinct from each other, then we are un- der the necessity of drawing the inference, that the things, for which they stand,or in other words that power and liberty, in their state of actual realization, are different from each other. §. 211. Distinction of power and liberty shown jrom language. That there exists a distinction between mental power and mental liberty, and that this distinction is to be fully recognized and received, seems to be evident, in the third place, from the structure of language. In the English lan- guage we have the two terms in question, which we con- stantly use, not as synonymous terms, but as truly expres- sive of things, which are different from each other. And as it is the same in all other languages, we may well regard this as a circumstance, which decisively indicates the gener- al conviction and belief on this subject. The existence of a belief so general and so deeply founded does not appear to admit of any satisfactory explanation, except on the ground of the actual existence of the distinction, to which the be- lief relates. NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. 31? §. 212. Further shown from the fact of our possessing a moral nature. Furthermore, the possession of mental power, as well as of mental liberty, is involved in the fact, that man is a mor- al and accountable being. In all the leading questions, which have a relation to our moral nature, we are thrown back upon the elementary suggestions, upon the first and immutable principles of our mental constitution. Our Cre- ator has not left these questions to be settled by the ab- struse deductions of philosophers; but has written their solu- tion in letters of light on the tablet of the common heart of mankind. All classes and descriptions of men are alike ca- pable of understanding their import, and of rendering their interpretation. They all know, hardly less than they know their own identity, and far better than any human philosophy can teach them, that moral responsibleness implies the exis- tence of power, and that the defect of power necessarily in- volves the negation of accountability. " There is, says Dr. Reid, a perfect correspondence be- tween power on the one hand, and moral obligation and ac- countableness on the other. They not only correspond in general, as they respect voluntary actions only, but every limitation of the first produces a corresponding limitation of the two last. This indeed amounts to nothing more than that maxim of common sense, confirmed by Divine authority, that to whom much is given, of him much will be required." "A certain degree of active power is the talent which God has given to every rational accountable creature, and of which he will require an account. If man had no power, he would have nothing to account for. All wise and all foolish conduct, all virtue and vice, consist in the right use or in the abuse of that power which God has given us. If 318 NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. man had no power, he could neither he wise nor foolish, vir- tuous nor vicious."* §. 213. Origin of the idea of power in Original Suggestion. What has so far been said in this Chapter, at least when taken in connection with the illustrations of voluntary pow- er hereafter given, abundantly shows, that there is a distinc- tion between power and liberty, and that it is important not to confound them together. The subject of power, there- fore, is a subject by itself; and requiring a separate and careful consideration. — And in entering upon the examina- tion of this subject, it seems to be a proper place here, to say a few words in explanation of the origin of the idea of power. Power is obviously not any thing, which is direct- ly addressed to the outward senses. It is not addressed to the sense of sight as colors are; nor to the sense of hearing as sounds are ; nor to the taste ; nor to any other of the out- ward senses. We cannot see it, nor hear it, nor touch it nor taste, it, although it is every where actually diffused; for it is a first truth and undeniably certain, that, wherever there is existence, there is power, either actually in the thing itself or in some way connected with it. If the idea of power is not to be ascribed in its origin to external perception in any of its forms, we must look within for its rise. And in doing this we find ourselves unable to assert any thing more than this, that it is the result, (that is to say it is made known to us by means of it,) of that Origi- nal Suggestion, which has already been referred to as the true source of our idea of liberty. In other words we are so constituted, that, on certain occasions and under certain circumstances, the idea of power naturally and necessarily arises or is suggested within us. This is all, that can be said of its origin, as far as the mind is concerned. *Rejd's Active Powers of the Human Mind, Essay IV= NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. 319 §. 214. Occasions of the origin oj the idea of power. But what are those occasions or circumstances just now spoken of, on which the faculty of Original Suggestion is brought into action, and in connection with which it gives existence and birth to the idea in question? Although on this point our views may perhaps be at va- riance with those of some other writers, the occasions, so far as we are able to judge, appear to be three fold. — (1) All cases of antecedence and sequence in the natural world. We are so constituted, that, in connection with such cases of antecedence and sequence, we are led at a very early pe- riod of life, to frame the proposition and to receive it as an undeniable truth, that there can be no beginning or change of existence without a cause. This proposition involves the idea of efficiency or power. — (2) The control of the will over the muscular action. We are so constituted, that, when- ever we will to put a part of the body in motion, and the motion follows the volition, we have the idea of power. — (3) The control of the will over the other mental powers. With- in certain limits and to a certain extent there seems to be ground for supposing, that the will is capable of exercising a directing control over the mental, as well as over the bodily powers. And whenever we are conscious of such control being exercised, whether it be greater or less, occasion is furnished for the origin of this idea. It is then called forth or suggested. It is proper to add here, that the idea of power, like that of freedom or liberty, is simple, and consequently is not susceptible of definition, although no one can be supposed to be ignorant of what is meant by the term. §. 215. The idea of power involves the reality of power. B ut because the idea of power is undefinable, we are not, 320 NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. therefore, to suppose, that it represents nothing; in other words that power is in itself is a chimsera and non-entity; a mere haseless fiction of the mind, like those shadowy and illusive pictures, which in times of ignorance and supersti- tion are seen written in the air. This would he a great mis- take. It is true that there may be complex ideas of things, as Mr. Locke has correctly maintained, which are chimeri- cal; that is to say, which have nothing corresponding to them in outward objects, or in any thing else, such as the ideas of a hypogriff, dragon, centaur, gold lighter than wa- ter, &c. But this want of correspondence between the idea and the object to which it relates or professes to relate, is never experienced in the case of simple ideas; and it is not at all surprising, that Ave should find this difference in these two classes of our notions. Complex ideas, so far as the combination and arrangement of the subordinate elements is concerned, is the work of man; and it may sometimes hap- pen, therefore, that they are expressive, or rather profess to be so, of what has no real existence. But simple ideas on the other hand, which result necessarily from the action of the mind under given circumstances, may be regarded as tru- ly the work of the great author of our mental nature ; and it would be inconsistent with our ideas of his perfections, particularly his truth, as well as with our own consciousness and experience, to suppose that they ever express any thing other than an unchangeable reality. §. 216. Things exist which are not made known by the senses. Can it be necessary to say, that there are existences, at least that there are realities, (whether they are existences in themselves, or the mere attributes of things, or relations,) which have no outward and visible representation ? We know, that the contrary supposition would not be inconsis- tent with the philosophy of Condillac and Helvetius ; but NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. $21 present appearances, the result of patient and repeated inqui- ries, seem clearly to indicate ,that the philosophical systems of those writers, cannot, in this particular at least, be sustain- ed. It is undoubtedly true,that we do not have a knowledge of Power by means of any direct action on the outward sen- ses; that it has no form and outline, as if it were some material entity; that it is not the subject of any process of material admeasurement; that it is not an object of sight, hearing, or touch. But the leading writers on the mind agpee in assur- ing us, that there are inward sources of knowledge; that there are things and the attributes of things, which are not susceptible of any material or outward representation ; but are made known by an original developement exclusively taking place in the mind itself. And power, whether it be something in itself, or the attribute of something else, is one of this class. It would not be difficult to give instances in illustration, of these statements. Is there no such thing as design or foresight? Is there no such thing as identity, unity, or num- ber, as succession and time and space? Is there no such thing as intelligence or truth, as wrong or rectitude? And yet these are not made known by any direct action on the senses, but by the mind alone; by the creative energy of the spritual principle within us, called into action in the va- rious circumstances incident to its present situation. And it is certain that we have no more knowledge of these, than we have of Power. <§. 217. Of power as an attribute of the human mind. , Without saying any thing further on the existence and nature of power in general, and of the way in which we have a knowledge of it, we now proceed to remark upon power as existing in, and as an attribute of the human mind^ 41 322 NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. There is power somewhere. Is it also in the mind of man ? Does it reside there as something substantive and positive, or is it merely an appearance ? In proof of the position, that power in the strict sense of the term is an attribute of the human mind, we may safely appeal, in the first place, to each one's consciousness. Every one is supposed to know what power is, although, as has been said, it is not susceptible of definition. And every man is conscious, that he possesses this power in himself ; not perhaps in so high a degree as it actually exists in some others, but yet in some degree. He is not conscious, that it exists in him in the form of a separate faculty, analogous to perception or memory ; but that it exists as an attribute of the whole mind, and is diffused, in a greater or less degree, through all its faculties. That is to say, having from the earliest period formed a distinct idea of power and already knowing what it is, he has an original feeling or conviction, that such is the case ; that in every exercise or operation of the mind there is, and must be power. It is a matter upon which, so far as it relates to himself, he does not profess to reason; for the conviction is an original one, approximating to the nature of an intuition; and it is therefore, in his view, neither assailable by argument, nor capable of being sus- tained in that way. Furthermore, the existence of power as an attribute of the human mind is proved by our observation of others. When we carefully consider the wonderful efforts of the hu- man intellect, with what rapidity and consummate skill it embraces and analyzes the most difficult subjects, have we not evidence of power? When we see men controlling their passions,sustaining themselves in meekness and fortitude amid the most cruel assaults, have we not additional evi- dence? When we read of the Republics of antiquity, of the eloquence that shook and swayed the fierce democracy of NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. 323 Athens, and controlled the proud hearts and intellects of Roman senators, and in later times has risen with no less ascendency in the stormy periods of the French and Eng- lish Parliaments, can we believe that these astonishing ef- fects are the results of minds constituted without any infusion of the element of power? Might we not as well turn our eyes to the sun in the heavens, when he throws his bright beams over the mountain tops and the green woods of sum- mer, and say there is no light ? § 218. Further shown by a reference to the Divine Mind. On this subject, (the existence of power as truly an at- tribute of the human mind,) it may not be improper, although it is to be done with suitable humility and circumspection, to reason from the Supreme Being to the creatures he has made. We are informed in the pages of Holy Writ, that man was created in the image of his Maker ; and it cannot be doubted, that the similitude was mental, and not bodily. It was the mind, the spiritual part, that was honoured with bearing the glorious impress of the divine lineaments. It may indeed be said by way of objection, that the alledged similitude between man and his Maker is lim- ited to man's moral nature ; but it should be recollec- ted, that it is impossible entirely to separate man's moral from his intellectual part. As the moral nature is based upon the intellectual, (for there obviously can be no accounta- bility where there are no powers of perceiving and judg- ing,) the existence of the former of course involves and im- plies the existence of the latter. If there be a reality in the distinction between right and wrong, there must be not only feeling and volition, but intelligence ; and we cannot conceive of virtue or vice in connection with the absence of either of them. With these views of the connection exis- ting among all the parts of man's mental nature, the moral, [/ 324 NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. sentient, voluntary, and intellectual, we understand the statement of man's primitive creation in the image of God to mean, that there was really a likeness in kind, however di- verse in degree; and that this similitude extends to all parts of our mental nature, with the exception of what are purely instinctive, or are essentially connected, with our bodily and material organization. Now no one will deny, that power is an attribute of the Divine Mind; and hence, reasoning from the maker to that which is made, from the original and self-existent archetype to the derived and dependent simili- tude, we have good grounds to believe, that power exists positively and substantively in man, as well as the Being who formed him. "If it is granted, says an American wri- ter, that God is an efficient eause ; that in him is energy, activity, which constitutes Him an active agent ; why may not man be endued with the same principle, so as to make him an active agent? His being dependent, and his powers limited, are no objection of any weight against viewing him an active agent. If God can create a dependent, limited be- ing, why can he not endue him with an active, dependent, limited, principle of action ? I see no objection of weight, against this, and of course prefer viewing a moral agent as really having in his heart the same active, energetic prin- ciple, as we suppose God possesses. It is granted this active principle in man, which renders him an agent, is depen- dent and limited So is his being ; yet he is a real being, distinct from God."* This, then, is the view, which we think ourselves amply justified in taking, viz, that the Supreme Being has created men with power; that he has communicated of his own full ness to those, who would have been wanting, without this communication. As the planetary orbs revolve around the * Burton's Metaphysics, Ethics, and Theology Essay XIII. NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. 325 solar fountain of effulgence and attraction, and, although they are entirely distinct, are yet dependent upon it for mo- tion as well as light, in like manner all intellectual and sen- tient beings, in their various orders, from the archangel down to man, are set off from the great Source of all knowl- edge and efficiency; and, although they are created in the image of God and are constantly supported by Him, have yet a distinct existence, a distinct though dependent agency, and revolve in their own appropriate sphere. CHAPTER SECOND. POWER OF THE WILL. §. 219 .Proof of power in the will from the analogy of the mind. But it is not enough to explain the nature of power, and to assert its existence as an -attribute of the mind in gener- al terms, we proceed now to consider its existence in that particular faculty or department of the mind, which is de- nominated the will. Power is not only predicable of the mind in a general way; hut it is predicable of its parts, and particularly and emphatically so of our voluntary nature. The analogy running through our mental constitution fur- nishes some grounds and authority for this remark. Men universally speak, (and they undoubtedly believe they have good reason so to do,) of the power of sensation, of the power of perception, of the power of memory, imagination, reasoning, &c. The structure of all languages, (for they appear to be all alike in this respect,) proves what they think; and we may add, proves what they know on this sub- ject. It is natural for the man who perceives, to say that he has the power of perception; the man,who remembers or rea- sons, asserts without hesitation, that he has the power of re- POWEE OF THE WILL. 3.27 membering or reasoning ; and it is impossible to convince these men, either that these expressions are improperly ap- plied, or that they are nugatory and convey no distinct meaning. But if there is truly a foundation for such ex- pressions, and if there is a propriety and truth in the use of them, is there not equal propriety in speaking of the power of the will? If every other mental action clearly and con- vincingly indicates to us the existence of an innate energy corresponding to such action,it cannot be supposed, that the act of willing alone, which is a preeminent and leading ex- ercise of the mind, exists independently of any actual basis of voluntary energy. The analogy, therefore, of the men- tal constitution, (for we are undoubtedly at liberty to reason from analogy, in this case as well as others,) distinctly leads to the result, that power is appropriate to and is an attri- bute of the will. §. 220. The power of the will restricted and subordinate. But, although the will has power, it is not therefore in- dependent. We have already seen ample evidence of its subjection to law. And in this respect it is on the same footing with the other powers of the mind. There is no exer- cise of memory without something remembered ; no per- ception without an object perceived ; and there are not only objects, which the action of these faculties necessarily has relation to; but there are various other restrictions, (without any impropriety of language we might term them laws,) by which that action is governed. But are we to say on this account that the attribute of power does not belong to the perception, the memory, or the process of reasoning ? If so, we must for like reasons' exclude it from every other mental susceptibility, which is the same as to exclude it from the whole mind ; for the mental susceptibilities are nothing more than the mind itself acting in various ways. 328 POWER OF THE WILL. And a mind without power is not an operative principle, but a principle^ rather an object operated upon ; and is of course destitute of all attractions and worth in itself,and of all moral accountability to anything else. There may be power, therefore, which power is, nevertheless, under direction and control. And accordingly, while we maintain the existence of power in the will,we must not forget its subjection to law ; nor suppose that the one is at all inconsistent with the other. §. 221. Proof oj power in the will from internal experience. That power is predicable of the will, as well as of any other faculty of the mind or of the mind as a whole, is evinced not only by the analogy running through the mental struc- ture, but by other considerations. Among other views to be taken of the subject now before us, may we not, in this inquiry as well as in others, make an appeal to our own in- ternal experience ? In other words, have we not beyond all doubt a testimony within us, a direct and decisive internal evidence of power in the acts of the will ? Do we not feel and know it to be so ? — Let us take a familiar instance as a test of these inquiries. When a person wills to go to a cer- tain place, or wills to do a certain thing, does the volition appear to have been wrought within himself by an extraneous cause ? Does it appear to have been created and placed there without any personal agency and effort ? Or does it rather distinctly and satisfactorily indicate to him an, energy of his own ? Few persona, it is believed, will hesitate as to what answer to give. Our conciousness, therefore, distinctly assures us, (al- though it is beyond all question that the will is circumscrib- and regulated by its appropriate laws,) that within the lim- its constituting its appropriate sphere, its action truly orig- inates in its own power. It wills, because it has the power to will. It acts, because it possesses that energy, which is POWER OF THE WILL. 329 requisite to constitute the basis of action. In the language of one of the characters of the great English dramatist, when pressed for the reasons of a certain course of proceeding, " The cause is in my will ; I will not come." §. 222. Proved from the ability which we have to direct our attention to particular subjects. In one particular at least, our internal experience seems to be clear and decisive, viz. that we are able to direct our attention to some subjects of inquiry in preference to others. It is admitted that we cannot call up a thought or a train of thought by a mere and direct act of volition ; although we have an indirect power in this respect, which is not without its important results. But when various trains of thought are passing through the mind, we are enabled, as it is pre- sumed every one must be conscious, to direct our attention and to fix it firmly upon one thought or one train of thought in preference to another. It is undoubtedly the tendency of association to remove the thought or the train of thought, whatever it is, from the mind ; but the power of the will, where it is decisively exerted, can counteract this tendency, and keep the mind in essentially the same position for a greater or less length of time. And it does not appear what explanation can possibly be given of the fact, that we thus frequently delay upon subjects and revolve them in our con- templation, except on the ground of a real and effective en- ergy of the will. §. 223. Proof of power in the will from observation. Furthermore, the phenomena of human nature, as they come within our constant observation, cannot be explained, except on the supposition,that the will is not the subject of any extraneous operation or power,in such a sense as entirely to 42 330 POWEE OF THE WILL. exclude power or agency of its own. Do we not often see in- stances of persons, in whom vigor of the will is a characteris- tic and predominant trait; and whose character and conduct cannot he explained, except on the ground, that they possess a voluntary energy of their own, and that too in a high de- gree? Men have often been placed in the most trying cir- cumstances, called to endure the pains of imprisonment, and hunger and thirst, and torture and exile and death ; and they have undergone it all with a most astonishing fortitude and calmness, without shedding a tear or uttering a lamentation. Here is something difficult to he explained, unless we take into consideration that innate power, which we assert to he an attribute of the will. Whatever may be said of the fervid sincerity of his reli- gion, or the natural benevolence of his heart, are we able satisfactorily to explain the character and deeds of the illus- trious Howard, except by taking this vieAV? "The energy of his determination, says a judicious and valuable Avriter, was so great, that, if instead of being habitual, it had been shown only for a short time on particular occasions, it would have appeared a vehement impetuosity; but by being unin- termitted, it had an equability of manner, which scarcely ap- peared to exceed the tone of a calm constancy, it was so to- tally the reverse of any thing like turbulence or agitation. It was the calmness of an intensity, kept uniform by the na- ture of the human mind forbidding it to be more, and by the character of the individual forbidding it to be less."* The case of Howard, marked and extraordinary as it is, does not stand alone. Every age of the world and every class of society have their men of this stamp. Extraordina- ry endowments of the will are as necessary to support soci- ety and to meet the exigencies of our situation, as extraordi- nary endowments of intellect. But unfortunately, though *Foster's Essay on Decision of Character. POWER OF THE WILL. 331 they are given in the discretion and wisdom of the great dispenser of all mental - gifts, they are not always wisely and righteously employed. A multitude of instances, of a char- acter both good and evil, will occur to every one; among others, Alexander, Cassar, Regulus, Charles Twelfth, Hanni- bal, Columbus, the Apostle Paul, Cromwell, Nelson, Led- yard, Mungo Park, John Knox, Luther, Whitefield, &c. The language of Ledyard will show the intensity of deter- mination existing in such men. "My distresses have been greater than I have ever owned, or ever ivill own to any man. I have known hunger and nakedness, to the utmost extremity of human suffering; I have known what it is to have food given me as charity to a madman; and I have at times been obliged to shelter myself under the miseries of that character to avoid a heavier calamity. Such evils are terrible to bear, but they never have yet had power to turn me from my purpose. ," §. 224. Of power of the will as exhibited in patience under suffering. We invite the particular attention of the reader to the view of the subject, which is now presented before him. If he will take the trouble to contemplate it steadily, we doubt not it Avill have its due weight. We wish to be un- derstood as distinctly and fully maintaining, on the ground of common observation, that the will has an actual and sub- stantive power; and that it is utterly impossible to explain the phenomena of human nature except by taking this view. Nor do we propose, in support of our positions, to introduce }nerely extraordinary instances of energy of the will; but on the contrary should not hesitate to rest the issue of the inquiry on an appeal to cases, which are of common occur- rence. We have an evidence, (an unobtrusive one perhaps but still worthy of our notice,) of the power of the will in 332 POWER OF THE WLIL. that patience"and submissiveness, which we not unfrequent- ]y witness in the ordinary trials of life. Persons, who have had their sensibilities wounded day after day and hour after hour, have been seen at the same time to wear the smile of cheerfulness ; and so far from uttering complaints and in- dulging a rebellious spirit, they have been uniformly kind to those, who were the causes of their suffering. Others, who have suffered under the approaches of a wasting and insidious disease, have completely succeeded in quieting the emotions within them, and permitted no murmur to arise ; they have even blessed these trying visitations of Providence, and have shed a loveliness, glorious for themselves and cheering to the heart of the spectator, over the chamber of sickness and death. It is not enough to say , that they may have possessed an enlightened understanding or a virtuous heart; nothing but the innate energy of the will, (however it may have been supported by correct views and virtuous princi- ples,) could have silenced and subdued the secret voice of anguish. §. 2£5. Illustration of the subject from the command of temper. The fact, that men are not governed by a fatality impres- sed upon them from an exterior cause, but have an efficien- cy in themselves, may be further illustrated from the control, which they are seen to exercise over their passions in what is called command of temper. Few sayings are more celebra- ted than that of Socrates on a certain occasion to his ser- vant, that he would beat him if he were not angry. Hume, who is entitled to the credit of being a careful observer of human nature, says of Henry IV of England, that "his com- mand of temper was remarkable;" and it is not uncommon to find this trait pointed out by historians and biographers, as one worthy of particular notice. The biographer of our il- lustrious countryman Mr. Jay, says, that" he sought not the POWER OF THE WILL. 333 glory which cometh from man, and the only power of which he was covetous was the command of himself.'''* And this power, although he was obliged to contend with a natural irritability of temper, he exhibited in a very high degree. — But there is another name in American history of yet higher interest to our nation and to mankind. It was not among the least of the excellencies of Washington, great and various as they were, that he possessed a perfect self-control. With an intellect, which, though somewhat slow in its ac- tion, invariably came to a correct result; with a high moral sense, so prompt and pure in its decisions, as to secure the numerous and complicated acts of his life from all moral re- proach, it was nevertheless true, that his passions were naturally excitable and strong. But he fully succeeded in keeping them under admirable government. In the most trying situations, there was a calmness and dignity of coun- tenance and manner, which commanded the deepest respect. Such was the energy of his will, that it kept every thing in its place, and stamped a delightful harmony on his whole character; and being thus able to govern himself, he was ad- mirably fitted to govern this young and unsettled republic. §. 226. Further illustrations of this subject. It would not be difficult to specify other distinguished men both of our own and other countries, who knew how to conciliate the actings of a sensitive and enkindled heart with the coolest circumspection and the most perfect self-com- mand. But this is not necessary, since the trait in question is one daily coming within our notice. It is not uncommon, in almost every village and neighborhood, to observe per- sons of naturally quick feelings, and whose passions are ob- viously violent and are prone to foam and toss about like the waves of the sea, who nevertheless have those passions *Life of John Jay, Vol. I. Chap. 12th. 331 POWER OP THE WILL. under complete control, even in the most trying circumstan- ces. And is it not a duty to exercise this control over the pas- sions ? "He, that ruleth his spirit, says Solomon, is hetter than he that taketh a city." And again, "He, that hath no rule over his own spirit, is like a city that is broken down, and with- out walls." " Be ye angry, says the Apostle, and sin not; let not the sun go down upon your wrath." Here, then is a great practical fact in the philosophy of the mind, and upon which important and solemn duties are based, viz, that the passions are under our control. But where is the power, that controls them? It is not enough to say, that this pow- er of regulation and control is deposited in the understan- ding. It is true that the understanding can suggest various and important reasons, Avhy this control should be exercised; but it cannot of itself render those reasons effective and available. The greatest light in the understanding, and even if it were carried into the region of the affections and the conscience, could never bring this great result to pass without the cooperation of the effective energies of the will. §. 227. Proved from the concealment of the passions on sudden and trying occasions. There are instances, av here the passions are repressed, or at least concealed, for the purpose of forwarding some ulteri- or end, which indicate the existence of power in the will. We might perhaps leave this statement just as it is, to be filled up by the private and personal recollections of the rea- der. But history, which furnishes so many valuable exposi- tions of the passions and the will, is not without its striking instances here. It is mentioned by those writers, who have given an account of Sylla the Roman dictator, as a marked trait in his character, that he was capable of acting the dis- sembler to perfection. He was engaged in forming and ex- POWER OF THE WILL. 3C5 ecuting gigantic plans for the extension of the Roman em- pire, at the same time that he had formed other plans of an entirely different character, and based upon the most dread- ful passions, which he silently and calmly laid up to be exe- cuted at some distant day. One would have thought, that his whole soul, (such was his consummate ability in the management both of his present designs and of those pas- sions, which were afterwards to be indulged,) was exclu- sively taken up with his present business, and possessed no thought or feeling for any thing else. The conspirators against Julius Csesar, after they had ful- ly determined on his assassination, an event which involved either his death or their own and perhaps both, were in the almost daily habit of meeting and transacting business with him ; and yet that wonderful man was utterly unable to de- tect in the language, manner, or looks of the conspirators any evidence or intimations of their atrocious design. Does not this indicate on the part of the conspirators power of will ? Cicero seems to have been excluded from the con- spiracy, chiefly because he was supposed to be wanting in that decision and fortitude of purpose, which was requisite to the occasion. §. 228. Further instances of concealment and repression of the passions. We may go further and say, that people may not only avail themselves of the power of the will to subdue their passions or to conceal them, and that in so doing they prove the existence of power in the will ; but they not unfrequent- ly subdue them to a certain point, letting them run in certain directions and not in others ; or repressing them to a certain degree, and permitting them to rage below that degree. An instance will help to illustrate what we mean. The author of the Recollections of Mirabeau gives an account of 336 POWER OF THE WILL.. a quarrel, which took place between Mirabeau and Claviere, two names, which must be familiar to all, avIio are acquainted with the events of the French Revolution. — "A singular circumstance, which struck me very forcibly, had called this quarrel to my recollection. Mirabeau and Claviere, although beside themselves with rage, maintained, with re- gard to each other's characters, a discretion which surprised me. I trembled every moment lest Claviere should utter some taunts regarding Mirabeau's private conduct, and tax him with meanness in pecuniary matters. But although he had frequently mentioned such things to me, he was too much master of himself to utter them now ; whilst Mirabeau on the other hand, foaming with pride and anger, had still the ad- dress to mingle with his invectives testimonies of esteem, and compliments upon Claviere's talents. Thus they scratch- ed and caressed each other with the same hand." The same writer makes another statement in regard to Mira- beau, which is applicable here. "In the tribune he was im- movable. They who have seen him well know that no agit- ation in the assembly had the least effect upon him, and that he remained master of his temper even under the severest personal attacks . I once recollect to have beard him make a report upon the city of Marseilles. Each sentence was in- terrupted from the cote droit with low abuse ; the words ca- lumniator, liar, assassin, and rascal, were very prodigally lavished upon him. On a sudden he stopped, and with a honeyed accent, as if what he had stated had been most fa- vorably received, "I am waiting, gentleman," said he, "until the fine compliments you are paying me, are exhausted." §. 229. Illustrated from the prosecution of some general plan. We find further illustration and proof of that energy which is appropriate to the will, in instances where individ- uals adopt and^pursue for a length of time some general plan. Power of the will. 337 Not uufrequenfly they fix upon an object, which involves either their interest or their duty, and prosecute it with a perseverance and resolution, which is truly astonishing. Nor is this state of things limited to those who have been elevated by rank, or have had the advantages of learning. It is often the case, that we see this fixedness of purpose, this unalterable resolution, among those who have been greatly depressed by poverty, and who are ignorant as well as poor. An instance, furnished by this class of society, may not be wholly unacceptable to the reader. Not long since there was an account published in the Newspapers of a poor Irish girl, who came over to this country from Queen's County in Ireland for the purpose of making some provision, and obtaining a situation of greater comfort, for her depressed and suffering family. Alone and unprotected, she left the home of her father with only ten dollars in mon- ey; travelled on foot about fifty miles to the city of Dublin; succeeded in obtaining a passage on board a vessel bound for Quebec, and ultimately found her way into the United States. It is enough to add, although she had to encounter much trial and suffering, the smiles of a kind Providence re- warded her filial piety, and furnished the means which soon brought to her arms the beloved family she had left behind. Now here is a case in common life, without any artificial aids and excitement which can be supposed to have sustain- ed it; and if we could open and expose to the view of the world the records of the suffering and virtuous poor, we should undoubtedly find many like it. "In the obscurity of retirement, says the author of Lacon, amid the squalid povertj^ and revolting privations of a cottage, it has often been my lot to witness scenes of magnanimity and self-deni- al, as much beyond the belief, as the practice of the great; an heroism borrowing no support, either from the gaze of 338 POWER OF THE WILL. the many or the admiration of the feWj yet flourishing amid ruins, and on the confines of the grave; a spectacle as stu- pendous in the moral world, as the falls of Niagara, in the natural ; and, like that mighty cataract, doomed to display its grandeur, only where there are no eyes to appreciate its magnificence." And can we explain this greatness of soul, this fixedness of purpose, this indomitable resolution, which is displayed in every condition of society, in humble as well as in elevated life, consistently with the supposition that the will has no power. But there are other facts of a higher character and a more general interest, as they involve the welfare not only of individuals and families, but of whole classes of men. They are too numerous to be mentioned here; but they are recorded, and will long continue to be so, in the faithful register of grateful hearts. Are there not many individuals, who, like the benevolent Clarkson, have fixed upon some plan of good-will to men, embracing a great variety and de- gree of effort, and have pursued it amid every form of trial and opposition for years and tens of years? The individual just referred to proposed the simple object of the Abolition of the Slave Trade. To this one object he consecrated his life and all his powers. He permitted no opposition to di- vert him from his purpose. But amid great apathy of the public mind and great opposition on the part of those who were personally interested in his defeat; amid the most ar- duous labors, attended with a thousand discouragements, and protracted for many years; in rebuke and sickness and sor- row, this one object was the star that guided him on, the light that sustained him, and which he followed without giv- ing way to his trials or relaxing in the least from his efforts, until it was secured. POWER OF THE WILL. 339 §. 230. The subject illustrated from the course of the first settlers of New England. The course of the first settlers of New England is an in- stance favourable for the illustration of the subject before us. Their simple object was to find a residence somewhere, where they could live in the full and free exercise and en- joyment of their religion. And this was an object, which under the circumstances of the case was not to be carried into effect without great firmness and perseverance. They left behind them in their native country a thousand objects which the world holds most dear; despised and - out -cast, they came to these inhospitable shores, in sorrow and weak- ness and poverty ; they suffered from the want of provis- ions, from the prevalence of wasting sickness, from the storms and cold of winter, and from the watchful jealousy and hostility of the savage tribes. Though sincerely and ar- dently religious, it cannot be denied that they had their sea- sons of discouragement; and often feared, and often doubt- ed. But when the understanding was obscured and the heart was fainting, when all without was darkness and the lights within burnt dimly, when even religious faith, that principle of action more sacred as well as more powerful than all others, grew sickly and perplexed, the high pur- pose, which they had once deliberately and prayerfully for- med, remained unchanged and unshaken ; through succes- sive years of suffering and sorrow they never permitted themselves to cast a repentant and lingering look behind; with a countenance unmoved and a determination unalterable they stood as it were amid the billows, till the storm ceased, and the sun of their deliverance arose. <§. 231. Illustrated by the jortitude exhibited by Savages. We might go on multiplying illustrations of this sub- 340 POWER Or THE WILL. ject almost without number; drawn too from every class of men, and from every condition of society, savage as well as civilized. It might perhaps be said with some appearance of plausibility, that the case of the first settlers of New Eng- land is an exempt one; that they were sustained, (at least such was the case with their leaders,) by the combined ad- vantages of civilization, education, and religion. But mul- titudes of other men, of whom this could not be said, have ex- hibited the same unshaken energy of the will. Look yon- der into that dark and boundless forest; behold, beneath the light of the uncertain and shuddering moon, the fire kindled, which is destined to consume the victim taken in war ; see him fastened to the stake, his flesh slowly consumed, and, as it is burning, torn piece-meal from his blackened bones. What inexpressible suffering! And yet this dark son of the forest, this poor ignorant child of nature betrays no weakness of purpose, sheds no tear, utters no exclamation of impatience, does not even move a muscle. His thoughts are upon his distant wigAvam, upon his wife and children, upon the glory of his forefathers, upon the good name of his tribe of the Jakes and the mountains, and upon that far land unseen, beyond the cloud-topt hill, "And thinks, admitted to that equal sky " His faithful dog shall bear him company. Here are the facts, which are presented before us ; not all indeed, which can be brought forward, and perhaps they are not those which are best adapted to our purpose. But such as they are, they are undeniable. They are inscribed, on every page of the history of the human race. And we may challenge philosophy or anything else, satisfactorily to explain them, except jon the ground of the innate energy, not merely of the mind as a whole, but of the voluntary fac- ulty in particular. CHAPTER THIRD. SELF-DETERMINING POWER OF THE WILL. §. 232. General remarks on a self-determining poicer. But admitting all that has been said, and freely granting that there is a true and substantive power in the will, the inquiry may still remain, what is the nature of this power ? On this particular topic Ave take the liberty to refer the rea- der to the remarks which have already been made on the nature of power, considered as applicable to and as an at- tribute of the mind in general. Those remarks are not less applicable to the parts of the mind, than they are to the mind considered as a whole. They do not appear, hoAvever,* to reach one question, Avhich has been the subject of much inquiry and interest, viz, the self-determining poiuer of the will, as it is termed. This question, therefore, is entitled to a brief notice. §. 233 . Of a self-determining power of the mind. In endeavouring to answer the inquiry, whether the will has a self-determining power, we remark, in the first place, that we must attend carefully to the import of the terms. If, for instance, by the self-determining power of the -will 342 SELF-DETERMINING be meant the self determining power of the mind, consider- ed as a whole, we may grant that there is such a power un- der the circumstances, in which we actually exist. Under these circumstances it is unavoidable, that the understanding or intellect should be more or less developed. Thought is necessarily incident to the nature of the mind, when objects of thought are brought within its reach. And as in the cir- cumstances in which we are placed, such objects exist all around it, the intellect or understanding always expands and grasps them; and we may add that it expands and makes them the subject of knowledge by its own power. The mind is so constituted, that the developement of the intellect is always followed by the expansion and exercise, in a greater or less degree, of the sensibilities; that is to say, of the de- sires, emotions, and feelings of moral obligation. And in this state of things we have an adequate and ample basis for the action of the will. So that we may undoubtedly admit, and may assert with entire truth, that the mind, under the cir- cumstances in which we are placed, possesses what may be called, (although there is certainly no peculiar felicity in the expression,) a self- determining power. It perceives, and it feels, and it wills of itself . In each case there is power, sub- ject, however, as we should always keep in mind, to condi- tions. Having the power to will, it wills, because it feels ; having the power to feel, it feels,, because it perceives ; and having the power to perceive, it perceives, because objects of perception are involved in the circumstances in which it is placed. Under these circumstances, therefore, the mind acts of itself or has a self-determining power. The antecedence of feelings, or in other words of mo- tives, constitutes the condition of volitions; and the antece- dence of perceptions or intellections constitutes the condi- tion of feelings; and the antecedence, (that is to say, the ex- istence and presence,) of objects of perception constitutes POWER OF THE WILL. 313 the condition of perceptions. But these conditions or inci- dents to the mind's action are not withholden, but are alrea- dy given; and the field is fully open for the exercise of all those powers it possesses. §. 234. Of a self-determining power of the will. In the second place, if, by the phrase self-determining power of the will, he merely meant that the will itself, that distinct susceptibility of the mind which we thus denomi- inate, has power, we grant that it is so. — We have already seen, that the mind, considered as a whole, has power. In this sense, as well as in others, the mind is created in the image of God. And wherever else that power may be lodg- ed, it has its residence peculiarly in the mental susceptibili- ty, which we denominate the will. That the will, therefore, has of itself to a certain extent, and within the limits and un- der the conditions which its Maker has assigned to it, the capability of movement or action; in other words, that it does of itself act, arbitrate, determine, or decide in the cir- cumstances appropriate to its action, we do not deny; but on the contrary admit and affirm it to be so. So far it is not necessary to contend. §. 235. Of such a self-determining power of the mil as involves the dependence of the present volition on a former one. But if, (as is sometimes understood by those expressions,) by the phrase self-determining power of the will, is meant a power, in virtue of which the will acts in order to determine its own action, then we may confidently assert, that the proposition, which alleges the existence of such self-deter- mining power, involves what is obviously contradictory and absurd. The reader is requested to notice the manner, in which the terms in question are understood by us in the re- marks, which are now to be made. We understand the on- 344 SELF-DETERMINING ]y remaining meaning of the phrase, self-determining pow- er of the will, to be this, viz. that in virtue of the will's power every volition is preceded by another well-defined act of the will, and in such a way that such volition could not have existed without the preceding act; in other words, that the will, in the exercise or by the action of its self-deter- mining power, causes or brings to pass the voluntary state of the mind or volition ; a form of expression, which evi- dently and necessarily implies an act of the will, antecedent to volition. — This doctrine, so far as we are able to form a judg- ment of it, seems to be in itself exceedingly absurd and even inconceivable. If every volition is based upon a preceding act of the will as the condition of its existence, may we not with propriety and with pertinence ask, what causes this preceding act? And we must be told again, (for we know of no other possible answer,) it is the will's self-determin- ing power ; an explanation which obviously implies an act existing anterior to the before-mentioned antecedent act. And thus on this system, we should be obliged to go on from one step to another, from the volition which is the im- mediate antecedent of the outward action to another voli- tion which is the antecedent and the cause of that, and then again to another still antecedent volition; and so on with- out end. A self-determining power, therefore, in the sense which we now suppose to be contended for, implies a per- petual going round and round, a movement in a circle with- out any end. So far from giving power to the will in any special and extraordinary sense, the doctrine in question deprives it of all power; it makes it a mere automaton, with a mechanism indeed, capable of generating a series of per- petual motions; but which motious have no perceptible, nor even conceivable beginning or termination. POWER OF THE WILL. 345 §. 236. Opinions of President Edwards on this subject. Upon this particular view of the subject now before us,we take the liberty of appealing to the statements of President Edwards; and we do not know, that any thing can profitably be added to what he has said. We have already in the pre- ceding section given the substance of some of his remarks, but the reader is entitled to his own words. "If the will determines the will, then choice orders and determines the choice; and acts of choice are subject to the decision, and follow the conduct of other acts of choice. And therefore if the will determines all its own free acts, then every free act of choice is determined by a preceding act of choice choosing that act. And if that preceding act of the will or choice be also a free act, then by these principles, in this act too, the will is self-determined: that is, this, in like manner, is an act that the soul voluntarily chooses ; or which is the same thing, it is an act determined still by a preceding act of the will, choosing that. And the like may again be obser- ved of the last mentioned act. Which brings us directly to a contradiction: for it supposes an act of the will prece- ding the first act in the whole train, directing and determin- ing the rest; or a free act of the will, before the first free act ol the will."* ♦Edward's Inquiry into the Will, Pt. n, §. 1. 4^ 44 CHAPTER FOURTH. DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. §. 237. Differences in voluntary power seldom noticed. There is one aspect, iu which this subject remains to be contemplated, which may tend to throw some light on what has already been stated under the general head of Power of the Will; we refer to bifferences of voluntary power. This is a view of the human mind, which has seldom, owing perhaps to erroneous or indistinct views on the whole sub- ject of mental power, received that attention to which it ap- pears to be entitled. It is no uncommon thing to hear re- marks made upon differences of strength in the passions of men, or in their faculties of perception and reasoning, but it is exceedingly seldom, that we notice any thing said in ex- planation of differences in the capability of the will. But if there is truly a power, an original and substantive effi- ciency, lodged in the will, it is certainly a natural presump- tion, that we should find degrees and diversities in this power, not less than in any other ability of the mind. And facts, which are constantly presented to our notice^show this to be the case. Differences op voluntary power. 347 §. 238. Remarks on constitutional weakness of the will. If we will take the trouble to examine the characters of men, as we find them developed more or less in the pursuits of life, we shall not fail to find some, who exhibit, not occasionally merely but as a general thing and as a perma- nent trait of mind, a feebleness of resolution, a sort of va- cillancy, a continual oscillation, if one may be allowed the expression, between one thing and another. No argu- ments, no motives, no considerations of interest, duty, or glory are able permanently to countervail and prop up this inherent weakness. They may indeed sustain it for a time; the imbecillity of purpose, which marks the history of these persons, may not always be discoverable in the ordinary circumstances of life, especially when the will is supported by considerations suitable to give it strength; but in the onset of perilous circumstances, in the close pressure of por- tentous danger, in sudden and fearful emergencies of any kind whatever, instead of standing erect and immoveable, they are overwhelmed and driven away, " like the heath in the desert." And if this statement is correct, it certainly presents an important aspect in the developements of human nature. We do not gather grapes of thorns, nor figs of thistles; we do not expect the blind to see, the lame to walk erect, or the deaf to hear; we do not feel at liberty to require of a man, whose intellect is obviously incompetent to the task of combining more than half a dozen propositions, the pro- duction of a Spirit of Laws, a Principia,or Mecanique Celes- te; and it would be almost as unreasonable, however useful they may be in other situations more adapted to their pecu- liarities of mental organization, to expect from such persons p. course of perseverance, fortitude, and daring. If no one 348 DIFFERENCES OF is answerable for a greater number of talents than are given him, and if in the case of particular individuals the Almighty dispenser of mental gifts has seen fit to assign those talents to the intellect rather than the will, the requisition should be made, not only in conformity with the amount which has been given, but with reference also to the place of deposit. We may impose upon such persons a heavy burden of thought; but must be less exorbitant in our requisitions on their resolves and action in those difficult and pressing emer- gencies, which obviously require the interposition of men of a different stamp. §. 239. Of comparative or relative weakness of the will. There is an apparent, and to all practical purposes, an ac- tual weakness of the will, which, when we fully consider its nature, may properly be termed comparative or relative. We may explain it thus. The individual is not wanting in voluntary decision and energy, if the will be considered in itself and disconnected from other parts of the mental constitution. So far from this, it may perhaps be said with truth, that voluntary energy is naturally a leading trait and characteristic of the persons now referred to. And yet the will does not fully perform the office of a controlling power; it does not act up to the standard of its own capa- bilities ; the individual is often vascillating in his conduct, even in those cases where he acts with vigor; so much so, that, even with great confidence in his good intentions, we do not place full reliance on his future conduct. And the cause is to be attributed not so much, as has been remarked, to any weakness in the will, in itself considered, as to the want of proportion between that and other parts of the mind. In other words, the passions have become predominant; an inflammatory violence has been infused into them by nature or by accidental circumstances; and the will, whatever may VOLUNTARY POWER. 349 have been its original vigour, has become subordinate in its influence. -Have we not an illustration of these statements in the life of the Scottish poet Burns? It is undeniable, that he naturally possessed more vigour of purpose, more energy of resolve than many other persons; but such was the inor- dinate intensity of his passions, that the power of his will was relatively weak; it could not withstand and control those internal tempests, to which he was subject. §. 240. Instances of want of energy of the will. Having made these general statements concerning weak- ness or inefficiency of the will, (both that which is original or natural, and that which is relative and depends upon the inordinate strength of some parts of our sentient or emotive nature,) we now proceed to give some further instances of that want of voluntary energy which has been spoken of. Do we not often discover a defect of this kind in men in public life? How many instances are recorded in history, of men, who have been thrown upon the stormy ocean of poli- tics, fitted with every capability for such a situation with the exception of voluntary energy; but who, burdened with this single defect, have at last gone down, and been over- whelmed in the billows! Was not the preeminent mind of Tully, capable as it was of penetrating all the mazes of phi- losophy and of embracing all the heights and depths of civil and public law, greatly wanting in decision, in energy, in the firm and unshaken resolve? Although unspeakably in the advance in other respects, would it not in this particu- lar suffer in comparison with the energetic purpose of Bru- tus and the Caesars ? There is a name of no small note in English history, which is naturally brought to recollection in connection with these views, as an instance of versatility founded not so much upon incapacity of the understanding, as upon imbecility and changeableness of the will. We 350 DIFFERENCES OF refer to the Duke of Buckingham, who figured so conspicu- ously in the reign of Charles II, and whom the pen of Dry- den has rendered so celebrated under the feigned name of Zimri. " Some of their chiefs were princes of the land, •' In the first rank of these did Zimri stand ; " A man so various that he seemed to be " Not one, but all mankind's epitome ; " Stiffin opinions, always in the wrong ; " Was every thing by starts, and nothing long ; " But, in the course of one revolving moon, "Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon. Some of the prominent leaders in the French Revolution, that remarkable period of political tempest, showed them- selves unequal to the occasion, and were overwhelmed in the convulsions which they contributed to arouse, but were unable to control. Were not the ministers Necker and Ro- land, whose relations to that memorable event ar6 too well known to require a recital, instances and proofs of this re- mark? Of Claviere also, one of the associates of Roland, it was remarked by Mirabeau, who was intimately acquainted with him, that " he was a man in head, and a child in heart; that he always wanted a regulator; and that left to himself, he never ceased to vary." Of De Graves, the successor of Narbonne, and who was required, in consequence of his sit- uation and age, to furnish the list of the Roland ministry, it is said by a writer already repeatedly referred to, that " no man was less qualified to take a part in a stormy administration. He was an honest man, and his heart was good ; he was a stran- ger to all party feeling, but was weak both in body and mind; he was not deficient in acquirements and laboured hard ; but he wanted energy of character and a firm will of his own."* — The )mere possession of intellectual power is not enongh to fit a *Dumont's Recollections of Mirabeau, Chaps. 15, 19. VOLUNTARY POWER. 351 person to take a leading part in the government of a nation; but it is necessary that he should add to distinguished pow- ers of perception and reasoning a corresponding energy of the will. How many, in consequence of not possessing powers of the will commensurate with those of the under- standing, have become giddj'- on the pinnacle of their eleva- tion, and have arisen only to fall! §. 241 . Remarks on great strength of the will. But there are instances of a different kind from those which have just been mentioned ; instances, so far from weakness, that we clearly discover in them remarkable pow- er of the will. It cannot be doubted, that, among the vari- ous elements, which constitute whatever is great and admi- rable in man, we find one here, viz, in marked decision and vigour of the will. If, in some cases, the will seems hardly to have an existence; in others it exhibits a transcendent de- gree of energy. There have been men, who, in danger and suffering, have shown a vigour, that was calculated to ex- cite the strongest emotions; who have been inflexible, while others have been changed with every varying breeze ; and have possessed themselves in stability and calmness, while many around them have been shaken in their resolutions, and disquieted with fears. Of this marked decision and en- ergy of the will, we now proceed to give some illustrations. §. 242. Energy of the will as displayed under bodily suffering. When occupied with the general subject of the power of the will, we had occasion to make the remark, that the pa- tience, which was not unfrequently exhibited in circumstan- ces of bodily suffering, indicated the existence of such pow- er in a greater or less degree. We might with propriety appeal to instances of the same kind in order to show, with what varieties of intensity the voluntary power is dispensed 352 DIFFERENCES OF to different individuals. It is often said, however, when we refer to cases of this kind, that men will calmly endure al- most any thing when they cannot help it. But in answer to this suggestion it is enough to say, that there are cases where men suffer hy their own act, and their own choice ; and not merely in a slight manner, hut in the highest degree. — Plutarch relates an incident in the life of the celebrated Marius, which will tend to show what we mean. This extra- ordinary man had both his legs covered with wens, and being troubled with the deformity, he determined to put himself into the hands of a surgeon. Confident in his own energy of mind, he would not be bound, but stretched out one of his legs to the knife ; and without a motion or groan, bore the inexpressible pain of the operation in silence and with a settled countenance. The story of Mutius Scaevola also shows us what astonishing powers of will our Maker has seen fit to dispense to some persons. When required by Porsena to explain certain intimations . of danger which he had obscurely thrown out, and being threatened with ex- treme suffering in case of a refusal, he calmly thrust his right hand into a fire, which had been kindled for the pur- pose of a sacrifice, and steadily held it there burning in the flames, for' the sole purpose of giving Porsena to understand, that he was not a person to be influenced by fear, or intimi- dated by suffering. Is not this to be regarded as a deci- sive and remarkable instance of voluntary energy; showing most clearly, that, while power is truly and emphatically ap- propriate to the will, it does not exist in all persons in an equal degree, but is conferred more richly on some than on others ? There is a similar instance in the life of Archbishop Cranmer. In an unguarded and unhappy hour he had sub- scribed to doctrines which he did not believe; an act, which he afterwards deeply repented of as the greatest miscarriage VOLUNTAEY POWER. 353 of his life. And when he was subsequently led to the stake, he stretched out the hand which had been the instrument in this false and discreditable subscription, and, without be- traying, either by his countenance or motions, the .least sign of weakness or even of feeling, (such are the very words of the historian,) he held it in the flames, till it was entirely consumed. §. 243. Energy oj the will as shown in imminent danger. Diversities in the strength and energy of the voluntary faculty are clearly seen in all cases of imminent danger, particularly danger of death. The fear of death is as natur- al to man as the love of life; and but few men can be sud- denly exposed to death, especially if it appear to be inevita- ble, without experiencing a shrinking back from it. We find some persons, however, who have such energy of purpose, such remarkable decision' and firmness, that they meet it, not merely as it comes in the milder arrangements of Providence, but in its most horrid and violent forms, with entire calm- ness, and even seek it as something desirable. The Roman Decii voluntarily devoted themselves to death for their country. Regulus, when he had been made a prisoner by the Carthaginians, of his own accord took a course, safe and honourable as he supposed for Rome ; but which he clearly foresaw, (and the result even more than realized his anticipa- tions,) would be attended with extreme cruelty & destruction to himself. In the dreadful wars of modern times, which have carried sorrow and desolation over Europe and America, how often have we heard of deeds and enterprises of valour, which have excited our admiration in view of the wonderful energy of purpose they have displayed, at the same time that we deeply lamented the occasions that called them forth. In the war of La Vendee the celebrated Kleber called an officer 45 354 DIFFERENCES OF to him, for whom he had a particular esteem and friendship. " Take, said he to his military friend, a company of grena- diers; stop the enemy before that ravine; you will be kil- led, but you will save your comrades." I shall do it, General, replied the officer, with as much calmness as if he had been required to perform a simple military evolution. He fulfilled his word, and arrested the enemy's progress; but perished in the achievement. But it is not the soldier alone, who has exhibited this en- ergy of purpose amid the imminent danger of death. Not unfrequently have the philanthropist and the Christian Mis- sionary placed themselves in situations, where extreme suf- fering and even death itself seemed to be inevitable. They have not only had the resolution to leave their country and home; but to plunge into dungeons, to walk on their errands of mercy amid pestilential atmospheres, to wander through pathless forests and over burning sands and precipitous mountains, to endure the privations of cold and hunger and na- kedness, and to encounter the ferocious Savage with his wea- pons of destruction extended against them. How many could say with the Apostle Paul,that first and most devoted of mis- sionaries, " in journeyings often, in perils of waters, in per- ils of robbers, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea! " Unaltera- bly fixed in their purpose amid present suffering and the sure anticipation of future and greater woes, they have of- ten exhibited a wonderful heroism, not indeed in the cause of war and its attendant devastations, but for the sake of renovating the sensibilities, and soothing the countless mis- eries of their fellow-men. In the boundless forests of North and South America, on the shores of the Nile and the Gan- ges and on the banks of solitary streams unknown to civil- ized man, in frozen Greenland and the burning sands of Af- rica, in the distant islands of the sea, amid the wretched VOLUNTARY POWER. 355 hamlets of the dreary Alps, wherever there is ignorance to be enlightened or sorrow to be soothed or souls to be saved, their astonishing labours of benevolence have been witnes- sed, and their names will be held in veneration down to the latest ages. §. 244. Energy of the will as shown in martyrdoms. Diversities in the power of the will are quickly discov- ered, not only in the situations just referred to, of exposure to imminent danger, but in all extraordinary and trying sit- uations whatever. Whenever we open a book of war, of famine, of pestilence, or of martyrdoms, and read in it the conduct of men under these terrible inflictions, we open and read a new and most interesting chapter in the philosophy of the human mind. We venture to say, that not only the history of civil convulsions and wars and revolutions, but also such a Book as Fox's History of Christian Martyrdom will afford matter of comment and reference to the mental philosopher. If, without such a work as the last mentioned, we should have known less of the depravity and dreadful cruelty of human nature, we should also have known less of its truth, its honour, its submission, and its immense resources of en- durance and energy. It is impossible for a person to read the history of Martyrdoms, without entertaining a deep re- gard and admiration for the sufferers, founded not rnerely upon considerations connected with the cause of their suffer- ings and death; but also upon the moral sublimity of their fixed and immutable resolve. On what principle can it be explained, that men and even delicate and feeble women, have endured the rack, the screw, the dungeon, and the fire without complaint and even with triumph? It may indeed be said, and said with truth, that they were supported by religious faith and hope. But can it be said with truth of fhose,who were not only thus supported but were thus suppor- 356 DIFFERENCES OF ted in an equal degree, that they all died with equal calm- ness and fortitude? Although none of those holy sufferers doubted, that God would be their portion at last and would bestow upon them the crown and the mansions of the blest, yet could they all smile and. rejoice amid the flames ? They were all submissive and patient; but could they all as- sume the aspect of utter indifference to their tortures? We may rest assured, that the cases of marked and decisive triumph over bodily suffering were for the most part those of persons, who possessed an original and innate energy of the will. It is true that they were enabled to endure a great increase of suffering with the aids of religion; but they were, for the most part, persons, who could have firm- ly and triumphantly endured much suffering without it. It was this combination of original energy of character with the blessed aids of religion, that supported Jerome of Prague, who sung hymns as he went to the place of execution, em- braced the stake with cheerfulness, and when the execution- er went behind him to set fire to the faggots, exclaimed, "Come here and kindle it before my eyes; for had I been afraid of it, I had not come here, having had so many oppor- tunities to escape." §. 245. Subject illustrated from two classes of public speakers. In this connection we are naturally led to make the re- mark, that there are not only some situations, but some arts and callings in life, in which a high degree of decision and energy of the will is absolutely necessary to success. Among other arts, (we do not propose to mention all of them where this trait seems to be especially requisite,) a high degree of voluntary energy is exceedingly important to that of the orator. And we are here furnished with grounds of distinction and comparison between men of elo- quence. There are some public speakers, who greatly fail VOLUNTARY POWER. 357 inefficiency of the will. Possessed of intellectual powers, that command the admiration of all, they are still acknowl- edged to have a weak point here. When they arise to speak in public, they have a clear perception of the subject of de- bate; and if there are any exciting elements in it, their passions are enkindled, and the texture of their argument is rendered heated and radiant with the flame. The strong workings of the sensibilities are seen in the agitated nerves, the violent gesticulation, and the contortions of the muscles. And we might expect great results, were it not that the presiding power of the will, upon which under such circum- stances every thing depends, is not equal to the occasion. The voluntary power staggers upon its throne. They lose the control of themselves; so that the mind, freighted as it is with thought and argument, is violently driven about, like a ship caught in a whirlwind. But there are other public speakers, who combine a high degree of intellectual ability with a no less signal energy of the will. On the occasions of public debate, however mo- mentous, they arise with perfect calmness. The class of persons, whom we now have in view, are not without pas- sion. On the contrary, the passions exist in a decided de- gree, and are capable of being aroused, and of being impreg- nated with tremendous energy. But under no circumstances do they permit the passions to be so aroused as to reject and annul the supervision and control of the higher power of the will. They at times permit them to operate, so far as may be necessary to infuse vitality and vigour into the intel- lect; but always hold them, even in their highest exercises, amenable to the effective superintendence of volition. Accord- ingly when they consider it as suiting their purpose, they let them loose, and at once their voice and all the other methods of oratorical communication become the indices and exposi- 358 DIFFERENCES OF tors of the tempest that is raging within. If it suits their purpose better, they suddenly call to their aid the suprema- cy of the voluntary power; all outward agitation ceases ; a calm succeeds to the tempest; there is nothing perceptible but quiet dignity and unruffled self-possession; the passions, rebuked and quelled by a higher authority, retire into the secret recesses of the soul; " Imperio premit, ac vinclis et carcere frrenat." §. 246. Power of the willrequisite in the military and other arts. There are other situations and callings in life, in which power of the will is an essential requisite to success. This is particularly true of the military life, although it is painful even to speak of such an art or calling among men. There never was a great commander, who had not great energy of volition. It is not to be supposed, because a man stands unmoved and calm in the day of battle, even in its most ter- rible onsets, that he is naturally destitute either of fear, or of the love of life. If this is sometimes the case, it is cer- tainly not always so. And where such is undoubtedly the fact, it is not to be regarded as evidence of greatness, but rather of obtuseness and hebetude of character. That sort of courage, which consists in mere dullness and immo- bility of feeling, may answer well enough for a common soldier; but the trait of a great commander, in addition to great intellectual power, is energy of the will, or what we more commonly express by the term self-command. He keeps not only his fears, but his hopes also in subjection; and the imperturbable calmness he discovers is not to be regarded as a proof of the absence of fear or hope or joy or sorrow or anger, but merely as an indication, that he keeps those emo- tions and passions under complete control. Similar remarks will apply to those, who are exposed to VOLUNTARY POWER. 359 the dangers and perplexities of a sea-faring life; particular- ly such as are sent out on voyages of exploration and dis- covery. If a high degree of energy of the will is essential to the character of men, who are required to fill leading mil- itary stations, it is not less essential to those who, like Co- lumbus and De Gama and Cooke and La Perouse are des- tined to discover and explore new worlds. And hence, when persons are to be selected for such expeditions, the inquiry with their employers always is, not merely is he a man of intellect and of education, but is he a man of decision and firmness? Can he stand unmoved and self-possessed in trying and unexpected situations? Is .he able with entire and manifest coolness, to meet danger, and pain, and t even death itself? §. 247. Energy of the will requisite in the men of revolutions. A higher degree of voluntary power, than is allotted to the great mass of mankind, seems to be requisite in those, who a-re destined to take a leading part in those great moral, religious, and political revolutions, which have from time to time agitated the face of the world. It is no easy task to change the opinions of men, to check and subdue vices which have become prevalent, or to give a new aspect and impulse to religion and liberty. The men, who take a lead in these movements, are in general men of decision and firm- ness ; no others would answer the purpose. If the gentle spirit of Melancthon had been placed in the precise position occupied by Luther, would the great event of the Protestant Reformation have been urged forward with the same impe- tus, and to the same issues? When society becomes great- ly unsettled either in its religious or political aspects, when there is a heaving and tossing to and fro, a removal of the old landmarks, and a breaking up of the old foundations, then it is, that men, not merely of intellect, but of decision and 360 DIFFERENCES OF energy, (sagacious , cool, decided, persevering, resolute,) find their way upward to the summit of the conflicting ele- ments, and subject them to their guidance. Such is the nat- ural course of things; such men are needed and no others are capable of taking their place; and they become almost of necessity the advisers and leaders in the nascent order of so- ciety. The prominent leaders, therefore, in every great re- ligious or political revolution will be found to illustrate the fact, that there are original and marked differences in the degree of power, which is appropriate to the will. Look at the men who presided at the events of the great English Revolution of 1640, particularly the Puritans, men of the stamp of the Vanes, Hampdens, and Fleetwoods; who, in embarking in the convulsions of that stormy period, had a twofold object in view, the security of political liberty, and the attainment of religious freedom! Were they weak men? Were they men wanting in fortitude? Were they uncertain and flexible, vacillating and double-minded? History gives an emphatic answer to these questions. It informs us., that they entered into the contest for the great objects just now referred to, with a resolution which nothing could shake, with an immutability of purpose resembling the decrees of unalterable destiny. They struck for liberty and religion, and they struck not thrice merely, but as the prophet of old would have had them; smiting many times, and smiting fierce- ly, till Syria was consumed. They broke in pieces the throne of England; they trampled under foot her ancient and haughty aristocracy; they erected the standard of reli- gious liberty, which has waved ever since, and has scatter- ed its healing light over distant lands ; and by their wisdom and energy they not only overthrew the enemies of freedom at home, but made the name of their country honoured and terrible throughout the earth. They seem to have entirely subjected their passions to their purposes, and to have pres- VOLUNTARY POWER. $61 sed all the exciting and inflammable elements of their nature into the service of their fixed and immutable wills. In the prosecution of their memorable achievements, "Of which all Europe talk'd from side to side," they acted under the the two-fold pressure of motives drawn from heaven and earth ; they felt as if they were con- tending for principles which were valuable to all mankind, and as if all mankind were witnesses of the coutest; at the same time that they beheld on every side, in the quickened eye of. their faith, the attendant angels eagerly bending over them, who were soon to transfer to the imperishable records on high the story of their victory and reward, or of their defeat and degradation. All these things imparted addi- tional fixedness and intensity to their purposes. " Death had lost its terrors, and pleasure its charms. They had their smiles and their tears, their raptures and their sorrows, but not for the things of this world. Enthusiasm had made them Stoics, had cleared their minds from every vulgar passion and prejudice, and raised them above the influence of danger and corruption. It sometimes might lead them to pursue unwise ends, but never to choose unwise means. They went through the world like Sir Artegale's man Talus with his flail, crushing and trampling down oppressors, mingling with human beings, but having neither part nor lot in hu- man infirmities; insensible to fatigue, to pleasure, and to pain; not to be pierced by any weapon, not to be withstood by any barrier."* §. 243. Practical application of these views. The statements and reasonings of this and the preceding chapters in this Part of the Treatise seem to us satisfactori- ly to show, that power, in the strict and real sense of the *Edinburgh Review, Aug. 1825, Art. Milton. 46 362 DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. term, is an attribute of the mind as a whole; that it is truly an attribute of the will also; and that as an attribute of the will it exists in different degrees in different individuals. And it is proper to add here, th,at these views admit of a . practical application, from which no person whatever ought to consider himself exempt. We are too apt to estimate and limit the degree of our accountability by the amount of our intellectual powers. But it cannot he doubted, that this is a ground of estimate too restricted. We are to inquire also, whether our Maker has not seen fit to give us a large share of natural fortitude and decision ? Whether he has not en- dued us Avith powers of the will, which under a suitable direction might be available for our own good and that of others ? And if we find it to be so, we may be assured, that, somewhere within the sphere of our location and action in life, there are duties, which require this precise kind of talents, for the performance of which they were undoubted- ly given. Let us, then, study ourselves; and learn what our adorable Maker would have us to do. CHAPTER FIFTH. CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER, §. 249. Connection of the philosophy of the will with consisten- cy of character. The philosophical analysis of the Will, which we have now in a great degree completed, may contribute to various practical results, some of them of no small value. Among other things we may confidently assert, that we find in the nature and operations of the Will the basis of consistency of character, which is certainly one of the most interesting as well as important traits. There is a well written and and popular Essay of Mr. Foster upon Decision of Charac- ter ; a subject, although it is intimately connected with the doctrine of the will, on which we do not propose to touch except incidentally. We refer to that Essay, which ex- hausts in a great degree the subjectof Decision of Character, merely for the purpose of saying, if indeed it can be necessa- ry to suggest a caution of that kind, that it is important not to confound consistency with mere decision; for, although they approximate and resemble in some respects, they are obviously remote from each other and different in other res- CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. pects. Decision is more limited; consistency embraces a wi- der range of operations. Decision relates to one thing, or at least may be shown clearly and distinctly in one thing; consis- tency relates to many. The appropriate sphere of decision of character is found in some perplexing, but definite emergency, and of course it generally manifests itself in the performance of particular acts. Consistency, on the contrary, can never be shown from the course taken in a particular emergency, without taking into Consideration the conduct of the person in other situations; but developes and proves itself from the ten- our of his conduct in a long series of events. Decision im- plies a condensed and inspirited energy put forth in the crisis of a day or an hour; consistency implies a condensation, and, if we may be allowed the expression, a tension of purpose, kept firm and immoveable for years and even a whole life. There are some men, who may not altogether be wanting in decision, but who exhibit a species of mental restlesness, an uncertainty of regard and affection, an inequality of temper, and an inconstancy of conduct, which seems to be inconsis- tent with the just claims of a percipient and moral nature. If we do not err in our estimate of the capabilities of human na- ture, it is in the power of all, who are in the full possession of their faculties, to check this inordinate restlessness, to regu- late in a great degree this inequality, to establish and to ren- der certain this inconstancy and uncertainty; and it is certain- ly unnecessary to urge the importance of doing it. The man of naturally small intellect renders himself ridiculous, as well as unhappy by capriciousness and inconstancy; by such a course he hides or destroys the single talent that is given him ; while the man, who possesses originality and vigour of intellect, and who might make them of great account for the good of his fellow-men, loses for the same reason the confidence, which would be otherwise reposed in him, and becomes comparatively useless. CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. 365 §. 250. Illustrations of the inconsistent character. We shall perhaps obtain a more full and precise idea of consistency of character, if we look at the person who is with- out it. The inconsistent man projects a plan of operations to day; to-morrow he makes preparations to carry it into effect; and the next day he abandons it. He proclaims his friendship for this or that individual; eulogizes their merits without much discrimination on every opportunity suitable or unsuitable ; but suddenly he becomes suspicious, recals his eulogiums, and ends in hatred. He adopts the principles of some literary, po- litical, or religious sect; defends them with great zeal for a short time; and then rejects them with contempt. And it is impossible from any assertions he may make or any course he may pursue at the present moment to divine what doctrines he will maintain or what course he will take hereafter. In the language of Bruyere "a man unequal in his temper is several men in one; he multiplies himself as often as he changes his taste and manners : he is not this minute what he was the last, and will not be the next what he is now; he is his own succes- sor; ask not of what complexion he is, but what are his com- plexions; nor of what humor, but how many sorts of humors has he. Are you. not deceived? Is it Eulichrates whom you meet? How cold he is to day! Yesterday he sought you, caressed you, and made his friends jealous of you. Does he re- member you? Tell him your name." §. 251. Illustrations of the consistent character. The consistent man is directly the reverse. He may be less prompt and rapid in his movements, but he ordinarily ex- hibits more discretion. And when he has once come to a conclusion as to what course is best to be pursued, he goes forward to the accomplishment of his object with perseverance and success. He may be somewhat cautious in forming friend- 866 CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. ships; but he is equally so in breaking them up and terminat- ing them. He endeavors to perform what he considers to be his duty after a full examination of a subject, and is not dis- couraged and angry and turbulent, if he happens to meet with disappointments. He looks calmly on the changes of life, neither much elated by prosperity, nor depressed by adversity. He does not make his principles bend to his circumstances; but conscientiously and firmly maintains them under all chan- ges of fortune. If he is poor in outward wealth, he is rich in inward consolation; if he is sometimes filled with sorrow, he is not harrassed with the ten-fold wretchedness of remorse ; and if he is destitute and unhonoured, he is never contemptible. Such is the consistent man, when guided by the senti- ments of virtue. Such, among other illustrious names abound- ing both in profane and sacred history, was Socrates. It was" his consistency of character, which shed such a lustre over the name and life of that wisest of the sons of Athens. Other men may have possessed equal talents and have beeli equally conspicuous; but they had not the same consistency; a consistency the more remarkable, as it was sustained not on- ly against outward pressures, but against no small share of in- ward evils. It is this trait in particular, which has rendered the ethical teacher of the ancients so preeminently entitled to the rank which he holds. In almost every possible situation, that could test his principles or try his patience, he was unal- tered. He retained the same high principles of virtue, the same meekness and kindness and cheerfulness, the same un- feigned disposition to promote the good of his country and o£ all mankind, amid great poverty, amid ingratitude and rebuke and calumny, in prison and in death itself. Had he decidedly failed in a single position, had he subjected his principles to •some temporary convenience even for one short hour, it would ifeave tarnished forever the glory of his good name. CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. g67 §. B52. Of individuals remarkable for consistency of character. And if we come down to our own times and our own coun- try, is it not the same? What is it, that imparts its deathless splendour to the name of Washington ? It is the same consis- tency of character. In that well-balanced and noble mind, each desire and passion was compelled to keep its place. He never allowed them to usurp an undue dominion, and to drag his will hither and thither against the dictates of his conscience. He had but one ruie of conduct, that of an enlightened moral sense. Hence his life Avas not, at different periods, at vari- ance with and dissevered from itself; but was one throughout,, constituting from beginning to end, (at least as compared with that of the great mass of mankind,) a resplendent and unchan- geable unity of excellence. We could point to one man yet living with a ripe and hon^ our able old age, the associate and friend and pupil of Wash-, ington, whose glory is stamped as true and enduring by the consistency, which has pervaded his conduct in the various trying situations, in which he has been placed. Having seen in his youth the miseries of a government, which is not based on just fundamental laws,he naturally felt a sympathy for those, wherever they might be, who were struggling for liberty. It was not however the licentiousness of a mob, which had any charms for him; but freeedom controlled by law, the union of liberty and order. The promotion of these has been the great object of his life, steadily and openly pursued in almost every possible variety of trying situation. At one time the idol of the populace, at another doomed by them to the scaffold; at one time the prominent and leading man of his nation, and fcoon after a detested fugitive and exile; to-day the admired inmate of palaces, to-morrow the resident of a dungeon; in poverty and in wealth, in joy and in sorrow, in honour anclj in degradation, under the old monarchy, the republic, \he enK. £68 CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. pire and the constitutional monarchy, in the old world and the new, in the field of battle and amid the debates of the senate, when every thing around him has changed and every thing in his own personal situation, he still steadily and cheerfully pur- sues the same noble object; identified, more than any thing else, by the identity of his principles; and still grasping, as he bends over the grave, the standard, inscribed with liberty and order, which waved over him in the early contests of America. §. 253- Of the value of consistency in the religious character. If consistency gives nearly its whole beauty to the charac- ter of men in the political sphere and also in the ordinary trans- actions of life, it is certainly not less fitted to adorn and to honour in the discharge of the various duties of religion. Probably no directions in the Holy Scriptures, (not always given in express terms, but often indirectly and by implication,) are more frequent than those, which require us to possess and to exhibit consistency of religious character. This requisition is implied more or less, in all those passages which exhort us to labour and not to faint, to bear with patience, not to be soon shaken in mind, and to persevere unto the end. When we lack wisdom, we are directed by an Apostle, to "ask in faith, nothing wavering ; for he, that wavereth, is like a Avave of the sea, driven with the wind and tossed. For let not that man think, that he shall receive any thing of the Lord. Ji double- minded man is unstable in all ftipways." Again and again, christians are commanded to watch, to stand fast, to continue grounded and settled in the faith, not to be moved away from the hope of the Gospel, and to hold fast their profession with- out wavering. It is melancholy to see, how much the conduct of those, who would not be thought to be wanting in true Christian feel- ing, varies with circumstances. The performance of the most plain and obvious duty, (for instance that of prayer,) is un- CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. $69 wisely and wickedly made to depend upon a thousand contin- gencies, as some transient doubt or fear, to which all men are subject, some trifling worldly disappointment, some slight af- fection of the nervous system, a keen and uncomfortable atmos- phere, the wind blowing in a particular direction, a bright and beaming sun, or a sky overcast with clouds. Many religious persons decline doing what it is obviously their duty to do, be- cause, as they alledge, they are not in the rightyVame; in other words, because their hearts are not sufficiently quickened and enlivened; not considering, that the laws of God and the requi- sitions of duty are as much binding upon the will and the mor- al powers, as upon the desires and the passions. When the de- sires and the passions are asleep, or are tending the wrong way, we may still find within us abundant elements of action in the will and the conscience. And just so long as the voluntary pow- er or faculty of the will remains to us, and the moral nature, by pointing out a certain course to be pursued, furnishes a basis or occasion for the action of the will, no excuse of dullness and worldliness of the affections can possibly avail. Men may al- ways be morally bound to do up to the limit of what they can do; and if their feelings, (we speak not of the moral feelings, but merely of the desires and affections in themselves considered,) do not come up to the standard of their actions, that may be their sin, as undoubtedly it is, but not their excuse. Not that we mean to approve, by any means, a cold and heartless perfor- mance of religious duties ; but merely to assert, that there are elements in our nature, which are sufficient to keep the conduct steady, and which ought to keep it steady, to the pursuit of the great objects of a religious life, amid the fluctuations of feeling, to which men are so exposed. A depressed and suffering con- dition of the physical system may for a time infuse a gloom and darkness into our religious affections, but so long as our percep- tions of truth remain clear, and our moral sensibilities are 47 370 CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. awake, and the faculty of the will is continued to us, we remain under an obligation, as binding and as urgent as ever, to hold on our way, to trust in God, to press forward towards the mark, to fulfil faithfully every obvious duty, "cast down but not des- troyed, faint yet pursuing." §. 254. Of the foundation or basis of consistency and inconsis- tency of character. The statements of this chapter thus far go to show what con- sistency of character is, of what importance it is, and what beauty and interest it throws over the whole life. Now if con- sistency of character is at once so full of beauty and utility, while the opposite trait of character is in an equal degree re- mote from both, being as deformed in its aspect as it is detrimen- tal in its results, it is important to inquire into the cause both of the one and the other. And we think it must be obvious on a very limited reflection, that they are both based upon one and the same mental power, viz, the Will. And it is in consequence of this, that we introduce this subject in connection with the ex- amination of the will. If the will be decisive and energetic, the conduct will be essentially consistent; if the will be vacilla- ting and weak, we may naturally expect that the vacillation of the mind will infuse itself into the outward life and stamp it with inconsistency. "When I look at the mind of Lord Bacon, says Cecil, it seems vast, original, penetrating, analogical, beyond all com- petition. When I look at his character, it is wavering, shuffling, mean.'** That the character, the outward life, of Lord Bacon was essentially what it is here represented to be, is true ; but the cause of this meanness and wavering and shuffling is not to be sought for in his intellectual powers, for in that respect he was undoubtedly vast and original, as Cecil represents him, and penetrating and analogical, beyond all competition. The se- cret is to be detected, not in the structure of his intellect or the ♦Remains of Rev. Richard Cecil. Remarks on Authors. CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. $71 mere percipient part of his nature ; but in the natural weakness of his will, as compared with the intensity of his desires and pas- sions. And so of other cases of marked inconsistency of life. There is probably not one, with the exception to be mentioned in the next section, which does not involve the fact of a consti- tutional, or a relative weakness of the will. §. 255. Of inconsistency of belief in connection with inconsis- tency of conduct and character. We are aware there is some ground for the remark here, that inconsistency of conduct is not to be ascribed wholly to a defect in the power or the regulation of the will; but is owing, in part at least, to inconsistencies in the power of belief. There are some men who are constantly undergoing changes in their speculative views; whose minds, in the strong language of Fos- ter, "are a caravansera of opinions, entertained a while, and then sent on pilgrimage." These frequent changes will of course be attended with correspondent changes and inconsisten- cies of conduct. So that undue versatility of conduct is not al- ways to be ascribed to a defect in the regulation of the will; but often to an inordinate facility and changeableness of belief. In connection with this aspect of human nature, which is undoubt- edly one of no small interest, a few remarks are to be made. In the first place we admit it to be true and undeniable, that there are some men, who have this strange facility of belief, which in its results attaches them successively to opinions and systems diametrically opposite in their import. And further- more, we may well suppose, that, in some of these cases, the cause of this peculiarity of mind is a constitutional and natural one. They labour under the difficulty of a constitutional weak- ness or defect of mind in this particular. Without checking their belief by the suggestions of the most ordinary degree of caution, without taking any note of dates, characters, and cir- 372 CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. cumstances, they eagerly receive and digest the most glaring and ridiculous improbabilities. In respect to these persons we may admit that their inconsistency of conduct is not to be ulti- mately ascribed to a defect in the exercises of the will. But in the second place, we shall find in many and perhaps a majority of cases of great vacillancy and changes in the belief, that the ground or cause of such multiplied changes is not a constitutional imbecility of the belief itself, but is to be sought for in the will, and in that very trait or characteristic of the will, which is the basis of such inconsistencies in other respects. That is to say; the change in the position of the mind, which is undergone, commences in the will, and the belief is afterwards brought to correspond to the new direction, which has been ta- ken by the voluntary power. A man, for instance, who is wan- ting in firmness of purpose, is assailed by another person of a different party or creed. Placed in this situation, he feels the lit- tle voluntary strength which he possesses, beginning to break up or give way ; and very soon, as if he were a helpless victim wholly in the power of another, he is carried over to the new party and creed, and deserts both his old doctrines and his old friends. He is not convinced, nor satisfied ; on the contrary he feels himself greatly dishonoured; but as he soon finds he can- not retreat, but must remain in his new position, whether he is pleased with it or not, he sets about searching for arguments to justify him in the course he has taken. A thousand influences are now at work, which were dormant before; his reputation, his interests, his pride all throw their weight in favour of certain decisions of the understanding at variance with its former con- clusions ; and by this rapid and powerful process, so evidently unfavourable to a true view of a subject, his intellect is soon brought up into a line with the new position of his will; and he stands justified in his own estimation as a consistent person, though it may be in nobody's else. So that it still remains good, as a general statement, that the basis of consistency or the oppo- CONSISTENCY OP CHARACTER. 31$ site is to be sought for in the character and discipline of the will. §. 256. Self-possession an element of consistency of character. But it will be seen more distinctly and fully, that consisten- cy of character has its basis chiefly in the condition and disci- pline of the will', when we consider some of those things, which are more or less implied or embraced in such consistency. It is beyond all question, that one and a marked element in con- sistency of character is self-possession or self-government. A consistent person has of course some fixed principles, by which his conduct is regulated, and some great objects before him, (or at least what he considers such,) towards which his efforts tend. His consistency is chiefly exhibited by his acting upon these principles, and steadily pursuing these objects. But not unfrequently there are circumstances occurring, which come unexpectedly, and which, coming in this unexpected manner, greatly try the strength of his resolutions. If he has not an entire self-possession, if he cannot wholly control himself in such seasons of sudden temptation and trial, he is of course liable to be driven off from the ground of his principles, as well as diverted from the great object of his pursuit, and thus to forfeit his character for consistency. It is highly important, therefore, if we would possess the rich reward and the. high honour of a consistent course through life, that the business and events and trials of our present state, instead of driving us hither and thither, and exercising an arbitrary sway over us, should be made subject to ourselves; that our own minds should have the mastery, the preeminence, the control over events. But this ability of remaining firm and self-possessed in all such emergencies implies more or less of power and dis- cipline of the will. And if consistency of character is a truly valuable trait, which gives beauty while it increases the worth of all other traits and attainments, we have a reason here, and a powerful one too, why we should endeavour to understand 374 CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. the nature of the will and the means of strengthening and reg- ulating it. §. 257. Consistency implies perseverance under changes of cir- cumstances. . As consistency of character involves the fact of a series of actions, extending over a greater or less length of time, there is Kiecessarily implied, as another element in such a character, a disposition to persevere in the course, which has been once adopted, under all those various changes of circumstances, which are found always to attend the progress of human affairs. But there is a great difference in this respect. When the tru- ly consistent man has once placed before him some object as decidedly worthy of his pursuit, he presses towards it with an inflexible and ever advancing step ; he is not frightened at eve- ry lion that stands or is supposed to stand in his path ; if diffi- culties suddenly come in his way, perhaps many in number and rising one above another in magnitude, his courage and reso- lution swell upward in proportion, and pass easily over their summit. But it is altogether different with the man, who does not possess this character for consistency. He does in- deed place before him some object to be obtained, and he en- ters upon the pursuit of it with ardour; but from the beginning he pursues a zigzag and irregular course, alternately advan- cing and retreating; the obstacles he meets with, whether from within or from without, perplex his resolutions, and final- ly turn him wholly from his purpose. But what is necessary to that perseverance, without which there can be no consistency of character ? Obviously strength of will; either a natural strength, or a vigour infused into it by a course of discipline. So that we see in this respect, as well as in others, how closely the important subject of consistency of character is connected with the doctrine of the will. CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. 375 §. 258. Consistency implies a control over the passions. Among other things, which are implied in consistency of character, is a control of the passions. Although this ability may, with some reason, appear to be involved in self-possession or self-government, yet it is worthy of a distinct notice by it- self. Frequent and violent ebullitions of passion will neces- sarily mar and destroy the order and harmony of one's life. It is obviously ordered in Providence, that we are placed in a world where trials constantly beset us, where griefs and joys and tears and smiles come mingled together, not mere- ly to render us either sad or happy, but to try, to purify, and to discipline the soul. How beautiful and even sublime it is to bear in patience the evils which are our allotment; while we learn in quietude and thankfulness the salutary les- sons they impart! It cannot be doubted, that a patient spirit, in the circumstances in which we are placed, is abso- lutely necessary to that propriety and evenness of deportment, which is implied in consistency of character. No one can pursue the regular and even tenour of his way on a path so beset with inequalities as that of human life, who is not able to guide and to subdue the storms, whether of anger or impatience, which at times arise in every one's bosom. When in the Providence of God, we are made the subjects of various sorrows, it is our duty to bear them without mur- muring. When we are injured by our enemies and are an- gry with them, it is still our duty to forgive and to bless them. But how can we possibly do this; in what way can we quell our impatience and subdue our anger ; if there be not, distinct from the passions and altogether above them, another and authoritative power, to which they can be com- pelled to render obedience! It may perhaps be said in all these cases, that we are not obliged to throw ourselves on the voluntary power, be- 376 CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. cause we have the power of the conscience, the ability im- planted within us to judge of the right and wrong. But it should be kept in mind, that the act of conscience is merely advisory or consultative; that it merely pronounces a thing to be just or unjust, merely approves or disapproves; and that, without some other power to carry its' decisions to their appropriate results, it would be wholly without effect. The whole topic, therefore, of consistency of character, (one of the most practical and interesting, that can be presented to our notice,) is closely, and even inseparably connected with the doctrine of the nature, powers, and laws of the will. This, however, is only one instance of the applications of this great subject; which will be found to weave itself into every variety and aspect of the philosophy of human conduct. So that we may say, in a single word, that it is impossible for us to have a correct understanding of the elements and operations and diversities of human nature, in its various, aspects both of feeling and action, without an acquaintance,, and a thorough acquaintance too, with the nature of the voir untary power. CHAPTER SIXTH. DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. §. 259. Importance of a due discipline of the voluntary power. In all the various treatises having relation to mental dis- cipline, that have from time to time issued from the press, while much has been said of the discipline of the memory, the reasoning power, the imagination, &c, but little has been said of the discipline of the affections, and still less of that of the will. It seems even to have been imagined, that the voluntary power, in consequence perhaps of its acknowledg- ed preeminence and control over the other powers, is placed in a sphere so entirely distinct and remote, as not to be ap- proached in the way of discipline. And when we consider, what ignorance and misconception of this part of our na- ture has prevailed, it is not surprising on the whole, that such a notion, erroneous and prejudicial as it is, should have obtained currency. But if the views hitherto given in the, various parts of this treatise be correct, we shall see that the discipline of the will is not an unmeaning proposi- tion,. and that it is as important as it is practicable. Of the, importance of this discipline it will not be necessary tosa^. 48 w? ' '- J " 378 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. much, after what has just been remarked on the subject of consistency of character. If a man would sustain himself with any sort of credit amid the storms, which blow from every point of the compass; if he would covet the reputation of possessing any fixedness of belief or of acting on any fixedness of plan, it is certain that he must have within him- self a regulative power. And this regulative power, in or- der to meet and sustain the requisitions, that are made upon it, must be strengthened in every possible way. In these views of the importance of the discipline and culture of the will, we are happy to find ourselves sustained by the authority of an eminent writer, whose opinions would be entitled to great weight on a matter far less obvious. — " The faculty of the will requires not only to be directed aright in infant life, but to be fortified and strengthened by a course of exercise and discipline as much as any faculty whatever. This we may say as physiologists; but as moral- ists we may speak a bolder language and maintain, that it de- mands the spur and trammels of education even more than all the other faculties put together, since it is designed by nature to be the governing power, and to exercise an abso- lute sway over the rest, even over the desire itself, by which, however, it is moved on all ordinary occasions."* §. 260. A due balance of all the powers the most favourable state of things to the just exercise of the will. In this connection and as preparatory to what we have further to say in this chapter, we are led to make the remark, that the most favourable occasion for the action of any men- tal power is to be found in the exact adjustment and harmo- ny of the mental powers generally. When they are all in itheir natural place, when they are all properly and precisely ?Goed's Medicine, Neurotica Ord. I. Gen. vi. DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 379 adjusted in reference to each other, without any of that in- terference and jarring which always result from a transgres- sion of their natural limits, they may all be expected to act vigorously, because there is nothing in the way of their thus acting; all obstructions, at least all extrinsic obstructions, are removed; and we may reasonably anticipate, that whatever ability they possess will be„ put forth to the full extent of its existence, and in the most available and best manner. And accordingly we may lay it down as a general principle, that wherever there is perfect harmony in the mind, every thing will be right in its action; every exercise of the mind will be in accordance with the truth of things; that is to say, it will be just such as it ought to be. But every careful observer of human nature, (saying nothing of the obvious testimony of the Bible,) assuredly knows, that this is a state of things,which, as a general state- ment at least, does not exist among men. The perfect har- mony of mental operation, which exists in the Divine Mind, and which is beautifully reflected from the minds of all per- fectly holy beings, is not found in man. The parts of the human mind, however wonderfully they may have been ar- ranged in the first instance, and whatever realizations of harmony they are capable of attaining to in the future, ex- hibit at the present time but too mournful evidence of a dis- located and jarring movement. We do not undertake to ex- plain or to intimate in what way it has happened; but of the general fact there cannot be the least doubt, that the soul of man from his childhood upward, so far from always disclosing an exact and harmonious action as it should do^ is in its own self a scene of fierce and unremitting conflict; the flesh striving against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh; the appetites and passions attempting to enforce their claims against the requisitions and authority of con- science; the love of the World, in its various forms of en- 380 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. ticement and attraction, earnestly and fiercely contesting against the love of God and of heavenly things. And now it should he kept in mind, that all this terrible contest hears directly upon the will; and it is too often the case, that this higher and controlling power, this great arbiter of the inter- nal conflict, gives its decision in favour of the appetites and against the moral sentiments, in favour of the world and against Him, who made the world and all things therein. But this is a state of things which ought not to he. And it is truly a great practical question, in what way the energies of the will can he strengthened, and directed to their appro- priate and rightful issues. It is admitted that we know the right. And the question is, how shall we obtain strength to do it? How shall We redeem ourselves from our volun- tary thraldom, and walk forth in the light of our own con- science and in the smiles of an approving God, regenerated and free? The answer to these questions might be expanded over volumes, but such an extended examination is not a part of our plan, and we shall dismiss the subject, practical and interesting as it is, with some general views given in as few words as possible. 5). 261. Of the culture of the appetites, propensities, and pas- sions as auxiliary to the discipline of the ivill. Keeping in view the general statement, that an entire harmony of the mental powers is a condition of things the most favourable for the perfect exercise of the will, we are the more fully prepared to enter into the examination of par- ticulars. We proceed, therefore, to remark, that it is highly important, in the discipline of the will, to keep the appetites, propensities, and passions in due subjection. While it is true, that the volitions are capable of operating upon these various desires, and that they can check and subdue them, nboth by a direct and indirect action, and particularly by a DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 381 combination of both- it is likewise not the less true, that these appetitive and affective parts of our nature, if we may be allowed such expressions, are also capable in their turn of operating on the volitions, and that they do thus operate; although it is not necessary at the present time to enter in- to any explanation of the precise nature of this reciprocal influence. In other words there is in the economy of the mind a fixed relation between the two; between the volun- tary power or will on the one hand, and the appetites and affections or passions on the other. Each of them has its place; each in a perfect state of the mind has its appropriate limits; each has its nature, its object, and its relations. Hence, in order to illustrate the alleged importance of keeping the desires, in their various forms,, under suitable control, as a prerequisite to the proper exercise of the will, it seems to be necessary to present but one view. It is a fact, susceptible of as clear demonstration as subjects of this nature generally admit of, that any appetite or propensity whatever, whether it be the desire of mere sensual pleasures or of knowledge, wealth, or power, which is indulged for a long time without any restraint, (and the same may be said of any one of the passions or affections,) ultimately acquires the ascendency, and entirely prostrates, not only the will, but the whole mind at its feet. If, therefore, we duly esti- mate the great object of securing to the will a free, unper- plexed, and vigorous action, we shall seriously endeavour, by the use of all those means which have a relation to a result so desirable, to restrain every appetite, propensity, and passion within its due bounds. Whenever they exhibit a disposition to pass the limits, which a duly sensitive con- science has prescribed to them, let them be subjected to a rigid supervision and repression. If we permit them to take even one step beyond the sphere which nature has as- signed them, we give them a sort of claim on another step 382 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. and another; and what is worse, we give them renewed pow- er to enforce it. It is in their very nature, when they have once transgressed, to insist on repeated and continued trans- gression; and it is impossible effectually to evade their clamorous and unjust demands, but by expelling them at once from their position, and bringing them back to the place where they belong. It remains only to be added, that in the culture of the vari- ous forms of desire is to be included, not only the repression of those which are evil ; but the bringing out and strength- ening of those which are good. The amiable and honorable propensities and passions, together with those of a purely religious kind, are entitled to a position in our sentient con- stitution of the first and highest rank ; but how frequently does it happen, that they are expelled from their appropriate place, and are Compressed into some obscure nook, by the spreading and strengthening of those of a different charac- ter. But it is certainly incumbent on every one, who is desirous of securing the great object of freeness, vigour, and rectitude in the mental operations, to make them the subject of special and long-continued attention, to allure them forth into the light, and in every suitable way to accelerate their expansion, and enhance their beauty. §. 262 Some instances and proofs of the foregoing statements. The subject of the inconsistency of the perfect exercise of the will with an undue and unnatural predominance of the appetites and passions has been particularly introduced to the reader's notice in the chapters on the Slavery and the Alienation of the will. In those chapters various illustra- trations and facts were brought forward; and of course it is not so necessary at the present time to enter into further il- lustrations and proofs at much length- A few additional re- marks will suffice. DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 383 Every one must have observed, how destructive to every good resolve and noble effort is the inordinate indulgence of the bodily appetites. When they obtain the ascendency, as they not unfrequently do, they make the unhappy subject of them an entire slave; obscuring his intellect, blunting his conscience, perplexing and overthrowing all his serious and wise determinations, and debasing him to a level but little short of that of the brutes. The unhappy results of such in- dulgences are so frequently witnessed, that we feel at liber- ty to pass them by with this mere reference. But the evil does not rest with the undue indulgence of the appetites alone. Those active principles, which under the name of the propensities and passions, rank decidedly higher in the scale of our sentient nature, are hardly less hurtful, when in- dulged to excess, than excessive bodily appetites. This re- mark may perhaps be illustrated by a brief reference to the operations of a passion, which is obviously implanted for wise and beneficial purposes, and whose perversions are both less numerous and less injurious than those of some others; we refer to the passion of Fear. If all the various facts, which go to make up the history of this passion, could be presented before the reader, he would at once see, what an immense obstacle, an undue intensity of the passions pre- sents to the unencumbered and vigorous exercise of the will, when such exercise is put forth or is proposed to be put forth in any direction at variance with the precise line of the passion itself. If it be otherwise, how can it have happened that many persons of clear perception, and of undoubted powers of intellect in every respect, have nevertheless been the complete s]aves of the irresistible sway of the passion now referred to! There is one individual, whose mournful history is so familiar that a mere suggestion of it will answer our pur- 384 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. pose; we refer to the English poet Cowper. The passion of fear in this amiable and interesting writer, (operating un- doubtedly on a constitution easily excited and nervous,) was so undue in its influence, that the will was often entirely overcome and prostrated; and he was often unable to perform what other persons, infinitely his inferiours in the length and breadth of intellectual perception, would have conceived a very easy thing to be done. While in some respects, (all those which go to constitute a man of literature and a poet,) but very few men could justly claim a superiority over him, he sunk in others to the grade of infantile weakness ; and so conscious was he of this, that his vivid imagination rep- resented him as the subject of ridicule and sport among those he met with in the streets. We recollect to have seen it represented in a German wri- ter of deserved celebrity, that the key to the character of the Apostle Peter, whose active and benevolent life was often strangely anomalous and inconsistent with itself, is to be found in the undue operation of the passion of fear. And there seems to be much truth in the remark. If one will carefully recal the incidents in the life of that devout and faithful follower of our Saviour, he will readily recognize, how applicable the remark is. When the disciple, with an undue confidence which is not unfrequently found associated with an undue susceptibility to fear, assured the Saviour he would not forsake him, though all others should; he undoubt- edly uttered what he felt, and what he felt too, when he made the asseveration,most deeply and sincerely. But when the Saviour's prospects were clouded, when the hour of the prince and of the powers of darkness came,wheu the shepherd was smitten and the smiters seemed to have all might in their hands, then it was that those intense misgivings and fears, to which this devoted follower of Christ had probably been al- ways subject, came rushing in, billow upon bi|low, till they DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 385 overwhelmed all the landmarks of love and of duty, and bore him away captive into the camp of the enemy. We repeat it, therefore, that we should carefully study the nature of the appetites, propensities, and passions; we must make them the objects of a patient and assiduous culture ; we must in particular subject them to a strict supervision and control ; otherwise, in some unexpected hour, they will arise in their might, and, in defiance of the clamours of con- science and the struggles of the voluntary power, will bring the whole man under their dominion. True as it undoubt- edly is,that the will has a real and substantive power in itself, it is still true that this power has its limits, and cannot with- stand every thing; it is still true that every inordinate ex- ercise of the appetites and passions trenches upon the sphere of the voluntary faculty, and diminishes something from the freeness and vigour of its action. §. 263. Importance of repressing the outward signs of the pas- sions. But is it a fact, that the propensities and passions are ac- tually under our control in any degree? It cannot be doubt- ed. Instances have already been given which show it. There is a very striking remark of Mr. Locke on this subject, in his interesting chapter on Power. " Let not any one say, he cannot govern his passions, nor hinder them from breaking out, and carrying him into action; for what he can do before a prince, or a great man, he can do alone, or in the presence of God, if he will.''- — But granting the general fact,, the inquirj r still remains, what course shall be taken, what particular method shall be adopted in order to control them, and keep them in their place? Our limits will not permit us to undertake an answer to this question at length; and we shall accordingly leave the whole subject to the reflections 49 386 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. and good judgment of the reader with a few remarks upon a single topic, which is the more interesting as it has seldom attracted notice; certainly not that degree of notice to which it is justly entitled. There is a tendency in every emo- tion and passion to express itself outwardly by means of natural signs, such as the motions of the eye, the changes of colour in the countenance, the movements of the muscles, and the tones of the voice. As the tendency is a natural one, it may be difficult to control it entirely; but it is high- ly important to attempt to do so. And the reason is, (and a singular fact it is in the economy of the mind,) that the outward expression reacts upon the inward principle, and gives increased intensity to the internal feeling. "As every emotion of the mind, says Mr. Stewart, produces a sensible effect on the bodily appearance, so, upon the other hand, when we assume any strongly expressive look, and accom- pany it with appropriate gestures, some degree of the cor- respondent emotion is apt to arise within us. Mr. Burke informs us, that he has often been conscious of the passion of anger rising in his breast, in consequence of counterfeit- ing its external signs; and I have little doubt, that, with most individuals, the result of a similar experiment will be the same. Campanella, too, the celebrated philosopher and physiognomist, (as Mr. Burke farther observes,) when he wished to form a judgment of what was passing in the mind of another, is said to have mimicked, as accurately as possible, his appearance at the moment, and then to have directed his attention to the state of his own feelings."* Furthermore, as the tendency of the emotions and passions is to express themselves outwardly, every suppression of the outward signs operates,as a direct rebuke and curtailment of the passions themselves. The passions, when they are •Stewart's Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, Vol. m. Chap. II. §. 2d. DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 387 excited, are of such a violent nature, that they require an open field, a free, unencumbered circuit; and they cannot well exist in their higher degrees of intensity without this opportunity of expansion and of unencumbered action. Shut them up, therefore, in the bosom; enclose them amid the dim shades and the walls of the penetralia of the soul ; and they will necessarily wither and die. When they are thus enclosed, they will not be more likely to live and flourish, than the tree will, that is shut out from the light of the sun, and from the genial airs of heaven. This is a principle of great practical consequence in the government of the passions, and of course in the discipline of the will. Never give to the passions, (of course it will be understood that we have no reference to the mild and be- nevolent passions, but to the evil, and malignant, and angry passions,) an outward expression either verbal or physiog- nomical, with the exception of those cases, where the actu- al state of things does undoubtedly require it. We may suppose a case, where we may not only be angry with a person, but where also it is desirable that he should know it; but in a vast majority of cases, it is exceedingly better that they should be known only to the bosom where they originate. In one of the well known Resolutions of Presi- dent Edwards, which are worthy of the attention of the mere philosopher as well as of the Christian, after resolving against uneasiness and fretfulness in a certain case, he re- solves further, never to suffer the effects of such uneasiness or fretfulness, "so much as in the least alteration of speech, or motion of my eye." A strong intimation, to say the least, how unbecoming he considered the outward expression of the unamiable passions, and how injurious, in ordinary cases, he deemed such an expression to the subject of them. 888 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. §. 264. Of enlightening the intellect in connection with the dis- cipline of the will. But in order to give the will a suitable opportunity of action by removing the obstructions in its way, and especial- ly in order to furnish an adequate and ample basis for its operations, we must go further back than the Sensibilities, which are in immediate proximity with it, and consider it in its connection with the Intellect. This is a prominent and leading view of the whole subject of the discipline of the will. It cannot be doubted that, among the most available and decisive methods of aiding and regulating the action of the will, we must include the illumination of the intellect. As a general thing the voluntary power will act the more decisively in reference to any given object, in proportion as such object is the more fully understood. We do not mean to say, that the perceptions of the intellect alone, and with- out any thing further, will furnish a basis for the action of the will. The intellect and the will are entirely separated from each other, as we have already seen in the First Part of this Work. But the intellect reaches and operates, and we may say poioerfidly operates, upon the will through the medium of the sensibilities. For instance, we are required to pursue a certain course, but it certainly cannot be expected, that we should have any feeling in the case, or that we should put forth any action in respect to it, until we understand what it is. Why is it that men are so inactive, so supine on sub- jects of the greatest moment to the welfare of the whole hu- man race? It is, because wholly taken up with their own private affairs, they do not give their attention to them; they do not investigate and understand them ; of course they do not feel, and being destitute of feeling, they do not act. Hundreds of millions of the human race are living and dy- ing without any of those aids and consolations, which a DISCITLINE OF THE WILL. 389 knowledge of the religion of Jesus Christ is calculated to im- part. And yet it is universally admitted, both in consideration of the reasonableness of the thing and of the commands of Scrip- ture, that it is a duty incumbent on Christian nations, to see that blessed Gospel sent to them without delay. But why is it that so few feel in heart what they acknowledge speculative- ly, and that almost none are found to offer themselves as per- sonal labourers in this great and glorious work? It is because, (at least this is one great and prominent reason, if it be not the only one,) their inquiries have been too limited; they have not explored the length and breadth of that unspeakable wretch- edness incidental to a state of heathenism; they have been satisfied with generalities and abstract truisms, without care- fully and seriously estimating, even in a single instance, the extent of that degradation implied in bowing down to images of wood and stone; without sitting down and counting one by one the tears and the groans and the wailings, the crime and the hopelessness of the present life, and the weight of misery in the life to come. We would illustrate the prominent idea of this section by another topic. One of the greatest evils, which has ever afflicted the human race, is that of war. But still only a very few individuals appear to be fully awake to its dreadful atroci- ty, and are seriously, and with an earnestness proportioned to the importance of these movements, arraying their efforts and their influence against its continuance. The great mass of mankind arc indifferent and inert. And how can we account for it? In the same way we account for their indifference to the spread of the Gospel. It is owing, (we do not say wholly, but in a great degree certainly,) to inattention to the subject, and consequent ignorance of it. They dwell upon a few gen- eral and often erroneous conceptions of skill and heroism, as they are detailed in the pages of a government Gazette, but they do not bring distinctly and fixedly before their eyes the £90 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. burnings and the devastations and the famine, which overspread the country; they do not behold the wounds and the protracted suffering and the horrid forms of the battle field; they do not listen to the mourning and the lamentation of the bereaved fa- ther and mother, whose grey hairs go down with sorrow to the grave. If they would but once consider the subject in all its facts, and in all its bearings, they could not fail both to feel and to act; they would at once lift up a note of remonstrance, which should reach their rulers, and compel them to stop in their ministrations of blood. §. 265. Further remarks on the same subject. A multitude of similar illustrations might be brought for- ward. In almost any case whatever, if" we can induce a per- son to examine a subject with a view to action, the work is half done. And what is true of others, is true of ourselves. If we propose to act, we must think seriously upon that, what- ever it is, to which the proposed action relates. The proper, and we may add, the indispensable preliminary to action, is in- vestigation. We are so constituted, that it is impossible for us to put forth a volition, without a motive, without some antece- dent feeling, without some appetite, some desire, some moral feeling already existing in the mind. But it is equally impos- sible, as has already appeared in the chapter on the Relation of the Intellect to the Will, that the various emotions and de- sires should exist, without some specific object perceived by the understanding, to which such emotions and desires relate. It is a fundamental law of our nature, that there can be no ac- tion of the will without feeling ; and that there can be no feel- ing without intellection. There is, therefore, an indirect, but a very intimate and important connection between the intellect and the will. If we would will, we must feel ; and if we would feel, we must understand. As a general thing, (it will be no- ticed that we do not lay down the proposition as one admitting DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 391 of no exception whatever,) the will corresponds to the intellect; the action of the will is in a line with the action of the intellect; and changes in the intellect will almost necessarily induce cor- responding changes in the sentient and voluntary parts of the mental constitution. And hence it happens, that what is de- sired at one time, will soon cease to be desired, when present- ed to the mind in some new light. What is warmly approved at one time will suddenly become, on further examination and knowledge of all the circumstances, an object of disapprobation. And on the other hand objects of disapprobation and aversion may soon become, on further inquiry, objects of approbation and desire. In this way, by exerting our powers of inquiry and reasoning, and by presenting new facts to the mind, we are continually presenting new motives, and are indirectly but very effectively operating changes in the action of the voluntary faculty ; and, (what is an important circumstance in this con- nection,) these inquiries are made, and these changes are brought about under the direction of the will itself. And thus in the wonderful constitution of the human mind there are wheels within wheels; effective springs of action operating upon each other; motives regulating the will, and the will taking a dif- ferent direction and regulating the motives; a reciprocal ac- tion and influence of each part without detriment to its appro- priate nature. §. 266. Of aiding the will by a reference to the regard oj others. We may sometimes give strength to the action of the will, in those numerous cases where we find ourselves vacillating, and uncertain what to do, by various aids external to ourselves. As our Creator never designed, that men should live isolated from each other and alone, so He has admirably fitted them up with those mental capacities and tendencies, which are pre- cisely adapted to a state of society. While he has implanted within them a strong desire for each other's company, which 393 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. brings them together in communities, he has at the same time so constituted them, that they naturally exercise a regard and esteem for whatever is kind, honourable, and upright. And it is altogether suitable and just, that they should avail themselves of this arrangement of things, in whatever way it can be made subordinate to the discharge of their personal duties, and to the general perfection of their character. In a single word they are at liberty to sustain themselves in any proposed course of action by taking into view, and by receiving, as an encourage- ment to them, the favourable estimates of public opinion. We would not, however, be understood to say, that a re- gard to the good opinion of others should be the sole and para- mount rule of conduct; since our constitution developes a higher rule, that of the moral sense, to which every other one is not only subordinate, but responsible. Nevertheless' it is undoubtedly true, that a suitable regard, as has been remarked, may safely and justly be paid to the favourable opinions of our fellow men. The regard and approbation, which they not unfrequently bestow on those whose conduct they are called upon to witness, is one of those natural rewards, which the Creator has appointed as an attendant upon virtue. When, therefore, we are strongly tempted by the influence of preju- dice, passion, or self-interest, to pursue an erroneous though pleasing and favourite course, it is important to aid the will by presenting before it, as a counteracting motive, the judgment of enlightened public sentiment ; remembering that there is something in the heart of man, which is instinctively responsive to the just and true in human conduct, not only to condemn or approve such conduct as right or wrong, but to despise or to honour it as ennobling or as degrading. He, whose fixed and immoveable volition is always coincident with the requisitions of immutable rectitude, is cheered by the hearty and consentient voice of the wise and good. While he, who yields himself to an evil course, or even weakly vacillates between the right DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 393 and the wrong, can expect nothing but their aversion and their frowns. §. 267. Of aiding the will by a reference to the conscience. But particularly, in those conflicts of life where we find the will halting between two opinions, we should refer, as has already been intimated, to the consolations and guidance of that higher power, within us, the Moral Sense. It is un- doubtedly true, that we may derive strength from an enlighten- ed public sentiment; but it cannot be denied, that public opin- ion is always changeable, and sometimes wrong. We may perhaps admit, that in a large majority of cases it is just in its decisions; but still it is obviously so imperfect as a rule of ac- tion, that we greatly need some other; not perhaps of a more amiable aspect, but certainly more lofty in its bearing, and more inflexible in its requisitions. He, who constantly sub- jects himself to the influence of the general rule, that con- science is never to be violated, who strictly observes it in small things as well as 1 in great, is a tower of strength to himself. Beginning to feel, as if he were in some degree acting up to the dignity of his nature, he finds within himself a fountain of joy springing up with spontaneous and everlasting freshness. While he builds, as it were, a mighty wall around the will to prevent its erring into forbidden paths, he at the same time gives it direct and positive strength to pursue its onward and allotted course. In all cases whatever, however we may ex- plain the fact, rectitude is strength. If it is true, that knowl- edge is power, it is still more so, that moral uprightness is power. It will always be found, that he, who faithfully walks within the magical circle of virtue, experiences an invisible protection; but when the limit is once passed over, he is left to himself, and rushes headlong. There is profound wisdom in the terse and emphatic expressions of a Roman writer, "UBI SEMEL RECTO DEERRATUM EST, IN PRAECEPS PERVENITUR." 50 S94 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. §. 268. Of the aids furnished by the principle of imitation. We here take the liberty of recalling to the reader's notice a remark already made to the effect, that the power of the will is a definite thing; that, although it may not be precisely the same in every individual, it has nevertheless, in every case, its fixed limits of capability and action; and that we cannot reasonably expect from it what is obviously beyond its ability. And hence the propriety of always keeping in mind its true nature, of carefully considering what it can do, and what it cannot do, in order to aid it in cases of doubt and trial in every possible way. Among other directions important to be kept in mind, we may make the further remark, that the operations of the will may be greatly aided by availing ourselves of the principle of Imitation. Of the nature of this principle we propose to say nothing further than to remark in a word, that it is an original one; and is very extensive and powerful in its influence; per- haps there is none more so. Hence in common life, and par- ticularly on extraordinary occasions, we find constant appeals to it. When soldiers are on the eve of a battle, the command- er instigates them to the great and decisive effort, not only by the consideration of what is due to their country, but by setting before them the example of others, who fell in the renowned fields of war. In the numerous and sanguinary battles of Na- poleon, he rarely permitted his soldiers to advance into the con- flict without reminding them of the great days and heroes of victory, and endeavouring to inflame their courage and to in- crease their energy by proposing for their imitation the soldiers of Lodi and Marengo, of Jena and Austerlitz. It will be naturally understood, that we introduce this in- stance merely as an example of the power of the principle, and of the use which has been made of it. It would be much to be lamented, if there were no other examples than those of a mili- tary kind to sustain in trial, and to encourage to endurance and DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 395 effort in trying emergencies. In the ordinary trials of life, in those perplexities which assail us from every side, in those af- flictions both bodily and mental, which poor and corrupted hu- manity is heir to, we often feel our best resolutions breaking up and giving way, and we should wholly fall into despair, did we not draw encouragement and support from the faith and forti- tude of those, who have been in similar situations. Discoura- ged and fainting we rest our weary heads on the bosoms of those who have gone before us, and find ourselves refreshed. The Scriptures themselves fully recognize the propriety of this resource, and furnish us with some striking examples of an appeal to it. The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews, in particular, seems to have availed himself of this principle of our nature. After mentioning Abel and Enoch and Abraham and Moses and a multitude of others, that great host of olden time, who subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, had trial of mockings, scourgings, and imprisonment, and of whom, in a word, the world was not worthy, he adds, as if he would insti- gate those whom he addressed to follow an example so glori- ous, "wherefore, seeing we also are encompassed about by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin, which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with pa- tience the race that is set before us." The sacred writers ev- ery where encourage and exhort us to follow in the path of our blessed Redeemer; "ioho suffered for us , leaving us an example, thative should follow his steps." And how many, in all ages of the world, have turned their weeping eyes to the Captain of their salvation; and beholding him firm and unmoved in temp- tation, constant and persevering in his labours, patient in suf- fering, benevolent and forgiving to his enemies, having but the one great object of doing his Father's will, have been transformed into the likeness of his glorious image, and like him have been made perfect through tribulation. 398 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. §. 269. Of aiding the will by placing ourself in circum- stances which do not admit of a retreat. We may sometimes aid the action of the will by placing ourselves in a position, from which there is no retreat. We sometimes express it by saying, that we have taken, or are about to take, a decisive step; meaning a step, which is more or less an irretrievable one; a step, which fully and complete- ly pledges us to a certain course. We may suppose with some reason, that Julius Caesar, when he approached the banks of the Rubicon, felt some hesitation and vacillancy of purpose; he scarcely knew himself what he was going to do; his will stood balancing on a pivot; and it was uncertain in which di- rection it would throw itself; but when he had once passed the small stream, that constituted .the boundary of his province, when, by a [single movement onward, he had changed his po- sition in relation to the government of his country, then all was done; there was no possibility of retreat; his purpose at once became fixed, irrevocable, unchangeable. In many cases in common life, when the will is vacillating between various objects, we may establish it firmly and forever by a step onward, by placing ourselves in a new position, by appealing to a Higher Power for the uprightness of our inten- tions and making an irretrievable movement. And we have here an effective principle of action; one, upon the application of which the most important issues have sometimes depended. The true course of action, in all cases where the path of duty is unquestionably plain, and when at the same time the world and its allurements interposes to hinder us from entering into that path, is, not to sit down sluggishly and hold^an inglorious parley with the suggestions of indolence and vice, but to move forward, to commit ourselves at once, to take a decided step, to throw ourselveslnto the breach, and let the consequences take care of themselves. DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 397 §. 270. Of the effects of habit in giving strength to the will. In illustrating that course, which is to be taken in order to give strength to the will, it is proper and important to bring in- to account the great principle or law of habit. Of the nature and tendencies of this law it is enough to say in this con- nection, that no other law of our mental constitution is capa- ble of so entirely modifying the mental action as this. We often see its results in the case of the viscious man, whose unholy propensities go on strengthening and strengthening un- der its influence, till they assume the stubbornness and inflexi- bility of iron. But the principle in question is as powerful for good as for evil; and we do not fully understand the secret of our own strength, till we have learnt its power, and how to apply it. When we set out upon a course of virtue, our reso- lution may be feeble; not unfrequently we shall find ourselves faltering in our purpose; and it seems to be with great difficul- ty that the voluntary power is brought fully up into a line with that course, which we deem it important to pursue. But it is the result of the principle of habit, that every act of the will in this right direction gives vivacity and strength to the succeed- ing act. So that, if a man once enters upon a virtuous course, if he once sets his foot into the strait and narrow way; then every step which he takes will greatly increase the elas- ticity and the ease, the rapidity and firmness of his movement. §. 271 . Of strengthening the will by religious considerations. Finally, we may give great strength and energy to the ac- tion of the Will byjneans of religious considerations. Let it ever be our serious desire and determination, in the numerous perplexities and temptations of life, to look constantly to that benificent Power, who presides over the destiny of men and of worlds, and without whom, (whatever human pride may as- 898 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. sert to the contrary,) there is no race to the swift, and no bat- tle to the strong. Every thing of a religious nature, the good- ness of God, the astonishing condescension and love of the Savior, the completeness and mercy of the great plan of sal- vation, the shortness and rapidity of time, the solemnities of death, the dread realities and pomp of the judgment day, a boundless eternity, the inconceivable joys of heaven, and the inconceivable wretchedness of a rejection from God's favour; all these things may operate upon the mind,either singly or with various forms and degrees of combination; and as they cluster around the great principles of action, they will be found infu- sing into them an element of vitality, and imparting a strength, which can be derived from no other source. The world is full of instances. In all periods of the history of the human race, men have witnessed the power of religious considera- tions in imparting patience, endurance, and vigour of pur- pose. They have seen it in the chamber of sickness, in the solitary dungeon, on the iron bed of torture, in the flaming fur- nace, in the voluntary exile among barbarous tribes, in hun- ger and cold and nakedness, in dens and caves of the earth, in desert islands and wildernesses. Other considerations may undoubtedly give strength, but those of religion give more; mere worldly motives may impart a considerable degree of vigour, but the ennobling incentives, drawn from the character and government of God, inspire an energy far more intense, as well as more elevated and pure. How many have been able to say with Pellico in the miseries of his ten years imprison- ment, "religion taught me to experience a sort of pleasure in my troubles, to resist and to vanquish in the battle appointed me by heaven! " How many in a yet higher strain have been able to say with the three pious friends of the prophet Daniel, " We are not careful to answer thee in this matter. If it be DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 399 so, our God, whom we serve, is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace." How many in all ages of the world, have been. sustained by such unspeakable energy, extracted from the quickening elements of religion, that they could truly exclaim with the poor and suffering Waldenses, when encircled with fire and sword in their Alpine fastnesses, and hurled "mother ivith infant down the rocks," " Yet better were this mountain wilderness " And this wild life of danger and distress, " Watchings by night and perilous flight by day, " And meetings in the depths of earth to pray, " Better, far better, than to kneel with them, " And pay the impious rite thy laws condemn, END. 400 NOTE. (SECTION OMITTED;.) §. 105 2 . The fact of laws of the will shown from the regularity of voluntary contributions and of deposites. We request the attention of the reader to another fact, which has a bearing on the great subject of the laws of the will. It cannot have escaped the notice of any one as a peculiarity of modern times, that there are a multitude of benevolent associ- ations, whose receipts depend wholly upon voluntary contribu- tions. But notwithstanding the fact of their income being wholly voluntary, which, if experience had not shown to the contrary, would be exceedingly discouraging, they proceed in their affairs with nearly or quite the same confidence, as if they had a fixed capital to operate with. They send out missiona- ries, establish schools, translate the Scriptures, explore un- known and barbarous countries, plant colonies, erect churches, and engage in other important and expensive undertakings, without a cent of money except what comes from voluntary gifts. They make their calculations beforehand as to what they can accomplish in a given time; and not unfrequently in- cur heavy expenses in anticipation of their receipts. Their true capital is a knowledge of the operations of the human mind un- der certain assignable circumstances. These circumstances they are in a good degree acquainted with; and hence are en- abled to anticipate the amount of their receipts for a given time with almost as much accuracy, as the merchant or farmer, who has an actual capital already in his possession to operate with. Does not this circumstance go with others to show, that the will has its laws ? We will not enlarge upon the subject, but merely observe, that it reminds us of another interesting fact somewhat analo- gous to this. It is, that banks issue bills and lend money upon their deposites, and often to a great amount. They take this course as they believe, and as they have undoubted reason to believe, with almost entire safety. By observation they ascer- tain that their customers, (although the ability of their custo- mers to do it evidently depends on a thousand apparent contin- gencies,) deposite a certain amount or nearly so, within a giv- en time. They find as a general thing, that the variation in the amount received in specified times, is not greater than the variation of the receipts of an individual, who is largely engag- ed in business. And they consider this state of things basis enough for very extended transactions. But could this possibly be, if the will were wholly exempt from fixed principles of action? Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Nov. 2004 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township. PA 16066 (724) 779-2JT1 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 013 410 321 8